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lumelii · 3 years

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THANK YOU ~|~ NANAMI X FEM!READER

Summary: Tensions are high in the Nanami household. Outside influence (and bribery) are needed.

Content warnings: slight angst, child-parent relations, singledad!Nanami

Note: This is my first fic on this blog, so let me know what you think! Big thanks to Moni for beta-reading this for me <3

word count: 2.0k

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“I hate you!”

Nanami couldn’t stop his flinch as Yuuji slammed the door to his room behind him. He didn’t have the energy now to scold him for slamming his door. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh and walked back down their small hallway to the living room to collapse on the couch. The bottle of whisky safely locked away in the cabinet above the fridge called to him but he resisted the urge. When Yuuji finally came out, he wanted to be completely sober so they could sit down and talk this out.

He could have left the apartment right now, found Gojou, and throttled him after choking him on those concert tickets. Whatever had possessed him to think two twelve-year-old boys could go out by themselves in the middle of the night to the show of a band whose music was far too mature for them anyway, Nanami didn’t know, and he guessed Toji didn’t know about it either. Otherwise the idea wouldn’t have left the Fushiguro house.

As soon as Yuuji had seen those tickets, it was the only thing he could talk about, filling their daily walk home from his school with his excited chatter. Nanami listened as intently as he could while trying to push all thoughts of work out of his head, putting all focus on his son. But when he heard just what band the boys were planning on seeing, the conversation had deteriorated to the point where Yuuji had begun yelling at his father, uttering those final three words before entombing himself in his room.

Nanami had resisted the pull to argue right back with Yuuji, but a thirty-something year old man arguing with his twelve-year-old son was downright ridiculous, and he had to take the high road in situations like this. Even despite his outburst, Nanami would not budge. Yuuji wouldn’t be allowed to go to the concert, and he would go so far as to call Toji and suggest he do the same with Megumi. He wasn’t afraid to be the bad guy if it meant his family was safe.

A sudden knock startled him from his reflection to look at the front door. He wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by, and he hadn’t buzzed anyone into the apartment. His heart quickened unwillingly at the rising probability of who it could be.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally opened the door and saw you, his very sweet, very attractive next-door neighbor standing there, a smile crossing your face when he finally appeared. He tried not to focus on how your shirt clung perfectly to your curves, or your jeans, though stained with something he guessed was peanut butter, emphasized your small waist and shapely legs. Your dog helped him focus, distracting him from your form as he curiously watched it lick a spot of peanut butter from your jeans.

“Sorry, he snuck out the door with me as I was leaving.” Your smile grew sheepish as you held up a plate filled with treats. “Sounded like you both were having a rough day. But I guess now’s not the best time?”

“No, please, come in.” Nanami stepped aside and allowed you and your companion to enter. “We’ve just had a long day.”

The large dog plodded down the apartment’s small hallway and stopped at Yuuji’s door, pawing at it once with a whine. The door opened just enough for the animal to slip through before it slammed shut again.

“Is everything alright?” The look of genuine concern on your face made his heart tighten just for a moment while you sat on the couch together. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, he’s upset I won’t let him go to the Raising Dead concert with Megumi by themselves.” Nanami sighed. “Unless I change all my beliefs in the next week, he still won’t be going.”

“Raising Dead?” Your eyes went unimaginably wide. “My mom wouldn’t let me even see them when I was 18. They’re a little…mature aren’t they? For someone Yuuji’s age? How did he even hear about them?”

“Exactly why I won’t allow him to go.” Nanami pointed out. “His best friend Megumi got the tickets from his,” he paused for a moment to consider how he could explain the relationship, “uncle. I guess they listen to the band together.”

“Well, I think you’re making the right decision, not that my opinion matters.” Your smile was soft as you rested a hand on his arm, making his skin burn in your wake. “I heard they rip heads off of chickens at their concerts.”

Your opinion is the only one that matters. He bit back the words and cleared his throat, shifting so your hand fell off his arm, but your touch still lingered. “It doesn’t change the fact that Yuuji is upset with me. He wanted the opportunity to go with his friend, and I stopped him from doing that.”

You considered this, looking toward the door to Yuuji’s room. “Do you want me to try to talk to him?”

“He’s pretty upset. Do you think he’d want to talk to you?”

“I could try. I had an overprotective parent too.” You grinned as he scoffed at your remark.

“I’m not overprotective.” Nanami frowned at her.

“You were one scraped knee away from sending him to kindergarten wrapped in bubble wrap for the rest of the year.”

“He kept getting hurt.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was no malice as you paired it with a soft smile. Standing, you grabbed the plate of cookies off the table and started walking towards Yuuji’s door. He followed you, leaning against the wall where Yuuji wouldn’t be able to see him if he didn’t open his door fully. He watched as you took a deep breath before knocking softly. “Yuuji? I made cookies. Do you want some?”

There was silence for several moments before Yuuji’s voice finally came from the other side.

“What kind?” He sounded muffled.

“Peanut butter chocolate chip.”

Another silent moment passed, then his door opened just enough to let his arm through, feeling around blindly for the treats. You held the plate just out of his reach when he was about to touch the edge.

“If you want them, you have to let me in.”

Yuuji considered this, his arm going limp before retreating completely just as his door opened a fraction more. “Just you.” He emphasized.

You turned to him with a small smile and squeezed your way into his room, the door finally closing softly for once this afternoon.

Nanami started to take a step forward to listen, but hesitated at the last minute. Although he had just denied it with his neighbor, he was overprotective, and that side of him screamed to listen in so he could know how Yuuji was, but it was clear he needed his space. If Yuuji found out he had been eavesdropping, that would only make it worse.

He forced himself to walk away, changing out of his work clothes into a t-shirt and going into the kitchen to start making dinner while they talked. He turned on an instrumental playlist, not wanting to deal with lyrics while he was so deep in thought, his mind occupied with his son and the problem he was currently facing at work.

About an hour later (and several shameless tiptoes down the squeaky hall to see if you two were still talking), Nanami looked up to see you and Yuuji turning the corner into the living room/kitchen area. Yuuji kept his eyes on the carpet, kicking it with his socked toe while you looked between the two males expectantly. When Yuuji didn’t say anything, you elbowed him as a prompt. He looked up at Nanami for a second then back down at his feet.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“For?” You said before Nanami could respond.

“For yelling at you. I was upset. I want to go to the concert with Megumi. But if it’s not safe, I’ll listen.” He spoke as if he were reciting a speech, but finally looked up at Nanami with an intense stare. “I still want to go though.”

“And?”

Yuuji lost some of his steel and looked back down. “And I don’t hate you.”

Nanami looked at you for a second, wondering what magic you had worked to get his stubborn almost-teenager to actually speak like an adult instead of yelling at him again. When you pointed and mouthed ‘All him’ behind Yuuji’s back, he took a deep breath and looked back at his son.

“I know you still want to go. But it’s not safe. Especially with you two going by yourself. If you find something else you want to go to, that’s not that band, then I’ll take you and Megumi.”

Yuuji looked like was about to start arguing again, but you cleared your throat and gave him a meaningful look when he glanced over at you. He relented with a sigh and a nod.

Now that was over with, Nanami walked around the counter and hugged Yuuji, placing a kiss on the top of his head. Yuuji hugged him back willingly before they both turned their attention back to you. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” The blond man asked.

You shook your head. “I should really go back home, I have to finish up a lot of chores I’ve been putting off.”

“Please stay.” Yuuji grabbed your arm. “I’ll help you tomorrow.”

“You have your own chores to do, Yuuji. And homework.” Nanami reminded him.

His son ignored him and held your arm tighter. “Please?”

Yuuji’s pleading won out, and after staying and having a jovial dinner of katsudon with the two men, you all sat on the couch to watch a movie of Yuuji’s choosing, one he promptly fell asleep to, his head on Nanami’s chest as he drooled on his shirt. The father looked at you, watching the screen intently as you tried to decipher who just was the killer in the murder mystery, sipping a cup of tea carefully.

You’d never know just how much he loved you. So he settled with the obvious for now.

“Thank you.” Nanami whispered over Yuuji’s head.

You turned to look at him, your brows still drawn together in confusion as if you didn’t know what he was thanking you for. When he nodded down to Yuuji’s sleeping form, you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgment and looked back to the TV screen.

“I didn’t do anything that wouldn’t have happened eventually.” You told him as you took a sip of tea. “He adores you, he wouldn’t have stayed mad for long.”

“Did he say anything?”

“I don’t want to betray his trust.” You admitted.

“Fair enough.” Nanami relented. “Would you tell me, though, if he needed anything?”

You smiled and nodded. “Always. Yuuji comes first.”

He thought he noticed a hint of sadness in your eyes at your words, but you were already up and gathering your empty dish before it registered. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of Yuuji’s head, and with just the slightest hesitation, one on Nanami’s cheek. He felt his face catch fire as soon as your lips touched his skin, tingles emanating from where your lips made contact. He barely registered your own cheeks burning red as well as you started walking towards the door. “Come on, Koro.”

The woman and dog finally disappeared, leaving Nanami and Yuuji alone in their apartment. Once he carried Yuuji to bed and read a few chapters of his current book, he turned off the light and laid back staring up in the dark. No matter how hard he tried, his mind wouldn’t succumb to sleep. He kept thinking of you, not just your shared moment tonight, but every moment of the entire seven years you had known each other, memories he analyzed and went through with a fine-toothed comb each night before he fell asleep. Had he built up the glances the way you touched his hand, how you chose to spend your time with them rather than by yourself or with others? How you cared for Yuuji like her own, willing to help whenever you could? Were the feelings lying just beneath his carefully constructed surface genuine, ready to burst forth at any moment?

Were you in your bed, doing the same, thinking of him?

tags: @oikawaandkuroostan

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fandom #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #single dad!nanami #growing pains #the oikawa to my iwaizumi #fanfiction #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #gojou satoru

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Cabin Life - The Beginning

A/N: You all need to blame both @storiesofsvu and @berniesilvas for this! I want woodsman!Sonny to be real so fucking bad, so that he can sweep me off my feet. Anyways, this covers the Cabin in the Woods square in @storiesofsvu fall bingo!

I don’t mention it in the story, but in my mind, this takes place before he’s in SVU, even before Homicide. I have him mid-late 20s.

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1330

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @dailypeterscanavino)

When Sonny was a kid, his parents would take him and his sisters to their vacation home; a homey cabin nestled in the New Hampshire woods. There were multiple cabins there, spread out over the land, close enough to be considered neighbors, but far enough for privacy. They had basic appliances—a fridge/freezer, a stove/oven, a sink, a bathtub, a shower, a toilet—but everything else was wooden. Dom Sr. eventually put a tv there, just in the master bedroom, so he could keep up with news and sports while they vacationed.

Sonny always loved the little community up there. Everyone was always so nice to him and his family. Which is why, after dealing with atrocities while on the force, he decided to retreat from city life. He hated being surrounded by monsters every day; sure not everyone in New York City was a creep or predator or murderer, but after seeing so much of the city’s underbelly, he was fed up.

He asked his parents if he could move to the New Hampshire house permanently. They would still be able to vacation there, of course—it was a massive, four-bedroom cabin—but he just needed to get away. He agreed to pay for everything, and he still had his cell phone so they could contact him if needed. It didn’t take much convincing for his parents to agree.

It was definitely an adjustment going from the heart of NYC to becoming a woodsman. Sonny grew his hair and beard out and bought plaid jackets—the things he saw woodsman do on tv when he was younger. The cabin needed work, especially clearing up the outside foliage, giving him some sense of purpose. And if he needed food, there were the local markets close by and a grocery store about an hour away.

The locals all remembered the scrawny little boy who spent his summers running around the woods with his sisters, and they all gladly took him under their wings. After Sonny hacked back the overgrowth, Mr. Piper taught him how to do controlled burn piles. Mr. and Mrs. Willis came over soon after, helping him measure out, then build an elevated garden. Mrs. Willis taught him how to make nutrient soil, while Mr. Willis gave him seeds, and taught him how to care for each and every vegetable.

When Sonny got the cabin, he inherited the small apple orchard, too. His pa taught him how to care for the trees while his ma taught him recipes for apple pie, cider, tarts, jams. He noticed how much he relied on bees to pollinate, and Ms. Walters, the local honey provider, taught him which wildflowers were 1) regional to them and 2) attracted bees. Sonny built another elevated garden, this time on his own, and filled it with wildflower seeds Ms. Walters gifted him with.

There was a creek nearby, and one day, Sonny found Mr. Adams fishing in it. Sonny proposed a deal; Mr. Adams gives Sonny an old rod that he wouldn’t miss, and Sonny would teach Mr. Adams the best way to clean and cook the fish. Mr. Adams agreed and gave him a sturdy rod. As Sonny went about cleaning and deboning the fish they had caught, he complimented Mr. Adams on his herb garden.

“Herb gardens aren’t the hardest thing to manage,” he said with a smile, and gifted Sonny with starters for every herb he could think of— “as payment for this phenomenal fish recipe!”

Third elevated garden up and running, Sonny fell into woodsman life easily. His muscles grew, though he was still thin; he was lean, though, not lanky anymore. Any questions he had, the locals had answers for. He grew his own food, fished his own fish, and bought (or traded) meat from the local hunters. Soon enough, the locals were calling him, asking for help with something or other. And Sonny loved all of it.

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

During the weekly Autumn Farmer’s Market, Sonny rented a little booth. He had brought multiple apple pies, tarts, bottles of cider, apple chips, packages of herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, and everything else he had in abundance…that would also fit on only two tables. When he first started harvesting, he would give most away, or trade for other goods, but he also needed to make money some way. So, the extras ended up here.

He was in the middle of chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Willis about how his gardens were coming along when he saw you. He froze halfway through a sentence, his jaw hanging open, prompting the Willis’s to turn. Mrs. Willis looked back at Sonny, a knowing smile on her face.

“She just moved back in with her parents; she had been living in New York City for a little bit, trying to make a life there, but, well, as she said herself, she’s not a city girl,” Mrs. Willis explained.

Before Sonny could respond—or tear his eyes from you—you glanced over at him. You smiled warmly, and his heart beat faster. When you started coming towards his little booth, he scrambled to clean himself up, brushing his hair back off his face, smoothing down his shirt, trying to wipe some dirt off the front. Mrs. Willis gave him a smile before looping her arm with her husband and pulling him away.

“Hello! I’m new here, but I must say, your booth is probably my favorite,” you said, still smiling at him.

It took him a moment for his brain to process your words. “O-oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“All of your food looks delicious. I mean, look at this squash! It’s bigger than my head!” you announced, giggling.

He had never heard anything more magical in his life. “Do you like pie? I can give you a slice,” he replied nervously.

“How much?” you asked. You loved both apples and pie, and his looked amazing.

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s on the house; a sweet treat for a pretty woman.”

You felt your face heat and you smiled shyly as he unwrapped a pie and cut into it. He cut off a generous piece, and you opened your mouth to complain about taking it for free, but he brushed you off, placing the piece on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, and you swear your taste buds were dancing; it was the most delicious thing you ever tasted before, the sweetness and the tartness balanced perfectly.

You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing it. “That is the best damn pie I’ve ever had. Ever. But please, share with me, Mr.…?”

“Call me Sonny, please. Sonny Carisi,” he replied, a goofy smile pulling across his lips.

You gave him your name, then offered him a bite. You both stood and chatted while exchanging bites of apple pie. He told you about his decision to leave the city and live a simpler life, surrounded by good people. And you told him about how you had always heard of the big city and decided to live there. But after a few months, you missed the woods too much, and you came back home.

“I feel a little silly living back at home in my adult life. I’m hoping to get my own cabin one day…maybe build it from the ground up,” you finished.

Sonny nodded in understanding. “Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can always ask me. I’m not the most knowledgeable about cabin life quite yet, but I have the knowledge of who to call for advice.”

“Well, thank you, Sonny. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you replied, and he smiled. Then you leaned over the table of his goods and kissed his scruffy cheek before winking and walking back to your parent’s booth, giving him a little wave. The smile and look of absolute adoration in his eyes would be a fixed image in your mind for a while.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #storiesofsvufallbingo

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Risk”

Welcome back, everyone! I have a lot of mixed, complicated feelings about today's episode and I'm already sure this recap will miss a great deal that should be said. There's a lot to digest, we need some time to do that, so until things have settled I think that the one, entirely confident claim I can make here is that our writers weren't BSing the fandom on twitter. The last few days have seen a number of big claims made regarding "Risk" —

— and whatever else we might have to say about the episode, it certainly delivered in terms of shocking content. From confessions to reveals to a new plan in place, there's a lot to unpack.

So let's get started.

Our first shot is a problem.

I don't want it to be! But I've got to work with what I've got. We open on Salem's flying monkeys — or gorillas, if we're being technical — and my immediate thought is where in the world they came from. I mean, obviously I know where. We ended Volume 6 with the post-credit scene of Salem adding wings to an army of Beringels, Hazel commenting that she'll lead the invasion herself. When Salem arrived at the end of Volume 7 and we picked up where we'd left off in Volume 8, the fandom was obviously expecting an attack led primarily by flying, transformed grimm. That didn't happen. For ten episodes the plot forgot that the Beringels existed, focusing instead of the Hound, the grimm soup, then the Whale, then the ground grimm the Whale was producing. Months back I encountered a number of posts asking, "What happened to the resource we know Salem brought to this fight?" and those questions are partly what inspired the "Introducing new grimm that are then quickly abandoned" spot on the bingo board. Now, suddenly, the Beringels have re-appeared and that is a good thing. Though it's too little, too late, as is so often the case with RWBY. Getting something you expect has a sour taste when it arrives months past when it was needed, especially when that something only exists for a second on screen.

This is doubly true given that we saw Oscar eliminate the grimm last episode.

At least, I thought he had? Pretty much everyone I've spoken to thought he had. This last week's discussions have centered around RWBY nerfing the stakes, taking out a whole army of grimm in one, magical blast. That's far from great. Yet now we see that we were apparently wrong. Atlas remains overrun with grimm, this problem remains a problem... so, yay? But we're once left with a tradeoff. RWBY has no longer eliminated the stakes with a deus ex machina as we had originally thought, but in its place we're left with a badly executed scene last episode and an assumed problem that is "fixed" with an enemy we should have been dealing with since the start of the volume. The road to the Beringels has been messy indeed and all they've done so far is fly across the screen.

Which reminds me: if this army of grimm still exists — and absolutely existed prior to Oscar's blast — how come not a single one is attacking the Schnee manor? This opening is in Atlas, the skies are overrun, we've seen a few grimm show up to help out the Hound, yet miraculously nothing bothers the group while they freak out at the dining table, or freak out as Penny tries to leave. That's a whole lot of grimm and a whole lot of negativity... yet somehow these two things never meet in a way that would inconvenience our characters. While from a writing standpoint I can understand not wanting to interrupt all these conversations and feel good moments, the show can't simply ignore the rules of its world whenever it's convenient. If anything, given that Atlas' population is currently hidden beneath the city, Schnee manor should be even more of a hot-spot than it normally would be. There is one (1) group of people out in the open for them to target.

Yeah, we're a single shot into this episode. It's a doozy.

Moving right along, those Atlas citizens (and, let's not forget, a large number of Mantle evacuees too) are still huddled in the tunnels, listening to Ironwood's insane broadcast. They're obviously terrified, as are those down in Mantle who are staring execution in the face. Fiona bursts into tears.

It makes me wonder why we didn't get the airship subplot now. As I've mentioned extensively in the past, that decision didn't make much sense and I think the writers knew it didn't make much sense because they chose not to reveal what Ruby and co. planned to do with the citizens once they were on board. The point was never to come up with a feasible plan, something the audience would put to the test, but rather to just make it seem like the group was doing something Smart and Heroic before Ironwood inevitably derailed it. Don't look too closely at the man behind the curtain. Normally, I'd comment that yes, it's damn hard to come up with a brilliant plan to save others in a situation like this — our characters can only be as smart as our authors! — yet that sympathy dissipates when we hit this episode and are given a scenario where airships would have been great. Ironwood has threatened to nuke Mantle. Suddenly, it is imperative that the civilians leave the safety of the crater as soon as possible (whereas before it was not). So Whitley remembers that they have access to these ships and the group hatches a plan to sneak them down while Ironwood is distracted, get everyone up into Atlas so he can't use Mantle as a bargaining chip anymore. Then they're spotted, the plan revealed, and Ironwood shoots their ships down, leaving them devastated that their attempt to help the citizens has literally gone up in flames. We're still left with the problem of why Ironwood wouldn't just allow a continued evacuation now that Salem is briefly out of the mix and the Schnees have provided extra resources — the writing really took a sledgehammer to his characterization — but the group trying to get people to Atlas to avoid death by bomb at least makes more sense than them trying to move the citizens to an undisclosed location, for unestablished reasons, when they were already relatively safe. The bomb is what makes those airships a necessity.

It really makes me wonder how much editing goes on and how much time the writers have before they finalize scripts.

Regardless, we cut from terrified people to Ironwood himself, accompanied by Winter. The animation has some nice parallels going on here, what with the same black, white, and blue color scheme, hands behind their backs, the need for robotic accommodations, and steps perfectly in synch. As we're about to see though, Winter is very good at looking the part of a loyal soldier while actually bending the rules.

