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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

Needed You

Word Count: 1,551

Characters: Isaac Lahey, Reader, mentions of OC Characters

Pairings: Isaac Lahey x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, possible cliffhanger idk?

A/N: pls send requests for isaac i missed writing for him

A/N 2: bro wtf was this ep of TFAWS idek what I have to say abt it-

A/N 3: part two?

Masterlist

You leaned against your locker, watching as Isaac ran down the hallway with his new friends, passing by you once again, without even noticing. He had a big smile on his face, which was never unusual, even through all his pain and hardships he always managed to stay happy. But this smile was different. It was more of an evil smile, something that made you uncomfortable.

That was only a small change of what happened with Isaac. New friends, new clothes, new attitude. If it wasn't for his hair, you wouldn’t be able to recognize the boy in front of you. Someone who used to be your best friend, who you’d rely on for everything, someone that you were there for.

As time went on, you had only assumed you would never lose Isaac. The bond the two of you had was unbreakable. Or so you thought. Your mother used to crack jokes about you marrying Isaac, due to the bond you had with him. You’d never felt that way about anyone else.

Your mind ran past the thought of your mom as you clenched your jaw, taking a deep breath. Your mother was gone, had been for a while. But not that anyone knew.

You sniffled softly, before hearing the bell ringing, while you entered the classroom.

“Partner up,” you heard your teacher say.

You kept your head down, before seeing the shadow of someone sitting next to you.

“Partners?” you heard Isaac's voice as you sighed softly.

“Actually…” you started.

“Oh, c’mon we both know that you don't like anyone else,” he instantly began to tease you as you rolled your eyes, annoyed.

He was trying to act as nothing happened, and that he didn't spend all those past months ignoring you completely.

“Fine,” you replied softly.

You rested your head on your hand before looking at the board, doing the assignment.

---

“Are you scared?” Isaac's voice was small as the two of you stood in front of Beacon Hills High.

“No, are you?” you lied, looking up at the building.

“No,” he replied.

“Are you lying?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

You reached for his hand, before taking a big breath.

“It’s okay, Isaac. Remember, we’ll always have each other, right?” you asked softly.

He nodded his head, before the two of you gave a small smile to each other, before opening the door, entering your new school for the first time.

---

“(Y/N)!” Isaac ran down the hall, making his way to you as you scratched your forehead, before turning around to face him.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“I went by your house last night? You didn't tell me you moved?” he asked, frowning slightly.

You dug your nails into your palms before nodding your head.

“I live with my uncle now,” you replied.

“Your uncle? I thought you hated your uncle,” he replied.

“He’s not that bad,” you muttered, opening your locker.

“Well, you told me that he has a drinking problem. And he gets scary and mean,” your eyes watered slightly before you rubbed them away.

“I don’t really have a choice,” you said.

“Why not? What about your mom?” he asked.

“I have to go to class, Isaac,” you closed your locker, taking a deep breath before you walked away from him.

---

“Isaac?” you knocked at his door, walking in slowly as he wrapped his arms around himself, rocking slightly.

The lights were off, you could barely make out his figure.

“Isaac,” you walked further into his room, turning on a lamp next to his bed while he flinched.

“Sorry,” you walked to him, putting your hand on his shoulder.

“My mom-” his voice broke as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I know, I know,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead, rocking with him slightly before he buried his head in your arms.

“I want her back,” he cried softly.

You buried your face in his hair, resting your head on top of his as he cried softly, clinging onto you tightly.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Isaac. I’m right here,” you continued to caress his back, before the two of you laid down onto his bed, continuing to hold each other before slowly drifting off to sleep.

---

“(Y/N)!” you poked your head up, hearing someone calling your name from outside your house as you frowned.

You walked towards your window, seeing Isaac standing in the backyard.

“Isaac, what the hell are you-” you started.

“Open the window!” he yelled.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused as you opened the window, waiting a minute before he climbed in.

You immediately took notice to his bruises and cuts as you gasped, leading him to your bed.

“What the hell happened to you?!” you yelled.

“Keep it down! I don't want your mom to hear!” he whispered loudly.

You looked out the door, before closing it.

“D-Did you get into a-a fight or something? Oh my god,” you ran to your bathroom, grabbing your first aid kit.

His eyes instantly watered.

“This is gonna sting,” you pressed the alcohol wipe to his wound, hearing him wince.

“What happened to you?” your eyes began to water as you looked at his broken figure.

“M-My… My dad. H-He just got s-so mad, and…” he couldn't finish his words before he bit his lip, taking a shaky breath.

You felt your heart drop as you continued cleaning his wounds.

“Isaac…” your voice broke.

“I messed up, really, really badly,” he cried softly.

“No, i-it’s not your fault. God, we need to tell my mom, she can help,” you started, reaching for your door.

“No!” he ran to you, pulling you back.

“Isaac!” you started.

“No! You can’t tell anyone,” he shook his head.

“What? Isaac…”

“No! (Y/N), please. I’m begging you just please don't say a word to anyone,” he cried softly, holding your hands.

“H-How am I supposed to help you?”

“I don't need you to help me. I just need my best friend to be here for me,” his eyes were bloodshot as you cried softly.

You nodded your head, before wrapping your arms around his shaking figure.

“Can I spend the night?” he asked.

“Of course you can,” you sniffled.

He nodded softly, as you led him to your bed, laying down with him.

---

“Why do you keep running away from me? (Y/N),” you wiped the tears from your eyes as you continued walking, hearing Isaac calling behind you.

“I had a really long day. I just want to go home, Isaac,” you replied, trying to hide your feelings.

“Why do you keep ignoring me?” you clenched your jaw, exhaling harshly as you continued walking.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled.

You froze, before letting out a frustrated sigh, turning to face him as his face dropped slightly.

“Why are you crying?” he asked softly.

“I just need you to leave me alone,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)-”

“Stop, Isaac! Stop acting like we’re friends again! Stop acting like everything can go back to normal and we’re friends after you spend months avoiding me!” you yelled, taking him by surprise as he jumped slightly.

“I know, but-”

“There’s no but! All I want is for you to leave me alone, so why can’t you just do that?” your tears were falling freely as he kept quiet, unsure of what to say.

“I just wanted things to go back to before. I thought if I acted like nothing happened, we would be okay,” he said softly.

“It’s too late to pretend nothing happened,” your voice broke as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“Isaac, I've been by your side for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been there for you whenever you needed me. B-But…” you could barely make it through your sentence before your voice wavered.

“I needed you when my mom died but you just avoided me. And you kept avoiding me a-and ignoring me. You made me feel like I didn't matter to you, that our friendship meant nothing. That hurt. I don’t need you coming back here and making all that pain come back,” you cried softly.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). You have to believe me, I-I wanted to be with you, I wanted to be by your side but I couldn't. I can’t explain and I know it sounds so shitty and I know what I did to you was terrible,” he stroked your cheek softly, looking down at you.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am or how much you mean to me. I-I need you as much as you need me. Please, just-” you moved away from him as he paused.

“I need you to leave me alone. I don’t need you in my life,” you saw his tears falling from his eyes as your heart began to ache more and more.

“I have to get home, I’m running late,” you sniffled, before you wiped your eyes.

“Goodbye, Isaac,” you walked away from him as he stood frozen, holding back his cries.

Your heart felt like it could leap out of your chest as you ran down the street, holding in your cries.

You knew you needed him, but you couldn't go through that pain, not again.

#teen wolf #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fics #isaac lahey #isaac #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey one shot #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey angst #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x platonic!reader

282 notes · View notes

sly-merlin · 4 years

Text

killing me - 10 |n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: 5.3k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @suhweo @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424

@kafenetwork @neowritingsnet

K.M masterlist

k.m9 next

Previous night

“What the fuck were you spitting out there hmm! Have you lost your mind? Why aren’t you answering me you shit!”

jaehyun avoided prying when mark and yuta were arguing but he couldn’t keep it in anymore. mark shifted the gears to park the car in the middle of nowhere, tense silence hugging all of them. jaemin was annoyed with jaehyun’s endless remarks at mark but it was hyuck who was most confused as he was unable to form any kind of judgement.

“why did you stop the car now? Its midnight-

“can you stop drunk talking hyung. I can’t drive like this!”

“I’m very sober. Its you whose brain is dead mark. Did you even notice yuta’s face when you-

“just stop hyung. I’m not ashamed of what I said there. I stand by each and every word! Now can we go back home or do you have anything else?

“you can’t be real! He has done so much for you all these years and this is how you repa-

“yes exactly! He has made so many sacrifices for me all these years, that’s why its my responsibility to show him the right way that he is clearly not following at all and you all are partly responsible for it! You are feeding his selfish ego by showing him hollow sympathy but that’s gonna bite him in the ass at end.”

“woah woah tiger. So what you gonna do? Instruct him how to live his life. Are you making him realise that he doesn’t hate y/n when he clearly cant stand her presence for even a minute and by some miracle, even if you end up pacifying yuta, then what about that cold hearted queen! She’s just here t-

“she is not here on her own! And I am not going to repeat myself, so fix it in your head hyung. She is not here to replace anyone!! Yuta hyung just hates the thought of her coerced and fortuitous presence in his life and I’m not trying to create a miracle here. I just want our lives back to normal and I’ll go to every extent to make it possible!” his chest heaved up and down as the anger subsided a bit, his heart feeling at ease after getting his thoughts out. Jaehyun only scoffed at him.

“you are too naïve markie. This is not how emotions work.”

“this is the only way emotions work hyung!” with that said, he shifted the gear, driving on the road with the same silence lurking again but he felt better. much better.

“who do you think is right?” hyuck whispered in jaemin’s ear, in the hope that he would solve his dilemma.

“I don’t know but I’d love if she stays forever. We are missing one member anyway” he whispered back earning a small tight lip smile from donghyuck who fell into a deep slumber right after that.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.” He glared, the strong eye contact not lasting for too long as he tried to lift himself up from the floor.

Meanwhile you kept observing him, biting your left thumb, feet glued to the ground. your eyes followed his hobbled travel from the kitchen to the couches from where you heard his long sigh of relief as he placed his leg on the table while stroking his knee. his head fell on the couches and suddenly your conscience kicked in while watching his painful expressions. You found yourself sluggishly walking out of the kitchen with careful steps to avoid the spill, sleepiness fading away.

Yuta’s scraped elbow was in the vision as you neared him. He was still nursing his knee, elbow forgotten by now. Maybe it was the momentary pain! you deliberated about asking him first but then remembered that you don’t have to communicate with him to show that you were still human! So you quietly went to bathroom to find your first aid kit that you placed somewhere the day you settled your stuff. It was not easy to locate it with the lack of cooperation of your hands and mind in the current state, but still you tried your best.

With same motion you went back. Yuta’s hand was still cupping the knee but his features seemed to be much more peaceful than before. But you still approached hesitantly and placed the box on the table, near his foot.

“have a seat please. We have some unfinished business here beautiful!” he sneered, signalling you to sit beside him.

“no thanks. I have work to do.” You tiredly replied, moving away.

“I.Said.Sit.Here! I also wanna experience the thrill of whinning like a baby!

“oh please , I have nothing to fear! Just call him already. I’ve work to do!” you told him in stern voice while circling the table to sit far away from him.

Yuta smirked a little at your show of bravery when anyone could see right through you at the moment. Your eyes were half shut, shoulders slumped down but still upright when it came to fighting him. But yuta clearly knew he had the upper hand this time.

Or he thought!

Your heartbeat sped up with each ring. Very dramatically , yuta had put the phone on speaker to prove his point.

After 5 rings, tayeong picked up and so did your pulse.

“who it is?” a yawn filled voice was heard from the other side.

“are you still sleeping bitch?” yuta inquired with annoyance.

“ye-yes. We cleared the month last night so everyone is sleeping. What el-

“just wake up! I’ve something important to tell!”

“later. I’m bus-

“its about your precious y/n!”

“is she gone?” it sounded like he was suddenly awake!

“tsk tsk. The fuck is your problem? Do you even care about my wellbeing or should I find a new father!” yuta growled at him, his voice pierced through your ears.

“I’ll call her myself!”

“like she would tell you about her plan to lay my 6 feet under the ground!”

Yuta heard a deep sigh from the other side.

“this story better be good coz I don’t wanna lose my sleep ov-

“this is not a story. She spilled water to make me slip and –

“and kill you. what kind of man dies after a little slipping! Huh!”

“have you adopted her or something taeyong! Your attitude is fucking me up. Can you hear me for once or do you-

“what do you wanna say exactly! That you slipped and broke your legs and arms. Make it believable yuta. She might be a bit bitchy but can’t be that evil.”

“so I am a bitch!” your sleepy and cold voice interrupted.

“no no , I meant-

“It was unintentional. i didn’t even know he was home. And it was him who decided to barge in when I was finding food. He was not even invited into the kitchen in the first place!”

“but I got hurt and it was because-

“hurt? you mean as in injured! Oh god. You can’t come back then. take leave for a few days if you are hurt badly and call jun , he’ll be there with medicines and bandages. Consider this an extension of the suspension but you aren’t leaving the hous-

“fuck you taeyong! I hope you die in your sleep!!”

Slamming the phone on the table, he pulled at his roots, lidded eyes boring into you.

“you’ll pay for this.” his finger threateningly pointed towards you.

You let out a yawn before getting up to leave the space to him,

“whatever just don’t finish the spray bottle. Its new”

After that you didn’t hear anything from yuta or anyone.

And it just went like that for 2 more weeks!

“why don’t you shift to the dorms for two months! You can hang out with minjun while he complete his reports.”

“so you want me to lose my sleep and baby your baby?” you snickered, slurping the soup a bit louder this time.

“I’m not a baby!” minjun whined.

“oh you are!” a collective response resounded through the room and your reached out to pet minjun’s hair but he swatted your hand away in annoyance.

“no seriously shortie. You’d be alone for a whole month. Even chelin is going home this time. you can spend some time with junie and he’d treat you to homemade food Is it tempting enough?” jungkook suggested.

“not that I’m any interested in the offer but I can teach you the Japanese you were talking about earlier.” At minjun’s comment, everyone raised their brows, silently questioning your new interest.

“what? You all are so nosy. My new roommate is always dissing me in Japanese and I can’t answer that fucker coz I don’t understand anything he spits out at me.”

“HE?” another group chant resonated.

“why is your roommate a man?” yugyeom added.

“because he was born a man!”

“haha very funny y/n l/n. what’s his name and is he from our university?”

“his name is nakamoto yuta and no, he’s not a student. And before you enquire, he’s home only for like few hours so you don’t need to worry him being a pervert or anything.”

“where is your new residence anyway?” you almost choked at yugyeom’s sudden interruption but it confirmed your suspicion that jungkook hadn’t revealed anything yet.

“instead of me, shouldn’t you love birds be worried about the unbearable separation that’d last for a whole month. How are you gonna cope with it gyeom? Especially when yeong is going to be in Incheon and you in busan, stuck with the sweaty sports team and jungkook, who’d be slapping with you with kisses every now and then, thinking you are min-

A shove of dumpling into your mouth caused you to inhale back all the words that were supposed to leave.

“if you don’t wanna meet, then atleast call him daily after your moon internship and he can also accompany you to busan if you want.”

The colour of the air faded at the mention. Slowly, you swallowed the piece in your mouth , instantly finding a distraction to lighten the mood.

“why are these so delicious?”

Rummaging through the empty boxes, jungkook found the pamphlet and shoved it in your face which you curled into a ball and threw towards minjun, hitting him right in the face.

“yaa jun. keep it safe. We’ll order while watching movies and take keys of this house from your boyfriend,” you ordered, pointing to jungkook, “and his Netflix password and his wallet and if he allows, his car ke-

“shut your mouth love-hater!” jungkook exclaimed while stuffing your mouth with two dumplings. And everyone else just laughed at your troubled state, silently agreeing with jungkook’s statement.

What a good day to be a foodie!

Three days!

Taeil had granted you three days to de-stress yourself before you’d be joining your so called trainer for a self defence training program of two months. You wondered who could it be but it was definitely not the person you wished for! Johnny had been in france since two weeks, right from the day your exams started. He left his phone at home but he did contact you through a payphone to wish luck for exams. Since then, it’d been complete silence from the other end. You didn’t even know whether you really missed his presence or just the thought of being with someone who really showed some care for you.

eat, tv, sleep repeat seemed to be a very reasonable routine! your happiness had elevated when you saw a notification of chois about a job opening. Though you wanted to start from an internship in the main office but a moderate salary job as an assistant researcher of a junior lawyer wasn’t so bad as well!

no. actually it was awful seeing how much over-qualified you were for this job but with all the diminishing digits in your wallet, there was some significant scope for the bargain in your situation. But you still had to wait for 2 weeks for the acceptance of your application that would take you a step closer to your dream. Just two more weeks!

Is he still alive, you thought before leaving the kitchen, ready to finish the homemade meal.

High on a happy chemical , you cooked yourself ramyeon and eggs and completed your fancy dinner with a bottle of coke.

While slipping out of the kitchen , your eyes fell on the clean sink reminding you of the presence that you hadn’t felt since the last week.

“I’ll accompany jeno. We’ll be done in two minutes” yuta proposed with a lopsided grin.

The place was more livelier with yuta’s return. Not that he wasn’t already present, but the day he returned to his usual routine was when everyone got their sunshine back. He acted like nothing has changed but still noone could ignore his overcautiousness. He was engaging too much as if to make up for the lost time and not that anyone objected for they were happy to see the old yuta with old ways. Just something was odd!

While most of them were oblivious, others understood what he was hiding behind that façade. They had noticed how he took late night activities just to avoid being sent home or how he took jaehyun and mark with him to avoid any interaction with you.

But the most irksome was how day by day,he was drifting apart from taeyong.

“do you wanna take him home?” taeil snapped his fingers in front of your eyes as you registered his words. You were looking or shamelessly staring at the face of the man. He was dangerously tall as compared to you but his face was shining brighter than the sun itself. Your head snapped towards him again as taeil went on,

“don’t stare like you are gonna eat him y/n.” jungwoo eyes were dancing in the whole room as he avoided your curious ones. You didn’t mean to be creepy but you were having a hard time believing that the man sitting in front of you was a street fight champ and a former drug lord’s son. He seemed too….human.

“who’s staring?” you feigned innocence, looking at taeil.

“way to go advocate!” he said before continuing , “as I told you, jungwoo is a trained fighter, assassin and has a strong grip on pistols. Seeing what you can carry, a pistol is best for you. and jungwoo is a softie here so he won’t even give you a scratch during the training. But you have to actually listen to him or I’ll assign someone that won’t go easy on you.

“like?”

“like ten or jeno, they both don’t have any control over where they are hitting once they start so either you can cooperate with jungwoo or be ready to break some of your limbs.”

“how subtle taeil. but I can work with him.” you smiled at jungwoo which was returned with a shy one.

“okay then. Take care of each other and if you need anything then I’m not home.” Ad with a wave , he was gone.

“what do you wanna start with?” jungwoo asked in a small voice.

“you are teacher so whatever you say.”

“okay them. we’ll start with grip practice.” He got up, signalling you to follow him.

You ended up in a small part of the basement. It was divided into two sections with a glass used as the separation. Raw grass kind hard padding was attached to the walls on the both sides. On the other side of the wall were pasted two targets looking like giant sized dart boards that you suppose were for the practice.

While you were glancing around, jungwoo came back with a small metal box. He opened it to reveal a matt black pistol that looked even smaller when he held it.

“you can’t start with a semi-auto one just yet so for basics this is good for you. though I’m here but please don’t drop it. it belongs to taeyong hyung and he doesn’t know it’s here so please don’t mention it either.” He pleaded in a soft voice to which you found yourself nodding, copying his motion.

“so , you don’t need to memorise every part of a pistol but remember the few terms so if you ever held a new gun or pistol, someone can instruct you as to the handling of it.” you kept nodded as he went on,

“this is the exposed barrel, slide stop, safety lever , trigger and trigger guard and the most important magazine, if its empty ,your body would become the home of enemy bullets. Try clicking the safety lever!”

You did as he instructed. For about thirty minutes, he taught about pulling the barrel that drained your wrists of all the strength they had. He let you go only when he was sure you won’t forget the basics, atleast not until tomorrow.

You hadn’t felt this exhausted in your life as much as you did in the last week. If Thesis research and jungwoo’s lessons were not enough then minjun’s new found love of photography was surely doing its work on your body. Who knew holding flowers and leaves for aesthetic photos was so much draining! And the time you were alone at home was spent sleeping and that too only if yuta and his gang were not screeching out their lungs, fighting with someone online with no regard for the well-being of others in the house. You knew he was aware of his actions but with zero communication, even you didn’t bother pointing him out.

But when had avoidance created peace!

12:30 p.m

As you flipped the glossy leaves of the photo album, the three humans behind that transparent film seemed to come alive, albeit in your memories. Pausing at every page, you tried to live those moments once again ,just like every year. Though you and that photo album were bound by a thread of sadness, the memories it contained made you feel immense joy that was incomparable for you.

The small album was the only memory that reminded you of the family you had once! and today was the day you’ll go to meet them again.

Busan was not that far away but the location of the graveyard added a whole hour to the already 3 hour long journey. You were supposed to meet your orphan warden at the station directly and like every year she'd be accompanying you to Busan so you could meet them. Even though you were a grown-up now , she didn't had the heart to let you go alone. So it had became a tradition.

After memorizing every picture, you got up to get ready for the long journey. Taeil had excused you for this weekend so there were no worries from his side. you rotated the doorknob to open but it didn’t budge.

You shoved your body against the door but nothing happned! Though you didn't want to rely , there was only one option left!

"yuta!" You shouted in a hope that his lazy ass would respond but silence replied instead.

"yuta! Can you hear me. I'm locked!" You tried again, both shouting and trying the knob, banged the door but none worked in your favour.

Then realisation dawned on you! Why won't he hear anything when he was right outside the room! because he didn't want to!

