#Or perhaps he carries out what the worst of society expects of him. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yvesdot · 3 years

Note

Hi, yves., it's yves. again. Could we get something, anything, with the side characters from KAY? Or maybe even the main characters from KAY? I really just want a double bingo and some problems, thanks. (-yvesdot)

Sure! I didn't enjoy writing the Constantine and Ariel one, though. I mean, that was like pulling teeth. Why did we do that?

KAY - ARRANGED MARRIAGE / RIVAL KINGDOMS

Atlas watches Kay from a distance first. She sits in a window alcove, her feet tucked up beside her, looking out at the snow swirling outside. Her chiffon stole slips, along with the train of her layered periwinkle dress, off the side of the ledge and onto the ground. She has a sharp face; long-lashed dark eyes set in darker expressions. She always looks a little strange in her clothes—she clearly does her own lacing, somehow. Today her hair is impeccably restrained by not only a bow but another length of blue chiffon. When Atlas has had enough of staring at the perfect cast of her mouth, he steps out into the hall, sweeping his cape out of the way.

Kay looks up the moment he makes a sound, taking the same visual inventory she does every day. What is it about him that makes her look at him that way? Is it his size; his height—mostly the boots? The all-black clothes? Or does she just hate him? He kneels beside the alcove, letting his frilly blouse take up a little of her arm room.

“What do you think, Princess?” he asks. “Is this going to solve everything?”’

Kay looks back outside the window, like his questions are beneath her.

“Good thing we’re straight cis people,” Atlas comments, examining the rings on his hands. “That’ll make this easy for both of our families.”

Kay makes a sound that might be a laugh. When Atlas stands, his boots scrape against the tile of the hall, echoing through the empty space.

“Hey,” he says, “do you have some kind of problem? I don’t dislike you. In fact—” He lifts her chin gently, with one hand. “I think you’re very pretty.”

“I could not care less whether you are attracted to me,” Kay says, glaring up at him. “The problem is that I am attracted to you.”

“Great,” Atlas says. “That makes perfect sense.”

And to stop her from adding anything else, he kisses her. She wraps her arms entirely around him, so that he has to bend down to keep from lifting her up. Soon they are wrapped up in each other, Kay’s hands at the lacing of Atlas’s cape and his in her hair, their breath fogging up the window only slightly, so that when Atlas pushes Kay up against it she starts at the chill. He swallows her gasp, pulling the ribbons out of her hair. He gets as far as one hand in the off-the-shoulder collar of her dress before she pulls away, making some inarticulate sound of pleasure.

Atlas takes one of Kay’s thin hands in his and drops a pearl ring into it.

“Consider it?” he asks, politely. He is sitting half in and half out of the alcove, one foot up beside Kay and one resting on the floor.

“Neither of us have any choice,” Kay says. Atlas lifts and lowers one shoulder, kissing her cheek.

“Thanks, Princess,” he murmurs, standing up. He adjusts his cape slightly before walking away. “See you later.”

✱ Kay’s outfit looks something like this with a lighter petticoat and the aforementioned stole. Atlas is wearing something like the black ouji outfit pictured here, though of course he’s also buff and whatnot. (Scroll down in both cases to see photos.) I wanted to find the perfect cape for him, and honestly, I didn’t succeed. Kay’s hairthings don’t exist in physical reality, either.

KAY (Glinda) - SOULMATE / ROAD TRIP / ROYALTY

I really really really like Glinda, and all of these prompts suited her, and I won't even get to write her until Book Two. Enjoy.

Glinda clicks away from the Moi-Meme-Moitie tab and returns to the forums, scrolling aimlessly. She tries the new posts category and opens Your Experiences Dating?, which is from the last week and is fully unread.

The original poster is someone named JenniK, marked Transgender - Female, Bisexual.

Hi, guys & dolls: how do YOU find accepting people to date? Or don’t you? Am going on five years single but can’t figure out how to put myself out there. Pass okay (in the right lighting, haha) but it just seems so complicated.

LadyLake (Transgender - Female, Heterosexual) responds:

Hmmmm, to be honest I’m not really sure. I have been with my boyfriend (also trans) for so long, and we met almost by accident. We both had ‘trans’ on our MySpace!!

Mari614 (Transgender - Female):

To be honest, I am in the same boat as you. After I came out to my wife, we both knew it was a ‘no-go’, so I have been single for a while. Hoping this thread has some good advice in it.

K1Fan (Transgender - Male, Questioning):

Sorry to hear that, Mari614. I also can’t give advice, for the opposite reason—have been in a relationship since before I knew I was trans, and my boyfriend doesn’t mind (he is bisexual). The main issue for me has been the fact that we can’t get married if I change my gender marker, so I am still deciding that.

frozeninside (Transgender - Female):

like i’ve said in other threads, i am married, but my wife doesn’t know! someday will work up the courage to tell her, i hope.

FlyWalker (No Gender Listed):

I met my current wife on the forums :) I know a lot of transsexual people meet their partners online, like LadyLake said. Maybe online is for you? @TwoPages where did you meet your partner?

TwoPages (Transgender - Female, Homosexual)

There’s never any other discussion on these forums, is there? Unfortunately, that relationship is over; it was also under such specific circumstances I’m afraid I can’t advise JenniK either. My only thoughts on the subject are that I would only be with someone who knew me completely (that is to say—not to date ‘stealth’ or while closeted), and I have been very careful with whom I have told. Of course, I seem to have a conflicted relationship with ‘passing’, so that no doubt informs my experience.

FlyWalker (No Gender Listed):

Gah—sorry, Page! Still, I think you gave good advice :) Hope you’re doing okay.

The other thing I just thought of is meetups. Our forum topic In Person Meetups is usually busy enough. There’s one happening in your area, Page, if you want the info: it’s in this thread. And maybe JenniK can find a partner there too :)

TwoPages (Transgender - Female, Homosexual)

Thank you, FlyWalker; that’s very helpful. Don’t worry about not knowing. I haven’t mentioned it.

Glinda hits the bottom of the page and stops. She flips her braids over her shoulder again and sits back. In the comment box, she types:

I haven’t dated since I began my transition, but I wouldn’t say I had bad luck dating beforehand, either. Usually I would tell girlfriends that I had special ‘rules’, and if they asked why I would just admit I was strange. I figured: we all have our preferences. In my experience, cisgender women are often willing to put up with a lot of ‘preferences’. It helps that I was more of a giver than a receiver :) Also, they thought I was a nice boy. It probably doesn’t seem like it after this post, but I am very shy in person.

Maybe I only dated women who were naturally kind, but it’s possible you will find someone who is as accepting, once they care about you. I think coming out is half the problem… it would be easier if any potential partner knew I was trans, but of course, not as safe, right?

She leans back, tapping her black-painted fingers on the keyboard.

TwoPages, I think I’m in your area. (I saw your thread about clothes shopping, but like I said there, I’m too into fashion subcultures to help you look like a normal person. I hope you got the help you were looking for—I saw FranniePie said she would meet up with you.) Maybe we should both go.

She looks over her post, bites a nail, and wonders if that looks suspicious in a dating thread. She doesn’t know what she could say that would make it less suspicious, though, and referencing their ages only makes it seem creepier. Alternatively, she could just be quiet, which is attractive but no longer possible after she spent fifteen minutes agonizing over this post in the first place. Besides, she should go outside. So she hits post. Her signature glitters encouragingly.

Then she reads through the meetup thread—it’s something fairly generic for Trans People And Their Loved Ones—and wonders how in the world she is going to get there, because apparently FlyWalker doesn’t realize how large a state can be (and how bad the bus routes can get). Glinda takes out her phone and texts a road trip-friendly fashion meetup friend with a pink car. The friend is not really trans aware, only Glinda aware, but that might be enough. Anyway (Glinda promises over text) they can get coffee.

She waits a few seconds to look over her text messages and then returns to the forums. Upon refreshing the page, there’s a new message:

TwoPages (Transgender - Female, Homosexual)

I’m not sure whether I’ll go, TheGoodWitch, so I don’t want to get your hopes up.

P. S.: Your response was very helpful, though I probably ought to delete that thread before it becomes incriminating. It seems to be making everyone think that I dress like some kind of paratrooper.

Glinda laughs softly. It did sort of seem like that. Glinda went crossdressing-first into being trans, though, so it’s not really fair of her to judge—sometimes she sees posts from girls who make it sound like they spent their whole lives as some other species before emerging as human. She considers saying that, but it’s not dating-related, and she’s derailed this random person’s thread enough. When she refreshes the page just in case, though, someone’s added a long story about how they met their partner, so she doesn’t feel as guilty saying Don’t worry about it! and even considers adding an emoji.

Her phone pings: I’m in! She hits post on her laptop and turns back to her phone to see another message: Wear the AATP Princess Aldiwa coord!! I want to see you go FULL FAIRY PRINCESS. She grins and sends back: I’m never not a fairy princess; what are you talking about?

So that’s it.

She rubs at her eyes. She didn’t even check the date.

KAY (Constantine & Ariel) - GHOST / MODERN OR HISTORICAL?

This came out of an idea to debate modern vs classical dueling, but, well, it makes no sense if you don't know what a parry dagger is... Ariel, of course, is ghostly in the sense that he is MIA in canon. The Rainier family doesn't know whether he's dead or alive, having not been in contact with him for a while, and being a Rainier seems to be hazardous to one's health... but then again, maybe that's why he left.

Constantine is a bad fencing partner. Ariel needs one, obviously, if he wants to make the team, but he doesn’t like inviting people to his house and likes even less requesting permission to go to someone else’s house. So while the other guys are practicing second intentions and blade-beating and evasive movements that look like yoga, Ariel is poking his sword at his older brother, who forgets right of way and keeps crossing his feet when he needs to step back.

“You’re doing it again,” Ariel says, removing his mask to shake out his hair. “You’d be disqualified for that in a tournament.”

“It’s too much to remember,” Constantine protests. He never looks quite as small as when he’s wearing Ariel’s spare fencing jacket and mask. All that white just makes his eyes look like a cartoon character’s behind the grille.

“We have an outside broom, and an inside broom, and a spare broom, and you know where all of them are,” Ariel reminds him.

Constantine frowns. “Yes, well, I live here. I should know.”

Ariel shrugs, but puts his mask back on and assumes position.

“Your feet are wrong,” he calls over to Constantine. “Do it like you’re making a box.”

“Making—what? This is how you’re standing.”

“Your whole front’s open. Stand sideways—” Ariel exaggerates the pose a little— “so that I have a smaller target.”

Constantine grumbles something but boxes his feet. Ariel tries a feint and Constantine does not even attempt to block it. So how is Ariel supposed to practice his feints? He tries doing it all in slow motion, but it’s not the same; he can never get a hit in against the fencing team captain. Andrew.

Ariel whacks Constantine in the head.

“Your point,” Constantine says.

“You’re not even trying!”

“I’m trying! I’m boxing my feet!”

“Well, try blocking! Look—” And Ariel lunges. Constantine starts moving out of the way about three seconds too late. “I need to practice. I could do this against a tree trunk.”

“Then do that! I don’t want—”

“No, come on, please!” Ariel walks over to Constantine and corrects his stance. It’s not Constantine’s fault that he is short and kind of useless, Ariel thinks. He’s just scholarly, and Ariel has to be patient with him. Also, he’s holding the sword wrong again, like it’s a lightsaber. Ariel fixes that too, and then the way Constantine’s jacket is clipped. “There. Now pretend we’re in the Olympics.”

“I’m not going to pretend—”

“Then pretend I’m going to kill you. I will kill you if I don’t make the team.”

Ariel can’t see Constantine’s face properly through the mask, but this close, he can tell Constantine has considered saying something and thought better of it. Then he opens his mouth again.

“This isn’t useful for self-defense,” he says.

“What?” Ariel steps back, bouncing his sword impatiently in his hand.

“Nobody is going to challenge you to a duel,” Constantine says. “Nobody is going to fence you if they want to kill you. This is useless.”

��Not surprised you can’t appreciate the fine art of a gentleman’s duel,” Ariel comments, and he’s standing a little too far back to see if Constantine rolls his eyes. He probably does, though. “Now, try to keep your hand out of the way when I come at you. Nobody would have their arms out like a duck at the Olympics.”

Constantine assumes his stance again, seeming a little improved this time, and Ariel baits him around a little bit before lunging and whapping him in the left arm, again.

“You’re so bad at this!” Ariel is laughing, removing his mask, but when Constantine pulls his off his face is flushed with anger. “Oh, come on, Connie—”

“Don’t call me that!” Constantine flings his sword to the ground, and then, without warning, he flings himself at Ariel. Ariel’s never fought someone before. He has no idea what to do, short of hitting the ground. After that it is all trying to keep Constantine off of him. “Do you have any idea,” Constantine shouts, trying uselessly to pummel Ariel, “how hard it is to be your brother?”

They roll over on the ground, once, and then again, so that Constantine is above Ariel, and Ariel is just trying to keep Constantine’s hands out of the way.

“What,” Ariel pants, “are you talking about? You’re older than me. Everyone expects me to be like you. You know—they see my last name in roll, and they say, Ariel, Constantine’s brother—”

“You know what they say about me?” Constantine yells. “‘Does Andrew think you’re cute, too?’”

Ariel stops breathing.

“What?”

“Your fencing captain,” Constantine spits. “Thinks. That. You. Are. ‘Cute’. Apparently. As I have been told only a dozen times within the past week.”

There has to be a response that will get him out of this. Surely anyone else would process this information differently. Ariel knows, even as the seconds are passing, that it is too late, and he has lost his chance to give any defense. And as he is wondering what exactly it is that he has to defend, Constantine points a dagger at his throat. It’s his personal one; the one with RAINER engraved on the blade.

“I could kill you,” Constantine spits. “Think twice before you laugh at me, Ariel.”

He gets up. Ariel, lying on the ground with a hot, grass-scented breeze in his nostrils, searches for something to do. He finds himself laughing, again.

“You hid it in your sleeve!” he cries, putting his hands to his face. “That’s why—that’s why you shake with the ungloved hand after the match! So your opponent can’t stab you! It’s practical!” This is the funniest thing in the world to Ariel, as Constantine flings his gear on the ground and walks inside, holding the dagger backwards, but once he’s gone, it doesn’t seem funny at all.

Ariel makes the team, and thus doesn’t have to kill Constantine. He considers bringing something up with Andrew—you know, don’t make fun of me, I might be a freshman but I’m not that small, and it’s embarrassing my brother, because the other guys are messing with him—but can’t find any way to approach it. He even wonders, for a fleeting, painful moment, whether Constantine could have made it up. Could have thought of the only thing that would have had Ariel speechless. And though that kind of cruelty, or in fact planning, seems beyond Constantine, the fact that he noticed—that he took advantage of it—Ariel is nauseated by the humiliation.

He looks across the gym, where Andrew is running Frisbee drills with a handful of latecomers. They’re not wearing any gear, just holding swords, and a thin triangle of sweat stains Andrew’s tank top. He stops for a moment to adjust his ponytail, pulling the scrunchie off and wrapping it around his wrist, and before he can catch Ariel looking, Ariel turns on his heel and walks out of the gym, into the searing sun.

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#Okay some final thoughts. I posted the Princess Aldiwa OP/set recently but the OP misspelled it 'alwida' so search for that.#Oh Kay you never make any sense to anyone... I think it's funny she comes off as so put together when she doesn't make sense at all.#If she were even slightly more forthcoming about the thoughts in her head she'd just seem nuts. Like Atlas!#Anyway I'm liking the symbolism in the Ariel and Constantine thing even if every time I reread it I had to take a little break.#I guess in the discourse of modern/historical where Constantine is saying nobody is going to challenge him to a duel..#But Constantine bases his expectations of society on what he himself is carrying out.#Or perhaps he carries out what the worst of society expects of him.#And to be even more specific-- it means that Ariel's most pressing concern becomes not the people trying to murder him...#...but other Rainiers.#Anyway join the Yvescord we can talk about this all night.#txt #writing #important writing updates #wtwbingo #kay rainier

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syn0vial · 3 years

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The Official Star Wars Fact File: Zam Wesell

(Unofficial translation by me, syn0vial. Please forgive me for any mistakes, I've studied Spanish for some years but it's definitely not my first language!)

Zam Wesell was an exceptional figure that belonged to an equally exceptional species, the Clawdites. The bounty hunter was an unorthodox and extraordinary being who left a mark with her short life and career.

The Clawdites have always been oppressed and never been trusted. It is something that is accepted as natural in life. Their society arose due to a gene therapy that cured a sickness, but also created a new species, condemned to be exiled from the principle habitable zone of the planet Zolan. All Clawdites can change the color of their skin, but only a few are capable of altering the texture of it, and there are even fewer that can change its shape. Only a small number—very capable beings, dedicated and with great self-control—could take the form of another being for an indefinite period of time.

Shape-shifting results in great pain and discomfort for a Clawdite; they must use oils and ointments to stop their skin from becoming horribly cracked. Yet, in contrast to even the best of her species, Zam Wesell could not only change form with relative speed, but could maintain it while resting.

Combat Training

In Zolan society, those that deviated from the rigid secular norms were persecuted. Clawdite society was less restrictive, but even they showed apprehension about some of Zam Wesell's activities.

In the semi-anarchic society on the Clawdite-dominated continent of Sultur, where Zam was born and raised, the clans were governed by warriors known for their boastfulness. In general, the strongest prevailed, but even the boastful owed loyalty to their clan. Among them all, the best warriors of Zolan were the Mabari knights. They were part of a religious order that would not admit sinners among their novices. The religion of Zolan preached that the untruthful were the worst sinners of all. Despite this, Zam, when she was with them, successfully hid her true nature long enough to reach the third level of mastery in the Mabari martial arts, before being forced to flee Zolan.

Zam relocated to the corporate planet of Denon, where skills like hers were in great demand. The corporate security organizations always needed new employees and with Zam's shape-shifting ability, it didn't take much for her to ascend to the rank of sergeant. Nevertheless, this was only the beginning of her career. She calculated each step with utmost care; in this way, she quickly rose to become a very well-paid corporate bodyguard.

She was a self-proclaimed "progressive" and never forgot her planet and her people. She always sent huge sums of credits to Zolan, to radical Clawdite groups dedicated to the emancipation of their species; it is unknown whether she was truly invested in the situation of her species or if she only wished to provoke unrest.

Outlawed: Zam Wesell's journey before she became a bounty hunter was a winding one. She was denounced on her home-planet, Zolan, for being Clawdite and even more so, for her ability to shape-shift. After learning martial arts in a religious sect of warriors called Mabari, she abandoned her planet.

Clawdite Assassin

Since leaving Zolan for Denon, Zam Wesell had accepted work that provided huge profits and little excitement. Not much happened before she left her job as a bodyguard and sought a change of scenery.

Her experience in the risky world of industrial espionage on Denon had perfected Zam's deadly skills, while also allowing her to develop a web of contacts, financing, and gear to start her career in earnest. Finally, she could establish herself as a bounty hunter. She had adopted as her identity the appearance of a short, attractive female human, as a means of securing more work and hiding her true Clawdite face. With practice, although not without pain, she managed to maintain this appearance even while sleeping. She also adopted a uniform, a purple jumpsuit that could adapt to both her human and Clawdite forms, and that helped protect her skin.

Above the jumpsuit, she wore a flexible armored doublet and a protective skirt. The skirt's connected segments concealed an impact-absorbing system that offered protection against attacks from behind. Her helmet had its own light and incorporated a commlink under the veil that hid her face. In the heat of combat, her true Clawdite face could emerge, which the veil helped hide. Zam's belt had a series of compartments and essential devices for her profession, including the holster for her KYD-21 blaster. In front of her doublet, she carried a small respiratory device. These tubes inserted into Zam's body and allowed the device to function through her lungs if it was required by the atmosphere. The uniform came complete with a certain number of Mabari objects, among them an ancient cape clasp, an emblem on her helmet, and combat gloves. All these objects were ingraved with inscriptions from sacred Mabari texts.

We're bounty hunters, Zam, not heroes: The partnership of Zam and Jango Fett began long ago, long before she was contracted to kill Padme Amidala. The two bounty hunters respected each other. Zam had the honor of knowing the son of Jango, Boba Fett.

Elite Assassin

It was fated that the paths of Zam Wesell and Jango Fett would meet, but it would prove a very dangerous crossing.

Zam Wesell was considered one of the best bounty hunters of her generation, and she believed it. So it was logical that she would come to be known by Jango Fett, considered the number one in their profession.

One of their first encounters [Syn's notes: preceded five years by their true first encounter in the game Star Wars: Bounty Hunter] took place after Antonin Vigo, of the Black Sun, contracted Zam to kill Dreddon the Hutt. She took the form of a red-headed slave and successfully carried out the mission. Just as she was about to take her leave, Jango Fett appeared. Zam discovered that she was not going to be paid, nor was Jango, who had taken out Antonin at the behest of Dreddon.

Zam and Jango both knew of each other's reputations. The mutual respect that they had and their simiar ethics led them to allow one another to go on their way. However, the two would meet again shortly afterwards when a dug named Fernooda contracted Zam.

We've Got To Stop Meeting Like This: Zam and Jango were contracted to recover an ancient artifact. She let him do all the hard work; then ambushed him and made off with the idol.

Jango, you're always complaining about my shapeshifting: The mutant power of a Clawdite was very useful in her work and elongating her arm to grab hold of the idol that both she and Jango Fett were searching for. [Syn's notes: The presentation of this information is a little misleading. Zam catching the idol like this occurred well after this job for Fernooda, when both Zam and Jango were working together to keep Fernooda's boss from using it in a terrorist attack.]

I know that there's a man under that mask: Zam managed to get closer than anybody to the mysterious Jango Fett, with the exception of his son Boba. Even so, she knew that a relationship between them would affect her work, and thus decided not to push it further.

It was an awkward situation, since Fernooda had assigned the job to Jango, but had decided to ensure its success by also contracting the Clawdite. The aforementioned mission involved recovering an idol that had been in the possession of Fernooda's boss. Zam, who knew that Jango had also been contracted, let her rival do the dirty work before springing an ambush. This time, she insisted on seeing the face of the man under the mask. She was so transfixed on him, that she didn't realize there was an enormous insect, the guardian of the idol, about to attack her.

