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nataliasquote · 2 months

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Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x female reader

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spectral-musette · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hope you’re feeling better :) Could you do some older Obi Wan and Satine in an AU where they both live, The Emperor doesn’t get away with his craziness and we just have a happy Obitine living out the rest of their lives? :’)

Hey Anon, we all love some happiness AU now and then.<3 I wasn't sure if you meant fic or art, so I did a little bit of both? (And by "older" i wasn't sure if you meant like "transforming into Alec Guinness" older, but the ficlet (~1500 words) ended up set just a few years after the end of the war.)

. . . . .

“So early?”

The sun hadn’t yet risen above the jagged Coruscant skyline, and the pink morning light softly illuminated the room as the city lights began to wink off. Satine pushed her hair out of her face to better observe the lovely man sitting up next to her in her bed, bare-chested and lightly freckled, his own hair charmingly disarrayed as well.

He bent, kissing her temple, his beard soft against her cheek.

“I promised Cin I’d lead a saber workshop this morning.”

Satine rolled onto her back, reaching up to smooth his hair as he straightened. “Then I shan’t try to entice you to stay. Since you gave your word.”

“Your very existence entices me to stay,” he countered, smiling a little. “Always.”

“Oh, very nice. Early morning flattery.”

“Genuine,” he protested, making a show of looking wounded.

“Always?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow at him. “That’s a bit difficult to swallow in light of your 15 year absence from my company.”

“Believe me, I was very enticed,” he promised, kissing her again.

“You might have to convince me. But later, I suppose.” She heaved a sigh.

“I can probably get away in time for a late brunch,” he offered.

She shook her head slightly, pushing herself up reluctantly from her comfortable nest of pillows. “Padme wants me in a meeting at midday.”

“And the Chancellor must be obeyed.”

“Well. This one, anyway,” Satine said, with a twist of a wry smile. She meant no offense to Padme’s direct predecessor in the office, the Prince of Alderaan, but, even all these years later, they all still lived in the shadow of what Palpatine had nearly done to the Republic.

“I’ll see you this evening, then.” He pulled his undertunic on over his head, and Satine smoothed his hair again.

“I suppose, compared to 15 years, that’s not so long to wait.”

“It will feel like an eternity, I assure you.” He gathered her into his arms.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to be late. And what will you tell all those impressionable padawans if they ask what kept you?”

“They wouldn’t dare. My dear Satine, our relationship is the absolute worst kept secret in the Jedi Temple.”

“Worse than Padme and Anakin’s?”

“At this point, I think so. The arrival of the twins rather disqualified them from ‘secret’ status.”

“How is the new training system working out?”

“What, letting the Skywalkers go home with their father at the end of the day? It certainly hasn’t seemed to impede their progress compared to their peers. A few other families are trying it as well. A couple from Lothal just brought their son to us on a similar schedule and will be living on Coruscant for a few years at least.”

“I’m looking forward to learning about the process in great and personal detail when we are also no longer able to maintain the pretense of secrecy.”

He hitched up her chemise, resting a hand against the large scar below her sternum, pale even in comparison to her fair skin. If it hadn’t been for her long recovery from the damage to her spine, the Skywalker twins might already have a playmate. As it was, it was only about a year since she’d been healthy enough to consider trying to conceive.

“As am I,” he promised, his touch tender as he settled his hands on her waist and kissed her forehead.

“It does seem strange to watch the Jedi Order bend,” she pointed out when he picked up his outer tunic from the floor. She wasn’t above goading him a little, now and then.

He shook his head, taking it serenely, as usual. “We do change. It usually takes a bit more time, but with our ranks so thinned by the casualties of the war, relaxing the requirements for initiates only makes sense.”

“And ignoring the amorous exploits of Jedi Knights so that they make more initiates?” She ran her fingertips lightly over his face, leaving a lingering touch on his mouth.

“We more or less always did that.” He kissed her hand.

“I recall being a bit more discreet in the past.”

“That was for your sake, not mine,” he pointed out. “I might’ve had some official censure for being indiscreet, but I expect most of my cohorts were more likely to congratulate me on having the good fortune of catching your eye.”

“Well, the Mandalorians couldn’t deny that you’re handsome and a fine warrior, but, indeed, the situation would’ve been rather disagreeable at home if we’d been exposed, at the time,” she agreed.

“Do you miss it?” he asked softly.

“What, the ugly, hateful rhetoric and death threats from Mandalorian extremists?”

He shook his head. “Home. Sundari. Mandalore.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “Bo is doing well, though. She’s wiser than she used to be. Sometimes I wonder if it shouldn’t have always been her on the throne.”

“She’s ruling what you rebuilt. Do you think there would’ve been anything left if it had always been her?”

“More flattery.”

“Also genuine.”

“I like that you think that, anyway,” she admitted. “Hadn’t you better go?” she asked, regretful.

“I could skip breakfast,” he offered, leaning in to kiss her neck.

“And go to teach while you’re hungry and cross? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she countered, giggling a little.

“I would not be cross,” he denied.

“Well, not at first. Anyway, I like that you suggested it, but you’d better not.”

“Actually,” he said, drawing back and giving her a twist of a smile. “There’s plenty of time. Workshop’s not till midmorning.”

“Then why all this pretense of getting dressed?” she demanded, indignant.

“One doesn’t like to assume. You might’ve wanted to go back to sleep.”

“My dear Obi-Wan, when have I ever preferred to go to back to sleep rather than…”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before he kissed her deeply.

. . . . .

(Evening...)

. . . . .

Satine wrapped her arms around his chest, nuzzling against him until he suddenly winced, breath hissing between his teeth.

“Old injury or new?” she asked, stepping back and looking him over critically.

“New. Nothing serious, I just think I overdid it at the saber workshop today.”

She circled him, running her hands over his shoulders.

“You’re all in knots,” she scolded. “Get your tunics off. Do you think you pulled something?”

He moved to oblige, flinching again. "I hope it's just a muscle cramp."

“Oh, let me.” She nudged his shoulder so that he turned to face her again, then ran her hands along the familiar lines of his tabard down to his waist, working at the fastening of his belt. “I don’t see why you didn’t go see the Healers.”

“It only just started to really trouble me.”

“Is that entirely honest?”

“You mean, I didn’t want to give some young upstart the satisfaction of saying he’d sent Master Kenobi to see the Healers? You think I’m that vain?” he asked, as she proceeded with divesting him of his tunics. He could afford a little vanity, she reflected, admiring the graceful lines of musculature of his lean form and leaning to plant a light kiss between his collar bones.

“I think you are… mindful of your reputation.” She couldn’t help smiling a little.

He snorted softly. “Perhaps I am … a little vain.”

“So who can I blame for this injury?”

“Me. Showing off,” he confessed. “I could’ve just held my ground, but I gave it a little flourish to make it a good show. I ought to have known I was getting too old for that sort of thing.”

“And did you win?”

“This time.”

“I understand that you enjoy teaching these workshops, but I don’t see why it has end up in an all out duel against opponents half your age.” She pulled him down to the bed with her, running her hands over his back carefully to gauge the sore spots.

“Is that meant to suggest that they have the unfair advantage or I do?” He rolled his shoulders under her touch as she started the massage.

“I’m sure both are true, in different ways.”

“Very diplomatic,” he assured her. “I suppose they want to test their mettle. I know I did, at their age.”

“And did you challenge the reigning swordmasters?”

“Certainly. And got soundly trounced for my trouble.”

“And now it is your duty to do the trouncing?"

“It is.”

“Can’t you leave it to Anakin?”

“Anakin does his share.”

“So who was it that almost beat you?”

“Young Dume. Depa’s apprentice.”

“Yes, I met him when he escorted Senator Syndulla’s daughter to the Chancellor’s office. He seemed like a sweet boy, I suppose I can forgive him.”

“Don’t be so quick to pardon. One of these days, he’ll win. Or Suduri will, or half a dozen others.”

“And then will you go see the Healers?”

“Why would I need to, when I can get such fine care here?”

She shook her head even as she smiled, leaning down to kiss the back of his neck.

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Obi Wan/Satine #obitine #Star Wars AU #Happiness AU #Star Wars art #my art #pencil sketches #I wrote a thing #the art is a bit repetitive bleh sorry I know I've drawn this before #and maybe better?#ah well #long post

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masterweaverx · 3 years

Text

RWBY Parents from Best to Worst

That’s right, everybody, I’m a-going to rank how terrible these people are to and for their kids! For the sake of covering as many parents as I can, I am defining ‘parent’ as either ‘legal guardian’ or ‘the one that gave birth to you’, and excluding relationships that are explicitly something else. That does mean that we’re going to miss out on some very important people, though, so before we begin, let’s have some Honorable Mentions!

Yang Xiao Long and Winter Schnee: Professional Momsisters

“That’s why big sisters come first, to protect the ones that come after.” I don’t know who said that to these two, if anybody actually did, but it’s a quote that most definitely applies to them. Not only would they take a bullet (or a sword, or a fireball) for their younger siblings, they took the time out to give them affection and training that they needed when their own parents weren’t quite doing the job. If I absolutely had to rank one of them as the better momsister, I’d say Yang, but that’s really only because Yang had less to deal with overall; a depressed single dad not being able to pull himself together just doesn’t stack up with an abusive powermonger, a self-loathing drunkard, and all the institutional bigotry and pressure of Atlas. Plus, you know, Winter went into the military for a bit. Still, pretty good track record considering!

Klein Sieben: Doing the work of seven good dads

Look, there is only one reason Klein wasn’t listed before the momsisters, and that reason is that he is technically the hired help (and could therefore become the fired help). He is, hands down, a better surrogate parent than Yang and Winter, providing guidance and care to all the Schneeblings and very effectively undoing the damage Jacques Gele (HE DOES NOT GET TO BE CALLED SCHNEE!) did to them. And he even helped out Willow! If he was allowed to do more, he would absolutely be My Real Dad of the year.

Qrow Branwen: “The only one that gets to be sad in this house is me!”

Qrow has a lot of flaws. Like, so so many flaws. As Yang said in a noncanon spinoff, he’s cool but not exactly a role model. Thing is, you don’t have to be a role model to be a good parent--you just have to make sure your kids (or nieces in this case) get good advice and the opportunity to grow into the best versions of themselves they can be. And when Qrow’s not beating himself up or drowning his sorrows, he’s actually very good at helping Yang and Ruby. Honestly the only reason he’s not on the actual list is because he’s technically not a parent.

Uncle Copper: Adopting a blind kid automatically makes you cool

So here we have a character that appeared in a single flashback in the novels, but from what we do know he was pretty likely to be a good guy. Like, raising a blind kid is hard enough; raising a blind kid in a desert after their actual parents got nommed by sand is so, so much more difficult. And yet, this guy said ‘If nobody else is going to adopt this kid I will!’ and by all measures he was a very caring and loving guy. Also, shout-out to the tribe, who took Fox in after Copper got killed by some maniac (and also killed said maniac). Fox has had a rough life, but it’s been filled with supportive people. Not everyone can say that.

Starr Sanzang: She put up with Sun

Sure, she’s only had one scene in one novel, but Starr showed patience and caring and... probably did a lot to make sure Sun stays as aggressively cheery and patient as he is. Plus she’s got a dojo in Vacuo now... okay, I’ll be honest, I don’t know nearly enough about her to really assess her. Still, as far as cousins go, Sun Wukong could do a lot worse. And there are the implications of their motifs to factor in...

Rhodes: If you’d done even just a little bit more--!

So, reasonably, what would you do when you see a little girl enslaved with a shock collar? Would you (A) get the girl out of there, (B) arrest the woman doing it, (C) try to get the girl therapy, or (D) all of the above? If you picked (E) secretly train the girl in swordplay so she can join a huntsman academy when she comes of age, then congratulations! You’ve given her hope! Good for you! And what if she snaps after five years of literal torture, kills her abuser, and then turns to you for comfort and/or approval? Welp, obviously she’s an irredeemable criminal and you have to bring her in, crushing all the faith she had in you and herself.

Seriously Rhodes, dropped the ball hard on that one. I’m only mentioning you because you had such a serious impact on Cinder’s development.

Brother Gods: Creating and destroying entire species

Like, okay. Look. These are the two that made humanity, so an argument could be made that they’re humanity’s parents. But, by the strict and arbitrary rules I have selected, they aren’t parents. And even if they were, they would be just the worst sort of parents possible. Darkbro is bad enough, what with viewing only strength as valuable and creating the Grimm and, you know, annihilating humanity that one time, but he’s at least honest and honorable. Not like the cryptic Lightbro, who doesn’t bother making sure people understand him, who doesn’t even keep his own promises to his brother... I get that they’re basically overpowered children. Yeah, they are. Still... kinda terrible.

So, now that that’s all done, let’s get to the actual list! After the break, so you don’t get stuck scrolling a lot. RWBY parents, from best to worst, are as follows:

23. Saphron and Terra Cotta-Arc: Two moms are better than none!

If I’m rating all the parents, and I am, then I have to acknowledge their flaws. And... these two don’t have any! Okay, fine, they used Adrian in a criminal scheme that one time (and that was literally just asking him to cry on command) and maybe Terra’s overworked and, to be fair, parenting a young kid is a lot different than parenting a teenager. But not only did they support their kid, they helped out all the kids that needed to room with them for a while! Saphron may also qualify as a momsister, depending on how well the Arcs managed their massive-numbered horde of kids. Look, the point is: Excellent parents. Bam.

22. Yatsuhashi's Parents: Their slipups weren’t their fault

When your kid can wipe your memories and you don’t know about it, you’re bound to get a few mistakes down the line. Luckily for everyone, after the whole incident with Hiyoko Yatsu came clean, and his parents made absolutely sure that he understood (A) that having such an ability was a big responsibility and (B) that even though he really screwed up he was NOT evil. Given the man that Yatsuhashi is now, I’m pretty confident in calling them great parents--even if they only appeared in a book flashback.

21. Coco's Dad: He exists!

That’s... honestly all I really know about him. He’s mentioned once in the books, and Coco has a few brothers. I’m kind of just assuming he’s a good parent from that, even if he didn’t figure out how to help Coco with her claustrophobia. So... yeah, shrug, Coco’s got a dad.

20: Ghira and Kali Belladonna: Actually marvelous people

Loving. Caring. Mentoring, protective. You may be asking why these two aren’t lower on the list, given that they are absolutely great for Blake, and I’ll have to admit that they only really made one slipup--letting Adam talk with Blake.

And okay, look. The thing about people like Adam is that they don’t start out showing their true colors. It’s always a slow, gentle broil. Blake was young and stupid, Adam was cute and edgy, and these parents want their daughter to be happy. So not twigging on what Adam really was--or at least not being able to properly convince Blake--that’s entirely understandable. And they did instill her with a strong enough moral code to leave when enough was enough, and they absolutely welcomed her back with open arms. Frankly, if the lower-listing parents didn’t exist, I would happily say they are the best parents in the show.

19. Pietro Polendina: He took Penny’s death flags

When you carve out part of your literal soul to bring your girl back from the dead, you get MAJOR parenting props. And even beyond that, Pietro is an absolutely caring and supportive father to everyone’s favorite bundle of sunshine. Even when she’s put in the rough position she was in, Pietro did his best to help her out. His one big flaw, though, is being overprotective and a bit presumptive. He does want Penny to live her best life, but he also can be just a touch too quick to say he knows what’s best for her. To his credit, when he’s called out on it, he does mend his ways. And he’s at least better then the GENERAL...

18. Salem and Ozma: Good parents, surprisingly!

Sure, Salem decided that world conquest was a good idea and wanted to put down anybody that wasn’t directly from her bloodline. Sure, she psychologically manipulated her husband when he had doubts. And, being fair, it’s highly likely that her four daughters were killed in the crossfire of her and Ozma’s little tuff. But! That was likely an accident, she’s been shown to still clearly mourn their passing, and before that point she absolutely loved and adored the girls. Ozma gets points for being a generally good person who fell in love with her before she became unstable and, honestly, was just trying to help his girls escape... and hey, he blames himself for their deaths. As does Salem.

Just because they’re kind of directly responsible for a LOT of Remnant’s woes doesn’t mean they aren’t good parents!

17. Will and Meg Scarlatina: Estranged but loving...

Yes, I know Rooster Teeth hasn’t officially confirmed that Bill is Will. I still believe though! Also it makes for a great picture, in any case.

Look, you can be the best and most loving parents ever--and from what we saw in the novels Will was definitely loving--but if you split up, your kid is going to get a little stressed. And hey, it’s not like these two were terrible people! Velvet’s just got a lot going on because of things entirely out of her control. Parents are people too, but sometimes the stress of one situation will leak out into another. Just... give people time to adapt.

16. Nicholas Schnee: The man, the legend, the titan!

Nicholas Schnee is the rockstar success story of Remnant. Some guy from Mantle put in all the work to make the SDC, and honestly from what little we know about him he was probably a great guy! But if we’re registering parental goodness, well... he wasn’t quite smart enough to warn Willow away from abusive gold diggers, and he’s not present when the story starts. So, yeah, even if he was a good parent otherwise--and I think he would be--he kinda... didn’t put in the work to prevent Willow breaking later. Still. Not deliberately terrible!

15. Li and An Ren: Don’t die in front of your kids, folks!

Seriously, it traumatizes them, especially if there’s a Grimm assault going on at the same time. Oh, double-especially if you reassure them that everything will be fine literally the second before the roof collapses on your head. And... well, okay, you couldn’t help your son and some random girl being the only survivors...

In all seriousness, that whole situation was absolutely out of their control. And before their deaths they were shown to be loving, wise, giving good advice to Lie Ren and helping him understand what the right thing to do was. Honestly, if they hadn’t died in front of him he’d be a lot better, mentally speaking. His trauma is not their fault. Plus Li went out distracting the big Grimm so Lie could run. No greater love hath man, indeed.

14. Summer Rose: Loving mother, ticking trauma bomb

When she was around, Summer Rose was probably the best mom Yang and Ruby could ask for. Sure, everyone could be exaggerating a little on how great a person she was--fond memories and grief can do that--but even taking that into account, she was probably a great and wonderful woman to be raised by. And hey, it turns out the reason she vanished was to go confront basically the Devil Herself so her kids wouldn’t have to live in a world where she existed! I can totally get the logic behind that.

And to be fair, “I’m going to do this on my own so nobody else suffers” is a pretty common character flaw among the RWBY cast. There are entire arcs where each character learns to overcome it. Still, wandering off on your lonesome without telling anyone was not the smartest move, Summer. Especially if you expected to die--which, you know, Devil Herself, high probability. And you know, if you had died, that would be bad enough, but now Ruby’s practically certain to have to fight your grimmified self. At least she figured out what happened to you before Salem decided to hammer in the trauma button, so she’ll be a little more ready, but... seriously.

13. The Arc Parents: Look, you try juggling eight kids!

To be fair, neither Arc parent has appeared on screen, but we can derive some of their traits from their kids. Jaune’s father said women like confident men. Jaune’s mother said strangers are friends you haven’t met yet. Jaune’s sister moved out of the house and (it’s implied) was happier for it. Jaune himself took his family’s ancestral weapon and ran off to Beacon to become a hero without any training whatsoever....

I get the impression that these two are not horrible parents, but they aren’t really stellar ones either. They slip up, don’t understand their children, give some really bad advice (as well as really good advice), and... look, it’s kind of middle of the road here. The Arcs could be wonderful people that just weren’t ready for the complexities of raising eight kids. I come from a big family myself, I know it can be stressful. And their kids turned out well anyway, so...

12. The Mother of Pyrrha Nikos: You taught your girl too well

Hero complexes are funny things. And Pyrrha Nikos... in retrospect, she was really hiding a lot of insecurities under that facade. Laying it all at this woman’s feet is unfair, I’ll admit, a lot of that came from being The Mistral Champion. But... with stories and fairy tales of heroes, it’s not hard to imagine a genuinely loving mother making sure her daughter knew right from wrong, always knew to act with mercy and protect the weak, and made her hardline into being a hero at the cost of her own... sense of self. It wouldn’t even be something either of them noticed, really. Good people can make bad choices sometimes.

11: Ilia's Parents: Oh god, can good people make bad choices...

So the idea of getting Ilia up to Atlas for a better life, that rocks (if you assume the propaganda to be true). And I’m certain her parents absolutely did what they did out of love. But what they did, you see, was tell Ilia to hide a very important part of herself from anybody who could find out, since it was likely she would be kicked out of the school she was in if people found out she was a faunus.

Which actually, did a lot of damage.

I mean look at Ilia now! She has trouble expressing herself until she explodes, she follows a crowd instead of her own morals, she broke down in tears when she finally did the right thing... Conceal Don’t Feel is never good advice, and these two went on and said ‘Honey, because of racism, you have to hide the fact you literally change color when you have emotions.’ Oh, and then they died offscreen--again, not their fault, but boy howdy did it give Ilia a complex.

