Tumgik
#i would absolutely attempt petty crime in front of him just to get his hands on me
toshidou · 1 year
Text
sure cowboy ghost is a hot concept but sheriff ghost? masked sheriff ghost who protects his outpost fiercely? masked sheriff ghost adorned with brown leather chaps, and a matching leather jacket, completed with a golden badge that clearly states that neither him or his town are to be fucked with?
pussy wetter than a slip n slide, i stg
217 notes · View notes
nani-nonny · 1 year
Note
About LCD, i know he's like a vigilantiy or neutral who walks his own path - with protecting the kids in the shadow - but what would happen if kids got arrested by hidden police city?
Or worst got kidnapped by bishop? (I know rise doesn't have bishop but am putting out a " what if " scenario here).
(If you can add your own perspective with the same scenario but with different leo(s)? Such as DMD, WSD, reunion).
Oooh I’ll have to brush up on who Bishop is, I completely forgot about him. It’s been years since I’ve consumed tmnt content—well, until recently that is haha (I have been rewatching—albeit slowly because responsibilities—tmnt 2003 and 2012 so hopefully I get to it soon)
(A bit of a long post so more under the cut)
But, if the kids were to get arrested in the Hidden City, LCD would easily walk through the front doors and demand the kids be released. If no one complies with his demand, he’ll just walk through the building until he found them. After all, who’s gonna stop the Killer of the Hidden City? They all fear him, and rightfully so. LCD would simply release the kids and guide them to the surface and leave asap.
The arrest situation would be all over the news at the sudden resurgence of the killer, and even if he doesn’t hurt anyone, the city would be in a panic. The kids would be scolded for coming back to the Hidden City and LCD would go back into hiding. For the next few weeks in the Hidden City, many yokai would be afraid to leave their houses unless absolutely necessary. Fortunately for the Hidden City police, crime would be at an all-time low during that time.
If the kids were kidnapped, then that’s another story. (I imagine this would be a petty attempt at getting revenge from LCD.) Yokai would disappear for a few days before returning with pale faces as if they saw a ghost or witnessed horrors that haunt their everyday lives. News would go up that the killer is on the move again and there would be another city-wide panic but word would get out that he’s searching for “his son”. [Context: In the Hidden City, LCD Little Leon is believed to be F!Leo’s biological son.]
Yokai would throw each other under the bus in an attempt at helping LCD so they can save their own hides. LCD would eventually catch word where the kids are and the kidnapper would mysteriously “disappear” (and so would LCD but for an entirely different reason, such as hiding from the cops). The kids would be escorted home and scolded to never come back to the Hidden City ever again.
“Give me the kids and I’ll make your death as swift and painless as you deserve.” -LCD (it was in fact not swift nor painless)
In DMD’s, WDS’s and Reunion’s cases, they all have something LCD lacks: resources.
I feel like WDS F!Leo would be backed up by F!Donnie and track down the kids via their trackers implanted by P!Donnie. F!Leo would be fueled by parental rage and find the kidnapper easily and inflict hell upon said kidnapper while F!Mikey/Raph/Donnie get a few punches in using F!Leo’s body (obviously, he’d allow them to take turns guiding his fists and kicks.) It’d be a quick and easy mission with a punishment lasting weeks—maybe even months. But F!Leo would dedicate a lot of that time making sure the kids are okay and that they feel safe.
“Fuck, kids, you’re okay. You’re safe now, I’ve got you. We’re going home and doing whatever you want. Okay? I’m here.” -WDS
DMD would ask everybody he knows to keep a lookout. And this means Big Mama (this would entail doing something for her in turn, of course), Draxum, and Ripper and Wiler. He would also utilize his celebrity stance in the Hidden City to ask the yokai to keep a lookout for the kids. He would take matters into his own hands and interrogate every villain they’ve fought, which means terrorizing small bad guys like Hypno and Warren Stone. Casey Jr would have to help him keep it together because he would definitely spiral into a tornado of self-guilt.
“Come here, please, come here. You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt, are you? Case, report to everyone we found them. Let’s go home, okay? We can talk about this when we get home. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” -DMD
Reunion doesn’t have to worry too much because he’s incredibly confident in the kids’ abilities. (Well, that and he’d have to be back in the present to be aware that the kids were stolen. For this scenario let’s say he was just visiting but found the lair empty and Splinter alone in the lair.) That’s solely backed up by the fact the kids were able to imprison the krang which is the reason why he holds them to such high regards. He would search for the kids with Splinter’s help and utilize anything available to them. (I think this would be the first P!Splinter sees Leonardo as the leader he expected his son to be—he might tear up at the sight due to how proud he is.) P!Splinter and F!Leo would have to work fast because the portal back to F!Leo’s time would be held open by his brothers. When they do eventually locate the kids, the kidnappers would be beaten senseless then the kids rushed back home without a proper goodbye because Reunion had to go home.
“Are you guys okay? Did I make it in time? I’m so sorry, let’s get you home. What do you need? Dad, lead the way.” -Reunion
This was actually an interesting question ngl and I wish I remembered more about bishop to answer that one too haha! It took me a while to think of how they would react, but I think the easiest was DMD’s.
9 notes · View notes
trashytoastboi · 3 years
Note
Hi beautiful
Congratulations
You really are amazing talented writer
I hope your blog grows even bigger in the future
I would love to request something because i really like your event so much
My hero academia scenario
Bakugo { grow up version like he is 20 something year old }
10. Impregnation/Breeding (NSFW)
{ he loves his omega wife and really wants kids with her }
Have a wonderful day/night beautiful
Thank you so much
Hiya!🍀 thank you so much for saying so 🥺🙈 I'm glad you like the event and of course! Hope you enjoy~
(Female Pronouns)
1000 Followers Event!
NSFW Scenario: ABO AU! Alpha! Bakugo x Omega! Wife - #10. Impregnation/Breeding
Warning: NSFW (Oral, Riding, Missionary, ABO/Omegaverse Dynamics, Breeding)
Word Count: 2, 708 words
Tumblr media
💥Bakugo Katsuki💥
Bakugo slinks into the passenger seat, getting a lift with Kirishima wasn't the worst thing and it was better than the train especially when he feels absolutely exhausted. Kirishima continued talking about his day, though Bakugo was unable to pay attention he closed his eyes and thought about the day. It wasn't the worst day, but it was busy, tons of petty crimes that he needed to attend to. The biggest thing was a minor collapse of a bridge, the use of the word minor was because it was in a quiet part of town, over a road no one uses and no one was on the bridge. A few bystanders got caught up in the mess, escaping with nothing worse than bruises, there was a child who had gotten lost and Bakugo was tasked with taking him back to his parents. At first he groaned and complained, saying mediocre tasks were a nuisance, though he put on his usual cool demeanour and went about finding his parents. It was a little touching to see the way the parents were so relieved over finding their son, it only served to stoke the thought that had been sitting in Bakugo's mind about the prospect of future plans.
“Bakugo...Bakugo” Kirishima was calling him, snapping him out of his thoughts as he looked at the red head. Grumbling a little apology and thanking him for the ride, wishing him a safe journey rest of the way as he made his way to the front door.
The moment he walks in, the exhaustion washes over him. He barely takes off the basics of his hero costume, the gauntlets, gloves, his belt. Besides that it seems almost too much effort, it truly was the bare minimum, sluggishly he walks in and spots {Name} laying on the bed, just scrolling through her phone. Lowering it the moment she hears him come in, Bakugo doesn't wait a moment before slipping into bed alongside her, just burying his face into the pillows and sighing deeply. {Name} snuggles into him, giving him a light peck "You look battered" and seeing him nod "I feel battered" Bakugo retorts, {Name} looks over and can definitely see him practically screaming exhaustion. "At least get out of your costume" {Name} attempts to encourage him, wanting him to be a little more comfortable, though earning a grunt in response as he retreats further into the pillow. "Here, sit up" {Name} gestures for him, Bakugo reluctantly sits up, feeling her hands on his body felt really nice, and calming. She helps take off his top, the rest of his guards and various straps, helping him along as she takes everything and throws it to the floor. Standing up and retrieving a pair of sweatpants, playfully throwing it at his face. The moment the pants fall to his lap she is chuckling at his annoyed expression and watching the sweatpants going completely ignored. She ambles back to the bed, catching a glimpse of the fresh bruises on his body. {Name} runs her hand gently over them, worry in her eyes as she scans over all the other scars he has picked up after years of hero work. Bakugo falls back to the bed, as {Name} shuffles closer and leans down to rest on his chest. Bakugo smiles, leaning down to kiss her, pulling her a little closer as his kiss lingers a little longer, its soft and sweet, conveying all his passions. "Katsuki what's gotten int-" her words are cut off by more kisses, she hums and smiles. It falls quiet, as the two simply lay together just relaxing and enjoying each others presence, the moment of reprieve helps with recovery from the day. Bakugo breaks the silence, bringing up some general conversation though it seems to tiptoe around what he truly wants to say until his conversation was withheld and the slowly drawn question arose "Have you..."
The hesitation in his voice earned a glance from {Name}, leisurely resting her chin against his cheat as she looks up at him and awaiting the rest of his sentence. "Have you ever thought about starting a family?" Bakugo inquires, keeping his head turned and gaze averted, due to his bashfulness on the topic. {Name} finds the way his ears and cheeks twinge with a red hue to be quite adorable. "Everytime I go into heat"{Name} jests, though not entirely untrue. "I'm being serious" Bakugo muttered, now directly looking at her "Y-you mean you've been thinking about it?" {Name} stutters out, a little shocked at the discovery "For a while now."
{Name} blushes at his words "I have been thinking about it, I just thought that you weren't all that interested in having any kids of our own..." her words are bashful and hesitant, Bakugo's hand runs along her back "I never expected to get married either" Bakugo replies, {Name} smiles "I guess that's true." He pulls her up and kisses her sweetly "I propose we make a brat of our own" Bakugo grins, pinning her underneath him suddenly "Right now?" {Name} murmurs taken aback by the sudden shift in the situation and Bakugo's actions. "You don't want to?" Bakugo asks, ceasing all his advances watching a sly smile spread across her lips "Hmmm, why don't you convince me Katsuki?~" {Name} giggles, playing coy which only served to entertain him all the more. Bakugo slips his hand under the material of her shirt, tenderly rubbing her hip with his thumb and offering no further progression. He leans down to rest his forehead against hers, eyes searching {Name's} for the unspoken words between them "You know I love you, right?" He whispers softly "I know Katsuki" {Name} rests her hand against his face offering gentle words of her own "I love you too" Bakugo gently captures her lips, patience has never been his virtue but right now he seemed to be the most patient, savoring her kiss. Nuzzling into her, and just feeling her beneath him, he truly felt like the luckiest man alive to have her. {Name} brings her hands to rest atop his shoulders, guiding him into another kiss and flashes a reassuring smile. Bakugo's hands make quick work of her clothing, hastened in need and trying to take them off as soon as possible. Every inch of newly uncovered skin is met with loving kisses and appreciation, tender affections and little endearments that make it feel so loving “Look at you, you're being so sweet” {Name} chuckles, a soft growl rumbles in his chest before Bakugo looks at her and bites her neck "I could be rough if that's what you wanted" he whispered in a low drawl, dragging his tongue along the irritated flesh, "However you want me, I'm yours" {Name} responds, a little ring in her voice that is all too alluring to Bakugo.
His hand eagerly and impatiently roams her skin, taking off her pants and seeing {Name} almost bare in front of him, it was enough to make him lick his lips. Leaning down, Bakugo places hungry, open mouthed kisses on her chest, trailing down her stomach nipping at her hip, leaving little marks as evidence of his ownership, the sheer predatory gaze he gave her each time {Name} would meet his eyes was sending shivers up her spine. Making anticipation build, impatience in tandem as she awaits and being caught off guard as his nails lightly rake down her side, enough to elicit a few cute moans and goosebumps on her skin.
His fingers rake down till they hook in her underwear and pull them down. Bakugo smiles seeing her so needy and ready for him. Bakugo stands up to shed off the remainder of his clothing, the sudden burst of energy seemingly reserved just for {Name} as he shows evidence of exhaustion in every one of his movements. {Name} follows him, lightly grazing her hand down his back, a small preface to the kisses she lays, tracing her fingertips along his shoulders, wandering down as they slip into the waistband of his underwear. He inhales a deep breath as her fingers leave. She guides him down to the bed, watching him sit slowly and with a smile as her fingers hook into his underwear again to finish the job she started. {Name} settles in front of him, her hands rubbing his legs, and up to his thighs, a manner of trying to encourage him to relax a little and let go of some of the tension. Bakugo smirks at seeing her looking up at him so sweetly "Such innocent eyes, especially when we both know just what you're about to do with that pretty mouth of yours?" Bakugo teases, tracing her lips with his thumb as she takes it into her mouth, a lewd expression on her face as it falls from her mouth "I've always been one for acts of service, haven't I? Especially for my alpha~" {Name} purrs out in a sultry manner, watching as Bakugo's eyes turn a little darker and lustful "Don't go riling me too much 'mega, I can't hold back."
{Name} nuzzles into him softly and affectionately. Despite the circumstance it was an innocent gesture of affection before placing little butterfly kisses along his thigh, trailing and leading closer to where he wanted her. {Name} looked up at him, Bakugo waited silently with hungry eyes simply wanting more but remained patient as much as his restraint would allow, {Name} gave a tentative touch, little teasing kitten licks to his aching cock, listening to that low groan of approval, and slowly taking him into her mouth, before he can fully relish in the feeling she pulls him out with a slight pop. Smiling and licking her lips, listening to him groan both out of pleasure and frustration as she took him slowly again, the glacial pace proving challenging to Bakugo. His hand makes it's way to her head, threading into her hair and guiding her back, {Name} happily compliant as she takes him into her mouth, slowly leading her to her capacity, Bakugo thrusts slightly and makes her gag, he quickly pulls from her mouth “Too much?” he inquires gently, {Name} looks up to him and giggles “I feel that if I answer that you're going to stroke your own ego”
Bakugo grins, pulling her up to him, in a fluid movement {Name} straddles his lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Lips clashing against his, “That was short lived” she murmurs into the kiss as Bakugo chuckles “Mmmm I know baby, but I'm looking forward to others things” Bakugo presses a kiss to her neck, nibbling down and seeing their bond mark, nipping at the skin and earning a little purr from {Name}, he kisses down, on her collar bone, down her chest. Kissing her breasts, leaving little marks on them. {Name} giggles as his calloused hand grab them, squeezing them and hearing her sigh as he continues exploring every inch of her as if it were their first time. “Katsuki...” {Name} sighs, her hands tangle into his hair, pulling him closer, as the slow burn of building passions begins to deteriorate into more carnal appetites. A need of something more dictates he hurries, rushes, gives into lust but tenderness and appreciation hold him back. Wanting to treasure and appreciate {Name}, the idea of starting a family seemed too overwhelming. Exciting even, and thinking to the moment {Name} will be pregnant with his child, their child and as daunting as it seemed he felt ready and confident. The prospect had never before seemed so appealing, maybe it was {Name} that changed that from the moment she became his wife, slowly and surely those little idyllic ideals seemed to appeal to him.
{Name} grinds against him, “Baby, please” Bakugo whispers, unable to wait any longer, she kisses him slowly, lifting her hips and hovering above his cock. He almost snaps at how she seems to stay there without moving only driving him mad, {Name} gives in first however, lowering her hips and feeling the way his cock pushes into her slowly, a little too slow for his liking. The familiarity of his warmth and the perfect way he fills {Name}makes her moans melodic and drawn out. His hands help her, limiting the rush as they enjoy the pleasure that engulfs them. “Take it all the way baby...that's it...” Bakugo moans, {Name} bites her lip muttering curses under her breath, sighing as she feels him bottom out, Bakugo calls for her attention, flashing a small smile that makes her blush. His hands set pace, moving her body and pulling her close as if desperate to not be away from {Name}. His movement is slow as he pulls out, almost reluctant to leave her warmth and thrusting back in with fervor, {Name} suddenly jolts feeling him brush against a particular spot, “There?” Bakugo murmurs thrusting back into her. {Name} whimpers, holding onto him and resting her face against his chest. His scent permeates the room, overwhelmingly so and makes her head spin. It's pleasant and a little scary as her head spirals down “A-Alpha, don't stop please....” she whines, holding onto him as if afraid to let go. Bakugo hums, seeing the state she is in, it's a beautiful sight for him “Don't worry 'mega, I've got you” he reassures her, continuing his slow, hard thrusts as she whimpers and whines. Creating all those beautiful sounds he loves.
Bakugo flips her over, pushing her to the bed. His breath grows heavy with need, his hand rests on the side of her head to provide support for himself as the other holds her hip. Keeping her still while he continues to thrust into her. “I'm gonna make sure by the end of this you have a brat in you” Bakugo growls, his grip tightening.
{Name} smiles and chuckles “Oh? I thought I already had a brat in me” Bakugo rolls his eyes at her little quip, “Got a smart mouth huh” They smile at eachother, keeping the desperate and restrictive pace. {Name's} hands tangle in the sheets, head leaning back as the feeling begins building, the tension winding tighter in her stomach. Bakugo leans down and kisses her, his forehead pressing to hers “Just let go” he whispers, his words being more than enough to send her spiralling down into sheer bliss.
He rocks gently, working her through her climax. Watching her catch her breath and enjoy the aftermath. His lips grace her neck as his hips pick up speed again, holding her tighter, he lifts a leg over his shoulder allowing him wander in a little deeper he holds her hand and presses a kiss to it. Holding her hand tightly, he sighs feeling his own release building. Bakugo growls softly “Sorry {Name}, I can't hold back anymore...” His hand digs into her thigh and holds her harshly as he slams into her enough to make {Name} gasp at the sudden shift and his roughness. Thrusting into her harder and erratic at feeling his release coming. Bakugo pulls {Name} close and holds her as his hips still feeling his seed spill into her, growling his contentments and profanities at the feeling. Watching {Name} purr as he settles, holding her and reeling from the feeling. {Name} rubs his back and holds him just an entangled mess of limbs, he nuzzles her affectionately as she giggles “You're being really affectionate today” {Name} comments seeing him blush slightly “Yeah...”
“I love you Katsuki” {Name} murmurs, caressing his face gently and running her fingers through his unruly hair, “I love you too idiot” he murmurs at her affections, exhaustion truly settling into both of them as Bakugo glances over to the clock to see it reaching a later hour than he would prefer to be up at. His head settles on {Name}, comforted by her scent. It was so strange all his desires physical and otherwise seemed so fulfilled and his mind wanders back to all those little ideas, getting a little ahead of himself by considering names, activities. Even seeing things like coming home to {Name} with their child. Soon enough all the thoughts filled his mind and sent him into a restful and well deserved slumber.
311 notes · View notes
m-y-fandoms · 4 years
Text
COMMISSION: Kokichi Ouma x Female Reader - Love-Hate Relationship
Thank you to my patron/client! Kokichi is always fun to write
Summary: Kokichi starts to fall for the only person in the killing game who likes him. His best friend is always on his side and has true feelings for him both platonically and romantically, but will he ruin everything with his harsh words and lies?
Friends to Enemies back to Friends to Lovers LMAO - ANGST and FLUFF
Warnings: Vulgar Language, otherwise SFW - Admin Myah
Word Count: 5.1K words 
Tumblr media
When it all began, people didn’t like Kokichi. (Y/N) found this little fact out quite quickly. It was quite obvious. He was loud, and obnoxious, and stubborn, and whiny, and a great many other negative adjectives one would use to describe, say… an elementary school student.
 But! … he was also a great many other amazingly fantastical things, such as cunning, intelligent, hilarious, perceptive, adorable. These were the things (Y/N) saw in him, these and a lot more endearing qualities, these things the others seemingly refused to see in him. Even the more intelligent and reasonable of her peers, such as the intuitive detective Shuichi Saihara or the studied anthropologist Korekiyo Shinguuji could admit Kokichi was intelligent, but not much else. (Y/N) didn’t understand it. She truly didn’t think Kokichi was all that awful. Why weren’t they seeing what she saw? From the moment they all arose, groggy and confused in that eerie gymnasium together she knew he would be something special, someone to watch. She had a gift for reading people like that: their souls, their intentions, their true talents.
 The two of them, in time, had even started to become friends where he had none, and she essentially became his only link to the rest of the students. It would often go something like this: 
 Kokichi would reveal something critical, something hidden or potentially deadly that they all must know.
Kokichi, being the stubborn ass that he was, would lie about the details, or the information altogether, switching facts around and embellishing the story with fictional bits and bites.
The other Ultimates would ignore him, call him a liar, engage in some petty squabble.
(Y/N) would vouch for the little lord of lying, and the group would reluctantly scrounge up enough good faith to believe the pair.
 In times like those, (Y/N) would often chastise the tiny tyrant, forever asking him why he couldn’t just play nice and help the group out of the kindness of his heart?
 There was always some nonsensical, facetious, nonchalant response.
 And without fail, the more outspoken students would try to talk some sense into (Y/N), asking her why she put up with him, why she even tried to get to know him, why she liked him.
 But it was no use, she was drawn to him, and there was no stopping or changing it. (Y/N) was always one to latch onto the people who piqued her interest, who plucked her heartstrings, be it romantically or platonically. She found herself enraptured by his mind at first, then his looks, then the way he spoke, and more specifically... the way he spoke to her. 
 Yes, despite what the others thought, she found herself always defending him, and then, she found herself falling for him.
 And he would never in his life admit it, but he was starting to fall for her, too. 
 When the killing game first started, the others thought of him as a brat, just a nuisance. They ignored him and at worst, they told him off like the annoying kid on the playground. Back then, she would still hang out with him, ignoring his teasing jabs or even jabbing back. He found himself surprised with her comebacks and playful insults at times. 
 She was always around, and would never abandon him, a fact he most definitely took advantage of, for when the first killing happened, when Rantaro was taken from them and the killing game transformed from a hypothetical danger into a very, very real one, people started doubting and turning on each other. At that moment, he also was transformed in their mind. He was no longer a brat, he was becoming a villain and potential threat. People were choosing sides, forming cliques, trios, duos, going solo, and so on. 
 And she was always on his side.
 When it came time for their terrified little class of ultimates to enter the trial grounds for the very first time, her podium was directly across from his, as if by fate. Kokichi didn’t believe too much in fate… but he didn’t mind getting a perfect view of her all trial long. He found out quickly that he may come to regret the placement, however, as it also gave her a perfect view of him, and she was no fool like the rest of them. She would watch his expressions, catch the smallest twitch of his lip or raise of his brow. Much like Shuichi, she was one of the only ones who could study his words and actions and weed out the lies… at least most of the time. She wasn’t afraid to call him out on it, and she knew the tone of his voice better than anyone else there. She was making it terribly difficult for him to confuse others, extend the trial, stir up some fun… and he liked that about her. Someone who could keep up with him was certainly not boring… and extremely attractive.
 Even with so many people against him, dismissing both his lies and truths, verbally attacking him, she would hear him out, and by the end of it all, the innocent got out alive. The thrilling and bone-chilling trial ended with a correct verdict. Without their teamwork, even with Shuichi’s genius, it may not have been so.
 With the first trial’s conclusion, Kokichi’d made up his mind to stop simply admiring her and actually get to enjoy that not-boring personality to the fullest. That’s the most he’d give her: that she wasn’t boring, unlike the rest of them. Grabbing her hand, he whisked her away to uncover the newest research labs that Monokuma’d allowed them access to. They inspected them all top to bottom, together as a team. They eventually would do this to every unlocked location in the academy, making short work of the campus while harassing each other, badgering and bantering, hurling insults the entire time. She was the only one he couldn’t exhaust. Just when he began to think it might be a tad bit more romantic to pull some punches for her sake, he discovered he didn’t have to. She’d punch back, and just as hard.
 In fact, he liked her so much, that when his poor classmates were subjected to the horrendous Insect Meet-and-Greet event, she was personally invited by Ouma himself, and not hauled over Gonta’s gentlemanly shoulders and carried, or worse, knocked the fuck out only to wake up surrounded by bugs.
 “How charming,” she teased, rolling her eyes as he stood in the frame of her dorm room’s door.
 “Yeah, you should feel pretty special! I wasted precious energy coming down here to ask you to come!” He exhaled loudly, far too proud of himself.
 “Well, as much as I’d love to be covered in roaches and piss myself when beetles attempt to crawl into every orifice on my body, I can’t. Again, love to, truly, but-”
 “Awwww! But we hang out every night! And you’re lying! You’re never busy you dirty, rotten, lying loser! Who else hangs out with you beside me?! What else do you have to do if it doesn’t involve me? Your life’s a yawn unless I plan your daily itinerary!” He huffed, crossing his arms with a small stomp of one foot. “Gosh, I hate liars!” He pouted.
 “Pout all you want, I’m not going to your bug fest. I hate bugs.”
 “Wait ‘til Gonta hears about your very controversial opinion!” Kokichi gasped, feigning absolute shock.
 “You wouldn’t...” her eyes widened, knowing instantly that she’d fucked up. He didn’t reply, but simply smirked, an evil, plotting, crooked grin creeping across his visage. She sighed deeply, head hanging in defeat.
