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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

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The Asylum

Synopsis: The U.A was a known Asylum. Known of being the current house for the most dangerous persons with the most tragocs backstorys and trauma. An universe where quirls dont exist, but heroes take the places of doctors, students are trainers and of course; villains are the pacients.

I am planning to do for all the boys I write and Shigaraki version of it (surprise shiggy stans!) Let me know if you would be interested.

Kai Chisaki:

You are currently a new doctor that the Asylum recide to take under their wing. Obviously not to good intentions. Since there is a pacient no one seems to even dare to croos his dorm room... so will you be able to tame the beast?

The limo you were in along with Nezu and the famous doctor Toshinori Yagi along with his aprendice Izuku Midoriya was sorta of glamorous... too much to your own point of view. But how could you point that out? Espevially to the ones whose kindly offered a job as soon as you got your graduation.

You were viewed as the "too kind and sensitive" to be a doctor or a psychologist, yet you still remained your ground and got your degree! And was now facing the kind hearted doctor Toshinoru himself! He was the most respected and talented doctora of all Japan, who just couldn't admire him?

The car came to an stop and Nezu gaze a hearted chickle after finsihing his cup of tea, which didn't even dropped a drop of the drink, before smilling at you as Toshinori and Midoriya helped you out.

"You two are too kind!" You spoke as the boy blushed crinsom red and laughed nervously as Nezu caught your attention.

"(L/n)-san, uou must know that despite us having the best of security measures, evil persons live on here and they can and some even will hurt you. Poor Midoriya-kun had to deal with a teenage girl around his age last week and almost got stabbed."

You widened your eyes as you saw by thhe corner of your eye the poor boy shivering at the memory as Yagi patted him by the head with a nervous chuckle.

You followed Nezu when he entered the building and found the place surprisingly intact even if hearing some shouts, psyotic laughter here and there..

"Im so sorry to not introduce the place for you (L/n)-san, but I have not only young Midoriya here but also another "student" to take care of." The man laughed as you smiled up at the man.

"I understand. Having onterns at such a young age must give some work." The blonde chuckled as he waved while Midoriya wished you a good first day at work before Nezu called you to stand beside him on a elevator and pressing the button to go down.

The number of the monitor, indicating the floors, were lowering as you arched an eyebrows until you jumped at hearing nezu giggling.

"We have floors that indicate which state our pacients mental health is... the lower the floor, the more these expecific pacients of oura need desperately for help."

"I see..." you picked your bag and took out the paste that only had the name and doccuments of your future pacient... Chisaki Kai.

A man around 20 and 25 years old that was a surgeon once, raised by a mafia boss. After being catched of by police for trying to make an unknown and forbided drug he was arrested. His adopted father had gotten ill and eventually put into a coma... in desperate to gain some blood for the elder the only with the compatible blood type of his father was his nephew... it seems that he had almost taken the blood of the girl by force due to desperation after he got out of prison...

Not even succeding on helping the old man, he got send to the Asylum after the acussation of his poor mental state. He got into a physical and heavy fight coincidentally with another pacient of here, and lost both of his arms.

He seemed also to have some sorta of OCD. His mysophobia being so advantege that not even if he comes to contact with dirty places, but even if he felt nervous or angry, hives would appear on his skin... also suffered from PTSD attacks and was paranoid, seing figures of assasinans and monster of four arms after the loss of his father and own members...

This patient is considerated one of the mosy dangerous around here even if missing both arms, now aparently substitute by prosthetics..

NOW you knew why anyone hasn't been very fond of him... the man had beaten up three of his previous doctors and almost send one to heaven.

The sound of your gulp got mixed with the ones of the doors of the elevator opening and Nezu menyioning for you to follow him on the hall.

The entire hall was super and almost shinning clean as you walked through it.

"As you saw on his file. Chisaki has a serious matter with dirt, even going as far as to almost beat our janitor after finding a piece of fry lying on the cafeteria. After that, he reveives his meal only on his room in hopes je doesn't cause such a tragity like before..."

"I see he is pretty... demanding." You muttered as Nezu stopped by a door made of Iron as he searched for a key.

"Surely, not even one of his doctors got the chance to knowing kore than his files, so I wish you to be the lucky one." The man smiled at you before pushing the door.

"... who is it?" The voice came from the darkest part of the room and you saw a hunched over form after squinting your eyes hard enough. The voice was deep and low kinda sexy even

"Chisaki. I have the honor to present you the doctor (L/n) (Y/n)-"

"Ah, another doctor I see." It came as a scratchy sigh, his head lifting up to reveal a man with gorgeous golden dull eyes and brow hair similiar to the woods of a pine, his skin pale amd the prosthetics arms shine the light of the halls back into your eyes.

This was against your own code.... but damn this man was hot.

"Is.. a pleasure to meet-"

"Lets see how much long will you last..." he said with a empty smirk before falling back to his stoic and empty expression, staring at the wall and demanding for you both to get out.

Nezu sighed as he accompanied you to outside and looked at you expectedly.

"... I think I can deal with him. He doesn't sound too bad as his files give away." You smiled at Nezu as he gave a rather relieved sigh and shook your hand in glee.

"Great! Your consulta will hlbe in his room witha bodyguard waiting outside to provide you security as he will be handcuffed for extra care."

You frowned at that as the man handed you the key and accompanied you for an tour around the whole building... Handcuffed? This was a bit extreme...

Wasn't it?

You breathed in and out as the guard was already set on post to watch over. Turning the key to open and quickly close it as instricted by other doctors and collegues.

"Hello." You greeted softly while closing the door as he stared at the table he was handcuffed with "I believe we didn't had a much pleasurable start due to Nezu there..." you seated on ths chair in front of him as he gritted his jaw.

It was silence for a bit as you sighed in sympathy.

"Listen, I have nothing here. Neither to hurt or touch you. I also took at least three showers before coming here to talk with you. I was rather excited to be honest." You smiled at him as he only arched an eyebrow up, still stoic expression.

"Foolish." He gritted through teeth as you tilted your head in confusion "You heard of me getting three people at least to the verge of death... Tell me, how cam you defend yourself from me?" His voice lowered dangerously but you still remained grounded. Surprisingly not even feeling scared.

"You mean also from the... monsters?" You saw how his muscles tightened as his eyes widened at you before narrowing them deep into your soul.

"Dont play like that. I know no one can see them... is just me."

"Well, that is true..." you leaned a bit towards him "But that doesn't mean I cant just try to understand you."

"Is that supposed to make me laugh? I dont need this stupid shit." He hissed while glaring at you.

"I suppose... but when was the last time you talked with someone though?"

It was silent... then he just sighed a bit shakily before starting to scratch the upper part of his arm...

"Get out. Now." You hummed, eviting to giggle at the shocked face he tried to hide at sieng you actually was leaving after he demanded.

"I will be back by tommorow then. Have a nice day Chisaki." You left the room and was inspected by the guard for any form of bruises or injuries and yhey were impressed.

"You're the first one that didn't got injured with that guy over there..."

"I think i just might be getting somewhere with him if I try hard enough."

Slowly but surely you got to talk with Chisaki. He still remained reserved most of the time, but as soon as you brought up the topic of a mess on the first floor was enough to make him complain about the quality of this place.

It wasn't exactly a start... but you did needed to get some sorta of trust of him on you.

One day you were about to enter the room and saw the episode everyone warned you about. His hallucinations.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" you dodged the table he threw with all the force he had near the door as you closed immediatly when you heard the bodyguard calling for others to help put Chisaki on a straightjacket.

"Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he lunched the air and walls as you watched in wary and worry in your eyes as you tried to aproach safetly from behind.

"Chisaki-" you gasped when he almost punched you if it wasn't for your good reflexes "Chisaki listen to me!"

Ee only let out a bloody scream as he tried with all his forces to attack you before he caged you by the wall as you gagged at the metal hand on your throat.

"Chisaki.. im not here to hurt you-!" You tried to push more air into your lungs as he growled.

You tapped his shoulder out of desperation and immediatly gasped for air as he jerked away from your touch, blinking as if he had just woken up as you coughed.

When you opwned your eyes and saw him standing up, looking at you in shock you sighed in relief while getting up.

"H.. How? How did you make him to..?" He whispered while looking around the room in desperation "H-He was just... here-! He was HERE!" He shouted, his anger coming back as you walked towards him.

"Chisaki.." his amber and wrathful eyes looked into yours as you asked softly "What was in here?"

"It was.." he looked at the ground comflicted before grasping his hair with a groan "No no.. cant be... CANT BE! HE ISN'T HERE!"

"Who isn't here? Chisaki?"

"MY IDIOT FATHER!" he shouted "HAPPY NOW DOCTOR?!"

You widened your eyes as he breathed in shakily before dropping on the ground and crossing his arms to support his head.

"But... why would your-"

"Not the one in my files..." he groaned before looking at the wall numbily "My biological shitty one... an abuser. Use that to get a promotoon or whatever brat.. just leave me alone."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at him. Your heart speaking louder than your mind as you gently aproached him and seated next to him, maintaning enough distance to mantain him on a comfortable state.

"... I thought you didn't remember your biological parents." You commented as he linched the bridge of his nose.

"How could you forget someone that made your childhood a living hell?" He breathed out "I dont even know why I am even telling you this..."

"... let me guess.. abusive?" You spoke with sadness as he chuckled darkly.

"Pitying a sociopath and murder now doctor?" He brushed his fangs away "Don't. Is pathetic."

"Abusive." You confirmed as you stared at the wall he was facing at "Instrict father and negletful mother..?"

"... the man was an arrogant bastard... always beating and just taking away any sorta of ways of basic needs.. while my mother was a selfish women whose always called me a failure. A burden. A mistake... my father on one day was about to beat me up for grabbing something to eat..when I grabbed his gun to defend myself and accidentally shot him... the woman called the police on her own 5 years old child can you imagine that?" You stared at him in sadness.

No one knew his backstory. No one knew anything about him when he was under 12 years old. His archive compeltely erased... and there he was.

"The visions you have... is of him?"

"... a more like fusion or something." He groaned whipe scrwching his face "Has his face but has the arms of a beast... and four arms... other times is that Shigaraki that took my arms... others are my mother just trying to stab me or hold me down while she yells for me to... to behave..." he sighed shakily "Is the session over yet?"

You frowned before slowly aproaching him and taking his metal hand on yours as he widened your eyes.

"Is over.. but if you want i can stay here... to make sure those assholes wont be back." You smiled up at him as he stared at you like you grew three heads.

"I... I believe you have other places to be...?"

".. I enjoy having your company." You smiled again "After all, you dont deserve to be left caged alone.. You're still human after all.."

He stared at you before looking at the wall as you giggled a bit at the tips of his ears getting red as he thought over and over again.

Was he... was he really worth of being called a human?

"This new medication here might give some colateral effects, so after taking them i need you to tell me. But asides from that they will releave a but if that itchy feeling of your hives and the other will help a bit with your-"

"Hallucinations" the man completed as he analyzed the bottle only to sigh and open it later "I saw them once in the hospital I worked for."

"Oh I see!" You replied cheerfully at seing an opportunity to talk with him "I know you were an explendid surgeon."

"... kind of. Had almost a heart attack when blood was spilled on my skin now at then. Sicks.." He looked at you snorting before the hint of a smirk started to form only to dissapear as he took the two piles onto his hand.

"Uh.. You need to eat first to take your meds." You warned before he could plop the pills on his mouth... he stared deep into your eyes as he lowered them on a napkin and leaned on his chair while crossing hsi metalic arms.

"Then I guess I wont be taking it. The food of this place is horrible and disgusting. Not as much as my room." You arched an eyebrow at him before furrowing them in worry.

"What? Dont they clean your room? The halls are even shining. And what about the food?"

"Not quite." He sighed "A precary job, and some guards like to come by and dirt the place just to give me a headache... the food is just the same."

You hummed before getting up.

"Well then, I guess I have to grab somethings and demands some changes..."

"Oh, how adorable. You getting my food? Make me laugh some more doctor, Im dying to see it." He spoke on a nonchantly tone as you only poked your tongue out at him before muttering that you would be right back.

To him it seemed like hours you had gotten out and even dared to scold on how slow you must be.

"I brought you what seems to be your favorite! Not the food from the cafeteria, I swear!"

He watched in amusement and accidentaly smiled at seing you there with what was once his favorite food until he flinched at your gasp.

"I see a smile thereeeee!!!!" You pointed at his face repeatedly as he surprisingly gently slapped your hand away while taking the bag.

"You're such a nuisance." He sighed, hating how his mouth drooled.

"I washed the fork."

"But I didn't even-"

"I know you Kai." You giggled before widening your eyes and slapping your hands over your mouth in shock.

His eyes were also wide open as you felt your face heat up.

"Im so sorry! It was so unproffesional this oh my Go-"

"Is..." he interrupted you while looking at the opposite direction of yours "Alright... surprisingly my name doesn't sound... so bad when you speak... doctor."

Your eyes softened a bit as a flustered and quite a happy smile graced over your features that made him blush even more.

"Is impressive!" Toshinori and Nezu exclaimed together as they saw the progress yoh had made with Chisaki only in a matter of months as you giggled. "You're a god send (L/n)-san!"

"Please!" You waved them off in embarrassment.

"No no, none of that young one!" Yagi snorted "We decides to give you a week of vacation after such an amazing progress like that! Starting today!"

"T-Today?!"

"Yeah! Dont worry about your pacient, we will get him a substitute just to make him take the meds."

You didn't had much of a choice since they already send the poor guy over his way.

Two days... two days and you simply wasn't here. Just seing a trembling hand almost throwing the pills at him as he sighed in dissapointment. Two days and he hadn't see the face of his beautiful and pretty doctor of his... he couldn't believe it...but he was so desperately craving them. To hear her voice, to.. even feel his hand brush against hers...

He jerked up when he heard the sound of the door opening, narrowing hus eyes at seing that the doctor whose entered his room, wasn't his doctor.

"U-Uh... I-I'm here to-"

"You're." He standed up from his bed "Not." He walked close to the shivering doctor "my (Y/n)."

Before he knew it, he saw visions of you being handed and taken away by one of these monster as he shouted and beaten up the man, the security guard allerting all of the bodyguards about the pacient 14 leaving his cell and attacking others.

The alarms set off and all securities were called as he toom them down ome by one as he shouted with all the forces of his lungs:

"WHERE IS MY DOCTOR?! GIVE HER BACK!" he shouted as he took each one of them down and even managing to stab one of the doctors and one of the security guards witha freacking pen that was in the pocket of one of the pacients that was nearby.

“GET THE SEDATIVE AND THE STRAIGHTJACKET! QUICK BEFORE HE-” the poor guard had his head locked on Chisaki metal hand as he slammed him into the wall into the point it bleed.

He shouted in pain when he felt the syring on his neck, his body starting to get drownsy as he was threw down on the ground, still trying to fight until the end as he kept calling for you...

“Help me... PLEASE! I WILL BE GOOD! IM SORRY!” He shouted and cried at the same time “WHERE’S MY DOCTOR?! (Y/N)!”

He shouted your name until he had no voice or force t do so as his body gave out....

You ran after scoldng every one that tred to stop you as you searched for the key of Kai’s room.

You had received an emergency call after three weeks of your vacation and to say you were both terrified and worried was a understandement. You needed to see Kai. Just thinking about him prisioned on his room and on a jacket made you feel horrible... you even heard the possibilty of the U>A taking away his prosthetics arms due to “security measures”.

You opened the door and loghten up the lights to see Chisaki laying on his bed. A numb look towards the ceiling as you whimpered his name and went to stand close to him.

“... did you come to kill me..?” you widened your eyes as you thought the urge to tear up as you looked for the key of the straightjacket that Nezu gave it to you after your begging.

“Kai im so so sorry...” You whimpered while freeing him... HIm blinking as if he just notices your presence and moving his arms before sitting up.... looking at his metal fingers move, one by one..

“..Are you another hallucination...?” he flinched at your hand coming in contact with his cheeks ashe looked at you as if he was about to kill you right there.

“No... Kai, feel me.. I’m here. Aren’t the meds helping you anymore:”

He stared at you for a what seemed like a decade before he brushed his fingers on your cheek before choosing to bring you close on what seemed like a hug, since he coulnd’t feel with his prosthetics...

A shaky sigh leaved him as he clinged onto you.

“I... You weren’t taken away... I dont feel sick with your touch...” you hugged him back with a shaky inhale before breathing out.

“I wont be taken away... Im your doctor after all...” you buried your face on the crook of his neck and inhaled his clean scent. getting drunk by him.