10. Taiyang Xiao Long: Slumped at just the wrong time

Honestly, Tai as he is now is a wonderful dad. Supportive of his daughters in their time of need, able to lift their mood with a tasteless joke or two, frankly if we were assessing just how they were in the moment... I’d still be a little critical of his refusal to talk about the girls’ mothers, but hey, that’s minor. Compared to, you know...

Okay, so this needs serious addressing. Taiyang cannot be blamed for falling into a depressive slump. People can hurt, and need time to heal. That said, his depressive slump is at the root of Yang’s many issues, and frankly if she hadn’t had to pull herself together for Ruby she would be a major mess. It’s a bad situation all round, even if it’s not his fault.

9. Willow Schnee: “Kids, don’t wind up like me.”

Drowning her sorrows isn’t the best way to handle being stuck in an abusive marriage, but it was the best way Willow could think of. And, yeah, that really cut into her skills as a mom... but despite that, she did her darnedest to make sure her kids had what they needed to free themselves. Heck, once Jacques was out of the picture, she even pulled herself together and risked her life to save them! A broken women, to be sure, but not a shattered one.

8. Neptune's Mother: She exists!

Being fair, there’s not a lot to go on here. We know Neptune’s mother is a lawyer (insert evil lawyer joke), that their family are famous swimmers, and that his brother caused his hydrophobia by tossing him into the water. It does paint a bit of a picture, though, of everyone having expectations for Neptune that he was not able to live up to. Pretty poor parenting, if it’s true.

7. Nora Valkyrie's Mom: Come get your girl!

Literally the only factoid we have about Mama Valkyrie is that she abandoned her to the Grimm. We don’t know when this was, and it’s feasible it’s a case of ‘Oh No I Lost Track Of My Daughter In The Panic!’ But given we see young Nora scavenging for scraps of food... I’m not optimistic on her parenting skills.

6. Raven Branwen: "I wasn’t part of your life, how could I ruin it?”

Raven is just not a good mom at all. And, surprisingly, she seems to know it. Or that’s one interpretation of her character. The thing about Raven is that she plays her cards close to chest. We still don’t know why she left her daughter, and we only have inklings about the reasoning behind her behavior once they reunited. In the end, though... she did concede to Yang, she did apologize for something, and there’s a very deliberate indication that a lot of her behavior is a mask to both others and herself. So, terrible mother, for the moment, but self-aware.

5. Salem's Father: Explicitly noted as cruel

We get a bit more about Salem’s father from ‘Fairy Tales Of Remnant’, how he became possessive of the last remnant of his wife and locked her away in a tower. From what we know of him, that’s all he did--lock her away and not let her go. Still makes him a terrible dad. And with this, we transition firmly into the most definitively abusive parent figures. Everyone before this might have the excuse of not realizing what was going on or having their own damage, but now we’ve got parents actively deciding to make their kids’ lives worse.

4. Jacques Gelé: HE DOES NOT GET TO BE CALLED SCHNEE!

His children are property, to be manipulated and traded for the benefit of the company he married into, and any defiance is to be quelled instantly. He is manipulative, scheming, abusive, and frankly the worst sort of scumbag to ever wear a white suit. He does have the single redeeming quality of only leaning into the punishment if it benefits him; nobody would ever accuse the man of being needlessly cruel. His name is Jacques, and you will hate him... especially on the rare occasions he actually has a point.

3. The Marigolds: There’s no peppy tagline, they’re just mean

There’s not a picture of these jerks on the wiki, so you’ll have to make do with the woman that is no longer their daughter. See all that empty space around her? That’s about as close as they ever got. May spells out how much they hated her for having a heart, and how little they cared about her as a person, in one epic line. And even if they have other redeeming qualities (unlikely) we can tell they’d probably still be terrible parents because of how sleazy May’s cousin is. Honestly, for once I’m glad some characters don’t get pictures. They don’t deserve to be remembered. They aren’t even the cool kind of evil, they’re just... gross.

2. Marcus Black: Look if you train your kid to be a killer...

...you’re going to have to expect them to kill you. I mean, you basically ripped apart Mercury’s legs, man. He had to get cyberlegs. Also, you used your semblance to steal his. Which, given that semblances come from aura, and that aura is a manifestation of the soul, is kinda... that’s a deeply personal and intimate violation. Sure, you got your assassin kid. And can we talk about the fact that Marcus was an assassin? It’s not a pretty job. I guess I can see all the abuse--physical and mental--as a good way to train up another assassin, but... geeze, if that’s your goal, why did you use your own kid?! Why not hire some angsty teenager?! Yeah, no, Markus Black stood high on my list of parental monsters... and was only toppled by the arrival of one other.

1. Madame of the Glass Unicorn: She only appeared in one episode and she rocketed to the top of this list, that should tell you something

Let’s be clear here: What Madame did to Cinder is bad enough. It was literally slavery. Enforced by a shock collar. And because the collar looked like a necklace, she pulled it off in front of I don’t know how many clients. Granted, said clients were racists, why else would they be customers at a ‘We Do Not Serve Faunus’ hotel, but keeping her torture just out of the public eye very clearly shows both that she knew what she was doing was illegal and that she was clever enough to avoid detection.

Oh... and then there are her birth daughters.

With Cinder, she was abusive to a dangerous degree. With her daughters, she was permissive, not only allowing but encouraging them to bully their adoptive sister. The whole point of parenthood is to teach your children how to become the best version of themselves, but Madame didn’t even bother to instill a semblance of morality in these girls. She used them as extensions of her will, and they obliviously played along because that was all they knew.

You’d think the biggest monster on the show would be the Grimm woman, but no--it’s some random lady with a hotel.

#RWBY #Analysis #Ranking #I had the urge to make this #Feel free to disagree #Some of this is opinion-based

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lokigayforhela · 3 years

Note

Can u do a Hela x fem!reader where Hela come backs and sees reader about to be killed by one of the asgardians because of her trying to help Hela. Hela saves her and they rule all of Asgard!

WC: 2793

TW: TW for mention of and description of wounds from torture, brief depictions of gore and violence, and technically character death, though there is no real attention drawn to it

A/N: Consider this an au in which Hela breaks out of her imprisonment much sooner than anyone expected, and naturally… it isn’t so pretty. Please enjoy~

The crash back down to Asgard jarred Hela far more than shecared to admit, her rather rough connection with the ground beneath knockingthe wind out of her as she pushed herself to her hands, trying to gain herbearings as quickly as possible.

Breaking herself out of her imprisonment had been no simpletask. Odin had placed a number of binding spells over not only her, but on Hel,as well. It had taken much of her strength and magic to break free of them, andshe’d been weakened a fair deal, as it was, from being away from Asgard as longas she had. It had taken every ounce of energy she’d been saving to find eachloophole in every spell in order so that she could successfully break through,and the task of physical getting toAsgard itself had used the last little bit of it.

But the good thing about being back on Asgard meant that herpower was replenishing, and she knew that the longer she was able to staythere, the more her power would grow, and soon she would be unstoppable again,even more so than before Odin had imprisoned her. After all, she’d had morethan her fair share of idle time to hone and train her skills. She could dothings not even Odin himself could do, and she had every intention of provingit.

But the foremost thought at the front of her mind was you.

She remembered how you had looked, the night she had beensent spiraling to Hel through the portal Odin had made. Remembered the guardsholding you back, remembered the wounds you had sported, no doubt given to youonce they had figured out that you were aiding Hela in her attempts to massacrethe guards and the Valkyrie, and seize the throne for herself.

She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

Long before she had even thought of taking the throne forherself, before it had even become an idea in her mind, before things had goneso sour, Hela had reveled in stolen moments with you, enjoying your company inhidden trysts in the garden, or secret little meetings between bookshelves inthe libraries late at night. Any time she could have with you, she wanted,everyone else be damned.

It had been during one of those nights together that Helahad used a spell to bind you together. A lovingly murmured incantation, and youhad been connected in a way that not many were. You could feel each other’spresence when apart, could tell where the other was without having to search,like a map you didn’t have to read. The feeling had gone away, once Hela hadbeen banned to Hel, and she assumed the same would have been said for you, butnow that she was back, she could feel it again, though it had grown weak, amere shadow of the strong sensation she had always felt from you.

She knew she had to move quickly.

She navigated her way through the streets of Asgard easily,as though nothing had changed in her presence, and to be truthful, little had.She wasn’t sure just how long she had been away, the days had always meldedinto the next, like an endless time loop she had been stuck in with nothing buther own thoughts for company, and so she knew it could have been weeks ormonths or even years since she had been on Asgard.

And those were weeks or months or years that the guardswould have had you in captivity, no doubt torturing you to try and get anydetails out of you. She doubted they would have had any use out of anythingthey might have gotten from you, as she had been imprisoned, and that had beenthat on the matter, but she knew how the guards had been trained.

She knew how shehad trained them.

She didn’t have much time.

With little care for stealthiness, she marched straight downthe path that led right to the palace, aware of all the eyes on her and thewhispers surrounding her. She wouldn’t have much time before Odin was alertedto her presence, and to be honest, she didn’t care. She would burn the cityover tenfold, if that was what it took to get you back in her arms.

By the time she’d reached the palace gates, there were anumber of guards at the ready. She recognized some, trainees that had madetheir way up the ranks in her absence, but most of them were entirely newblood.

She couldn’t help the smirk that spread across her face.

This would be almost tooeasy.

With minimal effort, and only a few waves of her hands, she’dsent a shower of swords across the palace courtyard, each razor-sharp bladelodging itself in the hearts of their mark, until the cobblestone of thewalkway had turned crimson beneath her feet, and she was left to continue towalk in an eerie silence.

Once she entered the palace, she found herself faced with adecision.

On one hand, if she went straight to you, she could ensureyour safety much more easily, but would have to have you along with her as shemurdered her way to the throne. But if she hunted Odin down first, she riskedhim commanding the guards to kill you, if you were still alive.

Unwilling to take that risk, she closed her eyes, reachingout with her magic to feel where exactly you were located in the nearbyprisons. The closer she got, the stronger she could feel you, but she was stillunnerved that the connection had grown so weak, and so with haste, she made herway to the dungeons, cutting down any and all who crossed her path, be theyguards or maids, caring little for how much blood she shed in her attempts tofind you, until finally, she was outside the cell they had you in.

Necrosword clasped tightly in hand, she took in the sight ofyou, dressed in tattered and worn clothing, far too large for your small frame.You’d been shackled from wrist to wrist, with just enough slack for you to bechained with your hands above you on the wall. Your face was pale, and shecould see bruises scattered like macabre freckles across your face, trailingbelow the collar of your shirt, and who knew where else on your body. You haddark circles under your eyes, and you looked like it had been days since you’dseen a proper meal. You hardly had the strength to keep yourself upright, allof your weight sagging against the cuffs around your wrists, which surely hadbeen rubbed raw already from the friction.

That alone would have been enough to have Hela’s bloodboiling. And then she noticed the guard in the cell with you, in the process ofwiping a blade clean on his tunic, and it was then that she noticed the trailof blood coming from somewhere under the hem of your shirt, staining the fabricof your pants as it dripped down from wherever you’d been stabbed.

“The other guards are cowards. Too uneasy at the thought ofkilling a woman. But there’s nothing of use that we could get out of youanymore, anyway, and we’ve had our fun with you, anyway.” The guard spoke in aslow, easy tone, clearly relaxed and assuming he had nothing to worry about. Helawatched in hard silence, as he took a step forward, raising your chin with afinger as he inspected you.

“Any last words, traitor?”

He was watching you closely, waiting for your response, butyou were not looking at him. You were looking past him, as Hela stepped out of the shadows and toward the barrierof the cell, a look of fury across her features, the likes of which you’d neverknown a person could be capable of.

“…Hela…”

The guard only laughed at your weakly-murmured response. “Yes,yes, we’ve been over this, all you want is Hela. Anything else?”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

Hela’s voice echoed harshly in the silence of the dungeons,and you watched the guard tense up. You assumed it was out of fear, but when hestumbled backwards a bit, it was then that you noticed the sword Hela had sent straightthrough the barrier and through his chest.

All you could do was blink as he fell, and by the time youtore your stunned gaze away from him, Hela had used magic to disintegrate thebarrier entirely, and was rushing into the cell, already working at the chainsbinding you.

“You’re okay, Y/N. You’re okay. I’ve got you now.”

Hela worked quickly, and in less than a minute, she’d gottenyou unchained and had pulled you into your arms, sinking to the ground as shetook on the full weight of you with ease, cradling you in her lap. You weren’tsure if you wanted to laugh or to cry, so instead you did both, still notentirely sure that what you were seeing was real.

“…is it really you…?” you murmured, voice rough and raw asyou looked up at her, praying to the Norns that she wasn’t a figment of yourimagination or only there to escort you to the afterlife.

“It’s me, my love. I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so longto get back to you.” She kissed you gently, then, like she needed to prove toyou that she was real, or perhaps prove to herself that she was really therewith you, and you melted into the kiss immediately, bringing a tired hand up tocup her face when you drew back.

“…I thought I’d never see you again…”

“I know, my love. I know. But listen, we have to get you outof here. I’ll get you all fixed up, I promise, but there’s… there’s something Ihave to do first.”

You had a feeling you knew what she meant to do, and youwere in no position to try to argue with her or change her mind, so you onlynodded, and let Hela help you to your feet, hooking your arm over her shoulderas she wrapped an arm around your waist and led you back out of the cell and upthe staircase that would lead right into the palace.

You could hear shouts and panicked talking all around you,and you worried that Hela was going to get caught or ambushed, and that all ofthis would have been for naught, but anyone that dared to come your way was metwith a quick and brutal death by Hela’s hand, and you did your best not tothink about it.

It wasn’t until you’d reached the throne room that Helaslowed to a stop, tucking you in a hidden little alcove just outside the doors,where you knew you’d be unseen by anyone around.

“…this next part isn’t going to be pretty,” Hela admitted,and you could see the bloodlust in her eyes already.

“I know.” You winced as Hela leaned you against a marblecolumn, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be, and you fought theoverwhelming urge to close your eyes and drift off to sleep. “…do what you haveto do.”

Hela nodded, and kissed your forehead gently, taking yourhand in hers. “I won’t be long.”

You watched as Hela disappeared around the corner,exhaustion washing over you in waves too strong for you to keep ignoring. Yourvision faded to black just as the screaming started.

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

You came to in a dim room, blinking the sleep from your eyesas you tried to clear your mind a little more. Before you even had the chanceto sit up, you felt a gentle hand on your chest, stopping you from moving.

“Don’t strain yourself, my darling, you’re still healing.”

Hela’s soft voice soothed you in a way you didn’t know youneeded to be soothed, and you reached a hand for her blindly, smiling softlywhen she leaned over you so you could see her face.

“…how long was I out?” you murmured through a yawn, slowlybecoming aware of the dull pain in your side.

“Only a few days. Your bruises are almost gone, but that wasa rather nasty stab you earned yourself on your side. It’ll take a little whilelonger for that to heal, even if I keep using magic.”

You nodded a bit, and brushed your fingertips along her jaw,like a small little reminder to yourself that Hela was actually there with you.

Hela smiled softly, but it faltered a bit as she looked atyou, like she was uncertain about how to word what she needed to say next. “Y/N,are there any other wounds I need to know about? The guards, did they… theydidn’t try anything, did they?”

“Oh, they tried. But I had a good teacher, you know?Eventually they got smart enough to stop trying.”

Hela grinned, and kissed your forehead gently. “That’s mygirl.”

You hummed softly, and for a long while, the two of yousettled into a comfortable silence. You were almost loathe to break it, but youhad your own questions that you needed answered, and you looked up at Hela whenyou finally spoke.

“…Odin?”

“It’s just us now.” Hela answered definitively, leaving youwith no doubt what had transpired after you had passed out. “I am Queen, andyou will be Queen beside me, just as we always talked about.”

You nodded, and smiled a little weakly, glad that you couldget away with it, given your current state of injury. It wasn’t that you didn’tlook forward to ruling with Hela. You’d always wanted nothing but her. You justweren’t sure you agreed with her path of action, despite how much you hadalways been willing to help her to get what she needed.

If Hela suspected any hesitation from you, she didn’t showit, and only leaned down to kiss your forehead gently. “The coronation will bein two days’ time. You’ll be well enough to stand with me by then, I’ll be sureof it. And the wedding will come whenever you’re ready.”

A wedding, you had to admit, did sound much more likesomething you could look forward to without guilt, and you smiled gently,nodding as you looked up at her.

“I was always ready. Back then. Now. Sometimes I feel asthough we’ve been married for our entire lives together already.”

“Well, now we’ll be able to be married in title, too. And allof Asgard and the Nine Realms will see our bond and know that it is true.”

The very idea was enough to soothe over the doubts you feltabout Hela’s actions, at least enough for you to push them to the back of yourmind for now, and you smiled, pulling Hela down so you could kiss her sweetly.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered once you had parted,leaning your forehead against hers and closing your eyes, just reveling in thefeeling of being with her again, after so long without.

“I thought about you every second of every day.” Hela spokesoftly, in a tone that was strictly reserved for you, and she shifted to laydown next to you, turning over on her side and loosely draping an arm over yourwaist, pulling you closer while being mindful of your wound. “I asked the Nornsfor strength every day, so that I might find a way to break free and get backto you. I’m so glad I wasn’t too late.”

You hummed softly, nuzzling your nose against her cheek asyou turned your head to look at her better, and you couldn’t help the flutterin your very soul when you saw the way Hela was looking at you, like you werethe very reason that the sun rose every morning.

“…I love you.”

Hela kissed you again, cupping your face and brushing herthumb along the curve of your cheek, lingering once she drew back so that shecould keep looking at you. “I love you, too. I’ll never leave your side again.We’ll be together for the rest of eternity. Just the two of us, I swear to you.”

She kissed you again, and you settled more comfortably, allowingyourself to doze off as Hela continued to cuddle you close, gentle voicelulling you back to sleep.

“I swear it.”

#Hela x reader #Hela Odinsdottir x reader #Hela #Hela Odinsdottir #Marvel #oneshot #mine #natashalance #ask #answered #thank you for the prompt #this is a monster of a prompt fill i apologize #it got a bit out of hand

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

Text

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 275 “Tokyo Love Story”

So we’ve a new chapter and I’ve discovered…

Yeah, the fake Yuusaku theory turned out right and wrong at the same time as we’ve someone posing as Yuusaku… but it’s definitely not how I was expecting things to be.

But whatever, let’s start.

We’re in Kanagawa, in 1901. The scene is placed after the one in chap 35, when Toraji and Sugimoto fight the night of Toraji’s marriage, because Toraji is afraid Sugimoto came back to snatch Umeko away from him.

Since Sugimoto’s father died in 1899 according to the official timeline, this confirms Sugimoto waited 2 years before coming back to his village.

Evidently the two have calmed down because they aren’t fighting anymore and Toraji is asking Sugimoto where will he do now. Sugimoto informs him his father told him to search for a place he can be happy. You might not remember this bit being included in chap 236 because it was a volume addition.

Sugimoto says he wants to go to Tokyo, since up until now he was in places with few people, which makes sense since he feared he was infected with tuberculosis.

In the Q&A section from the Golden Kamuy fan book it was said:

Q8: What did Sugimoto do in the 2 years between leaving the village after burning his house and coming back to Ume’s wedding? Noda: He travelled to places such as Tokyo and Kyoto. [translation here]

But it’s likely Noda means Sugimoto didn’t stay in the big cities, but in the areas around them.

So okay, we move to Tokyo and after getting a glimpse of Sugimoto moving overly excited through the city playing ‘singing in the rain’...

...we see him being involved in a fight with more than 10 candidate officers.

Kikuta is called in to stop the fight. Evidently they forced him to interrupt his meal as he is still holding chopsticks and a bowl of rice.

We learn from the info box that Kikuta, full name Kikuta Mokutarou, was at the time a Sergeant in the 1st division (which tells us in his future he was promoted and transferred in another division, the 7th in fact in 1902 he’s working for Tsurumi during the Koito kidnapping), in charge of instructing and providing guidance to the officer candidate students enrolled at the Imperial Japanese Army Academy.

He’s also keeping his hair short and there’s no facial hair on his face, giving him a much more proper appearance than the one he’ll have later on, although he keeps his uniform unbuttoned, which is less proper.

As Kikuta tells at the rather bruised officer candidate students to stop fighting as it’s disgraceful for them, they protest they can’t let Sugimoto go as he’s dangerous while Sugimoto, completely restrained by their weight, seems to bark and growl like a wild dog. Kikuta offers him his bowl of rice and this gets Sugimoto to calm down as he starts eating the rice.