 “Be my date?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers temptingly. Her head shot up, an uncomfortable, flustered warmth running through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears. He caught this immediately, as he caught most changes in the air, and his face twisted into an equally awkward expression for a split second before his brow furrowed and he snarled. “Hurry the fuck up, shithead! You know what I meant! Let’s go or I’m having Tarzan put your ass to sleep!” He spat, and she simply giggled, grabbing his hand before being pulled off.
 “Your date huh? I can’t think of anything I’d love more than some worms in my shoes.”
 ♡
 That morning when they awoke, Ryoma was gone, stolen away in what they assumed was either the night or the early morning. Kokichi was usually very much unfazed, desensitized to most shock and awe in life, but this time… it was different. He was upset, and visibly so, stomping around the crime scene like a child, brooding.
 It wasn’t the loss of a Ryoma, nor the gore and tragedy of the scene that had him so agitated, it was her reaction to it. (Y/N) wore her heart on her sleeve, and she wasn’t afraid to cry in front of others, so it was no surprise that she was in tears now. She’d cried over both Rantaro and Kaede’s deaths, but that was different. Kaede was a girl, and he didn’t care about (Y/N) enough back when Rantaro was killed to be jealous of her tears, but now… he was practically green.
 (Y/N) had actually been pretty close with Ryoma. Like she did with most people, she dug past Ryoma’s appearance and the story he wanted everyone to know, and what she found was a pretty amazing guy. She wasn’t as close to him as she was to Kokichi, but still…
 These weren’t tears of horror from seeing a dead body, or of witnessing a young person’s life cut short. They were tears of mourning the loss of a close friend, and Kokichi was positively boiling.
 By the time he’d managed to cool himself down while effectively hiding his meltdown from the rest of them, (Y/N) had wandered off to start the investigation and avenge her friend with Shuichi. Yeah no, that wasn’t going to happen. She was quickly swept away to start their own little search party. The two of them, the way it was supposed to be. Of course, he would never say all of these embarrassing thoughts aloud. He’d make up some stupid excuse for why she just had to come with him. But it wasn't personal, and he didn’t care about her.
 He didn’t
 He. Didn’t.
 Did he...?
 ♡
 When it came time for the second trial, Kokichi made sure to make fun of (Y/N), calling her a crybaby, mocking her “endless blubbering” and all the valuable time she wasted doing it. He tried desperately, now at war with his own heart and values, to convince himself she was nothing to him, that she was just another pea-brained opponent in this death game, that she was a source of entertainment at best, and nothing else.
 “Shut the fuck up, Miu, nobody wants to hear that gross shit! Cream your pants later!” (Y/N) spoke across the circle to the blonde exhibitionist with a scowl on her face. Miu, in response, shriveled and whined. Kokichi couldn’t help but crack a smile. That was one of the things he loved about (Y/N), how she put people in their place.
 What?! Shit, no! Not loved… I mean she was cool, but... not - his mind raced, trying to shake himself back to the place he wanted to be. Shit!
 The trial went on, and with every word she worsened the self-made conflict within him.
 “How could you say that Kaito?!” (Y/N) howled at the Ultimate Astronaut, who was taken aback by her anger. Kokichi, too, found himself taken aback. Kaito was the “good guy”, the macho action hero, the protagonist’s best friend. While many called Kaito names, dismissed his ridiculous ideas, and even told him he was plain stupid and wrong at times, no one ever truly challenged the trusted hero duo that was Shuichi and Kaito, and certainly not with such unbridled anger. “You must have no idea what it’s like to go through depression, to not see the point in living anymore! How dare you speak ill of Ryoma?! How dare you say he used to be your hero?!” She knew what it was like, those dark thoughts Ryoma must’ve been having for years.
 Kokichi watched her, like a spitfire, a firecracker. He forgot all about his decision to let her go, to stop interacting with her altogether after today, and couldn’t help being pulled in. They spent the rest of the trial working as they usually did: together, as a team. He spoke up more, and they teased each other, flirting harmlessly and carrying on.
 And the others were starting to notice…
 “Man, can’t you two save it for when you’re alone?! Damn! I can practically see you undressing each other with your eyes, bleh!” Miu gagged before letting out one of her infamous cackles. (Y/N)’s face ran hot, instinctively leaning back on her podium. Her bottom lip caught itself between her teeth, at a loss for words as she met Kokichi’s gaze.
 “Yeah right, as if! I’d love to be discussing with literally anyone else here but you guys all have the personality of dirty pond water…” Kokichi sighed defensively, looking at his nails as if Miu’s words meant nothing to him. 
 (Y/N) knew how he was, she knew harsh words and lies were his coping mechanism, but she couldn’t help the way her shoulders sunk.
 ♡
 Despite her hurting heart, when Kokichi - the shit-stirrer that he was - revealed Maki’s truth to the group after Kirumi’s execution, (Y/N) was the only one to throw herself between them, prying Maki’s hands from her best friend’s throat.
 “Fuck, now she’s out here tryna die for this asshole!” Miu crowed. “HA HA! They’re definitely fuckin’!” She held her stomach, practically in tears from her laughing fit.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” (Y/N) pushed past the crowd, tired of them, tired of the humiliation, tired of Kokichi, tired of all of it. She left the trial room, running all the way and not stopping until she was locked up in her room.
 After the public embarrassment and Kokichi’s heartless dismissal of their… complicated relationship, maybe….
Maybe now it was her turn to cut him off.
 ♡
Days passed and she refused to see him. She stayed locked up in her room at night and avoided him during the day, well... avoided him as best she could. Kokichi wasn’t one to be ignored if he didn’t want to be. He persisted, harassing and tracking her around, begging her to talk to him, to play, to prank others with him, to investigate the new research labs, but she simply pretended he wasn’t there. It hurt, it really hurt to shut him out, but to go on with him acting like she didn’t matter in public and then deciding she did in private hurt even worse. Her loyalty could only go so far. She wouldn’t allow him to mess with her heart any longer… or so she thought.
 ♡
Hours before the third trial was to commence, (Y/N) found herself outside of Korekiyo’s research lab when what looked like a walking corpse stumbled by. She cried out, running over to a dazed Kokichi, bumbling about light-headed and pale, with fresh blood running freely down his head.
 “Kokichi!” Her feelings be damned! She couldn’t just sit there and watch him suffer or worse. Who knew how much blood he’d already lost? Crazed with worry, she threw his arm over her shoulder, looking around frantically wondering why no one else had noticed him yet.
 The answer was simple: no one else cared. They probably had noticed and simply written him off. (Y/N) pouted, contemplating leaving him there… she was supposed to be mad at him.
 “Ohhhhh… gah! ...Damn you, Kokichi!” How did he keep doing this? How was he worming his evil little ass into her heart again and again?! She began dragging him down the stairs and toward the dorms. The investigation would have to wait.
“(Y-Y/N)...?” Kokichi mumbled in his ditzy state. “Hoo hoo! I thought we weren’t talkin’?!” He nearly tumbled from her arms, weak and wobbly.
 “Oh, shut up, asshole!” (Y/N) growled, nearing the dormitory area and pulling him into her room.
 ♡
 “Man, that sucked!” Kokichi sat leaned against the glass of the sliding shower door in the small personal offshoot bathroom attached to her small dorm room. A cold washcloth sat covering his forehead, wetting the messy strands of his long bangs.
 “Tell me again why you didn’t just call for help once you realized how badly you were bleeding?” (Y/N) made small talk, wringing out the soiled rag she’d initially used to clean him off. He took a swig of some icy bottled water she’d provided and glowered, his bottom lip out in contemplation.
 “ ‘Cause I didn’t think anyone would come…” he spoke flatly, exhausted with the loss of blood and shittiness of it all. She froze, turning to him.
 “I’m sorry…” she sighed, replacing the washcloth on his head with some gauze that she started to gently wrap around the rather deep wound.
 “You should be! Hmpf!” He crossed his arms and she pulled on the gauze sharply, tightly constricting the oozing sore. “Shit!”
 “Don’t start, dickhead. You’re lucky I’m choosing to forgive you!” She chided. He shot her a dirty look, and for moments they sat in silence.
 “... For a moment I thought you hated me… like the rest of them,” he finally spoke up, any amount of silence torturous to his child-like psyche. She felt her heart sink.
 “... I could never.” She smiled softly, fighting off a nagging frown that threatened to present itself. Before he could make this even more awkward, she stood, taking control of the situation. “Okay, I’ll be right back, you stay right here. I don’t want you passing out again.” She took off, closing the bathroom door and sneaking away into the main room.
 Shuffling through her closet and by extension her Monokuma-provided wardrobe, she peeled off first her shirt then her uniform’s skirt, both now completely ruined by dark patches of Kokichi’s blood, her reward for carrying his sorry ass all the way here. Now in only her underwear, she reached for a replacement uniform and wandered over to her bedside table for her deodorant and some facial wipes. As she wiped the grime and sweat from the crevices of her oily face, the bathroom door slid open with an impatient force behind it.
 “I’m boooooooored-”
 “Ahh!” She screeched, rushing to cover herself up before she could even process what was happening, but the only things nearby were her comforter and intricate uniform.
 “Oh, God! Why are you naked?!” Kokichi hollered, his face turning beet red. (Y/N) pulled the comforter up and around her body, her uniform falling from the bed.
 “I told you to wait there!” Her cheeks felt engulfed in flames, the skin all over her body hot and her feathers effectively ruffled.
 “You didn’t say why! You didn’t say you were doing a strip show in here!” He retorted, covering his eyes with one arm, more for her to save face than out of his own desire.
 “Get out! Just get out!” She screamed, tears pricking her eyes.
 “But-!”
 “Now!!” Full of a genre of rage he almost never felt, he conceded, stomping out of her room without another word.
 (Y/N) fell to her bed, screaming into her pillow like nobody’s business. She felt ashamed, mortified, infuriated. Why, for once, couldn’t he just listen?! Her body was never something she was confident in or proud of, and now, to have him, the guy she had feelings for see her like that, and not only practically naked, but caught off guard… it was as more than she could handle.
 ♡
 The trial room was relatively quiet that afternoon. The usual suspects were chatting, defending themselves, accusing others. Shuichi was having a pretty smooth trial - a blessing in his eyes - with Kokichi not giving him an easier time than usual. When he did speak, it was his usual lies, with an underlying irritated tone, but he never spoke a word to (Y/N), and (Y/N) hardly spoke at all. After some time, someone addressed the elephant in the room… err, other than the murders, that is…
 “Soooo, uh…” Kaito, courageous as always, spoke out, “(Y/N), you awake over there? We could use some help to, you know, find the culprit so we don’t all bite it?” He was only somewhat gentle with his words, having already made up with her after the last trial’s argument, but anxious over the current situation. “Shuichi and I can’t handle this on our own! You usually have a lot to say!”
 “I resent that comment, Kaito, as I believe I help plenty, but yes,” Kiibo rolled his metallic eyes to the sky, ever focused on the current goal, “you do usually have more to say, (Y/N). We could really use another opinion here.”
 “Something wrong with (Y/N)?” Gonta, always concerned for his friends’ feelings inquired, brows furrowed in concern.
 “Hah!” Miu spat. “Of course something’s wrong! Haven't you noticed that little prick over there ain’t feedin’ us his bullshit nearly as much as neither?!” She pointed at Kokichi before placing a haughty hand on her hip. “He probably slipped her his little prick, and it was so tiny she was turned off for good! Probably can’t even speak, she’s so disappointed! Hella awkward!” She roared. Everyone exchanged the familiar looks of disgust or scorn that came after one of Miu’s outbursts, and as (Y/N) opened her mouth to defend them both, she was cut off.
 “More like the other way around!” Kokichi hurled Miu’s statements right back in her face, his knuckles crunching down on his podium with a vice-like grip. “After I saw her naked earlier, I was the one leaving with a softie!” He growled, his frustrations, self-loathing, and need to be in control and defend himself all culminating in these toxically destructive words.
 A few audible gasps were heard in the room, a few laughs from Monokuma and his remaining offspring, and the more mature students such as Maki and Shuichi simply sighing in exhaustion, wondering why they kept getting off track with useless information. (Y/N) felt her knees almost buckle.
 No. Not this time! She heard her mind shout at her heart, and she slammed her hands down on her podium, all embarrassment melting into pure rage.
“YOU- GOD!” An encore slam down onto the flat metal, “You FUCKING asshole! That’s not what happened you goddamn fucking LIAR, and you know it!” Her voice was hoarse with the force of it.
 “Uh oh! Struck a ner-” Miu began to speak.
 “You shut the fuck up!” (Y/N) pointed to the busty instigator before directing her venomous ire back at Kokichi, who refused to look her in the eyes. “I did everything to help you after your dumb ass fell through the fucking floor, and this is how I’m repaid?! I do everything with you and for you, and this is how you treat me?! Why do you always sit here and lie to these people about us?! Fucking shithead fucking-” she was struggling for words, holding back tears. “You tell them the truth, that I had your blood all over me from patching you up because no one else likes your sorry ass! Everyone else would’ve left you passed out on the floor or worse dead from blood loss or killed by the culprit who seems to be on a fucking spree!” She gestured wildly, talking with her hands. “You walked in on me changing my bloody clothes! It was your fault! Just like it’s your fault that you have one fr-” her voice broke, and she looked to her feet. “No friends. Fuck you… Shuichi just finish the fucking trial we all know who the culprit is.” She looked down the rest of the trial, saying nothing, hearing nothing, just a ringing in her ears.
 “This is reeeeeeal fuckin’ awkward and I hate it here,” Miu cooed, rubbing her hands together.
 ♡
 As soon as the trial was over, Kokichi, feeling the weight of his best friend’s words, searched high and low for her. The campus was huge with many places to hide, but he knew her well, and he knew her favorite spots. He checked the AV room, library, casino, her research lab, and her room first, then everywhere else, asking anyone he came across about her whereabouts.
“Dude you messed up, even by your standards,” Kaito demeaned with a righteous fist in the air.
“I think it’s completely reasonable that she would not want to speak with you,” Kiibo sighed.
“Kokichi, you probably really hurt her. Just let her be, that’s the right thing to do,” Shuichi offered guidance even to the worst of his peers any time he could.
“Why are you speaking to me?” Maki walked away.
At long last, finding himself in the basement after wallowing around the school for a while, he opened the door to the AV room for some space and privacy, seeing as it was rarely used since Rantaro’s death. He gasped.
 “(Y/N)!” She turned from her position reading on the little couch, startled, and immediately turned back upon seeing the owner of the voice. He closed the door behind him, shuffling over with his tail between his legs. Quickly, before she could notice, he forced a rather convincing peppy voice. “The heck?! I already checked here!” She knew that. She’d been there earlier, and left when she heard he was making the rounds only to return later, but she didn’t say as much now. “Soooo? Whatcha readin’?” He grinned, plopping down on the floor beside her seated position on the couch. She didn’t respond, didn’t change her expression, and merely kept reading. “C’mon!!! Reading’s boring!!! Well,” he tapped his finger on his lip pensively “not always! But your taste in books is! Let’s at least go find some good shit to read together!” She had not the mental or physical energy, the want nor the need to banter with him. As far as she was concerned, this… whatever it was, was over. 
 Kokichi sighed, taking the hint to stop talking but not the hint to leave her the fuck alone. She would not physically kick him out, he knew this, and it seemed she wouldn’t do it verbally either. It was safer not to be alone, she rationalized in her mind… well, only if the group knew who was paired up and when, but he would never hurt her… physically. And she would never hurt him. And so, Kokichi resolved to sit there, just sit there and stare: at the ceiling, at her, at his thumbs. After the first thirty minutes he began to make pretend snow angels on the ground with his arms and legs flopping together and apart. He lapped around the room a few times, looked through the DVD options, sat with her on the couch, moved closer, then further, then closer, back and forth trying to get some reaction. Usually he could at least annoy someone into paying attention to him. Even negative attention was still attention. She was never like this with him. This was bad… he could feel his selfish little heart ache.
 An hour passed, and then another. She’d picked up a sketch pad she’d stored in the couch cushions, doodled, changed books, and now was reading again. He’d begun running his fingers up and down her thigh, making explosion and car noises when he hit her knee. And finally, he spoke.
 “You know, you’re super brave to be down here alone, you know... before I got here I mean… or at all really. Place is spooky… haunted since Rantaro got murked. No one comes down here but you. Surprised you’re down here… but I guess you always are.” He could feel the stone wall she’d put up between them. “You know, it kinda sucks, that we lost Rantaro…”
 “...and Ryoma, and Tenko, and Kirumi, Angie, Kiyo, Kaede…” she spoke up, irritated by his flippance. “Don’t forget them like they don’t matter.” He twiddled his thumbs in response.
 “At least you didn’t die…” he tapped on the back of the book you were reading, making the pages shake before her eyes.
 “Like you’d care if I did,” she replied without hesitation.
 “I woooooould,” he pulled at her sleeve like a toddler aching to be picked up.
 “I’m ugly. I’m fat and hideous and a turn off and just disgusting, right? So who cares if I die?” She spoke like she was reciting a grocery list: monotone, uninterested.
 “Well… I can still care about ugly people…” he batted his eyelashes innocently. The look she shot him told him she was not in the mode for jokes. “B-but, you’re not ugly! You’re way hotter than Maki or Miu or any other hag here! I just said all that stuff to catch Miu off guard! It was all a lie!” He was getting nervous now, sitting upright beside her on the couch.
 “That is not an apology,” she rebuked.
 “Aww come on, forgive me!” He collapsed, resting face down on her stomach and stretching his body out on the cushions behind him. “You’re my best friend…” His words were muffled, but she could make them out still. “You’re more than that…” her ears perked up, and she began to hear sniveling. Slowly, a wetness began to seep through her shirt onto her abdomen.
 Was he…?
 She placed a single hand on the back of his black locks and ran her fingers through the messy mop. The other placed the book on the floor then joined the other. For a few peaceful moments they sat silently while she stroked his scalp and played with the waves.
 “I’m sorry…” an apology came through his sniffles, but he would not lift his head up, never in a million years would someone see him cry genuine tears.
 “I can’t hear you,” she lied, something she learned from him. A devious smirk he could not see crossed her lips.
 “Yes you can!” Muffled frustration vibrated her tummy.
 “Well since I can’t hear you anyway this conversation is ov-”
 His head shot upward, a snarl crossing his red, moist, puffy face. He pulled his knees up, leaning forward with all his weight
And pressed his lips deeply into hers.
319 notes · View notes
hercleverboy · 3 years
Note
Congrats!!! I love your writing!! I’d like to request a blurb with #36 from the general list and #41 from fluf 💕💕💕
thank you so much! enjoy! 
I don’t really like this piece too much, so please let me know what you think! 
wc ↠ 1.7k
General #36 ↠ “Do you trust me?” “No.”
Fluff #41 ↠ “You say you hate him but your red face is telling me otherwise.”
Spencer Reid had hated her from the moment he met her.
Y/N was absolutely sure of it. When they met for the first time when she joined the BAU, he seemed polite enough. Though he just never let her in the same way he let in the other team members. She understood at first, Spencer had known the rest of the team for years at that point. She even found herself incredibly attracted to the young genius, developing somewhat of a crush on him. His reputation certainly proceeded him, particularly when it came to his issues with germs, so she kept to herself. She understood it would take him time to get used to her, but where the rest of the team warmed to Y/N and accepted her as a part of their family; Spencer never did. 
During paperwork days when Y/N would get up to make coffee in the corner of the bullpen, Spencer would already be in the kitchenette, stirring his sugar in with intent. She’d always offer him a polite smile and some light conversation. However, it seemed that as soon as she started to speak, Spencer would pick up his coffee and head back to his desk. She let that go, thinking perhaps she was getting too much in his personal space, though it hung around in the back of her mind for weeks afterwards. 
 After cases when they’d get on the jet to go back home, she would take a seat opposite him, offer him a kind smile and then pull out a book to read, wholly intent on minding her own business. But Spencer, without even looking up at her, would simply get up and move to an empty seat at the other end of the jet.
Y/N exchanged a look with JJ, who had just shrugged in response. She couldn’t understand Spencer’s dislike for the woman who’d been nothing but kind, and who the team were all already incredibly fond of. She had good initiative, was brilliant in the field and had a capability to pick up on patterns earlier than the rest of them, sometimes even before the resident genius himself. The team suspected that Spencer’s supposed hatred for her was actually his poor attempt at disguising the fact that he was madly in love with her, but he never confirmed nor denied it. 
Then somehow, as if she didn’t already think Spencer hated her enough, it got worse. Any time she made contributions to their group conversations, Spencer would cut her off. It was belittling, honestly. It made her second guess her intelligence whenever she’d pose a theory. Every time, without fail, Spencer would pipe up and say, ‘You’re wrong. It’s actually more plausible that—‘ 
One day, they were sat around the roundtable, having finished debriefing after a long case. The team exchanged murmurs of plans to head down to the bar, with Garcia smiling enthusiastically and insisting that the first round was on her. Y/N had felt pretty awful for the majority of the case, and to top it off she was sure she was coming down with a cold too. 
“How about you, Y/L/N? You coming?” Morgan piped up, his usual smirk on his lips. 
She forced a smile, scoffing. “No, I think I’m just gonna head home, but thank you.” 
Morgan shook his head, determined. “Come on. Even Reid’s coming!” 
Y/N looked over at Spencer then, who busied himself with packing away items in his satchel, although she didn’t miss the scowl that seemed to plant itself on his face. She looked back to Morgan. “Sorry Morgan, I’m just not feeling it.” 
Morgan sighed, but still tried one last time, raising his eyebrows suggestively.  “You sure? It’ll be fun, maybe you and Reid will finally start getting along after a few drinks.” 
“Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sure there’s at least a hundred other people that Reid would rather spend the evening with.”
At that comment, Spencer threw his satchel strap over his shoulder and left the room in a hurry, a look on his face that seemingly resembled hurt. 
Y/N swatted Morgan’s shoulder playfully. “Look what you’ve done now! You know how much Reid hates me.” She whined. 
Morgan chuckled. “Please, Pretty Boy doesn’t hate you.” 
“Uh-huh, sure.” 
“It’s true! Don’t tell anyone I told you, but the team has an ongoing bet on when you two will finally admit your feelings for one another.” He leaned in closer to her. “And I’ve got $20 riding on it being in the summer, if you could help a guy out?” 
Y/N groaned at that. “Well be prepared to lose your money, it’s never going to happen. Spencer Reid hates me, and do you know what? I hate him too.” She said defiantly, although it was all too obvious that she was lying through her teeth. 
Morgan smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. “You say you hate him, but your red face is telling me otherwise.” 
Y/N just waved him off, ignoring how he chuckled at how flustered she’d gotten, and that was that. 
Reid’s quite frankly petty behaviour was really winding down on Y/N mentally, and although Hotch often told him off for his snarky comments or gave him the third degree for constantly trying to one-up her, Spencer persisted.
They’d been working on a new case for a week, and Garcia had just sent the team the location of where the unsub was holding his fourth victim hostage. Hopping out of the SUV’s, the team regrouped in front of the house as Hotch ran over the plan with them. 
“JJ, Morgan and Rossi, you’re with me. Y/L/N and Reid will take the back. We take the unsub in alive if possible, understand?” He instructed, everyone nodding as they reached for their guns. 
“Can’t you switch Morgan and Y/L/N over?” Spencer began to whine but was quickly shut down by Hotch shooting him a warning look. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in defeat. “Great.”
After entering through the back of the house, the two began checking each room they passed by. As they rounded a corner, stalking towards a closed door, Spencer moved so he was in front of Y/N, in what she noticed was an almost protective manner. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently for any sign that the unsub was inside. 
“Is he in there?” She whispered, and Spencer looked back at her, nodding. 
“I think so.” 
Y/N closed her eyes for a moment in thought, running over the important details of the profile in her head. “Do you trust me?” 
Spencer scoffed quietly. “No.”
“Well, you’re not going to have a choice.” She mumbled, and before Spencer realised what was happening, Y/N had burst open the door, her gun drawn. 
*
Y/N was stood in the local police station’s conference room, collecting together files and taking down crime scene photos from the evidence board. The case had ended well. Based off of the profile, Y/N had decided that the best course of action was to confront the unsub head on- and it worked, too. Hotch had already told her that she’d done well that day, and that made her heart swell with pride. But Spencer? He hadn’t said anything on the ride back to the police station, busying himself with other things as they prepared to head back home. 
Y/N sighed at the thought, looking up from the evidence board just as Spencer entered the room. He immediately turned around, heading back out the door when she called out for him. 
“Reid!” 
He stopped, turning back around. “What, Y/L/N?” 
“What is your problem with me?” She asked, exasperated. She was so tired of just accepting his mistreatment, and she refused to do it any longer. 
“I don’t have time for this.” He shook his head, turning to leave again. 
“Spencer Reid! You’ve made my life hell since I first joined the Bureau and god help me, you are going to tell me what your problem is!”
“My problem?” He countered, his jaw clenched. “My problem is you! Putting yourself in danger like that without a second thought for the consequences.” 
“The consequences? It turned out fine! My plan worked!” She bit back, voice rising. 
“It was stupid and reckless, you know better than that.” He spat, making Y/N scoff. 
“Why do you care?” She shouted frustratedly. “You can barely stand to be in the same room as me, and for the life of me Spencer I cannot figure out what it is that I did to make you hate me so much!”