You didn’t know when your lips came in contact, but they did... and you didn’t even cared about your carrer anymore, you only carried about him... you knew this man could and would get better. You just could feel it.

“You want to know something?” he whispered after the kiss as you hummed “You sound more like an angell to me. My angel.”

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains x reader #kai chisaki #overhaul #bnha au asylum #pacient number 14 Chisaki Kai #bnha writings #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #bnha villains #zuffer writings

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lettrespromises · 4 years

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> LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

> Letter object : The tamer of the flamboyant flames of passion.

> Todoroki Shouto sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

@mangosnakesandpeaches sent a letter : ❝heyo! its aydudenoway, just moved to my writing account! request number 1/3 : okay okay, so ya know how people always tend to write like, dom shouto and sub reader? what about dom reader and sub shouto. like, damn as much as i like dom shouto, kinda want to see some dom reader nglll. could this be a drabble/imagine and not too too graphic NSFW? i hope this is okay! ahhh okay okay so idk if you started writing my request (dom reader) or not, but could i add onto it real quick? breathless Shouto is all im saying. im so sorryyy for this being so sudden! if you can't add it, thats okay!❞

author’s letter : ❝dear @mangosnakesandpeaches, thank you once more for trusting me with your ideas and letting me express through words the love i have for this man and this man only!! hot take but i do kind of feel you.... like.... shouto is low-key a sub to me (aside from pegging ofc.) anywhoopsies!!! i hope you’ll like this and i tried not to make it nsfw which was a bit confusing but?? nonetheless, i hope you’ll enjoy this promised letter.❞

Genre : Erotic but not explicit smut, fluff. (Please consider that the characters are aged up.) Warnings : Cursing, foreplay, innuendos, sexual deeds. Word count : 1.6K.

After personally handing crushing losses to many villains throughout the entire week, admiring the hint of a shy smile adorning the face of civilians torn by fear as a gleam of hope while they’re being saved, secretly glancing at the newfound scars worn as medals on the abused flesh of your skin when no one is looking, any hero would be mentally and physically drained, as if your body was just the host of vacuity. And rightfully so.

Thus came the ever so needed tradition of self-care with Shouto, this renaissance of an evening was held every Friday night ever since you both graduated from U.A. No word was needed, the sole acknowledged information of today’s date was enough for the both of you to understand that today had your name as a synonymous of self-care written all over it.

This context explains why you found yourself enveloped in Shouto’s embrace, a physical testimony of just how much he loved and cherished your presence, if you will. These oh so special Friday nights also drew a contrast with your everyday life as heroes, it was also the perfect opportunity to say (or paradoxically declare in a silent manner) just how much your presence was needed to one another as the cons of being a pro-hero weighed on your mind like the sword of Damocles. To put it more harshly, the inevitable curse of never knowing if the day you were bound to spend together would be the last represented said cons.

His arms found shelter on the area above your hipbones, and every time he would let his genetically given large palms roam on this area, he would always wonder if said area had been carved to fit perfectly the form of his hands— Shouto liked to think that perhaps this was yet another sign that you were meant to be, he always tried to find poetic parallels everywhere.

His thumbs were brushing invisible shapes on the flesh of your hips left bare by the intervention of Shouto’s hands, these brushes were anything but calculated, yes, they did respect a certain common pattern— but each time they felt similar, they always felt new at once. The semi-random nature of his gestures were the living proof that the documentary being played on the TV was semi-interesting as well.

You, on the other one hand, were sheltered in Shouto’s warm and welcoming embrace, your head fit right in the crook of his neck, and as per usual, Todoroki found yet again another poetic parallel drawn by your jointed souls. Nonetheless, if Shouto’s stare was focused on the succession of bright lights radiating off of the TV, yours was laying on the personification of your source of happiness— your boyfriend himself. After all, wasn’t staring at him way more interesting than some documentary being played? Nothing could compare to some well-deserved ‘staring at Shouto session’, but said sessions came with the slight danger of being caught, oh well…

« Love, I believe you’re doing it again. » Shouto blurted out which made you unconsciously flinch in response.

« Doing what exactly, mhm? » Oh, the fake tone of innocence could have been heard from miles away, and it sure as hell didn’t go unknown under Shouto’s radar.

« You know what I’m hinting at— staring. » But this time, it was his turn to stare at you, it was a mutual game now.

« You’re saying that as if staring at you was illegal, I mean, looking this hot should totally be considered illegal. » Shouto’s blood rushed under your newly left comment, causing his cheeks to adopt a rosy tone.

« Y/N, I’m a pro-hero, I’m not quite sure I can be considered as a villain… Is looking a certain way truly illegal? Should I change something about my appearance? » His heterochromatic eyes found yours, and a certain desire for reassurance chimed in the way.

« Shouto, baby— of course not! You’re perfect the way you are, I was only messing around, you know? » His desire for reassurance fades away and instead, you are met with a gleam of content as you continue :

« What I meant to say was… You’re so handsome, so out of this world… » Each word leaving your lips and connecting to his eardrums was accompanied with the fitting gestures to emphasize just a bit more the comforting undertone of your speech. It all began with a swift shift of position— you were now sitting on Shouto’s lap, a crucial position which guaranteed you the upper hand of physical exchanges.

« You’re divine, Shouto… » The longer your eyes met his, the more you were secretly convinced that he was indeed out of this world, thus, you underlined this statement by tracing an invisible line from the corner of his lips to his jawline under his intrigued facial expression. An intrigued expression, perhaps, but he was begging to hear more.

« You’re have all the qualities one could dream of, don’t you? » This rhetorical question was signed with the manifestation of the presence of your lips upon the flesh of his neck, Shouto let out a gasp he ignored he was holding and tilted his head to give you more room to play with as an answer, longing for the next lines of your tirade. Instead, the soft pressures left by the pecks were replaced with biting motions, and interchanged with sucking motions at times. This newfound balance of pleasure on Shouto’s newly bruised skin was the cause of a chain reaction— first, his lips parted as if he was gasping for oxygen, he didn’t need it, it was more like a precautious deed than a clear remedy to something he needed; then, his lids closed shut, in anticipation of the bliss which was bound to course every inch of his body; eventually, a deadly sin named gluttony got the best of him and encouraged him to let his palms wander on your derrière. A bold action quickly reprimanded by a quick slapping motions on the back of his hands.

« No touching, got it? Keep your hands to yourself and maybe, just maybe I’ll reward you. » A sentence so embedded with delicious sin which became amplified under the spell of your whispers, right against the shell of his ears. There was no vocal response on his end, only a line of chills from the back of his neck to the bottom of his spine, sure, it wasn’t vocal, but it was such a sweet way to respond to the temptation.

This comment would be stating the obvious but you had the monopoly of the game, you controlled the fate of the protagonists and bent the rules your way— some would call it cheating, you’d call it having the world at your feet. An adventurous hand traveled underneath the fabric of Shouto’s shirt and, on its journey, felt the various kinds of reliefs sculpted on his body. The rock hard sensation of his abdomen against the soft flesh of your palm was one of the sweetest contrasts. Your hand followed a vertical path— first, a journey near his pectoral muscles, and a tragic fall to his growing bulge right beneath you, you couldn’t help but bow your lips into a grin which echoed to a thousand of hidden desires and beyond while Todoroki looked at you with pleading eyes.

« Aren’t you such a good boy to me? You did as I said, baby, keep going for me, yeah? » Shouto knew that the way you would pronounce each individual word was a hint to what was bound to happen, and the precise manner you moaned « good boy » near his eardrum was just a mere indicator amongst a myriad of them that you would not give up on your iron hold any time soon. Your lips eventually met his once more in a heated exchange, the advantage of the height played in your favor to assert dominance and set the done of the secret ballet between your tongues. Meanwhile, your palm was dangerously stroking the oh so growing bulge in Shouto’s underwear— and when your tongue would twist in a clockwise direction, your hand would do the opposite and vice-versa.

Shouto could feel you through all his senses— and although his lids were shut closed, this couldn’t prevent him from picturing your frame towering over him, he would always remember everything about you, even the most trivial details anyway. The gluttony in him cursed at him and screamed to touch you, but he knew better than to fall under the spell of his temptations. If he couldn’t manifest his pleasure physically, he could still do it orally— and thus a silent melody resonated in your mouth at the contact of your tongue with his. Said melody ended in the crescendo of the volume of his uneven breaths after breaking your kiss due to the lack of oxygen.

His cheeks were crimson red, his mouth was set agape to let fresh air fill his lungs again, his eyes echoed nothing but an irresistible paradox of pleading and will to continue further, his head felt dizzy under your sweet toxins which had just penetrated his mind… He was so addicted to you.

You let a smirk grow on your face in response to the aftermath of your antics, knowing very well that this was just a way to foreshadow what was bound to happen : « You’ve been so good to me, pretty boy, so, so good. Guess who’s going to have his reward now, baby? »

He knew he was going to get his reward, but at what cost?

#shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shouto todoroki #todoroki

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chikkou · 3 years

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Will you talk more about Lisa?? Lisa the character specifically but also your feelings on his feelings about Buddy? I just thought your analysis was so good and I want to hear other thoughts you have on her.

yall are honestly spoiling me rn sdhkfdjfks this is like a dream come true

i already got into the stuff with buddy in this ask here but i have a LOT to say about lisa and the connection between her and buddy so u better settle in!

ok so firstly ill start with lisa. i played the original lisa game (lisa the first) not long after it first dropped in 2012, and im not even kidding when i said it changed me LMAO.... seeing a story about a girl suffering is nothing new, but austin jorgensens approach to it was so fucking unique. you dont just witness it, you get to EXPERIENCE it right along with her. many stories that involve sexual abuse/rape show or otherwise depict it explicitly for the shock value, which is both disgusting and, in my opinion, extremely fucking exploitative. i feel that it is horrific to dignify an act so deeply evil with screentime. but lisa stood out to me immediately because, even though you know exactly whats going on, the game NEVER shows anything explicit. everything is layered in subtext and symbolism, and austin is fantastic with indirect storytelling, so you learn so much from just a little drop of information. this applies not just to the game proper, but to the character as well.

in case its not clear: i absolutely ADORE lisa. she is my favorite character in all of the games, bar none. its going to sound kind of fucked up, but as a kid around her age going through some fucked up shit, her committing suicide at the end felt like a sort of victory to me. she knew she could never escape from marty or what he was doing to her. he leaks into every single part of her psyche, everything she ever cared about or loved is ruined because of him, and even the vague memory of her mother is completely corrupted, and turned into a muddled version of him. lisa the first also had the added benefit of some religious commentary, as there are crosses all over their home and marty is characterized as an extremely religious man, which i fucking LOVE and wish had come back in the painful, but its an acceptable loss. anyway, lisa committing suicide at the end was an act of defiance against not just marty, but martys god, as suicide is considered a mortal sin in catholicism. lisa knew she’d never be free of marty in life, so she escaped the only way she could; she was defiant to the end.

ive seen people complain that the painful has a bit of a “lost lenore” thing going on, since lisas death seems to fuel the Manpain of both brad and buzzo, but i actually disagree. on the contrary, its just like austin himself said - lisa will never be gone. lisa is ALWAYS there, with brad, and buzzo, and buddy, and marty, and yado, and the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. i dont necessarily think that there is something paranormal going on in the game, but i AM going to say that, unlike other cases of a girl/woman dying for a mans backstory, lisa isnt just a bittersweet memory they can reflect on and then put away when its convenient for them. she is a presence that is felt throughout the entire game. brad sees her more than once, sometimes watching, sometimes reprimanding him. buzzo is clearly haunted by her, as he cries out to her a few times in the joyful. every character who was directly touched by lisa - brad, marty, and buzzo - calls out to lisa as they die. call it their guilt or call it her actions, but in either case, it is clear that lisa just as significant of a character in the painful as she was in the first, even if she cant always be seen. even in a meta-sense, every game in the series - even the joyful, whose protagonist doesnt even know who she is - is named after her. she is at the center of everything that happens in them.

that actually brings me to buddy, because i find the dynamic between her and lisa fucking fascinating. as i previously mentioned, brad never talked about his past with buddy, and snaps at her for bringing up his adoptive son dusty (rando), so it goes without saying that she definitely doesnt know who lisa is. in spite of that, though, lisa is a fucking massive part of buddys life, and while she may not know the person herself, i think she is aware that when people (and brad especially) look at her, they arent seeing HER.

i mentioned it in another post, but even though brad takes it upon himself to raise and “protect” buddy, he seems to almost unwittingly recreate lisas appearance, primarily by allowing her hair to grow long even though he knows what a risk that is to her safety. he also treats buddy in a manner thats incredibly similar to how marty treated lisa (sans sexual abuse, of course) - he insults her, does not let her leave the house at all, and forces her to do unsavory things that no one should ever have to do (in buddys case, this means killing at least two innocent people because brad doesnt want a “weak” daughter). the most literal comparison between buddy and lisa is the fact that they are both very young girls being essentially held captive by their father figures, albeit for different reasons, and both long for freedom from their captors.

theres also the fact that both buddy and lisa have to deal with misogyny and the effects of rape culture firsthand; they both battle against men who feel entitled to do with them whatever they please, and the threat of ongoing sexual abuse looms heavy over both of their heads. neither one can seek help from anyone; the neighbors in brad and lisas town seem complacent at best, if they even know what is happening to lisa at all, and buddys only allies (sans rando) are long dead by the start of the joyful. this is not just a hypothetical or a distant possibility. this is the real, tangible fate that will befall them if they cant somehow secure their safety.

sadly, because lisa wasnt playable in either of the rpgs, we dont know if she was able to fight as brad was, but it is highly probable that she had the innate skill but was never able to learn it (as marty highly discouraged them from learning “their grandfathers karate,” and seemed disgusted whenever brad did so). however, she did have ONE weapon she could make use of, and this is a weapon buddy ends up using, as well - her femininity. she became close to bernard (aka buzzo), made him fall in love with her, and then used him as a last ditch effort to stop martys abuse by having him mutilate her face. im not saying lisa never cared about bernard - in fact, i think she DID really love and care for him - but her own fucked up experiences with “love” meant she really couldnt understand what it was supposed to be like, or that it was wrong to manipulate the people you care about. lisa did very few things wrong - it pretty much just stops at the maiming of the cat and her manipulation of bernard - but she knew that she would never get away from marty without some kind of drastic action being taken, and scarring herself was her last ditch effort before ultimately committing suicide.

buddy ends up taking a somewhat similar tack in the joyful, and like in lisas case, its simultaneously resourceful and horrific. one of buddys key moves in the joyful is to flash the enemy (which the player obviously doesnt see) in order to distract them long enough to get the kill. its fucking horrible and disgusting and makes you feel so dirty, but then, how must buddy feel having to do something like that just to survive? shes just a child, but in a world where almost every man is out to get you, she knows this has to be done to save herself, very much like lisa. unlike in lisas case, though, buddy is successful in securing her safety in this way - lisas effort is for naught, and leads to her committing suicide not very long after.

in a way, i sort of attribute buddys brutality to lisas omnipresence; all of the men pursuing buddy are just like marty, monsters who would harm a fucking child for their own disgusting ends, and i think that when buzzo said that lisa wouldve loved olathe, what he means is that she would have loved seeing so many horrible men being punished for what theyd done. so in my opinion, buddy carving out a place for herself in olathe by killing all those who would subjugate her seems very much in the mentality lisa would have had. sure, there are some innocents who sadly get roped into it, but that would definitely not be her intention; for example, if buzzo could have practiced amputation without harming a living thing, i dont think lisa would have asked him to practice on the cat. note the LACK of brutality at the beehive and the swamp bar, two of the few peaceful places in the painful and both devoid of predatory men hunting for buddy - lisa has no qualm with any of them. but marty? brad could hardly even get a full sentence out before killing him on the spot. i dont doubt that that has a great deal to do with lisas presence.

ok i talked for a while LMAO but basically i think that, in a more metatextual sense, lisa and buddys relationship really strikes me as an accurate depiction of generational trauma. of course it was intentional with the more obvious trauma chain (marty to brad to buddy), but the trauma chain of marty to lisa to buddy is rarely ever addressed due to lisa not physically appearing in the painful. however, i believe it may inform buddys actions a great deal more than people realize - after all, buddys experience is unique, but who could understand it better than lisa? who knows that sort of pain, of being alone on an island, the lone woman trapped with a man (or men) who want nothing more than to cause you harm? even without her realizing it, lisa is guiding buddy, encouraging her to take back what is hers no matter the cost, to punish those who would try to take what they want from her. lisa might be dead, but she is a vengeful presence throughout every game, and buddys actions feel like theyre meant not only to save herself, but to avenge lisa, even if she doesnt realize it. at the end of the day, buddy and lisa both get to exact revenge against all the men who have wronged them, and they succeed. they are aggressive, and violent, and selfish, and ANGRY - and they have every fucking right to be.