"yuta I swear I'm gonna kill you! let me out!"

Raking your hands through your hair, you decided to find your phone but it looked like the whole universe was conspiring against you as the phone was not in the room. you had probably left it on the kitchen counter earlier. The only communication you had was with yuta and he was not listening to you , delibrately!

Your fist met the door with all the power you could muster but only the echo was heard which fainted within few seconds.

"fuck you yuta" you mumbled dejectedly before throwing yourself on the mattress. Contempt filled your heart as you watched the fan moving endlessly and your mind grasped the reality that maybe you won't be visiting them. Not if he didn't open the door. But he couldn't lock you for years!

And whenever that door opens , you'll make sure to close it forever.

"eat slugs , haechan!" Yuta exclaimed into the microphone, killing another of haechan's Avatar in the game. He winced as haechan groaned loudly, trying to get some pity out of yuta.

Calling it a day, he teared the headphones away , the sudden silence bringing peace to his ears. Stretching his limbs, he got up but as he trudged for the kitchen, he heard a knock that didn't come from the front door.

He stopped abruptly as if to check if his mind was playing games on him but he heard it again, this time a fainted one.

His stopped in front of your room and slapped his hand against the door , checking his suspicious. Another fast and hard bang came in response and he rotated the knob to open but nothing happened. Forcing his body against the door, a metal dropping sound reached him before the door opened. Without even glancing at you, he leaned and picked up the screws that were stuck in the door hinges. But before he could show you those, you pushed him backward, releasing all the anger at once.

"what the fuck is wrong with you!" Not paying any attention to any of his words, you searched for your phone that you found on the counter and shot your warden an apologetic message. The orphan was near the station so you were sure she won't have waited for more than thirty minutes but you knew she'd have been worried for you.

Quickly working , you called taeyong while running for the main door, a confused yuta following you.

"you are home taeyong?" You asked him while wearing your shoes and exited , ignoring yuta's perplexed questions.

Yuta stood in the doorway, contemplating what the heck he had witnessed!

18:30

Taeyong jerked forward on his chair as you slammed open the door of his office and marched in. When you called earlier , he thought you were going to complain about something that yuta did but the heat of the anger radiating through your body was enough to burn his senses from a distance.

"sit and calm-

"I'm not here to witness your hospitality Lee taeyong. Relieve me of the agreement here and now. my way or your way! I don't wanna live under the same roof wi-

"why are you shouting so much?" Jaehyun interrupted ,entering the room in a swift motion. Following him were few others who might have been awakened by your outburst.

"shut up jaehyun! For once do something with your worthless life" you spit out, eyes boring into jaehyun's.

"can you atleast tell me what has happened!"

To answer taeyong , you moved forward, resting your hands on the head of a chair continued,

"yuta locked me today. My phone was outside in the kitchen. I shouted , pleaded but he didn't open the door for 5 hours. I was supposed to go to Busan but that motherfucker don't ha-

"Busan? Your hometown?" Taeyong disrupted your speech,

"f-for my parents' death anniversary! I was suppose to visit their graves like every year.b-but he chose today of all days to play his little revenge games on me." With broken voice and tears threatening to spill, you managed to proceed,

"i don't wanna live with him anymore. I didn't sign up for this torture. Kill me for all you want but don't try to convince me into staying with that bastard!" Your nails holed into the leather chair, creating small crescents on the surface.

Uncomfortable silence fell over the whole room . As you turned around to leave, you were met with yuta's figure. His hand motioned to reach you but you closed the distance before he could.

"i hope you enjoyed it today!" With venom laced words, you finalised your proposition by flinging the ring straight into his face, his face scrunching at the hit , before walking past him.

"hyun-

Before taeyong could complete, taeil was already was on your heels.

"why do you have to be an asshole yuta?"

" i didn't do anything!" He started as he picked up the ring from the floor, “the door was ja-

“you shouldn’t have stooped so low nakamoto yuta!” tayeong growled with eyes glistening with fire.

“what now?” yuta’s jaw clenched at jaehyun’s nonchalant words. Pocketing his annoyance for him, he opened his mouth to explain himself,

“nothing now ok! I did nothing.i didn’t lock her and certainly didn’t try to forbid from going anywhere. She wa- the door was jammed due to some loose screws. I had to push it so it’d open. I-i-I wasn’t even aware of her plans. Heck, you can ask hyuck. I was playing with him for 6 hours straight. I had headphones in my ears all that time and you know how much hyuck yells. Even if she was stuck, there was not a sound that reached me taeyong. I was as oblivious to all this as much as you all were till now and knowingly, I won’t ever do anything so harsh. You know me very well! don’t you?” he ended with a hopeful question glancing at everyone in the room. With each passing second, his anxiousness elevated at the silent and calculating faces of everyone.

“you don’t believe me, do you?” his broken voice resembled the one they just heard few minutes ago.

“no yuta.i-its not like that . message taeil hyung about all this so he can calm her down.” Taeyong muttered with eyes searching up yuta’s for any malice he might be planning but found nothing. he was innocent.

But yuta panicked at his words, “why? I can explain by myself. It’s not that difficult. I can handle her taeyong.” he turned for the door but taeyong’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“you think so! You should be glad you are alive yuta”

“then release us taeyong. I’m begging you, LET HER GO!” the shout that echoed was enough to send shivers through every living being in the vicinity.

“I will. If taeil hyung say so. Message him yuta and you should know I don’t repeat my words without expense!”

He did as told, head hung low to avoid the pity looks that were thrown his way!

“don’t follow me taeil!”

“I’ll stop if you’ll stop!” taeil politely replied, tracking your steps on the sidewalk. He tried to obstruct your way but ended up following you instead. 15 minutes had passed since you both left the house but your anger was not simmering down and you were stunned at his patience.

“you can’t walk till university.” You deadpanned.

“neither can you.”

Stopping abruptly, you faced him, “you can’t stop me taeil.”

“I won’t. but the bus driver would. Even pretty girls don’t get a free ride home.” You groaned at his unnecessarily true words. He was right, you had nothing on you except for the phone.

He silently observed your slumping body, before walking a step closer to check the waters. When you didn’t push him away, he lightly took your hand in his, tugging you to come along.

“I don’t wanna go with you.” your hushed voice gave him some courage to proceed further,

“we aren’t going home. Lets just sit”

He dragged you to the park you had passed just five minutes ago. Sitting on the bench , he asked you to explain everything that had happened in the last 6 hours. You recited the whole story till the end where you threw the ring at yuta. Taeil only hummed in response when he heard a buzz from his phone.

Reading yuta’s message , he suddenly knew where to start!

“read this y/n.” he said before giving you the phone.

You absorbed each and every word written. It made sense. But did it?

“he’s lying.” You scoffed , returning the phone.

“he’s not.”

“ofcourse you’ll take his side.”

“and why would I do that?”

“he’s your brother”

“and you are my sister”

“no I’m not. I never would be.” You retorted, hiding the effect his words had on you.

“I might not be your brother but you can’t stop me from calling you my sister and I’d prefer you over yuta anyday.”

“but you still think I’m lying and he’s right”

Taeil massaged the back of his neck, clearly getting annoyed by your snapping.

“when did I say you are lying? I just said he’s not lying.”

“isn’t it the same thing?”

“no its clearly not. You just don’t wanna admit that you misunderstood!”

Uncrossing your legs, you faced him, “ because I am not in the wrong here. he is ! he did it so he can have the house all to himself while I’m locked. The truth is he hates my guts. He wont ever pass an opportunity against me!”

“and like you love his guts! Your hatred for him is the reason that you don’t wanna believe he’s innocent. Your heart wants to believe that everything that had unfolded after that night is yuta’s fault. You don’t wanna believe because you just don’t want to! You are rejecting his reason because your mind says its the perfect chance to break taeyong! your anger and emotions are playing games with you and you are letting them! and this is exactly what yuta had been doing from the very first day! He’s no different than you. No matter how much you discard it, the truth won’t change! Impulsive actions lead you nowhere!” His polite yet authoritative voice was providing inputs that you didn’t want to believe. Not yet.

“I just wanted to go to busan taeil. If he hadn’t been home the-

“if he hadn’t been home , then you would not have even made it out! And I’m sure you have heard him playing games. He’s a loudspeaker and believe me haechan is yuta part two. I’m sure he didn’t hear you.”

“but why would anyone even care! I’m the one at loss here.”

“what loss. Just because you missed it today doesn’t mean you can’t go tomorrow and If you want i can take you there. we can go right now! But y/n , loved ones live in your heart!. You don’t need a day to show them your respect and love. They know you and they watch over you. don’t crumble under the weight of customs and rituals. We’ll go tomorrow morning. Be ready by 8 a.m !” his soothing voice managed to calm the storm but you weren’t going to budge from your first condition.

“I don’t wanna go back with him.”

He sighed heavily before pressing his phone to his ear,

“taeyong. replace yuta in france. For two months and I don’t want any further discussion.”

You sniffled, finally letting out the tears that were in the waiting since the morning.

“I can drop you to the dorm for tonight until he packs his stuff and you can go back home tomorrow. Sounds right?” he described his plan , petting your hair.

You weakly nodded, letting him ease your worries with sympathetic words that you didn’t even know you needed!

next morning

Uncomfortable silence welcomed you as you entered the house. You were told that he was gone and it sounded about right with the present atmosphere.

After finding the fruits, you made you way to the room but stopped in your tracks as you spotted something on the counter.

Three moulded screws were placed on a paper along with the ring that you thought would never be seen by you again. you breath quickened as you read the words on the plain paper

I’m sorry!

What were you supposed to do with it now?

**********************

thank you for reading ! feedback is always appreciated \(￣︶￣*\))

🎈

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #neowritingsnet #kafenetwork #nct mafia #nct angst #nct arrange marriage #yuta mafia #yuta angst #yuta arrange marriage #yuta #yuta series #nct series #yuta scenarios

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clemanime · 4 years

Text

Medic

Hi! Could you do a SPN one where the reader gets badly injured on a hunt in a sensitive place ((breasts, lower down) . When sam is patching her up he sees she gets turned on. Turns out she loves she loves medical kink and roleplay ensues :)

A/N: I didn’t know there was a medical kink and after a deep and interesting dive. I’ve got it. Also... I know that i said after answering that ask that it would be next day delivery but I lost the package.

WARNING: medical play, smut, over stimulation, pain, slight blood, hardcore, full nelson if you really think about it...

Sam cradled her as he moved into the hotel room. “Are you sure you’re alright? You got hurt pretty bad out there.” Sam questions, kicking the door and placing her on the bed. He allowed her to adjust herself as he locked the door before grabbing a med kit from his duffel bag.

“I’m alright Sammy.” She sighs as she unbuttons her shirt. “I mean, yeah it’s not everyday I get cut on my left tit, but I’ve been cut before.” She winced at the dull pain in her shoulder. “Who even attacks a woman’s boobs? It’s a low blow.”

“Here.” Sam mumbles, helping her out of her shirt. “Let me patch you up at least. It looks like a deep cut.”

“It’s gonna leave a scar.” She pouts.

“You’ve already got some. What’s one more?” He jokes, reaching for her breast but stopping. “Is it alright if...”

“Sam... you’ve touched my thigh when I got that splinter.” She laughs. “And my ass when I scraped it jumping that fence.”

“You thighs and ass are different from your breasts Y/n.” He grumbled. “Besides that you were drunk the time you jumped that fence.”

“You still touched it.” She rolls her eyes. “Come on I’m getting blood on my favorite bra.” She pulled the cup of the bra down, causing Sam to pause and look away. He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding making contact with her perking nipple.

Sam grabbed her breast, carefully examining the cut to see how deep it is, his large hand covering her as well as keeping her warm. When he decided she needed stitches he let go, leaving her exposed and cold. She bit her bottom lip, sitting in silence as he worked, being careful not to fuck up the stitch because he knew she’d kick his ass. His wrist brushed against her nipple and she closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh. “You okay there?” He noticed her shifting slightly.

“I’m fine. Just... finish up will ya.” She bites her lip.

“Right.” Sam continues to take his time, wanting to test a theory that he formed in his mind. The pad of his middle finger pressed against the beginning of her stitch, pulling a small moan from her. She looks at Sam, furrowing her brows as an embarrassed expression found its way to her features.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” She narrowed her eyes.

“No.” He gave her an apologetic expression which gave him away.

“I know you want to ask me something so spit it out Sammy.”

“Do you... like...” He starts to blush slightly.

“Don’t be shy now.” She smiled. “My breast is out and in your big ass hand. And you just made me moan by poking my stitch.”

“Do you like pain?” He questioned.

“Something like that.” She nods. “I’ve got a kink. It involves a Doctor and me being a patient. Why do you think I didn’t go with you to the hospital when Dean got hurt pretty bad? It wouldn’t be inappropriate for a woman such as myself to be fantasizing about one of the doctors sticking a gloved finger inside of me.” Sam seems taken aback, staring at her for a moment before clearing his throat. “So now you know that I’ve got a Medical Kink. Are you gonna finish with my boob so I can go take a shower and masturbate or just sit there with your mouth open and stare?”

“I knew you didn’t hold back but shit.” Sam chuckled, finishing off the stitch and tying it off. He stands up, going into the med kit and stopping for a moment to think. “Take the rest of your clothes off Y/n.” He spoke when he grabbed one of the gloves from the kit.

“What?” Her voice broke as she looked at the large mans back. “Sam what are you getting at?”

“It’s Dr. Winchester to you.” He turned, fixing the glove onto his hand as he looked down at her. “I need to do a full examination on you to make sure that you don’t need anymore stitches.”

“Wait... Sam do you know what you’re doing?” She stands up, staring at him. “This is a fantasy of mine. If I get into it there’s no turning back.”

“Miss...” He steps forward. “Calling me by my first name is very unprofessional. This is a Doctor-Patient relationship. We’re not close friends.” Sam noticed a switch flip in her eyes almost like her usual open attitude was thrown in a cage.

“Yes Doctor.” She keeps her eyes locked wit his, stripping herself of the rest of her clothes. “Where do you want me? I can go over there.” She points towards the round table in the kitchen.

Sam takes her in, surprised at how obedient she was but making sure to stay in character. “That would be a good idea. As soon as you’re comfortable. We’ll begin the examination.” She moved quickly, sitting on the table and staring at Sam as he grabbed the kit and walks over to her. He sets the kit down next to her, smirking as her eyes followed his gloved hand. “How am I supposed to begin when you still have clothes on?” She squirms slightly, getting up and taking her underwear and bra off. “Good. Now lay back and open your legs.”

She does as told, hands at her sides as she grips the edge of the table. Her legs are wide open, her womanhood exposed. “It hurts there too Doc. Please make it feel better.”

Sam smirked, leaning forward. “I’ll make the pain go away.” He presses the pad of his rubber covered thumb against her clit, sending a jolt through her body. Her eyes fluttered shut as she let out a moan. “Seems like you’ve made a mess here.” He looked from her sopping cunt to her eyes. “Bad girl. You’re going to mess up the table at this rate.” She gasps, climaxing. Sam hums, watching her body relax after a few moments. “This is going to be a difficult examination if you’re going at this rate.”

“S- Doctor Winchester... it’s been a minute since my last examination so please be gentle.” She breathed out.

He stood between her legs, watching her as she moved hand to her stitch. “I’ll do my best.” Sam pushed his thick fingers into her, moving them around to find her sensitive button to push. She gasps when his long finger poked at an area near her cervix. “Hm. Let’s see.” He smirks. She pushed to hard on her stitch, popping it and causing some blood to trail down her skin. Her hand gripped his wrist, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Do I need to strap you down?” He questions. “If you stop my examination again I’ll be forced to do so.” She whimpered, letting him go. “That’s a good patient. Now. I’m going to need to you have a taste of something. To see if your taste-buds are still in tact.”

She lays back, watching as Sam got on his knees, wasting no time to latch his hot mouth against her needy mound. She cried out, hand going to a bruise on her thigh. She pushed down on it with her thumb, body jerking. “Doctor!” She climaxed, her juices shooting out into Sam’s palm as he continued to probe her sensitive area.

“Look at my little patient.” Sam chuckled, his voice low and husky. “You get off on the pain. Tell me. After enduring intense physical pain do you indulge? Do you touch your cuts and bruises when you get off?” Her body relaxed but Sam didn’t give her enough time. She whimpered her response, eyes closing as she tried to relax. “I need a response.”

“I do.” She replied. “After a hunt I lay in bed poke at my bruises.”

“Such an honest Patient.” Sam smirked as he undid his jeans, pushing them down. “For your honesty... I’ll give you a sucker. But before that you need your dose of protein.”

“Th-thank you Doctor.” She opened her legs wider, spreading her cunt as she stared up at Sam. “I’ve been lacking.”

“Naughty Patient.” Sam pushed into her, mouth falling open at how tight and wet she is. His thrusts started at a fast pace, gloved hand moving up and down her thighs, making sure to put the right amount of pressure on her bruises that had formed. He groaned, when she tightened even more around him. “Shit Y/n.” He draped her legs over his arms, his large hands holding the back of her neck as he forced her to watch his cock disappear inside of her. “Look at that... fuck.” He looked at her face, enjoying the way she was losing herself. He leaned forward, going in for a kiss but stopping himself. He settled on kissing her freshly opened stitch, feeling her body trembling.

“F-fuck Sammy!” She moaned, her eyes going from his to his cock as he continued to pound into her. “R-ruin me S-Sammy!”

“I plan on it.” Sam took the glove off, tossing it across the room and pulling out. He grabbed her by her arm, walking over to the full length mirror and grabbing a chair. “I didn’t expect you to be so...”

“Freaky?” She chuckled, looking at him as he sat in the chair. Without responding, Sam turned her around, pulling her back so that she was sitting on his lap. He grabbed the back of her legs and pulled them apart, taking her by surprise at the view she had through the mirror. “Sam! What are you doing!?”

“Don’t be shy now.” He smirked, kissing her shoulder blade. “You watched me fuck your little pussy just a minute ago.” He lined her up with the head of his cock, teasing her. He pushed his head in and pulling it back out. She felt like she could release with that action alone.

“When did we go from Roleplaying to th-” Her sentence was cut off when Sam buried himself back into her, pulling a string of swears that came out in a slur. She fell back into his chest, struggling to keep her eyes open as Sam looked at her through the mirror. “You’re an evil man Sam Winchester.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “Now sit up and watch the show.” He helped her sit up just enough so that she could see his throbbing cock stretching her out. She couldn’t take anymore, her body still trembling. “Don’t stop looking.” Sam thrust his hips upward, watching her clench in the mirror. “Look at you baby.” He chuckled. “Having my cock inside of you really makes you shake.”

“Please Sammy! I can’t take anymore!” She felt herself orgasm, screaming at the top of her lungs as her hands reached for Sams thighs to stop him but failing her. His hand moved towards her stomach, as the other moved to her neck.

“Everyone probably heard that one.” He picked her up, still inside of her and placed her on the bed, staying behind her as his large hand grabbed her neck and the other pressed against her ass cheek. “Whenever you cum you have this look on your face that I can’t get enough of.” He pulled her up, looking at the shocked expression on her face. “Like one of those girls in the Cartoon porns that Dean watches.”

“You’re telling me...” She pants. “That I look like Hentai girl?”

“You said it.” Sam started thrusting, staring deep into her eyes. She let out strangled moans, legs about to give out on her as he picked up his pace. The large hand on her ass moved to her mouth, two of his digits invading the space between her lips. Her eyes closed, body shaking violently as another climax racked over her. She was overstimulated at this point. He let her go, watching her fall into one of the pillows to which she squeezed. “It’s like you’re assuming I’m done. I haven’t given you the protein I promised Little Patient.”

“Oh fuck.” She moaned into the pillow. Sam pushed her chest into the mattress as he pushed himself further in to the point where she could feel him hit her cervix. She bit the pillow as she tried to move away but stayed stagnant.

“I don’t mind carrying you to the car when the time comes. So let me hear that sweet voice of your.”

He pounded into her relentlessly, her moans turning into cries then to screams of pleasure. She’d probably kept a few people up at the rate. Her brain melted, drool leaking from her open mouth and eyes shut tight. Sam didn’t let up, keeping the same pace as he grew closer to his own release. His rhythm faltered, the tip of his cock hitting her cervix again. She clamped down on him, losing her voice with her final holler.

Sam spilled into her, leaning forward and biting her shoulder blade as he slowed. “Shit.” He huffed, turning her over so he could take a look at her wound. He ended up popping the rest of the stitches. When his eyes met hers, he quickly looked away. “I’m sorry if I went too far.” She looked broken. Her eyes blown with lust, hair a mess, bottom lip bleeding slightly from biting it to hard.

“Stitch me up.” Her voice came out hoarse and raw.

He moved quickly, putting clothes on and then the kit to stitch her up again. He cleaned her up and put one of his shirts on her. She instantly fell asleep, still holding the pillow.

Sam walked out of the hotel room, stopping when he noticed Dean leaning against the trunk of the Impala. “One thing to remember Sammy... motel walls are thin and my room is always next to yours.”

#Sam Winchester #sam x reader #sam smut #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader smut #sam x reader smut #main masterlist #masterlist

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soyouareandrewdobson · 3 years

Text

Dobbear! SYAC: The Master Review 6

I am so going to ruin someone’s childhood with that now, but...

guys, it had to be done!

Dashing and daring…

Courageous and caring!

Faithful and friendly…

With stories to share!

Doesn’t at all apply to this one artist…

Lesbian obsessed and each nerddom’s nightmare!

Dobby BEAR!

Whinning here and there and everywhere!

Making claims that are beyond compare…

This is our Dobby-Bear!

Yeah, if you can’t guess, around now is the time I am going to put down the kids gloves and will really dig into why SYAC is garbage. And a huge factor into this, is in part Dobson’s self insert past 2012.

The existence of the blue bear as Dobson officially calls it (or Dobbear as most people call it) is in my opinion rather baffling already in terms of design choices.

