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dinner-djarin · 3 years

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dar'manda (Mando x f!reader)

Chapter 1: The Only Way Out is Through

Summary: Things have been quiet since The Mandalorian's disappearing act on Nevarro. However, things change quickly at his sudden return, and the changes are sure to impact your own life. That is, if you don't screw it up for yourself.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, yearning/awkward flirting/reader doesn’t know how to act around Mando, Cara Dune lol (I feel like she needs a warning)

Word Count: 3.8k

Prologue - Next

In the weeks that the Mandalorian had been gone, things on Nevarro had taken a turn for the worse. Ever since making his grand escape, remaining Imperial officers seemed to get word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter gone rogue. He took some sort of “package” right out of their hands, and they really didn’t like that. So, they sent out every bounty hunter idiotic enough to go after a Mandalorian. And to double their efforts, they effectively made Nevarro their new base.

Well, that probably wasn’t exactly accurate, but either way it seemed like every stormtrooper left was sent to keep watch in case their prize ever returned.

You could not imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to come back to the place where they so flagrantly disregarded every rule of the Guild, and yet – there he was. Walking into town at the side of his...former boss. As he approached however, you noticed he probably wasn't there by choice. His hands were bound in front of him, and a muscley looking woman, with a very large gun, was not too far behind them. Well then, you think to yourself, I guess no one crosses the Guild, not even Mando.

Just as they enter town you being to consider the precarity of your own situation. With the town being occupied by stormtroopers, times are tough. Curfews have been put in place and wandering through town is highly discouraged. The marketplace has turned into a ghost town as people have become less and less inclined to spend time outside of their homes. They might come by for the basics, but business is definitely not what it used to be. So, you often find yourself with “free time” – moments you should realistically be working – where you instead spy on the invaders who have ruined your already unpleasant life. Basically, the exact thing you were doing in that very moment.

It's a matter of fate that he showed up just as you made your way to the town entrance. Even more so when you overhear a conversation between the Guild leader and the Mandalorians captor.

“Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse” you hear the Guild leader say.

“Slip him his blaster” whispers the woman. These words bring you utter confusion. Did she mean slip Mando his blaster?

“Not yet,” he says under his breath.

And suddenly you are more confused than before. Why would she say something like that? How did any of this make sense? You’re thankful you were not seen as they pass by you, but you think you perceive a subtle change in the reflection from the shiny metal helmet that your eyes have been locked on to. His gaze fell to the metal orb that was trailing the trio through the city centre. When he looked back up however, he did not return his gaze to the direction he had been looking previously. Now you think, and you know it’s completely self-centred of you to do so, but you feel like he is staring straight at you. You don't think he would be able to see into the shadows that were providing your cover, but something about the angle of his visor as he walks by sends a shiver down your spine.

The three of them and the metal orb enter the cantina and you adjust your position in attempt for a better view. Only a few minutes later does a blaster shot eviscerate the long transparisteel window on the front wall of the building, allowing you a glimpse of the chaos inside. A plethora of various blaster bolts ricochet through the building, evidence that the situation was drastically more complicated than you initially observed. However, the next events prove that things could still get worse for the group inside.

From the safety of your hiding spot, you see the scene unfold. The entire courtyard of the village is filled with stormtroopers in seconds, and then you hear it. The unmistakable screech that has haunted you since you were young. A sound that would forever be branded into your head, as it signaled the end of your childhood. The last time you heard that sound was the last time you saw your father and brother.

The Tie Fighter lands right in front of the cantina, completely blocking your view of any further events. You take that as your sign to get the hell out of there, knowing the level of destruction that is sure to follow. Even with the high amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you manage to keep a level head and find your way back to the marketplace, where most other citizens are gathered.

You quickly alert everyone to the impending danger nearby, and although some are slow to react, they begin to gather their belongings and search for safety.

Luckily, you recall a nearby alley that would lead to the part of town furthest away from the calamity, and you tell them all to make their way there immediately. Once you were sure that no one was left behind you head towards the alley only for an explosion to go off somewhere near the cantina. And although the source of the blast is far enough away not to injure you, the shockwave ripples through a one of the buildings, whose integrity was already questionable, causing it to crumble and block your previously secure exit route. With your mind in panic mode, you glance over to a spot which had caught your eye a hundred times before, a spot you kept noticing the Mandalorian disappear to.

You quickly run for cover hoping no other buildings decide to fall apart in the meantime, and you find the passageway was actually concealing a staircase which led to the sewers. Unsure of where to go next, your adrenaline high mind keeps you moving fast, taking random turns, having no understanding of where the tunnels lead to and where the safest exit may be. It wasn't until you rapidly took a corner and ran straight into an armoured chest plate that your mind stopped running wild.

A few second too late you realize it wasn’t the armour you would have hoped to see. The Mandalorians captor stands in front of you, with a package wrapped in her arms. Beside her is the Guild leader. You stand there dumbstruck and panting, unsure of what move to make.

The Guild leader approaches you, but you recoil, stepping back.

“What did you do to him?” is all you can think to growl at them.

“He’s just sleeping.” She attempts to assure you, “Wait how do you know the kid?” the woman asks, evidently confused by your accusation.

“What kid? No, the Mandalorian. You captured him. I saw you two walk in to town with him handcuffed”

“Young lady, I think you are confused. Please allow me to explain our situation.” the leader states, taking another step closer to you. This time you stand your ground, making clear you want answers.

He explains his name is Greef Karga, and the woman is Cara Dune, an ex-rebel shock trooper. And despite walking into town with Mando handcuffed by their sides, they were actually all in on the plan together. However, it seems that once they got inside things went south, a habit Mando seemed to be making for himself. It turns out that this elaborate scheme was set in place in an attempt to save a tiny green baby from the Empire, which now rests in the woman’s – Cara’s – arms.

You have no idea what to think. There's no way any of this can be true. Although, you then recall the conversation you overheard as they entered the town, and everything else seems to line up with your own experiences of the past hour.

You also realize that the Child must be the reason Mando went rogue in the first place. And after sneaking a peak at his resting wrinkly face, you completely understand why. After only one look, you’d probably jump in front of speeder for that little guy.

But before you can make up your mind on whether to believe Karga or not, Mando rounds the corner being supported by a very tall, very thin droid that you recognize to be an IG unit. As they approach, Cara hands off the baby to the droid and attempts to support Mando, and for some maker-forsaken reason you decide to help too. As you slide your arm under Mando’s shoulder and rest your hand on his back you feel him tense – you know you’ve made a mistake. But it’s too late to turn back now, so you carry some of his weight and continue on down the ominous path. The only way out, is through.

Your mind is running at 100 parsecs per hour. This is the closest, physically, you’ve been to anyone in years, and if that weren't enough you seem to be in the middle of both your wildest dream and worst nightmare. You can’t remember the last time you were tucked under someone's arm, and pressed up against them so tightly, if you ever were. And in your panicked state you start to realize you’ve basically been holding your breath this whole time, making your heart beat erratically and your head throb. But just as you think you might pass out from your stupidity, the Mandalorians voice shakes you back to reality.

“Stop.” His word sends you into a new panic. Were you thinking out loud? Could he read your heartbeat through his helmet? Did he know what a complete mess you were at his touch? “I can stand,” he says, finishing his thought.

Oh thank the gods.

He lets go of you and switches something in his helmet to look for tracks, and you allow yourself to finally take a deep breath.

“We’re close,” he states. After a moment of stabilizing your heartbeat and focussing on your breath900, you quicken your pace, subtly placing yourself just behind Mando’s left shoulder as he leads the group through the tunnel. You’re close enough to catch when he mumbles, “I know you.”

“And I know you,” you respond playfully, disregarding the severity of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You’re not quite sure how Mando’s mere presence can affect you so brutally, to the point of forgetting how to act like a normal human being.

“From the market.” He doesn’t ask.

“That’s me, good to see you in one piece. I was worried when I heard about the stunt you pulled. Crossing the guild...not sure I've ever heard of anyone getting away with that.” Oh man why are you talking so much. You just need to shut up now. Literally no one wants to hear-

“Worried?” a hint of genuine curiosity hidden in his question. Well of course he found the one word in your entire sentence that incriminates you. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your crush now.

“Umm well of course, I think everyone was. It’s all anyone could talk about for weeks. Nothing that exciting has happened around here in a while,” you quickly blurt out. He turns his head for a moment and examines you.

He is silent, evidently noticing the way you awkwardly avoided his question. You stare at him trying with every muscle in your face to remain composed. You know he sees right through you – must be that bullshit reader – but you think if you maintain eye contact long enough, he’ll just move on from your stupidity. And he does.

“How did you get here?” He returns to his task of following footprints. The question and abrupt change in topic jars you, although if you had to guess, you think he must have picked up on your complete awkwardness, possibly confusing it for suspicious behaviour. You hope he doesn’t think you untrustworthy because if it.

“There were explosions, and I tried to help everyone out, but the path became blocked and the only way out was some curtain hiding a staircase.” Your explanation, you realize, now sounds completely ridiculous, especially in the flustered manner you are depicting it in. Even so, you continue, “I went to hide but it turns out it led straight down here. So, I tried to find an exit, but I bumped into them instead,” you finish, glancing behind you towards Cara and Karga.

“If you came in from the market you should have passed the covert,” Mando stated almost accusingly, increasing your worry over whether he thought trusted your story.

“I’m not sure I didn’t really see any-” but his question is immediately answered by the pile of discarded Mandalorian armour in front of you.

The Mandalorian stops, and you can see just how suddenly his body language changed. Even injured, he looked deadly as he led you through the tunnels, but at the sight of the remnants of his clan, he is weak. You can feel the sadness, remorse, and pain emanating from him all at once. And as you stand beside him you barely realize you’ve gently reached for his hand, gripping it tight and squeezing it to convey your condolence for his immense loss.

But after a moment, he moved forward and away from your grasp to kneel at the sight of his fallen brethren. Cara suggests the group leave, but he won’t. He will not leave the armour in its discarded state.

Suddenly, the mood shifts, and you see the Mandalorian transform before your eyes. He storms towards Karga, accusing that he and the Guild members must be responsible. Karga denies, but you think Mando might be on the verge of strangling him when suddenly another modulated voice fills the tunnel.

A golden warrior stands before you. Her presence shocks you. It reveals some element rooted deep, a feeling you can only describe as warm… or familiar? She explains, as she gathers the scattered armour, how revealing the covert brought the presence of Imperials. When Mando offers her to join him, she rejects, maintaining that her place is to gather the remains of her people.

You all follow her into a small room with a forge in the centre of it. “Show me the one who’s safety deemed such destruction,” she demands.

“This is the one,” Mando responds. Gesturing to the baby that was wrapped tight to the IG unit’s chest.

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?” she asks.

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” And with that statement you find both an answer, and more questions. That baby saved him? How the-

“From the mudhorn?” she asks.

“Yes.” he responds, making you even more confused than ever. The baby saved him from a mudhorn?

“It looks helpless” she states.

“It’s injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind.” As if this conversation could get any weirder. Move objects...with its MIND.

The Armourer begins to detail battles between Mandalore the Great and some species of wizards; the species this child belongs to. She also tells Mando that he is now responsible for the baby – his foundling. And finally, she tasks him with finding these sorcerers and returning the baby to them. When Mando questions the outrageous turn of events the woman has only four words in response:

“This is the Way.” Suddenly that warm comfort you felt before resurges, but only for a moment, as Cara reminds the group of the urgency of their situation. You need to find a way out before Imperials catch your tracks. The Armourer then suggests the group find a river of lava that will lead all of you out of the tunnels. Right…

River of lava, or Imperial Troopers. What the heck did you get yourself into? Either way it seems you don’t have much of a choice. After receiving a mudhorn signet on his pauldron, the Armourer pronounces that he and the child are bound as father and son; a clan of two. Cute little family they’ll make. When the droid gets ready to defend the group from incoming Imps, it hands Cara the child who looks very uncomfortable with it, so she passes him to you.

Stunned and confused you look to the Mandalorian who shows no sign of discomfort with you holding his now adopted son, not that you’d probably be able to tell. Either way, it seems you’ve acquired a new responsibility.

Blaster fire rings just outside the room as the woman hands Mando some flying contraption, and your group decides you might need to get a move on.

You approach the lava river, only to notice the boat has melted to the docking point. Karga and Mando struggle to free it, but Cara just gives you a smug look. “You boys mind getting out of the way?” she warns only to blast the points where the boat was attached, successfully freeing it from its molten chains.

The boat quickly begins to drift from the dock, but just as you start to lift your foot over the edge to make your way inside, you feel a strong hand against your lower back, guiding you the rest of the way. Once you steady yourself on the boat you glance up at the visor which is pinned straight ahead, unwavering and unwilling to meet your gaze. His seemingly disinterested reaction makes you anxious to know the true intention of his touch. He must just realize your safety is attached to the bundle you are currently cradling against your chest. Obviously, he is only looking out for the child, you just happen to be the person responsible for his transportation. If Cara were the one holding his son, he’d probably be helping her instead. Right? Simple as that.

Even so, you can't help but notice the way his hand flexes after it returns to his side.

For just a moment your mind slips, and you let yourself think that there might be something there. That the short conversations and fleeting looks shared all those weeks ago might have held more weight than you believed. That when you were admiring his head-to-toe armor upgrade, he may have been examining you back. That he might have actually liked the fact that you worried about him in his absence. You allow yourself to think that underneath that metal, stands a man who might be gentle, and kind. A man who helps you into a boat when he himself is injured. One who is willing to leave behind everything he knows in order to ensure the security of a child.

You snap back to reality, however, when Karga notices the light at the end of the tunnel. But just when you think that your journey is almost over, Mando informs you otherwise. A battalion of stormtroopers line the edges of your only exit route. No one in your group can come up with any satisfactory solution, until the IG unit comes forward.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate them, and you will escape.”

Mando is quick to point out that the droid would never make it past the troopers, but the droid insists. Apparently, his manufacturer's protocol dictates that he cannot be captured and must self-destruct. He asks that Mando look over the Child once he is gone, and you swear you can hear a hint of sadness through his filtered voice. Your hypothesis is confirmed by the IG unit, and your heart warms slightly for the metal man. The droid reaches over to say goodbye to the child for the last time, patting him gently on the head, then steps into the lava river and heads down towards the mouth of the cave. You all stare silently as you watch him approach the troopers when suddenly-

Fire consumes your vision, and it overwhelms your senses. Not having actually seen an explosion in your life you seem to be the only one on the boat who is at all fazed by the sudden wall of heat and deafening boom created by IG-11’s sacrifice. In the process you cover the child with your body and wince back into the hard wall behind you. Cradling the child and shielding yourself, you almost don’t notice when the wall grabs your hip and steadies you in front of it.

Suddenly, you’re flushed with embarrassment, realizing all at once the wall was the Mandalorian and both of his hands were still gripped onto you, holding you tight against his chest plate.

But your shock only lasts a moment before the unsettling screech of a Tie Fighter pierced your ears for the second time that day. And before you could process, the Mandalorian was using his body as a shield, protecting you and the child from the blasts, and simultaneously shooting at the new threat barreling towards your group.

Will this day ever end, is the only thought in your head before Mando is flying through the air using the jetpack given to him by the Armourer only minutes ago. However, you distinctly remember her saying he would need time to get used to it before it would ‘listen to his commands’. Nevertheless, he jerks through the sky in a desperate attempt to bring the Tie down.

You watch as one of the wings are ripped off by an explosion and the tie crashes to the ground. The Mandalorian lets go just in time and falls quickly towards the ground, igniting his jetpack at the last second to make a rough landing right in front of you.

The child squirms in your arms at the first sign of peace so you set him down gently. He awkwardly runs over to Mando and hugs his leg, creating possibly the cutest sight you had ever seen. Again, your heart can’t help but melt for the new little family, and you wonder how these two are going to get by. A child with magical powers, and a father who’s built to kill. Not a pairing you would bet on.

Cara and Karga then try to convince Mando to stay on Nevarro and help the both of them sort out the aftermath of today's events. But the Mandalorian insists on sticking to his mission. The child is now his first priority and finding a group of near-extinct ancient sorcerers does not sound like easy work.

“We have a long road ahead of us, but the journey is necessary. I must return him to his kind, no matter how long it takes.” You hear him reason with the pair, refusing their kind offers to remain on the planet with them.

If you know one thing about the Mandalorian it's that everything he does is completely intentional. No one could force Mando into something he doesn’t want to do. If he is sure of this path, he will follow it through till the end.

And from your short interactions, you know he spends time forming his thoughts in order to get his point across. Each sentence is carefully crafted so that they are clear and concise. You know he means every word.

Maybe that's why the next words out of his mouth come as a complete shock to you.

“Would you like to join us?” he asks directly to you.

What the kriffing heck did he just say? You're so taken aback that you embarrassingly bark out your response, your brain evidently getting no time to process the question, so instead if vomits out the first word it can think of: “No”.

You follow it with polite ‘thank you’s’, hoping to erase the awkward tension in the air, and the Mandalorian jetpacks off with the child leaving you to dwell on your utter stupidity.

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Chapter 2

Notes: Honestly, I hate this chapter too wow. I really spent so long trying to edit this into something I could bare to publish, but I still really hate it. I did not want to write a chapter like this, but I also needed a way to put the reader into the story and the only way I could think to do that was by using an existing episode. So here we are. But I SWEAR, after this it gets good. Like not only does the story get good, but so does my own writing (relatively) so if you just bare through this, I think you’ll enjoy the rest.

Taglist: @peppywitch @tobealostwanderer @thecraftyartist

If you wanna be included in the tag list let me know! The next parts are gonna get great. I hope

#mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mandalorian fanfic #mando fanfiction #pedro pascal #mando #din #the mandalorian season 1 #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

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Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Parker Holland x Charlotte Owens

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Death, Fighting

-Words: 3.6K

Author note: I really love this chapter. I love all the comments and would appreciate nice constructive criticism (please don't butcher my work lol) if you want. Feel free to leave in the comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter :))

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Word: 3.6K

“Haz are you okay mate?” Tom asked, seeing Haz freak out, they were about to land at Heathrow, on their way back from Dublin.

“No, I just heard from my neighbor that Henry never came home last night. With everything that happened yesterday, I’m just worried. I hope he is not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Harrison explained.

“He probably crashed at ours, everything will be ok.” You said as you comforted Haz. Oh boy, were you wrong.

Back at home, Parker awoke to his impending death once you and Tom, his parents’, find out what happened to their beautiful mansion. One party did all this damage. The curtains were torn down, there was red party cups everywhere and all the liquor bottles were displayed on the table. One amazingly epic party did all that.

“Bloody hell! That’s it I’m dead. I’m dead. I will never be allowed to leave this house ever again.” Parker said to himself. Picking up his phone he noticed 4 missed calls from you. Each one had a message and if there was one thing he knew about you is that you only left more harsh and frantic voice messages the more you called.

He only played the most recent one, you sounded really peeved “PARKER JACKSON HOLLAND! Please call me, I’m worried about you. I can’t get in touch with the staff either. I will be home in 20 mins, you better have a good fucking explanation for everything.” Parker’s eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw that was sent 15 mins ago. Any moment now he would hear the Rolls pulling into the driveway.

The poor kid could only move so fast, he quickly gathered the liquor bottles and threw them into a plastic trash bag along with all the red solo cups that seem to be multiplying. All the meanwhile corralling all the squatters, from last night, who crashed there. He found some people by the pool and others passed out in the dining room. Running like a madman through the house, he caught a glimpse of what would be the reason for his demise. The door to Tom’s office was open. He swore to god he locked it, someone must’ve broken in. They could’ve taken anything, all the information about the mob was stored in that one tastefully decorated room. Parker quickly shut the door and hoped nothing would happen, he couldn’t live with himself if this one stupid party cost his family their livelihood.

“Rosie? Henry? Where are you guys? Mum and dad will be home any minute, I need your help.” Parker called out throughout the house. He didn’t expect Rosie to show up because of their fight last night, but where the fuck was Henry.

You and Tom pulled up along with Harrison in the black Rolls Royce, coming to a screeching halt. You all walked along the cobble stone path to the two large, intimidating front doors. You all simultaneously freaked out when you saw the door was ajar. Tom and Haz pulled out their guns and made it a priority to keep you safe by shoving you behind them. You all had no idea what you could be walking into.

Tom whispered to Haz to split up, Haz took the East Wing while Tom checked the main rooms. Rounding the corner he could her footsteps.

“Darling, stay behind me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom whispered and you nodded in response.

“On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3,” Tom screamed as he jumped out, holding his gun straight ahead. He found his son disheveled, carrying grocery bags filled with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

“DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT! Holy fuck! Dad is that you?” Parker screamed, dropping the bags to the ground, glass shattering and raising his hand up in innocence. Scared for his life her quickly caught his breath when he realized who it was.

“Parker, what the hell? Why the fuck was the door opened…. wait? Did you have a party!?!” Tom thundered as he realized what his son did. His voice gradually growing more furious. Parker just stood there with a shameful look on his face.

“Mum, dad. How was Dublin?” Parker sneaked to quickly change the subject.

“Don’t try to get out this, explain now!” You scolded, just as furious as Tom

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it, I just needed to blow off steam.” “What the fuck do you think a sorry is going to do? I run a fucking mob, Parker. Are you a fucking idiot? Parker, for fucks sake, anyone could have stolen some information from my office or gotten into the gun room. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not that much of a div, I locked your office and I don’t know,” Parker explained.

“You’re not as dumb as I thought. Hope you were smart enough to lock the liquor cellar too,” Tom concluded.

“Yeah…about that,” Parker mumbled as Tom ran off to his liquor room. A loud clash and curse sounded throughout the house when he laid his eyes on his ransacked priceless collection.

“Mum, say something?” Parker pleaded with you as you just stood there in silence.

“2 months. You’re grounded for 2 months. No dates or parties, just school and home. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are that nothing serious happened here.” You said, your voice drenched with disappointment. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what dad and you asked me and —” Parker whispered as he was soon cut off by Haz walking in.

“Did you find Henry?” Haz interrupted.

“No, I’m going to check upstairs. Will you check on Tom?” Harrison nodded as you ascended the staircase. Making your way through the halls, coming upon Rosie’s room.

“Roo, honey you awake?” You said walking into Rosie’s room

“AHHHH! Oh my fucking god! Rosie!” You screamed at the sight in front of you. Your sweet, slightly bad tempered daughter asleep with a boy in her bed.

“Darling? You alright?” Tom yelled from downstairs after hearing your scream.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Rosie exclaimed frantically.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henry whispered, praying he wasn’t going to be berated. You were a mother figure to him after his own mother left his father and never looked back. “This is my house and hi Henry. What the fuck is Henry doing here in you bed? What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned bouncing between the two of them to get some answers.

“I can explain. But, firstly are you gonna tell dad?” Rosie inquired.

“The fact that he is already fuming downstairs, no. Not right now. And please explain, you have 5 seconds, but first you need to get Henry out of here.”

“Thank you mom, I just don’t —.“

“Ehh, eh, eh! Shut it, I’ll deal with you later,” you barked.

“Henry, I suggest you take the window and your dad is looking for you,” you said.

“Shit! Thanks Y/N… I mean Mrs. Holland” Henry said as you shot him a glare.

The moment Henry was in the clear, Tom barged in with his gun in hand. Someone needs to tell this man to put it down. All morning he has been traumatically scarring his kids for life, first with Parker and now Rosie.

“What? Is everyone all right? I heard a scream.” Tom exclaimed out of breath.

“Umm, yeah. I just saw a spider.” You stuttered.

“Oh love, you can kill a man in cold blood but can’t handle an itty bitty spider,” Tom joked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“You're afraid of them too, Thomas.” You quipped with a side eye. If looks could kill, yours definitely would.

“And for you missy, you’re grounded along with your brother.” Tom said, looking down on Rosie. “Me? What did I do?” Rosie asked in a high pitched voice. “You attended this party correct? And since this is also your house, you threw it by association. Am I right?” Tom inquired.

“I guess so,” Rosie huffed.

The twin’s exile was worse than they prepared for. Not only were they responsible for cleaning up the entire mess but they were given a list of chores to complete. This was no ordinary list. It was devised by you and Tom along with inputs from the maids and capos.

On it read:

Wash the Rolls

Clean the guns

Reorganize the pantry

Mow the lawn

Re-order all stolen liquor and stock the liquor room

Drain the pool, clean the pool, fill the pool back up again…

The list was never-ending. Each task more pointless than the next. It went on forever. The household staff was happy for their load was to be lessen for a couple weeks, unlike the kids. Harrison even forced Henry to partake in the chores.

The kids were only a couple days into their quarantine and were already going stir crazy. Parker was having withdrawals from Charlotte, missing her even more. The boy was whipped for her, really smitten. They would talk the night away. Some nights never getting any shut eye as their conversations would prolong hours.

Parker couldn’t believe this was where he was now. One night of unadulterated juvenile fun equated to 2 months of misery. Today was Charlotte’s birthday and he was supposed to take her to the London Eye on a surprise birthday trip, but all his plans were ruined the moment his parents came home and grounded his sorry ass.

“I can’t believe your parents grounded you. Assholes.” Charlotte said over the phone, fuming he couldn’t celebrate with her.

“I can’t go babe. I really wish I could but I’m grounded for life remember.” Parker said, the cold shoulder Tom and you had been giving him was killing him.

“Parker its my birthday. You have to come,” Charlotte pleaded

“There’s no chance in hell I’m allowed to leave.”

“Geez you just threw a party, it’s not like you killed someone,” Charlotte added. He might as well have. If he killed someone he wouldn’t be burdened with this punishment, probably praised instead, carrying on the family tradition.

“Just sneak out. Come on, we are all going to this nightclub downtown. It’s gonna be awesome. And I’m such a good girlfriend, I can’t let you miss it.” Charlotte pleaded.

“Alright, Char you wore me down.”

“I knew it. Pick you up at 11 tonight.”

“Park around the block, I’m going to have to climb out my window. Remember my house is like a fortress.” Parker said. He wasn’t lying.

Meanwhile, Tom was in and out of meetings in his office all day. He received one odd phone call in particular from his dad, Dominic Holland. “Hi dad, how are you” Tom said as he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine son, so how did the talk with Parker go. I’m excited to teach him all my mobster tricks,” Dom exclaimed. “Actually dad, he reacted like I did.”

“Oh well, he will come around just like you did” Dom said encouragingly.

“I don’t know if he will. Anyway it wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own path in life.” Tom murmured trying to stick up for his son’s decision.

“Tom, you know what will happen to this family if that happens,” Dom yelled.

“I know dad. I just don’t want him to feel trapped, like you did to me,” Tom exclaimed growing more annoyed by the minute.

“What I did to you got you to where you are today. Your life is thanks to me son and don’t you forget it,” Dom said with a stern, menacing voice.

“Understood sir,” Tom quipped. “Maybe Parker needs a push, in the right direction.” “Dad, I swear to god, don’t fucking do anything. Y/N and I are handling this” Tom yelled. “We’ll see how that turns out” Dom ended the phone call. Leaving Tom frustrated that his father sees him as his own puppet.

The night soon fell and Parker’s plan had been put into motion. He bribed a few of the Tom’s men with his allowance to let him sneak past. He jumped out the window, carefully walked on the roof as to not slip and make any noise. Finally on the ground, he scaled the iron fence to be met with Charlotte’s ice blue eyes. She was dressed in a pink party dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

“Wow princess, you look *chef’s kiss. Happy birthday baby,” Parker said while making his way back to the ground.

“Thanks doll. Now come on, before someone catches us,” she yelled whilst hopping into her silver Mercedes.

Arriving at the nightclub, everything was in full swing for 11 o’clock at night. Parker, Charlotte and her other friends were treated like royalty the moment Parker let his name slip.

“Right this way Mr. Holland and I will have someone bring you a bottle of champagne, on the house of course,” the hostess said as she sat them at their table.

“Oooo fancy, you should drop your name more often,” Charlotte whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Oh it was nothing, love.” Parker said while pouring himself and Charlotte a glass of bubbly. “Seriously Parker, how’d you do this? If I didn’t know any better I’d say your dad owned the club or something,” Charlotte said dumbfounded, causing Parker to choke on his champagne at her remark.