#lisa the first #lisa the painful #lisa the joyful #long post #yall GOTTA stop u know good and damn well i will talk about this game all fucking day hdskjdsk #rape mention #abuse mention #lisa #anya's anons

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citialiin · 4 years

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FIVE SONGS

list five songs associated with your muse and its meaning to them as a character, or to you as the writer. this can be applied in-character or out-of-character. it can go as deep as looking at the song’s real-world origins or meaning along with the themes it carries to the muses’ story, values, or experiences, or as simple as if your muse would listen to this kind of music, or even if you just listen to these pieces for inspiration.

TAGGED BY: @dansiere, who did such a good detailed job they even included an “honorable mentions list” ? i am embarrassed to type mine out now TAGGING: @blossomingbeelzebug @zhrets @dirtyfilthysunshine @prcphesise @hyakiru @foxcharmed

01. kaun komsott - ros sereysothea

this song actually lyrically has absolutely nothing to do with ziggy !!!! kaun komsott / កូនកំសត់ actually just means “poor/pitiful child” it’s just a khmer dub of a song from a taiwanese movie lol but i feel like this is the kind of music he would listen to that made him fall in love with, like ... humanity, as dumb as that sounds. it’s time period appropriate (late 60s/early to mid 70s), the song is really good and it’s SO emotional. i could see him sitting in the apartment of his bandmates after being “found” and they teach him how to use the record player and he sits there going through each and every record they have and listening to this and its like the fucking scene in ratatootie where the goddamn rat can visualize tastes as colors but he would be so enamored with the song he would see it in colors or something i dunno. something has definitely fucking happened to my brain because ever since nat and alex and i rewatched ratatootie we keep referencing it for our characters. anyways i ended up using an instrumental of kaun komsott in the final film i made as the song that plays during the end. so this song just also means a lot to me because it’s part of how i made this character and the film/story i animated to go along with him, i am sure you are all absolutely sick of hearing me talk about it <3

02. who can i be now - daveed booweyywywy now you found me, now can I be real? can I be real? if it’s all a vast creation / putting on a face that’s new someone has to see / a role for him and me someone might as well be you

one of z’s most obvious character motifs is figuring out self identity through adopting different guises. he markets himself as being so overly confident and almost arrogantly certain of himself -- rock god space idol whatever -- as his own way of learning who he thinks he might be underneath it all. i think at first it started off a little innocuous, a ‘ fake it till u make it ’ thing at the least and maybe more obviously a ‘ im not a human so i have to pretend to be someone else ’ deal, but over time it became almost all consuming and just obliterated all his previously held sense of self in favor of some weirdly demented version of who he wanted to be. 683 starts off with the same core personality traits as ziggy: maybe he’s a little vain, a little selfish, but he’s very interested in creativity/self-expression and he wants to be thought of as a unique individual and appreciated for his differences. but the difference is that 683 isnt an arrogant asshole who has no regard for other people in the slightest. so yeah ... who can u be now ... is it worth it to adopt a different guise or should he go through the effort of figuring out what parts of his personality were corroded by human influence and what parts are genuinely him? my big endgame thoughts for his story would be that he eventually just decides to retire from the public eye and fucks off entirely. this would be over the course of a long long long time -- maybe he has a good 20 yr run in the industry -- but there are some things about him he has to deal with (mental health issues, drug addiction, also the fact that you’re a freaky alien creature who doesnt age like a human so you’re physically like 46 and you still look like you’re 25?) so he inevitably decides he doesnt need the horrible pressure of fame and he ought to just live his life for himself. i think this would be a nice final song for him to sing/perform -- then he goes into the dressing room and cuts his hair and just vanishes. bye.

03. sunny afternoon - the kinks Help me, help me, help me sail away Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay 'Cause I love to live so pleasantly Live this life of luxury Lazing on a sunny afternoon

1. i think this would sound A LITTLE like the kind of music he would write/play albeit i feel like his would be more exciting and have more samplings of like laser noises or pewpewpew or weird spaceship sounds BUT. its also pretty time period appropriate. even in “modern” verses ziggy is inexplicably obsessed with the 1970s, he likes bell bottoms and thinks groovy patterns are neat and he owns too many lava lamps. anywayz. 2. just the general idea of feeling unfulfilled with luxury -- even if ziggy enjoys his fame and wealth and the absolutely insane amount of pussy/dick he gets at some level he is still cognizantly aware of how weirdly empty he feels. he ditched atomina and came here because he felt unfulfilled and bored and unwanted. now he feels wanted (clearly, everyone loves him) and he feels entertained (earth is So Good at fun distractions) but his fulfillment still isnt quite there. he’s getting there -- but in exchange of being able to live this life of fame, he’s had to kind of change everything about himself and live this almost caricature version of himself, and he knows he cant keep it up forever. the luxury will run out one day and he’ll be a washup and no one cares about celebrities once they stop being hip. it is literally only a matter of time before ziggy has to find out who he is because no one can be a “rockstar” forever.

04. i hate jimmy page - mindless self indulgence SUCKAS CAN REACH OUT TOUCH ME EAT ME BITE DA FUTURE & FUCK DA PAST I'm lower than most animals and fear what might be weird and all those voices in my head have every right to be there i ain't a girl just cause i rock the boat i ain't a boy just cause i rock your world

i mean he does hate jimmy page but that’s beside the point. its just a good song about being a crazy rockstar and has the same Craziness that i feel like accompanies his character ... just go listen to it you will understand. there is nothing to explain here. even the lyric “ill show u how official midgets jack me off” like just accept it. it’s whatever but yeah i aint a girl i aint a boy ... i guess his gender (or lack thereof) never really comes up in rp but its still an important part of his character. if any of u guys ever call him a man in prose again ill kick ur ass. gender is like an accessory to him and he just takes whatever aspects of masculinity/femininity he prefers and discards everything else. to him he’s just as much a “man” or a “woman” as he is a “human” which is to say he isnt, at all, and he just pretends to be because he feels obligated to. also ziggy’s brain kind of sounds like this...just Noises. his brain sounds like a microwave that’s been going off for 26 years. i think his brain is a single uncooked pinto bean rolled in glitter that’s been left in a box with a cobweb

05. ghostride - crumb daydreaming I stay in the backseat / the slow beat rocks me back to sleep keeps me on automatic press my face up close against the glass i see the people when they pass they move so automatic you wake up when I go down / the radio reminds me I'm alive we've been hearing it all night

i care more about 683 on atomina than i do about ziggy on earth sometimes (BUT I CARE THEM BOTH. DO U?) so ... 683 feeling aimless and drifting but trying to find purpose through passion, a person, some sort of concrete meaning -- going through the motions of life makes him feel empty he spends almost every day going through the same toil while feeling guilty or like a burden and also feeling like he’s ultimately nothing more than a replaceable cog in a machine. his species had a near extinction = bottleneck which made them so genetically similar they’re almost clones of each other. no one ever seems to do anything wrong except him, he finds no joy or fulfillment in anything at all. all he ever wanted (which isnt a selfish desire at all) was to feel purpose, or feel wanted, or appreciated. inevitably he leaves because of his own imagination -- he yearns for something More, and he doesn’t know What, so he figured he ought to at least Try instead of waste his life away. also atomina is supposed to sound like “automatic.” do NOT make fun of my bad scifi. i am trying to mimic the way 1970s scifi is endearingly cheesy. come here. i just want to touch you with this knife. gently tho it wont go inside of you. bro you are bleeding. bro we are bleeding and i keep putting the knife in your soft parts.

#once again under the cut because i cant do memes without making them essays dawg!#i just have Things to say about zippy #also thank you so much for tagging me ... i know i take 200 years to do memes but i love them u_u #i did a meme like this earlier so i picked a new set of songs #KEEP YOUR 'LECTRIC EYE ON ME ; queue

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adlexegam · 4 years

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please tell me, am i in the wrong?

so basically i decided to join here cause i at least know my post wont get removed here. i tried posting my story on reddit’s AITA but my post kept getting removed because on their posts you cant post about abuse. so fuck it, here i am, hoping for someone other than my bf and myself to tell me im not wrong. context:i decided to invite my boyfriend over without telling my parents, i did it max 5 times. i was 16 at the time and he was 18. i got caught and my punishment was to get my phone taken away, my number cancelled, im no longer allowed to drive a car or get my license, im only allowed one friend, im not allowed my laptop anymore, im no longer allowed outside without constant supervision, cameras were installed in and out of the house, and just about every day since december of 2019 ive been getting told how disgusting i am for wanting to be with a n****r (my bf’s half puerto rican half white, i’m half hispanic and half white too), how if he was white he would have come to the front door and shook my parent’s hands and asked for permission to date their daughter, how im a dirty n****r lover who will get pregnant from him and have to slave away to take care of our half breed mistakes, how if i stay with him he’ll sell my body on the streets for money, how if i have sex with him ill get every std on the plant, all that 50′s bullshit. ive gotten pregnancy tested (im celibate), drug tested (mom claims she smelled weed in my room, so he’s a dirty n****r drug dealer apparently forcing me to do drugs, guess what i am against drugs since i know itll change my brain chemistry and i have weak lungs),and std tested (still celibate). for the first few months after they found out i was allowed my laptop at home to do homework, and only allowed my phone during school. one day i got home and i got greeted to the fact that i no longer have a laptop and now have to use the house computer to do all my work at home. of course i got mad because for months ive been doing everything they wanted, and suddenly im being punished for being suspiciously good? my mom got on top of me and fought me to take off my backpack to take my airpods too, left my phone on the kitchen table. i grabbed my phone and locked myself in my room. she found out i took my phone, and once i unlocked the door i held my phone above my head so we can just talk. instead she got on top of me and started scratching me and all over my arms to get to my phone. i dropped it from the pain of the scratches on my arms. earlier that same day i was getting ready for school with my laptop open, camera taped over, looking for any school assignments i missed. my mom unlocked my door and saw my nude body getting ready with my laptop open, and just went back to the kitchen table and told my dad how much of a slut i am and how im posting my nude body on the internet. i quickly put on clothes and came up to her yelling how im just getting ready for school and how theres tape over the camera. i even told her to look at the laptop, the only thing open was google classroom. my dad got up and started yelling at me for being a slut and for talking back. for once i finally got tired of being yelled at, i finally stood up for myself. he punched me in the face and when my mom got in between to defend me (she caused the whole situation), his swings went back in on her stomach. i screamed dont hit my mother and tried to push her off him, he used the oppurtunity to grab my shoulder by my uniform and punch me in the shoulder. everything was a blur after that. my mother drove me to school and yelled how i shouldnt have been a whore on the internet. i fought back. before i got to school i yelled “please, just fuck off”. this is important later, because she used me saying that as the excuse for her getting on top of me and scratching me and ripping my backpack off my back. because i swore at her. it was okay. but here’s the important part. he hit me in front of the camera. i knew the police would ignore the emotional abuse ive been getting for my entire life. i got my physical evidence. finally, after 16 years, i had my evidence. i told my boyfriend what happened, and we agreed to meet after school the next day and call the police. i wanted to be emancipated, since my parents adamantly agreed that i (apparently) only wanted to be emancipated because my ‘poor street rat n****r boyfriend’ was manipulating me into it. ive been dreaming of this day since i was 8, when i realized what ive been told wasnt normal. they showed up on the corner of where i called. i told the policemen what happened to me the day before. they asked if i had any scars or bruises. i said no, he didnt punch me hard enough to get a bruise the next day, and my mother didnt scratch me hard enough to get scars. they knew what would happen if they gave me physical evidence. after i said that, the policeman interrogating me asked me something that will stay with me until the day i die. “he never really hit you, did he?” i began crying and saying yes! yes he did! i have video footage to prove it! we have cameras in the house! it happened right in front of the cameras! more questions ensued, and i was brought to the police station while my boyfriend waited at a local coffeeshop for me to finally be free from the abuse. at first i was scared, but the cops calmed me down. i told them everything. all my memories spilled from my mouth like water from the niagra falls. everything came rushing out, my fears, my forgotten memories i forced into my box of never to be remembered, the times before i feared for my life, the times i knew something wasnt right. i told them everything from the bottom of my heart. they listened and asked all the right questions.(if you want to know what happened to me and what i told them, ill post them in a future post if anyone cares) one of the officers, the only one with melanin skin and a father to a beautiful girl, expressively felt sick from my stories, from my life. not even he could understand why, as a father, why any parent would find it right to do to me what they did. he was my favourite police officer, he was the kindest and the only one who really wanted me to feel comfortable. he talked to me on the level of a person, not a child. eventually cps came and he told me to tell her everything too. i did. she asked where i wanted to go if i got emancipated. i said to live with my boyfriend, his family is willing to take me in and once i get a job ill pay minimal rent so i can be free. she said ‘no, you cant live with a minor.’ i said he’s not a minor, he’s 18. she said ‘oh, then yeah you definetly cant live with him’ she said if i wanted to leave i would be put into a women’s shelter since i was too old to be adopted/put into foster care. she said i would be r*ped if i was put in there. she said i should just take it until im 18, then ill be fine. she said that there were no scars or bruises, so it wasnt that bad. (this part is blurry, the more i remember it the more the memories overlap, im sorry for any confusion) the police interrogated my parents. they believed every word they said. my mother used whitepages as a source to prove how my boyfriend lied about his name. my mother used our hours long calls to prove how im obviously being manipulated to lie. she said how im just a liar, as my father said, a pathological liar. they had no cause to me being a pathological liar, i was just born that way. i was lying to get into my manipulative boyfriend’s arms for my body to be used by him and his friends. i was obviously being manipulated, why would i want to leave my loving parents arms? i was obviously doing this just out of anger of getting my laptop and phone taken away, obviously. its not like they EVER did anything wrong to me, they were just teaching me to grow up a mature adult, ready for the world. they would never put their hands on me. the police never looked at the cameras. they never questioned me again. i was a liar. at home the child protective services lady said my room quote ‘ranked of weed’. i have never done weed. my boyfriend has never done weed in my room. at the station they said they couldnt find a record of my boyfriend. i later found out that, even after he gave them his social security number, they still questioned his existence. at the station they told my parents they couldnt find his record (he has none, hes never committed a crime). at home a therapist came. to my knowledge, my boyfriend was never real (no record) and i would still have to be at home. i wanted to die. the therapist said she wanted to take me to a mental hospital. my mom was there and consented. my dad later came home, yelled at me in front of the therapist. she said im suicidal, with his consent she would call her supervisor to take me to the local mental hospital. he consented. while she called her supervisor from across the kitchen, he said: “she wants to kill herself? fuck if i care, she can drown herself in a river for all i care” i sat there shocked. the mental hospital was a blur. once i got home i got my phone taken away too. my only communication would be from the 10+ year old computer we have in the kitchen. facing out so anyone that walks by can see what im doing. one of the cameras is watching me at all times, but is positioned so that it cant see what i am doing. once i got home i used our kindle fire. i logged into discord on incognito mode. i asked him to send me his birth certificate. was he even real? was i even real? was our late nights of cuddling nothing? were the walks in the park nothing? were the ‘i love you’s nothing? did meeting his family from an hour long train ride mean nothing? were the chinese food dates nothing? were the confessions of our embarassing secrets nothing? were the times we had non-vaginal sex and laughed in the middle from how silly we were being mean nothing? were the times we had tiffs and talked it out mean nothing? did he save me from my ex-abusive partner just to use me? were the times we layed down next to each other with the only covering being my blanket, staring at each other in wonder of how lucky each of us were, was that nothing? when we spent hours telling each other our entire life stories, was he lying? did the times he called my body the most beautiful thing he ever has seen, the times he’s said he didnt think he’d ever fall in love again from his ex, was that a lie? he sent his birth certificate. it was real. his birth date his name it was all real. he told me what happened to him. i told him what happened to me. he apologized for it going the way it did. i apologized for doubting him. child protective services sent a therapist me and my mother had to meet with weekly. 2 hours, 10 times. it lasted until the first weeks of quarantine. me and him are still in the same love we’ve has since before he found out how truly insane my parents are. the only reason we’ve ever gotten into fights is from how much he wants me to run away (before you say ‘ok maybe the parents were right, he sounds manipulative’, no, he only says that after every time something else happens at home and how he has to cope with the fact that im okay with being abused since its my normal. he wants me to run away from the abuse, not just so we can see each other again, so i wont be hurt anymore). he’s still the man i want to marry, the man i want to call mine and for him to call me his. we get scared the other might get tired of the waiting and just decide to leave for someone each other’s family would like. we talk through it. we know we can wait. i know i can take it until im 18. he knows he’ll be prepared to take me in once im 18. we know we can take the late nights awake, missing each other. we can take it because this isnt puppy love. this isnt purely passionate love. he wants me to be safe, and i want to finally be free. so you’re up to this point and you’re probably thinking one of three things: jesus christ can this lady capitalize anything?? or holy FUCK this is long it better be good or why did she title her post that? first of all, i do what a want nehenehenehneh second of all, whoever reads this needs the full context before i ask my question third of all, because of what happened a couple of days ago. a month ago my dad passed from covid-19. ive become the housewife while my mother has taken over the family business and my brother does the grass once a month. my mother still cooks, but i clean the dishes and fold laundry every day and vaccuum the whole house twice a week. a letter came in the other day stating how our child protective services case is now closed. they never found signs of physical abuse or neglect. my mother reminded me for the infinitieth time how stupid i am for getting manipulated. how much of a dirty n*****r lover i am. how i will never be anything without her. then she brought my father into this i started the situation, which made him depressed. he was depressed, so he couldnt fight off the virus. because he couldnt fight off the virus, he died. she blamed me for killing my father she blamed me for my father for deciding to go out every day without a mask for my father deciding to put in his eyedrops in an insanitary environment she blamed me it was my fault i knew i was leaving when im 18 i knew i wanted to tell my mother at least a month before i left that i was leaving but now theres no going back once im 18, im gone im never turning back i will never be treated like this or talked down like this ever again but who will clean? who will vaccuum? who will make sure the house is organized? do i stay? can i even go? i just dont know anymore should i go? and well, what i started this post with, please tell me, am i in the wrong? for planning on leaving when im 18? to finish this post, i just want to say a few things. dont tell me to call the police or child protective services.i already did. they believed my abusive parents and told them how they can protect themselves against me, since i was the one who started all this. plus, look at the fucking news. no fucking wonder they believed my parents. my boyfriend looks hispanic and i look white. no fucking wonder they believed my parents. fuck cops. not all cops are bad, but no cop should fucking gun down people for their race. no person should be judged from some racist person saying “oh im fearing for my life” and the person in question is black/a poc and is doing fucking nothing. they believed my fucking abusive parents because they threw my bf under the bus as bait and the police went for it. dont come after my family. all that will do is make everything worse for me. my mother can’t even look at a poc without claiming they’re related to my boyfriend and are going to follow her to kill her. dont do anything to me. just please answer my question. please just tell me if im in the right or if im in the wrong. i know this is abuse. i know whats happening to me is wrong. but i know i can take it. i know i can survive. i will survive and achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. i will be my own person. i am me