I get e.g. that Dobson wanted to distance himself of his past humanoid self inserts as much as possible. But why of all things a bear?

The fact I am focused on that may sound weird, but hear me out for a bit. For starters, I know that Dobson likes western animation. And seeing how western animation has for the longest time been dominated by anthropomorphic animals, I can understand why he would redesign himself as a funny cartoon animal.

But there are at least three things that feel weird about it. First, Dobson had made it clear in the past that he hates furries. So him actually redesigning himself as an anthropomorphic animal is kinda weird

In fact, Dobson himself acknowledges that realization in one of his strips shortly after his fursona took over.

Second, of all the animals to choose from, why a bear? This question is in so far valid, as that bears are not necessarily one of the first to go animals, furries or western animators tend to go for when designing an anthro. And before any furries or anthro enthusiasts are calling me a hater, let me make one thing clear: I like anthropomorphic cartoon and comic characters too, and am okay with most furries. As long as you don’t have a diaper fetish, are a pedophile or hurt actual animals, you can do and enjoy whatever you like.

But I am also aware enough of furry culture to know, that bear based anthros are most of the time hyper sexualized and muscular, connecting them to how the term “bear” is used in real life gay culture. Which is okay, I think it is just a funny coincidence that Dobson choose an animal, that most furries associate with a life style that Dobson is deeply afraid of, even if he claims to be an LGBT ally.

And as stated earlier, bears are not necessarily the go to animals for animators.

Don’t get me wrong, we all know some cartoon bears like Winnie the Pooh, Yogi Bear, Poh and the main cast of TaleSpin (btw, Kit Cloudkicker fan for life). But lets be honest here; ducks, mice, rabbits, canines, felines, equines and any other “easily to domesticate” animal in the real world tends to make better for easily recognizable cartoon characters than something that can reach a size of 3 meters tops and weigh over 500 pounds.

Truth be told, the pool of cartoon bears is so small, these are the first two things that came to my mind when thinking what may have inspired the Dobbear

And wouldn’t you know? According to Dobson, the Carebears were supposedly the main inspiration for his design.

Unfortunately, this is also more or less the most I could find of Dobson addressing what went into the creation of the character.

Which kinda brings me also to the third issue as why I think the bear redesign is weird; It is too sudden.

One day Dobson draws himself as a shaved 20 something, the next day he is a fedora wearing Carebear clone, likely created and then rejected by Care Bear villain No Heart, as part of a plot to create a mole when conquering Care-A-Lot.

… and now I need to reevaluate my choices in life, that I was able to make such an elaborate Carebear joke.

It is just a change of design that in my opinion should have been addressed either outside of the comic or in context of it. Which it kinda is, but isn’t.

See, this is the first strip with the blue bear

And then only 13 strips or so later in something called “Continuity” is Dobson more or less willing to address the change…

And he does so in a passive aggressive manner, with Persistent Pam as a stand in for those asking him what is going on, while Dobson just dismissively continues working.

On one hand, you can argue that this is just the joke. The change happened, don’t bother with it, just enjoy what is still to come. And you know, I don’t want to make a rope out of everything Dobson ever posted, including that comic.

But then you have also to account for the fact, that Dobson would eventually associate himself with the blue bear so much, he made him his avatar and icon for his comics and online accounts. In fact, that one comic I posted WAY BACK in the first Master post of Dobson reminiscing how he started SYAC?

For reasons that are a bit confusing to me, he redrew himself (badly I have to add) as the blue bear in one of his earliest strips ever. The one where he belittles the manga fangirl for drawing manga. So I have to ask, what is going on here? Has Dobson increasingly decided to reset his past? Does he want to destroy any traces of his “human” self in his work to create the illusion to any new readers, that he never was as controversial of a person as he was and that there never was a need for him to reimagine and reinvent himself? Is this 1984? And how many of you realize that this paragraph is just me going conspiracy nuts for the sake of entertainment?

But still, it is kinda weird that he went to the bother of redrawing his human self in that one background sketch as a bear. Plus, I honestly think Dobson never even attempting to “explain” the change in the pages of his comics is a wasted opportunity for some decent jokes. Like every time Dobson tries to explain why he is a bear now, something interrupts him or we only get fragments of a story that if we put them together would be as ridiculous as the entirety of “Trapped in the Closet”.

I mean, the dumbest joke idea I have in mind is that Dobson went to build a bear to get a present for a family member. Instead he was build into a bear and later on successfully sued the company, which explains why he can afford to live despite not really working on comics anymore but lecture people badly about the evils of nerd culture.

So yeah, three major things about the design choice that more or less confuse me.

But here is the thing: Confusion is nothing compared to feeling genuine disdain for the design at hand. And compared to Dobson’s earlier human designs, Dobbear is just utterly unlikable.

A lot of that boils down to the following three facts:

1. From a certain point in time on (which I will cover in more detail later on) Dobson uses his bearsona primarily as a soapboxing mouth piece to talk about “politics” in nerd culture. Or at least what Dobson perceives as politics, coming off like a condescending jackass who believes among other things that white people are inherently incapable to identify with black people…

… or that comic book shops have radicalized nerd culture, essentially calling them terror cells.

Which btw are so inherently offensive to me, I promise I will cover these two separately. One even sooner than the other.

2. If Dobbear is not talking about politics, he will tend to be a smug asshole to other people (most of the time strawmen) or their interests in one way or another. Being e.g. used by Dobson to express his disdain for criticism…

or to mock legit criticism he had gotten by exaggerating things.

All while also tending to make his critics look like inherent assholes.

These two facts, combined with Dobson’s average erratic behavior online on platforms such as dA, twitter and tumblr over the years, pretty much assured such a close association between the two, that a separation between artist and creation was not possible anymore, condemning them.

And for the record; Dobson was always a bit of a whinner who liked to act as if he was a better nerd than the average comic book fan. Otherwise, we would have not e.g. gotten Danny and Spot out of it.

But as the years went by in the last decade, Dobson turned from someone in his mid 20s, desperate to be seen as a “quirky” and likable internet persona (like certain internet reviewers), into a virtue signaling, lesbian obsessed asshole who likely regrets his life choices.

… Like certain internet reviewers.

But seriously, Dobson turned into someone who would flip the lid at something as ridiculous as Cheeto flavored chicken fries…

While also being just the worst type of condescending nerd….

All while losing his mind about politics. Especially after Donald Trump became president

And just as Dobson became a radicalized left winged jackass who saw politics in everything he consumed, so did by default Dobbear, because Dobbear was not a character with his own personality, but a mouth piece.

Something I am about to get into detail in the near future. But till then, I want to cover in the next post the following third and final fact about Dobbear that really makes him unlikable to me: The fact he can’t be happy.

#syac #Andrew Dobson #dobbear #tom preston #so...you are a cartoonist #review #master review #webcomic #comics

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Dying Words

Steve x reader x Bucky x Natasha\

Soulmates. The words that sent both fear and excitement up the spines of any who heard it. To have a soulmate was to acknowledge you had a weakness. Was to acknowledge you would have to lose them one day.

"Y/N! Natasha! Steve is trying to burn down the kitchen!" Bucky yelled as you and Natasha entered your shared floor.

"Don't listen to him! He's exaggerating!" Steve called out before a loud hiss and a curse came from the kitchen.

"Are we going to the hospital or not? I need to know if I have to leave my shoes on." Natasha said, pulling you into the kitchen.

"We don't have to go to the hospital." Steve scoffed. He was standing before a smoking stove and had Bucky looking over a burn on his arm.

"You have a blistering burn on your arm, you punk." Bucky sighed. "Baby doll where'd you put the first aid kit?"

"Cabinet over the fridge." You answered, moving to clean up the mess on the stove. "Christ Steve. What were you trying to make?"

"Pasta," Steve responded as Bucky began to rub numbing cream on his burn.

"It's all stuck to the bottom of the pot." You told him. "And burnt." You added, using a knife to try and cut the burnt pasta out of the pot.

"I liked that pot." Natasha sighed. "Steve, what have we said about you being in the kitchen unsupervised?"

"I've been practicing. Wanda said I've made progress." Steve whined as Bucky chuckled.

"Well, the kitchen's not on fire. So I suppose that's progress." Natasha said.

"I wanted to do something special for the three of you," Steve said as Bucky wrapped the still red, yet healing, burn. "We only have a couple more days together before we'll be apart for months. I wanted to do something special." He reiterated.

Steve was not wrong. The three of you had two more days together after tonight before you would be left alone for the next few months.

Steve, Natasha, and Bucky were all being sent out of the country. None of you were sure how long they would be gone but it would not be a quick mission.

"The thought is special, Stevie." You smiled at the blonde. "But in future, if you want to surprise us, order in."

"I'll keep that in mind." Steve smiled.

"Okay then. We have two days left together before we're forced to separate," Bucky begun, pulling you into his side. "I suggest none of us leave this floor until then."

"I could get behind that," Natasha smirked, snaking her arm around Steve's middle. "Two days with just the three of you. Don't have to see anyone else, don't have to get out of bed, don't have to wear clothes." She grinned, pressing a kiss to Steve's neck. "Just the four of us for two days long."

"That sounds really good." You said, leaning your head against Bucky's shoulder.

"That's three out of four. What do you say, Stevie?" Bucky asked the blonde.

"I'd say that sounds really good." Steve smiled at the three of you. "Two days. Just the four of us."

Day 1

"Why hello there." You grinned as two arms wrapped around your waist. "Did you sleep well?"

"It would have been much better if you were in bed with us." Natasha hummed.

"I was in bed with you." You denied.

"Yeah, but you didn't wake up with us," Natasha whined. "You got up at a normal time and you're showering as if you have somewhere to go."

"Maybe I just wanted you to join me in the shower." You smirked. "Did you ever think about that?"

"If that was your plan, you're an evil genius," Natasha stated. "God save us all if you try into a villain."

"Y/N can't be a villain," Bucky said, entering the large shower with Steve right behind him. "She's too sweet."

"Not as sweet as you, Buck." You said, squirting shampoo into your hand and massaging it into Natasha's scalp. "What's the go for today?"

"After the shower, I'll make us breakfast." Bucky started.

"Steve stay out of the kitchen." Natasha cut in as you carefully rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

"Then Steve wants to knock some of those movies off his list. After that, I thought you two could pick what we do." Bucky continued as if he had not been interrupted.

"Get ready to drunk bake with me," Natasha smirked. "I just got a box of vodka from Russia herself."

"Me and Steve can't get drunk," Bucky told the redhead. "Y/N doesn't drink to excess and at this point, even you can't get drunk on vodka."

"We can all still drink." Natasha shrugged. "It's much more fun to cook with vodka."

"The fire extinguisher's still good, right?' You asked Bucky, causing Steve to chuckle.

"Don't mock me while I have shampoo in my hands," Natasha said.

"I mean I love you and you're fantastic." You told her. Both boys laughed at your quick retraction as Natasha smirked in victory.

"That's what I thought you said."

"Steve you don't even like this movie! Why are we still watching this?" Bucky groaned.

"Because we already started it. And if we start something we have to finish it." Steve said.

"You can stop with the patriotic attitude. It's just a movie." You said, throwing a pillow at the Captain.

"That's it. I can't do this anymore. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you please stop the movie?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, Agent Romanoff." F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded.

"Natasha we were supposed to finish it," Steve complained.

"You don't care. You were on your phone twenty minutes ago." She waved him off.

"Okay we have watched three movies on your list and you hated the last two." You clapped your hands as you stood. "I say you remove any more movies Tony suggested from your list after that."

"I agree with Y/N," Bucky said as Natasha also rose.

"Next on the list vodka." Natasha proclaimed, moving into the kitchen.

"I thought it was baking?" Steve asked as you all followed her into the kitchen.

"Same difference." Natasha shrugged, opening the new crate of her favorite drink.

Natasha quickly poured four glasses as Bucky grabbed a selection of cake boxes from the cupboard.

"Which are we in the mood for today?" He asked.

"Whatever's highest in sugar." You told him as Natasha handed you your glass.

"Triple chocolate cake it is." Bucky nodded.

Twenty minutes after Bucky had chosen the box mix Natasha let out a sigh and pointed a spoon at you and Steve.

"When we said cooking, I thought we'd all make it. Not have you two just laze on your asses." She said.

"I am doing work. I'm making sure Steve doesn't step foot in the kitchen." You smiled.

"And I'm drinking just like you asked," Steve told her.

"We're dating a couple of smart asses," Natasha said to Bucky who nodded in agreement.

"You know what Steve? We are being terrible partners." You said, standing and moving towards your partners. "Let me help you with this darling." You took the spoon from Natasha's hand and flung a glob of the sweet chocolate at her face.

Bucky laughed at Natasha's face of surprise and you turned to him.

"You got something on your nose, hon." You told Buck, flinging another large chunk at him.

"Now you're in for it," Bucky said, reaching for you.

"Steve help me!" You called for the man as you dodged Bucky but ran into Natasha.

"No can do, Y/N, not allowed in the kitchen. Remember?" Steve smirked.

"Oh no, kotenok." Natasha mock cooed, passing you to Bucky who held you close. "It looks like you got a little something on you too." She said, holding the bowl in both hands.

"Nat don't you dare." You warned, wiggling in Bucky's hold.

"Sorry can't hear you," Natasha smirked, pouring the batter over your head.

"Nat no!" You squealed. "Now I have to go for another shower." You groaned, wiping the batter out of your eyes once Bucky let you go.

"Fortunately for you, I can help you here," Steve said, taking your hand and pulling you towards the bathroom.

"Thanks, Steve." You rolled your eyes.

"Unlike you two with the cake mix, we can be helpful too," Bucky said, moving to follow the two of you.

"Oh no. I think the two of you have a mess to clean up." Steve told the brunette.

"Maybe if you're quick enough you can join us in the shower." You said, pressing a kiss to Bucky's cheek before pulling Steve with you.

"That was fast," Steve commented once Natasha and Bucky entered the shower. "Are you sure you cleaned up the mess?"

"For the most part." Natasha shrugged, pulling you close. "You still smell so sweet, kotenok." She hummed.

"I can think of one thing we were supposed to add to today's schedule," Bucky smirked.

"Well we better hop to it then, shouldn't we?" Steve agreed with him.

Day 2

"I ordered the pizza, so I dib not getting it," Natasha said, curling into Bucky's side.

"And I'm just too warm right now to move." You said, pushing your back into Steve's chest. "So it's gotta be one of you boys."

"Well with reasons like that I can see why it has to be us." Bucky snarked. "Sorry, Stevie, but when the time comes it'll have to be you."

"Jerk," Steve mumbled into your hair. "Fine, I'll get the pizza when it comes."

"Thank you, Stevie." You smiled, leaning up to kiss the man.

"You're going to need to put pants on," Bucky told him.

"I'm going to need to find pants." Steve corrected him, lifting his head to scope out the bedroom floor.

"And a shirt," Natasha interjected. "We love this, but it's for us, not the delivery guy."

"Seconded." You agreed with the woman.

"I don't even know where my clothes are." Steve sighed, unwinding his arms so he could search for them.

"It's cold without you, Steve." You grumbled, rolling into Bucky's side.

"What are you going to do without us here?" Bucky teased, wrapping his arm around you.

"Freeze and get my own pizza." You quipped, pressing your face into his chest.

"Oh, poor baby," Natasha said, reaching over to hold your hand. "We're making you get your own pizza? We're monsters."

"You're not monsters. Fury's the monster for sending you on the mission." You told her, causing Bucky to chuckle.

"I'm going to tell him you said that," Bucky smirked.

"Don't you dare." You gasped, rolling on top of him. "Man'll kill me."

"Bucky's not cruel enough to do that," Steve assured you. "He wants to come back to you, not have you killed by Fury."

"You better all come back to me." You said, moving off Bucky and sitting up in bed. "I'll kill you otherwise."

"Terrifying from the woman who was covered in chocolate cake yesterday." Natasha teased you.

"That wasn't my fault." You whined.

"We promise to come back to you," Steve swore, sitting on the edge of the bed having found his pants.

"Can't have anyone else take our jobs of pizza collector and personal heaters, now, can we?" Bucky added with a smirk.

"Oh shut it." You laughed, hitting the brunette in the chest. "But seriously, you have to come back to me."

"We always do, kotenok," Natasha said. "Always." She repeated, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

"Your delivery has arrived." F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced, ruining the tender moment.

"Shirt, Steve," Natasha reminded as Steve stood.

"Yes, dear," Steve said, grabbing Buckys from the ground. "I'll be back with sustenance. Stay in bed."

"Wasn't planning on moving." Bucky murmured, pulling you and Natasha close.

"Hurry back, Steve." You called, relaxing into Bucky's hold.

Three months did not pass quickly, they seemed to crawl by like that of a snail.

No-one was allowed any contact with your partners or the team they went with.

You had no idea how close they were to being done, no idea if anyone was injured if they were captured and no idea as to if anyone were alive.

It was a Tuesday when you got a phone call. You had been in the kitchen reheating last night's leftovers as the phone rung shrilly with an unknown number.

"Hello, Y/N L/N speaking." You said, stepping away from the noise in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby doll." A gasp escaped your lips. Not at the sound of Bucky's strained voice but at the burning sensation in your thigh. Those three words were your soul mate words. And they were now burned into your skin upon your hearing of them. "Given the fact you're crying, I'd wager you got those words burnt into your skin?"

"Bucky please don't. Please don't tell me this is happening." You whispered, sinking to the ground.

"I'm sorry, baby doll, but we're dying." He told you somberly. "We don't have a lot of time but we just want you to know we love you.

"This can't be happening. Please don't do this."

"Can you please just say the words for me, baby doll?" Bucky begged you.

"I love you. God, I love you so much." You sobbed. "I love you so much it hurts, this can't be happening."

"I'm sorry kotenok but it is," Natasha said suddenly. Your sobs increased at the sound of her voice and the continued burning of your body.

"Nat, please, I can't lose you all. Please, I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N," Natasha choked. "But unfortunately this is what's happening and we can't do anything about it. We need to keep going after we're gone. The house we bought is finished, so if you need to go anywhere go there. Clint and Tony promised to look after you and check up on you if anything happened to us."

"I don't want them. I want the three of you." You shook your head. "I love you."

"I'm sorry we can't give you that," Natasha said, sadly.

"You promised me you'd all come back." You said. "You promised you'd come home."

"I know, and I'm sorry, but we can't come home," Steve said, causing another round of sobs from you.

"You have to come home, Steve. You have to and not just for me." You sobbed. "I'm pregnant, I'm going to have our child."

"Oh, God." Steve cried. You could hear relaying the news to your other partners as you continued to cry. "How far along are you?"

"Three months." You sniffed. "It's a little girl. Steve, please come home. Can you please all just come home?"

"I wish we could, Y/N. I wish we could. I love you, sweetheart. We all love you and we love our daughter. Tell that. Tell her that for us."

"I will." You nodded instantly. "I'll tell her every day."

"I'm sorry, we can't be there for her. Or for you." Steve apologized. "We have to go now, sweetheart."

"No please, just a little longer please." You begged him.

"We're out of time, Y/N." He told you.

"I can't do this without you." You sobbed. Your entire body was shaking as you became overcome with grief.

"Yes, you can," Steve said, sadly. "And we'll be with you in spirit. This is goodbye Y/N. We love you." He added. Without waiting for you to repeat the sentiment, he ended the call.

You sat there on the kitchen floor for several more minutes. You heard the microwave beeping and you could hear F.R.I.D.A.Y. but those noises were muffled compared to the ringing in your ears.

And suddenly you were screaming. Your hand placed firmly on your barely there bump. The last remainder of your partners. The last remainder of Natasha, Steve and Bucky.

You had to go on for her. Even if you were alone. You had to go on for her.

Soulmates. The words that sent both fear and excitement up the spines of any who heard it. The dying words of your soulmate, or in your case soulmates, were burned onto a persons skin. Some thought it a blessing, never truly knowing who your soulmate was until you heard those dying words.

Others thought it a curse, to be stuck with their final words branded on your body. To have to go the rest of your life with their final sentiment on your form, you could see where they were coming from.

You weren’t sure which side you fell on. Whether this was a curse or a blessing. The only thing you truly knew was that you a daughter on the way and all three of your soulmates had died without ever meeting her.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

246 notes · View notes

teaveetamer · 3 years

Note

Hey, after this banner seeing Dimitri being associated with ‘evil’ characters didn’t feel really good. I am neurodivergent and when I voiced my complains about this I got completely silenced and suddenly fallen alts don’t represent any kind of “evilness”.

I don’t like to say this is ableist but it really feels like it. I wouldn’t have minded this alt if it was ina. new heroes banner for post ts units but the way it was featured, is just not it. It also feels like this alt completely destroys Dimitri’s arc.

I’m very... hmmm. It’s complicated. The more I think about his inclusion on this banner the less I like it.

I think, had Dimitri existed at the game’s inception or been on the first fallen banner ever, or even if we’d had more heroes like Dimitri on this banner or in between it wouldn’t bug me so much, but we have three years of precedent where the fallen units are possessed by evil forces or lose their minds in supernatural ways and to suddenly put Dimitri, a character that by all accounts in canon is simply mentally ill, on the banner... It hits wrong.

And I know. I know. I know it’s just a cash grab. I know they just put him here because he does technically fit the definition and they know he’ll sell. I know it probably wasn’t that deep, no one really thought about it that hard. And I know Japan has a very, very different culture surrounding mental illness than we do and part of this is just my western lens. And I’m hoping, genuinely hoping, that his Forging Bonds and dialogue will focus on his actions during the time skip, because that is what could make him a “fallen hero”, rather than his mental illness.

But like? No, it actually has some really ugly, unsettling implications, especially right now when we don’t have much to go on. I can’t point to a single, concrete action that would make me say “yes this is it, this is exactly why he belongs on this banner” because Three Houses is extremely scant on the details of what Dimitri was getting up to exactly during the time skip.