Without knowing why, Jango came to Zam's rescue and, recognizing that she was in his debt, she allowed him to leave with Fernooda's idol. Thus began the strange and exceptional relationship, even friendship, between Jango Fett and Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: As mentioned earlier, their association truly began with the events of Star Wars: Bounty Hunter, but perhaps this is the point things got a little more personal between them.]

Partners: Without a doubt, Zam and Jango worked well as partners. The question was whether they were willing to let their affection become more important than their work.

Mutual Empathy

Although it was nearly inevitable that Zam Wesell and Jango Fett should encounter one another again, the first reunion that occurred between the two bounty hunters did not go as either had expected.

At first glance, the mission seemed simple. It involved an assignment that Vigo Antonin, of Black Sun, had given to Zam Wesell, and the contracts from this organization were always lucrative. Certainly, the jobs offered to bounty hunters of Zam Wesell's level were never easy.

The target was Dreddon the Hutt. It was never a good idea to threaten Black Sun business and Vigo Antonin wanted to make an example of him. Zam used all the resources at her disposal to investigate and infiltrate Dreddon's organization. Her Clawdite powers allowed her to adopt the form of a human dancer that appealed to the Hutt. She needed all her concentration to maintain this form during a prolonged period, but Zam was very good at what she did. The disguise completely fooled Dreddon. Hutts are very difficult to kill.

Poisons and blasters could not guarantee that Dreddon wouldn't have time to call for his guards, so, to end his life, Zam restrained herself to placing a microbomb hidden in one of Dreddon's amphibian snacks when he was about to enjoy a private performance from his favorite dancer. The result was somewhat chaotic, but decisive.

A Private Affair

Just when she was about to leave, Zam heard someone approach. She grabbed her blaster and hid, waiting to see who could be intruding on her mission. She was almost happy to see Jango Fett, the most infamous bounty hunter in the galaxy, next to the corpse of his client.

Zam had successfully completed her mission and would soon receive a rich reward for her troubles. What's more, she could make fun of Jango Fett for the murder of his client. She had him at her mercy, pointing at him with her blaster, knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

Unfortunately, Zam's good humor soon went up in smoke. Jango had returned from completing a contract for Dreddon: killing Vigo Antonin! Thus, neither Zam nor Jango would be paid. Fett took the first opportunity to draw his blaster and with that both bounty hunters were in the same bind.

Zam was the first to lower her blaster, with her trademark style. With a twirl and a grin, she pointed out that the problem was that neither of them wanted to make the first move. She then flounced off, leaving Jango alone with his thoughts.

It's a weird rock: The artifact that Fett and Wesell had to recover was an idol that, as they would discover, bestowed mysterious powers upon its owner. [Syn's notes: ...If "mysterious powers" means "ownership of extremely explosive chunk of rock," then yes, that is correct.]

A New Contract

However, Zam needed work. The matter with Dreddon had left her without anything to show for it. A dug named Fernooda offered a contract shortly after she returned to her base of operations, but he warned her that he had already contracted another bounty hunter for the job in question: Jango Fett.

Zam readily accepted the job, since it seemed simple. Recovering a little statue from the natives of the jungle planet Seylott that had been stolen from Fernooda's boss. She had already decided to let Jango do the dirty work and ambush him at the temple's exit.

Jango's Revenge

It seemed that this time, Zam Wesell had won. She even managed to get Jango to remove his Mandalorian helmet. The scarred face she saw was handsome, if a bit gloomy. Then, a huge carnivorous insect attacked Zam from behind. The other bounty hunter ignored Zam's cries for help, taking the statue and running.

My client offered 50,000 Republic credits: The paths of Wesell and Fett crossed once again when the dug Fernooda contracted them to recover an object that the natives of Seylott had stolen from his boss. Immediately, the instinctive sense of rivalry returned between the two bounty hunters.

Heroes of Coruscant

Zam thought that she was doomed, Jango Fett had taken off, leaving her to be devoured by the enormous monster on Seylott.

While fighting to escape, Zam was surprised to see Jango return. He told her to take out all the explosives that she had on her and prepare to detonate them. Zam didn't have much option but to trust him, although she wasn't sure that he wouldn't get both of them killed. Fortunately, Fett's jetpack got them out of trouble. Zam picked up Jango's helmet from amidst the smoke and the dust left from the creature's destruction, gave it to him, and allowed him to take Fernooda's idol; afterwards, she turned and left, smiling as she told Jango to take care until next time. There would be a next time, Zam assured her rival, although this didn't seem to bother Fett.

However, Wesell wasn't satisfied. She had heard rumors here and there, and soon learned the truth about her mission on Seylott. The idol had been under the power of the Force-sensitive natives. The Annoo-Dat general Ashaar Khorda wanted the idol to use as a weapon capable of generating explosions that could destroy an entire planet. Even worse, Khorda's target was Coruscant.

Zam traveled quickly to Kamino, where she met with Jango and, to her surprise, with his young son Boba. She believed that Boba's mother had been killed and Jango said nothing to the contrary. Instead, he listened impatiently to Zam's story about the idol. Zam ended by saying that, since she and Jango had found the weapon, they owed it to the people of Coruscant to stop Khorda's plan.

Under the Mask: Zam Wesell was one of the few people who could elicit affection from the harsh and implacable Jango Fett

A Matter of Conscience

Jango wasn't interested, since he wouldn't be paid for the work and his son needed him on Kamino, but Zam convinced him that there were countless children that needed him on Coruscant. Jango Fett, an orphan rescued by strangers, softened his position and finally accepted his first time working together with Zam Wesell. [Syn's notes: Again, second time since Star Wars: Bounty Hunter.]

Zam had seen Khorda's right-hand man, the dug Fernooda. Thus, she took on his appearance in order to discover Khorda's and his lackeys' plans. They found out that Fernooda planned to place the idol in one of the planet's central reactors, where the explosion would cause a chain reaction that would destroy the planet completely.

Jango and Zam, along with a solitary Jedi, found the mad killer, after following the clues that he and his gang had left. Together, the three proceeded to defeat the gang and recover the idol. The Jedi could absorb the Force of the idol and leave it without power once more; although at the cost of his life.

Safe Return: Zam Wesell worked together with Jango Fett to seize a powerful Force artifact and return it to its owners. She managed to convince Jango to accept the mission.

Zam and Jango took the idol back to Seylott, earning them the gratitude of the natives. They were requested not to return ever again, something that the bounty hunters had no intention of doing. Upon returning to Kamino, Zam was not fooled by Jango's complaints of not being paid, since she knew that, deep down, he knew that returning the idol had been the right thing to do. It was the same impulse that had saved her on Seylott. She said goodbye to Jango with a kiss on his scarred cheek, so he wouldn't feel it had all been for nothing. It seemed that Zam had won again.

Altruistic Mission: Zam's desire to prevent the deaths of millions of people in a terrorist attack shows that she had a certain sense of conscience.

The Final Mission

Jango Fett made an atypical decision: subcontract Zam for the most dangerous assignment.

Jango wanted to spend more time with his son Boba. The boy's education was very important to him. However, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many offers of work. He accepted most of them and the rest he passed on to Zam Wesell. She worked alone most of the time, although they worked together occasionally, to the benefit of both of them.

Assassination Contract

A man that Jango knew as Tyranus, the same that had given him work with the Kaminoans, requested that he accept a special mission. It involved the killing of a high-order politician who had interfered in Tyranus's business. The pay was very good and Jango was happy to be able to pass it on to Zam Wesell. It seemed like a simple job.

The target was a senator dedicated to public life, something that would make her an easy target for an intelligent assassin. However, the target was also a queen of Naboo, friend of the Jedi and a central figure to the supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Direct Hit: Ostensibly, Zam Wesell had killed the senator Padme Amidala with a bomb on her ship, but the victim ended up being a decoy, making it necessary to take another approach.

Reckless Driving: Zam realized that she was being pursued by Jedi. Her skill at the wheel of a speeder allowed her to traverse the busiest districts of Coruscant, but her pursuers wouldn't give up the chase.

To Kill a Senator

Zam chose the occasion carefully.The target was to return to Coruscant for a crucial vote, and her landing would be predictable enough. Zam used her capacity for shapeshifting to discover the time and place of Senator Padme Amidala's return.

With her usual cunning, Zam managed to place a bomb on the target's landing platform and then left to observe from the heights of a building a kilometer away. From there, she waited for the moment of truth. Amidala's silvery ship landed, flanked by fighters. The senator came down from the ramp and the moment her foot stepped onto the platform, Wesell detonated the explosive. There were few survivors and the news was full of stories and images of Zam's success.

Double Action

Zam Wesell believed she had completed the mission, but her satisfaction was short-lived. Amidala was apparently alive in the rotunda of the Senate at the end of the day, a very irritating outcome. The woman killed on the landing platform was a double. Fett was angry, along with his client. There could be no more mistakes.

Fett spoke with Zam and gave her a glass tube with two kouhuns inside. He cautioned her that they were extremely venomous, since she wasn't an amateur.

The bounty hunters counted on an ASN-121 droid, programmed with the location of Amidala's quarters, to deposit the deadly cargo. Then, Zam sat and waited for the return of the robot.

It was emiting an alert signal. Zam saw through her scope a Jedi holding onto the droid. Not even the droid's destruction could shake the Jedi, and soon she was being pursued through all of Coruscant, with her skills as a pilot put to the test.

Just when she thought she had lost them, one of the Jedi jumped onto her speeder. In the subsequent skirmish, her vehicle was damaged and she was forced to land. She sought refuge in a bar with the Jedi close behind.

Death of a Hunter

Seeing one of the Jedi at the bar, Zam approached as close as she dared, knowing that he could deflect a blaster bolt if warned in time. Unfortunately, the Jedi was much more astute, igniting his lightsaber with a twirl and severing Zam's hand that held her blaster. The pair of Jedi dragged Wesell's wounded body into an alley to interrogate her.

Ground Chase: Zam, without her speeder which had been damaged, had to flee on foot. She got into a bar, where she intended to ambush her pursuers, but Obi-Wan Kenobi attacked her with his lightsaber before she could fire; Wesell was badly injured.

One of them, the younger one, pressed Zam to reveal the name of her client. At first, she resisted, but then, after the Jedi spoke again, began to tell her captors what she knew.

The poison dart that Jango shot ended Zam's life before she could speak a word. She died quickly from the venom's deadly effects; she didn't suffer. This was the last thing that Fett could do for a friend.

#zam wesell #jango fett #boba fett #whew! this took a while :`D #please let me know if any of my translation needs to be corrected; i'm definitely an amateur when it comes to translating!#star wars fact file #star wars fact file 71 #the official star wars fact files

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samdotdocx · 3 years

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A very long-winded essay about why I love Night in the Woods and The Ramayana makes me Big Mad ft. Lets Talk About Mental Illness™

So I was in this class called 'The Ecology of Language". Excellent class, 10/10 would recommend - and especially relevant in the Indian context in particular, but that's a topic for another day.

One of the things we talked about was the concept of 'relatibality' in media, which, I'm sure we can all agree is a large component of contemporary character or story-line development. Considering the context of modern readers, what that sometimes ends up looking like (in our society that is built on constantly being told we are lacking, and the subsequent need to satisfy manufactured desires), is some wonderfully nuanced characters in stories stories that are three-dimensional, well rounded, and well developed and written. It's pretty great. And sometimes, what that means is that we have excellent characters that don't conform to the standard 'protagonist' stereotype. They might not even be 'good' (this is NOT a villain-apologist post). In fact, they might be complete idiots. They might be the people in stories who make all the wrong choices.

One such relatable character is Mae, and it's because she's an unmitigated train-wreck.

Anyone who knows the game probably knows what I'm talking about when I say the illustration style and character designs are gorgeous. Anyone who's ever dissociated probably knows what I'm talking about when I say that illustration style and character design were excellently used to create the sort of subliminal, surreal state of Mae's mind. And as you play the game, you see how that state of mind plays with the other characters, and - spoiler - it isn't great.

This is the first of the relatable aspects of Mae’s character; there are people around her who love her and are worried about her, but at the same time, are angry and irritated about her behaviour. At what point does it become too much to ask of those around you to forgive all your continuous and repetitive mistakes? Even if you have a good reason for it, mental illness is not an excuse for being exploitative, even if it is unintentional. Mae is not trying to hurt the people around her, but she constantly needs emotional labour from them – it’s exhausting, and people’s patience is going to run out eventually, as is their right.

Another aspect of this behaviour is the lack of reciprocity, an example of this being when Bea’s mother died of cancer – and Mae didn’t even notice.

There are several instances of Mae’s thoughtless behaviour throughout the game; she gets completely wasted and makes a scene at the party, gets jealous of of Greg and Angus because they’re leaving the town without her, and ends up destroying the radiator Bea was supposed to fix, getting her in trouble.

The thing is though, that Mae is given the opportunity to fix her mistakes.

A large part of relatability is the want so see yourself in a character. Mae is relatable to me because there are several circumstances and events in our lives that match up, but more than that; the game is an interactive visualization of her healing process. Her nine steps, if you will. She is given a second chance – and that chance is hard won, particularly in the context of the game.

Mae talks about feeling like she’s falling behind, of knowing that she is, in a way, wasting an opportunity that was a privilege in the first place, especially considering her family’s financial situation – but at the same time, being literally unable to help herself. And the aspects of the gameplay that hint at the supernatural elements of the story possibly being a figment of Mae’s imagination – well. All us depressed losers know what it's like to not be able to trust your own judgement and point of view. She talks about why she dropped out of college, and her description of the dissociation, and the mental and emotional deadening that it causes is spot on and so well represented.

It underscores the point that the logical brain knows that mental illness is an illness like any other – but the emotional brain doesn’t care.

The game does a brilliant job of laying bare the realities of middle class life, and makes painfully clear the fact that, at that level, it doesn’t matter how difficult things are for you. The world isn’t going to wait for you to get back on your feet.

Mae’s mental state and the limitations it imposes on her cultivates a state of extreme frustration. Again, relatable. It’s an understated aspect of illness of any kind; the anger at yourself, and how that anger carries over into a lot of things in your day to day life. After a point, it becomes a habit. Mae does this too; she's belligerent, and instigative, and unrepentant of consequences, because anger blinds you.

It's not how things will always be. I have the privilege of hindsight, so I can say that with authority. But, this isn’t the kind of thing that ever fully leaves you, either. If you break a kneecap, it’s going to bother you for the rest of your life, and similarly, mental illness has a ‘no return, no refund’ policy. So you grow up, and you try to adapt those habits and impulses into a more positive context. Recycling, right? Maybe you set your sights on things that actually deserve your anger, and you go from there. You find people who, for their own reasons, perhaps or perhaps not related to your own, are angry.

And you don’t understand the people who are not.

A large part of the anger and frustration surrounding mental illness is due to the stigma surrounding it. It’s frustrating to be so powerless and dependent, but this is exacerbated by the attitude of ‘it can’t be that bad’, which makes it so difficult to reach out, to be able to say, ‘I need a break’ – and actually get one. This is an attitude that carries over to a lot of other issues as well, and the worst part is – we are surrounded by people who are okay with it, who believe in and support that mentality.

The myth of Sita, for example. She is a strong female figure in Indian mythology, who overcomes her circumstances to live a ‘good’ life, and for all intents and purposes, is a hell of a role model.

But that’s the thing; her life wasn’t good, was it? She was supposed be a goddess reincarnated, she should have been powerful, and respected, but instead she is reduced to ‘wife’ – and everyone today is fine with it.

I respect her immensely for the choices she made; marrying for love was her choice, going into exile with her husband was her choice. She was the paragon of virtue, of 'wifeliness', of kindness – she chose her husband over everyone and everything else, including herself, as was expected of her. But yet – she couldn't win his trust or respect. It should not even have needed to be won.

It’s commendable the way she takes it all in stride, but why did she? She was kidnapped and held captive for years, entirely against her will, and her husband's response to that is to force her to walk through fire to prove her ‘purity’ – and she does it. And she stays with him after, and I cannot understand the depths of her patience and forgiveness, because I would have been livid, and I want her to be so too. I’m furious for her, because Ram was not just her husband, he was also the king, and his later verdict to exile her, alone, while heavily pregnant, his readiness to condemn her based on speculation and public sentiment, was not just a verdict against her, it was against every woman in his kingdom who had ever been victimised.

Sita became a martyr to the modern feminist movement – if she could not be angry on her own behalf, we will do it for her. But at the same time, she is still relatable, because we are held to a slightly lesser degree of the same expectations. There are always going to be aspects of things that you relate to. ‘Big Mood’ culture is a strong indicator of the human ability to empathise, especially with characters that you like, or respect.

Sita’s world, I imagine, was run by the expectations her society and community had of her, and maybe she didn’t even have the liberty to be angry. Who is responsible for portraying her in passive acceptance of her fate? Is that representation reliable? Would the story have been different had it been written by a woman?

I can't remember a time when I was not angry, especially about things like this. I am always ready to fight, and I think the same goes for so many other people today, sometimes to our detriment. I cannot imagine a world where that was not at the very least an option. Not necessarily the best option, - but Sita’s world was very different to ours. Even with centuries between us, we’ve just gotten over angry and depressed women being labelled as ‘hysterical’ and subsequently being locked away. What is it like, to have to be calm and careful in response to being treated like this? This care in response may not be an overt requirement anymore – though the fact remains that society will not take you seriously if you become hysterical - but shouldn't you, at the very least, be able to rely on the support of other people in the same boat?

That is the main difference in these stories, and another main point of relatability to me; Mae, like myself, had a support system. Sita did not. Mae was selfish and demanding in so many ways, and required a lot of time and patience and healing before she was able to give back, but she got there eventually because she was able to put herself first. She fought for herself, and when she couldn’t, she had other people to fight for her. Night in the Woods represents the intersection of oppressed minorities and community with their portrayal of Mae, Greg, and Angus in particular, and the importance of community support – and, the difference between geographical community, and communities formed through camaraderie and actual unity. And so does the Ramayana - except, where was Sita’s community? Where were her sisters, or her parents, when she was abandoned in the woods, and later when she committed suicide? We are well aware, in the modern day, of the state of mind that causes people to kill themselves, and yet that is a part of the story that we never talk about. Where were her people then?

What would have happened if she had been more like Mae, and put herself first instead of bleeding herself dry for people who never respected her, and would never do the same for her?

People relate to personalities. They relate to choices, and circumstances, and habits, and it is neither a good nor a bad thing, to be relatable or not. Sita will be highly relatable to people who, like her, were governed by their circumstances, and were screwed over despite their best efforts. People who felt they couldn’t, or shouldn’t exercise their power and agency. Sita’s death was at odds with her strong personality, and so was her deference to her fate on many occasions, but there are a lot of people out there who will relate to the feeling of simply wanting things to be over. Mae on the other hand; she’s a steamroller, and she doesn’t stop. There’s a reason her character is a cat, and jokingly referred to as feral in the game. She is persistent, she is growing.

[1] In Defence of Kaikeyi and Draupadi: a Note – by Fritz Blackwellhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/23334398?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents [2] https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/10/emergency-room-wait-times-sexism/410515/

#ramayana discourse #night in the woods #sita #tw suicice #tw mental illness #mae borowski #spam-by-sam

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

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Title: nothing to mourn or miss Ship: Poker pair Summary: The only thing connecting little Cornelia Walker to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. A year after his Master's letter had been sent to the Black Order, Allen Walker arrived at their Headquarters, carrying a newborn on his back. AN: I just want trans Allen fanfics. Let’s see where this fanfic will go!

Lavi’s greatest gift had always been his observation skills. Growing up on the streets (in a different city, under another name), he’d had to be clever and aware to ensure he wouldn’t starve to death or be killed. Bookman, of course, had taken the ability to a whole new level, ensuring that Lavi wouldn’t miss even a single detail. Lavi was pretty sure that if there was a way to keep from blinking for the rest of his life, Bookman would force him to learn that as well.

Regardless, his skill was why he knew Krory had to be in the next train wagon. It was the last possible option, given that the vampiric Exorcist hadn’t been in any of the others. The situation, once they found him, was pretty easy to break down. He’d gotten cheated out of his clothes and money by three traveling vagabonds and a sickly-looking child; tuberculosis if Lavi were to guess. They looked rough as if the gentleness was seldom shown to them. From their hands and posture, Lavi deduced they worked in the mines or a similar taxing job.

That was as far as Lavi got with his observation before another one took him by surprise.

“Allen!” the boy shouted and promptly threw himself at said young man.

Here was the thing about Allen Walker: He was lithe in build, small, but he knew how to present himself. Lavi looked at him and knew what he kept hidden, yet it was not a lie because everything about Allen Walker screamed that he was a young man. He’d never said a word about whether he’d learned from his deceased father or his Master, but Allen knew how to navigate society, which social cues to react to or ignore.

Allen often kept people at a distance to keep up appearances and live his life as he wanted. Lavi, personally, was a massive fan of invading people’s personal space. He’d learned to do so early for various reasons, and with time passing, Allen started to allow Lavi in his bubble. But always, he was careful, hesitating, bracing himself for interaction.

And yet, somehow, this protection was disregarded without a second thought. Allen wasn’t taken aback by the boy jumping him but reacted on instinct and caught the boy. Were the child smaller, Lavi would think it was because of Cornelia, but no, the boy was much older than Allen’s daughter.

And here it was, the second clue:

“Eeez!” Allen said. “What are you doing here?”

“Traveling to a new job!” Eeez replied in rapid-fire Portuguese that, had Lavi not spent a year in the country, he wouldn’t have been able to understand a word. “You’re pretty far from your usual roads,” Allen replied only and set the boy down again. “But I see, your cheating habits haven’t changed at all.”

“You’ve always been the worst cheat,” the man towards the right replied, causing the one on the outmost left to laugh in agreement.

The two seemed good-natured if a little tired. They were comfortable around Allen, studied him briefly as if to check he was doing well, eating enough or so. Anyone who knew Allen well enough to greet him so heartedly had to be aware of his metabolism and with this group struggling for money, it was no surprise they worried about food.

But it wasn’t quite the two men or the boy that drew Lavi’s attention.