#numb #mental illness #abuse #trauma #sad #sadness #abusive #hurt #depression #acab #amitheasshole #aita #deep #emotionalabuse

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letstalksymphogear · 5 years

Text

Symphogear, EP. 6

Last Time on Grand Theft Auto:

Tsubasa recovers from the world’s gayest coma as Hibiki trains her mind while putting aside such silly concepts as “the love of my life” and “literally being with my girlfriend.” After cooling Miku’s paranoia with her brand new washboard abs, Genjuro prepares the team for a pizza run across the city to deliver a dangerously hot pizza pie named Durandal. Chaos emerges as the delivery is intercepted by a rival pizza gang, lead by the nefarious Gremlin known as Yukine Chris. But, before the pizza could be claimed, dedicated pizza deliverywoman Hibiki not only steals it back, but eats it, harnessing the power of the pizza and unleashing cheesy pasta based chaos around the location.

Ryoko is so into it that she taps into her superpowers and protects Hibiki after she passes out. The delivery is considered a failure, and no tip is given.

And so, the journey continues...

Meanwhile, in this weird, tricked out mansion...

Chris meditates on some water metaphors of her own.

“that pacman colored freak took only touching it to activate a cheap ass french sword that gave her weird demon powers and its taken me YEARS to use this dumb stripper outfit and the funny cane that goes with it, what the FUCK man, what even is my life”

“maybe... maybe honeybaked hams ARE that powerful...”

“NO! turkey is the superior meat! it’s healthier, lower in fat, and way more tasty! fuck you! i’ll get my goddamned revenge!”

Chris begins musing about Fine’s motivations to capture Hibiki; during these, we’re treated to some brief image flashbacks of Chris’s life.

Suddenly, those jokes about food are a lot less funny.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together as to why this young woman is helping a strange nudist dominatrix spread alien terror across the city of mumblednoises, Japan. She doesn’t really have many an option on the table. It’s either help the weird kinkster with her plans, or die.

Despite everything, she has a high opinion of Fine, for the same reasons someone might have a high opinion of a television show if it were the only show they were ever exposed to. She is deeply afraid of being alone again, because she has lived through such misery that the very thought of existing out in the cold again terrifies the shit out of her.

The Sun rises casually amidst Chris’s thoughts.

“ah shit. it just hit me. i literally have spent the entire night standing here instead of actually going the fuck to sleep. goddamnit.”

On such a devious metaphorical twist, Fine stands behind her as the Sun rises.

“yeah, jokes on you. i couldnt sleep for shit either. turns out, all nude, no blankets? in japan? real bad idea.”

“thats why i decided to GO GOTH, babey! whattaya think? do i give those witchy vibes, huh? real ‘black magic woman’ santana hours? feeling cute, gonna head out with the girls and summon satan in the woods kinda aesthetic looking shit? come on, be real with me. does this not look baller?”

“you look like morticia decided to go to the grocery store to buy some wonder bread, but other than that, its a step up from your usual pussy out attitude, so sure”

“you know i decided to get some brain cells on loan from Brain Cells R Us, and ive been thinking this solomon cane stuff is solomon lame. i dont need this dumb oversized harry potter cosplay prop to get shit done. also, murder is... sorta bad? im still trying to get the brain cell stuff down.”

“i can punch just as good as goody two shoes if not better.”

“lol go do it then champ, im gonna go cut down a forest of trees now”

And so, they both just kinda... stand there.

“QUACK, NEXT SCENE, QUACK”

Meanwhile, Tsubasa is rapidly trying to rehabilitate herself from her wounds like walking like a madman, her IV drip presumably filled with Taco Bell brand Doritos Locos Tacos super spicy nacho cheese. Taco Bell: Live Mas.

“im gonna clear every fucking taco bell in your goddamned memory, kanade”

“think outside the bun! wait, what? that was a taco bell slogan? ah fuck it, im dead. what nerd’s gonna try and correct me?”

“i would, kanade. i am that nerd.”

Tsubasa is hell bent to try and understand Kanade’s simple philosophy of helping others selflessly. Unfortunately, when Kanade died, she took all the brain cells between them in the process, so coming to this epiphany is a work in progress.

“listen its a fucking miracle you are 1. alive and 2. able to have your blood run on the garbage melted plastic taco bell tries to dupe people into believing is cheese so why dont you just lie down and think of better franchises to eat from”

“no! you dont understand! taco bell is a franchise of the PEOPLE! their meals are cheap and filling and- and the chicken quesadillas are of good quality for their price! i promised kanade- my vow to the death. taco bell... ergh... now and forever... i-”

“wait. my gay senses are tingling.”

It’s Hibiki, probably running track with Miku.

“oh yeah... her... i should probably apologize to her. about trying to kill her. and then letting her almost be kidnapped. and just giving her a general hard time about something that wasn’t explained to her in the slightest for months. she’s a good bean.”

Tsubasa proceeds to never canonically apologize to Hibiki throughout the entirety of all 4 seasons of Symphogear.

Look at em run. See, it’s a metaphor, because they haven’t communicated yet and they’re running from their problems! But they’re running towards Tsubasa, who is part of the representative problem these two share! Clearly literary genius.

It’s like someone went halfway into writing an NTR plotline and went “maybe this isn’t a good idea to market our songs on.”

Hibiki is still thinking about her Hellshake Yano moment with Durandal. Mainly how she nearly killed someone with it. Hibiki is very starkly in the “killing is bad, and wrong” camp of morality, a trait currently unique to her that she’ll wind up teaching literally everyone else she meets one way or another.

Some could argue the L stands for Lydian, and they’re wrong. It stands for Lesbian.

“that was one hell of a run, hibiki! im pooped! why dont we go to the locker room and call it a day, have a nice shower and just get some dinn-”

“this is the last straw.

i clean your plates. i cook your food. we eat, shit, shower, and sleep in the same FUCKING area, and this is how you repay me? huh? you think being your wife is easy shit, hibiki? half the damn time you’re running off like clark kent having food poisoning and the other half ive gotta babysit you, the emotional equivalent of a preteen clown, to make sure your life doesn’t self destruct harder than Atlantis sinking into the ocean. im done! i am DONE. im reopening my tinder, im slamming my ass BACK into okcupid, and im gonna date some CUTE ACADEMY GIRLS that treat me BETTER than this ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL OF HEART AND IM NOT CRYING I SWEAR ITS JUST THE SWEAT IN MY EYES AND HIBIKI HOW COULD YOU-”

“oh yeah, sure! hey, lemme just do a few more laps, ive just been feeling judgmental about myself and my figure, you know? gotta push myself further...”

“o-oh yeah, sure. no worries, ill wait for you. love you too, hibiki...”

The girls bathe together, as good friends typically do.

“hey you ever notice the showers here have like, weird psuedo-luxurious minipools to bathe in? like, how rich is this school?”

“whoever made this place is either rich or a pervert. or both, probably!”

Miku remarks that Hibiki has changed since she’s entered Lydian, in a manner most unheterosexual.

“oh FUCK you really DO have washboard abs now! ohhh my god.”

“damn, those abs were heavenly. let’s get pancakes later.”

I won’t screenshot it but something to note is that they actually wear each other’s corresponding underwear colors (or even, if you want to examine more closely, each other’s underwear). Here’s an equivalent scene to give you the mental image.

This is the face of someone who knows what they want and already have it. Such is the power of Kohinata Miku.

Meanwhile, Genjuro comes back from the funeral of the guy the Americans filled violently and with impunity.

“yo that all black look looks baller. i should borrow that look... id look pretty gothy in it.”

“ryoko i sympathize with your sharp, fashionista eye but this was for a funeral, i was paying my respects to the dead. thats the usual dress code.”

“didnt know they updated that. i remember back in my day, we just went in white garments and chanted in latin!”

“shit was fire. literally. lots of funeral pyres.”

“lmao ryoko buddy your larping sessions arent actual history”

“hey dont shit on larping around me. i used to be a professional larper while i was majoring in acting. helped really sell my career when i had to pretend to slay the Dark Lord Jyarloen atop the mountain of skulls in Hargobor after my family was killed by the Dark Army. asshole.”

“haha yeah, larping, thats cool yeah, i do that

i...

i larp.”

“oh yeah? you wanna join my larping session sometime then? we’re gonna do an ancient babylon plot thats inspired by some anime, itll be fun”

“.....................................im super into realism.”

“i know im dressed for a funeral but id like to not part ways with my dignity yet. besides, we’ve got serious shit to talk about. basically, we’re on the verge of getting shitcanned.”

As it turns out, the death of this politician removed the last obstacle of opposition to maintain the 2nd Division, as the average criticism against the 2nd Division is “why are we funding this mystery division when we don’t know what they do”. Of course, the sensible idea for an organization that defeats the Noise is to declassify it, given people of different jobs and positions have physically seen the Symphogear in action, but you know. “Oh no, the other governments will come after us” stick gets shaken.

“im in a union. i know my rights. you’re not taking my acting job here away from me.”

“im not going back to be a preschool teacher. its been ten year. the bites on my ankles still havent healed...”

“yeah man, shit sucks ass. i cant fund my adoption habits if im fired.”

Look at these cinematic parallels. Symphogear truly is a franchise made by someone living in 3030.

“worst part is the new minister is super into america. he’s a... westaboo.”

“a westaboo?”

“westaboo?”

“did he just unironically say westaboo”

“he said westaboo. oh my god. this is the hell timeline.”

“i mean people kept calling me that for worshipping all these fighting flicks so i guess it fit? i dont see the problem here”

Meanwhile, in Lydian Academy...

“so it hit me, right? we’re ALL girls. and we ALL sing. now, humor me a moment. what if... what if we’ve all been recruited to potentially be superheroes... through our singing? like, there’s no coincidence that all this shit happens around us, right? and a famous singer LIVES here? i saw the black cars outside! weird shit is happening here- im not even gonna eat the all you can eat bar anymore!”

“kathy there is literally no such thing as superheroes who sing. this place is more likely to be a organ harvesting op than whatever madness you’re saying”

“what? you need me, a singing superhero, to go stop a problem happening underneath the school, a location meant to recruit young women into potentially becoming fellow crime fighting singers?”

“yeah im too busy poppin’ caps in asses so go kick ass in my place”

“sure!”

“.....................................who ya talkin to, hibiki?”

“the boss! gotta go do a thing again...”

“hibiki, i dont like the fact that capitalism is tearing us apart.”

“you’ve gotta join me in the revolution, hibiki. you. me. luxury automated gay space communism. aint it the dream? share my vision, hibiki. its glorious.”

“n... no...? no gay space communism today? well, what about tomorrow? or the next day? or... maybe the next day? baby steps, you say? but, direction action, hibiki! we’ve gotta strike now!”

“it’s okay hibiki. when i take over the world and destroy all first world government leaders, and unite the globe in my encompassing reign and love... ill make sure to spare you, and be my bride to be.”

“thanks miku. im just not ready yet for the globe to burn in an unending ball of fire as the continents fuse into a new utopia composed of our combined wills. also, ive really gotta go, its genuinely an emergency.”

“for the cause!”

“yes hibiki... for the cause...”

Admittedly, you can see the stages of grief Miku goes through when she sees Hibiki say she can’t join her for pancakes. It’s sad. This side story sucks.

Meanwhile, as it turns out, the problem Hibiki needed to resolve was checking on Tsubasa to see if she hadn’t dissolved into Taco Bell brand hot n’ spicy Tabasco sauce.

“god, cant believe taco bell was closed. now i gotta deliver these lame ass flowers”

“cant wait to get threatened again. wonder what she’ll say. ‘hibiki, i should have killed you when i had the chance.’ or ‘you’re so goddamned weak. i could break your spine with my fingernail’, or some other stuff about metaphors. oh, my stops here”

“HEY BITCH WHATS GOOD-”

“HOLY SHIT”

“you are already”

“dead.”

#symphogear #recap #anime #comedy #sponsored by taco bell

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shadowsong26fic · 4 years

Text

The Family of Spies AU

AKA ‘Shadowsong should not have unsupervised access to multiple fandoms at once: Exhibit A.’

I kid. Mostly.

Anyway, it’s that time again--time for an AU Outline! It feels like forever since I’ve done one of these. …and by ‘forever’ I mean the last one was the SPN/Person of Interest crossover back in January.

This one is, uh, also a fairly niche crossover. It’s inspired and helped along by @tigerkat, who introduced me to one of the two fandoms and whose Star Wars OCs I’m borrowing to make it work. (Also, one or two bits in here are more or less lifted from our IM conversations on the subject

Basically, the short version is, I’ve been watching Nikita, and TigerKat and I have put together this whole extended family for Kallus and Zeb and one thing led to another, wires got crossed in my brain, and here we are.

Welcome to my Star Wars/Nikita fusion.

So, first, some relevant background:

In everything TigerKat and I developed, Alex and Zeb end up collecting/adopting four kids. (TigerKat, feel free to correct me on any details that are Off in any way!)

First kid they adopt is Mirah, shortly after the events of ANH.

Mirah is Human, and around three or four at this point; her parents were part of an extremely pacifist sect, of the kind where even defending yourself against someone trying to kill you is Not Okay. The sect was wiped out (probably not by the Empire, last I heard?) and Mirah was the only survivor; she watched her parents died right in front of her. Alex ended up there on an unrelated mission, and brought the little girl back to base.

Turns out, she’d gotten Attached and would not sleep without him close by.

(I mean. He’d gotten Attached as well but there is a Conversation to be had here, and he and Zeb haven’t actually had it yet, so…yeah.)

So, that’s how they get Kid #1.

Mirah later grows up to be essentially a mob boss/puts together a semi-legal syndicate. She doesn’t have a whole lot of faith in the law.

Second kid is Orryn, something like a year or two later, I think?

Orryn is a Donogh (species name subject to change; they’re basically like human-sized rabbit hobbits), and four or five years older than Mirah. His father and older brother were killed when he was born, and his mother eventually found her way to the Rebels after that. Donoghs tend to have very large families, so the fact that he’s an only child is a little Weird.