LOL, Noda couldn’t have made more obvious with this scene that Ogata and Sugimoto fight like cat and dog because THEY ARE A STRAY CAT AND A STRAY DOG.

Kikuta comments that by how it took such a huge number of students to stop him, he expected Sugimoto to be some sort of monster… but now he thinks Sugi can be of some use for him, so he tells the students he’ll take him and tells Sugimoto to follow him as he’ll get him something to eat.

As they eat Sugimoto confesses he got into the fight because the students glared at him, revealing quite a horrible temper. Kikuta points out how his was a stupid reason to start a fight, asking him if he’s a STRAY DOG (ノラ犬 ‘nora inu’). This leads him to nickname Sugimoto “vagrant boy" (ノラ坊 ‘nora bou’), warning him Sugimoto was lucky Kikuta got in between the fight, because otherwise, if the students had managed to take him away, Sugimoto would have been in deep troubles.

As Sugimoto asks why he’s called in such a way, Kikuta explains it’s due to the norabou vegetables that grow in his area. Kikuta then proceeds to explain that there’s an officer candidate in the army named Hanazawa Yuusaku, son of the commander of the 7th division.

Kikuta wants Sugimoto to take his place. So okay, it’s a chapter in which we’ve a fake Yuusaku… only he’s not the one I was expecting.

Kikuta then proceeds to explain how Hanazawa ‘I’m the worst father of the century’ Koujirou, wants his son to become the regimental flag bearer because whoever cares about the high death rate of flag bearer when he can gain more honour through Yuusaku?

Yuusaku’s mom, Hanazawa Hiro, from whom Yuusaku got his nose and, probably, his eyes, doesn’t like the idea of her son being used as cannon fodder for her husband’s glory,

but know better than to say it out loud and also know it would be a crime to murder her husband so she did the next best thing, she plotted against him, secretly contacting a “marriage agency” in Tokyo so as to find a girl desperate enough to get a husband she would be willing to steal Yuusaku’s virginity (you might remember virginity is a fundamental requisite for a flag bearer), Kaneko Kaeko, daughter of an executive in the Mitsubishi Zaibatsu.

If the name Mitsubishi feels familiar to you yet it doesn’t make you think of a car, it’s probably because we already had to deal with someone from the Mitsubishi in the Igogusa/Harumi Chiyo story.

In GK it seems people from Mitsubishi are always desperate to get married... it makes you wonder if Tsurumi had a hand in this mess as well or it’s just a coincidence...

Sugimoto, who’s poor, doesn’t get why a rich girl would be desperate to find a man, so Kikuta explains him her potential partners wouldn’t care about her being rich as they’re rich as well.

Overall Sugimoto ends up on showing again how he’s not very good at placing himself in the shoes of people of upper classes.

Turns out though Hanazawa figured out how his wife his plotting behind his back and tried to plot behind her back as well, asking the help of the commander of the 1st division, whom he trusts, who passed the job to Kikuta (I guess Kikuta might still be loyal to his former commander, which might be he’s okay with plotting against Tsurumi... or was he sent there specifically to do so? We’ll see...).

Anyway Sugimoto, who’s so NOT FAMOUS for sitting around a table and having a honest discussion with people, asks why they didn’t just do that. Really, Sugimoto, if you know talking can solve problems why don’t you try implementing it?

Kikuta replies the things had gotten too far and they’re afraid this could cause an incident that will affect the morale of the division, and, more importantly, could put Hanazawa’s wife patriotism into discussion and this would SURELY reflect bad on Hanazawa who was already willing to sacrifice his son on the altar of his own honour.

To all those who’re reading my meta for the first time, in case you’re wondering no, I don’t like Hanazawa. Not one single bit. Sorry for being biased against him.

Anyway Sugimoto gets a haircut and then Kikuta has him wear an uniform with some stars on the collar so as to make him look like a candidate officer.

Sugimoto wonders why Kikuta picked him and isn’t just using another candidate officer. I don’t know if this is relevant but Kikuta seems thoughtfull when Sugimoto says so, his hat slightly shadowing his face.

Hopefully this doesn’t mean this deception is going to put Sugimoto in serious troubles.

He then explains Sugimoto if they were to use someone from the army they would risk bad rumours about the Hanazawa to spread around.

Kikuta then comments that Sugimoto, wearing the full uniform, looks good as there’s a touch of elegance on his face that can help him impersonate Hanazawa Yuusaku, son of a high-class general. I wonder if this is meant to foreshadow Sugimoto is actually more than the commoner we believe him to be or if it’s just another way to inform us Sugimoto is good looking, in case we’ve missed it.

Sugimoto wonders if, by joining the army, he wouldn’t have to worry about food anymore and I facepalm here because really, if this is what pushed him to join, he really made a poor decision, but his expression as he talks makes me wonder if he’s just being so very naive I kind of feel bad for him... did he really have no idea what joining the army could include?

His words cause Kikuta to remember his younger brother, apparently sick, telling him to take the army cap back with him.

I guess Kikuta is kind of adopting all those young men, Ariko, Sugimoto, maybe even Nikaidou and Ogata, because he lost his younger brother.

It’s interesting how Noda shadows his face here...

Anyway Kikuta proceeds to educate Sugimoto, as he’ll have to be capable to eat great food at a fancy restaurant. So, once Kikuta thinks Sugimoto is ready as he mastered enough good table manners, a nervous Sugimoto can take part to the marriage interview… where Kikuta discovers with horror they served western cuisine… with Sugimoto being completely ignorant about western etiquette and trying to eat the shrimps using two forks… and Kikuta, who’s pecking through the window while being seated on a tree, panics, thinking he’ll be discovered immediately.

Well, that’s all for this chapter.

It was undoubtedly a fun flashback chapter that reveals that the fake Yuusaku theory wasn’t completely baseless… but definitely not what I expected it to turn out as I would have never guessed Sugimoto impersonated Yuusaku.

On another note this give me additional fun when I think at this scene.

Sugimoto should have been thinking at the time he played the high ranking officer, here... though I guess the idea is that Kaeko didn’t immediately recognize him because she’s not in the army? Didn’t they gave her a photo of Yuusaku? Sugimoto’s nose and probably his eyebrows too are different.

We’ll see.

I don’t dare to think Kaneko is also a fake sent, this time, by Tsurumi, to steal Yuusaku’s virginity because Tsurumi doesn’t want Yuusaku among them.

This would just be too crazy.

On more serious topics we can assume now that Kikuta saying Sugimoto to forget about Yuusaku in the previous chapter is due to the interview failing and Yuusaku now being forced to become a flag bearer, high mortality rate and all and the whole fake Yuusaku thing having to remain a secret between the two of them so likely Sugimoto doesn’t know anything dark about Yuusaku… beyond the fact his father wanted to use him as cannon fodder to increase his own prestige but whatever, I hardly think someone could have missed it.

I find rather fun how Noda isn’t really fond of drawing Hanazawa, he’s just using the same image of him over and over… and how instead he had no problems showing us Yuusaku’s mom, name and all, but we still have to see Yuusaku’s face. Really, I can’t wait for the big reveal.

Oh well, we can only wait and see.

#Golden Kamuy #Sugimoto Saichi #Kikuta Mokutarou #Hanazawa Yuusaku #Hanazawa Koujirou #Hanazawa Hiro #Kaneko Kaeko #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories #Kenmochi Toraji

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songbookff · 3 years

Note

Valentine's j/7 ❤

I’m making this an established janeway/seven. Set whenever you want it to be. Also it turned out a waaaayyy longer than I thought...so I also posted it on A03. Thank you, anon. If you want me to gift you the fic on A03, just message me your username. Or if you want to stay anon, that’s fine too.

In the early morning, Captain Janeway entered her office and went straight for her replicator. Coffee was calling. She gave the computer her normal order, but to her surprise, when her coffee appeared, so did a single red rose.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch the vibrantly colored rose. Attached to the green stem was a note. It was odd, to see the cardstock, although replicated and the small ribbon that secured it in place. In printed script, it read: “Roses are red...”

Kathryn pulled the rose up to her face, knowing that the scent was replicated, but reveling in it all the same. She turned away and made it halfway to her desk before she remembered that her coffee was still sitting in the replicator. Even a red rose couldn’t completely distract her from her morning cup of survival.

Rose in one hand, coffee in the other, she slipped into her chair behind her desk, only to find a small bouquet of purplish-blue flowers. A blue ribbon tied the stems together and another note attached. This one read, “Violets are blue...”

She set down the rose and her coffee (after a quick sip of course) and picked up the bundle. These felt different than the replicated rose. Katheryn’s eyes widened when she realized these were from Voyager’s own botanical gardens. They were real violets, not generated by the computer. They felt much more delicate than the rose and she could see the tiny imperfections of being grown rather than created. They were truly beautiful.

After replicating a small vase with water to set them in, Kathryn tried to start her day. However, there was the faintest smile on her face and she was convinced her coffee tasted better this morning. Finally, she pulled up her data padd to review the reports from the night shift. When the padd turned on, a single message appeared, marked urgent.

Odd. Usually urgent messages were reported by the computer so that she didn’t miss any when she was sleeping or off duty. She pressed open and the text read: “...I would like to spend dinner in the holodeck just with you.”

This time, Kathryn didn’t attempt to suppress the smile. Whatever Seven was up to, she had gone out of her way to surprise her this morning. The poem sounded familiar now. It was an old Earth romantic ballad of sorts: “Roses are red, violets, are blue...” usually followed by a rhyming ending that expressed love and adoration. It was clever, really.

And very unlike Seven of Nine. This of course, only intrigued Kathryn more.

However, she did have a ship to run. So she pulled up the reports and began reading, trying not to let the beautiful flowers on her desk distract her. It seemed everything had been quiet the night before, so the reports were short. A blown fuse on deck three had been the only excitement of the night and had been resolved within a half hour.

The door chimed after an hour, and she rose for her morning meeting with Chakotay. He entered the office was a pleasant smile, hands tucked behind his back. “Good morning, Captain.”

“It has been...” admitted Kathryn with a smile. She couldn’t help but noticed he had a mischievous look in his eyes. “Chakotay, what’s going on?”

“Can’t slip anything past you,” he chuckled. “Nothing new to report, although B’elanna claims to have come up with an idea to maximize our warp capacity by another percentage. I’ll be sure to have someone double check her math before she begins any experimentation. Although, Tom has volunteered to do the preliminary fight tests on the shuttle. So she can’t think it’s that dangerous.”

“Just make sure Harry is there to monitor,” replied Kathryn with a smirk.

“Will do. Also, I have been asked to make a delivery.” From behind his back, Chakotay produced a red box that had been formed in the shape of a geometric heart. He was grinning from ear to ear now, obviously in on whatever Seven was planning by the looks of the box he was holding out to her.

Curiously, she took the box, surprised a little by the weight of it. Under Chakotay’s excited gaze, she opened it to find an assortment of tiny chocolates also shaped as hearts. They appeared to be different flavors and if she could guess, different fillings as well.

“What is going on?” she repeated, astonished at the chocolates.

Chakotay laughed and shrugged, innocently proclaiming, “I’m just they delivery guy. But I do have strict instructions that you are to try one before we get out on the bridge.”

Chocolate wasn’t something she normally indulged in, especially not for breakfast, but the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing somehow this was all Seven’s design, forced her to comply. She picked a dark brown piece with a red swirl design and popped it into her mouth.

“Well?” asked Chakotay, eyebrow raised in anticipation.

“Dark chocolate with cherry. Absolutely delicious,” declared Kathryn. Then she let out a chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. She set the chocolates on the desk next to the rose and the vase she had put the violets in.

Together, they exited her ready room to start the morning on the bridge. Her crew was bustling as usual. To be honest it had been a dull week, but after all the excitement they had recently, Kathryn was glad for the down time. There was maintenance to be done and the crew were rotating on new shifts to get some down time. So for the next hour, Kathryn read reports in the Captain’s chair, tuning out the business of the bridge.

That is until Harry Kim was at her elbow. He cleared his throat and hesitated, “Captain...”

“What can I do for you, Ensign?” asked Kathryn. Noticing the nervous expression on his face, she added, “What did Lieutenant Paris do now?”

“I’m right here!” came the exasperated call from the helm. Tom whirled around in his seat, throwing his hands in the air. The tension broke and Harry managed a short laugh.

“As you were,” ordered Kathryn. Tom turned back to his helm, but not before giving Harry a wink.

“Captain, I need to borrow your badge...and your pips...”

“Excuse me?”

“Just for a few minutes,” he hastily said. “I just need to upgrade the badge!”

“And my pips?” Kathryn raised an eyebrow. Harry stood firm under her gaze and reached out his open palm.

Chakotay leaned over in his chair and whispered, “Don’t interrogate the poor kid. Just give him what he asked for...”

It suddenly dawned on Kathryn that this was another part of Seven’s elaborate plan. Of course, she had no idea what in the world Harry would do with her badge or rank, but wordlessly she plucked the badge from her chest and allowed Chakotay to help her unpin the four pips from her collar.

Eagerly, Harry hustled away without another word. Amused glances were being exchanged between her bridge crew and she swore she saw Tuvok give Harry a nod of approval as he left the bridge. Kathryn spend the next half hour wondering what in the stars everyone was up to when Harry returned, velvet box in hand.

Wordlessly, he handed it to her before scurrying back to his post at Ops. Chakotay was staring at the blur of stars on the viewscreen now, purposely giving her a moment of privacy. Kathryn opened the box to reveal her comm badge and four shining pips staring back at her. She hadn’t seen them this polished since they were new, well before Voyager had entered the Delta Quadrant.

It wasn’t that she didn’t take care of her hardware, but keeping them shining was the last thing on her mind during most of the journey. But here they were, good as new. The badge gleamed too, no residual fingerprints any more. She pinned it back on and nudged Chakotay to help her put the pips back on her collar.

Harry cleared his throat from Ops and she turned in her chair to face him. With the slightest red in his cheeks he said, “I think you’ll find I took care of the problem you were having with your badge sticking.”

“Very good, Ensign,” was all she could think to say. For the past two weeks, she had been complaining that her badge needed to be hit twice on occasion to connect to the computer. If they were in Starfleet space, the comm badges would be replaced regularly so this wouldn’t happen.

The rest of the morning went on as normal, although now Kathryn was wondering what else could possibly happened. Lunchtime came and she made her way to the Mess Hall. There were a few crew members already enjoying lunch. However, she reached the replicators, a voice called out.

“Captain! Your lunch is already ready for you.” Standing behind her was Icheb, proudly holding a tray. “Today the kitchen has prepared a vegetable and bean stew with a side of crusty bread.”

Icheb, still learning about human cuisine seemed unsure of what he was saying, but a steaming bowl sat atop the tray and a slice of toasted french bread rested on a napkin next to it. The stew was reminiscent of one that she had grown up eating, although it was usually replicated if she remembered correctly. It was a favorite of her father.

“Thank you, Icheb,” she said politely, taking the tray from him. He gave her a quick nod before turning on his heal to go back into the kitchen. Kathryn gave a small shake of her head in amusement. What a day this was turning out to be...

The stew was tasty, if a little heavy on beans and the bread was as crusty as Icheb had said. Still, it was a good lunch, one she had not been expecting. As she wiped up the last of the stew with her bread, Naomi Wildman slipped into the chair across from her.

“Hello, Captain.” The girl had a broad smile on her face.

“How are you, Naomi?” asked Kathryn, wondering what Seven could have put the child up to.

“I have something for you,” replied Naomi with excitement. From her lap, hidden from Kathryn’s view, she produced a small stuffed bear. It was brown with a red bow around the neck and wasn’t much bigger than Naomi’s hands. She pushed it over for Kathryn to grab and then slipped off the chair and skipped out of the Mess Hall.

The bear was soft and fit perfectly into Kathryn’s grasp. The little thing made her smile, right there in front of the other members of the crew in the Mess Hall. Most were grinning back at her and now Kathryn was certain that the entire ship was in on Seven’s escapade.

She took the bear back to the bridge with her and said nothing when Chakotay tried to cover a laugh at the sight of it sitting on the arm of her chair. She had no idea what had possessed Seven, or rather Naomi, to give it to her, but she enjoyed the little stuff thing. It was silly, but sweet.

Two hours later, Tuvok called her attention, “Captain. I believe it is time to report to your quarters.”

“I’m on shift for another three hours, Tuvok.”

“I will escort you to your quarters.” The answer was firm and when she looked behind her, he had left his post and was waiting by the turbolift doors.

Everyone on the bridge seemed to be determined to stare at their consoles and not look directly at her. Well, she had played along all morning, why stop now? With a sigh, she pushed herself out of the Captain’s seat and walked towards the exit.

“Forgetting something?” asked Chakotay, holding up the little bear. He was failing miserably at keeping his face neutral.

“You have the bridge, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kathryn retrieved the bear with a roll of her eyes and then allowed Tuvok to escort her back to her quarters. “Tuvok, will you please tell me what is going on?”

“I have been sworn to the strictest of confidences.” He continued to look straight ahead.

“I know Seven is behind all of this...but it’s interfering with my job now.”

He didn’t answer until the reached her door and then he slowly turned and spoke, “I would never place you or this ship in any precarious situation. I assure you that this is in your best interest and should a situation arrive that would need your direct attention, I will be the first to summon you.”

“Thank you, Tuvok.” He held up the Vulcan salute and then left her to enter her quarters.

When the doors whooshed open, she could hear soothing music playing. The lights were dimmed and there was a large porcelain bathtub where her coffee table used to be. And Neelix was standing behind it, grinning from ear to ear.

“Captain! Welcome to Neelix’s home spa treatment!” he greeted her with a grand motion of his arms.

“How...?” Kathryn glanced back at her closed door and then back at Neelix.

“We were worried you may not have appreciated the intrusion. But I promise that I haven’t been in any of your personal belongings. I brought all my own things. Your table was the only thing removed.” He winked at her and then, like the showman he was, waved his hands dramatically and began by lifting a small bowl from the small table he had arranged next to the bath tub.“Today I have for you the most luxurious and moisturizing face cream that will leave you glowing and relieved.”

Placing the bowl back down he reached for a bottle and wine glass also sitting on the table. Pouring the red liquid into in the glass, he said, “A top of the line red wine that comes from Earth, the French region, I believe. It is dry with a hint of blackberries and oak.”

“And here,” he pulled a leather bound book from seemingly thin air, “Is your entertainment for the evening. A romance novel circa the twentieth century, for your enjoyment.”

“All of this in what is called a ‘bathtub’.” Neelix motioned towards the tub with a sweep of his hand. “I made some adjustments to make it more comfortable. I have no idea how humans could stand sitting for long period of times with that shape. Seven wanted everything to be as historically accurate as possible, so we’ll just have to keep that secret to ourselves. The water will remain the most comfortable of temperatures for the human body and it has bubbles that give off the scent of lavender.”

“Thank you?” Kathryn eyed the bathtub wearily and then back to Neelix.

He had produced a plum colored robe and walked towards her. The silk was soft on her hands when she grasped the it. “I will leave you know. Just let the computer know if you need anything. Your next guest will be arriving at eighteen hundred hours to help you get ready for your dinner on the holosuite. The computer will give you a fifteen minute warning.”

Neelix left with a wink and a smile, leaving Kathryn alone with the robe and bathtub. Self care like this wasn’t something she indulged in anymore. It made her a little uncomfortable at first, as she stripped off her uniform and put on the robe.

A sip of wine helped relax her senses and she liberally applied Neelix’s face cream to her face. She figured that even if Neelix had somehow given her something that she was allergic to, the Doctor would be able to set it right. Once the face mask had been applied, she slipped off the robe and climbed into the tub.

As she lowered her body into the perfectly warmed water, she found the modifications that Neelix had been talking about. Instead of the rounded bottom of the tub, she found a soft, almost cushiony chair, waiting for her to rest on. She sunk back against the porcelain with a sigh.

After another sip of wine, she reached for the book. She hadn’t read it before, but it looked like something she would enjoy. It as written in the twentieth century, but appeared to take place in the eighteenth. Soon, she was entranced in the story, with nothing but the soothing music, warm water, and delicious wine to fill her mind.

The computer chimed some time later, altering her that she needed to get out of the tub. There was a towel hanging from the edge of the tub that she used to dry off and then put the silky robe back on. The door chimed and she said enter without even asking who it was.

To her surprise, B’Elanna burst through the door, a black garment bag slung over her shoulder. She took one look at Kathryn, frowned, and said, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

Kathryn had completely forgotten about the face cream and hoped she wasn’t supposed to have removed it after a certain amount of time. “I’m not sure she admitted.”

“Well, go wash it off while I get these out.” B’Elanna made a shooing motion while she walked over to Kathryn’s bed. Kathryn went into the bathroom to wash off the cream. To her relief, her face appeared to be fine. In fact, she felt light and refreshed.