Spencer’s defensive stance dropped, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find appropriate words. “Y/N, I know you think I do, but I don’t hate you.” 
She gave a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, well you could’ve fooled me.” She sighed, hands running over her face as she attempted to calm herself down. “I don’t understand why me putting myself in danger bothers you so much-”
“Maybe because I love you!”
The silence that fell between them only lasted a handful of seconds. Spencer, prompted by the look of shock on Y/N’s face, scrambled to explain himself. 
“I don’t hate you. I-I don’t really think I could if I tried.” He reiterated, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. “I’ve loved you since the day I first met you.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly so dry. “I don’t understand-“
“I’m so sorry, I know how poorly I’ve treated you. The only explanation I can offer is that I was so sure you wouldn’t feel the same that I thought it would be better to push you away than face rejection.” He whispered, moving closer to her, shame in his tone. 
“You love me?” She murmured in disbelief. The words barely left her lips, so faint and shaky that Spencer nearly hadn’t heard her. 
He laughed quietly, as though he was laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.” 
He’d moved to stand before her, the two of them looking at one another in absolute awe that they both felt the same way. Spencer’s eyes trailed down to her lips, moving back up to meet her eyes. 
Y/N didn’t know how to respond, looking up at him incredulously. “Spencer..”
He bit down his lip, the words leaving his lips in a whisper. “Would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?” 
She was nodding before she’d even processed his words, and when his lips met hers- it was euphoric. Like they were simply meant to be. 
Perhaps Spencer Reid wasn’t that bad after all.
252 notes · View notes
Text
Hermitopia AU Masterpost 1 [COMPLETE]
This is a gathering place for the events of the Hermitopia AU, as well as art and writing resulting from it (art and writing listed at the bottom). Please read the AU introduction and rules here before submitting! Feel free to join the discussions on the HCHC discord server!
(Disclaimer/PSA: All points are asks contributed by the community, the mods take no credit for the ideas within them)
If you would like specific credit in the masterpost, please sign within the text of the ask! (A dash and a signature at the end should do.) Asks not signed will be treated as anonymous.
Summary posts:
Not all elements of plot and character will be summarized, but here are a few basic things you may want to be familiar with before submitting an ask! (Unless you are purposely aiming to create an [ALTERNATE] idea for a Hermit)
1 - Starting positions and each Hermit's powers (based on the submissions from Day 1)
Summary post 2 - Interpersonal connections (based on Day 1 and 2 submissions)
Make sure to check out the second masterpost here for more up to date information, including newer art and writing!
Asks:
- (copied ask) [summarized mod comment]
- Hermitopia | Scar was experimented on by Cub. He gained dangerous powers and wings that resemble a dragon’s, but he keeps both hidden. Unless someone makes him angry. He has no idea who gave him his powers. Eventually he and Cub decided that they wanted to control things beyond their corporation, so Scar ran for mayor. (there are things to fill in but im lazy) [Scar assumes he got the powers in an accident during research. He enjoys having them but has no idea that they were intentional.]
- Hermitopia AU team ZIT is a superpowered crime-fighting trio!
- owing to a very particular set of guidelines he put in place, Joe can now copy powers if he sees them in use and can reverse-engineer how those powers are used. needless to say, this is massively overpowered in the right hands.but it got worse. at some point, there was an... incident... on ConCorp grounds, something to do with a mass amount of entities causing time dilation -- and Joe was caught in the thick of it, unable to be rescued for a while.the problem is, he got out by piecing together how the time dilation worked.needless to say, Joe... has a ridiculous powerset. so he chooses largely not to use his powers anymore unless it's absolutely dire or petty enough to shrug off as a random occurrence. nobody needs to know that one of the most powerful Unaffiliated in the city is standing right in front of them... especially not ConCorp.
- doc was a former high ranking employee of concorp before he volunteered for an experiment and it went horribly wrong. since then, the company has tried to erase any evidence of his existence. doc is now seeking revenge for all that the company did to him and is determined to tear it apart
- HI ok follow up asks will be sent later when my thoughts are coherent but concept: cleo has like super messed up healing powers where she can make healing go Too Far. also i pin her as unbound, considering, like, everything - shovel-shuffle
- So, his power was meant to be super-regen, right? except things don't always quite go to plan. Someone volunteered for the powers surgeries and is arguably dead. Etho is a name shared by the many many clones that developed themselves out of the leftovers. They're not quite individuals, not quite a hivemind. Any one of them has no fear of death because the others will continue, but they all act independently around their overarching goal. (which I won't snitch about) - DragonKay
- Bdubs was a hero. Key word? Was. He climbed the ranks through the government, he was a loyal and dutiful member of society, and he used his plant manipulation powers to subdue evil-doers without hurting them. But he’s always been a friendly guy, and he couldn’t help himself—talking to the Unrestrained, especially those in custody, was interesting! ...but it’s a slippery slope to walk, being friendly with the enemy and not sympathizing to their cause. Nobody knows where he is now, but there are rumours of a vigilante with similar abilities, and his three compatriots, two of whom he helped escape from ConCorp... They call themselves the nHo. - slimetek [Bdubs deserted Concorp while helping Doc escape after his experiment went wrong]
- Concorp managed to make a device that allows animals to speak or translate their thoughts into writing. This means that the good old mayor Scar has a certain cat giving some advice on how to run the city.
- Iskall is an assasin/mercenary against their own volition. An accident they'd rather forget almost killed them, and in exchange for their freedom and free will they got to live as a cyborg. Though its hard to forget with the implant that covers their eye and the limb of cool metal hanging at their side - @ghastly-ghostie [Iskall works for Concorp off-books, bound by the debt owed to them for the life saving experimental modifications]
- so I think grians original powers could be like cloning, but something goes wrong and the clones are different people. as a result of the duplication process, some funky magic rocks are made. the clones decide to take most of the funky rocks and run off, leaving grian with one rock that gives him some new abilities and the clones' rocks give him others. also uhh mechanical wings bc yes. so grians plot is him trying to find them while also causing problems on purpose. infinity stones. update to my grian ask from earlier, I had better ideas: the rocks are old like magic things that grian finds before the cloning and ends up collecting, but his clones snatch them - simplyskipper [some of the alternate Grians are aligned with different factions in Hermitopia, while the locations of others are farther or unknown]
- Hermitopia- Impulse has solid-light powers. He has golden crystals implanted in his hands, which he can reflect light through to solidify it into all sorts of shapes. This can be used to make barriers, projectiles, and much more, though more detailed constructs take more time.- @mleemwyvern
- Hermitopia AU Poultry man is a well-known chaotic neutral leaning towards good, as a one of the unrestrained.
- I think Team ZIT should be a little be wild card-y, that's how they act after all! [they are employed by the government for standard crimefighting, but they don't always take Scar's word at its intended meaning and often play a bit on the chaotic side when given instructions]
- [Hermitopia AU] False is an antihero/vigilante type who's specialty is not defined by powers or the such, but just... the absolute skill of being able to dual wield two (more sci-fi era) short swords. Maybe someone upgrades them to be "enchanted" (electrical, fire, etc. something that tech could do well probably). She's willing to be paid-for-hire, but if you go past her moral line she's also willin' to backstab you. -- @cheshire-vex [she's a free agent who sort of drifts between Concorp, the government, and whoever else will pay her on a job-by-job basis]
- Hermitopia impulse has more connections then one may think. He has ties to people pretty much everywhere, for reasons unknown. There is a 100% someone will come and greet him wherever he goes. [the greetings are usually friendly]
- Hermitopia Au! Keralis is a hero who most people wouldn't expect to be too skilled at fighting. His power is similar to hypnosis so he has no need to get very physical. Yeah, that changed when some bastard villain decided to attack his friends shop. [that incident caused his employer Scar to realize his untapped potential for protecting people and assign him to a few more high-stakes jobs]
- Hermittopia!TFC was one of ConCorp’s first experiments and as such his powers are a bit less...refined then the others. He has geokinetic powers, allowing him to psychically control rocks and other earthen materials. He used to be one of the VEX programs top graduates, but has since parted ways with them for unknown reasons and now operates his own plans of keep crime in Hermitopia under control. -lechairpourriedegrianri [he is considered Unaffiliated and both Concorp and the government largely leave him to his own devices, since he is helping to keep the city together]
-Wels doesn't have powers. He does have a super-suit made of fire and heat resistant carbon fibre (like the material used for the space shuttle) and has a built in hologram projector. One time, he used the hologram projector to project an image of himself, which everyone thought was a clone. He didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. (AKA everyone thinks Wels has powers but he doesn't) -Silverwolf53 [he got the suit in Project VEX]
- To follow up on the Impulse ask- Team ZIT are a space-themed superhero team. Government-aligned, at least for now.Tango has meteor-like powers, he can shoot fire from his hands and feet and often uses this to propel himself at high speeds. Zed has gravity powers! He can increase or decrease the density of any object, to the point of making small black holes. They all have space-themed costumes, and it was probably Zed's idea. - @mleemwyvern
- TFC was the first participant in project VEX
- Grian was an attempted success. It fixed some problems with Etho's unintended cloning, but at the same time created some problems of its own, seeing as the clones appeared to have a life of their own.It's fine, though. It's probably fine
- I would say Grian is unrestrained, a bit like Etho, Chaotic in his own way. Does not activily Try to hurt people, but does mostly what he wants for fun.-Ciara
- Xisuma is a civilian- he has hero friends, but despite all their teasing he’s never wanted to go through VEX training. But in the night, the unrestrained Void walks the streets [Void is a symbiotic creature made of nothingness that uses Xisuma's body as a substitute physical form]
- Bdubs was such a good man... he could be trusted to look after Doc, couldn’t he? Somebody had to oversee him, somebody who was reliable and would never, ever consider betraying the mayor and ConCorp...They let their guard down, and Bdubs got curious. Bdubs made a friend.And then they lost him.- Slimetek
- The hels hermits are considered evil by default. How do you spot these clones, how could you protect yourself? Well in the past it was a lot easier, just look for their red eyesNowadays contacts exist but that doesn't stop people trying to call the police on tango, calling him a hels. Hes netherian, they have unnatural eye colours and their iris fills the entire eye, hes not evil but if people keep doing this hes gonna be!
- Beef woke up from his brain surgery to receive telepathy powers, took one look into the mind of the overseer, and noped put of there as fast as he could go.He's on very public record. After all, the mind control he may be capable of is a very convenient explanation for anyone who turns against concorp... ~DragonKay
- Hypno can’t control minds.They say he does. It’s why he’s named Hypno, after all.In reality, he can’t control people like that... but he can control what they see.Your best friend might look like your greatest enemy. A pit of lava might look like solid ground. A 100-foot drop might look like a step down.It’s a good thing he’s a hero, and a good thing he keeps his true powers hidden beneath a guise of low-level hypnotism. There’s no telling what he could do if they let him go. [he works for Concorp, helping to protect VEX trainees from people trying to harm them before they get a chance to finish the program, as well as keeping other resources safe]
- The 9th Street Incident [referring to an earlier Impulse comment] was a friendly greeting. That particular version of Etho just thought that drawing weapons would be a friendly greeting for Impulse, but Tango and Zed seem to disagree
- They still don’t trust Bdubs. He was with the government for a long time, and things are hard out there on the run. Besides, they don’t know what he got up to there. ConCorp could have any sort of information on him, something that might scare him back.Bdubs understands this. He doesn’t want to go back. He’d hate to go back....but they think he will, and maybe there’s something he’s not telling them. An ace that ConCorp has yet to play.- Slimetek
- Mumbo works for concorp as an engineer specialising in robotics, most recently taking on the task of maintaining Iskall's cybernetics that somehow they just keep damaging. Iskall assures him they're just.. very clumsy. So far Mumbo hasn't caught on.
- Ren's power is that hes a werewolf, but he only found out when he was in his late teens with his childhood friend Iskall. He still feels guilty about it, he did kill his best friend afterall. Or so he thinks.He's lived off grid ever since, too overwhelmed with grief and guilt to rejoin society. Most assume he's dead too - @ghastly-ghostie [Ren dropped Iskall off to Concorp as a last ditch effort, running away before he could see whether they took his friend in or not. They did, starting Iskall's plotline. Iskall told Concorp about Ren's abilities, triggering a panic in the Concorp ranks at the fact that Ren is a superhuman being created by some force other than their own project]
- Where does Void come from? The same place all powers come from.Little did they know, something survived the crash and has taken a human host. Maybe it's not the only one...No, that place is not Concorp. Concorp's original goal was to develop technology by reverse-engineering from a crashed alien spaceship. These aliens did gene-editing the way some people do nose jobs, so they adapted that technology, too.~DragonKay
- i've already said a bit about it in the discord but i have hermitopia cleo brainrot. joe being there was able to save her by giving her the regen powers along with her puppeteering telekinesis power. anyways cleo is presumed dead, sent by concorp into a mission as fodder basically until zit could arrive. but now there's is one (1) bitter undead vigilante against concorp that is presumed dead
- Stress’s name has a few meanings in relation to her. Whenever she gets too angry or /stressed/, she transforms into the StressMonster, a monster that feeds off of other people’s stress to become more powerful. Luckily, the monster is rarely seen, but does terrible things when she is. She’s one of the most feared creatures in Hermitopia. Stress hates her and tries her best to hide her from her friends, but it can backfire sometimes. - @guster-animations
- to follow-up on Joe being presumed dead: remember the time dilation incident he was stuck in? ConCorp figured it was best to cut their losses and not try to send anyone in to rescue him -- it would be a pointless mission. so they abandoned him, quietly announced that he had died in the line of duty, and put the affected area under high security clearance in order to prevent any future accidents. they figured he was already dead. and Joe figures, given that they up and abandoned him, maybe it's for the best that they continue to figure just that. he changed his last name to "Hills" -- a joke about the biome containing the time anomaly -- and otherwise proceeded to stay under the radar. he still uses the time dilation area as a base of operations, sometimes; it's very useful to have a hideout that people physically cannot get into/out of without his direct assistance. is he nursing a grudge, coming up with some convoluted scheme to get back at the paramilitary group for abandoning him? or does he just want to live a relatively normal life off the grid? who knows. that's the Joe [REDACTED] Hills difference. -@betweenlands
- False has some big scary power that is almost Eldritch she just happens to prefer a sword and doesn’t really care for who she works for as long as they’re paying... (they don’t need to know of the power that had harmed the ones she loves the most)
- Keralis once encountered Void sulking around where Xisuma worked. So fearful for his friend’s safety, he used his power on Void and told him to go away. Apparently the charm is still active, because if Void spots Keralis anywhere, he’ll turn tail and run. No, it’s not because he’s scared. Absolutely not.
- Grumbot serves as a sentient supercomputer created by Mumbo for Grian. Grian is using Grumbot for... various activities, all of which harmless, but a certain evil clone [Helsknight] has reverse engineered the technology. Concorp would like for Mumbo to give them the tech, but mumbo stuck some eyes to the computer, got emotionally attached, and refuses to give up his baby boy.
- When Impulse hears his friend/colleague Bdubs has been "taken over" by the mind-controller [Beef], he wants to go on an off-the-books mission to rescue him! Just giving up like they were told to isn't in his nature.Of course the rest of ZIT are with him. Heroes save people! It's what they do!~DragonKay
- Hermitopia is a mixture of sleek futuristic and cyberpunk in terms of style. It really depends on where you live and work (ik this doesnt include any hermits but whatever) - @ghastly-ghostie
- I wonder if Cleo's overactive healing powers affect herself and if any injuries she receives immediately heal over like wolverine or deadpool
- Ren used to be friends with Cleo too, but then she died. Strangely enough, she died on the same day that Ren killed Iskall. Ren’s lost all his friends. It’s hard living in isolation when there’s no one left that even cares about you. (Unless— no, that’s impossible.)
- I was thinking about Biffa, like you do. And Biffa would totally be some robot that was created by Project VEX in its early stages, however they realised fast that it was easier to use humans and give them powers, maybe its not their strong suit with robots. But Biff went sentient and glitched and was scrapped so hes just out there doing his thing. Hes a wildcard and plays for which side he wants at the time, sometimes he'll help or sometimes hes the one causing trouble. He looks pretty similar to a android like in Detroit:Become human but hes a bit uncanny and eerie, maybe its the eyes or the blood red armour. Powerwise, he's got more strength than a human does, mainly because he isn't limited like others are. try not to get punched by him, it'll hurt! [He's convinced Concorp will destroy him if they find out he's alive and Unaffiliated] -lucodak
- Going off of my thing about hermotopia impulse having friends everywhere....this may include the nho. Okay, they beat him to a pulp on one of his solo patrols once, but theey felt bad n patched him up! He has to keep it a secret. He brings them dinner alot. And checks in on them.
- Beef is the perfect cover-up for Bdubs’ desertion. ConCorp doesn’t want any other employees getting bright ideas, now, do they? Nor do they want employees getting nosy and trying to figure out where Bdubs went. They don’t have to tell people what Beef’s powers are. They just release that he developed powers after brain surgery, and a rumour that he was spotted lurking around before Bdubs suddenly betrayed ConCorp... and people draw their own conclusions. -Slimetek
- xB is pretty sure he’s supposed to be evil.I mean, that’s what sentient AIs usually end up being, according to a quick internet search. And yet he’s... not. Or maybe he’s just on the wrong side. - Slimetek
- Yes impulse is friends with the nho....what he doesn't know? He's....easily susceptible to hypnosis. Very easily.......Of course, after impulse is basically a very tired n warm cuddle bug, so, cuddle piles tend to happen after all information is spilled. He must've fallen asleep at their apartment again! Whoops! But it's okay.....they take good care of him if he does! [Beef is using his mind reading ability on Impulse without his knowledge, to make sure that he hasn't spilled their location and to predict the government's next moves. He feels slightly bad about it but feels that it is necessary for the nHo's survival.]
- So far, Grian has only ever encountered two of his clones, NPC Grian and Robot Grian. Technically three, if one were to count Ariana Griande. Grian doesn't really, but some do. [Ariana Griande is a popular musician in Hermitopia who is building a career using the magical stone of voice enhancement she recieved through the cloning process]
- To handle the two Grumbot issue: the one working with Helsknight can be Jrumbot, a legion of robot drones meant to work as Grumbot’s physical form that ended up being hijacked by Helsknight and turned against ConCorp
- There...aren’t a lot of “normal” animals left in Hermittopia. ConCorp took one look at the animals populating the city and decided that, hey, they could make some improvements. Species after species, they modified their behavior, appearance, internal structure, whatever they could fix, tweak, or add. They were just improving their lives and the lives of the citizens of Hermittopia, after all, but the new animals quickly outcompeted the old for resources and habitats. And if it makes it easier for ConCorp to stick a camera in one or two of them, or set up robotic animals to keep a better eye on the city, no harm, no foul, right?(Bonus: there is one (1) singular cat left in Hermittopia, resulting in a spy movie-style heist where two teams of Hermits attempt to “rescue” the cat simultaneously. The cat keeps wandering away from both teams. Shenanigans ensue)- Adonis [the cat is Jellie, who orchestrated the competition between Team ZIT and Cleo and Joe for her own entertainment, getting away from both parties in the end]
- The Leak:Not all mutations are the result of controlled experiments! If some alien tech got away from the crash site, concorp never would have picked it up. It might have got into nature, not as refined as they made it in the labs but causing little changes here and there. Ren may have become a werewolf from being bitten by a mutant wolf~DragonKay
- Impulse is able to use his powers to create illusions or male things appear invisible! Sort of. After all, light dictates what we see. It takes a lot of focus, though, so it's not that practical. -@rayveewrites
- The one thing Hels wasn't able to steal was the cloning technology, hence his hostility with Concorp -- he needs the cloning device, because how else is the void going to get a body of their own? - SilverWolf53
- *glances at the hermitopia werewolf ask* okay but what if the same mystery people who made ren into a werewolf also created jevin, and maybe Etho? idk if either of them have been given any hermitopia headcanons yet lol. but im sure the same people who made a werewolf could make a sentient slime (or perhaps rescue one) or make... whatever etho is. [Since the "second organization" is an incorrect assumption believed by Concorp, Jevin was created when he came in contact with a waterway contaminated by The Leak. Concorp assumes he was created by an opposing organization and not by accident, and therefore would like to bring him in along with Ren.]
- hermitopia - mumbo and grian were friends back when cloning experiments were still happening (or . as friendly as you can be with someone who's treating you like a lab rat), but after everything went wrong and grian escaped, mumbo has his memories wiped nd thats why he's trusted w iskall's stuff? bc he inherently remembers working on high-level things without knowing where he learnt it - muscle memory, yk?anyway massive angst with grian maybe recognising mumbo, but not the other way round, and trying to rekindle their friendship? and that's where grumbot comes in? -gin [Mumbo's memory was wiped so that he would forget the deadly purpose of Iskall's cybernetics, which he was working on at the same time as the Grian project in the background. Mumbo does not remember creating Grian's mechanical wings or Iskall's arm and eye, and he has no memory of either individual previous to "meeting" Iskall as the person assigned to his repair and upkeep.]
- Etho doesn't so much have powers as he is powers. All the powers the ‘original’ had went into creating him; now he just exists, as whatever sort of being he is. Not a human one, that much is obvious. ~DragonKay [Etho has no powers beyond the hivemind and his training, due to the error in the experiment that caused the clones]
- Mumbo started the button as a joke. A nonsense social expirement to see how much people want worthless signs of status. Unfortunately things got out of hand, and violent too. But hey! It's not his fault that the five special anomalous stones were misplaced into the prize dispenser! It was just chance that they fell into the hands of the clone of the worst gremlin in the city! Don't fire him! [He was not fired, but Cub was Decidedly Unhappy with him for a good long while]
- Void mostly trashes ConCorp facilities- trying to figure out if any of his siblings survived the spaceship crash, but occasionally he’ll pilfer from a bakery, because X is a health nut and Void just wants a gods damned cookie [Void very much dislikes unseasoned chicken]
- If the Stress Monster gets too big, too dangerous, Cleo is sworn under oath to Stress to zap her with her healing powers. Cleo doesn’t like to do it, overhealing a stressed Stress makes her so calm she gets knocked out for a couple of days, but Stress can take a small comfort in the fact that at least one person out there can stop her
- Ooh with the self healing Cleo she'd be able to develop a small amount of super strength, with how the mind keeps from going full throttle because it would destroy the body once she gets over it it's hysterical strength whenever she wants [it is quite painful, but a good backup plan]
- Being a hive mind of disposable clones that can spawn new copies at will, it can sometimes be hard for the Etho Entity to remember that it is indeed a big deal for other people when they get hurt. This can make him come off as callous to those around him, placing him firmly in the "villain" category in most citizen's books, but he really doesn't intend any harm!
- Grian used to be tall, but then the cloning happened. With each clone they stole a little bit of his height making him the short man he is today. He needs to capture those clones and get his height back. [Grian isn't entirely sure how to accomplish this, but he's dead set on trying! He misses being tall!]
- While Grian was perfectly fine with Ariana Griande living her own life, he did insist on one thing.Her "older brother" getting backstage access whenever she was on tour. He's very proud and supportive of her and her music career.
- Mumbo is perfectly content working in tech, watching the other hermits get up to crazy shenanigans. Except of course, there was that one time he was out testing some new gear and accidentally saved a crowd from some villains... and there were all those times after too...But hey! It’s not his fault that people like him, and he certainly isn’t going to get caught by Concorp during his after hours activities. [Mumbo considers himself an accidental hobbyist, not thinking he has the nerve or the skill for proper hero work. Time will tell if he's right about that or not...but unfortunately, he probably is. This should be fun.]
- There’s still some people overseeing VEX, even over Cub. They’re the ones that push Cub to do certain experiments or to scrap one. They’re the ones to give Cub the decision for Iskall’s life debt. Scar was under them too for the longest time, but eventually he wanted out. Cub still wanted in. They were still in the right, right? That’s what they tell him. He’s starting to doubt it. [Cub is way too invested in everything he's built to even think about going rogue now, but he does resent and occasionally question the judgement of his superiors increasingly as his project begins to fail more and more often. He also fears that Scar's shift in career will be seen as a betrayal, rather than as a tactical attempt to gain the company influence in the government.]
- Been thinking about the impulse + nho asks and just,,, what would happen if concorp/the government found out? It cant be good with interrogation/hypnosis on both sides (incase you cant tell,, the brainrot got me as well) (apologies if this is a mess im excited) [Hypno is assigned to set up an illusionary conversation to make Impulse reveal nHo location to Concorp and government agents while thinking that he's actually talking to the nHo in a random encounter]
- The one mind Beef can't read is Etho's. Their hivemind is just too weird for him to comprehend. If he ever tries to listen in, it sounds like just a bunch of static from an old TV.
- for hermitopia au!: Out of most of the heros, the most reckless may be team zit. sure they tell themselves they'll plan out missions but it's hard when they share a braincell and tango just runs in. impulse and zed share a look everytime and have to run after him to make sure he doesn't get too hurt or overwhelmed by the enemy. in their defence its hard to plan ahead against an enemy when you dont know what they are thinking.-lucodak ["You might not have known what they were thinking, Tango, but we'd generally like you to know what you're thinking!"]