His mom is a friend of theirs, and when she dies, Alex and Zeb take Orryn in as well.

He is very Soft, both physically and metaphorically (like I said, rabbit hobbits), and like the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet.

(Mirah learns very quickly to weaponize her brother’s Sad Eyes. She’s very good at getting what she wants.)

The other three kids all end up taking Zeb’s last name; Orryn keeps his original one (his people are matriarchal and matrilineal).

He grows up to be a mechanic, and has a more typical family for his species with nine kids.

Third is Shamie, who’s roughly halfway between Mirah and Orryn; they get adopted a month or so before ESB.

I’ve written about them here; but the most important bits--

They’re Human, agender, and a former street thief/pickpocket. They help Zeb out when a mission goes sideways after his local contact fails to show up, and Zeb decides to keep them, because he really can’t leave them there for a long list of reasons. They’d been on their own for close to a year at that point, and were roughly eight or nine.

(The conversation where Zeb checks in with Alex about this is very entertaining, because he texts to confirm that a third kid is okay in the middle of a firefight. Alex is less than thrilled.)

Shamie and Mirah are basically platonic soulmates. There’s just a sort of click when the two of them meet.

They grow up to be a priest of a sun/fire deity.

Fourth is Hanula, better known as Hanny.

She’s a Lasat baby who they adopt a few months after Endor, after Zeb mentions to the elders on Lira San that he and Alex have been considering a fourth kid, maybe starting with an infant this time, and maybe someone of his own species this time…

Some time not too long after that, Hanula is placed in his arms and he’s told ‘good luck.’

She’s stabby, as in she likes to Stab Things as a baby (usually with, like, a fork), which later gets translated into cooking--she ends up as a Chef.

While she does turn up, of course, she’s not super relevant for this crossover, but she’s Delightful so I thought I’d share anyway XD

(There’s also Alex’s sister and her sons, plus, uh, the various grandchildren, but they’re also not super relevant to the crossover. I can share details about them if anyone’s curious, though.)

As a note, I’ve only seen like half a season of Nikita at this point; so while we’re starting from the same basic premise, I don’t really expect this to converge with actual future plot points like at all. So.

Also, as a result of that, this outline will probably also take on a certain resemblance to Alias and/or other similar Spy Dramas.

Anyway. So. Let’s get this show on the road.

Kallus takes on Nikita’s role in this--Death Faked For You; trained to be a super spysassin by a Shady Black Ops Group from his late teens/early twenties. Much like Nikita in her canon, he meets someone while on an extended cover assignment and falls in love.

Division is less than thrilled with this, and so arrange orders Zeb’s death.

(Obviously, this doesn’t take, because I am Not About That. But Kallus genuinely believes Zeb is dead, which is what pushes him to break free, much like Nikita’s reaction to Daniel’s murder.)

(Zeb also thinks Kallus is dead; he, of course, got picked up by the Ghost crew, but more about him later.)

Mirah will take on Alex’s role (which is why I started referring to Kallus that way, even though in my head and in this outline up to this point he’s mostly Alex XD).

Probably a blend of the two backgrounds--her parents/the sect she grew up in were taken out by Division; probably with the cover story that they were a Dangerous Cult, but the exact reason was more likely Profit or something. Since they mostly weren’t? At least not in the ‘need to be dismantled’ sort of way.

Kallus, like Nikita, was on hand and made sure that the little girl survived, but wouldn’t/couldn’t follow up since he was still a mostly-loyal Division agent at that point. He tracks her down after he breaks free, and they start working together.

She eventually talks him into the idea of her infiltrating Division, as that will better suit their plans to dismantle the organization.

(…really, most of this early part is not super different from Nikita and Alex. Mostly summarizing for anyone reading this who’s unfamiliar with the show.)

Shamie is an older/prior recruit; they’ve been here a few months. Their marksmanship is pretty much bottom of the barrel, so far as the current crop of recruits go, and their hacking skills could use some work, but they’re one of the best at hand-to-hand/other close-quarters combat, and they’re probably top third with explosives and other detail work. And they’re generally a pretty phlegmatic person. Not many of the other recruits keep cool under pressure as well as they do.

They’re probably fairly close to being evaluated and promoted to full Agent status when Mirah is brought in.

The two of them, as in their normal lives/timeline, immediately click. Mirah reports back to Kallus, confirming her infiltration was successful, and also mentioning Shamie.

“Remember what I told you about making friends,” Kallus warns her. “Losing them will be hard. And you can’t know how loyal this person is to Division. Be very careful.”

Mirah internally rolls her eyes, because she’s not dumb, she knows that.

A few more quick parallels, for the Higher Ups at Division:

Arindha Pryce stands in for Percy.

She just has the right blend of Genuine Competence buried under Not As Good As She Thinks She Is to match up with him.

Founding member and leader of Division.

Thrawn stands in for Amanda.

Like, okay. The two of them, for a variety of reasons, have vastly different management styles.

But in terms of his actual skillset and the role Amanda plays, at least on paper? Which is to say, supervising training/constructing covers/monitoring recruits and agents and their mental states?

(Plus, the whole…resident torturer/interrogator/etc. thing…)

Yeah, he could pull that off.

Pellaeon stands in for Michael.

Because I love him.

Also the Vastly Different Dynamic between the Head of Division, the Whatever Amanda’s Actual Job Title Is, and the 2iC/Head Field Operative with these three as opposed to Percy, Amanda, and Michael entertains me.

(Pellaeon is more loyal to Thrawn than Pryce, but only if it came down to an Actual Contest between the two of them would that ever be relevant. He’s extremely competent, but occasionally a little too involved with the recruits, in a fairly paternal sense. Especially since he’s probably a good twenty years older than Michael. But I digress.)

So, Mirah is successfully inserted. That goes pretty much the same as in Nikita canon, completely with Kallus making a splashy return to Division’s radars.

(Probably not at Zeb’s grave, though; if Zeb even has an actual grave.)

She starts interacting with other recruits, including Shamie. The two of them click pretty quickly, all things considered, but given the circumstances…yeah, they keep a certain level of distance, at least for now.

…well, at least on the surface, anyway. Mirah is even more determined to burn Division to the ground if they breathe harm in Shamie’s direction.

(For their part, Shamie may or may not start to notice a few anomalies, but they keep that knowledge to themself for now.)

For a few months, it’s pretty much the pattern the early S1 episodes have--Mirah will get details on an official Division op, pass them along to Kallus, he’ll be on hand to foil it. She gets activated briefly once or twice, but is mostly just working as a regular recruit for her cover.

Plus, you know, evading Thrawn’s suspicions; all that good stuff.

Pellaeon does take a liking to her--she reminds him of Kallus, who was one of the better recruits, and he keeps an eye out for her, much like Michael does for Alex in canon.

Shamie gets activated for their final evaluation/first kill mission about two or three months after Mirah gets recruited. They succeed, but some of the aftermath/followup confirms their previous suspicions about Mirah, and they’re left sort of struggling with what to do about it.

On the one hand, they’re a fairly loyal Division agent at this point, and what Mirah’s doing is probably going to get a lot of their fellow agents, maybe even some recruits, killed. And they know that probably some of what’s been reported as Kallus’s activities is exaggerated, or at least spun to make him look Evil and Division look better, but they know there’s a grain of truth to it.

On the other...they spent a few years, as a child, working for a thief-runner/gang. This was…not a good situation. Gotta keep the baby thieves in line. And they’ve seen other recruits get canceled before. As much as they don’t necessarily want to go against their superiors in Division (again, gotta keep the baby thieves in line; they know what the consequences of that would be), they also know that that loyalty does not go both ways. They are expendable. All of the recruits and agents are.

And they like Mirah. And if they don’t look out for each other…well, who will?

Besides. It’s not like they have any actual proof. Bringing this to Pellaeon, who likes Mirah, or Thrawn, who likes no one--let alone Pryce--seems like it’ll backfire.

So, they stay quiet about what they’ve guessed, and wait, and watch, and work.

Things change when Orryn is recruited.

Mirah and Shamie both take one look at this sweet, gentle boy and have the same thought--he won’t last. He’ll be cancelled within a month. Maybe sooner.

Pryce questions the choice of bringing him in, too; it was Thrawn’s idea. No, he’ll never make field agent, but the boy’s good with mechanics, and computers. If he can survive the training process, they can put him to use there.

Sort of considering him for Birkhoff’s role.

Shamie, even as a full agent, doesn’t have the access or the tools they need to spring Orryn, as much as they want to.

But Mirah--Mirah has Kallus, and a way to contact him.

“This isn’t about my friend. This is about a sweet kid, too sweet for Division, who will be killed or broken if we don’t do something,” she says. “And isn’t that part of what we’re doing here? Trying to make sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else?”

Kallus is torn. Because, on the one hand, she’s absolutely right--it’s why he was reluctant to send her in undercover (oh, yes, the thought had occurred to him) until she suggested it.

But on the other hand, getting a recruit out of Division without compromising Mirah’s emergency exfiltration strategy is going to be Hard. And as much as he wants to help this kid, he also wants to help/protect the one he has already.

He tells Mirah, eventually, that he can’t promise anything, but he’ll start working on a plan.

Mirah…

Remember what I said earlier, about Mirah tending to get what she wants?

Mirah gets to work on her end. The way she sees it, if she figures out a way to get Orryn outside somehow, whether it’s getting him temporarily activated like she was that one time, or some other excuse, then Kallus won’t have a problem rescuing him.

Of course, she’s just a recruit herself, and she can’t muck around with that without compromising her cover. She’s half-tempted to just shove Orryn out her escape tunnel, her own exit be damned, but Kallus specifically told her not to do that, so she holds back.

The opportunity comes when one of Mirah’s prior breaches is discovered, two or three weeks after Orryn’s brought in.

Possibly the shell program she and Kallus have been using to talk; possibly something else and she didn’t cover her tracks quite well enough (i.e., breaking into Pryce’s office). No one’s tied it to her, not yet, but things are Tense.

Kallus asks Mirah if she needs an extraction, and she again brings up Orryn. “I’m good,” she says. “But the sweet kid I was telling you about…”

“We talked about this,” he says. “And I am working on it, I promise.”

But before either of them can do anything, Orryn ends up at the wrong place at the wrong time, and one of the guards is convinced he’s the mole.

Thrawn points out that this doesn’t make much sense--the serious breaches started well before Orryn was brought in.

Pryce agrees, but insists on letting the situation run its course, to see if it can flush out the real mole.

And Mirah has a Thing about people she’s attached herself to getting hurt.

Mirah manages to somehow get Orryn out of wherever he’s being held. She sends a quick message to Kallus--“Sweet Kid coming out, they think he’s me”--and takes him to the exit tunnel.

They are pursued, of course. By the overzealous guard--and by Shamie.

Mirah gets Orryn into the tunnel and prepares to stand her ground.

Shamie catches up first.

And handles the situation Very Differently from the way Thom does in Nikita canon.

“I’m not turning you in,” they say. “You got Orryn out?”

“Yeah.”

They nod. “Good. Okay. They think he’s the mole, but they’re gonna realize someone helped him escape, unless--”

And then the guard catches up.

There is a Fight. The guard manages to shoot Shamie (not seriously; through-and-through in the upper arm), who tosses Mirah their gun, and she fires back, putting two in his chest.

“…we can work with this,” Mirah says, pressing her hands onto where Shamie’s bleeding. “If we…if we stage it so he pointed the finger at Orryn to cover his own crimes…”

“You have any evidence we can plant on him?” Shamie says. “M’good at that. Planting evidence.”

“Yeah,” she says. She has a key card, and a few other bits and pieces. Shamie, hands shaking slightly, positions them appropriately. “And Orryn…”

“Was also a plant,” Shamie decides. “Sent in when the guard’s cover got shaky, to extract him. But he managed to get away in the confusion. We underestimated him.”

Mirah thinks about this for a minute, then nods. “I think I can sell that,” she says, as more guards start heading their way.

“Good,” Shamie says. “…talk later.”

Mirah nods, and Shamie blacks out, leaving her to spin the lies they need to survive this.

A few hours later, Mirah touches base with Kallus to confirm Orryn got out safely, and to inform him he has another inside agent.

So, the situation has improved somewhat! Unfortunately, it’s also been damaged--since the shell program was found, Kallus and Mirah don’t have secure communications. That first message she got out, about Orryn and Shamie? Yeah, she can’t use that route again, or she’ll establish a pattern.

On the other hand, Shamie is a full agent, which means they have an apartment and the freedom to move around and set an in-person meet. Which Kallus wants anyway, to evaluate Mirah’s friend.

(And, if they check out, to spoof their tracker and give them freedom of movement. Always a plus.)

So, Shamie and Kallus use another one-off communicator to set an in-person meeting, so they can talk.

“You did help Mirah and Orryn,” Kallus acknowledges, after they’ve run through their prearranged confirmation signals. “That counts for something.”

“But you think it could just be me establishing a cover,” Shamie said.

“The thought occurred.”

Shamie doesn’t say anything right away. “I hear all kinds of things about you,” they finally say. “Some of it seems true. Some of it seems exaggerated. I know you’re Division’s enemy, but that…” They shrug. “I trust Mirah. And she trusts you. That’s good enough for me.”

“And Division?”

“I know how gangs work,” they say, flatly. “I used to work for one--they ran a bunch of kids, pickpocketing. Thing about gangs is, most of them do some good in their community--take care of external threats, or whatever. That’s how almost every gang started, anyway. Division may have more money and fancier gadgets and a bigger community, but they work the same way. And most gangs, even if they keep helping their communities sometimes…somewhere along the line, it turns out to be about profit and power more than anything else. But that’s not the issue. The issue is…you can tell, when a gang’s leadership, the loyalty they demand from their members…you can tell when they reciprocate.”

“And Thrawn and Pellaeon and Pryce don’t,” Kallus says.

“Pryce for sure,” they say. “Pellaeon does, but he’s more loyal to Thrawn than the rest of us. Thrawn…is harder to read.”

Kallus considers that for a moment. “You know, what we’re doing--it’s dangerous. I can’t protect you. I burned my one extraction route getting Orryn out.”

“All of my choices are dangerous,” Shamie says. “But like I said. I trust Mirah. She trusts you. I don’t trust Division.”

Another moment of silence. “Here’s our communication protocol,” Kallus finally says. Because Mirah trusts them. And I trust Mirah. If I don’t trust her--what am I even doing here.

Shamie also, as it turns out, has valuable information Mirah didn’t have access to. While not as successful as Kallus, there’s another group working to take Division down; getting involved and throwing off some of their ops.

“Should we reach out to them?” Mirah asks, when this filters back to her.

“No,” Kallus decides. “Most likely, they’re another mercenary group. Trying to be another Division, another Gogol, and take out the competition. There’s a slim chance that they’re actually on the level, but if they’re not…Best to stick to ourselves and avoid drawing in any outsiders.”

The kids agree, because he’s the expert, and drop the subject.

He does, however, ask Shamie to keep tabs on this other group as best they can without compromising their cover. Which should be easy enough.

(Of course, Shamie can only tell him as much as Division knows about them, which isn’t much. They’re a small group, probably a five- or six-person team, and they tend to ghost in and out of situations without leaving much evidence behind…)

The other new advantage they have is Orryn.

Remember why Thrawn wanted him recruited? He’s good with tech and gadgets?

Orryn gets a look at Kallus’s setup, particularly when he’s trying to figure out how to re-establish communications with Shamie and Mirah.

“I can fix that,” he offers.

Kallus blinks. “Plan was, establish an identity and get you out of the country, into hiding,” he says. “Which I will do, I’m working on it, but--”

“Division hurt me, too,” Orryn says. “And Mirah and Shamie are in trouble, and so are you. I want to help.”

Kallus eyes him. He knows, just as clearly as Mirah and Shamie did, that he cannot take this kid into combat. On the other hand…he would’ve been recruited for a reason. And Kallus is well-trained and skilled, but there might be something to said for raw talent and an expert touch.

“All right,” he finally says. “We’ll prep an exfil for you, just in case, but it’ll be some time for me to put it together anyway. We’ll see how things go.”

Orryn nods, and gets to work.

And so pass the next few months, with Mirah working her way up towards qualifying and passing the information she has access to, and Shamie and Orryn supporting Kallus in the field.

Eventually, Mirah goes on her qualifying evaluation, and passes with flying colors. She’s an interesting counterpart to Shamie--she’s a sharpshooter and just as deadly as they are in hand-to-hand, but she doesn’t work as well with the explosives and so on.