However, are we really going to ignore that she betrayed Ironwood last episode? Betrayal from his perspective, that is. Winter was given a direct order, disobeyed that order, pissed off Harriet in the process, and wasn't able to give a good explanation for her actions — she was too busy being creeped out by Ironwood's reaction. For all intents and purposes she should be considered disloyal right now. Or at least under suspicion, yet Ironwood acts as if everything is fine. We've skipped over any meaningful fallout between them, or a reason why Ironwood would dismiss her betrayal. This ties into something I'll bring up later in the episode: namely, that RWBY introduces too much too quickly and doesn't have time to satisfyingly tackle — or tackle at all — the plot points they've introduced, simply because there's always a new one to focus on. We dropped the "Winter went against Ironwood at great personal risk" plotline to make room for the new "Ironwood has randomly threatened Mantle" plotline, which likewise doesn't do Ironwood's characterization any favors. I don't just mean the obvious "Omg he's willing to murder a whole city now" issue. Ironwood used to be smart, yet his unfounded trust in others makes him look foolish now: first trusting Watts, now Winter. Alongside that, the story and fandom have both pushed the idea that Ironwood is paranoid, yet that "paranoia" has only ever been attached to justified threats. If he were actually paranoid then Winter's actions would have caused him to mistrust all of the Ace Ops now, labeling everyone near him a disloyal enemy, despite evidence to the contrary (especially when it comes to Harriet). Yet across two volumes Ironwood has continually been "paranoid" only in regards to things like Cinder and Salem — proven threats — while simultaneously trusting known villains and ignoring when his subordinates straight up say, "She let our enemies go free." There’s little rhyme or reason to any of his decisions here.

Still! A nice, meaningful shot lol.

As Ironwood and Winter get closer we see the Ace Ops discussing the threat. "Of course he's not going to do it," to which Marrow pushes back with, "So what? He's bluffing with a whole city?" This is a really, really important moment that I don't think the writers realize is important. See, everyone is shocked when Ironwood reveals that he intends to go through with the threat. The Ace Ops, Winter, Robyn, our heroes... everyone grapples with the idea that this is actually happening. Everyone has some moment of, "It's just a bluff, yeah?" and I don't think that's just denial. The characters' shock tells us that Ironwood normally wouldn't be a man who'd do something like this. Ever. That shock has to stem from something, such as an ingrained understanding that Ironwood is a protector, not a murderer. Note the difference between the fandom and the characters' reactions. Whereas a good chunk of the fandom went, "Of course Ironwood means it. We all saw this coming! Remember how he..." and then proceed to list various things — persuasive or otherwise — that prove he was always a bad guy in the making. Yet no one in the RWBY world is inclined to use those moments as evidence. Winter doesn't go, "He's not bluffing. I saw him shoot the councilman just for speaking up" and the Ace Ops don't go, "Oh, he'll do it. This is the man who destroyed his arm to take down Watts. He'll stop at nothing." After everything they've seen — the same things we've seen — there's still some instinctual, nebulous knowledge that goes, "No. Ironwood wouldn't. He's one of the good guys." We can certainly talk about real life people getting swept up in horrible institutions, unwilling to admit how bad things actually are until they hit a specific line they can't cross... but I think this is less a comment on some sort of bystander effect (RWBY isn't that deliberately nuanced lol) and more an unintentional acknowledgement that until the very sudden and entirely unexpected shooting of Oscar, Ironwood actually wouldn't have done this. The Ace Ops are reacting to a man who absolutely existed until the writing erased him and they believe the core of that man still exists. To my mind, he should, but because our show can't actually have Salem as the main villain right now, she's conveniently blown up and Ironwood takes her place.

So we've got some loaded implications there, as well as Vine's comment that he hopes "the kids" see sense now. I am begging RWBY to pick a lane already. Are they kids, or are they adults? Because that answer makes a big difference and we can't continue to have it both ways.

Ironwood and Winter arrive were Ironwood orders that she prep drones with the "payload." That's the moment Winter and the others realize he's serious. Cue that shock all around. The revelation is the last straw for Marrow, prompting him to start yelling some excellent points about how Ironwood is doing Salem's job for her. See, this accusation works. Telling a guy threatening to blow up a city that he's as bad as their villain is accurate. Having Oscar tell that same guy that he's as bad as their villain because he wants to save a city full of people... is ridiculous. Totally different setup here and RWBY got it right this time. The only line that didn't work for me was Marrow asking the Ace Ops if they believe in anything. Uh... yeah. They believe in saving Atlas + all the Mantle evacuees they got. That's pretty well established. I swear, most RWBY speeches are padded with generic, heroic-sounding lines that don't actually mean anything, or are outright falsehoods we’re meant to ignore.

We'll see more of that with renora.

Marrow attempts to leave and his eyes go wide as he hears the click of Ironwood's gun. Remember I said that Winter is good at playing the obedient soldier? It's after Ironwood aims that she tackles Marrow.

On the surface it looks only like she violently disarmed him, but in reality she got him out of the bullet's path and kept Ironwood from firing at all. She saved his life, choosing to play up how she'll “take this traitor to the brig” where he belongs, rather than watching him die. A really nice moment in terms of strategy and one of the few lately where I've actually felt like I'm watching smart characters.

However, I cannot deny the uncomfortable implications in this scene. Smart or not, necessary or not, it hasn't escaped anyone's notice that one of our darkest characters was a) nearly killed by a white man and b) beat up by a white woman. To say nothing of Marrow's status as a faunus. I was cringing during his line about loyalty: “I used to wear this rank with pride. Now I see it for what it really is: a collar."

Honestly, I don't have the qualifications to unpack all that, so let's just acknowledge that the scene, while good in some respects, was massively insulting in others. I’ll let others in the fandom defend or damn it as they see fit.

We get a shot of how shocked the Ace Ops are that they nearly watched their team member get executed for speaking up against a bomb threat. It once again highlight's RWBY's strange depiction of violence and when it's deemed appropriate. Harriet has threatened people a couple of times now — here telling Marrow she'll shut him up herself — yet her reaction tells us that she never would have killed him as Ironwood nearly did. Threats, then, mean little... unless Ironwood is making an exaggerated comment about shooting Qrow. Then it's evidence of evil intent that's bound to come to the surface eventually. So does that mean Harriet will be trying to bomb cities herself someday? If so, it once again leaves our heroes in an awkward position, considering that Ruby started the fight Harriet wouldn't, Weiss stuck her weapon in Whitley's face, etc. If it says something awful that Winter would punch a minority — even to save his life — what does it say about Qrow that he would punch a child in anger? Outside of the easy to label actions like Ironwood's bomb threat and shootings, there exists this gray space that asks, “When are you justified to use violence? When is a threat forgivable?” The problem is, the show keeps coming up with contradictory answers. I bring this up not because Winter's punch or Harriet's threat are the most significant examples of this that we've seen, but because the themes of forgiveness and violence take center stage at the episode's end... and RWBY completely drops the ball. Keep these complications in mind.

Before that though, the group is crowded into the dining room and no matter what else "Risk" might give us, I'm reminded that I really like the design of the Schnee manor. I'm glad the episode found an excuse to show us this room again.

My initial thought upon entering the scene was, "Are we going to talk about Penny's hack? The silver-eyed grimm? Ozpin's return?" and to RWBY's credit it touches on all of these, though I stand by my point about plotlines coming too quickly. Any one of these should have been given the space to grow, not fighting for space against the potential destruction of Mantle. If you don't acknowledge these things in "Risk" you've lost your chance (much like how "Oscar is kidnapped" replaced "Oscar has to deal with Ozpin's return," resulting in a scene where Oscar was just... randomly okay with Ozpin again. We lost the chance to deal with the first conflict introduced because we barreled into the second), yet if you do spend episode time on these issues, it feels like the characters aren't dealing with the immediate threat. Questions of silver eyes, what to do about Penny, and Ozpin's return needed to be given their due before there was an hour time limit resulting in thousands of deaths. Now, you have to wonder why Yang and Ruby are talking about their mother when a city's safety is ticking away. Where were these questions and reassurances years ago?

I think this is why this episode — maybe even this whole volume — simultaneously feels too full and too boring. We're being introduced to lots of Big Things, but then putting them off to focus on other, smaller stuff, and by the time we circle back around it's no longer the right time. We're constantly focusing on the least interesting, least important thing in the room. Why is the group sitting around with their tea when we could have moved the Hound plotline up and started this groundwork earlier? Which means we're doing that work now instead of worrying about Mantle or Penny. All of which is connected to Salem herself being here, yet Ironwood is our villain instead... We're just introducing new idea after new idea, dropping each to focus on something else when the viewer is already emotionally invested in the last conflict. It makes the show feel overly packed with problems we don't have time for while simultaneously having too much time in which the characters do nothing of importance. We're never dealing with these issues at the right time. Talking about a silver-eyed grimm while Salem is here feels like Too Much and having the girls unpack that now, with Mantle’s life on the line, feels like Too Little. Stop sitting around while you've got less than an hour to save half a kingdom! We needed this conversation in a different episode, one not already driven by a problem that’s objectively more important.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We're in the dining room and the group is listing all the stuff that has gone wrong lately. Blake mentions that Qrow and Robyn are still in custody, because we definitely want Blake remembering that Qrow exists, not one of his nieces. Ruby, meanwhile, is having a meltdown. "So then it's impossible!" she yells, head in her hands.

Emerald sneaks in an insult: “See? If Ms. Hero here with all the answers doesn’t have one..." and the others, of course, jump to Ruby's aid. But Emerald is right! It's entirely Ruby's fault that Atlas didn't get the chance to escape with those they had. Her actions and lack of a plan led to where they are now. I'm not saying she's responsible for Ironwood's insane decisions — that's like saying he's responsible for Qrow's in relation to Clover — but Ruby indeed played the part of the hero who had all the answers... without actually having any answers. Now that things are worse than how they started, her only answer is to say it's all "impossible" and throw up her hands. Ruby is an absolutely terrible leader right now and someone should indeed be calling her out on that, it's just too bad it's Emerald, someone technically still presented as an untrustworthy figure for the next couple of minutes. (More on that later.) Any and every criticism of Ruby is dismissed out of hand. Don't believe Ironwood because he's crazy now. The Ace Ops? His boot lickers. Yang has things to say, but once Ren agrees with her she does a 180. Now Ren is heading towards an extra special apology for daring to doubt Ruby. May calls her out, only to also change her opinion the next episode. Now here's one more person, but she's a bad guy. The show has never once encouraged us to treat these criticisms seriously — never allowed them to stick, let alone lead to change — and at this point I'm done with everyone falling over themselves to absolve and praise Ruby. By making Emerald the criticizer and having Ruby throw herself a pity party, the writing ensures that the conversation goes from, "Yeah. You messed up big time and now have a responsibility to fix things" to "Aww, don't be so hard on yourself! We won't let mean Emerald insult you anymore."

Ruby makes herself the victim here. She gets so upset and acts so defeated that all anyone can do is reassure her. The focus turns towards her, a focus centered around hiding against the table, or cowering on a staircase, so that it feels cruel to call her out on her deadly mistakes when she's so clearly upset. But they still should have, especially since cowering and tears have never protected anyone else from the group's criticism. Ozpin is proof of that.

What I'm getting at is that Ruby runs away. She's faced with the consequences of her actions, is informed she needs to help come up with a solution, and instead of braving that decides it's "impossible" and literally runs from the room. While they're on a time limit. Keep this moment in mind for just a bit longer. These choices become doubly important later.

So Ruby can't handle the responsibility she violently ripped from others and the group goes out of their way to comfort her in this. Especially since the writing again decides to conflate Emerald and Ozpin through a comment of Oscar's, demonstrating that it still has no decent sense of what "responsibility" or "villainous acts" means. These scenes are three years in the making and every step getting here was dogged with problems, so the fact that the end result is a mess isn't exactly surprising.

We (thankfully) leave Ruby for a bit and instead turn to Jaune. He's amplifying Nora's aura, but admits that he can't get the scars to go away. That makes sense. After all, they're scars. His semblance helps people heal, but at this point Nora has already healed. Those scars are the result of that.

She says it was “Just another ditzy move from Nora” and I'm glad we're acknowledging that, even if it is all framed through the lens of Nora being incorrect in that assumption. Once again, the writing continually makes statements about characters, but fails to have their actions reflect that. Nora wanted to do more than just hit things with her hammer without thinking them through... and we showed that by having her hit a door with her hammer without thinking it through. Was it heroic? Absolutely. Did it lead to any growth? No. I'd much rather someone acknowledge that yeah, she did the same thing she always does, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Nora's impulsivity is a part of her and, given the talk of teammates here, she could have gotten reassurance that she'll always have people around to help her temper those impulses. Instead, we're (again) told that she shouldn't do A anymore, watch her do A anyway, the writing presents it like it’s B, Nora admits that she did A, and everyone rushes to assure her it was actually B. Just let these characters make mistakes for once, especially mistakes made in an effort to help someone. This should be the easiest and kindest way to criticize the group and RWBY can’t even manage that.

Which brings us to Ren. Ren, I am so sorry. You deserved better than this. Nora rips into him, saying, “We were supposed to be a team, but that didn’t matter to you! You shove people out so you don’t have to feel things that are hard!" and again we have RWBY making grand statements that are meaningless. Did Ren keep things bottled up in Volume 7? Yes... and no one tried to help him with that. Instead, Nora decided to bypass his problems completely and try to kiss it better. When that (shockingly) didn't work, Ren was finally forced to open up at Yang's insistence and was abandoned for his perspective. That's what that was, literally and metaphorically: they walked away from him and made it clear that so long as he believes these things, he's not welcome. What were those things? We've made mistakes, Ruby made mistakes, we're not ready for this stuff. That's it! "We were supposed to be a team" makes it sound like Ren betrayed them in the worst possible way, when in reality all he did was acknowledge that they're imperfect and that things are a mess right now. But of course, that is the ultimate betrayal for this group: acknowledgement that they’re not perfect. Everyone can call themselves out to generate sympathy — Nora does it, Ruby does it — but as soon as someone else agrees and implies that they should make changes, they’re dismissed.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the refusal to question Ruby makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Is this as bad as Ironwood shooting someone who questions him? Of course not, but that doesn't make it good. The group has made it clear from Ozpin to Ren that if you put a toe out of line, that's it. You're gone. You are not a part of the group until you are willing to back the group 100%, no matter what horrible things they might be up to. That Nora yells at Ren for questioning and Ren learns to keep his mouth shut, apologizing to both her and Jaune for speaking his mind is... well, it's horrible. That's not friendship. I know the fandom doesn't want to hear that given how much we otherwise love these relationships, but it's not. If you can't question and voice concerns without about serious topics like this without the threat of abandonment — literal or otherwise — then that's not a friend group you should be sticking with. Ren’s "biggest failing as a teammate and a partner" is that he didn't agree with the others and didn’t immediately change his mind when they demanded it. There are awful implications attached to that, especially since Ren’s perspective was a good one. He’s not out here slinging horrific views like, I don’t know, homophobia at the bee’s non-relationship. He just went “We made mistakes” and the group responded “Absolutely not. Absurd. Fuck you.” They didn’t even consider that position, which speaks to both a lack of respect for Ren and a level of arrogance that keeps getting them into trouble. But these issues are easily overlooked given everything else that surrounds them. Outside of Ren's apology, I quite liked the renora moment. We got a detail about Nora's backstory! She called Ren pretty! We got an "I love you"! He booped her nose!! It's all very cute and wholesome... and soured by the knowledge of what Ren had to do to get here.

Outside of these generalized responses, there are three other points I wanted to make about this scene:

Yes, more obligatory humor to ruin an otherwise serious moment. Jaune could have just smiled softly and slipped out. Or have him leave before the conversation started (because Ren shouldn't have been apologizing to him in the first place...) Instead, we got multiple seconds of him being awkward, including a bunch of funny sound effects.

I'm legitimately happy we got that "I love you" — outside of the problems since arriving in Atlas, I've always enjoyed the ship — but coming on the heels of last week's episode, it makes the bee's forehead touch look even worse. Renora has been confirmed multiple times at this point, but we still can't get something overt for our one, queer ship.

On the one hand, I really like that Nora set a boundary here — a surprisingly mature conversation for RWBY — but I'm confused as to what exactly the boundary is. She says she needs to figure out who she is without Ren, but what does that translate to on a practical, day-to-day basis? Normally, when a couple needs to figure out who they are they separate, but renora can't do that. They're still on the same team, stuck in the same war, presumably off to do the same things they've always done together. It sounds great on paper to say that Nora is going to discover who she is without Ren, but unless they separate again I don't see how that can happen. More likely, we'll get a volume or two of them looking and acting exactly as they always have, but when it comes time for relationship drama again, Nora will insist she's a different person who is now ready to be with him. That she's changed. But change requires, you know, making a change, so is renora actually going to look any different moving forward?

While these two confess their love but also decide to be separate (is that what happened?), Qrow and Robyn have knocked out some guards and retrieved their weapons. Robyn watches four security feeds, whispering, "He's... really gonna do it." See? Even Robyn, someone who never liked Ironwood and considered him dangerous from the start, is in shock that he would go this far. Qrow doesn't want to talk moral downfalls though, he's all action: "Not if we stop him first."

You know, at least Qrow is doing something. What he's doing is stupid, particularly given his motivations, but with the volume we've had I give him props for coming up with a plan and sticking to it. That's more than many of the others have done.

Yet then, suddenly, Robyn doesn't want to kill Ironwood. ...Since when? Robyn has been the most trigger happy of the lot while Qrow initially wanted to talk. Now they've switched places for no reason I can see, with Qrow all murder happy and Robyn cautioning restraint. Which admittedly isn't uncommon. Remember how Nora was all about protecting Mantle and then randomly decided to help with Amity instead? Remember how Yang was critical of Ruby and then decided to defend her to Ren? Remember how Hazel was pro-Salem until he saw a blue naked lady and decided to defect? At this point, characters just do things at random.

Robyn says that Qrow isn't trying to kill Ironwood because that's the right thing to do, only because he wants revenge. A true enough assessment. But then she follows it up by claiming that Qrow is a better huntsmen than Clover because he does the right thing. Without rehashing all my arguments regarding how Clover was not the devil incarnate for refusing to let two potential criminals walk free — especially after they attacked him — we're really playing the dead guy card now? Clover was murdered. Robyn and Qrow were participants in that murder. Now Robyn is making sweeping claims about who is the better person when Clover quite obviously isn't here to defend himself? That's all kinds of messed up.

Before they can bash the dead guy anymore though the elevator arrives. We see Qrow and Robyn's shocked expressions at whoever is behind the doors, presumably Winter and Marrow. It seems likely that Winter didn't really intend to take him to the brig. They're defecting and have now found two more allies to help them. Robyn wants a plan other than run upstairs and stab Ironwood? Winter will likely provide one.

We return to Ruby who, as established, is wallowing in the most dramatic position on the staircase. Obviously things are legitimately horrible right now and if Ruby had been given a storyline different from what we've seen since Volume 6, I'd feel sorry for her. As it stands, it's just frustrating to watch her look like the maiden of a Victorian novel while Mantle's time ticks away.

The conversation between her and Yang is great though. At least, it is for the first few sentences. I love that the show remembered they're sisters and have them talking again. I love that Yang tries to cheer Ruby up by saying she outshines her big sis in regards to the Hound. I love that she nevertheless acknowledges that the Schnees were a part of that defeat, giving them their due rather than putting all the praise on Ruby. We establish that Yang has learned what the Hound really was. This conversation is going strong...

...but then.

"That's what happened to mom."

Really? Really? In eight episodes we went from, "Lol just because the Hound spoke doesn't mean Summer was secretly made into a grimm. That’s a crazy theory" to "Summer was absolutely turned into a grimm. That's canon now!" Except because it was made canon by Ruby just announcing it one day, we can expect for an even bigger "twist" in the future: Summer is still alive. Why wouldn't she be? The Hound was untouchable outside of silver eyes, so we have little reason to think anyone has defeated her in the last 14 odd years.

I'll admit the timeline works out better than expected (I think) with Salem killing SEWs during Maria's time before switching to experimentation, but there's no emotional weight to this. I just don't care and frankly I don't think the fandom cares either. Oh, there's plenty of excitement over the reveal, but that's all for the version of Summer Rose people have built up in their minds for the last eight years, not anything that exists in the show. If you strip away all the headcanons and fics, Summer isn't interesting because she barely exists. We know nothing about her as a person and therefore we have no reason to care that she's likely another Hound. Worse — because maybe this could be smoothed over if we just care since Ruby cares — everything else surrounding this reveal was badly done. Summer, as said, has been a non-character for this whole series. Yang only just remembered two episodes ago that Summer is her mom too. The only evidence of experimentation we've seen is on other grimm, not people. There was more mystery surrounding why Tyrian was interested in Jaune, not why he'd kidnap Ruby (Big Bads always want to kidnap heroes). We have no idea who this silver eyed faunus was. We have no idea why Salem would randomly start experimenting when she doesn't need additional weapons. We don't know why she would keep these weapons to the sidelines when she’s apparently had them for over a decade. I don't even buy that Ruby, someone who we never see thinking about or questioning any of this, suddenly put all these pieces together to hit on the revelation.

None of this adds up because it wasn't planned. Summer was dead, added to the series purely because having a dead mom is interesting, and she was treated as dead for seven years. Not just by the characters, by the show. Then, suddenly, the narrative raced to remind everyone that she's supposedly a Very Important Character so we could get this twist. It’s awful. Not because the idea itself is horrible, but because it was shoved into a story that wasn't prepared for it and certainly doesn't need it. The group has Salem herself attacking the kingdom, Ironwood threatening destruction, three Relics still to discover, not to mention all the other personal conflicts going on — Emerald walking around the mansion, Ozpin is back, Penny is being controlled, Oscar has finite magic now, Nora is still recovering — but we're going to introduce another subplot to deal with? RWBY acts like it's terrified that if it doesn't add something new and flashy every third episode, its viewers will jump ship. Despite its hiccups, there's a reason why the arcs of Volume 4 worked well overall: characters were given the time to explore specific problems, like Yang's PTSD and the destruction of Ren's village. Now, in episode 11 of 14, RWBY reveals that two of the characters' mom was turned into a literal monster, but there's only time for a tiny bit of comfort because Penny is escaping and they have less than an hour now to save Mantle. There is way too much going on and we're not devoting enough time to any of it.