- i bet ConCorp really wants to make it out like theres some secret shady organization creating all these people with mutations, rather than their own operatives deserting and their own failure to contain dangerous chemicals... whether its malicious coverups or just ignorance to the fact they messed up, wonder what would happen if that sort of thing came to light...? [If they found out that the unintentional superhumans were a result of the poorly-contained crash site? Cub would lose his job...maybe worse. If Cub found out (and he hasn't, yet) he would do everything in his power to keep that information from his superiors.]
- (paraphrased) Impulse accidentally walks in on heroes and agents breaking down the doors of the nHo's hideout and confronting them. Scar claims that they did so on information Impulse himself provided and thanks him for his service. Impulse, feeling confused and betrayed, resists Hypno's attempts to illusion him back to Scar's side and flees the scene with the nHo, knowing very little other than the fact that he doesn't want to be manipulated by the government any more (and still not knowing that Beef has been reading his mind)
- Impulse may have been labeled a traitor. But do you really think that Impulse, secret rebel, starting to learn how dangerous and corrupted Concorp really is, wouldn't let his best friends know about the danger they might be in? I think Team ZIT is more loyal to each other than to the government. - @mleemwyvern [ Impulse's first stop after escaping with the nHo is to find a place to secretly meet Tango and Zedaph and tell them about the way he was tricked. It takes a lot of explaining and a lot of trust, but they eventually decide to believe his claims and are left with a choice: will they openly go rogue and become a target along with Impulse and the rest of the nHo, or are they better off using their established image and reputation to keep an eye on the government heros' movements from the inside?]
- (two asks combined, paraphrased) Ren runs out of supplies and decides to head back into the city, confident in his ability to stay off the grid after so many years of experience and such a long time away. Once there, he runs into Doc, and they hit it off quite quickly. However, the more Ren talks the more Doc realizes - with his ex-Concorp knowledge - that Ren matches the description of Iskall's main target exactly. He warns Ren, who is then faced with the knowledge that Iskall is alive and assigned to kill him...so many questions and so many tears to follow...
- Why did Hermitopia start needing heroes? When the Unrestrained started to appear, if course. Why did the Unrestrained start to appear? A question asked a little less. When did the VEX program start? When did they start taking more risks? When did they stop caring about certainty and safety and shift towards trying to push boundaries they weren't ready to? People can be so enamoured with the concept of superhuman abilities, something bright and glorious and good- and perhaps they could have that too- they don't ask all the right questions. It's all an elaborate game of damage control, don't let the flashy heroics fool you, they've made mistakes, terrible, terrible mistakes, and now there are villains running loose with powers they fooled ConCorp into giving them. Are they villains? Are they victims? Does it matter? They're causing problems. [Project VEX has developed into a solution to its own problems, a self perpetuating cycle...one that Cub, as a businessman, is very familiar with. It's what keeps the wheels of industry turning. It's what keeps innovation creeping forward. It wasn't intentional, not this time...but if it keeps his project alive, he'll take it.]
- One time, Jevin had narrowly dodged being captured by Concorp. He was laying low in the forest out of town, when he had a run-in with some sort of wolf creature. Thankfully, claws and teeth couldn't exactly hurt him anymore, so he just played dead until it gave up.When the moon set, the wolf-thing slowly transformed into a human being. Ren was horrified at the thought he'd lost control and hurt someone- again- but Jevin assured him he was fine. Jevin got the feeling that the werewolf needed a friend, and Jevin himself needed a place to stay for a while... -RayveeWrites [Ren and Jevin are not currently in the same location, but they each have a means of contacting each other for help if needed]
- Worm Man wasn't a well- known super, but plenty of people have noticed that he seemed to vanish at the same time Team ZIT first started active duty. Those people have also noticed that one of the members has a very similar power set to WM.Officially, that's just a coincidence. Officially.-RayveeWrites [Zedaph was trying to get some unofficial practice while still in training in the VEX program]
- A common misconception is that Bdubs conjures up his vines from nowhere. He can't.Like any plant, his vines grow from seeds. They grow unnaturally fast, when Bdubs wills it, but they have to come from seeds. Where do these seeds come from, you may ask?Well, a long time ago, Bdubs ingested some strange fruits. Somehow, in wild defiance of human biology, the seeds contained in those fruits worked their way into his muscles and germinated. Some of the roots worked their way into his brain and fused into it; the rest spread through his muscles, grew beneath his skin, coiled around his bones. Thanks to the way the vines connected to his brain, Bdubs is able to command the vines, and their magic, at will.The vines produce seeds; some stay in his body to replace the old ones when they die, and most work their way into a pair of 'seed pods' in his wrists. Bdubs provides the nutrients, the energy; the vines provide the seeds, the magic. As an extra bonus: if the vines were to be totally removed from Bdubs' body, he would be at best extremely weak, and at worst dead. The vines have grown into his muscles, to the point where they've essentially replaced them in some areas. It's fortunate that they connected with his mind so early on, otherwise he'd be dead. -RayveeWrites [Concorp developed the fruit, and the fact that Bdubs is evidence of the unlikely success of that experiment makes them all the more angry at his betrayal]
- A lot of excellent xB information (it's too long to copy but please read it it's very good)
- Iskall has exactly one (1) failed assignment. That assignment? The kill or capture of Stress. Stress and Iskall have been, or should it be were now, friends for a very long time, since before Iskall even met Ren. So one can imagine the stress this causes Iskall, to be told to kill his one remaining friend that he knows is alive. Of course, this stress is quite enough to to Stress's Stress Monster into one it's strongest yet seen forms, allowing for Stress to then get away. (1/2)(2/2) Of course, Con Corp doesn't- and can never- know the true reason that Iskall cannot kill or capture Stress. If they knew, if they subjected Stress to the same hell he's in- no, that cannot happen. So Iskall hires False to protect Stress, to interfere whenever they send him on a mission for her. Luckily, False is good at keeping secrets when she wants to, and this one she'll keep. But as far as Con Corp knows, Iskall has severe stress and trauma from being a cyborg, and that's why he fails. [This all adds up to a monumental waste of Concorp's time and money, which also results in False getting payed, so all parties involved are happy except for Concorp >:)]
- Impulse would take a bullet for his teammates, and he knows they might be about to take one for him, keeping him updated on what's going on government side of this... slander. Still, Tango and Zed are great actors, and if he didn't know better, he might be a little worried they would *actually* be hunting him down in the name of justice [Tango and Zed are now being sent on missions to retrieve Impulse, which they must pretend to lose believably. They occasionally overestimate their friend's abilities and give him a few more close calls than he'd like, but overall the ruse is holding up.]
Writing:
- Wels, Hels, TFC, and Grumbot
- Bdubs Concorp promotion and desertion
- Joe Hills in his time dilation hideout
- Etho clones, ZIT, and the nHo
- Keralis and Void
- [ALTERNATE] Reveal of Impulse's situation with the nHo
Art:
- Impulse suit design
98 notes · View notes
soggy-platee · 3 years
Text
What Do We Do Now?- Chp. 1
Rating: E for now, explicit in later chapters
Pairing: Din x fem!Reader
Summary: A certain Mandalorian picks up your bounty.
Read on ao3 here!
Tumblr media
You were really regretting your decision to not cut your hair this morning, as it was the sole reason you were currently face down in some dusty cantina with both of your wrists in a bruising grip behind your back.
In the spare moment you have in the time it takes for the Mandalorian to slap a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, you think back to the events earlier that day.
Tatooine was hot, and you hated it. You had been hiding on the dusty little planet for a little over 3 months. With a bounty looming over your head, you knew you needed to find a planet where the Guild no longer operated. Tatooine wasn’t the best option, still filled to the brim with Outer Rim scum, but it would work.
At least, you thought it would.
You stared at yourself in the small mirror, in the small refresher, within the even smaller flat you managed to rent out with your limited supply of credits. Tired eyes stared back at you, this whole “fugitive of the law” was getting to you. You took to the role pretty well, however. You knew you weren’t notable, and that’s the way you liked it. Average height, average build, average everything. You knew standing out would get you into trouble, so you did your best to avoid it at all costs. The only reprieve from this normality you allowed yourself was your hair. It was exceptionally long for a blazing planet like the one you currently resided on. When braided, how you normally wore it, in one long rope down your back, it easily reached the curve of your ass.
Today, like every day, you thought about cutting it off at the nape of your neck. You knew it would be better for you in the long run.
It would at least cool me off, you thought sourly.
Despite the logic in it, you could never bring yourself to do it. Maybe it had to do with your mother and the often horrific haircuts she managed to give you consistently as a child. You shivered at the thought of your mother finding out about the bounty on your head. She would kill you herself.
You didn’t mean to end up like this. Parents dead, no family left, and most importantly, no credits had left you in a tight spot as a young woman in the Outer Rim. You knew there were only two options for someone in your position, and you certainly were not pretty enough to make money off the most common option, so you became a thief. Petty at first, only stealing from those you deemed deserving. As you grew older, however, so did your crimes. Larger values, higher-profile targets, until you stole from the wrong person. Well, not stole per se. More like freed. Some high-profile dignitary from the Empire who still had influence. You had only planned to take the typical valuables, credits, and such. It was only by coincidence that you happened to free what you assumed was a typical house slave.
She had found you mid-job, begged you to get her out. She had looked so broken. So innocent. You cursed to yourself and hauled her out of the mansion with you.
Apparently, that “house slave” had really been “Mrs. Important Dignitary”, so essentially, you stole the guy’s wife. Great. If only you hadn’t been so soft. You knew it would get you in trouble. You knew-
You were shaken out of your thoughts by voices outside your window.
One soft, speaking so quickly they were almost tripping over their words. You creaked the door to the fresher and peaked your head out just enough to see though the small window in the side of your flat and into the alley beyond. You saw the quiet figure, but couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying. A young man you realized now was a local of the area, you had seen him around. But why did he look so scared? You craned your neck in an attempt to see who was frightening this man so, but you couldn’t do it without being directly in the mystery man’s eyeline. So you waited for a response as the other man trailed off. However, one never came. You simply saw a wild reflection of the light of the suns dance over the ally as you assumed the other person turned to walk away.
Armor, your stomach dropped as your mind supplied the explanation. Whether or not this person was here for you was still up for debate, but you knew they were dangerous. Only dangerous people still wore armor in the face of the blazing heat of Tatooine.
Once you were sure the armor-wearer had left, you snuck out of the fresher, grabbed your blaster, and vaulted quietly out the window to tail the other man. You fell into step behind him as he exited the ally and entered the busy street. You followed him through the crowd, staying enough paces behind him that he didn’t notice. You followed him for a good five minutes before he took an abrupt turn down another deserted alley. It was at this point he noticed you following him and tried to break into a sprint.
You were on him before he could even let the first beat land, pressing him up against a building lining the way with your arm at his sternum. He was taller than you, so you pointed your blaster up and dug it under his chin.
“Who the hell were you talking to?” you demanded, dropping your voice to the most intimidating octave you could muster.
The man in front of you sputtered, eyes wide with fear. You needed an answer.
You dug your blaster harder into the soft flesh under his jaw, presumably making it harder to breathe.
“Who?!” you practically growled at him, hoping it would do the trick
The man opened his mouth as if to answer you before the words died in his mouth. His eyes went even wider than before, if that was possible, and fixed on something above and behind your head. Your eyes remained on the man, but something behind him distracted you just as equally.
The same dancing lights you had just seen outside your flat made their way across the building behind the two of you. Your head whipped around to see a wall of armor standing at the mouth of the ally.
That bastard sent a Mandalorian? You were dead. That’s it, game over. Dead.
Even though your brain knew you were dead, your instincts still kicked in enough to release the man and shove him toward the entrance of the ally in one swift motion before taking off in the opposite direction. You fought the urge to turn back as you ran harder than you ever had in your life.
He knew I saw him question that man, he knew I would follow him to get answers.
At least you would get taken down by a clever bounty hunter.
More pressingly, you were coming to the end of the ally, closed off by a large gate. No way over it, you thought, too high. Sides? Pressed flush against the building, no getting through there. Bottom? Now there’s an option. The bottom was just high enough off the ground for you to shimmy through. Even though you only caught a glimpse of the Mandalorian, you knew he was too bulky to ever follow.
You might actually get away with this.
You dared yourself a glance back and the Mandalorian was nearly on you.
How is he so fast with all that shit on him?
You were only a few paces from the fence, it was now or never. You dove. Your upper body sparked in pain as you impacted the rough dirt. You slid smoothly until your ass hit the fence. Dammit. You desperately shimmied the rest of the way under the fence. You were almost there. You were going to make it.
Then you felt a grip on your boot, the only part of you not under the fence. You yelped loudly as you were ruthlessly pulled back, the majority of your calf returning to the other side. Your fingers clawed at the ground and your other leg kicked desperately at the gloved hand that held you.
Maker, he’s too strong
With another tug, you were almost up to your knees on the other side of the fence. While you were grunting and panting hard, the helmet behind you was absolutely silent, unnervingly so.
You knew you had to come up with something now. He still only managed to have you around your left ankle, so you brought your other foot up and pushed at the top of your left boot, hard. It slid free of your foot, and with one more push, your socked foot came out and pushed off the ground for leverage. He grabbed only a moment late as the last bits of you slipped under the fence. You kicked desperately at the ground and ran, only pausing when you were sure there was an absence of footsteps behind you.
You turned briefly and saw the Mandalorian standing there. A thrill ran through you.
What?
This man was trying to kill you, and yet the sight of him just standing there, glowering, still gripping your boot in his hand sent fire to the pit of your stomach. He was tall, taller than you first realized. Even in the alley far apart he seemed to crowd over you with his presence alone. You met where you assumed his eyes would be behind the t-shaped visor.
You could only imagine what he saw. Your eyes wide, mouth open, covered in dirt and wearing only one shoe.
This image of yourself roused you from your frankly insane thoughts, and you turned and ran.
After getting over what little pride you had garnered from managing to escape a Mandalorian, you realized how absolutely fucked you were.
Where were you supposed to go?
You couldn’t go back to your flat, that was out of the question. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and liked in town, that would automatically put them in danger. You couldn’t shack up with anyone you knew and disliked because they would never let you in the front door, probably try to deliver you to the Mandalorian themselves.
So you end in the only place in which you knew you could get passage of the planet, the cantina. Thankfully it was busy tonight, so you could blend in well enough. You waited well late in the night, hiding close enough to see the entry and exit. No armor in sight. After your anxiety had built to a crescendo, you pushed yourself out of your hiding place and, on shaky legs, made your way to the front door. You entered with your hood pushed up over your head and your braid tucked into your cloak, trying to move as inconspicuously as possible. That was, until you heard your name shouted as loudly as possible.
You winced as your name echoed throughout the room and heads turned, yours slowly moving to face the voice that gave you away.
Ali. You love her to death, but she wasn’t the brightest one in the galaxy. She beamed at you from behind the bar, surrounded by patrons and their wandering eyes as usual. Ali was beautiful and she loved the attention, something you very much did not need right now.
You quickly made your way over to her at the bar, the serious look on your face made her cheerful expression drop at once.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she questioned, still in a too-loud voice.
“I’m fine, just hiding” you gritted out from behind clenched teeth.
Ali seemed to get with the program then, lowering her voice and body to match your crunched position over the counter.
“Someone’s collecting on your bounty?” she whispered intently, with a trace of concern for you in her voice that softened your previous anger at her.
You had told her about your bounty about a month after being in town, you trusted her, she was good. That is why you very much did not want her caught up in this mess.
“Yes”, you replied, “A Mandalorian”
You saw the same realization hit her as had hit you.
“You’re dead” she said with wide eyes.
Great.
“I know, I’m trying to get off-planet. Are there any ships passing through tonight?”
“Not that I’ve heard, I’m sorry”
She really was.
You gave her a tight smile and turned to leave when you heard your name for a second time that day.
This time, it came from a gruff, older voice, and it came from a man pointing right at you from across the cantina.
The man was standing next to a solid wall of armor, with a familiar visor pointed straight at you.
Shit.
He made for you before you could make for the door, crossing the floor in seconds and grabbing your cloak. The same trick worked twice apparently, as you reached up and released the clasp around your throat and pushed yourself to a sprint toward the door.
You were going to make it, you were so close, you-
The next thing you knew, a blinding pain erupted from the back of your head and the world tilted around you until your shoulders smashed into the rough floor.
He grabbed your braid.
That was low.
One hand still wrapped tight around your hair, his other hand was used to flip you onto your stomach and wrench your wrists behind your back. Cuffs were slapped on and hummed to life as his knees caged your back. You bucked, trying to get him off you, or at least make him move, but he was solid.
The lost chance of cutting your hair this morning flashed in your mind, you grimaced with regret.
You kept thrashing, and in return, he wound your braid around his hand and yanked, earning a yelp from you as your head and chest were lifted from their place smashed into the ground and his helmet lowered so it was level with your face.
“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold”
You stilled. It was the first time you heard his voice, and it sent a thrill through your spine. Maker, what was wrong with you.
The slight arousal was quickly tamped down and replaced with overwhelming fear as he wrenched you from your position on the ground and to your feet.
The entire cantina had gone quiet with your brawl, all eyes on you both. As he pulled you into a standing position, he cast a glance, or at least you thought he did, at the other patrons, who all quickly averted their eyes and continued their conversations in hushed whispers.
He began to pull you to the door and you made final, desperate eye contact with Ali who looked devastated. You gave her a small smile as a goodbye and the door to the cantina slammed shut behind the two of you.
...
33 notes · View notes
hi-5-sunflower · 3 years
Text
Chapter One
Tumblr media
Finally decided to take the plunge and post a full chapter! Here we go!
Word count: 2,200
Summary: Laura sneaks into an alchemy storehouse at night in hopes of finding a medicinal herb for her sick father.
Content notices: Mild violence, mention of illness, mild blood
Laura never thought she’d be the type to commit a crime.
And yet, here she was.
Against a clear night sky, the alchemy storehouse loomed like a great block of granite, its entrance attended by a solitary pacing guard. Laura watched from the shadows of the field beyond, concealed amid a patch of dusty desert weeds, her spine burning from the strain of prolonged crouching. Clutching the heavy stone was cramping her hand, but patience was key if she had any hope for success tonight.
The guard’s dull yellow Glow lantern, hanging from a hook on the building’s face, did its best to fend off the gloom of the moonless night. Intuitively, Laura knew the field she hid out in was little more than a black void, but the night-vision tonic she’d taken kept fooling her; she could make out the cracks in the dirt beneath her feet, could count the twigs on the skeletal stalks around her as though a full moon shone overhead.
She watched as the guard approached the nearest corner of the storehouse before turning on his heel to march back, and Laura’s grip tightened around the stone, its jagged edges biting into her palm.
Almost.
As he reached the far corner, she seized her moment, rising up and hurling the rock as hard as she could. It sailed through the air, arcing over the field to a spot near where the guard stood.
With a thump and a rustle, it made contact with brittle shrubbery, and sure enough, the guard’s attention snapped toward it.
Now!
Laura darted from her cover, acutely aware of her footfalls pattering on the dirt as she hurried forward, pinning her knapsack to her body to silence it, making for the side of the storehouse. Giddiness fueled her as she sped across open land, not daring to look in the guard’s direction, not slowing her pace until she was tucked snug against the dark northern wall.
From here she crept silently alongside the building, staying deep in shadow. There might be another guard stationed at the rear entrance, but with any shred of luck, the first one wouldn’t raise the alarm.
At the corner, she knelt low, peering around slowly. This side was also lit by a hanging lantern, but to her immense relief, no one was back here. At least, not at the moment.
Still, that meant the first guard was responsible for watching back here, too, or there were others nearby. A stable and another low building were positioned in such a way that if someone inside looked out, they could easily see her.
No time to lose.
Unlike the front entrance, which was a standard door, the rear entrance was big enough to give entry to animal-drawn supply carts, closed off by a pair of massive wooden gates. An iron chain wound tightly between the gates, held fast by a heavy padlock. Laura approached, nodding to herself, and fished a set of lockpicks from her bag.
All week, she’d gathered every lock she could get her hands on in preparation for this moment, working at them for hours until she could’ve picked them in her sleep. Never mind that this lock was twice as big as those. That was just another of many hurdles to overcome tonight.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her as she fumbled with the greasy contraption, trying not to jangle the chain. She’d spent the last six years of her life in the Silver Guard, a faithful servant of the law, busting petty criminals for...
Well, this.
And yet, here I am.
She couldn’t afford to feel too bad about that now, though. That could come later.
With a heavy click, the lock popped open, and Laura exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath. The chain threatened to slide out of place, but she caught hold of it before it could make too much noise. She deliberately extracted it just enough that she could sidle between the doors and into the storehouse.
It was tempting to congratulate herself for this small success, but the job wasn’t done yet. She drew the gates closed behind her and turned her attention to the abyss she now stood in.
A broad skylight interrupted the middle of the ceiling, a dim sprinkle of stars visible through the glass panes, but the rest of the room was a jungle of silhouettes. She dug into her knapsack again, feeling around for her portable Glow lamp, as her enhanced night vision could only do so much in an area as large and dark as this. She pulled the little lamp out and switched it on, finding herself in an absolute labyrinth of towering shelves.
Oh boy.
She took a breath, inhaling the strange scent of the place—herbaceous, with a hint of horse—and reviving her determination. Lyusk root was the prize she sought, the key to alleviating her father’s incessant, painful coughing. Of the countless herbalists and apothecaries she’d visited in the last month, not a single one had the root for sale anymore, reducing her options to two: leave her father to suffer, or raid the stores of some high-profile alchemy company.
By that point, it hadn’t been a difficult choice. Now if she could only figure out where they’d stashed that damn root.
Her cylindrical lamp was designed to concentrate its Glow, but the cavernous darkness easily swallowed its faint white beam. She started down an aisle, checking crate labels, but some of the chicken-scratch print was barely legible. Squinting, she made out the words hyssop seeds on one.
The crates on the shelf beside it were labeled iceberry leaf extract, so she placed her bet on alphabetical arrangement. That meant she wasn’t terribly far from the lyusk root, assuming this place had some.
If it didn’t...
She pushed the thought from her mind and scanned labels as she hurried alongside the shelves, hoping she wouldn’t have to climb up high. Her pulse picked up as she skimmed the L’s: lavender...lion blossom...lotus concentrate...
Magnolia bark...
No!
Maybe it was up high after all. She took a few steps back, raising her lamp over her head to try glimpsing the labels on the upper shelves, but it was no good.
Taking note of her position, she went in search of a ladder, but before she could get far, a rattle echoed through the storehouse.
Someone was opening the gate.
Laura’s heart stopped. She fumbled with the lamp, switching it off, then knelt against a shelf in the dark, hardly daring to breathe.
“Okay, good try,” drawled a voice, echoing hollowly throughout the room. “I know someone’s in here. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.”
She could see the guard silhouetted in the thin gap between the gates, and to her dismay, he was flanked by two others. They, too, carried Glow lamps, but theirs were much brighter than hers, emitting long beams that cut through the darkness.
They split up, their beams swinging this way and that. As one set of footsteps approached Laura’s hiding place, she chose her moment and bolted, treading lightly as she wound her way through the maze.
She took refuge against a stack of crates near the exit. One guard still stood between her and freedom.
“I’ll make you a deal,” the guard called out. “Quit wasting my time and I’ll consider letting you go without reporting you.” Laura briefly considered the offer, but it was probably a bluff. She remained silent, trying not to breathe too hard or to let her nerves gain authority as she waited for her chance to escape.
The first guard’s lamp beam continued to probe into the blackness around him as he stood firm by the gate. Come on. You won’t find me like that. Any second now, one of his friends would make their way around a corner and spot her. She was stuck here until he decided to budge.
After what felt like an hour, he finally did, grumbling to himself as he made his way between two rows of shelves.
She sprinted for the gate. In her haste to get outside, her knapsack caught on the dangling length of chain, which emitted a deafening clatter as it slid to the ground.
Crap!
The guard’s beam honed in on the entrance just as she ducked away.
“Hey!”
Laura ran for it. Her heart battered against her chest as she skidded around the corner, trying to fight down her rising panic. They were pushing through the gate now. If she could make it into town, she could probably lose them, but she had to get there first.
Adrenaline spurred her forward, her hearing muffled by the rush of air in her ears. They were falling behind, she was sure of it...
And then, without warning, she collided face first into a brick wall.
Except the wall had hands, which closed around her wrists like a vice, resisting her attempts to wrench free.
“Alright, pal,” said her captor. “Fun’s over.”
Damn it.
The other two guards caught up, shining their blinding lights into her face, illuminating her failure. She squinted at them as defiantly as she could manage, and they responded by seizing her knapsack and tying her hands behind her back with scratchy rope.
“Nothing stolen in here,” said one guard, digging around in the knapsack. “Not much of a thief, eh?”
“Get her out of here,” said another. “Let the Guardians deal with her.”
They dumped her unceremoniously onto a rickety supply cart, and with her hands bound, it was a rough landing. A flash of white erupted behind her eyes as her head clashed with coarse wood, and after that, there was blood in her mouth.
It tasted like defeat.
Someone fetched a mule from the nearby stable, and a moment later the cart lurched into motion. Laura mentally cursed herself throughout the sore, splintery ride, trying not to think about the slew of problems she’d just created for herself.
Once they got into town, she was handed over to the Silver Guard as promised. As the official peacekeepers of the Tri-Realm Republic, the Guard were, to most, a symbol of leadership, protection, and upstanding citizenship. Laura grew up admiring that black-and-silver uniform and was ecstatic the day she finally got to don it herself, but at the moment, it was the last thing she wanted to see.