It was amazing what power could do. Having enough power to make your enemies disappear was unimaginable. Parker knew what turning down his father meant. He would have the name and the look of a Holland, but he wouldn’t be one anymore.

How could he give all that up. He enjoyed his cushy lifestyle. Sure it was day after day of worrying about your image but, he felt as though he belonged in that world. How could he go on being a kid for two more years knowing there was a metaphorical expiration date on his life.

He desperately wanted to want to be like them, his family. You, his mother, are the strongest person he knows. Having you in his life keeps him grounded, literally at the moment. Also his dad, Tom is a very loving and amazing father. He was there at all the football games (English football) cheering him on and at the spelling bees, also when he felt his first heartbreak, Tom was there.

Family has been the one constant in his life. Now it was being eclipsed by power, a power that could ruin lives or affect change. Turning his back on his family means they would never get see his future.

No one would be there at his graduation from college or when he first child was born, only Charlotte would be there. The girl he hoped to marry and have his kids. He couldn’t give up his future with her, no way. Parker eyes glanced at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He thought to himself, “This was it. This, she is all I’ll ever need, my princess.”

Most of Parker’s pet names for Charlotte were derived from Tom. He had heard his dad refer to his mother as: princess, queen, doll, darling, love. The list goes on. As long as Parker had his princess he knew he would be ok.

They danced the night away. Song after song. Feeling like the only two people in the room. Getting more drunk as the night progressed and other guests started to fizzle out. Leaving Charlotte and Parker alone on the dance floor.

“Char, I think it’s about time we head home. We are the only people left,”

Parker chuckled.

“Just two more songs please,” she muttered with her head nuzzled by his neck.

“It’s two hours til sunrise!” Parker exclaimed.

“Just a little while longer, I don’t want this moment to end.” “Me neither baby, I want to stay in your arms forever” Parker said. In a moment of love, coupled with champagne and a few tequila shots, Parker whispered, “We should get married.”

“What? Are you serious? Do you mean now or in like 5 years?” Charlotte asked as her voice slowly diminished

“Umm… yes and now. I love you,” Parker murmured. “YES! I will marry you!” Charlotte exclaimed pulling her boyfriend into a deep, passionate kiss. Parker’s dream was coming true and all he had to do was leave his family.

Just then a group of tall, stocky men, all dressed in black, funneled through the door of the club. They didn’t bother with sitting down, they just stood there blocking the only exit.

One of the men spoke up, “Parker Holland? I have a message for you.”

“Can’t it wait til morning, just tell him I’m sorry and he can ground me even longer,” Parker replied thinking the message was from Tom.

“It’s not that kind of message,” all the noise drifted away as the other man drew his gun. Both Charlotte and Parker grew tense at the sight of his pistol.

“Charlotte, get behind me,” Parker whispered, scared for both their lives.

“Boy, it’s not from your daddy,” said the leader of the men. “Do you know who my father is? He will have all of your heads if you so as much lay a finger on me,” Parker responded

“So the girl is up for grabs?” “Charlotte, RUN!” Parker Screamed

“Eh, not so fast. I’m going to enjoy this one.” The guy said, seizing Charlotte in his grip and motioning for this associates to grab Parker. Two arms holding Parker back from protecting Charlotte.

“LET GO OF ME! CHARLOTTE!”

“Why you hanging out this rift raft? I’m sorry but he needs to atone for his mistakes.” “Parker..” Charlotte whimpered.

“Such a pretty girl and such a waste” the man snickered as he pressed the gun into her abdomen. Tears slipped down her face as she felt the cool metal against her.

BANG

It was the shot heard round the room. Everything stood quiet as Charlotte collapsed to the floor. The leader of the men shouted he need a drink. “NOOOOO! ” Parker screamed as he was let go and raced to Charlotte’s side

“Hey, hey, baby look at me. Look at me,” Parker said as tears flooded down his face.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left.” Charlotte whispered with labored breaths while blood poured out of her wound. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Parker cried while rubbing his thumb on her cheek. Blood pooled around them and he could only be focused on one thing, the love of his life dying in his arms. “Parker, it hurts so much,” Charlotte cried. The pain was mind-numbing. Threatening the life inside her.

“I know, love. Just keep your eyes on me love, keep’em open”

“I’m so tired Parker… I want my last words to you to be I love you. I love you ok? So much.” she whispered, then broke into a coughing fit. Blood filling her mouth and running down her chin, scaring Parker.

“Don’t, don’t fucking start that now you, hear me. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna get married and have kids and grow old together,” Parker exclaimed as her eyes threatened to shut.

“You said yes, Char. You have to be okay. You said yes. I asked you to marry me and you said yes.” Parker cried as tears refused to stop coming. Charlotte’s eyes growing more and more to a close.

“Please, don’t leave me baby. Charlotte don’t leave me. Don’t fucking close your eyes. You hear me. Don’t.” And with that, the hand Parker held so close to his heart was limp. Her eyes had closed and heart stopped beating. She was gone.

“No! No, no no, hey hey hey, come on, come on baby stay with me. Stay with me please.”

“Wake up, darling. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just come back to me baby. , I need you,” Parker whimpered. He burst into a fit of sobs and hugged her close to his body, not wanting to let her go because then it all became real.

The woman who changed his life, no longer walked this earth. The love of his life was gone. All the bubbling life inside of her, vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Parker’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His sadness became infused with anger, he was out for blood.

“You bastards! Why did you do that? She had nothing to do with this?” Parker thundered as blood coated his knuckles. “I’m sorry kid, but it had to be done” The leader spoke.

In a fit of rage, Parker grabbed the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over one of the guy’s heads, knocking the muscular guy unconscious.

“Big mistake, kid. Thought you were smarter than that.” The leader said as he stood in front of Parker and delivered him a swift punch to the jaw, flooring Parker.

“She really wasn’t enough of a message? Want her death to be in vain?” He spat as he kicked Parker in the stomach.

Several kicks followed, two more to the stomach, one to the groin and one final blow to the head, demobilizing Parker. He laid on the ground coughing up blood, trying to gather enough strength to get home.

He looked once more over to the girl he had loved, lifeless with a whole in stomach, knowing if it weren’t for him she would still be alive. Charlotte was the only thing on his mind as he succumbed to all the pain and everything faded to darkness.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Dad!Mob!Tom Holland #Mob!Tom #mobster #Mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x reader

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x03-- And the court had a clerk...

Hello again! It’s nice to have this show back. This episode was a bit less of a standout than the previous two, but I’m still happy with the overall direction for this season. More under the cut (or here, because tumblr sucks).

When Robert King tweeted the episode title, I asked him if all the titles this season were adding up to one long sentence/story, hoping he’d confirm it and give a little more information. He did! He said it’s “in the Farmer in the Dell mode” and while I think I get what he’s saying, I’m very curious to see how it plays out. Haven’t been able to track down 5x04′s title yet, but the promo is out. (As of this morning! It’s interesting they’re not putting them after the episode this year; I kind of like it.)

Kurt’s job is up in the air given the new administration. I think this scene exists mostly just to remind us where Kurt works and the stakes.

What month is this supposed to be in? The transition seems recent but no one is wearing masks.

Kurt spots a poster asking for help ID’ing people at the Capitol on January 6th. He thinks he recognizes someone...

And now we’re in case of the week land. This case is about a small business owner whose business went under after someone created fake news articles accusing him of pedophilia.

I think the whole point of this (kind of long) scene is to show that this case is a pretty small deal. Low stakes, inexperienced opposing lawyer. (Not even sure why Liz would be arguing this in court, but whatever.)

Tbh I thought this was going to wind up in 9 ¾ court.

Now that we have junior level characters, we get scenes showing that there are, in fact, people at RBL who are mid-level. Liz asks an associate to work on something, he asks another associate to work on it, she delegates to other associates, and they delegate to Marissa and Carmen. This work seems terrible.

It’s so funny to me how this is probably more realistic than most of the lawyering on the show and yet it only shows up selectively. We only see the hierarchy here to make it clear that Marissa and Carmen are at the bottom.

David Lee interrupts and asks for Carmen. He’s very rude to her. Interestingly, she’s hesitant to leave her grunt work and follow David, even though she must know he outranks the associate who gave her the grunt work.

“Why am I supposed to know you?” David asks her as they walk through the halls. “I don’t know if you are,” Carmen responds. “Why does Benjamin Dafoe know you?” he asks. She doesn’t know who he is.

“Who are you?” Dafoe asks when Carmen enters. She states her name, again. “Why are you important?” he asks. “I don’t think that I am,” Carmen responds.

Then Dafoe says his top client, and it’s a name that the characters all know. I’m glad this scene is free of any “he’s the white OJ” expository lines (that’s from Sweeney’s introduction) -- it’s clear from the reactions and the discussion of police and rape that the top client is a bad guy, probably a rapist. The rapist wants Carmen to represent him.

Putting 2 and 2 together, Carmen asks if the rapist knows Rivi. He’s not, but he’s at the same prison. As soon as Carmen says she’s representing Rivi, David Lee switches gears, understanding the situation and trying to sign the new business. He’s so shameless!

Marissa sorts ALL the papers. There are a LOT of papers. I’m swamped. Look at all this paper.

She catches the associate who assigned her the task leaving for the night just as she finishes up, and cheerfully notes she’s finished the task. Then the associate mentions this was only half of the bills. Marissa does not like that. Since her goal in wanting to be a lawyer is mostly just to give her something exciting to do and earn respect... this hierarchy thing is not going so well.

Marissa decides that after her rough day, she’s going to stop by Wackner’s court. He’s in the middle of a case about Emily in Paris fanfiction and he’s very happy to see Marissa.

Wackner’s night court has a program—it notes the sponsor is Copy Co-op (I thought it was Copy Coop?) and the paper products were also provided by them. And “there will be regular intermissions at the discretion of Judge Wackner.” It’s very theatrical.

Wackner takes a recess and calls Marissa to his “chambers.” He asks for her thoughts on the case. “All they want is attention and to feel like they’ve won,” Marissa notes. Wackner’s on the same wave length and compares it to the Scarecrow’s diploma at the end of The Wizard of Oz. So, he makes copyright certificates and some minor modifications to each of the fanfic books. They say “I respect you and I love you” and that’s that.

Wackner catches Marissa before she leaves and asks her to be his law clerk—part time or full time, 10% of all the legal filings and unlimited use of copy machines. She is hesitant because she “doesn’t even know what this is.”

Wackner says his court is “the future.” Marissa turns him down; notes she wants to pass the bar. “You know why all these people are here? ‘Cause the courts and the lawyers and the appeals have made justice... unattainable. Out of reach. To anyone who doesn’t have a shitload of money to wait it out. That’s why Exxon beats out Mr. Nobody. Read Kafka’s Before the Law.”

I just read it, and you should too! It literally is a page, but tl;dr, there’s a man who wants to get to the law and instead he spends his whole life trying to win over the first of many gatekeepers on the path to the law. He never gets through the gate.

“Justice is only just if it’s available to everyone,” Wackner says. Marissa thinks about that.

As I said last week, it’s smart that Wackner makes so much sense. Hearing him say all this, knowing that it’s true... it makes it very easy to get on board with the thought experiment. Of course there would be huge repercussions to this kind of system, but it makes so much sense it’s compelling TV!

Kurt’s showering when Diane gets home, which gives her time to stumble across the WANTED poster and notice that Kurt has drawn facial hair onto one of the pictures. “Who is this?” she asks him. “No one,” he says. “Well, you drew in a beard and a moustache on him,” Diane notes. Kurt says he was doodling, but Diane calls him out as he is the “exact opposite of a doodler.” Kurt says he thought it was someone he knew, but he’s not sure. Diane pushes him to tell the feds. Kurt reiterates he’s not sure, but it’s someone he went shooting with. “Oh my God, then it’s him,” Diane jumps to (not incorrect) conclusions. Kurt says he didn’t talk that way; he’s a veteran. “Kurt! That’s the profile!” Diane argues. Kurt isn’t convinced and he doesn’t want to be responsible for naming names. He notes he’ll be threatened with indictment for not naming names and then only lawyers will end up benefitting. Diane is not convinced.

I think this is an interesting conflict for Kurt and Diane. I understand why Kurt is hesitant to speak out before he’s sure. And I understand and agree with Diane that it’s important to identify the attackers and prevent anything like that from happening again.

I don’t mean to blame Kurt, exactly, but I feel like all of what happens next could’ve played out differently if Kurt had been just a little clearer with Diane about why he was hesitant to ID the man. Like, the threat of indictment for not naming names sounds like some typical anti-government rambling. Saying you specifically are afraid that this will turn back on you and you need to weigh your options and come up with a plan first would put Diane in a very different mode, in which they’d work together to craft the best strategy. Because this man would’ve been ID’d by someone, sooner or later, and Kurt would’ve needed to be prepared.

Diane stares at the wanted poster at work and asks Jay to find his identity. He’s on the FBI TEN MOST WANTED? Ten!? Ok!

Diane shares the extra information she has—the gun range and that he’s a veteran—and Jay gets to work.

Turns out there’s no money in the case that Liz, a name partner, is working on and Marissa just spent all those hours sorting bills for. I could’ve told you there was no money in that case lol.

Jay IDs the guy very fast. He’s faster than the feds because they didn’t know where he shot. The range had his license on file, and Jay got ahold of it.

“Well, we don’t pay you enough,” Diane says. “Oh, I know that,” Jay laughs.

Diane says she’s going to think about calling the feds—it's definitely the same guy.

Marissa notes someone high profile (David Cord, who I presume is a thinly veiled stand-in for David Koch given the name, his role in the plot, and the fact that he is “David Cord of the Cord Brothers”) in the lobby giving a fake name and goes to tell Liz.

David Cord is performing magic tricks for the receptionists (they don’t recognize him) when Liz and Marissa show up. “I knew your father. I hated your father,” Cord says. “Yes, well, he hated you too,” Liz says. He says he gave a fake name to see what the reception would be like since he’s kinda infamous.

Liz introduces Marissa as one of the law clinic lawyers. Marissa knows what to say in this situation. Specifically, she knows that it is the exact right moment to name drop her father.

“Democrats as far as the eye can see,” Cord notes. At that, Liz asks Marissa to get Julius involved.

More good expository work! (No, editor feature of Word, I do NOT want that to say “Better expository work,” that would change my meaning, go away and please stop grading my recap??? I don’t know how I brought this up but it’s telling me my score is 72%, so a C, and it’s driving me crazy. Oh, now I’m a 71%. It had me at like, 50%, because I had written “Wackner” and “Wackner” is not a word. No shit.)

Anyway, back to the exposition. I like that we don’t get a line like, “Liz! David Cord, the Republican super donor, is here!” We just get to see Liz’s reaction, Cord’s hate of Liz’s father, and the line about democrats. Then it becomes clearer who Cord is.

Just noticed Liz is wearing an Apple Watch.

Liz stands for her meeting with Cord, likely to maintain power. Cord says January 6th changed everything to him and now he’s all about unity and loving America.

Cord has something to say about Liz’s case, the one that’s not making any money, and he seems to know quite a lot about it. That spooks Liz.

Then Cord offers her $12 million to continue the case for another six months (all of these months, seemingly, will play out in the couple of days the rest of this episode takes, but, whatever). He just wants them to go after the social media company that distributed the fake news... and Section 230.

Don’t know what that is? Now you do, because there is a Good Fight short! These work so much better when they’re actually needed (explaining concepts, etc.) than when they’re trying to force one into every episode (remember that Downton Abbey one? What... was that?)

I was talking to @mimeparadox about this short and he pointed out that this short has a VERY clear POV on an issue that actually doesn’t seem to be all that straightforward. If you’re like me and only had a vague sense of what Section 230 was prior to this episode, this short is telling you what to think of it—it isn’t just explaining what it is.

I do tend to agree with the show’s POV on most things, but this is an issue I’d like to read more on. I love how Section 230 was something I hadn’t really read up on prior to this episode and now that it’s been on TGF I realize it’s something that actually, yes, I would’ve been interested in knowing about earlier. Is this because things that are on TGF are interesting to me because they’re on TGF or is it because TGF generally only discusses things that would be interesting to me? Probs a little bit of both.

Diane asks Jay how to make an anonymous phone call and he hands her a burner phone. She calls the FBI with the rioter’s name. She doesn’t leave her name and then she dumps the phone.

Credits! Did you catch there’s a Jordan Boatman in the credits? She plays one of the associates who passes down the grunt work to Marissa, and she’s Michael Boatman’s daughter in real life! She’s also been in one other episode, in season 3.

I never get tired of these credits!

The RL partners (and some associates who are on the case? I think these are the same ones who delegated the work to Marissa?) debate whether or not they should take Cord’s money. Madeline notes that he’s funded a lot of Republican campaigns; Julius notes that both Republicans and Democrats agree that Section 230 is flawed and this is an opportunity for unity.

Diane notes that the right doesn’t want to stop conspiracy theories from spreading, so is this really that bipartisan? “It would help if the boomers would stop falling for those conspiracy theories and sharing it with their friends,” an associate (I believe this is Michael Boatman’s daughter again) notes. That quiets the room and the partners all glare at her. Yeah, that was a kind of stupid thing to say. First of all, it’s just not appropriate to say to the partners, and it’s also, like, missing the point? If it’s easy for conspiracy theories to spread among boomers, maybe just expecting each member of that generation to suddenly have a millennial’s understanding of the internet is the wrong strategy? Maybe there’s some structural issue here? That maybe, just maybe, this case is actually about?

The associate also points out that the internet is currently a place where people can speak out about sexual harassment-- “they repeal section 230, and there would be no #MeToo.”

One of the partners says he doesn’t believe that—if they regulate section 230, then newspapers can actually be competitive and there’s still free speech online.

“We’re not going back to reading newspapers, grandpa,” some associate says. What the actual fuck, dude? Who talks like that to their boss?! It’s so condescending. He’s also wrong! “Newspapers” are not just physical things... reporting by major publications still matters and will continue to matter. Like, is he suggesting that in the future all news will just be random people tweeting things they think are true with no fact checking or curation? Sure, journalism is struggling right now—but I don’t think that’s because there’s a lack of desire for well-reported news.

I am glad the partners call him out on saying “grandpa” and honestly I’m shocked he isn’t asked to leave the discussion after that rude remark. Unless this young looking dude is a partner too? But I don’t think he is.

Julius notes that if they’re going to pursue this case, they need money like Cord’s. At that, Liz starts to leave the meeting. “We haven’t decided if we’re taking this Cord money yet,” Madeline protests. “Of course we are,” Liz says and leaves.

Now that’s more like it! I’m not sure if this is necessarily the best way to handle this, but she’s a) correct, they were always going to take the money because it is $12 million and an issue of interest and b) using her authority. Should Liz be making decisions totally on her own? Maybe not. Does Liz making this decision and then leaving (with everyone accepting that she’s correct) cut through a lot of bullshit and establish Liz as the one in charge? Yup.

Diane says, “Ooh-kay” with a little bit of an eyeroll after Liz exits, but she’s still laying low. I think in a different season Diane might’ve tried to push back.

Is it me or does Baranski get a lot of material this episode we haven’t seen before? Lots of really good reaction shots/tones in this episode I don’t really think we’ve seen from Diane before. I’m impressed there’s still new stuff after 12 years.

At some point maybe I will actually write the essay I’ve been wanting to write for ages about how TGF is still so relevant despite being in a universe that should be showing its age by now. I wish I could find the first time that I called TGW a period piece set in the present day (I know it would’ve been during season five) because I think that’s the key to TGW/TGF’s enduring success. The shows always feel timely because they try to capture the present moment (which is, of course, always changing) and don’t get stuck in any one moment in time. Further, the fact that the writers are always so tuned in to events and skilled at quickly reacting to what happens in the world makes them VERY good in a pinch, which is (I think) why they’re able to make the most of unexpected situations (Josh leaving TGW, the pandemic).

Liz and Julius bring a suit against ChumHum to attack 230. Judge Friend is initially skeptical of their argument that 230 is unconstitutional; then she’s intrigued. I am too. This argument about the press is a very interesting one. I obviously have a lot of reading to do on 230, but my take after this episode is pretty much that social media platforms have to be held responsible in some way, but I don’t think it’s feasible or desirable for them to be responsible for every single one of billions of posts. I think there has to be some way to regulate social media giants that would allow everyday people to share things and speak out but would prevent the curated (even by an algorithm) spread of fake news and make social media giants accountable when there are very public bad actors using their platforms. What that regulation would be I have no idea. I just refuse to believe that our options are to give the social media sites full immunity or to regulate the internet so strongly that no one is able to speak freely because all the platforms are worried about lawsuits.

Over at the VA, people are being fired. When Kurt gets into his office, Madeline Starkey (wait, are there two characters named Madeline in this episode?) is waiting for him. She’s still very quirky and scary.

Starkey says the guy that Diane reported is now saying Kurt trained him on using assault rifles and buying ammunition in bulk. Kurt notes these were topics covered in a group setting, which Starkey knew—and what she’s really after is the names of the others in the group. (She may already know them, since she knows there were five of them.)

Kurt refuses to name names and just stares at her.

Case stuff happens! (I liked the last two episodes a lot but it’s much faster for me to just write, “case stuff happens” for some of the scenes.)

Hey, surprise Aaron Tveit! (Not really a surprise; he is in the credits. But still yay!)

I don’t really know why Liz and Julius are talking about newspapers specifically and not all types of fact-based journalism/press? I feel like their argument is most convincing when it’s about actual newspapers (especially local ones) but still would apply to cable news...

Marissa’s still hard at work sorting papers when the associate comes back in and informs her she can stop; they’ve changed strategies and everything she’s done is now irrelevant. She also says “I forgot to tell you” at the start of that thought, meaning that she neglected to tell Marissa this important information earlier and wasted her time. Marissa is not pleased and so she goes to Wackner’s court, where Wackner now has a deli ticket machine and is wearing super-sized novelty sunglasses. Why not!

He sees Marissa and calls a five-minute recess. In “chambers,” Marissa tells him she’d like to work for him part-time but keep her RL job.

Wackner needs her help processing more copyright certificates. He’s priced them competitively at $20 and found that a lot of writers want these certificates, even though they have no legal value. (Neither do actual copyrights, Wackner notes. And he notes that if anyone plagiarizes, they can sue in HIS court.)

“Marissa, I’m building something here. I want you to join me. I want your advice on cases. I want to bounce legal theories off you,” he says. “What are your legal theories?” she asks. “I don’t know. That’s why I need to bounce them,” he says.

Marissa gives him from noon to 2 and 5-7, which seems awfully ambitious for someone working at a law firm!

“That’s how revolutions are made. Back rooms of copy shops,” he says, accepting her offer.

Kurt is sulking in the dark when Diane arrives home. He lets her know about Starkey’s visit and she immediately goes into lawyer mode. Notably, this scene does not spend much time on how Starkey found out the rioter’s name. Curious if they’re saving that for later or if Diane and Kurt both know what Diane must have done or if Kurt think’s it’s a coincidence.

Kurt SET UP A TOUR OF THE CAPITOL for one of the veterans in his shooting group, and that tour was ON JANUARY 6TH! I really do wish he’d told Diane that upfront.

Maybe the long pause where Kurt refuses to tell Diane which congressperson arranged the tour even after she promises she won’t say is him letting on that he knows that Diane ID’d the guy? Or maybe it’s just Kurt.

I do not like the dead birds in Starkey’s office, mostly because I do not like thinking about dead birds.

Starkey compares Diane and Kurt to the Conways.

And now more case stuff happens.

Julius gets to question a witness for the first time in two years! He’s a little shaky at first but then he does a fantastic job! Yay Julius!

When Diane arrives at the office, reception is filled with around a hundred teddy bears. “What?” she asks. “Build-a-Bears. They were sent to Marissa,” the receptionist explains. “Okay... why?” Diane asks the logical next question. The receptionist does not know.

“This one’s a Marissa bear,” she says, showing Diane a bear wearing boots and a wig. It does not look much like Marissa and it says “Hug me.”

Diane looks confused and furious at the same time. Her look here is, like, a milder version of the death stare she gives Alicia in Outside the Bubble when she learns about Alicia and Cary’s plan to leave.

“Why don’t we, meaning you, take all these stuffed animals and put them in the conference room,” Diane instructs the receptionist. She is NOT! HAPPY! The receptionist seemed to be having fun with the bears, but clearly the right answer was to have done something with them and... not to have put them over every surface in reception. Eeek.

Carmen’s new client, the rapist, arrives at the firm before anyone can hide the bears. “This may not be the firm for you,” his advisor/lawyer (I’m not totally sure what this dude’s job is) warns.

Madeline notices the rapist and glares at the receptionist. “I know. I’m putting them in the conference room,” the receptionist says, thinking Madeline is upset about the bears. She is not upset about the bears.

Diane finds Marissa, who’s working with Carmen again. She asks Carmen to give them a moment.

“Why are there hundreds of teddy bears in our reception?” Diane asks. Marissa is confused. Diane shows her the Marissa bear. Marissa looks horrified and amused. “That doesn’t even look like me,” Marissa notes, completely missing how pissed off Diane is. I don’t think we have seen Diane be this direct/no-nonsense in ages.

“That would seem to be beside the point. What is going on, Marissa?” Diane demands. Marissa suspects this is based on some advice she offered to a client who was buying a Build-a-Bear franchise and thinks this is a thank you gift. “What client? You’re not a lawyer! Why do you have clients?” Diane says exasperatedly.

Marissa gives her a look, and Diane immediately understands that she’s been back to Wackner’s court. “Oh my God, this is about that Copy Coop court?”

“Marissa, no. By participating in that simulacrum of a courtroom, you exposed this firm to malpractice, sanctions, and God knows what,” Diane says. If that were really true, she wouldn’t have sat there and argued. I mean, I don’t know the legality of this all, but I feel like it’s a bigger optics issue than legal issue if Diane and other lawyers are willing to even consider participating?

“If you wish to continue your employment at this firm, you will never do anything like that again. Do you understand?” Diane says. She will not hear any arguments.

I love that Marissa is the thing that keeps Wackner coming back. It’s a good plot for her, but structurally, it also allows the show to keep Wackner around without many contrivances. Wackner sees that Marissa would understand what he’s up to, she sees that he shares some of her frustrations with the law, and they both want to work together again. It’s not like suddenly everyone’s talking about Wackner’s court and all the cases somehow end up there or anything.

The receptionist, who is having a truly terrible day, comes into announce that Kurt and Starkey have arrived. “Don’t put them in the conference room!” Diane commands, knowing that the teddy bears will be there. It’s too late, though, because the receptionist (who previously seemed to be fine at her job if bad at recognizing public figures and understanding that partners might not find teddy bears amusing) has already put them in the conference room. I feel bad for her, and don’t think the other things were her fault, but I feel like she could’ve seen this one coming...

I find the teddy bears HILARIOUS, mostly because the reactions to them are so funny. It’s kind of the same gag as the balloons for Lucca in season two, but I don’t really care, because I’m getting to see Diane Lockhart treat hundreds of Build-a-Bears like they are a real work problem.

Starkey jokes about the bears; Kurt is silent.

The rioter from the poster is now accusing Kurt of coming up with the STRATEGY for January 6th, which Kurt and Diane both dismiss as bullshit.

I could do without Starkey’s musical cues.

I can’t tell if Kurt is in trouble here or if she’s just pressing him to name names. Why wouldn’t she just have rioter guy name names if he’s so eager to blame Kurt? I guess maybe if the others were actually there, he might be less likely to name the names of his actual co-conspirators? Or, Starkey might already know the names (surely the shooting range has logs) and be using this to raise the stakes.

No one (except maybe the partner named Daniel) is happy about the rapist in reception. “Since when are we representing people like Wolfe-Coleman?” Julius asks. Didn’t these people help both Sweeney (though I think Sweeney was in some weird police brutality case and they didn’t actually want to represent him) and Bishop? And Rivi? But they draw the line here? Sure.

Ah, there we go, an expository line-- “he’s the next Jeffrey Epstein”. Almost made it the whole episode without one of these. I’ll forgive it since it’s so late in the episode lol.

“Did you approve this, Liz?!” Madeline demands. Liz did not. Daniel wonders if that means Diane approved it. Liz doesn’t think so and calls Diane (who happens to be walking past) in.