Hell, even the conversation can't afford to stay on the Summer reveal for more than a few sentences. Ruby segues back to her self-chastisement, saying that she wasted time on Amity. She did, but not because people didn't come. She never should have made that terrifying, nonsensical announcement to begin with. But just like Ruby never thought through the pros and cons of telling the world about Salem, she apparently never thought about the logistics of getting help. She's written the world off now — so you just know help will appear in the finale — yet she never considered how long all this would take. Our timeline is (supposedly) two days, so how long would it take a kingdom to digest the information she gave them, decide on a course of action, get people and resources together, then fly all the way to Atlas? After Ruby used most of the first day just to send the message? As I and others have pointed out, the answer is “way longer than the group has.” It shouldn't be possible, yet neither Ruby nor Yang realizes basic facts like, "What's the flight time between Vacuo and Atlas?" Like Qrow blaming his semblance rather than his decision to team up with Tyrian, Ruby blames the world for abandoning them rather than her terribly thought out plan. Both have reached the right emotion — regret — but not for the right reasons.

Also, Ruby says that Amity fell. Are Pietro and Maria okay??

Yang talks about blind optimism vs. no optimism at all, something I could really get behind if the group hadn't been governed by blind optimism this whole time. Also if what the rest of what Yang said made sense. She fires back with, “And in case you didn’t notice, my plan for Mantle didn’t work either." Uh... what plan? As far as I recall there was no plan. They just went down to do any tasks that needed doing: supply runs and grimm killings. What plan is Yang talking about?

This conversation is a disaster. We circle back around to Summer with Yang saying she also took a risk (the title is very obvious this episode) but "she's still my hero." Is she? Because the only thing you've ever said about Summer is that she baked great cookies. Regardless, Yang lays her head on Ruby's shoulder and they cry some more.

Then Jaune hurries down the steps because Penny has woken up and broken through a window.

Again: how were they planning to deal with this? Did anyone discuss it? Because it looks like Klein said, "Hey, that friend of yours powered up and could have hurt us," Nora said, "Hey, Penny was fighting some sort of control," and Whitely said, "Yeah, she wanted to open the vault and then self destruct" and everyone just left her alone in some room, deciding they'd worry about that later. If Penny had just snuck out a little more quietly the group would have been screwed.

What I do like though is the teamwork to keep Penny from flying off. It feels like we get so little teamwork nowadays, which makes everyone piling on others' range weapons, or Jaune boosting Weiss' glyphs, really enjoyable. Even Emerald gets in on the action because apparently they gave her her weapons back!

We're going to talk about this nonsense in a second.

For now, Ruby implores Penny to fight it, which is exactly what I said we'd get. Penny insists Ruby kill her though, saying that if she does she'll ensure that the power passes to her. I find this to be a weird priority. Does the group really care about who gets the Maiden powers right now? The threat here is that Penny will successfully open the vault — which shouldn't even be that much of a worry. Just let Ironwood leave instead of trying to destroy Mantle! Keeping him here has made things worse! — and that Penny will self-destruct. That feels like the biggest worry: that Penny will die. So they're going to prevent her death by... killing her themselves? Priorities and motivations really feel shaky this week.

Luckily, Ruby remembers that Penny is A Real Person and tells Jaune to amplify her aura. The fact that she has a soul keeps the virus from overtaking her. Hurray!

That's like saying my sense of self will beat off rabies. Just believe that you're your own person and nothing can touch you. They go so far as to say, “That’s who you are. Our friend, not a machine” and that feels like such an erasure to me. Penny is a machine. She is! And that was great back when this was accepted as a good thing, not something to ignore. Remember this?

You think just because you've got nuts and bolts instead of squishy guts makes you any less real than me?

Here, Ruby acknowledges Penny's difference and reaffirms that she still has worth. Now, the group denies Penny's difference in order to prove that she has worth. She has worth because she's supposedly not a machine and supposedly can't be controlled like one... even though she is a machine and is being controlled. It's only Jaune's semblance that keeps her from going under again. The concept of Penny's personhood is now connected to her ability to resist a machine-based virus and she has failed to do that. This doesn't confirm Penny's humanity, it tells Penny (and us) that humanity is distinct from the machine parts of her, rather than a concept that includes it, and the moment she is too influenced by that machinery she ceases to be a person. The group isn't accepting her here, they're encouraging Penny to ignore and deny the parts that make her Penny.

If you want an example of how to do an arc like this far, far better, go watch The Next Generation with Data. He's what Penny could have been.

Regardless, the virus has been held at bay, at least so long as Jaune has aura. Which seems to be endless given that he was exhausting himself in the whale, but is now boosting Nora, Weiss, and Penny without any difficulty.

At least that's a minor concern in the grand scheme of things. What we're about to get? Not so much. Honestly, I'm 7k into this recap and I just don't have the energy that these two scenes deserve. Which scenes? The one where Emerald is welcomed into the fold with laughter and Ozpin has to grovel for forgiveness.

Emerald first. Last week I said:

“However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you, [Emerald.]” That’s it then. Discussion over. We knew as soon as it started that blindly trusting her was being presented as the “right” thing to do and now here we are, deciding that conclusively, despite Jaune and Yang’s complaints. By the time the group reaches the mansion, Oscar is defending Emerald from Ruby. We’re supposed to just accept that she’s a part of the group now, only minimal pushback allowed.

and I was right. Over the course of the last week I spoke with a number of friends, many of them working under the belief that this was just the start of an arc for Emerald. Obviously the show wouldn't instantly have the group trust her after all this. They'll need to warm up to her first. She'll need to prove herself. Well, I was far more pessimistic, arguing instead that I thought this was it. She was already being presented as a perfectly trustworthy figure. I'd briefly thought I'd been mistaken when the group turned on Emerald for her comment to Ruby, but then suddenly she's been given her weapons back. It's not even a matter of "You should be able to defend yourself, but you're still not trustworthy" (which would still have problems, but). No, she makes a comment about "switching sides" and that's it, trust achieved. That's all it took — nothing at all.

Now, some shows do function on a second chance policy. We can name hundred of stories where heroes instantly forgive antagonists and there's nothing wrong with that. The problem is that RWBY is very much not that show. In the exact same scene Ozpin apologizes to the group and begs that they try to trust him again:

“I’ve failed all of you. I should have trusted you with the truth and I should never have run the day you discovered it."

This is complete and utter bullshit. Sorry, I'm not mincing words for this one. Two years we waiting for the group to come around, hoping that there would be apologies on both sides, but there wasn't. The group doesn't physically or verbally hurt Ozpin anymore — they do accept his request — but it's done with expressions that say this is what they are owed. You’d better apologize.

I could rehash all the arguments I've already made about how atrociously they treated him, how Ozpin had no reason to trust a bunch of teenagers, how important it was that both sides admit their mistakes, but if you're reading this recap you're likely already familiar with all that. Rather, what I want to emphasize here is that our opinions on Ozpin don't even matter here. Even those who take his apology at face value — fully believing he did fail them, he should have told them everything from the start, and that him leaving was "running away" rather than being driven off — even if we accept for just a moment that Ozpin is as guilty as the show says and heinous as the fandom claims... surely he's not as bad as Emerald? In roughly chronological order she has:

Tried to ally herself with Adam along with Cinder and Mercury

Helped to attack Amber, resulting in injuries that would have killed her if Cinder hadn't gotten to her first

Helped kill Tukson

Pretended to be a transfer student and Ruby's friend for the rest of the semester (that’s a lie that would breed mistrust)

Tricked the world into thinking that Yang had attacked Mercury unprovoked

Uses her semblance on Pyrrha, causing her to unintentionally kill Penny

All of this was in service of the Fall of Beacon, an event that destroyed a school, killed an unknown number of students, killed Pyrrha, and lost Yang her arm

Participated in the attack on Haven which, beyond the intent to further Salem's goals, nearly got Weiss killed

Came to Atlas to assist in the next attack

Went after Penny, Pietro, and Maria — two of whom might still be in trouble depending on if Amity literally fell out of the sky

Listened to Oscar being tortured, hemming and hawing for a while before realizing that, if the whole world is in danger, she's in danger too

Finally jumped ship

Emerald is one of the bad guys. All the sad looks over the years doesn't change that. Yet somehow an antagonist we've had since Volume 1 is considered more trustworthy than Ozpin, a man who hasn't intentionally helped kill their friends and who has been helping and apologizing for months now.

Yang "Aww"s when Emerald speaks. Just sit with that for a second. The woman who went through all of that horror because of Emerald, who just last episode was correctly saying they can't expect her to forget all that, is going "Aww" after... Emerald helped hold Penny for two seconds? This is ridiculous. These are the faces of the group when talking about Emerald's trust

whereas these are their expressions when talking about Ozpin's

It’s not a matter of who deserves trust or not, here it’s purely a matter of comparison. Emerald should not be more quickly forgiven than Ozpin.

Now toss in the story Ozpin tells. Unsurprisingly, it's another fairy tale — we've gotten a little heavy-handed lately — about a young girl who flees the consequences of a choice and, having never learned from her initial failure, spreads even more trouble. That's Ruby. That is Ruby to a T in this episode and the last three volumes. She is literally a young girl who has caused staggering consequences, literally ran away from the conversation about those consequences, and is now poised to continue making those mistakes because everyone keeps reinforcing her flaws. That's Ruby, yet somehow the show thinks it's Ozpin. He positions himself as the young girl here, as if he didn't face his consequences generations ago when he left the cabin, didn't learn from his mistakes by keeping Salem's secret, and hadn't been driven away by the very people he's asking for a second chance. This scene has everything backwards and while normally I'd grab hold of the possibility that maybe things will right themselves later on... we're done. This is the ending of that arc. After two years of saying, "Maybe, maybe, maybe," Ozpin has been taken back into the fold after begging his way back in. There's no more time to correct things. RWBY missed its chance. Weiss says that "Trust is a risk" and that's how Ozpin is forgiven. They have taken the risk of trusting him again after months of reflection, life-saving actions, and apologies. Emerald is granted the risk of trust in under an hour. I’ve heard so many people say they’re dropping RWBY this volume and scenes like this are precisely why.

Ugh. Heavy stuff, folks! I feel like I need to lighten the mood. Here, let's take a moment to acknowledge that the Schnees and Klein only marginally know what's happening.

Someone help them.

That is, to all intents and purposes, the end of our episode. Ruby has some sort of epiphany about actually handing Penny over — "That's actually a risk we haven't considered" — and Ironwood will no doubt fall for whatever plan they've concocted because he's stupid now. He receives a call from Ruby saying they agree to his terms, Watts is attempting to get communication of his own up and running, and Neo arrives to do... whatever she intends to do. Idk, I have assumed she wanted Ruby, but Cinder obviously doesn't have her yet for a trade off. Regardless, Neo is ready for a fight while Cinder just smiles. Team up 2.0?

As for bingo, I'm using my free space for "Worst redemption arc I've ever seen," with an honorary nod to Hazel too, and Ozpin's square gets blacked out in exes because that was just #bad.

This bingo board is a mess. Appropriate lol

Three more weeks, everyone. Hang in there! 💜

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #rwby risk #mymetas #rwby recaps

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

Guardian of the lost soul

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: if what the reader dress as an angel (kinda like Supernatural angels) and she finds the scoobies gang in the haunted house with the costumes magically change them. (you know the episode ^-^) only this time , Spike sees her wings and in angel terms that's a soulmate.

Requested by: @everlastingartist

A/N: Kind of a soulmate au I think? I am not familiar with the Supernatural angels (yet - I plan on actually watching it soon) I did google them and I’m still none the wiser lol. So this is my own interpretation of what was requested! I chose a guardian angel, and twisted it in my own way. It is very made up but that’s what I’m here to do!

Also I mashed up two Halloween episodes together for this one but Spike doesn’t have a chip. Not even a soul. But he finds his soulmate.🖤🦇

You loved Halloween in Sunnydale, it never disappointed. The pumpkins were freshly carved, there was candy everywhere you turned and kids really did love dressing up and making a nuisance of themselves. Even when you were running for your life the mood always picked up somewhere after midnight. And hey, being friends with a very protective Slayer had its benefits.

You were basically skipping around the streets, you were excited about going to the haunted house. You had tried to convince Willow, along with buffy to take the ghost costume off but she flat out refused. Even when you begged all the way to the party. You wanted to get to the end so you could join the party with your friends and you waited briefly for everyone to show up so you could enter together. While you and Willow waited outside, a figure in a dark cloak pushed past you. There was something about them that you recognised but they muttered some insult at you for being in their way so you decided to just ignore them. Eventually, everyone arrived and you were able

You had chosen to dress as an angel. A guardian angel. Not the stereotypical kind, one you had read of in some of Giles’ thick mythology books. You had been bored and the passages had been surprisingly interesting in an I’m-so-bored-I’d-read-the-back-of-a-cereal-packet kind of way. It spoke of the kinds of angels, of the truth about how they operate rather than those spoken of in popular culture. Some of your costume was white however as you wanted people to at least recognise what you had come as (although nobody except Willow had got it).

You went through the various rooms together and had a laugh at some of the more ridiculous spooks in the house. There had been a slight tension a few words exchanged but mostly you were having a nice time. Everyone was squabbling over which way to go next and you had lost interest, managing to break away from the others.

As you did this, you saw the hooded figure again. You were sure you recognised the flashes you had seen of the person’s face. You left your friends for a moment to tap them on the shoulder and who should turn to face you but the big bad of the moment. Spike. You hadn’t faced him alone yet but he had always singled you out when you were with the others. The conversation always turned suggestive, which annoyed Buffy to no end and made you try to hide yourself when you were with the others.

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t love the attention though. Hope that he would catch your eye. You longed for even a moment alone with him, although you were well aware of the danger. You couldn’t help like him but there was no way you would ever admit that to your friends.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to suppress a smile.

“Thought I’d drop by… see what tasty… treats Halloween has to offer” He closed the space between you as his voice became a little huskier with every step. His hand was on the wall, palm flat against it. His arm blocking you in as he slowly scanned your body before returning to your face.

“What has the devil got in store for you this Halloween do you reckon pet?” He asked, the smirk audible in his voice, “Somethin’ naughty no doubt…” He added, biting his lip teasingly.

“I’m an angel. Always preferred them anyway” You shrugged. It had been a very low blow and when you saw his expression darkening into anger rather than lust, you backtracked – knowing better than to get him mad, “To the devil, I mean”

“Bollocks – where are the wings? The halo? And you’re not foolin’ anyone wearing that white-” he gestured wildly to the corresponding area where each item should have been with the hand that wasn’t leaning against the wall. You smiled, about to respond when someone interrupted.

“Spike!” Buffy shouted, having turned to find you in the haunted house. She was relieved to see you (as she had lost the others) but she was not pleased to see the vampire that still had you boxed in, pressed pretty close against you.

Buffy made light work of hauling him away and trying to throw him out of the house completely. She tried to find the front door but it had gone. You were now aware you were trapped inside this now truly haunted house. No, it was worse. It had turned into a murder house as half the student body upstairs had started to scare themselves to death almost before the real threat had.

Everyone was rushing past you and as Spike smelled fresh blood, he ran in the opposite direction to where the others were coming from, straight into the carnage. His stomach was rumbling and he was ready for a decent meal.

Everything was going on at once and you wanted it to slow down, or at least give you chance for a breather. There were too many threats at play tonight. As if the powers had requested it this way, a busy scene of threat and revelations for their own personal enjoyment.

As you tried again and again to leave and to help find the others, things started to get worse. You had now lost Buffy and were trying to find her by (you guessed it) calling out her name which was the best way to attract anything other than good luck. You had to fight off some cobwebs and now, your own body it seemed. You were hurting, doubled over. Something was happening. You sunk to your knees, grimacing. Nothing was going your way.

It was a strange night. The strangest Halloween you had experienced. The others were lost and at the same moment, Willow turned into a real ghost. Xander a real soldier and Buffy was now a genuine high society lady from the 1700s. It was spooky and not in a cute way.

You had managed to get to your feet, pulling on the cobwebs as they attacked your head again. As you looked down checking you had removed any stray webbing, you saw that you were glowing. Literally. You appeared human still - no wings or halos but there was a strange feeling that you had aged hundreds of years in just a few seconds. Not in appearance, that was still your skin and your face. But in knowledge. As if you had read every book known to man and then some. You felt powerful. Strange.

You walked around, able to know what was happening in every room. You managed to get places just by thinking about it. Able to protect people before they succumbed to the terrors the house had in store. You didn’t know how this was happening, but you knew better than to question it.

You had hope. You had a purpose and you were getting used to adapting to different people and their needs. That was until it came to something you needed. You turned and saw your friends through a two way mirror. They had all found each other but you couldn’t get to them. They were trying to remember who they were and come up with a plan. You started to panic, banging your fist on the mirror that you could see them through but they didn’t hear you. You hurriedly left through a side door to try and get to them seeing as your previous power wasn’t working. But you never made it to your friends. You had walked straight into someone. The one someone that you always managed to find, no matter what.

Spike had appeared. He seemed the same except... was that a heart beat? You frowned as he stepped towards you, the swagger still in tact.

“You listened to me then, pet? About time” He muttered as you looked at him confused. You didn’t understand. You looked around for some kind of clue until he spoke again, “The wings. You put ‘em on. Knew it would complete the look… not that you need to be wearing any more clothin’ items” He added, the trademark smirk on his face as he almost prowled towards you further.

“I’m not wearing any wings…” You said slowly as he came to stand right in front of you, leaving not so much as room to breath between you. He frowned, and looked behind you before looking back into your eyes. He could see the wings as clear as anything. They had a large wingspan, it was kind of impossible to miss. He reached out the touch them and you felt his fingers. You frowned, checking behind you. There they were, bat-like rather than the feathered kind you had expected and almost translucent whilst appearing closer to your skin tone. He found them aesthetically very appealing. Almost as if it were a part of you. He just stared, almost in awe as he felt they were warm the texture as soft as your skin.

It came to you suddenly. The folklore you had been researching. The mythology. The only one that may see the wings of the angel is their soulmate. Their one eternal love. It was said that every angel had a soulmate and that no matter how long they lived, they should find their soul no matter how seemingly impossible. No matter how many times they were lost, they would always be found. And you had found yours. Your love.

You and Spike had been less than useless during the fight to escape the haunted house and regain your own lives back. You were perfectly happy right here. Locked in each others gaze. A happiness neither of you had felt before until this moment. Until this revelation. You had been sharing. Talking so easily to one another. Him telling you stories of his past, and you surprising yourself with stories of your own. Ones that could match his. You felt an entrenched need to protect him. To hold you into him so that no harm could ever befall him.

The chaos going on around you was now secondary to your story. You holed up in a room together, Spike never looking away from you. The guardian angel in you was screaming for you to help the others again, but your heart was set on him. On relearning of your love. You had faith in your friends abilities anyway.

He leaned in, his thumb trailing your face and lingering near your lips. He had thought about this for so long. His usual crude quips had been founded in truth. Forged to both show how he felt and camouflage them at the same time. He felt for you so deeply his soul had made an unwitting appearance back into his life. Whenever you were around his heart felt as if it may break free from his ribcage in the hopes of greeting yours.

You closed your eyes as he did, the build up to this kiss achingly slow. You could feel his breath on his face he was so close. His touch was warm and familiar, his lips made for yours. You could feel it. The anticipation almost became too much as he finally grazed your lips.

But, just as suddenly as it was cast, the spell broke. The feeling of danger returned to your gut as you were in Spike’s presence. Your kiss never deepening. Your stomach flipping as you snapped opened your eyes. Spike’s vampire instincts kicked back in and it was resoundingly telling him that he was hungry. Your scent was so enticing to him, his face changed of its own accord. His fangs so close to you but you knew he wouldn’t kill you. You knew it as if it were fact. As if it were gravity or the colour of the sky being blue. Spike loved you and wouldn’t harm you. They were each true sentences, you had never been so sure.

Buffy, however, now fresh from being bound in the sensibilities of a woman with no aspirations other than to be pretty was ready for a fight. She had fought to escape the haunted house and now she would fight the nearest big bad in sight. Spike. She wrenched him from your neck.

But when he drew back, he had the same look in his eye as he had only moments before. Your soulmate was still right here in front of you, there was nobody that could convince you otherwise. And believe me, Spike really tried since then.

Buffy and Spike traded blows. Neither became victorious, but you were able to leave the house and Giles had somehow managed to force Ethan Rayne into reversing the curse he had put on your costumes.

After that long Halloween night, your mind barely stopped thinking about him. Sometimes you walked around after dark to see if he would come along and pretend to eat you as an excuse to just talk to you. He often wished to find an excuse to see you. Without knowing what it was, he felt it too. Deep within. Stronger since Halloween night. Sometimes he found himself standing around in places he knew you would frequent just so he could watch you. Catch a glimpse of you. Although, he had been doing this before Halloween as well.

You remembered so much more than that night, however. Memories that should have been long since buried of you and Spike finding each other over and over in other places and times still lingered as you wished his thumb still would along your jaw. You still remembered those memories and you wrote them all down before you could forget. They were like dreams, something you knew so well but struggled to recall in enough detail to satisfy.

You would forever carry a piece of his soul around with you now. That feeling just couldn’t go away, you wouldn’t let it. It was as if his soul were a locket hung around your neck. You would guard it with your life. Keep it close to your heart.

He would come back to you, you were sure of it and you were happy to wait until that day came.