It was only a matter of time now before word of this incident got to her commanding officer. Before her own uniform was taken away for good. She cursed herself again.
“Alchemy storehouse, huh?” said the Guardian, mild amusement in her tone as she untied Laura’s hands. “Must be some fun stuff in there.”
Laura dropped her gaze, examining the prickly desert burs caught in the laces of her boots. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Where’re you from?”
“Silverton.” Laura sighed. “Listen, my mother’s name is Eva Alvez, and I suppose you ought to send someone to inform her of this.” Her mother was not going to be pleased with her, but better someone else broke the news first.
“You’re Senator Alvez’s girl?” said the Guardian, scanning her. “Oh yeah, I see it. Looks like the spikefruit fell a few miles from the tree, huh?” She paused to chuckle at her own joke. “Let’s getcha back to Silverton, then.”
The Guardian took her to the Rift station, which was fortunately quiet this time of night. There were still just enough people around to stare uncomfortably, though, as Laura’s chaperone took her to the front of the line and received clearance to the gate labeled ZASSK–SILVERTON.
Rift gates were the fastest way to travel long distances, and the only way to travel between realms. Suspended within a metal archway, the gate was a translucent, rippling surface, like an upright pool of water. Peering into it, Laura could just make out the blurred figures of people milling about on the other side.
She stepped through, momentarily engulfed in the familiar staticky sensation. Her skin prickled fuzzily, and not a second later, she was in the Rift station in Silverton, the capital city of the Republic and her hometown.
The Guardian led Laura to the local Guard post, though her feet reluctantly carried her there on their own. To her chagrin, astonished faces greeted her as her comrades realized tonight’s offender was one of their own. Pointedly avoiding eye contact, she let herself be escorted into the holding room, not at all in the mood to explain.
The small room was furnished with a half-dozen chairs, a low table offering a few recent copies of Republic News Weekly, and an off-white Glow lamp fixed high on the wall. In all of her years working here, she’d never known how stiff these chairs were.
Time crawled in the silence, making her acutely aware of her pounding headache and the smarting scrape on her temple. Not to mention the constant self-reminders that, for all the trouble she’d gone to tonight, she’d come away empty handed after all.
I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll get that lyusk root for you somehow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Here's the full intro for the book if you're interest in learning more about it!
Tagging @thelaughingstag 🦌🙂
18 notes · View notes
rare-yanderes · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
So I just realized that if there’s yandere versions of the DuckTales characters, it’s usually not from the 1987 version so here ya go. Kinda wrote this in a rush since I have work and work and work and work and you get the idea.
TW for mentions of murder, kidnapping, endangerment, manipulation, stalking and abuse.
Posts will be much less frequent and more sporadic, my apologies. I’m just kinda losing it with juggling college and a minimum wage job.
•I see Glomgold as a possessive, obsessive and manipulative yandere.
•Now Glomgold isn’t exactly an intimidating by looks kind of person so depending on how you first meet, I imagine you’d be certainly caught off guard. He’s so self absorbed he couldn’t possibly connect with someone else beyond seeing them as a tool to use to gain the advantage over Scrooge.
•Do not mistake his age for weakness. He may not be at peak physical strength but he’s still getting a workout by adventuring and engaging in dangerous fights, so he’s not weak by any means. His ruthlessness disallows him from giving up that easily in a battle.
•If you work for McDuck industries you bet your ass that this whole scenario will at first play out as a rivalry. Glomgold’s hatred for Scrooge goes to bizarre, petty lengths. As far as you’re concerned, you are just another attempt to piss Scrooge off and so Glomgold’s original intent of doing so by kidnapping you seems relatively normal and you don’t fear trying to escape the goons he sends to catch you. Eventually, however, Glomgold’s actions will portray otherwise and even his lies won’t spare you from the truth; he’s gobsmacked with you.
•Jealous, jealous, jealous. If jealously physically manifested itself as a person, Glomgold would be the result. Seriously, he cannot stand when your attention isn’t solely on him and his accomplishments. Often times, especially in the early stages of his obsession, he’ll devise plans to monopolize and direct your attention towards him. Any of your focus on anything else is a crime, even if it’s something as dumb as a butterfly floating around. If you’re in a conversation with someone else, he’ll pull you away with an excuse. If you’re doing your own thing, he’ll bud in and loom over your shoulder the entire time.
•If there’s someone else participating, he’ll whisper threats and blackmail into their ear or althogether sabatoge your experience with them so you never hang around them again.
•It’s a big mistake to ignore him in any form, even for a few seconds. His resulting wrath is not a pretty sight, especially in public. Talking to Scrooge especially pisses him off to a murderous edge. He’ll do anything to get you away from Scrooge, who he sees as trying to take you away from him. The idea that you’re focus is anywhere else but on him is incredibly frustrating to him and is a bit of a damage to his ego.
•Pathological liar. In an attempt to keep your attention and praise solely focused towards him, Glomgold will absolutely lie and spin fables on some of his achievements. He’ll say he’s #1, he’ll talk about how he’s saved people before. He’ll put on a charitable front, blabing about his recent donation to homeless shelters. (This of course, is probably false.) He’ll blackmail, extort, and cheat his way to you if he has to without remorse.
•He’s not just lying to you about himself, he’s lying to you about other people in an attempt to isolate you from them. To Glomgold, everyone else’s attempts at befriending you are an invocation of rivalry that he must prove he can triumph in. Any friends you had are now Glomgold and his approved inner circle which he still gets jealous of if you’re with them for too long. He seems himself as a perfectly fine replacement for all friends and family you have, a result of his ego.
•Speaking of ego, despite lying to you about being better at everything than everyone else, (especially Scrooge,) he can’t help but sometimes believe his own lies if you go along with them too. If you want to get on his good side, you’d better start playing along and flattering him to all hell. If he’s angry and about to murder someone, your reassurance may just save their life. Calming him down by complimenting him usually works and detours him long enough for the offender to escape with their life.
•Unfortunately, using this tactic has the opposite effect in any escape effort you may have planned. The more attention you give Glomgold, the greedier and more needy of it he gets until he’s so attached to you you won’t be able to remember a time he isn’t around you.
•Likes trashing Scrooge McDuck in any way possible. Any idolization of him from you is a huge nope. If he’s not doting on you, vying for your attention, he’s plotting on how to kill, steal, or make Scrooge McDuck miserable. The most comical thing about this is that he also wants you to share in his collective hatred of Scrooge McDuck, so get ready to hear about it all the time. Disagree and you’ll have an entire essay of why Scrooge sucks handed to you.
•Still really offstandish about spending his fortune so instead of buying you expensive gifts and items, he’ll steal them by hiring others to do his dirty work then play it off as just a simple act of kindness. This has double points, it lowers your guard around him and it also means he doesn’t have to be any less poor.
•Directly confronting Glomgold about his behavior is a bad idea. Any hit to the ego causes him to freak out and try to mend it in dangerous ways by either proving he’s better or eliminating the threat altogether. Any idea that you’re about to leave and focus your energy elsewhere will cause him to go from rationally plotting rivals downfalls financially to irrationally murdering them out of anger. Then, he’ll cling onto you even more so you don’t leave his sight.
•As his obsession grows, so does his possessiveness. Eventually, there may come a time where he sees you as more of a diamond to polish than a person with a separate existence, especially when he’s parading you around Scrooge. You’re his greatest treasure and he’s not about to give you up. He’ll brag about how he’s got the upper hand over Scrooge, how he’s got the one thing that’s more valuable than anything else.
•On the idea of parading you around, Glomgold loves showing off how wealthy he is to everyone else. You’ll be in public, dragged wherever he wants you to go, participating in whatever activities he wants you to participate in. At least, unlike other victims of yanderes, you will have the rare privilege to go outside. Unfortunately and obviously, it’s only if Glomgold is no more than three feet from you at all times.
•Escape results in angry threats of murder to people you care about, especially any friends or family. Glomgold is already a psychopath, so there won’t be any forwarning. There won’t be any downfall or an attempt to stop himself. As soon as he’s attached, he’ll do anything to achieve his goal. He has no qualms about murder. It’s rare that he’ll ever be the one to directly cause it though, preferring to hire assassins and other people while he watches from afar.
•He’ll deny it every time the idea is brought to the table, but man is he lonely. He doesn’t have close family like Scrooge and people who care about him beyond the business deals he makes. So much of his need for attention comes from that depressing fact. Few enjoy his company or hangs around purely because they like him. Maybe you ended up being dopesh enough to spare him some kindness and he just attracted to it obsessively. Don’t let him use it against you, though. He’ll guilt trip you however he needs to have you falling into his hands.
• A yandere (DT2017) Scrooge sees you as someone fragile and in need of a loving guardian to protect you. Scrooge would honestly lock you away and swallow the key and say it’s for your protection. Very lovey dovey despite having a rough exterior. Honestly, I think that 1987 Scrooge would be much like the DT 2017 version only much more possessive than just overprotective, and a little less affectionate.
• A yandere (1987) Glomgold on the other hand sees you as the prized treasure he needs to show off to everyone he runs in to. Someone who needs to have their attention on him at all times. This may, depending on the circumstances, make it a little easier to escape if you can somehow get his attention off of you for one single second. (Usually by pointing out where Scrooge is if there’s an event involving him)
•The same goes with the 2017 version, though I think with that version of Glomgold, you may have a better chance at using his emotions against him. The 2017 Glomgold is more childish and a little less logical so you’d have an easier chance. Plus, he’s short as fuck lol.
36 notes · View notes
Text
You Belong With Me - Chapter 34
AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost  
Description:   Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  
Word Count: 6972
Chapter Warnings contain major spoilers so they’re at the end of the post, but please scroll down to check them if you need to! This chapter gets a bit heavy <3
-
    Logan inhaled slowly as he cast one last glance down the empty corridor behind him. He could feel Dee's impatience growing behind him as he took another step towards the fae's cell. Still, he felt himself pause, subconsciously doubting his choices as he turned to to face the wall outside Dee's cell. A dim, amber light fell from the small sconce burning on the wall to his left. He quickly reached up to the thin torch, wrapping his fingers around the wooden base. With a light shove, he dislodged the lit torch from its holder and turned to step through into the grey light of Dee's cell.
    He slowed, holding the torch out in front of him as he ducked through the doorway. He turned his body, edging carefully along the back wall, scanning the cell in front of him to catch sight of Dee's shadowy figure. The hairs on the back of his neck started to raise as continued to search the dim cell for the hostile fae. He barely kept the fear that his enemy had escaped at bay with the knowledge he’d heard the man's voice only a moment before. Logan could feel his energy. He had to be here.
    Finally, his heart jumped in his chest he caught the subtle glimmer of his torchlight reflecting in Dee's eyes at the back of the cell. Logan straightened upright with a questioning glance. Dee’s restraints appeared to be pulled taut and Logan could only guess the fae was as far back into the cell as the chains would allow. Logan continued to hold the torch out in front of him, crouching defensively as he quickly glanced up and down at the thin silhouette standing in the dark abyss of the back of the room.
     “Well, well,” Dee's dry laugh sent chills down Logan’s neck. “I almost didn’t think you had enough of a spine to ditch the prince's lap dog—”
    “Don't.” Logan gritted his teeth as he cut off Dee's attempt to get under his skin. He kept he gaze trained carefully on the billowing figure as he reached upward to place the torch in his hand into the empty sconce across from Dee's cell. The thin torch barely illuminated a small radius in front of him, barely keeping the shadows close to him at bay. “I'm not here to talk about Virgil. Refrain from insulting my friend or I’ll—”
    “Or you'll what?” Dee's wry grin stood out starkly against the shadows around him as glared threateningly at Logan. “Leave? If you had a shred of common sense, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Dee scoffed as Logan's expression soured. “Unfortunately for you, you’re the one here who wants something. So, I think you'll find I can speak about your friends anyway I damn please.”
    Logan stood against the far wall, rigid with irritation at the truth of Dee’s statement. He clenched his jaw as his eyes shot daggers across the room at the faint silhouette of Dee leaning against the wall at the back of the cell in front of him.
    “That’s what I thought. You’re as weak as I expected.” Dee sneered. A slight hiss escaped his lips as he struggled to contain the disdain in his voice. “I may be the prisoner, but you’ll never hold power with me. You’re merely a pawn in the bigger game I'm playing.”
    Logan paused, blinking in surprise. His careful, guarded expression faltered briefly as the air wavered with an emotion he didn’t recognize. He parted his lips slightly, subtly tasting the unfamiliar feeling in the air. He stared into the dark blankly for a moment, trying to parse out some meaning to Dee's quickly shifting emotions before bitterly swallowing back the urge to comment  and moving on.
    “Well, clearly you wanted me here, Dee. The pawn moved where you expected, and now it's your move.” Logan pulled his shoulders back, not allowing his emotions to breach his carefully neutral expression. “So, are you actually able to tell me what happened to my parents or was this merely a ruse to get me alone?”
    The silence hanging in air between them would have been deafening if Logan's heart wasn't pounding in his chest as he waited for Dee’s answer. He stared rebelliously into the subtle reflection of light in Dee’s unblinking eyes for what felt like an eternity, willing himself not to show that even without access to his power, Dee’s cold gaze sent a chill down his arms. Eventually, he couldn’t help but take a step back. His arm brushed the surface of the wall behind him and he jumped, almost missing the words that left Dee’s lips in that moment.
    “You really don’t know anything. Do you?”
     Logan paused, slowly glancing up in the cell as he processed Dee’s words. “What?”
    “You don’t have parents.” Dee stated dryly. “You had Tara. “
    The light Dee’s eyes flickered as he blinked and Logan tensed as he waited for Dee’s to continue.
    “Actually, come to think of it. Tara wouldn’t have been able to resist my invitation either." Dee mused quietly. "It was easy to tempt her with knowledge. I would have pitied the fool who dared stand in her way of what she wanted to know.”
   Logan’s breath caught in his throat as the name seemed to resonate with familiarity in his mind. “T-Tara?”
    “That was your—” Dee snarled with disgust. “—your mother's name. Her full name was Taranis of the Southern Sky, but she went by Tara.”
    “Taranis of the Southern Sky?” Logan spoke slowly tasting unfamiliar words as his mind race. He almost found himself stepping forward in curiosity, but immediately halted, remembering whom he was speaking. With a twitch of a frown, he glared across the line of the cell bars. “Like the planet?”
     Dee’s scoffed at Logan’s timid question, and amusement radiated out of the cell. “Yes. Though in the interest of being entirely accurate, the planet was named after her, not the other way around.”
    Logan narrowed his eyes into the dark, taken aback by the sudden lack of malice in Dee’s voice. “What do you mean?”
    “Humans are nothing but parasites on this land.” Dee drew out his words thoughtfully. “They’re disgustingly cruel, but even I will admit their tendency to connect two completely separate ideas by a mere thread is endlessly amusing.”
    Logan stood motionless, listening to Dee as he reflected nostalgically. He held his breath not wanting to draw Dee out of his seemingly peaceful state by reminding him of who he was speaking to.
    “The planet you’re referring to glows a brilliantly bright blue, just like Tara's lightning.” Dee mused quietly.  “That's all the connection humans needed to connect her power to the celestial body in the southern sky. She even added it to her own name in appreciation of the connection.”
     Logan stared into the darkness, nearly paralyzed in disbelief at what could only be sadness in Dee’s voice. “I-I thought—” Logan paused, staring nervously as Dee's eyes turned up to him. “—I ‘ve read extensively about the mythology associated with Taranis. Everything I’ve read implied that it had been named after a god of thunder.”
     Dee was silent for long time and Logan couldn’t help but jump when he finally let out a deep sigh. “One of humans’ less endearing tendencies is their absolute inability to recognize the value of all of their own members. Some of them may even be tolerable if their leadership wasn’t worthless.”
    Logan was quiet as Dee’s eyes flickered dangerously in the dark.
    “She was a goddess in her own right, though thunder was far from her only claim to power. Humans have oh-so-kindly altered her myth to fit their own narrow view because they’re threatened by someone perceived as feminine having power.” Dee muttered bitterly. “Such petty cowards.”
    “Was?” Logan struggled to keep his voice steady as he stared into the shadows at Dee. Dee started to move, pacing the back of the cell, but Logan forced himself to continue to speak. “You keep using the past tense to refer to her.”
    “Well, I’m shocked.” Dee hummed condescendingly. “Maybe you’re not as much of an idiot as you look.”
    Logan subconsciously took a step back into the wall at the venom that dripped from Dee's words, jumping as his back struck the wall behind him. He gulped, feeling the air shift back to the familiar aura of Dee’s hostility.
    “You heard me correctly, Logan,” Dee’s eyes flickered in the torchlight as he snarled at Logan. “because that traitorous leech condemned her entire race to suffer and then left her only kin to pay her debt.”
    Logan’s heart dropped as Dee stepped forward. His eyes glowed gold as he stared threateningly at Logan as he stuttered out a response. “W-what?”
    “I don't have time to repeat myself, so get this through that thick skull of yours. She bolted. Well over a century ago, she took whatever reward the human king offered her, and fled the country, leaving you to the mercy of the human king. It's really no wonder you grew up to be the prince’s loyal pet.” Dee growled. Logan felt chills creep his neck as Dee’s anger turned to a smug satisfaction. “Not all is lost though. Fortunately for the Fair Folk, in her absence, the debt she owes passes to her next of kin and at the very least, she left us that.”
    “D-debt?” Logan trembled. Even standing in the heat of the flames of the sconce above him, he felt his blood run cold.
    “Surely, your dear prince told you what your mother did,” Dee replied in a disinterested tone. “though clearly he didn’t see fit enough to tell you who you were. I don't imagine you’d be here if he'd simply had the guts to tell you the truth.”
    “What are you—” Logan muttered defensive, feeling his hands start to shake.
    “Tara’s lightning is unmistakable.  There's no way our dear prince didn't know exactly who he was speaking to.” Dee continued unempathetically, barely deigning to look at Logan as he started to crumble.
    Blue lightning.
    Dee's words trailed off as a loud ringing filled Logan’s ears. He slumped clumsily back into the wall behind him. Roman had reacted to his power and the air had flooded with regret.
     He knew.
      Roman knew.
     Logan swallowed, almost choking on the lump in his throat as he slid down the wall. His muscles strained painfully as he became rigid, forcing down a vocal reaction to Dee's words. He squeezed out a few weak words, desperately needing confirmation of his thoughts.
    “She was the Elder Fae.”
    “Finally,” Dee growled impatiently. “Maybe there is a brain cell rattling around in that empty head of yours.”
    “How—” Logan nearly retched as his stomach twisted and he curled closer to the ground. “That was a century ago. How is that—"
     “Stop babbling.” Dee snapped. “Fae live for centuries. We simply age how we choose.”
    "But that can't—" Logan choked on his words as he clenched his hands into fists. “I don't remember anything. I grew up normal—”
    “Please,” Dee sneered. “I definitely don’t have anything better to do than refresh your memory.”
    Logan shivered, barely functioning as he curled his knees to his chest. One thought seemed to keep resurfacing in his mind as grief racked his body.
     Roman knew.
     “Fine. You worthless—” Dee growled derisively, cutting himself off. His eyes narrowed on Logan as he hissed out his words. “She left you in the hands of her master, the human king. We only assumed she took you with her when she fled the country, but it seems she lost no more love leaving you than the rest of us. You were held by the royal family for two generations before we even realized they still had you."
      Logan tilted his head up slowly. Dee’s silhouette stood out slightly against the wisp of moonlight from the narrow window behind him.
    “We knew only Tara's magic could end the curse, so once we realized there was a solution to the Fair Folk's suffering, we set out to take you back. Unfortunately, our mission was ill-fated from the start and before we ever reached you, you disappeared. I personally mesmerized and interrogated every knight and guard in the castle. I even got my hands on that foolish king, but you were gone without a trace.” Dee paused, tone dropping as he grew deadly serious. “So, congratulations. You got two more decades of freedom out of disappearing, but it's time to pay up.”
   “It's all my fault—” Logan dropped his gaze to the ground bitterly, feeling numb to the tremble in his limbs. “An entire generation gone—for me.”
    Dee was silent for a solid minute as he stared at Logan curled against the wall. His gaze drifted up to the torch above Logan, pondering curiously. “I must admit I didn't expect you to take the blame so easily.”
    Logan sucked in a breath as his stomach clenched. “They killed her.”
    Dee blinked in shock. “What?"
    “She died—” Logan dug his nails into his arms at the realization. “She died protecting me.”
    “No—That’s not possible.” Dee whispered and Logan looked up, barely catching sight of the fae's eyes before they disappeared into the dark.
    “The spell—or curse—” Logan whispered quietly. “Whatever term you prefer to use for the enchantment they forced her to cast.” Logan swallowed, casting his eyes to the ground. “R-Roman said that was the last request the king asked of her and it was too much for her to handle.”
    “That’s a lie.” Dee hissed threateningly. “Tara was nothing short of a god. She knew her limit. She would have backed out, if she thought it would kill her. They couldn’t force her hand—”
    “They had me.” Logan whispered quietly, running his fingers through his hair. “They took me from her and threatened to—Gods, it's my fault.”
    Dee sucked in a sharp breath and was quiet as Logan's breath became rapid. When he finally spoke, his voice strained as he attempted to hold back his seething anger. “I don't mean to rain on your pathetic pity party, but no. If that spell killed her, it was because the king drained her dry of all her energy. I told her—I told her it was too much, and she cut me out. I tried to tell her but I never thought she'd take it that far.”
    “She didn’t have a choice. The king left her with no other viable alternatives that would also keep me safe.” Logan felt his stomach unclench slightly at the soft regret in Dee’s voice. He put his hand down, pushing himself up of the ground curiously. “You knew her?”
     “I considered her a friend,” Dee scoffed in disbelief. “though she was clearly a wonderful friend, running off to be some human’s lapdog and cutting off contact with the only people that could have helped her."
    “The choice clearly wasn’t in her control.” Logan muttered defensively.
     “Right, because choosing between her entire race and the allies she'd kept for centuries and you—” Dee sneered condescendingly. “would be a difficult decision.”
    Skin prickling with anger, Logan's gaze narrowed into a glare. “Perhaps she made the right choice cutting you out, if this is how you treat your late friend’s only son.”
      “You hold your tongue or I'll tear it out.” Dee snapped with a guttural growl as he took a step forward.  “You may be her creation, but you’re not her son.”
      Logan growled. “You’re the one who called her my mother—”
      “I needed your attention, you pesky nitwit.” Dee’s voice dripped venom as he glared at Logan down the dark. “You are not worthy of her name. She was a goddess who was able to pluck the rain from the sky and the dirt from the land and she bind them together to make you. You are no more her son than the wind and the rain.” Dee's teeth almost illuminated in the dark as he bared his teeth at Logan. “You're simply a ragdoll she breathed a wisp of life into. Nothing more.”
     “Clearly, she didn’t feel the same.” Logan growled, unable to hide how deeply Dee’s words cut.
    “She was a fool.” Dee's sharp disdain cut through the air as his eyes flickered gold in the dark. “Even if she considered you her child, do you even know how many children have disappeared from their parents over the last century? Do you know how many were orphaned because their parents weren’t strong enough to fight off the humans who were hunting the Fair Folk?”
    Logan swallowed painfully, breath catching in his throat. “I know—"
    “No, you don't.” Dee hissed venomously. “Don’t pretend you have even a shred of understanding of how many lives were sacrificed to spare yours. Fae disappear and are smuggled over the border to be used for whatever power they have left. They drained of their will to live. They—”
    “She didn’t know.” Logan whispered quietly, guilt rising in his throat as empathy welled in his chest. “R-Roman said even the king couldn’t have predicted the destruction—"
    “What a comfort for the families whose lives were destroyed by their negligence.” Dee spat. His voice gradually raised in volume as emotion crackled in the air around him. “Who could have possibly predicted that humans would take advantage of the weakened fae?”
     Logan looked up suddenly as a gasp escaped Dee’s lips. The sound of metal clanging filled the air as Logan tipped his head up to see Dee’s dark silhouette bent over staring at his wrist.
    “Dee?”
    Dee's eyes shot up to him with a feral growl as Logan suddenly scrambled back to the wall behind him. Dee hissed as Logan rushed to dislodge the torch from the wall and crouched back into the dark as Logan spun back around to rush the metal bars.
      “Dee, you’re hurt.” Logan whispered breathlessly. He bit his lip, stomach twisting in empathy as the torchlight revealed streaks of red on Dee’s wrists.
      “Keep my name out of your mouth.” Dee snapped. “I don’t want your pity.”
    “You need treatment—” Logan muttered, ignoring Dee's hostile remarks. “I'll get Roman—”
     “If you bring that prince anywhere near me, I'll tear out his pretty throat with my bare teeth—”
     “Virgil, then.” Logan pleaded, suddenly growing frantic as blood dripped from his wrist."
     “No.” The wounded fae snarled, baring his teeth at Logan as he paced the bars.
     “I can't open the door without assistance—”
     “Then, don't.” Dee snapped with a menacing step forward. “I didn’t ask you for help.”