No, it was the man in the middle.

Thick glasses obscured his eyes, but his hair was curly and dark, the kind that Lavi knew from experience was fun to run your hand through.

How well exactly did Allen Walker know this man and how much did he care to keep such large secrets?

“Are you going to join us, menino?” the man asked. “Your friend has lost a few things, I believe.”

Allen grinned triumphantly, but his hand twitched all the same, betraying his lie. He was nervous, shaken by this confrontation, and were he anyone else, words about little princesses in high towers, bright gray eyes looking up from the Branch Chief’s lap, and bets on milestones would soon spill out of his mouth.

“Allen,” Krory finally spoke up, still sniffling. “Do you know these men?”

“Yes,” Allen replied, shaking himself from stupor. “We traveled together for a while after Master Cross had dumped me. They’re friends.”

Just friends? Lavi wondered. From the looks of it, he was not the only one. The boy, Eeze, narrowed his eyes, glancing between Tyki and Allen. Whatever they had, it hadn’t been that casual. The result was currently crawling around HQ, after all.

“This is Momo, Crack, and Glasses in the middle—”

“You wound me.”

“Is Tyki Mikk.”

Tyki was not a name whose origin Lavi could place easily. He’d assumed that Cornelia had been picked because it was a fairly common British name and sounded well with the small family’s last name.

Cornelia Walker wasn’t even a year old yet, and thus Lavi quietly found himself doing the math. Cross’s letter had announced only Allen’s arrival and been dated about a year before Allen had actually managed to arrive at the Order. He knew that Lenalee thought Allen had been sent to the Order because of Cornelia, so she’d be safe while Allen killed Akuma.

Never mind that nobody expected Cross to be a capable guardian for a newborn. People had been fascinated enough with the fact he’d managed to raise a teenager.

The only thing connecting little Cornelia to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. Otherwise, she was entirely Allen’s baby, from the pale complexion to the eyes and… Before meeting this Tyki, Lavi had assumed that she had Allen’s nose, but it actually resembled Tyki’s more closely. Still following through with his conclusions, Lavi pretended to be shocked at Allen’s gambling skills, the way he won back Krory’s clothes and dignity before stripping his old friends of theirs.

“Royal Straight Flush,” Allen announced once more with a smile as the others tossed their cards, not at all angry, more amused.

“They’re used to this,” Eeez said, this time in English. It was accentuated but still pretty good. Lavi could hear the same kind of pitter-patter pronunciation Allen sometimes fell back on when he was careless or exhausted. He must have taught the boy how to speak the language. How curious, it spoke for longer exposure to Allen. This definitely added to Lavi’s growing suspicion that Allen hadn’t just taken the long way round to the Order.

As did the fond glances Allen couldn’t keep off his face.

He could have stayed with this group. They were obviously aware of Allen’s status, but they seemed to have no trouble with it. Without needing to pay off his Master’s debt, Allen could earn enough to settle down somewhere. If they stayed near a mining town, the group wouldn’t even have to break up or work in a different branch.

There’d be no little niece for Komui to fuss over or dress up in her father’s absence. The Order would have remained entirely unaware of Allen Walker’s presence until someday along the way, somebody would dig out the one letter Cross had hurriedly written. And by then, they’d have assumed that Allen Walker had died on his way to the Order. Despite the tension of Allen’s shoulder, he was obviously at ease with this group, was at home, whereas he still hadn’t settled completely at the Order.

He could have abandoned the Akuma for them, this odd broken little family, but he hadn’t. The Destroyer of Time had marched on, wrapped his new gift up in cuddly blankets and climbed up a mountain.

Perhaps Lavi should tell him of the Order’s gruesome history, its horrible present. Would the boy have chosen to take his daughter there if he knew what lingered behind the black walls? Lavi had no doubt that if someone else sat in Komui’s office, little Cornelia would be tested weekly for resonance with an Innocence piece given that her father was an Accommodator. Then again, that doll that acted as her babysitter had taken a liking to her and Lavi doubted it was just because of the sentience it possessed.

The train ride passed in relative peace despite the gambling with the miners talking of their travels and Allen returning with stories of his own, carefully modified to leave out any signs of Akuma or his daughter.

He had no intention of telling them.

Lavi’s job was to record history, not to teach it.

He didn’t have to tell them either. Most likely, this encounter would remain a footnote in Allen Walker’s biography.

The odd group had to leave the train before them, and their goodbyes were sweet and kind, warmer and lingering, a farewell that nobody wanted. Eeez hugged Allen once more and Momo and Crack both gave Allen a nudge and tousled his hair fondly.

When it came to Tyki, Lavi paid attention. Accommodator yet or not, someday Cornelia’s history might become relevant, and they’d need all the details.

“Take good care of yourself, menino,” Tyki said, making no move to embrace Allen, touch him in any way. How curious that he’d chosen distance when he so obviously wanted to reach for the opposite. Lavi had seen a hundred stories like this already, how bitter love like this must be.

At moments like this, Lavi was glad that he was forever exempt from such heartbreak.

“I’m not the one always on the road, running off doing odd jobs,” Allen countered with a soft smile, a joke that failed to hide any of the pain. “Take care of yourself as well.”

The group left the train, and it was only as the machine was already departing that Tyki tossed something at Allen, the same playing cards they’d used earlier. Lavi watched quietly as Allen looked through the cards until melancholy turned his lips upwards.

“Hearts this time,” Allen muttered under his breath, likely not meant to be picked up by Lavi’s ears.

He packed the cards into the pocket of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his body as if to keep out the imaginary cold. When Allen looked up, his eyes fixed on Lavi, he seemed torn between determination and desperation.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Allen said, or perhaps ordered. “Please.”

So it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Lavi had uncovered his little secret.

Checking that Krory was still out of earshot, busy carrying their luggage to this empty compartment, Lavi chose to engage. “Why not tell him?”

Allen shrugged, then smiled just a bit pained. “His world is different from ours. They don’t have much cash, so I wouldn’t dump a child on them, and it would be careless to ask Tyki, and the others by extension, to step into the nightmare that is our reality. It’s better this way.”

Lavi hummed in agreement, thinking on the report he’d make to Bookman. Allen Walker, despite his cheerful optimism, could be quite realistic, almost painfully so.

They didn’t tell the families of their Finders about the deceased either.

Ignorance, wounding as it might be, left you with nothing to mourn or miss.

(Later, bound to a chair, the Fourth Apostle screaming at him, Lavi would remember his past assessment and laugh at his naivete.)

#allen walker #tyki mikk #poker pair #dgm #lavi #d gray man #fanfic

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coveredinbees · 3 years

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I started writing another kathony thing. And it's... well... it's smutty as all hell, I'm not going to lie. It's an AU, and includes references to sex work in the regency period, male impotence, and a few creative swear words that would make your mother cry.

So I'm going to post a little teaser for my new fic under the cut, to spare those of you who are not particularly interested in that sort of thing.

"Duels and Duality"

Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was used to frequenting bawdy houses. But, after a duelling injury leaves him feeling a little insecure in the bedroom, he decides to try his hand - and other parts - at Covent Garden's most exclusive establishment. It all appears to be for nought when he finds none of the ladies can peak his interest. Until he sees one exotic beauty from across the room...

Kate Sharma is not a lady of the night. She is, in fact, a destitute war widow and nurse struggling to make an honest living after the end of the Napoleonic War. But one evening, as she's tending to a broken wrist of Covent Garden's leading courtesan, she finds herself being propositioned by a handsome stranger. She can't deny the attraction, and she might even have been tempted to go with him, if he hadn't started waving a wad of money in front her face. Instead, however, she offers to do something else - to fix his lame leg, and rehabilitate him back into polite society.

Could this be the start of a beautiful friendship?"

Teaser under the cut:

For the second time that evening, it started to snow. This did not bode well for Anthony Bridgerton. As he had not been able to navigate his carriage through the narrow roads of Covent Garden, Anthony had to satisfy himself with limping along the iced-over cobbled streets until he found the place he was looking for. It was a less-than-ideal situation. There was something about the chill in the air that made the muscles around his old injury ache, and more than once he felt his right leg give way underneath him. If it hadn’t been for his walking stick, he would have keeled over entirely. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to find the right place. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket with numbed fingers, checking the address there against the townhouse in front of him. Hind Close. Yes, this was definitely the place. Unfamiliar as he was with this part of town, it had taken him longer than usual to find where he was going, and it was only the cold bite of the January wind that meant he could make his slow journey without being accosted by anyone. This part of town was normally rife with pickpockets and drunkards, but unlike Anthony, any man, woman or child with a lick of sense was sitting indoors right now, huddling around a roaring fire. He sighed, dragging his lame leg up the steps of the townhouse. There were times in life when you didn’t realise you had done something stupid until it was too late. And then there were times when you were fully aware that you were in the middle of doing something stupid, but you carried on doing it any way. Even as he lifted the knocker on the nondescript townhouse, he realised that today fell into the latter category.

Knocking on the the door, he waited for a moment for someone to open it. Instead, the door remained firmly shut, and thick, cockney voice emanated from somewhere within.

“Wot’s the password?” The password? Damn. Benedict had told him this. Hang on. “Elysium.” He said. There was a moment of silence, and for one horrible moment Anthony thought they might turn him away. He desperately needed to rest his leg, and he wasn’t sure he could make it back through the winding streets of Covent Garden without assistance. But then there was a metallic thunk – the familiar sound of an iron deadbolt being pulled back, and then the door was opened. Anthony was met with a blast of warm air and the sweet scent of rose and lavender water wafting from inside. The man standing at the door was a wall of a man, with brutishly thick arms and a cauliflower ear. He wasn’t the sort of man Anthony had seen before, not even at Gentleman Jackson‘s boxing ring. This man, with his scarred face and non-too-inviting sneer, he was not like anyone Anthony had ever met before. Regardless, the man stepped aside and waited patiently while Anthony dragged himself through the door. Anthony didn’t wait to be invited. He collapsed onto a chair by the door, not even caring that he was leaving a trail of muddied snow behind him. As the doorman closed the front door behind him, he regarded Anthony with little interest. “Y’new then?” “Pardon?” “I said, are yer new 'ere, or what? I ain’t seen you round ‘ere before.”

No, Anthony supposed, he wouldn’t have. This was his first time at such an establishment.

“Yes. I suppose you could say I’m ‘new’.” The man grunted. “I’ll get Madame Charlotte then. She’ll sort yer out.” “Much obliged.” Quite against his will, Anthony felt his head fall back against the wall. He closed his eyes. God, his leg was throbbing. He already knew that this was a mistake, but there was quite literally no turning back now. At least, not until he’d had a chance to rest his leg and hopefully a dram or two for the pain. He opened his eyes lazily, watching as the great, hulking doorman disappeared behind a red curtain, presumably to find Madame Charlotte.

Anthony sighed. He was miles from home, and his footman had parked the carriage somewhere in the more respectable area of town. Even after he rested his leg, he would have a devil of a time walking back – especially if this snow kept up. But then, he supposed, wasn’t that the whole idea? In order for his plan to work, he had to go to a place where he wouldn’t be recognised. To be clear, despite Anthony’s rakish reputation he had never actually visited a bawdy house before. Or rather, perhaps he should say that he had never engaged the services of une femme galante before. All of Anthony’s previous dalliances – of which there had been many – had been with either divorced women or women of the stage. And yes, he’d kept a mistress or two in his time. And yes, he had spent more than his fair share of money on trinkets. But that was different. Those were gifts. There was something about the transactional nature of bawdy houses that didn’t really sit well with him. To Anthony, the whole point of pleasuring a woman was to, well… pleasure a woman. It had to be reciprocal, otherwise he didn’t see the fucking point.

Paying a woman to bed with you, well. It was a bit embarrassing really, wasn’t it?

And honestly, if Anthony had his way he certainly wouldn’t be sitting in a Bawdy House right now, if he had any other option. Anthony grimaced, rubbing his face with an ice-cold hand. So what was he doing here now?

Of course, he already knew the answer. He was here, because he was desperate.

You see, Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was prone to misjudgement; but when he did misjudge something he did so spectacularly and with long-lasting effect. It was a misjudgement that led him to challenging Lord Carnarvon to a duel some three years previous after a particularly heavy night of drinking, and it was a misjudgement that led to him getting shot in the leg. If it wasn’t for his brother’s quick thinking, and for the skill of a particularly renowned surgeon, he most certainly would have died. Hell, he thought, sitting up in the chair and stretching his pained leg out in front of him, it was a damned miracle that he’d got to keep his leg at all. But as it was, there was a large, tennis-ball shaped indentation where his thigh muscle used to be, and it was visible even through the thick fabric of his britches. The dead tissue of his leg had been purposefully removed in a grotesquely painful procedure that the surgeon had called ‘debridement’. Anthony, feverishly out of his mind the entire time, remembered little of event except that it had involved applying maggots to the infected area. Maggots. Those damned maggots. He saw them in his dreams, even now.

So apart from being in near permanent pain all the time, Anthony was now grotesquely misshapen. His former lovers couldn’t even bear to look at him, let alone take him into their beds. And, Anthony thought, even if he could somehow persuade some poor, desperate woman into seduction, he was in near permanent agony. Although his wound had long since healed over, the muscles spasmed like the devil himself was twisting a knife in his leg, and the sorry fact of the matter was, (and in many ways, this was the worst part)…

The sorry fact of the matter was that the famous Viscount Bridgerton, (the society papers’ darling and the once the ton’s most sought-after bachelor), was now a disfigured monster that could go weeks at a time without even getting a fucking erection.

It was painful. No, it was more than painful – it was humiliating. He’d once been famous for his appetites, and sought-after for his skills as a lover. Now here he was in his late twenties, looking down at his stubbornly non-tumescent cock and wondering if the bullet wound hadn’t somehow nicked a muscle or a nerve or something that was integral to the most valuable part of his anatomy. For any man, not being able to get a cockstand would be bad enough, but for a man with a title – a Viscount no less, who regardless of his injury, was still somehow expected to marry, produce an heir and carry on the family name – why, it was the end of the world.

If his cock couldn’t work, well – he might as well sign the viscountcy over to Benedict right now.

Benedict had been none-too-pleased with that particular suggestion. Anthony knew his brother and had no interest in a title that had been earmarked for Anthony all his life, but he never appreciated how much of an aversion the man had to being the Viscount until he floated the idea past him one day. He’d never seen a man turn quite so pale. And so, without going into too much detail, Anthony had relayed to his brother the distressing news that his injury was preventing him from, ahem, partaking in his preferred activities, and somehow Benedict had managed to produce a copy of Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies with surprising alacrity.

So that was why he was here. Suddenly, he had seen the appeal of the transactional nature of bawdy houses. Perhaps if he could pay a woman enough, she would be willing to overlook his deformity. And it wasn’t like he was looking to fuck anyone – in fact, he didn’t rightly see how he could, the pain being the way it was - but he was sure that given the right woman, she could take him in hand, or maybe in her mouth, and try to breathe life back into his stubbornly flaccid cock. If he could get the damn thing working again, then at least that would be a step in the right direction.

So here he was. Hind Close. Which, according to Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies, housed the most exclusive and high-price cyprian beauties that money could buy. He had chosen this establishment firstly, because it was far from home and he didn’t want to be recognised by anyone, but also because the women here had a reputation for being choosey in their clientele. No man could walk up to these women and demand their services for a price; no, the woman had to agree. And allegedly, Hind Close’s books were so full and their clientele so numerous that the women here could afford to pick and choose their gentlemen.

As hideous as he was, he didn’t want to force himself on anyone – nor did he want a women to feel obligated to take his money and his body. He could make an offer here, and feel secure in the knowledge that the women would be able to say ‘no’ if his leg was too disgusting for them to bear.

Which, he thought sadly, they probably would.

#smutty smut smut #bridgerton fic #kathony fic

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ey8508 · 3 years

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Hidden Weapon [暗器迷局]

Rumors and Secrets: Li Zeyan (李泽言）| Victor

Li Zeyan SSR: A Great Secret

【 Everyone wanted to know how he sat on the highest chair with confidence.】

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 6-9 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1 Page 1 BLACK SWAN Investigation Log. Permission level: normal Name: Small syringe experiment Experiment recorder: Senior Experiment Researcher Jagger Experiment contents: [Day1] Investigated the illegal drug "small syringe" that is popular in the underground market and secretly went undercover. Page 2 .... [Day4] Send a preliminary investigation report to the BOSS, and receive a reply instruction. Nox will take the lead in handling this task, and everything will be under her command. [Day5] Seized samples of suspected small syringes from special channels. [Day6] The sensory organs can’t distinguish the components of the sample, and decided to make the injection. The experiment risk: high. This application was rejected by Nox on the spot. [Day7] The experiment sample is missing. [Day8] Received BOSS order, this experiment was terminated and abolished. Page 3 This is the first time Jagger has been frustrated in an experiment since joining BLACK SWAN. Fortunately, before he became a BS member, his life has not been smooth, so he can bear it. Since he was young, he discovered that his Evol distinguishes chemical components through his body, he has been struggling to become a scientific researcher. It's just that he behaves badly and has a violent personality, getting narrower and narrower in his career. Finally, after conducting an experiment that violated the bottom line of ethics and morality, he was jointly expelled from academia and was not allowed to step into the laboratory for life. Page 4 The night when the people from BS found him, he was living alone in a warehouse somewhere in the suburbs. So he picked up the beer can beside him and slammed "What BS! Don't bother me!" Looking at Jagger on the ground like a puddle of mud, the member had to take out his mobile phone and made a brief report to his superiors. "....Okay, understood, I'll start preparing now ." He hung up the phone, took out a delicately designed holographic projection metal box from his arms, and placed it in the open space in the middle of the warehouse. A few minutes later, I only heard the box "drop" shooting a blue light from the dot in the center. After the light shot up and down in the air for a circle, a slender shape figure slowly emerged. Page 5 Jagger narrowed his eyes and looked at the holographic projection in front of him, and saw a man sitting on a leather chair, his entire face hidden in the shadows, only his bright leather shoes and neat suit trousers could be seen. Jagger couldn't help but spit into the air. "What is this shameful sight!" As soon as the voice fell, the BS member beside him looked up at him almost immediately and even took two steps closer. Jagger shrinks his neck subconsciously. "Look- " Page 6 The man in the projection knocked on the armrest of the chair twice, and the member immediately retracted his gaze and stood back to where he was before. "As far as I know, you were jointly expelled from academia three years ago and you are forbidden to participate in any experiment for life." The man spoke slowly, his voice low, but he revealed an unstoppable momentum. "So what?" "BLACK SWAN can give you the opportunity to re-enter the laboratory" Page 7 "Heh, BLACK SWAN is so famous, so many eyes are staring at it in the society, once my name appears in the laboratory, someone will immediately take notice and you'll be in trouble." "Who said that your name will appear in the laboratory?" "How do you contradict yourself? You said that BS gave me a chance to re-enter the laboratory, and you said that my name would not appear in the laboratory. Could it be you," said Jagger. His eyes suddenly widened. "Giving you a new identity is not difficult for BS." Chapter 2 Page 1 The turbidity in Jagger's eyes lit up instantly. He opened his mouth and didn't know what to say. "Since you have some knowledge of BS, it is not difficult to know that BS's social resources are top-notch. BS's power is more than enough to support you to do experiments and..." Although he couldn't see the man's face clearly, Jagger felt the man's direct gaze. "Join BS, the worst situation is better than you are now." Page 2 Jagger realized that this holographic projection is a bidirectionally visible BS technology that has already reached this level of advancement. He lowered his head and glanced at himself, his face suddenly hot. After the man behind the barrier said these words he slightly cleared his throat as he raised his hands signaling to cut off the phone. Blood instantly rushed to the top of Jagger's head, and he unwillingly picked fresh from the opponent. "Since BS is so powerful, why should the superior BS leader had to invite a little man with a poor clothes?" In such a big pomp, he had guessed the identity of the opponent just now, and he broke this point, it was just a momentary quick guess. The other party's movements seemed to give a chuckle. Page 3 "For talents, I will do my best." The tone was steady, without a trace of irritation. Jagger suddenly felt that he had lost in the game. But it is precisely because of this sentence that he willingly joined BS. It takes seven inches to strike a snake. This is the first thing Jagger learned from the BOSS. But that was the only time Jagger had direct contact with the BOSS. After joining BS, he never saw the BOSS again. Not only him, but almost all the members around him. Perhaps it was the first meeting with the BOSS that left a deep impression on Jagger, and when he has nothing to do, he put this sentence on his lips- Page 4 "Have you seen the BOSS? I mean, the BOSS himself." The member who was asked was stunned for a moment: "How is it possible? Seeing BOSS is like seeing an ancient dragon. I heard that even during the board meeting he's behind the barrier and no one can see him at all. In our organization, I heard that there is only one person who have actually seen him. Jagger nodded, indicating that he knew this person: "You mean Nox?" The other party sneered: "Don't call them just by their code names, we are below them, but we call them with the honorable 'Miss' " Jagger was puzzled, and the man came immediately interested. Page 5 "Don't tell it to others. I have something else to tell you..." The member looked around again, then lowered his voice, "They all said that the relationship between BOSS and her is unusual. Although the they remain anonymous from the outside world, BOSS is often doing things from behind the scenes to maintain Nox. Some time ago, have you heard about the leak of the Evolver identity of artists under Nox? It is said that after this incident, many board members asked to punish Nox at the meeting, but they were all blocked by BOSS. Jagger snorted, but didn't answer. Although he is very curious about the identity of BOSS, he has never been interested in this kind of gossip. Chapter 3 Page 1 Soon after this conversation, Jagger was appointed to join the investigation and experiment of the illegal drug "Small Syringe", and the leader of this mission was Nox. He was in trouble for a while, not because he discriminated against women, but since joining BS, BOSS closed one eye to his "pioneer" experimental methods. At least, his experiments have been carried out very freely. However, Nox's acting style is notoriously conservative. If she is told that he is doing bold experiments, she should be taken earlier notice. In addition, if the relationship between Nox and BOSS is really unusual according to what the member said last time, then Nox's opinion will be adopted by the BOSS, she is 'a hot potato'. He has to seek the consent of the BOSS before Nox can stop him. So he pretended not to know, and after obtaining the preliminary investigation results, he sent the investigation report to the BOSS as usual, but he did not expect to receive an immediate reply: Page 2 "Nox will take the lead in handling this task, and everything will be under her direction." The next day, the informant sent a sample that was suspected to be a small syringe. He flexed his hands and went to his head for a while. First, he experimented with the sample by smell and taste, but he could not distinguish its components. So he made a decision to inject the samples to himself. After deliberation, he asked Nox for instructions. Sure enough, he was directly rejected by Nox on the spot. Out of desire for the results of this experiment, he decided to lie about the loss of the sample and intend to conduct the experiment secretly. Unexpectedly, he was caught by the BS inspection team that night, and even reported the situation to the BOSS himself the next day. Jagger didn’t expect to see BOSS again, this is actually the case. Page 3 "Since the application has been rejected, why did you still do it?"