When she came back in, B’Elanna had laid two pieces of clothing on the bed. One was a dark green gown, with a lace pattern overlaid on the silken material on the chest. It was belted at the waist and floor length. The second was a light grey suit, with a silken green shirt beneath it that matched the dress. Both had obviously been tailored to her size.

“I have no idea what Seven was thinking, putting me in charge of getting you dressed. So I got some opinions from the other women in the crew and we decided on these two. There is a bet going about whether you will pick the dress or the suit. I’m betting on the suit, so don’t let me down.”

Both garments were beautiful, but B’Elanna was right, the suit was probably more her style. The dress was beautiful, but the thought of wearing it down to the holosuite for anyone to see made her uncomfortable.

“I’ll wear the suit, but leave the dress.” Maybe later she could put it on just for Seven.

B’Elanna clapped her hands together in triumph. “Alright, so Seven wanted this to be authentic, hence the real clothes, but I’m not a stylist. So I programmed the holodeck to do your hair and makeup when you enter. She’ll never know. And don’t worry, I am a firm believer that no one needs makeup, so it won’t be anything heavy.”

If there was one person on this ship that Kathryn trusted wouldn’t overdo her hair or makeup, it was B’Elanna. “Thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get you into this thing. Wouldn’t want to keep the Borg waiting...” she grinned at her own joke and Kathryn rolled her eyes. It was a teasing that had been occurring since Kathryn and Seven had made their relationship public.

The pants and shirt fit like a glove and B’Elanna helped her get the suit jacket on. B’Elanna stood back, admiring her work. “Huh. It does look good.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” replied Kathryn sarcastically. “But seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” B’Elanna straightened her collar and added, “Seriously. Let’s never mention this again.”

“Deal.”

The two women left the Captain’s quarters and headed toward the holosuite. There weren’t too many crewmembers in the corridors. Kathryn wondered if they had been instructed to make themselves scarce or if everyone was just busy. Waiting by the holosuite was Tom Paris, bottle in hand, leaning against the bulkhead.

Tom let out a whistle when Kathryn and B’Elanna approached him and his wife punched him in the shoulder for it. Kathryn only rolled her eyes. “Is that bottle for me?”

“The finest champagne I could replicate. I did a little magic with the replicator to get around the safety features, that that there is the real deal. Harry and I tried a dozen just to make sure you got the best one. It’s authentic as you can get this far into the delta quadrant.” Tom handed her the bottle with a wink. Then he slung his arm around B’Elanna’s shoulder. “My fair lady, would you escort me back to our quarters. I seem to have lost my way.”

“How much did you drink, you idiot?” B’Elanna grabbed ahold of Tom and as they walked away, she called over her shoulder, “Have a good evening, Captain.”

“Go get the girl!” shouted Tom, encouragingly. He let out a hoot that was quickly shushed by his wife.

Bottle in hand, smile on her face, Kathryn entered the simulation. She walked into what appeared to be a countryside vineyard of old Earth. A single table for two was set on a stone patio that had fairy lights strung up in the air. A pair of candles lit the table on a white table cloth. Long stemmed champagne glasses were paired with white china plates.

“Hello, Kathryn.” Seven of Nine walked out of the vineyard across from Kathryn. She was dressed in a beautiful, shimmering full length red dress. The neckline dipped to reveal just enough of her chest to make Kathryn blush. It was held up by slender straps and blonde hair was curled on her shoulders. The color was gorgeous and Kathryn was sure that her jaw dropped.

“Seven...you look...” Kathryn gripped the neck of the champagne bottle tighter as she tried to find the right words. “You are beautiful.”

“I am partial to the dress,” replied Seven, looking down at herself. “It is impractical, but I believe it has the desired effect.”

“All of this is beautiful,” said Kathryn as she approached the table. “Today was been wonderful. Quite surprising, but wonderful.”

“Your suit fits you well. I find that my attraction to you is heightened in that outfit.” Kathryn allowed herself to blush under Seven’s gaze. Seven motioned for her to take a seat.

Suddenly, the Doctor, dressed in a tuxedo appeared out of thin air. “May I take that bottle from you, Captain?”

“I...yes...” Kathryn handed it over, surprised by his appearance. He deftly popped the cork and poured out the two glasses as the women seated themselves.

“Tonight, I will be serving a lobster linguine. We will begin with a light salad to prime the palate and then we will move to the main course. A decadent chocolate cheesecake will be served for dessert.” He gave them a smile and then snapped his fingers and the salads appeared on the plate in front of them. With another snap, he had disappeared.

“Seven, what is all of this?” asked Kathryn. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t understand.”

“As you know, I have been studying Earth history to help reconnect with my humanity. I came across several holidays and traditions that have intrigued me. Some of them were based on religious or political movements of the time. I found one particularly of interest now that I am in a relationship with you. It is called ‘St. Valentine’s Day’. Have you heard of it?”

A smile graced Kathryn’s face. “I have.”

“I was confused by the history at first. There are conflicting thoughts on the origins of the holiday, but all seemed to be grim. However, it transformed into a day to celebrate lovers. When calendar dates were still being observed, it occurred annually on February fourteenth. I decided to make today Valentine’s Day for just the two of us.” Seven tilted her head to the side. “I thought it would be romantic.”

“It is...” murmured Kathryn. She took another bite of salad. “I don’t know that much about the history of Valentine’s Day. I understood your poem this morning. I think it is a traditional Valentine.”

“Yes. Roses and violets. Although, the name violets implies a purple color rather than blue, I did not correct it in order to continue the rhyme. I read that a dozen roses is a common gift, but a single red rose often implies more intimacy. Therefore, I provided a single red rose and a dozen violets.”

“Chocolates are a traditional gift for lovers, even now. I can’t wait to eat the rest of them.”

“I too am found of chocolates,” admitted Seven and Kathryn filed that information away for use at a later date. “Another traditional gift is jewelry. However, necklaces, bracelets, and rings are against the dress code. And you do not wear any off duty.”

“So you had my pips and badge cleaned.” Her heartbeat quickened. Seven had thought all of this through. It really was romantic. Kathryn wasn’t sure she could love the woman more, but somehow, she still had the ability to surprise her.

“Another common gift was stuffed animals. The Doctor explained that these are not taxidermized animals, but fluff stuffed fake figures. They are more commonly used by children for comfort. A ‘teddy bear’ is a traditional stuffed animal.”

“It was cute,” laughed Kathryn and to her pleasure, she saw Seven’s eyes light up at her reaction. “The spa was nice, too.”

“I am pleased that you enjoyed it.” Seven gave her a natural smile. Goodness, she was so beautiful, especially over candlelight.

The Doctor cleared his throat to announce his return. He snapped his fingers and announced, “Dinner is served.”

The salad plates disappeared and were replaced by a delicious looking pasta dish, topped with pieces of lobster. Breadsticks appeared in the middle of the table. Seven motioned to the food and explained, “Many references sourced traditional pasta from the Italian region of Earth was a common Valentine’s meal. Others reported that a home cooked meal that was nostalgic was also a good choice.”

“So you made my father’s favorite stew.”

Seven nodded. “You don’t have many favorites, but you talk about your family so often. I thought it would be the correct touch.”

“It was perfect.” Kathryn reached across the table to take Seven’s hand in her own. “All of it was perfect.”

“I believe the correct response would be that you are perfect. But I think that is incorrect. Everyone has flaws. It is in our nature.” Seven gave her hand a squeeze. “But I feel like you deserve to be treated with perfection, because I love you.”

“I love you, too, Seven.” The candlelight twinkled in their eyes.

“We should engage in eating this meal. My research says it will be pleasing to the palate,” added Seven with a tiny smirk. Kathryn laughed and picked up her fork to dig into the pasta.

Seven was right, it was delicious. And so was the slice of cheesecake that they shared for dessert. When they were finished, the Doctor appeared again. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight. If you will stand please, I will delete the table and leave you two ladies to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Both Kathryn and Seven rose to their feet. The Doctor snapped his fingers and the table disappeared. He gave them both a little bow and then snapped himself out of the simulation. Upon his departure, music starting playing. Soft, but with a dancing rhythm. Seven offered her hand and Kathryn accepted.

The two began dancing, slowly turning on the stone patio together, beneath the moonlight and the tiny string of lights above them. Kathryn pulled Seven’s thin body tightly against her own. She dropped her face to press their cheeks together, breathing in the scent that was Seven.

Kathryn loved being this close to Seven. They fit together so well. It was something that Kathryn had never experienced with anyone else. She loved the feel of Seven’s body against her own.

“I am pleased that you are my Valentine,” whispered Seven in her ear. Kathryn smiled and pressed a kiss to Seven’s collarbone.

Then she pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her lover. Gently, Kathryn raised her hand from Seven’s hip to cup her face. Then she firmly pressed their lips together. Beneath the moonlight, Kathryn kissed her Valentine.

#kathryn janeway #seven of nine #j/7 #kathryn/seven #kathryn janeway/seven of nine #star trek #st:voy #voyager

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

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I really love your writing and I'm really happy that requests are open again!! 😭 Could you maybe write a part 2 to Strip Yourself (Hacker x reader fic) where the hacker and reader somehow meet again (like maybe the reader surprisingly tracks him down) and get together? Thank you!!

The Hacker x Reader- Strip Yourself Part 2

Part 1 HERE

Drinks were being passed on tables along with the money that flew on the stage by high heeled shoes, the girls dancing and twirling on the poles, music blasting accompanied by neon lights, creating the perfect nightlife atmosphere.

Night in New York never changed and neither did the masked man's life as he leaned on the bar, observing a brunette dressed in leopard lingerie. The Hacker bite his lower lip behind the mask as he ogled the woman, she had nice assets and eyes that he would love to see roll inside her head; by sex or murder, he could care less.

It was another Friday night, spending money on drinks and women because the next day he will get the cashback. Tonight he just finished another deal with a pretentious prick who wanted certain films.

The sick freak had some weird fetishes, but who was the Hacker to judge, after all, he wasn't any better.

"I see you looking at her. Gonna taker her in the back later?" the bartender, who the Hacker got pretty aquatinted with spoke with a chuckle.

"Maybe." The Hacker hummed, swirling the liquor in his glass.

He debated if he should just take her for a quick blowjob, when a happy cheer caught his attention, gaze moving from where the sound came. It was one of the veteran strippers, Vivian and she was hugging someone.

When she pulled away, grey eyes widened behind the blue neon lightened mask, gulping down as he took in your form.

It's been what? One year?

He had to admit you changed, but in a good way, hair and clothes are all nicely done and clean put together like a doll in his opinion. The bartender noticed the Hacker stare and nudged his shoulder.

"I never pictured you the type to go for business woman." the male snickered, but the Hacker didn't mind him that much, because all his attention was to you.

It's been a year since you left, quit the job as a stripper, and crawled your way up to be a respectable female in society, although you didn't saw yourself as some prize, never one to judge someone, because you knew what it meant to swallow your pride to get to where you were now.

Vivian felt like someone was starring at you two, so she turned around seeing the masked male, then moved her gaze back to you.

"You wanna talk to him?" she asked in your ear and you swallowed down.

You decided to visit Vivian since you two haven't talked for a long time, but you never pictured that you would meet him, after one year. The man who helped you the most.

"I kind of want to." you muttered, a little nervous, but you weren't going to act like you didn't notice him.

You weren't a coward and since you worked into the financial business you learned that cowardice is seen as a prime weakness and if the sharks in black suits notice, you will be most likely eaten alive.

So, take a deep breath you walked with her to the bar, ordering yourself a drink, while Vivian began to chat with the bartender.

"Hey." you finally said, your eyes looking at the Hacker, who has his mask turned to you.

"Hey, doll."

His voice was bitter like definitely not excited to see you after you left without a word or goodbye.

"Back again?" he broke the silence.

"More like visiting. I worked here almost all my life in college." you answered, taking a sip of your drink as it arrived.

"I know."

Of course, he knew, he was your top client, always tipping you the most, buying you gifts and attentions, showering you in compliments, and the only one who got privates shows with finalization, not that you were proud of it.

"I see you wormed yourself up on the scale in society. I guess all the hard work in college paid well." he spoke again, his tone arrogant and aggressive like.

"You want to talk about this now?" you spoke with confidence, not letting him get to you.

"What's the point? You left one year ago without a word, doll." he shot back, making you feel like you were the culprit here.

"You act like we were together. I told you from the beginning that when college is over so is this place." you clarified him, brows pushed into a frown.

He snorted behind the mask, then got up, walking away from you and towards the back door of the club where the alleyway was.

Before you would have let it go, forget about it, but you ended up being someone who wasn't going to take silence and walking away as an answer. You got up from the barstool and stalked after the male, getting out and catching his wrists before he could take another step.

"Will you stop acting so childish?" you snarked, making him stop.

"I am? Look who's talking. At last, you could have to say goodbye!" he shot back, tugging his wrist away, taking a step towards you, making you take one back.

Silence.

You had no comeback to that. Indeed, you had left, disappearing like a ghost, not even bothering to leave a message.

"That's what I thought. You know....You are no different from the sluts inside. You just have more clothes on, but you are all the same. Choking on my cock." he said in a calm and deadly voice, you could hear the smirk in his tone.

"I-I...Never..." you shuttered over your words, blushing at what he said.

"You never what?" he asked, backing you into the wall of an alleyway.

His masked face inched closer, the plastic brushing against your cheek and ear.

"Do I need to remind you of everything? That time you sucked my cock? When I fingered you? When I pounded you from behind like bitch? Each time I made you squirt?"

He was humiliating you, reminding you that you were no prude, you couldn't stick your nose in the air, because you were no better.

"It was the past." your replied, making him chuckle in amusement.

"That's your comeback?" he asked, grey eyes moving from your wide eyes and trembling lips down to your neck, noticing something underneath the white button-up blouse.

Gloved fingers moved to unbutton the first ones at the collar and you were ready to push him away, but his other hand pushed your shoulder roughly back against the wall.

"Don't fucking move." he snarled into your ear, now that your cleavage was exposed his eyes ranked over the pink diamond.

He recognized it, the one he gave you during your times together and he snickered, making you gulp down.

"You couldn't forget about me, huh....Dollface." he whispered, gloved hands moving over your collarbone.

"T-That's not-" you were interrupted by a finger on your lips.

"I'm not stupid. Can I ask you something and be honest with me, because I hate liars. How many men made you squirt?"

You wanted so badly to punch him in the mask, crack that plastic. He was so obscene and how dare he ask something like that.

"Come on. Answer." he growled into your ear.

You were so ready to throw a fist, but you were cut off as a hand grasped the waistband of your panties underneath the black skirt, tugging the cotton material up between your pussy-lips.

A squeak left your lips, a deep blush crossing your cheeks as you looked up at him.

"Heh...That's what I thought." he snorted, then just like that he left, leaving you to slump down against the brick wall behind you, the sound of the engine of his car could be heard in the distance.

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

"You should forget about him, girl." Vivian said, the two of you having coffee and breakfast.

You twirled the spoon into your cold coffee, looking lost in your thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Vivian said with an exasperated face, making you look up at her lazily.

"Yeah..." your reply was as empty as you looked.

"You can literally have any man you want and you are mourning over a hooligan....a criminal must I remind you?" your friend said, but her words went deaf for you.

"Don't tell me that you haven't been with anyone since him...." she assumed with an unbelievable look in her eyes.

"Oh God, [Name]...." she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

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

After one month, things didn't get better for you, hearing from Vivian how many gets the Hacker got in a year, and even after the incident in the alleyway he wasn't any subtle, coming to the strip-club as nothing happened.

One time you were there and seeing him with a redhead going into the back, you had a pretty good idea what happened, especially when the girl came out with money in her panties.

He had no shame!

Vivian told you like a mother would: 'Told you.'

She suggested that you should let it go and enjoy yourself, don't let someone get you down. That's how she managed to get you into a black cocktail-dress that reminded you of your types working as a stripper, black and silver heels, make-up done perfectly, and your usual ponytail hair now in wild curls.

Tonight, Vivian was off work, but you were hanging out at the club, full of people drinking and dancing. You were having a good time, joking with Vivian and some of the other girls, men coming and leaving to talk with you.

"Girl. Look at that piece of cake." Vivian whispered into your ear, pointing to a man who was giving you a look-over, his eyes ranking over your body and lips pulled into a cheeky smile.

You had to admit he was good-looking and just like the stars were aligned, he moved off the red couch and waltzed to you.

"Hey, sweetcheeks. Couldn't help but saw you looking at me. Care to dance?" well he sure was bold and you smiled.

Why not?

Taking his hand you two walked to the dancefloor, Vivian giving you thumbs up. A new song started and you began to move along, hips swaying to the beat, back turned towards him, his hands running up and down your waist.

"You look absolutely delectable." the man whispered into your ear, making you giggle.

Although you were having a good time, someone across the room wasn't on the same page, because the glass of vodka he was holding cracked lightly a little as he squeezed around it.

The Hacker was fuming behind the mask at the scenario and if he had a gun at him he would have shot the asshole who was holding you, brain splattering onto the dancefloor.

He should be there dancing with you, grinding against your body and making you giggle like a school-girl.

The last straw was when the jerks hand moved to brush his fingers onto the pink necklace that HE gave you, said jerk-fingers brushing against your breast.

That's when the bomb exploded because he took big steps towards the two of you, gloved hand grasping your wrist and tugging you away from the man's embrace. You were ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever it was, but a scream of pain torn through the music and a satisfying crack resounded.

The Hacker punched the man straight in the nose, breaking it, but the guy had to fight and just as that hell broke loose, glasses been thrown, chairs flying by and people fighting.

You were moving along the bodies fighting, going for the exit. The cold air of the night hit your sweaty face. Eyes wide open you couldn't believe what happened. Vivian came after you, making sure you weren't injured.

After one hour everything calmed down, but the mess was irremediable. You were leaning against Vivian's car when a masked face caught your attention.

Normally you would have gone and given him a piece of your mind, about how stupid he can be, but his dislocated shoulder, blood-covered clothes, and the cracked mask made you pity him.

You took a step towards him, but Vivian stopped you.

"I will be fine. You go home." you told her, making her sigh, telling you to be careful.

You walked towards him with your arms crossed, observing him.

"Give me your car keys." you told him, snatching the keys out of his pocket and helping him move towards his car.

He didn't say anything as you got him into the passager seat and you into the driver one. The ride towards your house was quiet, no comments have been exchanged. Getting in, you laid him on the couch and got a first-aid kit.

"Get your hoodie off." you told him and he chuckled dryly.

"So straight-forward, doll." he joked, making you roll your eyes, but alas you helped him get the piece of clothing off, noticing the bruises forming. You managed to put his shoulder back into place, with a deep groan of pain from him.

You noticed blood coming from underneath his mask and you grasped to pull it off, but he stopped you.

"You're hurt and bleeding." you told him and he sighed, leaving your wrists.

You didn't expect him to look so....Devilish like? Maybe a bit too young for his age. You could swear that if he didn't have the stubble on he would look like in his middle 20s.

"Like what ya see, sugar?" He asked with a smug smirk, his busted lip bleeding more, but you stopped him, whipping it away.

"You are an idiot, you know? What were you thinking?" you asked with a glare, still continuing to patch him up.

"That scumbag was touching you." he whispered, grey eyes looking at you with a slight glare.

"It was consensual. Don't tell me you're jealous....God....We are not together." you explained, exasperated.

"I don't like it when people touch what's mine." he responded, making your heart flutter a little.

"You heard me, doll.....Don't tell me the feelings aren't the same." he spoke with a bitter voice, coughing a little.

Yup, his ribs were bruised.

"Erron....I-I do care about you. I cannot lie, I mean you helped me through the bad for almost 3 years and I never once thanked you." you admitted, your eyes moving from his torso, noticing for the first time the dragon tattoo on one of his peeks, meeting his grey eyes.

He smiled a real genuine smile.

"Then why do we act like we're enemies because I sure don't see you that way." he whispered, his bruised lips inching closer to yours until they slightly touched.

He hissed at the pain, hating that he couldn't kiss you deeply, taking your breath away.

"You're hurt." you said, pulling away.

"Hey...I've been stabbed and shot in the past and still could get a hard-on after." he augmented with a smirk.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"You're so despicable." you said with a smirk.

"That's why you love me." he winked, groaning at how sore his muscles were.

"Rest now. You look like shit....I'm gonna make you something to eat." you told him, walking to the kitchen.

"Well, aren't you the sweetest, [Name]? I didn't know we were married."

"I hate you!" you yelled from the kitchen and he laughed.

"Love ya too, sugar!"