#A very Buffy halloween #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike x you #Spike imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned #soulmate au #kind of #Halloween #halloween fic #Halloween request

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maybankiara · 4 years

Text

MY GOD, YOU’RE A SWEET THING

pairing: JJ Maybank x Female!Reader

prompt: “When the sun sets and darkness comes, I only remember your warmth, where the stars wrap around us. I’m going there, I’ll be there”- Highlight by SEVENTEEN (from my song prompt list)

summary: It’s prom night and JJ has a surprise planned for you.

word count: 3.1k

additional: i was listening to hozier while writing this and this ended up being the most emotional fluffy piece i’ve ever written, which was completely the opposite of my initial idea for the prompt (it was supposed to be more about the darkness - ended up being about the stars instead). i highly recommend listening to heavenly day by patty griffin as you read, specifically from the middle onwards (you’ll be able to tell).

written for @kiarasflowr

requests are open

‘You look amazing,’ your sister says.

You look at her and feel the smile taking over your entire face; her eyes are gazing at you in awe, her mouth agape, and you never thought you’d be able to get a reaction like this out of her.

‘Thank you, Lou.’

‘Don’t let it get to your head,’ she replies, spreading across your bed. ‘It’s one day out of thousands.’

‘JJ thinks I’m amazing every day.’

Louise snorts. ‘Believe me, he doesn’t.’

‘Scoot, you pest.’

Despite your words, you cannot help but smile at your little sister. She completely ignores your order and remains seated on your bed, typing away on her phone. You turn around your axis, watching as the fabric of the dress flows with each of your movements.

You spent months looking for it. Kiara and Sarah helped out as much as they could, but where Sarah was overly girly, Kiara was overly boyish for your taste, and you ended up finding the dress alone, with Lou by your side. The material is light, a faded blue, and it feels as if you aren’t wearing anything at all.

Louise was the one who helped you out with your hair, managing to get it to look all nice and put in all the right places. You did your own makeup, with Louise helping out every now and then, and you think you look good.

Like you told Lou, JJ is going to like you no matter what. It doesn’t hurt that you’d like to exceptionally good for a change, too.

Not long after, the doorbell rings. Even Louise’s face lights up as she realises what time it is. She walks you to the stairs and you hear your dad open the door, even though you asked to be the one to do so.

It doesn’t matter.

Lou steps in front of you, unable to shy away from the grin on her face. ‘He’s going to fall on his ass when he sees you.’

You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow. ‘You think so?’

‘Puh-lease. You look like a freaking goddess. Do you think I’m shabby with anything I do?’

‘Sure thing, Lou. It’s all you.’

‘Damn right it is.’ She leans over the ledge and peeks into the hallway. ‘She’ll be right down!’

‘Did you see him?’ you ask.

‘Mhm.’

‘What does he look like?’

Lou peeks over the ledge again, then grins. ‘He matched the tie. And the handkerchief. Y/N, stop smiling like that, it’s too much.’

‘Oh shut up, Lou!’

‘You ready?’

‘Don’t make a big fuss out of it.’

She nods, stepping backwards towards the beginning of the staircase. ‘Duly noted and consciously ignored. Ladies and gentlemen,’ Lou announces, ‘welcome Y/N Y/L/N, and prepare to be amazed. Maybank, if she doesn’t come back in one piece, I’ll cut off your di—’

‘Enough,’ you hear your dad say sternly, even if his voice is at the edge of cracking up. There’s another nervous chuckle that you recognise as your boyfriend’s, and your heart flutters in your chest.

Louise walks down first and you follow right behind. The heels are medium high but it still takes you a bit longer to make your way down, making the whole thing more dramatic than it already is.

You keep your eyes on the ground and you tell yourself it’s because you don’t want to miss a step – in reality, you know that the moment you look up, the magic will either devour you whole, or dissipate.

But you do, because you come to the last step, and your eyes lock with JJ’s and—

If you didn’t believe in magic before, you do now.

‘Hi,’ he says, except he stammers it, and you see him struggling to contain himself as a wide smile spreads across his face. ‘You look – Um, you’re stunning.’

You smile, walk over to him, and kiss him on the cheek. He’s wearing a suit that Kiara’s dad gave him and it looks good on him, making him a little less scrawny than he usually seems. You giggle when you notice that Louise wasn’t kidding when she said he matched his tie and handkerchief with your dress.

‘Kie and Pope helped out,’ he mumbles.

‘It looks dashingly handsome,’ you say honestly, loving the effect your words have on him. He blushes and he looks away, staring at behind you as you fix his tie. ‘They did a good job.’

‘Stop complimenting me. I don’t know how to react.’

This is where the conversation ends, as your dad steps between the two of you to take photos. Your whole family poses with you and your mom quickly takes over your dad’s place in the pictures. JJ finds it amusing and even though he doesn’t say anything, you can tell he wishes his family could give him this experience, too.

Instead, you just squeeze his hand and brush through his hair with your fingertips, hoping that he knows that you are his family.

The rest of the Pogues are waiting for the two of you outside, in John B’s van. Lots of compliments are exchanged and you were right when you thought the whole group would look amazing – both Sarah and Kiara look just as good as you feel, and the boys match the vibe perfectly.

You sit in the back, with your hand in JJ’s lap as he plays with your fingers. You’re not nervous anymore – it’s impossible to be nervous when you’re with him.

It’s a good feeling to walk into your gym hall and see it entirely redecorated into a dance venue, littered with balloons and tapestries and tables and chairs and glasses and lots of punch that you are certain has already been spiked. John B takes the lead towards your table, holding Sarah’s hand. The whole group sits down and thankfully, the tables are set for six people, and you know you’re not going to be bothered by anyone else.

JJ leans into your ear soon after the music begins. ‘Let’s go take pictures.’

‘Seriously?’

He nods.

‘I thought you said prom pictures are dumb.’

‘Well,’ he says, playing with your fingers again, ‘I decided that they’re not dumb if I want memories of tonight.’

You grin at him and kiss him quickly, briefly, knowing that in just a few hours, you’d be able to do more than that. ‘You’re a softie.’

‘Hush. Don’t let anyone hear you.’

The two of you chat and laugh as you walk over to the photo booth. Someone on the prom committee decided that having a person taking the photos would be too expensive, so all you’ve got it a shitty photo booth. Somehow, it fits the vibe, too.

Everything seems about tonight seems to be perfect. You’re just waiting for it to crash.

You sit down and JJ pulls you into his lap, kissing you fully on the mouth. You don’t have a lot of time so he places a few quick kisses on your neck, before looking up at you. ‘Do you think they have cameras in here?’

‘I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.’

‘It’s America.’ JJ shrugs. ‘They can do whatever they want.’

You laugh and brush the hair off his forehead, giving it a kiss. ‘I think we’re good.’

At this, JJ reaches into the pocket of his vest and takes out a small flask. By his devilish grin, you can tell you’re not going to be using that to spike any punches.

He unwinds the cap and raises it to you. ‘Ladies first.’

‘Yes, sir.’ You take a swig and feel the whiskey burn in your throat, but you let it simmer. It’s good whiskey – probably the best one you’ve ever had. You don’t want to know where and how JJ got it.

Once you’ve both had a bit each, you finally take those photos. They’re goofy, mostly, and perfect representations of your relationship with JJ, and you know they’ll be something you’ll cherish for the rest of your life. But then just as you think you’re done, JJ tells you that he wants to take some proper ones.

‘Never thought I’d hear you say that,’ you admit.

JJ shrugs, his eyes glancing to your lips. ‘Never thought I’d attend a prom with you.’

‘Sap.’

‘Quiet.’

He puts the coin in the place and holds you close, gazing into your eyes. The flash goes off and you’re expecting him to move, except he doesn’t – he only drops his gaze to your lips and kisses you softly, lips barely brushing against yours.

The flash goes off again and you hardly notice. JJ leans his forehead against yours, cradling your cheeks with a delicate touch, as if you were something he’s afraid to crush underneath his fingertips.

The flash goes off for the last time. The sound of the pictures being printed is loud, and you can tell someone is waiting to get into the booth, but all of this could just as easily not be happening.

The only thing you’re aware of is your face in JJ’s hands, his forehead against yours, his breath fanning your lips lightly, the smell of whiskey prominent.

‘I love you,’ he whispers.

You kiss the words from his mouth.

Some time later, everyone in your group is quite tipsy. The punch has been spiked, the whiskey has been shared (turns out, all the boys chipped in for the whiskey as a gift to the girls), and the songs have been danced to. It’s easy and it’s natural, and it just feels like a fancy party at the Boneyard.

It’s one of the best nights of your life.

You and JJ dance with the rest of the group to most songs, but you sit down for the slow ones. It’s for JJ, mostly, as you know he doesn’t trust in his slow dancing skills enough to do it in front of everybody.

Whenever he apologises for it, you squeeze his hand and tell him that you’re happy, anyway. It would make the night even better, but it doesn’t make it any less great.

JJ kisses you, without a fail, every time you give him reassurance. You’re definitely one of the most PDA couples, with John B and Sarah still taking the cake.

At almost the very end of the night, with some half hour left before the after party at the Boneyard, JJ gets up from his seat, during one of the slow songs.

‘C’mon,’ he says, tugging at your hand.

You get up, fumbling with your dress, your eyebrows furrowed but a smile dancing in the corners of your lips. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Shh.’

JJ leads you through the hall and out of it, sneaking past the policemen guarding the entrance to the gym hall, and all the way to the inside of the building. You keep wanting to ask questions and he keeps shushing you, a vibrant smile on his face.

It’s the thrill that’s keeping you both going. You can hear your heart thumping in your chest and the dress flows around your legs as you run as quietly as possible, holding JJ’s hand. You’re laughing with a hand over your mouth, and when he looks at you, the adoration in his eyes almost melts you.

When you finally come to a halt, it’s right in front of the balcony through the school’s art gallery. JJ fumbles through his pocket with one hand, not letting go of yours.

‘JJ—’

He shushes you again. You press your lips together, feeling both immense excitement and the early bubbles of annoyance with constantly being hushed. You watch as JJ takes a bunch of keys and puts one of them in the key hole, grinning at you devilishly.

You sigh, shake your head, and give in to the smile that overtakes every other emotion on your face.

JJ pushes the door open and motions for you to walk in first, which you do. He closes the door behind you, quietly, and rubs his thumb against the palm of your hand.

The music from the hall is long enough for you to hear it even now; JJ keeps checking his wristwatch, leading you through the gallery.

‘What are we doing?’ you whisper. ‘And if you shush me again—’

He crashes his lips against yours. His hands cradle your neck, thumbs moving along your jaw, and the kiss eases into softness. Your hands instinctively find themselves at his sides, and he steps closer, until there’s no space between you.

You feels his breath on your lips and both of you are out of breath, even though you shouldn’t be.

This feels like something more.

When you look at him, JJ’s eyes are closed.

‘What are we doing?’

‘Wait,’ he whispers.

His eyes open and he kisses you again, quickly, before taking your hand again and leading you through the gallery, to the balcony. He unlocks the door and closes it once you’re both out, in the fresh air. You’re surprised that you can hear the music well, as the air carries it in an unusual way – it’s loud but faint in melody, almost as it were sang by nature itself.

It’s the second time that night that you believe in magic.

‘How do you like it?’

You look at JJ and find him smiling at you, his gaze taking you in. He always looks at you with hunger, but one that’s nothing like the hunger you see in most boys – this is something deeper, a different kind of craving, one that isn’t wanting your body, but your soul, instead.

You take a step closer and kiss him on the cheek, the way you always do. Your hands cradle his face and your thumb brushes the edges of his lips, your eyes following your finger.

‘I love it, J.’

He smiles and you can almost see him breathe out the tension within him. ‘Good. But that’s not it.’

‘It’s not?’

‘Nope.’ He steps back and creates space between you, before taking your hands in his. ‘Do you trust me?’

You consider it. ‘Not really.’

JJ laughs and twirls you around. ‘Smart girl. I need you to trust me now.’

‘Don’t throw me off the roof, please.’

‘Y/N’—he tugs you close, breath fanning your lips—‘don’t ruin the mood.’

You smile. ‘Okay.’

He doesn’t give you a response, only takes a step back and twirls you to the music again, and soon enough both of you are laughing. You’re struggling to stay on your feet as the heels and alcohol combination isn’t the best, but it makes it all the funnier.

You’ve done this so many times, yet each time, it feels different; new.

He twirls you once more and you stumble, ending up with your back pressed against his chest. He wraps his hands around your abdomen and rests his chin on the top of your head, swaying both of you to the rhythm of the song. You find yourself relaxing into his touch, almost as if there’s no other place you belong more.

This—JJ Maybank—is your home.

Another song begins to play, a slow one, and you recognise it – it’s a song that you always jokingly said would play at your wedding. It’s also the song that you always associated with JJ – it somehow always played in the key moments between you two.

You turn around and look him in the eye; he’s smiling, but his eyes are a little scared. ‘Did you set this up?’

‘The DJ owed me a favour.’

You laugh and lean your head against his chest, feeling your shoulders shake. He pulls you even closer and you sway to the rhythm of the song again, only this time it feels…

It feels different.

JJ is singing along to the lyrics, whispering them against your ear. He moves his feet, too, reluctantly at first. You glance up at him and find him smiling, looking at you with the same adoration that makes you feel as if the world could not be better.

He twirls you around, gently, and he holds you as he dances in circles around the balcony, and he sings, and you just see him loving you.

You don’t know when you start crying, but you are, and his eyes aren’t dry, either. There’s smiles on both your faces and you feel your heart beating, your pals sweating, and you feel more alive than ever before.

The song finishes and JJ brings you to a halt, still as another song begins. A few strands have fallen out of your hairstyle as you were dancing and he tucks them behind your ears, gently. His touch is gentle and brief, and you find yourself aching for more.

He looks at you and the only word that comes to your mind is love.

‘Every time my life went a little sideways,’ he whispers, ‘you were there to keep me from doing the same. You were the one thing keeping me in place, no matter what shit was going on. I know that in fall, we need to go each our own way, and we’ll see what happens. But I just want you to know – I love you. With my whole heart. And I always will.’

You pull your lips into your mouth so you wouldn’t sob; there are tears running down your face and you can’t blink them away fast enough. He wipes them away, with the tips of his thumbs, and you’ve never felt more loved.

‘I love you,’ you whisper back.

JJ places a soft kiss on your lips. You expect him to deepen it, but he pulls back. ‘I want you to know that you’re always going to be the person who pulls me out of the darkness, even if you’re not there.’

‘Don’t talk like that,’ you say, your voice as shaky as your breath. ‘I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘I know.’ He kisses your forehead and you feel the tears on his lips. ‘I know. What I’m saying is that you’re all I want, Y/N. No one else. And I’m not asking anything from you, but I want you to know that forever with you is the only thing I could ever want.’

You look up at him and the intensity of his gaze is almost too much to bear. ‘Are you proposing to me?’

He chuckles, lightly. ‘Not yet. But I will, eventually, if you allow me.’

‘Yes,’ you say, quietly. ‘Even if it’s years from now, I will.’

‘Good,’ he says, confidently, but you feel him shake when he presses his lips against yours. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose you.’

You run your fingers through his hair, smiling into the kiss, feeling his warmth. ‘You won’t,’ you promise.

That night you learn that sometimes real life can be magical, too.

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine #jj maybank fic #my imagine #my fic #jj x reader #requested #f: obx #c: jj

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vaniri · 3 years

Text

Helping hand [Johnny Silverhand x V]

On their way home from Clouds, Johnny decides to end V’s life. Or help her, she is not sure anymore ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Contains all the good stuff: fingering, a bit of dirty talk (at least until V tells Johnny to shut up), Johnny being Johnny™, and public embarrassment. Does not contain: plot. Who needs that?

18+ only, obviously

As always, HUGE THANKS and I LOVE YOU to @ugh-my-back for helping me out with this little creation and doing the beta 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

______________________________________________________

Johnny felt almost sorry for that pathetic piece of unfortunate shit he’d been involuntarily attached to. She had a simple task – go to a brothel, get the information she needed, get laid because that’s why you go to establishments of that kind, and leave. And literally nothing went according to plan: she didn’t learn much, got fucking psychoanalyzed instead of laid, and was shot at on her way out because she had to sniff around, having the sneaking skills of a drunk teenager. Only V could have that luck.

“I said that getting off was waiting for you in Clouds? I take it back.” He mocked her, materializing in the passenger seat of her car. “Was almost right about getting offed, though.”

“Please shut up and go back to pretending you don’t exist.” Tired and exasperated after what she’d been through, she didn’t even shoot him a glance, trying to focus on the road.

“I left you there for five minutes, so you could get shagged in peace, and not only did you fuck that up but also wound up in a shooting turned massacre. You should have just fucked that doll and bailed, like any normal person would."

"We weren't there to fuck anyone, remember?"

"Yeah, and we should be. You should be. Tell me, V, is your cunt sealed with cobwebs already? Because I scoured your memories, out of boredom, and it’s been a long, loooong while since you had some action there."

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, there too.”

“You really know how to brighten the day, don’t you?”

“And you really don’t feel how sexually frustrated you are? Because I do.” He turned in his seat to face her. Being a woman was fucked up in general, he found out - all these hormones and stuff Johnny didn't even try to understand - but the level of stress she was living under was absolutely crushing. The majority of it was obviously caused by the chip and everything that was going on in V's life lately, but a part of it, not a small one, came from her sexual starvation. And lack of sleep. Or maybe her abstinence led to insomnia, Johnny wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that she – they – were constantly tired as of late. And horny. Very horny. “And I don’t like it a bit. If I were you, I’d start jerking off right here and now.”

“Please don’t.” A look of dread flitted across her face.

“I won’t. But you should.”

“I’m driving, if you haven’t noticed. I really want to get us home in one piece, and as soon as possible.” She needed a shower and some takeout to make herself feel better, and maybe a cold one too. ”So eyes on the road, hands on the wheel.”

“Fine. I’ll lend you a hand, then.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to drive a car. You’re not corporeal, you know.”

“I was rather thinking about fingering you.”

“WHAT?”

“Eyes on the road.” He chided her, visibly amused by the utter horror showing on her face. “I’m just saying that I want to help you. No strings attached, don’t worry. Treat it as a friendly favor.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Aww, V, that hurt.”

“Good. Now fuck off.” She seemed adamant, but he noticed that her hands, now gripping the wheel for dear life, were shaking a little. She was both abashed by the thought of being this intimate with Johnny and genuinely thinking about it. Considering. Imagining.

He knew her thoughts. He lived in her brain and he could read her like an open book. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and what she was thinking about him, he knew about her fascination and curiosity. And her constant denial about it.

It wouldn’t be hard to get what he wanted, never had been for him. And all he currently wanted was to get in her pants.

“Come on V, I’ve seen the thoughts that keep you awake at night. All of them. These about me too.” He purred, caressing her taut arm with his silver fingers. “I’m not going to tease you about them. Just want you to know that I know about your little fantasies. And appreciate your taste.”

“Sure.” She murmured, flustered.

“I will gladly show you that reality can be even better. If you let me.” He put his organic hand on her thigh. She didn’t immediately push it off, which was a promising sign. “So, what do you say? Will I get a yes? I may be an asshole and love sex way too much, but I would never go on someone without clear consent.”

“How considerate of you.”

“I’m serious, V. And I really just want to help. If you don’t blow off some steam anytime soon we’re both going to explode. Not the best way to go, trust me on that.”

Johnny saw how intensely she was thinking about it, processing what she had heard, weighing pros and cons. And he was waiting patiently for her answer, gently but not intrusively massaging her leg.

“If you ever mock me about it, or use it against me, I will rip both your silver arm and your cock off. Somehow.” She warned with a serious glare, finally giving up. She spread her legs a little, inviting his hand further, her face turning bright red.

“I would never. But eyes on the road, please.” He reminded her, an amused smile plastered on his face. His hand snuck past the hem of her trousers, rubbing the soft skin of her lower abdomen. “Smooth.”

“Not for you.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” His hand continued its journey down her groin. V’s breath hitched in her throat and body squirmed involuntarily when he dragged his fingers along her folds. “Easy girl, I barely touched you.”

“Should I maybe pull over somewhere?”

“And make a show for everyone passing the car by? Kinky.” Johnny leaned towards her, his lips nearly touching her earlobe. He was so close that V could feel his hot breath on her skin and smell the stench of his favorite cigarettes lingering on him. As if he was real, she thought. She couldn’t dwell on it for long though, not with his hand skillfully stroking her slit, up and down, in a steady pace. “Just focus on the road. And try not to come after five seconds, deal?”

He cupped her crotch and a breathy “yes” was the only response V managed to give.

Her pussy was just as Johnny had expected – hot and slick, already dripping, craving stimulation his fingers were so eager to provide. He had so many plans for her, yet so little time, considering how touch-starved and sensitive V was. He thought that maybe he should suggest to fuck her properly, but in their current position it had to wait. Slightly disappointing, but Johnny was fine with that. He loved sex, but watching his girls squirm and moan under his touch was even ten times better than coming himself.

“Nice little cunt you have here.” He tested the waters, slipping one finger in. “Tight and wet, definitely my type.”

“Just stop talking and do what you have to do.” V had a really hard time focusing on the road. She already slowed down, trying her best not to crash into a lamp or another car, and Johnny’s words were making the situation even more challenging.

“And where’s the fun in that?” He was already fingering her deeply, setting a fast pace. ”Without telling you how much I appreciate your body? By the way, have I mentioned that your tits are fucking great?” Johnny’s metal hand cupped her breast, causing soft gasp to escape her mouth. “Amazing. I’d cu-“

“Stop. Talking. PLEASE.”

“Alright, alright, mouth shut. For now.”

Watching V try to keep her body and its reactions under control, while his slick fingers with her juices started massaging her clit, was fun. And dosing her pleasure like he wanted amused Johnny even more. He stopped his ministrations every time V bucked her hips up trying to rub against his hand, or did anything to get more friction, a wry smile twisted at his lips when she shot him a furious glance or made a discontent sound. Yes, it was supposed to be a quick finger fuck, but how could he finish it so fast when he was enjoying it so much? How could he deny himself having his fun with her, having her all to himself like that, a little longer?