A familiar voice came from behind the barrier, mixed with a trace of fatigue. "It stands to reason that I can perform general drug component analysis from sight, taste, touch or smell alone, but the composition of this sample is complicated, hence these are not enough. If I allow injection, once the sample enters my blood, I can feel the state of its movement in my body. Through my body's reaction, it should be possible to analyze it." "Do you know why Nox rejected your proposal to do the self injection for the samples?" Page 4 "This is because there is only one sample. If there is no experimental progress after the injection, all the efforts will be ruined." "She checked your information. Every time your body is injected with a drug, it will cause irreparable damage. It will not take long for you to die in this type of experiment." Jagger was stunned. "Although BS is in a critical position, it never needs to use the lives of any members as a stepping stone." "This experiment stops here." Page 5 "Also, Nox's orders, should not be disobeyed anymore." .... After the meeting with the boss, Jagger's heart was mixed, and he sat in place and meditated for a long time. It's just that the brain, which has been in contact with the most direct chemical elements all his life, will not know this inexplicable emotion. However, he knew very well that this BS 'Miss' was indeed a bit capable. Chapter 4 Page 1 BLACK SWAN meeting minutes Permission level: advanced Recorder of the meeting: Member of the board of directors, Assistant Mr. W. Content of meeting: Page 2 【Previously, the "small syringe" incident set off a huge wave in society. This meeting mainly focused on "whether BS should develop a drug similar to the small syringe O-tube". During the meeting, some members expressed support for this approach, believing that BS, as an organization centered around Evolver and human evolution, should take the lead in researching such drugs to screen ordinary people and accelerate human evolution. Another part of the members believes that it is too early to invest in development projects before investigating the main cause of the small syringe incident and the role of the drug, and even BS should crack down on the market value of small needles from all aspects to restrain such cases. Drugs are being re-developed to fundamentally eliminate such drugs. Page 3 The two voices stayed at each other during the meeting. In the end, the BOSS decided to investigate the small syringe incident first and postponed the development of such drugs indefinitely. 】 From the beginning of this meeting, Mr. W's heart has been hanging. Since the introduction of the small syringe, the internal voice of BS has become noisy, and those desires that have been hidden have begun to move around. Many people want to get a share of the small syringe. However, what worries him is not these noisy sounds, but the thoughts of the person behind the barrier. If that person also thinks that the power of BS is enough to develop EVOL! Evolution potion, then the road behind BS may be even more difficult. Page 4 Mr. W looked at the faint figure behind the barrier, and seemed to be sitting upright and calmly at the moment. Even though there was a verbal battle in the conference room, the man always looked like he was out of the picture. Until a member spoke: "I don't know about this, what is the BOSS's opinion?" Everyone finally calmed down and looked at the barrier at the end of the round table. Mr. W leaned forward unconsciously, and had to admit that he was looking forward to know what the BOSS would answer. .... When the young BOSS first took over the office, Mr. W also had a questioning attitude. Page 5 After all, BS had just experienced a mighty internal turmoil at that time. Whether the BOSS was a hero created by the time or whether it was really capable of this position, no one knew. In addition, BOSS has never announced his identity since he took the office. Except for Nox, no one has seen him in the entire BS. Whether it is the core mysterious high-level Twelve or the board of directors, they can only communicate with him through a barrier, which has caused dissatisfaction among many members. These people formed a small group in a very short period of time, trying to pull him into the abyss before the BOSS sits firmly on the throne of the BS leader. Before they did it, even in the early days of their small group, they had already been taken up by the BOSS. He quickly uprooted the group and carried out a cleanup inside BS. Overnight, these people disappeared from BS without a shadow. Page 6 Mr. W has inquired about the whereabouts of these people through various channels, but has never found any clues. These people seem to have never existed in this world. Mr. W still remembers that in the earliest meeting after the small group was eliminated, the BOSS was silent for a long while. After sometime, many people who had been eager to move in their hearts and had not had time to put it into practice almost lost their breath. The person behind the barrier spoke: "The remaining few people who plan to instigate rebellion, the reason why you are left is because you are still helpful to BS." "Take care of the extra hands and feet within three days, don't let me do it myself." Page 7 As soon as the voice fell, many of the people present changed their faces slightly. Fortunately, he was used to looked calm under such situations. After re-adjusting the rigid posture, he realized that there was actually cold sweat behind his back. Since then, the noisy sounds inside BS have finally quieted down. Mr. W began to appreciate the decisive decisions made by the BOSS and is actually celebrating with the new change. Page 8 But that was the only time Mr. W heard such obvious emotions in the mouth of the BOSS. Later, many meetings were held in BS. He observed that no matter what level of personnel the questioning voice was, whether they agreed with the other party’s point of view, BOSS always respected the other’s point of views and stood at a higher level. Neither makes people too ugly, nor does it show one's position too much. This allowed the members of the organization that had always been fighting to put down the war for a while, and the internal balance of BS reached an unprecedented balance. Mr. W believes that at the age of BOSS, few people can do this. Put aside the identity of a member of the BS organization, Mr. W has never seen such a method in business for so many years. If you have to name someone who can be compared with him, Li Zeyan, the president of Huarui, has a style similar to that of BOSS. It was not that he had never suspected that it was the same person, but no matter how he investigated and inquired, the information he got was very few. Chapter 5 Page 1 Maybe he stayed in a high position for too long, and there was nothing new to pass the time, so Mr. W gradually regarded the inquiring of the boss as his personal task. In addition to trying his best to investigate the identity that matches it in society, he will deliberately talk against the BOSS during meetings in an attempt to find clues. However, no matter how he made a fuss, the people behind the barrier will always stay calm and undisturbed. As the leader of BS, BOSS can handle everything without any leakage. Page 2 At first Mr. W just felt dull. But over time, as an older member, he found that this was a serious problem. He realized that there seems to be a certain trait missing from the BOSS, which is a human commonality that any ordinary person should have. If you have to be clear, you can call this trait a human touch. For a while, this is indeed not a great thing, but it is precisely because this thing is so common, so precious enough. Mr. W is worried that people who lack this trait will not sit in the position of leader for too long, or that such person will once again lead BS to an extreme. Page 3 "What is my opinion, it is up to you to convince me." The deep voice pulled his thoughts back to the meeting room, and seeing the other members in deep thoughts, he realized that the BOSS had just answered the question of the member just now. He lowered his head and modified the voice in his heart a bit, then raised his hand signaling to speak. "What we should do now is to figure out the ins and outs of the main incident, who developed the small syringe and for what purpose the opponent is an enemy or a friend. These key information are very important." Page 4 After hearing this, many members tried to refute, but they were preempted by the BOSS. "All the resources of BS have always revolved around Evolver's evolutionary issues. At this time, instead of developing evolutionary drugs, they are investigating small syringes. Is it not upside-down?" Members supporting the research and development of drugs echoed. Mr. W's heart sank. Does the BOSS support the development of such drugs? He tried to swallow the suspicion that was surging up, and couldn't help but tried to make an excuse. Page 5 "On the contrary. At this stage, ordinary people already have a lot of opposition to Evolver. In addition, after the main incident, many ordinary people and Evolver's body have suffered varying degrees of damage. The development of small syringes is very powerful. It may come with a hostile attitude. In the long run, Evolver evolution is a major event for all human beings. If we do not investigate clearly and blindly follow the trend to develop evolutionary drugs, then we are likely to fall into each other’s trap. It'll makes things difficult for BS to move forward with evolution in the future." Page 6 Perhaps he said too much. Once again, there was silence in the conference room, only the sound of regular fingers tapping on the tabletop came from behind the barrier, which sounded a certain kind of calmness. Mr. W has a foreboding that perhaps BS's development of evolutionary drugs is already a certainty, and perhaps his painstaking persuasion is just futile. Just when he was frustrated, the sound of the man's fingers tapping on the tabletop stopped. "The reason is good enough to convince me." "The development date for the evolution drugs will be postponed indefinitely." The meeting room became noisy again, and many members were angry. Page 7 "I said, my decision is determined by your rhetoric." "Of course I respect different opinions. As long as your reasons are valid." Those members who had been crying out to support the development of the drug were hesitating at this moment, and could not give a reason strong enough to bring the situation back, and had to accept their orders and took their seats. "Since there isn't, that's it for today." The BOSS issued an eviction order and the meeting room was cleared within a minute.

Page 8 Only Mr. W is still sitting on the spot, he has an important question that he wants to confirm to the BOSS. "BOSS, what is your side of position in this matter?" The BOSS seemed to stand up, walked behind the chair, and finally stood by the window behind the barrier. "My position has been made very clear." Mr. W walked out of the conference room with this answer, which was not an answer. Page 9 The moment he stepped out of the door, he suddenly remembered that before he had a long discussion in the meeting, the BOSS raised a sharp question uncharacteristically. This question seems to be on the side of the members who support the drug, but it was after answering this question that the BOSS was quickly ‘convinced’ by his own reasons. Mr. W stood there thinking for a moment, then he stretched his brows and frowned all day. It turned out that today, I was ‘utilized’ by the BOSS. Everything he said today was just that the BOSS used his own mouth to silence other members. But this kind of use is very useful. Page 10 After thinking about this, Mr. W let out a long breath. The problem he had been worried about had been settled.

#love and producer #love and producer li zeyan #mr love queen's choice #mr love queen's choice victor #mr love li zeyan #mr love victor #rumors and secrets Victor

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 3 years

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Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries

On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)

There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.

It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.

[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]

Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:

“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”

Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.

I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:

“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”

There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.

And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.

“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.

Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)

I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.

Love, Bex

p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)

#my life as a cancer patient #cancerversary #stage 4 #mbc #metastatic breast cancer #personal #memories #bex writes #writing invitation #quarantine life

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escapetoluna · 4 years

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Writing Sibling Relationships

A sibling relationship is perhaps one of the most complicated things to realistically write about. Your character dynamics and personalities will help determine their relationships but here are some things to consider:

Building their past:

Think about how they were raised. Upbringing plays a large role in impacting a person's character, and it also helps shape relationships with siblings.

Consider their favourite memories. Good memories are important to a person, and people often seek to create new memories similar to the old good ones. On the other side, also think about their worst memories.

Who was the oldest? Who was the baby? Birth order does have some impact on personality. It also is especially important for the earliest memories.

Think about the roles that they ended up in. Siblings do, to some extent, define themselves by how they are different from each other. They pursue different interests, take on different roles, and explore different identities. These roles can be a source of self-realisation and sometimes frustration.

Giving siblings personalities:

Choose personality traits for each sibling. Even if the sibling is only a minor character, it's important to know their basic personality.

Think about each character's dreams, hopes, and struggles. What do they want in life? What are their goals? Every character needs something to strive for.

Figure out their insecurities. Everyone feels insecure about different things: skills, personality traits, perceived physical flaws etc.

The siblings in your story might have similar looks, qualities and characteristics. However it’s important to make them their own person too.

Keep in mind that siblings might have the same habits, sometimes without even realising it. (Personal example- My eldest brother and I do not look the same. He has green eyes, mine are brown. I have dark hair, he’s blonde. Our faces are shaped different. He takes after our mum, I take after our dad. However, we have a lot of the same habits and mannerisms. We both carry ourselves in the same way, we both quirk our eyebrows in the same manner when confused. Little things like that, that when growing up I’ve picked up from him and vice versa.)

Things siblings do: (This is a generalisation)

Siblings know how to push each others buttons.

Usually they spend so much time with each other, they know exactly how to annoy their sibling and the best way to do it.

Whatever annoys your character, his (or her) siblings already know about it. If your character’s siblings decide to get on his nerves, it shouldn’t take them very long.

Most (if not all) siblings make fun of each other to some degree. Usually they are just messing with each other. Depending on the circumstances, the insult may be forgotten almost immediately.

But it’s important to consider how siblings react when someone else is picking on their brother or sister. A lot of siblings will get defensive in this situation. Unless you have set up a reason otherwise, make sure your siblings know how to tease each other but also how to protect each other.

They rarely call each other “sis” or “bro” unless they’re trying to be annoying. This is seen a lot in films and TV but it’s not common. The occasional greeting like that is fine, but overusing it just sounds strange and unnatural.

Sibling conflict:

Siblings will argue other pretty much anything. Most of the time it’s just to get a reaction. Sometimes one will start an argument just because they’re bored.

The silent treatment! A lot of siblings, particularly children teenagers and young adults will give each other the silent treatment over the pettiest things. But it’s incredibly hard to ignore someone living in the same house as you for a long period of time.

The sibling on the receiving end of the silent treatment will usually do absurd and annoying things to get their brother or sister to speak.

Common things siblings argue about:

The tv remote

Who is going to use the bathroom first

Someone is taking too long in the bathroom

Who gets to sit in the front seat of the car

Who the favourite is

Estranged siblings:

“Sibling relationships are our longest, but it’s also an accident by birth. There are no guarantees that the siblings will grow up with similar personalities, interests or like each other,”

You should be able to find plenty of conflict amongst brothers and sisters. But most of the time there is a resolution.

If you were to fall out with a friend, you can unfriend them, you can’t un-sister a sister, whether you like it or not you’re stuck with that person in some sense.

However, some siblings do fall out and never speak to each other again. It happens, but if this happens in your story there are a few things to consider:

When asked about their family will your character acknowledge that they have siblings? Or will they claim to be an only child?

Why did they stop speaking?

Would they reconcile in times of crisis? For example, if a family member died would the siblings put aside their differences to deal with the situation?

Do they tell stories about their childhood that include the sibling?

It’s important to remember that if someone has a sibling, a lot of their childhood memories and stories from growing up will have some reference or include that sibling. It’s hard to complete cut them out, they will be mentioned at some point.

Given the entangled, long-lasting bond, what’s the price paid for suspending or ending it?

Does the sibling have other brothers or sisters whose relationships are satisfying? “

“If they have no contact with a sibling, it’s losing a shared history and there can be a sense of guilt,”

Or are your character’s relieved? Do they express a sense of relief.

“Like the end of a marriage, sibling estrangement is always sad, even when it brings relief. It’s not what anyone hoped for, but sometimes it’s the wise and necessary choice.”

Ways of bringing together estranged siblings:

Write compassion between your characters. Show them trying to see things from the sibling’s viewpoint alongside their own.

Have them say what they want from their sibling moving forward. Don’t just have your characters vent all the time. Your reader might grow tired of that.

Confirmation of love and affection:

Are the siblings in your story the type to talk about feelings? Maybe they don’t talk about it but the feeling is still there. Consider showing the depth of their relationship through actions.

(Personal example - When I was born my brothers were 4 and 6 years older than me. From what my mum has said they were both excited to have another sibling and would fight about who got to hold me first. When we were younger we used to cuddle on the sofa and play together, and frequently said I love you etc, however as we got older that stopped. I can’t remember the last time I said I love you to either of them, which sounds terrible. But it doesn’t change the fact that I know they love me and that they know I love them, we just show it and say it in different ways.)

Relationships with parents:

How did parents or caregivers react to fights between siblings?

Was there parental favouritism, real or perceived? How did the non-favourite sibling(s) react?

Do your siblings stick together when arguing with their parents?

Would your characters lie in order to prevent their brother or sister being told off by their parents?

Some siblings will join forces to tease their parents.

What if the siblings don’t have a good relationship with their parents:

If this is the case in your story, research it, google is your friend.

Try and read up on real life experiences.

Consider how the siblings view their parents. Do they stand together with the same opinion or do they have conflicting recollection of events?

Do the parents have a healthy relationship with each other? How has this impacted their children?

Writing siblings who have abusive parents:

If the siblings come from an abusive home, how has this affect their behaviour?

Do the siblings ever talk about what happened?

Do they have the share the same experience? Do they ever argue about the situation?

Are they over protective?

Has their own relationship become strained? Have they drifted apart?

Do the siblings ever acknowledge the past? If not, does this cause friction?

Common assumptions about sibling age order:

Oldest child: people pleasing, bossy, organised, punctual, natural leader, controlling, ambitious, expected to uphold family values, caretakers, financially intelligent, responsible

Middle child: flexible, easy going, independent, sometimes feels like life is unfair, sometimes will engage in attention-seeking behaviour, competitive.

Youngest child: silly or funny, risk-taking, creative, sometimes feels inferior, easily bores, friendly, outgoing, idealistic, the baby of the family.

Only child: close to parents, demanding, leaders, spoiled, self-absorbed, private in nature, may relate better to adults to kids their own age, independent, responsible

While these are common assumptions, they are not strictly true and it’s important to consider your characters personality before you apply any of these stereotypes because it may clash with how your character truly is.

Half siblings:

Half-siblings can run along several lines:

They might act like full siblings, depending on how long they’ve known each other.

They may view each other as space takers.

Your characters may feel “eh” about their half- sibling, they could just be someone who is there but they don’t have a relationship with. The half-sibling may even be a complete stranger.

Consider that they might be rivals. Are they friendly rivals or bitter rivals?

Don’t get caught up in trying to build their relationship based on what “should be” in accordance with society. As you establish these characters, let your own imagination lead you to what their relationship is. But remember that their relationship will be impacted on how the parents treat them too.

(@its-the-tear-in-my-heart thanks for asking about sibling relationships. This post is more generalised than your question but I hope it helped in some way.)

#long post #writing #writing resources #writing references #nano #siblings #my post #wiritng help #creative writing #oc's #character development #novel #novel resources #creative writing resources #writing inspo #wiritng inspiration

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petri808 · 3 years

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Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku canon divergent au #blood quirk #vampire quirk #bakudeku au #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #decchan #ktdk #ch 6 #bloody passion #petri808

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

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frENEMIES {Quarterback AU}

Summary: When his brother forces him to go on a double date with him and with a girl that absolutely hates Grayson, he’s forced to realize that their mutual disdain might have been caused by his own actions.

Warnings: swearing, a lot of banter

Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N - this is sort of a version of This Is War (Ethan frat/soulmate fic), but there are no soulmates here. It’s probably bad since I stress wrote it instead of studying, but it’s also kind of fun? I guess I’m a sucker for enemies trope. Also, I am writing Fix me finale, but it will take me a while because I am back in college for the next month and a half or so and I have back to back exams every 2 or 3 days. Hope you guys understand and I hope you like this one as well.

* * *

Ethan never thought he'd have to beg his brother to accompany a beautiful woman on a date, but he still found himself in front of his arm-crossed twin and his defiant glare.

„No. Not happening.“ Grayson is adamant, refusing to budge and most definitely not when it's her who they want him to go out with. Why can't they find someone else to be their double date?! He just didn't see the sanity in that decision.

„I'm asking as a brother!“ Ethan pulled his twin card, hoping to see change in Grayson who simply laughed in his face before turning his back on him, still stubbornly refusing to even consider it.

„Bruh, never gonna happen.“

Rolling his eyes, Ethan's annoyance grows as he's forced to walk in front of his brother who seems damn determined to fuck up his night even after he tried to bribe him with chores, cash, even his dear Smooth cat.

„She's Amina's best friend. I am begging you, please, don't make me call mom on you.“ And that's when he played the ultimate card – the mom card. There isn't a woman in the world as important to Grayson as his mother, but then again, there isn't a woman as capable of making him do things he'd never want to do.

„Seriously? Playing the mom card now? What are we, like 10? Plus, why would she even want me as a date?! She fucking hates me and I'm pretty sure she's mental. You're putting your favorite brother in the line of fire.“ Reasoning with Ethan had never been fruitful in the past, but even as he watches Ethan shrug his pleas off his shoulders, Grayson clings to some hope he'd manage to escape this whole ordeal. It's probably the only time he had ever regretted being a playboy instead of having a girlfriend...taken men can't be forced into dates with their worst enemy.

„Favorite? You're my only brother, Grayson. It does not make you necessarily a favorite.“ Ethan retorted with furrowed eyebrows before tossing a white, classy shirt at his brother's chest. „Now get ready and be nice tonight, okay?“

Nostrils flared as he inhales deeply, staring daggers at Ethan's back as he leaves the room, Grayson yells after him: „No promises!“

To say he spent the entire drive over to the restaurant sulking would be an understatement. The last thing, absolutely the last thing, Grayson wanted to do now is to spend a few hours around Y/N Y/L/N.

You know those girls that are always seemingly fun but will cut you down with just a look if you make a single misstep? The girls that may be smaller than guys but cause terror in them whenever they scowl?

Y/N Y/L/N is the queen B of the club Grayson is certain exists as some secret college society of women that learn how to make men's lives miserable.

Sure, she's on good terms with everyone else, but Grayson always found her to be rude and mean-spirited with him. Every time he tried to bridge the distance between them for not only his brother's relationship but his own inner peace, she nearly chewed his head off.

In time, Grayson learned to avoid her and her mood-swings, but he still found himself getting out of the car on this particular night, finding Amina in front of the restaurant and he could easily recognize Y/N, even from behind. Perhaps he's spent too much time admiring her ass in the past, but she wasn't hard to recognize, besides, who else would be helping Amina fix her hijab?

For a moment there, he just stands there on the curb, watching her as the wind picks up and her hair flies to the side, revealing her face as she steps away from Amina and giggles, the sound carried through the wind and to his unsuspecting ears. He thought her laugh is almost...tolerable...cute even.

Shaking his head vehemently, Grayson felt Ethan's hand on his shoulder and his expecting gaze as well.