#The Hacker #The Hacker x Reader #slasher x reader #slasher oc #Original Character #cyber killer #Cyber Killer x Reader #erron #erron x reader #error 666

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buckyodinson · 4 years

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The First (Agent Whiskey x fem!Reader)

Request from anon: agent whiskey x reader w/ shy (forst tiem) valentine s e x and he lowkey likes it alot alot in the sense that homie is taller than her and she sexually frustrated him by teasing him without her meaning too? coz shes shy?? 🤝😳

Word Count: 5.4k (I don’t know where it all came from!)

A/N: SMUT! I don’t claim to be a great writer when it comes to smut, so I hope this reads okay?

It was fair to say that you turned some heads at the Statesman agency. You were one of the youngest agents there, but you rose through the ranks quickly and became one of the most highly skilled agents they had. Within just a few months, you were already working with the likes of Tequila and Whiskey. They were both floored the first time you were sent on an assignment with them, and you kicked total ass on the field. It was a complete 180 from your usual demeanour. Usually, you were quite reserved and wouldn’t pipe up during meetings or briefs, and you mostly kept to yourself, but on assignments and recon missions, you were a whole other person. Both men flirted with you constantly, and you would blush and smile in response, too shy to respond to their comments.

Tequila’s infatuation with you was just that, it was a fleeting feeling, and soon he would just compliment you to see you blush, not actually wanting anything from it. Whiskey, however, found himself falling for you. He was a little baffled at first as it was a foreign feeling to him. It had been a long time since he’d truly felt that way about someone before, but it almost gave him whiplash when he realised he was actually falling in love with you.

He was completely enamoured with you. He loved your quiet nature, finding it adorable that you would often be found in your office reading a book if you had no paperwork to be filling out. You could speak your mind if needs be and had done on several occasions. Once, when Ginger was voted against on a promotion, you slammed your first on the table, muttering ‘this system is bullshit’ before storming out of the office. Naturally, you went and found Champ afterwards and apologised profusely for the way you acted, but Whiskey thought it was endearing how much you cared for your friends. Obviously, he found you to be incredibly attractive too, and he’d be lying if he said watching you out on the field didn’t do anything to him.

After a lot of assignments where you were paired or grouped together, Whiskey would go to his room and get off to the thoughts of you beating the shit out of whoever you’d been sent after. He’s a little embarrassed about how often his nights end in that way, but he just can’t help it. And even just around the headquarters too, he couldn’t get enough of you. On the odd occasion, you would come into work in a denim number (which he most definitely appreciated), most days you would be in smart clothes - a nice blouse tucked into either some tailored trousers or a pencil skirt, sometimes a cute dress. And Whiskey could not get enough of it. Hearing your little heels clicking down the hallway was one of his favourite things to hear.

He would never admit to it, but in some of the shared spaces in the headquarters, like the break room, he would purposefully put things on shelves a little bit taller than where you could reach, so he could swoop in and get them for you. You weren’t super short by any means, but they were shelves even he’d have to reach for. You’d always give it your best shot to get them yourself (and he did feel a little pervy enjoying the view sometimes), before ultimately turning around and, by some miracle, Whiskey was always there to help, giving you a wink and a “It’s no problem at all, sugar” type response to your thanks. Sometimes he felt a bit cruel for doing it in the first place, but there was no harm really.

He started laying the flirting on thick sometime just before Christmas, always grabbing you a drink on his way to the office in the morning or offering the buy you lunch or dinner while you were out on missions. Sometimes you’d come into your office to find a single flower laid on your desk, and you’d blush at the thought of Whiskey stopping by a florist that morning and asking for just the one flower.

You had fallen very quickly for Whiskey too. As you started working your way up the ranks of the Statesmen, some people warned you about Whiskey, calling him a womaniser, telling you he brought a new girl home every week and all sorts of similar tales. But when you finally made it to the senior agents’ team and met Whiskey, he was nothing like the rumours. He was a total sweetheart. Sure, he flirted with you a lot, but he certainly didn’t seem like he was taking girls home left, right and centre. You found him to be a very thoughtful man, always grabbing you a drink in the morning, or buying you a little pastry at lunch, reminding you to eat something while you work.

You were shy by nature, and you wished you could put yourself out there a little more and be a bit closer to Whiskey, but you were worried. He was a fair bit older than you, and while he did flirt with you and treat you often, you didn’t want to read too much into it, thinking he wouldn’t be interested in you romantically because you were so much younger. And, to be really honest with yourself, in your time working up to be a Statesman agent so young, you hadn’t really had time for any sexual exploits, so you were severely inexperienced. And because of that, you were a little worried about the rumours about him, worrying he’d think you were too immature for him and move on to the next attractive woman who walked into the distillery who’d gladly fuck him in a heartbeat.

Whiskey was an attractive man, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about being intimate with him, but having those thoughts would panic you a little because you know how painfully shy you are and how awkward you’d be, and it puts you off the whole thing. You couldn’t help but get a little hot under the collar during missions, seeing him effortlessly use his whip and lasso. You’d definitely thought about whether he’d use them in the bedroom or not, before blushing profusely and getting on with the mission, before excusing yourself as soon as you’d been debriefed, so you could go home and get off to the thought of it.

Whiskey’s flirting and your unintentional teasing had been going on for a while, and you were all at a bar celebrating a mission that ended successfully. People were chatting about their plans for Valentine’s Day in a few weeks, and you offhandedly mentioned you’d never been on a date for Valentines.

Whiskey’s eyebrows shot up, “That can’t be true, doll. You’re telling me nobody has ever taken you out for Valentines?”

You simply shook your head in reply as you took a sip of your drink.

“Well I’m not having that, sugar. How about I take you out, show you how a fine girl like you should be treated on Valentine’s Day?”

You laughed into your drink, “You really don’t have to, Jack. I’m sure I’m not missing out on much.”

“Come on, doll. Let me treat you? I’ll give you the whole Jack Daniels Valentine Experience!” You wondered how intimate a typical Valentines would get for Jack but the way he smiled softly at you made your heart melt, and who can say no to those puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, cowboy.” You rolled your eyes, but your heart was fluttering in your chest.

In that few weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day, you would find flowers, chocolates, balloons and sweet little handwritten notes in your office, and you would feel heat crawl up your neck every time you opened your office door and see what awaited you. The day before Valentines, you came into your office to find a box tied with a bow, that had a small note attached to it.

‘Saw this and thought of you, doll. Maybe you could wear it tomorrow? X’

You opened the box to find a beautiful black dress. It was a very classic looking dress, with a white collar and little embroidered flowers along the sleeves and the hem, and it stopped just short of your knees. You were shocked when you saw it, expecting Jack to be the kind of man to buy a sexy, revealing dress for a woman to wear on a date, and it only made you fall for him more. He wasn’t pushing you into anything he knew you’d be uncomfortable with, and he genuinely seemed to know you well. At the bottom of the box, was a note saying that he’d pick you up from your apartment at 7, and to expect ‘the best date of your life’, which frankly wasn’t hard to beat. You’d only been on a few dates as a teenager which all ended horribly, and no matter how badly this date with Jack went, you were sure it’d be miles better than the others.

The day came and you were very nervous. You really liked Whiskey and you wanted to make a good impression. You knew it was silly, as he didn’t think of you that way, he was just doing this for you because he was sweet and wanted you to have a fun night. But you were still nervous and paced the hallway of your apartment once you were ready for the night. You had no idea what to expect from the night, and the butterflies in your stomach were raging, but you were excited at the same time.

At 7 on the dot, you heard your doorbell chime, and you took a deep breath before answering the door. You were met by Jack in a suit with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in his hands. Cliché but you loved it anyway. You opened the door further and he stepped in, pulling you into an embrace and kissing you on the cheek. You blushed and giggled at his action and shut the door behind him, leading him to the kitchen so you could find a vase for the flowers before you left.

“You look amazing, Y/N. The dress looks beautiful on you.” He spoke softly, without his usual flirty tone.

“Thank you, Jack. You’ve cleaned up pretty well yourself, though it is a little odd seeing you without your hat.” You smiled up at him as you put the flowers in a vase and placed them on your windowsill.

“Only for you, darlin’. Nobody else is worth taking the Stetson off for,” He winked as he walked back to the front door, “You ready to go?”

You nodded and followed him out the door. You locked up and followed him out of his building to his car, where he opened the passenger door for you, holding your hand as you stepped into the car, before walking round to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“So, where are you taking me, Mr Daniels.” You smirked at him as he started to drive. The name caught him off guard and he blushed a little, getting the tiniest bit turned on by it.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, angel.”

He drove for about 20 minutes, singing softly to some songs that played on the radio, and chatting idly with you, before pulling up to a bookstore. You raised an eyebrow when he parked the car, and he just smiled at you, before jumping out and all but sprinting to your side of the car so he could help you out before you got out by yourself.

He walked you up to the store and when you walked in and he led you to a back corner of the store, it took your breath away. There were a few small tables in the corner, and you assumed they must have a little cafe set up in the daytime, but one table had been set up with candles and rose petals adorning the floor leading up to it. String lights also lit up the small corner, so the area was quite dimly lit.

“Jack… it’s beautiful.” You we’re at a loss for words, really, and couldn’t quite comprehend the gesture.

“I know you’re not the most extroverted girl out there, so I figured you’d enjoy this more than any fancy restaurant full of other couples.” He pulled out a chair and you sat down in it, not missing the fact that he said ‘other couples’, and definitely not missing the way your heart flipped at that comment.

Food was soon brought out to the pair of you, and you were shocked to see it was your favourite dish. You could’ve only mentioned it once before, but Jack clearly stored that away for future reference, and here it was sat in front of you. At one point he excused himself to go to the bathroom, and the waitress came to collect your plates and spoke to you while she tidied the table, “I must say, you’ve got a real catch. He’s been in and out of here the whole week planning this night, making sure it was perfect for you. I’ve never seen such a doting boyfriend before.” You smiled and she left you alone at the table once more. You pondered her comments for a while - why was Jack making such a big effort for a silly little date like this? But you had to push your thoughts back when Jack returned to the table.

“This is all too much, Jack. You really don’t know how much I appreciate this. Thank you.” You spoke once he returned.

“Not at all, darlin’. And it should be me thanking you for letting me take you out.” He reached across the table to take one of your hands in his, and you blushed.

“Don’t be silly, Jack. I’m sure any girl would throw themselves at your feet to be taken out and treated like this.”

“Maybe… but I wouldn’t care about them the way I care about you.” He looked down at his lap, and he seemed genuinely nervous, a word you’d never heard in the same sentence as Jack.

You didn’t know how to reply to his admission, so just simply squeezed his hand, and he leaned forward and took a deep breath, “I really like you Y/N, and I wanted this night to be perfect, because I wanted to prove that I’m not the guy everybody thinks I am. The guy I’m sure people have told you about may have been me a long time ago. But ever since you joined the agency, I’ve been in awe of you. And I honestly can’t believe I’m sat across from you right now. It feels like some kind of dream, doll. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, because even if you don’t, I’ll have still had this one perfect evening with you.” He spoke so quietly, and despite the fact that the smile on your face grew bigger as he spoke, he still looked terrified of your answer once he’d finished speaking.

“I feel the same, Jack. You’ve been an absolute gentleman to me ever since we met, and I’ve felt the same for a while now too.” You leaned forward and he captured your lips with his own, giving you a chaste kiss before pulling away and resting his forehead on yours.

“I’ve waited so long to do that, angel.” He whispered sweetly and you both sat there like that for what seemed like an hour, smiling to yourselves like a pair of idiots.

“How would you feel about coming back to my place for a movie and a drink?” The invitation worried you a little, but you saw in his eyes he had no other intentions and it calmed you down.

“I think I’d like that.”

He drove you over to his place, and he told you to make yourself comfortable while he grabbed some drinks. You sat down on his sofa and took in the decor of the room. It was minimalist, but you could see little hints of Jack everywhere, a few photos littered the wall, and one particular photo caught your eye. You walked over to it, and saw it was a photo from the gala the Statesmen had at Christmas. You weren’t the biggest person for fancy parties, but you went to it, knowing Jack would be there, and you actually had a great time. The picture in front of you had you, Jack and Champ sat at your usual seats in the briefing room, but all in Santa hats and pulling ridiculous faces.

You smiled at the photo and jumped when Jack came up behind you and laid a hand on your back.

“Hope you don’t think it’s weird that I have that photo up, doll.”

“Not at all, it’s cute.”

He led you back over to the sofa, where he sat and you tucked yourself into his side, your head resting against his chest. He covered you both with a blanket and wrapped his arm around you, resting it on your thigh. Your hand was laid on his stomach and you absentmindedly rubbed your thumb against his shirt as you watched the move Jack put on. Jack was doing the same with the hand on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but focus on how nice the small movement felt, instead of watching the movie. Little did you realise, you were having the same effect on Jack, and he was getting more turned on by the minute. He could see a small tent forming in his pants and prayed to god you wouldn’t notice, not wanting to ruin a sweet moment like this.

But then you tucked yourself closer into his side and stretched your arm out slightly, and it grazed his crotch and he couldn’t quite catch the moan that left his lips at the fleeting touch. You gasped and sat up when you realised what had happened. You looked at him with wide eyes and saw his pupils were blown. The sight made you weak in the knees, but also scared you and when he leaned forward to capture your lips you quickly excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Jack sat there confused for a minute before following you and knocking softly on the door.

“You okay in there, sugar?”

“…yeah, yeah I’m okay. I’ll… uh... I’ll be out in a sec.”

He decided to go back and wait for you, and after a few minutes you emerged again and sat next to him.

“What’s up, doll?” He lifted your chin to face him.

“It’s nothing, Jack.”

“Come on, you can tell me anything, angel.” His thumb rubbed light circles into your cheek.

“It’s just… I got a bit freaked out. I’ve never… I’m not very expe… I’m a virgin, Jack.” You spoke barely above a whisper, worried about his response.

“It’s okay, doll. I don’t want to rush you into anything. You just gotta be a little more careful where you’re putting your hand, is all, darling. I’m a red-blooded man, after all.” He laughed at himself to ease your anxiety, and you leaned into his hand in your cheek.

“The thing is… I want to. I’m just nervous… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing you could do would disappoint me, Y/N. Everyone’s nervous their first time. It’s natural.” His words eased you and you felt a sudden burst of courage and you lurched forward to kiss him.

Jack was shocked but instantly melted into the kiss, and he shifted you, so you were sat in his lap before pulling away, breathing heavily, “Are you sure about this, sugar? I can wait, honestly. There’s no rush at all.”

You only answered by pulling him towards you and attaching your lips to his again. He groaned into the kiss and pulled your body closer to his. You sighed and wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up and walked you to his bedroom. He placed you gently down onto his bed before stepping back and admiring your wide pupils and swollen lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked once again and you nodded in reply, “I need to hear you say it, doll.”

“Yes, Jack. I want this.” Your breathless voice turning him on further.

He reached for your hands and pulled you to stand. He kissed you again before stepping and walking behind you, and slowly unzipping your dress, attaching his lips to your neck while he did so. You sighed in response and turned your neck further, giving him better access, which he gladly accepted. Once the zip was completely down, Jack ghosted his hands over the skin of your back until they reached the collar of the dress and he pushed it slowly off of your shoulders and down your arms, leaving goosebumps behind where his fingers traced your skin. Once the dress reached your hips, he let go and it dropped to the floor. His touch remained on your hips for another minute or so while he continued to kiss and nip at your neck, before disappearing completely. You turned around slowly to see he had removed his shirt and was undoing his belt. When he noticed you’d turned around, he looked up at your face and smiled before his gaze dropped to your chest. You immediately became self-conscious and crossed your arms in front of your chest. He quickly took his trousers off and let them drop, stepping out of them and placing his hands on your hips.

“Darlin’, these are nothing to be embarrassed by. You haven’t gotta hide from me.” He pulled you flush against him and you felt the hard outline of his cock through his boxers, and you blushed but slowly reached your hand out to touch his now bare chest.

“That’s my good girl.” He drawled and you sighed as he rubbed small circles into your hips, before suddenly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You squealed and he laughed into your skin as he left a mark on your neck.

He moved over to the bed and crawled on before laying you down softly into the sheets. He stayed there for what felt like an eternity just kissing along your jaw and neck before reaching behind you and unclasping your bra and flinging it somewhere across the room. You sighed as he left a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts and then let out a moan when he latched his mouth onto one of them, palming the other with his hand. You dig your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and earning a delicious groan from the back of his throat. While he swaps to give your other breast some attention, his hand slips down to your clothed core. He simply runs a single finger lightly over the material of your underwear, and your hips jerk up in response, along with a soft sigh. One hand is fisted into the sheets underneath you, while the other tugs lightly on Jack’s hair, pulling grunts and sighs from him.

Jack slowly kisses his way further down your body, until he reaches your underwear. You think he’s going to pay some attention there, but he simply gives one kiss over the material, which makes your hips jerk again, before carrying on down one leg. He pays attention to your inner thighs, and his touch against the sensitive skin there has you reeling. As he continues further down your legs, he pulls your underwear along with them. Once they’re off, he crawls back up your body until he’s reached your core again. Your legs open wider involuntarily and Jack groans at the sight.

“You’re beautiful, darlin’,” He speaks lowly before reaching a finger out to press softly into your folds. This action pulls a moan from deep in your throat and the sound sends blood straight down to Jack’s already hard cock, “so wet for me already.”

He pulls his finger back and wraps his lips around it and hums, and the sight makes you weak. He settles between your thighs and licks a stripe straight up from your entrance to your hooded clit, and no dreams you’d ever had about Jack in the past could compare to the way his tongue actually felt against you. You felt the soft touch of his fingers moving through your folds, before his tongue finds your bud and gives it small licks before taking it completely into his mouth and sucking on it. You were seeing stars, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the sheets. His dexterous tongue explores your folds and he hums, and the vibration shoots up your entire body, making you shiver. You gasp when he sinks a finger inside you, and you swear you stop breathing for a minute. You shoot a hand out to grab his hair, and when you tug on it, Jack let’s out a growl and adds another finger to you depths, stretching them apart within you and you feel a coil tighten deep within you.

“Jack…please… God” you sigh, and a lewd moan escapes your mouth, further spurring Jack on, making him double his efforts. He reaches a hand up to grab at your breasts, pinching one of your nipples, and you come completely undone, body tensing. You bring a hand to your mouth and bite down on it to stop from making too much noise, and you actually draw blood, but you’re in complete ecstasy so you don’t even notice. Jack, meanwhile, is still lapping up everything you have to offer him and once you come out of your high, he stops and slowly makes his way back up your body until he’s hovering over you, smirking. You blush and cover your face when you see his mouth and chin are glistening from your release.

“Doll, there’s no need to be embarrassed. That was amazing.” He grabs your hand and sees the blood on it, furrowing his brows “What happened here?”

“I must have bit down too hard on it.” You admitted, still breathing heavily.

“From now on, I don’t want you hiding the noises you make, sugar. They were like music to my ears.” He leans down to capture your lips once more, and you can taste yourself on his tongue, groaning at the sensation. He pulls away to say “There we go, good girl.” before diving in again.

With one hand in his hair, you run the other down his chest, and find the waistband off his boxers. Reaching your hand in slowly to grab his cock, he suddenly grabs your wrist and hovers above you once more, “Are you sure darlin?”

“Yes,” you breath out “I want you to feel good too.”

“This is all about you, not me. And trust me, angel, I’m okay if you want to stop.” He looked down at you so lovingly, and your heart almost stopped.

“Yes, Jack. Please… I want you.”

He gave you quick kiss on the lips before reaching for the cabinet next to the bed and rummaging around the drawer before pulling out a condom. He kicks his boxers off and rolls it on slowly, and you get your first real look at Jack in all his naked glory, and you’re biting your lip without realising it as you watch him. He’s big, and 20 minutes ago you’d be panicking, but you felt much calmer now, and knew Jack wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. He smirks up at you when he feels your gaze on him, “Enjoying the view, sugar?”

“Definitely.” You giggle and reach for him. He obliges and climbs over you again, dipping down to kiss you. He lines himself up with your entrance, and gives you one last chance to stop, and you roll your hips up to meet his, so the tip enters you and you both moan in pleasure. He slowly pushes the rest of the way in until he’s completely sheathed, and he drops his head to your shoulder, panting.

“God, doll. You’re so tight, it’s unreal.” He grunts but stays still, giving you time to adjust to his size, leaving kisses along your collarbone.

“I’m good, please move Jack.” You sigh and Jack starts to pull out slowly before burying himself back to the hilt again. It was painful at first, but soon, the pleasure outgrew the pain and you could feel another orgasm approaching. You wrapped your legs around Jack’s waist again and clawed at his back, “Faster, Jack… please.”

He starts to move a little faster, not being too rough with you though, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer, the way your pussy is clenching him, so he slides a hand between your bodies and starts circling your clit again, trying to get you to catch up with him. The sensation is too much, and you bite down on his shoulder, most definitely leaving a mark there.