“I know, the teddy bears. I’m working on it,” Diane says when she opens the door. I think the teddy bears are a bigger issue to Diane than to anyone else.

Diane didn’t approve representing Mr. Rapey either. She’s uncomfortable that a meeting was happening without her; Madeline notes that she is standing there specifically because they wanted to involve her.

David Lee pops up out of nowhere with the answer: one of the new associates (not Marissa, “the real one”) pulled in Mr. Rapey. Are there only two associates now even though orientation was for a big group?

Firth is gone, btw. David Lee is the new Mr. Firth. I have no idea why David would want to be STR Laurie’s guy for managing RL but... sure, whatever? David Lee is an effective antagonist, especially in small doses, and this allows the writers to keep him around and continue the STR Laurie plot without a key guest star. If STR Laurie is still a thing, and it seems like it is going to be a thing for a while, then having David Lee take on this role makes sense for plot. Otherwise they’re going to have to shoehorn him in to every plot somehow. At least now he has a reason to be around.

Liz and Diane take a walk to chat. Diane is worried about having David as their boss. Liz says she has a worse worry—David Lee knew exactly when to come downstairs with information, suggesting he know what they were talking about. “Would he do something like that?” Liz asks when Diane wonders if there’s a bug. “Oh, yeah,” Diane replies. Hah, yeah. He absolutely would.

They decide to have Jay search for bugs and Liz is frustrated with how much time they have to spend on things other than lawyering. Yup.

“What is going on with all the teddy bears in the conference room?” Liz asks as they head back to the office. “It’s a long story,” Diane sighs. I also love that the teddy bears link the various pieces of the episode together—it feels like all of these threads are happening simultaneously because of that constant.

I don’t get RL’s approach to clients. Bishop and Rivi are ok, Wolfe-Colman is not (except that actually he is fine). Cord is okay too. Do they draw the line anywhere? I know Liz was right when she said that OF COURSE they were taking the money, but is there really nothing that differentiates that situation from this one? I feel like there should be.

Marissa goes back to see Wackner. Since someone refuses to say “I respect and I love you,” Wackner reverses his ruling. This is part of the “Bad Loser Law of last Wednesday,” so the rules of Wackner’s court are clearly a work in progress.

Marissa explains she can’t be the law clerk because of Diane. She tries to connect him with a real lawyer, still not understanding exactly what Wackner’s after. “You know just enough not to crush what I’m doing here,” Wackner explains. “A real lawyer will look for reasons why not. I need someone to look for reasons why.”

Case stuff happens. I cannot read Cord’s handwriting. Liz and Julius lose the case because Judge Friend says what’s happening isn’t fair, but it is constitutional. (So here we have, at least in the show’s POV, a good and attentive judge who can’t make decisions that make sense because she’s bound by a document written before anyone had ever dreamed of the internet.)

Cord is waiting for Liz in her office. He’s prepared to bankroll an appeal. Did they blow thorough that $12 million already? Impressive; it’s been like a day.

Cord says they are definitely the firm he wants. Interesting.

Now Liz wants a meeting with Carmen, so it’s Marissa who leaves the room. This scene seems like it was meant to be a different day?

Liz wants to talk about Mr. Rapey. Carmen is, yet again, chill about the case. “Carmen, is there anyone that you would not represent?” Liz asks. Funny, Liz, I could ask you the same. Being hesitant about it is not changing the fact that you’re representing bad people. Carmen’s just cutting the bullshit.

“I don’t understand. Is there someone you don’t want me to represent?” I love how Carmen’s incredibly polite responses always seem very pointed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Carmen’s reply, and yet it puts Liz in a place where she can’t dance around what she’s trying to say.

“I’m just trying to get a sense of who you are,” Liz explains.

Then Liz decides she’s going to help on the Craig Wolfe-Colman (Mr. Rapey) case, and they will keep talking about her career path. Liz, this does not seem like the right solution! You're worried about your associate representing bad people so you’re like, I know, what if I ALSO represented bad people? If your goal is to convince Carmen not to take clients like this, you’re kinda shooting yourself in the foot!

“Are you worried about me?” Carmen says, again turning things on Liz. “I don’t know what I am about you,” Liz replies. Me either. Well, I know I'm intrigued, but beyond that, no clue!

All the bears have ended up in Diane’s office, where Wackner is waiting. He jokes about how his court is always seen as informal, yet this real fancy law office is covered in Build-a-Bears. Then he says he wants to hire RL—he's willing to pay. He wants consultation from Marissa (“consultation on legal issues”) and he’s prepared to spend a lot. And, if there’s one thing we know, it’s that they’re always going to take the money. So, they do.

I love that Wackner’s goal is to “perfect my little clubhouse of the law.” It’s a fun plot, and it also allows for the rules in his court to change (I’m sure we’re going to be treated to/subjected to a lot of whimsical gags around changing and ridiculous rules). It's also a good way to work through the thought experiment over the course of the season. It’s not like Wackner already has a system set up and it’s perfect—I'm sure we’re going to see his system run into issues and explore that more, too.

Wackner monologues a bit here about why he’s running fake court, and he lets us know he’s going to monologue. Basically he thinks people no longer want to help people and are only motivated by their own self interest. He notes that no one talks about the Peace Corps anymore and asks the last time Diane heard anyone say those words. I’m sure I’ve heard a reference more recently but my mind went RIGHT to season one Cary Agos saying “Peace Corps. Belize,” as some kind of smarmy pickup line. This is likely not where my mind was supposed to go.

Wackner wants “A new Peace Corps. For America.” Diane’s sympathetic to that and agrees to take him on as a client.

Wackner asks if he can take a bear. Diane instructs him to take two.

Aaaand Wackner and Cord end up on the elevator together. Wackner hands Cord a bear, the elevator doors close, and the episode ends. Since last episode ended with Marissa and Carmen in the elevator together, I’m hoping this will be how every episode this season ends. I think using the Kings’ favorite liminal space to transition between episodes is kind of fun, and it fits with the ellipses at the end of every episode title.

Speaking of... did you see today’s elevator-themed episode of Evil? It was written by the Kings. Those two have been obsessed with elevators for at least a decade.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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makeste · 4 years

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just another long rambling post trying to explain why I, a Bakugou fan, would treasonously want him to lose his quirk

this is something I had originally intended to post about later down the line, after we actually know for sure whether or not Bakugou is going to lose his quirk. but seeing as parts of this post (see: point #5) also indirectly address some issues that people had with the latest chapter (283) as well, I decided I might as well jump the gun.

this is a topic I’ve gotten a lot of asks about, and so I’ve tried to gather all of those various arguments into one single post with my own comments and rebuttals. however, the purpose of this post isn’t really to convince anyone or change anyone’s mind. it’s pretty much just an explanation of why I am so sold on the idea. I think it’s a little defensive at times, and I definitely feel like one of the side effects of getting asks like this...

...is that I feel compelled to explain that yes, as the veritable mountain of Bakuessays on this blog can attest to, I am in fact a Bakugou fan, and have not been standing here this whole time just waiting for the perfect moment to rip off my disguise revealing my secret “#1 Deku Stan!! BAKUGOU CAN SUCK IT” shirt underneath while cackling nefariously. like. just so we’re clear on that here.

I know I’ve said this repeatedly, but it’s precisely because I’m such an adamant fan of Bakugou that I’m excited over the story potential of him possibly becoming quirkless. as for why I keep bringing it up, honestly it’s mostly just because I keep getting the asks, lol. and so my options are basically to either say “ah you know what, you’ve convinced me,” or to keep trying to explain my reasoning at the risk of making everyone increasingly mad and/or bored.

anyway, so there are five arguments which I want to address, and they are as follows:

it’s repetitive/boring/we’ve already had the plotline of a prodigy student losing their quirk.

it cheapens Bakugou’s character development by directly “forcing” him to learn something, instead of him arriving at the conclusion on his own.

losing his quirk would put him on the back-burner, story-wise, and exclude him from further fights and story development.

Bakugou doesn’t need to learn anything more/there isn’t anything important Bakugou could learn by losing his quirk that he couldn’t learn in some other manner.

losing his quirk would mean him falling hopelessly behind Deku, and playing second fiddle to him when he should be Deku’s equal. it would render his whole story and all of his development meaningless.

before I get started, please be advised that this is a very long post. like, tragically long. idk I did my best to rein it in but it just got ramblier and ramblier sob anyways so here’s a cut.

okay!

1. it’s repetitive/boring/we’ve already had the plotline of a prodigy student losing their quirk.

have you ever heard people pose the argument that all of the good stories have already been told? the idea is basically that there’s no such thing as a truly original story anymore, because humankind has been telling stories for thousands of years and we’ve exhausted any and all original ideas by this point. the problem with this, though, is that it assumes that (1) stories must always be 100% completely original in order to be good, and (2) if the basic building blocks of two stories are the same, then those stories must basically be identical. which is very much not the case. classic story structures are classic for a reason. the best stories are based around themes and conflicts and story beats which have been reimagined in a million different ways, and which work precisely because they’re familiar, and because they still resonate with people each and every time. and each and every time, it’s still a different story, because even if the ideas and themes and even some of the emotions are the same, the people are different, and no two people’s stories will ever be exactly the same.

all of which is to say that firstly, just because someone has already lost their quirk doesn’t mean it’s not an interesting enough concept to explore again. but more importantly, Bakugou and Mirio are not the same person. Bakugou is a completely different character than Mirio, with a completely different personality and history, and completely different relationships with the other principal characters. in other words it is absolutely not the same story at all. Bakugou won’t react the same way as Mirio. he’s not a character who can be faded into the background like Mirio unfortunately was. and most importantly, he’s a character whose own personal history with the formerly quirkless main character makes this an extremely personal and compelling character arc which would hit in a vastly different way than Mirio’s. I don’t think it’s repetitive at all, any more than “the heroes fight the villains” is a repetitive plotline. basically this argument, which is subjective to begin with, just doesn’t hold any water to me, I’m sorry.

2. it cheapens Bakugou’s character development by directly “forcing” him to learn something instead of him arriving at the conclusion on his own.

okay there are two counterarguments that I want to make here. the first is that this has always been Bakugou’s character development process since day one. he has never simply just arrived at a zenlike conclusion on his own through stern self-reflection or anything like that. his entire story has been him learning and growing from one humbling experience after another. examples:

he stops bullying Deku after Deku saves his life.

he undergoes a huge shift in attitude after Deku beats him in their training fight on the second day of school. he eats a healthy serving of humble pie and listens to the constructive criticisms that Momo, Aizawa and the rest pile onto him afterwards, and the result is that he becomes less cocky and starts taking his training much more seriously.

he wins-but-loses to Todoroki in the school festival and it serves as a reminder that simply winning isn’t everything. being the best is meaningless if it’s handed to you. as a result his determination is fueled even more.

he is LITERALLY FORCED POINT-BLANK to work together with Deku in order to pass his final exam. he is dragged kicking and screaming. I can’t stress enough how completely unwilling he was to learn this lesson otherwise lmao. it’s abundantly clear that he would never have done this on his own had the lesson not been almost literally beaten into his own head.

his experience at Kamino -- being targeted because he was perceived as villainous, and feeling responsible for All Might’s retirement afterwards -- is perhaps the best example of how Katsuki takes a terrible experience and uses it to grow leaps and bounds as a person. he develops a new awareness of how his actions can potentially be perceived by others (a vital lesson if he ever hopes to make it to the top). and he’s profoundly humbled (I keep using that word, so I just want to pause a sec to clarify that I mean it not in a “humiliated and crushed” way, but in a “freedom from pride and arrogance” way; in other words this is ultimately a positive thing, even if it comes about in an unpleasant way) by the experience, enough so that he finally lets his walls of pride crumble enough to have his weirdly violent heart-to-heart with Deku. and as a result the two of them grow closer, and All Might sets him down the path of Win To Save and Save To Win. something which I feel compelled to note that he still had ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE ABOUT beforehand. this is another thing that literally had to be spelled out for him before he could grasp it. it’s very hard for me to conceive a way of somehow spinning this particular development, which is by far the most important in his arc to date, as being something he just “learned on his own.”

and I forgot to mention it, but him failing the provisional license exam also directly contributed to the character development mentioned above! that was what finally tipped him over the edge. even though he was reeling from everything that had happened at Kamino, he still had too much pride to actually open up to anyone about it until this second “loss” of sorts finally convinced him that he really was doing something terribly wrong, and pushed him to talk to Deku about it.

and that brings us to where we’re at currently! there are a few other things I didn’t mention, like Jeanist lecturing him on the meaning behind choosing a hero name, and his internship with Endeavor teaching him... something. tbd lol. but anyways my point here is that Bakugou has always been a character who learns chiefly through his mistakes and painful experiences. it’s extremely rare for him to just arrive at some new tidbit of enlightenment all on his own, and if it does, it often still originally stems from a past -- often painful -- experience. that’s just how he is. his stubbornness is one of my favorite things about him, but it’s also always hindered his growth to some extent, and has made it harder for him to change his viewpoint all on his own, even though he is to his credit very open to change once something finally does sink in. he’s someone who’s always trying to be better. it’s just that a lot of times he needs to be nudged and pushed in the right direction, particularly on those few occasions where the thing he has to learn is something that runs counter to his current viewpoint to such a degree that he’s resistant to learning it (see, again, working together with Deku in the final exam).

and that finally brings me to my second counterargument to this point, which is that I very strongly feel that having to learn something “directly” in this very blunt manner does not make it cheap. that actually comes off as a bit insulting to all of Bakugou’s previous character development if I’m being honest. his development isn’t cheapened just because something was harder for him to learn. he’s not less of a good person just because he had a harder struggle to learn those things, and needed help and guidance, and made mistakes along the way. I feel very strongly that people shouldn’t be judged on how they grow, or their reasons for that growth. that to me feels like gatekeeping the concept of being a good person. “Bakugou isn’t as good of a character because he only started saving others and caring about people after he got kidnapped.” like, come on. people grow through their experiences! that’s literally where all growth stems from, even growth that on the surface appears to be self-fueled and motivated. every single action, every single motivation, happens because at some point or other, that person experienced something that led to them thinking and feeling that way, and deciding to do that thing. we are the sum total of our experiences, I believe is how the saying goes. and that goes double for characters in a story, because watching them go through those experiences is how we the audience discover who these characters are.

anyway so this argument is also a miss from where I stand. if it takes losing his quirk for Bakugou to have an epiphany about true strength, and what truly makes a hero on the inside, then goddammit, good for him. that’s nothing to be ashamed of. in the end that’s still his hard-earned growth, and he’s not any lesser for having learned it through adversity instead of just stumbling upon the answer somewhere along the way.

3. losing his quirk would put him on the back-burner, story-wise, and exclude him from further fights and story development.

hard disagree here as well. losing his quirk would be the single biggest thing that ever happened to Bakugou. a development like that would almost demand we focus on it. perhaps not right away (just like we didn’t immediately focus on him right after Kamino), but it would be inevitable. in fact, I’d argue that Bakugou losing his quirk is one of the only ways to guarantee that the story puts his character development back at the forefront again at some point, and doesn’t just drop the plotline entirely in an “eh, good enough” manner. it’s a development that basically makes his character development the focus of the plot, instead of us only ever getting little side anecdote scenes of “slowly becoming less of an asshole” for the rest of the series. it’s character development on hard mode, to be sure, but the fact of the matter is that Bakugou is not the main character, and so his personal character journey is only going to make it back to the forefront of the story if and when something significant enough occurs so as to make it worthy of being a focus.

as for the other half of this argument, the thing to understand here is that “Kacchan loses his quirk” is NOT the beginning, middle, and end of that storyline all in one. it absolutely won’t be “welp too bad, guess you can’t be a hero after all” and that’s that. “Kacchan loses his quirk” is only the first act of a story arc that continues with “Kacchan struggles with the aftermath of losing his quirk”, and concludes with “Kacchan regains his quirk and reemerges stronger than ever.” how that will ultimately play out, I don’t know! Vestiges; Eri; OFA; the quirk-restoring bullets which the villains also had at some point unless I’m misremembering things; whatever! the key thing here is that I have faith that it will play out. every single argument you see here is in the context of me believing that the endgame here is not a loss for him, but a win. it’s actually the win, because if all goes well, he comes back stronger than ever because he’s finally done away with the one remaining thing that was holding him back -- that lingering unnecessary fear, insecurity, and pride that’s still at the root of so many of his actions even now.

which brings me to my next point.

4. Bakugou doesn’t need to learn anything more/there isn’t anything important Bakugou could learn by losing his quirk that he couldn’t learn in some other manner.

you’ve no doubt guessed it, but I once again disagree here lol. he definitely still has more to learn. Bakugou’s character development thus far has been extraordinary, but all the same, I still want more for him. I don’t think this is the best he’s capable of. his ceiling is much, much higher, and to say that this is as good as he gets is to underestimate him imo.

here’s an incomplete list of things that Bakugou, at present, is still clearly struggling with, numbered alphabetically so that I can explain afterwards how losing his quirk would address each one.

a.) he still obsessively compares his progress to Deku’s at every turn. we got a little bit of insight into his thought processes just recently in chapter 275, and it was extremely revealing. his rivalry with Deku has been a good thing thus far, but this is primarily because up until this point he has been able to keep pace with Deku. so much of his confidence and self-worth seems to hinge on this one specific thing which is notably outside his control, and that’s troubling to me. but more on that further down in a bit.

b.) he’s still incapable of admitting that he cares about people (which is endearing to be fair, but nonetheless indicates that he still views caring as a weakness, and is uncomfortable acknowledging or expressing it).

c.) he has not yet sorted out the problem of coming off as hostile, vulgar, and aggressive even when a situation necessitates him to be more cooperative. to put it plainly, he’s incapable of dialing back his personality even the slightest degree and as a result gets edited out of interviews and has his friends constantly scrambling to apologize and/or interpret for him. I know that a lot of people -- myself included -- actually adore this feral side of him and even consider it one of his most endearing traits, but still, the fact of the matter is that it’s not a good thing that he’s entirely incapable of even the slightest bit of emotional regulation. at some point he’s going to have to sort his shit out at least a little bit; even Endeavor and Mirko are capable of reining it in when it comes to dealing with the public at large and with the press. if he wants to reach the top ranks he still has a lot of growing to do here.

d.) he still thinks of his own worth purely in terms of physical strength. this is a big one. Katsuki has always defined his own world in terms of strength and weakness. “strong” is good; “weak” is bad. people who win are strong. people with quirks are strong. he has a good quirk so he’s strong. Deku doesn’t have a quirk so he shouldn’t be strong (which becomes a paradox and a source of great fear and confusion to him when he realizes on a deep subconscious level that Deku somehow is strong in spite of lacking a quirk). All Might is the best hero because he’s strong and never loses. he’s going to be even better than All Might, and he’ll do it by being strong and never losing.

except that these ideas are all limited, and limiting. physical strength is not the only kind of strength. All Might wasn’t the number one hero and the Symbol of Peace only because he was strong. Katsuki isn’t strong only because he has a good quirk. but he’s still stuck on this idea regardless, and everything he does, everything he is is defined by this idea. even now, with everything he’s learned, he’s still stuck in this limited perspective. and the very obvious problem with that is that it places him in a precarious emotional position where if he ever actually loses, or something happens to strip that physical strength of his away, his entire core of self-worth stands to fall apart as a result. he’s put all his eggs in that basket. and it’s the source of all of his insecurity, and it’s a weakness that’s just waiting to be exploited, and which is holding him back from discovering and acknowledging so many other good things about himself.

e.) and last but not least we’ve got what is by far his biggest current failing (and I say not to put him down, but rather in that same spirit of “learning to acknowledge your own weaknesses” which he himself has so readily embraced), which is that he is still only focused on himself. mind you, I’m not saying that he’s a bad person, or that he doesn’t care about other people! but I am saying that he is self-centered, and that’s just a fact, and I would defy anyone to try and argue otherwise tbh. he is constantly and completely focused only on his own goals. and on top of that he also has great difficulty seeing things from any perspective other than his own, which has been the cause of numerous clashes and misunderstandings with other people, some more disastrous than others (see: that one time he thought Deku must be looking down on him because he couldn’t conceive of a situation where anyone would actually want to accept help from someone else, rather than being self-sufficient, and thus assumed that Deku’s attempt to help him was in fact an insult). he casts himself in the role of the main character, and dismisses most everyone else as “extras.” and it took him an extraordinarily long time to learn the importance of learning from and helping other people (and again, this was something which had to be explicitly spelled out for him. I’ll say it again and again if I have to, because it’s so important in understanding where Bakugou is coming from and what his mindset is in all of this. he had to have it spelled out, because it was genuinely something which wouldn’t have occurred to him otherwise, because it’s so alien to everything he grew up believing up till that point, and because he has so much difficulty seeing other perspectives).

and again, I’m not saying this to dump on him or imply that he doesn’t care! because he does; we’ve seen that demonstrated on multiple occasions. he has compassion for others. he wants to do the right thing and he wants to be a good person, and he tries very hard in his own way. but he is nonetheless still stuck in his own perspective. he struggles with empathy and being able to see from other people’s points of view. and that is a huge barrier to his becoming the greatest hero of all time, and it’s probably the most difficult barrier to overcome. the behavior is something he can and has been chipping away at little by little, but the root causes of the behavior are still there.

anyway. so now that I’ve said all of that, which probably could have been its own essay in and of itself, how would losing his quirk do anything to address these issues? so let’s now break that down point by point as well, using the same alphabetical numbering system as before. I’m skipping the first one because I’ll address it further down, so we’ll start with b.

b.) it makes him more vulnerable in that it’s a huge blow to his pride. how is that a good thing you ask? because pride is always a double-edged sword. the downside is that losing it hurts his self-esteem (but more on that in a sec), but the upside is it opens him up more to accepting kindness from other people, and allowing himself to express kindness and caring himself in return. pride is almost always the biggest obstacle in doing that. so the short of this is that it could lead to us seeing a more open, willingly vulnerable side to him that would strengthen his relationships and serve him well in the long run.

c.) in a similar vein, the ego check would probably help to address some of his emotional instability as well. a not-insignificant chunk of his tactless exterior is basically just a projection; a tough guy persona he’s constructed over the years as part of his neverending quest to be strong. there’s also a fair amount of insecurity (interpreting everything other people say in the worst way possible and reacting with defensive hostility), arrogance/boastfulness, and fear of vulnerability (aka weakness) mixed in as well. so I could see the whole experience leading to a softening of his personality. in my ideal world this would mostly be just temporary, with his usual Bakuattitude gradually being restored piece by piece as his soul searching adventures wear on and he starts acting like his old self more and more. but I do think that in the end, the loss of that insecurity in particular would go a long way towards helping him gain the ability to chill out just a little bit more when the situation calls for it.

d.) it strips him of that physical strength he’s depended on and defined himself by his whole life. sometimes we need to lose something in order to see and appreciate the other things we take for granted or don’t even realize that we have. Katsuki has so many other qualities that make him a good person and a great hero. he’s intelligent, perceptive, brave, resourceful, and extraordinarily determined. he’s strategic and analytical and quick-thinking. he inspires devotion in others and is a natural leader. and he is honest and sticks to his principles and stands up for his beliefs. there is so much more to admire about him than just strength. so many other kinds of strength that he has. and stripping his quirk away would force him to see that at long last. he’s not just a nobody without his power. the things that make him a worthy hero at his core have very little to do with his quirk.

e.) and then the big one -- learning to see past himself. the truth is that Bakugou has always led a relatively privileged life. he was good at everything, the things he wanted came very easily to him, and he’s basically been at the top of the food chain since he was very young. but the downside of this is that it led to a deep-seeded fear of losing all of that, or failing to live up to it. and because he feared weakness so much, he’s spent his entire life looking down on weaker people. his fear of weakness led to him despising anyone with those “weak” qualities that he secretly feared, rather than having compassion for them. add to that the fact that he just has a hard time seeing outside of his own perspective, and we’ve got a situation in which perhaps the only way for him to really gain that kind of compassion and empathy is to experience some of these things for himself.

becoming quirkless is a way of presenting new challenges to him that he would have never faced otherwise. it forces him to answer questions he’s always been too afraid to ask. it forces him to look at himself in a way he never has before, to take a good long look at his own fears and desires. what if you can’t become the number one hero? do you just give up? do you stop trying? do you stubbornly push back against the inevitable? what happens if you do become weak? do you just accept that for the rest of your life? just sit back and watch as everyone else moves on without you? how can you fight without a quirk? what can you do without a quirk? why did you want to become a hero in the first place? why did you seek out strength? what was it for? why do you struggle with everything you have to reach the very top??

and I’d like to think that some of the answers to those questions are, yes, I am still strong. and, no, I can’t give up. and, no, I won’t accept defeat, no matter what. and, I’m not sure, but no matter what happens I’ll keep on fighting. and, because the person I admired taught me to never, ever give up. and, because I wanted to surpass my limits. and, because I want to be the best version of myself.

and that is growth. and it’s precisely the kind of growth you can’t achieve until you’ve searched deep within yourself and laid your soul out bare. and it will make him a better character, and a better hero in the end. and that’s what we’re all here for isn’t it? that’s literally what this story is about. the journey of these kids growing up to become spectacular heroes. so, just, I don’t know. is it really such a great surprise that I want to see it?

anyways, this was by far the longest of these answers and this post is really starting to wear on, so let’s just get to the last one and wrap this up.

