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l0velylecter · 1 year

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Bestie please I will beg for soap content of any variety I am starving out here

cod : mw ii men mbti breakdown, (vol.i)

scenario & imagine : how would the cod : mw ii men interact with a partner that supposedly is most compatible with them ? background : In personality typology, the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) is an introspective self-report questionnaire indicating differing psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions. mbti : esfp ( soap ) x reader ( istj ) rating : m for mature and suggestive themes pairing : john ‘soap’ mctavish / f!reader tags : kissing, making out, fluff, angst, smut goes as far as vague descriptions fandom : cod mwii warnings : cursing, suggestive themes, mdni (minors don’t interact)

Originally posted by judethejudas

01|

Imagine meeting Soap in the alps with the evergreens densely stretching down the ridge, the little cabin you were hiding in — nailed to the foot of the mountain. You aimed the gun at him with shaky hands, snow slowly falling all around, catching itself between your eyelashes. Time began to slow as he carefully approached you, one hand extended while the other dropped his weapon onto the ground. From the very beginning, Soap has always been open. He presents himself honestly, painfully optimistic — it scares you. He scares you. So you kept your aim steady, resisting, suspecting. Yet, your foot was bleeding, torn open by the thorn bush when you escaped from Makarov's men to dash into the forest.

‘Easy now. We won’t hurt you.’

Soap had sat next to you the entire helicopter ride back, trying to lighten the mood even after rescuing you from a violent hostage situation. He talked and talked and talked :

' Are you okay ?'

' What's your name ?'

'What do you want me to call you?'

' How are you holding up?'

' It’s fair jeelit ootside, aye ?'

Yet, you were glad he did not leave even after receiving nothing but silence in return. Because when Soap saw your hand: unmoving and limp against the clean cloth, he had asked permission to dab the blood away from your arms and cheek (— blood that belonged to the men he killed to rescue you.) It was difficult to believe, for each movement was gentle, reassuring, and nothing like what your captors had put you through. When Soap finally stood up to switch seats with another soldier, you had involuntarily reached out with your right hand — staring at him while pathetically gripping the strap of his vest.

It was the first time he grinned so widely.

02|

Reserved, practical, and quiet: you were the perfect engineer to spearhead Makarov’s nuclear science. It never mattered to you that the team remains unconvinced by your change of consciousness; it would be stupid for them not to. Trying your best to conceal how unwelcomed and abandoned you felt, the only one who seemed to notice was Soap.

Shattered at the horrifying fact that Makarov had weaponised your research, you blamed yourself for being so oblivious. You never understood how Soap was so willing to help you pick up the pieces.

Cautious yet eager to get to know you: he followed you around, even going as far as to defend you when someone suggested throwing you back into the hands of terrorists. You tried everything to push him away: frowning, avoiding, and even telling Price to keep him away because he distracts your work, and if he keeps showing up unannounced, you will never make enough progress to catch Makarov.

Yet, within the narrow walls of the base, you always run into him — ( and only an idiot will fail to notice that each unwanted meeting was planned by the soldier.)

It was blinding how spontaneous, energetic, and bold he carried himself. Even if it was like looking directly at the sun, you find yourself missing his presence, his laughter.

So when he placed a hand against your shoulder to greet you after a month-long recon mission, unable to pull away, you let yourself soak in the warmth of his touch; hoping Soap doesn't notice just how much you missed him.

03|

On the nights when your thoughts run astray and your plans crumble under the tragically unforeseeable pattern of life, you find yourself outside his door. A fist hovering above the wooden surface. The moment you turn to leave the door swings open.

‘ I can’t sleep.’

‘ Me neither.’

The first night, he insisted that you take the bed.

‘ the chair will do lass, trust me.’

But when his back started hurting, you shot him an ‘ i told you so’, pulling the blanket upwards and scooting to the left. With your backs against each other, the rise and fall of his chest became a rhythm to sleep to. None of you spoke about how some mornings, you’ll wake up with his arm around your waist, chin tucked nicely above your head.

You started letting yourself in his room, patiently waiting in the dark if he had yet to return from the field. He did the same when you were locked up in Price's office, drowning in papers and guiltily wishing you were in his bed.

He never does anything suggestive, never crosses the line inappropriately, and makes you uncomfortable. But you can sense something was off: from how he tenses up, freezes, and goes completely still when your knees brush against his inner thigh. It wasn't hard to notice his breath hitching when your fingers had experimentally stretched across his midriff, nails scraping the skin: hot and taut.

You propped yourself up with an elbow, staring down into his eyes. The wind outside howled, rattling the windows during an otherwise silent night. He squirmed; you noticed how Soap gets uncomfortable when it’s too quiet. And this close, with his nose inches from yours he let out a small laugh.

‘ Not to ruin the mood, but you have to talk to me here. If all you want is just someone to warm the bed, then I’m startin’ to feel a little used here, hen.’

Your brows furrowed, and for the first time in a long time, you felt stupid.

‘ I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.’

He reached out to place a hand under your chin, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before guiding your hand flat against his bare chest, ‘Knowing how clever you are lass, I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.’

You never had to read his expressions; lips parted and cheeks flushed, you dove down to kiss Soap, squealing in surprise when he returned it enthusiastically — “ Bloody hell, you don’t know how much I’ve fucking wanted this. Wanted you.”

Pulling away, you huffed, feigning annoyance even with your hands on both sides of his face.

04|

Soap is generous with his kisses, even more so with sex. Always eager to touch and feel you, he never shies away from putting your needs first: always trying to please. Even with his bulge — hard and heavy between your legs, Soap won’t fold until he can feel you dripping over his fingers.

The man never waits for you to enter the room before crashing his lips into you. Impatient and jittery, he uses teeth and tongue to excitedly welcome you back — as if you did not start the day next to each other in bed. Once, he had you pressed up against the hallway, both knees over his shoulders.

In communicating, Soap has always been more honest and direct, while you tend to be insensitive and highly critical. Always wanting to make up for your callousness, he brushes it off, knowing that most of the time, you were just frustrated and did not know how to let off some steam. Which is why Soap was always so encouraging with his words.

' That's it bonny, use your words. Tell me what you want.'

' You're so good and needy for me, hen. Atta girl, that's it.'

' Fucking hell — you're something else, know that?'

You love how he squeezes your hips as you ride him. You love admiring his hickeys across your chest. You love waking up to his bear hugs and scrubbing his hair in the shower: playfully scolding him to focus and close his eyes or else the liquid gets in his eyes. You love him, and because of this, a small part of you aches. Because no matter how many times Soap said it, you still could not find the courage to say it back.

Yet every time he looks away as you cry because you're still embarrassed to do it in front of him or hugs you from behind to offer silent support, even if it physically pains him to let the air turn still, you pray he knows.

05|

Outside, the air was thick with frost, and the scent of pinewood and conifer bark was almost overwhelming. With the noise coming from the waterfall and river, Soap explained how this provided good cover. You wrapped the puffer tighter around yourself, fingers intertwined with his.

‘ Why did the snowman look into the bag of carrots ?’

‘Why?’

‘He was picking his nose.’

You bit the inside of your cheek.

‘ That’s a good one.’

‘ You think so ?’

A gust of wind swept through the snow to signal that the helicopters were here. You squeezed Soap’s hand.

‘ I love you. I want you to know that.'

In the distance, Ghost signaled that they only had a few minutes left before takeoff. His eyes softened while yours started to water. Soap tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, leaning forward to talk over the noise.

‘ I know. I love you too.'

a/n : hello anon <3 I hope this lives up to your expectation and won't be too niche or specific, but thank you for giving me the opportunity to write about Soap, i hope i wrote him well. i had so much fun writing this because this was literally also just an excuse for me to squish a fic i know i will never have time to write so i had to be smart and find a way. ( you can tell i love the opposites attract trope.) If you enjoyed this then tell me in the inbox who I should add next into this series ! Suggestions are always welcome <3

This is the song I had on repeat while writing this by the way :

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watermelonsloth · 8 months

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No, Sasuke Did A Lot Wrong

(Disclaimer: There's nothing wrong with liking Sasuke as a character or sympathizing with his backstory. I'm also not talking about all Sasuke fans, only the extreme "pro-sasuke/anti-konoha/anti-itachi" fans.)

I'm getting pretty sick of the defenses used by Sasuke fans to justify his behavior throughout shippuden. The defenses themselves are fine enough, Sasuke did have plenty of reasons for his anger and resulting actions, but his fans always seem to be trying to absolve him of blame. The worst of them even act as if you're some morally reprehensible monster if you dare say Sasuke made a lot of terrible decisions that hurt a lot of people. God help the poor soul who dares to like Itachi or Tobirama.

I'm not going to defend Konoha or their actions here and, from what I can tell, no one else is. The entire shinobi world is fucked up in a frustratingly realistic way, so it makes sense that anyone trying to do something to fix it would immediately earn audience sympathy and relatability. However, most of those characters are villains. Why? It's not because the Naruto series is pro-violence, authoritarianism, war, or complacency. It's because they're terrorists. They react to personal wrongdoing, sometimes perceived but often not, by creating violent plans that are undeniably extremist. Madara and Obito basically wanted to hard reset the world by placing everyone into an eternal genjutsu and Nagato wanted to nuke the planet every time a country asked for war until all conflict disappeared. Those are objectively bad plans that would put the world into an even worse state and I hope I don't have to explain why.

Sasuke's "revolution" was no better. As a quick reminder, these were Sasuke's plans to "fix" the shinobi world: first he wanted to destroy Konoha, then he wanted to become a tyrant over Konoha, and lastly he wanted to act as a threat so dangerous that the world was forced into cooperation to fight him off. Not one of these plans is good. All of them would catch many innocent lives in the crossfire and none of them would build a better world. The best argument to defend Sasuke's goals is "complacency to wrongdoing makes you just as guilty as the wrongdoer." Ignoring that that argument is flawed, especially in the context it would theoretically be used, that argument still wouldn't change the fact that his methods are violent and extremist.

What makes all of this worse is that Sasuke's goals are also extremely hypocritical. Tell me if this sounds familiar: to prevent future conflict, one Uchiha erases a group of people because select members of that group were a potential risk. That Uchiha, in this process, agrees to take on all responsibility for this action and all anger resulting from the fallout. Was I talking about Sasuke's initial goal to change Konoha? No, I was talking about the Uchiha Massacre. His goal to become a feared tyrant over Konoha to reform it into a more peaceful state according to his image bears a striking resemblance to Danzo Shimura, of all people. His final plan is the only one that can be considered uniquely his, but if you simplify it to its core(an individual taking the burden of all of the world's hatred onto their shoulders), then it mirrors the intention of Madara(and sort of Obito, but mostly Madara). Sasuke is repeating history by mimicking the solution that he's already experienced being in the crossfire of, the goals of a monster he scorned for his morals, and the plan he personally watched fall to pieces.

Of course, this is a post about Sasuke's actions, not the plans he never enacted. The most he could be punished for is conspiracy. So, let's talk about what he did. I'd say for all of part 1 and the start of shippuden, Sasuke's worst offense is being a bit of a snarky jackass. He wasn't cruel, he had a set of morals that he consistently held himself and others to, and he deeply cared for his friends and allies. His interactions with Itachi were upsetting, Orochimaru manipulating him was tragic, and his struggle to decide between his friends and revenge was interesting. The most morally skewed thing he did was his fight with Naruto, but even that was forgivable. The start of shippuden maintains him being mostly in the clear: he nearly kills team Yamato, he kills Orochimaru, he starts traveling with some morally questionable people(scaring the crap out of some civilians and stealing a sword in the process), and he fights and kills Itachi. Again, he's not exactly a stand up citizen, but he remains just and easily forgivable. The Five Kage Summit arc is where this changes.

After learning the truth about the Uchiha Massacre and Itachi's true role in it from Obito, the Five Kage Summit arc begins with Sasuke joining the Akatsuki(a.k.a technically a mercenary group, but better called a terrorist organization considering their, at this point known, goals). The arc is easily a shift in the story's direction(for better or worse), meaning a shift in the main characters, and easily an arc I'm going to discuss in more depth in the future. Sasuke's character shift is revealed to be downward when he and the rest of team Taka attack and "kill" Killer Bee. I don't care how much you like Sasuke or how much you agree with his anger, you cannot justify him attacking and attempting to murder someone who has done nothing but be a jinchuuriki. Soon after Sasuke's role in the attack is revealed, Karui, Omoi, and Samui leave to Konoha to tell the Hokage about the planned five kage summit and that Kumogakure is taking the responsibility of Sasuke's punishment out of Konoha's hands. This is the arc where Sasuke undeniably becomes a criminal and his crimes have victims. Say what you want about Konoha and complacency and injustice, but let's make some things clear.

Killer Bee had nothing to do with the Uchiha Massacre.

Kumogakure had nothing to do with the injustices Sasuke was fighting against.

The samurai of the Land of Iron had nothing to do with shinobi affairs.

Team Taka didn't deserve to be betrayed for being "too weak."

I didn't make this post to complain about Sasuke or make him out to be a bad character. Actually, I think he's one of the best written within the series and he's among my favorites. Sasuke is a morally complex character, a fantastic foil to Naruto, an impactful warning on what happens when someone is consumed by hatred and abandons their humanity in pursuit of their goals, and the end of his arc was really nice(until Boruto ruined it, but that's another rant for another day). I get so upset about people making Sasuke out to be an innocent or wholly justified character, not only because those same people often take an undeserved moral high ground and talk down to/shame people for having problematic favorites as if Sasuke isn't problematic, but because it doesn't give his character the credit it deserves. Sasuke is such a good character because he and his actions are imperfect. He's good because he is morally complex.

The Naruto series is about a boy who is ostracized by his home and targeted by a terrorist organization for something he has no control over. He responds to his circumstances by building connections, finding peace, and making an attempt to change both himself and the world around him rather than giving into his anger and lashing out. Naruto and many other characters struggle to maintain their humanity in a world that seeks to destroy it. Sasuke's story is not one of a tragic hero burning his perpetrators and the world that allowed them to the ground. His story is about a hurt and manipulated child abandoning more and more of his humanity under the assumption that it'll somehow help him do good in a bad world until he becomes the bad. His story ends with him confronting that humanity and coming to terms with it because there was still someone waiting for him with a hand held out.