Meanwhile, Shamie is a very tactile person--if it’s a hands-on task, especially one that requires a lot of detail work (such as setting up a bomb), there are very few people who can match them. But they have issues with distance kills and with the computer stuff.

Mirah is set up in her apartment, not too close to Shamie, but enough that they can meet. They’re in the same city.

The two of them, on their own, are pretty terrifying assassins.

Shamie is fairly innocuous-looking; dark hair, dark eyes, skinny, blends into a crowd. They’re also the most chill/calm person in the known universe, so people tend to gravitate to them in a crisis. And they’re kind. Genuinely kind, in a way that invites people’s trust.

This is what makes them an excellent priest in another life. And in this one…Beware The Nice Ones is a trope for a reason.

Mirah, on the other hand, is much more overtly intimidating. Unless she’s making an active effort to pretend otherwise, she exudes Danger. She is ruthless and practical.

She is also extremely skilled, good at manipulating people, and very hard to convince to back down.

Now imagine the two of them working together.

Unstoppable and terrifying.

And Division (and Kallus) are both aware of this.

So, they actually end up partnering quite a lot.

The four of them are circling closer and closer to closing in on Pryce and taking her out permanently--Thrawn as well, and Pellaeon as a third priority, but Pryce is their top target--when things Change again.

Mirah and Shamie are put on a wetworks op that requires a team. Probably similar to that one prince dude and the museum.

They feed Kallus the intel, as always, and he comes up with a plan to foil it.

But there are a couple of issues.

He needs Orryn for this op, for one thing. And not just as background, on-site.

When he scouts around to do his own prepwork, there are some technobabble things he need handled, but they need to be within range. Twenty yards, twenty-five on the outside.

So, his first priority--well, maybe not first, but certainly Up There--is to plan out Orryn’s escape route if things go wrong.

The second issue is that Shamie thinks this might be another mission the Unknown Third Party may also crash. Since they still don’t have a lot of intel, that’s potentially another five or six people coming in.

And that’s if they’re correct in that it’s the mystery team, and not Gogol or someone already on the radar.

But the opportunity to interfere with Division and save a life or two is too good to pass up, despite these problems. Kallus plans his counter-mission, and they get to work.

Phase One of the mission goes fairly well. Shamie does confirm a third party is involved, but at first, their presence doesn’t cause too much difficulty for either Our Heroes or Division.

Shamie gets the assassination target pinned down somewhere Kallus and Orryn can extract them; Kallus gets the victim to the prepared escape route, and then returns to deal with the secondary objective; the one that required Orryn--some sort of hacking/virus/Planting Evidence type thing.

Well.

So my Art Skillz are far from up to par, but here’s a general overview of the layout of the scene where they do:

...so I can’t figure out how to make tumblr embed it without throwing off all the rest of my formatting so, click the link.

Where things go wrong is when Kallus gets a good look at the closest member of Team Unknown.

Who is very, startlingly, distractingly Familiar.

And he does the worst possible thing he can do in this situation.

He freezes.

Naturally, another member of the Division team sees the opportunity and takes it.

He gets hit three times in that second--chest, abdomen, upper thigh. Serious injuries.

Mirah immediately runs to him, laying down cover/suppression fire at her supposed Fellow Division Agents.

(…yeah, remember that whole bit about her parents dying in front of her? She’s. Uh. She’s come to view Kallus as a second father. This is Not Okay.)

Shamie follows, of course; she gets to Kallus.

They hesitate for half a second. “…get him out of here. I can handle this. Go.”

Mirah nods and drags Kallus back to the van--

--only to find that Orryn has been taken.

She can’t--she can only be in one place at a time. She’s good, but she’s not that good. And Kallus, her teacher, her unofficially-accidentally-adopted dad, is dying in front of her.

She gets into the driver’s seat and books it.

Shamie fires after her, but…well, marksmanship has never been their strong suit, so they fail to stop her.

This is basically Mirah’s worst nightmare made real.

Her dad is dying.

Her brother is missing.

Her other sibling is trapped and about to be probably tortured.

She is holding together by a thread and the only thing keeping her going is if she falls apart now, Kallus will die.

Okay. Time to do something about that. She can’t do much, but she can do even less about the other things, so. Time to do something.

She gets a tourniquet on his leg, pressure dressings on the other wounds, but she’s pretty sure his lung’s collapsed and she doesn’t know how much other internal damage there is. Her training in field medicine/dressings Will Not Cut It on this one.

Now, Kallus has a contingency--he always has contingencies, he loves contingencies--but Mirah doesn’t know his medical contingency and he’s too unconscious and bleeding-out to tell her.

She can’t take him into an emergency room, obviously, but there’s an urgent care center close by. And Orryn’s stuff is still in the van. Which means she can hack into their records find out who’s coming off shift--because there will be someone coming off shift--and stick a gun in their face.

Which is exactly what she does.

She drags the doctor into the van and points her at Kallus.

“Fix him,” she snaps, but she stops pointing the gun at her at this point--she needs her attention elsewhere to drive and fend off Division agents in pursuit, among other things, and surely this doctor will be overcome by that whole Need To Heal thing. Hippocratic oath. Whatever.

Doctor stares at him. “He needs a hospital, I can’t--” Even as she moves towards him.

(Because there’s that whole Need To Heal thing. Hippocratic oath. Whatever.)

Mirah starts the car. “I’m not gonna tell you again.” She tosses the doctor their first aid kit--which is pretty Extensive. Not on the level of the one at the safehouse, but still impressive. “Anything you need that’s not in there, I’ll get at a pharmacy. Now. Do your damn job or I swear to God.”

The doctor looks at Mirah one last time, then turns her attention to Kallus, and opens the kit.

“Good,” Mirah says.

(And then, while the doctor is stabilizing her dad, as soon as she can pull over for a second, she gets rid of her tracker. She has the standard one, in her thigh.)

(And probably kills a Division agent or two pursuing them along the way…)

When the doctor has finished patching Kallus up as best she can with the supplies on hand and what Mirah stole from a convenient pharmacy, she says, “He really should be in a hospital. He needs a transfusion, and should be on IV antibiotics. And I think there was damage to his femur I couldn’t fix without imaging.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Mirah says. Note to self: rob a blood bank. And a hospital. Saline won’t cut it. I wonder how hard X-ray machines are to steal…

“I’m guessing you know how to change the dressings, and how often to do it,” the doctor says.

“Obviously,” Mirah says. She grabs a handful of money, and shoves it at the doctor--she did her job, she should be paid for it; people should always be Appropriately Compensated for the things they do and in this case that means actual money--as well as the badge she’d pulled out of the doctor’s purse. “You can go. Oh, and, Doctor Sloane? This never happened. You never saw us.”

“Right,” she says.

“Because if you say anything,” Mirah says, “I will hunt you down and kill you. Clear?”

“…crystal,” she says, and takes the money and walks away.

Mirah takes a few more distracting turns (with a couple pit stops for those last few Necessary Supplies), a very roundabout route, and eventually makes it to the safehouse. She gets Kallus set up as comfortably as she can, under the circumstances, on one of the beds, manages to take thirty seconds to check for any messages from Shamie or Orryn, and then curls up in a corner and just…melts down.

Like I said Mirah’s Worst Nightmare.

Let’s check back in with Shamie, who is about to have an extremely rough several days.

Because they get to go spend some Quality Time with Thrawn in full interrogator mode.

And they get the works--torture, hallucinogens, manipulation, everything. To figure out how much they know about Mirah’s compromised loyalties, back to Orryn and everything.

When that comes up, they repeat their older story--that they spotted Mirah pursuing Orryn and the guard, and followed. They got there, there was shooting, and they were sure it was Orryn, or the guard, but maybe it was Mirah. They know she killed the guard, and Orryn was never good at combat skills, just tech…

After somewhere between three days and a week of this, Thrawn can’t get Shamie to admit anything incriminating, and leaves them in a cell to report back to Pryce.

“I would estimate there’s somewhere between a twenty and fifty percent chance that Mirah managed to turn them,” he says.

“So, we cancel them,” Pryce says.

“We could,” Thrawn says. “But that is not my recommendation.”

“Oh?”

“I recommend surveillance,” he says. “My prior sessions with Shamie indicate that they’ve had very little human connection or affection in their life. Even we, for all we provide them, have a tendency to view our recruits more as tools than as individuals. It is absolutely within their makeup to latch on to the first person to treat them and value them as an individual. Which may mean they joined Mirah and Alexsandr’s crusade--or may mean that affection blinded them to things they should have seen in Mirah. If the former, they will lie low for a while, but eventually grow complacent and reach out to their partners. If the latter, they will redouble their efforts to prove their loyalty. And their skillset is not one we can replicate at this time--there’s one recruit showing a certain promise, but they’re very new, at least a year away from graduation. Assuming that particular recruit actually lives up to their potential.”

“So,” Pellaeon cuts in, “letting Shamie live, either way, we gain something valuable.”

“Precisely,” Thrawn says.

Pryce considers for a moment. “Very well, I’ll bow to your expertise. Shamie can return to their prior status. Add more cameras to their apartment before sending them home. And I want to upgrade their tracker.”

“I agree,” Thrawn says. “This would be an excellent time to test out the kill chip program.”

So, Shamie is kept in medical for another day, to have the surgery for the new implant and patch up some of the more significant damage from their interrogation.

They use one of the Contingencies to send a quick message to Mirah and Kallus, confirming they’re alive, and that they have a new tracker and may not be able to keep in regular contact for a while.

So! Let’s see what became of Orryn in the meantime, shall we?

And to do that, we actually have to jump back five years, to the night that made Kallus leave Division and vow to bring them down.

Zeb was military, special ops. He met Kallus when the latter was living on extended cover, and Zeb was about to get out.

They met in some kind of dojo/gym/whatever, and had one of Those sparring matches.

(You know the ones I mean. Where it’s like 30% fight and 70% foreplay?)

They danced around the issue for a while; Zeb knew Kallus works for the government somehow, and is pretty sure he’s either CIA or NSA under some kind of NOC (non-official cover). Eventually, though, they get together.

They have about six months, with Kallus staving off Division as best he can, and Zeb going through the process of finishing out his military service/resigning his commission--as soon as he wraps up one last investigation--and then he proposes.

And, yeah, he thought about waiting until he was completely out, but then he figured--there’s only so much time in a life, and why waste it?

Kallus is getting everything together so the two of them can disappear, when the Cleaner comes.

I’m…not sure exactly how this all works, so we’ll handwave all this. Basically, each walks away thinking the other is dead, and can credibly believe this without a body.

I think probably Kallus saw Zeb go over a cliff or something after getting shot, and Zeb found a whole heck of a lot of blood when he climbed back up to where he’d fallen from, and figured it was Alex’s.

Ooooh, better idea--while he’s climbing back up to help Alex--he thinks this attack has to do with him. With that last investigation, which was actually into some kind of Hinky thing that was either Division or Gogol…

And now the building is on fire. And Alex was still in there.

He tries to run in, but the building is too unstable, and the entrance collapses in front of him. Burying Alex--or whatever’s left of him--completely.

Kanan finds Zeb kneeling in front of the rubble, and takes him home.

He and Hera patch Zeb up, and basically explain what they do--which is something to do with trying to uncover groups like Division; essentially terrorist/assassination/murder-for-hire organizations that operate under a thin veneer of government officiality.

“Modern-day privateers,” Hera says. “Only we’re not at war, and these people commit atrocities at least as awful as the ones they’re supposedly trying to avert.”

“We work in secret,” Kanan adds. “Because when we try to work out in the open…”

(Yeah, this is how Depa died in this AU. She started this operation, possibly with Cham Syndulla, and things went Badly.)

“We think you caught on to the operations of one of the groups we’re trying to identify,” Hera said. “We don’t have a name for them, but they’re US-based, with ties all over the world.”

“Most of…most of what I had on ‘em was in the house,” Zeb says.

“So, we start again,” Kanan says.

“But…at this point, Zeb, you’re legally dead,” Hera says. “We all are. You won’t have the access to intel that you used to.”

“I don’t care,” Zeb says. They killed my fiancé. What does it matter if they killed me, too? “I wanna bring them down.”

Kanan smiles, and offers him a hand. “Welcome to the Ghost Crew.”

So, for the next two years or so, the Ghost Crew, along with Zeb, does more or less the same thing Kallus has been doing--try to suss out Division operations and interfere with them as best they can.

Of course, they don’t have insider information.

They don’t even know the name of the organization they’re hunting.

Plus, Division isn’t their only target, even if it’s the one Zeb’s most interested in. They also interfere with Gogol when they catch on to their missions, and a few other organizations throughout the world.

So there’s only so much they can do, and while they are certainly a nuisance to Pryce et al, they don’t have the same level of impact that Kallus does when he comes out swinging.

Naturally, things shift a little when a mission goes slightly less than as planned.

It’s mostly under control--it was primarily surveillance at that point; Zeb was in a restaurant scoping out their target. Unfortunately, one of said target’s bodyguards ID’d him; maybe not specifically as Ghost Crew but certainly as a Threat to their principal.

That’s about when the shooting started.

Zeb can’t get to the front door; the bodyguards now actively trying to both kill him and extract their principal are in his way; so he heads for the kitchen instead.

Yeah, he could try to pursue and complete his objective, except it was a capture mission, not a kill, and he can’t get through that many guards and get out with the target. Not by himself.

He yells at the staff to get down and stay down, and most of them listen. There’s a couple of cooks, a waiter who was grabbing a couple plates to run out, and a kid washing dishes.

Of course, Zeb loses his footing somewhere along the line and skids. He recovers fast, but the closest guy chasing him did not have that problem and is too damn close for--

--or Bad Guy could get smacked in the face with a soapy cast-iron skillet, courtesy of Dish Washing Kid.

Split second to consider the consequences, but there are two other shooters in pursuit; so Zeb does the sensible thing and grabs the kid so she doesn’t get hurt, and finally makes it to the exit. Steals the first convenient car he sees, and books it.

Once he’s pretty sure they’ve lost pursuit, he turns to the kid, who’s--shit, he’s not good at guessing kids’ ages. Maybe twelve? Shit--anyway, an actual kid, which complicates things.

“Uh. Sorry about back there,” he says. “Listen, I’ll take you back to your parents in a couple hours, after the heat’s died down, I promise.” Pretty sure the bad guys aren’t gonna hunt you down if they couldn’t grab you right then and there…

“Foster parents,” she corrects. “They’re okay, I guess, but it’s not like they actually pay attention to me. They own the restaurant.”

“I should still get you back to them,” he says. “Better for you in the long run, kid.”

“Hanny,” she says. “My name’s Hanny.” She looks at him expectantly, but he doesn’t respond in kind.

“Right,” he says instead. “In the meantime, uh…” He pulls off--they need to switch cars anyway--and takes a second to text Hera.

“So I accidentally kidnapped someone.”

“…accidentally.”

“Yeah, there was shooting, had to run through the kitchen, she hit a guy with a frying pan, couldn’t leave her there.”

“Right,” she responds, after a few seconds where he can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “How much of a fuss is she making?”

“Uh. None at all, actually.”

“All right. Bring her here, we’ll figure out how to handle this later.”

“Thanks, I owe you another one.”

He gets Hanny back to the safehouse he and the Ghost Crew are currently using.

Hera glowers at him for a minute, then makes sure Hanny is settled in an inner room before going out to have A Word.

“Zeb? That’s a child. An actual child.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zeb says. “Still couldn’t exactly leave her there. I’ll take her back to her parents…well, foster parents…”

“Our rule is, we don’t hurt kids!” Hera says.

“Does she look hurt?” Zeb says. “Look, this wasn’t my fault. I went through the kitchen, she got involved all on her own. Not like I told her to bash the guy over the head with a skillet!”

“I know,” Hera says, and takes a breath. “I know, sorry. I shouldn’t’ve snapped at you. But you need to take her back sooner than later. Tonight, if you can.”

Zeb nods. “Uh. Soon as I get her to actually tell me who her parents are. She said they own the restaurant, but…”

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to go back there.” She considers a minute. “I’ll see what I can dig up, get you an address.”

“Good,” he says.

“Why can’t I stay here?” Hanny asks, from the door.

“…because you’ve got parents--”

“Foster parents.”

“Who are probably worried about you,” he finishes.

Hanny snorts. “No, they’re not. They’ve got six of us, and mostly use the money they get from the state to keep their shitty restaurant afloat. They won’t miss me.”

“That’s a shitty situation, I get it,” Zeb says. “It’s still better than staying here.”

“Why?” she demands.

“Because I’m legally dead, for one thing,” he says.

“But you’re not actually dead,” she points out.