Johnny was reluctant to admit it, but truth to be told, he’d had his eyes on her almost from the beginning. V was a woman - an attractive one, there was no doubt for that - and he was a simple man. He couldn’t resist watching her when she was changing or taking a shower (she knew), or even sleeping sprawled on her bed, with that stupid smile on her blissful face. He wanted to see more of her, and sometimes he caught himself thinking of touching her, feeling her in this way. He tried to convince himself that he felt like that because of his fifty years of celibacy, that she wasn’t his type and it was just his cock speaking. But there was something about V, something that attracted him to her like corpo scums attracted his bullets.

And to be honest, did he even have a type? Pretty face, a pair of tits, willing cunt and nice ass - that was enough to get him going. And V fitted that description perfectly.

To V’s relief, and Johnny’s probably too as his existence depended on whether she was alive or not, their car got stuck in a traffic jam, huge as always at this hour in this part of Night City. Now she could fully focus on Johnny and his hand, working its magic in her pants.

She shifted in her seat, adjusting her position to give him better access to her already dripping entrance. He immediately accepted her invitation, sliding a finger inside, one at first, then second, slowly, giving V time to get used to the stretch. He fingered her deeply, in a steady pace, reveling in the squelchy sounds his hand was making, smiling widely every time a breathy moan escaped her parted lips. Sometimes it was just incoherent babbling, sometimes a mantra of “fuck”s. But then, when she was close to coming, it was mostly his name.

“Such a good girl.” He praised her, getting back to stroking her clit. “Ready to cum?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

“I want to feel it.”

His fingers were back inside her pussy, picking up the pace, fucking her harder than before. He was determined to give her the best finger fuck of her life, and after seeing her memories he knew that there wasn’t much to compete with. V had had several partners in her life but, obviously, none of them could measure up to Johnny Silverhand and he was keen to show her why he was so popular among women back in his days. He put his entire heart into working her cunt up and it quickly paid off. V was completely lost in pleasure; her head fell back, eyes closed, moans turned into wails.

She put out quite a show and was so busy chasing her release that she didn’t notice that the guy in the car next to theirs was watching her intensely with a mixture of concern and fascination on his face. She was sure a sight to behold: disheveled, flushed and panting like after running a marathon, and rutting her needy cunt furiously against Johnny’s hand. A hand only she could see. A sudden wave of anger surged through Johnny. Back in his younger days he was quite a fan of public sex, never afraid of being caught, and to be honest not much changed in that matter. He would gladly show this loser who V belonged to and who was making her scream, force him to bashfully avert his eyes and never look at her again. But sadly, he couldn’t, and that frustrated him immensely.

He couldn’t even show that fucker a middle finger. Being dead sucked.

“V, could you do something for me?” Luckily, he had another idea.

“What?” She opened her eyes, looking at him questioningly.

“Scream my name so loud that the entire Watson knows who's making you cum.”

She wanted to snort at his request, but her breath hitched in her throat when Johnny’s lips landed on her neck with a sloppy kiss, escaping it as a loud moan seconds later when his metal hand began working on her clit. And with his organic fingers hitting that right spot inside her, she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Never in her life had V come so hard before. She couldn't control her squirming body, nor her cussing mouth, when waves of pure ecstasy shot through her one after another. She felt her walls clench rhythmically around Johnny’s fingers, still pumping in her to prolong her orgasm, and she cried out his name, begging him to not stop. It was mind-blowing, absolutely breathtaking, and when his lips kissed her exposed neck again, she felt another kind of warmth pool in her chest.

Johnny could feel it all too. Delayed and not as intense as her climax, but strong enough to make him feel spent and satisfied. He flopped back on his seat and reached for his never ending pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a long puff, as he always did after a good fuck.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” V was slowly coming down from her orgasm high. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s all? Where’s some ‘Thanks Johnny’, ‘You were right Johnny’?”

“Thank you Johnny.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard.” He patted her thigh. “And speaking of hard, that guy in the car on our left was watching you the whole time. And he’s still looking.”

“You gotta be kidding me.” She covered her face with her hand, realizing with embarrassment that she probably gave people around her quite a show. It must have looked exceptional from their perspective. Or maybe not, maybe she looked as if she was just enjoying a BD of a particular sort. Still, she felt pretty awkward.

“Let’s get out of the car and kick his ass, wipe this stupid smile off his stupid face.”

“No.” She didn’t even want to look in that guy’s direction right now.

“Pussy. At least show him a middle finger or something.” Johnny immediately flipped him off with both hands. “Come on, V. Fucker deserves it.”

She sighed and reluctantly, still not looking at her accidental spectator, she did as Johnny asked.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #SilverV #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #fanfiction #duck pecks her keyboard

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lilacdorkie · 3 years

Text

unnoticed | newt x reader

title:unnoticed

pairing: newt x reader

words:

type: fluff/kinda angst

warnings: mentions of blood, suicide, guns

prompt: everyone around you notice your affection and feelings towards newt, exept said boy.

songs recommendetions: miss americana & heartbreak prince by taylor swift, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys, if i could fly by one direction, fine line by harry styles, i love you by billie eillish, mirrors by justin timberlake, sweater weather by james harris

a/n my first newt imagine, i tried my hardest! sleep well, have a good day and drink water!

***

NEWT didn’t notice. He never noticed the glances you’d give him, longing stares or how sparkles formed in your eyes, whenever you saw him. But Frypan did. He always watched your person in front of blonde boy, thinking how he could be so blind, when it was so obvious.

“He’s such a slinthead” said Fry one day at the bonfire. You furrowed your eyebrows looking at your friend. “ I mean, you give him those eyes and he still reminds blind”. You didn’t say anything. Just glanced at Newt, again.

HE didn’t notice. He never saw how you managed to fix your hair or shirt, when someone said he’s coming towards your way. But Winston did. And never lost a chance to laugh at you or tease, because he knew what was going on.

“You literally look the same everyday. He’s seen you like this million times. It’s like your hands have magic inside of them, that will make you look like a princess, suddenly.” said Winston as Newt went back to work.

“Slim it, Win” you said embarrased knowing, that it was riddiculous. But you couldn’t help it. Newt had that effect on you.

CHUCK got used to your talk, eventually. After two years, he got used to be greeted in the morning with little morning and question if he saw Newt. When it was dinner, he got used to your drooling over second-in-command. Or when you were pranking Gladers, he knew you will immadietly say to not doing anything to Newt. And, of course, he knew at the bed time, you would say how much you liked him.

“I’m telling you (Y/N), one day you will get married and have seven children” said chubby boy resting next to you.” Why so much? Having to take care of sixty boys it’s enough” you said and both of you laughed. He really did wish you a good life with blonde boy.

BOY found himself watching you, closely. He saw your panicked eyes, your shaking hands. Your faster breathe and how you were practically running from one place to another. Alby didn’t want you to see Newt, like that. He also knew the said boy didn’t want either.

“You’ll be okay Newt, everything will be alright. We will fix you. I will fix you. I promise, just don’t leave me, please. I can’t...I can’t loose you. Not you.” you keep saying as you and Minho tried to bear boy’s wounds. His leg was broken in three places and blood streamed down his face.

“It was an accident. Please, don’t worry” Alby said after you treated Newt. You shaked your head, tears kept coming down from your eyes.

“I perfectly know, Alby. I know, what would get him to be injured like that. It’s not nothing. We have to take care of him. Be there for him. I swear on my life, he will survive and he will live happy life” you said with determination. Alby knew since then, that you would give up your own life for blonde boy. You almost did.

BROWN-HAIRED BOY thought it must feel amazing. To love someone this much. To feel pure happiness and love to one person. Thomas was fascinated by your feelings. He always caught himself thinking, how is it, that his best friend doesn’t feel this energy coming from you.

“How does it feel like?” he asked one night, when it was your guys turn to watch the surrodings at the Scorch. You looked at him confused. “To feel so strong emotions and yet, never saying anything” he added. You were silent for a moment. You didn’t know either.”There wasn’t really time to acknowledge it. That’s all.”

YOU were terrified. First you were running from Grievers, then WICKED and now, the Cranks. You asked yourself, when will it stop? But whatever happened, you always were able to hold Newt’s hand. Or his arm. Or part of his shirt. Even when there was some peace, you still had the urge to touch him, somehow. You needed to feel him. To know, he is right beside you. He is safe.

MINHO noticed it. Every time. At first, he thought it’s odd. But then, he realized how you felt. Wondered, what was on his best friend mind.

“ It’s kinda cute, you know” he said, while you all were sitting at the Cliff watching Aris and the girls. ”You hold hands so often, I’d think you are dating”. Newt laughed it off and let go of your hand, just to elbow you with a smirk.

“We got these shunks to think we’re a think, (Y/N). The best irony in my life” blonde boy said shaking his head. You didn’t say anything, just smiled at all of them. They looked at you sympatrically. What could you say?

THE GIRL was smirking, whenever she looked at you two. You were blindly in love with the boy, standing next to you. There wasn’t a moment where you weren’t next to him. Either it was your group discussing rescue plan for Minho or working or eating, your place was next to him.

“Sometimes, I think it’s creepy.” said your best friend sitting along with you at the sand. “What is?” you asked with a smile. She smirked.”How you always are by Newt’s side. It’s probably nothing weird to both of you, but from ours perspective, it really looks amusing, even” she answered, looking straight at you. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you laughed.

“Yeah well, I can’t help it. It’s something that feels right, you know? Like, it should be like that.” you said. Your gaze went to find blonde boy talking with Thomas. Brenda followed you, couldn’t help but smile. She really, really prayed you would confess your feelings finally. From what you and others have been saying, among Minho, Thomas and Fry, you’ve been in love with Newt what it seems, for three years. It pained her to know, how deep you had to hide it. She also felt furious. Not at you, of course. At the boy, who was painfully obvious to your feelings. He didn’t notice small details, that showed how much you loved him.

“I CAN’T SHUCKING BELIEVE IT” said Gally when you walked side by side through the tunnel. He wouldn’t admit it, but felt disappointed and kind of surprised. He knew you and Newt for so long, saw your eyes, your smile, your body language. The way you acted around blonde boy. You had to be goddamn stupid, to not know that you were in love. And yet, you didn’t say a single word. And Newt didn’t see any of that.

“You really want to tell me, that you and him are still friends?” boy looked at you with disbelief. You turned behind to see, if Thomas and Newt don’t hear you.

“I guess. I mean, we always were friends.” you said quietly. Gally rolled his eyes.

“ It doesn’t mean you have to remain like this forever.” he commented with cheesy smile. You laughed and shook your head. “I’m not sure if this is a moment and place to confessions.” you said after a while.

“You’ve been saying it for a years now. It’s been cute at the beginning, seriously. But now, it hurts doesn’t it? What I am saying is, you shouldn’t waste any time. You might not have it a lot.” said Gally with symphaty and worry in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you asked not knowing how to proces his words. He didn’t say anything. Part of you didn’t need him to.

SHE looked sadly at her old friend. They didn’t have to tell her. She knew. Newt was infected. She glanced at you. You were looking at him with teary, worried eyes, clinging onto his arm, like always.When she was in WICKED, she couldn’t help but wonder, if she didn’t betray Thomas like that, would two of them be like you and Newt?

“He’s the love of your life, isn’t he?” she asked, getting your chip out of your neck. You didn’t say anyting. There was nothing to say.

“The serum you have….It won’t save him. You know that” you remained silent. Tears came to your eyes but you didn’t say anything. Thomas noticed the change in your facial expression. “I think that’s enough.” he said getting you away from her. He knew exactly what was that about. Of course he noticed. But him? He was to busy with his thoughts. Thoughts that were killing him, slowly.

“PLEASE (Y/N) JUST LISTEN TO ME” raven-haired girl practically yelled at you. “You know he doesn’t have much time. But I can help him. We can save him. I just need to test Thomas’ blood.” said Teresa pleading with her eyes towards you. Normally, you would laughed at her face. But this time, it was different. It was about Newt. You looked at him, almost crying. He was already looking at you, shaking his head. Without breaking stare, you asked a question:

“Will you save him?” your voice was shaking, you saw how Newt looked at you not confused. You felt Thomas sharp voice; “You can’t be serious, (Y/N)”. You still were looking at Newt. You hoped your eyes would tell him something, your lips weren’t able to.

“I know together, we will”

***

AND that’s how you were running again. But this time, with needle in your hand and Teresa by your side. Corridors were almost empty, just doctors evacuating. Every guard was now just were The Ivy Trio was. That’s why you found them without any trouble. They noticed you straight away but obviously, guards did too. You reached the boys and started running together, as bullets were flying to your side. You were so determineted, so thankful for Teresa’s resarch that you didn’t feel bullet which was now lower your ribs.

“Newt I got it, I got the cure.” you half-shouted when you all were in the room. They all looked at you like you were crazy.”Me and Teresa got it, you just have…” then you felt pain all over your body. Your legs were wobbly, head dizzy and you dropped to the floor.

“Bloody hell, (Y/N)! You’re bleeding!” said Newt kneeling next to you. You looked at him confuesd. “So what? Newt, didn’t you hear what I said? We have te cure. You’ll be okay”

“You literally was shot and even then, you still worry abiut this shuckface.” said Minho with disbelief. You just looked at blonde boy with the biggest smile despite the pain, killing you inside.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” said Newt taking the needle from your hand and putting it to the pocket. You didn’t look happy like few seconds before.

“What the hell? You have to take it, now.” you said completely ignoring Thomas and Minho who were now, breaking the big glass in front of them.

“(Y/N), are you insane? Your life is on an edge and you are asking me, to take the needle? Shouldn’t you worry about yourself first?” he said trying to stop the bleeding. Teresa slowly put you on your legs, as you had to jump.

“When you love someone more than yourself, you care more about him than you.” you mumbled. He just looked at you. Still, you thought, he didn’t notice..”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Minho looking at Thomas worried.

“Not really.” said boy. Newt frowned.”Great. We’re all bloody inspired”

As he said that, door opened. The four of you looked behind, you too tired to well, actually care. Then you felt youself falling down and then, into the unconsciousness.

AS YOU OPENED YOUR EYES, you were convinced that you died and are in some kind of after life. You stand and went outside. The first thing you noticed, was ocean. You smiled and walked towards it. Your mind was so mesmerized, that you didn’t notice Newt’s big smile when he saw you are awake. This time you didn’t notice. As he walked as fast as he could, to be by your side. How he ignored Minho’s snarky comment “about time, shank”. How he shoved everyone from his path, just to get to you. How his eyes were ony on you. How he sat by your side, not saying anything. How the minute he looked at you, he remembered your words about love. How he mentally punched himself in the face for not noticing your signs. Finally realizing why Gally was so pissed at him. Why Thomas smiled at him like that. Why Minho gave him speech about being slinthead. Why Frypan laughed at him. Why Brenda was smirking when she saw him heading to you.

“I know it now, love. I noticed.” he said looking at you. You were already looking at him. With those eyes. This smile. You reached his hand and interwined your fingers together.

“Thank you for saving me. For all these years.” Newt said kissing your knuckles. You chuckled.”Of course, Newt. You know I will always do that.”

He was by your side. All was well.

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madnessinwrighting · 3 years

Text

When They Know (You're the One)

(Summary: There's a moment, one distinct moment, when you know you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone. This is the Avengers (plus Loki and Bucky) having those moments.

Reader Insert, inspired by an imagine I have long since lost the link too. Open to writing a part two for the other characters.

Notes: Hey all! This is something I've pretty much sat on for a year, but the convincing of two best friends has pushed me to post it. Basically, it's just a quick bite of little moments with each Avenger, with a reader insert. Yes, it was slightly self indulgent. Hope y'all enjoy.

Read on AO3

Steve

It was how you welcomed him home.

He comes back to your shared floor in the tower after a day of meetings. He was tired, and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower and wait for you to come back from your training with Wanda. He paused when he heard music softly playing. Glenn Miller’s "Moonlight Serenade" drifted around the corner, pulling Steve into the living room. His guard dropped when he saw you curled up on the couch in one of his sweatshirts, book in hand. Regina, your cat, and Doger, his dog, were laying at your feet.

Steve was always captivated by your beauty, but in this moment, with your attention completely held by the book in your hand, thinking no one is watching you, is when he found you the most stunning. Before he could clear his throat to let you know he was here, you glance up at him. A breathtaking smile broke out across your face as you got up to welcome Steve home. It was in that moment, he knew that he would never let you go.

Tony

It was in your careless beauty after an event.The two of you were in his room, lounging on his bed, after the monthly Avengers Gala that Stark Industries held. Every month, the Avengers and Stark Industries held a fundraising Gala to help different organizations in need. It had been your idea; being the Avengers PR person, you had proposed the idea after seeing the growing interest the public had in seeing the “real life superheroes” more, but still being unsure of the Avengers after New York and Sokovia. The galas let the general public mingle with the elite, all while the Avengers mingled with both. (You had started to notice how much the heroes spent less and less time with the elite and more with the general public (especially Steve and Bucky)).

You were wearing one of Tony’s button ups and a pair of pajama shorts. A champagne bottle rested against your leg as you grabbed for another slice of pizza. Tony laughed at you; you were always hungry after the galas. He reached for a slice too. He glanced up at you as you took a bite, just staring for a moment. Your hair was in an imperfect bun, wet strands falling around your face from where you missed a few pieces after your shower. There was a smudge of black under each eye from leftover makeup. As you wiped some sauce from the side of your mouth, Tony could see where your fingernail polish had started to chip. You noticed his staring. “What, playboy? Do I have something on my face?” He laughed at the nickname. Any other time, he would have sassed back. But the whiskey that had been coursing through his veins finally reached his head. Or maybe it was your beauty. Maybe it was a combination of the two that made him say, “No. I just realized I’m going to marry you someday.” You rolled your eyes at him, laughing. You thought he was joking. But Tony knew the truth, and that’s all that mattered; for now.

Clint

It was how you interacted with his kids, and how you could read him.

He had just come back from a mission. He and Nat had gotten banged around, nothing serious, but he knew his ribs were going to be hurting for a few days. He heard laughter the moment he stepped off the elevator to your shared floor. His smile grew when he saw you and his kids in the process of building a blanket fort, you standing carefully on a leaning chair to get the blanket on a high hook. Lila hid her face behind her hands as you made a show of “almost” falling, before doing a flip and landing perfectly. Little Nathaniel clapped his hands as the three cheered. The four of you took a step back to admire your work. The three kids all come in close to you, Nate hugging your leg. Your hand came down to play with his hair. You all talk quietly about what to add. Clint’s heart clinches at the sight. While his and Laura’s split was mutual, and they still cared for one another, it had been hard, for both them and the kids. To see you interact well with the three people that made up a big portion of his world, and them to do the same with you… Clint really couldn’t ask for more.

He caught the repetitive tapping of your fingers on your leg. “Take your time. Love you.”

Natasha

You learned Russian for her.

Any time she came into the room when it was just you and Bucky, the two of you would stop talking and a red hue would cover your cheeks. It didn’t take a spy to know you were hiding something. At first, Nat had a fleeting thought that you might be cheating on her, but she knew you, and knew Buck, and knew that that wasn’t the case. So she let the secret go for the time being; well, that’s a lie. She actually decided to turn it into a game and see if she could find out what it was that you were keeping from her. But sneaking up on the Winter Soldier proved to be difficult, considering most of her skills she had learned were from him.

She thought she had figured out a way to catch you. She was thinking through her plan while making her coffee that morning when your arms snaked around her waist. She smiled as you rested your head on her shoulder, placing a kiss on the bare skin. “Доброе утро Любовь. Спать хорошо?” you asked.

“конечно, ты был следующим -” Natasha froze as she processed what just happened. She spun in your arms to face you. “That’s what you and Barnes have been doing?”

“Yes. Were you going to say because I was next to you?”

“Yes. Why are you learning Russian?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because of you, silly. Your Russian, are you not? And while most of your Russian adventures are in your past and not really you anymore, they and Russia are still a part of you. I love every part of you and want to know every part of you, so I asked Bucky it he would be willing to--”

Natasha cut off the rest of your explanation by placing a kiss on your lips. If there were tears on her checks, neither of you mentioned it.

(Translation: Доброе утро Любовь. Спать хорошо? - Good morning, love. Sleep well?конечно, ты был следующим. - Of course, you were next -- Done with Google. I'm sorry if they are incorrect. Please let me know if they are so I can fix it.)

Thor

You didn’t treat his brother like a villain.

None of the team was thrilled when Thor announced that Loki would be coming to live with him on Earth. But considering the alternative was for Loki to be executed, Thor convinced them to allow Loki to stay in the tower. But of course there were rules. Loki and Thor accepted these; Loki just wanted to leave the place that never felt like a home to him, and felt even less so now, no matter what his mother did to try and help. Thor was excited to see you once again, to be able to be with you once again, but he worried about how you would react to Loki. You had been badly injured when the Chatiri attacked. Thor loved both you and his brother; he wanted, no, needed you two to get along.

When the time came for Loki to move in, all the Avengers were waiting in the teleportation room. The alarm alerted you to the brothers incoming arrival. You all shielded your eyes as the Bifrost opened. The blinding light cleared, leaving the polar opposite sons of Odin in its place. Everyone stayed still for a moment. You rolled your eyes at all of them before throwing yourself at Thor. He caught you with a laugh, spinning you around.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should have chosen execution.”

You sensed the movement of the team tensing and gripping their weapons. Placing a kiss on Thor’s cheek, you walked over to Loki. You knew he recognized you from when he fought against you during the Chatiri invasion; you also knew it wasn’t his fault. Hardly any of the New York Attack was Loki’s fault, directly. Knowing that, you placed your hands over both of the bracelets on his wrist, said a small incantation, and melted them away. You felt and saw Loki’s magic return to him. His eyes were swirling with questions. All you said to him was, “No one, not a single being, deserve to be cut off from something that makes them whole.”