„Come on. It might rain soon and I'd rather not worry if Amina will freeze to death when her clothes get wet.“

Sighing, Grayson follows his brother reluctantly, his gaze unwavering and on his enemy. She may be clothed in a beautiful green dress with bare back, but Grayson still remembers she's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

„Hey.“ Ethan smiles sheepishly at his dear Amina, giving her a small wave as she looks down shyly and her cheeks turn a darker shade. Their relationship is pure in Grayson's eyes – they rarely ever touch and when they do it's by accident and yet they seem to be inseparable. In a moment of weakness, he wished for something as simple and pure as they have too.

„Ugh. Grayson fucking Dolan? Seriously Amina?“ Y/N all but growled at her best friend who was forced to look at her instead of Ethan who really captured all her attention moments ago. Frowning, Grayson clears his throat, hoping to speak but Y/N continues.

„I thought I was supposed to be here with you as the third wheel because your dad insisted! Why call...“ She turns to Grayson, gesticulating to his face with slight disgust on her face before she adds: „Him.“

„Excuse me?!“ Grayson exclaims, quite frankly offended by the way she looked at him like he's not worth the dirt off her cheap heels, but she just turns to him with the fakest, fed-up smile she could muster.

„You may be excused.“ Showing him down the road, hoping he'd leave, Y/N looked at the way his face quickly changed from insulted, to angry, to wicked.

„Oh, no. I'm staying. Now that I know you have been blindsided into spending a whole dinner with me, I'd love for a chance to make your meal a little spicy.“ Winking, Grayson opened the door. Waiting for them to enter, Ethan and Amina were fast but Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the pavement, her eyes narrowed at him with suspicion.

„Waiting for a formal invitations, princess?“ Grayson clicks his tongue as he gestures with a nod for her to get inside, nearly bursting out laughing when she flinches with the thunder echoing in the street.

„You're just waiting for me to walk in order to let the door slam in my face.“ She guesses, looking up at the sky nervously as lightning tears the sky open.

„Maybe, but you'll never know if you don't come in. Or you can test your luck with the thunderstorm.“ Shrugging as if saying he's alright with either or, Grayson raises his eyebrow in challenge and then it crosses his mind – this is the first time since he met her that he has the reigns and it feels really, really good.

Pensive, she looks back up at the sky before shrugging. „I'd rather brave the storm then, quarterback.“

However, as she states her choice, rain starts to drizzle and the lightning illuminates every line of her frustrated face and her pouted lips as she closes her eyes in anticipation of what's to come. Brave...but stupid.

„Come in. I won't slam the door in your face.“ Clearing his throat, he adds. „My mama taught me better, alright?“

„Fine, but if you do, I know who to complain to then. Don't underestimate me, quarterback. I can find her number if I want to!“ Eyes narrower with every step she takes, arms tense as she expects him to go back on his word, she manages to walk into the restaurant without a scratch on her and surprisingly no attempt to even frighten her.

Y/N headed straight for the table next to Ethan and Amina, the only one available with 'reserved' card on it. She sat opposite of Amina so she could pick up on any signal her best friend sends, but also because she had many signals she wanted to send her and a middle finger might be one of them.

Of all the men in the universe, hell, of all the women in the universe, those two chose the quarterback from hell? She never quite understood how he and Ethan could be twins and be so fundamentally different but after the first two years, she just stopped trying to understand it – understand him, at all.

„Alright. What do you want to order?“ Grayson picks up the menu – the only menu on the table and she rolls her eyes at him again. „Might wanna watch the eye-rolls. Don't want your eyes getting stuck like that, do you?“

Glancing at Amina who just mouthed 'Please', Y/N let out a violent huff in utter frustration, even more so when Grayson continued to hog the menu.

„Why are you here? Really? Did they blindside you too?“ Y/N questions, more curious about how calm he seemed when he found her in front of the restaurant than the menu he holds. She can't eat much now when her appetite is for vengeance alone.

„Nope, Ethan played the mom card. I wouldn't be here otherwise, trust me.“ He responds without even looking at her, his eyes still going over the menu and if she didn't know better, she'd think he's confused.

„You have something better to do on a Saturday night? A girl perhaps? Did I cockblock you, quarterback?“ Raising her eyebrows with amusement, she leans in and cocks her head slightly to the left, awaiting for his response.

„Don't flatter yourself. My plans were more important than a girl. I was supposed to run on the treadmill.“

Shaking her head, finding his answer peculiar and she couldn't help herself but question him further. Besides, she had no other form of entertainment but to make steam come out of his ears.

„Running? That's more important? What the hell?“ Flabbergasted, she draws in a shaky breath as she puts a hand on her chest in surprise and Grayson dignifies her with a curious glance.

„Who chooses to spend a Saturday night on a treadmill?“

Putting down the menu, Grayson presses his tongue against his left cheek to reel his usually loud self which was always amplified around her.

„Someone who makes good life choices. Try it sometimes.“ Snarky tone he used made her bite her lower lip, slowly releasing the soft flesh with a little less lipstick than before. Shame – Grayson quite liked the red shade on her lips.

„Oh, quarterback, you're so scandalous. For future reference, if you ever see me running you should run too because I only run for my life...maybe not even then.“ Smacking her lips, she slyly grabbed the menu from his hands and looked it over herself. She noticed Ethan nod at his brother before they exchanged a few words in their weird gibberish language Amina told her about, though she had caught them doing so a few times before too.

„So, you're really into football, huh“, Grayson asks so naively, noticing exactly when she raised her eyes from the menu and up to him with a boy-you-better-run look and he gulps, aware she'd soon say something that would fuck everything up.

„Football? It's literally the last thing on my list of interests...hell, it's not even on the list!“ She exclaims, noticing Grayson's jaw clench and his eyes harden and Ethan facepalmed immediately, all too familiar with what will happen.

„Football is life! What do you mean it's not on the list?“ Shushed by Amina, he presses his lips together but his eyes are wide and wild and Y/N can't help but chuckle.

„It's the dumbest sport there is. All you do is throw hands with men with over-sized pads and helmets. You get concussions for fame? Fuck that.“ Tossing the menu on the center of the table, Y/N leans back in her chair as she notices a vein prominently showing on Grayson's forehead and she can't help but enjoy the view. There is nothing she likes better than a pissed off Grayson. He's got everyone treating him like a deity, but she was never among them. Perhaps it's because he fucked up when they first met, but she tried time and time again to give him the benefit of the doubt and he always proved her opinion of him, while abominable, is very accurate.

„Dumbest sport? Do you know how hard I work to be the very best on that field? The theories and strategies I have to learn? The physical preparations?!“ Whisper shouting, Grayson leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table and his biceps swell up as he moves some of his weight onto his arms and the table under him.

„Oh, wow! You work so hard? A doctor works hard, Grayson. They save lives and they will never earn the money you will earn after college. You're learning how to run zig-zag across the field with a crummy ball in your hands without falling, while doctors, lawyers, teachers, cashiers and many REAL professions are so underfunded and underpaid and you think that's fair?“ Shaking her head, she raises her hands in mock surrender, watching a little bit of Grayson's ego chip away and he shakes his head too, looking away as he keeps his mouth shut.

„Why do you even hate me so much?“ Grayson mumbled sometime during dinner - a very quiet dinner.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she wondered if he really doesn't know. Hell, she always knew why she hates him, but she never knew why he hates her.

„You really don't know?“ She nearly chuckles when he shrugs, oblivious as always.

„Why is that somehow worse than everything you did?“ Talking to herself more than him, she lets out a heavy sigh. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Y/N presses her lips together and Grayson can't help but notice the red lipstick is once again evenly spread across her lips.

She remembered the way they met, the way he treats the girls, the pranks he pulled that left her mortified, or the nickname he started that followed her for a whole semester and most of all, she couldn't forgive him for scaring off a guy she thought she'd be with for a very, very long time.

„You're so smart and sure of yourself, figure it out.“ But then again, she did have an appetite for vengeance and he had no idea how ready she was to satisfy it.

He was clueless until Monday morning, right after practice when he was left last in the locker-rooms after his self-imposed morning practice. He was clueless as he walked out of the shower, confused as to where his towel is. He was clueless when his steam-clad body felt the breeze of the mysteriously open window in the locker-room had made him shiver.

However, when he opened his locker, Grayson was no longer clueless: his clothes – gone, his jersey – gone, his phone, bag and towels gone.

Everything is gone, yet when he looks at the mirror, he finds the cause for the message left in a very familiar shade of red gave him more than just a clue – XOXO next to a clear mark of a particular pair of lips he was admiring on Saturday night.

„Y/N FUCKING Y/L/N!“

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @dolandolll

PART 2

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan college au #grayson dolan quarterback

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legoshi-plz · 4 years

Text

Cynic (Legoshi x Reader)

Legoshi x Canine! Reader

Warning: NSFW (+18), minor mention of Rape/ Sexual Assault

Summary: Maybe you and a certain Grey Wolf are more alike than you thought.

A/N: So I decided to change up these requests just a little so that I could combine them ! I hope you guys like it! These started off as Headcanons but i got a little carried away lol also Characters are all over 18 in this fic

/////////////

You weren’t exactly what people would call a ‘happy’ animal.

Okay that was an understatement, you could be downright depressing at times. It’s not like you actually meant to be such a downer, you just considered yourself a realist and being a Carnivore in today’s society was the farthest thing from a ‘happy’ existence.

People profiled Carnivores wherever they went, always quick to see your kind as natural aggressors and when they weren’t clutching their purses ready to call animal control on you all for just being alive, they were quick to go over the top to prove they saw “all animals equally”, which usually was just a ploy for ‘progressive points’.

Being a Domesticated Dog, you recognized your privilege was a double edged sword in one of the worst ways possible. You had Herbivores constantly in your face telling you “You’re one of the good ones” while other Carnivores mostly saw dogs as ‘sellouts’ who were willing to whore themselves out (socially and in... other ways) for even the slightest scrap of attention. It was infuriating just living in such a society and you constantly felt on the verge of snapping but if you did, you’d just prove to be everything they already thought you were.

So needless to say, you kept to yourself. You just couldn’t bring yourself to put on the false pretense of cheerfulness that domesticated animals were expected to uphold so you tried to keep to yourself. No one understood you nor did they try. They were too caught up in their own charades and you were beyond the point of explaining how screwed up this world was. They knew, they didn’t care.

You were convinced you would spend your entire high school career in the shadows, not making an impression (good or bad) on anyone or anything and for a while it seemed that way. Until your final year.

For the most part, keeping to yourself gave you a lot of time to observe others, rarely were you the one technically being ‘observed’. Which is why you couldn’t understand why a certain Grey Wolf couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He was painfully obvious, his awkward attempts to hide his little obsession whenever his eyes met yours was almost comical.

You chalked it all up to him probably being another sick fuck with a fetish for submissive animals. It was more common than most people like to address and Domesticated female dogs were the leading demographic of rape/ sexual assault victims from wolves. It was mainly the close proximity of their biology that made it so hard for wolves to control themselves (if you could say they had any control to begin with.) They preyed on smaller dogs because in comparison to them it was the closest they could get to defiling a Herbivore without the internalized shame and disgust. Also female Carnivores were often not believed when it came to these crimes because they were perceived as stronger/ more aggressive and should have been able to defend themselves. Yet another flaw in this fucked up animal judicial system.

You decided to ignore the Wolf and hope he just moved on. There weren’t many dogs at Cherryton but there were a few others who would probably be more than happy to tame the beast that lie within him. Or between his legs.

But weeks turned into months and his interest in you failed to cease. You decided to confront him. You decided to do so after class once the rest of the class filed out. He usually drug his feet so it wouldn’t be hard to catch him. Best case scenario, he was embarrassed about getting caught and promised to stop. Worst case scenario, he can’t control himself and takes you right then and there. You were apathetic either way, there were worst things out there than fucking a Wolf right?

You approached his desk as he was scrambling to shove his things into his shoulder bag, the rest of the class had long filed out by now.

“H-Hi,” he said looking up at you, his ears tilted downwards.

“You got a problem with me or something?” You can tell by the way his ears tugged down even further that your voice came off a little harsh but that was just the way you were.

“W-Why would I have a problem with you, YLN-san?” He was avoiding your cold stare. He was a Grey Wolf for crying out loud, what was wrong with him? Wolves were a lot of things but skittish wasn’t one of them.

“Drop the formalities. You stare me down day in and day out but now you’re afraid to look me in the eye? What are you playing at?” Okay maybe you did sound a little harsh but you didn’t believe in skipping around the topic.

“I just... noticed we were kind of... the same, y’know....” he grimaced. You left out a dry laugh. He knew nothing about you but he thought the two of you were the same? This definitely had to be some sort of ploy. He wanted something from you and sooner or later you’d find out what that something was.

But that later never came. He began to explain himself, explain how he was pretty bleak too and that he couldn’t help but notice that someone else seemed just as paused in life as he was. At first you thought he was just churning out bullshit but the more you sat and listened to him, the more you hung around him, you began to see the undeniable similarities between you two.

He would express the struggles he faced with his own existence as a Wolf, how he felt like he could never truly be himself, or even know what being himself actually meant because he was so busy trying to make people unafraid of him. It was like you had met your other half. He understood what had been gnawing at you from inside for years now because he was going through the exact same thing. And so the two of you became fast friends, nearly inseparable from one another.

You tried to deny it but you were slowly becoming more and more infatuated with the Grey Wolf every day. Legoshi was so kind and reserved at times but you found those traits all the more endearing. He showed such vast wisdom and maturity despite his own social awkwardness and you found yourself overwhelmingly comfortable in his presence. Comfortable and safe, his naturally huge physique and protective instincts which should give you every right to fear him actually proving to do just the opposite.

Speaking of Physique, you had to admit that Legoshi was undeniably attractive. Tall, beautiful coat, all lean muscle, a thick healthy tail you had found yourself drooling over near-constantly. He was any Canine’s kryptonite and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it before now. Maybe it was just because you were so enamoured by his mind that your attraction to him physically was inevitable. Either way, you found yourself daydreaming about mounting him more times than you’d like to admit.

You thought that perhaps what you felt for Legoshi might be mutual until you found out he used to date a tiny Herbivore . And not just any Herbivore, a rabbit. The daintiest of them all. So he was just another sick psychopath with a fixation on innocence. You were heartbroken to say the least. What probably hurt the most was that you were no where near his type if Rabbits were his thing. You never stood a chance. But then again that wasn’t a surprise. You were nothing special prior to meeting Legoshi so why would yo expect anything to be different now.

That being said, it didn’t make you want Legoshi any less physically. You might not be his ideal mate but you knew there was still a part of him in there that had a desire for sexual release, a desire that Canine felt especially compelled to with other Canine, and you were going to capitalize off of that.

You found him in his usual spot in the art department after dark. He was always the last to leave.

“Y/N! Where’ve you been? H-have you been avoiding me?” He asked his tail tucked between his legs. You hadn’t seen him in about four days and giving the nearly inseparable friendship the two of you had over the past few months, it was out of character.

“I was,” you said bluntly. His ears lowered immediately.

“O-oh... did I do something wrong?”

“Yes,”

“... what was-”

“You fuck rabbits, Legoshi.” You saw his fur visibly stand on end and his eyes turn wide as saucers.

“Y/N I-”

“Look I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” you deadpanned, stepping forward, “I wanna have sex with you.”

“You WHAT?!”

“I’m attracted to you Legoshi. I might not be your type but I am small and I can make you feel good.” You didn’t wait for his response as you dropped to you knees in front of him.

“Y/N wait please,” he was tense all over but you were already unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. Surprisingly, he went commando.

You pulled him out of his pants to see his knot was already beginning to swell at your touch and he was painfully hard. You licked your hand and began to stroke his impressive length. Guess it was true what they say, the thicker the tail, the thicker the-

“Y/N please just give me a second!” Legoshi asked cupping your face between both his large hands. You craned your neck up to meet his gaze but continued to pump his aching cock.

“Just relax, Legoshi. It’s okay if you have to pretend I’m a rabbit, I don’t really care. I know I’m not much to look at anyway,” you said, wrapping your mouth around his angry tip that was currently streaming out pre-cum. You moaned at the flavor as Legoshi shuddered above you.

“Y/N please stop, this can’t happen like this, okay.” He said slightly more forcefully as he pulled you off of him and began to tuck himself into his pants, his cock straining against the fabric defiantly creating an enormous bulge.

“Really? That unattracted to me, huh? Well, I guess it is what it is,” you said in your usually monotone voice while standing up and brushing off your skirt. You turned, about to make your exit when Legoshi grabbed your arm.

“Wait, Y/N, look I didn’t- it’s not that- I just-” Legoshi was flustered and looked as if he was ready to pass out at any moment.

“Spit it out, Wolf boy,” you said , trying to hide the fact that your feelings were pretty hurt.

“I just- I like you Y/N, really I do but-”

“You just don’t like me in that way. I heard you loud any clear. It’s whatever, Legoshi. Don’t stress it,” you said attempting to shrug out of his grip.

“Hold on, can we talk about this?!”

“There’s nothing to talk about, I wanted to have sex and you don’t.”

“I- I do w- of course I want to have sex with you, Y/N. I like you, a lot. You’re actually all I’ve been able to think about for a long time. But you’re so.... so.... indifferent towards even the slightest romantic implications, I didn’t think I had a shot in Hell...” he sighed.

“If you like me then why’d you stop me?” You asked evenly. You weren’t about to get your hopes up, that just wasn’t your style.

“Because I like you. If there’s even a chance you feel how I do then I wanna do this right. Ask you out properly, ask you to be my girlfriend, ask if I can kiss you, y’know the right steps before...”

“I suck your dick?” You offered, a small smirk playing at your lips. His still very much present hard-on twitched visibly at its mention.

“God, Y/N,” Legoshi groaned attempting to cover himself. You fought back the urge to giggle at his shyness despite the fact he was in your mouth less than two minutes ago.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I want to do it. Don’t you want me to?” You bit your lip in what you hoped was a seductive way.

“So fucking bad,” Legoshi groaned again unable to avert his eyes. You took this as an opportunity to step forward once more.

“Then why don’t we let this one slide, huh? And then we can do things your way?” You whispered palming him through his pants. He unconsciously began to grind lightly against your hand.

“Y/N, I’m in.... Male mode.... if we start, I might not be able to stop,” Legoshi voice was straining from trying to keep his own pleasure at bay. You dropped back down to your knees, once again pulling him out.

“Then don’t. Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ride you, Legoshi? Let’s allow this one free-pass then you can start all the courting processes you want,” you said before taking him into your mouth. Legoshi felt his eyes roll back into his head as he thrust softly into your warm, wet throat.

“W-Wait, one more thing” he moaned, once again taking away what was quickly becoming your new favorite treat.

You were about to protest when he kneeled down to your level, again cupping your face in both his hands in order to place the sweetest kiss imaginable on your lips. He rested his forehead against yours for a moment, before pulling away to see you with the dopiest grin on your face.

Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

#beastars #legoshi x reader #legoshi x you #beastars legoshi #beastars legoshi x reader

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serensama · 4 years

Text

To Release #4-#7

In my unbridled rage, I started and finished everything- even the two I lost for Jumin and Saeyoung. I specifically apologise for Jumin’s- it’s short and brash and nowhere near to the standard that my original piece had. I poured my heart out into that one... and it’s gone. I do not have the strength to try to write it again. So, instead I offer my apologies. This was written in one sitting with no editing, so this will have typos and missing words and incorrect tenses everywhere. Again. My apologies.

Jumin, Saeyoung, Saeran and V need to let MC go.

Years ago, I had asked the amazing @promiscuous-jalapeno to write a HC for me when I was too scared to write my own and she did an amazing job- tore me right up it did. I asked her shortly thereafter if she minded if I tried to do it and she was kind enough to encourage me. Nearly 4 years and I’ve finally done it.

Trigger warnings: Character death, curse words, mild sexual themes, and cancer.

This is for my friend, my sister- Susana. I don’t know how to let you go. But one day I will. And one day I will see you again. Rest well until then dear one.

This is for my baby, my puppy Meiko- run free my little one. I know you’ll be waiting for me too. Keep Susana company and keep her safe until we catch up, okay? Good Boy.

Jumin:

- They came home from a business trip and MC wasn’t feeling her best, but it was a long trip and she was bound to be tired.

- Except she was sick for over a week and she was too tired to fight Jumin to not send over the doctor to check her over.

- It wasn’t good news, but not yet the worst.

- So of course Jumin sprang into action. He called every doctor he knew and every pharmaceutical company, money was not an issue so he could afford to ensure that MC got the best of care. However he never paid for anyone to assist him in looking after his beloved wife.

- He took time off work and appointed Jaehee into a temporary role to replace him whilst he looked after MC. From fluffing her pillow to bathing her to ensuring the correct doses of medication were taken on time, no task too menial or below him if it was for his MC.

- And after a year of treatment, she got better. Things were back to normal, sure she wasn’t as strong as before but she had time to build up that strength. To be stronger than before.

- Two years passed and her sickness was almost forgotten, except when she wouldn’t wake up one day.

- Jumin couldn’t wait for the doctor to come to him so in his pyjamas he carried her to the car and drove to the doctor’s house himself.

- There was nothing left they could do. All treatments exhausted, the cure would end up ravaging what was left of her life.

- Instead of staying idly by at home she refused for Jumin to take any more time away from his company like he had those years before, she wanted to make sure he could still return to being Jumin even when she was long gone.

- But he didn’t know how to be Jumin without her anymore. He didn’t know anything.

- The sickness was relentless this time, only weeks before her body rejected the years of hard work and effort she had given to get better. She was weaker than before. She had no more fight to give.

- However before she was completely bedbound MC asked Jumin for a favour. To return back to the vineyard he had taken her to back when they were just engaged. She longed to see the sunset amidst all the red and purples. Longed to relive a time when things held so much more promise.

- How could Jumin refuse?

- It was a long drive but he quite fancied the idea of spending hours in the backseat with MC just talking to her, playing with her hair, her hands or running his own down her cheeks. Any time with her was all he needed to be content.

- They were talking, just chatting away, lost in the in between, the mixture of what was memory and what could be… when she slipped away from him. So quietly and gently as was her way, never disturbing him in life… or in death.