Even the game itself flip flops on this! I mean we have Dimitri saying he did terrible, horrible, monstrous things but he canonically is extremely into self-flagellation. Then we have Yuri saying he was literally viewed as some kind of folk hero among the Faerghus populace, so his actions can be either really bad or seem really justified depending on who you believe, so all we know for certain is that he was very, very unwell during that time. Adding in a bunch of supernatural purple aura crap just makes it worse because? What? Is that? Supposed to represent? His hallucinations? His demons? Actual possession? His mental illness? How fucked up I find this varies greatly depending on the answer (If it’s his ghosts – cool! But given every fallen has generic purple floaties I doubt it. If it’s his mental illness – yikes.) And those unsettling implications still exist whether they were intentional or not and it’s completely valid for people to be upset about it.

I won’t say it destroys Dimitri’s arc in Three Houses, because we’ll always have canon and it was done so much better there, and I’ll reserve my final judgement until I see his Forging Bonds conversations

Also I’d be a LOT more forgiving if this alt had any unique gameplay merit or was at least creative in how it handled the theme, but it’s literally slightly different L!Dimitri kit-wise with the same weapon and move type and the same exact design as L!Dimitri but with purple shit (and better art, at least the art is good). It’s so goddamn lazy which just makes everything else about it feel so much worse. I mentioned last night at least ten different ways they could have depicted a Fallen!Dimitri beyond black armor and purple smoke.

Suffice to say, he makes a very poor first impression all around and I am not happy with IS at the moment.

#Anonymous

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danurso · 4 years

Text

Salem's favorite butler - Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

(Took some time, but the ending is here)

Jaune: *walking with the group through the corridors*

Yang: so, what's the plan?

Ruby: i don't know yet.

Nora: why don't you blast salem with your laser eyes or something like that?

Ozcar: it would be useless, she would just come back to life like she did countless times before.

Weiss: then what are we going to do?

Jeanne: i don't know, all i know is that we need to find a way to destroy salem.

Weiss: easier said than done, we have no idea how to defeat her remember?

Jeanne: i know but we have to find a way to destroy her, she's been acting odd for a long time now, and we have no idea what her real plans are.

Jaune: *chuckles*

Yang: something funny?

Jaune: yes, you whispering plans to destroy my queen is quite amusing, specially since you have no idea on what to do or is going on.

Jeanne: then tell us what is going on? I think is pretty obvious that Salem is evil and is trying to wipe mankind away from earth.

Jaune: you don't need worry about that, mankind will still live to see another day.

Ruby: what do you mean?

Jaune: my queen has more important things to deal with right now than our pitiful race. *stops in front of a large door*

Ozcar: and what would be more important to salem than destroying mankind?

Jaune: you'll see. *opening the door*

Salem: *on the bed with her hair down* jaune?

Jaune: *walking in and bowing* yes my queen, i brought your guests as you requested.

Salem: *sighs* how many times do i have to repeat myself. . .

RWBY/JN_R/Ozcar/Qrow: *walks in the room before freezing and gasping, some of them even letting their jaws fall to the ground*

Salem: *holding a blonde baby in her arms while having a small white haired girl clinging and sleeping on her arm* . . .you're my husband, you don't need to act as my butler anymore.

Jaune: *chuckles* i may be your husband, but that doesn't take away my responsibilities as your butler.

Salem: i should punish you for ignoring what i say.

Jaune: and as your loyal butler, i'll gladly accept the punishment my queen.

Salem: . . . *sigh* i'm too tired to punish you, it took some time for saphir to fall asleep, blanc at least fell asleep as soon as she hugged me.

Jaune: *smiles* of course she did, you have a soothing motherly aura afterall.

Salem: giving me these sweet words and this idiotic smile won't spare you from your punishment, are you aware of that?

Jaune: *still smiling* of course i am my queen.

Salem: now, *looks at the still extremely shocked group* it took you all long enough to reach this place.

RWBY/JN_R/Ozcar/Qrow: . . .

Salem: Jaune? what is wrong with them? Do they not talk?

Jaune: i don't know my queen, they were quite talkative a few moments ago.

Jeanne: j-jaune. . .

Jaune: yes?

Jeanne: a-are these. . .your. . .y-your k-k-ki-

Jaune: my children? Yes they are.

Jeanne: *gets struck by a imaginary lightning*

Jaune: *smile widens* the girl clinging on my queen is blanc while the boy sleeping on her arms is saphir.

Jeanne: i-i. . .why. . .when. . .how!?

Jaune: *raises eyebrow* our parents never told you about that? Well, it's fairly simple, when a man and a woman really love each other they-

Jeanne: *blushes* i-i know how that works you idiot!

Jaune: really? Then i don't get your question.

Jeanne: you don't get it!? I'M ASKING WHY DID YOU AND THIS MONSTER-

Jaune: *flames on his eyes flare, giving her a cold look*

Jeanne: *shivers*

Jaune: *flames fade, and still smiling politely* i will have to ask you for silence once more my dear sister. As my queen just said, it took a lot of time for our children to fall asleep, and so i would rather avoid loud noises to not wake them up. Also. . . *vanishes*

Jeanne: wha-

Jaune: *re-appears right in front of her, giving her a freezing glare and dropping for the first time his polite smile, replacing it with a way more somber expression* don't think for a second that i will spare you just because you are my sister, my queen is everything to me, so if you lack respect with her once more, i will end you.

Jeanne: *shaking terrified*

Jaune: *turns around and walks back to salem's bed, turning back to them with his polite persona back in place*

Salem: you know, sometimes you're scarier than me.

Jaune: i'm sorry if i scared you my queen, but you know i tend to lose my temper whenever anyone insults you.

Salem: you are forgiven, but for now try to hold your temper, these people are bound to hate and despise me, so much that i don't even know if they'll accept my proposal.

Ozcar: proposal? What kind of proposal?

Salem: a truce, at least for the time being.

RWBY/JN_R: a WHAT!?

Jaune: *eyes flare* mind your volume, please.

RWBY/JN_R/Ozcar/Qrow: *shivers*

Salem: i said i wanted to propose a truce, it's the reason i didn't let anything hurt you on your way here and why i suspended my operations awhile ago.

Ruby: are you. . .are you really proposing that?

Salem: yes. . .being a mother again made me reconsider a lot of things, as did my marriage with jaune. I still see mankind as a worthless race who deserves to be wiped away from remnant, but at least some of them have their own worth, and both me and jaune wanted to raise our children teaching them about this worth.

RWBY/JN_R/Ozcar/Qrow: *speechless*

Salem: so i will make this proposal, all of my agents will go out of the field and my grimm will stop pushing against the walls of your kingdoms. Of course the grimm won't stop, they are a natural force of destruction after all, but without me controlling them they will get less aggressive and coordinated.

Ozcar: and what do you want in exchange?

Salem: Peace. For me, my husband and my family. I'm honestly tired of this war, and what i have with Jaune is way more important to me than our pointless fight, so now all i want is to live in peace with my husband and my children.

Yang: oh really? And how do we know you're not going to go berserk when your kids and jaune grow old and die? It already happened twice with you, how do we know it won't happen a third time?

Salem: you can't, it's as simple as that.

Ruby: then-

Salem: but i doubt that will happen, since by the time they perish i will most likely have perished as well.

Jeanne: cut it out, we know you're immortal.

Salem: i was immortal.

Ozcar: what do you mean with that?

Salem: the god of light cursed me with immortality a long time ago, saying it was a punishment that would only go away when i learned the value of life. . .a lot of things changed when i got pregnant with blanc and had to confront a lot of feelings i kept buried for more than a millenia, i'm aware of how ridiculous and impossible it might sound to you ozma but i changed, for once i decided to focus on the life inside my belly instead of the death of the race i hate so much, i forgot about my revenge, and one day i realized that something was different.

Ozcar: what exactly?

Salem: well, i thinks better to show instead of telling. *raises her hands, one of her nails getting sharper and sharper before she uses it to cut the palm of her hand* see?

Jeanne: and what exactly does this-

Ozcar: wait a second mrs.arc.

Jeanne: what?

Ozcar: . . .

Salem: *with blood coming out of her hand*

Ozcar: *with wide eyes* it's not closing. . .

Jeanne: what?

Ozcar: the wound on her hand. . .it's not closing.

Weiss: wait, does that means she-

Salem: yes, to answer your questions, i am mortal. The curse was lifted some time ago, though i can't say for sure when it happened exactly.

Jaune: *coming in with a first-aid kit and patching up her hand* and while i know you're happy about it my queen, you shouldn't hurt yourself like that every time you want to check your mortality.

Salem: you worry too much about me.

Jaune: *smiles* because i love you my queen.

Salem: *smiles* i'm aware.

Jeanne: what do we do now professor? Now that she's not immortal anymore we have a chance.

Ozcar: . . . . .salem.

Salem: yes?

Ozcar: *looking directly into her eyes* . . .

Salem: . . .

Ozcar: . . .farewell, we accept your proposal.

RWBY/JN_R: w-what!?

Blake: are you serious!?

Weiss: after everything she did, we're just going to let her go like that!?

Ozcar: there's no point in fighting anymore, salem's curse was lifted but we don't know if it can come back, so just leaving her alone now is our best option.

Jeanne: our best option? *clenches jaw* pyrrha is dead because of her!

Ozcar: and a lot more people will end up dying if we keep going, we have an opportunity to get peace, we shouldn't throw that chance out of the window because we want revenge.

Yang: we're not throwing that chance out of the window. *deploys ember celica and eyes shift to red* if we kill her right now we'll still get peace and also avenge our friends.

Ozcar: miss xiao long, we-

Ruby: she's right professor, we have a chance to end everything right now and also avenge our friends *unfolds her scythe* we should take it.

Yang: it's because of her that our world is such a mess! and i'm not letting her off the hook because she's saying that she changed! *an aura of flames starts covering her*

Jaune: *eyes flare with magic*

Saphir: hmnn. . .wah. . .wha!. . .WHA!

Salem: oh heavens. *starts rocking the baby* calm down darling, everything is gonna be okay.

Jaune: *standing between the group and salem*

Salem: calm down jaune.

Jaune: i am calm my queen, and i will remain like this as long as they remain the same.

Yang: shut up! I'm gonna kick your ass and your queen is going next!

Qrow: *stands in front of ruby and yang*

Ruby: uncle qrow? What are you doing?

Yang: don't tell me you're siding with that psycho!?

Qrow: no, you're my nieces, i'll always be on your side.

Yang: then get out of the way!

Qrow: look girls, i know you're angry and want to avenge your friend-

Ruby: if you know that then get out of the way!

Qrow: i will, but let me ask you something first. Even if you manage to kill salem, will you be able to live with that weight on your consciousness? Knowing what you did?

Yang: knowing that i killed a monster? I think i can live with that.

Qrow: knowing that you killed a mother.

Yang/Ruby: *flinches*

Qrow: can you do it? Kill her knowing that these children will have to grow up missing their mother? *looks at yang* while one of them doesn't even know her yet?

Yang/Ruby: *eyes wide, looking down and clenching jaws in frustration*

Qrow: *looks to the rest of the group* the same goes to all of you, can any of you live a normal life knowing you ruined the lives of two innocent children?

_WB_/JN_R: . . . .

Qrow: *draws scythe* if you don't mind that then i don't mind either, i've done enough bad things in the past so one extra sin weighting on my mind wouldn't be a bother.

RWBY/JN_R: . . . . *stores weapons*

Qrow: *sighs* that's what i thought. So? What now ozpin?

Ozcar: . . .

Jaune: *goes back to salem* let me deal with him. *picks saphir up and starts rocking him*

Saphir: *calming down*

Salem: *giving him a small smile* only you to calm him down so easily.

Jaune: *smiling back at her* i could say the same thing about you with blanc.

Salem: *stroking her hair* heh, i guess you're right.

Ozcar: *sighs, staring at the couple* now we leave qrow, there's nothing else to do here. *leaves*

Qrow: okay. *follows*

_WBY/_N_R: *leaves as well*

Jeanne: . . .

Ruby: jeanne?

Jeanne: *staring at jaune*

Jaune: *looks back at her, getting up and walking to her* i remember this face, it was the same face you made when mom and dad decided to take me to their travel instead of you.

Jeanne: it's just. . .i can't believe you're alive, not only that but you're a father now, married to the queen of the grimm, it's just too much for my brain to process in such a short amount of time. . .i don't know how i should feel about it, still, i didn't wanted this to be the last time i see you.

Jaune: it won't be. Me and my queen don't want our children to grow up trapped in the grimmlands for their whole lives, we want them to see the world in its entirety, and maybe even see the rest of their family.

Jeanne: i can't say much for our parents, but i'll try to keep an open door for you, well, for you and them. *boops saphir's nose*

Saphir: *giggles*

Jaune: i'll keep that in mind.

Ruby: jeanne, we need to go.

Jeanne: *smiles* okay. . .goodbye jaune.

Jaune: goodbye sister.

Ruby/Jeanne: *walk away*

*meanwhile*

Qrow: are you sure about this ozpin?

Ozcar: yes, i'm sure.

Qrow: alright, if you're sure then i won't question. But can i ask you something?

Ozcar: i can't promise i'll answer, but you can still try.

Qrow: what made you change your mind?

Ozcar: what are you talking about?

Qrow: don't play dumb, you know it doesn't work with me. When you decided to come here you were decided to put an end in this war, and i'm pretty sure the end wasn't going to be a peaceful one, what made you change your mind?

Ozcar: . . . . . *sighs* she was miserable. . .

Qrow: ?

Ozcar: a long time ago, when she was still trapped in the tower, salem had a miserable life filled with sadness and sorrow, she was a prisoner in the hands of her own father and had to deal with suffering every single day since she was born. . .but when i saved her, she gave me a look filled with so much life and happiness, she looked at me like i was some sort of messiah, someone invincible who could conquer the world when all i really did was free her from a bad person. . .

Qrow: and what does that hast to do with what happened today?

Ozcar: . . .she was giving ms.arc's brother that same look. . .the same look she used to give me after i saved her. . . *hands start shaking* he is her world now, and while he's on her side everything will be fine to everyone.

Qrow: ozpin?

Ozcar: . . .can i ask you something old friend?

Qrow: uhm. . .sure.

Ozcar: *looks back to him with tears running down his cheeks* do you think i made the right choice? On the day i abandoned her, do you think that was the right thing to do? Or maybe i should have stayed with her and tried to change her for better like jaune arc did?

Qrow: . . . *sigh* honestly? I have no idea. Usually you're the one giving me advices, so i don't really know what to say to help you.

Ozcar: . . . *looks back ahead* i see.

Qrow: *places a hand on his shoulder* but. . .

Ozcar: *looks back to him*

Qrow: one thing you always told me was that there's no point in thinking so much about a past you can't change when you have a future that you can still shape ahead of you.

Ozcar: . . . *takes in a deep breath before letting it out* you're right, there's no point in thinking so much about it, especially now that our future looks so bright. *wipes his tears* Thank you old friend.

Qrow: anytime oz.

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #ruby rose #salem #weiss schnee #blake belladona #nora valkyrie #lie ren #jeanne arc #ozpin #ozma #ozcar #qrow branwen #jaune x salem #grimm knight #salem's favorite buttler

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laurasfox-originals · 3 years

Text

Taming A Jerk - Ch. 1 excerpt (Box Shaped Heart Side Story, Patreon Exclusive)

Author's note: This is the story of Alex's second chance at love and being a decent person :)

Ch. 1 - excerpt

Chapter One - The In-Between

Were dreams supposed to be this vivid? Alex struggled against his heavy eyelids. And why on earth was he dreaming about his mother above all else he could dream of? It wasn’t particularly entertaining. Oh, he was in it, as well. And he had to be around five years old, or six.

“Mom,” dream Alex moaned while dragging his blankie after him.

It was a bad dream if he had to remember such an ugly blanket. The pattern was horrendous. What could have his mother been thinking at that time? Otherwise, the woman had always had perfect taste in everything, down to napkins and toothpicks. Oh, his mother hadn’t picked that. It had been his nana, a woman of uncertain age, called Rose.

“Mo-ther. How many times do I have to tell you, Alex? Address me correctly. We are not some poor people living on welfare. So, repeat after me. Mo-ther,” the woman insisted while making the last retouches to her flawless makeup.

Five or six-year-old Alex could not appreciate his mother’s choice of war paint at the time, but he knew instinctively his mom, no, mo-ther, was displeased with him. So he stopped in the door, unsure if it was safe to take another step into his parents’ bedroom.

“Where is dad?” he asked.

His mother finally stopped from fixing her face to look at him.

“Come to me, Alex,” she opened her arms, making the nightgown she was wearing float like colorful wings around her.

His mother was beautiful. Like an actress. But she wasn’t one. She was a housewife. That was what Rose was saying. A desperate housewife. Why desperate? Alex hadn’t gotten the allusion at the time.

“Your father has decided to go live someplace else, with another family, Alex,” his mother explained. “So it will be just the two of us from now on. Won’t it be fun?”

She distracted him by starting to show him her makeup kit. There were so many colors there, and his mother knew everything about colors, matching them, and using them to make herself even more beautiful than she was.

It hadn’t been just the two of them after that. His mother had remarried twice and had had plenty of affairs. And, in the meantime, they had never been just the two of them.

“Alex? Alex Miller?” someone called for him.

All right. Time to dream was over. His eyes snapped open. A woman between ages, who definitely looked like a dead ringer for Yolanda, his boss at Beauty Ex, was touching his shoulder.

“Alex Ruskin, actually,” he replied while straightening himself up.

“People go by their real names in here, dear,” the woman corrected him, using a maternal, sugary voice.

Alex looked around. It looked like he was in a waiting lobby of sorts. The furniture was minimal, and everything was white. It was a tad too simplistic for his taste. Maybe they hadn’t had the money for a real interior decorator.

The lack of artistic vision in the room layout was not answering his question, nonetheless.

“Could you please tell me where am I?” he asked, looking back at the woman. “Ah, and my real name is Alex Ruskin. I am married,” he added.

He could overlook the mishap, but now he was wondering who had made the appointment in his name. If it was his assistant who had done it, the man was going to find a new place to work soon. Ah, wait, he had just fired the guy.

“That you may think you are, dear,” the woman stopped his train of thought. “But you know you don’t exactly feel married,” she said while shaking her head and pursing her lips in disapproval.

What was that supposed to mean? Setting his chin high, and making sure his voice was as icy as it could possibly be, he hurried to contradict her.

“I am definitely married. See?” he put up his left hand.

And stared in disbelief at his naked ring finger.

“What is this place?” he put his hand down, and this time, he didn’t hide his displeasure when looking at his presumptive host. “My wedding ring has obviously been stolen!”

“Now-now dear,” the woman took him by one arm, bent on making him follow her. “Nothing’s been stolen. Actually, we are surprised to find you here. But, thinking about the circumstances ...” the woman shook her head, and her voice dropped low as if she was talking to herself, “it all makes sense in a way.”

Alex could feel a cold chill down his back.

“Am I in a mental institution?”

Everything white, people bent on contradicting guests ... That could be.

“No, dear,” the woman shook her head and gestured for him to enter an office that seemed just as white as the waiting lobby. “I will try to explain things to you since your overseer is not available at the moment.”

“Overseer?” Alex mumbled. “Is this some prank? Who uses such a word? Is this some reality show? I don’t remember giving my consent. I strongly advise that you don’t keep me here against my will, or I will sue,” he said in a heartbeat.

He seriously didn’t have time for this. There was at least one photo shoot to attend today, and later he had plans with Simon.

“See? How can you say you’re married while thinking of another man?” the woman scolded him.

Alex could feel his jaw dropping. Also, the chill on his back was getting worse.

“What kind of a TV show is this? How ... Can you read minds?!” he almost yelled.

His voice, when high-pitched, was getting weird. He was usually avoiding doing that. Yet, right now, he couldn’t stop.

“Please, have a seat, Alex,” his host gestured for a white leather chair.

He sat, feeling his blood draining from his upper body.

“Have I ...” he licked his lips, now dry like paper. “Have I lost my mind?”

“Dear, this is not a mental institution. We call it, for the sake of our guests,” the woman said while linking her hands and placing them under her chin, “the In-Between.”

“Interesting name,” Alex frowned. “But,” he raised one finger, “I am signed with Beauty Ex for at least two more years. And I have no intentions to change that. Well, except for the right incentive, of course.”

“Not even for a household name?” the woman smiled at him, and that made his frown grow deeper.

“I feel like I am at the receiving end of some bad joke,” he said sternly.

The woman sighed now.

“We wish it was a joke. The truth is, Alex, you shouldn’t be here. You should be already on the other side of the river.”

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he wasn’t the one insane. But the woman in front of him was speaking gibberish.

“I believe I took enough of your time,” he stood up. “Don’t worry; I will see myself out.”

There was no point in making a scene. The woman seemed harmless, and the fact that she looked like Yolanda made Alex feel a bit strange to start yelling at her. So he could be civil and walk out.

The waiting lobby seemed to have one door, and he went for it.

“What on earth?” he murmured.

It was locked.

All right, he was getting upset enough to start yelling at his un-obliging host. The theory of a reality show sounded more accurate than ever. So, they wanted to see him lose his cool. Taking off his wedding ring, having him stuck in a white office with some lunatic who somehow knew about Simon.

Wait. Simon. No. No, the guy could not have sold him out like this. Simon was as gullible as a three-year-old. He had not one ounce of evil in his slim body. And what a body he had, Alex mused. Had he not been so keen on never encouraging competition, he would have told the guy to apply for a modeling position. Maybe they could have even shot some ads together.

But no. Simon was way too good-looking, and Alex knew he wasn’t going to be an attractive twink forever. Simon was younger. Well off, so he didn’t need the money. Not the way Alex needed money. Also, if Simon was starting to model, he was bound to steal the show. And that, for no reason at all. It would have just pissed him off.

“Sorry, Simon, only enough room for one name up in lights,” he spoke out loud.