#Anti Sasuke fandom #Anti Sasuke Uchiha fandom #I don't want to tag this anti-sasuke so...#Sasuke Uchiha #Naruto #Naruto Shippuden #I don't really care if you love or hate Sasuke #but don't condescend or harass people for having an opinion #Naruto is a shounen action series about hope stop trying to make it into a grimdark #I don't know how cohesive or readable this is since I didn't write it all in one go like my other posts #Rant #Analysis #Character analysis #sort of #kind of #my stooff

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mythvoiced · 2 months

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-. wenzhe-core (pt. 3 the return of the jedi) (main-verse)

panic attacks

if he were an idol/celebrity most (thirst) edits about him would be about his hands

sipping quietly and stressfully on his drink while people talk about things he can't admit to being familiar with because it's Niche Queer Things

he loves cats, it's not mutual

dogs love him, it's not mutual (he likes dogs just fine enough, but... fine enough)

thinks he has a sweet tooth because he's always sucking on a lollipop or candy or chewing on sweet gum or getting popsicles in summers, it's not a sweet-tooth, it's an oral fixation

all his pencils from tween school years were covered in bite-marks as a result

undiagnosed in one way or another, probably adhd

"i don't get people who can just sleep on trains, like, what if you miss your stop" he says but if he's taking a train and it takes more than 20 minutes to get to his destination he will fall asleep

pastel colours terrorist group

childhood friends with latent romantic feelings trope but he got over it relatively quick (he thinks)

as answer to the question what kind of anime he watches: oh, you know, demon slayer, blue lock, stuff like that

the anime he watches: skip & loafer, a sign of affection, the apothecary's diaries

seeing auntie nao in skip & loafer made him really weird for a week straight before he repressed it again

*smacks him violently over the head* this baby can fit so much internalized [insert] in him

once i finish the apothecary's diaries, by the way, i AM making a verse for him in that

"i don't really like children all that much" *a child hands him something to hold onto for them and he's visibly holding back tears*

he's actually REALLY weird about catching feelings i cannot stress this enough

if a girl he's into playfully smacks him around and leans into him he'll go home and scream into his pillow

if a guy he likes ruffles his hair and tells him to take it easy, cheer up, he'll go home and bang his head against the wall

in terms of non-binary people they're usually way out of his league

this IS his canonical hair-length (this guy is starting to piss me off btw the fucking gender envy i swear--)

also that last one was just me wanting to show you his manga fc again ♥

in terms of type of people he likes (both romantic and platonic, actually, they tend to overlap) he likes people who are (subjectively at the very least) mentally and emotionally stronger than him, people who can say no but are still kind

he doesn't have anything against meeker, more submissive personality types but he will usually create a stronger imbalance here where he'll try to be less of a friend and more of a caretaker

watching a historical/period romance: this is?? what is this, wow, i can't even tell what fake past this is supposed to be inspired by because the clothes sure won't tell me, the inaccuracy, the liberties-- wait, what are you doing, no don't turn it off, the second daughter just helped the love interest infiltrate back into the city which means all of qianqian's work to get him out of the city to avoid his death are for nought plus su mu just rejected the first daughter again and she stood up for the first time to chase after him and-

actually while putting this together i realized that childhood friends crush might have been a lot more serious than anticipated

i am casting the other lead as qianru btw because i can use content like this and bc it suits the personality i'm developing for her

also yes i am not kidding it's bad wenzhe might have straight up been in love with qianru we're- RUH ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#;ooc #the guilty;about #so many feelings so many thought rats about this goon #i violently underestimated how BADLY wenzhe is doing UH OH #all of my muses are Not Okay tbh in one way or another #but they kind of... operate on spite or on lying to themselves or #i can't explain it but wenzhe is so so so close to spiralling he's straight up just not having a good time #i wanted a failguy with quirks but i had to go and kill of qianru and oh god oh god #i am curled in in a ball at the center of the room why did i do this to him #i mean I AM NOT TAKING IT BACK but YOU KNOW #;queue

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disco-cola · 7 months

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ok im boutta rant so hard. so honestly the reaction of people (or sometimes lack thereof) to the recent events between palestine and israel is so telling… so many people even in my own surroundings are so ignorant and stupid and one-sided. being in support of a free independent palestine and still acknowledging the ongoing nearly daily mistreatments of Palestinian people by the IDF in the gaza strip west bank etc. even now after those recent horrible attacks on israel (which are not condonable or justifiable ever to me) does not make you a „terror sympathizer“ or even „anti-semitic“ like be so for real. this is exactly what the western media has been trying to make people believe for all those past years and they‘re doing it again now and using it for propaganda- which is why it’s so important to ALSO get updates from Palestinian sources (I use eye.on.palestine and theimeu and byplestia on insta since getting back from the trip and actually learning about the situation in 2020 and they are doing educational work on top of news too but beware it also contains uncensored extremely disturbing footage that a lot of western media just casually completely refuses to report about). It’s this complete disregard and erasure of Palestinian struggles for the past nearly eight decades and history under israeli occupation. The complete justification of the counterattack and pledges of unwavering solidarity in the big western newspapers without telling the whole story NEUTRALLY. Like what I’ve read in newspaper articles in the past days is actually SCARY bc it sounds like absolute brainwashing and is not neutral truthful reporting at all. I will say it as it is I don’t give a flying fuck about any of those violent colonialist settlers losing their lives. I also dont give a shit about any violent hamas member who killed an israeli civilian involved bc they are just as racist and evil. Scum like that needs to be wiped off the earth so that maybe one day this place really can find a solution in peace. And I really do wish that for Palestinian AND Israeli people, for Jewish AND Muslim people. I‘m so sorry for all the innocent lives lost who get caught in the crossfire but you also can’t tell me, and I’ve literally read this today in a big newspaper that I quote „israeli forces will do anything to protect Palestinian civilian lives“ bc it doesn’t line up at all with the footage shared from targeted regions in Gaza and that „Palestinian terrorists will use their children as shields and then cry into cameras and we cannot show sympathy for them“ when all I’ve seen are traumatized mothers or fathers who couldn’t even walk or stand up straight bc they were crying so hard. It’s inhuman to not show empathy like hello? I can’t believe this is actually what they’re printing and people are buying into it bc they think this is the right and political correct thing to do.

Also don’t forget about the fact Israel has one of the top high tech modern military forces in the world. Israel has iron dome and david’s sling (and thank god they do bc it does prevent more senseless deaths) which are highly advanced air defense systems which are said to have a catch rate of 90%. they are not catching and preventing ALL missiles from hitting sadly but A LOT of them. however when israeli military fires missiles on gaza, they KNOW for sure they WILL hit. Even if they apparently give „warnings“ to the population before starting an attack. In Gaza at least 900 civilians have already died in in the last 3 days, reportedly half of whom are women and children. Please think about them too when you mourn the victims, even if their pictures are not shown in the newspapers.

#Roger Waters is also always dubbed anti semitic for speaking out #and I used to blindly believe everything I heard on tv too especially back in 2014 when it also escalated violently #it literally took me winning an educational trip there on a fucking TOMBOLA and seeing stuff first hand to also see the other side #i also Read today shani louk is apparently in critical condition but ALIVE in a Gaza hospital #and I’m so damn glad but if they keep bombing it the way they do she still wont come home #free palestine #palestine

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tb-gerschutz · 7 months

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Chapter Six

Word Count: 2,465

Trigger Warning(s): language, mild spice (I don't have much experience writing s*x scenes, but this chapter comes close to it), name-calling (pet names)

Summary: Rocky and Whiskey get into a heated argument, and they get carried away with forgiving one another...

**********

Whiskey and I eventually got back to the Romanov Facility at around midnight after being at the ball for a couple hours. I regretted being back in a normal reality, but I guess being with Whiskey made it better. His presence soothed me and made me feel safe in this dangerous world, which is the best thing that could happen while on this dangerous mission.

After he helped me out of my ball gown, I changed into more comfortable clothes. In this case, it was denim jeans, a black button-down shirt, and gray slippers. I also put on a black-and-gold Timex watch that I received from my grandfather on my seventeenth birthday. It's a treasure that I had with me for a long time, and I intend on keeping it for the rest of my life.

"So what do you think Balor's gonna do next?" I asked, stepping out of the bathroom and back into the main area of the suite.

"Hard tellin'," he responded as he stared blankly ahead. "He's unpredictable, and he's dangerous. Especially considering that he's the one who orders at least five executions a day. If not, more."

I rested my hand underneath my chin, thinking about any theory as to what Balor could be or would be capable of doing. Whiskey was right. Balor was unpredictable, and it was frightening to think about. The things this devilish, disgraced creature could do was absolutely appalling. If I think that what he does in private is frightening, who knows what could happen if he gets his hands on Whiskey and I.

And if Balor ever puts his hands on Whiskey, he'll regret ever being born.

"So we wait until he pounces again. That's our best move, right?"

Whiskey shrugged and turned on the television. "It's the best thing we can do at this point. If we engage him at the wrong time, then Balor can go runnin', and that means we have to start all over again in catching him."

"And if he runs, then we might not see him ever again," I added.

Whiskey held up his hand, signaling me to quiet down. "Well, it looks like we might get our chance," he said as he turned up the volume on the television.

Then there it was. A frightening news report that I never thought I'd ever see. It was like something out of a nightmare.

Hundreds of people are dead after a violent terrorist attack erupted at a town square in Kurgan, Russia today. Authorities are saying that the Hellhound Corps, led by Balor Devlin, is the guilty party responsible for this heinous crime.

I will never forget those words. Those bone-chilling words. These were words that no one should have to hear. They're the kind of words that should only be used to inflict aggressive heartbreak onto someone deserving of such. And not just the normal, emotional kind of heartbreak, no. I also mean the kind where your heart is physically crushed because of someone stabbing a knife right through it. It pains you, and those words sure as hell pained me even though I wasn't involved.

"Shit," I said in a hushed tone. "That's horrible. You think Balor's trying to send us a message?"

"Oh, he definitely is. I've been doing this a long time and know when a terrorist is sending a rebellion group a message," Whiskey answered.

I then got a crazy idea. A crazy, stupid idea. I should have never said the words that came out of my mouth.

"Then, we should go after him."

"No, sugar. We can't go after him yet," Whiskey disagreed. "We don't know he was actually there at the scene of the attack."

"But he had to be nearby in a hidden place in order to orchestrate this," I said back. "It's nearly impossible to be in a whole 'nother town over and successfully organize this tragedy."

"I know, sugar, but we don't know where he could be now. We don't know his precise location. One wrong arrest of one his men, and he's on the run again. We can't afford to make the mistake of lettin' him run, sugar."

"But if we go after him now, then we can let him know that we ain't gonna handle this shit," I answered back, this time having my voice in a shouting voice.

At this point, Whiskey and I were about two feet away from each other. He was staring at me with hungry yet raging eyes. It was like fire was lit in the back of his eyeballs, and all I could see was anger and hate. Meanwhile, my blood boiled as I continued to stand in front of Whiskey. Neither of us were budging from our spots.

"If we wait for Balor to do something that makes him even more vulnerable, then we might have more of a chance. We don't have to worry about our lives as much, and we might have a good enough chance to catch Balor and not have him run again," Whiskey said in a relatively calm voice.

"But if we don't ride his ass now, then a lot more people could die!"

"It's a huge risk, sugar, and I'm not going to live with the guilt of your death. Just like I did with my high school sweetheart!" Whiskey shouted.

"You're telling me this? I've had to live with the guilt of my twin brother's death for a little over a year now. At this point, Whiskey, I'd much rather die a heroic death and avenge my brother's death than to wait around here and do nothing!"

"So you're sayin' you're willin' to drop everything we've sacrificed and die?" Whiskey asked, still keeping his voice in a shouting tone.

"If it comes down to it, then yeah."

That's when Whiskey erupted. His face was now a very clear beet red, and he was the angriest I've ever seen him. Even our time back in the snowy Ural Mountains wasn't as rage-fueled as this.

"There is no way in hell that I'm not lettin' you die, sugar! Uh-uh. No way. That would be stupid of you to go out there and get yourself killed."

"Oh, so now, you're calling me stupid for wanting to stop innocent people from dying at a fast rate," I shouted.

"That's not what I'm sayin'."

"Well, it sure sounds like it! It's sounding like you're holding me back. It's like you're stopping me from protecting you and the rest of the world," I started, still shouting. "It's like you never loved me. You're holding me back and not letting me save the world. It's like you're losing feelings for me."

My life flashed before my eyes as Whiskey sprang into action, getting deep into my personal bubble. He used his hand and grasped it onto my throat tightly, but it wasn't tight enough to choke the life out of me. My stomach dropped almost instantly when Whiskey did this.

Was he going to choke me to death?

Was he going to kill me just for disagreeing with him?

Our faces were centimeters away from one another. So much so that I could once again feel his hot, fuming breath beating down on the front of my face. As he and I locked eyes, I could see directly into his soul. It was fuming, angry...and I could tell he was contemplating his actions. He was regretting them, but on the outside, he was infuriated with me. Deep down, I was scared to death because Whiskey had never done this before. It's like he internally flipped a switch and turned into an angry individual. On the outside, however, I kept a strong, angry facade while using my eyes to showcase my feelings of burning desire and aggravation.

"Don't say that," he angrily started, still keeping a firm grasp on my throat. "You know that I love ya more than anything. So don't use that spewin' mouth of yours to say something like that when you know it isn't true."

I kept my infuriated eyes glued to Whiskey's. "Why not? It's one of our God given rights to have free speech. And I intend on using that whenever I damn well please."

"Not when that free speech threatens the ones you love," Whiskey added.

"But it sure looks like you're threatening me right now," I remarked, "and don't you say you aren't. I know you too damn well, Whiskey, and you're someone I love that seems to be threatening me using physical force. Well, guess what? It ain't gonna work because I already know your true intentions. You're not gonna follow through with it, and that makes me not afraid of you right now. In fact, it turns me on. It makes me want you even more. So this choking thing you're doing...yeah. It ain't workin' out the way you want it to."

He relinquished his grasp on my throat, and I was left breathing for air. I know Whiskey didn't intend on hurting me, but in that moment when he first lunged at me, it sure felt like it. He gave me a crooked smirk, glancing down at my lips briefly. He was thinking about kissing me again, but he never acted on this impulsive thought.

Deep down inside me, I wish he did.

Out of the blue, Whiskey's earpiece started to let out a ringing tone. It was almost like a telephone was ringing. His attention, in that moment, had immediately shifted from me to this apparent call.

"Sorry, sugar. Gotta take this," he said, walking out of the room and taking the call from Ginger Ale.

I was left stunned. Not just because of Whiskey's abrupt phone call, but also by what just went down. I must have severe mood swings or something of that nature because I switched into a depressive state.

After I sat at the foot of the bed, I broke down in tears. This was the biggest fight Whiskey and I had yet, with the encounter in the Ural Mountains coming nowhere near close. This case, however, was different. Whiskey turned to physicality as a threat, and it scared me. Did he really intend on killing me and covering his tracks? Deep down, I hoped he didn't. I love him too goddamn much. I can't let him go now. I just can't.

I buried my tear-soaked face in my hands, letting out loud and ugly sobs at this point. What if this fight—this fight we just had—would cause our relationship to end? What if this was the final straw? Just then, Whiskey entered back into the room and saw a disheveled me, sobbing uncontrollably at the foot of the bed. He was shocked at what he was seeing. He didn't think that I had the capability to cry, despite seeing me cry before. Almost immediately, however, that internal switch of his flipped, and his down-to-earth, concerned side was showing.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's goin' on, sugar? Why are you cryin'?" he asked, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close to him.

I sniffled and tried to say what I had to say in just one breath. I didn't want to stutter or have any interruptions in this serious comment I was about to roll out.

"This is it, ain't it? Our relationship?"

"What the hell are you talkin' 'bout?" Whiskey asked.

"That fight we just had. That had to have ended this relationship we had," I said, still crying, but it was in a considerably less hysterical way.

Whiskey then got the face of realization and quickly switched back to his concerned side. "Sugar, no. It didn't. It definitely didn't."

He inhaled and started again. "People fight all the time. It's in their nature to. It's in our nature, even. Just because they have a verbal tussle doesn't mean their relationship is done. Not all fights are like that. People are gonna have disagreements. People aren't gonna see eye-to-eye all the time...It's just how we're made. Just because we fought like that, sugar, doesn't mean we're gonna end this relationship we had. It just means that we deeply care about one another to vent out our frustrations and disagreements with one another."

He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away all the tears that soaked my face. "I love ya, sugar. And I sure ain't gonna ditch this loving relationship we have just because of one fight. I love ya too goddamn much to do that."

I slightly smiled, letting him know that I appreciated what he did. He ran his hand along my jawline, allowing me to once again feel the coarse nature of his hand. Once he reached the bottom of my chin, he stopped, keeping his index finger underneath it. He used the finger to raise my chin up, guiding me to his eyes. His eyes were concerned, but they were underlined with power. He was demanding me to keep this gaze. This hungry gaze.