“Come on, angel. Almost there. You’re being so good-such a good girl-fuck, I’m so close.” He stutters as his thrusts start to become sloppier, pressing harder against your clit.

You can’t even formulate a coherent reply, but you moan so loudly and it’s all the confirmation Jack needs to know you’re as close as he is, as well as the way you’re clamping down on him. He catches your lips again and after a few more thrusts, his hips stutter as he comes, but he carries on until you follow suit a few seconds later. You both ride out your highs, Jack’s thrusts becoming slower and slower until he comes to a complete stop, and the only sound in the room is your heavy breaths. Jack softens and pulls out of you and flops down next to you.

“That was something else, doll.” Jack speaks through his laboured breaths.

He gets up and throws the condom away in the bathroom and returns with a washcloth to clean you up, giving you wet kisses along your jaw and neck.

“I’m gonna get us a drink, make sure you use the bathroom.” He winks at you when he walks out, and you can’t help but stare at his ass, confirming it looks much nicer out of his jeans than in them.

You take his advice and go to the bathroom, smiling at yourself with how sweet he is, and how much he cares about you. When you’re done, you catch yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your make-up is smudged, so you quickly wash your face while you’re there. When you re-emerge in the bedroom, Jack is still naked, sat on top of the sheets leaning against the headboard with two glasses of water in his hands. You quickly hop under the sheets next to him and he hands you one of the glasses. You take a sip and when you’re done, he takes them glasses and puts them on the cabinet beside the bed, before shuffling around until he was under the sheets, and he pulled you flush against him.

“You okay?”

“I’m great, a little sore if I’m honest, but it was definitely worth it.” You giggle and place a hand on his cheek, which he leans into.

“Thank you, Jack. I still can’t quite believe that just happened.” You grinned.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, doll. You deserved everything and more tonight. And I’m glad I’ve got you all to myself now.”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna top Valentine’s Day every year from now though. This one has been perfect.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a way, sugar. Don’t you worry about that…” he smirked down at you and you leaned up to kiss him.

You turned around in his arms, so your back was against his chest, and the pair of you fell asleep soon after. Both of you falling asleep to the thoughts that you can’t quite believe how lucky you are to be with the other.

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut #kingsman #kingsman: the golden circle

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real-jaune-isms · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 9 Review/Remix

I cannot in good conscience joke that Rooster Teeth intended to go on a week’s hiatus after this cliffhanger, but I will say this was a hell of an episode for it to happen after. And while we wait to see what happens next, let’s take a little look at what’s happened here and now.

For the sake of not dividing up the action, let’s first cover what’s happening on the battlefield outside of Monstra. We open on a sweeping shot of the carnage thus far and see a good few nameless Atlesian soldier corpses to get our spirits plummeting. But Grimm don’t (with one terrifying exception) leave corpses so we don’t know how many of them have been taken out up to this point. It could be a very significant number, more than the body count on the human side! But Monstra keeps making more and we don’t have a way to replenish our forces so... it’s an endurance game more than anything else.

In a tactic I really didn’t see coming, the Atlas forces have dug trenches to fight out of like World War 1 soldiers. It makes sense, there are Grimm that we have seen have ranged projectiles so cover is a good move and it gives them a place to go over strategies before climbing out and going on the offensive. Just didn’t expect nearly century old battle strategy from an army with robots and mechs. Whatever works, I guess. We get a look in one of these trenches to see Winter briefing a squad on the plan to keep this area secure since it’s where an airship will be dropping off the bomb, and once it arrives their mission becomes escorting it inside Monstra. Amazingly, we can recognize 4 people in this squad as the members of Team FNKI! And WOW do they look out of place wearing the standard Atlesian soldier armor rather than their colorful and creative street clothes... Even their spunky personalities are taking a hit in this desperate situation. The next wave is approaching so everyone climbs out to start fighting back, and Marrow is shown a short ways away visibly upset over how many of their forces are just kids. Elm tells him to save the musings for after the fighting is done, and that does kick him into gear a bit. Everyone does a good job of handling the Grimm, Flynt and Neon tag teaming to take out a Goliath, and pretty soon the airship does touch down with the bomb. Left to his own thoughts, Marrow stares wistfully at Monstra and wishes good luck to “Juan”. Glad some things still haven’t changed.

Winter goes into the hold to sign off on its delivery, and Marrow follows her in to beg for a little more time for Yang and the others to get out first. She tells him they’ve allowed all the time they can and now it’s up to the teens to handle themselves. He calls her on this ambivalence, asks her if she’d be so dismissive if it were Weiss inside the whale. And for that matter, how is she going to be able to face Weiss and tell her 4 of her friends are dead because of Winter’s decision? Winter is visibly discomforted by that thought, but steels her nerve and replies that she will do so if she has to because that’s part of the job, so he should worry about doing his job. But you can tell she takes no pride in the job at this point.

With all of that battlefield drama out of the way, let’s talk about that group’s journey inside the whale. Through unseen means they managed to get inside, but the hallways all look the same and they aren’t finding a map any time soon. Yang points out this is like finding a needle in a... giant whale. More wonderful wit, brightens the mood immensely. Ren takes this opportunity to tell them about his new Semblance ability and says that he can use it as a sort of radar for other humans by sensing where the spikes of their emotions are. He can’t tell which one is Oscar, but he knows they’re all deeper inside Monstra so he’ll lead the way. Jaune reminds Ren that he can give him a boost with his own Semblance if he needs it, and Ren sheepishly agrees. Guess he’s still getting used to letting others in and being open about when he needs support. That was part of their whole three way argument on the tundra earlier this Volume after all. So this is them putting aside their differences and settling that. Jaune gives him some awkward finger guns and they head off.

We cut to Oscar lying on the floor of his holding room quoting a fairy tale to himself. Oz recognizes the quote as being from “The Girl Who Fell Through the World”, and Oscar isn’t shocked Oz knows it so well. He admits that yes, he did live through his fair share of events that became fairy tales. This particular story isn’t in the officially released book of Remnant’s fairy tales so we have to make some guess work about its plot and overall lesson. It seems to be a sort of mix of Wizard of Oz and the Hobbit where a girl craves to see the wider world and gets that chance through an adventure but when she returns she finds she can never quite fit in again because the journey has changed who she is forever. Oscar admits he’s growing to identify with the heroine of that story more and more by the day because he too has been sent through Remnant and come out the other side unable to feel the same innocent joy he did before he knew what the world really is. Oz thinks they may have to drop their plan of creating traitors in Salem’s ranks because it’s bearing no fruit, and suggests they start thinking about how to get his cane and get out of here themselves. Oscar has reservations about that, because apparently the more he uses Oz’s magic the quicker his soul is heading towards being lost as another past life for the single continuing existence that is Oz to look back on. Oz doesn’t blame him for wanting to delay that, and thinks just being Oscar is serving him pretty well. They don’t have time for further musings because Hazel comes in and drags the poor kid out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

Turns out they’re taking a trip over to the Home Depot, because Hazel is looking to procure a Lamp. He only half believes Oscar’s explanation of how Jinn works, so he wants to test it before taking the news to Salem and risking losing his head for reporting a lie. And if it does work, I guess he wants to know what that will entail. So he’s gonna make Oscar do it here and now. Before they can get underway with that, in comes Emerald to ask just what the hell they’re doing. Let’s find out, Hazel simply replies. That’s all the go ahead Oscar needs, and he calls for Jinn. Again, time stops around them and Jinn emerges from the blue smoke. She’s gotten a bit of an update to her model since Volume 6, and she’s as captivating as ever. Naturally, she wants to know what question they have of her, but no one seems to have one they urgently need answered. Hazel got all the answers he needed just by knowing Oscar was being honest about this and thus probably about a lot of other important matters. He decides now is the time to switch sides once and for all, he’s going to help Oscar AND Emerald get the hell out of here because neither of them deserve to be under Salem’s thumb. Oscar plays a little of the pronoun game and implies he wants his cane back before they leave, and Hazel seems to have no problem with that. Jinn remains playful, but must be getting pretty damn fed up with people summoning her without having a question to ask. Oscar deems it necessary to tell her that they’ll be taking her with them when they leave, as if that’s an alternative she was going to give much of a damn about. Hazel doesn’t think that’s a good idea, it’s the most prized item in Salem’s possession and she’s clearly going to know if it’s taken. He decides he’ll make a return trip to swipe it after the kids are out of the danger zone. They all head out as Jinn starts to fade into her cloud of smoke, but it seems they were not the only ones in the room at this time. With perfect chameleon-like camouflage, Neo was hiding in the shadows near the doorway, and emerges from nowhere like the Cheshire Cat. Now she’s alone with the Lamp and the knowledge of how it works. If only she could actually talk...

Back to our intrepid trio of heroes, Jaune is running on fumes with his Aura so he has to stop amping Ren’s Semblance. Ren apologizes of course, it does take a lot for him to both mask their emotional presences and search for other people at once, but Jaune says it’s fine. He’ll scout ahead while Ren takes a breather and doesn’t mask for a little while. With directions for where they need to be heading, Jaune jogs away full of optimism. Yang jokes about the two men patching things up after their spat the evening prior, but he decides its time for some patented Lie Ren wisdom. “It’s okay to be afraid, you don’t always have to hide it with a joke”. He’s not gonna judge her if she’s not in happy go lucky fun time mode, this is a seriously terrifying situation and she’s allowed to show fear and hesitation. At least, that’s the message I extrapolated from this and what we already know about Yang. Ren assures her he is scared too, but amazingly he can’t sense any such doubt or fear from Jaune. That man has full confidence and hope in getting this done, and if he believes then so will they. I really like that, it shows how much Jaune has grown from the noodle boy we first met. Speaking of the lad, he comes running back and tells Ren to mask them ASAP. A Seer is coming down the hall, and they hide from its view for as long as possible. But Ren is running low on Aura too and the effect wears off just before they’re in the clear.

Meanwhile, Hazel and Emerald are walking down a separate hallway and the former asks “You sure he’ll be okay on his own?” Clearly this means they let Oscar out of their sight so he can go get his cane, which shows a lot of confidence in the lad from these former captors. Emerald doesn’t have a clear answer yet, but she does stop Hazel and have him stand against the wall next to her. Salem is coming this way, and they need to let her pass. She stops, and naturally asks Hazel for an update on Ozcar. If he’s out here that must mean he has something to report. So, has he given up what they need yet? Hazel seems to immediately be cracking under pressure, the guy has no experience with lying or deception. Before he can stammer in place for too long, the Seers start wailing in the distance and that gets Salem’s attention instead. She realizes they have unexpected visitors, then almost immediately panics as she seems to realize the Lamp has been taken and these interlopers are surely to blame. Salem speeds off with all the grace of a kid riding a hoverboard, and it’s really quite amusing. I mean, we see her move her legs to walk but she just floats instead of running. We go back to the heroes finishing off the wave of what seemed to be Sabyrs that had come after them, and they decide to keep moving forward no matter the danger. Clever use of that phrase so near and dear to our hearts, and its good to see them gung ho about fighting their way through Monstra if it means finding Oscar.

They round a few more corners and find themselves face to face with Emerald and Hazel, and they’re none too happy about that. But good news comes suddenly, and Hazel steps forward to try and talk the situation down... only to be revealed to have actually been Oscar under the disguise of Emerald’s Semblance this whole time. She really is getting good at those illusions, it fooled Salem and was able to be cast on Jaune Ren and Yang at once. They are immediately much more happy to see Oscar alive and well, although the bear hug Jaune pulls him into might not help him heal any faster from the beatings he’s been getting. They still don’t know what to make of the fact that he was walking around with Emerald, and as soon as she makes a snippy remark they’re back on their guard. Oscar doesn’t quite know how to summarize everything that lead to this, but Yang insists someone give it a try. Emerald WAS the one who tricked her into “breaking” Mercury’s leg and becoming a public menace in Volume 3, she’s gonna need some good reasons to trust her now. Surprisingly, it’s Ren who has such an answer. Emerald is scared just like them, which would seem to show she is very much unhappy with being on this side of the fight and she wants to get out of this bad scenario. Em isn’t about to agree with that sort of admission of weakness, but she does have her own reason. She knows the way out, so if they want to leave they’ll all be leaving together. That’s enough to satisfy them for now, and they all get going.

They make it 90% of the way there, the ramping path down and out is just ahead of them... when Monstra starts pulsing and wailing. Emerald recognizes this influence, and she is frightened. The wall nearest to Oscar explodes, and Salem has arrived. She instantly takes stock of the situation, and deems Emerald the traitor in need of punishment for letting their prisoner out so she stretches her arms like my favorite rubber pirate and holds the poor thief closely with the intent to start that punishment immediately. She commends the girl for the improvements to her Semblance, but beneath the surface she is furious. Yang and Ren start shooting, and the fight with Salem has finally begun. She dodges the gunfire and responds with a beam of magic that Jaune jumps in the way to tank for Ren with his shield. They’re sent aback while Yang leaps in to unload a rapid volley of punches to Salem’s chest. A more baller move than punching this immortal witch in the titties, I never have seen. But that wasn’t all she did, she was actually leaving a bunch of sticky bombs that she jumps away and detonates all at once. Salem’s torso is blasted out of shape and she’s bending so far back you’d assume she’s the world’s greatest contortionist, but that doesn’t slow her down. She stretches out an arm to grab Yang tightly by the wrist and starts pulling her in as her chest starts to repair and reform at a rapid pace. Now it’s Oscar’s turn to attempt a rescue of his female companions, and he blasts some magic at Salem. Guess that fear of merging faster was kicked to the curb as soon as other people’s lives were on the line, and that’s pretty noble of him. But it’s a fairly weak blast, and Salem employs the classic strategy of hitting that motherfucker with another motherfucker by tossing Yang at him. Then she grows a bunch of Grimm arms from the floor to hold everybody down and leave them at her mercy. Emerald gets the special privilege of being held against a wall by some arms rather than on the ground, and is questioned on what she did with the Lamp. It’s missing, and Salem is dead certain Emerald is to blame despite her pleading insistence she hasn’t taken it and doesn’t know where it is now. Great job Neo, you made life that much harder for your former allies... Since Emerald isn’t offering any answers, Salem turns her attention to Oscar. At first it seems aloof and mysterious like before, but then she just lunges and grabs his face in anger. She’s mad that he keeps coming back to try and help this weak and selfish race instead of just letting her wreck it and end herself with the whole lot, as if he hasn’t already explained that he’s being forced to reincarnate by the gods she hates so much. But Yang is the one who snaps back, asking why Salem is so persistent. Sure, she had a tragic backstory and lost the love of her life. But that was thousands of years ago, she’s had plenty of time to get over it and move on. To grieve and accept Ozma was gone and be better. Instead she got pissed she couldn’t have her fairy tale ending and decided to make that everyone else’s problem. Salem has been the cause of almost every problem that has plagued Remnant since before the Great War, and Yang is calling her on it here and now. Go off, queen. Salem wonders just who Yang has lost to make her so indignant and so much more worthy of complaining and being the victim here than herself. Let’s list these losses, shall we?

Raven left home out of fear of Salem and her own hang ups with personal connections stemming from her upbringing (bandit lifestyle being so popular because there’s always towns to scavenge with Salem leading the Grimm)

Summer Rose is dead directly because of clashing with Salem

Pyrrha Nikos

Penny (she is back but there was still a lot of grieving on Ruby’s part and it had to affect Yang too)

About a dozen other Beacon students and visiting academy fighters at the Fall of Beacon, some of whom she probably got to know decently outside the ring and certainly respected as fighters in this defense effort

An arm because Adam was working under Salem and came to Beacon with vengeful intentions for Blake

About a year of PTSD nightmares flashbacks and involuntary fearful shaking

Her bond with Blake was fractured to hell and back because of the above incident, they’re damn lucky it was strong enough to be reforged with hard work and trust later

Now, some of those examples are a lot stronger than others, but they all affected her to some degree or another and all relate back to Salem. Naturally, she chooses the strongest example and says she lost her mom Summer Rose. This can be seen as throwing Raven under the bus as not being her mom in Yang’s eyes, but honestly after Volume 5 it just makes sense and it’s not like Raven would try to argue about it. Curiously, hearing Summer’s name just gives Salem a Cheshire Cat grin. I’m now realizing this is my second reference to that character in this review, but Alice in Wonderland is just that relatable here. Clearly she knows more than she’s letting on about Summer’s demise. Before we can get any more answers, Hazel arrives on the scene still playing the loyal subordinate role. Salem tells him she’s caught the traitor on their midst and he needs to take Oscar back to his room while she handles disciplining Emerald. He takes stock of all the kids trapped as he heads over to grab Oscar as asked, then pulls him in close to whisper “No more Gretchens, boy” in his ear. He suddenly drops him to ground again and turns to approach Salem. Oscar notices he was given his cane back when he wasn’t looking, and realizes what’s going to happen pretty quickly.

Salem holds a glowing ball of magic up to Emerald’s cheek with the implication that direct contac will be painful and possibly burning. Even under this threat of torture, Emerald has no answers and the fear of the seemingly inevitable brings her to tears. Lucky for her she gets a last minute save as Hazel runs up and sucker punches Salem, sending her flying a hundred feet through the air! She immediately recovers and starts flying before she can hit the ground, but the line in the sand has been drawn. As soon as she got sent flying the arms went away and all the kids were free to run away, which Hazel loudly yells for them to do as he rips his vest off and starts stabbing his shoulders and forearms with Dust crystals. Emerald lingers and wordlessly tries to talk him out of this, to run away with the rest of them. He just gives her a smile and turns towards his enemy. Salem asks if he really wants to turn his back on the path to vengeance she had promised him, and he responds that he’s instead choosing the righteous path his sister would have taken. Following her example is now the best way he can think to do right by her. So he’s gonna do that by using fire Dust to set his knuckle guards ablaze. She sends magic his way but the lightning Dust helps him quickly dodge and then he punches fireballs at her. He uses Revali’s Gale... I mean uses some air Dust to create an updraft and launch himself above her. He smashes some earth and fire Dust together to make a ball of spiky molten rock that he throws onto Salem and sends her crashing to the ground with an explosive impact. Then he just starts whaling on her, sending blood flying in 3 different directions and demolishing her upper body. But she makes more arms to hold him up in the air while she regrows her face. Emerald is still watching, not having moved an inch yet, but finally she decides retreat will be for the best. It’s why he’s doing this at all. Jaune seems to be doing a headcount as everyone runs past him, and realizes Oscar hasn’t left. He hasn’t made any moves to leave, in fact he seems like he’s getting ready to fight too. She’ll just keep coming after them at this rate, and Oscar seems to have a plan to change that. Salem shoots another magic beam at the now pinned Hazel, but he’s strong enough to pull against the arms and guard his exposed torso and put up a visible bubble shield of Aura. So she just tosses him away and immediately goes to where he landed and starts bashing his head into the ground. Oscar steadies his stance and readies his staff for whatever move this is gonna be. Salem notices and is ready to take him down before it can be ready, but Hazel continues to be a boss and gets her in a Full Nelson hold to keep her from going anywhere. She grabs his legs with a bunch of summoned arms, but it doesn’t discourage him. In a final act of vengeance, he bites down on a crystal of fire Dust he had popped into his mouth before grabbing her and they are both set on fire. She can’t escape his grip, and the fire seems like it’s hurting pretty bad. It’s only natural that they would reference the Salem Witch Trials by burning a witch named Salem, and I appreciate the idea very much. Oscar finishes charging up his staff for his attack, and Hazel gives him the go ahead. He knows this will kill him too, and he accepts that. It’s absolutely the same situation as Piccolo killing Goku and Raditz with the Makankösappö in the first arc of Dragon Ball Z, and that too is something I love to see. So Oscar puts up a magic shield and unleashes a blinding wave of golden light from the staff.

Fade to black.

Roll Credits.

8 notes · View notes

ackerslut · 3 years

Note

Hey!! Could you write something shippy about Boimler and Mariner? What if Boimler regularly spent time in the holodeck acting out certain scenarios and situations with Mariner? 👀

A/N: This was way angstier than I meant it to be. And way less sexier. I apologize in advance.

ao3

She glares at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. “What happened to having each other’s backs? I put my ass on the line for you. Repeatedly.”

He winces. This conversation is not going how he’d planned. “Mariner, I-”

Mariner clenches her fists and straightens. “No, you don’t get to say anything after what you pulled. Fuck you.”

The image freezes and Boimler resets the simulation.

What seems like years ago, he remembers lecturing Tendi overusing the Holodecks for fun. The details are fuzzy. It was before the “GUYS I MADE US INTO A MOVIE'' incident with Mariner, but after that weirdass thing with Rutherford and his rogue program. He thinks she and Mariner had been using it to watch Ransom in an array of—what he now admits-hysterical situations—but can’t be sure.