- He held on to her, wishing and hoping to anything that would listen to give her back to him. He would pay any price, do any deed if she would just come back. He didn’t know he was saying these out loud. Didn’t know anything else existed.

- Driver Kim asked if they should head back or perhaps go to the hospital but Jumin wouldn’t have it.

“Drive on.” “But Mr Han.”

“I said. Drive on.”

- And so he did. He drove and he drove and all the while Jumin kissed MC’s brow and let his fingers trace her soft, frozen features. She was still warm. He knew she was gone but… she was still warm.

- They had stopped for petrol not surprising seeing as they had driven throughout the day and it was almost midnight, he didn’t even know where they were. Nor did he care.

- Then the door opened beside him.

- It was cold.

- Cold air rushed through the car and MC would get…

- “Assistant Kang.” “Mr Han.” “What are you doing here? It’s late and you’re in your nightgown.” “I’m here to help you Mr Han.” “I am in no need of help.” “Driver Kim called me and told me what happened. Oh Mr Han, I’m so so sorry.”

“I… yes. Thank you. If Driver Han needs to be replaced in order to sleep then please arrange for another driver to meet us here and we can continue on-”

“Where are you going to go Mr Han? You know this isn’t right, you need to take her back.” “Assistant Kang this is above your pay grade.” “She was my friend Mr Han. Not just your wife. You can’t dismiss me for trying to help my friend.” “She is fine.” “I wasn’t only talking about her.” “Assistant Kang-” “Jumin.” “Please.”

- Jumin stopped and stared at his friend, eyes bloodshot and skin pale. “Jaehee. I … I don’t know what to do…” “Let me help.” “If I let her go now… if we turn around and she goes… I don’t belong anywhere. She was my home. When I got back to that apartment that won’t be home because she won’t be there. I can’t return to C&R because that’s where we worked together. Right now… here… this is all I have left Jaehee.” “Jumin-” “If I don’t leave this spot. I can tell myself that she’s sleeping. That none of this is happening and she’s just sleeping until we get to where we need to go. If I go out there… it makes this real. I’m not strong enough to let this be real.” “…” “I can’t do this.” “…” “I can’t do this without her.” “…” “I’m scared.”

“I know. Me too.” “I can’t.” “But you will, you will learn. We all will, together.”

- Jumin nodded and allowed Jaehee to help. His hold on MC still as strong as ever. However when the time came for him to let go, to relinquish his grip on her, he learned that he did know how to release her hand… and still remember the feel of her hand in his. He took one last breath of her scent and muttered words of love in her ear once more.

- In time he would learn to live again, how to function in society and somehow continue on. And perhaps, one day he would learn to exhale and know how to breath again.

- Perhaps.

Saeyoung:

- It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

- That was the saying wasn’t it.

- It kept replaying over and over in his head as he sat in the ER replaying the scene in his head. Trying desperately to retrace his steps and find out where he went wrong, where it all went so so wrong.

- It was just a normal afternoon, MC had managed to drag him away from the computer and one thing lead to another and they got into a play fight, nothing out of the normal for them. Rough and tumble play was a great opener for rough and tumble sex after all. She had pinned him down between her legs and he pushed on her shoulder a little harder to try to tip her over and instead of the haughty laughter that would normal bubble out of her mouth, she screamed. Blood curdling. Sweat inducing. Heart drop stopping. Screamed.

- Saeyoung watched as he could see the visible dip in her collarbone as she rocked back on forth above him with tears streaming her face. The red head scrambled out from beneath her, cursing his lack of grace as he accidentally jostled her, her wails of pain resonating deep within his ears.

- He could feel the adrenaline start to course through his veins and his thoughts clouding and clearing at the same time. He had scrambled to his desk and found his phone and wallet and pocketed them before carefully helping MC up and escorted her to the car, every movement measured and cautious to ensure the least amount of pain for her. And for him. Hearing her cry out like that… it was the worst kind of torture.

- So there he was. All alone with his thoughts. His cyclical, evil thoughts. Finding ways he could have prevented that from happening. If only he didn’t hit her so hard. If only he didn’t work so much and paid more attention to her and… shit.

- He opened and closed his eyes, squeezing the tears away that came unbidden, staring mindlessly at the speckled tile of the waiting room.

- After what may have been hours or days, two feet came into his line sight, forcing his eyes to rear upwards to the face attached to the scuffed white sneakers.

- The doctor in front him continued to talk and he could feel his head nod along at what he thought may have been appropriate times, his words muffled and obtuse. Until the word he hadn’t expected popped up and it felt like it crashed straight into his eardrums and forced his world off kilter. Forcing him further down into his seat as if his spine had melted and settled to the floor.

- It was just game. Harmless. They were laughing. She was laughing.

- She was dying.

- The disease already deep in her system, deep within her. Untapped and unchecked. That was why she was so fragile- he had always known that he had to be careful with her- and he had placed the chink in her brittle armour.

- The doctor tried his best to prepare him and make him understand that were ways to keep her comfortable until her time would eventually come to pass.

“Weeks… maybe months…”

Maybe.

- She was so small in the bed. Her arm in the sling and so pale even amongst all the white. The bastards had told her everything as she sat in the room alone and in pain, no one to hold her hand and tell her that everything would work out just fine.

- He would make sure of it.

- She offered him a small smile and a playful shrug of her shoulder which earned her a string of colourful language falling from her tongue. He smiled and shrugged back. Small, familiar gestures to offer them both comfort; falling short but the intent warming nonetheless.

- The doctor said his goodbyes and left the two to their own devices.

- “I’m… I’m so sor-”

“No.” “…No?” “I don’t have enough time left on this earth for sorry ‘Young.”

“You will. I’ll make sure you’re around until you’re old and grey, giving me more time to apologise for all the stupid things I still have to do with you.” “-‘Young-” “Like, I still need to go skinny dipping at the new waterpark that opened up.” “You promised you were going to do that at night where no children would be witness to your dangly bits-” “Or wear another one of your new dresses and stretch out the arms-” “-I can’t believe you did that, Jaehee bought that last dress-”

“Or throw our kid up in the air and accidentally smash their head into the ceiling.” “….”

“The point is… you’re going to be around.” “I will try.” “No, you will be. I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll contact Jumin… o-or Vanderwood… or a couple of the other agents I used to keep in touch with-” “Saeyoung, no.” “… Surely someone will know a better, more advanced treatment that can give us more time and-” “Saeyoung-” “I might have to do a couple of jobs in return-”

“NO!”

- Her voice echoed out of the room and into the hall, snapping him out of his musings. “No. No more jobs. No Vanderwood. No agents. Don’t… I don’t want that. I want you. Here, with me. I don’t want you out there doing God knows what that could have you hurt or dying-” “AND I WANT YOU TO DIE HERE? NOW? NEXT WEEK? NEXT YEAR?” he bellowed back, hands shaking the end of the bed, her chart clattering to the floor. “If I can fix this, doing it anyway I can, I will.” “Saeyoung… please…” “I don’t want to hear it-” “Please I’m scared.” “… MC…” “I’m scared for me and for you and… I don’t want to do… do this right now and… I want to go home but I c-cant and-”

- Her words dissolved into shuddering cries, quickly buried in Saeyoung’s protective embrace. Their squabble forgotten the moment he heard the crack in her voice. Saeyoung tightened his hold on her and brushed his lips against her hair, breathing in her scent.

- He wouldn’t leave her, however he wouldn’t sit futilely by and just watch the woman who saved him wane away into nothing- not when he could do something about it.

- After undergoing more tests and meeting after meeting of specialists with their shots and pills and treatment plans- they were finally able to go home.

- Except for MC, it may have been better to stay in the hospital because for all intents and purposes she was alone. He may have not been going out doing secret missions and getting shot at but he was always at the computer or on the phone, talking in hushed tones that seeped through the walls no matter how low he spoke. Each secretive whisper adding to the loneliness she felt inside her own home. Beside her but not with her.

- Taking care of her every need but not the one she needed most.

- Time. More than food, water or air. She needed time with him… and she was running out of it.

- And he… out of options.

- No one had anything he could access without going back in deep and to do that meant to go crawling back to… MC would never forgive him… but if she was dead he would never be able to forgive himself.

- It had been two weeks and she looked like she was stable. This mission would pay well and get the CEO of the best pharmaceutical company in his debt, it would take four days, one week tops. It would be worth it. She would be safe and they would have time together, time enough to waste arguing over this and to move on from it. He would do anything.

- Saeyoung had purposely planned to leave on a night where Saeran was out with his friends and had waited until she had fallen asleep with her dreams playing behind her eyelids. Saeyoung pressed the lightest of kisses onto her forehead, on the tip of her nose and on her perfect lips. His silent apology for what he was about to do.

- He picked up his bag and headed towards his garage, thankful that he didn’t have to say goodbye to her lest he lose the will to do what was necessary.

- Steeling his resolve, Saeyoung took in a deep breath and readied himself for a task he’d have done in the other life he had left far behind. Digging into his shirt he found the crucifix at the end of his necklace, the silver shining even in the dim light of his car. A prayer, a wish, a vow- sealed with a kiss to the cold metal.

- He was ready and prepared. He was all set to go- what he hadn’t accounted for was a certain blonde haired friend walking up his driveway with a bag of fried chicken to share.

- “…Yoosung?”

“Hyung? Where are you going off to?” “Wh-Why are you here?”

“I was in the neighbourhood and thought that you and MC Noona would like some company? It’s been a while since I last visited.” “Uh… uh that’s… now’s not a good time right now… I uh… MC’s not feeling well and I’m about to get her some medicine and-” “She’s right.” “Um… what?” “She says nowadays you’re so out of practice, you get flustered when you have to lie.” “What… what are you even talking about? Look I don’t have the time, I need to-” “I don’t know where you’re going. Or what you’re about to do… all I do know that you leaving MC alone now is the worst thing you can do.” “All of you don’t understand that I’m doing this for MC-” “And you still can’t get it through that thick head of yours that you trying to do what you believe is best for MC always leads to hurting her more!” “Could you just get out of the way?” “All those years ago- when you pushed her away, made her suffer all alone- you’re doing it again. She can’t talk to you so she talks to me, to the rest of the RFA. You’re letting history repeat because you think you know what is best and not taking her feelings into account.” “Don’t be ridiculous-” “She’s dying Hyung. The way she talks… she doesn’t have long. Are you really going to spend one second away from her when all she wants is you? Not me. Not anyone else. Just you.”

- Saeyoung could feel the wall he had built up to cage his emotions slowly crumbling away with each passing second. It was true, he had learned nothing. Making the same mistakes. Hurting the same woman time and again. It was time he made the right decisions.

“So stay. Please Hyung. Don’t do this, not again. She needs you.”

When did you get so smart Yoosung? “Did you bring any of the spicy kind? You know MC loves those the best.”

- Yoosung smiled and nodded, of course he did.

- They both went back into the house to find MC sitting up in bed, all bleary eyed and hair sticking up at odd angles.

“… Do I smell chicken?”

- So they all sat down on the bed, regaling in each other’s company and good food. None of them mentioning the fact that there was a backpack at foot of the bed.

- Saeyoung made a new promise then and there, amidst the sounds of Yoosung asking MC advice about how to ask one of his LOLOL guild members out, that he would make every last second count and make it worth a lifetime. He would take every chance he could to bring her joy, to make up for all the times he made her sad. In homage for all the times he would never get to make her happy in the future. He would fill her time with laughter.

- Her descent happened slowly at first, needing to nap a little bit more, the aches in her body happening more frequently. Then as her sickness began to sink its claws deeper into her, the fatigue had her bedridden and the drugs that kept her ‘comfortable’ were slowly getting becoming ineffective. However throughout it all- Saeyoung still made her laugh. Through the pain and the exhaustion, her heart was full. She was not alone after all.

- They would spend the days snacking and watching anime. Baking cakes for breakfast and having ice cream for dinner. Ordering food at 3am in the morning. Taking long drives out to nowhere and sitting on the roof of his car and stargazing. It was on one such a trip that he knew what their next great adventure should be.

- The new drugs she was on… she could barely stay awake. She had mere moments in the day where she was lucid, not enough energy to barely keep a conversation longer than 30 minutes at a time before needing to rest. She was going on without him and there was nothing he could do but…

- He made one last phone call.

- She was awake, she knew it- but it was dark… oh that was right… ‘Young had blindfolded her. Where were they going? They were in the car before but she had told him she was tired… she must have fallen asleep and he wanted to keep this destination a mystery… what… what the hell was that noise… “’Young… slow… slow down you’re driving too fast.” “Sorry, no can do MC… I promise, it will be worth it.” “… S’long as you’re being… careful.”

- A familiar pull drew down in the pit of her stomach as she felt the car lift off the road.

- The… wait

- “Young?”

- Fast. They were going too fast. “Young?!”

- Her heart thumped harder in her chest, fear coursing through her as she was certain and frail bones could no longer contain the strength of her heartbeat.

- And then- light- she was so light. Only tied to the world by the harnesses holding her in place.

- Warm hands unfastened the tie around her head, the light piercing her eyes as they adjusted as quickly as they could. Bright red hair and obnoxious orange glasses, kind amber eyes and smile… such a beautiful smile from the man she loved. Strong arms wrapping around her to hold her close as they swam in the free air of the plane, unbound from the constraints of gravity.

- As they came back down the first time MC gasped and clapped in glee, tired eyes gleamed with joy and as she realised just what was happening.

- “Saeyoung…” “We did baby… we’re at the space station… just like we always said we would be.”

- Again and again they basked in the feeling of lightness, those snippets of time where they were free of the of the weight of the world and everything that awaited them when they would eventually land.

- “’Young… we’re flying… we’re flying.”

“… We are.” “’Young… ‘Young…. Flying.”

- His fingers curled into her clothes as he clung to her, her body so tiny against his and even though she weighed nothing- cradling her lifeless body would forever be the heaviest thing he would ever had to bear.

Saeran:

- She was just getting a physical because she had gotten a new job.

- She felt fine.

- She was completely blindsided by the fact that she had been asked to come in by the doctor who had examined her.

- Apparently… apparently she had something wrong with her heart. Something she was born with. Largely inoperable and… well it didn’t… it didn’t bode well.

- She could try some medications to slow down what was happening but…

- MC told her parents over the phone. She had planned to tell Saeran some other time when she knew how to handle it better, when she could think of a way to make it sound more palatable. But how did you tell the person you loved that you were going to die?

- No. MC was not ready to tell him.

- Which of course meant he walked in on her crying to her mother that she didn’t want to die.

- She didn’t expect him to take the phone and hang up it up. Didn’t expect for him to look at her with wild eyes and limbs shaking, lips pulled tight with worry and blood drained from his skin. She didn’t know what to expect. “Is it true?” was all he could ask, his voice so quiet she could barely hear him. She nodded. “How long have you known?” “Three days.”

- She didn’t expect for him to throw the phone against the wall beside him as he rushed out of the door, trying his best to ignore her cries of his name. How could she expect for him to handle this well when she couldn’t. MC just slipped to the ground from their sofa and continued to cry on her own, still muffling her sobs for a reason far beyond even her knowledge.

- He didn’t know what to do. Too many thoughts. Too many feelings. None of them good and all too fast for him to catch between too clumsy hands. He felt as if his skin wasn’t enough to hold him together and he would burst at the seams and still… he would still have too many thoughts and too many feelings.

- He had to do something. He couldn’t save her. He couldn’t do anything right. But he know so many ways he could do something wrong and he could do those over and over again.

- He didn’t target anyone specifically. Just some random guy on the street who was yelling at his girlfriend? Sister? Co-worker? He didn’t care. He just had too much pain in his head and in his chest and if he didn’t…

- He felt an explosion of agony in his fist. He probably splintered a bone or something. Didn’t matter. This pain he knew, this pain he understood and knew how to stow away and forget about. This pain he could handle.

- So again, one hit then two, until the guy was out cold. He felt someone spin him around and try to subdue him but no, there were too many emotions and not enough skin to contain him. Two guys, then four. Whose blood did he wear on his hands? His own? His foes? He didn’t care. More. He needed more screams that weren’t his own… cries that weren’t hers.

- Finally someone managed to connect with his eye and he was almost giddy from the sting of their right hook. Yes. Yes. He needed this.

“Saeran! What the hell?” Oh. The actor. Great.

“Fuck off Zen.” “No. Stop. STOP! What are you doing- hey buddy get off of him I got this handled- why are you attacking these people?” “Fuck them and fuck you. I don’t answer to you.” “What would MC think of this? She’s been by your side and helped you through all these years and you repay her by deciding to on a crazy free for all?”

- At the mention of her name, a flurry of emotions passed over his face. Anger. So much anger. Until it subsided into a frown, and then a shuddering breath and a chocked sob.

“It doesn’t matter what that woman thinks-” “Woman?!”

“She’s dead.” “What?!” “She… she will be. She’s good as dead. She’s sick. Dying. She’s leaving me behind so … it doesn’t matter what she thinks or does from this point out because.. it’s me. Again it’s just gonna be me so you can go to hell and she can too.”

- Zen’s eyes softened at the sight before him. Of course. Of course. If MC was his girlfriend and she told him she was going to pass away… well… he couldn’t blame Saeran. He might have done even worse.

“Saeran, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want your pity asshole.” “What can I… is there anything…” “Shut up! I was doing just fine without you. Without all of you. Leave me the fuck alone.”

Then why are you crying Saeran. You say all of this as tears stream down your face. “Okay then. Back to it.”

- Saeran stared at him in shock as Zen put up his fists and crouched down to a defensive position.

“The fuck you doing?” “Fighting you. This was helping you said, fighting me. So come on. Fight me. Hurt me. Whatever. I can take it.”

- Saeran stared at him as if he were the one in torn clothes and covered in blood.

- “If this is something I can do to get you back to normal so you can get back to MC and help her, then this is the least I can do. So come on. Fight me.” “N-no.” “Come on man, I’m a little rusty but I can do this.” “I said no!”

- “You’re hurting right? That’s why you want to hurt others. I get it. I’ve been there. I’ve done this too. Let it out, let it out on me, don’t hurt anyone else. I’m here for you.”

- Saeran stepped back as he made to lift his hands… only to slump back down at his sides as he began to cry in earnest. His motives easily revealed, his adrenaline whittled back to nothing. Zen straightened up and dropped his fists. “Let’s go get you cleaned up. You can’t go back to MC like that.” “I can’t go back to MC at all.” “Don’t be stupid. That’s where you belong. Hurry up, it’s getting really late now, we can’t have her all alone at home in your neighbourhood. She’d probably be looking for you if you stay out much later.”

- She was just about to leave when she found him standing at the front door. She had her jacket half on and her keys dangling from her mouth. Eyes puffy, red, sore. Still. Still she worried about him, looked out for him. Saeran swallowed up the regret that bubbled in his throat and stepped forward, drawing the dazed woman into his embrace. “I’m sorry.” “Saeran-” “I… I wasn’t ready to hear about you. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready but… it wasn’t right what I did and I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you and your father-” “-Mother” “Right. Yeah. I’m sorry. What can I do? What can we do?” “… Dinner? Let’s have some dinner first… after that.. I don’t know either.”

- MC didn’t take the new job that was still offered to her. He didn’t blame her, who would want to stay in an office job stuck doing the same boring thing day in and out when you had only a few months to… well… office work was never his cup of tea in the first place.

- “Saeran. Let’s go to Japan.”

“Huh?” “And then let’s go to China. And then maybe we can go to Europe… and maybe to South America? Oh and the Caribbean!” “Wha- what are you talking about MC?” “I want to see the world and I want to see it with you while I can. I don’t want the rest of my life to be just going to the doctors and going to RFA meetings. I want to experience everything I can.” Saeran could feel his heart break. This was what she wanted, this was her final wish. He could never deny her this when it was so easy for him to grant.

“Sure MC. Let’s go to Japan. Let’s go wherever you want.”

- They travelled through sky and through the seas, experienced culture and food and yes they even made a friend or two. However there was no denying, the travel was taking its toll on her. She was fading. She was tired.

“Saeran… I want to show you where I grew up… is that okay? I’d like to go home.” “Uh yes, yes of course. We can go wherever you want.”

- It was a beautiful town where she had grown up, she often talked about it when he was going through withdrawals or woke up from a particularly nasty nightmare. She would talk about the small city and about the children who would still play out in streets until their parents called them back home. It was idyllic, so picturesque, he had regretted not taking her up on her previous requests to go there back in the past. It was the perfect place for her to choose to die.

- They had found themselves atop her favourite hill, under a large apple tree she once described as her first friend to him. She amused him with more stories of her childhood and how this tree had been integral to so many of her memories, from seeing her first scraped knee, to her first kiss. She told him of her memories of him and how she had pictured that if they ever did marry, it would be right here underneath its branches, their wedding date carved into the trunk to preserve their story. “….And what would happen after that?...” “…MC?...”

- Yet another part of her life spent with the tree that only he was able to remember for her. “And then... when our first child is born we’d come back and etch their birthday beneath our wedding date… we would live a life of adventure and… you would want for nothing. We could do whatever you wanted. We could go where ever you wanted. We could do anything MC. Our story would have been… it would have been something amazing.”

- He found the lump, as so many partners did.

- She hadn’t felt anything off and was lax in checking and… he was the one who found it. During a time they were stealing so Lucy wouldn’t be able to disturb them. They loved being parents, of course they did but sometimes… it was nice to be lovers and not just parents.

- When he cupped her breast and squeezed and a sweet sigh came out of her mouth to wordlessly encourage him on and … nothing came… MC opened her eyes and found Jihyun with knitted in concern as he palmed her, concentration on his face born from careful curiosity and not the kind that resulted in her pleasure. “MC… is this… I don’t think this is normal.” “What?” “There’s a lump here.” “That’s not funny Jihyun.” “I’m not trying to be MC.”

- Tests. Prodding and poking and biopsies and… options. So many discussions about options. The only option was for his wife to live, the mother of their child to live.

- It wasn’t easy for either of them to explain to their daughter that mummy was sick but MC always managed to find the right words to say. ‘I am going to come right back and everything will be back to normal’ and ‘no honey this didn’t happen because of you’ and that ‘no matter what, your mummy loves you’.