Then, he leaned in close to kiss me gently. A lot gentler than the previous kiss before while we were in the Ural Mountains. Is this how I was going to end the night? With a gentle, soothing make-up kiss with Whiskey?

Nope! Hell no!

Like a roller coaster, things between me and Whiskey escalated rather quickly. Before I knew it, I was doing everything I could to rip off my shirt as quickly as possible, all while Whiskey and I locked lips harder than ever.

That's right. Things were getting steamier than ever.

I knew where this was headed, and I was okay with it. I was thrown aggressively—but carefully—onto the bed, and there I saw Whiskey, standing over me in a much more demanding light than ever. He was serious, demanding...I guess he wanted me that much too.

"Now, I'm ready to make you scream my name so loud, those people in the states will be able to hear us. You think you can do that for me?"

"Of course," I said, trembling slightly.

Now that he was hovering over top of me, he forcefully pinned my wrists down to the bed. I didn't know that he was capable of such strength like this. I couldn't even move my wrists because of this strong force bearing down on them.

It should be noted that the rest of this night was a blur for me, mainly because it made me inconsolable—out of intimacy, of course—so after that moment, I can barely remember this night without getting hornier than ever.

And as my breath quickened and my heart beat louder than ever, there was one phrase that made me bite the inside of my cheek so hard that it nearly bled.

"Good girl."

#agent whiskey #creative writing #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #fanfiction

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batsandbugs · 4 years

Text

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 1 - Meet the Players

Marinette originally came to the IKEA an hour outside of Gotham to buy twinkle lights for her new living room. She eventually extended her trip into obtaining new dishes since all she had right now was empty takeout containers she kept rewashing. She would have been very content getting what she needed and being on her way, (no, she wasn't lonely Plagg, she had two dozen mini-gods to keep her company, shut up) but halfway between the bedding and lights sections, Marinette’s life changed forever.

For the better, if she was being honest.

She never would have realized it if she hadn’t ducked into a showroom to test out a couch. She settled against the fluffy folds, knowing it would be destroyed within minutes if she ever brought it home when she noticed him. A boy, no man, about her age, hiding behind a desk looking for all the world as if he were plotting world domination or someone’s demise.

They looked at each other in shock for a moment.

“Are… are you ok-”

“Shhh!” his green eyes narrowed, and boy, Marinette had been on the receiving end of death glares before, but this one had to take the cake.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “Do you see a group of dark-haired obnoxious idiots out there?” he asked.

The request was an odd one, but Marinette rose from the couch and glanced around outside of the showroom. She didn’t see anyone fitting his description. She shook her head.

He smirked. “My idiot older brothers dragged me along for a “family bonding experience”." He made the little quotation marks, and Marinette never thought anyone could look cool doing that, but somehow this person nailed it. "Tt. I’ve successfully avoided them for an hour. Didn’t know when the coast would be clear though.” He rose gracefully from the ground, looking all the more like a prince, rather than a crazy person hiding from his family.

It was absurd.

Marinette found herself instantly amused.

“I have friends exactly like that, I totally get it,” she said, thinking how Adrian would be beside himself when she told him the story later. The pang of loneliness that had been present since she’d left her friends in Paris, for college in America re-emerged. She shook her head of the maudlin thoughts.

The Kwamis would have had a field day with this idea too, thankfully she had left them in her severely under-furnished apartment for the day in order to avoid the squabbling that came with only taking a few of them out of the house.

Marinette looked back out at the hallway again, wondering if the man's brothers would soon appear, finding herself invested in what would happen. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, Drake has the keys, and those idiots will be at their shenanigans till the store closes, so…” he shrugged.

“Are they like… furnishing a whole house?” Marinette didn’t know how you could spend an entire day here. Sure, it was big, but…

“No. We’re engaged in a no holds barred game of hide-and-seek.” Marinette’s mouth dropped open. “If one of them catches me I become the seeker.”

“Why?”

He smirked, “Because I’ve held out the longest.”

"No, I mean, why are you playing hide-and-seek?" It seemed an odd choice for a bunch of adults. Well, Marinette and her friends would do it. But they also willing became superheroes at the age of fourteen so their judgment was already in question.

He shrugged. "My oldest brother thought it would be fun, and our father is... out of town at the moment," he said with a bit of hesitation.

“So, you’re just going to hide in this showroom till the store closes?”

A devious smile spread across the man’s handsome features. “No. I intend to troll them. If Grayson wants my participation, I'm going to make him regret it.”

It was at that moment she crossed the point of no return, not that Marinette knew it yet.

Throwing away any idea of finishing her shopping today she returned his smirk. “Any chance I could join you in your crusade?”

The guy looked her over suspiciously. “Why should I allow a stranger to join me and potentially ruin my chances at victory?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, your brothers know you well?” He nodded. “Then they likely know what you’ll do to avoid and troll them. You need a fresh perspective. Plus, I can operate out in the open, I’m not officially a part of the game.”

“Hmm...” his face was impassive; Marinette couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “You make some good points, but I’m not fully convinced.”

Marinette huffed, “I also grew up in Paris without being akumatized.”

He looked at her oddly. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Paris had a terrorist for five years that turned people into monsterized versions of themselves if they felt negative feelings. They were called Akuamas. Everyone in my class had it happen to them at least once. More for some particularly loose cannons.”

The guy looked bewildered. “Why didn’t anyone hear about this?”

Marinette shrugged, trying to play off her knowledge as what a normal civilian would know. “Combination of corrupt politicians, social media blackouts, and magic. People died during these attacks, but everything was put to rights at the end of every fight due to the superheroes powers.”

His mouth dropped, but he recovered quickly looking contemplative. “I want to know more about this at a later time, but if what you say is true you can control yourself better than the average peon. But my brothers and I are a combination of street orphans, circus brats, gymnastics freaks, and geniuses - are you sure you can keep up?”

Marinette nearly laughed at his description but managed to keep a straight face. “Positive.”

“Alright, I'll do whatever it takes to win.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Damian.”

She took it, feeling a slight shock as her fingers touched his. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you, Damian.”

“You won’t be saying that soon enough,” he said with a slight smirk. He looked over her shoulder. “Shit.” He dove beneath the desk he’d been hiding behind earlier. “Tall guy with the white streak in his hair.” Marinette turned to look. “Don’t make it too obvious,” he hissed.

Marinette grabbed her phone and leaned against the desk. With small side glances, she saw a man probably mid to late twenties with two-toned hair. He wore a leather jacket and seemed to be searching for something, or someone.

“Who’s that?” she asked quietly.

“Second oldest brother, Jason Todd - arguably the most and least dangerous.”

“Why both?”

“He did not want to participate initially, so he’s reluctant, but at the same time, he hates losing. He’ll hang on to the bitter end. More resourceful than the other two, and more violent, although less sophisticated.”

Jason moved closer to their showroom.

“Hush, he’s headed this way,” she whispered. Damian remained quiet and Marinette tried to make herself look busy.

“Quick question miss?” Marinette glanced up from her phone. Jason stood at the entrance to the showroom.

“Oh, uh, oui? Non, non, I mean yes?” Marinette said in an exaggerated accent, playing into the oblivious tourist stereotype always came in handy.

“Oh French, shit, haven’t spoken that in a while,” he muttered. “Um...”

“Non, it iz okay, I speak English well. Can I help you?” She batted her eyes just a bit. Marinette had long since grown from the days of not using all her advantages - courtesy of forced confidence from Chole. A friendship no one had seen coming but had grown quick and strong once they reached an understanding.

“Oh, I’m looking for my little brother, about yay high, black hair, green eyes, permanent scowl. Have you seen him?”

Marinette pretended to think for a second. “Non... I do not theenk so, perhaps help desk at zee front?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jason said, Marinette could see he had already written her off as useless. “Thanks, anyway.” He walked away quickly.

There was a minute of silence. “Coast is clear,” said Marinette once Jason was out of sight.

Damian popped up, a gleam in his eyes. “Your lying skills are adequate; we may just win this yet.”

“I’m glad to meet such high approval, monsieur. Let’s get going.”

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

#damian x marinette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #mlb crossover #damimari #damianette #marinnette dupain cheng x damian wayne

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shyestofhearts · 3 years

Note

🧵🪡Anon here!

So, I have an alternative ending to how Damian reacts to people being racist and bigoted towards him at the galas. My friend said that the end sounded kinda white savior-like, and asked that I submit an alternative ending? Idk, but here it goes!

After Dick alerts the family about what’s been going on, they question him on why he never said anything.

“I am trying to better, and not do anything that’ll make believe those stereotypes.” Damian shrugs, not looking at anyone. “Plus, I did not want to hurt Father’s business,”

“Brat,” Tim says softly, his tone conveying hurt and shame. Damian turns away, not wanting to show his vulnerability.

“No one ever noticed anyway” he shrugs. Bruce walks over to Damian,

“I don’t need their money Damian. I don’t need their presence p. I need you and your siblings to feel safe and comfortable in your home,” He tells Damian, “So I’m going to tell you what I told Dick, Jason, and most recently Duke,” Duke clears his throat, as everyone looks at him. He waves his hand awkwardly. All of his siblings can’t help but grin at him. “If someone, especially when in public, is treating you wrong because of something out of your control, I give you permission to act accordingly.” Damian’s eyes widen at hat. “Just don’t get carried away.”

“What does that even mean?” Damian asks bewildered.

“Well,” Dick bounces on over, “Once a Mr. Johnson tried made innuendos towards me when I was young, perhaps fourteen, talking about how he’d love to see just how flexible this *enter g derogatory term* boy really is,” Damian’s face turned to one of race. “I showed him by “accidentally” breaking him nose while doing a backflip.”

“Susan Turner said that Bruce probably saw me working as a rent boy and adopted me so because it was financially easier than continuously going to my corner” shouts of anger come from multiple sides of the room as Jason shrugs. Then he smiles viciously. “I explained to her that I was never a prostitute and that she was disgusting for even thinking Bruce would do that. I than, very loudly, told her I didn’t know she was familiar with purchasing rent boys, and if she thought is was okay for parents to do that to their children she needed to be arrested and have her children removed from her custody.”

“At the last gala some stuffy lady and her husband were drinking their champagne, complaining that Bruce was taking in more and more filth. Said, ‘Look at the latest one, actually looks like a criminal this time,’ and implied something about me possibly learning the ropes and being ‘the help’. I told them, the only filth around here was them, especially as the husband had groped a server a few minutes earlier and the woman just berated the server instead of her husband. Then I called security, who alerted the cops, and had the couple removed.” Duke taps his temple, indicating his eyes, smiling.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” Bruce says sincerely. “I just thought that if anyone was giving you trouble, you would already handle it on your own. I honestly expected physical fights from you, and when their was none I figured the guests had understood from previous experiences.” Damian nods, eyes glassy. “I’m in your corner Damian,”

“I can promise to do my best to sue the next newspaper or journalist who write racist bigoted statements about you,” Tim joins in. Damian laughs a bit at that.

“You do what you need to in order to defend yourself against those type of people,” Bruce squeezes Damian’s shoulder.

The next time someone makes a terrorist comment at Damian in a gala, his entire family is on alert and about to jump in to defend him. An older man is going on about how the country is letting terrorists in so they can steal American jobs, and they are sending them younger and younger. Damian just looks at the ugly red faced man, at his drunken uninterested apathetic wife and laughs. It’s not a nice laugh, but a cruel one.

“The only theft I see comes from you and your…wife. You both are wearing, though it is pretty passable, fake brand clothing and jewelry. You think I would not notice? I am a designer! It’s not that hard to spot. What, you couldn’t afford the real thing? That’s surprising, I would think you should be able to with how much you save from not paying your employees fair wages.” Damian scoffs, “You scream about stealing American jobs, but won’t even both to pay your employees enough to have the American dream. If you aren’t using that money on your employees what are you using it on? Perhaps more lines for your wife?” Damian asks, before turning to the woman. “You got a little bit of white powder on the top of your nose there,” He says in a loud stage whisper, and others are turning to talk about the spectacle. Damian catches Duke’s eye, and he smiles. “Eat the Rick” Duke mouths, laughing a bit. “Now,” Damian turns back to the now tomato-faced man, and cursing Damian profusely, talking suing Damian for slander and libel as his wife turns to wipe her nose. The sound of cameras almost cover the sound of the ranting tomato man, “Yeah, we’re down here.” Damian says, trying to not to be violent as the cameras are still flashing. But the man grabs Damian as he turns to walk away. Damian twists the man’s arm, kicks his legs out from under him, maneuvers him onto his stomach, with his hand behind his back. The wife is finally making sound, though it is a screeching noise. Dick comes to help Damian, followed by Bruce and Jason. “I got this, just make sure the security is here” Damian says. Security removes the couple, but the wife begins throwing her own fit, which is when the security suspect she is under the influence. They call the cops, and they handle to couple.

A week later, plastered across the newspaper is the couple. The wife has been arrested for illegal use of drugs while the husband was arrested for money laundering, embezzling, etc.

No one mentions it to Damian, but everyone at the table can’t stop smiling

Oo thank you for the alternate ending, Sew!

I love this au you've made with my entire soul and I need you to know that

#shy's asks #sewing anon #damian wayne #dc comics #long post #sorry it took me a bit to post #had an exam today and projects earlier in the week

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pipipinyyy · 3 years

Text

Explaining why I have added every song in my entire and very long Niragi playlist because I can and because over analyzing him is my passion (I usually update it from time to time but I'll do it with the current songs)

Completely self indulgent post, but I decided to share to feed my fellow Niragi stans (*˙︶˙*)☆*°

This is entirely based on my view of the songs and how I interpret them while thinking about Niragi. I'm aware that most of them have entirely different meanings, this is just for fun :) (Also sorry if my explanations don't make much sense, English is not my first language and I might make mistakes when trying to put my feelings and thoughts into words)

This may contain manga/s2 spoilers

Hayloft-Mother Mother: Vibes

Criminal-Britney Spears: The whole song describes him ("he is a sucker with a gun") and the fandom's obsession ("mama I'm in love with a criminal")

Daddy Issues-The Neighborhood: I feel like he would act like this, using the most vulnerable spots to pick on someone ("cry little girl, nobody does it like you do")

Psycho-Jin Dogg, OVER KILL: Vibes

Riot-Hollywood Undead: He'd definitely start a riot like he did in the 10 of hearts, burning and destroying anything that crosses his path

Bitches-Mindless Self Indulgence: He most likely thinks he's a total fuckboy and popular with girls since he can get almost anything he wants out of scarying people

Baby's on Fire-Die Antwoord: Vibes

Insane in the Brain-Cypress Hill: This man is being consumed by his own way of protecting himself

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing-Set It Off: Based on how he feels towards the people who hurt him in the past ("Listen, mark my words, one day, you will pay" "You've always been a huge piece of shit, if I could kill you, I would" "Karma is gonna come collect your debt")

Death no more-IC3PEAK: Vibes

Gasoline-I Prevail: Sort of similar to Riot, ("So burn it all down, burn it all down, I don't give a fuck")

Toxic-Britney Spears: The whole fandom knows how much of a piece of shit this dude can be, but we still find ourselves liking/enjoying his character (to an extent), a toxic addiction

Nice Guy-GRLwood: As much as I love this man, he'd use the "I'm a nice guy c'mon" card just to fuck. If he wants to, he'll get it, if he doesn't, he'll most likely get mad

Dernière danse-Indila: Vibes

TRRST-IC3PEAK: Mostly vibes, I kinda see this song as how he felt the first time he killed someone on purpose inside the borderlands ("mama they say I'm a terrorist, I did nothing wrong but I got on the blacklist")

Saint Bernard-Lincoln: Vibes

Nowhere To Run-Stegosaurus Rex: Being with him at the Beach would either be ignoring each other completely or a game of tag, no inbetween. If this man wants to kill you, he'll get his fun time out of it as well ("You're gonna die, I'm gonna kill you")

The House of Wolves-Bring Me The Horizon: Based on how he sees life after being consumed by his current mental state ("Show me a sign, show me a reason to give a solitary fuck about your god damn beliefs" "What you call faith, I call a sorry excuse")

Smells Blood-Kensuke Ushio: Vibes

SIU-Maretu: Similar to Daddy Issues, don't expect this man to be a therapist. If he sees anyone crying or panicking in or outside a game, he'd most likely tell them to suck it up, just like this song.