5. losing his quirk would mean him falling hopelessly behind Deku, and playing second fiddle to him when he should be Deku’s equal. it would render his whole story and all of his development meaningless.

okay, listen. first of all, this argument often comes bundled with a whole host of other arguments about Bakugou’s relationship with Deku, and how the narrative has already given him numerous other “losses” to Deku, and how this would just be the latest and greatest loss of all. and I’m just going to say it straight up: this argument is ridiculous to me. actually, what it reminds me of is the very same flawed mindset that Bakugou himself has which I mentioned earlier (the forgotten point 4.a), where he is obsessed with comparing his progress to Deku’s at all times, and only considers himself a success if he beats out Deku. the idea here is basically that Bakugou and Deku are running along parallel tracks with the same end goal/finish line of becoming a hero. and so if Deku gets too far ahead and starts lapping Bakugou or something, then it’s like a slap in the face with regard to all of Bakugou’s hard work, and it makes Bakugou’s whole journey pointless because no matter what, he’ll never be able to catch up, especially if he loses his quirk, which is like the metaphorical equivalent of him spraining his ankle.

the thing is, this entire analogy is flawed. first of all, if Bakugou doesn’t sprain his ankle at some point, he'll miss out on discovering and healing a separate underlying injury that’s been unknowingly hampering his progress this entire time. and second, the race isn’t timed. it’s more like an infinite series of races where the finish line is never actually set in stone, because the finish line isn’t actually “beat the other person”; the finish line is “run as fast and as far as you possibly can, and do it in a better way than anyone has ever done before, and while you’re at it maybe stop and save a few million people, because being the best runner isn’t actually about being faster than each other, even though that admittedly makes this a pretty crappy analogy.” anyways though, so what this means is that the sheer magnitude and scale of this race is such that little victories and losses here and there are ultimately meaningless in the big picture. maybe Bakugou sprains his ankle. maybe Deku breaks an arm or two or three or four. maybe someone shows up at some point and starts uprooting the entire track all around them and they have to put the whole race aside for the time being, because what the fuck. and maybe after spraining his ankle, Bakugou eventually comes zooming back ahead on a segway. and maybe Deku stops running for a while without Bakugou there, because he loses sight of his goal without his rival there to keep him on pace.

but anyway! the point is that declaring a winner and loser in this race before we reach the end is kind of absurd in that it ignores the whole nature of the race and how long-term it is. you see the beauty of the race is that it’s actually the opposite of footraces in real life. in this race, the longer the two of them run, the faster and stronger they become. and this same logic applies to any hurdles which are placed in their lanes along the way. the goal of these hurdles isn’t to trick or punish or humiliate them; it’s to help them get even faster and stronger and ultimately closer to their goal. and also, tbh? it’s a long, long race you guys. and so sometimes, as a fan, you almost start to want to see those hurdles. because otherwise it’s just a lot of endless running and running and running. so yeah, go ahead and throw in a damn hurdle or two and some traffic cones and maybe even a long jump here and there. because that’s part of what makes the thing great to watch in the first place.

and I don’t care whether or not Deku is ahead right now, because I also love Deku too by the way, and because I’m not invested in prematurely declaring a winner. and if Bakugou himself gets upset that Deku is ahead? if Deku pulling ahead of him is enough to send him spiraling into despair, and questioning everything about his life, and losing hope and purpose? well then honestly I would say that’s all the more reason for him to go on and get that new character development, because I don’t want him to always be hindered by those kind of toxic thoughts his entire life. their rivalry should serve to make each other better, not bring each other down. so if Bakugou’s ego is still so fragile that he can’t handle a loss to Deku -- a loss, mind you, not the loss, because ultimately these are all just little battles, and not the actual war -- then I want him to grow the fuck up and get the fuck over that, goddammit. he’s a bigger person than that. I want him to grow beyond that. I want him to develop the real, actual confidence that allows him to bounce back from something like that, and to move on better and wiser and stronger, instead of getting dragged down by the pettiness of it all.

in short, if losing to Deku would really be enough to render his story meaningless, then maybe it’s time for Bakugou to find some meaning in his story that’s not dependent on him winning or losing to Deku. because I for one am not actually in this thing just to see which character “wins.” I couldn’t care less who actually wins. I just want to see my boy grow up big and strong and self-actualized, the better to kick ass without anything holding him back. that’s it.

so this brings me at last to the end of this seemingly neverending post. I have no doubt this won’t be the last of my quirkless!Bakugou debate posts in spite of me trying to comprehensively address every single point I could think of lol. but for now it’s my best attempt. and by the way, if it doesn’t actually happen, that’s fine! I love the idea, but I’m not gonna go full on “oh happy dagger” with it if it doesn’t actually pan out lol. the downside is it will mean that I’ve posted this entire 5600-word dissertation for nothing, but you know what, sometimes that’s just how fandom goes.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #quirkless!bakugou #bakugou meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks

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sebastianshaw · 3 years

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House of M fic

( @sammysdewysensitiveeyes @the-home-kvetch Toad has a cameo in the second section and Pyro in the third. They basically disappear after that, though, then reappear at the very end for a brief but heroic mention , so if you only want to read those parts I shan’t be offended! I read a lot of stuff only for my own faves and then tap out, lol! The Gai are not Marvel canon. I needed some Generic Alien Invaders, so that’s what I came up with!) “So, now that you’ve seen what A.I.M. can truly do. . . can I count on your continued support?” Dr. Monica Rappaccini knew that she had taken a big risk bring a civilian to their Australian base and revealing so much of their operation here. But this civilian, a Ms. Radha Dastoor, given the moniker “Haven” years ago for her good deeds, had the same goals as her---human liberation from the boot of mutantkind. And what set Haven apart from so many other “sapiens” who wished the same was her resources; the woman was ridiculously rich. She’d already been a generous donator to A.I.M’s more. . .legitimate faces, mainly concerning supplying disenfranchised human communities with medicine, clean water, and access to education. And some of her gifts had gone to these, as had been promised, but many had actually been funneled to A.I.M itself for its more. . .radical usage. Indeed, Monica was willing to bet a fair few pieces in this very facility were purchased indirectly by the unwitting Ms. Dastoor. But she wasn’t unwitting anymore. Monica’s agents had been easing her into more and more illicit aspects of their activism. While she didn’t seem ready to condone violence, she had expressed that she did not condemn it in an oppressed people either, just has she not condemned mutantkind for the same before the world’s tables had turned. Monica felt in this woman a kindred spirit, someone who wanted to even the balance, to help the helpless, and who, despite her pacifist demeanor, understood more deeply than she let on that breaking--or blowing up---a few eggs was a necessary ingredient in that omelette. She just couldn’t say so publicly, or the Red Guard would have her head in a second. Even her peaceful, benign activism surely had her on a few watchlists just because of how prominent she was. But here, she could speak freely. And Monica thought she knew what she would say. Monica thought wrong. Now, if Haven had had something affecting her mind, say a demonic entity of evil and chaos speaking to her at the most vulnerable moment of her life, Monica might have more than likely swayed her. But being in a stable mental state — “I am truly sorry, Dr. Rappaccini,” she said, and to her credit she did look it, “But I cannot be party to this methods. I understand the desperation that has driven you to them, and I even admire the---” “How can you say that?” Monica demanded, “After all I have shown you?!” “It is because you have shown me, Dr. Rappaccini, that I--” Haven was cut off again---this time by the klaxon alarm blaring throughout the building. ***

The Red Guard was storming the base. The technological hurdles had been considerable to get over, but once those were overcome by the tech division---S.H.I.E.L.D’S mutant technopaths helped considerably with that---the sheer physical power of the agents was practically bulldozing the poor A.I.M guards. Agent “Toad” Toynbee used his agility to spring off the walls and land on the agents shoulders, jumping from on to the other, knocking them off balance with each landing, allowing his fellow agents to hit them while they were distracted. His comrade and friend Agent “Nightcrawler” Darkholme used his teleportation to scout ahead, Agent “Marrow” Rushman punctured organs and blocked guns by firing bone spikes right up the weaponry barrels, while Agent “Rogue” Darkholme and Agent “Diamond Lil” Crawley simply barreled and brawled their way through every body in their path like the bruisers they were. “Too easy!” Crawley bragged as she slugged one of the guards, who had practically been propelled into her fist by the thrust of Toad’s feet. “Precisely”, concurred Director Shaw gruffly, and he grabbed the nearest scientist before the cowering woman could flee. They were deep in enough that the brains the operation were starting to be sighted between the garish yellow A.I.M. suits. And unlike those suits, the white coats over office casual clothes worn by the scientists exposed skin. Just hands and faces, the occasional legs from beneath a mid-length sensible skirt, but that was more than enough. “Agent Darkholme,” he said, and though he did not specify WHICH Darkholme he meant, Rogue knew it was her. She removed a glove and brushed a single finger against the woman’s whimpering face for the briefest of moments. If Shaw wasn’t telling her to dig deep, that meant she didn’t have to, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to go sucking someone’s whole psyche into hers just for fun. But she got enough to confirm what Shaw was suspecting---a trap. “We gotta get out, y’all!” she exclaimed, the whites of her eyes widening, “If someone gets past the guards, there’s orders to blow the place to kingdom co---” *** The clearing that had once been green and dotted with trees was now scorched black, dotted with flaming wreckage of what had once been the AIM base and the bloodied, moaning remains of what had once been its members. “Save any survivors you can!” Shaw barked, “We need them for interrogation! And Allerdyce, get out here and get the fires under control! This is potoroo country!” Shaw, Rogue, and Crawley all possessed mutations that allowed them to survive the blast, allowing Nightcrawler to only need to get Toad, Marrow, and Pyro out, which he could do in one trip, albeit an exhausting one, and on to the safety of their jet. Thus, they were all safe, though Darkholme was winded and done for the day. Hearing Shaw’s command over his earpiece, Agent St. John “Pyro” Allerdyce made a swift thanks to his teammate and ran out to push the flames back from touching the rest of the forest. Potoroos were a protected species, and their safety was of utmost importance in the House of M! Meanwhile, Rogue and Crawley dug through the wreckage, the former tossing car-sized hunks of metal aside like pillows and the latter just punching a path through it, as Marrow pinned down anyone who attempted to flee using bone spears---through their clothes, since Shaw insisted on them alive—and Toad tripped them up with his tongue before pulling them back so their leader could place them in cuffs. “That’s all of them!” the amphibious mutant proclaimed proudly as the last yellow-suited AIM member—the last MOVING one, anyway---was hauled into the jet. “Clear out then” Shaw ordered, surveying the scene a final time. Something caught his eye. “Wait---Allerdyce! Those flames there, in the center---get them somewhere else, there’s someone caught in the center!” “Get them somewhere else, he says, like I can just freaking teleport them or some shit,” Pyro muttered, but he cleared the flames, revealing indeed something who had been surrounded by them. It was a wonder that her long hair and salwar kameez---yes, Pyro know the term for it, thank you---hadn’t been caught alight, but more miraculous by far was the way the wreckage encased her in such a way that she had been protected from harm. She just also couldn’t get out. Not on her own, anyway. Shaw strode towards her, flanked by the flames that Pyro had pushed aside Moses-style. He took the cage apart carefully, knowing that pulling out the wrong piece could bring the whole thing crashing down on the woman inside. It wouldn’t have mattered much to him if this had just been another AIM flunkie; they had more than enough for the Psy Division to scan for intel. But this woman. . . he recognized her, and he didn’t know what she was doing here---though he had a hunch---and he wasn’t about to let her be hurt. Not until he had the full story. “Don’t try anything, dirtbag!” Marrow hollered, coming to Shaw’s side as the last of the metal prison was removed from the soon-to-be prisoner, bones ready to hurl should she make one move that the mutants didn’t like. “That won’t be necessary, Agent Rushman,” said Shaw calmly, not looking away from the woman, to whom he reached out a hand, “Can you stand? Please, let me help you. There we are. Lean on me. We’ll have you treated for any injuries immediately. And. . . Radha Dastoor, it is my duty to inform you, that you are under arrest.” *** The AIM prisoners had been brought in, read their rights---such as their were---and the charges brought against them, given their prison jumpsuits, and put in holding awaiting prosecution after the Psi Division got through them. That was what counted for interrogation these days. The crude, ineffective ways of sapien grilling and guesswork were over. But Director Shaw still speaking with one of them personally. Just one. “Our telepaths confirm your story, Ms. Dastoor,” he said. The pair of them were seated on either side of a table. Shaw was still in his uniform. . . Haven, in her newly issued one. Orange was a good color on her, though perhaps not fitting in this amount. She was cuffed as per protocol, and while Shaw did things by the book, his eye twitched slightly at the sheer absurdity of it. But he did not remove them. He didn’t get where he was by making exceptions. “We know you were not knowingly in league with Dr. Rappaccini,” he continued, “But we also know that you did knowingly aid and abet several illicit activities.” “Yes,” Haven replied calmly, with neither coldness nor defiance, but nor any submission or remorse, “I did.” It was matter of fact, and perfectly polite. “Your forthcomingness strengthens the decision I’ve made,” he said, his own voice also matter of fact, though his was more frank and detached, “To advocate for leniency in your case. You have been cooperative, you have denied nothing---as some people do even when faced with their own memories as evidence---and, as noted, you were not involved in Rappaccini or AIM’s terrorist activities. Your crimes, rather, have been more along the lines of providing funds, food, and medicines to, say, illegal protestors. Given your history, I am inclined to believe you will not escalate to more extreme measures, and should not be considered a public threat.” “I appreciate that, Director Shaw.” “It’s not a gift, Ms. Dastoor. Merely my professional opinion.” “Nonetheless, I do.” “I do have to ask you now, because you will be asked on the stand---once you have served your time and are duly released, will you cease in all such activities?” “No, Director Shaw.” There was a long, grim silence. “Ms. Dastoor, I cannot give you my recommendation for a reduced sentence if I believe that you will re-offend.” “It would be very disrespectful of me to lie to you now, Director Shaw, just to help myself, after you have shown me such goodwill.” “There will be no goodwill, Ms. Dastoor, if you do not.” The conversation didn’t last long after that. He soon escorted her back to her cell. A private one, to protect her from the AIM prisoners. “You can ask the guards from anything within reason and it will be provided to you if possible. if you feel you have been mistreated in any way, get word to me and something will be done about it if your claim proves true. Shaw wasn’t bending any rules for her. None of this was outside the law, or even a gray area. It just wasn’t something he had ever told any prisoner short of the occasional foreign royal who had fucked up but still had to be handled with care to avoid political disaster. As Haven started to thank him for the courtesy, an alarmed voice called over the intercom, ”Director Shaw---the AIM prisoners! They’re all dead!” *** The one person that hadn’t been recovered from the base was the real prize---Monica Rappaccini herself. The assumption of SHIELD was that she had escaped before setting off the blast; the idea she’d simply been blown to pieces was too optimistic. In fact, neither was the case. Monica had a much safer plan than escaping the building---she’d stayed in it. More specifically, in a blast-proof container specifically survived to withstand it, which dropped down a shoot far underground where the bomb wouldn’t reach it anyway, and she wouldn’t be found by the accursed Red Guard. The fools---they hadn’t brought a psychic to sweep for any minds missing, but it wouldn’t have mattered, the tech was telepath-proof too. If only they could do that for the entire place, but alas, it was difficult, tricky, tended to only work on a small scale. But that was enough for her. Once the danger had passed, Monica emerged and got in contact with her best agent---Thasanee Rapaccini, aka the Scorpion. Monica’s daughter. In another world, her name was Carmilla Black and she worked for SHIELD, against her own mother! But in this world, Monica had raised her, and raised her well. She was a (mostly, usually, except for a hiccup) loyal agent to AIM and mommy dearest, and she wanted to see the mutant tyranny she’d grown up under fall as much as Monica did. But, like all teenagers, she could be a bit rebellions. Like questioning her mother. Something Monica would never have allowed her to do and survive if she hadn’t been her own preciously bio-engineered flesh and blood. ”Is that really necessary, mother?” Thasanee asked when given her new mission, ”They’ve already psy-scanned all the agents by now for sure anyway. What are they going to get from that lady’s mouth that they didn’t get from our guy’s brains?” ”It’s not about containing information,” Monica explained, ”It’s about public opinion. Haven can do more damage to us now than Magneto himself. She’s well-respected by the rest of the humans rights activist movement and even by many mutants. If she publicly denounces our cause, it will rob us of countless new recruits, funding, everything. She’s the most dangerous threat of all---a moderate. Do you see now? They’ll offer her a deal--leniency for collaborating with us, so long as she denounces A.I.M and everything we stand for. And people, even those who share our goals, our beliefs, will listen.” ”You really think she would?” Thasanee asked “I mean, all that good stuff she did for humans. . . maybe she’s just not cut out for our work. You’ve said yourself not everyone is. But that doesn’t mean she’d hang us out to dry.” ”I wish I had your faith in people,” Monica sighed, and it was true. She certainly wished she could be certain that Radha Dastoor wouldn’t do exactly that. But, she’d been so sure that Haven, who shared her cause, would join her and begin providing direct funding, and she couldn’t have been more wrong about that. So she couldn’t take a chance on Radha here either. ”And listen,” Thasanee continued, “If you’re worried about us looking bad, won’t we look WORSE if we kill her? I think that’s what REALLY would get people mad at us! Our own allies too! ”Thasanee,” Monica’s voice turned sweet, cajoling, truly motherly, as she put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and looked loving into the girl’s green eyes, ”My beloved child. I know this is difficult to understand. But Radha Dastoor dying mysteriously while in S.H.I.E.L.D custody would be very, very good for our cause. A peaceful activist, a nonviolent offender, a model moderate. . .and after her arrest by the Red Guard, who claim such a person was in cahoots with a terrorist organization, she dies while in their hands, and they try to blame that same organization? My dear. . .connect the dots the way the Average Joe would, and see what conclusion it brings you. The kind that makes the opposition look like the monsters we know they are.” Thasanee was a clever child, and she clearly got exactly what her mother was saying. Her conflict was clear on her face, her lip twisting in thought, her eyes flitting doubtfully downwards. But she reached the right answer, as Monica knew she would. ”I’ll do it, mother. You can count on me.” *** ”So what happened to them?” Jessica Drew asked as Agent Darkholme---Mystique, who had not been on the earlier mission---returned from attending to the matter of the AIM agents dropping dead. ”Chemical implant,” Mystique replied, “Rappaccini must have put it in them when they joined up with AIM. Probably to “motivate” them if they ever get cold feet. Or, in this case, fail her by getting captured.” ”G’awful way t’go,” Rogue shuddered. Whenever she had any doubts about what the Red Guard did, people like AIM reminded her who the good guys were. ”What I wanna know,” said Agent Crawley, “is who is this Dastoor broad, that she gets the royal treatment from Sebastian Stick-Up-His-Ass Shaw?” ”No idea,” Rogue said, putting her cooling coffee to her lips. “Before your time, daughter,” Mystique explained, ”Back when mutants were actively oppressed by humanity, before the rise of Emperor Magnus, Radha “Haven” Dastoor was one of the few sapiens on our side.” ”Our side?” Rogue looked intrigued. ”A sapien?” Crawley looked doubtful. ”Oh, she didn’t go all out for us, not by a long shot,” Mystique scoffed, “Don’t get the wrong idea---she was a peaceful protester. Didn’t get anything done. But. . .she did reach a lot of her own kind, or try. And ran with a very upscale crowd, so there was. . . influence, I suppose. Ran some shelters and such.” The blue-skinned woman sniffed slightly, torn between wanting to give credit where credit was due, but also not wanting to oversell the woman as a saint when she’d barely done the bare minimum in Raven’s view. ”Anyway. Now that the tables have turned, so has she. She’s all about her OWN kind’s rights now. As if things are as bad for them as it was for us. Ha! Not even on our best day back then, were we ever treated with the grace that Magnus has granted THEM. But trust a human to not even be able to stomach a DILUTED taste of their own medicine. She shrugged her azure shoulders, “But since Director Shaw is old enough to remember her work---such as it was---I suppose he thinks she’s earned some professional courtesy. And he is, after all, nothing if not professional.” *** As promised, Haven was well treated while she was held at the Australian S.H.I.E.L.D base. She would be taken to Genosha to stand trial tomorrow, but in the meantime. . . In the meantime, Thasanee Rappaccini had spent all evening infiltrating the base successfully without setting off any alarm to her presence. It was no mean feat, as one might imagine, but she had been trained for this from birth. Not infiltration specifically, but anything and everything relevant to taking down Magnus’s mutant-supremascist empire. And, much like how many unlucky souls never noticed a scorpion in their shoe before it was too late, this Scorpion had creeped in subtle as a shadow, unheard and unseen and undetected by man, mutant, or machine. And now. . .now she had a clear shot with her Stinger, as she called her left arm from which she fired energy bolts containing concentrated toxins. Like the Rappccini’s daughter of myth, Thasanee was literally poisonous. Yeah, she was pretty sure her mother hadn’t been born with that surname. Haven didn’t even notice as the slim girl slid into the room. She was busy tending to a flower in a pot, to Thasanee’s surprise. Who had given her that? Scorpion had expected to find the captive in chains, not--- BOOM! CRASH! The entire base rocked as Scorpion’s eardrums rang, and it wasn’t just shock that made it difficult for her to keep her balance. Thas had a clear shot, not for any gun but her Stinger; the name she had given her left arm, from which she fired the accumulation of toxins and poisons her naturally immune body stored in her left lymph node. Then crash that rattled entire base. A klaxon began to sound, reminding her unpleasantly of the one that had blared throughout the AIM base before its destruction. Yells, shouts, and more smashes reached her ears through the alarm as well. Thasanee had just enough time to wonder if her mother had sent Adaptoids to attack the place before one of the hulking culprits burst through the wall, sending Thasanee leaping into the hiding among the dust and debris; she could hear Haven cough from the same, but, she noted, the woman never screamed. Odd. Maybe she was too petrified too. She’d seemed like such a refined ladylike priss, Thas would have thought--- The Gai. That’s what was causing all this. Thas had encountered them a few times before. They were alien invaders, huge and monstrous, looked part insect and part reptile with a turtle-like shell from which their six limbs extended. Some wore additional hi-tech battle armor but this one was bare. All of them were the same thought; they didn’t care who they killed, only that they killed everyone. Human or mutant, warrior or prisoner, all Earthlings were the same to them. Something to be wiped out. Why, no one knew yet; telepaths couldn’t get in their heads and they were seldom in the mood to talk, though Haven seemed to be trying as the beast advanced. Thas was about to--- BONK! It was an almost comical sound, followed by a crack, as the force from Director Shaw’s fist collided with the stone-like shell of the Gai and, a moment after impact, splintered it. Where did he come from?! Scorpion wondered, then saw he must have rushed in after it through the hole it left, then leaped on to its back to strike his blow. And then another. And another. He was hitting it with every step he made over its back, but once he got to its head, it tossed him like a rodeo rider being thrown from a bull before he could punch its ugly skull in. Scorpion wasn’t sure who she was rooting for. Shaw was launched into the bars of Haven’s cell, and they bent in under the force of his indestructible body like overcooked noodles. Haven, luckily for her, had moved out of the way, and he wasted no time getting in front of her as the Gai advanced. Scorpion wasn’t sure how smart the Gai were--no one knew if they were sapient beings or merely mindless drones sent down to fight by a greater intelligence---but she for one thought it must be thinking how convenient it was that Shaw had taken down this obstacle for it. Until he wrenched off the end of a bar and impaled it through the Gai’s bulbous multifaceted left eye. However alien this creature might be, it had a commonality with most beings on Earth, which was that getting a long sharp metal rod jammed into your skull was an unpleasant sensation, and the Gai responded in kind, reeling back and . . .shrieking? Scorpion wasn’t sure that was the right word for it. She wasn’t sure there was a word to describe it. Like all the sound files in the world glitching at once. She had to cover her ears, but Shaw was apparently part deaf---it was the only explanation---because he didn’t even pause as he grabbed Haven and ran. Scorpion was fairly sure he didn’t see her on the way out though; the Director clearly had bigger things on his mind. Like the Gai, which was more dangerous than ever as it thrashed around in pain. Scorpion supposed to humane thing was to put it out of its misery. . . not to mention, it’d be valuable to know how susceptible they were to poison. . . But she had a target already, and it had just breezed by her in a bright orange jumpsuit. No time for mercy kills; Scorpion followed them. She didn’t notice who was following her too. *** Shaw lead Haven at a rapid pace through the sleek corporate-esque hallways of the building, which were even more rapidly being destroyed. They dodged the claws of more Gai, huge chunks of falling walls and ceilings, sprays of crumbling dust that she might inhale. . . or rather, Shaw dodged the claws and dragged Haven with him, shielded her with his force-absorbing body from the falling walls and ceilings, and commanded her to hold her breath through the crumbling dust from the destruction. He faced a few more Gai on the way out, and while hurting them was easy once they provided him with enough energy, keeping Haven safe---his priority---was difficult to do in tandem. But Shaw was professional, and Shaw was experienced, and Shaw not only got her out alive, she didn’t have a scratch on her. “Everyone good?” he said into his ear piece as he steered Haven towards the door that would lead them out at last. In addition to guarding her, he’d been guiding the Red Guard and the rest of the personnel as best he could over the communicator. “I’m getting the prisoner secured, after that we can---hello?! Over?! Over?!” The line had gone dead. It could be an accident during the destruction. But Shaw wasn’t sure about that. He’d figure it out soon. Getting Radha Dastoor to safety came first though. And he believed he had succeeded. They made it out the front doors, to the jet, into the jet--- And then Shaw cried out and fell to the floor, green toxic energy crackling around him. Not the kind he could absorb, either----it was pure concentrated poison. Scorpion stepped out of the shadows. “Took you long enough, old man,” she said, “I made it out way sooner. Of course. . .” Her eyes traveled to Haven, her real target. “. . .I didn’t have a load to carry. You must be tired from that; please, don’t get up.” She fired another blast into Shaw, who had been rising to his feet, despite the fact the first should have been enough to kill him. Haven cried out this time in front of Shaw, throwing herself in front of his fallen form, begging Thasanee to stop. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to you,” Scorpion assured her, “But before I do, I want to know one thing from him.” She addressed Shaw again, “Why has a mutant fascist pig like you been risking your life to defend a human? I saw you in there. You protected her. Why? Is it because of what she used to do for you guys? Has she been a double agent all along? Is she really a mutant?”

“Because. . . “ Shaw croaked, using all the strength he had left just to lift his head as Haven knelt down beside him, “She. . . is the State’s prisoner. And I. . . am a representive of the State. Of SHIELD. Of Emperor Magnus. It is my duty. . .to protect those in our custody.” He took a moment to breathe, and then continued, less labored this time, but still unable to do more than speak. “I find her activism sentimental soft-minded tripe, and I will see her stand trial for the parts of it that break the law---but I shall NOT see her harmed while she is still my responsibility. Not by the Gai, and nor by YOU.” “Wow,” Scorpion said, and she was genuinely impressed, “Ok, so----I don’t take back that you’re a mutant fascist pig, but you’re a mutant fascist pig with some honor. Not gonna lie---I’m surprised. Enough that I’ll let you in one something before you die---I’m not going to kill her.” Both Shaw and Haven looked shocked. “Yeah,” Scorpion said, and answered the question she knew they must have, “My mom wants her dead, and I was sent to do that, but like. . .I’m just going to fake her death, get her out of here, set her up somewhere. That way--” She turned her gaze specifically to Haven, “That way, you can’t denounce us---if that was ever even your plan---without A.I.M knowing you’re alive and killing you for real, so you won’t, right? And I don’t have to kill you for something you haven’t even done, and maybe were never going to. Everybody wins. I mean, except grandpa there, but I count wiping out one more SHIELD fucker---the Director, no less!---a win. Talk about cutting the head from the snake; he’s one step from Emperor Magnus himself!” “I wish I could be proud of you for this, daughter.” As if she had teleported, Monica Rappapccini appeared before her daughter. Who, judging by her reaction, had NOT been expecting this. ”Invisibility device,” Monica tapped a metal bracelet on her wrist, “I’ve been by your side this whole time. And you were doing so well, too. . . .up until now.” She sighed, “I know adolescence is a time to question authority but you have to follow orders even if you find them difficult. That’s really more what this has been than anything---a test to see how far out of line you’ve fallen. The scientist in me, always having to test a hypothesis before I consider it proven. “ “Well, consider it proven, Mom!” Thasanee barked back, her feelings akin to how a normal teenager might react to finding out her parent had been in her room, “Now what! Going to kill ME too?” “Don’t be silly, you’re far too valuable,” Monica tssked, “As are these two as hostages. Dastoor for her money, Shaw for his political worth to the House of Magnus and SHIELD---much as I truly would love to slaughter him in so many ways. Indeed, I think I might just do that anyway once he’s served his purpose. He deserves it. Do you know how many people he has---” And that was when Exodus, Toad, and Pyro teleported onboard and saved the day. They made short work of Dr. Rappaccini, but alas, Scorpion got away. Shaw made a full recovery after receiving medical aid. And Ms. Dastoor awaits trial for her crimes.

#fic #writing #house of m #hom fic

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neon-junkie · 4 years

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Perdona que te lo deba decir de esta manera

Summary: In Flaco's final moments, he writes a letter for you.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1978

Rating and warning: NSFW (gore and character death)

Tags: Death, Grief, Mourning, Revenge, Love letters, Love confession.

Notes: you know when you enter Flaco's cabin in story mode, and there's a load of letters on his desk? yeah, this fic was based simply around that lol. This writing is a lil scruffy btw but meh, you get the idea. Thank you to @bye-bi-bitches for translating the title for me xx

It's time for your bi-weekly Flaco visit, trudging up the thick snow to see the somewhat retired gunslinger. At first, you traveled up that way just for work, but time and time again you found yourself accidentally riding up there, not for the money, but for Flaco himself. He definitely has a few screws loose, and that wild personality and borderline cocky attitude makes your heart thump in your chest. He's not as old as he makes himself out to be, as you've yet to notice any grey hairs on him, despite his constant moans that he's turning grey. Truth be told, you'd do anything he asks, even if he asked you to strip your clothing and roll in the snow, though you hope he'd warm you up himself afterward. But today, something feels off. The air isn't sitting right, your horse seems constantly spooked, and the elk that pass by you look at you with hollow eyes. It almost feels as if you're being watched, though you know nobody is nearby, or at least, nobody you can see. You can feel a presence in the air, but despite the creepy nature of your journey, your heart remains warm at the thought of seeing Flaco again.