“I also do a lot of really dangerous things,” he says. “What you saw in that kitchen back there? Ordinary Tuesday for me.” Which is, yeah, a bit of an exaggeration, but…

She rolls her eyes. “Not like I’m asking to come into another shootout with you. Just stay with you instead of the Smiths.”

“Why do you want to stay with him?” Hera cuts in. “And ‘because he’s not the Smiths’ isn’t a good enough answer.”

Hanny chews that over for a minute. “I like him,” she says. “He actually gives a damn about something other than his stupid restaurant, or self-image, or whatever. And he apologized for kidnapping me, which is sort of weird, but nice, I guess? I don’t know, I just do.”

“…that whole bit about doing dangerous things,” Zeb says. “I can’t really look after you.”

She rolls her eyes again. “I’ve been looking after myself for ages anyway. Besides. I’m seventeen.”

He and Hera stare at her.

“…would you believe fifteen?”

Zeb’s less sure about that one, but the look on Hera’s face is answer enough.

“Okay, thirteen, but still. Plus, I cook. I’m really good at it, too. Especially when I have access to decent knives. I’m guessing that’s not a problem here?”

Well, okay, it’s not like they have a lot of kitchen knives floating around, but he could--

…shit.

Zeb turns to Hera. “…sorta running out of counter-arguments here…”

Hera looks from him, to Hanny, and back again. “…fine. I’ll babysit when you’re out in the field.”

Jumping back to the present!

So, Zeb doesn’t actually spot Kallus at this point.

Or, rather, he sees that another party is involved, and does out of the corner of his eye spot the guy going down and then Division agents running at him, but not enough to actually identify him.

He alerts his team to the presence of the Third Party--who they’ve been aware of, since Kallus and his team went active a few months ago.

(It was Sabine’s idea to nickname the team Fulcrum. Since they seem to be a pressure point that really gets to the Shadow Agency they’re chasing, and might be enough pressure to move the lever and make actual progress…)

(Look, it made sense in her head at the time, whether or not the others bought the reasoning, and it stuck.)

Of course, they’re not sure if Team Fulcrum is actually on their side, or just looking to cause Generalized Chaos. Or take Shadow Agency down to take its place. After all, they seem to have an almost personal vendetta against the Shadow Agency and some of the tactics they’ve used…

Ezra and Kanan slip around to the Fulcrum van, and find Orryn inside. They see this sweet kid, assume he’s a hostage, and extract him. There’s no way their team will get through the firefight between Division, Mirah, and the reinforcements intact, so Kanan calls Zeb back, they get Orryn into their vehicle, and they go.

They get Orryn back to their base, and he makes it Very Clear that he was not, in fact, a hostage.

“The people that had you in that van--”

“Were not Division,” he says. “They’re the ones who rescued me from Division, after I was recruited.”

“…I’m sorry,” Hera says. “We made a mistake. Division--they’re the government agents who were attacking that building back there?”

Orryn blinks. “…you didn’t know that?”

“We’ve never had a name for them,” Kanan says. “Maybe we should start from the beginning. I’m Kanan, this is Ezra, Hera, Zeb, Sabine.”

“Orryn,” he says. “…you’re trying to bring Division down, too?”

“Damn right we are,” Zeb says.

“…okay,” he says, and fills them in on what he knows.

Which is, comparatively, not all that much. He didn’t see too much of the internal structure--he wasn’t there for long enough--but they have names and so on to attach to them.

He tells them how Division recruits people in their late teens/early twenties, and trains them as assassins. He tells them how Mirah went in as a double agent, and she and Shamie and Kallus broke him out. He tells them how they tried to get him into hiding, but he offered to stay and help with their tech, which is what led them here.

(He doesn’t, of course, know Kallus’s real/full name--not something shared readily; and even if it was, that might not be the full name Zeb knew him under, so Zeb remains in the dark.)

(Part of why Orryn’s being so open about this is because he’s gotten a pretty good idea of the kind of team Hera and Kanan are running here; he also…it’s something to focus on other than the Very Strong Probability that Kallus is dead, likely Mirah with him, and Shamie, and…)

(On the other hand, if his new family is somehow still alive, they could use all the help they can get. And maybe Kallus would’ve been more cautious, and Mirah would’ve been more suspicious, and Shamie would’ve held back a little more, but Orryn knows how hard this fight will be, and how much they need genuine allies. And so he makes the first move/takes a leap of faith.)

So, to sum up the last few sections before we move on, here’s where we stand after the FUBAR mission where Kallus finds out Zeb is still alive:

Kallus has been badly hurt--near-fatally--and is more or less out of commission for the foreseeable future; not to mention whatever long-term/permanent damage he might have sustained.

Mirah’s cover is blown, and while she pulled herself together after her meltdown once Kallus was safe, she’s still teetering a little on the edge, especially as more and more time goes by without hearing from either of her siblings.

Shamie is fighting desperately to maintain their cover, still deep in Division, but now with little to no support.

Orryn is with Zeb and the Ghost Crew, with no idea if any of his family is still alive, and missing a few Key Pieces of Information that might help smooth things over.

(Yeah, this day went Super Well for everyone.)

After a couple days, though, a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel--Kallus wakes up.

Okay, technically, he’s sort of half-woken up a couple times, but this is the first time he’s been lucid enough to actually process being awake and/or interact with Mirah.

She sees him trying to sit up and is instantly there.

“Stay down, you’re hurt.”

He sinks back without too much argument, and she takes a second to make sure he’s really awake, really back with her, and then, as people with her particular personality and background are likely to do, covers up her fear with “How dare you.”

“Mirah…”

“You got yourself shot! You froze!”

“I know, I--”

And then the look on her face, she’s clearly just barely holding back from bursting into tears (which, she’s done enough of that over the past three days damn it) and he just…wordlessly holds out his arms, offering a hug.

Very, very carefully, she curls up next to him and clings, and she does burst into tears at that point, and stays there until she’s cried herself out.

“…sorry,” she says, when she gets her breath back.

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “And…so am I. For scaring you.”

She nods. “I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

He laughs a little, which is a mistake, because that hurts, but manages to get out, “when I get shot on purpose, it’s generally not this…bad.”

“I know,” she says, then hesitates before blurting out, “Iloveyou.”

He’s taken a little bit by surprise--he was her handler as much as her friend, and that’s not exactly conducive to…but he can’t deny that he’s come to think of her as a favorite niece, or maybe even a daughter, and…

Between being caught off guard, and the pain, and the bloodloss, and the drugs she’s probably got him on, he can’t find the words to respond.

So, of course, she tries to backtrack.

He cuts her off, “love you, too, Mirochka.”

(LOOK fandom has decided he’s a Space Russian ANYWAY so for this AU either one or both of his parents was a first-generation Russian immigrant so FAKE RUSSIAN DIMINUTIVES FOR EVERYONE. Also it makes me smile. So there.)

She brightens and clings again. Very, very carefully.

But he can already feel the room start to spin and blur at the edges. “Probably gonna pass out again. Don’t be afraid.”

“Okay,” she says. “Just don’t die.”

“Of course not,” he says, already fading. “Still have work to do.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not allowed to die when we’re done, either.”

“Right,” he manages to say, before he’s out again.

The next time he’s fully conscious and lucid is just after Shamie finally managed to send word they’re alive.

Which is, naturally, his first thought. To ask about Shamie and Orryn.

Mirah tells him--Shamie’s at least alive and free enough to make contact, but Orryn is still missing.

Kallus, at this point, is half-convinced he hallucinated Zeb--it would make more sense, obviously; Zeb is dead, he knows that, he saw him die, and yet…

On the other hand, he finds himself desperately hoping it wasn’t a hallucination, for more than just his personal needs. If Zeb has Orryn, then he knows Orryn is safe.

“I tried to get him,” Mirah says.

“I know,” he says. “It wasn’t your fault. None of this was.” It was mine.

“What happened?” she asks, and the question had to come sometime, but he’s not sure he can explain. Not sure he should, as on-edge as she is already.

But she’s asking, so he does the best he can.

“I thought I saw…someone,” he says.

“…interesting pause there…”

“A ghost.”

“…cryptic. Are you gonna keep doing that, or…?”

He looks away. He can’t bring himself to say his name. “It couldn’t have been…I know it couldn’t have been, but I saw him, I was sure, and for a moment, I…I lost control. Again.”

I let you all down.

“…again?”

He struggles for a moment, then says, “I told you, before you went into Division…I told you why I left, didn’t I?”

It takes her a minute to get it. “…oh.”

“I only…I only saw him for a moment, and I may have been seeing things.” He takes a shallow, shaky breath, and blinks rapidly for a moment. “But if it was real, and Orryn’s with him, then he’s safe. I am certain of that.”

Mirah nods. “Then I’ll go find out.”

“Be careful,” Kallus cautions. “Division will be out in force, looking for you. And Shamie can’t--they have to keep their head down. Even if they’ve managed to satisfy Thrawn for now--” He starts to get up, because he needs to hit the ground running on this one, pain and shakiness be damned--

“Don’t you dare,” Mirah snaps, pushing him back. “I’ll be careful. Trust me. Papa.”

“I do,” he says; his head is spinning again and he’s gone chalk-white. “Just…don’t get overconfident.”

“I won’t,” she promises. “Go back to sleep. I’ll text every hour.”

“Please,” he says.

“I will,” she promises, and by the time she’s out the door he’s unconscious again.

Of course, by the time she gets back, he’s somehow managed to muster the strength to get himself over to the computer.

“What did I say?” she says, annoyed.

“I did sleep, for a while,” he says. A little breathless, but he’s still conscious, and it doesn’t look like he’s torn any of his stitches, which is probably a goddamn miracle.

(Of course, they are long overdue a miracle or two.)

“I found footage of the incident,” he says. “Target had security cameras all over. I wanted to see if…see if I could track Orryn that way.”

“And?”

He shakes his head. “But I can be sure Division didn’t take him. I accounted for all of them.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes,” he says, then hesitates. “Nothing more from Shamie, which…I don’t know. You find anything?”

“Maybe,” she says, and hands him a blurry photo, of Orryn--with Zeb.

The world spins around him again, just like it did back in that firefight, because there’s no mistaking it this time.

Mirah mistakes his reaction for him being about to pass out again; he vaguely hears her mention going to kidnap Dr. Sloane again; he cuts her off.

“No, it’s…it’s him.”

“Oh!” She considers for a moment. “Good. I’ll go get him.”

He nods; he can feel his heart beating erratically and knows he should probably do something about that--relaxation exercise, get horizontal, something--but first thing’s first. “Tell…no.” He can’t think of a good verbal code, but he has something even better.

Using the chair to hold himself up and keeping as much weight off his injured leg as possible, he starts over to the wall.

“Let me--” Mirah starts.

“Wall safe,” he says. “Keep forgetting to program your fingerprints.”

She makes a face. “And you’ll go to bed as soon as you get whatever it is?”

“Yes, fine,” he says. He makes it to the safe, and opens it, pulling out a fist-sized stone and handing it to her. “Show…show him this. He’ll know you’ve seen me.”

“I will. Now, bed.”

“Right,” he says. But his head is spinning and it seems so very far away right now. I possibly overdid it. “I’m just going to…sit here for a moment first. Catch my breath.”

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I know.”

There is, of course, a slight problem with sending the meteorite instead of some kind of verbal message. One that, if Kallus had been firing on all cylinders, so to speak, he would’ve figured out.

A verbal message can’t be pulled off a dead body, after all.

…yeah, Zeb pulls a gun on Mirah when she shows up.

She restrains herself from responding the way all her training has told her to respond to a gun in her face, because she knows how important Zeb is to Kallus. “Rude,” she says instead.

Zeb snarls at her. “Where the hell did you get that.”

“From Papa,” Mirah says, like it should be obvious. “Are you going to let me in?”

Papa? Zeb had never imagined the monsters that killed Alexsandr--who did the kind of things Orryn described--would have children. “…no,” he says. “You’re going to take me to Papa.”

It’s the best, most solid lead he’s had in forever, more concrete than Orryn in terms of tracing back to the specific people who killed his fiancé, he finally has an actual agent, a string to pull to unravel Division and end them.

“Well, yeah,” Mirah says, because that is the plan. But not right now.”

Zeb glares at her. “No. Now.”

Mirah sighs. “ORRYN!”

Orryn, who heard the commotion and was already on his way, joins Zeb at the door. “She’s okay, Zeb. Really. This is Mirah, I told you about her?”

Zeb is…not at all sure what to make of all this. But he lets her in while he tries to figure it out.

(Keeping her covered with the gun, of course. As much as he can when the first thing she does is wrap Orryn in a flying tackle hug.)

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Orryn says, clinging back so hard. “I was worried.”

“You were worried!” Mirah says. “You know what you’re supposed to do in a firefight! Keep your head down, and wait for Papa to come get you!”

“I know,” Orryn says. “But I saw him go down, and then…” I got grabbed, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.

Mirah nods. “I already yelled at him about that.”

Which is not what Orryn would’ve done, but he knows his sister, so he’s not surprised. “And…and Shamie, are they with you? Are they okay?”

“They’re alive,” Mirah says. “They got in touch. But they’re still undercover. We’re working on it.”

“Touching as this reunion is,” Zeb interrupts, “you need to tell me where the hell you got that rock.”

“I already told you.”

“Not enough.”

“Well, then ask,” Mirah says. “I don’t know what you know.”

“Who the hell is Papa, and how the hell did he get that meteorite?” Zeb asks.

“No idea where he got it,” she says, which is true. “He just told me to give it to you.”

Zeb stares at her, for a long moment. “What the hell kind of sick joke--”

“What?” Mirah says. “Explain, because I have no idea what the hell you mean.”

“He’s taunting me,” Zeb says, flatly. “Whoever he is.” ...on the other hand, that means I’m close…or they know I have Orryn. He frowns, then shakes his head. “But to use this to lure me out…”

Now it’s her turn to stare. “Lure you? You’re the one who demanded I take you places!”

“Because you turn up, out of the blue, on my damn doorstep, holding that!”

“Because Papa told me to!” she says. “What’s so important about it, anyway?!”

“It’s something I gave to--” He stops. “Your people, Division, they took it off him after they killed him. I’ve spent the last five years trying to track down the bastards who did it.”

And SUDDENLY EVERYTHING IS CLEAR.

“You didn’t see him,” Mirah realizes.

“…what.”

“Okay,” she says. “We can go see Papa now. But leave your gun behind, he’s been shot enough this week.”

“No, seriously, what the hell,” Zeb says. “Saw who?”

“Papa,” she says. Obviously.

“You still haven’t told me who that is!”

“Because I love him, but he’s sometimes a secretive jerk and I don’t know his full name and that’s embarrassing, okay?”

Zeb just stares at her for a moment.

Mirah sighs, exasperated. “Orryn, do you know Papa’s full name? I don’t have any pictures, and I don’t want to wake him up by calling.”

Orryn shakes his head. “Never had that much access to Division’s computers, and you know he doesn’t talk about that stuff. …Shamie might know, but…”

“I’ll text,” she decides. “They won’t get it until it’s safe.”

“Like hell I’m waiting for that,” Zeb says. “Take me to him. Now.” “First, leave the gun behind,” Mirah says, and there is No Room For Argument in her face or her tone.

Zeb considers this for a moment.

He’s dealing with one guy who’s apparently been shot all to hell, and one baby agent…he’s got the raw physical strength to overpower her if it comes to that. Besides, she didn’t say anything about other weapons.

“Fine,” he says, and ostentatiously puts both the gun he already had out and the backup from his boot on the table.

“Thank you,” she says. “Orryn, you coming?”

Orryn hesitates for a second. “…someone should probably stay with Hanny.”

“Who’s Hanny?”

“My kid,” Zeb says. “…kinda. Long story. Can we go?”

“Sure,” Mirah says. “Hanny can come, too.”

“Hell no,” Zeb says. “I don’t bring her into potential danger if I can avoid it.”

“If you say so,” Mirah says. “Just a suggestion.”

So, Orryn and Hanny stay back at Zeb’s place. Mirah texts Kallus to let him know they’re coming.

He. Uh. Wakes up on the floor by the wall safe when his phone buzzes. Never quite made it back to bed…oops.

Part of him thinks he should probably correct that, but on the other hand, standing up sounds like Work right now. He’ll just…wait here. Gather his strength.

Oh, right, I should text back. “Fine, see you soon.”

As they approach, Mirah once again warns Zeb that Kallus has been shot, so he is not allowed to get him worked up or let him out of bed.

“Yeah, you mentioned.”

“It bears repeating,” she says. “And he is not allowed to die.”

“Copy that,” Zeb says, though he makes no promises. Whoever Papa is, he had Alexsandr’s meteorite, which means he Knows Something about the people who killed him.