Hmm, he didn’t mean to say that. He pushed away the thought as he noticed a key in a beautiful bowl placed on a small coffee table. Oh, so it was like an escape room sort of situation? They really wanted to see him losing his cool.

Well, he had no intention to give them the satisfaction. Calmly, he picked up the key, held it with two fingers, and looked around. Where could they have hidden the cameras? Maybe they had used some paint to conceal them? It wasn’t impossible.

With a shrug, he decided to try the door with the key he had just found. Straightening up some invisible wrinkles on his t-shirt, he walked toward the door.

Where was the door? He frowned and shook his head. He was pretty confident it was on that wall. Whatever technologies they were using for this prank had to cost a fortune. All for the better. That meant they had enough money to stop him from suing them.

He looked down. A small door was there, but it was apparently impossible for a human being to go through it. Not even a little person could. Nonetheless, he had a key, and he had to try it. Maybe it was going to reveal a piece of the puzzle.

He knelt and began fiddling with the lock. It worked. Great. They were going to say about him that he was not only good looking but smart, too. He could picture the titles.

“We tried to prank Alex Ruskin, but he out-pranked us! Who would have thought the guy has the brains, not just the looks?” he mumbled to himself.

He pushed open the little door.

What ...?! The door was even smaller?! How could that be? And how were they doing it before his very eyes?

Now he was going to have to lie flat on his stomach if he hoped to see something through that door and get the next piece of the puzzle.

Just as he was trying to figure out a way to do that without showing some lousy angle for the cameras that he still didn’t know where they were, the door seemed to shrink a few more inches.

“No, no, no,” he said through his teeth as he almost threw himself to the floor.

The door disappeared, engulfed by the wall, before his eyes. Ah, damn it! He almost wanted to manifest his frustration by punching the floor or a wall. But no, he was who he was because he knew exactly when to smile.

And this was the sort of situation to show the idiots who were trying to prank him that he never ever lost his cool.

What was supposed to be the next step? It looked like he needed to go back to the office, and talk again to the lady host.

He knocked shortly and stepped inside. The desk behind which the woman sat was now covered with files, and the lady was busy searching for something in a drawer.

“Ahem,” he coughed discreetly, to draw her attention.

“Where could that be?” the woman was talking to herself.

“Could you please show me the way out?” Alex spoke out loud.

The woman stopped and looked at him.

“Alex, please, sit down. I should have the protocol for such situations somewhere, but I don’t seem to find it. This place, I swear, is always a mess.”

“What protocol?” Alex could feel getting irritated by the second. “I don’t like throwing empty threats, but I feel like I have to say it. Let me out, or there will be consequences. I have a photo shoot coming up. I am certain my boss is pulling out her hair right now, wondering where I am and ...”

“Yes?” the woman stopped her frantic search to look at him. “What else, Alex? What are you forgetting?”

It was there, on the tip of his tongue. Of course, there was his plan of meeting Simon later, but that was not it.

“Aron asked you to think about going to see his parents this weekend,” the woman said and kept her round, witty eyes trained on him. “But you don’t intend to go,” she continued. “You haven’t seen your in-laws in almost half a year, and, if you were never to visit, that wouldn’t be an issue with you.”

Alex sat on the chair, without protesting anymore.

“How do you know all this?” he murmured, the fear of cameras catching him unawares gone from his mind.

“It is our job,” the woman said. “Now, if only I could find the protocol ... All right, we will have to do without it. Shall we begin?”

“By all means,” Alex sat back in his chair.

The woman sat her hands primly on the desk, took one look down, as if to prepare herself, and then looked Alex straight in the eye.

“You should be dead.”

A cold chill ran down his spine in an instant.

“All right,” he murmured, trying to get a hold of himself. “This is no longer a joke. Please let me out of here. I won’t sue. Just … let me out.”

~ end of excerpt

Author's note: You can read the entire thing - 7-chapters long - on my Patreon.

#box shaped heart #my original fiction #laurasfox #taming a jerk

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akaashishotthighs · 4 years

Text

19k One-Shot: Kit, Tessa & Jem

April 20 2013

The sun outside was setting. It cast a warm and soft orange glow through the kitchen’s ample window, onto the large, circle-shaped, wooden table. Kit squinted at the ray of light that hit his blue eyes. He raised his gaze to Tessa, who sat on the other end of the table. He softly shook his head. “Please don’t do this.”

“I have to, Kit.” Her face was impartial of feeling, and her voice had no actual tone behind it. “I have to.”

Kit leaned his forearms on the table. “No, you don’t. Please, Tessa, I am begging you. It doesn’t have to end this way. Don’t let it end this way.”

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, and let the card fall on the table, face up. There it stood, in all its glory, the ultimate end. The black and white card flashed in mockery, the +4 sign laughing at Kit’s misery. He looked up at Tessa. Her head was leaning to the side, and she was softly shaking it, a small smile playing in her lips. “Uno.” She said.

Kit threw his cards on the table and dropped his forehead on it with a small thud. He groaned loudly. After a couple seconds, he lifted his head again and pointed his finger at Tessa. “You’re evil.” At that point, Tessa’s smile had widened into a pearly white one.

“What just happened?” Jem sat on one of the sides of the table, placed between Kit and Tessa. He was staring at the +4 card still glinting in the sunset’s glow. “That was the most intense and most dramatic game of cards I have ever seen.”

Tessa laughed while cleaning up the cards. “You think that was intense and dramatic? You should’ve seen Will and Matthew play Go Fish. The literal meaning of intense drama.”

“How bad could it be?” Kit asked.

Tessa pulled up the sleeve of her t-shirt. “See this scar?” There was a small white uneven scar along the inside of her arm. “Family game night.”

“Will and the kids were that competitive?” Kit leaned back in his seat.

Jem snorted. “Yeah, they’re the competitive ones.” He muttered.

“Pardon?” Tessa pursed her lips.

Jem shook his head. “Nothing, dear.”

“Uh-oh. Jem’s pulling the ‘dear’ card. You must have screwed up real bad.” Kit crossed his arms. Jem threw him a grin.

“I’m not competitive.” Tessa’s eyes had widened slightly, and her eyebrows were raised. Her tone was sure but daring.

Jem took a card from the table and inspected it. “Of course not.”

“Say it.” Jem bit down on his lip to keep from smiling. “Say I’m not competitive.”

“You’re not competitive.”

Tessa was staring at him with humour in her eyes, and yet this was still one of the worst fights Kit had seen them have. “Look me in the eyes, and tell me I’m not competitive.”

Jem looked up at her. “I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be lying, and I could never lie to you.”

“Aw that’s sweet.” Kit interjected. Tessa threw him a glare. “…tly horrible.” Jem looked at him, barely able to contain his smile. “I’m definitely on Tessa’s side. How could you ever think that she’s competitive.” Sarcasm dripped on every word he said, perking up one of the sides of Jem’s lips.

“That’s right, I’m not competitive.” Tessa was either too worked up to notice the sarcasm or had chosen to ignore it.

“Kit, let me tell you a story.” Jem leaned forward in his seat. Kit rested his elbows on the table and held his head upon his palms. “Once upon a time, many many years ago, on a regular uneventful night, I was called to the London Institute on a medical emergency. When I arrived at the Institute, I found our friends sitting around playing a card game. On the corner of the room, was Gabriel Lightwood, a large gash on the side of his head, and bleeding profusely. Apparently, someone had hit him on the head with a massive book. I had to give him stitches. Guess the someone.”

Kit fake scratched his chin, as if deep in thought. “Could it have been someone that goes by the name of Tessa Gray?” He turned his gaze to her. She was nibbling on her thumbnail, a faint blush to her cheeks.

“It was an accident.” She said, in a low voice.

Jem smirked at that. “Really? An 800-page book accidentally flew from your hand, and travelled two meters in the diagonal to the other side of the table, hitting Gabriel, who happened to be your partner in the game, completely by accident?”

She shrugged. “We live in a world of wonders.” Jem chuckled and shook his head.

“Wait, but why did you ‘accidentally’ threw the book at him at all?”

“Apparently he caused them to lose the game.” Jem mocked.

“That card was clearly a 3. And the bastard confused it for an 8 the entirety of the game. You would have to be the stupidest person on Earth to not see it was a 3. You would have to be the dumbest, blindest-“Tessa cut herself off when she saw the looks the boys were throwing her. “Again, totally an accident.”

Jem and Kit burst out laughing. The sun was barely visible outside, and the kitchen was almost in darkness. Tessa waved her hand, and the lights turned on, flooding the kitchen in a soft white glow. After settling down, Kit gave them a questioning look. “Wait, didn’t you say you just went there to give him stitches?” Jem nodded. Kit’s face scrunched up in even more confusion. “Wouldn’t an iratze fix that? Why would you call for a Silent Brother?”

Jem and Tessa shared a look and giggled. “Will did things a little differently.”

“He used to call me for the minimal sign of hurt.” Jem shook his head with fondness. “Even if it was just a paper cut.” He smiled widely. “The Silent Brothers keep a record of every time they are called in the Silent City. They made a separate room for Will’s records only. It’s like a museum down there.”

Kit snorted. “Seriously?” Jem nodded. “Uh. The Silent Brothers are surprisingly humorous about the situation.”

“It got even worse after the kids got old enough to join in.” Tessa rolled her eyes.

“What did they do to those records?”

“Lumped them in with Will’s.” Jem shrugged. “They could tell.”

“You must have some fun stories about this.” Kit directed this at Tessa.

Her smile turned sad. “I don’t really remember a lot. I didn’t even remember this story until you brought it up.” She turned to Jem, who stretched his hand towards her and took hers, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “My memory of those days is like a light fog around the house. I know what’s supposed to be there, but everything is too blurry to make out.”

“Is it easier for Silent Brothers?”

Jem nodded. “Yes. We have special runes that help us remember everything in great detail. But ever since I left the Brotherhood that my memories have progressively become blurrier.”

Kit bit his lip and looked out the window. “Does it make it easier? Getting married, having kids, falling in love. Does it make eternity easier? Is any of it actually worth it?”

Tessa studied him. She noted the sharp intake of breath as he waited for an answer, noted the way his fingers fidgeted against one another, the way his gaze was focused on everything and nothing all at once. She’d seen that look before, on specific people. She could feel their presence on the pictures that hung behind her on the wall. She blinked away the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. “It’s different for everyone.”

“I’m not asking everyone. I’m asking you.”

The pearl bracelet around her wrist felt heavy and tight. She shook it off. “There is no easier or harder. There’s just time. And time is never enough. Not even eternal time. Married, single. Kids, childless. Having one true love, slutting it up around town. It doesn’t matter. Time is never enough. So why not spend it with the people you love?”

Kit breathed out slowly and worried at his bottom lip. Eventually he spoke up. “What if the people you love, don’t love you back?”

Tessa turned her gaze to the same direction he was set to. “Someone once told me ‘It’s all right to love someone who doesn’t love you back, as long as they’re worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.’” Tessa looked at him again, a small smile on her lips. “Does he? Deserve it?”

She could feel Jem giving her a confused look. Kit looked at her quickly, his eyes widened in shock. Tessa didn’t look away, nor did she change her expression. Kit stared at her for a few seconds, before whispering. “He does.”

“Then you shouldn’t feel bad about loving him. You should never feel bad about loving someone.”

Kit gave her a small nod. He leaned back in his seat, the intensity of the moment worn off and his usual relaxed demeanour returning. “Who told you that? They sound like one of those dope motivational posters that school therapists hang on their walls.”

Tessa snorted. She racked her brain, but everything came back blank. “I can’t remember.”

“Do you remember who they said it about? Maybe it’ll jog your memory?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing.”

“Do you remember who they meant for you?”

She smiled and leaned closer to Jem. “There’s only two options there.”

Jem grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. They heard Kit groan. “Ugh, we get it. You three have an epic love story that makes all of us peasants have impossibly high standards. Blah blah blah. I want a rematch.”

Tessa broke the kiss giggling. “Sure. I would love to watch you lose again.”

Kit raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Totes not competitive.” Tessa threw him a glare while Jem laughed.

They settled back into the fun teasing environment that reigned supreme during their last game, the memories of black haired beauties that were too far to reach lodging in the back of their minds.

#kit herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #will herondale #matthew fairchild #gabriel lightwood #jessa #wessa #heronstairs #herongraystairs #the dark artifices #the infernal devices #the last hours #the shadowhunters chronicles #tda #tid #tlh #tsc

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kelyon · 3 years

Text

Golden Rings 10: A Favor

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Rumple deals with the Savior

Read on AO3

He frowns at the parchment in his hands. The twittering bluebird that delivered the message flaps its wings to get away from the window as quickly as it can. The clever animal must sense that the Dark One is in a mood to throw firebolts.

“How bad is it?” His wife gets up from the dining room table. She stands beside him in a patch of sunlight by the uncurtained window.

He slides his arm around her waist. After a year of marriage the gesture is automatic. Touching her is as natural as breathing.

“It is all of our nightmares come to life!” He says the words lightly, as though that will diminish the truth of them.

Belle takes the letter and reads it for herself. “Princess Ella is having twins?” She reads further. “And she thinks you’ll want to take both babies? But the deal was only for her first-born. She would know that if she had read the contract before she signed it! ”

Softly, Rumpelstiltskin drifts away from her. He walks a slow circle around the dining room. Though he never thought much about the castle, he has lived there for hundreds of years. Soon he will never see this place again. He married Belle here. It is his home. It is their home.

“Do you know what really annoys me?”

Belle looks up from the letter. “What, Rumple?”

“In the message,” he takes the parchment back, “the cinder-girl says that a dwarf heard a second heartbeat in her womb. A dwarf. How would a dwarf know to listen for that kind of thing? Dwarves are hatched, fully-grown, from eggs.” He paces back and forth across the room. “In the entire history of time, fewer than a hundred dwarves have ever come out from their mines to interact with the above-ground. How in any hell would one of them be knowledgeable about the pregnancy of a human woman?” He shakes his head. “It’s sloppy. By acting like I believe such a ruse, I will look an utter fool.”

“Then you shouldn’t go!”

The words come out as a cry, and Belle’s hand covers her mouth. Her eyes are wide. She is shocked that she would allow such a thought to escape her lips. He knows that she would take it back if she could.

But the words have already been spoken. They hang in the air between husband and wife like a barrier.

He goes to her, without hesitation. He breaks the barrier of her words. He takes her hand away from her mouth, kisses her fingers, then her lips. There is nothing she can do or say to him that she will ever need to take back. He loves her, and her love for him is his only certainty.

When they pull apart, Belle’s cheeks are wet with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She shakes her head and lowers her eyes. Rumpelstiltskin holds her in his arms and lets her cry.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs. He rocks her gently, swaying from side to side. It’s almost like they’re dancing. The last dance they will ever share in this world.

He cannot fault her for not wanting to be abandoned. When he is gone, she will be vulnerable, even with all their best precautions in place. There is still a risk, and Belle is right to be mindful of her own safety. He needs to be near her in order for her to be protected.

“I thought I could be brave enough,” she murmurs. “But I can’t.” She puts her hands on his chest and takes a deep breath. “I can’t let them do this to you!”

Stunned, Rumpelstiltskin looks at his wife. Gently, he brings his hands up to her face. There is nothing but honesty in her eyes. He sees her so clearly, his Belle, his beloved. This tiny, fragile, mortal woman is more fearful for his comfort than her own survival.

“Me?” he whispers. “Belle, what about you?”

“They’re going to put you in a cage, Rumple! A cage with no magic! You’ll be powerless! Those people could do anything to you! They could hurt you or--”

“You’re the only person who can hurt me, Belle,” he assures her. “You are the mistress of the dagger. Nothing anyone else does to me matters.”

Her breath shakes. “I just wish--”

“Shh.” He pulls her close, holds her tight. “No wishing. Wishing is how little cinder-Ella got into the position she’s in. Wishing is wanting something without putting in the work to get it, and we know better than that. After all, my love, all magic--”

“Comes at a price,” she finishes it with him. “I know.”

Her hands go up to his face. She traces his lines and his scales, rubs her palms against his sharp jaw, his cheekbones. He closes his eyes and rests against her touch. Belle runs a finger up the edge of his nose and over his eyebrows. She cups his cheeks in her soft hands. By the end of it, both of them are breathing more easily.

“When will the Savior be born, Rumple? When will the curse be cast?”

“By tradition, the announcements are made in the royal mother’s sixth month of pregnancy. That was just a few days ago. Snow White is about as far along as the ash-girl.”

“So three months,” she says. “For three months, you’ll be in prison and I’ll be pretending.”

“It will keep us safe.” He takes her hands, kisses her ring. “You will be safe from Regina and everyone else will be safe from me. Whoever wants to find me will know exactly where I am. They’ll see me beaten, and will have no reason to fear me.”

“But we won’t see each other for three months.”

He embraces her again, kisses her forehead. “Three months, and twenty-eight years.”

Belle shudders. “Tell me you don’t have to leave right now.”

He squeezes her, and shakes his head. “Tomorrow night, the letter said. At the stroke of midnight. I think the princess thought that was clever.”

Belle scoffs.

Rumpelstiltskin tilts her chin up so that she’s looking at him. “I am yours forever, sweetheart. But for this plan to work, I must play my part. I must be all the darkness mothers tell tales of to frighten children. I must steal babes and trick maidens and be vanquished by heroes who are oh-so-very-good and clever. I must be every evil thing they think I am. And then, Belle, in order to win--I must lose.”

****

Rumpelstiltskin came out of the darkness to the sound of a frantic banging and a woman’s voice:

“Oh my God! Are you alright?”

Belle. His eyes stung and his head hurt. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say. Sweetheart, don’t worry about me…

But Belle’s voice kept shouting, almost screaming. It came from some distance away, even more than through the fog of his unconsciousness. It was like she was in another room. Once again, they were separated by a locked door.

He was lying on the ground. The floor, inside somewhere. A wooden floor.

It was dark. When he tried to open his eyes, lights streamed in through the windows. Orange, electric lights. Street lights. Storybrooke.

“The door’s locked, but I’ve got my new key!” Belle’s voice cried. But it wasn’t Belle on the other side of the door to Gold’s shop. “I’m coming in!”

Rumpelstiltskin raised his head for a moment, but then the pain flashed like lightning and he sunk back to the ground.

“Oh, Jesus!” Mrs. Gold opened the door and turned on the lights. He winced at the brightness. Eyes closed, he heard the crunch of broken glass under her gray suede boots. “Oh Jesus Christ, Mr. Gold! What happened? Are you okay?”

She knelt on the floor beside him, touching his face and chest frantically. Like she was trying to assure herself that he was real, that he was breathing. Her touch was warm on his skin. Belle was always so warm...

“Christ, Mr. Gold, you’re bleeding! Can you talk to me? Please talk to me!”

Obedient to his wife, Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth and made a noise. It was mostly a groan, but it was enough to calm her a little.

“Can you open your eyes?”

Her concerned face blocked the light, so it was easier to do what she asked. Slowly, Rumpelstiltskin sat up. He pushed himself backward with his good leg, until he was leaning against one of the glass counters.

“I’m all right,” he whispered.

“Bullshit! You’re bleeding. And you were clearly knocked out! What happened? Who did this to you?”

“I did it to myself,” he breathed. True, his assailant had sprayed his face with some noxious chemical potion. Blinded, he had flailed back into a display. But he hadn’t gotten the cut on his head until he tried to lunge forward and his ankle had given out on him. He had fallen onto the corner of a chess board on the counter.

It could have been worse. The girl could have bashed him in the head with the brick she had used to break the window. His mortal skull could have shattered just like the glass. He could have bled out on the shop floor without ever seeing the curse broken. He could have died without ever seeing Belle again, without ever finding Bae...

“Oh my God.” Tears rolled down Mrs. Gold’s cheeks. Why would she cry for him? Gold had never been anything but awful to her, and Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t been much better.

“Check the safe,” he said, mostly as a way to get her away from him for a moment. He needed to think.

“Jesus, were you robbed?” Mrs. Gold scrambled to her feet and hurried to the back wall of the shop. Framed paintings crowded every inch of wall space. One picture swung open on a hinge. Behind it, a metal safe door was also open. When she spoke again, her tone was less teary.

“You were robbed by an idiot,” she said. “They left the key in the lock. And they locked the side door on the way out!” Rumpelstiltskin heard the rustling of papers. “They left all the cash too. It looks like the only thing missing is--”

“A contract,” he finished. Where was that cane? A moment’s reprieve had given him time to come up with a plan. But he couldn’t enact it on the floor. “Ashley Boyd’s contract.”

Mrs. Gold scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? That stupid bitch!” Slamming the safe closed, Mrs. Gold stormed through the curtain into the back room of the pawn shop.

“What are you doing?” he called weakly.

“Getting the first aid kit!”

Rumpelstiltskin leaned his head back against the display case. Right. Gold kept a good stock of medical supplies in his house, his car, and the shop. Bandages, burn ointments, medical scissors. Considering what Gold liked to do with his wife, it was best to be prepared for injuries.

Mrs. Gold reappeared with a white metal box in her hands. Kneeling beside him, she opened it. She put on a pair of rubber gloves before she began to clean the cut on his forehead.

He let her. It was the first time he had allowed Mrs. Gold to touch him. The first time anyone had touched him, since the last time he had seen Belle.

“I can’t believe that sneaky little skank!” Her touch was gentle, but her words were furious. “You’re saving her by taking that baby off her hands! And this is how she repays you? She thinks she can weasel out of a deal with you? Unbelievable!”

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes again. “The girl said something about changing her life.”

“Ruining her life is more like it!” Mrs. Gold huffed. “Ashley Boyd thinks she can be a mother? She’s too stupid and irresponsible. She’s always wanted some fucking fairy godmother to solve all her problems for her. You just know she got pregnant on purpose.” Mrs. Gold squeezed a paste out of a white tube and spread it over his skin. Careful to brush his hair out of the way first, she adhered a plastic bandage to his scalp. “She wanted Sean to marry her, so she decided to trap him. And when his father found out, he came to you to take care of it. You found some family to adopt the baby and got Ashley to sign the contract. But now she wants out of it? Why? What reason could she possibly have for wanting a fucking baby?”