Maybe today was the day you finally confess how you felt, though you're certain he already knows this. He's made a handful of flirtatious comments towards you, even outright telling you he's seen the way you look at him. If this man didn't feel the same way, and he was only doing all this to be a tease, then not only will your heart break, but you'll swear off falling for anybody ever again. Nobody will ever make you feel the way Flaco makes you feel. You finally come over the little hill that dips down to Carin Lake and the first thing you notice is red. Blood has been shed, and his men are covered in it, lying in the snow with their own pool surrounding them. Your eyes flick over to the cabin and- oh, oh god, please no. With a kick of your spurs, your horse bolts down the hill, their hooves thudding against the ice, nickering as you tug on the reins a little too harsh and bring them to a halt. Tears have already begun to fall from your eyes, but the floodgates burst open as you see the horror that has been left for you. Flaco lays on his back, dead, with bullet holes deep in his chest. His eyes are shut, and for once, he isn't scowling. He seems bittersweetly peaceful; at least one of you seems relaxed. You practically jump from your horse, collapsing onto your knees as you mourn him, taking his cold hand in yours as you rest against his chest. He's not been gone for long, as his skin is still cold but his body isn't frozen. You cry into him, face buried into his thick fur coat. You pray that he'll wrap his arms around you any minute now, just like how he did when you broke down in front of him that one time. He let you cry into his chest, cradling you as he hushed you. He spent the evening listening to your worries, eventually cuddling you to sleep as your tears had drained all the energy from you. Flaco's not coming back and you have to accept that. He's gone. The terror of the Grizzlies lies dead before you, his hand on your lap as you mourn for him. You finally lift your head from him, your eyes flicking up to the sun as she begins to set behind the mountains. Curse whatever was in the sky that allowed this to happen, and curse whoever did this to him. He may be an outlaw, a gunslinger, a man on the run, but you'd never met someone with such loving eyes, such gentle hands, and such a way with words. If only you had confessed your feelings a little sooner, maybe he wouldn't be lying dead beneath you. You shake your head, not allowing your thoughts to try and convince you that this was your fault. It isn't, and you promise you'll get revenge. Finally, you stand, taking deep breaths as a few final tears find their escape. Burying is a hard option with all this snow, so you decide to rest Flaco a different way. You enter his cabin, propping open the door with a crate as you look around one last time. Your eyes fall onto his chair and you can picture him in it now, leaning back against it with that smug grin on his face as he tells you what your job is for the day. There were so many opportunities where you could have simply sat on his lap, a bold move for you, but Flaco's eyes would have lit up as he pulled you onto him more. You shake your head again, trying to not cloud your thoughts with things that could have been. This is where you are, this is the life that the Gods have given you, and it's about time you took your own path into your hands to prevent anything like this from happening again. You take a look around, something that you've done subtly before, but now you finally had the chance to study where Flaco had been living for all these months. His bed looks untouched, duvet folded neatly over it, the exact way you folded it when you rested here last. The fire has only recently died out, a sight you thought you'd never see as Flaco always kept it going. The table by his chair is ready to collapse, with so many holes and scratch marks dug into it from where his knife had stabbed it time and time again. What's this? You've never seen the small stack of letters on Flaco's table before. The handwriting is a little scruffy, as if the person writing it was rushing. Your eyes flick to the top and your stomach drops as you see your name written there. It's a letter from Flaco. 'Dear ___, My most trusted employee, as I once called you, only I know I will never be able to speak to you again. If you're reading this, it means I'm gone. I only know that because if I survive, I'll tell you this myself and throw this letter into the fire before you get here. I can hear gunshots from my men outside, and something in my gut tells me that I won't live to see the outcome of this. I pray this letter finds you, as my dying wish. I'm such a fool for not telling you this sooner, I missed so many opportunities where I could have, but I feared that you'd never want to waste your years with me - a retired gunslinger who's been forgotten about by the world. The only thing that seemed to remember me was the bears waiting outside my cabin, but you waltzed in one day and it seems that finally, somebody began to remember me. I thought you were nothing more than a stranger looking for work at first, and though I was tempted to have you with that pretty face of yours, I didn't want to scare you off. You came back, time and time again, and although you used the excuse of looking for work, I knew you were looking for my company. I'm glad you were, because I yearned for yours. I've had far too many sleepless nights thinking about you, praying you'd return to me, waiting up till the early hours in hopes of hearing your horses' hooves trot over the ice. Like I said, I'm a fool for not telling you this sooner. I can't believe I'm having to write a letter, it should be me telling you this, not this piece of paper. Amor, I can't describe how I feel about you, though I know you feel the same. I wish I could have spent my final years with you in my arms, but it seems my years have been cut short by this cabrón knocking at my door. He's shouting at me to come out again, so I guess I must. Perdona que te lo deba decir de esta manera - sorry that I should tell you this way. I hope that we find each other in another life, and this time, I'll finally have the cajones to tell you how I feel. Forever yours, even in death - Flaco Hernández' The tears continue to flow, and your stomach feels like it's about to throw your dinner up any second now. You take a seat in his chair, sobbing into your hands as you cry on the table. You were both fools for not admitting it sooner, but at least you know now that he feels the same way - all those tender looks and gentle touches meant something, and you treasure them even more now you know the feelings behind them. You take your time, mourning even more. You pray that today wasn't going to get any worse, though you're pretty certain you're at the very bottom of this hell pit. Once you feel somewhat stable enough, you stand, tucking Flaco's letter into your inner coat pocket, the one sewn beside your heart. It takes a lot of strength to drag Flaco's corpse into his cabin, resting him in the center. Though you feel a little odd looting his weapons, you know he would have gifted them to you if he saw you in his final moments. His knife is far too big for you, barely fitting in your belt as you sheath it. The bastard that murdered him had the nerve to loot his custom revolver, his most prized possession. He's told you many stories about the adventures he's had with that gun, purchasing it from a young age, and taking care of it ever since. You swear you'll find it and shoot the bastard that murdered Flaco with it. His sawn-off shotgun is in his other holster. Though it's not customized, it has his initials carved neatly into the grip. You remove one of your guns as you stand, holstering Flacos shotgun and placing your other gun into your horses saddlebags, making sure the safety lock was turned on. You remove enough bottles of liquor to kill a man and return to the cabin. After removing Flacos bandoliers and equipping them yourself, along with his belt, you place his duvet over his body, placing a kiss to his forehead as you say your goodbyes. You coat his cabin in alcohol, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to do. His men get the same treatment, placing their blankets over them respectfully as you cover their camp. Flaco's sombrero comes into your line of sight. You remove your current hat and place his on, though it's a little big for you. Your hat is placed into your horses saddlebags before you mount them. Once you're stood far enough from the mess, you equip your bow, setting the arrow alight and firing it at Flaco's cabin. The building bursts into flames, your horse whaling and stamping their feet in fear, though you calm them and back them up a little bit more. Another fire arrow meets his men's camp, and you watch for a minute as everything you love burns, falling apart in front of your eyes. Finally, you turn and leave, looking over your shoulder one last time as you cross that hill. You swear that you'll find the bastard that did this, you swear it on your own life, and it seems you're in luck, as horse tracks appear as you approach Colter. Of course, you follow them, ready to interrogate the stranger that it leads to.

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second-chance-stray · 3 years

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RP Log: Bertram helps Cravs with a bug problem. They meet each other, but fail to connect the dots...

Cravendy Hound pants heavily as she BOOKS it, sprinting away from a swarm of bugs and microchus that nip at her heels. She hadn’t even been doing anything prior - just going on a walk by the stream. Just enjoying the crisp, cool air. But it would seem that the elementals had had enough of her target practice, and now the woods don’t seem as peaceful as they were in the past.

Bertram Windshadow had been attempting to do the very same with his own time on this particular day. There were always a myriad of things upon his mind these days. It did him good to simply step out and move without particular direction and unrestrained pace. Wherever to the wind lead him. That is, of course, until he spied a roegadyn woman being harried by the denizens of the Black Shroud. 1/2

Bertram Windshadow came to a stop within the canopy of a moderately sized tree before dropping down to the forest floor so that he could get a better assessment of the situation. He wasn't about to leave someone in trouble . .. in trouble. 2/2

Cravendy Hound stretches her arm back, aims her gun at her pursuers, and fires a couple of rounds. Some of the shots hit microchus, splitting them from the mob momentarily...though, with every one that was dispatched, two would spring from the bushes and take its place. Meanwhile, for the bugs, I simply present to you this question...have you ever fired a gun at a housefly? Would that work? The answer is no. No, it would not work.

Cravendy Hound: “Godsdamned, bleedin’ flyin’ pieces of shite! Overgrown spinach!” Cravs swats at the air as bugs relentlessly buzz around her. In an attempt to get them off her back, she jumps off the side of the cliff and into the river...however, she misjudges the depth of her target. It’s much too shallow to keep the bugs away from her. And now, she’s drenched AND annoyed.

Bertram Windshadow watches quietly for a moment as the stranger attempts to ward off the pests with her firearm. An attempt that causes the highlander to wince slightly just before she plunges herself into the drink . .. well, at least as much as she could manage in the relative shallowness. 1/3

Bertram Windshadow could only assume that the single-minded focus of these creatures could only come from one place. She'd done something to annoy the Elementals. Not enough to rouse them to outright *anger*, but . .. enough to peeve them. It was an easy mistake to make and Bertram figured they'd more than learned the lesson no need for further assault. 2/3

Bertram Windshadow reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a small orb. With a firm press, and a quiet click, it began belching out a stream of smoke or fog. The man then quickly rolled it in the direction of Cravendy in the hopes of helping disperse the swarm of bugs! 3/3

(Cravendy Hound) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnHmskwqCCQ )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( *dies* This was what was *exactly* what was playing in my heat. ))

Cravendy Hound is too busy swatting away the bugs and plant monsters to notice the source of the sudden smoke, so she thinks it’s the Elementals toying with her further. Her confusion serves to make her even angrier. “If yer gonna kill me, just do it an’ be done with it!” What follows is a long-winded, story of a swear that ends with a coughing fit.

Cravendy Hound - The smoke, meanwhile, does disperse the bugs. They now hover at the edges of where the cloud stops. You can’t see through it, though you can certainly hear all sorts of things happening beneath its foggy exterior.

Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly and makes his way forward at a slightly accelerated pace, breaking his way into the opaque cloud and speaking so that he can make his presence known. "I don't think you're going to get killed today, stranger, but we should probably get you closer to Gridania ..." He calls out before attempting to reach out and touch Cravendy's arm to let her know where he is.

Cravendy Hound: “Who, in the name of Llymlaen’s left teat, are you?!” Upon being touched, she instinctively aims her gun right at Bertram, and then glances to the side. “Behind ye!”

Cravendy Hound - Her aim shifts ever so slightly, from being pointed at Bertram’s forehead to something else entirely. The shot rings out, wind brushing dangerously close to his ear, and then sinks directly into a microchu that had been sneaking up behind them. “Gods, ye...let’s get out of ‘ere.”

Bertram Windshadow winces visibly -- or invisibly given the current circumstances -- at the sound of the gunshot so close to his ear. The ear on that side of his head was nothing but ringing in the moment and he could barely make out the latter half of her speaking. My this woman was an aggressive one. Some dots were starting to connect regarding the Shrouds current state of upset. 1/2

Bertram Windshadow called out in a voice slightly louder than necessary, "Let's get out of here," he echoes her sentiment without realizing it. "They're just going to keep coming if you fight them like that." 2/2

Cravendy Hound nods. She had no desire to let the ‘friendly, forest friends’ have their way for any longer. “Gridania’s a tad far...But Hyrstmill’s just a rock skip away. Let’s find a ‘ovel to ‘ole in and be done with this.”

Bertram Windshadow has to strain to hear the suggestion, but he calls out with an affirmative sound before reaching in to the same pouch again to remove another sphere. With a 'click' the smoke begins to spew and he pivots on a heel to face the direction of the small outpost. As he does he throws his arm back and then swings it forward; throwing the smoke-spewing orb like a bowling ball. In its path it leaves a trail of smoke. "That'll hopefully then thin the herd and give us an opening!"

Cravendy Hound stares curiously at the orb, and then back to Bertram. It clicks in her mind. The smoke? Not the Elementals. This guy. This...stranger, who happens to have smoke-spewing orbs in his possession. Questions would have to wait until after they weren’t being hounded by angry flies and grass. She makes a break for Hrystmill, coughing all the while.

Bertram Windshadow set his pace to match Cravendy's as he kept himself in her wake. He felt compelled to keep an eye out for anything that might lunge at the woman while she was making a break for it. This wasn't exactly what he was expecting to do with his day but it certainly beat being stuck in his own head. "Just keep running they'll break off eventually!"

(Cravendy Hound) LOL I'm seeing an unintentional, but reoccuring theme...in an earlier rp, cravs sucked in a feather and had a coughing fit. After this, she's gonna be super hoarse xD )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( Hahaha! It helps in sounding grumpy!! )) (Cravendy Hound) let's move to hrystmill! :3 )) (Cravendy Hound) LOL 6-pack a day scratchy voice. "WATER..." ))

Cravendy Hound - As they run, they can hear, but not see, the monsters pursuing close behind. But eventually, as Hrystmill comes into view, the noise grows fainter and fainter. In reclaimed silence, the sound of hearts pounding and panting breaths come back to the forefront. Cravs lets out a long groan and falls to the ground in a kneel. She beats the dirt twice with her fist, gets back up, and faces Bertram. She has no idea what to say.

Cravendy Hound: “.................So. That ‘appened.”

Bertram Windshadow eases as the sound of pursuit fades a quiet breath draining from his lungs as he finally gives himself a moment to glance over his shoulder. It hadn't seemed like they were in *mortal* danger, but it was hard to say when an elemental would decide to be a little extra cranky at any given moment. He dusted his hands off on his legs as he shifted his attention back to Cravendy. "Sure did ..." he answered, allowing himself a quiet laugh before bobbing his head to the side.

Bertram Windshadow: "I hope they didn't get any nasty bites in ..."

Cravendy Hound: “Couple of bruises and scratches, but nothin’ major. Gods, first dodos, now bugs and bloodthirsty flowers.” She lets out a long sigh. The world was conspiring against her, which...well, was fair, as she had a lot to answer for. But she wondered, why now? Why not before, or later? One thing is for sure, though. She’s thankful that this stranger was here to help out.

Cravendy Hound sizes up Bertram. He looks kind of familiar, but she shelves that feeling off to the side. “Thanks for ‘elping out. I’m Cravs. And ye are?”

(Bertram Windshadow) (( Would Bertram know that nickname? I don't *think* he would, but I figured I'd check before having him be oblivious, hahaha (Cravendy Hound) hmm I mean, she refers to herself as such, but idk if others would to her?? haha )) (Cravendy Hound) up to you really :P )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( I think Lin has only said Cravendy to him! So I don't think he'd make the immediate connection! Not yet anyway! ))

Bertram Windshadow bobs his head to the side slightly, "I can't pretend to know *why* but I think you did something to upset the elementals," he offered quietly as he finished dusting himself off and glancing around Hyrstmill, ". .. they can be a bit sensitive about how you treat the forest." He pauses for a moment before dipping his head toward the woman. "It's nice to meet you Cravs. Most folk these days call me Windshadow."

Cravendy Hound brings a hand up to her face and covers it in thought. Upset the elementals...no. Her target practice? She had thought since it was an accident, it’d be fine, but perhaps not. Blast it all, now she’d have to get a conjurer to help her apologize to those, frankly, eldritch spirits.

Cravendy Hound: “Windshadow. Now that’s a title -and- a mouthful...any reason why people call ye that?” Her brows knit together and her eyes narrow. He clearly wasn’t your average adventurer, judging from his gear. “That yer secret, crime fightin’ identity or somethin’?”

Bertram Windshadow blinks in surprise, though not that one could tell from behind the visor, at her comment. He'd never really thought about it like *that* before. There's an awkward pause before Bertram's hand rises up to the back of his neck and he shook his head. "Oh, no. It's nothing like that," he responds with a laughing tone, "It's ... an epithet. A Gyr Abanian thing."

Bertram Windshadow: "I can be ... pretty fast when I need to be. Quiet too."

Cravendy Hound just realizes that she’s smiling. Everything that had happened in the past hour. The smoke, the running...and now, Windshadow standing here, as polite as could be. He was an amusing enigma to her. “No need to be bashful. If people call ye something like that, then I doubt ye only go ‘pretty’ fast. But can ye outrun a chocobo? I’d be willin’ to bet against ye.”

Cravendy Hound laughs - the challenge only half serious. “But seriously. Ye saved my ‘ide back there. What can I do for ye...’ow about round of drinks on me?”

Bertram Windshadow can only laugh a bit more fully at the prospective challenge, his head shaking slightly as a smile finds solid purchase upon his lips. "Depends on the terrain and distance, honestly. A 'bo's going to out last me in the long run on flat ground." He shakes his head gently, as though he was dismissing the thought as overly self-indulgent. He cleared his throat at the new offer. "I ... " he pauses, tilting his head to the side, "... I wouldn't turn down a drink or two, no."

Bertram Windshadow: "But I'm just glad to have been at the right place at the right time."

Cravendy Hound scratches the back of her head, amused by how seriously Windshadow is taking the chocobo challenge. She can hardly imagine what it’d look like for a hyur to move that quickly. Would he send himself sailing forward like a rocket, or would he just move his limbs -that fast-?! Either way, she steps over and playfully bumps his shoulder with her fist. “I know a spot nearby that serves a solid Mun-Tuy Brew. Over ‘ere.”

Cravendy Hound would bring the two of them to an unassuming establishment. When she enters, she dips her head towards the Elezen barkeep, who returns the gesture. By the time Cravs takes a seat, the barkeep has already set out two cups and a bottle of brew on the table. The usual.

Bertram Windshadow laughed -- albeit a bit nervously -- as Cravendy bumped his shoulder gently while passing by while making her way further into the town. He certainly couldn't complain about a good drink of mun tuy so he followed behind her whilst glancing around the village with a thoughtful expression. He didn't say too much on the way but, as he settled in before the second cup of drink, he couldn't help but ask. "What had you out in this neck of the woods anyway?"

Cravendy Hound has already finished a cup and is halfway through pouring herself another glass. She places the bottle back to the center of the table with a satisfying, though loud, thump. “......Ye’d be surprised ‘ow far those critters chased me. That said, I come out ‘ere now and again. Nice trees, nice folk.” She clears her throat, and then says in a slightly lower voice: “The drinks not bad too.”

Bertram Windshadow might have -- perhaps -- been attempting to discern what the woman might have down to agitate the elementals, but ... he didn't seem like he was about to start prying where he wasn't invited. It didn't seem like he was Like That. Instead he bobbed his head forward and began a much more *measured* approach to his drinking. "I find it similarly calming. Spend time up in the boughs can really help clear the head when you're feeling a bit overwhelmed."

Cravendy Hound raises a brow. “So, ye run really fast, and ye have orbs that shoot out smoke. What are ye, some kind of courier? If ye feelin’ overwhelmed, then just tell the big man to stuff it. Don’t work so much.” She lifts her cup up with a grin. “Lifes too short not to indulge in the good stuff.”

(Cravendy Hound) lmao I can't get over how these two haven't connected the dots )) (Bertram Windshadow) (( It's *pretty* great! Hahaha. ))

Bertram Windshadow tilts his head to the side slightly as he listens to Cravendy's Words of Wisdom. He sips upon his drink thoughtfully for a moment before giving a concessionary bob of his head. He certainly found himself dwelling on the bad recently. Though it wasn't quite related to work as she might be assuming. Given his effective unemployment at the moment. "... I suppose that's true." He murmurs quietly, maybe more to himself than to Cravendy proper, "Is that what you were doing out there?"

Cravendy Hound leans back on her chair, feet propped up on the table. “Chin up. Ye seem the earnest type. Try at somethin’ long enough and it’ll change, eventually.” She takes another sip and listens to the sound of the waterwheel turning on the river. Windshadow’s second question gives her pause. “What? Was I...out ‘ere to indulge, ye mean?”

Bertram Windshadow quietly nods his head in response to her further words of assurance -- though it seemed difficult to determine how they were received behind the vidor -- before she asked her clarifying question. "Oh," he cleared his throat and shook his head, "Well, that or just ... enjoying the 'good stuff' as it were."

Cravendy Hound smirks, and gestures to the alcohol on the table, as if that was answer enough to his question. The two made an interesting drinking duo, and Cravs found herself drawn to her withdrawn, fast-running companion. When they eventually parted ways, she let him know that he was welcome to swing by for another round of drinks...or perhaps, she would find him, and make good on her bet that he could outrun a chocobo.

#ff14 rp logs #Cravendy Hound #Bertram Windshadow #A LATE POST BUT #fddkjsl these two #the power of BEEs have brought them together #Cravs just thinks Bertram is a very very professional courier

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shnuggletea · 4 years

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Sorry but I couldn’t get this posted on here yesterday. I only had my phone and it gave me the finger when I tried lol. The Tumblr app doesn’t like big posts like this one.

The last day, Lust! I’m a little sad but also relieved. I really didn’t think I’d make it lol! For the edited version, take your pick between FF or AO3. For the uncensored version, head over to Patreon or keep reading.

Thank you again @clearwillow for the amazing art. Seriously you’re easily one of my favorite fan artist. And to @lemonlushff, @neutronstarchild, and @ruddcatha for hosting!

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Lust

“Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves.”

-Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

“What are you doing here?!!”

Naraku was lounging on my bed, smirking up at me when we returned. I was planning on sharing the bed with Inuyasha. It wasn’t like I had a second bed.

Inuyasha followed me in silently but when I turned to explain Naraku’s presence, he was gone. “Inuyasha?” A few steps back I found him, already settling on the couch. “I’m so sorry about this, I didn’t know he was going to be here…”

“Why wouldn’t he be? He’s your mate?”

A smile forced its way onto my face and I shook my head, “but he isn’t, is he? I’m not meant to be with him…”

“What’s the Mutt doing here?” Naraku had found us, raging with his tone at Inuyasha. But then he turned to me with his anger. “Why is he here?!”

“We’re correcting a mistake. You can go to Kagome’s now if you want….” Both men growled at that but I was only concerned with Inuyasha’s. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her do anything to you.”

“Kagome would never do anything to me anyway. Other than let me go.” Inuyasha said, his hurt clear.

Naraku laughed, “what did you do? Master wouldn’t have let you go so easily? You fucked up somehow didn’t you? Was it after you laid with her? Don’t deny it, I can smell her on you.”

Inuyasha was in Naraku’s face in a blink, moving at a speed my brain couldn’t comprehend and I backed up with my fear. They both ignored me and my whimper, too into one another at the moment to care that they were scaring me. “Say what you will about me, but watch what you say about Kagome.”

The sob I choked on got attention, both Naraku and Inuyasha looking at me with concern. But Naraku’s was somehow stronger than Inuyasha’s. “She still has a hold on you, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she does, she’s my Mate.”

Inuyasha was looking at me confused, his black brow raised liked it was when I first mentioned this, us, to him. The kiss didn’t work after all. The only thing that would work had to be sex. It made sense, what with him sleeping with Kagome. No way I was going to get him to sleep with me with Naraku here. It would have to wait, Inuyasha would have to suffer another night until I could get rid of Naraku and then fuck the spell out of him.

The thought brought a smile to my face, Inuyasha under me and thanking me for freeing him? Loving me? It was enough to put up with Naraku but only for a while longer. “How much longer are you going to stay here?”

Now Naraku looked confused, arching a brow just as Inuyasha had done. It made my heart skip for some reason. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

“I told you, you can go to Kagome’s…”

“Stop saying that. He doesn’t belong there!” Inuyasha raged.

“Oh, and you do?!” I countered.

Naraku grabbed my shoulder and held me hard. “Actually, he does.” He turned me to face him, glowering down at me. “What did you do?”

“She showed up and kissed me,” Inuyasha answered for me.

Naraku turned purple. “Why? To what end?” My eyes bounced from Naraku to Inuyasha and he laughed. “You really are an idiot!!”

My mouth flopped open and my phone rang. The fight I had towards Naraku twisted as I looked and found Kagome’s name on the screen. Racing, I got away from the two of them and sat on my bed, door closed, before I answered. “Yes?”

She breathed into the receiver heavily. Kagome was still crying. “Is he okay?”

“He is.”

“Kikyo… please don’t hurt him. He’s not like your other men…”

“I’m not going to hurt him, Kagome. He’s my Mate.”

She sucked in a breath so loud I could hear it over the phone. “Naraku’s your Mate.”

“No, he’s not. We got them mixed up, too caught up in them being there in the first place and took the wrong men. I was always supposed to be with Inuyasha and you Naraku.”

“It doesn’t… it doesn’t matter. I love Inuyasha…”

I huffed, “you sure have a funny way of showing it. Making him sleep with you with your control over him.”

“I didn’t do that. I made sure I didn’t say anything. Just like when he left I… I said nothing so I didn’t sway him with this… magic. But it was because I care about him and love him, Kikyo.”

My stomach was twisting and my heart was pounding. These were feelings I hated. I hated guilt. “Why are you telling me this? It doesn’t change what you did to my Mate.”

That’s right, I was the one slighted, not her. She was the one that took my Mate and used him. She changed him, made him hers without so much as asking me. The spell should have made me the one in control, then the men would be free to choose as they should. Inuyasha never would have been Kagome’s, he would have been with me like he was supposed to be.

“I just… I wanted you to know that. That nothing I did was out of malice or cruelty. I love Inuyasha and… I love you. You’re my friend and I want both of you to be happy.”

I felt it fall but quickly swiped it away, the tear that rolled down my cheek. “Kagome….”

“That’s all. And… I’m sorry but I’m going to need some space for a while. I want you to be happy but seeing you two together will… It will break me. Okay?”

They wouldn’t stop, no matter how many times I brushed them away, the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m… I’m sorry, Kagome.”

I don’t know if she heard me, the line was dead when I checked. I never intended to hurt Kagome, I just wanted to do what was right. She would feel better later, Inuyasha wasn’t her soulmate. She just needed to be with Naraku. He would make her feel better.

Taking a moment more, I collected myself and hurried back to Inuyasha. He would make me feel better.

But I opened the door to find both him and Naraku on the other side of it. Inuyasha was caging the door while Naraku a short distance, leaning against the wall all closed off. Two men waiting for you is usually a turn on. However, neither were happy at all. Especially Inuyasha.

“What did you tell her?!” Inuyasha roared.

I glanced back at Naraku who did and said nothing while Inuyasha looked ready to tear me apart. I was on my own, as usual. So I took a deep breath and swallowed my fear. “I told her the truth. That you were only with her because she told you to be.”

Naraku laughed hollowly. “Dear God, you are an idiot.”

Inuyasha stood up straight but didn’t stop blocking my exit. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Naraku was still silent, leaving me to explain. He was the demon, the one brought here. Shouldn’t he know? Shouldn’t Inuyasha know exactly what I was talking about?! “Her control over you! Overall of you!! She says the word and you would all jump off a cliff!”

Inuyasha’s claws slapped into the doorframe, dangerously close to slapping into me, and growled. “Did you tell her that? Did you tell her she controlled us with her words?!”

“I… I didn’t…” I had to take another breath, Inuyasha scaring me senseless. Naraku finally stepped in, pulling Inuyasha back who only knocked off his hold harshly and paced away. “I didn’t tell her, she already knew what she was doing and still didn’t stop. I know you’re upset, that she took advantage of you but it’ll be alright! I’ll break her hold on you, I swear!”

I couldn’t tell if Inuyasha was pissed about losing his virginity by suggestion or if he was just still under Kagome’s spell, forcing him to be angry at me. But Naraku was placing himself between me and him. “Please forgive my Mate. She knows not what she’s doing.”

“I do know!!”

Naraku pushed me back and shut me up, glaring at me as well. Inuyasha wasn’t looking at either of us save to throw a growl every now and then. “She didn’t say anything when I left…”

“So she didn’t influence you! Kagome is a good person, I swear. She knew about her control so she said nothing. I don’t know why she still slept with you….”

Inuyasha turned, gunning for me for a second but Naraku blocked him. It turned Inuyasha from his path towards me and my heart slowed a little bit but still raced with fear. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything else?

“You could go to her? It’s not too late.” Naraku offered as if it was obvious.

Inuyasha perked at that, stopping with his ears straight up. They had been pinned to his head since he left Kagome’s, making them easier to forget. A shiver of disgust ran up my spine at the sight of them. But it didn’t last long, Inuyasha saying nothing more as he split out the window.

“Wait!!”

But he didn’t, ignoring me and jumping out the fifth-floor window. Naraku had me in his hold, keeping me from going out the door. I wanted to be free, to get out of his hold and chase after Inuyasha. When had Naraku ever given me what I wanted? Lifting me off my feet and slinging me over his shoulder.

“What are you doing? Put me down!!!”

“You’ve been a very bad mate.” He slapped my ass hard for emphasis. “I’m going to have to teach you a few things.”