- The last one, that one sounded a whole lot like goodbye.

- She didn’t stay at the hospital for as long as they thought and… the prognosis was good. They had caught it and it hadn’t spread… they just had to watch it. Mummy could keep loving Lucy for many years to come. Jihyun had time to learn how to be funny. She could come back home.

- Seven years. Every year they would test her to make sure it hadn’t returned… it was the final year she was meant to be tested this way… she was home free.

- Except it wasn’t a lump in her breast. It was a growth in her kidney and in her liver. Further testing proved it was in her lungs and in her bones. In her bones. It had taken root and…

- Damn it.

- No. It didn’t matter. She was going to fight, she was going to do everything she could to stay with her family. They hadn’t had enough time together yet and MC was no stranger to doing things the hard way.

- The second time around explaining it to Lucy was much more difficult. She was older, she knew about the world and the pain it held for so many people. That illness could take people away from you and not just for a month tucked away in hospital… but forever. There was still the “I am going to come right back and everything will be back to normal’ and ‘no honey this didn’t happen because of you’ and that ‘no matter what, your mummy loves you’. Although this time there was also having to answer, “Mummy… are you going to die?”

- She couldn’t answer her, not how she wanted to.

- “I am going to do everything in my power not to.”

- Jihyun found himself jealous that even then, she always knew what to say.

- The treatment was… it felt like she was dying. She didn’t know what she preferred. The first round resulted in some bloating and some fatigue, this time fighting the disease left her unable to stomach anything, the feeling of nausea never leaving her. MC could barely keep her eyes open and most of the time she spent with her family and friends was with her fast asleep. Her loved ones having to be content with accompanying her as she dreamed.

- However throughout all of it, all the pain she endured, she knew she had Jihyun. Jihyun who juggled taking care of Lucy and helping her get to school and help with her homework and spend the rest of his day by her side. He would read to her and bring in his sketchbook to draw her when she wasn’t looking- and sometimes when she was. He would pick up their daughter and let her spend time with MC, to soak in as much quality time they could before taking her home and making sure she had dinner and went to bed before coming back to spend more time his wife, until the nurses would usher him out as he had, once again, stayed past visiting hours.

- He was the glue keeping them altogether, he was the rock that would prop them all up- steadfast and strong. Unyielding and unnerved. He had faith that it would be alright, she was going to beat this. She had to.

- Then one day he was told he could not visit her; that she had developed a strong infection and with her immune system so compromised… she couldn’t afford to get any sort of sickness. She couldn’t fight off a cold to literally save her life.

- They were separated for weeks. Only the sound of her weak voice at the other end of the line to ease both him and Lucy and fell too short of what he would call a cold comfort. He knew all too well how her voice cracked when she lied… and it would always crack when she said she was feeling much better and it wouldn’t be too much longer until they were reunited.

- When she had finally stabilised enough for him to return, the nurses had urged that it should only be him to visit and that he would need to prepare Lucy for the next time she could come along. He had only wished they had given him the same courtesy.

- How could she have lost so much weight since the last time he saw her? How could her cheeks have fallen and her skin turn into such a sickly grey pallor that it physically hurt him to look at her- but it hurt even more to turn away. “I’m so sorry Jihyun.” “Why… why are you apologising for?” “I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it back home.” “Don’t- don’t say that. Don’t say those kinds of things. You had a rough patch and you’re fighting through it. Things will get better, they will.”

- MC smiled at him, the same pitying smile that so many of the nurses and doctors gave him as he walked the hospital halls. “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

- Fight with me damn it. Show me that fire. You have so much to fight for.

- The following day, even with all the preparation Jihyun had tried to give Lucy… their daughter had cried upon the first sight of her mother. MC inviting Lucy to come upon the bed for a cuddle as Jihyun slipped away into the bathroom for him to cry in one of the stalls.

- He was the rock, their pillar of strength, their anchor. He couldn’t let them see him break down.

- A week later he found MC awake in her bed, sitting up and writing in a book, her smile weak but true when she heard him come through the door. He placed a kiss on her temple and asked her what she was working on, her smile deepening but the words sealed behind her lips. “Can you please take a photo of me? Everyday?” “But… I don’t have my camera with me.” “Oh… well can you please draw my picture and date it each day?” “Of course.” “But not… not how I know you’re doing it. Don’t make me pretty-” “Now MC you are very pretty-” “No. Not your fake pretty where you draw my position but how I used to look like. I want you to draw me as I am. Truthfully and with no pretence.” “...Why?” “I need you to. Please. For me.” He wanted to scream. “For you, anything.”

- So he would draw her. Her hair slowly falling away, her body shrinking away to bone all the while as she wrote. She wrote and wrote and slept and threw up and wrote and slept. While he woke up, attended to Lucy, drew MC, cried alone, drew his wife some more and came home sleep to do it all over again.

- He was burning out. The time pretending to be strong shaving away the layers from him, cutting him down to his last threads. Something was going to give but he couldn’t afford to break down now. Lucy needed him, he was her father. MC needed her, she was his wife and she was sick… he couldn’t be selfish… he could do this. He was their rock, their pillar of strength, their anchor.

- He was broken.

- He hadn’t realised how much until he had received a call from Jumin. It was well past 6pm… but how could that have been… he had left MC’s side at 3pm to pick up Lucy from school. Yet there he was, in the car with the key in the ignition, engine still and cold. How did he lose more than three hours? What had happened? Did he fall asleep? Blackout? He didn’t feel rested, he didn’t think he would feel rested even after 20 years asleep. “Jihyun, where are you? What has happened to you?” “Um.. I’m at the hospital.” “MC, is she okay? Has something worse happened?” “Uh no… not that I know… what’s the matter Jumin, how can I help you?” “The matter? Nothing I guess. Lucy’s school called me as no one had come to pick her up and I’ve taken her home with me as I found no one at your house. I thought it best she stay with me in case anything had happened so I could take care of her.” “Th-thank you Jumin. Truly. That was very kind of you and I know you’re so busy lately. I’m sorry to put you out, I’ll come right away-”

“Put me out? No, not at all. I don’t spend enough time with Lucy and I was more worried that I couldn’t find you.” “Thank you Jumin.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” “N-no. It’s fine. We’re fine. Just must have fallen asleep in the car after visiting with MC.” “You’re not alone in this you know? You act as if you don’t have the means to ask for help-” “I don’t need to pay a nanny to look after my child or a maid to clean my house-” “I wasn’t talking about money. You have us. You have me. You are my best friend and I am always here for you, even if it’s as simple as looking after Lucy after school.” “…” “Or sitting with MC after work.” “That’s not necessary.” “Lucy told me she hears you crying at night.” “What?” “She told me in the car on the way back home. That she wanted to know how she could help make you happier. She said that you smile when she’s looking at you but when she goes to bed- she hears you crying. She’s a very perceptive girl Jihyun.” “Oh my god… I had… I didn’t know she could.”

“It’s okay you know.” “What do you mean?” “She also said that she felt a little better when you did… because it meant that she could too. But she didn’t like you crying alone, because she knows you’re pretending to be strong just for her and she doesn’t need that, she just wanted to know if there was something she could do to make you happier.”

- Jihyun couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes and onto his lap. He was grateful that he seemed to be alone in the carpark so no one had to see a man wailing in his car… though he understood that given the location he was probably not the first to do so and certainly not the last.

- He wept and allowed himself to release his anguish. For an hour, without a word spoken, Jumin let his friend cry and not once did he draw his ear away from the phone.

“Jumin… thank you.” “Anytime. Now, come back when you’re able I’ll have the cook fix you a plate and keep it warm until you’re here. We can all have dinner and you can get some rest and tomorrow, take your time with Lucy at home and I’ll keep MC company until you are able to spend time with her yourself. If you are unable to I will ask our friends to sit with MC. We can all take turns in keeping Lucy company after school too- or perhaps you would let me just buy this hospital and let them move you in and-” “Jumin. No. No thank you.” “Well. The offer is there should you wish to take it.” “You’re a good friend Jumin.” “Of course I am. Now come by, your daughter is monopolising all of Elizabeth the Third’s time and I would very much like to have my cat back.”

- He was their rock, their pillar, their anchor. But he himself had his own rock, pillar and anchor in each of their friends. In his sweet, kind daughter.

- MC… would never get better, would never come home. They had accepted that, silently acknowledging that this would be where she had to stay… her condition requiring care that she could not receive at their family home. So he made her room as much of a home away from home for her; filled with pictures and flowers and trinkets that made her comfortable… made him and Lucy comfortable too. It was easier to focus on the person and not the machines hooked up to her when the room smelled like home, felt like home.

- They were quickly running out of time. She couldn’t sit up on her own, she was in and out of consciousness but still… she wrote in the book as best as she could. So Jihyun would still draw.

- It was when he was putting the final touches of his drawing one evening before leaving to pick up Lucy from Yoosung’s apartment, that he heard it. The most horrible sound he had dreaded to hear… no more beeps… just one, long, relentless tone.

- He didn’t get to say goodbye. He didn’t get to say he loved her or that he would look after Lucy. He was so focused on his work and watching the clock the make sure he wasn’t late that he missed her very last moment on earth. He had nodded mindlessly when someone talked to him, he wasn’t paying attention. All he heard was silence.

- So small and a whisper of what she used to be, her could lift her with one arm though she lay heavy within it, limp and gone. Jihyun allowed his hand to trace over her skin, something she hadn’t really allowed him to do near the end. Too self-conscious of herself to let him indulge in the feeling. The texture was different but the warmth stirring in his heart was the same. This was the face of his wife, her neck, her arm.

- He was thankful that he had the chance to draw her everyday as she had asked, because his hands would never forget the curves of her face even as they changed through the years. She had become muscle memory. Beautiful to him, in every way and every day he was blessed to spend with her. He was just filled with regret that she didn’t get to hear it from him at the end.

- He lay her back down, tucking her back under the blankets to prepare her for when Lucy and Yoosung arrived.

- As he moved the sheets, a book fell to the side.

- He opened the book to find a page for each day she had been in the hospital. Starting from the first day she was admitted so many years ago when Lucy didn’t really understand what was happening and they were all still counting down the days of her return back home.

“Thank you for letting me be your Mother.” “Thank you for choosing me and Lucy every day and not letting the past dictate your future.”

“Thank you for letting Saeyoung come with some snacks, hospital food, even the fancy kind, still gets boring.”

Each day was filled with one or many things that she was thankful for. Even (especially) on her bad days. Things she was thankful for with him, with Lucy and from their friends. Jihyun flicked through to the final page, dated for that day, a simple line of scratchy writing; her beautiful script changing into plain, almost childlike text with her lack of motor coordination and strength. “Thank you, my love, for seeing past the sickness and seeing me. Every day. Always.”

- And that’s when he understood, he finally got why she got him to draw her portrait every day. Even through all the pain and suffering, she could find good in the bad. She wanted them all to know that even through it all, she was thankful for them and that it was because of these things that she could endure it. Along with her words, his pictures were a testament of her journey and the role everyone had played in her life.

- He would need to read a page every day for a long time, perhaps with Lucy or one of his friends- whoever needed this comfort. Knowing his daughter would only be minutes away from having to say goodbye to her mother, he opened up a random page and felt himself smile, even amidst his grief.

“Thank you all for facing the bad days with me, know that even in my sleep I knew you were there with me. Know that one way or another, I will be there with you.”

- Then he wept with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed because-

- MC would always know what to say.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme headcanon #jumiin x mc #saeyoung x mc #saeran x mc #v x mc #jihyun x mc #saeyoung #saeran #v #jihyun kim #angst #mysmes

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

For the AU drabbles, can you do Renji ending up in Spirit Society and meeting Tengu!Rukia and Tengu!Byakuya?

I described the bones of this AU in this art post (you should probably read it first).

Given that I did all that work up front, instead of writing something that makes sense, I am going to be very self-indulgent and write this out-of-context Feels Fiesta where Tengu!Rukia doesn’t want Regular!Renji to go home.

Read on ao3 (features the pictures from the first post) or ff.net

🐦 ✨ 💔

Rukia staggered over to the library table, carrying far too many rolled-up maps. She attempted to tip the first one gently onto the table, but instead, half a dozen rolled out of her arms. “Watch out!” she yelped helplessly.

The Shinigami Abarai Renji had exceptional reflexes, though, and he deftly scooped his ink stone out of danger as a map rolled past the spot where it had sat just a moment before.

“Sorry,” Rukia apologized, her feathers wilting. She wanted so badly to be a help for once, and instead, she couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing herself.

Renji flashed her one of his brilliant smiles. She wondered if all shinigami smiled so freely. It seemed a strange quality for a god of death to possess, but very little about Renji comported with her conception of what death gods should be like. The Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo smiled often as well. Rukia had assumed that might be due to his human half, but perhaps ushering souls to the afterlife was not such a grim occupation as one might expect.

“Don’t worry,” Renji reassured her, the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkling. “I am a champion ink-spiller, so I’m pretty good at avoiding it. Thanks for digging these out for me. Were you able to find any that show the old kitsune trade route you mentioned?”

“I’ll have to check,” Rukia sighed. “I’m afraid they weren’t very well organized. My brother’s servant, Wakame Ambassador--”

Renji made a face like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“You must not make fun of Wakame Ambassador!” Rukia warned in a hushed voice. “He is just a magical construct, but he does have feelings!” She frowned at the maps. “It’s not his fault Brother didn’t put a whole lot of brains in him.”

“I would never,” Renji reassured her gently, “make fun of Wakame Ambassador.” He fiddled with his brush. “He just… reminds me of something from back home.”

Rukia knew she should get to work looking for the map he wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. She was so curious about his Soul Society, and he was so close-mouthed about it. “Do you miss it?”

“Hmm?”

“Soul Society,” she said, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Do you miss it?”

“Oh,” Renji replied. “A little. I haven’t really been gone that long, and I do want to help you folks out. I am starting to get these little pangs, though.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t’ve expected to get one over Wakame Ambassador.”

“They must miss you,” Rukia pressed. “You’re a very important person, there, right?”

Renji let out a sharp guffaw. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “But you said the captain you serve is a powerful clan head and a great warrior! Aren’t you the leader of his armies?”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “I guess you could say I have an important job, that’s true. It’s not quite the same as being an important person.”

It made no sense, in Rukia’s opinion. She had never seen swordwork to match his, and then he knew shinigami magic as well. He spoke so knowledgeably of strategy and tactics, he must be a scholar of warfare. Yet, he interacted so easily with the tengu troops. He was a natural leader in the way she wasn’t. Not that Brother would ever let her lead troops into battle in any case. “You know,” she started slowly. “Brother is very impressed with you.”

Renji raised one skeptical eyebrow.

“He is!” Rukia insisted. “And… if you are not appreciated in your homeland, I think that Brother would be most happy to have you stay! He would make you his war leader, I am sure of it!”

A very strange look came over Renji’s face. Rukia found herself talking faster and faster, as if her words could outpace his doubts.

“Demons notwithstanding, the Spirit Society is a wonderful place to live, and the tengu are the best of its tribes. I know you would feel self-conscious to not have a set of handsome wings or magnificent horns, but you have such interesting barring on your skin and your plumage is a lovely color. You would be very popular nonetheless!”

“Plumage?” Renji echoed blankly, his hand going to his hair.

“The costumes you and Kurosaki Ichigo fashioned were very clever. They would not fool another tengu, of course, but…” Rukia trailed off, unable to put into words the way her heart had sped up when she had seen him wearing the dark pinions and red-tipped horns of a tengu warrior. Of course, if he had been born a tengu, she was sure he would not have such common coloring. She could imagine him with a fine set of double wings, like her brother’s, blood red, tipped in black, and with great curling horns, like the woodcuts of the mighty warriors in her history books. “Or maybe there’s a spell that could grow you wings!” she realized suddenly. “I am very good at magic, you know, I could look through my spellbooks.”

Suddenly, his big, warm hand with its funny, blunt fingernails encased her own. “Rukia,” he cut her off. “Thank you. That’s a very generous offer, and believe me, I’m flattered.”

Rukia looked into his face. With its sharp nose and narrow, beady eyes, it was so clear that he belonged among her beautiful bird tribe, not a bunch of boring, ugly ghosts. It was unfair. “But?”

He shrugged. “But I gotta go home.”

There was a long silence. “Why?”

“Well, I got my friends, my squad, my captain. People who depend on me.”

“People who care for you?”

“Er, right.”

He hesitated. If he hadn’t hesitated, Rukia would have held her tongue. But it seemed, in that hesitation, there was a chance, and she felt like she had to take it. “There… there could be people here who would care for you, given time. Maybe there are already.” She took a deep breath. “I would like you to stay.”

A deeply pained look came over his face.

Rukia’s gut plummeted. It had been a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I should not have said anything.”

Renji’s face hardened. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and his hand tightened on hers so hard it hurt a little. “It’s not easy to put yourself out there, but you’ve always been braver than me.”

Rukia frowned. What could he possibly mean by that?

“It’s really hard for me to say this. You have no idea how hard. I like you, too, you know. I like you so much. But there’s… my heart’s already spoken for, Rukia. It has been for a long time. She’s… she’s a lot like you. Tough and clever and beautiful and the best friend you can imagine. And that’s part of why it could never be fair to you if I… if you and I...”

Of course. Of course he already had someone, how could she have been so foolish? But why hadn’t he mentioned this before? And why did his voice crack so when he spoke of her? “She does not return your love,” Rukia realized, the words escaping her mouth before she could catch them.

Rukia expected Renji’s face to look even more pained, but instead, his brow softened and his mouth curved into a fond smile. “I dunno, actually. It’s… it’s never been the right time or the right place. We’ve been through a lot together, though, her and me, and I know that she’d miss me if I didn’t come back.” He snorted ruefully. “I’d give every kan I got to hear Ichigo try to explain to her why I didn’t, though.”

Suddenly, a number of things he had said clicked together in her head. And it had not been wishful thinking, she realized. His smile truly was brighter for her, his gaze softer.

“It’s the other me, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Renji’s face stiffened, and then he sighed. “Of course it is. I can’t manage to keep stuff from you in any world, it seems.”

“I met her once, you know,” Rukia noted coolly, despite the turmoil in her chest. “The last time Kurosaki Ichigo was here.” She paused. “She did not seem a fool.”

Renji laughed, and patted her hand boisterously. The tension between them released like steam from a kettle. “Believe me, she’d have to be, to put up with me after all the grief I give her.”

Rukia regarded him under lidded eyes as she reached for one of the maps. “You already told me that she resembles me. Do not pretend she does not pay you back four-fold.

Renji regarded her right back. “I won’t.”

Rukia’s heart felt tender and achy, but warm, as well. The other Rukia must love him back, she was sure of it, even if she couldn’t say so. The alternative was too sad to bear. “I wonder,” she sighed, “why there is no version of you in this world.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Renji replied. “There probably is. He’s just not a tengu. You folks are way too elegant and clean-cut for the likes of me. It’s an honest miracle I ever met my Rukia in the first place.”

Rukia gaped. “Surely not! You are a noble warrior! Strong and handsome and polite!”

Renji gave out a bark of laughter. “That’s only because I’ve spent a long time trying to get this way. You got any nue in Spirit Society? Or ookami?” He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure I’m even classy enough to be a wolf spirit. Inugami?”

“We have all of those,” Rukia replied, bristling. But the dog demons are not to be trusted! Brother says they are barely better than the kitsune!”

“Mmm,” Renji replied with a shrug. “Right. Well. Like I said. Never the right time. Never the right place.” He turned back to the war record he’d been looking through.

Rukia’s face fell. She felt like she had failed him, somehow. Was it something about her brother? He could be a bit… insular to be sure, but the inugami were the very worst of the… dog... Rukia blinked and she traced a finger over the map in front of her. “The inugami are not the only dog tribe. Here, on the other side of the mountain. It’s hainu territory, which is why Brother doesn’t want to travel through it, but it has to be safer than that old kitsune trail. The hainu are an honorable people, if a bit unsophisticated, and they, too, would be affected if the demons were to swarm the valley. If they allied with us, I am sure we could fight off Grimmjow’s forces! You are a genius, Abarai Renji!”

“Me? What did I--?”

Rukia jumped to her feet. “Come. Brother won’t like it, but I am sure he will listen to you!”

“Why would you think that?!” Renji yelped as she hauled him from the library. Suddenly his eyebrows drew together. “Wait, this actually isn’t a bad idea. Do you think it would work? Have you ever actually met a hainu?”

“Well, no,” Rukia admitted. “But at least they have wings, how bad could they be?”

🐕 🤝 🐦

A/N: Okay, I know you asked for Byakuya, who… did not appear in the previous scene. So here’s Byakuya omake. A Byak-omake, if you will.

“What do you mean, the other me does not adorn himself with beautiful feathers?”

“Well, you’ve got a whole bird motif goin’ on, he’s not much of a bird guy. I mean, he likes birds. I guess. He just doesn’t dress like one.”

“How does he accessorize, then? Does he have a lush cloak of fine velvet?”

“Er… he’s got a haori?”

“Ah! Is it richly embroidered?”

“It’s got a six on the back.”

“A six.”

“Yeah, like the number six.”

“...”

“He said he’s thinking of adding some tassels? Gold tassels?”

“Gold tassels are good. How many?”

“He wasn’t specific at the time, but I’m guessing… two?”

“...Two?”

“Isn’t two enough? It’s two more than anyone else has.”

“...Two?!”

“...”

“Wakame Ambassador! Fetch my traveling cape and headdress! I must travel to the Soul Society to teach my other self how to dress properly!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #spirit society #i worked so hard to avoid actually referring to the nominal 'plot'#and then i had to end it #and i was like 'ah i'll just loop it back into the plot'#the 'plot'#that definitely exists #riiiiiiiiiight #anyway i'm in love with hainu now #they are DOGGIES with WINGS #what if renji were a DOGGIE DEMON with WINGS?#(and no shirt)#rukia would simply die

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lovethisletters · 3 years

Text

I miss you

Idk how to even start this except for: I'm so SO SO sorry @melyaliz thank u for being so patient with me 😖💕✨ this year has been hard for all of us, online school is much more difficult than I initially expected but I would keep trying my best! Hopefully you will grant me the possibility of keep writing this amazing characters of yours even though your experience with me as a writer hasn't been the greatest :c , then again thank you for your patience, happy holidays! And happy new year! Hopefully this will be a better year for all of us. 💕✨

Faith is @melyaliz OC!