Snapping the metal lid shut on the box, Mrs. Gold stormed back into the other room to put away the first aid kit.

“Something must have changed,” Rumpelstiltskin said when she returned. Gingerly, he brought his hand up to the bandage. “I suspect Ashley spoke to someone who convinced her that she was stronger than she thought.” Despite the pain, he found himself grinning. “Someone who made her believe in the possibility of a happy ending.”

Mrs. Gold handed him the cane and helped him stand up. “Who would do that?”

“The same person I’m going to talk to in the morning.”

****

Technically, an unauthorized roommate was a violation of the lease on the studio apartment that Mary Margaret Blanchard rented from Gold. But that didn’t matter to Rumpelstiltskin. It was convenient for him that Emma Swan had taken to living with the woman she didn’t know was her mother. It made her easy to find.

When Snow White answered the door, the former princess went even paler than normal. She had never seemed afraid of him before, even when he looked his most inhuman. Of course, to the people of Storybrooke, Gold was more of a monster than the Dark One could ever be.

“Is Emma Swan here?”

Mary Margaret Blanchard looked over to the side of the room before speaking. It looked like she was trying to be discreet about having a guest, while simultaneously advertising the fact for all to see. Well, that was to be expected. Snow White had never been known for her ability to keep a secret.

Emma came to the door.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Even in this world, she was a princess. A true princess, someone who had battled and politicked and worked her way to whatever power she had. Emma Swan had been born in a castle, but she had spent her first eighteen years of life in a dozen different foster homes. Gold knew that Henry Mills’ birth mother had had him in jail. She had given birth while handcuffed to a hospital bed. Since then, the woman had made a career as a bail bondsperson. Her job was to find people who were running from their fates and force them to do the right thing--by hook or by crook, as the shepherds used to say when herding sheep back into the fold.

There was a fire in her green eyes, a vibrant spirit that no one else in this town had. Even if Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know she was the savior, it was obvious there was something special about this woman. From the moment she was born, she’d had to fight.

And there was nothing a fighter needed more than an opponent.

“Hi,” Rumpelstiltskin extended his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Mr. Gold, we met briefly when you first came into town.”

“I remember.”

She wasn’t, exactly, unfriendly. But she spoke with a businesslike brusqueness, a tone that said get to the point more than any actual words. She certainly was her father’s daughter.

“May I speak to you about something? Privately?” He gave a meaningful look to Mary Margaret, who bolted like a rabbit away from her own door.

“Sure,” Emma said begrudgingly.

Without asking, Rumpelstiltskin walked in to the apartment. The central room was as neat as a pin, except for a dozen packing boxes in one corner. All of them were opened, half the contents of each box scattered and piled around that section of the room. A knitted blanket was draped over a chair. It was a small blanket, the kind in which a loving mother would wrap a newborn before sending her on a perilous journey. The name Emma was stitched out in royal purple.

“Moving in?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said, neither denying the obvious nor giving any extra details. “So what can I do for you, Mr. Gold?”

Emma Swan’s natural posture was to keep her back to the wall, her feet apart, and her hands on her hips. Not aggressive, but not one to be pushed over either. She was a rock, as so many heroes were. No force could move her unless she thought it was her idea to move.

“I don’t want to go to the police about this,” he began. “But something has been stolen from me, and I understand you’re good at finding people.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that?”

“There was a write-up about you in the paper,” he answered. “If you were hoping to avoid attention, breaking the ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’ sign on your first night in town wasn’t the best move.”

With a rueful expression, Emma wiped her hands on her trousers. “So what was taken?”

“All due respect, Miss Swan, one of the advantages of you not being the police is a certain level of discretion. Let’s just say it was a precious object and leave it at that. I’m more concerned about who did the taking. Last night, a young girl named Ashley Boyd broke into my shop and opened my safe. She’s also responsible for this.”

Brushing his hair back, Rumpelstiltskin revealed the cut on his forehead. It had scabbed over, but the wound was still a vivid red.

Emma frowned. “So that’s breaking and entering, petty burglary, and assault. You’re sure you don’t want to call the cops?”

He looked at the ground, made a show of playing with his cane. He had to make sure Emma underestimated him. “Ashley’s a nice girl. She’s never been in trouble like this before. She’s young, she’s pregnant. She’s just a confused young woman at a bad place in her life. I’m more than willing to forgive and forget, as long as my property is returned.” Rumpelstiltskin looked up at Emma, and mentioned something that hadn’t been published in the paper. “Can you imagine one bad decision leading to a baby being born in jail?”

It was gone in a flash, that flicker of emotion in Emma’s eyes. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking for it. Emma’s masks were better than Regina’s, but he had been manipulating people for centuries. He knew how to recognize that moment of decision--often long before the other party knew it. That moment when he knew that they were his.

“Yeah, that’d be terrible,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rumpelstiltskin pressed in. The deal would be finalized before she even knew she was seriously considering it.

“So you’ll help me?”

“I will help her,” Emma said. She was stone again. The Savior had wavered for just a moment, but that moment was all he needed.

“Grand.” He gave her a smile. Nothing nicer than making people feel good about doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Before they could say anything more, the apartment door opened.

“Hey, Emma, I think we need to--” Henry Mills stopped talking as soon as he saw that his birth mother wasn’t alone.

“Hey, Henry.” Rumpelstiltskin’s cheer became more genuine. There was something about Henry Mills that he liked. The boy had an insight and a determination that were rare gifts in a cursed town. Something about him reminded Rumpelstiltskin of Baelfire when he was that age. “How are you?”

“O...kay.” The boy took a step back. His excited features slowly schooled themselves into a cautious non-expression.

To Rumpelstiltskin’s sorrow, the sudden transformation from excitement to sobriety was also something he had seen in Baelfire. Shrewd children could always identify monsters, no matter how friendly they tried to act.

“Well then.” He made his way to the door, passing by Henry in the process. The boy swiveled so he never had his back turned to the fearsome Mr. Gold. “Give my regards to your mother. And Miss Swan?” He nodded to the Savior before he let her go fulfill her destiny. “Good luck.”

****

When he got back to the shop, Mrs. Gold was behind the counter, ringing out a customer.

“Your sister is going to love this! A cute little pin is a great fashion statement. And where else could you find jewelry that looks like a brick wall? It’s so different!”

She handed a gift bag to the middle-aged woman, who took it with a dubious expression.

When Mrs. Gold saw that he had walked in the side door, she quickly added. “Of course, it all depends on how you like getting pinned!”

The other woman went pink and barreled out of the shop, her stick-brown hair streaming behind her.

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t talk to Mrs. Gold about how she intimidated people with her innuendo. What else could he expect from her? She did and said what she thought her husband wanted.

“Was everything alright while I was out?”

Mrs. Gold nodded. “No break-ins today, though I did keep a weapon handy.” From the far side of the cash register, she pulled out a flat, heavy wooden paddle. Gold identified it as a cricket bat. Mrs. Gold twirled the handle with practiced deftness. “But now that you’re here, maybe we can put this to better use?”

He didn’t give her an answer. He didn’t need to. After just a moment of glittering hope, Mrs. Gold lowered her gaze and set the cricket bat aside.

“Sorry for asking, Mr. Gold. I know that’s not my place.” Still looking down, she knocked her knuckles against the countertop. “I, uh, I just wanted to show you that I’m willing, always. For anything.”

Rumpelstiltskin licked his lips and resisted the urge to reach out to her. He didn’t desire Mrs. Gold, and he wasn’t going to treat her the way she wanted him to. But she looked so helpless now--so small and confused, seeking affection from the only person she had, in the only way she could think of. He wanted to help her, he wanted to comfort her.

He wanted to hold his wife in his arms and let them comfort each other.

But he didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he took the cricket bat from the counter and put it back in its proper place among the store’s merchandise. Out the front windows, he saw a bright red vintage sports car make its way up Main Street.

“That’s Ruby Lucas’ car,” he said mildly. “But that isn’t Ruby driving.”

Mrs. Gold rushed to the window. “Who is it?” She craned her neck to see, then grinned as she recognized the driver. “A dumb blonde in a ratty sweater, that’s Ashley Boyd alright.” She looked to her husband. “Now that we know where she is, are you going to call Sheriff Graham?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “I have every confidence Miss Swan will work things out.”

“She’d better work fast.” Mrs. Gold squinted out the window. “It looks like Miss Too-Good-For-Birth-Control is trying to get out of town.”

“You sound pleased to know that.”

“Idiot’s taking the Widowmaker Highway.” There was a grimness seeping through Mrs. Gold’s vindictive pleasure. “Even in broad daylight, that road is a death trap.” She shook her head, moved away from the window. “If Ashley doesn’t know enough to stay in Storybrooke, she deserves whatever happens to her.”

Despite his better instincts, Rumpelstiltskin decided to keep talking to Mrs. Gold. “Why do you hate her?”

“Huh?” She blinked.

“Ashley,” he said. “You seem… uniquely unsympathetic to her plight.”

Mrs. Gold pursed her lips in thought. “I mean, she broke in here and knocked you out. I’m not nuts for taking that personally, am I?”

“I suppose not,” he assured her. “But your enmity clearly runs deeper than that.”

Shrugging, she began to wander back to the cash register. “She’s stupid, that’s the main thing. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, so she’s bad at it. That offends me on a professional level.”

Rumpelstiltskin raised his eyebrows. He stayed where he was near the door. “Professional?”

“Well, yeah, it’s…” Mrs. Gold began to search around the counter, less like she had something to do and more like she was finding an excuse to fidget. “I mean, it’s not a secret that I know a thing or two about a trashy Old Town slut trying to get a better life by marrying someone rich enough to make her problems go away.” Now she looked at him, her face determinedly impassive as she said what she thought was the truth about her own life. “I don’t blame Ashley for wanting Sean to marry her. He’s an idiot too, so they’ll get along well, and his parents will always bail him out if things get too tight. But she didn’t get the job done. He split and she’s trying to avoid the consequences of her failure.”

“She wants to keep the baby,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “That doesn’t sound like avoiding consequences.”

Mrs. Gold shook her head. “Even if she hadn’t made a deal with you, things were never going to work out for that girl. Not so long as she went around thinking that she didn’t have to work for what she wanted to get out of life.”

She slid her forearms over the glass as she leaned against the counter. The posture displayed her cleavage, but it didn’t seem to be an invitation. Not a pose, just a slump.

“It was the first lesson you ever taught me, Mr. Gold.” She gave a smile, wistful, nostalgic. “Everything comes at a price.”

****

Shortly after Ruby’s car had left town, Emma Swan’s yellow Volkswagen rumbled down the road in the opposite direction.

Half an hour later, the Beetle drove past the shop again. Faster than before, it was now heading the same direction as the runaway Ashley.

Later still, the car raced up the street at a frightening speed. This time, Emma and her passengers made a turn at the hospital.

Rumpelstiltskin smiled and checked his pocket watch. It was almost four in the evening. Gold didn’t normally close the shop so early on Saturdays, but this was a special occasion.

“I’m going to drop you off at home,” he said to Mrs. Gold. “I’ll be back in time to make supper.”

Mrs. Gold looked up from the small case of rings she had been arranging according to size. “Am I allowed to know where you’re going?”

“The hospital,” he answered with no small amount of pleasure. “I’m going to see if Miss Swan will let me steal Ashley’s baby.”

****

Gold was familiar with Storybrooke General Hospital. His physician, Dr. Whale, did his private practice on the third floor of this building. Today, Rumpelstiltskin was heading for the maternity ward.

When he rounded the corner around the reception desk to the waiting room, he saw Emma talking to a nurse. Henry was there too, patiently sitting in one of the stuffed vinyl chairs. The boy’s feet swung back and forth and didn’t touch the ground.

“It’s a healthy six pound girl,” the nurse told Emma. “And the mother is doing fine.”

“What lovely news.” He announced his presence. “Excellent work, Miss Swan. Thank you, for bringing me my merchandise.”

Before Emma could react, before she could vent out any of her undoubtedly righteous fury, Rumpelstiltskin slid past her to get to the vending machines, cool as a mountain stream. He took some coins out of his trouser pocket and deposited them into the coffee machine. He had no intention of drinking any coffee, but it would serve a purpose. When Emma saw that he had a styrofoam cup in one hand and the cane in the other, she would see that he was powerless. Just a harmless old cripple. Not a threat at all.

“You could have mentioned that the precious object Ashley ‘stole’ was her own child.”

Interesting that Emma’s wrath was not the fiery passion of her parents. Prince Charming would have drawn his sword as soon as the Dark One had made his presence known. But aggression had never done the prince any favors, and maybe Emma knew that posturing would only waste time. Get to the point, was the Savior’s way of doing things. Whatever needs to be done, just do it.

How delightfully refreshing.

“You didn’t need to know,” he answered calmly. “All you needed to do was keep Miss Boyd from leaving Storybrooke.”

“She isn’t going to run,” Emma said. “I talked with her today. She wants to stay. She wants to raise her kid.”

“Now, that’s a very heartwarming sentiment.” Rumpelstiltskin brought the cup to his lips to look like he was drinking. “But I have a contract that says that baby is going home with me. I even have a car seat for the wee thing.”

“That’s a lie,” Emma said, correctly. “Consent to adoption papers can’t be signed sooner than seventy-two hours after the birth.”

That was a good strike, but he didn’t let it land. “I also have an envelope filled with more cash than Miss Boyd has ever seen in her life. I find that sort of thing tends to smooth over certain technicalities.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you even want with a newborn? Why are you adopting?”

His instinct was to let out an impish giggle from the old world. But he restrained himself just in time. “I’m not,” he said simply. “I’m merely the go-between. I arranged things with a very nice couple. They’ve already adopted one daughter, and were willing to take on a second.”

“‘Willing?’” Emma repeated the word with exaggerated brightness. “Well, Ashley is more than ‘willing.’ She is eager. She is desperate to keep this baby. And I’m not going to let you stop her from being a mother.”

Rumpelstiltskin grinned. Here it was at last, the declaration of intent. In her own way, Emma Swan had just drawn her sword. Now he could draw his.

“A mother who committed--what did you say earlier? Breaking and entering, petty burglary and assault?”

She clenched her jaw and he went on.

“All I have to do is press charges against the mother, and that baby is going into the foster care system. And that would be a real shame. Did you enjoy your time in the foster system, Emma?“

At that barb, she fought back. “No jury in the world is going to convict a woman who only committed crimes so she could keep her kid.”

He shrugged, dodged the attack. “Maybe.”

Emma pressed in. “And maybe a court of law will think there’s something kind of fishy about a pawnbroker pressuring a teenage girl into placing her baby for adoption for financial compensation. ‘More cash than she’d ever seen in her life,’ isn’t that what you said? Why do you have that much cash, Gold? Do you want a court looking into your business dealings? Or into any other contracts you might have?”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. Oh, the Savior was magnificent--like a force of nature or a perfectly executed spell. If she was ever actually a threat to him, he might well have something to worry about.

“I like you, Miss Swan,” he said. “You’re not afraid of me. That’s either cocky or presumptuous, but I find it charming. And I’d like to have you on my side.”

She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t loosen her stance. “So you’ll rip up Ashley’s contract?”

He raised his cup of coffee in a gesture of helplessness. “That’s not what I do. After all, a contract, an agreement between two parties where both of them benefit--that’s the very foundation of a civilized society.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yes, what happened today has all been very civilized.”

“And there’s the adoptive family to consider. I’ll have to make things right with them and that won’t be easy. It’s not something I’ll do for nothing.”

Arms still crossed over her chest, Emma stepped closer to him. “Alright, Gold. What will you do it for? What’s your price?”

Rumpelstiltskin gave her a long, slow look. “I don’t know just yet,” he said. “But seeing the lengths you went to for Ashley’s sake is rather inspiring, Miss Swan. You said you were going to help her, and you did. I may be wrong, but I think you have the resources necessary to help a lot of people.”

“So what’s your point?”

“Help me,” he said with all the sincerity he could while still acting like Gold. “When there comes a time, when I--or one of mine--needs the assistance of Emma Swan, fight for me. The way you did for Ashley. Call it a favor.”

“A favor, huh?” Emma offered her hand. “Deal.”

He tossed the coffee in the trash to take her hand and shake it. Now he knew how the Savior worked. He knew what she was capable of, and now she owed him a favor. He had won so much--and all he’d had to do was lose.

“Deal.”

#golden rings #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfic #ouat

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hookahmancer · 3 years

Text

Coldsteel: Hot and Cold part 1

The howling sirens of the Mobius City bank can be heard from across the village, out running with a big sack of money is none other than the nefarious naydoer Coldsteel.

He pulls down his bandito mask just long enough to tell the chasing guards behind him "nothing person-el wagie cucks!" The guards stop and gasp

"He took off his mask! We've been exposed!" "He really is the most vile!"

He sneers but in his path is Amy Rose.

"What do you think you're doing Coldsteel?" He looks around confused

"You're not Sonic. What was he busy or something? Sending his poor little..." He looks up and down her body. "Sister? To umm...buh"

"SISTER?! I'll have you know little man I'm Sonic's future wife!"

"I doubt that..." She grumbles and pulls her hammer back and he mutters "oh shit" and runs towards his left. She yells for him to come back here and in the far distance "nothing person-el kiddo!"

She grumbles and says "what trash..." The guards have these smirks on their face.

"What are you two smirking about?!"

"Nothing kiddo. Nothing at all." "He calls everyone kid."

"It's about context Amy. You know if you plan to win Sonic's heart you gotta pick up on these things."

Meanwhile as Coldsteel is still running he starts getting short on breath.

"Wow this running stuff is hard work how does Sonic do it?! Imma take a smoke break. That'll reinvigorate me. Smoking is way better than cholesterol riddled chili dogs." As he starts vaping he realizes where he is.

"Wait...isn't this one of Eggman's territories? Oh that schizo could be of great use to me!" He puts his vape away, grabs his money sack and heads toward the entrance where this giant spike robot looks down at him assessing.

"Hedgehog... Not Sonic, not Shadow, state your name and business."

"Coldsteel. Business is let me in or else."

"Threat assessment confirmed. Hate that hedgehog." Spikes come out of it's body that Coldsteel easily avoids, but realizes he can't make physical contact with the robot without those spikes prodding into him.

"I probably should've thought this through... How does friggin Shadow do it?! Oh wait he has a gun. I should probably get me one of those. I mean now that I have MONEY I can... But..."

Eggman's fortress doors slide open and Dr. Eggman walks out aggravated.

"What is all this commotion about? HEDGEHOG!"

"Wo wo there Eggy! I didn't come here to fight but make a deal!"

Eggman raises his hand to have the spike robot stand down "I'm listening..."

Coldsteel plops down the sack revealing the swathes of cash inside.

"I got all this money see? And I'm willing to pay you a large sum of it to make me something..."

"Pthfft. I am a SCIENTIST! What good is your money to me?! I'm basically a god! If I want something I can just create it. Perfect it. Your money is no good here, go home."

Coldsteel puts on a Joe Biden voice "comeon man!"

"What would you even have had me build you? Some sorta ray gun to nuke that insipid Shadow? Perhaps some sorta quantum accelerator boots so you could fight toe to toe with Sonic?"

"Man you are a one track mind Scrambled Eggs. No I don't want anything like that. Use that genius of yours to create something useful like a love potion."

Eggman squeels a bit but plays it off as a cough at being called a genius.

"A love potion you say? Such trivial engineering and morally incomprehensible! Why would I manipulate the thoughts and feelings of the neurological pathways of Sonic or one of his annoying friends just to rattle them with false dopamine and serotonin?!"

"Cause we're BAD GUYS you fucking..." Coldsteel rubs his nasal cavity.

"Look, if lets say as an example, you used a love potion on Sonic."

"ARE YOU INSANE PURPLE HEDGEHOG?!"

"Figuratively green eggs and ham! If you used a love potion on Sonic, he'd stop ruining your evil plans. Than you could do whatever you want!"

Eggman strokes his mustache and paces.

"I see your point...However, my relationship with that...hedgehog is complex enough as it is. I don't need to make the situation worse with..."

"Well it's not for YOU, IIII want the love potion to use on..."

"There is NO WAY I'm going to develop a love potion for you to defeat MY sworn enemy!"

"Holy crap I'm gonna kick you in those two little eggs of yours dangling. IT'S NOT FOR SONIC!!!"

"Hmmm..." Eggman paces around some more playing with his hands.

"The answer is still no. Your intention to bait out one of his little friends is commendable, but"

"Oh I see. You just can't do it."

"That's not it at all I just..." Coldsteel grabs his money sack

"You're not a genius at all. You're just some incel playing with his dangerous toys!"

"How dare you?! Fine hedgehog, I will devise you the weaponry you so desire...but it will be on my terms as you are incapable of realizing how volatile playing with emotions can be!"

"Yeah yeah yeah, great. Free will and all that fortune cookie goodness. Let's just do it!"

Later Eggman is mixing together compounds in his lab, puts it in a dart vial, and loads it into a gun. Pointing it around squinting one eye.

"So whom is the intended target hedgehog?"

"Well, I don't know her name, but she's pink, and has this hammer, and..."

Eggman fumbles almost dropping the gun but catches it. "AMY?! YOU'RE PLANNING TO SHOOT AMY OF ALL PEOPLE?!"

"Watch where you're aiming that thing hard boiled!"

Eggman smirks.

"I'll admit. I had my doubts at first...but that is a diabolical plan! Amy has obsessed over Sonic for such a long time, to suddenly lose those feelings for you would leave a subconscious impression Sonic was no good for her. Her infatuation for you will turn into a bitter resentment for Sonic and SHE will be my weapon!"

"...Yes. Yes that's totally what I was thinking. Now gimme the gun." Eggman pulls it away

"As if I would trust something of my creation in the hands of greasy grubby hedgehog hands! I'll be the one doing the shooting!"