He was heading for the bedroom so I kicked against him. “I don’t want to have sex with you!!”

“Yes you do, I can smell it on you already,” he took a deep whiff and I clenched my thighs together tight, “that makes no differences, you know, I can still smell you. Smell your want.”

“I want Inuyasha, not you!”

Setting me down, the bed was right behind me. “You want to satisfy your lust without falling in love. And you push me away because you love me and that frightens you more than death.” After the shock wore off, I shook my head, but he stopped that, cupping my cheeks hard and fast. “I know your past. Your father, your mother, both worthless. And undeserving of you. As were all the men you sought out to replace them.”

“Shut up. You don’t know me, you’ve known me less than a day!”

“I know you, I’ve seen you almost all your life. You are me. Like it or not, you love me and I love you. It’s a weakness but we will face it together.”

He shut off all other conversations with that, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and pushing us back to my bed. It didn’t seem to matter that I was furious with him, talking as though he knew me, letting Inuyasha getaway, continuously calling me his mate. His mouth on mine had my body filling with heat that I needed him to put out.

Naraku stripped me and I let him, writhing under him as he laid back on top of me. Holding himself over me, he ran a heavy hand down my front. I arched into his touch like a cat being petted. “You feel that? The thrust your body has for my touch?”

I did. And thrust was the perfect word as I felt parched for his hands.

Nodding, I watched as he leaned in, his face inches from mine. “Your lust for me is insatiable. Just as mine is for you. So you can go to another, but they won’t satisfy. It’s why you’ve been going through men. They never quenched your thirst like I do, your soulmate.”

His hand, that was on my belly, now brushed the wetness off my cheeks, smiling softly down at me. “But… Kagome made you come to me…”

“That’s not how it works.” Naraku again cut off the conversation and I wasn’t even mad, covering me with his body again.

We were exactly where we were supposed to be.

oOo

Miroku still wore his towel and nothing else. I had put on proper clothes and it had been a fight just to do that. Never had I had a more ridiculous argument than the one I just had over panties, yoga pants, and an oversized t-shirt. Miroku was still pouting about it, sitting on the arm of the couch and watching me pace.

“We have to do something.”

His arms over his chest, I struggled to contain myself. He would be a very nice distraction if I let him be. “There’s nothing we can do. This is between Kagome and Inuyasha.”

“Exactly! Kagome and Inuyasha. Not Kagome, Inuyasha, and Kikyo!”

Miroku scratched the back of his head as if embarrassed, “that will work out quickly enough, I promise.”

“What does that mean?” When he shrugged, I started to get angry. Well… angrier. “And what the hell is going on with all of you and Kagome? Does she control you??”

“Sort of.”

I stopped and stood before him. I wanted to tower over him but even sitting, he was just at my height. At least with my glower, I was a little intimidating and Miroku shrunk a little from me. “You’re going to explain it better than that. Right now.”

He teased everywhere but his mouth. “It’s not like… it’s hard to explain. Kagome is our Master. She brought us here at your insistence. But, we would have met at some point eventually. At least, I think that’s how it works. You’re my soulmate so if not this life then perhaps the next?”

I wanted more on that, but later. “Explain why you do whatever Kagome tells you to do?!”

He shook his head, “that’s not how it works. It’s not everything. It’s only…”

Kagome’s door opened and I sighed in agitation. I was glad she didn’t hear even as she set her phone down on the dining room table. “I called her.”

“Called who?” I bit back my irritation to wait for her answer, I really hoped I was wrong.

“Kagome.”

Now I let it all fly free, “Why the FUCK would you call her??!!”

Jesus. It was her ex all over again, calling and forgiving. Kagome didn’t have to tell me, I know she called and forgave Kikyo the bitch. But I wanted her to say it, admit her dumbass actions to my face.

“I had to, Sango. It’s not her fault…”

“How the hell do you figure??? She came here and kissed your soulmate moments after you slept with him?!!”

“It’s not as if she knew that.”

“You’re right but Inuyasha did!!”

She shrugged, “we both took advantage of him. But now he’s where he belongs.”

Miroku tried to stop me but I got to Kagome around him, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to face me. “There is a thing as being too forgiving Kagome. Why are you giving up?! Why are you giving up Inuyasha so easily?!”

“He was never mine. He’s where he wants to be and… I want him to be happy.”

Miroku sighed now, “you’re a very considerate Master but Inuyasha is far from happy where he is now.”

Kagome shook a little in my hold. “I didn’t tell him to go or stay. It was all his choice and he made the one he wanted…”

Miroku scrubbed his face with his hand and sighed again. “That’s not how it works….”

“Yeah, you keep fucking saying that but not explaining!!” I yelled.

His eyes danced between the two of us and we were silent, waiting to hear the truth. Miroku took a deep breath to ready himself, “look, the best way I can explain it….”

Someone pounded on the door, nearly breaking it down. “JUDAS PRIEST! LET THE MAN FINISH!!!!”

But my shout was ignored, the front door bursting open before any of us could move to open it. Inuyasha looked winded, panting with his hair all a mess. Kagome was winded too, her breathing picking up. I could feel it as she expelled the cold puffs into my neck. I had her wrapped protectively in my hold again and Inuyasha didn’t try to take her from me at all. He just stood there, staring at Kagome.

Hands grabbed me, pulling me away and I fought against them only to have them go from gentle to forceful. “Come Sango. We should leave them be now.”

An arm around my waist, he lifted me off my feet and pulled me back. Only to lift me all the way into his arms, carrying me bridal style back to my room. “We can’t just leave her alone with him!!!”

“They want to be alone, trust me. You’re not going to want to see this.”

I struggled in his hold, worried for my friend. “What does that mean?? What’s he going to do to her?!”

Miroku kicked open my door and continued to keep me where he wanted me. “Same thing I’m going to do to you.”

“Could you stop thinking with your dick for a minute??”

He paused, looking over my body as he held it over my bed. “You should have worn different pants then.”

“Miroku this is serious…”

“He’s going to be gentle, I promise. I can’t say the same for you.” He dropped me, leaving me to bounce a few times and a hungry smile spread on his face. “That’s very nice. I like it.”

With his eyes where they were, I had to assume he meant my lack of bra as I bounced. I got up on my hands and he loosened his towel, letting it hang on his erect cock. My mind was struggling to focus, to remember my friend in need just outside my door. Especially when Miroku tossed his towel.

Something about the shape and size, I really wanted to feel it with my tongue. I could keep an ear open and focused on the living room. It wasn’t soundproof. If things got bad, I would rush out to Kagome. Miroku was right, they did need to talk. I hoped Kagome would give him hell. I was going to give Miroku hell for his caveman ways, carrying me in here like I was his property.

Had Miroku ever received a blow job? The way he flinched when I scooted to the edge of the bed told me ‘no’. And when I licked up the side of his shaft? His grip on my shoulders was almost painful but it didn’t stop me. The bumps along his shaft felt just as good against my tongue as they did against the walls of my pussy, lapping him along the thick vein. He twitched had when I kissed his tip, barely missing my nose.

Grabbing his hips, I held him still while I took him into my mouth. His hands left my shoulders and went into my hair, grabbing my head hard and trying to move it. I quickly moved them back to my shoulders. I wanted to give him a blow job but I wasn’t about to let him fuck my mouth.

He was a good boy, leaving his hands where I placed them so I went back to work. Miroku groaned loudly when I took him into my throat. He was the largest man I’d ever been with so it was hard to suck on his entire length.

With a hand around his shaft, I pumped him and sucked on his tip. That had him moaning louder.

Looking up at him, I could only see the bottom of his chin and jaw. I still watched as it worked, opening and widening with each stroke of my tongue across his slit. Then I grabbed his balls, rolling them around in my palm. That lasted a few seconds, Miroku pushing me back hard so that I fell on the bed.

“I was going to…”

He ripped my pants and panties down roughly before rolling me onto my belly and grabbing my hips hard. He thrusted in and pumped hard for several seconds, coming inside my womb instead of my mouth.

Still, I was getting agitated, his hard cock inside me, teasing, and while I was soaked from our combined juices. “I was going to finish you with my mouth.”

He was stroking my ass as if to calm me. “I know. But I would never dishonor my Mate like that. Not one so considerate and giving as you.”

“It’s not a big deal. Better than you coming inside me. Safer.”

What did a demon know of human conception? I had my period last week so I knew I was safe for now. But I needed to get the pill for sure now. Monday. I would get it Monday, my refill just sitting at the pharmacy since my last boyfriend left me.

Miroku leaned into my ear, rolling his hips slightly. “You need to get naked now.”

Turning my head, I pressed my cheek against his. “You need to help me.”

He wasn’t super gentle, ripping my shirt up over my head, but I didn’t care, giggling at his hasty actions. His libido was the worst, I was pretty sure I had created a monster.

oOo

Inuyasha’s eyes were burning me, burning in general as a red fire danced inside them. His ears were twitching back and forth, from flat to upright in a manner that was so adorable, it brought fresh tears to my eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You shouldn’t have let me leave.”

There was a casnim between us. A distance that was painful just to see. I could still feel him between my legs, a lingering sensation that I blamed on his large cock and tender fingers. And my guilt, having taken advantage of him even if unintentional.

“I want you to be happy. You deserve that.”

The distance shrunk a little, Inuyasha taking a step closer. “I was happy, blissful until you tossed me to your friend.”

“I didn’t toss you! You kissed her of your own free will! She’s the one you want…”

“You’re the only one I want! I fucking told you that! I told you I wanted you Kagome and then made love to you…”

“And then you came out here and kissed Kikyo!” I turned from him, unable to stand his burning cinders as they singed me. “I tried not to command anything from you, control you but clearly I did anyway. From the beginning I was controlling you, wasn’t I?” Glancing back, I found he hadn’t changed. If anything, he was only angrier but I had no fear, I would never fear Inuyasha. “Go home.”

“I am home.”

I would use my control, one last time, to get him where he belonged. “Go to Kikyo, Inuyasha.”

“No.”

Confused, I spun. Inuyasha was on top of me, heading in the opposite direction from the one I told him to move to. “I said leave!”

“The hell I will!”

He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me and taking us to the couch. He dropped to it, taking me with him to sit on his lap. Pushing and fighting his grip only caused me to rub against him, finding me split around him, a leg on either side of his hip.

He smirked up at me now, putting his hands on my ass. “You can’t even help yourself can you?”

I had to settle for my hands on his chest, keeping him from trying to kiss me. “I’m not doing anything! You’re not my Mate, your Kikyo’s! I don’t want to do anything with someone else’s!!!”

“Good thing I’m not hers then, I’m yours.”

A sob erupted from my chest and his smile faltered. “Is this because we already slept together?!”

Growling, his hands left my ass and pushed on my back, breaking the straight hold I had on my arms. I nearly fell face-first into his but he caught the back of my shirt to dangle me above his lips. “Made love. I made love to you. Don’t let the position fool you, it was my dog that wanted it that way. But I made love to you willingly. Because you are my Mate, no one else.”

“I said that to you at some point. I had to of. I made you believe it with my control that you were mine but I was wrong and I’m sorry. I didn’t know I could do that until this afternoon….”

He dropped my shirt and jumped the rest of the way to my mouth. And God help me, I kissed him back. It was wrong, I know, but soulmate or not I loved him. I felt it all the way to my toes, I loved him so much that my body reacted even with it wrong. My arms wrapped around his neck and my thighs widened, letting me slip down closer to him. I hadn’t changed, hadn’t even put on a pair of panties from before.

Too heartbroken.

But I regretted it now, my folds pressing to the tent in his pants, the sweatpants he wore not hiding any of his shape from me. A shape I felt like I already had memorized from just our one time together.

It didn’t make any of this right, breaking my mouth from his and trying to getaway. Inuyasha wasn’t allowing it, yanking any good hold I had on something to pull out of his hold away from me and pushing me down each time I rose. After a few futile moments of struggle, I glared back at him. “Let me go!”

Again, he refused me. “No.”

I wasn’t giving up, pushing on him again to get free and he actually laughed at my attempts. “Why aren’t you listening to me!!! I’m your Master and you always do as I say don’t you?!!”

The grin on his face would have melted my panties if I had any on. His nose twitched, sniffing lightly and I cursed the heat between my legs that he caused in me. With his arms knotted around my waist, I had not choice but to sit still on his lap. Especially with him ignoring my commands.

“I’m listening to you but the control of a Master doesn’t work like that. We only do as suggested when it’s in our best interest.” Words failed me. I didn’t understand any of this, shaking my head at him was the best I could do and he chuckled. “You told me to speak? And I did because you wanted me to be free. I didn’t knock the shit out of Naraku because it would’ve have fixed a damn thing. I got off that stage because I was being stupid. I called you Kagome because I wanted to more than anything. Never once did you ask me to want you but I would have if you said the word. Because it was in my best interest to want you, Kagome.”

“Was it in Naraku’s best interest to go back to Kikyo? To give up his freedom and return? I commanded him to do that too and he did. He even froze mid-stride when I commanded it.”

“Naraku is vain but he isn’t a dumbass… well not about everything. He knows Kikyo is his Mate just like I know you’re mine. It was in his best interest to calm the fuck down and go back to her. Where else would he go anyway?”

He did have a point, Naraku knew no one and had no one to turn to. And Miroku… if he wanted to keep Sango, soulmate or not, he needed to listen to her.

My thoughts on all the things I had commanded, unknowingly and not, scattered when Inuyasha pressed his lips to my neck. A sheltered moan released from my lips without my permission and I quickly bit my lip to keep anything else from popping out.

“You didn’t tell me to kiss you today.” He spoke against my skin, his lips pursing as he talked to kiss and nip the column of my neck. “You asked me what would make me feel better and kissing you did. And you said nothing about me coming to your bed tonight. All you’ve done is let your fear push us apart.”

His hands slid under my shirt and pressed to my back, slowly working their way up to my shoulders.

“I should have stripped you our first time.”

Inuyasha was murmuring against my neck now and I was losing control, working my hips against him. I didn’t want to think about what I was doing to his pants right now. “Inuyasha…”

“You don’t have to say a word,” his tongue flicked across my collarbone under my shirt, “if it will help you understand, say nothing. It won’t change a thing, I’m going to make love to you on this couch.”

At that, he pulled his arms up, taking my shirt off with it. Here I was, sitting on Inuyasha’s lap in our living room, naked. With my shirt off, he took his off and I was in a daze looking at his chiseled chest. Sure, I’d seen it before like when we first met. But with me naked and inches from him, feeling the heat of his skin on mine, it was completely different.

That, and I knew what he was like now as far as sex.

It was more than that. In a single day, I felt like I knew him. I felt like I always had. Was that part of the spell though?

Turning, Inuyasha laid me on the couch,keeping my legs spread with his hips. He kept his eyes on mine as he stripped off his pants. Inuyasha wasn’t kidding about sex on the couch.

“Wait… this isn’t right…”

He fell back to my hands as I put them out to stop him from falling completely on top of me. With his own hands next to my head, holding himself off of me and the couch, I was caged by thick arms that pulsed with muscles. It was enough to make me drool and I wasn’t just talking about from my mouth.

“I waited years for you, seeing you in my dreams, memorizing your voice and face. Why do you think I went straight for you last night? And now I’ve waited hours after having you to have you again. You’re mine, Kagome.”

The possessive show had my mouth hanging open. I was confused by what he said, dreaming of my face and voice? What did that mean?

It didn’t make sense but it did. Or maybe that was my desire talking, feeling a fevered need like never before.

But that wasn’t what I was talking about.

“The couch, Yash. I meant it wasn’t right for us to do this on the couch.”

Inuyasha let his head droop with a sigh, his silvery white locks ticing my ears. It made me wonder, glancing between us to peek. Yep, carpet matched the curtains, a white happy trail going all the way down and creating a glowing halo around his dick. This was the first time getting a look at it and it was bigger than I thought. No wonder I still felt ‘stretched’ two hours later.

“You bought this couch, didn’t you?”

I coughed, flustered at Inuyasha catching me looking but also at his unexplained knowledge. “Yes… but that’s not the point, someone could see us.”

“Miroku is going to be keeping Sango busy until dawn. Just like I am you.”

Slowly, he lowered himself until he caught my lips with his. My hands left his plump chest and cupped his face, holding him to me. He lowered the rest of the way, rubbing his shaft against my folds until he was pressed against my clit. I gasped into his mouth but he didn’t let me go, slipping his tongue inside and touching it to mine.

I felt his tip poke my entrance and waited for him to put himself in. He didn’t need guidance this time, sliding in with one fluid movement of his hips. My body had missed him, greeting him back without hesitation.

“Your pussy missed me.” He growled and I opened my eyes to look up at him. He was still holding himself above me, watching my every move. “And my cock missed you too.”

“Just your cock?” I teased.

Blood bloomed across his cheeks but he didn’t break away from our staring contest. “I missed you. Kagome. I waited forever for you and I never want to miss you again.”

“Then don’t kiss other women.”

His mouth was set in a firm line but he sat back, hooked my legs with his arms, and put his hands back next to my head on the couch. The result of which was my feet next to Inuyasha’s head, my ass off the couch with his hips resting on top.

“Don’t let me walk away again either.”

It didn’t matter that I was trying to do what was best, I had still hurt Inuyasha. It was clear on his face. But we were even, him hurting me by kissing Kikyo and me hurting him for making him think I didn’t want him.

This was us making up, Inuyasha lifting his hips only to slam them back into me. My entire body was on fire, feeling like I would explode from it any second now.

The loud pops our bodies made was almost deafening. Surely Miroku and Sango heard it and if they didn’t, the loud moans I couldn’t stop or soften were.

Suddenly, Inuyasha stopped and sat back again, holding my legs high and spread wide. When it was clear he wanted me to keep them there, and that I would, he took a hand off one leg and pressed his fingers into my clit. “This is what you like, isn’t it?”

A moan stuck in my throat so I nodded. He reared back his hips and slammed into me, holding a leg to keep me steady while he rolled my clit around in his fingers. I was coming. With each slap of his hips, I came a little bit more. My body waited, waited for his cock to hit my dam before releasing a little more ecstasy.

It was the longest orgasm of my life and it was only halfway done.

Inuyasha fell back to me and I grabbed onto him tight. Digging my nails into his shoulders, my entire body throbbed as he continued to thrust hard and deep. With his pelvis flush to mine, his body took over for his fingers, allowing him to hold me while I fell to pieces.

He was coming too, groaning in my ear as he struggled to keep pumping. I was almost done, almost through my orgasm. So I helped him, pressing up into him so he could stay as deep as possible.

I was a bag of pleasure filled bones when he stopped, just as limp as me. Pulling my fingers through his hair, I waited for him to rally and get up. Even though I really liked his weight on me.

My finger grazed his ear and I froze. “I’m sorry!”

He shook his head, kissing my neck and shoulder where his face was lodged. “No, don’t stop.”

So I didn’t, slowly rubbing up the fuzzy corner of his ear to the tip and going back down. It was so soft and warm, I loved them. “Will our kids have them?”

The sex was making me stupid, talking about things in the distant future if Inuyasha even wanted children. Or even wanted them with me.

He was staring at me now and it only made it worse, wishing I could turn invisible or melt. There was a shine to his eyes that made me feel a little bit better. It was accompanied by his smile. “What do you think?”

“What do I… think?”

“About our kids. What do you think?”

He was smirking and it gave me some courage. “I hope… I hope they have your ears. And your eyes.”

“I want them to be all you.” He nuzzled my nose as he spoke and my cheeks burned even more. “My Mate is beautiful and kind.” He paused to brush his lips against mine then spoke against my mouth. “I’m going to pup you up soon at this rate, Kagome.”

“I.. I should.. go on the pill.” He cocked his head to the side. “Birth control. It keeps you from having kids before you’re ready.”

He shrugged, “are we not ready?”

“We just met.”

“Did we?”

Inuyasha was already kissing me again, causing me to wiggle my hips from the intensity of it. With us already moving together, it seemed moot but I still caught enough breath to say “take me to bed, lover” when I got my mouth free.

That was why he lifted us off the couch and bounced me on him the whole way to my room.

#inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha sins #sinfully human

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korkro · 3 years

Text

Escape!