She and Mariner have gotten up to so much shit, he can’t keep track.

He doesn’t know why he’s remembering it now. It was a random conversation that happened a long time ago—a few months after Tendi was assigned to the Cerritos? –so there’s no reason why he should be thinking about it right now.

Liar, a smug voice intones in his head. It sounds vaguely like Mariner. Boimler aggressively shoves it down.

This isn’t for fun, he anxiously tells the voice in his head. The voice is quiet. It does nothing to soothe the turning of his stomach.

It’s been three months since Boimler requested a transfer back to the Cerritos. Three months since he’d run into Rutherford and Tendi on shore leave and the three of them got swept up into a ridiculous, interplanetary civil war that took three different starship crews to settle out. Three months since he’d almost died more times than he can count on all his fingers and toes, three months since he thought Tendi had died, miles away from her home, on a world which would never remember her name, three months since Mariner swept in and fixed everything.

It’s been three months.

Not that he’s counting.

Somewhere between being in a remote alien prison with Tendi and hiking for a month in a perpetually dark wilderness with Rutherford, Boimler had come to the belated conclusion that his career didn’t take precedence over his friends.

(Also, if he’s being completely honest, he missed the chaos of being a lower deck ensign. Not that he still doesn’t want to be in the upper ranks. Just not without his dumb, dumb friends.)

After it was all over—and he’d realized that Tendi was alive—he put in his transfer request, surprising all his peers.

“This just isn’t a good fit for me,” was his official statement.

Captain Riker gave him a bland look. “You worked with Beckett, didn’t you.” His voice was flat, but his eyes were amused.

“Is it that obvious?”

“She rubs off on people. Don’t let her give you a hard time,” he added, signing off on the request. “It was nice working with you, Boimler. If you ever need anything, let me know.”

And so here he is, a newly minted ensign again, on the lower decks of the Cerritos.

(Captain Freeman is thrilled. “All operations have been down by 18% since you left. Good to have you back, Boimler.”)

Tendi and Rutherford seem hyped to have him back-Tendi especially, who’s been a little clingy with everyone since her near-death experience-but are acting uncharacteristically nervous around him. This isn’t a surprise. The tension between him and Mariner when she’d shown up on Roxadt II was insane and was only getting worse with every day. It’s been six weeks since he’d transferred, and she’s found a reason to be in a different room for all six of them.

Hence the simulations.

That makes absolutely no fucking sense, the Mariner-esque voice in his head sneers. Just talk to her you fucking wimp.

Boimler ignores it.

“Scenario A-187,” the clinical voice of the simulation intones. The simulation restarts.

It goes exactly the same way 186 other scenarios had gone. He corners Mariner. She stays quiet. He apologizes. She explodes.

Mariner’s anger had always burnt red hot. He’d first experienced it when an ensign got a little frisky with Tendi after she’d repeatedly told him no. Mariner’s fury at the situation felt justified. Vindicated. The ensign had been demoted so hard, Boimler was certain they’d seen the last of him for like. Well, forever. At the time he’d been astonished that she’d managed to pull it off, but after finding out about her familial connection to the Captain, it made sense.

He’d seen a glimpse of that anger a few more times—when Captain Freeman had forced her to go to therapy, after Rutherford had been captured by rogue Klingons, that one-time Ransom tried to promote her. But never toward Boimler.

Oh, she’d get irritated with him. “Loosen up, Boimler, it’s not that bad.”

“Look, the worst that’ll happen is that we get a note to file-stop yelling!”

“Dude if you don’t chill the fuck out I might actually throw you out of an airlock.”

Standard Mariner reactions, right? Yeah, she’d been pretty pissed when he took the promotion (his voicemail had been blowing up for the first 48 hours after he transferred), but it had died down fairly quickly so he had logically assumed that she had gotten over it.

He assumed wrong. If her icing him out was to be taken into account. So here he was, six weeks in, desperate and stressed from his friend’s apparent dismissal. The obvious solution, his sleep deprived brain decided, was to simulate a conversation with her using his high-tech program on the holodeck.

This may have not been the best idea. But he’s calculated the probability of anything going wrong and it’s under 3%, so he’s almost guaranteed success.

(So, of course, it blows up in his face, in true Boimler fashion.)

“Okay, I have a pretty high threshold for weird, but this might take the cake,” a voice slowly says.

Boimler startles. Whirls around. Shuts down the simulation. “Ohhh shit-”

“Yeah shit,” Mariner says, stalking into the room. “What the hell, dude?”

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Boimler sputters out, panicked. The simulation is shut down, leaving them in the empty holodeck room, but the echoes of Holo-Mariner’s rage still resonate between them. Actual Mariner is staring at him, face somewhere between completely shocked and furious.

“Did you use your dumbass hyper realistic program to simulate a situation with me so that you could cheat later?”

“I mean, kinda?”

“Then it’s exactly what it looks like!” Mariner slaps a palm over her eyes.

“Well what was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know—maybe talk to me like a person? Not use your creepy, hyper realistic simulations to roleplay it?” She drops her hand and glares up at him.

Boimler rolls his eyes. “You literally created a simulation to kill the entire crew because your mom made you go to therapy.”

“Yeah and it fucking worked.”

“Then why are you yelling at me?!”

“I’m not!” she shrieks. “I’m very calmly telling you to fucking talk to me next time!”

“There’s not going to be a next time!”

Mariner stops, mouth open. “What?”

“Look, I get it. I fucked up and you apparently don’t do second chances! I was trying to make things right but clearly it isn’t working. I’ll stay out of your way now.”

Instead of pacifying her, this seems to make Mariner even more furious. “You fucking asshole. what am I supposed to say to that?” she shouts, stomping up to him.

He groans in exasperation. “Apparently nothing, considering you don’t want to talk to me!”

Her hands grab his collar, pulling him down to eye level with her. “I literally just said to talk to me next time!”

“And how was I supposed to do that if you’re avoiding me?”

“You’re the one who fucked off in the Titan to god-knows-where,” Mariner grits out.

So they’re actually doing this. Boimler swallows hard. Takes a breath. Tries to quell the anxiety welling in his gut. “I’m sorry.”

“Right after you said you didn’t care about rank or shit,” she adds, twisting the knife.

“Yeah. It was really shitty of me.”

“And then you ghosted me for like six months.”

Boimler winced. “Yeah—I. Yeah.”

Mariner’s iron grip on his shirt loosens, but she doesn’t let go completely. “That was really shitty of you.”

Not sure what to say, beyond apologizing again, Boimler gives a jerky nod.

“You came back.” She stares at him, eyes unfathomable. “The Titan wasn’t everything you dreamed it would be.”

It’s not a question.

Boimler still has an answer, though. “It was.”

She stiffens. He pushes forward, intent on getting this out while he still has her attention. “It was everything I wanted in a career. I was doing what I wanted, everyone took me seriously. Our missions came straight from the Admiralty and they treated us like we weren’t a joke. I loved it.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I care more about my friends then I do about people taking me seriously.”

Mariner freezes and then lets out a strangled laugh. “Now I think you’re the simulation. Who are you and what have you done with Boimler?” She pokes at his cheek.

He grins. And then falters. “For what it’s worth—and I know it’s not worth much—but. I am sorry. I wasn’t a very good friend.”

“Yeah you weren’t.” She lets go of her grip on his shirt completely and draws back. “You said you were my best friend and then you left. For Riker.”

“That makes me sound like the love interest in a cheesy drama. And like I’m hooking up with Riker.”

“I said what I said.”

Boimler laughs. It feels real for the first time in a long while. “Are we good?”

“No.” Mariner smiles. “I’m going to give you so much shit and you’re gonna grovel for like months and then I’m going to tell my mom that you used to holodeck to simulate certain situations with me.”

“If you do that I’m transferring back,” Boimler tells her. “Your mom finally likes me; I don’t need her ejecting me out of an airlock.”

“She wouldn’t do that.” Mariner waves him off.

“She totally would.”

“Yeah, she totally would,” she agrees. Grabs his arm and begins dragging him out of the holodeck. “So maybe I won’t tell her. I am telling Tendi though and she’s gonna give you so much shit considering you reemed her out over misusing the holodeck.”

Boimler makes a face. “I’ll probably let her too. I’m such a hypocrite.”

“You are, but it’s super weird to hear you be honest about it. Stop being all apologetic, it’s weird.”

They’ve reached the corridor. Mariner steers them in the direction of the bar. “Only if you promise to deck me if I ever make a dumb decision like that again,” he says, giving in and allowing himself to be manhandled. It’s the least he owes her.

“Deal. And the next time you use your weird, hyper realistic simulator—which doesn’t even fucking work by the way, I’m not that much of a bitch—you gotta promise you’ll use it for sexy reason only.”

“Sexy reasons only,” Boimler deadpans. “You know they log everything we do down there.”

Mariner wiggles her eyebrows up and down. “I know.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re uptight, but you’re the one who was playing with simulations of me.”

“That sounds way worse than it actually is,” he cringes.

“No, it doesn’t. I would take some sexy action over your sad, sad trauma simulations any day. Next time I catch you, you’d better be having fun with it.”

“Mariner, what the fuck—”

They dissolve into good natured bickering. She says something lewd and he rolls his eyes and elbows her and she squawks in protest and threatens to get him thrown in the brig. It’s normal, but it’s also not. There’s something new in the air between them that wasn’t there before. Tension, but not negative. It’s charged with. Something else.

Boimler doesn’t examine it too closely. Better to let it work itself out naturally. After all, he has all the time in the world now.

#star trek lower decks #marinler #beckett mariner #brad boimler #fanfiction #my fanfiction #lower decks #star trek lower decks fanfic #prompts #lofi writes

15 notes · View notes

infini-tree · 3 years

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💎 🍄 📒 🎤 🎁

fanfic writer ask game!

💎 fave trope to write?

its hard to really pin down tropes, per se but the idea of someone’s past self being essentially the polar opposite than what they present as now and the interplay of that does tend to crop up a lot.

the big cases of this is in kfp, it was oogway and his warlord past, in geah it was sam’s criminal past, and in cu it’s krupp and his prankster past in the sticky notes au. insert handshake meme here.

soothsayer has a minor case of this contrast, in which her pre-court days (or in generationswap’s case, her valley soothsayer days) she’s more uncertain and her mask of confidence slips up easier than it ever would in canon

there’s also themes of what you are (in terms of rank/purpose) and who you are. it crops up a lot in a lot of my oogway writing, and it transferred over to me writing cu

there’s also my favorite ‘the chill/nice character has had Enough and lets out an unexpected burst of anger/sadness/negative emotion that shocks everyone’

🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write?

writing at ungodly hours of the night so my usual inclination to nitpick at everything drops to the negative /j

but seriously? if i really want to explore a particular Thing, and i mean really want to there isn’t really a lot i can do to stop. in general, music helps, but it has to be at a low enough volume to not be distracting enough because otherwise i will start pacing in time to the rhythm

📒any fics planned?

most of its sticky notes and i’ve pretty much talked everyone’s ear off it but:

bootstrap (working title): sticky notes au time travel plot. i basically have the outline and a good chunk of scenes done, but unfortunately pranks are not my strong suit

(pending title): the alien invasion plot for the sticky notes au. i am bad at writing the stuff in the middle

in those days, part 3: aka shot, aka has anyone figured out the naming theme of the chapters

bukesiyi part 14: aka, fight scenes are hard and its been 2 years

a whole bunch of smaller sticky notes au drabbles that in some cases might as well be genfic for cu, no au strings attached

🎤fave line in a fic you wrote?

from just once:

Death had taken away his titles, its meanings and weight until all that was left was him. Just Oogway. Just an Island tortoise that somehow landed in China and got caught up in everything. If he had to be honest, after centuries of filtering himself in front of crowds of people, the act of talking about his own feelings was both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying.

🎁 have a quote from a WIP?

The boy’s brow quirked up in curiosity, before narrowing in suspicion. Between the messy mop of hair and sweater collar covering half his face, it was difficult to get a read on him.

“…So you aren’t gonna beat me up,” he said warily.

#ask #'just once' is old but i still like how i wrote oogway in it

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bethygauw · 4 years

Text

Mahoyaku Interview: Tsushimi Bunta (Main Screenwriter) and Kazuma Kowo (Worldbuilding Supervision) + Coly Scenario Director

Released: 28 February 2020

(!) Warning (!): Some spoilers for Main Story chapter 17 towards the end of this post.

TL note: I feel like going by surname-given name in this article;;; pardon the inconsistency Also support the fab fan translation site if you haven’t already: https://mahoyaku-eng.com/

Blurb: This is a world where mages and humans coexist, and this is a story that depicts the journey to save it—brought to you by screenwriter Tsushimi Bunta, known for their subtle writing style that retains a realistic touch, and Kazuma Kowo, who oversees not only character background but also the worldbuilding of each country, among other things. In this issue, we’ve asked what sort of things they were being mindful of during the game’s creation and if there are any behind-the-scenes that they could share. In addition, we’ve also included a few comments from the scenario director, who’s in charge of bringing together all story elements in this game from the Main Story to Training Location stories. We hope you enjoy everything that Promise of Wizard has to offer as you play through it.

Tsushimi Bunta: Freelance screenwriter. Main scriptwriter of Idolish7 as well as the author of the novel adaptations. In this game, they’re in charge of writing the Main Story, Training Location stories, and Event Stories among others.

Kazuma Kowo: Manga-ka and illustrator. Representative works include Junsui Adolescence (Ichijinsha Inc.), Dear Tear (Hakushensha Inc.), and Hinemosu Futari (Takeshobo Co., Ltd.). In this game, they’re in charge of worldbuilding supervision.

----- * * * -----

Part 1: Interview with Tsushimi Bunta (Main Screenwriter) and Kazuma Kowo (Worldbuilding Supervision)

Q: How did you get involved in the development of Promise of Wizard?

I got my first offer around five years ago, but I had to decline because I was already working on something else. They’ve continued to contact me a number of times since then, and then finally the right chance came along. There was the worldbuilding, and then the management and creation of character setting sheets that would shape their sets of values et cetera, which seemed to be a lot for me to handle. That’s why I asked Kazuma-san to help us out. We made games together in the past.

Q: Kazuma Kowo-san is in charge of worldbuilding supervision. Together, the two of you came up with the mages’ world as well as the story. What sort of discussions did you guys have when you were creating the character setting for the wizards as well as the world construct?

We decided on the fantasy genre, but it can range from fairytales to light novel stuff to something as massive as high fantasy. We started from discussing what extent would attract the audience’s attention the most. We talked over and over about it, and in the end, we moved forward with the idea of the countries having their own fantasy taste. We had Kazuma-san sort which wizard into which country first, and then we made adjustments over time. Oz was in the North at first, for example, and then there was Figaro in the Central country. Shino was more reserved, Heath was the flirt, whereas Leno was someone ruthless. Then we figured we should be finalising the characters that would be “the face” of each country first, so that people can remember the characteristics of each country more easily. These are Arthur, Murr, Shino, Rutile, and Mithra. Things that have wizards and witches vibe such as precious stones, stars, plants, fortunetelling, incense, books—a lot of these things are what girls usually like, so we tried to be brave and implement as much as we could.

Q: How did you develop the personality and other characteristics of each wizard from each country? Was there anything you paid attention to in particular when creating these wizards?

The central country has wizards with heroic qualities, so they lean more towards heroes, leaders, and priests. The Western country’s qualities stress on the eccentricity, the bizarre, and entertainment, so they have themes like the Cheshire Cat and Halloween. The Japanese equivalent would be the kitsune foxes and the shapeshifting tanuki racoons. The East has wizards that are gothic, dark and gloomy with melancholic feel to them. The Southern wizards are like the Fairy Godmother from Cinderella. They're good at helping others, honest, and pastoral. The Northern wizards’ image is like a demon lord or great witches who rule over humans—the power type that screams horror.

Q: In this game, wizards have powers that humans don’t have. Because of it, humans rely on them and they adore them. But, there are also occasions where the wizards are feared and detested. You’re depicting not only the “cool wizards”, but also the gap between the wizards and humans. There are also characters who have power but suffer and feel lonely because of it. I think things like that are what makes this game charming, but was there anything you were being mindful of in the process of writing that sort of aspect?

I don’t want to make the loneliness that the wizards feel to be theirs alone. Instead, I want the players to feel something similar, seeing as we all live in a society. I think anyone who lives in a society feels that they “want to be understood” or “want to understand [others]”. But at the same time, they also feel some sort of indignation where they “don’t want to be understood” or want to say “don’t you dare think you’ve understood”. I want the players to take any of these emotions and observe from the wizards’ point of view. I want them to let their imagination expand and enjoy themselves that way.

Q: Many of the wizards’ incantations are phrases that we’re unfamiliar with. I believe a lot of fans have put a lot of thinking into figuring out the meanings and the origin. How did you come up with these incantations?

In regards to incantations, I had Kazuma-san take the wheel. We had it in katakana so that it reads more smoothly in text, but we also adjusted it as we prioritise things like how easy it is to pronounce and for people to catch it. The impression you get from these incantations (sounds powerful, weak, ominous, or it’s still too early for you, et cetera), and how powerful they actually are—we have it all ranked and organised, so it would be nice if it shows one at a time.

Q: Was there anything about the “fantasy parallel universe” genre and the “relationship between wizards and the sage” you find to be the reason why you can deliver particular ideas? Was there anything you found interesting during the writing process?

I actually had to restrain my thinking process because I had to remind myself that I’m writing fantasy, so it’s like I can’t include things that are normal and already exist in the real world. Even if I come up with a good idea, I’ll end up thinking that it’s a little too normal and then it gets scrapped.

Q: The existence of the previous sage who doesn’t put on airs and has an approachable personality becomes one of the attention-grabbing elements in the storyline. In your mind, what sort of character is the previous sage?

A white-collar worker who works at an exploitative company. They can say pretty irresponsible things to the mages and amuse themselves with it. But they also get scared simply from scary things, and they have the boldness to say something selfish.

Q: Please tell us, if there are any, things that seem trivial but it’s something that you were being particular about during the process of writing the Main Story. These can include scenes, specific lines, or portrayal of something.

The same goes for the Main Story and the Sub Stories, but I want people to feel excited and let them imagine all sorts of things. I always have that in mind and that’s why I’ve added lots of details into the setting. “If I were a mage”, “If I were a citizen of this country”, “Which country would my friends come from”, “What does this taste like”, “What are their previous love stories like, and what’s their life been like until now”... I think being able to have so much freedom in imagination is what the real pleasure of the fantasy genre is. I hope it’s become a world that allows the players to indulge themselves in daydreaming.

Q: Lastly, please leave a message to all fans who are out there supporting Promise of Wizard.

Thank you for playing the game! It’s pretty much my first time writing fantasy, so right until it was released, my heart kept pounding thinking if it would really count as fantasy… But I’m so happy that a lot of people are having fun with the story! Please continue your support for Promise of Wizard from now on too!

----- * * * -----

Part 2: Interview with Mahoyaku’s Scenario Director

Q: How did you make this job offer to Tsushimi Bunta-san? What is it about Tsushimi-san’s works and writing style that makes it charming to you?

Right around the early stages of the establishment of our company, Coly, one of their past works touched my heart. Their script writing ability was so mind-blowing that I thought I just had to make this offer. In the end, that also instigated Kazuma-sensei’s involvement, and that’s how we got them to help us out as well. I think one of the things that make Tsushimi-sensei’s work charming is the universally relatable characters, the writing that makes the reader want to cheer the characters on, as well as a whole new world that they bring to the readers. Tsushimi-sensei has the ability to transform unsaid feelings and unwritten motions into breathtaking scenes. Sometimes, trivial dialogues can depict genuine feelings within human hearts, like that of a child’s. You can feel through the writing affection and gentle point of views towards those in a weaker position.

Q: The setting of this game involves the main character who suddenly wandered into another world where mages live. Then, they became the “sage” who gather up the wizards and guide them. How did you decide on what the story was about and which direction it was going?

We had the people in our company come up with several ideas and we went through them to see which ones had and hadn’t already been used in regards to the fantasy parallel universe genre, which was the direction we were going with. From there, we ended up with a story where the sage, someone who wandered into another world, and wizards fight together. We don’t want you to forget reality. Instead, we want you to enjoy it even more. We want to bring a world that gives you courage and positive energy, and we want to deliver the wizards’ world that’s blinding, mysterious, and exciting.

Q: Could you tell us a scene or a line from the main story that’s particularly memorable for you? And why as well, if possible.