    “I don't accept that.” Logan's mind raced as stared at figure of Dee crouched over in the dim light of the back of the cell. His eyes widened as he noticed dark pools at the fae's feet. “I'll be back in a moment.”
    “Where do you think you’re going, Logan?” Dee stepped forward, metal clanging as he rushed the bars. "We're not finished here."
      Logan bit his lip, feeling a wave of guilt as he took in the full extent of Dee's injuries. A mixture of dried blood mixed with fresh as it streaked down his arms. He softened his expression. “There is a medical kit near the guard's quarters that I was able to raid for supplies for the antidote for Roman's poison. It was well stocked.”
    Dee gritted his teeth silently, unable to stop Logan as he turned to place the torch back in it's holder.
    “I'll only be a minute.” Logan whispered  apologetically, briefly glancing back at Dee's deathly glare he ducked through the archway.
    Getting to the medical kit proved to be as little of a challenge as it had been the first time he'd raided their stash of supplies for ingredients. Fortunately, they seemed to have restocked from his last encounter and even added to their extensive supply. His face twisted in disgust. Realistically, he knew he should be grateful he hadn’t needed to go far for supplies, but the sight of the growing collection sent bile rising in his throat.
     Logan knew all too well the supplies were kept stock for when Remus pushed too far on his victims. There's no mistake that this was here to keep the prisoners comfortable. There had been many instances where he'd been left to bleed in the dirt without concern for him to believe that, but the few times he'd been truly afraid he may not survive the night, Remus had allowed one of the guards to haphazardly treat his wounds. The unforgettable experience of his wounds being treated so roughly sent shudders down his body, but he'd survived, perhaps thanks to the clumsy treatment he'd been granted. Still—He clenched his jaw, refocusing his energy away from the uncomfortable memory.
     Subtle, colors filled the air as he quietly dug through the various pouches of herbs and oils, trying to guess what he might actually need. He’d only gotten a cursory glance at Dee’s injuries and hadn’t dared ask the already seething fae for a closer inspection.
    What am I doing?
    I mean, he knew he couldn’t just leave Dee to bleed out. He didn't have that cruelty in his heart, but nothing was stopping him from grabbing Roman or Virgil at this point. He'd walked away unscathed, and he knew they'd certainly help him if he asked, but he couldn't bring himself to break the small amount of trust Dee had placed in him letting him walk away.
    Not that he'd had a lot of options.
  Logan clenched his jaw and quickly hooked the waterskin he'd swiped from the guard's supplies on to his belt loop and shoved the rest of the bandages and a collection of salves and oils into his bag. He groaned and pushed himself back up toward the door, quickening his pace. Subtly, he gave a brief pause at the door, listening quietly at the door. He paused before pushing himself through the crack and making his way back to Dee's cell. Logan edged along the shadows near the walls as he deftly avoided the unobservant guards patrolling hallway of cells. His anxiety started build, creeping across his skin as he approached the figurative lion's den once more.
     Logan slowed as he tiptoed into the hallway with Dee’s cell. He could see a subtle cloud of colors drifting out of his bag carried by the wind back the way he'd came. He could taste the herbs on the air as he stopped quietly in the hall outside the door, listening intently.
    He heard a subtle whisper as he crept across the threshold toward Dee. Listening intently, he peered around the corner as the whispers stopped. Logan looked into the dark corners of the cell as he turned the corner, immediately spotting Dee’s eyes glowing their usual bright gold.
     Logan stared curiously at Dee, who seemed to be too distracted to notice Logan re-entering the room. He carefully traced Dee's line of sight to the far corner of the room as he let out a distinct hiss while he appeared to stare at nothing. Logan froze in place, miscalculating a step as Dee's cold stare turned to him.
    “Oh, good.” Dee snipped. The glow of his eyes flickered with exhaustion as he watched Logan slowly unfreeze and move quietly to the cell door. “My daring hero has returned from his harrowing journey that was absolutely not pointless—”
    “Shut up.” Logan muttered in an exhausted tone as he grabbed the torch out of it's holder and turned to scan the walls of the cell. “You need treatment.”
    “You can't get to me.” Dee spat coldly. "Therefore, this venture was pointless."
    “I can, actually.” Logan stated dryly.
    Dee paused, staring at him suspiciously. “How?”
    “You'll see soon enough.” Logan’s chest tightened nervously as he turned to face the wall behind him. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the lockpicking set Virgil had given him. He hesitated, fidgeting with the tools in his hand as he cautiously kept the picks out of Dee’s sight. Picking the lock to the cell door would certainly easy enough. Virgil had implied that the locks in the dungeons were of amateur design, but doing so was as good as showing his hand to a man who seemed determined to prove himself Logan’s enemy, and Logan certainly couldn't see how that was a wise course of action.
    Logan sighed, defeated. He couldn’t knowingly walk away while Dee was in his current condition, not even to fetch Roman. So, he steeled his stare and turned to move to the cell door fiddling with his picks.
    “What are you doing?” Dee hissed the demand, staring at him..
    “I think it is very apparent what I attempting to do.”  Logan growled back. “Unfortunately, if you have questions, they will have to wait as I need to focus.”
    Dee seemed to bite back a sour retort as Logan slid the first pick into the narrow lock. He glared silently at Logan, but allowed him to work in peace as he got a feel for the pins. Logan glanced up at Dee’s unblinking stare as he manipulated the last pin into place. He knew he could simply pop the lock open, but he let the pin fall out of place, but Dee’s injuries didn't appear to be an immediate threat to his life. To be perfectly fair, if he was being forced to show his hand on his new skill, he still didn't have to reveal to Dee that he was good at it. A few minutes passed as Logan played up his lack of skill, smiling subtly as Dee grew frustrated.
    “Why don’t you give up? You obviously don’t—"
    A single pop from the metal of the cell  door stopped Dee’s statement in it's tracks. Logan couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face as Dee watched him slowly push open the cell door.
    “Stay away from me.”
    “I think we've established that's not going to happen.” Logan chided softly as he stepped forward. He kneeled down in front of the fae and held out his hand  to Dee expectantly. “Give me your wrist.”
    The scales on his face glowed a dull yellow as Dee hissed threateningly at Logan as he kneeled beside him, but much to his surprise Logan simply hissed back at him. Anger burned in Dee's eyes at the response. “Don’t treat me like a feral animal.”
    “Don’t act like a feral animal.” Logan grunted as he gestured sternly for Dee to extend his wrist. He felt a small surge of empathy as he met Dee’s gaze. His scales dull glimmer gave away the exhaustion he was so clearly trying to hide.
     Dee's heated glare would have withered his willpower away in any other circumstances, but right now, he had a job to do. His focus narrowed as Dee reluctantly held out his wrist. The wounds were not immediately apparent under the layers of dried blood, so Logan reached into his bag, pulling out a cloth to wet with his waterskin.
     “Tell me if this hurts.” Logan muttered, not looking up. "I can be more gentle, if I need to."
     “Like you’d care.” Dee hissed back, flinching at the feeling of the cold water as the cloth brushed his skin.
    “I do care.”
    Dee paused, staring at Logan uncertainly. “Why?”
    “I simply don’t glean pleasure from seeing others in pain,” Logan whispered as he gently began to work away the layers of blood.
    Dee scoffed quietly. “Well, I certainly have not extended you the same courtesy, so surely some part of you enjoys the reversal of power.”
    “I want to help you, Dee. Any power you claim I have over you exists purely in your own perspective.” Logan stated without glancing up. He examined Dee’s wrist closely, knowing he couldn’t proceed with the cuff around Dee’s forearm in the way. He tilted his head up to Dee’s golden eyes. “I’m going to take your bind off, but I expect for it to go back after I've finished.”
    “Starting to give commands already,” Dee muttered. “How noble our sweet ragdoll is.”
    “I don't enjoy seeing you bound either, but I'm no fool.” Logan pulled out his tools and started to slide the pick into the lock, allowing his focus to drift from Dee’s intense stare. “You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear and I'm not interested in being a willing target of your rage.”
    Dee was quiet as the first cuff popped open and Logan froze as it revealed several deep gashes underneath the cuff. Large, red welts raised on his arm around the cuff, an indicator of the powerful fae’s reaction to the metal. The welts and irritation were to be expected but Logan couldn’t deny the cuts looked more purposeful.
    “The guards haven’t noticed your injuries?” Logan whispered, gently rolling Dee’s wrist to get a better look.
    “You know firsthand they simply don’t care, especially since I’m not human to begin with.” Dee growled avoiding his gaze.
    “But they should have reported it so that Roman could have done some—”
    “Your idiot prince has no idea about my injuries. I can assure you of that.” Dee replied bitterly.
    Logan swallowed, not wanting to admit the relief that washed over him at the thought that Roman had not been the one to be negligent of the fae's injuries. He bit his lip as he dropped his gaze. “Still, surely the guard would’ve approached Remus, given your relationship.”
    “Bold of you to assume that Remus was not the source of my injuries.” Dee whispered tiredly.
    Logan paused, looking up at him in horror. “I thought—"
    “You thought wrong.” Dee cut him off, and Logan looked up to see him staring distantly over Logan’s shoulder. “I told you there was no affection between us.”
    “Still,” Logan whispered. “I didn’t imagine he would hurt you.”
    “It's my own fault really. I should have predicted he would become destructive if left to his own devices. He can't resist the temptation of  hurting someone powerful when they're helpless in front of him.” Dee whispered quietly, still staring absently over Logan’s shoulder. “I’ve been his keeper long enough to know it's the way he was created.”
    “His keeper?” Logan asked, his voice carefully neutral as he listened curiously.
    Dee seemed to tense with the realization of what he'd said, but Logan remained patient. He kept working at Dee's injuries gently applying the soothing salve to his irritated injuries. The methodic movements seemed to lull Dee into speaking the words he seemed to desperately want to say.
    “You may be the key to undoing the curse that Tara placed on us, but that doesn’t mean that the Seelie and Unseelie courts simply rolled over and gave up when you disappeared.” Dee started tiredly. His voice hung heavy in his throat as he watched Logan begin to wrap his arm. “There was a plot. When Roman and Remus were born, the courts were reeling with grief from the loss of our chance at redemption. You were gone, and with your disappearance, the courts lost all hope of lifting the enchantment. It was a dark time for our people, and in their grief, for the first time in nearly three centuries, they made the choice to create a changeling."
    Logan paused as pinned off the end of Dee's bandages and moved to the next arm. He hung his head as he listened, pulling his lockpicks out of his pocket as he started on the second cuff
    “They wanted to fell the humans from the inside out, create a kink in their rule that would destabilize their monarchy and maybe give us a chance to survive their systematic destruction. Unfortunately, as had been the case so many times, the universe seemed determined to foil our attempt at salvation.” Dee watched absently as the second cuff fell off his wrist, barely reacting as Logan set to work on clearing the blood off of the deep cuts. “Despite popular belief, changelings can't be created on a whim. They take seven years to grow and nurture for the right traits before they can be switched. Continuing our stellar streak of luck, on the night of their birth, a lock of hair was taken from the kings' son and the process of creation had begun. No one realized until later that twins had been born and we had created a changeling of the wrong child.”
  Logan gently lifted his head as he worked the blood on Dee’s wrist, glad to see a slight glimmer to Dee's scales. “Why not simply correct the mistake and start over?”
    “The lock of hair must been taken before  the moon sets on the night of their birth.” Dee voice hung heavy in the air as he leaned against the wall. “We didn’t learn about the twins until weeks later. So, we had a choice. Work with what we had created or wait another generation to try again.”
    “So, why you?” Logan asked quietly as he returned his gaze to the salve he was spreading on Dee's wrists. "How did Remus end up in your hands?"
    “I have acted as the Seelie court’s ambassador to Unseelie court for well over a century.” Dee whispered sadly. “Actually, Tara had acted the Unseelie ambassador until she disappeared.”
    “She was a dark fae?” Logan whispered.
    “Dark and light have different meaning to the Fair Folk.” Dee growled in discontent. “Neither is good nor evil. They simply exist to balance the other.”
    Logan looked up at the serious expression on Dee's face and nodded slowly, still processing the new information.  He reached to his bag, pulling out a new strip of bandages.
    “Remus was created to spread misery. He was meant to fell a kingdom, but we knew he'd need guidance. Tara’s replacement had led the mission to collect you, so the representative of the Seelie court became responsible for Remus.” Dee sighed. “I became responsible for him. Still, nothing we seemed to do was enough, and once Roman acquired his pet—” Dee stalled as Logan glared at him. “Once he acquired Virgil, he was untouchable. He overrode every bad decision Remus threw at him. We thought the game was over when Remus' bored attempt to murder the prince somehow turned up you.”
    Logan pinned the end of the bandage in place and glared up at Dee defensively.
    “Your eyes glowed while he was having his fun with you in the dungeons. That's how he knew. Honestly, you probably could have fried the little bastard if it weren’t for the shackles so conveniently placed on your wrists.” Dee snipped as he pulled his wrist back from Logan. "Fortunately, you weren't so lucky."
     “You seem as determined as ever to hate me.” Logan whispered quietly, shoving his supplies into his bag. He glanced down at the shackles on the ground, but made no attempt to force Dee to replace them.
    “I can't afford to believe that any piece of her lives in you. If I did, I may not have the willpower to finish what I started.” Dee replied coldly. “You have a debt to pay and if you won’t own up to it—”
   “I will.”
   “What?”
    “Whatever it takes, no more lives will be sacrificed in my name.” Logan whispered, looking up at Dee’s subtly shimmering scales. “Show me what I need to do.”
    Dee scanned his face, taken aback by Logan’s words. He watched curiously before testing Logan’s truthfulness. “Fine. Let me go.”
   “I can't. Not yet. ” Logan added as Dee's eyes stare distrustfully up at him. He brushed himself off, glancing out the cell door. “I’m going to fetch Roman.”
   “What?” Dee hissed, his mouth hanging agape.
    “I'll do whatever it takes to end this, Dee. I give you my word.” Logan promised, holding his wrist tightly. “My life is in your hands, but I want Roman there. Whatever happens to me, I want him there.”
    “I can’t let you do that, Logan.” Dee warned with a growl. "Don't walk out that door."
    Logan took a step backwards towards the exit, holding up his hands in reassurance. “I promise I’ll return. My word is goo—”
    A grunt escaped Logan lips as a body slammed into him from behind. Instinctively, he moved to slip out of his attacker’s grip but their grip was iron tight. He struggled for a moment, blue sparks erupting from his arms until he was forced onto his chest with a painful thump. He gasped a metal shackles latched around his wrists and his lightning vanished. He gasped, feeling his power dissipate as a familiar giggle sounded behind him.
    “Oh, pretty boy.” Remus chirped happily in Logan’s ear. “For a second there, I thought Dee wasn’t going to let me out to play. He gets awful sappy when he talks about his dead friend—”
    “Get off him and give me the key, Remus.” Dee ordered, not looking up at Logan as he shamefully hung his head.
    “Dee, please.” Logan begged as Remus pulled him to his knees. He watched helplessly Remus tossed a brass key at Dee’s feet. “I said I’d do whatever you asked.”
    “Gag him.”
    “No—” Logan started to squirm, but Remus was prepared. He held him easily as he slipped a piece of cloth between Logan’s teeth.
     “You had to have known I'd prepared for your visit, didn't you?” Dee drawled lazily as the binds around his neck and legs fell free. Immediately, he took a deep breath as the light from his eyes glowed brighter and a bright shimmer passed  down the scales on his face and hands. “Nothing I've done has been left to chance. I kidnapped your prince and forced your hand on learning to use your power on your friends. I offered you the temptation of knowledge and tricked you into prying a confession out of that oaf of a prince. This was all planned for you to end up here understanding exactly why this is your burden to bear.”
    Logan glared at him, shivering as Remus’ hands grasped his shoulders. Dee stepped toward him, raising a finger to trace the scar on his face. He nearly collapsed to the ground at the reminder of the last time he’d spent helpless with Remus.
    “Our dear Remus has the unique ability to become undetectable when he needs to and fortunately you stepped right into my trap as predicted.” Dee smirked as his finger slid down Logan’s face. “The only thing I didn’t predict was your willingness to sacrifice yourself to make things right. Truly, that was a noble offer and one that won't go unnoted." Dee grinned as Logan's head shot down to the ground. "Maybe there truly is a glimmer of Tara behind those bright eyes.” Dee whispered as Logan hung his head to his chest as tears blurred his vision. “I don't want you to think this is personal, Logan. I’d be much happier walking you into this willingly, but I can’t take a chance that your prince wouldn’t be so honorable, so I'm sorry." Dee smiled sympathetically as Logan struggle in Remus' grip. "Truly I am, but too many people are relying on me to finish this for me to take chances.”
    Logan slumped back, defeated in Remus’ grip. Dee's gaze only lingered on him for a moment before he tore his gaze away and looked up to Remus.
     “Get him out of the castle. I will meet you at our rendezvous point,” Dee order sternly. “and Remus?”
      Logan shivered as Remus’ hand brushed his neck. He resisted the urge to retch as Remus grip on tightened on his shoulder, but the feeling only lasted a moment as Remus' hand was immediately yanked away from him. He flinched, expecting a blow to the side of his head, but when none came, he timidly looked up to see Dee holding Remus’ hand away from him. Both the men's eyes glowed brightly in the dim light as they stared at each other. Logan froze watching as power radiated through the air between them. An uncomfortable minute passed before Remus’ glowing green eyes flickered and returned to their normal color. Dee continued to stare at the changeling, voice dripping with power as he continued.
   “Not one hand on him that’s not absolutely necessary.” Dee hissed threateningly as Remus bowed his head submissively. “If even one hair on his head is out of place when I retrieve him from you, I will make you regret existing. Do you understand?”
    “If control’s what you’re into, I’m not objecting," Remus quipped with a chuckle. "but I really think we should talk about these thing beforehand—”
    “Answer me, Remus." Dee growled impatiently.
    Remus glared at him petulantly, but eventually he turned his head down with a snarl. “Fine. Pretty boy stays in good condition until you come to fetch your toy.”
    “Good, then go. I'll meet you as we planned,” Dee ordered sternly, shamefully avoiding the horrified look in Logan’s eyes as he pulled his sleeves over the bandages on his arms.
    “Alrighty then, pest.” Remus’ high  pitched chuckle sent shivers up his spine. “Time for a nap."
    Logan’s cry was muffled to a whimper as Remus pressed a cloth against his nose and mouth. He struggled in Remus' grip. The corners of his vision darkened as his movements weakened. He fought to remain conscious, but the battle was already lost. Regret flooded over him as his muscles stopped reacting and he drifted restlessly into an uncomfortable sleep.
---
Chapter Warnings: Restraints, Anger, Angst, Death Mentions, Lashing Out, Mentions of Kidnapping, Medical Treatment, Injuries, Blood, Guilt, Very brief unintentional self-harm, mentions of genocide, Drugging, Actual Kidnapping, Unsympathetic/Questionable Janus/Deciet
General Taglist:
@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck
You Belong With Me Taglist:
@cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname @ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @croftersphoenix @optimistic-violinist @chronicallynervouschild @croftersjam15 @actitus-hypoleucos @unbefuckinglieveable @justthatamount @eeveeeclair246 @taxicabinmemphis @theoddkidnextdoor @dwbh888
57 notes · View notes
wsxhyuk · 3 years
Text
hello hello! i’m here to bring you one of the first soloists that wishbone had and an absolutely trash of a person, but fantastically charismatic soloist, music producer, lyricist, rapper and vocal, jeong jaehyuk. he’s a jack of all trades, master of none (save for his production of music, rapping and singing) with a bit of an anger streak and anger issues that he’s been learning over the years to handle. darkly charismatic and with a open history due to a big scandal that he had few months into being introduced when he was in yuseong as one of the trainees to debut, hyuk is a performer with a 150% effort and attitude, living like he can burn out in a single day and not live to see the next sunrise tomorrow. incorrigible, possessive and with a slightly petty streak, he’s not one to pull his punches with anyone that offends him, though he’s been taming himself under wishbone’s watchful eye until more recently. call him a cesspool of moral filth or a festering pool of toxicity, he’s as deeply insecured behind his antagonistic nature, and has worked ten times as hard to get himself to where he kinda is in right now.
Tumblr media
both he and wishbone has played into the image of the bad boy of the group for him, especially after his first scandal back before he joined wishbone, and he plans to make the most of it, especially with the reins now loosened on his end. he’s spent quite the time being a tamed tiger, and isn’t going to hesitate upon wreaking havoc once he’s been let loosened.
do hit the like button if you’d like to plot with him, and i’ll pop into your discords / dms! hyuk’s a muse that i prefer brainstorming for instead of having plots ahead of time, so feel free to go ahead and throw anything in his direction when we discuss! everythingfrom his background to his career can be found all consolidated in his profile!
profile 
about stuff : (tw: abandonment, anger issues, violence)
he says he doesn’t have parents, which is partially true, considering he spent almost all of his life in the foster care system, until he aged out at 18. being bounced around from foster house to foster house in the adoption system didn’t do well for his own personality and view about himself, and he came away with a really bad anger streak and violent tendencies, especially when someone tries to poke him / agitates him.
if he wasn’t an idol, hyuk would have gone on to do some petty crimes, because prior to the age of 13 (when he was casted for his face), he was sliding towards the dark side of the law, running from school, getting into street fights, doing little things that never set a juvenile record, but still wasn’t all that clean either.
he was casted one day when running away from school when he was 13 (his results needless to say were trash), and was offered a contract because of his face. his company was looking for someone with similar vibes to his own, and was willing to train him as long as he remained committed to the trainee path. he took up the offer with the insistence of his then foster mother--the orphanage’s owner, who honestly couldn’t wait to get rid of him, due to all the trouble he made.
so jaehyuk became a yuseong trainee just through a scrape of luck--his rapping skills were pretty okay, and so were his vocals, and they felt as though they could polish him more if he did became a trainee, and so he started 3 years of his trainee life in yuseong. being a trainee actually directed a lot of his excess energy from his angered self into his personal commitment to master a single thing--and he eventually became known amongst trainees as one of the most competitive, even if he wasn’t the best at what he did.
he was like a blackhole, constantly desperate to learn, and when he learned something, he was equally as desperate to master it, just doing things in the way that he knew how to do--and that was to knock on it until he either punched a hole through and understood it, or the door opened on itself for him. rapping became that particular outlet that he felt he moderately achieved some success with, but it wasn’t enough.
hungry for more he turned his eyes to producing, composing, even took acting classes and variety classes, just to fill that gaping hole of inadequacy that he felt made him out to be just not enough. while he knows he’s not the best, he’s proud of his unique vision for performance, and is pretty insistent about his artistic vision, which he gradually found a talent for.
but well. its not enough. he wanted--no he needed more.
and so when he turned 16, yuseong finally felt he was ready, esp since he was known to be one of the most rounded and talented trainees in yuseong back then, due to the vocal and rapping skills he gained through hard work. 
funny thing is: just after he was slated to debut together with crescent, he lands himself in hot water for a violence scandal, having punched a male bystander in anger. yuseong was chagrined enough to put him on notice and probation for a while, and desperate to claim back a bit of a credibility, a press conference was held for him to apologise publically.
hyuk abandoned his pride (for various personal reasons as well) that day and went on his hands and knees in front of the reporters, apologising for his scandal and promising to be a better person. unfortunately, that sealed quite a lot of opportunities for him from his company.
due to his scandal, much of his history and background became publically disclosed  to the public--thus rendering it open knowledge that hyuk was an orphan (abandoned by his mother), and from the foster care system, with a slight history of not going well in school etc.
however this wasn’t enough, even though hyuk laid very low for the longest period of time, and he was kicked from yuseong one bright fine day, with nothing but the clothes on his back, his old guitar and second handed music production home studio. 
he would spend the next 6 years polishing up his instrumental skills, busking around EVERYWHERE and anywhere that wanted him, and putting up his self produced music on his soundcloud, under the name jae.de. 
eventually his infamy lessened, and instead more people started to appreciate his vocals and his rapping (the former which he performed the most live when he busked, and the latter, recorded at the goshiwon he stayed in for 3 years.) 
he has a small loyal following on his soundcloud for his music : musical references ( here , here and here .
when he was busking late in 2017, he was scouted once more by wishbone, and the first thing he told them was that he wanted maximum creative freedom for ALL of his work, which they granted him, in exchange for him going to constant therapy for his anger issues. 
he was on the pre-debut rapping single DDING, debuting in 2018 soon after it was released, this was the first official song which he co-produced, and wrote the lyrics for. the song contained satirical lyrics towards the the idol industry, and it marked the start of his lyrics being very direct, crude and yet catchy. 
Daechwita came next. he enjoyed the concept for that the most, before falling back to remind everyone once again that he was damn capable of singing with D (Half Moon). 
he’s willing to teach people how to play instruments, but he’s not particularly...patient. he knows how to play the piano, keyboard, guitar, bass, drums and electric guitar.
he has a 3 month old puppy that he named nameless because he couldn’t decide a name. 
he always dyes his hair / bleaches it so it’s a wonder how his scalp has survived all these years.