"...please no." "Come hedgehog. We have a soldier to recruit into our villainous army!"

As they're hiding in some bushes with binoculars Any is talking with Sonic and Tails about something or another. Eggman whispers to Coldsteel. "Do you see them?"

Coldsteel is checking out up Amy's skirt while she playfully fidgets talking to Sonic.

"Oh I see'em..."

"Alright than I'm going to take the shot. In 3...2...1!"

He shoots the dart and in all her little movements and dancing smitten over Sonic it just misses her and Tails is shot right in the chest with the dart.

"Darn it I missed."

"Eggman I swear to God I'm gonna hang your webos as a trophy."

The heroes are freaking out. "Where did that dart come from?!" Amy screams and Sonic traces it from that angle to the bushes they're hiding it and sees figures in them and runs over drop kicking Eggman right in the face while Tails is having a panic attack saying "is it poison?! Am I gonna die Amy?!"

Sonic thrashes on Eggman "I knew you were a nasty ambre Eggshit but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to do something like this!"

Coldsteel is hyping Sonic up like "yeah Sonic, kick him again! That Egg punk is getting everything that's coming to him!"

"Mutiny! Treason! All you hedgehogs are alike..."

"Heh, nothing person-el kid."

Tails sees them essentially bullying Eggman and just starts to laugh.

Amy puts her hand on Tails shoulder "are you ok Tails?"

"I feel fine... Actually I feel great. Who, whose that other hedgehog over there just making fun off Eggbutt while Sonic"

Amy squints her eyes and clenches her fist. "Coldsteel!"

Coldsteel notices Amy has spotted him and says

"Well I'd love to stay Doctor but I uhh...I think I left my vape on."

"Don't leave me here with this blue brute! We're a team!"

Sonic about to punch Eggman again says "team?" And looks Coldsteel's way. Coldsteel looks around and makes a run for it. "Gotta go fast!"

He runs for it and trips "ahhh fuck! Me knee!"

Tail gasps and flies over there as quickly as he can. As Any and Sonic notice Tails is acting strange.

"Are you ok Coldsteel?" "Yeah, that just friggin hurt... Sonic never stumbles. Fricking Mary Sue ass nigga."

Tails giggles and says "hold on..." Pulls out a first aid kit with anti bacterial, napkins, and bandaids, and puts it on Coldsteel. "All better!" With a big innocent smile and Coldsteel smiles back.

Sonic yells at Tails "Tails get away from him. That guy is bad news!"

Tails gets up and scolds Sonic "Sonic you know what sorta psychopath Egg garbage is! He probably used to some sorta mind control device, or or...held his family hostage! Or maybe he thought we were the bad guys! Or..."

"Tails bro, you're acting really strange... Whatever Eggman infected you with. It's messing with your head."

"My head is fine! You're just...being a jerk!" Tails turns back to Coldsteel and holds his hand.

"You wanna stay a while Coldsteel? I'd love to show you the plane I've been working on! Maybe Any could cook us up a...well I mean her cooking stinks but she tries."

"I heard that you little twerp!"

Coldsteel rubs the back of his neck really uncomfortable at the predicament he's found himself in and says "Ehhh, sorry. But your friends are kinda right about me little guy."

"My name is Tails." "Yeah yeah Tails. Uhh... Y'see EGGMAN HERE kinda screwed up the plan."

"He does that a lot." "I'm noticing..."

Eggman is crying on the ground "WHERE'S MY BANDAID?!"

"So I'm gonna go..." "Please Mr. Coldsteel?" He sees the sadness is Tail's eyes, the suspicion in Sonic's, the disdain in Amy's, he raises his hand and Tails flinches thinking he's gonna hit him but just places it on top of his head.

"Nothing person-el kid..." And runs away. Amy screams "yeah you better run coward!"

Eggman is still sobbing and looks up at Tails

"C...could you spare a little of that oxytocin hormone scoring through your blood stream for a genius?" Tails just raises his chin up like the Skinner meme

"Pathetic..."

#sonic the hedgehog #fanfic #cold steel #sonic memes

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loveafterthefact · 4 years

Text

Love After the Fact Chapter 21: Getting to know one another was a terrible decision, here’s why. Plug your ears.

Lance: Feelings, oh no Keith: Feelings, what are these and what do i do with them? Adam: Pfft, feelings, I- Wha- Um. I kicked a baby today? That's so evil guys, come on! Lance: *skeptical look* Keith: *skeptical look* Adam: Alright, fine! Feelings, gross! And I didn't kick the baby... I just took its candy.

First Previous Next

Keith stares at the boiling-hot rock at his feet, ear twitching with curiosity.

“Oh dear. We’d best run inside.” Alfor places a hand between Keith’s shoulders as they make a break for the hole in the castle wall while more rocks fall from the sky. "This happens sometimes! You get used to it!"

“Is this why Lance doesn’t know what rain is?!” Keith shouts as they dodge screaming rocks.

“Yes! He’d lose his quiznaking mind if you told him about it!” Alfor yanks Keith out of the way just as a flaming rock smashes right where he was about to be. Alfor opens a hidden door (which Keith makes note of for later), yanks him into the hall. Alfor pants, doubled over. “Ancients, I'm old. Are you alright?”

“I think so. Does that happen a lot?”

“Only every few phoebs. You might have noticed, but we have an asteroid belt for our innermost planetary ring. It's where much or our ore comes from.”

“I thought nothing of your rings, until now.”

“Well you and Crown Prince Lancel will get to hear all about the minor inconvenience of it when you hold court tomorrow.” They’re back to formal names, like taking off clothes. Or perhaps like putting them on.

“Excellent. I can’t wait. You know, every time you make me go to court, I lose an egg. Infertility is already almost assured-”

“Don’t even bother, Prince Yorak. I’ve been enduring court for centaphoebs. It’s someone else’s turn.”

“Worth a try.”

Alfor chuckles. “I’d best go attend to my husband. I have been working, for better or worse, and he misses me. Be careful, Prince Yorak. Love complicates things.”

“Ke- Yorak!” Lance comes running up, immediately puts a hand around his waist. “Are you alright? It’s stoning outside!”

“Yes, we’re fine.” Keith sighs. “Can you, um. Would you mind showing me the way back to our quarters? I don’t know it.”

“Sure. Come on.” Lance slips his hand to the small of Keith's back, guiding him away. Keith pulls his braid over his shoulder, twisting the end through his fingers.

“Crown Prince Lancel.”

Lance freezes, turns to look at his father. Keith feels a buzz of energy coming from the hand on his back. He can feel the breath Lance takes before he responds. “Yes, King Alfor?”

There's a long, pregnant pause. Then, “You’re doing an excellent job, Lance. With everything. I’ve… I’ve never been more proud of you.”

Lance swallows audibly. Aside from that, the Altean is disturbingly still. Keith twists the end of his braid, says nothing. Finally, “Thank you, Father.”

Back in their room, Lance frantically inspects him. “Are you alright? Were you hurt? What did he say to you?”

“You forgot to mention that an Altean marriage is void without consummation.”

“Nevermind that! You were alone with my possibly corrupt father and then out in a stoning! Are you alright?”

“I…” Keith stares blankly at his spouse while Lance turns his face this way and that, deeply concerned. He swallows. He’s in danger of making this whole mess so much more complicated that it ever needed to be.

“Keith!” Those blue and pink eyes glass with worry. “Are. you. alright?!”

“I- I’m fine.” Keith twists the end of his braid, clenching his jaw before he can chirp and embarrass himself.

“You say as you display a brand new nervous habit,” Lance mutters, still fussing. “Also, your ends are split and you should let me trim it.”

“Sure.”

Lance opens his mouth, pauses. “What, really?”

Keith nods, not trusting himself to say more than a single, monosyllabic word at a time. Lance tilts his chin up, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like yourself. You didn’t get conked on the head, did you?”

“N- no. I might have taught the king a new swear word, though.”

“Okay.” Lance draws back. He doesn’t sound convinced, but he lets it go, runs a hand through his starlight hair. “Go… take a bath or something. Rest. Relax. Whatever you want. The stoning will be an issue for the rest of the night, so do stay inside.”

Keith nods, grabs some nightclothes, slips into the shower. He stands under the water, draws his hair over his shoulder, unraveling it. He’s being stupid. He can’t cuss out a king and start falling for his husband all in one day.

Actually, cussing Alfor out had been pretty fun. But the rest is incredibly stupid. Keith lets his forehead tip against the smooth white walls.

He is incredibly stupid.

Back in the main room, Lance paces. Adam watches.

“I just don’t understand why I care so much. I mean, I've taken good care of my lovers, but he's firstly, not a lover and secondly, I never cared this much about anyone else!”

Adam smirks, pushes his glasses up his nose. “Perhaps Lady Renli is right. Maybe you do have a thing for kids. Oh, I’m sorry. Kits. ”

“You are disgusting. Why do I keep you?”

“Because you’d die without me. Speaking of which, someone tried to assassinate you both while you were out today. Unilu, we suspect.”

“Oh. Did you kill them?”

“With my bare hands.” Adam smirks, scales flashing with perfect timing. It's highly unsettling.

Lance blinks. “Really?”

“Of course not. I paid someone else to do it. You think I’d get blood on my hands? Do you have any idea what blood can do for soil acidity? I wouldn't have to explain this to Takashi.” Adam scrolls through his datapad, typing on his holographic keyboard.

“I don’t know; I just had this incredibly vivid image of you popping up behind someone and snapping their neck and then calmly going to have brunch with Keith’s littermate as though murder means nothing to you. Also, I'm telling Keith you've got first name privileges. Even he doesn't seem to have that.” Lance has never been more concerned with the person he appointed as his attendant.

“You’re partially correct. You don’t get to know which parts. Also, no one says 'no' to me. Not twice anyway.”

“That's highly disturbing. Are you at least flirting with Shiro?” Nothing. Lance pouts. “Whatever. What do I do about Keith?”

“Do you love him?”

“...No.”

“Do you want to love him? Do that thing people that aren't me do where they love each other and have a fulfilling relationship?”

Lance glares, sticks out his bottom lip; Adam raises an eyebrow; Lance crumbles immediately. Mumbles, “...Kind of?”

Adam sighs, smiles. “Then, just do what you’re already doing. You’re working hard to fulfill both his needs as a kit and as a person. You respect him, you're letting him grow on his own, and you're working to include him in your life. That last bit is so incredibly important.”

“You know, growing up, I never imagined I’d one day be raising my own husband. I just hope I can raise him right. I don’t want to be a deadbeat with a worthless spouse who sneaks out after dark and runs wild with all the other delinquent child brides.” Lance shakes his head in mock disappointment. Keith sneaks out a lot to go wander aimlessly in the woods and he has absolutely no problem with that. He trusts him to come back.

“You’re morally dubious, your Majesty.”

“And you’re morally bankrupt, my friend.”

“I never even made a deposit.” Adam smirks, smug and satisfied.

“You say that like it’s a good thing. You actually sound proud of that.”

“Tell me something, your Majesty. Where would you be if I had?”

“Do you two need a minute alone or…?” Keith steps into the room, hair soaking through his nightshirt.

“Excuse you, I am a married man. How dare you, sir?!” Lance grins, holding out a hand to Keith, who takes it, sits down on the bed a respectful distance away. Keith seems okay. A little… small, like he wants to vanish, but he doesn’t seem injured- wait. “Hey, did you hurt yourself?”

“Hm? Oh.” Keith holds up his burned arm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re still bleeding,” Adam pointed out. “How did you not notice?”

“I was distracted.” Keith starts twisting his hair, until he notices the Alteans watching him.

“You didn’t tell me he had a new nervous habit. When did he develop a new nervous habit? Do you have any idea what this could do to my-”

Lance pinches the bridge of his nose. “Adam could you maybe-”

“Lay the fuck off?" Keith suggests. "Just this once.”

"Hey!"

“Wow your language is really awful today. Adam, do shut up please.” Lance munches his lip, tries to figure out how to set his spouse at ease. “Do you want me to cut your hair?”

“Okay.”

Lance smiles, thanks Adam when he materializes with a pair of hair scissors and a fine comb. “Here, you can sit in Adam’s chair, since he’s up.”

“Oh, thanks so much," Adam grumbles. "I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re welcome for not being dead!”

“Dead?” Keith asks, turning to him with alarm as the doors close. “What?”

Lance draws on his quintessence, runs his fingers over Keith’s wound. “Assassination attempt. Adam took care of it.”

“I bet he didn’t even blink.”

“Certainly not, as he watched his own assassin break my assassin’s neck.”

“Adam has his own assassin?” It occurs to Lance as Keith asks his question that they should likely be way more concerned about this. Eh. Facts of life.

“I imagine he grows them like tubers in his garden. Or perhaps in a jar.”

“I believe it. I bet he keeps the jar illuminated so he can watch it grow while he falls asleep like a very macabre night light… I’m glad you weren’t assassinated- Why are you petting my wound?”

“Look.” Lance smiles as Keith gapes down at his arm, sees his skin closing. It is pretty miraculous. Both the healing and the fact that Lance managed to do it without blowing them up. “Hey, I’m sorry you got hurt. And that you had to deal with my father. I know he’s not exactly your favorite person.”

“It’s fine. I still hate him, but… I think I understand him better. So that’s something.” Lance hums, pulls him into a chair. Keith sits, feels a comb running through his hair, the *snick* of the hair scissors. ”You won’t cut off too much, will you?”

“No, I won’t ruin your beautiful hair. You will, if you keep clawing at it when you’re stressed… You’re surprisingly vain.”

“I'm not vain about everything. It’s just the one thing… What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uh, court, then studying crop yields. Wanna come? You can learn all about… I dunno, plants I guess.”

“Hm. sounds exciting. Yeah, I’ll come.”

“Great! It’s a date,” Lance teases. “It’ll be so romantic, learning about shreika feces or whatever. But we could use a higher sustainable yield so we’re more desirable for interplanetary commerce.”

“I take it there’s a long-term aim in mind?”

“Two. Firstly, alleviate poverty and the resulting bitterness among the people who grow my food. Secondly, start creating interplanetary relationships based on something other than the terror of our vicious army and merciless, excessively destructive armada.”

“I like that idea. Perhaps we can go speak to some of the farmers? People… People like to know that they’re valued. Talking to them instead of researching them in your enormous private library will go a long way toward gaining their respect. Also, agrarian communities tend to be close-knit, so you may need to start with small things before they'll open up to you.”

“Oh, like adjusting taxes? Done! But I’ll keep that in mind. There you go! Hair’s all cut. I worked a bit of quintessence into it to keep it healthy.”

“Thank you… My father kept his hair long. He, uh. When I was a small kit, my mother was fighting and I was too young to be left on my own. My father would give me the end of his braid to play with while we were hunting. We’d have to be still and quiet for a long time, and it helped if I had something to do. We didn't have much.” Keith pulls a lock of hair over his shoulder. It feels nice, nicer than before. “It seems stupid, but he was so strong and brave and this is my way of honoring him.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s nice that you found a way to remember him. Also, I wanna see you strangle someone with it. It’d be super cool.”

Keith laughs, soft and sweet. Lance smiles at the sound of it. “Well, maybe someone else will try to assassinate us and you’ll get your wish.”

Lance flops back on the bed, wriggling up to the pillows. “Yeah. If Adam doesn’t spoil the fun with his stupid efficiency.”

Keith flops, wriggles to lie next to him. “Yeah. He’s terrifying. I think he’s the most dangerous person here.”

“Oh. Yes, without a doubt. He’s pure evil and we should all be afraid. Except Takashi.”

"What?! That's not fair! Even I don't call him that!"

"I know. Can you even imagine? Pure evil and pure good teamed up together? They could do anything they wanted. Anything at all."

“Mhm. Goodnight, Lance. I'll teach you about 'fuck' tomorrow.” Keith nestles himself down in the blankets, yawning sleepily as he curls himself into a ball, tail up by his hands. He's exhausted, deserves a good night's sleep.

"Ooh, can't wait." Lance activates Keith’s datapad, dims the lights. He leaves the fire crackling. Nights are getting cold; winter is on the way. As he burrows into the bed, he remembers something, sits back up. He reaches over, rubs at the base of Keith’s velveteen ear. The Galra purrs, leaning into the touch as he settles deeper into the bed.

Lance smiles. “Goodnight, Keith.”

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #galra keith #altean lance #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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adarlingwrites · 3 years

Text

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XIX

January 4, 2278.

Time to look for the GECK.

Percy said that it stands for “Garden of Eden Creation Kit.” It’s supposed to be the thing that’ll make Project Purity work. She knows about it better; there are words she used that I didn’t understand.

There’s one in Vault 87, but that shithole’s irradiated to hell and back. Percy said that it’ll kill her despite the mutation in her genes. She will cook before her body can even recover.

So, we have to go through a place called Lamplight Caverns. It’s on the western side of the map, a long way from Underworld. We’ve been travelling for a few days now. When we finally arrived, it’s cold, and snowing. Good thing Percy went back to Tulip’s shop for some winter clothes before we left the city. Even Dogmeat has a scarf now.

As we arrived in Lamplight, a boy with a rifle shouted at us at the entrance, threatening to fire.

“Hold it right there! Don’t take another step, or we’ll blow your fucking head off!” he shouts at us. Percy holds her hands in the air and looks at me with eyes wide in surprise.

Damn. This kid’s mouth is almost as filthy as Percy’s.

“Whoa, hold on there, I’m a friend,” Percy says to the kid, holding back her laughter.

“You're big, and I don't have any big friends. You better just go out the way you came in,” the kid replies, still pointing his rifle at us.

“Well, it’s time for you to make big friends. I’m Percy, and this is Charon. Our dog’s name is Dogmeat. What’s your name?”

“I'm MacCready. I run Little Lamplight, because they made me the mayor. And I don't like strangers. Or mungos.”

At this point I got curious. “The hell’s a mungo?” I ask him.

“You are, mungo! You adults are tall and clumsy and we don’t want anything to do with you,” MacCready spits back. Percy loses it and giggles.

“Wow, and I thought I was an angry kid. Listen, we just need to get to Vault 87, and the only safe route is through your town. We promise not to bother anyone. So, may we come in? Please?” she asks.

The kid holsters his rifle, and he looks surprised. “What? Why would you wanna do that? That’s where the monsters are,” he tells us, voice low.

“We can get rid of the monsters for you.”

MacCready rolls his eyes. “Sorry, mungo, but we don’t trust you.”

Percy groans at this point, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eye. “How will we get you to trust us?”

“Why would I fucking trust you? I’ve got no reason to. I ain’t gonna let what happened to Penny, Sammy, and Squirrel happen to anyone else, so take a hike. You mungos are nothing but trouble.”

Percy’s eyes are alert. I can almost see the cogs working in her head. “What happened to your friends?”

“They got caught, by mungos! Slavers from Paradise Falls. I told them to be careful but the stupid kids didn’t listen!”

That is one frustrated kid.

With a conspiring look, Percy turns to me, then back to MacCready.

“What if we save them? We’ve got a bone to pick with those slavers, too.”

MacCready falters. “You’d… you’d do that?”

Percy nudges me.

“Yeah. I’ll unload an entire clip on those bastards who took your friends,” I tell him, and he gives me a grin.

“You’re one scary motherfucker, and those assholes deserve getting shot. Fine, if you bring my friends back, I might let you in.”

“Looks like we have a lot of people to free, Charon.”

What Percy said made me recall our conversation at the museum rooftop days ago.

January 1, 2278.

It was the start of a new year, and I’m in a better place than the last one.

A kind, beautiful, smoothskin angel came into my life and purchased my contract from the evil bastard that held it for fifteen years. Under her employment, I’ve experienced liberties I never had, and experienced emotions I’d never thought I will. I’m sitting on the rooftop of the Museum of History, sharing a scotch with her, tasting her breath on my lips.

Life is good, for the first time in centuries.

But she just had to ask that question, didn’t she?

“Don’t you have plans of your own?”

I never had plans of my own. The contract made sure of that. I carry the will of whoever held it. I know I’m supposed to tell her that, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

She’s still waiting for an answer. How will I answer this?

DeLoria was already blackout drunk on a bedroll a few feet away from us with the dog, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him hearing about the conversation I’m having with Percy. I sat in silence beside her, contemplating what kind of answer I shall give her.

“I told you. I’ll stay by your side as long as you will have me.”

Percy is frowning, the same pitying look she gave me in Megaton coming back. I didn’t want to see that. I didn’t need to be pitied.

“None at all? Like, even something small? Like finishing a new book? Anything you want to do?”

I pondered at her questions. Percy is the only employer I had who let me make my own decisions. Come to think of it… I never really thought of the future unless it’s short term, such as planning how we will storm a base full of super mutants, or what will we hunt for dinner. Not until now. There’s no future for me. There is only the contract.

I tell Percy that, and she leans her head on my shoulder.

“I’m not gonna be around forever, big guy. You need a life of your own.”

For some reason, what she said stings.

“If you’re planning to sell my contract in the future, Percy, I will not take it personally. It is my directive to serve who holds it. Should you not need me anymore, I shall understand.”

Percy looks up to me and gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“No, Charon. I’m trying to find a way to free you of your contract. So you can move on.”

Free me?

Of my contract?

Move on?

What the hell is she talking about?

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, miss.”

I haven’t called her ‘miss’ for a while now. I saw her shoulders sag when I called her that, but then, she looked at me with that determined glare.

“Hey, you disobeyed an order. It seems small, but it’s a significant improvement. We can start from there.”

I did?

“If I did, it’s certainly accidental and won’t happen again.”

Percy places a finger against my ruined lips. I felt myself twitch at the smoothness of her skin, sweating from the places where I still had skin. She draws closer. I can smell the scotch, the Abraxo on her clothes, and a scent that was hers alone. Her lips are wet from the scotch, and her eyes bright.

I want to reach out to grab her and claim her lips. But I could not. Should not.

“It didn’t happen while I was holding your contract. It happened when the Talons did. You didn’t kill me even when one of them directly ordered you to.”