Judgement-Kensuke Ushio: Vibes

MONSTER ENERGY GUN!-KevinKempt: Vibes + He for sure has an energy drink addiction, specially pre-borderlands

HURT-1 800 PAIN: Vibes

Fear Is The Mind Killer-Zheani: Vibes

I Bet on Losing Dogs: Based on how I know Niragi is toxic, and most likely unsaveable of his deteriorating mental state, but I still have him as my biggest comfort character ("I bet on losing dogs, I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place")

Emo Boy-Ayesha Erotica: He's been in an emo phase (and maybe still is), the lyrics are pretty self explanatory, they describe us Niragi simps perfecrly ("come on fuck me emo boy")

Crybaby-Destroy Boys: Vibes

The Fox's Wedding-MASA Works DESIGEN: Vibes

You're a useless child-Kikuo: We don't know much about his past, but judging by the unstoppable bullying he's suffered, his parents didn't care about him, or were straight up absent. He's been insulted by pretty much everyone in his past to the point of believing it and telling those things to himself ("You're a useless child, the most useless child in this world" "Drool in snot, dandruff, shit and piss" "I'm a useless child" "Nobody will save me" "I'm a lonely kid")

Take A Slice-Glass Animals: Vibes

Fighting With The Melody-Jimmy Urine: Vibes

Comics-Caravan Palace: Vibes

Rhinestone Eyes-Gorillaz: Vibes

Butch 4 Butch-Rio Romero: Mostly vibes, sort of how I think the most "peacefull" moments in a relationship with him would feel like, kind of bittersweet feeling

Suki Suki Daisuki-Jun Togawa: Yandere Niragi. If he's interested in someone, he'd go through an obsessive phase, most likely forcing the other person to "love" him. This man is so confused about the feeling of love that he's unable to tell when he loves someone or when he's obsessed with them due to his lack of attention ("Like you, like you, I love you. Say you love me or I'll kill you")

:(-The Garden: Vibes

Kitty City-Cyriak Harris: Vibes

Blood-My Chemical Romance: If Niragi went to a therapist, he'd act like this song, with his signature cocky and sarcastic personality (at least before he gets better) ("I can't control myself because I don't know how" "They can fix me proper with a bit of luck" "I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love")

A Mask of My Own Face-Lemon Demon: He feels like he needs to protect himself or else he will get hurt inside the borderlands by others again. He uses another personality, a completely ruthless one, even if he doesn't like it and hates himself for it, he doesn't see another way to deal with his fear, allowing his "new self" to consume himself. ("I'd wear that mask of my own face" "I look into my eyeholes and what do I see? A handsome motherfucker motherfucking looking back at me")

I'm a Murderer-Freddie Dredd: Mostly vibes ("I'm a motherfucking murderer")

'Cause I'm a Liar-Mcki Robyns-P: He would lie just for fun even in serious situations. If he needs to manipulate someone to survive, he'll do it his way, after all, he doesn't care anymore, he just seeks for excitement. ("Without emotion, without devotion. It's much easier to fake something happy")

I Disagree-Poppy: I don't know exactly how to describe it, but I feel like this is how he sees and feels the world and those around him, feeling misunderstood and going his own way ("If only all of you could see the world I see, then maybe everyone could live in harmony")

Personal Jesus-Mindless Self Indulgence: He has a superiority complex, that's for sure. I don't think he sees himself as a god, but I see him joking about it

Rainbow Factory-GLAZE, WoodenToaster: Vibes

Frontier Psychiatrist-The Avalanches: I kinda see this as Aguni taking the role of Niragi's "father figure" inside the borderlands, realizing he's turning insane and is unable to control him ("That boy needs therapy")

Hate it. Hate it. "JIGAHIDAI!"-WADATAKEAKI Kurage P: Jealousy. I can see it either in a pre-borderland situation where he hates the popular students in school, or inside the borderlands hating both Chishiya and Arisu. Jealousy takes over him constructing a big ego, causing himself to develop his superiority complex ("You see, I hate that popular girl!" "Does she think I don't notice? How she looks at me as if I'm trash" "I want to be praised" "I'm different from you all, I have my own ego! I'm not a side character" "I have zero common sense. I'm special")

Villain-Stella Jang: He knows damn well he's a villain, that's his goal after all, but what if someone took his point of view? wouldn't the villains be all of those who hurted him in the first place? ("We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side, but what if we are the villains on the other")

Violent-carolesdaughter: This is how I view an argument inside a relationship with Niragi. He's used to violence, to cause fear, and getting what he wants, so being in a healthy relationship would require a lot of patience and strenght. While he's getting better and suppressing those violent actions, there will be times where he accidentally uses violence or threatens the other person unintentionally, mostly hurting himself and his partner psychologically. The lyrics change between both points of view ("Don't make me get violent, I want my ring back baby that's a diamond" "She knows I'm a wreck" "I gave you all my trust and I told you just don't break it")

Hey Bunny-Baby Bugs: Based on how I think it would feel to partner up with him inside the borderlands and catching feelings for him while knowing the huge mess he is ("Hey bunny, what's with those evil eyes?" "Hey bunny, what the hell is wrong with us?" "Hey bunny, what if I loose you too? If I become the monster, together we can always be blue")

Kokoronashi-majiko: I'm pretty sure Niragi isn't able to see himself as someone able to love, even if he doesn't want to be alone (just like when he confesses this feeling while fighting with Chishiya and Arisu). If someone truly loved him and was willing to not letting him go, it would hurt. He can't see himself as someone who can love or be loved, so he can't accept the love he's seeking for in case that turns him "weaker" making his true self confront with the protective mean personality he's created. He could learn how to accept it, so he might want the other person to stay in the end, but it wouldn't be easy for him to accept it ("It's awful, I'd rather you destroy my body, tear it to sheds, do as you please" "No matter how much I'm loved by you, my heart is just one" "I don't know this, don't leave me alone")

Nightmare Parade-FAKE TYPE.: Vibes

Slipping Through My Fingers-Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried: Niragi seeing himself loosing his young, gentle and caring personality due to his fear, being unable to control what's happening inside, nostalgia and sadness kicking in ("The feeling that I'm loosing her forever" "That funny little girl" "Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time")

Kuroneko No Tango-Pink Martini, The Von Trapps: Vibes

YKWIM?-Yot Club: Him confroting his feelings of loneliness when he's left alone with his thoughts ("It feels like I care too much when I'm alone, oh no")

Romantic Lover-Eyedress: Just appreciating his physical appearance ("She's a killer, I love her features")

Wrecking Ball-Mother Mother: Based on how he sees himself as someone who needs to destroy everything in a way or another in order to be powerful + the fun he has with it ("Call me a reckless wrecking ball" "Let's break it just because we can")

Edge-Rezz: Vibes

Freaks-Surf Curse: Again, confronting feelings when loving someone, but not in such a painful as Kokoronashi ("I need a place to stay where I can cover up my face" "Don't cry, I'm just a freak")

Little Bit-Lykke Li: Vibes

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con)-Will Wood and the Tapeworms: Vibes

PHONKY TOWN-PlayaPhonk: Vibes

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE-Måneskin: Freaky time. He would absolutely love this song, definitely his type of thing ("You could be the beauty and I could be the monster" "I wanna touch your body so fucking electric" "I wanna make you hungry, then I wanna feed you")

#BrooklynBloodPop!-SyKo: Vibes

A Cold Freezin' Night-The Books: Vibes

A Pearl-Mitski: My most favorite song to associate with Niragi. Represents his evolution as a character. Creating an scenario where he is loved by someone,he rejects it at first, acting tough ("I don't want your touch") and then proceeds to explain why ("It's just that I fell in love with a war, nobody told me it ended" "it left a pearl in my hand and I roll it around every night just to watch it glow") the war being the borderlands and his new personality, he loved it, but nobody drew a line and it's getting out of hand. The pearl is the feeling of power, the one he has to remember when feeling weak just to feel something. At the end of the song it changes to ("Sorry I can't take your touch"), realizing that he wants love, but he's not able to take it or else he'll become the Niragi from the past

Problematic-Bo Burnham: Him acknowledging his problematic actions but not wanting to apologize because he doesn't feel the need to. He knows he's done bad things but he is going to laugh at it and be a sarcastic mf about it

First Love/Late Spring-Mitski: Similar to Kokoronashi, he wouldn't be able to accept love and how it makes him feel. He would think that he prefers for everyone to hate him and be lonely instead of sacrificing his tougher side. Also talks about how he's grown way too quickly for him to understand feelings properly ("So please hurry leave me, I can't breathe, please don't say you love me" "One word from you and I would jump out of this ledge I'm on baby" "I was so young when I behaved 25, yet now I find I've grown into a tough child"

The Other Side Of Paradise-Glass Animals: Vibes

Bodybag-Chloe Moriondo: How I feel about liking his character, confronting feelings basically ("Don't know if I hate you or if I wanna date you" "I don't wanna like you, I just wanna tie you up, then keep you in a cage and watch you sleep for ages"

Get Into It (Yuh)-Doja Cat: Vibes

Psycho Killer-2005 Remaster- Talking Heads: Vibes

HOT DEMON B!TCHES NEAR U!!!-CORPSE, Night Lovell: Vibes

INFERNO-Sub Urban, Bella Poarch: Again, another song that describes him pretty well ("Baby I'm the reason why hell's so hot" "Terribly like terrible, she's a villain" "Think I'm getting butterflies but it's really something telling me to run away")

Bad Morning-Omori: Vibes

Trouble Brewing: Vibes

Dueles Tan Bien-Bruses: Another song about my confronting feelings with this man ("You know what? You taste better than alcohol to me. You know that and you've got control" "Because you hurt, and you hurt so good that I don't know what to do")

And that's it!! This took me the whole day to write but it makes me very happy to be able to share it :)

I've you've read the entire thing, hope you enjoyed the character analysis! ლ(◞‿◟ლ)

#Spotify #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland #alice in borderland netflix #niragi #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #character playlist #aib niragi #aib #overanalyzing niragi is my favorite hobby

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

Text

Normality is Death

Chapter Thirteen ~ Philippians 1:29

masterlist

"C'mon baby lets go back to our room," Lori said to Jacey, Carl already holding her hand. Jacey nodded following a part of her family down the halls.

"What's happening, mom?" Carl asked as he watched Lori go to the air vent feeling no air come out, "Mom? Something wrong?"

Jacey watched her apprehensive mother, "Uh, nothing. It's just... just the air conditioning stopped."

Lights went out soon after that too which agitated Lori more as did the disappearance of her husband. Sitting at the foot of her parents' bed, she watched as she left the room to talk to Doctor Jenner as he passed quickly. "What's wrong, Jacey?" She heard Addie call to her.

"Please leave me alone," her hands found their ways to her ears once again seeking to block out any noise.

"Jacey? You're scaring me... what's wrong?" Addie called to her again, causing her to look up only to see her younger brother worried, "What's wrong, Jacey?"

"Uh... nothing, squirt. I'm fine," She stuttered, paralyzed by her shock, "Where's mom?"

"Went after that Doctor. Sent me back to get you," Carl smiled, still perturbed, "You coming?"

"Yep, Let's go, squirt."

The two younger Grimes' entered the hysterical room, passing their frightful mother on the way out, "Mom what's happening?" Lori didn't respond though, as she continued to run down the corridor and back to the room. Jacey caught wind of Jenner's words about how the French were the last ones to hold out. Well, that was until the fuel ran out. It sunk in deep with the child, there was no cure and there never will be - everything is gone.

Jacey, grabbing the hand of her brother, ran into the room eyeing the now sealed doors. "No. Did you just lock us in?" Glenn panicked, "He just locked us in!" Carl held her hand tighter, the loud noises and consternation becoming at once too much for him. Jacey saw Edwin take a seat at his desk and begin to talk to a camera.

Bold lettering violated her eyes as the screen switched to black with the red-lettered words of '30 minutes to decontamination'. "Carl! Jacey!" she heard her mom bellow, quickly finding them. Dropping her bags, she wrapped her arms around the two children, kissing both of their heads.

Daryl endeavoured over to the man in a fit of rage, yelling at him something Jacey couldn't quite catch but was quickly stopped by Shane. She watched as her father pleaded with the stubborn man to open the door, to which he refused. "What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick yelled to the man after he had ignored him the first time.

"Come on!" Daryl encouraged threatening him with a glass bottle.

"You know what this place is?!" He snapped, "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!" Jenner stops to breathe slowly, "In the event of a catastrophic power failure - in a terrorist attack, for example - H.I.T are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T's?" Rick asked.

"VI, define," he ordered.

"H.I.T's - high impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist," VI continued but Jacey just blocked it out. They were going to die. They were all going to die. Rick walks over to his family joining in on their hug, mortified by the news. Jacey, however, felt okay, fine really. It didn't bother her that she was about to die - her death never seemed to scare her. What did bother her though was that her family would die too. Carl was too young to die she thought to herself.

"It sets the air on fire. No pain," Jenner told them after VI had finished, "an end to sorrow, grief... regret. Everything." Jacey smiled through her tears, she was almost looking forward to it as dark as that sounded but she just wanted some peace, a rest. She watched as many grew angry - and in Daryl's case - violent with the doctor.

Shane and T-dog stayed by the door throwing any and everything they had at it, but none of it making a dent. "You should've left well enough alone... it would have been so much easier," Jenner lent back in his chair, unbothered by the chaos he had created.

"Easier for who?" Lori spat, clearly angry with the man's decision yet still a great amount of sadness in her words, knowing her children were about to die when they're lives really had just begun.

"All of you. You know what's out there. A short brutal life and agonizing death," Jacey understood this and observed as he looked to her, "The people you lost, what was their names?"

"Mitch and Addie," she replied not entirely sure on how he knew, while Rick looked to the man threateningly not wanting her daughter to have any part in his manipulation.

"And you? Your sister?" he asked now to Andrea, the following was a quiet 'Amy'. "Addie, Mitch and Amy," He looked between Andrea and the girl, "You know what this does. You've seen it. Is that what you really want for your wife, daughter and son?"

Now looking at Rick. "I don't want this," He almost cried emphatically.

"Can't make a dent," Shane shouted to Rick, alarmed.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner said almost comedically.

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl screamed, making his way over to the doctor, axe ready. Dale, Rick and Shane come together once more to hold Daryl and his clear anger issues back, "Daryl! Daryl!"

T-dog soon wrestled the weapon off of him as Jenner continued to Rick, "You do want this. Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead." Lori's face drops at his words, while Jacey detaches herself from her mother and brother, planting herself on one of the many identical tables.

"What? You really said that? After all your big talk?" Shane expectorated, almost betrayed at the doctor's words.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" He justified to Lori.