VOCAL CLAIMS / SIMILARITIES : DEAN, PENOMECO,  DPR LIVE, kim taehyung (v) [slight similarity in the low vocal tones & jazzy vibes], Gaho, Kwon Jiyong [ note that his vocal style varies a lot since he learned a lot of different methods of singing from almost everywhere, rather than your usual trainee places. his foundation still lies in a very idol-like style of singing, but over the 9 years, the stuff he’s learned through his 6 years of learning alone has eclipsed his idol foundation] 
RAPPING CLAIMS / SIMILARITIES: Min Yoongi (Suga), Kwon Jiyong, PENOMECO, ZICO, ZION.T, BOBBY, Loopy
his image is not particularly clean and bright, instead he’s known for the nitty gritty stuff, of which most of his fans have taken to his bad boy image, liking to imagine him to a particular trope because of his apparently rather handsome face.
some plot ideas:
he’s a lone wolf by nature, and so he has little (only 2) friends around him, unless you’re mostly from yuseong and have trained with him for a set amount and a good period of time. these are the people that know him the best, who sees past that angry battered child inside of him to the blackhole that’s yearning for approval and desperate to make himself feel whole again. they’ve seen his self destructive tendencies, watched him careen over the edge and violently fall, do things that he knows clearly isn’t good for him and then suffer the repercussions all over again. 
exes, flings, fwbs : god, he has so many. none of them are consistent, and none of them last between a month to two months really. he simply treats them as if there’s no option of anything further beyond just the wrestle of bodies in bedsheets, and the fierce scratch of his nails against their backs. more often than not, its not him that gets hurt, because he has the tendency to leave before anything further happens. has he fallen for any of them before? probably not. only one, really. don’t get your hopes up, he tells them with a cigarette dangling from his lips and puffs of smoke in the air. because he’s just nothing but the biggest jerk when it comes to feelings and relationships.
the bad influence: he does a lot of vices, from smoking to drinking, to just..a lot of things that most people won’t attempt to try, chasing after that fleeting moment of a thrill and desire. perhaps you’re looking for a kindred spirit who likes the thrill of danger as you do, or you’d like him to spoil you for the worse things in life, open a door to destroy and ruin you completely just like he feels that he’s done to himself.
rivals: ...yeah i don’t think i need to say more, because he’s someone that rises up to the challenge so fully and completely its almost as if he’s itching to have a fight or a challenge. perhaps he’s punched you before, or you differ in your philosophies and values, one way or another, it’s hyuk’s fault that he’s offended you, and you’re both just going to go down because of it.
fans: you were a fan of him before that, when he faded back into obscurity after his scandal. perhaps you were one of the loyal few that listened to all of his soundcloud productions and heard of his busking sessions and gigs. the saddest thing is that he’s just very...bad with interactions :’) or else he wouldn’t be known infamously as the worst person to have on a variety show. he’s not known to do much fanservice for his fans--his fanservice is equated to his music, and perhaps you have a few things that you wanna teach him about it, even if he doesn’t want to learn. 
instruments / music production: you’ve admired a bit of his skills in music production / instruments, and you want to learn a bit more on how to polish your skills / have a little help in that area...it’s just a matter of convincing him a little to help out because he wants something in exchange, and says that nothing in this world is free.
LAST BUT NOT LEAST CONGRATS ON MAKING IT TO THE END 
here’s a reward for you-
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
The Power of Friendship or Something Like That | Clark Kent
✦ (platonic) pairing — Clark Kent x Plus Size Reader
✦ word count — 700-ish
✦ request — can you write a Clark x reader where the reader is a “villain” (i.e. commits minor crimes and robberies just to annoy him) and has a friendly sort of rivalry with him until there’s a moment where Clark sees a more vulnerable side to her and the two of them grow closer than occasional adversaries (but the reader still does crimes because it’s fun to do and damnit, someone has to give Superman a job)?
✦ warnings — mentions of blood, a little bit of platonic fluff
✦ a/n — this makes it sound like I’m against looting or shoplifting but I’m not. I don’t give a shit about companies, just please help preserve local and small businesses!
❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎
Clark had heard the question before, “Why does Superman waste his time and powers in solving petty crimes?”
He had his reasons. Bruce had always said Superman inspired people and Clark took such responsibility seriously.
He got acquainted with you by mistake, in his attempts to stop you from stealing a watch off a man you cataloged as a misogynistic pig who had groped a gal on her way home. He tried to understand, he really did, but he just couldn’t rationalize your fascination with crime.
Seeing you helping a little girl gave him an ounce of hope that you were changing your approach and manners.
You weren’t squeamish — blood was whatever, insects didn’t faze you, wet sounds were funny even. But you couldn’t bear the sight of a child crying.
The little girl crying for her dog absolutely broke your heart. She hiccuped as she explained her dog had escaped, worried that her beloved pet would be harmed.
And so you made it your personal mission to find the dog. The adorable ball of fluff had been scared at first, it hadn’t been easy to convince them to go back home, and carrying them left you with a few bruises.
Her smile was worth every bite and scratch. Beaming faces were the only expression a child should ever carry.
You nodded upward in greeting as Superman approached you, bitting down your bottom lip as you applied alcohol to the nastiest bite the scared dog had given you.
“Do you need help?”
Shaking your head, you inhaled deeply and threw the bloodied cotton swabs to the trash.
“Did you steal those supplies?”
You had stolen them. What else did he expect? You wouldn’t waste your already tight paycheck on things you never needed. Well, almost never needed.
Tearing a pack of gauzes open, you said, “Don’t worry, the idiot who owns the pharmacy laundries money.”
Clark sighed. Of course he did, and of course your idea of justice was stealing from him.
“You could tell that to the police.”
You chuckled, throwing everything else to the trash. “You can’t be that naive to think police doesn’t know already.” Seeing him frown, you gave him a pitiful smile.
You admired how much he believed in people, it was nice to have someone who cared so much with no expectations to get anything in return. But it was frustrating at times, not everyone needed or wanted to be saved and not everyone who looked like an ally was one.
“You can do your part still,” he shrugged sheepishly, as if trying to convince you. “What you did for that child proves you know how to.”
“Children are different,” you told him, sliding down the brick-wall to sit on the pavement with your back against the bricks. “They’re always innocent.
He sat down in the same fashion, against the wall in front of you. “I like kids too, you know?”
Nodding, you let out a small laugh. “You like everyone... how? I don’t know, but you really do.”
You had seen him helping every type of person, always eager to better their lives and keep them safe.
“It’s easy, everyone deserves love and respect.”
“That’s the thing: being nice and believing in people isn’t easy — but for you, it’s like a reflex, that’s why people need you.”
Hearing such things coming from you hit differently. He had never had a sitting down conversation with you, it was the first time he heard you talk like yourself.
“It sounds like you need better company.”
“Maybe,” you conceded, looking down at your lap. “But one can't have better company when there are no better people around.”
“I am your friend.”
Smiling, you tilted your head to look at his hopeful face. “You’re not convincing me to quit my gig.”
Groaning, he slapped his hands against his thighs. “But we are friends! I can’t chase a friend.”
“You can chase me in a friendly manner and I can give you a job in a friendly manner. Think of it as keeping each other in shape.”
Clark couldn’t help but laugh. It was so contagious that you joined in. You had forgotten when was the last time you had laughed with a friend.
He stopped suddenly, perceiving a new sound. You chuckled, hurrying him to go save whoever he needed to save.
“See?” He jumped to his feet. “You can be nice.”
You watched him leave, groaning as you tried to stand up. Such a small dog should t have done so much damage. At least the dog was cute.
171 notes · View notes
flying-nightwing · 4 years
Text
The Three Words to Remember in Dealing with the End
I’m trying something new y’all, this is a third person POV because I want you to unveil the actions at the same pace as Jason and not MC/reader. I absolutely loved writing this, so hopefully I did it right and you will enjoy this adventure like I did!
ps: this isn’t something fun or light hearted, it might be triggering for some people. if you are in a fragile mindset right now (especially with everything that’s happening right now), maybe it would be best to save it for later. Please take care of yourselves xx
Masterlist in bio/pinned
Pairing: Jason Todd x reader (ish) 
Word count: 5060 
Warnings: death (major theme), language
Summary: Jason finds something deeply unsettling during a not so typical night in Gotham (I’m not saying more y’all, read and find out).
Tumblr media
It had been a strange night for Jason. Things had been quiet, not too quiet to become suspicious, but enough to underwhelm him at an unsettling level. Everything from the gloomy, yellow-ish night sky above him to his tensed muscles screamed trouble--and his instincts were rarely wrong--but there was nothing big happening. He was almost tempted to pick a fight with the wrong person just for the sake of it, just to shake off this nagging feeling that serious shit was about to blow in his face. Although starting beef again with Sionis would be quite entertaining, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with another tantrum from the eccentric man on the longer term. 
So instead, he kicked the door from the building’s roof on which he was hanging around and half heartedly climbed down the stairs. Plastic tarps were flapping around in his face like badly designed Halloween ghosts, and the wind in the half constructed walls were whispering unintelligible songs in his ears. That specific construction site had been abandoned as the recurrent vandalism had weighed the construction costs into the negative, making the company leaving it behind completely as a rotting proof the poorer Gotham neighborhoods were no longer a concern to city hall. Jason thought about the community center that had been bulldozed down to make room for the apartment complex, leaving dozens if not hundreds of children and teenagers without an after school hangout place, and it made him sigh. Now the cheap carcass served to shelter squatters, or well, him when he needed a hideout in between safe houses. 
The building in itself wasn’t very high like the skyscrapers one could find in the diamond district, it was rather on par with the rest of the apartment complexes around. From a distance, you couldn’t even differentiate it from the rest. Cheap, smog stained concrete looked the same whether or not it was a finished product. The aesthetics wasn’t something developers around here were aiming for, nor were the resident seeking lodging. Low income neighborhoods didn’t get to benefit from trendy landscaping. But the city didn’t really care about that, they claimed nobody really came around here anyway, like poor people weren’t people in the first place. But Jason knew, and every day he resented those officials on the city council a little bit more. 
A thud coming from the floor he had just passed made him halt his descent, his ears strained to try and catch some more noise. He waited a few seconds, and concluded it must have been a squatter tripping and falling on the floor when no other sound followed. But he hadn’t taken a full step down that a loud and clear cry for help bounced on the unfinished plaster on the walls. Without much more thinking, he turned around and climbed back up the five steps he had already taken, going straight for the origin of the sound. He was about to round the corner of a threshold when he bumped into a frantic young woman, her eyes wide and terrified.
“Please help!” She cried, gripping the sleeves of his leather jacket like it was a lifeline. She had an angry, scabbed rope mark on her neck and bruises the size of fingerprints around. “Somebody’s after me, he tried to strangle me!”
Well, that was a new one. Usually, there would be little punks making graffiti or trying to steal material from the structure, petty non-violent crimes like that, but he had never seen homicide, especially not since he started coming around. Nevertheless, he gently pushed the woman aside and pulled out his gun, ready to investigate.
“Stay close” He said, and she nodded vigorously. He carefully walked inside the room, analysing his surroundings for any thread or hostile individual. The floor creaked lightly under his boots, making the woman jump every other second. However, his search eventually came up empty, so he clicked the safety of his gun back on and slid it back in his thigh holster. He faced the girl and shrugged. “If there was anyone here, he’s long gone”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah” He replied. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m not sure” She flinched, still visibly. “To either questions, to be honest. All I remember was seeing this blurred figure grab my head and slam it on the floor, then his hands were around my neck… And I woke up, and there we are” 
“Do you have any idea who did this?”
“No really” She rubbed her temples. “I was grabbed on my way back from work and dragged in here. I know it was a man, but he was masked”
“Damn” He muttered, looking around. There wasn’t much left to do now, beside making sure that woman got home safely. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Do you have somewhere safe to go?” 
“Yeah, I have an apartment a few blocks away” She nodded timidly.
They climbed down the stairs, Jason following a pace behind her. She was recoiled on herself, her eyes darting from one place to another like she was expecting to be jumped at any time now. She was shivering from the harsh wind, clearly not dressed for one of Gotham’s cold September nights. He thought she was lucky to have fallen onto him and not someone with ill intentions. The people coming here usually left each other alone, but with the lady’s assailant on the loose, he wouldn’t be so trusting of everyone’s intentions around here. 
“Here, we’re almost out” He said as the front door came into view. She sighed in relief as she took the last step down and closed the distance with the door. She reached for the handle, pulled, but nothing moved. She then tried to push, but it didn’t move any more. 
“I-It’s like it’s locked” She stuttered in disbelief. 
“Let me try” Jason stepped forward, pushing and pulling the door like she did before. Strange, that door was never, ever locked. He then tried to pick it, even break it, to no avail. The door simply wouldn’t open. He huffed and took a step back, thinking. “Let’s try the backdoor”
The pair moved through the ground floor, passing in front of a few empty sleeping bags on the way. Jason went straight for the small door, only to be met with the same problem. 
“Alright, you wanna play this game?” He muttered harshly, pulling out his gun and aiming at the handle. He fired a shot, but the bullet bounced right back on his red helmet. “Son of a bitch!”
He muttered a few more curses before kicking the stubborn door in frustration, then turned to the woman. 
“Well, somebody doesn’t want us to leave '' He stated with bitter humour. “Maybe your wannabe killer is still around, after all”
“Oh god” She gasped, her chest suddenly heaving quickly. She was having a panic attack. “We’re trapped. We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”
“Hey, hey” He tried to reassure her, an uncertain hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let him get near you. He certainly didn’t plan on having me around, so he’ll stay away if he knows what’s good for him. We’ll find a way out”
She bent over, hands on her knees, and shut her eyes tight, focusing on her breathing until it somewhat calmed down. She then nodded slowly, standing straighter again. “O-okay”
“You sure?”
She took a deep breath and nodded again.
“Alright…” He drawled out, looking at her for a second more to be sure she was actually okay. “Let’s go around and see if there’s anyone in here tonight, and if they have seen anything”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” She eyed him with uncertainty. “...He could be out there”
“Then it’s his mistake” He shrugged. “Come on”
Like earlier, she followed closely behind him as he checked each floor in detail. He came across a few homeless people he had seen around before, none of which could ever commit murder, or attempt to for that matter. He saw it in their eyes, they were harmless. They had been on the second floor, the only one which seemed inhabited at all that night. The third floor came up empty as well, so Jason didn’t waste time there either. However, he was a little more careful on the fourth. It was where he had found the girl, so there was a slight chance the assaulter might still be hanging around there. He began with the first apartment on the left, then the one on the right he initially searched. He paid specific attention to any detail he might find; hair, cloth, blood splatter, anything. He was crouched over a suspicious stain when he heard it.
A deafening scream.
In less than a second, he was on his feet and through the threshold of an adjacent room, only to come face to face with a decaying corpse. The woman was staring with horror like she was in a trance, a hand covering her mouth to either hold back any more screams or her own vomit. Probably both, Jason thought. 
“That definitely complicates things now” He hummed. 
“How can you be so calm?” She was freaking out again. “There’s a body! A dead body!”
“Yeah, I know” He replied, unbothered, taking a step closer to observe. The nauseous smell of decomposition was starting to get through his helmet, and he genuinely wondered how she hadn’t barfed her guts up already. Her state of shock perhaps helped to keep her together, at least for now. “Looks like it’s a woman. Probably has been there for two weeks or--fuck this is nasty”
He backed up and gently pulled her out of the room, away from the corpse. She didn’t need to see anymore of it. 
“Well, there’s good news and bad news” He sighed. “Bad news is your guy and this poor woman’s killer are most likely the same person. Good news is that you, unlike her, escaped him”
“Oh god” She gagged, but dry heaved on air. “This can’t be happening”
“Okay, listen” He sighed, “I’m sure this is a lot for you, and you didn’t ask for any of this. But the killer is potentially here keeping us trapped, and I need you to hold it together a little bit longer until I figure this out, kay?”
She gave him a wild look like he was crazy. “How can you expect me to hold it together?”
“Is there anything you can focus on?” He tried, getting a bit impatient. Things weren’t adding up in his head and he needed to concentrate, but he couldn’t if his new unwilling investigation partner started freaking out every other minute. Then, he noticed her fingers fidgeting with a necklace around her neck, a small ring with a azur gem hanging from it. “What does that ring mean?”
She looked down at it, like she was surprised she had subconsciously showed it up. “Uh, it was my mother’s. Family heirloom, y’know. She gave it to me when I graduated college”
“It’s very pretty” He said. “Look at it and think about your mother, okay?”
She nodded, and he took a step away to pace around in peace. So there was a killer who managed to trap them into the building, or intended to trap only her, which was why he was hiding away now that Jason was here too. But then again, Marty on the second floor didn’t see or hear anything all night, and that guy had a sharper ear than a cat. Then came the question of why he didn’t see or smell the body on his first general scouting of the place. Surely, a decaying body would have ticked him off way sooner. Maybe the killer dragged the body from a higher floor? It would make no sense as to why he would have done that, but there was no other logical explanation. 
He went to rub the bridge of his nose, only to be met with his helmet. He let out another muffled curse and looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “This is the one time I could use one of my stupid brothers”
“Why?”
He let out a dry chuckle. “They’re idiots and annoying as fuck, but they’re better detectives than I could ever be. Solving this nonsense puzzle would be an easy game for them”
“Then what’s stopping you from calling them?”
Jason paused, staring at the woman for a moment. No, it wasn’t that simple. “Last time we spoke, I… We fought pretty bad. I don’t think they ever want to see me again”
“I’m sure--” 
“We’re on our own for this, trust me” He interrupted, his tone dry enough to make her recoil. He coughed and relaxed his tense posture, taking a deep breath. “I can solve this, I don’t need them. I’ll go check the body again, stay here”
“Wait!” She called before he could turn around. “What if he comes back?”
He blinked a few times, then began patting his side and pockets. He wouldn’t leave her a gun, or she’d hurt herself in the state she was in, or accidently shoot him for that matter. Nervous firing rarely even found their intended target anyway. A knife was also out of the question for the same reasons. Besides, she didn’t seem skilled enough to hold her own with a blade, and he had no idea what weapons the killer carried. The knife would basically be useless, if not more dangerous for her. He finally felt a small lump in his pant pocket, then fished for it. He pulled a small taser that definitely wasn’t his, remembering he had disarmed it from a goon earlier that night. He had no idea he had kept it, but it would do. 
“Here” He held it up to eye level, pressing the button. A blue-ish current was formed, crackling and fizzling. “You hold it out and press the side button to turn it on. Don’t point it at me or yourself. Got it?”
“Uh-- I guess--”
“Great” He pushed the device in her hand and turned on his heels without more ceremonies. 
He inhaled deeply and held his breath as he returned to the corpse, thinking about a thousand better ways he could have been spending his Friday night. He crouched next to it, grimacing at the decaying skin that made the victim’s identity barely recognizable. He noticed the dried out hair first, it was the same color as the poor girl on the other side of the wall. The exact same, he could have sworn. The killer must have a very specific m.o. he stuck to. There had been a couple of girls going missing in the last weeks, it must have been one of them. Nobody would think to check here, or rather nobody would bother. He turned his head to the side, coughing as he worked to catch his breath despite the putrid smell. He forced himself to return to his half assed detective work, scanning for any trace of struggle or aggression. The rope the killer used to choke her was still around her neck, but that was nothing Jason could work with as he already knew about the obvious neck fetish that was in play here. He poked the rotten skin with the end of his gun, pushing hair and clothes away to try and find something he could have missed with a first glance. No viable piece of information could be found in the teeth or under the nail since he was about two weeks too late, and he could not make the distinction between decomposition marks and actual contusion marks. Dammit. He had nothing.
He was about to give up when something shiny got his attention on the victim’s chest. There was a chain plunging into the neckline of her shirt, and with his gun he carefully pulled it up. He was certain his brain physically broke in two when he came face to face with a stained, yet recognizable ring with an azur stone. 
“What…” He trailed off softly. “... The Fuck”
Thinking about it, the victim’s clothes were awfully similar to what the lady on the other side was wearing, beside the obvious dirtiness difference. He looked over his shoulder, to where she was pacing nervously, then back to the corpse. Same hair, same clothes, same ring. Same approximate size, same bone structure, rope position coinciding with her strangling mark. Jason did not want to be thinking what he was thinking, because only crazy people were seeing ghosts. But was he totally sane? That was debatable. It would explain why they were locked in the building for no goddamn reason, or why Marty didn’t hear anything, or why he did not notice the corpse or the smell during his initial search, or why that lady did not stop once to rethink asking an armed stranger in a red mask for help, or why… 
Besides, ghosts would not even make the list of the weirdest things he’s seen. He himself came back from the dead, so the idea wasn’t actually that far fetched. But now, the question he faced was, how do you tell someone they’re dead, when they’re convinced they’re alive? Bruce’s training did not prepare him for that, and honestly neither did Ra’s. 
He slowly stood up, trying to scour his brain for a gentle way to break it to her. He couldn't just rip the bandaid off, that would be insensitive. And if she really did control who could get in and out of the building, would sending her into ghost shock--if that was even a thing--risk trapping him here forever as well? How does one even deal with a bloody ghost? Reluctantly, he returned to the other room, where the woman looked at him with hopeful eyes. Jason felt a pinch in his heart, knowing he would be the one to break the news to her.
“Anything?” She asked, her arms wrapping around herself. He gave a sad nod, and she sighed in relief. “Good, I just wanna go home”
“I…” He struggled to find the words. “What’s your name?”
“(Y/N)” She said, uncertain. 
Jason was glad his mask hid his expression. His eyes closed as his suspicions were officially confirmed; she had disappeared a little less than three weeks ago without a trace. She had been presumed dead by the GCPD, apparently rightfully so, he found out. 
“(Y/N), I have good news and bad news”
She kept staring at him to let him speak. She didn’t seem to grasp the undertone of his words, or how he somehow said it completely differently than the previous time. She really wasn’t aware of her situation. 
“Good news is that I found who the victim is” He began, his voice heavy. He wasn’t the type to just get emotional for strangers like this, but this one especially struck a chord in him. “Bad news is… You’re--you’re not going home, (Y/N)”
Her face fell. “W-What?”
“The… Body, on the other side” He half heartedly pointed behind him. “It’s you. You went missing three weeks ago, and you’re...”
“That’s crazy!” She shrieked. “That’s impossible! I’m here, I’m right here, I’m real…”
Her voice faltered at the end, like she was starting to doubt herself. Jason softly jerked his head to the other room, silently making his way back to the corpse with her carefully following behind. He stopped and crouched like he had done minutes ago, and in the same way, lifted the ring. Something clicked in her face, a newfound horror etching on her features. This time, it wasn’t because she found a corpse, but because she found out the corpse was hers. 
“No…” She stumbled back, and Jason hurried to steady her. He didn’t know if it was necessary, since she probably couldn’t even feel physical pain anymore, but it seemed like the right thing to do. He escorted her out of the room once again and waited beside her as her entire reality came crashing down. It felt surreal for him, he couldn’t even imagine what it was like for her. He let her slide down the wall and rest her head in her hands as she processed all of this.  “I can’t be… My family, they must be worried sick”
“I’m sorry, (Y/N)” He sighed, sliding down next to her.
“But I’m--” She tried to argue, then a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m not ready to go”
He took off his mask for the first time, ruffling his hair in the process. The least he could do was to give her a human face as the last she would ever see. “Take all the time you need, I’ve got nowhere else to be”
She eyed him with confusion, at both the removal of his mask and his words. “Why?”
He smiled sadly at her. “I don’t think you should be alone right now. I’m Jason, nice to formally meet you”
“I don’t think it matters now” She mumbled, casting her glance downward. She handed him back the small taser, realizing she wouldn't need it anymore. “I’m dead. I don’t even know how I’m even still here, or where I’m even going. I don’t understand anything--”
“You don’t have to,” He interrupted softly. “It’s okay not to understand. And it’s okay to be afraid. But death is a part of life, and despite how scary it might be when it rings at your door, sometimes it’s better not to fight it”
“Easy to say for someone who is still alive” She said, making his lips subtly curl up. At least she was calming down now.
“I died years ago” He admitted, and her eyes widened comically. “No, I’m not a ghost if that’s what you’re wondering. I was resurrected through magic… But I know what it feels like”
“How did you die?” Her voice was barely a whisper. 
Jason hesitated. He wasn’t used to talking about this, but he figured he could at least vent to a ghost. It might even make her feel better about the circumstances of her death, he thought. “I died in an explosion” He finally revealed as he looked away. “I realized I was dead when the countdown reached two seconds and nobody came for me. Two seconds isn’t a long time to come to term with the end of your own existence, and everything that comes after”
“I suppose not” She sighed. “I guess I’m lucky I have time to figure it out. What’s it like, on the other side?”
“I honestly can’t really remember” He shook his head. “My memory from the moment I closed my eyes to when I reopened them is scrambled. And even if I did recall, it might be different from you”
“You think so?”
“I hope so”
He did not elaborate on that, and she did not ask. Jason wasn’t sure whether his visions of hell were from his time in the grave, or if the pit messed with his perspective, but he certainly hoped this girl wouldn’t have to go through something similar as well. They waited in silence for a moment as neither felt the need to speak up. He respected her need to have a moment to herself to absorb all this like he had wished he could have had. He had never felt as vulnerable as when he waited, helpless and unable to move, for the bomb to go off. He had been terrified, clinging to a last hope it was just a nightmare, or that help would have swept in at the last second like it always happened in the movies. He had been truly alone then. Perhaps it was why she had found him earlier, she felt his connection to death and his ability to relate. She seeked one last ray of warmth before disappearing, one last attempt not to be forgotten by reaching out to someone with the best chance to understand her. He doubted it was a coincidence he was the one she let help her.