The start of the apocalypse. The start of his life in the wasteland

(This character has spiraled into something far beyond my original idea for him lol)

~~~~~

Their mutterings are of no real interest to him. He listens because he has nothing else to do but wait. It’ll be at least a few more Earth hours before they leave for the surface. His mission--his sole purpose for creation--will begin. Study the Earthlings, mark decent ones as test subjects, report back to his creators periodically, and keep his true nature hidden.

He’s a wandering artist--not a robot constructed on a spaceship to spy on humans. They say the artist cover will give him some room to be...eclectic. He’s programmed to speak five different languages, proficient with multiple weapons and a paintbrush, can touch and taste and feel. They tell him not to submerge himself in water for too long though, just a few minutes to wash any Earth debris off if necessary. His name will be James Dustice.

He hates it.

Suddenly there’s shouting and scrambling and it’s enough to pique his interest. ‘The bombs, the bombs!’ they keep screeching. He knows the situation on Earth is getting progressively worse but the Zetans hadn’t predicted nuclear war for a few more years still

He stands to find the nearest window but someone yells at him to stay. His lips curl into a snarl but he obeys. He closes his eyes, weird shades of blue and orange and red that don’t look like any human eyes he’s seen before. They remind him more of a laser on one of those assaultron robots. Maybe that’s just one more way they’re similar.

Eventually, a backpack gets thrown at him and disturbs his rest. A finger pokes at his head too and he wishes they wouldn’t fucking touch him.

‘We’re leaving. Now.’

He picks up the bag of Earth supplies and follows to the shuttle. As he walks through these ugly corridors, light glints against the bracelet on his wrist. It’s plain and unassuming but the reality of it is much more menacing to him. It’s his tracking device.

He hates the Zetans.

Three accompany him onto the shuttle, hurriedly shoving him inside. They’re talking excitedly, taking guesses at how the landscape will change and how many people died. This isn’t the first planet-wide annihilation they’ve witnessed. Some were even orchestrated by their own three-pronged hand.

There’s only three seats and the Zetans sit. One points to a bar he can hang onto. No one notices the way his fingers clench around it. The backpack straps dig into his shoulders but the heaviness doesn’t bother him. The lightweight bracelet agitates him more.

The coordinates they’re traveling to are input into a computer and the confined ship handles the rest. They explain that his mission is largely the same but now to keep an eye out for any potential mutations within the population. What’s the point if most of the population is probably dead?

There are no windows but a screen projects the estimated time of arrival and distance from the ground once they enter the atmosphere. His gaze stays on it until a loud siren goes off.

‘Something’s found us!’

‘How’d it get past the sensors?’

He’s not too sure what it is, something with the ‘government.’ Former government? One of them types in new coordinates for an emergency landing. The ship jerks in a new direction and he stumbles into a Zetan. It calls him something close to clumsy idiot and shoves him away. He lands on the ground and just sits there. His eyes stay on the screen. They’re descending rapidly, trying to outmaneuver the other aircraft. Lower, lower...

‘Up!’ one orders, clicking its fingers at him.

‘Did we lose them?’

‘Affirm-’ But an alarm goes off and this time, their sensors do work.

One takes its shock baton out, another their gun. They might have to fight when they land.

‘Don’t I get a weapon?’ he asks. He recognizes his own voice but feels so disconnected from it.

They laugh at him. It’s a rare sound aboard the ship but it is always condescending. He’s trained in unarmed combat but this isn’t the Zetans’ first skirmish with the government. The humans have managed to steal some of their technology in the past, they’re going to have much more than fists to fight with.

‘We lost them for now.’ They ignore him completely.

They’re very close to the surface now, less than a minute now. He doesn’t look directly, but in his peripheral vision he sees the shock baton hanging at the third Zetan’s side. He’s been on the receiving end of them--when he’s not moving fast enough for them, when he answers a question wrong, when his combat training isn’t good enough. They hurt, even when it’s just a prod to activate the electricity. That’s why he’s going to enjoy this.

He lunges forward and in one swift movement, yanks the baton off its belt and spins around to connect it with another one’s skull as hard as he can. The moment of surprise allows him to grab the other’s arm before it can shoot and break it. He shoves it at the other Zetan and they tumble onto the computer. For all their technology, their bodies are still pathetically fragile. Something presses and the shuttle door opens. As they scramble up, he grabs his backpack and leaps out with them shouting behind him.

The impact jolts through his robotic limbs but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Then he runs. He’s only a few seconds ahead of them and whatever pinged their radar might be lurking too. Lots of trees provide cover and the sun’s position tells him he’s moving east and that mountains block his path west. That’s all he knows about his location. The air’s hazy but he doesn’t think a bomb landed nearby. But it’s eerily quiet, shouldn’t animals live here? Shouldn’t there be sirens and screams from people injured in the blasts? He’s not sure if being far from people is a good thing or not. But it doesn’t matter right now. He just runs.

He’s not a tool. He’s not a prisoner. He’s not James.

He will never willingly return to the ship. He’d rather die, whatever that means for something like him. He jumps into a ditch and crouches behind some boulders. Sunlight reflects off the bracelet that’s taunted him since they welded it around his wrist. It seems he’s lost the Zetans for now but if he wants any true escape, he needs to destroy this thing. It’s seamless and made of some type of compound they mock the Earthlings for not possessing. There’s no way to simply take it off.

His fingers tighten around the baton still in his hand. Before he can second guess it, he lifts the weapon and smacks it against the bracelet. Shock waves immediately course through his body and his vision erupts into a sea of bright colors.

When his vision settles and he feels coherent again, he’s staring up at the canopy of trees and his body rests against the dirt of this dried up creek. Shakily, he raises his arm towards the sky. The bracelet crumbles into pieces and falls from his wrist.

He smiles.

But he still needs to get away. Pain hums through his body to tell him something’s wrong, as if he wasn’t the one responsible for shocking his system. But he ignores it and continues running east. One of the many advantages of not being human is that he needs much more infrequent breaks.

The first noise he finally hears as he runs is from an aircraft. His body tenses before he looks up but it’s a black vertibird that continues on its way. He sees more of them in various directions and distances. They must be the remnants of survivors. More government aircrafts trying to escape to safety? Is there any safety left in a world like this?

The trees eventually start to thin and he misses the cover of the forest. But he can’t linger there, not right now. His eyes pick up a highway in the distance full of cars and he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself yet. But as he carefully moves closer, he realizes quite a few of them are empty and unmoving. Still, he doesn’t want to follow it directly. He’s not sure whether to go north or south. He picks north, there’s no time for hesitation. His gaze returns to the road and a sign hangs over it, looking ready to fall at any moment. With his enhanced vision, it easily tells him that this path will take him to somewhere called Reno. That’s as good a place as any, maybe he’ll find some real transportation.

But until he gets there, he just runs.

#fallout #i don't have a tag for him yet lol #tomato's writing

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lavendersuh · 4 years

Text

Doyoung rebel spy!au

doyoung x reader // sci-fi au, fluff, reluctant mission partners to lovers

word count: 1.5k

au masterlist

header by @itsapapisongo tysm!!

note: long time no see! here’s the next part of my little star wars nct au series! i’m trying to make these easy to read for people that don’t know star wars, but I’ve been in the fandom for so long i can forget that some of this terminology isn’t general knowledge lol. blasters = space guns and bacta = quick healing med patches

“Are you coming or not?”

You hear your mission partner call from outside the ship. You snarl as you grab a blaster and exit the ship as well.

“This is a bad idea, Doyoung!” You yell after him as he walks toward the desert town. “We have no idea where we are! How do we know there won’t be any Imperials walking around?”

“Calm down, sweetheart, why would stormtroopers come to such a backwater planet?” Doyoung tells you, casually strolling into the marketplace.

The stalls are bustling with a variety of species, all seemingly in a hurry to go about their business. You didn’t get a very friendly vibe from anyone, but all you needed was to get a part of repair your ship and be on your way.

While you really didn’t want to be here on this run down planet, it was a necessary stop. You were running out of fuel and some of the hyperdrive parts were completely fried from your last jump. You and Doyoung hadn’t expected to run into so much trouble while gathering information for the Rebel Alliance, but at this point, you suppose everything is trouble. Every mission with Doyoung seemed to end in a chase through the stars, and the two of you had only managed to escape because of one too many jumps into hyperspace.

The market is fairly mundane, as people and creatures try to sell their food, ores and tech to anyone who crosses their path. As you search for a place selling ship parts, the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You can just tell that trouble is on it’s way.

You look ahead of you to find Doyoung has already engaged with a vendor. He seems to be using his charm to knock the price down, and you can’t help but feel a smile as his usually annoying charisma comes in handy for once.

You didn’t hate Doyoung, no. You both were fighting for the same things, both having been pilots in the Imperial Academy before running away. With your similar backgrounds, the leaders of your rebel cell decided you would work well together. This was both correct and incorrect.

Statistically, you worked best with Doyoung. The missions were quick, to the point, and you got home with important information and relatively few scratches. But you always fought with Doyoung. It was never anything major, but every time, he somehow managed to piss you off and get you riled up. You were just praying you would get off this planet before you blew your cover.

You finally catch up to Doyoung, hearing him talk in a language you don’t know. He seems to be doing okay though, so you look around a bit as he makes the trade.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a speck of white in the midst of the dull browns and greys of the market. Your eyes widen as you see two stormtroopers emerge from a building.

“Doyoung, we gotta go.” You grab his wrist, startling him in the middle of a sentence. He looks over to where your eyes are trained and you assume he offers the creature a farewell before you take off at a fast pace towards the ship.

“Where the hell are we? Why are those bucket heads on every goddamn planet?” You snarl, making your way through the crowds of people.

“Haven’t you noticed we are fighting an Empire that rules the whole galaxy? Of course there are stormtroopers everywhere!” Doyoung calls behind you.

You’re about to argue back to him, but almost trip over a canister in the middle of the road. You weave around a corner, coming closer and closer to the spaceport holding your ship. You thank every star above that the repair you bought parts for can be made while taking off.

You look behind you to find the troopers hot on your tail, with Doyoung just a few steps behind you. Just as you catch his eye in your glance back, one of the troopers manages to hit his shoulder, causing your partner to cry out. He doesn’t stop running, though, instead catching up to you and making a covert turn so that the troopers are momentarily caught off guard.

The two of you make a few more turns, leading to a completely abandoned alleyway. You don’t have much time but you pause to inspect Doyoung’s injury.

“How bad is your shoulder? We have some bacta patches on the ship, we just have to hurry-”

“It’s not that bad,” Doyoung says, while he holds onto his injury, “But, I need to tell you something important.”

“Important?” you ask, “How important? Because we don’t have a lot of time.”

You know Doyoung’s injury is worse than he is telling you, and you know he isn’t someone who shows his pain. But there is a fear in his eyes. His skin is paler than it normally is, and he wobbles where he stands.

“Please, listen, I just- I need to tell you somet-” Doyoung never finishes his sentence, as he passes out. You are barely close enough to catch him, but after some jostling, you manage to secure your arms around his torso.

Panic sets in as you hear blaster shots a few roads away. You begin to drag your partner along as fast as you can, seeing the space port entry just a few yards away. It’s certainly not the most graceful thing, but soon enough you are setting Doyoung’s unconscious form in the medbay corner of your ship as you pilot yourself out of the city.

It doesn’t take long to exit the atmosphere, so you set up auto-pilot and fix the repair that caused this whole mess in the first place. It’s a quick fix, and you are soon traveling through hyperspace.

Doyoung is still unconscious when you return to him. You find the bacta patches and turn him over gently, removing his shirt and vest to get a better look at the injury. It’s not the worst you’ve ever seen, so you know with the right treatments it will heal in a few days. You press the patches onto his shoulder blade, hearing a seer of pain escape his mouth.

“Are you awake, or do you still wanna pretend like you’re dying?” You ask him, as he tries to sit up.

He coughs for a moment, so you find some water for him as he further wakes up. You stand silently watching the muscles along his neck as he drinks, suddenly reminded of the fact that you tore his shirt in order to apply the bacta.

You hadn’t thought about it at the time, but now that he’s awake, you start to feel flustered. Doyoung doesn’t seem to notice, though, as his eyes stare off into space somewhat intently.

He seems to notice you staring, as he shakes his head and gives you a small smile, “Thank you for getting me all the way back here.”

“It’s no problem,” you reply, “I apologize for any bruises that might appear due to dragging you.”

He lets out a chuckle, his eyes shining with appreciation. But something is still missing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, a bit hesitant. “Not just the shoulder injury, but in general? You were kinda manic before you passed out on me.”

Doyoung is quiet for a moment. You decide to sit next to him on the med table, equally silent.

“I haven’t gotten shot in a while,” he tells you. “I started panicking because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell you….”

“Tell me what?”

“I like you.”

He says it so softly, you barely hear it. He says it so bluntly, you barely believe it. You turn to look him in the eyes, and you find Doyoung’s face to be at peace, staring with a quiet smile settled upon his lips.

“You like me?” you ask, making sure you heard correctly.

“Yeah, I do.”

You can’t help the way your face scrunches up, “Since when? How? We always fight…”

He runs his hand lightly down your forearm in an affectionate way. “Sure, we have our arguments, but we make a good team.” he tells you, “I like that you always seem to know what I’m thinking before I do.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really know what else to say. Your mission partner who you have reluctantly found yourself getting close to has turned your world upside down.

Doyoung pulls you out of your thoughts again as he asks, “Can you tell what I’m thinking about right now?”

Tilting your head, you hate to admit that you can tell. His gaze roams around your face, settling on your mouth. You slowly look to his own.

His lips twitch up into a bright smile before he softly connects to yours. It’s light and chaste, but your head spins. Suddenly your partner in crime seems like he might be more after all.

#doyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung x you #nct #nct fanfic #doyoung fluff #kim doyoung #sci fi au #doyoung au #nct scenarios #doyoung scenarios #my writing

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walviemort · 4 years

Text

hidden blessing (4/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: another update! this brings us to the end of Season 2...things will only get more interesting from here! (once I write it, lol) Thanks for reading! dedicated as always to the amazing @sherlockianwhovian

Killian had figured out where the royal family lived sometime after his arrival in town, and his keen sense of direction led him to it without detour (well, save for one to lose the meager contents of his stomach in a bush). When he entered the building, he could hear the sounds of bickering coming through the open door at the top of the landing; they never even heard him coming up the stairs.

“STOP!” the young lad shouted. “I already lost my dad. I don't wanna lose anybody else. We have to work together.”

“From the mouths of babes. I'd say the lad has a point,” Killian had to agree, enjoying the way everyone jumped at his voice as he entered the apartment. His tiny moment of glee was quickly burst, though, by the swift introduction of the prince’s fist to Killian’s face.

“That was for the last time we met,” David added.

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered, checking his nose for blood (and thankful the prince hadn’t headed any further south).

Finding nothing amiss other than what would likely be a sore spot, Killian looked back up to address the group—only to find the end of the prince’s gun staring him in the face.

“Tell us why you're here before I use something other than my fist.”

“I think threatening to kill me seems a bit redundant when we're all about to die anyway,” Killian threw back.

“No thanks to you,” Emma interjected. “Regina just told us you were working with Tamara and Greg to get your revenge.”

It was the first time he’d seen Emma in weeks and the flip his heart did at the sight of her was both foreign and welcome. Why had he waited so long to seek her out?

“Well, that was before they told me I had to die to get it,” he explained, hoping he hadn’t stared at her too long.

“We don't have time for this,” she said angrily, turning to her father. “We have a real problem.”

“Which is why I'm here,” Killian interjected again, calling her attention back to him. “'Cause staring death in the face has made me realize if there's one thing I want more than my revenge, it's my life.” Behind everyone else, Regina gave him a knowing look; but everyone else seemed to buy his reasoning. “So should we stop this thing now, and then resume bickering?”

Regina stepped forward, though. “There is no stopping it. And the best thing I can do is slow it down, but that will only delay the inevitable.”

“It'll give us the time we need,” the prince said, in a tone that generally indicated one had a plan.

“The time for what?” Snow White asked.

“Steal back the beans. Use them to get everyone into the Enchanted Forest before Storybrooke is gone.”

“How? We don't even know where Greg and Tamara are,” Emma countered.

Which was Killian’s prompt. “Well, I do. I can help.”

“Help yourself,” she scoffed. “You'll take them and leave us all behind. Why should we trust you?”

He refused to admit how much that stung—or, rather, continued to, ever since their trip up the beanstalk. But before he could defend himself, the prince stepped in.

“No, we won't have to. I'll go with him, and if he tries anything, I'll shoot him in the face.”

“Quite hostile, aren't we?”

“Just being clear.” How odd that he admired that fiery spirit in Emma but was so thoroughly annoyed by it in her father.

A plan quickly formed and roles were assigned, and people started to move for the door, save for Regina—who was making what sounded an awful lot like a goodbye to Henry. He wanted to be surprised at what was surely going to be a self-sacrificial moment for the queen, but if he truly stopped to think of it, he’d likely do the same, even if his own child was hardly the size of an avocado. The glance she gave him over the boy’s head was full of trust—she was counting on him to.

Were it just him, he likely would have prioritized saving himself over all the others. He knew it wouldn’t be all that hard to get a bean for himself and sail away, leaving everyone else to face their own fates. But now...he wouldn’t be able to face his child with all that blood on his hands. He already had enough of that as it was.

“The things we do for our children,” he found himself muttering as he followed David out the door.

---------

Once more, he had to brave a terrifying motorized coach as the prince drove them to the cannery. Despite everything he’d been through in the past few weeks, he was certain that this form of transportation was most likely to harm him and his babe. But thankfully, it was a short trip, and he couldn’t wait to escape once the vehicle stopped moving.

No sooner had he set foot on solid ground, though, than it trembled beneath him; it had been doing that with increasing frequency. “Time’s running out,” he shouted at David as they headed for the entrance.

Sarcastically, the prince threw back, “Oh, is that what that means?”

Greg and Tamara were in the far end of the building from where they were, but they carefully traversed its length, not wanting to give any warning they were there. Killian was definitely on edge, and he wasn’t sure which was racing faster: his heart, or the rapid flutters of his child.

“So, tell me, Hook,” David started, albeit quietly, as he followed Killian. “All this time, it's been about revenge for you. Why is that suddenly so important to you that you survive? I know what I'm fighting for—my family. What are you fighting for?

As much as Killian longed to say the same, he knew he couldn’t just yet. “Myself. That's plenty of motivation, I can assure you.” Hopefully his reputation covered his half-truth.

Not that it mattered; footsteps fell up ahead and they both fell silent just as Greg came into view.

A scuffle ensued as the two sides fought to gain control of the beans; Killian was briefly discombobulated when Tamara shot the prince’s gun from his hand, but he saw his opportunity as Greg was taunting them with the jar containing the items. He knew it was dangerous, fighting over such an item so violently, but the alternative was even worse, and so he tackled the man to the ground (and was quite pleased to be the one doing the punching for a change).

David disappeared, chasing after Tamara, while Killian and Greg scrambled for the beans as they lay in the shattered glass; they both got their fingers on one each at the same time, and Greg was up and running much faster than Killian was capable of.

But he wasn’t far behind, thankfully, as he had to hold back David from running after the other pair.

“What are you doing? They've got the beans!” he shouted, struggling.

“Not all of them. I snagged one,” he explained, showing it to David before putting it in the pocket attached to his belt.

“Where are the rest?”

“Who cares? All we need is one.” David attempted to run after them again; perhaps this was good practice in dealing with an unruly, stubborn child, he thought as he grabbed David’s arm. “Hey! Live to fight another day, mate!”

“I'm not your mate,” the prince snarled, then ripped the pouch off Killian’s belt and headed back the other direction. Kilian sighed, and followed him out.

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

Much of the conversation in the diner around him was drowned out by the delight that was Granny’s cooking; he was glad he’d be able to sate his craving at least once more before whatever happened next, and he’d never met a dish quite like lasagna before. Until he heard an absolute absurd idea—to use the bean on the trigger and save Regina—and turned around on his stool just in time to intercept the bean as David tossed it to Emma.

Sounds of protest immediately followed his deft grab, but he didn’t care. “You're all mad.” Emma tried to grab it back, but he was easily able to hold it out of reach. “I can live with myself.”

“Give it back,” Emma demanded; goodness, she was attractive like this—all fiery anger—but now was not the time.

“If she wants to die for us, I say let her.”

Emma took a step closer, but made no attempt to reach for the bean this time; he smelled something lightly floral that seemed to suit her perfectly, but still—not the time. “You and I—we understand each other,” she said. “Look out for yourself, and you'll never get hurt, right?”

“Worked quite well for me,” he agreed, even if that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Yeah, till the day that it doesn't. We're gonna do this. It might be stupid, it might be crazy, but we're doing it. So... you can join us and be a part of something, or you can do what you can do best and be alone.”

He swallowed. It should be unnerving, how well she had him figured out despite not knowing the whole story. But it was hard to argue against a statement like that.

“Quite passionate, Swan,” he answered, and handed over the pouch. No one waited for any more words and immediately headed for the door, but he hung back—partly because he wanted to finish that lasagna, and partly because he wasn’t done with Emma. Before she’d taken two steps, he reached for her forearm. “Why are you really doing this?” he asked; he could read her just as easily.

And she knew it. “The kid just lost his father today,” she admitted. “I'm not letting him lose a mother, too.”

That was odd; he hadn't heard of any casualties. “His father? Who's Henry's father?”

“Neal,” she answered somberly.

Bloody hell—no. “Baelfire?”

“Yeah.”

This wasn’t nausea—there was genuinely a pit forming in Killian’s stomach. Bae couldn’t be gone; they’d never even—he hadn’t—

He pushed those feelings away as he watched Emma turn and walk out. If Bae was gone, then that meant there was truly nothing for him here.

He felt the smoothness of the bean in his jacket pocket, where he’d hidden it. Good riddance, Storybrooke.

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

The tremors that were shaking the ground were also stirring the sea, but not enough that he had any problem getting the ship out into open waters. Once he was far enough away from land, he pulled out the bean from his jacket pocket.

For a moment, he stared at it, and felt its coolness against his fingers. How odd that something so small had so much power. Although, he did have to admit: the first image he’d seen of his child was fairly similar in shape, and there was no doubting the sway they held over him; it was why they were here, after all.

Killian tried to focus his thoughts on the Enchanted Forest before throwing the bean and opening the portal, but his thoughts were oddly jumbled, and it wasn’t just pregnancy brain this time.

His gaze drifted to the markings he’d carved into—and scratched off—the helm so many years ago. Bae.

Now that he was alone, he could feel the emotions at learning of the lad’s passing finally welling up. Well, he wasn’t quite a lad anymore, was he? Or, had he been, rather. He’d grown up somehow, fathered a child, led a life—a life that surely wasn’t what it should have been, and it was definitely Killian’s fault.

And now, there was a decent chance Bae’s son would face a similar fate, if Killian had interpreted things right. Could he let that happen in exchange for his own child’s safety?

Just then, he felt something sharp in his stomach; his hand flew to the spot, low on the gentle curve of his belly. What on earth had that been?

A moment later, he felt it again, this time against his palm. Was that...was the babe kicking? The books indicated that he shouldn’t be able to feel it yet—not for some time, actually—but there it was again. His child—kicking—communicating with him.

And he could tell right away what they were saying: that no, he could not leave another boy to face the same fate Bae had.

Which meant there was only one thing to do. As quick as he could, he pocketed the bean again and spun the wheel, turning the ship around.

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

The ship was only just docked when the band of heroes were already gathered around the gangplank.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Emma called out as they approached. If he took a long moment to appreciate how she looked with the sea breeze blowing her blonde curls, he kept that to himself.

“Helping,” he answered dryly as he shuffled down the ramp.

“Well, you're too late,” Regina snarked, but sounded oddly worn out.

“Am I?” he tossed back; something had clearly happened in the short time he’d been gone.

Emma was waiting for him at the bottom of the plank. “I thought you didn't care about anyone but yourself,” she said, quietly and accusingly. His stomach flipped and he wasn’t about to try to figure out why.

Instead, he pulled the bean from his pocket and held it out to her. “Maybe I just needed reminding that I could.”

Amazingly, she seemed speechless as she took it from him, then glanced around at the others. Regina, ever the impatient one, was the first to speak up.

“Enough waiting around, let's go.”

“Go? Where?” He’d definitely missed something. “I thought we were saving the town.”

“We already did,” the prince answered; Killian supposed he wasn’t all that surprised.

“We need to get Henry,” Emma continued. “Greg and Tamara took him through a portal.”

Bloody hell; he knew that pair was trouble. There was no debate; he knew what he had to do. “Well, I offer my ship and my services to help follow them,” he quickly supplied. A gentle but firm kick in his belly seemed to indicate his child’s approval.

“Well that's great, Hook, but how do we track them?” Regina complained as they began to board; he could now see her attitude covering up the panic.

“Leave that to me.” The Dark One’s voice never failed to send a chill down Killian’s spine. “I can get us to where we need to go.”

Before he could protest, Snow decided for all of them. “Well, let's do it.” He had to concede for the moment; if they had no clue where the wretched pair had taken the boy, then he certainly couldn’t steer them in the right direction.

Everyone boarded and found places on the deck while Killian readied things. Last aboard was the Crocodile; Killian’s stomach turned at the sight, not just because of recent memories on this deck, but past ones, too. It never seemed to end well when he was on board. This man was the reason his child would never know their mother, and that was impossible to forgive.

But it wasn’t about Killian’s family right now.

“So, are you done trying to kill me?” the Dark One sneered as Killian descended from the quarterdeck.

“I believe so,” he answered solemnly; at least, he was for now. Gods forbid the man ever came near his child, though.

“Excellent. Then you can live.” Without further prompting, the reptilian man waved his hand, and a swirl of smoke appeared on a crate; when it dissipated, it revealed a frosted glass globe, blank of markings.

Everyone seemed to be watching as he pricked his finger on the sharp point of the needle attached to the instrument, then dripped his blood on the cloudy glass. It swirled red until a map began to take shape—of some terrifyingly familiar islands.

“Where is that?” Regina demanded. “Where did they take Henry?”

Killian swallowed before answering; and gods, he wished it was anywhere else. “Neverland.”

He had no way of knowing whether the nausea turning his stomach was from the babe, or the prospect of entering that accursed realm again.

To his surprise, the only other person who seemed to realize the gravity of the situation was Rumplestiltskin; they exchanged a heavy look, before Killian broke it to get them moving. The sooner they got there, the sooner they could leave...he hoped.

Once the ship was ready again, Emma handed the bean back to him, along with a look that threatened murder should anything go awry. He almost feared that more than anything the Dark One could do to him.

Focusing on Neverland, he squeezed the bean in his hand, then threw it into the ocean and began to steer the ship into the portal that quickly formed.

His companions began to ask questions about where they were headed and who they’d be facing; he wondered what falsehoods this realm knew, but was too focused on navigation—and the flutters in his stomach that were of indeterminable origin—to hear what they were saying.

He knew well enough what lay ahead. And all he could do was send a prayer to whatever deity was listening that he and his babe survived the trip.

And he felt a very firm kick as the swirling waters closed around them, carrying them on their next adventure.

————————————-

thanks as always for reading! tags: @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #hidden blessing #my ff

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

So You Wanna Be The Best

; Pokemon Trainer!Jungkook x Pokemon Trainer!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, crack

; Word Count: 8.1k

; Synopsis: Every Pokemon trainer has a rival, and it’s just your luck that you got stuck with your hometown nemesis Jeon Jungkook. As any good rival, he’s determined to beat you to the title of Pokemon Master and he might have a chance at both that and you...if he wasn’t so dang inept.

; A/N: So I finally hit 10k followers and I’ve had this floating around almost finished for months...so I finally finished it to say thanks! It’s nothing serious...and it’s probably not even good but...I hope you get some enjoyment out of it anyway! :) slight spoilers for Stranger Things season 2 and season 7 of Game of Thrones lol

Groaning quietly, you pull out the water bottle from your bag and take a deep pull. It’s a little warm from being stuck in your bag for so long and you’re beginning to run low, making you vow to drop by the PokéMart when you next get chance.

The next Mart isn’t for another half a day’s walk, though you could definitely shorten that distance if you used the fold away bicycle you’d finally invested in the other week. Blinking up at the blazing hot sun, you chew your lip lazily for a few minutes as you place your bottle firmly back onto the side of your bag.

It’s too hot to bicycle, you decide to yourself and begin to trek forward once more. Your shoes are getting a little worn out, the rubber thinning and you resolve to hit up Goldenrod City when you next get chance. The magnet train would take you there, but you’d have to reach Saffron City first.

And you’re nowhere near there.

It only takes another half an hour of walking before you’re tugging at your blue vest top, grimacing at the sight of it slowly turning transparent around your sweaty areas. Looking down at the ridiculous amount of boob sweat you’re generating under your bra, you decide to finally do something about it to try and cool down a little.

There’s no-one on the path, so you grasp the third Pokeball on your belt and press the button to expand it. “Come out Starmie!” You call and watch as a purple, multi-pointed star Pokémon appears. Letting out a little noise, it jumps around and leans backward to look up at you, red jewel glinting in the hot light.

“Hey girl, it’s really hot. Can you help me out and give me a little spray? Little! Not water gun please.” You warn, reaching a finger out to warn her. She had a mischievous temperament and was as likely to knock you flying with a water gun as she was to give you some spray.

Thankfully, she must be in a pretty happy mood as her second set of arms spins frantically while she makes a high pitched noise. Moving away from you, she leans forward slightly and a gentle spout of water erupts from her in an arc, tiny droplets falling and creating a rainbow curtain.

Grinning, you dash between the arc and giggle wildly, tugging your black and white cap off and letting your hair go damp with the cool water. Dancing around under the spray, you laugh and sigh happily as the water cools your hot skin to a pleasant temperature.

“You know, if this was Jurassic Park then you’d be the first one to get eaten by the T-Rex doing that.” A deep voice suddenly calls out, making you shriek in surprise and jump away from whoever it was. Almost immediately, Starmie reacts and shoots a high powered jet of water in the direction of whatever had made you scared.

A loud yelp sounds out around the quiet area as the young guy gets thrown backwards from the force, his white shirt immediately going see through and sticking to his defined abdomen while his navy jeans darken even further.

“Starmie, stop!” You call out, running over and running a soothing hand along her top arm. She lets out a frustrated sound before stopping, her second arms spinning to show her agitation. You pat her gently and give a smile. “Thank you girl, I really appreciated it. I’ll make sure to give you a Poke Candy when I get one, okay?”

She makes a happy sound at that and jumps, going back into the Pokeball without complaint as you turn to face your rude interloper. Striding over to where he lays on the ground, you stand next to him with hands resting on your hips while looking down at him with a brow raised.

He gasps on the floor, wiping at the water on his face before brushing the wet strands of his dark hair away from his forehead. “That Starmie is a menace.” Is all he says for a moment as he lays there, before groaning and sitting up on his hands.

Your eyes graze his figure, noting the defined abdominal muscles on show along with delightfully thick thighs in the tight jeans. He really must be a sucker for pain because those jeans must be chafing anyway in this heat, nevermind now that they’re wet.

“My Starmie just doesn’t like you because you’re always mean to her. And it was the Lost World, not Jurassic Park. Loser.” You mumble, rolling your eyes as he glares up at you with those pretty eyes that has everyone else thinking he’s sweeter than sweet. And okay, maybe he is sometimes,

Since you were little, Jeon Jungkook has always been the boy that has needled you in the worst way. When you’d gone to Professor Oak’s lab to choose your starter Pokémon, he’d proudly stood to the side and waited until you’d picked yours. Your Chikorita had seen him pick Cyndaquil, cackling at how fire beats grass. Probably the only time he’d ever got a type right.