"There is no hope. There never was."

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here but somebody somewhere-"

"What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" the younger girl interrupted her father, earning an approving nod from Andrea but a pained look from her family.

"Listen to your daughter," Jenner advised, "She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event."

"This isn't right. You can't keep us here," Carol cried, "my daughter doesn't deserve to die like this."

"Wouldnt it be kinder, more compassionate just to hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run out?" Carol still cries as she holds her daughter, but Jacqui nods her head slightly.

Much like what happened with Daryl, Shane came to the doctor pointing a shotgun right at his face, but this time Rick intervened, "Out of the way, Rick! Stay out of my way! Open that door, or I'm going to blow your head off. Do you hear me?" Jenner remained emotionless as the officer continued to aim for his head.

"Brother, brother, this is not the way you do this. We will never get out of here, " Rick reminded him. Instead, in a fit of anger, Shane begins to shoot at the computer screens randomly, everyone cowering away from the shots. "We all die, Shane!" he reminded before struggling to get the gun away from him, "Are you done now? Are you done?"

"Yeah, I guess we all are," Shane disputed.

"I think you're lying," Rick said to Edwin, "You're lying about no hope. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path, why?"

"It doesn't matter," Jenner sheepishly said.

"It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?"

"Not because I wanted to. I made a promise," he proceeded to point towards the screen, "To her. My wife."

"Test subject 19 was your wife?" Lori questioned sympathetically.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Jenner paused, looking to Daryl, who continued to use his axe against the door no matter how useless it was, "She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was Einstein. Me? I'm just... Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me." Jacey sighed, feeling the pain of his loss substantially.

Rick pleaded once more, "Your wife didn't have a choice. You do. That's... that's all we want a choice... a chance."

"You let us keep trying as long as we can," Lori added.

Jenner moves over to the desk picking up what looked like a security pad and said, "I told topside's locked down. I can't open those."

Seconds later, the doors open and everyone begins to rush out of them, "There's your chance. Take it"

"I'm grateful," Rick smiled, lifting his hand for him to shake.

"The day will come when you won't be," Jenner said before shaking Rick's hand and whispering something in his ear.

"You can't go, you know that, right?" Addie says, her voice kinder now, which Jacey was more grateful for.

"I know. I want to be with you again," Jacey looked to the girl reluctantly, hoping that the walker won't appear again.

Addie's face - her normal one - came into view, blooming a big smile on the younger girls face, "And you will, love. I'm never going to leave you again, I promise."

"I love you, Addie."

"I lov-" Addie's voice was interrupted by a male one "Jacey, c'mon, angel, grab your things. Let's go."

Jacey shook her head at the man she realised to be her father, "I-I'm not coming." Rick stopped, hoping his ears were deceiving him but then looked at her tear-covered face and realised.

"No, you're not, baby. Let's go," Lori shouted from behind Rick.

"Lori just go. Get the others out of here," he ordered his wife, "We're right behind you." The rest of the group stampeded out of the room, Lori and Carl lingering for a short minute, hoping Rick will be able to convince her to join them.

"Tell him you're sorry, Jace," Addie whispered, holding her hand.

"I'm sorry but I-I can't."

"Yes you can, Jacey, please. You're not thinking straight," Rick prayed that she'd see reason and join them, but his heart stopped when she shook her head.

"I can't anymore, dad. I'm so tired." Jacey looked around the room, seeing that not only Jenner was still here but so was Jacqui and Andrea.

An arm snaked over her shoulder, squeezing it gently, an arm, belonging to Mitchell, "Tell him to leave, babydoll, and then you'll be with us forever."

She smiled at his words and then returned her eyes to her father's blue ones, "You have to leave. I want to stay with them."

"I'm not leaving you here, angel," He cried, tightly holding the sides of her face.

"Addie was only 16, dad, Mitch was 25. We had children in our camp. I-I should've died with them. I don't deserve to live when they had to die."

"Listen to me, Jace, you survived for a reason, okay? You don't have to agree with me, but whoever is up there, whatever is in charge made it so you weren't there. So you wouldn't die. They wouldn't want you to die here and now. Your story is not over yet. I won't allow it," Rick wailed, heavier than earlier as he watched his daughter looked to her left and right as if looking at people that weren't there, "Your death isn't going to bring them back."

"I can't leave them, daddy," She paused, "I already hurt them enough."

"Who are you talking about, angel?" his voice breaking slightly.

"Addie and Mitchell," Jacey told him as if it was obvious, "I can't leave them alone again."

"Addie and Mitchell are dead, baby. They're not here anymore," the man pleaded with his deluded daughter.

"No," she argued, squeezing her eyes shut, "shut up. You're lying, they're here with me now, they want me to stay. She promised me she wouldn't leave again," Jacey cried, looking at Addie and Mitchell, slowly seeing them morph into their walker forms, "Oh god. No, not again, please, not again. They're going to hurt me, daddy. They're going to hurt me like I hurt them."

"Hey baby, look at me, only me, okay?" he stopped her from looking to where he assumed she saw them, "No one's gonna hurt you. Addie and Mitchell are gone. They can't hurt you, alright? Now we've got to go, angel, before it's too late." Jacey wanted to nod, to go with him, but the grip that Addie and Mitchell had on her tightened, making her let out a small cry.

At once, they both turned into their undead self's clawing at her skin instead of holding it, "You can't leave, Jacey. Not when you did this to us."

"No! Shut up! Leave me alone! I want to live! I don't want to die!" Rick watched the girl breakdown her hands beginning to claw away at any visible skin. The man grabbed her hands, stopping the movement before looking over to the timer seeing it hit the 5-minute mark.

"I'm sorry, Jacey. I'm so sorry baby," Jacey heard him cry before feeling him move away from her.

"Jacey, look at me, sweetheart," A kind, shaky voice begged of her. Jacey turned to meet their eyes, seeing a crying Jacqui, "You gotta go, darling, please."

"I can't, Jacqui. I can't keep going on like this," She paused, "I'm not strong enough."

"Yes you are, child. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, don't ever trick yourself into thinking you're not," Jacqui apprised the younger girl.

"I'm not as strong as you think, Jacqui. Nowhere even close."

"That's where your wrong, sweetheart. You've got a lot of heart and if do say so myself a lot of balls," She smiled at her, "You're gonna survive this world, I'm sure of it." Jacqui stops speaking as she looked at the girl, aware of the mental state, "Look, sweetie, I'm not gonna force you outta that door, as much as I'd like too. I don't want you to die today, Jacey, but it seems like it's going that way so let me tell you something, okay?" Jacey nodded, "And you gotta promise me the moment you understand it you'll leave, you'll survive," she nodded once more, "Philippians 1:29; For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him but also to suffer for his sake." Jacey stayed silent not quite comprehending the meaning of the passage.

"I don't understand, I don't get it, Jacqui," She cried into her palms.

"That's okay, sweetie, just breathe..." Jacqui refrained, "It means your pain has a purpose, whatever that purpose may be."

"Do you understand now?"

Jacey shook her head sadly, "That's okay, take your rest. I will see you once more in another life." Jacey watched as the older woman rejoined Jenner at his computer and observed as she wished that their conversation had gone another way and in some way Jenner also did.

"You have to stay Jace. You said you understood that. Everything will be better if you do," Addie warned, "If you go you will kill every single one of them out there. Do you want that? Do you want them dead? Your dad? Your mom? Carl?" Jacey shook her head manically, her mind flashing unforgiving images of their bodies eaten and unmoving, "So stay with me, my love. Stay, and I'll love you forever."

Jacey nodded at her before muttering, "I'll love you forever too," causing Addie to smile. Jacey began to move closer to the dark-skinned girl, her face returning back to her natural one.

"I wanna kiss you, Jace," Addie parted her lips inching towards Jace's.

"Me too," She replied, shyness shrouding her confidence.

But before their lips could touch, the masculine voice returned, "I'm sorry, Jacey," following a sharp twinge in her neck. Immediately, she felt a rush of dizziness hit her, Addie and Mitchell disappearing shortly afterwards, "no." She fell off her chair and into a pair of muscular arms, "I'm sorry, angel."

"Addie," she cried before the darkness took over her.

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couriersiccs · 2 years

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gun violence tw, death tw, tried keeping it short but i have anxiety about our society & government and also haha this sucks, man.

like, isn’t this exactly what shittenhaus’s acquittal set us up for? people who feel like they can be the vigilantes they think they’re being and get a pat on the back by the state for it? the ID of saturday night’s shooter hasn’t been released, well over 24 hours past the event, and it’s only speculation so far as to why (the fact that he’s still in the ICU? that he has ties to PPB?) it’s partly my anxiety that tells me he will go unpunished and that this will just keep happening, but not entirely. the false narratives spun by the PPB, the alt-right dipshits, the people who claim to be journalists and are in fact just violent fucking scumbags, gleefully spinning the narrative to their own uses, who couldn’t give less of a shit about people’s lives or what’s true or not as long as it serves them and their inflammatory agenda that LEADS to violence like this on PURPOSE -

it feels like living during wartime and there hasn’t even been a war officially declared. this is not Actual Wartime, i cannot stress how much i don’t want to devalue the experiences of people who have lived through capital-W War, but it’s like a parallel universe of war seeping into the one we’re all experiencing, that only some of us are even perceptive to. that only some of us can or want to pay attention to. i don’t want war, but the people waging it do, and they use these “independent agents” as a sort of fucking proxy war or some shit. the war of disinfo. the internal war, the one responsible for further polarizing of every side possible. the war of ideas that spawns actual acts of warfare. conveniently under no structure of command, just people starting fires and hoping they’ll catch a strong wind in the direction of their preference.

i think of all the people who have never had their suffering recognized, both in this place and others. i see it as such a fucking crime against humanity to see someone in pain and to not believe that they’re in pain. to dismiss someone’s own experiences. it’s the basis of gaslighting, the basis of genocide denial, all rooted in the same sentiment: “You say you’ve experienced pain, but I don’t believe you because I have my own ideas that I think are more real than yours.”

it’s ego, the fearful guarding of it by any means necessary. it’s power, the absolute defense against losing it, even if it’s power unfairly granted, power you didn’t gain yourself, power over others that no one should have access to. it’s sadism, sometimes, but far less often than i think people dismiss this as. still a factor, though. sometimes.

i’m just processing.. this whole thing. again, and again. people who could be me if i chose to participate in the ways they do, but don’t, specifically because of these risks that i’m personally not okay with. the women in this attack didn’t even think that night would be dangerous, since it’d been a recurring protest that has been civil and peaceful, afaik, since its conception. they were just directing traffic. they were there to prevent cars from attacking protesters. (i’m reminded of Summer Taylor in 2020. of charlottesville.) that was the role they accepted, and some guy comes out of a nearby home with a .45, calling them terrorist cunts, and they try to reason with him and he just fucking shoots them.

how can you account for that? how can you protest peacefully when people are sitting in their homes, guzzling lies to feel justified in their outrage over, ready to pick up the gun they own and take that outrage out on other people? how can anyone blame protesters for not protesting peacefully when this shit can, does, and will continue to happen? there was ONE protester on saturday who had a gun, and he used it to bring down the shooter. it was miraculous that only one person died, but absolutely fucking tragic that even one person died.

and we have 934k deaths reported from COVID to date in the US.

absolute fucking tragedies. that’s all war is, and that’s what it feels like, and i can’t stop mourning because, not only is it not over yet, it’s barely even begun or been recognized by anyone who abstains from involvement, even if they live in the same apartment complex as you, even if they were born in the same family as you. i can only regroup, feel what i feel when it needs to be felt, and then do the work i know i need to do.

recognition, restoration, reparation. that’s all we’ve ever asked for, and we’re losing our lives over it. (by “we” i mean all of humanity that has in fact asked for such, which i think includes protesters in support of Black Lives Matter. that includes those who support protesters. we’re all in this together, right?)

#.txt #go fucking follow your local journalists #figure out what you're going to do #anything is better than nothing

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 11

Wordcount: 5,150 Rating: M for strong language, ideologically sensitive and mature themes, gore “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did.” Chapter synopsis: Allen and Arthur race to find you both, but it proves to be harder without knowing your whereabouts. Meanwhile, you've successfully helped Alfred find the chip. Before leaving, you have a long-awaited conversation with your father to realize he's more insane than you thought. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): Cyberninja, Trouble finds trouble, Tower Lockdown, Me!Me!Me!, Pt. 2, Him & I (with Halsey), Atlantis. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

Cyberninja

Before Arthur could even buckle himself in, Allen rammed his foot into the gas pedal. He was thrown back in a violent manner, and hit his head against the headrest. But the mechanic never complained. He looked stressed enough as is, continually scanning the road while murmuring to himself as if he’d really gone mad. “Hell, that motherfucker could be anywhere in the whole fucking city right now.” He hissed, pulling out of the driveway and into the main road.

“We can’t call him. Track him. Nothing. Same goes for (F/N). They’re off the map.” Turning to his companion numerous times in distress, he sped through the streets, though he had no particular destination in mind.

The indicator clicked. Allen cursed at the car in front of them, but never made a move to overtake. As Arthur became overwhelmed by these stimulants, he opened his mouth, defeated. “If you’re in such a hurry, why--why bother following traffic rules? You never have before, so why now?” He asked with a shake of the head, earning a loud scoff from the other.

The car windows glowed with a flurry of pinks and purples as they moved closer to the commercial district. They were near their first stop.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t give a damn if I didn’t have to.” The whites of his eyes reflected a mosaic of color as he never looked away from the road. “But that was when I was working for my boss. I had protection. I could do a hit and run if I wanted, and without the running part.” The redhead breathed. Then, he stuck his head out of the window with a huff. Immediately, he was choked by the city smog, and deafened by the blaring of car horns.

“Friggen’ prick...” He flipped off the driver in front of him. Sitting back into his seat, he flashed Arthur a grin, though the man couldn’t return the energy.

“Did you get fired? Or did you quit?” This wasn’t the best time to ask about the past, but he had been dying to know why he wound up half-dead on his doorstep. So what better a time to do it than now?

“I quit.” Allen answered point-blank. “Old man didn’t take it well. Decided to kill me. Didn’t.” Slowing the vehicle, they arrived at a parking-lot surrounded by backdoors of multiple piss-poor establishments. One of which was illuminated by a flickering red neon sign that read ‘no-tell motel’.

“He thinks I’m dead, so the rest of the city has to think that too.”

Arthur gawked at him. “That makes you no better than a fugitive! And it’s not just anybody after you--Allen, he’ll kill you when he finds out you’re still alive!”

“And that’s why he won’t find out.” Tapping the side of his neck for a flap to open, the said man slotted a small disk inside. “Disables cybernetic upgrades in a twenty foot radius. Means I can’t use mine, but it stops other people from figuring out who I am.” He dug through one of the compartments for a muffler, which he wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

What he did next was alarming, however. Sticking his hand further in, he pulled out a gun and cocked it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing--!?” Arthur exclaimed, fumbling with a face mask Allen tossed his way. He didn’t see a silencer anywhere either. “If I can call the police without any upgrades, so can everyone else!”

His statement couldn’t ring any truer, and yet, it never slowed down the other’s movements as he climbed out of the car. Unsatisfied by his silence, he wound up getting out to follow him. “Oi, say something! At least let me know you’re not gonna shoot up a restaurant!” Whispering that part out, he had to speed up a few steps to catch up with the man, now marching to the backdoor of a motel.

“Put the mask on.” Allen murmured without sparing him a single glance. But he paused briefly to process what he said. “... A motel, you mean. But I’m hoping we won’t have to resort to that.”