“You didn’t have to stay with me…” She spoke up. It could have been ten minutes or more, Jason couldn’t tell. He had been in his head the whole time. “But you did, for what it’s worth. Thank you, Jason”
“You’re welcome, I guess” He half shrugged. “It’s… It’s just things I wish had been said to me in my last moments, comfort I wish had been brought to me when it was time to go. I’m glad it helped ease this transition for you”
She gave him a small smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. He could feel her unnatural cold radiating on him, see the bleakness of her skin and the absence or a steady rise and fall of her chest now that he was up close.
“Well, I’m glad you found me” She muttered, letting her hand fall back down to her side. “I… I think I’m ready to go. But before, could you do me a last favor?
“Sure” He nodded.
“Could you bring back my necklace to my mother?” She asked, staring straight into his eyes. And probably his soul, by the looks of it. “This case might never be solved, I don’t want it to be lost in an evidence bag”
He was initially surprised by the request, but it made sense. This would be the last thing her mother would have of her daughter, and it didn’t belong in a locker kept away forever. He nodded. “I can do that”
“Thank you” She gave him the first real smile he had seen on her face. Her eyes had lost the life in them, that was obvious, but there was this peacefulness that hadn’t been there before. Her resolve to accept her faith showed more and more in her expression, and it was steadily becoming clearer she did not belong to this plane of existence anymore. Two weeks trapped in between life and death without being heard or seen must have been so exhausting, and now she was ready to let go. “Just one more thing”
Jason furrowed his eyebrows at her sudden knowing expression. He could see it clearly despite her image slowly fading away. Was she even aware of it? He didn’t know, but it didn’t seem painful. He hoped it wasn’t, she deserved an undisturbed rest for what had been done to her in this life.
“A piece of unwanted advice from a dead girl?” Her tone was a bit playful. He let out a quiet chuckle, his shoulders barely raising. “Call your brothers”
She became serious, and so did he.
“The worst thing about this, is that I left this life without even being able to say proper goodbyes to my family” She explained. “I wish more than anything I could just see them one more time to tell them I love them, but I can’t. Don’t take for granted there will always be a later for it, because there might not be”
“I…” 
“Please, for me” She said, almost entirely faded now. “I hope I see you again one day, Jason. Thank you for everything”
And then she was gone. Jason stared at the empty space beside him, like there had never been anyone there. The cold spot was gone, and with it the last image of her smiling face. The smell of the corpse returned at full strength now that she wasn’t there to manipulate the surroundings, but he couldn’t be bothered by it as much as he was before. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from where she had been seconds ago, struggling to tell whether or not it had actually happened. But it must have, the entire experience had felt way too real to be a product of his imagination, and the dead body served as a material proof his head didn’t conjure it all up. Slowly, he stood up and went back to the body for one last time. He’d have to place an anonymous call to the police to tip them to the body tomorrow, after giving a heads up to the squatters to steer clear of the building until the situation died down. He bent down and only took the necklace without disturbing anything else, slipping it in a pocket for safe keeping. He’d also have to find a way to give it back to her mother without making it seem like he had killed the girl…
With one last silent goodbye to a new found yet ephemeral friend, Jason made his way down to the first floor, his step a little slower and heavier than last time. The first light of the morning peeked shyly through the sky of Gotham as the clouds appeared clear up, like it was their way of reflecting the peaceful passing of a soul on the other side. He never believed in symbolism in nature, but this once, just this once, he could make an exception. He reached the bottom of the stairs and carefully made his way to the main doors, pausing in front of it. The birds in the walls didn’t seem to mind him as they sang the arrival of the morning, and he put back his mask to face the outside once again. He gripped the door handle, pushing even so slightly.
It opened with a groan.
Sighing, he stepped outside and fished for his phone in his back pocket. He went to his contacts, scrolling down until he found the name he was looking for. Reluctantly, he pressed it and came face to face with the taunting call icon. Surely he would still be awake, his patrol would have ended not too long ago. Or he’d be asleep, and then he’d disturb him. Hesitating, his thumb hovered above the lock screen button, then over the call one, then again, the lock screen. He let out a frustrated huff, looking at the sky. There might not be a later… Or perhaps there will. But was he ready to take that chance? He looked at his phone again, taking a deep breath and making his decision.
As the first sun ray reflected his helmet, he called Dick Grayson for the first time in years.
111 notes · View notes
cr-darksienna · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
hello hello! i’m here to bring you an idol group’s absolutely trash of a leader, rapper and vocal, jeong jaehyuk. he’s a jack of all trades, master of none with a bit of an anger streak and anger issues that he’s been learning over the years to handle. darkly charismatic and with a open history due to a big scandal that he had few months into riot’s debut, hyuk is a performer with a 150% effort and attitude, living like he can burn out in a single day and not live to see the next sunrise tomorrow. incorrigible, possessive and with a slightly petty streak, he’s not one to pull his punches (esp with his members) with anyone that offends him, though he’s been taming himself under bc’s watchful eye until more recently. call him a cesspool of moral filth or a festering pool of toxicity, he’s as deeply insecured behind his antagonistic nature, and has worked ten times as hard for 13 years in his company to get himself to where he kinda is in right now, neither here nor there, halted in his steps by a company that feels he’s not up to it due to his loose handle on emotions and a desperate attempt to quell down on the various scandals that knight has had.
his company has played into the image of the bad boy of the group for him, especially after his first (and only) scandal, and he plans to make the most of it, especially with the reins now loosened on his end. he’s spent quite the time being a tamed tiger, and isn’t going to hesitate upon wreaking havoc once he’s been let loosened.
do hit the like button if you’d like to plot with him, and i’ll pop into your discords / dms! hyuk’s a muse that i prefer brainstorming for instead of having plots ahead of time, so feel free to go ahead and throw anything in his direction when we discuss!
profile / background 
about stuff : (tw: abandonment, anger issues, violence)
he says he doesn’t have parents, which is partially true, considering he spent almost all of his life in the foster care system, until he aged out at 18. being bounced around from foster house to foster house in the adoption system didn’t do well for his own personality and view about himself, and he came away with a really bad anger streak and violent tendencies, especially when someone tries to poke him / agitates him.
if he wasn’t an idol, hyuk would have gone on to do some petty crimes, because prior to the age of 13 (when he was casted by bc for his face), he was sliding towards the dark side of the law, running from school, getting into street fights, doing little things that never set a juvenile record, but still wasn’t all that clean either.
he was casted one day when running away from school when he was 13 (his results needless to say were trash), and was offered a contract because of his face. his company was looking for someone with similar vibes to his own, and was willing to train him as long as he remained committed to the trainee path. he took up the offer with the insistence of his then foster mother--the orphanage’s owner, who honestly couldn’t wait to get rid of him, due to all the trouble he made.
so jaehyuk became a trainee just through a scrape of luck--his rapping skills were pretty okay, and so were his vocals, and bc felt as though they could polish him more if he did became a trainee, and so he started 13 years of his trainee life. being a trainee actually directed a lot of his excess energy from his angered self into his personal commitment to master a single thing--and he eventually became known amongst trainees as one of the most competitive, even if he wasn’t the best at what he did.
he was like a blackhole, constantly desperate to learn, and when he learned something, he was equally as desperate to master it, just doing things in the way that he knew how to do--and that was to knock on it until he either punched a hole through and understood it, or the door opened on itself for him. rapping became that particular outlet that he felt he moderately achieved some success with, but it wasn’t enough.
hungry for more he turned his eyes to producing, composing, even took acting classes and variety classes, just to fill that gaping hole of inadequacy that he felt made him out to be just not enough. while he knows he’s not the best, he’s proud of his unique vision for performance, and is pretty insistent about his artistic vision, which he gradually found a talent for.
but well. its not enough. he wanted--no he needed more.
and so when riot came and he became their leader by some crappy stroke of fate, he set what he felt was the lowest boundary  for all of their members : respect each other, give your best to all that you do for riot, if not, i will sock you in the face. from the beginning, hyuk was very clear that he wouldn’t be the best leader, because he knew he had more than enough flaws in himself, and even felt that he lacked the qualifications to be one, but since his own fate relied on riot being successful, he expected everyone else in the group to at the very least, treat it with the same respect and effort he does, because one way or another they’re all in this whole thing together.
funny thing is: a few months after their debut and their first scandal (that wasn’t his), he lands himself in hot water for a violence scandal, having punched a male bystander in anger. bc was chagrined enough to put him on notice and probation for a while, and desperate to claim back a bit of a credibility, a press conference was held for him to apologise publically.
hyuk abandoned his pride (for various personal reasons as well) that day and went on his hands and knees in front of the reporters, apologising for his scandal and promising to be a better person. unfortunately, that sealed quite a lot of opportunities for him from his company.
his company felt that he needed to get a better grip on his emotions and anger issues before coming out again to the public in other areas apart from his group, and so he wasn’t able to do any variety or act , or even produce any songs (he still wrote lyrics and produced for his group occasionally, and could still produce his own songs, but those songs he produced wouldn’t be selected for a solo), and so to pacify his company hyuk literally abstained from creating another scandal from himself (though he did still cause a bit of problems in his own group), and held himself back until much recently. apart from that, his company publically disclosed much of his history and background to the public--thus rendering it open knowledge that hyuk was an orphan (abandoned by his mother), and from the foster care system, with a slight history of not going well in school etc.
his image is not particularly clean and bright, instead he’s known for the nitty gritty stuff, of which most of his fans have taken to his bad boy image, liking to imagine him to a particular trope because of his apparently rather cute face.
some plot ideas:
he’s a lone wolf by nature, and so he has little (only 2) friends around him, unless you’re mostly from bc and have trained with him for a set amount and a good period of time. these are the people that know him the best, who sees past that angry battered child inside of him to the blackhole that’s yearning for approval and desperate to make himself feel whole again. they’ve seen his self destructive tendencies, watched him careen over the edge and violently fall, do things that he knows clearly isn’t good for him and then suffer the repercussions all over again. ( note: cannot be from his group..he probably doesn’t have a good relationship with most of the riot members)
exes, flings, fwbs : god, he has so many. none of them are consistent, and none of them last between a month to two months really. he simply treats them as if there’s no option of anything further beyond just the wrestle of bodies in bedsheets, and the fierce scratch of his nails against their backs. more often than not, its not him that gets hurt, because he has the tendency to leave before anything further happens. has he fallen for any of them before? probably not. only one, really. don’t get your hopes up, he tells them with a cigarette dangling from his lips and puffs of smoke in the air. because he’s just nothing but the biggest jerk when it comes to feelings and relationships.
the bad influence: he does a lot of vices, from smoking to drinking, to just..a lot of things that most people won’t attempt to try, chasing after that fleeting moment of a thrill and desire. perhaps you’re looking for a kindred spirit who likes the thrill of danger as you do, or you’d like him to spoil you for the worse things in life, open a door to destroy and ruin you completely just like he feels that he’s done to himself.
rivals: ...yeah i don’t think i need to say more, because he’s someone that rises up to the challenge so fully and completely its almost as if he’s itching to have a fight or a challenge. perhaps he’s punched you before, or you differ in your philosophies and values, one way or another, it’s hyuk’s fault that he’s offended you, and you’re both just going to go down because of it.
connection:
the girl he’s in love with (possibly his endgame ; arnd 26 yrs old?) : an idol from a group as well, she’s one of his few closest friends, and he’s known her for around 13 years. they have a on & off friends with benefits thing, with him meeting her after she left his company for 10 years. he’s the one she always gravitates to back again, and they’re equally, broken, twisted and carnal--that’s why they’re perfect for each other, since they’re the only ones that can take and survive each other.
4 notes · View notes
a-n-conrad · 5 years
Text
Thinking of You (Dabi x Reader)
[Summary: As a hero, you’ve been keeping an eye on all of the villains in your area for a while. Strangely, one of the worst villains you’ve ever seen seems to be going easy on you. Is he starting to give up on being a villain or does he just have a soft spot for you?
A/N: Did I post this on the wrong blog at first and not realize it right away? Yes, absolutely.
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of murder, lightly implied smut (kind of)]
As you sat on your perch, a small, darkened window, overshadowed by an overhang of the floor above, you took the opportunity to glance away from the jewelry store you were surveying to double-check the text you had gotten from Eraserhead giving you the intel you needed to know where and when to prepare your ambush of the villain you had been targeting for about a month.
Apparently, after his last run-in with the League of Villains, Aizawa had gotten enough intel that he was confident that one of the villains that he had run into would be attacking a store in your jurisdiction. Of course, he didn’t mention which of the villains it would be but seeing as a certain blue-eyed, fiery young man had been stirring up trouble in your area throughout the past few weeks you had figured it out pretty quickly.
You were a bit surprised that Aizawa had reached out to you, seeing as you weren’t exactly an extremely high ranking hero. You were decently new to the hero scene, having just finished up as a sidekick about a year and a half ago, but you supposed your old teacher from UA had to have at least a little bit of confidence in you. If he didn’t, he would have expelled you before you had a chance to become a hero.
The sound of shattering glass and frustrated cursing brought you out of your thoughts. Below you, you watched as a man, cloaked in the shadows of the alley, glanced to either side of him, before crawling through the window he had just punched in.
As he finished climbing through the window, you focused on your quirk, using your shadow powers to jump between the shadow you were already hiding in, to one of the shadows near the window, and then from there to one within the store, not too far from the man you had been waiting for the whole night.
“I can’t tell if you’re not even trying anymore or if your just the lousiest thief I’ve ever come across,” you say, leaning against a jewelry case, just behind the black-haired man, “I honestly expected better than you, Dabi.”
He chuckled as he turned around, the kind of chuckle that reminds you of an old friend that had just played a prank on you. His lightning blue eyes met yours and he flashed you a smug grin, “How’d I know that the cute shadow-bender would be the one to meet me here?”
“Well, I suppose we’ve run into each other enough that you just know that I’m going to catch you by now. Though that does raise a whole other question.”
“What’s that, doll?”
“Why do you keep coming back here?”
He raised his eyebrows a bit, showing that he hadn’t expected you to ask that question. Which, if you were entirely honest, was odd, considering it seemed like he was able to predict every other decision you had made since you first met him.
“And here I was thinking you knew a thing or two about solving mysteries,” He joked. It wasn’t until that point that you had even thought about how neither of you had even attempted to attack each other. And yet, even then you couldn’t think to do anything about that at the moment.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m sure you can put it together if you use that pretty little head of yours, honey,” he takes a few steps towards you, though somehow, even then you don’t feel like he’s threatening you at all.
“Let me see,” You trail off a little as you think, spacing out for a moment as you remember your past few run-ins with the infamous villain in front of, “Oh.”
“You got it?”
“I think so.”
“Present your case, doll,” He says, leaning against the jewelry case just in front of you, “You’re cute when you start to ramble.”
You ignore that last comment as you start to list off the clues he had given you in the past few interactions you had, “You’re going easy on me. You haven’t tried to kill me since we first met, and for you, that’s probably the weirdest thing you could do.”
He quirks one of his eyebrows up.
“You haven’t killed anyone else in my area either. You’ve been keeping it to smaller crimes around here. Robberies or vandalism. You’re still making a scene, but with fewer bodies.”
“You think I’m just demoting myself to the status of petty criminal?”
“Of course not. You’re still involved with the League of Villains. If you just wanted to focus on robberies, you’d leave them behind,” At think point, you really were presenting a case, you felt like you were back in school, having a debate, “I think the biggest clue is that you shattered the window today. You could have easily melted it and made less noise, but you didn’t. You were trying to get caught. And, as you said, you knew I’d be the one to catch you.”
“Oh? And what conclusion are you drawing from this?” At this point, you finally noticed how close the two of you were standing now. You were close enough to touch him, and as much as you refused to admit it, some part of you wanted to.
“You want my attention. But what I can’t quite figure out is why. Are you just trying to play with me? Do you have some bigger plan here? I just can’t figure it out.”
As you started to ramble even more, getting confused by your own question, he rolled his eyes at you, before quickly closing the gap between the two of you, pulling you into a surprising and slightly rough kiss.
Before you even realized it, you were kissing back. You closed your eyes and leaned into it. You finally had to admit it as you stood in the pitch-black jewelry store, being pressed up against a glass case as you and a wanted murderer made out, you were way more interested in this villain than you should be.
He finally pulled away. You had been moved to be pushed up against the case you were leaned against, so now he was nearly pinning you down to the glass, “Do you think that answered your question enough?”
You paused, staring into his eyes, that honestly look as though someone had trapped his own flames in diamonds to make them, “Not in the least.”
He sighed, and rolled his eyes again, “You are hopeless.”
“I’m well aware.”
“We have to get out of here,” He said, pulling you back towards the window.
“You’re not even going to steal anything?”
“God damn it, (y/n)! I’m not here to steal anything, I’m here for you!”
“Why?”
“Because I,” He cut himself off, “Look, we’ll talk about this later.”
With that, he dragged you the rest of the way over to the window, before letting go of your wrist and motioning for you to make your way out of the building. You nodded, and shadow-jumped just into the alleyway. He quickly climbed through the window after you. Eventually, the two of you made it through the alleyway to a building that as far as you knew, had been abandoned for a while.
“You know,” You said as he led you into the building, “You sure are breaking and entering a lot today.”
“Just,” He sounded a lot more frustrated than you had expected, though you had a suspicion that it wasn’t directly aimed at you, “Please be quiet until we get inside. Then we can talk, ok?”
You nod, and the two of you finally make your way inside, stopping a room that seems to have been decked out to function as a temporary studio apartment. He finally let go of your wrist. “Why do you keep coming back?”
He turned to face you finally and ran a scarred hand through his hair. He looked into your eyes and stood there for another couple moments, seeming like he was trying to think of a good way to word whatever he was thinking before finally blurting out, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“What do you mean?” you ask cautiously, already pretty sure that you know the answer.
“God damn it, you are making this way harder than it has to be,” He mutters, “Everytime I see you, I can’t stop thinking about you until I see you again. Just go on one date with me so that at the least I can get you out of my head.”
You had to admit that you had been feeling a very similar way, though you never would have admitted it before. Every time you saw him, all you could think about in the next few days were his piercing blue eyes. Every night when you were falling asleep you couldn’t help but wonder what his scars would feel like under your fingertips.
“What do you say, hero? One date and I’ll leave this section of the city alone for good.”
You looked into his eyes again before pulling him into another rough kiss. This time he was the one surprised, pausing for a few seconds before kissing you back with just as much passion.
Eventually the two of you started moving. You weren’t entirely sure who initiated it, but soon enough you were pinned to the bed that was halfway across the room.
He pulled away, no longer looking frustrated and anxious, and instead looking entirely too proud of himself, “I’ll take that as a yes then, doll.”
124 notes · View notes
Text
Strange the Dreamer, post read thoughts.
I just finished it last night, and hoo boy was it a read. This is the first book I’ve read by Laini Taylor, and it’s got me wanting to read more. I’m starting Muse of Nightmares tonight or tomorrow, and maybe after that the Daughters of Smoke and Bone trilogy. Anyway, [spoilers probably]:
First off, I don’t care for fantasy. I tend to have little patience for made up words (yes, I know all words are made up, you know what I mean) and hyper detailed world building. I enjoy the fantastical, but fantasy as a genre generally bores me to tears. I don’t want to read about fake cultures when I could be learning about real ones. That’s personal taste, whatever. Taylor however, writes it almost exactly the way I want to read it. She dips occasionally into exposition dumps, but I find it nowhere near as tiresome as the typical Tolkienesque approach. Even then, I’m interested. She’s created such a wonderful world that I want to know whatever she’s going to give me, and uncovering some new detail feels like a treat, not a slog. My eyes still glaze over at all the made up words and politics, but everything else makes up for it.
What keeps this book interesting to me is definitely not the plot though. I have no major issues with it, it’s fine, whatever. But it falls into the category of legendary fantasy tale that generally I have no interest in. Hero’s journey and all that. I find it boring. Again, personal taste, whatever. I tend to enjoy character driven more than plot driven anyway, and this book is absolutely character driven. The story itself is so simple I might even go so far as to call it formulaic, but the people who carry it are something else. When their hearts break, so does yours. I won’t lie, she does go for some easy gut punches, but they do still feel earned and in their place. She’s not afraid to let you dislike her heroes. Except maybe Lazlo, I’ll talk more about him later (though I feel like the sequel may challenge him more). Most of the people that we grow to like are complicated. They’ve done terrible things, or harbor toxic beliefs, but they’re also justified to a certain extent. And to what extent that is, is left up to you.
She does kind of beat you over the head with her themes, but I mean, this is technically YA. It’s not terribly clumsy, you just find yourself wanting to go, “OK I get it! Move on!” every once in a while. But that’s a hard line to toe as a writer, and as far as shortcomings go, it’s really not that big of a deal. I’m willing to forgive it, anyway. Sometimes you can feel when the “correct” answer is coming through, usually because Lazlo is taking a hard line moral stance, but it never felt so overwhelming to me that it seemed like right and wrong were being truly dictated. It’s not perfect, and writers are allowed to have opinions, so eh.
In general, I’m a big fan of her writing style. I get the feeling the novelty would wear thin if I read all of her books back to back, so I won’t lmao, but from the one I’ve read I love it. She has issues with repetition to the point where it crosses from emphasis to unnecessary and redundant pretty often, but god I am a simp for flowery prose, so I will forgive it. If I had to describe the way she writes to someone who is deciding whether or not to read it, I’d say that she writes like those verbose, rich paragraphs you find on tumblr. You know, where someone has had a few nice sentences flow into their head, but they aren’t going to expand on it so they post it as is, without the context that might make it anything more than pretty words. (No shade, but... look they’re not exactly high art, ok?) Except that she’s actually written the book. And I find it a very pleasurable experience. Like I said, I am a simp for all things purple. If you’re not, you’ll probably hate it.
It can, at times, absolutely feel indulgent, but in a way the whole book is. I mean the fantastical elements of this story really go hard. She’s not really attempting realism here. Grounded (enough), sure, but definitely not realistic. And it’s fine by me. I’m willing to give a story a lot of passes if I feel like the writer has earned them in other ways. I don’t care if every little detail is what would really happen. Not at all, actually. If I wanted realism I’d go outside. I’m reading a book, not a newspaper.
One example is what I saw described as the “insta-love” between Lazlo and Sarai. Personally, I had no issues with it. It felt earned and in place in the context of the story. It makes sense for the two characters, both of whom are young and have felt painfully isolated for their entire lives. And then in walks someone with a mutual attraction, who can interact with them and appreciate them in a way no one else ever has. Yeah of course they fall in love. Even if the relationship wouldn’t have worked out long term, it makes total sense that one would have started. And as for how quickly it happened, eh. They literally met in a dream, what do you want?
There are plenty of other crimes that I’m sure I would defend, but here’s one I won’t. Thyon Nero. He is so criminally underutilized in this story, I question his place in it at all. Which is a goddamn shame because I love me a petty bitch like Thyon. It feels like he’s all wasted potential. In a sea of interesting, well drawn characters, he’s flat as Saskatchewan. Unforgivable. If it had been another character, fine. But Thyon? Come on! We spend enough time with him that he should feel more interesting, but he just doesn’t. There’s an attempt to give him a tragic backstory and whatever, but it’s so cliche (rich pretty boy with an abusive family behind the scenes controlling him and making him feel like a pawn in their game. Snarky on the outside, hurting on the inside, blah blah you’ve heard it a million times.) that I need more! You can’t just give me a scene of him getting whipped by his shitty dad, toss off a sentence about him wanting to free from his family’s exploitation, and then dust your hands and call it a day. UGH. He honestly serves as little more than an occasionally funny, almost interesting character foil for Lazlo. He exists to show you what a good boy Lazlo is. And that’s it. They aren’t even proper enemies. How much they dislike each other in any given scene is directly inverse to how much the plot needs them to get along in that moment. Before they’ve even reached the city Thyon is little more than a mild inconvenience. So why set him up as this scary antagonist??? I’m really hoping the second expands on him. I need more. You cannot dangle a funny bitch like him in front of my face and then do nothing with him! RUDE.
Ok, now Lazlo, I said I’d talk about him. Here we are. Lazlo Lazlo Lazlo. First of all, hate his name. That’s a nothing issue, I just had to say it. Second, he’s kinda lame, huh? I wouldn’t say that he’s underdeveloped, I feel like I have a much better idea of who he is than I do Thyon, it’s just that his development isn’t that interesting. He very much feels like a protagonistTM. He’s passionate and funny, driven and like... always in the right on moral issues. He’s the immediately accepted outsider who’s also able to bring a new, but more importantly, morally correct perspective on their issues. He’s charming, but humble, shy but not enough to actually impede social interaction. I don’t hate him, I’d probably hang out with him if I was on that journey (assuming I wasn’t following Thyon around like the simp I am). He’s just that kind of perfectly imperfect character. His flaws only make him more likeable, he’s never outright wrong about anything. I’ll say it, Lazlo is a Mary Sue.
Lazlo is a Mary Sue and Thyon was wasted on his basic ass. And that’s that on that.
I will let that (correct) declaration wrap this up. It’s way too long already. Thank god not a single person on earth reads these. Small miracles.
6 notes · View notes