Every scene in the main story is memorable for me, so to be honest with you, it’s really hard to pick one. But I was particularly driven in the execution of Chapter 17’s “Rustica’s Request”, so I cherish it a lot. It’s something that Rustica said to Chloe, who was tearing up silently as his feelings were hurt, “That’s because there’s only one of it in this world. This is something that only you can make.” It’s a sweet line, one that will always stay close to you and give you warmth. It may sound cheesy, but no matter how many times you read it, it echoes through in every corner of your heart.

#spoon2di #mahoyaku #staff

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boku-no-loveletters · 4 years

Note

Hello!! Could I get a match up with the league villains?🥺 I’m 170cm tall, I’m skinny (sadly I’m shaped like the letter I and rll self conscious ab it) I have shoulder length brown hair with two blonde stripes in the front, grey eyes. I’m a mix of a calm and logical person and a childish person with dumb jokes who can’t even sit still. I luv playing video games, reading, drawing. I usually wear dark oversized clothes or baggy pants with small tops. I’m european so my accent is rll thicc.Thank u!

Hey, what’s up? Hope you enjoy your match-up!

I matched you up with…

Shigaraki!

He's feral but I loved him since the beginning

-Now there are actually multiple reasons as to why I matched you up with Shigaraki, one of them being the fact that you are calm and logical but still allowing yourself to be loose and crack a few jokes sometimes. I think Shigaraki would respect that and probably admire your humor.

-Being calm and logical around Shigaraki is important, because he has very heavy mood-swings and being able to keep your composure if he switches dispositions will earn his approval. And while that is important, Shigaraki would probably also enjoy a carefree soul, so if you have the tendency to slip a dirty joke in on a conversation and make him crack a smile then you’re on the right path.

-The chances of you and him running into each other would either be by pure chance or an unintended every day occurrence. He could be a casual looking citizen who you have no idea is walking around in the streets with other people or he could be the one who was responsible for holding you captive. In an accident.

Well shit.

This is how it ends, huh? Being restrained in a villain warehouse where nobody will find you after they strip you of your skin and throw you out the door faster than you could say ‘sorry’?

Not to mention, earlier you kept thinking that nothing bad was going to happen today. That everything was going to be sugar and rainbows, that it was all going to be fine. But you were oh, so wrong.

"You fucking jinxed it, you idiot," you growled to yourself before attempting to slam the large and heavy cuffs on your wrist down on the metal chains dangling from your ankle.

But it didn’t budge, you reeled back the both of your wrists and tried again, still to no avail.

To be honest, you had absolutely no idea as to why you were being held here in this crappy makeshift hideout against your will. One minute, you were simply walking out of your apartment going to get some much-needed groceries from the store, and the next thing you know, you're being stabbed with a needle in your neck before blacking out completely.

Snarling in disappointment, you took a deep breath and then slumped down to your knees with your back facing the wall. After your little endeavor at trying to break free, your body temperature flared up and made you more heated up than normal. You must be getting sick or something because it was either you or the bands on your wrist making you burn up!

But the metal of the room surrounding you was unusually cold and so you used that to your advantage and turned gently, making sure to press as much skin to the wall as you could. The chilled and smooth surface helped immensely as you felt the searing hot sensation fade away.

You sat for a moment, feeling a wave of drowsiness hit your senses as you continued to be still.

How long have you been out? Would it be appropriate if you were to fall asleep again? Well, it's not like you were going anywhere soon and it certainly didn't feel like it was going to harm you if you got any sleep.

So you did. You closed your eyes deliberately before shifting into a more comfortable position and getting some well-earned sleep, hoping to have some sort of good dream before dwelling into your death.

But unfortunately, your time had come sooner than expected. Because as immediately as you tried to gain some repose, a soft click could be heard echoing across the room as the door unlocked to reveal a pale hand lightly opening the large ingot door leading to the entrance.

The pale hand followed up to unveil the shape of a man dressed in a plain black trench coat and tacky dress pants with multiple detached hands on different parts of his clothed limbs. Three were seated on each arm and his shoulders had one individually while his neck and the back of his head had one apiece. The most interesting one, however, was the single hand obscuring his identity from your view.

You could see he was dangerous. Not just because of the limbs, but rather the ominous demeanor he held over his presence and the fact that he seems fully aware of your current situation.

Not long after he had walked in was he followed by two other figures. One was a male with jet-black hair in another simple black jacket and matching pants with various amounts of marks and staples decorating his scarred body and the other was a shorter female. Her ash-blonde hair was loosely wrapped in twin buns, strands of wild stray hairs centering in different angles as two fringes on each side of her face framed her oddly innocent looking appearance as she donned a plain seifuku with a regular Kansai collar.

The greyish-blueish haired male mentioned beforehand was staged in the center of the room and the two other people, which you assumed to be his associates, positioned themselves each on one side of him.

Silence enveloped the room, the heavy steps of their shoes coming to a stop as they gained sight of your poor, slightly hunched figure.

He then clasped his hands behind his back before turning, what you thought to be, his gaze to the other walls. His back faced you as his accomplices kept their eyes fixed on you, watching your every movement so that you didn’t aim to escape.

“So, ” he began, “Do you know why you were brought here for?”

You shook your head no as you tried to keep your cool, already feeling the tension in the room rise by the minute. The burning sensation from a while ago returned and grew from warm to nauseating as it quickly surrounded your senses. Sweat began dripping down your forehead as your stomach did reoccurring backflips.

You could almost feel the other two burn their eyes into your torso, internally gnawing at your emotions despite their placid expressions.

He simply hummed before returning his sight on you, his hands still not leaving their positions as he took a few strides in your direction and stopped a couple of centimeters away from your feet.

You lifted your head to gape directly at the hand covering his face and from the side of your perception, you could make out a pair of piercing blood-red orbs. The wicked glint in his eyes threatening to make you lose your composure, as he then backed away to give you some space. Much to your relief as you released a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You internally quivered as you let your gaze drop to the floor before hearing a heavy sigh of what appeared to be..frustration?

"There has appeared to have been a mistake made. You are not whom I intended to be after." he finally spoke, the stillness after was deafening.

"The idiots out there must have grabbed the wrong woman," he emphasized, " A woman with brunette hair, just like you."

You raised your head and suddenly put up the largest grin you could muster at the moment. Your whole dampened attitude instantly lighting up at the possibility to live another day and forget all about this encounter.

"But, another problem strikes the current situation at hand. We simply can't let you free and go off telling another hero about our location, " he defined as your smile began to falter.

"So we'll give you three options. We'll let you go scot-free and you keep your mouth shut while my subordinates check in on you from time to time, you join the league free of surveillance and a life free of heroes, or you die at the hands of my comrades?"

"Wait...You're giving me a choice? For real?" you questioned, "You're not just going to kill me?

"No, I am not, " he answered, "Why would I? It'd be a waste and sweeping up the ashes of another dead person and concealing the evidence is enough work already."

You shivered in fear but still hummed in agreement, yet slightly suspicious of this man's intentions but not willing or bold enough to question his motives. So you went with the safest alternative, they let you go and kept an eye on you while you continued to live out your daily life in semi-peace.

"The first choice," you replied confidently. "I don't want to be involved in you guy's problem and I'm sure the other option is self-explanatory, Mr. Handyman."

He simply chuckled dryly in response to your joke before looking at you once more and snapping his fingers, then everything went black.

-You were knocked out, again. Though the next time you woke up, you found yourself in your living room laying on the couch unharmed. You checked you wrists to find that the cuffs of your restraints left a mark deep in your skin as it burned a bright sweltering red. You didn’t notice a bright piece of yellow paper sticking to your chest until you brushed your fingers over your collarbone. A neon lemon sticky note was attached to your shirt, you ripped it off and examined it closely. It said…

-Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open, we’ll be watching you.

-And so you didn’t really sleep that night because of both the LOV and the fact that you had taken more than the usual amounts of naps you were prone to take during your free time. But other than that you continued on with your life and moved on, almost forgetting your previous encounter with the S rank villain.

-The next time you had met him was when he arrived about a month later and by that time you had nearly forgotten all about what happened back there. So when he came to check up on your status and making sure you weren’t attempting to leave the country, he was surprised to find you living comfortably with no sign of your apartment faltering and in poor conditions.

-He knocked and waited patiently, his casual black hood and oddly bright red sneakers helped concealed his identity as he stood still. He had imagined that you thought that you were being left along, that you would trembled beneath his gaze again. But when you opened the door to reveal yourself, you just stared at him.

-You stood there trying to remember who this man was, but he didn’t say anything and instead pushed you aside and made himself at home. He walked to your living room and plopped himself on the couch before removing the hood from his head.

- “Oh, yeah Mr.Handyman”

-You didn’t say anything and instead switched the TV on. You sat down next to him as you felt his eyes burn holes into your back.

-And that’s how it went on for weeks, Shigaraki would always come up to your place to ‘Check and make sure you’re not alerting anyone’ and basically just hang out. The probability of him actually getting comfortable would take somewhere around 2-3 months once he realizes you’re not a threat.

-He won’t even do that much except lounge around and play video games with you, it’s not that villainous except for when he threatens you.

-I think that Shigaraki would enjoy playing video games with you as long as you let him win sometimes. He’s extremely petty so if you won three times in a row and haven't let him get in on a victory , he’ll probably make a fuss about it and not play for awhile. If you’re drawing or reading and not paying attention to him, that’ll probably get on his nerves a little bit too.

-He’s a dick. And yes, that’s something to worry about.

-Love…what is that? Sounds disgusting. Shigaraki is not that emotionally intelligent due to the fact that he had been deprived of tenderness the majority of his childhood so having someone act normal around him and unintentionally be kind to him makes him feel…weird. He doesn’t understand what the warm feeling in his chest is and why it makes him stir.

-You can make him crack a smile. You can make him laugh with your corny jokes and lift up his spirit after a bad day. He doesn’t know what it is, but he likes it and wants all of it.

-So the next time he had come in, he had told you about what kind of odd effect you had on him as he described it in the most surreal way he could say it. When you explained the feelings to him, you had also suggested dating to which he agreed after he had a proper grip on what he had just been told.

-Now Shigaraki has not received a lot of affection from his family during his childhood, only his mother and sister has provided him with physical endearment so that will obviously have an impact on his behavior now that he realizes how touch-starved he’s been.

-He will not however, under no circumstances, put his hands on you unless the situation calls for it or you gave him permission to. He does not want the same incident to happen to his significant other as it did his family. That’s the reason why he starts slightly trembling, which could be indicating a panic attack (as I imagined him to have a handful of episodes already.

-So If that happens, then you’d have to use your rationality and be careful. Get his special gloves and calm him down through the emotional episodes.

-I don't think the rest of LOV would mind you, Dabi wouldn't care about you at all but would still keep an eye on you while Toga and Twice ;-; would make small talk with you.

-So Shigaraki and you are more than a perfect fit, your personality traits don’t exactly clash but instead pick up where another one falls down! Your decisiveness and rationality along with your humor and liveliness helps balance you on the scale whereas Shigaraki’s standoffish and aloof position keep you both on your feet.

So I hope you liked this match-up! Writing the clip for this one was fun!

@idontknowuwu3

#Shigaraki Tomura #Tomura Shigaraki #bnha #mha #mha match-ups

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sauceyafterdark · 4 years

Note

YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS, PLEASE, I NEED SOME FOZZER X MARVUS IN MY LIFE, maybe some headcanons for how you think they first met or something along those lines,,,, please,,,, I need the communistclown ;0;

BABY I GOT YOU!!! I’m so down. This one has less explicit themes than what one would typically expect out of this blog, but I’m writing it anyway because why the fuck not. So strap in my lovelies for some of that good CommunistClown.

---

It all starts when Marvus gets curious. His concerts always have such a high body count, but where do they all go? I mean, they all get disposed of in a mass grave, but where specifically do they all end up? So, one day he follows the corpse collection drone and ends up at the Happy Absence Pit Park.

Obviously he’s a little intrigued by the singular guy seemingly burying thousands of bodies of dead trolls. He’s dedicated, Marvus gives him that. But the part that really gets this juggalo is just how… efficient he is.

Like, seriously, damn can this little red guy move. Hefting up dirt and tossing in limp gray husks one right after another. The way his large arms flex just slightly when he pierces the earth or when he carries an exanimate bronzeblood to the ever growing deluge of cadavers… Oh yeah, Marvus can watch this all day.

Fozzer, on the other hand, is less impressed initially. He doesn’t really mix with the music of the masses. He prefers anthems of the working class; things with a nice defined pace to work along with. Even if he did listen to Marvus’ music, however, he still wouldn’t be a fan. The highblood cult is just another institution set up by the Fuschia Devil to enforce the status quo. Don’t be lulled in by their sugary, fizzy words, comrade!

Fozzer just brushes off the clown, wanting to play off his labor as a duty he performs for the system. Utter hogwash, but that’s what highbloods of the system love hearing. Except, to Fozzer’s surprise, Marvus isn’t buying any of it.

“lmao, if ur gunna go bust my bulge wit a big pile of hoofbeast shit, at least try to sound convincing”

That is definitely not what he was expecting. Fozzer is more than a little shocked. The rustblood doesn’t quite know how to respond at first, opting instead to look Marvus over. He gives the troll a second look over, and, well… Marvus is a pretty handsome guy. Even if he is a high ranking man in a system that abuses the underclass.

Okay so maybe the broad and pillowy chest is also drawing his gaze, but the man may as well not have a top half to his shirt with how much of his chest seems to want to spill out.

Fozzer then decides to give a more honest response: “Personally_I_think_the_cult_of_the_highbloods_is_just_another_means_of_shitting_on_working_class_comrades.”

Marvus agrees. He agrees very much. Fozzer and him get to talking, with the rust a bit more hesitant to open up at first. Eventually though, the two are swapping notes on Trizza’s eventual inheritance of the system, how she will keep the status quo and effectually make everything worse, and more importantly how clowns may just be the most oppressed comrades of all.

Of course, they also notice other things about each other.

Marvus notices the way Fozzer’s teeth make him give slight whistles on his S’s, or how his words seem punctuated with a certain amount of depth and conviction. He notices, of course, more about those amazing arms, but also sneaks a few peaks of the soft muscles under those overalls. He notes Fozzer is a little chubby in the stomach area, but contrastingly very built in his upper body and his legs. That juxtaposition makes Marvus think that maybe he should let more working class rustbloods to the front row. He wouldn’t mind getting mauled by drippingly horny fans if they looked as good as the little dialectical materialist.

Fozzer notices the way the clown’s smirk lifts every time they border on finishing each other’s sentences. Obviously, Fozzer would never entertain the idea of filling a quadrant of any kind with somebody he has yet to vet for the revolution, but my goodness if he doesn’t want to speed up that vetting process once he sees the graceful movements of the juggalo’s hips as he balances his weight on that disgustingly opulent cane. The way Marv’s fingers grip the purple glass at the top, always powerful but still elegant in their way… It makes Fozzer want to see what other ways those fingers can move, preferably with this clown on a leash and with his sheathe plugged. Entirely to prevent any extra funny business, he notes in his mind.

The two eventually have to part. Fozzer is dirty, sweaty, and in desperate need of a shower in his small mausoleum home, while Marvus is more concerned with getting home and keeping out of the sun that rises dangerously close over the horizon.

They agree to meet again though. Back at the park. Just so Fozzer can have some company to work.

“besides its not like i gotta be working @ my stage or studio or w/e. i can hang here with u”

A few visits is all it takes for Fozzer to invite the clown to his shack. And, Marvus being Marvus, it takes literally moments before that aforementioned collar is brought out.

#communistclown #fozzer velyes #hiveswap fozzer #marvus xoloto #hiveswap marvus #marvus x fozzer #headcanon #anon

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lbashes · 4 years

Text

PREVIOUS (x) (x)

The moment Sylvain's feet touch the earthy training grounds, Felix throws a spear at him, and Sylvain fears if he didn't pick it up, it might just have left a scar or two.

Felix picks a sword made of wood because they're training and the teachers refuse to hand them metal ones, but Sylvain knows quite well it doesn't mean he won't get out of here without bruises.

“You're really determined, aren't you?” Sylvain jokes, or at least tries to, so this awkward atmosphere can be dispersed. “Told you I'm–”

Sylvain steps aside, blocking Felix's sword with the spear's shaft.

“What are yo–”

“Less talking, more fighting.” Felix jumps back, then runs toward him again, and it takes all Sylvain's strength to push him away this time.

“I thought you brought me here to talk?”

Felix smiles playfully, “Well, I did want to spare with you too.”

Sylvain scoffs, raising his spear toward Felix, but with a swing of his sword, Sylvain is sent down on the ground, his spear flying away.

“So? What's with you?”

Sylvain groans. It's a rule they set, long ago, when they were kids and upset about everything, that if one of them lost, he must remain honest; and Sylvain hates it, because he keeps losing.

“I'm fine,” Sylvain holds his tongue, rubbing his head, until he's surprised with the tip of a sword under his chin, and cold sweat running down his spine.

“I–” He tries, looking away, “It's just–” but quickly gives up, his hand falling to the ground. “I don't want you to get married.”

Sylvain did not realize how much he hated the idea until the words came out of his mouth, resigned and full of spite.

Felix whistles. “That much?”

“Yeah.” Sylvain sighs, pushing the sword away with his bare hand, and Felix lets him. “Why do you even do it? You never listened to your old man. When Glenn and Ingrid's engagement came up and your father tried to find someone for you to marry as well, you ran away and hid in the gardens for the whole day.”

“This day, you only came out because I found you. So why now?”

Felix lowers his sword, dispirited.

“Because my father brought it up again and Glenn isn't here anymore.”

He walks away, to the other side of the training grounds where Sylvain's spear disappeared, turning his back to him. “And I can't marry Ingrid, because I can't do that to her, so I have to find someone else. House Fraldarius isn't in a bad situation, but the tensions between nobles won't stop just because Dimitri ascends to the throne, we have to solidify our position.”

Felix hands Sylvain the spear as soon as he returns, “Of course, it doesn't matter for you. Your house has a good reputation and its title is equivalent to a prince, or a duke at least. You'll be fine even without marriage.”

Sylvain doesn't know why, but the words sting. What does he know of him? What right does he have to assume he doesn't want to get married?

“And what if I want to?” He asks, his clenched fist trembling around the shaft.

Felix blinks, surprised. “Well, then you won't have any problem finding you a good suitor.”

Sylvain grips his spear tighter, pushes Felix away, takes advantage of the effect of surprise to hit him in the ribs.

Felix reacts, but not soon enough, and the blow hurts enough for him to lose sight of Sylvain, only for a brief moment.

Sylvain throws his spear away, is left only with his fists, which is a blessing to him, he's been wanting to punch Felix since he first heard of this whole engagement thing. Sylvain grabs him by the collar, punches him in the face and Felix trips, grabs Sylvain's clothes as well, bringing him down with him.

They fight like cat and dog, rolling in the dirt in a mess of groaning limbs, until Sylvain pines Felix down, firmly holding his arms against the ground.

“You're wrong.” He whispers in a panting breath, with scratches on his face and knuckles. “Those who approach me, I don't want them. Women have only eyes for my crest and men desire for my rank. There's no one.”

Except you, he wants to say. But he's not brave enough.

Felix breathes heavily, looking into Sylvain's saddened eyes. He can feel his grip tightening around his wrists, hurting his bones, but says nothing of it.

“Even us?” He tries, because he's known him for so damn long, because Sylvain has been a too grand part of his life to only be called a friend. “What about our comrades? Do you think they'd only be after your crest too?”

Sylvain doesn't answer. Instead, he says he only knows the three of them well, which is the same as saying except them three, he doesn't trust anyone.

“What about the boar? Or Ingrid?”

Sylvain laughs at him. “Dimitri will be king.”

“So?” Felix raises a brow. “Even better. Your rank is lower than his. Problem solved.”

“I– No. Not Dimitri.”

“And Ingrid…” Sylvain shakes his head. Definitely not Ingrid. “We wouldn't be a good match; you know we are as close as brother and sister.”

Felix bites his tongue, tries to talk, but thinks better of it. He has long given up on this possibility.

But when he sees the light in Sylvain's eyes, so lost, almost begging, Felix starts to hope, that maybe, maybe Sylvain wants to reach for him.

“What about me then?” He says, both relieved and dreadful of the answer who is to come.

However, against his hopes, Sylvain shuts down. Lets go of Felix's wrists, stands on his two feet, clenched fists and back turned to him.

“You're getting engaged.” He mumbles, the sole thought of Felix offering a ring to someone else is enough to make his blood boil in his veins.

And before Felix can say anything, Sylvain runs away.

Felix watches him leave, pain vividly printed on his face, torn between resignation and the idiotic hope that after all these years, Sylvain would look his way.

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #sylvain gautier #felix fraldarius #a margrave's proposal #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #the next AMP prompts are gonna be very long #I just wrote 3k words for it so yes you may say I'm deep down in love with these guys #also half of it was just Ingrid and Sylvain being disasters together

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