Arthur’s eyes went round. “You were considering--”

He could share the desperation to save Alfred’s life, but he had a hard time following how. Shooting up a motel? What was he thinking?

“Yes.” Attaching his hand to the door, it creaked open. Before Allen took another step, he faced him with a serious glower. “Now when we get inside, I want you to walk up to the receptionist. He’s programmed to greet you. Ask him for a room, and while you do, I’ll approach him from behind and deactivate him. Kapeesh?”

But then again, he was in the dark here. Arthur hadn’t the slightest clue on what Alfred’s circumstances were, as mysterious as the man was, so he had no idea how he was on the verge of dying.

So naturally, he wouldn’t know how to save him either.

But he trusted Allen to know what to do.

“... Alright. You better not make me regret this, you tyke.”

“You can call me anything you want, just not that. I’m not a kid anymore.” Those words would become apparent as they walked inside, where their plan went by without a hitch. They heard the automated voice of superficial kindness, which stopped abruptly to the sound of an android powering off. Its body fell to the ground to reveal Allen standing behind. Without wasting a second, he leaned over and typed furiously on the keyboard of the computer.

Trouble finds trouble

“Lemme see if this has a log of everybody who came by...” A few moments later, he started nodding at what he saw. “Bingo...” On their private encrypted server, stored the history of all the guests who booked a night. “Well, what do you know... Alfred checked out two days ago. But he’s on the move.” Pulling away to stand up straight, he jogged over to the exit.

“Even if someone tried to look for him in one a’ these places, he’d have to get behind the reception and do exactly what I did.” This someone referred to Matsumoto, but death already followed Alfred wherever he went. Not that Alfred knew that. “The perks of a no-tell motel. Even if they reek of piss, so long as there’s crime, they’ll never go out of business.” He beckoned Arthur to follow him with a tilt of the head.

“One down, twenty-seven more to go. And that’s only in the direction he’s going... And under the assumption he’s only staying at these motels. So, uh, let’s hope he didn’t try to be too unpredictable.”

The Brit huffed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“I think he’d be predictable to do that if you asked me.” He murmured. “But you call the shots. I’ll just be... Moral support.”

Allen already disappeared out the door, but his head poked into the doorframe at that. “Nah. You have the most important job outta’ the both of us.”

That was right. He didn’t tell him yet. He really should’ve a while ago, but he got caught up in the chase.

“Whether you remove a chip from his head or not will determine if he lives or not.”

Arthur paled.

“He’s the guy my boss wanted me to kill. Remember the dude I told you about? The one who tried to steal a prototype chip three years ago?” Now that he mentioned it, he recalled the conversation a few weeks ago. But wait a minute.

The mechanic felt his face scrunch up as he was hit with a major epiphany. That was Alfred? The terrorist Allen had been updating him about? He was the man who tore up three floors of the headquarters of Matsumoto Optics, and simultaneously, the same customer he had been serving for the last few years.

Before he could even process his shock, he was presented with even more appalling information.

“He stole it this time. That’s what he and (F/N) disappeared to do. But now that it’s in his head, it’ll overwrite his consciousness until he’s a fucking vegetable.”

Arthur was horrified. “Then why would he even--”

“Because he doesn’t know.” Allen cut in with a grim expression. “He thought the chip was supposed to give him immortality, so he wanted to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Like my boss. But no. It’s the opposite. It was all a ploy to kill him.” At this point, the blonde was at loss for words. As a doctor and mechanic, he was quite frankly terrified of how devilishly clever Matsumoto was. But he couldn’t expect any less from him, could he?

They made it back to the car, and he could only stare aimlessly out the windshield, paralyzed.

“That’s why we need you.” He heard him say. Turning to the man, albeit slowly, he felt a hand slap down on his shoulder. Allen gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re the smartest guy I know, second to my boss. You were always great at fixing stuff. Cars, enhancements, people--so what’s a mixture of all three?”

Arthur dug a hand through his hair stressfully. “... You’re kidding.” And yet, he already knew he was on board. “... Are you calling him a car?”

The other flattened his lips. “... He technically could be.”

“Just to be clear, I fucking hate you.”

Allen laughed. “Sure.”

“But otherwise, we’re wasting time.” He couldn’t believe the words falling from his lips. This was really happening, wasn’t it? After taking him in as an apprentice for his auto shop, the roles were finally reversed. He no longer took charge as the teacher. Or rather, he became the student caught up in the most difficult assignment yet. Having a taste of Allen’s work.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

***

Tower Lockdown

You had all the reasons in the world to be anxious coming home.

On top of worrying over Alfred, who had hundreds of trained assassins coming at him all at once, during every minute of the heist, you had to face an aspect of reality you avoided until now. You were in the building, and he had already stolen the chip. It was slotted comfortably in his head, ready to leave the premises.

How come your father never appeared? Was he really just going to let you go just like that?

But the real question was this--should you stay or leave?

Yes, you hardly approved of anything he’d done. Done to the world like Alfred always mentioned, and to Alfred himself. But you weren’t prepared to abandon him yet. He was still your father, and the only family you had. If you had to make a decision, you needed some closure. If not, a discussion.

And you expected him to give it to you as the least he could do.

As Alfred stood among a pile of dead bodies bathing in red, his mantis blades trembled against a katana blade. Even with his hands full, he made the time to check on you. “(F/N)! Stay away from walls! Just hang on for a second longer!” He shouted, turning to you briefly before diverting his attention back to his opponent. “We’re nearly home free!”

Pulling away to give him a swift jab in the chest, blood sprayed onto his face, but he wasn’t fazed.

What did, however, was the sight of you being thrown over the shoulder of one of the bodyguards. Color drained from his face and he burst into a sprint.

“(F/N)! No!” Watching you disappear into an elevator, he slammed right into the closing metal doors. “Fuck!” He slammed his fist against them to hear a loud bang. Before he could linger too long, he hastily made his way to a door adjacent. The emergency stairs would take a hell lot longer, but as if he’d wait for the elevator to come back down.

Even if he needed to climb up a hundred flights to get to you, he would--all the way to the penthouse where Matsumoto was.

When those men approached you, there was no struggle on your end. You knew where they were going to take you. And you wanted them to. It could even be said you were relieved, because that meant your father was thinking of you. After a minute or so, the soft whirring fell silent, followed by a soft ‘ding’.

They moved outside the elevator, and after a few steps, they set you down on your feet. Right in the middle of your father’s office. At the very end behind a desk sat the man himself, and he was eyeing you with an unreadable expression. Upon returning his stare, came an onslaught of emotions. But the most prominent was incapacitating anxiety.

Even as his daughter, you could never see through him. He was impossible to read. So you had no idea what to expect.

“Dad... We need to talk.” You began, walking up to him warily. This was what you wished for at the start, cried for, even. To return home. And yet, the nervous pounding in your chest seemed to worsen with every step you took. It was jarring to confront how much had changed since then. So while you barely managed any words, you were already overwhelmed, struggling to choke back tears.

“For once, I need to know what you’re thinking.”

He inhaled deeply before responding. “I was under the same impression that we’d have this conversation.” Standing up from his chair, he furrowed his brows at the sight of you clenching the fabric of your pants. “Don’t look so nervous, child. You haven’t done anything to anger or disappoint me.” Reaching out to your head, he settled a hand on it.

“... Really?” You whispered out. Hearing his assurances calmed you down a touch. But when you saw the forlorn gaze he cast down at you, your heart was crushed. “... Dad?”

Me!Me!Me!, Pt.2

Any existing contempt for him melted away just like that, but you weren’t upset at yourself for it. Your father hardly expressed any emotion besides calm indifference. And when he did, it always felt like the world was ending.

“I’m the one who deserves your anger.” He clarified, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “I’ve left you by yourself for far too long, (F/N). I hope you don’t hold it against me that you had to come home yourself.” You hung your head, unable to meet his saddened gray eyes. If you were to hold a grudge at him for it, you’d start by avoiding his gaze. “And I understand why you would’ve wanted to help him. He has a way with words, and a naïve sense of justice. But it’s a warped perception of reality.”

You’d hate to admit it, but no matter how cruel he seemed to be, there was a method to his madness.

And you were perhaps the only person in the world to know it.

That was why you were so torn. Torn between hating him and understanding him. After all, you couldn’t have both. “You can’t blame him after what you did to him.” Glancing up at that, you felt bile rise in your throat. Then, your vision blurred. “I don’t know what you’re aiming for--for this company, and this world. But you can’t expect him to accept this world you created when you stole him from his. He had a life!”

Staring at him through hot tears, he breathed out a soft sigh before rubbing them away with a swipe of the thumb. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. And I won’t expect you to forgive me even after telling you the reasons for my actions.”

He pulled away from you to begin walking back to his desk, but not to sit down. Instead, he stood by the window to watch the blinking lights of skyscrapers and small moving dots of cars on the streets. “In a society that normalizes cybernetic enhancements, many forget what it is to be human. He never did. So of course, he would reject the idea of immortality. The destruction of the most human quality there is.”

He paused briefly to scan the landscape.

“Mortality. One’s inevitable end gives everything they do meaning.”

Wrinkles creased between your brows. It was confusing to hear him speak so highly of death, frustrating, even. Wasn’t he the one investing billions into correcting it like a flaw? “If that’s what you really think, then why? Why would you make something that would take that all away?”

He held his hands behind his back. “To serve the greater good. A sacrifice, if you will.” The man turned to you, this time with a serious glower. “Alfred thinks I would commercialize it. Sell it to the public. But he’s wrong. Immortality will only be available to the leaders of the world.”

By leaders, you could only assume he meant people like him. Not politicians, but business men and women. Company owners. The most powerful forces of the present. “The inability to die is a curse. You never move on because you’re still breathing. But that may be just what the world needs. Stagnation. An absence of change.”

It was daunting to know this man was your father. You couldn’t say you were born with half as many of these attributes he had. Intelligence was easily passed down, but there was something else written in his genes you could never dream of having. “With every passing year, decade, and century, humanity frays like a rope. Society continues to deteriorate... All until self-destruction becomes a matter of time.” Facing the window again, he scanned the impressive architecture he was proud to call his own. And it looked as pristine as it did yesterday.

“The only way to stop this was to take control of it myself. And that’s how I came to found this company. I’ve found a way to govern the people. To invest in science as the world’s last and only hope. But it’s a job that will last eons, so I was prepared to do it until the end of time.”

He was right in saying that society was inevitably doomed with the direction it was heading. That technology was the only solution, along with a world government. Matsumoto Optics. A cosmocracy with jurisdiction over the whole planet. There would be no wars. No conflict. And with only one state to call the shots, things could be done so much faster on a global scale.

It was a radical concept to grasp, but you couldn’t say there was no logic to it. “Alfred was meant to do it with me. To reincarnate again and again as my closest aide on my quest to preserve the world. But he ended up being the opposite. My foil.” Matsumoto shook his head. “Alfred is a nostalgic soul. He’s too attached to the past. But the way of the old can never last with how fast it makes the world burn. Even if he realized that, he would want to exact revenge on me after what I’ve done to him.”

“So before he destroys everything I’ve created, I have to destroy him first.”

Him & I (with Halsey)

You tensed up all over, but before you could ask him what he meant by destroy, the doors burst open. The very subject of the conversation had appeared, and just in time for the conclusion of it. His arrival caught you completely off guard, successfully derailing your train of thought, but your father merely acknowledged his arrival. “Ah. Speak of the devil.”

“Speak for yourself, you fucking demon.” He spat, marching over to your side to pull you into his chest. Immediately putting his hands all over your face, he was riddled with concern as he inspected you. “You okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. What are you still doing here? C’mon, let’s go.” While he reached down to your hand to lead you away, you stayed put.

As relieved as you were to see him here, you couldn’t follow him out yet. You gave his hand a squeeze, then a soft smile of reassurance. Then, you turned to your father.

This time, you held him in a firm stare.

“Even if everyone thinks you’re crazy, I always knew you’d have some kind of justification for everything.” You started. Little did you know, you would take back this statement in the very near future. “But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Alfred. He never ended up doing anything you wanted him to, so giving him all those adjustments was pointless for you. But not for him. If you wanted to get rid of him, it wouldn't be easy.”

Matsumoto closed his eyes as if to agree. That was what you interpreted it as, at least. But unbeknownst to you, he was doing anything but. “I wouldn’t know what’s best for this world.”

“But what I do know is that I won’t let you hurt him.”

You spoke those words with a conviction so strong, Alfred’s eyes widened when he heard it. It wasn’t news you cared deeply for him, but to hear you say it to your father like that, and Matsumoto, no less, it made his mechanical heart pound more than he could fathom. You were actively disobeying him, a man you previously revolved your life around, for his sake. To say he was infatuated would be an understatement.

You felt his grip on you tighten.

“Say what you will, and I’ll respect your conviction. But I will come for him.” The bearded man murmured in a foreboding tone. A sinister light glinted in his dark gray irises. “And in the most unexpected way he could ever imagine. You will never want to see me again when that happens.”

“If.” Your voice was a little strained. As much as you wanted to hate him and move on, you couldn’t. Every single fiber of your being was urging you to find a reason, any reason, to not despise the man who raised you. “If, dad. Because if you did, I really will never forgive you. I’ll hate you forever.”

A grim expression contorted at his face. In his many decades on the planet, he’d never felt more dread. But one had to wonder if that was the right word. The regret had already arrived, because he’d already done something unforgivable. It was only a matter of time before you’d find out. “I’ve already done something to earn your unconditional hatred, child.”

That was right. He’d killed Allen, your best friend and only other semblance of family in your life. And perhaps, the person you held the closest to your heart. “Soon, you will learn what it is. So I’ll let you leave today because you will never want to come back. I’d imagine that to be more… Convenient for you.”

It was only your ignorance that blessed him this last moment. The last moment where you’d see him as your father with eyes unclouded by hatred. But it was short-lived.

It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together, and in your short silence, you came to remember someone that had been gone for a while. Allen.

Atlantis

You woke up in a cold sweat. For just one measly second as you oriented yourself, you weren’t tortured by a fury. Betrayal. Disgust. But it all came rushing back to you like the memories of that Godforsaken day you met with your father.

Sitting up with a deep frown, you felt heat build up around your face. It would be etched in your mind forever. The memory of Allen laying in the dump. Tossed out like a broken toy. Then, the stench of blood and rust as he was left for dead.

You always knew your father was mad, but he kept on surprising you with how mad he was. Turning to the figure beside you, tears only overwhelmed your waterline to see his chest rise and fall steadily.

He was still here. Alive and well. You could only hope the same for Allen.

It had been ten days since the heist. There hadn’t been a single sign of Matsumoto or his men, meaning Alfred really did do his research on the best places to hide. Climbing onto his form, you wound up laying on his chest. Then, you peered down at his sleeping face.

As you got comfortable, you felt a smile creep onto your lips. If the you from a few months ago saw what you were doing, she’d be flabbergasted. Since when did you like him this much?

Your cheeks grew a little rosy as you became self-aware of the position you were in. Full-on embarrassment hit you when he began to stir, but before you could get off of him, his eyes fluttered open. Uh oh. Now this warranted an explanation.

For a second, he was confused, but when he saw that it was just you, he grinned lazily. “Morning, babe. Care to tell me why you’re not sleeping on your side of the bed?”

He’d totally cornered you. And did he just call you babe? “Um... I, well... I woke up on you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I was just about to get off.” Sliding yourself off of him at that, you tried your damndest to simmer down. But he never gave you the chance. Rolling over to face you, he pulled you in around your waist much to your surprise. “Hey!”

You never got around to pointing out that pet name, either.