Fuck, she’s right. I remember now.

The gravity of the realization felt like a brahmin stepping on my chest.

“Miss...”

“No. Call me Percy. You’re not calling me ‘miss’ again.”

“Percy, this is bad. I disobeyed an order intentionally. I am compromised,” I tell her, reaching for my shotgun, as I’ve been conditioned to do.

“Compromised?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“My non-obedience could compromise you too. When the others who went under the same training I received are compromised, they are terminated.”

Percy eyes the shotgun in my hands. She jumps to grab it before I can do anything with it and tosses it aside. “No, no, no, let’s get this away from you. No termination is going to happen tonight, or ever.”

“Percy, if I disobeyed an order from them, it means that I can disobey an order from you too.”

She stands up, paces around and throws her hands in the air like she always does when she’s frustrated.

“That’s the point! I don’t want you to just obey me. I don’t want you to be just a bodyguard. I don’t want you to be just a living weapon,” she yells as she walks back to me.

“Percy, sit down. You’ve had enough to drink,” I try to dismiss her, fearing the ideas she’s instilling in my head.

“Stop making me feel like I don’t know what I’m doing! Yes, I sometimes say stupid things and do embarrasing shit when I’m drinking, but this is the most honest and raw you will get me,” she cries.

I relent. I didn’t say a word further.

“We’re not fucking Herbert ‘Daring’ Dashwood and his ghoul manservant Argyle from that cheesy radio drama Three Dog fucking loves to play. You’re not just the ‘Lone Wanderer’s’ sidekick, you’re not just hired muscle, and you’re definitely not just a slave like so many people in the wasteland claiming you to be. You’re you. You’re Charon.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say to her.

“I want you to be free. To take a path of your own. And if you still want to be with me, I want to be in your life not as your boss. I want us to be equals. I want to be your partner.”

Tears are rolling down her cheeks and it’s catching the moonlight. I’m still speechless. She collapses in front of me, on her knees, and she takes my hand.

“Please?”

My mind was blank. I just closed my hand around hers and pulled her closer, her warmth settling against my chest. I dwarfed her as I pressed her closer.

“Percy, angel, even if I wanted to be released from the contract… I’m not sure if we can undo all that conditioning.”

“We’ll take things one step at a time, like we always do,” she says in between sniffles.

Percy removes her PipBoy glove and fishes out my contract, an old piece of paper, yellowed at the edges.

“This stupid thing says that if anyone attempts to destroy your contract, you have to kill them,” she slurs, pointing to a string of text. I’m still learning to read, but I knew the words by heart.

Percy’s finger moves to another line. “And this one says that you must protect this contract with your life.”

I nod at Percy.

“Of course, me attempting to get rid of it will just lead us to killing each other. It’s written in a way that doesn’t let you out of it. Fuck, it doesn’t even have an exit clause for you, but it has one for me.”

“What’s an exit clause?” I ask her, while resting my chin on top of her head.

“It basically invalidates the contract. Here,” she points near the bottom of the paper. “This is where it says that physical violence on my part invalidates my entitlement to the contract.”

“I see.”

“But there’s no such thing for you written here. There’s nothing that can absolve you from it.”

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t deflate from that statement.

“Which means, this is a choice you have to make for yourself, Charon.”

I gulped.

I didn’t make my own choices. They were made for me. The government made it for me when they signed me up for the indoctrination camp, and it’s been that way for around 200 years. Sure, Percy lets me make my own ones on things like dinner, but nothing this big.

I’ve been having mutinous thoughts ever since the slavers used me as their hunting dog, fifteen years ago. The pleads of the people. The cries of the escaped slaves. I can’t count how many hours of sleep I lost thinking about them. I’m responsible for their misery, because those fucking slavers held my contract.

I remember that security chief in Rivet City, Harkness. The synth who broke free from his masters and assumed a new identity.

How did he do it again?

November 3, 2277.

The trail was getting clearer. Percy was close to discovering the identity of the escaped robot that the arrogant business-type guy in Dr. Li’s lab was looking for. The asshole’s name’s Zimmer, and the robot in question is called AR-23. A woman who introduced herself as a member of the Railroad pleaded for her to stop her investigation, but Percy was insistent in warning the synth.

Percy’s reason was that if Zimmer found someone with a lesser conscience, the robot in question would be blindsided and ripped away from his new life. It’s just like her reasoning when she defended me from the people of Underworld for killing Ahzrukhal.

Percy said she was going to look for a man called Pinkerton in his secret lab that’s only accessible from underwater. Her investigation led her to believing that he was the one who was responsible for helping the synth escape. She had me and the dog wait on the banks of the river, and she dove into the murky water in that environment suit Moira Brown gave her after she irradiated herself for their experiments.

I was worried as fuck. She had no prior experience swimming.

When she re-emerged some time later, Percy, distraught, told me that AR-23 is Harkness.

We rushed to meet him.

When Percy used the recall code on Harkness, he started telling us about the things the escaped synths instilled in him.

Concepts of freedom.

Self-determination.

My friend and I helped him get rid of Zimmer. I remember unloading a shotgun blast through the old man’s stomach. After gifting Percy his beloved plasma rifle, Harkness continued on as normal.

That night, we went to Arlington Library, and it was the first time Percy ever suggested getting rid of the contract.

“Big guy, if Harkness could outgrow his programming, do you think you can defy your contract too?”

I remember grunting at her with annoyance.

“If disobedience is among your concerns, it’s unfounded. I will remain loyal to you as long as you hold my contract.”

Percy tilted her head at me. “That’s not what I- never mind.”

She spent the night scouring for pre-war books about the law.

Now, I see the weight her words and actions carried back then.

She had been planning this all along.

She always wanted to set me free.

“When you’re ready, we’ll get rid of this stupid piece of paper together,” Percy mutters, pulling me away from my thoughts.

I was thankful that she didn’t look up. My eyes were wet.

I blinked the tears away.

“I look forward to it.”

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #fallout 3 charon #charon fallout 3 #butch deloria #madison li #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #writers on tumblr

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spectraspecs-writes · 3 years

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Korriban - Chapter 96

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 95. Chapter 97.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

———–

We wake up at the same time, to the sound of Jolee coyly saying, “Good morning, you two.”

Carth awkwardly covers himself, which is adorable, because the last person who’s going to judge us is Jolee. “I was wondering why Carth never came back to his bunk last night,” he says, “And why Mission has been squealing all morning.”

“Mission squealing?” I say, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Apparently she came in earlier looking for some spare parts and found the two of you,” he says. Well, damn. I mean, she was going to find out eventually, I had just hoped to do it on my own terms. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened. I’m surprised she didn’t wake you.”

“Hang on,” Carth says, “You keep tabs on me?”

“We’re on a Sith planet, and you’re going to judge me for keeping my eyes open?” Jolee says in his finicky old man voice, and he scoffs. Then he turns his attention back to me. “Now, lass, I can certainly see the allure of staying in here all day, but I think Master Uthar would feel differently, don’t you?” he says, “Unless you don’t plan on finding the Star Map today.”

Oh shit. “The Star Map. The tomb - I completely forgot!” I start to scramble for my robe.

“I thought as much,” Jolee says, “Try not to keep the Sith Master waiting too long, hmm?” And he leaves.

As much haste as I feel right now, his smile felt good. It would be so easy for him to not approve and be vocal about it. Not that I need or want his approval, or anybody’s for that matter. But these guys are my friends and knowing that my happiness is important to them is comforting. Like I said yesterday, despite her promise, Bastila is going to have a problem here. And Juhani definitely will. And I understand where she’s coming from - even if it was just for a few weeks, she fell to the Dark Side, and the Jedi told her that love leads to the Dark Side so she’d just be trying to shield me from my pain, spare me her experiences. She has no idea that I’ve thought about all that already and that Bastila and I have gone round and round on that particular topic a number of times before. I’ve got a handle on it. But knowing Jolee is supportive, and seeing it on his face, is a good feeling.

Pants! I have found pants. As I start to put them on, Carth starts laughing softly at me. “What? What’s so funny?”

“You can get away with wearing my jacket, but if you keep trying to put on my pants we’re going to have a problem,” he says.

His--? Oh. Right. These are much thicker than mine. “It’s the Sith’s fault for making everything balck,” I say, tossing his pants back at him, “You coming to the tomb?”

“Yeah,” he says, “if you want me to.”

“Of course,” I say, reaching for my lightsaber belt, “Where would I be without my protector?” I lean in and kiss him. I only meant for one, but then he kisses me again. And again, with his hand softly resting on my cheek, like he doesn’t want to let me go. And I don’t want to let him go, either. But if we don’t get moving, Jolee is going to come in again and that was weird enough yesterday before Carth and I had slept together. So I break first and pat his face. “Come on, hot stuff, get dressed.”

He pulls his shirt over his head with a smirk. “‘Hot stuff’? Not flyboy or… what is it Canderous called me once, ‘Captain Killjoy’?”

“You knew about Captain Killjoy?”

“Mission cannot keep a secret.”

“Well,” I say with a smile, “that was just Canderous’ nickname for you. No, with me you’ve unlocked a whole new suite of nicknames.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll just have to stick around and find out,” I smirk.

I make sure to grab my flashlight before we leave for the Academy again. Naga Sadow’s tomb must be pretty dangerous to be the final test, and I don’t want to add the inability to see ten feet in front of me to the dangers. I’ve also got some rope in my pack, and a knife. I know Uthar would want me to approach this like a Sith, and the Jedi would want me to approach this like, well, a Jedi, but I think it’s best if I approach it like a scout, like I’ve done a lot of things. Approach the space as a cave ecosystem, as well as a relic. A space with its own life and soul, welcoming me in. There is nothing inherently evil about a space. And I don’t give a damn about the Dark Side energy in there. I’m going to take it at face value. Respect the space, and do what I have to do within it.

Master Uthar is not standing in the central chamber of the Academy like he has been. Yuthura is. “Ah, good,” she says to me, “There you are. I take it you are ready to travel to the tomb of Naga Sadow? Our moment is finally at hand.” She’s clearly been waiting for a moment like this for some time. “Uthar is already waiting at the tomb for us.” She glances at Carth and Jolee. “Your slaves will have to remain here, however. You will face the test alone.”

Carth stiffens a bit, and his hand brushes his blaster. I look back at both of them. “When Uthar said ‘alone,’ I thought he meant no help from the Academy. I guess I misunderstood.”

“Part of being a Sith is relying on your own strength, not that of others,” she says, “We should leave now. Your final test should not be delayed.”

Wait. That’s not a good feeling. This… isn’t going to end well. Not even just Yuthura’s inevitable betrayal, it’s going to get worse than that. “I just need to do one thing.” She rolls her eyes a bit but doesn’t say anything. I turn to Carth. Jolee can probably already sense the exact same thing I can, but Carth has no idea. I need to tell him. And I need to tell him I’m coming back. I reach into my pocket for my droid tool kit and hand it to him. “Would you hold onto this for me?”

He takes it, confused. “This is your tool kit - you don’t think you’ll need it?”

“I think it’ll be better in your hands than mine right now. Just… don’t lose it, okay?”

“I promise.”

I hug him, and I have to stand on my toes to whisper in his ear. “Get to someplace defensible, this could get messy.” I feel him nod a bit. Message received. So I break and turn back to Yuthura. “I’m ready.”

“Then we go now.” She walks ahead of me past Carth and Jolee, who make their way back to the dormitories. Whether that’s where they’ll be when I get back or not, I know they’ll be safe when I do. “That human,” Yuthura says, referring to Carth, “you are… close with him?”

“Yeah,” I say, “More than close.”

“I see,” she says simply, “As your teacher, I would advise caution.” Don’t tell me the SIth are going to advise me against love, too - this is ridiculous. “He could use your affection to betray you.”

Oh, that? Ha, ha, that’s a joke. “He really doesn’t have it in him to betray anyone.”

“Only a fool would think that,” she says, “And you are no fool.” No, I’m not, but I know Carth. “It is only a matter of time before any slave betrays her master.”

Well, that’s an interesting way to phrase that. Because we were talking about Carth, and she just referred to a “her.” “Sounds like you speak from experience there.”

“I…” she says hesitantly, “… was a slave on Sleheyron, if you must know, to a cruel master, Omeesh the Hutt.”

“How did you get to be here, then?” I ask.

“You don’t need to know any more,” she snaps, “Why are you asking?”

“If I’m going to be your apprentice, I’d like to know more about you. And I’d like to be your friend.”

“I… see,” she says slowly, “Very well. I suppose there's no harm in the tale. The Hutts control everything on Sleheyron, and a slave is nothing to them. I was determined not to be 'nothing'.” Ugh, that could get ugly. “One night when the drunken worm had me alone in his chambers I stabbed him and escaped the compound. I stole onto a cargo ship and was not discovered by the crew until they reached the next system. They left me for dead on a desolate planetoid, alone… but that was fine by me. I was glad to be anywhere other than Sleheyron.”

“I can imagine.”

“It was not luck that I was eventually rescued, of course. The Force was strong with me, though I didn't know that at the time. Not until the Jedi told me, that is.”

“Neither did I,” I say, “I was constantly in touch with it for my work, but I had no idea that’s what it was until they told me. And it must have been something special for them to train me as an adult, though damned if they’ll tell me.”

“That was my tale as well - I was older than most Padawans, but they took me in and trained me anyway.”

“How far did you get?”

“I never progressed beyond Padawan,” she says, “I had discipline, but no peace… and after my treatment at the hands of the Hutts there was little room in me for the ways of the Jedi.” Yeah, I guess you have to heal your inner trauma before you can grow. Jesus, did I swallow another Jedi tome? “I wanted to use the Force to free the other slaves I knew, to fight for what I knew was right. The Jedi restrained me until I couldn't stand it anymore. They claim the dark side is evil, but that isn't so. Sometimes anger and hatred are deserved and right. Sometimes things change because of it.”

“I guess I agree with you there - how the Jedi can stand by and do nothing with all the suffering and injustice in the galaxy just boggles the mind - but… has anything changed?”

“No…” she says contemplatively, “… not yet. But my anger has not diminished, nor my desire to see change. The more time I spend with the Sith the more I am certain that one day I will be able to fight as I must.” She lets out a small chuckle. “I know this may sound strange, but only my compassion stands in my way, now. Once that is gone let the slavers beware.”

“But…” I say, because that doesn’t make any sense, “…if you lose your compassion, will you still care about those slaves?”

“I…” she starts to say, and then she changes gears. “…yes, of course. I mean losing my compassion as in… holding back…”

“Well, still,” I say, “it’s a commendable goal. I admire your spirit.”

“Thank you,” she says, “I only wish I was as strong with the Force as you are. You could change much yourself, if you wanted to.” But then she shakes her head. “But enough of that,” she says, “I’ve talked about myself too much. There will be time for more once Uthar is dead.” Even so it’s clear I’ve given her something to think about. A seed of doubt, maybe.

Naga Sadow’s tomb is on the left hand side of the Valley of the Dark Lords, in the back corner. It’s interesting that it doesn’t look all that different from the other three tombs. Don’t get me wrong, the thing is still massive and imposing, but on sight alone it’s not all that different from the other three. I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart on my own. Yuthura opens the tomb door and we both walk in. Uthar is standing in the entrance chamber. “Very well,” he says, “We are now ready for your final test, young Sith. You have earned the right to see if you shall become one of us.”

“Indeed you have,” Yuthura says.

Uthar looks at her curiously. “Is that a tone of mischief in your voice, dear Yuthura?” he asks rhetorically, “You should know by now that no scheme is certain.”

“As should you, my master,” she says, “But I was only agreeing with you.” God, the dramatic irony here is amazing. “Should we not get on with the test?”

“Yes,” Uthar says, “Yes, of course. We are in the sacred tomb of Naga Sadow, young one, the one discovered by Darth Malak and Darth Revan years ago.” They discovered it? Revan just continues to impress me with his attributes. I mean, first he knows enough about computer tech to gain access to the memory core of the Star Map on Kashyyyk, and now I learn he’s also a tomb crawler? Damn, this dude could have been my best friend. “You are to follow in their footsteps and reach the ancient Star Map that lies deep within. There you will find a lightsaber, amongst other things.” Because I don’t have enough of those. “The lightsaber is for you: your initiation present. Return to us once you have it, for you the test does not end there.”

“Be very cautious, here,” Yuthura says, “This tomb is like the others in this valley, and many of its old defenses remain active.”

“Do you understand what I have told you? Are you ready to begin?” Uthar asks.

“Can you give me any hints about what’s in here? Animals, anything?”

“No.” How unhelpful. “That is part of the test. Overcome the obstacles that lie ahead on your own.” I plan to, I just wanted a hint.

“Okay,” I sigh, “Find the Star Map, return with the lightsaber. Got it.”

“Good.” Uthar nods a little. “Yuthura and I will await your return.”

Hoo. Deep breath, Rena. Open the door. Out of the entry chamber. The door closes behind me. It’s just another cave. Just another cave. Look at it like one.

Evidence of large reptiles, judging by the skins they shed. Egg shells. I guess beyond once a year they can live their lives here like normal. No sign of tuk’ata. Maybe the reptiles prey on them? And why would a prey hang around a predator’s nesting site? Odds are there’s plenty of places in the tomb that people can’t get to. Plenty of places for a prey species to make its home. The hall opens into a much larger chamber, with three pathways, one on my left, one on my right, and one straight ahead. The right hand side has far more traces of the animals. In fact… I see two of them. They’re hulaks. And is that… they’re mothers. Both of them. Past them another rounds a corner, much bigger than the two of them. The pack male. The mothers snarl at me. But I am no threat to them. The only movement I make is to sit down on the floor. One of the babies starts to walk towards me, but its mother stops it. Understandable. I concentrate on them, just as I did the tuk’ata matriarch yesterday. I tell the mothers why I’m here. I am no threat to you or your young. I am not like those who have come before, seeking only power, eliminating anything in their way. I am not one of them. I will not disturb your nests, slaughter your young, or take your food. I respect your greater knowledge of this place. I will do what I have to do, and then I will leave you in peace. The mothers relax, and the pack male turns away again. They may not trust me, but they do believe me. They can tell I’m telling the truth.

But I’m not done yet. They know more about this place than I do. They can tell me what’s here. I seek a map. Of course they do not understand maps. They don’t need to. Why do you need to see your path when your nose and ears can tell you so much more? But I can show them what I seek. And they tell me, in more than words. Many have come seeking this stone. Not like any other stone. It glows. Many have come seeking it. Many have fed the pack. Many have killed mothers and children themselves. The stone lies on the path ahead, past a foul-smelling pit that has killed mine and ours. We do not approach the pit or the waters that burn within it. And I have one further question. What lies behind me, on the path that few of their kind have tread? Again, they tell me in more than words. Death lies along that path where our feet do not tread. A large beast and its mate. They consume mine and ours. A strike from their claws makes one sick, to suffer a slow and painful death. They have dwelled here longer than the pack. Many of your kind have attempted to slay the beasts. Only one spoke as you do, with mercy toward mine and ours, with kindness to the pack. Their flesh fed the beasts. They did not survive. But there is one mercy. The beasts are big, far bigger than mine and ours, and their size keeps them contained in the place of death. We do not die, for we do not approach. Your kind have fed the beasts. Mine and ours do not. And with that I let them leave. I don’t stand up until they round the corner, out of sight.

Again it was more than words that they told me. More like concepts and feelings, images. The Star Map, the stone that glows, lies to the south, ahead of me. But in between me and the map is a “foul-smelling pit with waters that burn.” And to my left, in the east, two predators. A mated pair? But only two of them? Or is mate more like friend? Or is the meaning less important than the fact that there are two of them? Obviously Shaela Nur came this way. I suspect she was the one who was kind to the pack. They had no images of her. So she would have been here before their lifetimes. But I know she was here. The description of the beasts sounds too much like a terentatek to be a coincidence. And two of them… well, that’s terrifying. Maybe I don’t have to go that way? But I’m not about to start hoping for shit again.

Let’s check out the direct path first. Water that burns is a lot less terrifying than two terentateks. So I go forward and open the door.

Whoa! They weren’t exaggerating about foul-smelling. I can only imagine how bad it is to a reptile’s amazing sense of smell. And the water that burns… would appear to be acid. Can I just jump across? Figure out my angles… No, ceiling’s too low. I don’t like my chances. And there’s nothing to hook my rope onto on the other end, even if I could reliably toss it over there. So much for the easy route. Maybe I could neutralize the acid? But I wouldn’t know how. How much water would it take to get the pH to neutral? And what chemical would that make? It could easily be just as dangerous, if not more so.

So I guess the thing to do is make it safe to cross. How to do that would depend on the acid. Making a rock bridge makes the most sense at the offset. But would the acid dissolve the rocks? I break out a chunk of the floor and kick it into the acid. It dissolves in a fit of bubbles. So that’s not a viable solution. I can’t cross it at the sides, the pool spans the whole floor, wall to wall. If I was stronger, Force-wise, I could probably make a path through by parting the pool down the middle, but I don’t think I could hold it on both sides long enough to get through. And I don’t want to push my luck.

Ugh, chemistry isn’t really my strong suit. All I needed to know was cells and cell chemistry. Acid is not my thing. But… hang on, it’s not a Sith thing either. No one at the Academy was talking about chemistry. The solution to this is probably dead simple, a brute force kind of deal. A grenade --? No, that’s a terrible idea, any explosion with fire would create toxic fumes, killing me instantly. But what about a cold explosion, like a cryoban grenade? It would take a fair few of them to freeze a pool this size, and I only have a couple on me. But I could make some if I can get the parts. I’m sure there’s lots of tech around here, left behind by failed test takers.

Unfortunately, that means I’ll have to go face the terentateks on my search for parts. Damn.

#star wars #knights of the old republic #autistic artist #fiction #kotor #kotor fic #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #revanasi #carth onasi #jolee bindo #yuthura ban #uthar wynn #korriban #chapter 96 #the good place

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