Ever since, he’d been your official Pokémon rival trainer. You might respect him more as a trainer if he wasn’t a giant buffoon who was about as good at training Pokémon as you were at ballet dancing. And consider you fall over if you turn too fast, you’re really not good at dancing. But he wasn’t a terrible friend in fairness, just overly competitive.

“You’re a loser.” Is his quick witted reply and you sigh deeply, rolling your eyes. How did you get stuck with him again?

“Why are you here anyway? I thought you were supposed to be heading over to Kanto?” As much as you make a lot of noise about him, you actually kinda miss Jungkook when he’s gone for long periods. He may say some of the dumbest stuff you’ve ever heard, but he wasn’t the worst travel companion you’d ever had.

And travelling across the world could get a little lonely sometimes.

He sits and stares at you for a moment before standing, grimacing and sticking his tongue out in an ‘ick’ face as he peels his wet shirt off his chest. “This is gross. Actually disgusting. You need to train your Starmie better.”

Spluttering at his outrageous words, you viciously rub what hair of his you can reach until it’s going in a million directions while he whines at you and tries to dodge. “You take that back you little shit! Do you even have a water Pokémon? I know that when it comes to types, you become as useful as a chocolate fucking tea kettle.”

He slides out of reach and raises his hands in a karate gesture, causing you to fling your head to the side. Honestly, for a 21 year old man he’s incredibly immature. And he turns you just as immature.

“Anyway, I was gonna go to Kanto but then I found this sick Pokémon and I just had to show it off to you. He looks freaking awesome, I bet you have nothing like it.” He goads childishly, crossing his arms over his chest, almost transparent under the wet fabric, and smirking. You’ll admit, you’re distracted by the way the muscles in his arms bulge at the movement and you curse the fact that Pokémon gyms aren’t the only kind of gyms he goes to.

“You’re such a fucking kid. You’re like that kid in Stranger Things that finds that baby demogorgon and thinks it’s cool when everyone else is screaming that it’s dumb. I swear, you’d destroy the world if it involved something you thought looked cool.” You scoff and he glares at you.

“SPOILERS. Oh my fucking god, you know I haven’t seen season 2 you bitch! Keep it up, and I’ll fucking spoil that Viserion dies in Game of Thrones.” He hisses, pointing at you in anger and you scream while running at him, hands clawed to his throat.

“YOU JUST DID YOU ASSHOLE!” For a moment you’re both fighting with each other, neither of you realising how ridiculously dumb you look. It’s only when you hear a soft cough that you both freeze, glancing over at a youngster stood there with wide eyes. Jungkook is bent in half, his head firmly underneath your arm as you push at his head.

Immediately, you’re both jumping away from each other and looking away innocently. Coughing yourself, you tap at the ground awkwardly before grinning at the young girl. “Hey, don’t do drugs. You’ll end up like this guy.” You point at Jungkook.

The words have him jumping at you, teeth bared before they turned into a clenched smile at the girl. “Ignore her, she’s just angry that I got a cool Pokémon and she didn’t.” You stare at him in disbelief, ignorant of the way the girl nods slowly before quickly skating away.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” You curse, hands flailing in the air. He stands by and rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out immaturely.

“Whatever. Wanna fight? I wanna show you my Murkrow.” Jungkook grins, his face practically radiating excitement at his new Pokémon. Sighing, you shrug before dropping your bag to the floor.

“Sure...why not. It’s not like it’s a boiling hot day or anything. Of course, let’s fight with our Pokémon, because that makes sense.” You grumble to yourself, grabbing the Pokeball that you want to use as you watch him send his new acquisition out.

Immediately, a Murkrow appears out of the ball. You watch as the dark Pokémon flies around for a few moments before landing on the ground, giving you an evil glare from underneath his hat shaped feathers.

He does look pretty cool, but Jungkook has more knowledge about video games than he does Pokémon. So you send out your Pokémon with a tiny smirk, knowing he’ll immediately ridicule it. Which he does.

A tiny pink flower floats in the air while a white Pokémon with a green lower half clutches tightly onto the flower. It gives a little chirp at the sight of you before zooming to face the rumbling Pokémon in front of it.

At the sight, Jungkook cracks up and his cackling laugh is probably all that can be heard for a mile around. He laughs for about a minute, arms wrapped around the still damp top of his middle half as he bends over before wiping away the tears.

“A fucking flower? You sent out a flower? What even is that? Murkrow is dark and flying Y/N, oh my god. And you tell me I’m useless with types.” He snorts, rolling his eyes. Smirking at him, you watch as he orders his Murkrow to use pursuit, the dark type move causing it to fly with purpose towards your Pokémon.

“Flabébe, avoid it!” You call out and immediately she darts out of the way, floating gently away from the Murkrow which squawks with outrage. Grinning, it’s with a glance to your Pokémon that you call out. “Okay Flabébe, use moonblast!”

Flabébe squeaks cutely and spins in a circle, looking up into the sky. Today, the moon is just barely visible in the sky as the sun outshines everything else, but it seems to glow a little as your tiny Pokémon draws on its power. As she gets brighter, she suddenly spins in a circle before a glowing, pure white light erupts from her in a direct beam.

It hits Jungkook’s Murkrow head on and you both have to cover your eyes at the blinding light. Once it finishes, Flabébe is left floating happily while Murkrow is collapsed on the floor, having fainted from the instant KO. Smirking, you watch as Jungkook’s jaw drops.

“What the fuck!” He curses, running over to his Murkrow and drawing him back into the Pokeball while he looks up at your Pokémon with wide eyes. “It’s a fucking flower, what the fuck was that?!” Jungkook sounds outraged and you giggle, walking over and letting Flabébe rest on your hand gently.

“You’re still useless with types. Murkrow is dark, Flabébe is fairy. Fairy has a type advantage.” You grin brightly as his disgruntled look, the gentle pout on his lips as he scowls at losing adorable.

“I’ll beat you one day.” He grumbles to himself, cheeks tinging pink with embarrassment at losing. You laugh and pat at his chest lightly as you give Flabébe a tiny stroke of thanks, sending her back into her ball and picking up your bag.

“Sure thing Jungkook, and I look forward to it. I also look forward to the day Michael Bay makes a film without one of those stupid slow mo scenes with an explosion in the background but I doubt that’ll happen soon so...keep hoping! Everyone has to have a dream right!” You call out, waving to him as you begin to make your way down the path.

“Michael Bay’s movies are great! Transformers is fantastic!” He shouts out and you smile despite yourself, shaking your head.

“That right there, is why I never take you seriously. That and you consider Batman & Robin to be the best Batman film!” He curses you out as you walk away from him, causing you to chuckle to yourself. Jungkook might annoy the hell out of you, but you sure do enjoy beating him time after time. Everyone needs some experience right? And he makes it so easy for you.

Especially when he looks that good.

You reach Violet City by the end of the day, just as the sun begins to creep past the horizon and the sky erupts in swashes of pinks, purples and oranges. It’s with more than a little happiness that you situate yourself on a grass verge outside of your hostel and munch down on a kimbap and some lemonade that you’d bought from the local store.

You’d swung by the PokeMart as well to buy some potions to heal your wounded while also stocking up on rare candies to treat them all. For half an hour, you simply enjoy the time to yourself. No other trainers are staying at the hostel apparently, so the street is quiet and peaceful with the scent of the nearby flower garden dancing through the air lazily.

Swallowing the last of the kimbap, you dust off your hands before pulling out the packaway bowls and pouring a small amount of Pokémon kibble inside each one. There’s six bowls to go with your six Pokémon, and each one is well aware of which is their bowl. It makes feeding them easy as they all require different amounts as well.

Pouring out water for them as well, you take out your Pokeballs and call them all out, balls popping open as each one of your beloved team emerges. Starmie lets out an excited scream and begins to eat eagerly, which makes you feel bad as you’d asked her to help you so much earlier.

Flabébe chirps softly before floating down to rest at the edge of her bowl, tiny hands grasping a piece of kibble and little mouth taking the softest bites. You have to stop yourself from cooing at the sight before turning your attention to your others.

An annoyed snort lets you know that your Rapidash is irritated and his diamond hard hooves cause sparks to erupt every time he paws at the ground. Walking over to him, you pat the soft, white fur on his neck before running your hand through the blazing hot flames. His trust in you means that it just feels a little warmer than normal and you grin as he noses your pockets, nostrils flaring.

“Okay big guy, okay. Let me heal you first okay?” You murmur, tugging the potion bottle off your belt and heading to his back hooves. A cut from the fight you’d used him in today is prominent and you sigh, running fingers over the top as you crouch down to get a better look. “I’m sorry Rapi, you did good though!”

He’d won the battle for you though, charging forward in a blur of speed to become what looked like a flaming meteor. But he’d suffered before, the Pidgeotto hurting him before it eventually fainted. Spraying the potion on the cut, you watch as it bubbles slightly before healing right up, causing you to smile.

“Good boy, anywhere else hurting?” You ask, running your hand along his back before coming back to his head. Big, bright and kind eyes stare back at you, filled with love and affection. For a moment, you’re left breathless as they remind you of a certain rival trainer. Rapidash shakes his head and you smile, rubbing his silky soft nose before pointing at his bowl.

“Okay, good. Go eat.” Soft clomping is heard as he heads over to his bowl and you cross your arms, watching them all eat. Your Meganium, the final evolved form of the Chikorita that had started your whole journey years ago, has finished eating and is happily playing with your Raichu.

Sitting down next to them all, you sigh deep and let your head fall, the content noises of your Pokémon all you can hear. A soft nose bumping your hand causes you to look down, spying the black body with yellow rings of your Umbreon. Grinning at him, you cross your legs and watch as he purrs happily before jumping into your lap, his big body taking up way too much space.

Running your fingers through his soft fur, you simply watch as his breathing begins to deepen and he slips into a quick nap already. Sometimes, you remember back to when he was a tiny, fluffy Eevee and nostalgia grips your heart. But you love your little dark Pokémon so much, so you know it was the best decision to evolve him.

“Hey butthead, thanks for just leaving me.” Your peaceful moment is interrupted by the voice of your rival, causing you to groan out loud as your head rolls back. There’s silence, before your looking at the upside down figure of Jungkook’s face only inches away from your own.

Letting out a cry, you shift forward and mumble an apology to Umbreon as he grumbles at being jostled around. “Christ Jungkook, what do you think this is? The Spiderman movies?” You grunt at him, fingers getting a little tighter on Umbreon’s fur until he growls at you softly.

The guy sits down with a flop, letting out a deep and long groan as he extends out his long legs and relaxes. Starmie begins to make irritated noises and you make a negative gesture to her, shaking your head. You really don’t want to hear Jungkook’s whines if he ends up wet again. Especially as he’s obviously staying the night at the hostel too.

He surprisingly stays quiet for a moment before he interrupts it as usual. You swear the boy has never spent more than five minutes being quiet or not moving except when he’s sleeping. Even now, his feet are slowly rocking from side to side in a rather childlike movement.

“Your Pokémon are such girly Pokémon, you know that?” He says before getting into a crouch. His own bag, army camouflage and ridiculously big, opens up and he begins to pull out his own Pokémon bowls and food. You sometimes forget that he is actually a trainer too, despite how bad he is at it.

Raising an eyebrow at his words, you watch as he releases his own Pokémon and instructs them to eat. Your own watch warily before you smile at them and gesture. “It’s okay, you can play.” Almost immediately, his Pikachu runs over to your Raichu and they both begin conversing intently.

“Since when did Pokémon have gender norms you butthead? Besides, you’re one to talk. Overcompensating much?” You state wryly, pointing to his ominously large Gyarados that has taken over the fountain in front of the hostel before gesturing to his Arbok that is coiled up.

Jungkook gives you a droll stare. “Yeah, your shitty attitude.” He’s obviously visited the Pokémon Centre as his Murkrow is back, squawking happily as it chows down on kibble. His Typhlosion, the evolved form of Cyndaquil, is sunning himself lazily on a flat rock nearby.

The Scyther he’d caught in the Safari Park in Kanto is currently glaring at everyone from afar. You don’t know why he keeps it around, as it has to have the grumpiest disposition you’ve ever seen in a Pokémon.

“Weird, didn’t know I meant that much to your life to make you revolve your whole team around me. Besides, if you didn’t like this shitty attitude, why do you keep following me around?” Taking a sip of the now warm lemonade from your side, he simply watches for a moment.

His clothes have dried again but there’s still something rather appealing about the way he sits next to you, one arm resting on a knee while his other leg rests on the floor. Scoffing at you, he tugs out a granola bar and chews down on it, making soft noises of annoyance at the bland flavour.

Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you reach into your bag and throw him the remaining kimbap, trying to ignore the way his face lights up in an adorable bunny-esque smile. “Because of that. You’re too kind-hearted to turn me away yeah?”

Watching him through narrowed eyes, you scoff lightly and push at his broad shoulder. “More like your mom would ream my ass out worse than Mrs Weasley if I let you die.” He glares at you at that, giving you the finger before taking a huge bite of the kimbap.

“Fuck you too.” He gets out, voice muffled as his cheeks are stuffed full of seaweed, rice and spicy tuna. “Anyway, you’d be so lucky to see my dick and see if it stacks up.” At that, he nods to his Gyarados that is now napping in the water, giant body breathing softly despite the permanently angry look on its face.

“Are you...are you seriously comparing your dick size to your Pokémon? Wow Jungkook, I don’t know about being a Pokémon master but if you’re being serious then maybe you should consider a role in PokePorn. They’re always looking for...well endowed folk.” You glance meaningfully down at his crotch then and miss the slight flushing of his cheeks.

“You are the worst person. How do you even know that exists? It’s...it’s a bad place okay? The internet is a wonderful place but that...that is a dark place. You must never go there young Padawan.” His face is blank as he stares out, raises his hand as if he’s showing you some grand painting or something.

It’s with a heavy sigh that you simply roll your eyes at him. “You mixed up two films dumbass. It’s from the Lion King, not Star Wars.” You finish your lemonade and simply go back to stroking Umbreon’s long ears, smiling softly as his back leg begins to shake as you itch at a troublesome spot for him.

You don’t see the fond way that Jungkook watches you quietly, nor the way he jerks his head away when you bring your eyes back up to the human sized pain in your butt. “I didn’t mix two films up. Mufasa is voiced by the same guy who does Darth Vadar...ergo Star Wars!” He exclaims, raising his hands wide while his eyes go big endearingly.

Laughing softly, you shake your head and point at him. “That’s like saying that because Liam Neeson plays both Qui-Gon Jinn and Aslan the lion, then Aslan is a Jedi master badass.” A smile plays on your lips as you watch Jungkook nod enthusiastically, shuffling around to face you as he sits cross legged with a childlike look of happiness.

“Exactly! Have you ever listened to Aslan? He could easily be a Jedi. Everything is connected, I tell you.” He nods sagely at that, pretty pink lips pouting adorably and you get the bizarre urge to reach out and poke that soft, rounded cheek of his.

Humming lightly, you tap your lips to your fingers. “So by your logic, then Xenomorphs are real in this world right?” He pales slightly at that and you giggle, remembering how freaked out he got when you both watched the Alien films at the hostel in Celadon City when it had been raining too hard for either of you to leave. Jungkook had whined at you for weeks after that, too afraid to sleep.

“Well...no.” He mumbles, fingers playing with the grass.

“Yes! Natalie Portman was in Star Wars and also in Thor: The Dark World. Chris Hemsworth was in Thor: The Dark World and also The Cabin In The Woods….and Sigourney Weaver was in that. Which leads me to...Alien.” Sitting back on your hands, you smirk at him with a raised brow as his mouth simply opens and closes a few times.

“You ruin the fun sometimes.” Is all Jungkook mutters, carding his fingers through his hair and leaving it styled rather attractively. It’s hard not to focus on just how attractive Jungkook is sometimes, especially when he unleashes his forehead like now. It makes you want to reach other and ruffle his hair back.

Stupid Jeon Jungkook and his stupid good looks. Who did he think he was?

Silence falls between the both of you and it kind of surprises you. Umbreon shifts in your lap and lets out a little content sigh, causing you to look down and give a tiny smile as you run your fingers through his soft black and yellow fur.

Looking back up, you note the sun is even lower to the ground now and it’s almost blinding at eye level. The sky is now a stunning painting of stark colours, as if the sky Pokémon have decided to become artists in their free time and smear an abundance of colours together in a work of art that could grace any museum.

Turning your eyes over to Jungkook, your breath stutters as you capture the sheer beauty of him. He’s turned his head to watch the sunset as well, pouting lips parted ever so slightly. The softly dying rays cause his golden skin to almost glow while the gentle breeze blows soft strands of dark hair across his forehead.

The bridge of his nose extends out before rounding off softly while the sculpted line of his jaw is even more prominent than before, making you swallow quietly as it really, completely strikes you that Jungkook really is no longer that obnoxious young boy you knew who dreamt of being a Pokémon Master. He’s still obnoxious of course, but he’s grown into himself so much.

Strong biceps peek out from under his shirt while broad shoulders fill it out in a way they hadn’t only 3 years ago. The tightness of the shirt simply magnifies his tiny waist, a waist you already knew was hiding a spectacular pair of abs from the many times he liked to waltz into your hostel room shirtless.

The blue jeans are currently clinging for dear life to his spectacular thighs, truly they’re a work of art that would look wonderful next to the sky painting, and you can almost imagine the seams of his jeans screaming from the strain. Where he gets the time to end up buffer than a Machamp is beyond you. It hits you square in the face then though - the realisation that Jeon Jungkook is quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

When he turns his attention back to you, your eyes track over his stunning face. Buck teeth that are endearing peek through his open mouth while his eyes, so achingly wide with innocence right now, watch you in turn.

“Don’t you think the sun looks like the yolk of an egg from the side?” He muses to himself, brow creasing in concentration while his lips pucker out. Almost immediately, the moment is lost and you internally sigh. Right there is why you can never take him seriously, no matter how beautiful he is.

Groaning, you let yourself fall backwards onto the soft grass and ignore the protest from Umbreon as you do so. “I swear, you’re like...the biggest moron ever.” You whine, pushing his hand away as he moves to poke your side.

“What? It does! A big ball of yummy yolk. Mmm, I want ramyeon now. Do you wanna go get ramyeon?” He asks idly, humming to himself as he taps his chin lightly. Your face creases in a combination of awe, disgust and confusion - impressive the emotions he can pull from you at once.

“You literally just ate a roll of kimbap...and you want to eat a whole bowl of ramyeon? God...do you have a bottomless pit there or something? If I stare into it, will it stare back at me?” He ignores your sarcastic remarks as he begins to call his Pokémon back, securing them safely away in their Pokeball homes.

“Come on! I walked so far today! And you beat me so like...you owe me.” At that, you stand up abruptly and press his chest your finger to his chest firmly, causing him to whine as he moves back.

“Are you fucking kidding? Since when does the winner buy the loser the meal?” You swear, it’s like he lives to annoy you. But then, you remember when he got asked if you were his girlfriend when you were 13 and he’s staunchly answered that you weren’t his girlfriend, you were his opponent.

Both of your parents were forever convinced that you were going to get married one day. You know, the usual ‘childhood-friends-to-lovers’ thing and honestly? You agreed. There was only two routes for Jungkook and you realistically. You either killed each other after an epic Battle Royale, which you would win because he’d be the one stuck with a frying pan from his backpack, or you fuck and eventually get married.

And given that you really enjoyed being alive and weren’t particularly interested in seeing him dead, you knew it would be the second option. Plus, the idea of someone else getting to fall in love with Jungkook annoyed you. He may be as annoying as Ashley in Resident Evil 4, and lord was she annoying, but he was your annoying.

No one could accuse you of not being a realist. Besides, you occasionally acknowledged that he was attractive and there had been more than one occasion where you had dreamt about doing something other than pushing at his abs casually.

“You’re bitching at me...but I’ve noticed you haven’t said no.” Jungkook sings sweetly, his voice pure as he spins in a circle slowly. You glare at him before pushing at his back, the solid muscles giving in easily as he lets you push him forward.

If you didn’t buy him a meal, he’d just whine at you until you eventually did. So you may as well just get this over with.

“Fine...let’s go. Everyone,” You call out, voice slightly louder as you look over your team with fondness. They all stop what they’re doing and turn to look at you in varying stages of alertness and you feel a twinge of sadness that they have to go back into their Pokéball’s. Your Pokémon are tired and haven’t had a lot of time to have fun lately so you sigh and point at them. “Stay here okay? Don’t run away, we’ll be back soon.”

They’d be fine within the area of the hostel, a common sight for trainers who were making their way through the world and they were all well behaved. All of them make an affirmative noise to you as you walk over to your Rapidash, smiling and patting his soft, milk coloured fur with affection. “Hey boy, will you take us into town please? I’ll make sure to get you the spiciest treat!”

His large eyes narrow slightly as he takes in Jungkook, who stands behind you paling slightly at the sight of the fiery mane and tail that dance lazily in the cooling breeze. A slight dip of his head lets you know he’s willing and you smile brightly, petting him harder before kissing his solid cheek and turning back to the young guy behind you.

“Come on, he’ll let us ride him there.” Jungkook looks over Rapidash warily and you laugh lightly, moving over to him before smirking. “What? Are you scared of him?”

“Errr...yeah. He’s got fire for a mane, he could give me fire crotch. Like...real life fire crotch. And he’s huge! And really fast!” The excuses fall from his lips easily but you can also see the curiosity in his eyes, causing you to smirk and poke his chest lightly.

“Yes, he does have fire for a mane and tail. Very hot fire. But he’s said he won’t hurt us, so he won’t. He loves me, so he’s definitely not hurting me.” At that, Rapidash slams a diamond hard hoof down onto the floor, the flames on his fetlocks flaring slightly. “Come on, you’ll enjoy it. He won’t go too fast, right boy?”

Rubbing at the base of his horn, Rapidash nickers quietly as he shakes his head before nodding exaggeratedly and you chuckle in amusement. You do love the personality your Pokémon have sometimes and you’re beyond thankful that they’re just like you.

Jungkook moves up quietly, for once no longer cracking any wise jokes and you smirk as you lift a leg to him. He looks confused until you gesture towards your Pokémon and his mouths opens in a small ‘o’. Rapidash is almost as tall as Jungkook, and there’s no way you’re getting on top of him without leading him over to something.

He gives you a lift up and you sit on Rapidash’s slim back with happiness, letting your fingers run through the odd sensation of his flame mane. It just felt slightly warm, which really did feel strange at your crotch.

Hopping up behind you, Jungkook lets out a small noise of fear as Rapidash begins to move towards the town centre and his arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your recent realisation that you might actually genuinely like the guy behind you makes his pseudo-hug feel like he’s lighting you up from the inside and you wonder if maybe you should have just walked instead.

But he feels nice pressed against you, so you don’t say anything. In fact, you just enjoy it.

How you’ve managed to end up falling over the years for the dumbass who thought he’d picked up a bottle of ketchup once only to discover it was actually chili sauce was beyond you. But opposites attract and all that you guessed.

“So err...why don’t you ride him more often? I mean...he’s fast right? You could’ve gone everywhere by now...left me behind.” Jungkook’s voice is so close to your ear that you jump, looking back at him with wide eyes before your cheeks heat slightly at how his plush lips are so close to your own.

“He’s my Pokémon, not my ride. You gotta treat them like friends, they’re your partner not your workhorse. Like the girlfriend or boyfriend who’ll never let you down.” You give him a raised brow at that and he whines quietly.

“Hey...it’s not my fault that everyone I’ve dated has been about as solid as half the MCU at the end of Infinity War.” Snorting, you shake your head and look back towards the slowly approaching town centre.

“Wow, too soon man. And you ever notice there’s something that links all these particularly flaky people together? Namely...you know...you?” He doesn’t respond to that for a moment before sighing, his hands almost subconsciously stroking your stomach and your abdominal muscles tense at the sensation.

“I know I act an idiot...and that I failed most classes, I’m aware you don’t need to point that out, but I’m not actually one. I just...don’t like educational environments. I like being out here, in the real world. Learning out here with people and Pokémon. And maybe I just didn’t want proper relationships with any of them. I’m only 21, there was no need to go full on Notebook with someone yet.” He sounds serious for once and you give him the respect of taking him seriously too, humming lightly.

“I know you’re not stupid Jungkook, even if you act very odd sometimes. You’re...not a terrible Trainer. Definitely need to actually do some studying on your types, which I’ve been telling you for years but whatever. And no, you don’t need to be in a proper relationship yet. There’s a lot of life out there.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to hum this time, only he sounds slightly reluctant. Reaching the centre, you both dismount from Rapidash and pet him while he goes to graze on the public grassland in the centre, underneath the overhanging branches of the blossoming tree while the pond ripples when a Goldeen swims to the surface.

You sit on a bench facing the pretty scene, smiling at two Pichu as they chase each other around in the longer grass surrounding the pond while a Girafarig bends awkwardly to drink.

The sudden tapping of your shoulder brings you back and you turn to see Jungkook offering you a cup of ramyeon, steam rising off the spicy noodles and you smile a thanks as you take it and dig in with the chopsticks he gives you too. How he’d managed to bring them over you have no idea as he’s got two cups for himself, his lips already swelling and going red from the spice of them.

“How do you eat that much? Seriously, don’t you like...want to vomit?” You query, watching him with wide eyes before scooping a helping of noodles into your own mouth. The spice makes your nose run already a little and you scowl at him, wondering why the hell he got the extra spicy version.

Jungkook just gives you a gross smile, noodles dangling from those spice-inflamed lips before he slurps it down happily. “I get the shits, what do you expect? And I get a bit bloated too but...it’s filling and I like the taste.”

Coughing slightly, you wave your chopsticks at him and note the red tint of the ends of them with amusement. “You like your ass feeling like Mordor and your tongue disintegrating?”

Snorting, he shakes his head and stuffs another mouthful in before letting out a content noise that’s borderline disgusting. “Mount Doom you mean. Mordor’s just the place, Mount Doom is the volcano. And no, I don’t like my ass feeling like that but here we go. Did you know that your ass feels like that when you’ve eaten spice because it has the same nerve endings as your mouth?”

Pausing with your noodles halfway to your mouth, your brow turns in before you shake your head. “You’re impossible you know that. How do your Pokémon stay with you?”

“Because I may not be the best Trainer, and I may never be the best when you’re around, but I love them. Even if they’re not the Pokémon everyone thinks is cute.” God dammit, why did he have to go and say something adorably sweet like that? You’d almost got over that weird little crush you’d realised earlier only for it to come flooding back at his words.

You should’ve realised long ago that it was all futile...that you’d long been fighting a losing battle and that your parents were right. It was a good measure of a person with how they treated their mom and how they treated their Pokémon.

Jungkook adored his mom, he called her every night for at least half an hour to update her on all the cool things he’d done that day, and despite his lack of common sense when it came to battles, he really did love his Pokémon. He’d even adopted some who’d been abandoned because they were considered ugly or scary, like the Houndoom he’d sent to go live with his parents when no one wanted it because it scared people.

You’re not entirely sure what takes over you, but you place your cup of ramyeon to the side and shuffle up to him. He’s so unused to you being this nice to him that he gives you the side eye before looking you over suspiciously.

It’s almost hilarious how he almost hugs his last cup of ramyeon to him closer, as if you want that.

“Hey...Jungkook. Has there ever been like...a reason why you never take dating seriously?” You want to laugh at how he tenses up so suddenly, his shoulders almost to his ears as he instead focuses determinedly on the Totodile that waddles up to him. Giving it a sweet smile, he reaches down and strokes the Pokémon’s head before it walks off with happy eyes.

“No...no reason.” His Pikachu suddenly arrives out of nowhere, slightly out of breath before jumping up into arms with a sweet ‘Pika’ before he begins berating Jungkook with quick sounds that have you laughing. Jungkook seems to be happy that he’s got a distraction and he makes soft soothing noises before his Pokémon lets out a sleepy yawn, blinking at you blearily before crawling out of his arms and into yours.

Watching as the yellow and black electric mouse Pokémon falls asleep, Jungkook’s lip kicks up in a smile before he’s shaking his head. “Even my own Pokémon like you more than me.”

You cringe slightly and shrug as best you can, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

He lifts a hand up to stop you before giving a soft smile, looking way too sappy at you as his eyes practically shine while he watches you with his favourite Pokémon. In fact, he’s rather watching you in the same way that he watches his favourite Star Wars movie and your stomach twists slightly, your hand stroking Pikachu’s head before you finally ask.

“Do you like me? Is that why you never dated properly?” You’re pretty Jungkook wishes that he could burrow into the ground like a Ditto and just...never emerge or something. Become a legendary Pokémon that’s only spoken of in hushed whispers.

“So you’re just gonna ask it like that, huh? Really confident of yourself there?” He says, eyes wide and you just smile at him so softly that he practically deflates.

“On a scale of one to the ending of Red Dead Redemption 2, how obvious was it?” Biting your lip, you try hard to stop your smile but fail as you watch him squirm about awkwardly with what is possibly the sappiest look you’ve ever seen him give you. Honestly, how he ever thought he was subtle was beyond you.

“Jungkook...you’re a terrible liar. I’m pretty sure anyone with eyes has probably noticed.” His cheeks are bright red now before he covers them with his hands, his normally confident self collapsing in embarrassment and you place a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“You can let me down easy, I mean...please. Don’t be mean, not now.” Jungkook mumbles into his hands, refusing to look at you and you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“Why do you think I’m going to turn you down?” The question is legitimate, and you watch as he rolls his eyes in turn at you before holding out a hand and counting down the reasons.

“You think I’m an idiot, you always bitch at my types because I never remember, you always beat me so I’m weak and I don’t think I have any redeeming qualities for you. You’re gonna be a Pokémon Master one day and I’ll...I dunno...be working in a PokéMart or something.” His words are practically silent by the end but you let out a soft tut before pushing at his shoulder, wiggling your body across the bench to keep Pikachu asleep until you can comfortably rest your head on him.

You’ve done this before, and it always felt nice. It feels nice now, but slipping your hand into his feels even nicer.

“You’re smart where it counts and you’ve stopped me making stupid decisions out here, like that time when I was going to buy a Love Ball until you pointed out how dumb it is and that it’s just a waste of money. And you’re totally right on that. You don’t care about types and it’s stupid for fights...but it’s because you just pick Pokémon that you like and stick with them, even if they’re not the best. You’re loyal, because you’ve stayed with me all these years. And PokéMart’s are important to the economy so don’t knock them or the people that work there. They’d be privileged to have you.” Jungkook is suspiciously quiet and you try to get a glimpse of his face, curious to see if he’s crying.

“Are you crying?” He’s shaking his head furiously and you chuckle, pushing your face into his arm. “Is this like that time you totally weren’t crying at Endgame and it was just popcorn dust in your eye?”

“This is exactly like that. I’ve just got...ramyeon dust in my eye.” He mutters, using his free hand to wipe at said ‘not-crying’ eyes.

“I don’t think it works like that, but okay.” You shrug and quieten down, focusing on the little tuft of hair his Pikachu has on top of its head, almost like a super tiny mohawk.

“Do you mean that?” A nod is his silent response. “Would you...consider it a privilege to have me?”

Your heart practically clenches at his soft words and you grin, shifting until you’re both looking at each other. He’s nervous, his eyes glancing everywhere until you finally pull his attention back to you. It’s weird to see him like this, but you find it endearing either way. For once, he’s being serious about something, and it’s you of all things.

“I would. And I do, hence why I’ve never quite properly gotten rid of you.”

Before you can do anything else, your face is suddenly smashed against his awkwardly and you both let out a surprised noise, your mouth against his cheek and nose against his eye. It’s not even slightly comfortable, or romantic, and you both push away to spy your Rapidash standing behind the bench, an almost mischievous look in his eye.

“Did your...Rapidash just smash your face against mine?!” Jungkook asks, eyes wide as he watches the Pokémon in suspicion. Smirking, you turn back around to look at him with a raised brow and shrug.

“Well...I do pick smart Pokémon right? He’s just trying to tell us to get a move on already.” He goes to ask with what, you know him that well, but instead you take both hands and cup his cheeks gently.

Almost immediately he shuts up, eyes going wide as you slowly lean into him. You give him plenty of time to back away, but he just lets his eyelids flutter shut before his lips purse into a sweet pout, waiting for the kiss you’re about to give him.

And you really are, until a sudden blast of icy cold water causes you both to go flying off the bench with a loud shriek. Sitting on the floor, your shirt soaked to your skin, you spot the culprit and let out a groan of frustration.

“Starmie! He wasn’t hurting me! Why are you even here?!”

“I told you! That Starmie is a menace! I can’t believe she just...ruined the best moment of my life!”

“She isn’t a menace, she’s just protective! You just don’t lik-”

“Can you just shut up and kiss me please? I’ve waited years for this.”

“Oh...okay. Yeah...Starmie, don’t you dare!”

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