Thor had tears in his eyes. He had been trying to convince others that his brother wasn’t the enemy, and here was the woman that he loved, showing that she believed that too.

Bruce

You loved him despite his inner demon.

Bruce Banner had felt ever since his… accident, that he was very much two different people. You once joked he was a modern day Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Tony thought it was hysterical, Bruce not so much). Despite his green friend always being just under Bruce’s skin, you never once feared him. The Hulk and Bruce were one person, and that was something you accepted very early on; Bruce knew he loved you then.

But the moment he knew he would spend forever with you was when you didn’t shy away from his true inner demon. Not the green one, but the one that was very human. The self doubt that he was nothing and only ever became something because of a gamma radiation explosion. The anxiety that he would one day lose control and destroy everything that he held dear. The depression that came from every so-called mistake he thought he had made in his scientific career. The depression that manifests in self isolation so no other mistake could be made, or at least no one was there to be hurt when they were made. He was certain that these monsters would be the ones to push you away from him; they would be the ones that would make you run away screaming.

You never once left his side, though. You calmed the anxiety attacks; you silenced the dark thoughts in his mind. You were his voice in every moment that he needed you. You were his protector, and he would do everything in his power to keep you.

Loki

You saw through the illusion.

Loki moved into the tower not long after everything that happened with the Battle of Sokovia, which was when you joined the team. He was brought to Earth to atone for his sins; Odin thought it poetic to banish his son to the place where he caused destruction.

Besides Bucky (shared trauma in brainwashing and all), you were the first one to accept Loki as he was. A connection flowed easily between you, bonding over books and similar battle styles; you both favored knives and daggers. One night, you two were in the living room of the comunal floor. Loki and you had only been dating for a few months, but your friendship led to a strong bond already. You were reading; Loki had been too, though he was now asleep, head resting in your lap. Your hand stilled in his hair as he started to fidget. Twitching and moaning, you recognized the signs of his nightmares immediately. Your gentle coasting to awake still startled him. A moment on the couch, the next on the floor staring into red eyes surrounded by a blue tinged face. As quickly as it was there, Loki was his blue-eyed, pale skinned self, helping you from the ground.

“Apologies, my love. I do not know what came over me.” He ran his hands through his hair.

You rolled your eyes. “Bullshit. Are you okay?” You reached out for him.

He smiled softly before turning away from you. “Yes, yes, I’m fine, love.”

“Loki, you are not--”

“I said I’m fine, Y/N,” he interrupted. He started to walk away.

“Wha- No, wait.” He didn’t stop. “Loki of Asgard, you stop right now and look at me, damnit!” He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Loki. Please. You can pretend with the team, with your brother even. But don’t lie to me. You’re not fine, not have you been for a long time. Look at me.” While you spoke, you walked closed to him. You reached out to place a hand on the back of his shoulder.

He caught your wrist, half turning to look at you. “You see through the illusions.”

It wasn’t a question. You still answered. “Yes, I do.” You used your captured hand to turn his face to you. “You may be the God of Mischief, but your lies have never worked on me.” You whipped a tear from his cheek.

He’d never admit it to you, but his heart clenched and he was at a momentary loss for words. All he could think to say, as he pulled you into his arms, was, “I know not how I got so fortunate to have you in my life, but I thank whoever it was that allowed it.” You just hugged him tighter.

Bucky

It was how you celebrated his 37th birthday.

Bucky had a doopy smile on his face as he read one of the texts from you; he and Steve were disembarking from one of Stark’s planes. Bucky brought his head up at the sound of laughter. “What, punk?” Bucky shoved Steve’s shoulder.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Nothing. Tell y/n hi from me, jerk.”

Bucky shot back that he would as he headed straight to the garage.

When he did get home, a wonderful aruma tickled his nose while Janet Blair’s “You’d be so Nice to Come Home To” floated to his ears. Dropping his bag by the door, he rounded the island. All of his weariness from the mission vanished once he saw you. Your hair was pinned up and you wore a y/f/c swing dress. He caught the reflection of your makeup; simple, with eyeliner your top lids, just a kiss of it on the lower, massacre gracing your lashes, and a red perfetingly complementing your skin coating your lips. When you faced Bucky, he had to grip the island slightly for support. You looked just like the dames he knew growing up. But unlike all of them, you were his, and you took his breath away.

“Buck! I didn’t hear you come in,” you exclaimed.

He reached out to you; you willingly stepped into his arms. Bucky placed a kiss on your lips, humming as he pulled away. “You look stunning, doll. What’s the occasion?” He started swaying you to the music.

You laughed. “You are, you dork. Or did you forget you turned a whole century while you are on this mission?”

“Ouch, doll. You really know how to make a man feel loved. I’m only 37,” he tried reasoning as he dipped you.

“Is that so? Then why does your birth certificate say you were born in 1917?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “Fine, happy 37th birthday, even though you were born 100 years ago. Do you want some cake? I made this one special.” You began biting the side of your lip.

“Sure, babe. I’d love some.” Bucky gave you once last peck before letting you go.

You went to the cake, cutting two slices. Bucky saw you fidget slightly as you set them pieces down on the island. Not sure as to why you’d be so nervous (you’d made him chocolate cake before, it was his favorite), he picked up his fork and took a big bite. The explosion of flavor in his mouth caused him to pause for a moment before he kept chewing. Unsure if his senses were playing tricks on him, he took another small bite. Nope, that tasted exactly like-- “Is this my mother’s recipe?” Disbelief clouded his voice. You nodded your head. “And her icing?” You nodded again.

“It wasn’t easy to replicate, or even find the recipe, but this birthday is a big deal so I thought--” you were cut off by Bucky pulling you to him and crashing his lips to yours. You could taste the chocolate on his lips.

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yugirl · 3 years

Text

Day 11: "Bonding - H2O"

Break out your calculators today and celebrate math and science with our favourite nerd, Daichi/Bastion Misawa!

((whoops wrote a whole episode… tw for hair pulling and verbal abuse))

@gxmonth

Bastion was trying so desperately to lose himself in his piano playing, trying to calm himself, trying to escape the real world.

He was still shaking. His teacher, Ms Mutou, had duelled Tania to defend him and Jaden, and as a result, she got violently sick. The fact she was pregnant did not help…

While she was being treated, he panicked and left the infirmary and escaped to the music room. He was hoping his piano playing would provide some form of comfort when his anxiety was giving him hell.

Great job, Bastion! You did it again!

Ms Mutou and her baby are going to die, and it's your fault

Murderer!

It's your fault. It's your fault. IT'S YOUR FAULT!!

Bastion slammed his fingers on the piano keys, the discord of the sounds upsetting him more. He just slumped and sobbed.

"Bastion?"

The Ra Yellow student flinched and looked to the doorway, seeing Chazz standing there awkwardly.

"what the heck was that about…? I know you probably feel guilty because Tania manipulated you, but… did you really need to run off like that?"

"Go away, Chazz!" Bastion sobbed, "You wouldn't understand!"

"Hey…" Chazz said quietly. "what's going on…."

"I… it… it's about mother…."

"What… what does have to do with Ms Mutou?" Chazz asked, not getting it at all.

"M… my mother died when she had me… I was born via emergency c-section after… My father hates me for it… he says it's my fault."

"wait… is THAT why he stole the piano and sold it to the academy!?" Chazz sputtered. He remembered Bastion mentioning it in the past.

Bastion's father had sold his wife, Bastion's late mother's, piano when Bastion was in middle school. He didn't believe Bastion deserved to look at it, let alone play it. But as Bastion said, the joke was on him as now it was at the Academy, and Bastion could now play it every day.

"and now Ms Mutou is going to die because of me too!" He sobbed

"Hey! hey! Hey!" Chazz snapped and grabbed Bastion by the shoulders. "Shut. Up. This is not your fault!"

"B-But i-if I didn't lose to Tania-"

"Ms Mutou is going to be fine! You know how pushy and stubborn she is!" Chazz assured. "It's not your fault… What happened to your mom wasn't your fault either…."

Bastion sniffled. He wasn't convinced but nodded.

"Ah… so here it is…."

Bastion froze, paralysed with fear. Chazz had never seen him this terrified before.

He slowly turned around to see a tall man in a black suit, buttoned tight. Well kept brown hair and a pair of YSL glasses sitting meticulously on his nose.

"Father…"

THAT was Bastion's dad!? Chazz was shaken. The man radiated an ice coldness and had a piercing stare.

Bastion stood up. "Father, why are you here."

"I came to collect Rosalie's Piano."

"B-but it's the Academy's now! besides, you have no right to it since YOU sold it in the first place!" Chazz piped up

"Don't talk about things you don't understand, boy… "Bastion's father said coldly. "This murderer doesn't have the right to be near it!"

"No, Chazz is right!"

The older man was taken aback. "You dare talk back to me, boy?!" "Yes, actually I do!" Bastion retorted, "You can't just repurchase it just because you don't want me to have it!! it's inconsiderate to the other students of the school!"

"Oh, I made sure to pay the school handsomely for it!" His father assured.

"I… I WON'T LET YOU HAVE IT!!" Bastion shouted only to have his hair grabbed by his father, which he proceeded to shake from side to side violently

"Don't you dare raise my voice at me, you inconsiderate ingrate!!"

"Let go of him, you asshole!!" Chazz snapped, trying to pry Mr Misawa's fingers off.

Chancellor Shepherd entered the room and was understandably shocked at the display.

"Mr Misawa! What is the meaning of this!?" he gasped.

Chazz finally managed to pry Bastion free, and both pulled away, huffing with relief it was over. Bastion hurriedly fixed his hair and gave Chazz a quick "thanks…."

Chazz nodded back in response before glaring at the man before them. "Like we said, you can't have it!"

"You're not getting mother's Piano…." Bastion said firmly. "I won't let you!!"

Chancellor Shepherd seemed concerned. After Mr Misawa's actions, he wasn't exactly keen to do business with him. But on the other hand, the funding would be helpful in the long run…. But clearly, this piano meant a lot to these two students, and they were helping him protect the world from the shadow riders.

There was only one way to settle it.

"Both of you clearly want the piano as it has significant sentimental value to both of you… so I suggest we follow Duel Academy's protocol and duel for it…."

"Fine by me! I'll face you, and I'll make sure mother's piano stays with me!"

Daiki Misawa stared down at his son, uttering nothing more than a "very well."

Jade, Syrus, Alexis and the others heard the news that Bastion was duelling. However, they were not aware of who he was duelling and why.

Bastion picked out his element dragon deck and turned to look at his father. "Let's duel."

"Indeed"

Jaden noticed Chazz standing stiffly, watching the duel intensely.

"Hey, Chazz! What's going on? who's duelling Bastion?"

"That creep over there? That's Bastion's old man," Chazz said coldly.

"His dad? but why?" Syrus asked, confused.

"He's trying to buy the piano in the music room. Bastion's the only thing standing in his way of getting it."

Chumley didn't follow "Why would Bastion and his dad duel for a piano?"

Alexis' brows furrowed. She knew why. "The piano belonged to Bastion's late mother… it means everything to him."

She understood perfectly, her mother's scarf holding the same significance.

Jaden started to get angry. How could Bastion's father do this?! that was just cruel…

"KICK HIS ASS BASTION!!"

The others immediately hushed him, but Bastion instead looked at Jaden and nodded, determined.

The duel began similarly to Bastion's duel against Chazz earlier in the year when Chazz was an arrogant Obelisk Blue student. Fortunately for Bastion, his father made the same moves, and in turn, mistakes as Chazz did back then.

Chazz smirked. If Bastion played his cards right, he would have this in the bag.

Bastion, however, chose to summon his Water Dragon a few moves earlier, commanding an attack against his father's Chithonian Soldier. However, his father played the trap card draining shield, boosting his life points to 3800.

Bastion muttered but set two cards faced down and ended his turn.

that's when Daiki smirked. "I've been waiting for you to play that stupid dragon! I play Eria the Water Charmer in attack mode!"

"Oh no!" Bastion gasped. He wasn't prepared for that.

"What's going on!?" Syrus squeaked.

"As long as Eria is face-up on the field, Bastion is in big trouble… because now Water Dragon is under his control!!" Alexis explained

"oh no!!"

"Now, Water Dragon! attack!!"

"Not so fast!! I activate the quick play spell super rush headlong to eliminate water dragon!"

"What?!"

Water Dragon was destroyed, and Bastion was spared… but two more monsters remained, and he only had 1000 life points.

"Now I attack with Chithonian solder!"

"I activate my trap card! Magic Cylinder!"

"you…"

Daiki's life points went down to 1800.

"Well, you're out of spell and trap cards now… I attack with Eria!!"

Bastion cried out. He was down to 500 life points with no monsters and no spell cards on the field…

"Don't give up, Bastion!!" Jaden pleaded

"Slacker's right! it ain't over till the last card is played!!" Chazz jumped in.

Bastion knew they were right, but… what hope did he have? his ace monster was destroyed… there was no hope in his deck now, was there?

"I'm sorry, Mother… I wasn't good enough…."

He suddenly heard the sound of someone munching.

"You're not seriously crying over a spilt dragon puddle, are you?"

Bastion blinked and turned to see a small girl munching on a bag of prawn chips. Wait, this wasn't any small girl…

"White Magician Pikeru?"

"You know Water Dragon isn't the only ace monster in your deck, right, loser?" Pikeru scoffed, not at all as cute as her character design. No, this one looked more like a bratty kid. "Or did Mr Prepared for everything forget how prepared he really was!"

"What?… no, your right… there's one more card…."

"Well, go on then, moron!! draw it so we can get this monster out of your life forever!!"

"Right… Chazz and Jaden are right… it's not over until the last card is played!!" Bastion concentrated and drew his last card, just what he needed.

"I activate the magic card, Raging Plasma!!"

"Raging Plasma?!"

"I've never seen Bastion play that card before!" Alexis gasped.

"By sacrificing my last two Oxygeddons and my Caboneddon, I can summon my second Ace Monster!"

"You have a second ace monster?!"

"That's right, Water Dragon has a sister, don't you know? and she's far less merciful than her brother."

A spark of flame appeared before it raged with great intensity.

"Say hello to Fire Dragon!!"

"Whoah… that heat is intense…." Chumley mumbled.

"Fire Dragon… cool!!" Jaden gasped in awe.

"Fire Dragon! Attack Eria!!"

Daiki fell back, and his life points went down to 0.

Bastion sighed, relieved. It was over. He won.

Jaden and Chazz let out a whoop of delight, ecstatic their friend would be able to keep his mother's piano.

Daiki cursed and got up. "You may keep it now, murderer, but it won't be yours forever… you won't be able to protect it once you graduate."

"That's where you're wrong!"

Chazz stood up, holding a chequebook. "I'll be purchasing the piano. Is this a sufficient amount, Chancellor?"

Chancellor Shepherd looked at the cheque carefully. It wasn't much higher than Mr Misawa's offer. Still, at this point, the chancellor wanted him off the island. "hmmm, yes, Chazz, I'd say it is!"

"Well, there you have it! the piano stays here and when Bastion graduates, it's going with him, so suck it!"

Daiki growled but left after that.

Bastion ran up to Chazz and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Chazz… thank you…."

Chazz blushed, but instead of repelling, he hugged back. "Don't mention it… I know you'd do the same for me…."

"Bastion, that was awesome!!" Jaden shouted, joining in the group hug. "that was your best duel!"

"What are you talking about? He would've lost if I didn't tell him about Fire Dragon!"

"Huh?"

Chazz held back a groan. "Oh no! You got a duel spirit too?"

"You can see her?" Bastion asked, bewildered.

"Sure can!" Jaden chuckled. "Welcome to the club, Bastion!"

"I'm happy the be included!" Bastion smiled.

"Welcome to the family, Pikeru!" Ojama Yellow squawked.

"Yeah, whatever, weirdo!"

"Oh no, she speaks Chazz!" Jaden laughed.

Bastion smiled. He felt glad he had such a wonderful group of friends and was relieved his mother's piano would stay with him.

Unbeknownst to the trio, As Bastion played Clair de Lune to celebrate his victory, a fifth spirit watched over them.

She wasn't a duel spirit like Winged Kuriboh, Pikeru or the Ojamas, but a spirit nonetheless. As the trio enjoyed the music, she smiled.

"Bastion… I'm so proud of you… My precious son…."

#gxmonth #gxmonth2021 #bastion misawa #chazz princeton #daichi misawa #jun manjoume #tw hair pulling #tw verbal assault #tw verbal abuse

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secret-engima · 4 years

Text

story-spinner

Having a bad day. You happen to have any HCs or snippets for Kings Skjald verse? You may not but your writing always seems to cheer me up so

Me: So sorry I missed this! I didn’t log in yesterday like- at ALL and I only just got the notification. I unfortunately do not have any snippets to share, but HCs I can do. :)

-In the aftermath of Souls of the Sea (Still Belong to Blue Tides) and everything that happened in there, a couple things happen. One of the big ones being that Ravus joins the Kingsglaive. It takes him a year of stubbornly arguing with his mother over it, because she does NOT want Ravus to go haring off to war, but in the end Ravus wins and joins up at 17.

-The glaives at first are not too sold on this idea. Because... prince. Tenebraen prince with a resting murder face. He’s probably a wimp. Or just a jerk. Will he even obey orders and work with us non-royal Galahdian/Lucian nobodies?

-Then they actually throw Ravus into boot camp and learn that this boy may have enough formal manners to perfectly blend in with Lucian high society but once you take him out of that environment and stick a sword in his hand he becomes a bundle of Feral Anger And Bloodlust with a side of Really Scary Cunning. Also he spent part of those months on the run being grilled by Gladiolus in how to fight (on top of the royal sword training he’d already been receiving pre-Tenebrae’s Fall obviously) and spent putting food on the camp grill for his mother and sister by Killing It Really Hard First.

-Basically he fits riigghhtt in with the rest of the feral, chip-on-their-shoulder-rookies.

-Also, Ravus may not be a Reborn Viking of Pure Awesome like Gladiolus, so he can’t stand toe to toe with Cor the Immortal or anything but like- in canon this boy was able to claw his way up the ranks of a foreign military that WOULDN’T HAVE WANTED HIM THERE (see: Uldor’s comments during the Ignis DLC, and that cutscene with Besithia making snide comments at Ravus in the main game) and eventually become SiC and then Supreme Commander. Kid has talent and the stubborn to back it up.

-Nyx is not a fan of being Braincelled by this younger, more aggressive Tenenbraen, especially when half the time Ravus is only in yelling range because he’s DOING THE DUMB RIGHT ALONGSIDE NYX.

-Luche and Libertus are both a Stress.

-Tredd finds it fun to wind the kid up even though it repeatedly gets him a broken nose.

-Anyway as a side effect of Ravus joining the Kingsglaive, Luna and Gladiolus both take an interest in the Kingsglaive as a whole, and of course, whatever THEY take an interest in, Noctis will take an interest in too.

-Cue Smol Prince following along whenever Luna comes to check on her brother (and secretly use her magic to heal them even though Mother Strictly Forbids Using Her Magic Outside Emergencies Until She’s Fully Trained) and Gladiolus making friends with people physically a lot older than him but not mentally. And maybe mopping the floor with anyone who dares challenge him to a spar (this is the year Gladiolus is finally good enough to win against Cor in a spar according to a previous HC of mine, sorry but the Glaives have no chance, they give it a good go though).

-Gladiolus may or may not accidentally teach the Kingsglaive how to swear in Old Norse.

-I really really want the other Astrals (minus Bahamut) to start noticing and taking an interest in Leviathan’s new “kid”, because no one has given blessings since Solheim’s fall and of all of them, LEVIATHAN was not the one they expected to buck the mold in that way (in other ways sure, but Blessing a human???? THEIR angry rage snek???). But I’m still working out how all that ... goes.

-Leviathan probably browbeats the others into keeping it a secret from Bahamut tho. Because she is protective of her child and there’s no way she’s letting Bahamut hurt her Chosen again, even by accident.

-Gladiolus, with his newfound abilities to breathe underwater and such, sometimes gets an itch to go swimming. Considering the ocean is miles away most of the time and the pool has chlorine that stings his lungs when he breathes it, he finds the Royal Aquarium with all its ocean fish a much better place to hang out for a few hours.

-Clarus, Juno, Regis, Ignis, Cor, and more than a few freaked out Crownsguard would like to STRONGLY DISAGREE.

-Gladiolus, who lost track of time swimming around with the Really Dangerous Fish that won’t bother him because they can sense Leviathan’s Blessing, is just like- sorry? I’ll warn you next time.

-Everybody: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT TIME.

-Sylva becomes a major voice in Lucian noble circles in favor of the Kingsglaive and efforts to clean up the refugee sector. Because she may not be Lucian, but she is the ORACLE and her voice carries a LOT of weight and she’s lived through what the Galahdians and other refugee groups have suffered through. She knows the smell of your home burning and blood on your clothes as you run from MT units and pray they don’t find you. She knows what it’s like to flee to another country. What it’s like to be HUNGRY and SCARED. What it’s like to cling to the children at night on a Haven, cold and tired but unable to sleep because the daemons wander and scream only a few yards away, and while the mind says they cannot come onto the Haven, the heart and the instincts do not believe. She knows ALL OF THAT.

-She also knows what it’s like to be saved. To be found and sheltered and taken to safety by soldiers who are just like her, and know to give her and her children soup and soft foods, who know to approach from the front rather than the sides and to move slow and open, to always say what they’re doing before they do it. She knows what it’s like to be so grateful for those simple kindnesses that it takes all she can muster not to start crying, because if she starts she will not stop and then her children will start crying too.