He caught you in a serious stare. “Don’t be so shy. We’re close, aren’t we?” Alfred was never one to beat around the bush. You knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t mean you were used to it. Lowering your head at that, you fixated on his chest.

“... I guess so. That doesn’t mean I can sleep on you like that, though. And plus, it must’ve been uncomfortable.”

“Nah. You’re light as hell.” He hummed. Sitting up with you on his lap, his statement became more apparent in how effortless he made it seem. “You’re like a few grapes, really. So don’t worry about it.”

Why he chose to focus on that part of your argument was beyond you. Did he really not see anything wrong with what you were doing? Or maybe he did, and didn’t want to mention it. He’d been hugging you a lot lately the past week, but that wasn’t as deserving of your attention as spooning you while he slept.

Wasn’t he pushing the envelope? It would make sense he was just trying to comfort you after your run-in with your father, and your discovery that he was the one who attempted to off your best friend. But wasn’t this a bit much?

He wrapped his arms around your neck. There was nothing between you both, and yet, he was holding you like there was. Like you were his.

"...” It was in his smile. It was different to how he always looked at you, as if there was finally something behind those electric blue irises. Something alive. Something hot. As you played around with the idea, you lit up like a Christmas tree and pushed his mouth away. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Almost as if he read your mind, he relented. But only reluctantly. Picking you up from under your arms, he set you onto the mattress so he could get out of bed. Looking back at you over his shoulder, he gave your cheek an affectionate pinch. “Whatever you say. I’ll be back after a piss.”

When he left the room, you were left to your own devices. As you brought your knees to your chest, you came to realize how tight it was. He’d only left for a few seconds, and you were already waiting for him to return. It was ridiculous to think about, but it was almost as if you missed him. Already.

Did spending all this time with him give you some kind of separation anxiety?

Or was it something more?

You couldn’t tell.

The fact that he mentioned ‘I’ll be back’ suggested he was aware of your attachment to him. You buried your face into your knees.

Turns out, you weren��t the only one having a hard time processing your feelings.

When he disappeared into the bathroom, he pressed his back against the wall. Reaching up to his chest, he scrunched up a part of his shirt as the pounding in his heart subsided--his metaphorical one. Alfred didn’t think it was weird to find you on top of him like that, let alone dislike it. In fact, he loved it. It gave him a shred of hope that maybe, you did like him the way he liked you.

But that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t be with you.

This was the fifth motel he’d been to after the heist. There was no saying he’d be dead by the end of the day. Not when your father was after his head. So he wasn’t about to start anything. That would be too selfish, even for him--though one had to wonder if ‘selfish’ could even describe him anymore. He was anything but. At least, for you he wasn’t.

Alfred would only be proven right when he took a step towards the toilet. His vision started to glitch. Then, he lost his balance, falling over the sink and slamming his head against the mirror. “Fuck--!” Stumbling back onto his feet, he was engulfed in black for a few seconds. What the hell was going on?

His bout of disorientation lasted for far too long to be normal.

Before he would start accepting the prospect of going blind, his vision returned. He thought he would celebrate that moment, but he forgot what he was even fussing about. What happened? Lowering his gaze to his hands, he stared at them for a while before looking back up. What was he doing here? Where was he?

That was right. He was in a motel. With you. Running away from uncertain death. It took a minute or so to recall all of these things, and that was what alarmed him. It seemed like his body wasn’t accepting the chip very well.

Temporary memory loss and blindness was just apart of the transition, right?

Little did he know, it was anything but.

Outside that very district sat two men in a car. Bags hung under their dull eyes as they scanned the streets as vigilantly as their sleep deprivation let them. It had been two days since they slept, but they wouldn’t rest until they found him. There were only four days until the damage was done.

If they didn’t get to the man before then, he would be as good as dead.

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Text

back again with the unasked for fic

I’ll add line cuts and links to the other parts when I get my hands on my laptop again. Sorry.

Unwoven -

Qui-Gon discovers Obi-Wan in the middle of contacting the Jedi Council. Things spiral drastically from there.

Obi-Wan centric

AU (canon divergence from middle of Master & Apprentice by Claudia Gray), Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense

Spoilers! for Master & Apprentice

Part Two

Fanry tutted as she saw Obi-Wan approaching.

“Didn’t I just get rid of you? You don’t need to stick so close to me,” she reminded him. “I have guards.”

“It’s my job,” the young Jedi said immediately, coming to stand a few feet away from her where she stood before several large swaths of fine cloth, trying to decide on a new wardrobe for the following season. “And I know your Regent would prefer it.”

A tight smile pulled at her lips. “Rael is a worrier.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head. “You’re not wrong about that. But he has reason to worry over you right now.”

“I suppose.”

Fanry ran a hand over a bolt of forest green, her expression pinched. She seemed to be chewing on something that she wasn’t sure how to say, so Obi-Wan waited patiently.

Finally - “I do appreciate all your help,” Fanry said in a stilted and surprisingly unfriendly tone, “but I would also appreciate some privacy.”

“I could stand outside the door,” Obi-Wan offered. “But with the negotiations ceased and my Master busy, I can’t leave you entirely.”

She turned to face him, arms crossed. “I told you, I’m perfectly well guarded. Just take the evening off.” The princess was agitated; she motioned towards the door with a firm glare.

Obi-Wan felt his forehead crease slightly as he frowned at her. “I can’t leave you completely. The Jedi Council - and the Senate - have given me the task of ensuring you are crowned and the treaty signed.”

Fanry’s jaw clenched. She turned to Cady, who looked between the Jedi and the princess helplessly for a few moments before finally saying, “I think it would be best if you left; I think she’d appreciate even just an hour to her own devices.”

Obi-Wan felt a prickle of unease. They were trying too hard.

What did Fanry not want him to see? Was she looking for the chance to slip out and enjoy the evening free of supervision?

He clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

Fanry eyed him.

Then quite suddenly she relaxed, chuckling. “Oh all right, I suppose I should have known.”

They fell into a polite silence as the princess continued making decisions and the Jedi continued his watchful wait.

Obi-Wan was struggling to remain still.

Normally that was not such an issue for him, but ever since the moment Qui-Gon had caught him speaking to the Council, the uncomfortable prickling in the back of his mind had only grown, making him feel constantly chilled.

Does Qui-Gon feel like this, too? he wondered glumly. Or is shutting down our training bond a matter of no consequence to him?

That seemed likely.

A Master who constantly disagreed with his student but never engaged in conversation with him, a Master who had prepared to abandon his pupil to seek out another teacher without so much as a warning - well, what would a Master like that care for a silly thing like a bond?

Then again.

The failings in this whole mess could be traced back to the apprentice, not the Master.

Perhaps this cold feeling was a sign of Obi-Wan’s weakness and inability to deal with change.

Yes... yes, that was it.

Obi-Wan was so caught up in his pondering that he nearly missed it when there was a soft, stilted series of knocks - not on the door, but on one of the windows.

He spun around, hand moving to his saber hilt.

Fanry darted to the window at top speed, hair flying - a looming figure leaned forward against the glass, motioning for entry -

Obi-Wan sprang forward with a cry of warning, but was completely caught off guard when Cady tackled him from the side, sending them both crashing to the floor. The younger girl rolled so that she was on top of him, her hands desperately clinging to his wrists, trying to keep them pinned to the floor.

“Cady!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Hurry!” Fanry hissed as she opened the window. Captain Deren leapt through, his eyebrows rising at the scene before him. Obi-Wan tried to throw Cady off gently without hurting her - and this was his mistake.

Deren strode over, glaring down at the Jedi with contempt.

A second later his boot connected with Obi-Wan’s skull.

Pain and flashing lights consumed him. He gasped, twisting violently, but felt another kick catch him at the base of his spine. Cady must have gotten off of him because he went sprawling, colliding with the bed.

Instinctively, Obi-Wan reached for two things - for his saber, and for the training bond.

Neither came to him.

His weapon was taken from him by prying hands, and the bond remained distant and cold as it had been.

His head spun.

Obi-Wan rolled away from the next strike, rising unsteadily to his feet and pulling on the Force, trying to fall into that strange battle mediation that Qui-Gon had tried again and again to teach him.

He failed yet again.

Out of options, he lunged forward barehanded and swung at Deren, who barely ducked in time, clearly not expecting the battered Jedi to put up a fight.

His first hit caught Deren in the chin, sending him reeling. The next feinted past the Captain’s head as Obi-Wan swung low and elbowed him forcefully in the abdomen. Deren lashed out wildly and barely missed punching the Padawan in the face; his hand grazed the short coppery hair.

Then that hand tangled forcefully in Obi-Wan’s nerftail, yanking his head backwards sharply.

Obi-Wan’s last kick went awry as he cried out in pain, his already injured head throbbing, his vision swimming dangerously now.

“Down,” the man hissed at him, hurling the apprentice to the floor.

Obi-Wan’s lips drew back in a snarl, but with Deren standing over him and Cady and Fanry flanking him, he knew his chances of escape were slim at best. Better to wait, gather his strength, try and figure out just what in the galaxy was going on here.

Assuming they didn’t intend to kill him.

Again he reached for his Master, and again he was rebuffed.

He supposed he had gotten what he had asked for. He had undermined Qui-Gon and driven him away; there was no reason the man would answer him now.

“—couldn’t get rid of him!” he heard Fanry complaining. “Now what are we going to do?”

“We can’t kill him,” Cady said, sounding a little nauseous at the idea. She had knelt down beside him, her fingers searching his scalp as she assessed his injury.

“No,” agreed Deren. “No we can’t. Not until after the ceremony. Which means we need him to cooperate.”

Obi-Wan looked up at the man, ignoring the spike of pain that lanced through his skull. “Jedi do not cooperate with terrorists or tyrants.”

Fanry laughed.

It was a cruel, self-satisfied sound he had never anticipated hearing from her. “Oh I think you will,” she said. “Don’t forget that it is you and Rael who have both betrayed me by trying to see this treaty passed. Your Master tried to stop it, and I would spare him - if you cooperate. I can take this system by force if I need to, but I don’t want to. If you force my hand, the bloodshed will be your fault.”

“I won’t cooperate,” Obi-Wan said, stubbornly clinging to his ideals and to consciousness.

“We’ll see.”

Something stabbed into his neck, and, beaten, Obi-Wan slumped into unconsciousness.

tbc

Part Three

#star wars fic #star wars #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #obi wan and qui gon #master and apprentice #this is garbage #long post #why did i write this #huh #fic #angst #star wars au #unwoven series

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 5- Number Five

Summary: You finally found Five, drunk, but you found him. Patch is dead. And now you and Diego are on the hunt for the masked killers with assistance from Klaus.

Masterlist - where all the other chapters are⚔️

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

You burst through your apartment door with a new rage overthrowing your recent grief, Diego’s right on your tail, trying to catch up with you the best he can. Your strides are fast as you march hastily through the small room, heading straight for Five. “You boy scout looking fuck. Do you have any idea what you’ve just caused?” You growl launching yourself at him with fists in the air, without warning Luther catches you before you can really tear into Five. “No! Let me go you fucking monkey boy, get your hands off of me!” You yell at him, as he lifts you up off the ground, “I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down.” Says Luther calmly. You continue to struggle in his strong grasp, seriously contemplating if you’ve lost it enough to bite him before Diego sets a hand on your tense shoulder. Further stopping you before you can find a way to break free by injuring Luther, “Y/N, please.”

You make a lowly animistic sound, like that of a beaten circus tiger, as you stop struggling, “Fine.” Luther then sets you down.

“Now, wanna tell us what you’re talkin’ about?”

You glare at Five, still upset from finding Eudora dead in that motel room. You were gonna have lunch with her on Friday and then explain why Diego’s been so persistent about the shootings. You hadn’t had a chance to talk with her yet. And now you never will.

“Your brother’s been pretty busy since he got back. He was in the middle of that shootout at Giddy’s, and then at Gimble Brothers, after those masked psychos attacked the Academy, looking for him.” You snap, staring daggers at Five.

He barely moves a muscle, “None of which is any of your concern.” He mutters calmly, way to damn calmly for you.

You scowl at him in annoyance, “It is now you little shit. They just killed my friend.” You vent back, stepping in closer, Diego has to grab your arm from tearing into the tiny 58 year old man in front of you.

“Who are they Five?” Questions Luther, breaking the tense atmosphere.

“And where the hell are they from?” Adds Diego, hand still firmly grasping your arm.

Five gives you all a tired look, “They work for my formal employer at the commission. A woman called the Handler. She sent them...to stop me. Then as soon as Y/N and Diego’s friend got in their way, well, fair game.” Five shrugs, so this is just business is business to him.

“Well they’re my fair game now. And I’ll make sure of it that they pay in blood.” You sneer, turning around and walking briskly towards the door, Diego hot on your tail.

“That would be a mistake Diego, for you to let her go.....They’ve killed people far more dangerous then you think.” Calls Five, you stop by the railing to look back at him.

“I’d like to see them try and kill me then....the next time I see them will be when I drive my dagger into their throats.” You growl with malice, turning away from them to walk out the door.

Luther looks to Diego and then back at Five with a stunned face, “I don’t care what she does. She just better not miss.” Says Five with a sigh, as Diego nods while making towards the open door.

You get into the passenger seat as Diego takes the steering wheel, he turns the car on, turning to look at you, “Are you okay?” He whispers gently. You stare vacantly out the side window, “No. Just drive.” You mumble sadly, you’re trying to be strong but one of your only friends has just been killed violently by two masked psychopaths. It’s a bit difficult if you’re being honest, but you’re too numb with silent fury to cry at the moment.

He nods in understanding, putting the car into drive and taking off.

——

You stand silently in Diego’s doorway at the Umbrella Academy, he pulls out a metal briefcase from under his bed, and opens it up. It’s his old knife case, he then puts his remaining free knifes that are hiding on him in the case. He quickly shuts it and locks it up, leaving it on the floor to stand up and walk over to you. “Do you have anything you need to get before we head out?” He says while holding the sides of your arms. You look up at him, “I am all that I need.” You whisper valiantly, meaning absolutely every word, underlying so much more behind that small sentence.

Your mind flashes back to your younger days when you were fighting alongside with the Umbrella Academy, you had wanted so badly to prove that you belonged among them. Your mindset solely focused on accomplishing the mission successfully, hoping that Reginald would be satisfied with your hard work. Through your attempts, you may have went a little overboard, losing control at times, lashing out furiously on the enemy. You turned into something incredibly dangerous, but at the time all you saw was a warrior, a hero, a vital piece of the Umbrella Academy that could not be held back. You were so lost in your own success and the satisfaction of Sir Reginald that you didn’t notice when the Umbrella Academy was starting to become afraid of you. It was the most lonely and darkest couple weeks of your life that you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t fully understand why they wouldn’t want to play with you. It started on a mission, you’d just discovered that whenever you were completely in full rage mode, your eyes would turn the color of molten lava, a deep orange, perhaps your body’s way of showing off the raging fire within you, or so you’d tell yourself. Quite opposite of your original eye color. You’d never realized it before until Allison pointed it out after an intense mission once. To keep a long story short, you killed a bunch of terrorists who were about to kill your friends. You tore into them wildly, your eyes practically glowing embers. You were breathing heavily and covered in other people’s blood by the time you were done. For a week they wouldn’t even look at you, it took longer for Ben to come around. And you absolutely hated yourself for it. Of course Reginald was ecstatic, mentioning your achievement at dinner one night, of how you unlocked a hidden power within yourself and that the others should strive to do the same. The rest of them fumed in jealousy, deciding to ignore you for awhile as payback, since they couldn’t hurt you physically. And they were to scared about what you could have done back at them. You felt like a caged lioness, a powerful and deadly creature, being taunted and stared at from afar by snotty children who are safe and content behind the thick glass.