It started a few weeks ago, his obsession. Tim had been trying to get information regarding Black Mask's newest plan.

—I trust you, Tim— were Bruce's last words before leaving to attend urgent matters with the Justice League, this time in space.

And since then, he worked more diligently than ever before: going undercover and placing microphones and trackers at locations in the false-face society, interrogating thugs, hours glued to his computer trying to figure something out.

While this behavior was not unusual for Tim, Faith began to worry ... call it a hunch, perhaps a gut feeling but something told her this would not end well; however, she tried to bury it and pretend that it was simply her usual concern for Tim's habits and that once it was all over, things would calm down.

But the end was only the true beginning of things.

That night Tim was in the Batcave as usual, and the rest of the family were preparing to patrol, when they suddenly heard a scream of anger and frustration.

—No! No! No! Fuck you!—

Silence invaded the mansion and was only interrupted by the sound of Batmobile's tires screeching and running at full speed.

—What's the deal with him? —Damian (already in his Robin suit) asked while trying to look through out the window, but the vehicle was already long gone.

Faith wasted no time and sprinted towards the Batcave.

And there it was, on the screen of the Batcomputer a giant, green, question mark. Riddler.

In the morning the news reported Riddler's arrest at the hands of Red Robin but it wasn't until 4 days later that Tim returned to the mansion; Physically he was fine but his ego and self-confidence was beyond bruised after what had happened and the information he managed to gather from Riddler's lair:

Tim's efforts had been all in vain, Riddler had caught up to Black Mask's suspicious activity recently and also to the fact that Batman seemed to have disappeared, so he devised a plan, surprisingly alongside Cobblepot in a deal (the details of which Tim was unaware) that seemed beneficial to both. Riddler started a little investigation on his own trying to find blackmail material ... until ... he hit the jackpot. One of his undercover henchmen had been interrogated by Tim alerting Riddler of Red Robin conducting an investigation as well, so ... He did a little digging and found out that Red Robin had been longer in this. So why not just take it? That night Tim had unveiled the last piece of the puzzle in Black Mask's plans, when suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the computer started to go crazy, sending every piece of information to (apparently ... but not really ) different directions ending with the screen showing the infamous green question mark.

Out of frustration Tim tracked down Riddler, throwed him on blackgate, recovered most but not all the stolen information and piced it all together.

He felt enraged, stupid, mocked, useless. Why haven't he realized about Riddler spying on him? He was foolish! The safety of the Batfamily could have been in danger have he been even more careless than he already was! His brothers, His mentor, His family ... His beloved Faith ... he had disappointed them all.

Everything went down hill from there.

His bad self-destructive habits went from 60 to 1000, He talked, ate and slept much MUCH less and although various family members had tried to converse with him, they were simply ignored, including Faith.

At least 2 hours had passed, she watched; his fingers danced fleetingly and aggressively on the keyboard, his green eyes glued to the monitor, he hadn't looked at her even once since she entered the room so she wondered if he even knew she was there.

—Tim, you haven't eaten anything ... wanna go whit us at belly burger? Dick said is his treat! —Her tone was slow and gentle trying not to disturb him.

—I'm good, you go — He wasn't ... He was getting thinner, and to be honest he didn't even remember if he had eaten that day or the day before.

—Then ... you want us to bring you something? anything? —She insisted but only got silence as a response.

In other situations, Faith would have been a little bit more aggressive with his approach: nagging him a little, blocking his view of the computer by standing in front of it or even carrying him out of his room making him blush wildly; but this time was different. Faith could tell how much the words Bruce said before leaving meant to him. Normally Bruce would put Dick or Jason in charge of situations like this (because he knew how "diligent" Tim could be with himself), but ... this time he trusted Tim to handle it; I have tried harder than ever before, but by concentrating on one thing he had forgotten to see the big picture. He felt like a failure, unworthy and she knew it.

She knew him better than anyone, better than himself, she could practically feel his pain.

Faith always knew about Tim's self-esteem issues. He always tried to hide them, he didn't like to see himself as vulnerable, especially having the responsibility of a vigilante life, but she learned about them since the beginning of their relationship: He was so nervous to talk to her, make extra efforts on their dates and once she heard him confess to Jason: "How can someone so beautiful actually like me?" Jason had laughed and mocked him by saying "I was wondering the same" in his eyes it was only a joke but this small comment made Tim even more insecure about his blossoming relationship. Faith noticed ... He was a people pleaser, always complying with everyone else's request in fear of being left alone, with her it was no different, several times Tim agreed to Faith's wishes even if he wasn't all that ... excited about them: like that time they went cave-diving ... it was a mess ... So in their next date Faith asked "What do YOU wanna do?" he said "Whatever you want is fine" but she wasn't having it, a relationship is mutual and she wanted him to know that "Nope, this time you pick!"

And it evolved from there: She being patient with him, letting him know that he did not have to comply with all his suggestions as if they were orders and that having limits is fine and him being gentle and understanding with her, letting her know that she could trust him with everything.

And now ... they felt just so far appart ... like he was no longer by her side.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily ... she was stubborn and he had told her millions of times that he adored that about her.

Tim flinched a little when he felt her arms gently circling his waist, his chin resting on her head before he gave a chaste kiss to her tousled curls and let out a small sigh.

—Timothy. Jackson. Drake ... I miss you — People tend to forget how much simple and straight forward words can make you feel, long and tiring speeches can bury the feelings we are so desperately trying to convey, so when Tim heard those words ... He understood, he understood how distant he has been from her, how much she had waited for him, patiently and understanding of his feelings.

—I-I-I'm sorry ... Faith-

He could only return the hug from his chair, allowing himself to cry, taking out all his frustration as she stroked his hair moving him closer to his chest so that he could listen to his heart and regulate his breathing to the rhythm of it, preventing Tim from starting to hyperventilate.

—I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, please forgive me, please ...— He wouldn't stop apologizing profusely, like he had committed the worst of crimes.

—It's okay, love ... I'm always here for you — She said, taking his face in her hands, wiping away his tears gently with her thumb like he had done with her a thousand times before.

—I will always be here for you ...

Me again! As an apology for taking so long and as a gift for the holidays here is this:

#fics #batfam #batfamily #faith o'neal #tim drake x oc #tim drake imagine

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astraeass · 3 years

Text

[2] start once again;

[cross-posted in ao3 • fem reader]

previous chapter

pairing: levi ackerman/reader

warnings: cursing

words: 3625

Summary:

first day of training meant new faces that you will not forget, and maybe even new friendships

"Welcome to your soon to be worst years of your lives!"

Nice, what a way to start. You knew that the training corps wouldn’t go easy on you, of course not. This warm welcome message did not surprise you at all. All of you were lined up, organized like pawns in a board of chess that was about to start.

Claude Duvalier, their instructor was a very intimidating man, tall with wide shoulders and muscular, the perfect definition of a rough man. You looked at your sides searching for any type of reaction of your fellow companions. Just to be sure you weren’t the only one that wasn’t scared at all.

However, you weren’t as careful as you thought, because your instructor apparently noticed how you got distracted, and wasn’t listening to his longass boring and repetitive discourse, and it was sickening him.

"HEY! You, the girl in the second line" Claude pointed at you with a deadly glare in his orbs.

Instantly you looked up and started at his pale eyes, you knew he was talking about you, it was impossible to ignore those widening eyes. You were used to not let anyone intimidate you at all, not caring what their position in society is neither their size or experience. But his dark aura was difficult for you to accept this time.

"Yes, sir" you instantly saluted and answered firmly, sweat sliding through your forehead.

"Would you be able to repeat every single word I told up there?" He hissed, knowing your next answer already.

You gulped, trying the make the movement as fast as possible, you shacked your head as response "I-I wouldn’t be able to do so, sir" you mentally palmed yourself when your heard your stutter. C'mon [Y/N] you need to show how strong you really are, don’t let be intimidated by a piece of shit.

The instructor seemed to read minds because his fatal ambience just deepened into you. If glares could kill, this man would have assassinated you at least five times without stopping. But you didn’t let the scared part of you to show and waited for him to talk again.

"What’s your name, you little bastard?" He said rather loudly, but apparently coming back to normal, his usual shitty look not being that shitty anymore and that surprised you and urged you to answer.

"[Y/N]... [L/N], sir" this was your first time telling your real name to someone, you imagined this moment to be special but fate hated you and your situation right know is being humiliated by your instructor in front of tons of people of your age. [Y/N] you were supposed to make friends this time, now what? Giving a weak first impression wasn’t in your plan.

"[L/N], why the fuck are you here?!" He next said, increasing his already loud voice, it even hurt your ears since he was getting closer to you, wanting to break your hard shell and make you fall or your knees crying, humiliating you even more. You weren’t one to give up like that though.

"I am here to help humanity with the threat outside the walls, sir!" You responded once again, slightly raising your voice with him.

"Why are you doing it, [L/N]?!"

"Because I want to know what’s beyond the walls!"

Silence.

Claude grabbed the collar of your white shirt tightly and lifting you up in a way your feet weren’t touching the dusty floor below you. A loud gasp escaping your mouth when he did so, you were about to loose your cold and strong composure to in front of everyone.

"That’s a whole load of bullshit...! You’re here because humanity needs your and everyone’s help, not for a stupid childish desire, you piece of shit!" He shouted in your face, you could even feel some of his saliva sticking to you cheek by the way he’s holding you. You just decided to shut your eyes with force, praying for this to finish soon.

When everything went on silence again, you opened your eyes meeting Claude's cold and fiery gaze, he seemed to search something inside your eyes, perhaps any sign that you were about to shit yourself only to make more fun of you, but he never found it, he could only see the determined glare of a young woman. He just clicked his tongue forcefully and let your collar out of his grip.

The distance between your stance up in the air and the floor was quite large, but you somehow were able to steady your form with somewhat grace, that maybe helped your already broken reputation, just in case anyone saw it of course.

By the time you were fixing your messed up shirt and collar, Instructor Duvalier already have found another victim. This time, it was a boy that seemed a little bit younger than you, this kid however didn’t get the same awful treatment as you.

You just rolled your eyes in annoyance. Claude reached another victim after almost throwing the last one. This time it was a petite brunette girl whose hair was tied up in a neatly made braid, she would have seemed too pure for this world if it wasn’t for her piercing pale green orbs. She had a scowl on her face that transmitted irritation.

"Why do you look like you have a stick up your ass, cadet?" Instructor Duvalier growled at her lowly, the girl didn’t even moved her face to meet his gaze like everyone else did, she looked brave, you liked that.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, useless brat!? Answer me cadet!" Claude was growing irritated second by second by the girl's attitude, this will not end up good at all, and you actually feared for the future condition of short girl.

"Mary Rosé, sir" She answered, her voice high tuned and pleasant to hear, exactly what you would have expected in a sweet-looking girl like her, she still didn’t look up thought. Was she scared? You doubted about that.

"Rosé, can you explain me why you had the fucking audacity to ignore me gaze just some seconds ago? Do you think you’re the center of this damn world?!" Claude's expression was covered in anger, however there was an unknown glint in his eyes, you wished you could read his mind, curiosity invading yours.

You couldn’t tell if Mary also saw the small difference in his deep glare but if she did, she apparently didn’t want anyone to know "I don’t, I just didn’t know how to react, I apologize sir" the girl flatly answered. Despite her serious and uninterested appearance, her words sounded honest.

After Mary answered with that simple sentence, Corporal Duvalier moved on to the next cadet. He didn’t ask anything else, and he looked rather... intimidated. In his defense, you admitted to yourself that a simple look of her to your direction would make you piss your pants but that actually made you want to be friends with her even more.

You didn’t notice that you got lost in your thoughts after Instructor Duvalier snapped his calloused fingers snapped in front of you, making you jump where you stood "[L/N], you there cadet?" He said with an annoyed look that you instantly responded with a nod of your head "Yes, sir. I was just thinking."

He snickered, a sarcastic smirk adorning his face "If you zone out like that in middle of an expedition, you’ll be titan food and no later after, titan shit. So you better stay focused, [L/N]" He looked ahead for a short span of time, then back to you, with a determined gaze "C'mon, I told everyone to prepare theirselves, training starts now" and with that, he walked away from your still stunned form.

His order made you look around, and be aware that you were one of the last cadets standing in the main area, so you made the decision to walk away too. However, a certain tall blonde had another plans for you "Clair- Oh, I mean [L/N]!" You turned around when hearing the familiar voice, saying - loudly, almost shouting - your last name.

"Ah, Smith... fancy seeing you here" You said with a teasing tone in your voice and a wave of both of your hands when you saw him near enough. He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a blush of embarrassment in his bright skin. That unusual expression suited him, you thought "Was it that obvious?" He told you with a hint of amusement in his tone, answering your last statement.

You weren’t and currently aren’t close with Erwin Smith, but you needed to be really close minded and out of reality to not know the young man's fond with his idea of what’s beyond the walls. All of your thoughts suddenly reminded you to your current situation, your main goal and why you were doing all of this fucked mess, Smith will be a great acquaintance and help for it.

You were about to continue your conversation with him, but the sudden shout of your Instructor stopped you. Your back was turned to him, so you couldn’t see him burning holes in the back of your head, however, that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel him doing so, and that made you afraid to turn around and meet his gaze more after the personal scolding he did to you.

But you knew you couldn’t stay in that position longer, even Erwin was giving you a glance that screamed 'you’re dead' in every way. Fortunately, for you, Claude was standing in front of the cadets that already came back for the instructions of their ever first training of much many. Duvalier was ready to start talking again "As I said before, the training starts here and right now, so prepare your filthy asses for the worst time of you lives"

It was obvious that the journey to reach to be a scout was everything but easy, you took it easy... at first, and that was already your first wrong move. Everything started with some simple laps that you could easily take the lead of, a large number push-ups and even he gave the opportunities to spar between you and demonstrate the initial physical level of each other. But the intensity increased to the point were even, Erwin, a man with a notable level above average yet he couldn’t feel his own muscles for the end of the day.

"I’m... exhausted" you sighed loudly while carrying your tray of food that contained a liquidly tasteless soup and a piece of bread you were surely you could break someone’s head with. Not so far away from you, walked Erwin with a tired expression in his face "I’m already calling it a day" he agreed with you, eyes closed while grabbing his tray and following you.

Erwin and you spent the training attached by the hip, he sometimes could have easily pass you when running the laps and show off his incredible stamina or finish his push-ups earlier and prove that he had the strength his body showed he could also have gone with some people that you recognized as some of your classmates that you certainly knew Erwin was fond of. But for a reason unknown to you, he kept following you all day.

Not that you were complaining now.

You remember how eager Erwin is with his dream, and how much in common it has with yours, so you were fine with the idea of having Erwin around you. Erasing the thoughts that have been wandering your mind all day, you found a nice empty seat for the both of you and sat down, throwing your tray in the table with little force, feeling Erwin's gaze on you.

"You can sit with me" you said, amused by the sight of his widening bright blue eyes, wondering how could you read his mind that easily without even meeting your own eyes "Ah.. thank you" he said lowly, sitting in front of you with an expecting expression, the orbs you saw earlier, now full of curiosity. You recognized this look from before, when he corrected himself with his now, new knowledge of your last name.

You were already tired as fuck, but the intensity of his deep gaze on you made you even more tired making you sigh for the nth time today, while looking down your watery soup and then up to him, you weren’t surprised when you meet his eyes already looking at you. So you decided that telling him your story will be the end of this awkward and tense ambience. Is not that you trusted him with your life, but the feeling of needing to vent to someone overpowered you.

"Alright, I guess I’ll have to tell you what happened, right?"

;;

A few weeks passed, and the intense training was beginning to give it fruits. You could feel your muscles getting stiffer and you certainly feel very proud about it. Your skills and stamina levels also increased and Erwin's casual advices were a big plus for you. The training was becoming repetitive, even if the intensity changed frequently and some dynamic exercises were added here and there, you wish you could do something more unique.

Erwin and you became closer. At first, when telling him your story made him strangely protective, and his first reaction didn’t help at all, so you became watchful around him. However, his attitude changed when you almost won against him in a sparring session a week after arriving the division. It was like he knew you would be safe by your own, not that you weren’t before, but Erwin knowing where you were raised, he assumed that your experience with spars, little did he know that you could defend yourself easily. The memory making you smile unconsciously.

"Ah.. I didn’t expect that at all"

You giggled remembering that specific moment when you threw him to the ground when he last expected. His stunned expression graven in your mind, often using it to tease him. He still went easy on you and won thought, so you knew that there was still a long way ahead. A cough way too familiar made you jump, completely breaking you free of your thoughts, your face coming pale when remembering where you currently were.

Instructor Claude Duvalier was standing behind you and instantly went stiff when you felt his presence, not daring to look at his probably deadly gaze. So you decided to look ahead you with wide pupils wishing this to end up fast. "[L/N].. could you tell me, what you find funny with me explaining how the fuck we are going to train the with 3D maneuver gear?!" Wait what.

Did you really were that deep in thought to not catch what your instructor was explaining. It wasn’t that he was talking, of course not. You usually give a fuck about what he said when it comes to hear the steps of the common training and the ask Erwin what you needed to do for today, what was important to you is how you missed the 3D maneuver gear explication.

One of the most impressing skills that you admired about the military regiment was how they used such a complicated mechanism to sometimes displace around, and how the majority of them did it with such a grace when you occasionally remember seeing how the military police chased a thief and catching him not long after using the heavy device attached to their hips.

The 3DMG was that device you were the most eager to use and learn. You are shocked with your own self and even angry for how vague you were sometimes. Seeing it that there esas the any type of response from you, Duvalier gave up not missing how your form relaxed instantly and walked ahead you to stand in front of the training corps once again.

"In case someone else is as incompetent as [L/N], what we are training today is how skilled you all will be with your future 3DGM, but before that, we need to see if everyone is going to be stable when using those, so stand your asses and go outside" Claude demanded, making every cadet stand up in an instant walking out to the camp in order.

Some weird tall machines were placed in the front line of the ground. They were formed by three large wood columns that connected at the very top by a metal structure, wide strings attached in both of the ends and finally, those strings tied into a leather belt "Everyone will be trying these rusty machines, the main point is trying to maintain your equilibrium, if you aren’t able to, you’re the fuck out. We don’t accept useless shits here"

In front of you, Nile Dok who you recognize as one of the friends of Erwin, stood in between the wood pillars, attaching the old-looking belt around his waist, a cocky smirk adorning his lips. You didn’t interact with him at all, but enough to know that he’s a proud little bitch. He always remarked about how he’ll be ranked between the 10 best cadets of the division and live a comfortable life as a member of the military police, not that you cared, but the way he always looked for competition - most of the time against Erwin - totally annoyed your usually quiet behavior.

A superior from the training corps stood nearby, while another cadet was preparing to move the handle forward that would lift Nile from the ground and show us all how good he actually is. The cadet moved the handle forward, he looked nervous, ready to carry all the fault if Nile failed to maintain the equilibrium. Your gaze trailed to Nile, his eyes widened when feeling the mechanism working on him. He stumbled backward and looked like he was about to fall, but posed in a way that kept him still, it was a bit impressive, nevertheless that didn’t stop you from laughing at his struggling expression.

You didn’t notice that you were the only one laughing out loud, you could feel the looks of the cadets nearby, it was rare to see you in another expression than your regular serious scowl. Nile hearing your laugh looked up, his already contorted features worsened when meeting your [E/C] orbs and that made you instantly stop, feigning wiping a tear from your eyes and waking away with a wave. You swear hearing his voice insulting you when you walked away, blowing a raspberry, you continued your search for Erwin.

Walking around and trying to not be caught by Instructor Duvalier, you finally found Erwin, standing close another circle of your companions and watching with interest how another cadet was being lift by the 3DMG training mechanics. Walking closer, you were now aware that the cadet Erwin was staring at was Mike Zacharias a tall, dirty blond young man and another of his friends, however, this one wasn’t a little bitch, just a bit weird. He was funny when he wanted though. Mike was way better than Nile, but you still procured to stay a bit far away from him since his sniffing habit always weirded you out, and yourself disliking people breaking your personal space didn’t help at all.

"Hey [Y/N]! Were you able to try the training?" Trailed by your thoughts, you failed to notice that you already reached Erwin's position and situating yourself at his side. You looked up and shook your head with a sigh "Fortunately, I didn’t" Erwin laughed at your answer, petting your head with a teasing smirk in his face, you frowned at him but didn’t make anything to stop his caring treatment.

Behind Erwin, Mike approached both of you, grabbing Erwin's shoulders forcefully and causing him jump thanks to the sudden rough touch. Erwin's hand lifted from your soft [H/C] locks and turned around to punch Mike's arm with some force and even if the taller blonde tried to contain his pain, you clearly saw how he winced at the contact making you giggle again "Ah... answering your questing from before Erwin, nope, I didn’t try it and I’m not looking forward to do it so neither" you said sighing and changing your pose to be more comfortable while standing.

Unfortunately for you, your turn was sooner than you expected and time passing faster than you thought, you were already between the training mechanism as you reached down to grab the belt so you could attach it to your waist tightly, with the hope that if you failed to complete the task, the belt would save you from a nasty fall. Behind you, Mary with a neutral expression was ready to pull the handle forward and besides you the Instructor glared at you with an unreadable expression in his face. Seeing your hesitation, Claude scoffed shaking his head while looking at the ground "C'mon [L/N], we do me have all this weakass"

You nodded rapidly, sending Mary a determined gaze and a thumbs up as a sign that you were ready. She understood and moved the handle with all of her energy, it was cute to see her, a normally strong-headed girl, struggle with a simple task. Your thoughts were interrupted when your feet didn’t feel the ground anymore, your pupils widening in surprise. Little did you know that you have stayed up for a while already, everyone looking at you in disbelief but for Erwin, who looked like a proud big brother with a heart-full smile.

"That’s it [Y/N], you got it!"

"Ahaha... t-thank you!"

Next Chapter

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader

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