-So whenever some Lucian noble makes contemptuous noises over the “necessity” of the Kingsglaive or the refugee sector, or makes a comment on how Insomnia is for LUCIANS and not ragged strays, she will look them in the eye and say something perfectly cool and polite and deadly. Something that sharply reminds the noble that SHE, the HOLY ORACLE, is a refugee just like all the other “ragged strays”. That she and hers were “found” by Kingsglaive and escorted safely home. That her SON is now part of that very same organization.

-But do go on and tell her how the Kingsglaive are a waste of money and refugees should be left to fend for themselves.

-Needless to say, between Sylva backing them politically, Luna healing them on the sly (and also Sylva does come heal the bad cases whenever she has time), and Ravus being his feral budding terrifying strategist self, the Kingsglaive and Little Galahd as a whole rapidly come to adore the Nox Fleuret family. These are their Oracles. No touchy. They will Fite You.

-And of course, Noctis adores Luna and tries to emulate her because she’s Cool, and also his Shield-Brother cares for the Kingsglaive, and Big Brother Ravus IS a Kingsglaive, so Noctis rolls up his little sleeves and tries to help too. He’s too young to have a voice in politics, but he can and will follow his dad around nagging that hey-hey Ravus says their shoes don’t fit and the quartermaster won’t give them potions even though IGNIS says they have the budget for it and hey hey hey- (Regis would like to know how Ignis the Eleven Year Old got his hands on the Kingsglaive budget, but Cor has been making dire noises along these lines already so he sighs and siccs the auditors on the quartermaster).

-Noctis also visits a lot, and tries to give the Glaives games and things because hey those make him feel better so maybe it’ll make the glaives not look so tired too.

-The Entire Kingsglaive as they proverbially (and sometimes literally) pick up Noctis: We’ve only known this princeling for a few months but if anything happened to him we would kill everyone in Niflheim and then ourselves.

-Gladiolus approves this feeling.

I think that’s all the HCs I got for the moment, I hope these made your day a little better. :)

#Secret Engima Rambles #kings skjald verse #kingsglaive #ravus is gonna be Cor's sic by the time he's 20 mark my words #Cor is already plotting to groom him for the mantle of Captain

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willow-salix · 4 years

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Fluffember prompt: Bedtime

@gumnut-logic its ya boi again...

Day 10 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

She regretted picking the extra strong coffee, both for what it did to Alan and the fact that, even though she said she felt fine, she couldn’t seem to make her eyes stay closed.

Alan had indeed drunk the entire jug of chocolate chip frappe masquerading as an innocent milkshake and it wasn’t just colours that were behaving weirdly for him. He seemed to be vibrating with hyperactive energy, bouncing around in a permanent state of alertness that I usually only saw from John or Scott when he’d been chugging those energy drinks to get his late night mission reports finished.

We tried everything to wear him out and settle him down, but it was like having an overly excited puppy with springs for legs trying to get your attention.

“Scott! Scott! SCOTTTT! Look what I can do!” he yelled and proceeded to plant his hands on the floor, flip his legs up into the air and try to run on his hands. He didn’t get far.

Scott’s groan of despair was so deep and heartfelt, I wondered if he might walk out and never return. I hadn’t heard that one since Brandon last came for dinner and told us all about how he'd abseiled for charity wearing a fluffy bear costume, which didn’t sound too bad until you heard that he hadn't been wearing anything underneath it. Apparently the suit was very hot and heavy so he had decided, after trying it on for a few practice descents on an indoor wall, to forgo what he considered unnecessary clothing. That would have been fine if he hadn’t caught the tail on a jagged rock and not noticed. Although, seeing his bare behind on a live stream had doubled the amount of donations that had poured in. Now he was planning to try naked skydiving and was trying to get us to join him. You can guess what the answer was to that.

“Come on, dudes, it’ll be like, totally extreme! Picture it, The Bear and the Boys, think of the publicity, man. You guys are like, thrill junkies, same as me. You’ll love it, the wind in your hair, adoration of millions of fans. It’ll be off the hook!” he’d rambled, getting far too excited for his own good. Scott had had to excuse himself and hide in his office for half an hour while Brandon talked excitedly to Alan about his latest videos. I left them to it too.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, Alan...

“Alan will you stop!” Witchy yelled when he crashed sideways like a felled tree for the fourth time, almost taking out Gordon who was walking past, innocent for once.

“No! I can do this!” Alan protested, trying to right himself but just making it worse. “The world is upside down” he was lying on the floor at this point, “so if I make myself the same then the world will be right side up again! Simple.”

“No, not simple,” Scott groaned, helping pick Gordon up off the floor. “You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” Alan protested. “I’m totally zen.”

I must say, his idea of zen is a lot different to mine.

Scott grabbed Alan’s legs and flipped him over, dragging him to his feet.

“Woah! Are you like a wizard or something? That was totally magical!”

"He's even starting to talk like him," Gordon mused, rubbing his elbow, sore from its collision with the side of my piano.

Witchy groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “It’s gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

She wasn’t wrong.

It turned out that Alan hadn’t just magically appeared in the kitchen when he’d gotten hungry, no, he’d just woken up from a four hour nap and needed a drink. So, not only was he hyped up on enough caffeine to wake the dead (or John after a three day mission stint) but he was also stuffed full of sugar…

***

“Alan, it’s four in the morning, you have to settle down,” she begged, looking so worn out I thought she might keel over. I didn’t blame her, I felt roughly the same. Gordon had gone to bed hours before, as had Grandma, Kayo and Dad. I had stayed up because it was partly my fault that we were in this situation in the first place and Scott was up because he’s Scott and just has to be involved with everything.

“I can’t,” Alan argued. “I’m not tired.”

“We are!” she insisted. “You can’t stay up all night.”

“You sleep if you’re so tired,” he snapped back. He’d been doing that all day, flipping from adorably sweet and compliant to downright murderous in an instant, we were trying not to take it personally. “I’m not tired. I’m gonna call Brandon and chat to him if you guys don’t want me around.”

“No!” Scott jumped in before we could. He knew full well that if Alan spoke to Brandon in this state he’d agree to a million crazy schemes in a matter of seconds. He had to be protected for his own good.

"We do want you around," she argued. "But we also need to lie down before we fall down. So please, if you love me at all, stop trying to sneak off to eat more cookies and vegemite, because one, it's gross, and two…its gross. Where was I going with this?" she asked me, looking so confused I had to turn away so I didn't laugh.

“Do I even want to know what’s going on in here?” John asked, appearing in the doorway having apparently just arrived home. There were rules now, if he had finished his work and she was on the island he had to come home, no matter how late it was. EOS was perfectly capable of handling monitoring duty and most things could be coordinated remotely if it was needed, and if it couldn’t it only took eight minutes for his elevator to take him back. He had no excuse.

“Oh, thank the gods, I’m so tired and my eyes hate me, my eyelids are broken” she groaned, making grabby hands in his general direction which he ignored to stare at Alan.

“Alan drunk coffee,” Scott told him. “Their super strong coffee.”

“What? Why? Who was stupid enough to give him that?”

“No one, he helped himself, thought her frappe was a milkshake,” I told him.

“John! You’re home! This is great! Watch what I can do!”

“No!” Scott, Witchy and I all yelled at once.

“Maybe you should stay where you are,” John suggested, obviously wishing he’d stayed in space even if that did mean he’d get yelled at later.

“I don’t want to sit anymore, I’m bored.”

We all looked at John imploringly, he was the one that Alan would always listen to.

“Hey, Alan, do you wanna watch a movie?” John offered.

"Is that a good idea," Scott started, his expression clearly saying that he thought John was insane to even be thinking of it. We wanted Alan to settle and calm down, not get extra hyped from watching one of his action movies.

Alan stopped bouncing for a second, looking suspicious but also interested. “What movie?”

“Your choice, what was that one you’ve been asking us to watch for months, I can’t remember?” John made his way over to the couch and Witchy shifted over to make room for him, draping her legs over his the moment he sat down.

“The new superhero one?” Alan asked hopefully.

“Sure, we can do that one,” John agreed, sending me a small smirk when Alan dropped back down on the couch, ready to watch. I gave it two minutes before he’d be leaping up again and running off to jump in the pool or something.

For once Scott didn’t dare tell Alan it was too late to start watching anything or that he should be in bed, he was just grateful that Alan had stopped rolling around the floor pretending to be a turtle stuck on its back.

“Oh, yay, I’ve been wanting to see this,” Witchy said, perking up, apparently forgetting all about her rebellious eyes and tiredness, getting what she called her second wind. We all knew that one, when you had been up so long and were so tired that you had actually gone past the point of tiredness, past the point of being able to sleep and were suddenly wide awake again.

John started the movie, lifting his arm to drape it across her shoulders when she snuggled against his side, her arm sliding around his waist. Alan shifted too, dragging his movie blanket over his legs, wedging a cushion against her side so he could lean against it, clearly getting comfortable. Scott and I exchanged a look, maybe there was hope for this plan of John’s after all.

Ten minutes into the movie Alan moved to curl up to her, both of them leaning against John, squashing him into the side of the couch, but at least they were settled.

Another five minutes and she was yawning, her head dropping to rest against John’s shoulder.

“Tired, love?” John asked innocently, smiling softly to himself when she shook her head firmly, but soon, despite her protests, her eyes started that slow blink of a very tired person who is trying desperately to stay awake.

Alan yawned, pulling his blanket up to cover his shoulders and Scott risked a small smile in hope that he would soon be able to get some sleep himself. I didn’t blame him. The ironic part of this day was the fact that we had finished off all the other coffees to ensure we stayed awake longer than Alan.

Her eyes drooped, slowly closing but she snapped awake a moment later.

“I thought you wanted to watch this?” Scott teased her, earning himself a glare.

“I do, I am watching, look, eyes, facing the screen, watching.”

She might have said the words but her actions said otherwise.

“Shall we turn this off and watch it another day?” I asked when Alan’s head dropped forward although he instantly snapped to attention again.

“No, I’m watching it,” he answered stubbornly.

I lifted my hands in surrender and followed John’s lead, staying quiet and watching the movie.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” John murmured to her a little while later when she’d jerked herself awake for the third time.

“No, I’m not tired, I told you, I want to watch this.”

"You just fell-" Scott started but John cut him off with a warning eyebrow raise.

"I did no such thing," she grumbled, sitting up a bit straighter to prove her point. "I was watching."

“Of course you were,” John agreed placidly, not bothering to argue with her but I did notice that his fingers snuck into her hair, playing with a few strands. She sighed softly, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the action on the screen, letting herself relax again.

She lasted another fifteen minutes before she stopped fighting her body's needs and closed her eyes, letting them stay closed.

A soft snore drew our attention and we turned from the projection to see Alan, mouth open, eyes closed, fast asleep. John shifted slightly, pulling witchy onto his lap, letting Alan's pillow slide down taking him with it. His hand snuck out, tugging at Alan’s blanket, pulling it up to cover his head.

We waited a few more minutes, sitting quietly, not wanting to risk breaking the fragile peace by waking them up, allowing them to settle deeper into sleep.

“OK, I think we’re good,” John whispered conspiritally.

“How did you know to do that?” Scott asked, shocked to the core that his standard approach of ordering followed by threats had failed on both his brother and his best friend, while John had sailed in and succeeded with minimal effort and without raising his voice once.

“They always do that,” John said, shrugging one shoulder so as not to disturb her. “She’s a woman, you can guarantee she’ll say she wants to watch a movie but she’ll fall asleep half way through, she always does. If she can’t sleep I'll just put an episode of something on and that usually does the trick.”

He pointed to Alan. “It’s the same with him. Who do you think he called in the middle of the night when he was thinking too much about homework or the million other things that teenagers seem to worry about? Tell him to pick a movie, cover him with a blanket and he’ll be out in minutes.”

“That’s…” Scott paused, unsure what to say. “Useful to know,” he finished.

"Arguing and pushing someone doesn't always work, you have to use your brain, assess the situation and pick your battles. Tired people are stubborn people."

"You can say that again," I muttered having dealt with my fair share of tired and stubborn family members, the two worst culprits being the ones currently talking.

“You take care of him, I’ve got her,” John nodded at Alan, smoothly changing the subject.

Scott helped me lift Alan who, although skinny, was growing lankier by the day, all long limbs and sharp elbows that you have to arrange carefully or risk dropping him. I took him to his room, putting him to bed then returned to fetch Scott.

“He still asleep”? Scott asked, still in his chair.

“Yep,” I answered. “He’ll be in for a surprise when he wakes up though, he hardly ever uses his bed. He'll think that he teleported again.”

"True enough," Scott chucked softly. "You need help with her?" He nodded at witchy, who hadn't moved.

"Nope, I got this, it's not my first time." With the ease of much practice he gathered her closer, sliding an arm under her legs, shuffled to the edge of the couch and got awkwardly to his feet. "You two should get some sleep too."

"We will," I assured him.

"Well, see you both in the morning," he said, heading to the door.

"Wait a second," I called and he paused. I grabbed the little notebook she'd left on the table, holding it up for him to see. "She hasn't filled this in today, you wanna take it?"

"She doesn't trust me," he shifted her slightly, rebalancing her in his arms, her face buried in his neck. "Not since last time, though I don't know what she expected when she told me to report what had happened, reports are for the facts, I did just that. If she'd wanted me to recall every single detail of the day she should have specified that. You write it."

"Sure, I can do that," I agreed, pocketing it.

"Night then."

"Night, John."

"Night, Scott."

"Goodnight."

Three down, one to go.

"Come on, bro, all your chicks are nested, now it's our turn," I said, patting his shoulder as I passed. "Even smother hens have to sleep some time."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, " he grumbled, yawning loudly, stretching as he got to his feet, too tired to even protest the hated nickname. "Bedtime."

#alantracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Isolation Island #isolation #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction

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enkelimagnus · 3 years

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A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 1, 3966 words

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for

Read on AO3

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

On her first day at the Alabaster Sierras’ National Park, Vex’ahlia finds an injured cub.

She’s looking through the reserves that Regae, the last ranger, left behind when she hears whining and groaning, mournful and low, right outside of her new home. The cabin stands in a small clearing in the forest there, almost disappearing into the moss-covered stone of a stone spike.

The noise is heart-breaking, but it doesn’t stop her from grabbing her bow and her quiver, taking one of her white-fletched tranquilizing arrows in hand before she steps out, notching it into the bow, ready to do her duty. She wishes she had more time, more preparation, and a better lay of the land than the one she got from studying her maps in the motel rooms she slept in while on the road.

The door creaks as she opens it. There is a hard, ragged huff from an injured animal. She will need to grease the door hinges, she can’t have them making that much noise all the time.

Her sharp eyes catch the light reflecting on dark fur the second she looks out of the cabin. The animal is partially hidden behind some bushes, but it’s not moving a lot. It’s crying, looking around, seemingly hurt. As it turns, Vex catches a dark stain on the fur. Probably blood.

She needs to shoot it, shoot well and right so she can take care of it. Hopefully, a Cure Wounds will be enough.

Now that she’s away from the creaking door, her steps are much quieter. She moves forward with slow grace, her body used to the exercise of trying to get to an injured animal. She’s seen many, too many. People are violent and cruel to defenseless animals. She was hoping to have a couple days before she had to deal with one here…

She stops moving once she has a clear shot towards the tiny, maybe two months old bear cub. There is a crossbow bolt in its shoulder, and the poor creature is obviously in pain. There is no mother to be seen, and Vex’ahlia will need to scout the surrounding wounds for its corpse. She draws back the string and shoots.

She’s an excellent shot. The white arrow impacts, sticking into the fur of the cub, but not piercing the skin. At most, it’ll get a bruise from this. She sees the crackle of the magic effect around the white fletching and the whines and cries of distress slowly quiet.

Once she’s sure the bear isn’t moving anymore, she stands from her crouched spot and walks towards it.

She was right, it’s barely a couple of months old, small and fuzzy and probably incredibly adorable when awake and alright. She reaches down to examine him. There’s the crossbow bolt she previously saw. It’s not too deep in, and she assesses a Cure Wounds and a couple of healing potions mixed with its food for a couple of days should be enough to get this taken care of.

Her planned run to the nearest town, Whitestone, has just gotten much more urgent. The previous ranger left some things, but very few, and she definitely does not have enough to feed both her and the bear cub for the next couple of days.

Without much trouble, she picks up the animal, pulls it into her arms and walks back towards a small enclosed space next to the cabin, with an awning that allows for cover from the elements. It’s a rather standard feature of a lot of Ranger cabins, and she knows it’s where she can house the sleeping animal.

She sets him down there.

The inside of the cabin is still messy from her getting there and the healing kit hidden under the bed is outdated, so she grabs her own emergency kit from her backpack and goes back to the still sleeping animal. Now the hard part.

Vex takes her own arrow out of the fur first. The enchantment is still working on the cub, and taking it off won’t undo anything. She needs it out of the way to extract the crossbow bolt correctly. Her Cure Wounds is definitely not high enough to repair anything she messes up by being sloppy.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she whispers at the sleeping cub. She’s more talking to herself than to it at this point.

She focuses. She does the best she can really, but it’s definitely not the best work she’s ever done. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and casts Cure Wounds twice. She examines it more, but it seems her work was good enough to close the wound. She’ll have to keep an eye on it though.

She sighs heavily and cleans up the fur and the area again, just in case. The sleep effect will last for a few hours more, enough that she probably has time to drive into town and then come back. And of course, before that, she needs to find the mother. She hopes it’s already dead, deep down.

She can’t leave the animal free though, even tranquilized. She needs to keep an eye on him. There’s probably some crates around, she thinks, trying to remember if she saw something useful there. She rummages through everything, finding a very chipped Alabaster Sierras National Park mug, some old instant coffee that rolled under the bed next to the healing kit and…

A foldable dark blue crate, probably originally made for a small wolf or a fox but that will fit the cub perfectly. She puts some blankets and soft padding on the bottom of it and goes back outside, where the animal is still asleep and quiet. She gently puts it in, arranging the blanket so it’s comfortable. She tucks it under the table in the secluded care area.

She pulls her bow back to herself and gets ready for the worst part of her work. There are times when the only thing to do is to kill, and she cannot stand it, but she’s used so much of her strength on the cub that she fears she won’t be able to heal the mother, if it is even doable.

She notches another tranquilizing arrow, and starts walking.

Tracking the path of the injured cub isn’t hard. He was awkward and heavy, putting blood on leaves and shoving his way through the vegetation, leaving marks of his passage behind him. It’s a little heart-breaking.

It takes her a few minutes of walking, her bow ready to shoot before she sees it. The body of the mother.

There’s blood everywhere over the fur, crossbow bolts sticking out of the body. Vex stops and pauses. She watches and listens for anything, for a breath, for a groan, for anything.

Nothing.

The silence is deafening and the bear is dead. There’s no saving this one. A part of her wants to kill those who did that, and she’ll keep an eye on people with crossbows. She has one of the bolts back at the cabin, and she’ll commit it to memory, make sure she can recognize the killers.

She exhales. Mechanically, she tucks the arrow back into her quiver and starts walking home.

The cub, now officially orphaned, is still asleep in the small crate when she comes back. She’ll need supplies to care for him, he doesn’t look old enough for solid food. She’ll need so many things. Her grocery list lengthens in her mind as she tours the cabin to see what she already has.

She manages to haul the crate onto the passenger seat of her pick-up truck, tethering it securely with some extra belts she added there a long time ago for this exact purpose.

She has bags, her purse and everything she needs already in the truck, so she closes the door and hops into the driver seat of the truck.

It’s seen things, that truck, she’d gotten it second-hand and worn-in a few years ago when she started out. It’s hers now, with its bumper stickers and its muddy tire guards. She had it repainted in a dark blue-green color, more fitting for the forest.

Vex leaves her newfound home, setting the GPS on her phone. She doesn’t know the tracks of roads well yet, and the Rangers have a special app that tracks forest tracks and little mud paths as well as highways. It has saved her ass quite a number of times.

She sets the destination for Whitestone and gets going. With every bump of the road as her truck bounces around, she checks on the sleeping cub, hoping it won’t wake up. She’s taken her quiver and bow with her of course, and she still has some tranquilizing arrows, but she doesn’t want to use them right now, she’ll need them later.

The Alabaster Sierras are a wild sort of place, with legends upon legends baked into its name. So much that any sort of documentation you can find on both the park and the area is littered with myths. It’s enough to discourage many people, especially when Regae, the last person to man the outpost, died there under mysterious circumstances. No one volunteered to take their place. So Vex did.

She had been desperate to get away from Shademurk Forest, anyway. If she was already leaving, she might as well hide away in one of the Northernmost parts of the continent, the spike of land that bit into the Shearing channel. The inhabitants of Whitestone have a rather misanthropic reputation, which is absolutely to her liking. The fewer nosy assholes wandering the forest paths, the better.

It’s not that she dislikes hikers. She just really dislikes the mess they leave behind. Broken branches and trash and sometimes injured animals. People could be cruel in how they interact with nature and it lights an anger in her heart. Vax says it’s her projecting her own issues onto the parks, and he says it in that voice he uses when he gets serious, when his cutting remarks are softened by his concern. She hates agreeing with that voice.

She’s so far away from him, once again, and she kind of hates it. No, she absolutely hates it. He’s her twin, her other half, and she hates knowing he’s probably still hanging around in Syngorn committing burglary on their father’s shitty friends. Maybe she should call him and ask him to come and stay here.

She shakes away the thought. The cabin is too small, and there’s no reason for him to come here. He’s relatively happy working in Syngorn with his gang of misfits, she doesn’t need to pull him away from his life. She already made that mistake once in Shademurk Forest, and she’s not going to do it again.

It takes her about thirty minutes to drive carefully down to Whitestone.