But life goes on, and you’ve sacrificed yourself for them a couple hundred times since then, more then they’ll ever be able to repay. With time they began to understand you better, and amazingly to your great surprise Diego, out of all people, had a ginormous crush on you. Which led to even more wonderful things you’re scared little 13 year old self could never have even dreamed of. You got older, stopping caring about Reginald’s approval, and moved on with your life. Things got much better after that.

Your wandering mind comes back to reality when Diego kisses your forehead, he understands your somber silence, choosing to comfort you in the best way he possibly can. He releases you, turning to pick up his silver briefcase as you take a step out the door. Waiting a brief moment for your vigilante lover to catch up with you.

As you walk down the stairs and across the messy carpet past the damaged fallen chandelier. You notice Klaus who’s standing by the broken crushed table, he looks a bit lost and out of it. Oddly enough it’s not from any alcohol consumption or other substances. At least that you can smell, he’s clean.

“What happened here?” Klaus asks curiously, you look over to him with a casual shrug.

“Long story.” You add, not really wanting to get into details right now.

“You look like shit.” Diego tells him dryly.

“Why, thank you. Hey, where are you two going?” Wonders Klaus, watching the two of you head for the door. “Nope.” Snaps Diego quickly, Klaus’ face falls at his denied request.

“I’m not giving you a ride.” Grumbles Diego, who’s stopped walking to look at Klaus.

“Oh, come on, man. You know I can’t drive.” He whines, moving in closer to Diego. You stand with your arms crossed by the fallen chandelier, patiently watching the brotherly interaction between the two of them, who’re directly in front of you.

Diego shakes his head, “I don’t c..” You suddenly cut him off, “Go get your shit. We’ll be in the car.” Klaus’ face breaks out into a grateful smile, he laughs lightly before patting Diego on the chest, turning to get his things. “Okay, great. I’ll just get my things. Two minutes.” He says happily, rushing past you with a grin to get whatever it is that Klaus needs.

Diego turns around to give you a what-the-hell kinda look, you casually shrug, “He said two minutes.....and he looks like he could use some friendly interaction.” Diego just sighs, nodding in agreement, “Yeah alright...but only because you’ll be with me.” He replies, before turning towards the door.

You smack his bum as you scoot past him, “It’ll be fun, just like old times.” You quip while Diego shakes his head in amusement, following you out the door.

——

You’re comfortably sprawled out in the backseat, feeling the dull roll of the car moving speedily down the road, while you listen to the hum of the engine. Diego drives, as Klaus drinks from a wine bottle, looking dismally out the window. “You okay?” Diego says after a quiet couple minutes, not getting anything from Klaus, who takes another swig. “Wow. This is a first. My brother Klaus is silent. How bout’ that Y/N.” Diego glances at Klaus again, “Last time you were this quiet, we were 12. Ran down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels, tripped over, and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut again?” He wonders.

“Eight weeks.” Whispers Klaus tiredly, still staring out the window.

“Eight glorious weeks of bliss.” Smiles Diego, you sit up sticking your head between the two of them. “And I missed out on it all, damn.” You mutter, trying to mentally visualize the whole scenario. Klaus suddenly lifts his head up, “Hey, just....just drop me off here.” Diego nods, you look across the street at the building in mind, Lakeshore VFW, but that’s where the veterans go? None of you have ever been in the army, at least that you know of.

Diego pulls into the small parking lot, Klaus jumping out as soon as he stops, now you’re very confused. “You sure you’re all good, Klaus?” You call after him, he ignores you as he nervously walks up to the door, opening it and walking inside. You look over to Diego who’s equally as puzzled, he turns around about to start the car again. When you instantly reach your hand out to touch his shoulder, “Wait, I’m gonna go in and see what’s up with Klaus.” Diego stops, turning his neck to look at you, “I guess I better go in too. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself Y/N...I mean Klaus probably needs me an...”

“Diego.” You deadpan, shutting him up instantly. He takes the keys out of the ignition, as you open up your door, Diego doing the same. The two of you then start walking towards the entrance, clueless as to why Klaus would have wanted to stop here.

You walk in, finding him moping around some old WWll photographs, you sigh, beginning to walk over to Klaus, Diego right behind you. Throwing a hand on Klaus’ shoulder you unintentionally startle him, “Just go away, please.” He asks you, while rubbing his eyes. You let go of his shoulder, half-sitting yourself against the pool table, Diego steps up next to him, “Not until you talk to us.”

“Is that a threat? You threatening me?” He mutters, annoyed that you two won’t leave him alone. Suddenly a random guy to your left walks up to the three of you, “Guys. This bar? It’s for vets only.” He states, urging you all to leave.

“I am a vet.” Says Klaus, by the way he announces it, you can sense he’s not lying. But how would he have been a vet. Something wrong definitely happened in that whole day he was missing.

The veteran chuckles, not believing him in the slightest, “Really? Where’d you serve?” He says amused, glancing back at his friends. “None of your business.” Snaps Klaus defensively. The grumpy vet starts to lose his humor, and apparently his temper too. His face falling, “You got balls comin’ in here, pretendin’ you’re one of us.” You glance at Diego, who gives you a what-is-even-happening, look. Klaus turns around, “Oh, I have every right to be here, just like you. Asshole.” He says growling the last word. Shit. The large and pissed off vet takes a step closer, you step in front of Klaus, raising your hands up to stop him, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy now, soldier. All right? My friend here has had one too many.” You look to his friends beginning to gather around behind him, then back to him, “Let’s just call it a day, all go our own way. No harm done.” You tell him, doing your best to reason with him and get out of here without a brawl. “Sure thing.” He says bluntly, but you’re unconvinced. “Thank you.” You answer anyway, trying to move things along, you turn to Klaus and Diego, “Let’s go..” “As long as you apologize.” Interrupts the vet, Klaus looks back at the photographs giggling to himself. You give Diego a defeated look, as you turn around to face the vet again. “Fine. I’m sorry. He’s sorry. We’re all sorry. So...are we good?” You tell him, restraining a sour tone the best you can physically muster. He looks at you, pointing to Klaus, “I wanna hear him say it.”

“Hey, man. I’m just trying to..” “No, no. He’s right Y/N. He‘s right. He’s right.” Interrupts Klaus, turning around to face the angry vet and his buddies. “I’d like to apologize...that you...are depriving some village of their idiot!” Growls Klaus, this not sitting very well with the vet. He swings at Klaus but misses when Klaus swiftly ducks, standing up again to head butt the guy. The guy staggers back, his buddy throwing a fist up to catch Klaus across the head. But before he has a chance Diego rushes in, deflecting the punch and kneeing the guy in the stomach. “Seriously.” You groan at all of them. Klaus running past you to jump on the back of another random guy who’s ready to fight.

You roll your eyes, men. Deciding enough is enough you spring into action, it only takes you about 10 seconds before they’re all groaning in pain on the ground, dazed as to how you just took them all out so fast. You stand near the exit, adjusting your jacket. “Let’s go. Right fucking now.” You snarl at Diego and Klaus, who instantly get up off the floor, making a beeline for the door.

——

You’re sitting in the backseat of Diego’s car, him at the steering wheel and Klaus in the passenger seat. Your little trio parked across the street from Giddy’s Donuts. “You got a big mouth, you know that?” States Diego, referring to Klaus’ jabs at that old grumpy vet. “Oh, wow. What a truly shocking revelation, Diego.” Mumbles Klaus unamused, as he goes to open up a bag of pills. “Everything’s a big joke to you, right? Would you stop it?” Diego yells, grabbing the pill bag out of Klaus’ hands. “Why are you putting this shit in your body?” Interrogates Diego, not being able to understand why his brother always does this over and over again.

Klaus blows a raspberry into the air, in frustrated defeat. “Check this out Hmm?” Says Diego as he lifts up his black sweater, where he then pats his toned stomach. “My body is a temple. All that shit you do, it’s just weakness.”He states. You lean up closer in between the two of them.

“That’s so inspirational.” You add sarcastically, earning a small snort form Klaus.

“Well weakness feels so good.” Klaus then reaches his hand up to take a pill, Diego reacting fast as he smacks it out of his hand.

“What’s going on with you? Huh?”

“Don’t hit me asshole!” Yells Klaus, you just sit back and watch the show, Diego leaning in closer as he jabs a finger at him, “Don’t tell me everything is all right, because I saw you in there. You were crying like a baby!” Explains Diego loudly, you covering your ears a bit at his explosion. “Because I lost someone.” Barks Klaus, who looks down at his hands, sighing sadly, “I lost someone. The only...The only person I ever truly loved more then myself.” You sit up again, looking between the two of them. Diego looks out the front window with a puzzled look on his face, not expecting that answer. Klaus just gives you a sad smile, “Cheers.” He says, popping a colorful pill in his mouth.

“Well you’re luckier then most. At least you can still see them...when they....yeah.” You whisper quietly, thinking about your parents and Patch. You lean back into the backseat, turning your head left to look out the window. Diego turns his neck to look at you, about to say something before he catches sight of Hazel through the back window, who’s breaking into a car. “That’s our guy.” You sit up, turning around to see for yourself, “Huh. No shit.”

“Hey, I know that guy.” Adds Klaus, watching Hazel through the side mirror. “How could you possibly know that...” Begins Diego.

“He and a really angry lady tortured me. I barely got out with my life.” Explains Klaus, revealing a heavy part that you missed. You furrow your brows frowning, “Cha-Cha.” You mutter quietly to yourself. These psychos are dead. Diego abruptly starts the engine, pulling out to follow Hazel to wherever he’s going next. And so the hunt begins.

——

The three of you sit in the car, outside of the crappy motel that Hazel unknowingly lead you to. Klaus is sipping on his bottle of wine, while Diego scans the area, you watching the motel windows closely. You suddenly spot movement coming from the blinds of one on the upper floor, on closer inspection it’s a woman, looking incredibly familiar, that must be Cha-Cha. “Bingo.”

Diego looks up, catching a flash of her hand, as the curtains conceal the rest of her. You get out of the car and wait for Diego as he takes out a knife, Klaus just looking at you two bored, “You know killing these people is not gonna make you feel any better, Y/N.” Adds Klaus. You stop for a second to think about why you’re doing this. Diego’s here to avenge a friend, but you’ve kinda been leading the charge this whole time. After all, you were closer friends with Patch then Diego was, and you also know that these fuckers have murdered countless other innocents. They must die, and you’re the best person to do it.

You lean down by the window to look at Klaus, “They killed my friend and countless other innocent people, kill one save a thousand.” You growl, standing back up at the sound of a door opening. You look up, watching as Hazel walks out the door and down the hallway, out of sight. You quickly follow, leaving Diego and Klaus to argue about something from behind you.

Turning a corner, you silently walk up the metal steps to the second floor, Diego practically materializing behind you, daggers out and ready to fight. You both reach the top, but before any of you have time to move Klaus walks up, “So, what exactly is the plan here, you two lovers in crime...fighting?” Muses Klaus, making it to the top steps. “I told you to wait in the car.” Grumbles Diego who gives you a look, “Yeah, but you also told me that licking a nine-volt battery would give me pubes.” You raise an eyebrow at Diego, “We were eight.” Klaus just looks up at Diego giving a shrug as he takes a couple steps. Diego grabs is arm, stopping him quickly as he pulls him down the steps, you’re watching this half annoyed and half holding in laughter. Diego then races back up the stairs, giving you a confident nod as he turns towards the blue motel door. Giving it a hard kick, the door swings open, revealing nothing on the inside but a tv blaring loudly with some western cowboy movie on. “Very subtle.” You quip, slightly irked at how less then clever his surprise ambush was. You turn to the right, looking down at the parking lot as you unexpectedly hear the scratching of tires on pavement. What the hell?

You move towards the railing as a blue car comes speeding into view, with Hazel and Cha-Cha in their familiar get up of Halloween masks and guns. That are now shooting deadly bullets at you and Diego, oh shit Diego. Without warning a bullet rips into your right upper shoulder where your arm and torso meet. A second slicing just below your bellybutton. Diego grabs at you, hauling you backwards as another bullets clips him in the forearm. To your great surprise, Klaus pulls the both of you back even further, evidently helping the two of you avoid getting shot again.

“Oh, man. See? Used to think I was an idiot?” Sasses Klaus at a panting Diego.

“I still think you’re an idiot.” He claps back, holding onto his left arm, where the bullet went through.

You on the other hand are leaning against the staircase railing, sucking in pained breaths as you slowly feel the bullets getting pushes out of you. The flesh beginning to fuse back together once again, Diego and Klaus finally look over to you. “Y/N, you alright?” Wonders Klaus. You glare up at him still grimacing in pain, “No.” You wheeze, shutting your eyes tight, as both bullets are being forced out of you by the rapid healing process, ultimately at long last they drop to the floor, making a ringing sound as they hit the metal staircase. You stand up straight once again, your eyes going wide in realization, “They’re getting away!” You blurt out, racing down the steps, Diego and Klaus hot on your heels. When the three of you make it back to Diego’s car, you notice how the front tire is completely flat. You all groan in frustration, now what? “Was this all part of your master plan?” Doubts Klaus, miffed that no one has a ride now. “Shut up.” Snaps Diego, looking around for something that could assist in the matter.

You look up to the sky, putting your hands on your hips, “Fucking fuck.” You whine loudly to the sky or birds or whoever would listen, snapping your head back down, your eyes land on the large ice cream truck. Parked ever so sweetly and conveniently in front of you. With a new idea fresh in your mind you walk past Diego and Klaus, stopping in front of the white and cutely designed truck. “I found our ride.”

They turn to look at you, Klaus smiling in excitement as Diego’s face falls. “I’ll drive.” Blurts out an ecstatic Klaus.

——

Sticking your head out the window you catch the scent of Hazel and Cha-Cha, they smell of gun powder, fast food, and death. So it wasn’t exactly that difficult to get on their trail. Gosh I’m just like a frickin bloodhound, you think. You sit on the right side while Klaus drives, Diego slumped in the middle seat, putting pressure on his wound. Why you let Klaus drive? You’re pretty sure you have some bullet fragments still stuck in your shoulder, no you definitely do. Why else would it still feel sore, damn you’re gonna have to take those out later.

Now that you look at your surroundings, there’s nothing but trees and farm fields. Plus Luther and Five, standing next to a parked car on the road, while Hazel and Cha-Cha point guns at you from further down the road. Shit. You hold on tight as Klaus manically laughs while plowing into the two assassins. Everything happens so fast and the next second you’re jostled again when the ice cream truck rams right into their getaway car. You smack your head off the window, cracking the glass, as Diego gets shoved into the dashboard. “Fuck.” You seethe through clenched teeth, bringing your hand up to touch the spot on your head. No blood is felt to your great relief and now the pain is gone, unlike Diego who’s clutching his injured arm in pain.

You hear Klaus yelling for you two to get out, not wanting to wait for Diego’s slow ass to make it out of the truck. You kick your door open, breaking the lock in the process, oh well. Not dwelling on the matter, you book it to the other side where Luther and Klaus are holding up Diego as they start running for Luther’s car, without a second thought you follow them, not caring enough to bother with either Hazel or Cha-Cha. You’ll get your chance, the safety of your family is way more important at the moment.

You run around to the passenger side of Luther’s car, Klaus and Diego taking the back, as Luther gets into the drivers seat, hitting the gas and flooring it.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves x reader #falcor the luck dragon stories #what a time to be alive fic #tua #tua season one

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