The treeline stops abruptly as Vex drives out of the forest into farmlands. Her eyes trace the vegetation to check for the telltale signs of abuse but enough of it bleeds into the fields to show a healthy respect for the wild. The area is protected though, so as long as those lines are not changed without permission, she doesn’t have to worry about excessive deforestation.

That’s the thing with parks. They’re protected. It allows for her to worry less about some aspects of the small city’s presence there.

She drives onto a road made of something that isn’t dirt and stops thinking as much about the animal by her side. There’s a light jam at the Western Gate of the city, but nothing that irritates her more than normal.

She parks in a big, mostly empty, lot and leaves her windows cracked open for the cub still inside.

The town has wooden buildings, most of them one-level. She seems to be not far from the center square where an enormous tree stands; she can see it bows over the rooftops of the buildings. The roads are a little quiet and empty, with occasional trucks passing-by similar to hers.

Vex grabs supplies for twelve gold at the general store and one gold’s worth of ammo at the weaponry. People don’t seem to pay much attention to her. It makes sense, she’s new in town and they’re used to hikers and people on holiday; a new face isn’t ground-breaking.

The cub is still sleeping like an angel when she finishes loading most of the supplies in the truck. She still has one more stop however.

Late afternoon sunlight is bathing the streets in orange when Vex pushes open the door of the Alcove. It’s a plain little building made of dark wood, with an old metallic sign jingling about over the door. As she walks in, a bell rings, shoved by the door.

The inside is small, a little cramped, with a little too much dust. It’s less well-kept than the ones she’s frequented in Syngorn or that one she’s visited on the way here when she’d driven through Westrunn. She knows better than to judge however. As long as she can haggle down some prices, she’s all good with whatever the shop looks like.

She’s not the only client here. In front of the register is a tall half-elven person with long red hair and skin that is quite well-tanned. There’s a circlet around their forehead, with antlers sprouting from it and vines wrapped around the headband. They’ve got a worn backpack on their shoulders, and they’re talking animatedly with the person on the other side of the counter.

“-made this one last month and he tried to improve on his previous design. He’s expecting a little more from that one though, if you don’t mind?” The redhead asks, looking absolutely sweet and unsure.

Vex positions herself in parallel to the redhead, eyes on an ornate piece of clockwork. She isn't trying to figure out what it is, she’s only looking at it so she doesn’t stare at the two others while she listens in on their conversation.

The store employee sighs a little. There’s a light noise of metal scraping against wood.

“I’ll see what I can do, Keyleth, but times are hard right now. He’ll understand, I think,” they say. Their voice is heavy and wary.

“I… I’ll explain,” the redhead - Keyleth - replies. “But… he’s trying to keep Cass afloat too, and it’s getting hard. They’re still not giving her the money.”

Maybe she shouldn’t be listening to this conversation. That Keyleth person seems genuinely sad and Vex starts feeling a little bad for them, and whoever they’re talking about. It sounds like legal trouble as well as financial, and Gods she really is being a nosy asshole, isn’t she?

She turns her attention back on the clockwork on the shelf. It’s a miniature clock that ticks slowly with passing of time. It’s pretty, delicate, with little etched markings in the metal for the minutes. She reaches out for it.

“Please, don’t!” The shopkeeper calls out right as she’s about to touch it and she turns towards them.

The one called Keyleth is looking at her with wide green eyes. There’s a smattering of freckles over their face.

“Is it fragile?” Vex asks curiously.

“It’s a weapon,” Keyleth replies, cutting off the shopkeeper. “You shouldn’t touch it without knowing what it does. Creator’s request.”

Vex raises an eyebrow and takes a couple of steps towards the register. “Are you the creator?”

The wooden top of the desk has two more of the clockwork machines on them, one that looks like a watch and another like a wind-up toy.

Keyleth laughs, a bright but kinda snorty sort of laugh that is immediately endearing. “Oh, no! I’m way too clumsy to make stuff like this!” They smile. “I’m a friend of the creator.”

“He makes them and then sends her to sell them to me at high price,” the shopkeeper grumbles, but they don’t seem to be mad at the redhead or her creator friend.

Vex eyes the redhead a little closer. Her ears are pointier than a human but not as elongated as an elf. She’s a fellow othlir , and she’s wearing sturdy hiking shoes under her flowy green-colored ensemble.

“I’m Keyleth of the Air Ashari,” she holds out her hand, not knowing Vex has been listening in. “Nice to meet you.”

Vex shakes the offered hand. “Vex’ahlia. I’m the new ranger for the Alabaster Sierras park. There to keep a good eye on the hikers and the area.” Her tone is firm. If Keyleth is smart, she’ll get that Vex won’t allow anything to slide. Maybe Regae did, or maybe he didn’t. Either way, Vex means business.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Keyleth grins. “Should I hope to see you around when I’m out there?”

Vex winces. “Probably not. I tend to appear when people fuck up.”

“Well, she’s a druid, so you shouldn’t worry much about her disrespecting nature,” the shopkeeper chuckles. “I’m Simon Whisk, by the way. Owner of the Alcove.”

Keyleth points at the staff resting against the register which appears to be both a walking stick and a druidic focus. Vex relaxes a little.

“Well I’m glad, that’s one less person I have to worry about,” she chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Mr Whisk.”

They seem to be nice people, even if Vex has many questions about the creator, about the weapons. Whitestone just got marginally more interesting.

“Can I help you in any way, Vex’ahlia?” Whisk asks after a moment of quite awkward silence.

Vex nods, smiling a little. “Oh, yes, yes. Do you have any tranquilizing arrows or blow gun needles?”

“Let me check,” the shopkeeper turns around and pushes through the curtain that leads to the backroom, leaving Vex alone with Keyleth.

The redhead is moving a little, shifting from one foot to the other, seemingly trying to find something to say. Her boots have a little bit of dried mud on them, the end of her staff as well. She seems like she just came back from a hike. Vex decides to put her out of her lack of conversation-induced misery.

“What trail were you on?” She asks, motioning towards the backpack.

“Oh,” Keyleth smiles. “The one on the west side of the castle? It snakes around the bottom of the platform the castle is on.”

That’s not a trail. At least not one that’s on Vex’ map. She takes note of that, of the fact she’s going to have to work the trail, make it safe and write it into the maps and softwares of the area.

“Do you take it often?”

Keyleth shrugs. “Every time I’m in town. That’s about… once a month?”

So it’s her favorite too. “How many people do you see there usually? Is it well used?”

“Oh, not really,” the woman shrugs again. “It’s pretty forgotten, I think. Only me and a couple of friends know it.”

That’s good news, as far as Vex is concerned. It makes working it less urgent. She still puts it on her to-do list for the next few days. She needs a good lay of the land if she wants to do her job correctly. She’s already understaffed enough for the size of the park.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Vex smiles professionally, her mind already working. She really needs to go. The druid is sweet but she needs to check on the cub again, and then she really wants to call Vax.

Simon Whisk comes back at about that moment with a small box of what seems to be blowgun needles.

“No arrows, but there’s these. They’re one gold, for ten of them,” he points out. Vex pays in coin and thanks both of them.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she nods. “I’ll be around for more purchases later.”

“Pleasure,” the man nods.

Keyleth waves lightly with her right hand and Vex walks away.

She shoves open the door, her purchases under her arms. The sun has almost disappeared behind the buildings and she needs to drive home fast. She doesn’t really want to try through unknown forest paths in the middle of the night, even if she has darkvision.

Vex straps the boxes and crates she got in the back of her pick-up truck so they won’t fly off while she drives. She puts her bow down in between the passenger seat and the dash, and looks down into the plastic crate.

The cub is asleep still, knocked out. He’s curled up on himself, fluffy brown fur rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. Eyes closed and little claws tucked into the blanket. Vex melts.

Poor baby, all alone in this world now. She’s going to need to be his mother for a while and she wishes she didn’t have to. She’ll do the absolute best she can though. He deserves that, if anything.

Vex slides into the driver seat and starts the drive back to the cabin, back home. No. She’s not there yet, not ready to call it home. It’ll come though, it always does. She needs a moment, and a phone call with her brother.

She sets the GPS to the fastest route and it guides her out of the Eastern gate this time, driving in between the city and the cemetery. Right as she engages herself into the surrounding motorway, traffic slows down into a jam. Vex huffs, putting on the heating. She doesn’t turn on the radio, despite how she wants some noise to fill the silence. She doesn’t want to wake the cub up until she’s ready to care for him.

Her eyes slide over the cars in front of her, a lot of trucks and a couple of slicker cars, probably from the richest inhabitants of the city. Her teenage home of Syngorn was filled with these and only these, dark and smoked-out, driving around assholes who pretended to be better than everyone else.

She looks away from the cars that bring back memories. Two structures tower at the Southern and Northern sides of the cemetery and she’s currently stuck by the southern one to go back to the cabin.

It’s a tall stone edifice with stained glass windows. It’s a rather common feature of temples of Pelor; these ones were ten feet tall and the usual design of the sun was half-hidden behind a gigantic beautiful tree. In front of beautifully-carved double doors stand two figures. Vex probably shouldn’t stare at them; she does it anyway.

The one standing in the arched opening of the doors is tall, with salt and pepper hair. From afar, Vex can’t exactly make out the features of their face. They’re wearing a cream, gold and red robe with a gold sash around the waist. She assumes they’re a priest of this temple.

The other one is shorter, slighter and wearing much darker clothes; a dark blue woolen coat and dark brown thigh-high boots are as much as Vex can make out from her car. Their hair is brown, but streaked in an interesting way with white: a few strands at the temples.

The two of them seem deep in conversation, the blue-wearing one clutching at their coat. Just as Vex tries to focus to see their lips and try to read their conversation, a loud honking noise makes her almost jump out of her seat.

The cars in front of her have moved and her lack of following irritates those stuck behind.

Vex rolls her eyes and gets back to driving home. As she makes her way from motorway to road to mud, mist falls over the forest, slipping through the trees and making it a little harder to get to the cabin safely. It blurs the lines of the trunks. A shiver runs down her spine.

#perc'ahlia #percy de rolo #vex'ahlia #fic #mine #critical role #vox machina

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mickeymouse-moshpit · 3 years

Text

street lights, people

A/N: Hello, kind readers of this fic that I have taken entirely too long to update. I’m so sorry for the wait! And I also have to apologize because there is a whole first part of this that is stored on my computer, which is currently in the mail for repairs. I will post that part as well once it’s back, just please hold on and know that 1) there’s definitely context to being on Fennec’s bike in it and 2) there will be spicy things in the next part. Anyway, uh, if there’s typos I’m very sorry, and enjoy!

Description: Fennec and peds!Reader go on a date

Warnings: Some brief verbal harassment, brief description of dissociating, a little angst if you squint hard enough, Fennec and peds!Reader doing their thing

Rating: T

Word count: 2.7K

January 24th

Read part one here

You followed her out and down the lined path, hands sitting in the pockets of your jacket to keep warm. She threaded her arm through yours, and led you down the street to a book shop of all places.

“I remembered you telling me about that new series you wanted to read, something about gay witches? And you’re always talking about how much you want to go to the bookstore but you never do. So, go browse. I want to see what your process looks like.”

“Th—that’s really thoughtful. I don’t know that I really have a true process, but yeah let’s go look!” You opened the door for her, a light going on inside you as you got your first waft of bookstore smell: the paper, the ink. You got the first wave of the noise: the low music playing in the background, the people there talking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out any conversations happening, could barely hear that there were lyrics in the music. You stopped for a moment, scanning the layout of the room. Your eyes landed first on the display of bookmarks and postcards, making a mental note to get one or two of each to remember this little town so you could find it one day. But then your train of thought halted: could you come here alone?

Best not to dwell.

Your eyes resumed their scanning, noting the different sections. You wandered to the right, letting your gaze drift over the painting beside the door. It was line art of two bodies intertwined, splashed with color to resemble a galaxy where they met. The notecard below it gave the title and artist’s name. And a price. You were struck by how nice it would look on your art wall. But that was for another day.

You started your first pass through the stacks, letting your eyes skate over the spines of the books, pausing to read the note cards when they gave a recommendation from one of the workers. Your fingers started to take on a mind of their own, catching on books here and there, bringing them out for you to investigate. Every couple of them, you would open to the first page, let the author’s words try to entice you. You put most of them back, but a green paperback one with a bent cover stayed behind. You held it close as you continued on, pacing with no purpose at all. If someone didn’t know you, they would think you had a system, but really you were just letting yourself be on autopilot. That is, until you got to the section that housed the series you had read about and wanted.

“This is it!” You hoped your whisper would convey your excitement to Fennec. You had been watching book recommendation videos and this series had come up, promising both a love story and adventure. “I hope th—they do! They’ve got both!”

You plucked both the paperback and hardcover from the shelves, adding them to your little stash. Your small smile would not leave your face.

Fennec watched as you dragged yourself away from the section, mentally patting herself on the back for this idea. You looked so happy, at peace. If she was a part of that? She would consider herself both clever and immensely lucky. As she followed you back to one of the sections you had drifted through, she watched your perusing turn into a hunt. You furrowed your brow as you sank down to kneel and scan for what she wasn’t quite sure. She pulled two more books from the shelf.

“Have you read this one?” She held up a copy of a book called Circe.

“No, but someone at work was talking about it the other day.” She hoped you wouldn’t be disappointed, and wasn’t disappointed when you slid the book back into its place with a mischievous look. Fennec’s mind went straight into the gutter for a moment, imagining you in a very different situation but with the same look.

“Good, you’ll borrow my copy.” There was no arguing, it was a fact. She would.

You stood up again, still holding onto the other book. You were off again, and while she thought you clutching four books to your chest was possibly the cutest thing she had ever seen, you were going to drop one if you kept getting distracted. When you stopped again, she held her hands out.

“Here, let me carry them. You use your hands to browse.”

You nodded once and sank down again, grabbing one of the recommended titles and popping up again. You paused, before setting it on the pile Fennec was holding, warmth building in your face as she gave you one of her smiles.

You set off with one more stop in mind. The waiting room library at your office was lacking in chapter books as of late. You let your feet carry you to the children’s section.

“What are we doing here? I didn’t take you for the Warrior Cats type. “

“The selection of chapter books in my waiting room is looking a little sparse here lately. I want to see what the kids are into so I can update the wishlist.”

Fennec looked at you like you had suddenly turned purple with polka dots and sprouted antennae.

“I have a bookshelf in the waiting room, and I always make it clear to kids and parents that the books on it are meant to be read, cherished, read again, both while waiting and when they go home, with no expectation of return. The Little Golden Books usually do come back, just like most of the other books meant for the teeny-tinies. The chapter books get sparse and don’t tend to come back, but I like it that way. It means I’ve got another reader who gets to learn about the magic of words.”

“But where do the books come from?”

“Well, at first it was just me. There were some parents who made it very clear when I mentioned the shelf that they were perfectly capable of providing their kids with books and how dare I assume otherwise. There were others that you could tell were extremely grateful. There were also a few that had a problem with it but not for any good reason but I’m sure you know what kind of parents I’m getting at.”

She did.

“Then one day I was in the little shop in town and one of the little ones who had started on chapter books saw me and ran up, telling me all about how she had saved her allowance and she was able to get the sequel to the book she had gotten from me. The owner of the shop heard it, and when I went to buy the book I had picked out along with some chapter books for the waiting room, he told me he would let me start a wishlist and he would put it by the register for people to see and maybe buy one or two.”

“Do you usually get what you ask for?”

“It depends on the time of year. During the holidays people get more generous so it’s time to update the list. Hence the reading castle.” You gestured to the structure before you, an alcove that had a castle facade and was filled with still more books. “And the wall of chapter books.”

Before she could formulate a response, you had pulled out your phone and started making a list. Fennec watched you with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name. The earnest way you took on your task had her pulling out her own phone while you weren’t watching to send a message to the garage group chat. When you had finished, you brushed a hand over her shoulder as you walked by.

You wandered to your last stop: the display at the front. You picked out a pack of bookmarks that were little magnetic trees before turning your attention to the display of postcards. You chose one that was a picture of the gazebo in the middle of town at night, surrounded by twinkle lights with “wish you were here” in small text at the bottom.

You walked up to the register and Fennec plopped your pile of finds on the counter.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” The older salesperson behind the register had half a smirk on his face as he queried you. “I haven’t seen someone quite as methodical as you, even covered the section for children.”

You weren’t sure if the sarcastic tone was real or meant as a lighthearted joke, but either way you felt your cheeks warm again, and not in a good way. You wondered for a moment if the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You felt Fennec’s arm wrap its way around your torso again as the salesperson started ringing up the books.

“Being thorough is one of the best things about her. And this is just me, but I think it would be kind of nice if my kid’s pediatrician knew enough about what their media looked like to be able to talk to them at their level about things other than their health.”

“Oh so she’s a big kid is what you’re saying? What, does she play with dolls, or are toys more for the bedroom?” That definitely wasn’t meant in a kind way.

Fennec’s arm tightened around you before you got the chance to just slip away and out the door, as if she knew that was something you might do.

“I would stop talking about them if I were you.” Her voice was low, had taken on a dangerous edge that matched what others saw in her leather jacket.

He got the hint, hurrying up with the transaction. When the final total came up, you reached into your pocket, not really feeling anything for that moment or registering the number that flashed in your general direction. Before you could get your card liberated, Fennec was already sliding hers into the chip reader. You wanted to protest, wanted to tell her it was too much, but the interaction was a sea witch that had stolen your voice and you could only look on as the books and other small items were wrapped and put into a bag and Fennec was turning you in a circle to get you out of the shop.

You weren’t even aware that your feet had moved until you were in front of her bike and she had distributed the books into the two saddle bags. She faced you and put her hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

You looked at her, answering her question with the question mark that had seemingly etched itself on your face.

“Hello? Earth to Doc? Are you in there?” She gave your shoulders a little shake, before she wrapped you in her arms. You finally felt like you could take a deep breath again as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, letting the pressure she was providing ground you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the collar of her sweater.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. He should be sorry. If he hadn’t stopped talking, I would have made him sorry.”

“I wanted to stop you from paying, it was too much.”

“No. I wanted to do that, it was the plan from the beginning.”

“Really?” You pulled back slightly, peeking at her, searching her face but not having much luck in the low light.

“Yes really. Now, I had something else planned, do you want to know what it is so you can decide if you still want to do it?”

You considered it, but the phantom hollow in your chest and the way your arms and legs still didn’t feel like they belonged to you gave you your answer.

“I want to know, but not yet. Keep it secret, show me next time. I’ve got my own idea though. Will you take me home? I want to show you the Books.”

***

You didn’t want to let go of her, but you needed to if you were going to go inside where it was warm. So you did. When she had taken the books out and put them back in their bag, you headed for the three steps that led up to the door of your half of the duplex. You unlocked the door, nearly dropping the keys because your hands were so cold. You caught them before Fennec could tease you about it.

You clicked on the light in the entryway, lighting the way as she took a few steps inside again. You took the bag from her, and nodded to your left. Behind the stairs to the loft, there was a doorway. You walked through it and to the right, knowing the room in the darkness. You stepped on the clicker for the floor lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. You walked over to the electric fireplace that added some extra heat to the room, switching it on.

You went back to where she was standing in the doorway, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. You took them in yours and brought her in.

Her eyes widened as she took in the space.

The room screamed comfort. All four walls were covered by bookshelves that reached the ceiling, with two interruptions. The first was around the fireplace, if you could even call it that. There was a painting in front of it, but her eyes were too busy wandering to take it in just yet. Her gaze drifted to the window, where either you or the previous owners had built a seat large and plush enough to recline in. While that should have been the star of the room, it wasn’t.

In front of the fireplace was a massive sectional sofa. She was sure it had to have a pull out option you were taking advantage of because it looked more like a bed-sofa hybrid with the way the middle was seemingly filled to the brim with throw pillows and faux-fur blankets.

You stood watching her take it in, as she eventually started looking at the books lining the shelves, punctuated by the odd piece of memorabilia. There was such a variety, all alphabetized, with the only delineation by genre she could see being poetry and prose. As she browsed, you placed your books on the window seat, and from under it produced two stamps: one to mark the books as yours, and one to put a place for people who borrowed them to sign. Others always asked if it was to make sure they came back, but you always replied with no, it was to make sure people could see if they had borrowed them before. You put the books onto the rolling cart that already had a small pile to be put away. Some of them were new, some you had reread and needed to return.

Task complete, you perched on the back of the couch to watch her.

“I should start referring to you as a dragon. You’ve got quite the hoard, baby.” Her words were quiet, wrapped with kindness. “It’s impressive. Thank you for showing me this part of you.”

“I just really like them.” Your smile was growing as she got closer to you. You stood and wrapped yourself around her again. “Does that make you the maiden in need of rescue?”

“Oh, no, you can keep me here as long as you want. Besides, don’t you know the dragon needs saving too sometimes?”

“In that case…” You paused, stealing yourself. “Would you stay a while? I can make tea, we can read, if you’re okay with you could do that pressure thing again?”

“You mean will I hold you close, let you hide your face in my neck for a minute again? Let you whisper things you don’t think I’ll hear but I will anyway?”

You nodded once.

“In that case, I’ll do ‘that pressure thing’ for as long as you need me to. But you have to let me try out this couch nest thing because it looks amazing.”

“Of course, but the first rule of the dragon’s lair is this: no jackets.”

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

More author’s notes: if you’re curious about what series peds!Reader was looking for, it’s These Witches Don’t Burn and its sequel by Isabel Sterling. She wants Fennec to read Circe by Madeline Miller, and she bought The Song of Achilles, also by Madeline Miller

Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell @promiscuoussatan @maybege @jangofctts

#street lights people #Fennec Shand x reader #fennec shand #biker!Fennec #biker au #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic #wlw #the mandalorian fanfiction #Star Wars au

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