She opens the door to the safehouse. “PAPA YOU HAD BETTER BE IN BED.”

…well, at least he hasn’t moved from where she left him last?

Mirah gives him her best Aggrieved and Disappointed Face.

“…I think I fell asleep here,” he says, wearily.

And then Zeb has a Moment.

Because he couldn’t quite see Mirah’s papa from this angle.

But he knows that voice.

“Did I or did I not tell you to go back to bed,” Mirah says, but she knows it’s gonna be a lost cause for at least a few minutes. “…I’ll lecture you later.”

“Alex?” Zeb says. Whispers. It takes him a few seconds to actually get the name out and it comes out strangled and disbelieving.

And even though he already knew Zeb was alive, he’d seen him in person and then the picture, something about it…he’s here now, it’s real--

Fortunately, before Alex can try to get up, Zeb is right there.

“You were…you were dead, I thought--”

For his part, Kallus cannot form words right now. He just reaches up, hand shaking, to touch Zeb’s face.

(Mirah, in the background, discreetly texts her siblings with an update.)

(Orryn, upon reading the text, asks Hanny if she’s ever seen The Parent Trap.)

(“Because I think your spy dad and my spy dad used to be together. Wanna go join them?”)

(Hanny doesn’t need to be asked twice.)

Zeb, at that point, just scoops Kallus up and, very gently, puts him back in the bed.

“Oh, good,” Mirah says. “Now we need to keep him there.”

“No arguments here,” Zeb says.

And this had better not be a dream, he adds, in the privacy of his own mind.

Of course, there’s a lot more catching up to do from there, and a creepy organization of spysassins to take down, but I think we got enough here for one outline, lol. XD Future developments, of course, involve Team Fulcrum (who keep the nickname because Why Not) teaming up with the Ghost Crew to actually take down Division and shoot Pryce in the face; getting Shamie’s kill switch removed; and then…whatever adventures the Family of Spies might have in the future. Maybe head down to Miami, run into another team of former spies. Or up to Boston, run across a team of thieves…

The point is, they’ve found each other again. The rest…well, the rest is just Details.

#shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes crossovers #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #au outlines for the win #tigerkat24

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bulletproofscales · 5 years

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Could u pls do some 2seok where Jin fattens hobi up so much that the poor baby gets stuck in a door or breaks a chair? N he doesn't know how to feel but jinnie comforts him n feeds him n gives him tummy rubs n jst luvs him :(( ♡

—ok so,,, mayhaps,,, i got a little carried away,,,and wrote,,, over 5k words???? IM SORYY I HAVE A THING FOR 2SEOK. I love this request too!! It’s my first time writting a prompt about a character breaking something (that isnt clothing) so i really hope i dont let you down with this one!!–

Seokjin had already adopted their entire life to fit Hoseok’s size. The large size chairs with no arms, changing a wooden bed for a double matress on the floor, wide doors, open spaces. Every measure to make the younger as cozy as possible in the comfort of their own home. But this week, Mrs and Mr. Jung had asked the couple if they could watch over the house as they went on a short vacation; cramped rooms, old chairs, childhood beds. To say Hoseok was frightened would be an understatement.

In his defence, he had every right to be anxious. There had been a drastic change on Hoseok’s frame, and his parents were too very slim individuals. He knew they had asked him and not sister just because she was on a short trip to Japan, he wasn’t the closest with his parents. They were judgmental enough when he was only chubby but now it had been a couple of months since his last visit, and anyone could say he was now properly obese. It wasn’t even an exaggeration at this point. His face had rounded out completely, and neck had disappeared entirely only to be replaced with a thick layer of fat. His chest had grown enough to be considered breasts, sagging down and resting on his enormous belly; which had grown enough to get in Hoseok’s way of normal everyday basics: he had a hard time putting on shoes, most times opting for sandals, put on pants, or well, joggers with extreme difficulty, he couldn’t even see his feet anymore! But it wasn’t a risky guess to say they were probably chubby as well. His stomach took so much space his arms, now flabby and with jiggly wings, couldn’t reach the bottom of it. His overhang so low it took up most space of his crotch; that also had a little separate pouch of fat above it. His love handles were now big enough to connect with the rolls of fat on his back. His legs had grown inwards and outwards, making it harder to walk or move in general. And it was all Kim Seokjin’s fault.

Hoseok was really fit once, lean muscles and sharp angles. In constant fear of dropping people’s expectations of him; that he was going to make it big, the world known dancer he had to become. The pressure was suffocating and soon turned the thing he loved the most, into the biggest toll on his mental health; to the point once he moved out of his parents’ house, the once extroverted cheerful boy isolated himself from not only his hometown friends but also the ones he had quickly made in Seoul. It was shocking to Seokjin when the guy he had not so long ago became his boyfriend, stopped talking to him entirely, even though he was older, he understood the stress of university. But it was summer vacation and there was still no sign of the dancer, of course, he didn’t expect him to burst out crying when he confronted the younger in his own apartment door. Yet with the discovery that this was much more than just stress from studies, Seokjin felt only more motivated to stay and to bring back the joyful man he met when the boy first entered university and their friend group. So he started hanging out more in the younger’s apartment, most days cooking his own meals for two; knowing fully well how more often than not, Hoseok would skip his everyday meals. And to Seokjin’s luck, the dancer not only accepted them but also ate them gleefully. Or at least that’s what the older could say from the now healthy weight he had gained. His ribs aren’t as noticeable and his every angle felt at least a little soter.; hi mood was better too, less anxious and even more confident in his own skin. Not as unsure, but the fun, extroverted and cheerful man he was before. Not only that, but Hoseok had also started to spend less time practicing in the dance studio, and more time at home; which gave the older the perfect opportunity to shower him with love, even though he was letting loose a little, it didn’t mean his incertenties disappeared. So the older would automatically preparee little details for huis boyfriend to see, from a single cupcake next to a post it with an encouraging message on it, or an ice cream after a particularly hard day, or a full on feast of celebration. It was Seokjin’s way of expressing support, especially considering how hard Hoseok wa son his body. For example, there was a feast with all of the dancer, or well, ex-dancer, when he decided to change his major to literature. It wasn’t that Seokjin was against dancing, but it had become such a toxic aspect of his boyfriend’s life, the reason behind all of his insecurities and anxieties. The older couldn’t say he was upset with the change, rather excited by it. Hoseok, of course was still uncertain but not only with Seokjin but with the help of everyone, he learnt to feel comfortable on his current major.

When Hoseok was majoring in dancing composition, all of his boyfriend`s rich foods would burn out throughout the week; however, it just so happened that the literature major did not require half as much movement as his former one. So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when the younger began to gain weight, barely noticeable at first as Hoseok had the metabolism of a teenager. But that could only keep him fit solong; slowly, and very gradually weight began to settle. Barely noticeable, a soft stomach rounder thighs, but now, it would be the first thing people saw in him when he walked past.

It was hard, even though he was near finishing his major, in a happy relationship., with an amazing group of friends who stood by him; Hoseok still had his doubts about his change in career, especially with the metamorphosis his body had gone through. But with his boyfriends’ help, they adjusted their life till it was hardly noticeable that he was any different to their friends. But that was in their apartment, in Seoul.

“Seokjin I don’t fit through the door.” Hoseok stated mortified in front of the too slim entrance.

“Oh come on, Hobi! No with that attitude you won’t!”

“I am physically unable to go through this door.” He stood rigid as he saw his boyfriend laugh hysterically already inside the house.

“Don’t be ridiculous Seokie! Come I’ll help you in.” The older stood now outside in front of Hoseok, Slim crooked fingers holding fat ones. “Do you wanna try sideways or normal?”

“Lets try sideways.” The younger said waddling till he was no longer facing the door but the house next to them. Seokjin slides his hands from his arms to the very center of the massive expanse of his stomach.

“Ok, now walk slowly, try sucking in once you reach the door.” The older’s calmness was somewhat contagious as Hoseok walked over to the door, his boyfriend was already inside though his hands were still on him, pushing the fat slightly inwards, he would squish and ohs every side that went past the door frame so that he would fit. And just like that, slowly and carefully, Hoseok was inside his childhood home.

“If I have to do that everytime to get in an out of the house I think I’ll just stay in the entire week.” Hoseok groaned instantly finding a chair to sit down, cringing at the loud creak it produced. His breathing was heavy already, he could feel the heat radiating from his most likely red cheeks.

“Then don’t? I mean, you always used to complained how there wasn’t anything to do here anyway. And your parents already left tons of food for us to eat.” He shrugged cheekily “I say we use this week to relax, I know how stressed you’ve been with your thesis on that book..um…?” He gestured vaguely with his large hands.

“Demian” The younger started with a loud exhale of air, feeling the exhaustion from just the name of the novel alone.

“See? You are in need of a break, and you are in luck your amazing boyfriend is going to make sure, you have a good time!” He exclaimed rather dramatically, which earnt a fit of bubbly giggles from the younger. “I’m thinking….”He paused for a moment’s shifting his weight from one long leg to the other. “Movie marathon, blanket fort, and that stew you told me your mom left us.” Hoseok’s heart shaped smiled split his face in half, nodding quickly. And with that his boyfriend left to the living room, probably top build that for the mentioned. The younger would go grab the food and plates, however he had to get up first; a basic day to day thing that had become a difficulty with time. It took a few attempts but he was finally up and waddling his way into the cramped kitchen. It was hard, his ass constantly brushing against the counters, sometimes pushing pots in the process of moving; though he finally was able to not only waddle his way into the living room carrying the huge pot, but also go back for two large sodas and their plates glasses and chopsticks.

His childhood living room was turned into a blanket fortress, which wasn’t surprising knowing it was Seokjin’s specialty. The floor covered with pillows and blankets, making it comfortable to sit on the ground rather than the couch; it was a good call considering how small this couch was in comparison to theirs, Hoseok probably would only be able to fit half of his ass on it. Besides why would he choose the couch when he had his boyfriend already waiting open arms on floor, “The Lion King” ready to play in the tv in front of them, lights already dim and ready. With an adoring smile he wobbled his way into the floor, sitting down with a loud thud and a long exhale of breath; automatically his boyfriend began to serve him a large portion and set on top of his massive stomach. It pulled down enough for his overhang to be completely settled on the floor covering his crotch; which was also being squished between the fat of his thighs which he had to have spread for ther eot be room for his overflowing stomach. He began to eat happily, one hand bringing food into his parted lipos and the other holding him up from behind; though his flabby arm got tired and he had to push himself backwards against the couch, his whole body jiggling violently with the movement.

He finished his serving quite quickly, and his appetite had changed drastically over the last couple of years, so he pushed himself forward to get a second. Though he finished that one at amazing speed too, so he had to move again to get his third; but by the forth serving Hoseok was growing tired of moving forward and back constantly and eye his boyfriend who had an arm over his shoulder and another hand mindlessly on his not yet bloated stomach. All it took was a slight cough from the younger and Seokjin is already bringing the pot near them to serve him his fifth serving of stew. There was nearly half of the pot left, though Hoseok kept up a fast pace until his seventh serving, he was feeling a little full, his stomach hardening on the slightest; yet this isn’t a worry on the younger’s mind as the large kept it’s steady rhythm tracing circles around the expanse of fat. It was on the eight serving where he had to take a break, his breathing reduced to heavy intakes of air; signalling silently for hs boyfriend to bring him one of the bottles of soda, not needing to be told to help him hold it the older did anyways; knowing Hoseok’s arms would only resist so long, long crooked fingers placed firmly on top of chubby ones as the younger gulped down. There was less than half the bottle left, and his stomach had expanded ridiculously almost no fat left to squish; a loud whine made it past his oily lips before the younger could restrain it.

“Aw, Hoseokie, we both know there is still room left.” He left no time for the other to respond as a hand sneaked its way under the tight shirt and began pressing at the sides, massaging the pain away strongly. It took a couple of minutes but the younger finally felt a wave of hunger go through him because of the smell of the stew that is yet to be eaten inside the pot.

“I’m ready.” He stated quietly, though this time he didn’t move to grab Seokjin’s hand with the next serving on it. The older was quick to realize what he had to do, and pressed himself against Hoseok’s side, sinking into the flesh as he brought a mouthful of food into his lazily parted lips. Neither of them were paying attention to the movie anymore, both of them completely absorbed with what was happening. Stuffings weren’t a rare occurrence though every time both Hoseok and Seokjin got completely lost in it; the younger shivered with the feeling of hot stew slipping down his throat easily, warm all over because of their overeating, and Seokjin’s hot breath on his thick neck. A deep brush tainted his cheeks as he panted, poking his eyes open at the lack of food being sent his way, only to be found with an empty pot.

“I think this was meant to last us the entire week.” Seokjin’s says breathless, the younger knew he was excited by this too. They both acknowledged it, though never spoke of it. He felt the same way too, and even though Hoseok did spend a lot of his time eating and Seokjin feeding him; never like this. Not hours of stuffing that left both of them breathless, they both knew the other wanted that, though they never found the time. That was until they were asked to look out for the Jung parents’ house, all alone for an entire week. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad.

And he had been right, it was in this week were both lovers discovered the very wonders of feederism; testing the younger’s limits on every meal which had him on a constant state of fullness and laziness. Tonight was their last diner in the house before they had to leave the house. Seokjin was currently out, looking for all of their orders at the various restaurants Hoseok had ordered form. Not so much to their surprise, they had finished all of the food Hoseok’s parents had left them by the lunch of day two; or well at least the younger did. Even though his hometown wasn’t necessarily the biggest, there so many orders that had Hoseok’s stomach rumbling angrily, but there was no food left! Unless…

He swung his gigantic mass forward and back looking for impulse to stand; it took a couple of tries but with a violent speed he stood up. The enormous amount of weight in his middle almost making him fall forward, he was already panting and he could feel his hearts speeding up. It took some moments of recomposure until he began to waddle his way into his parents’ bedroom; if his memory didn’t fail him, his mother had a secret stock of fattening foods for when she was on her diets. He sneaked his fat mass through the slim door into her closet and spread his knees seperate ways to make room for the giant rolls that formed whenever he crouched. and there it was the large “shoe box” underneath layer wsof clothes that covered it.

Happily he took it, though all this walking had tir4ed him out; he eyed the chair on hispàrents’ desk. It might not be the most comfortable, but he didn’t have the time to clean the crumbs he was going to leave in their bed afterwards, nor the energy to walk back to the living room. So with a sigh, he laid all of his weight aggressively on the weak chair. It creaked loudly but that was a normality now for Hoseok so he proceeded to excitedly open the box. He could start eating now, and when he had more energy go back to the couch, right?

He didn’t exactly know what he was going to find inside the box, though at this point he was willing to eat anything; he actually had a hard time reaching the insides of the box, having to be at a distance from the desk, his stomach getting in the way between him and the food. He let the desk sink into his belly as he reached over the massive chocolate bar and began to eat. His plans of going to the couch being forgotten not only because he got lost on the eating and the feeling of his hunger decreasing gradually; but also the feeling of revenge on his parents. Knowing how much of a pig they would think he is ass overspilling on the chair, gut too fat pushing against the desk, too spoiled to be able to wait less than an hour without food. It was thrilling, knowing how much o a pig he was; he wants to slow down so Seokjin could see him like this when he arrived; but i couldn’t help the speed at which food enters his mouth, he was so hungry. His train of thought had already stopped long ago, the feeling of food settling down at the bottom of his large stomach, in fact he had begin to close his eyes in pleasure, only hearing his heavy breathing and the noise of him biting and swallowing food he didn’t even took the time to recognize. So lost in the feeling, perhaps, too lost, as he couldn’t anticipate the loud crack coming from underneath him. Hoseok didn’t have time to process what had just happened, but the broken pieces of chair sinking into his flabby ass and the fact that he was now sitting on the floor; made it pretty clear. He broke his parents’ chair.

He felt a wave of horror rush through him, the only thought that occupied his mind was “Failure”. He shouldn’t have dropped out of dance, he shouldn’t have gained al this weight; now it was too late, he was just a big fat disappointment to everyone who once knew him; this was probably too much for Seokjin too. What kind of person would want a morbidly obese partner? And like a bad ironic joke to Hoseok, he heard the door open.

“Hobi?” The older called loud voice resonating through the house. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want the othe to see him like this; so hurriedly and ungracefully he attempted to stand up, he failed at first and fell with a loud thud making the floor vibrate as an aftermath. The learning footsteps only made the younger more determined as he stood up after a large intake of air and waddlñed towards the door, just at the same time as his boyfriend.

“Oh, Seokjinnie, hi.” His voice sounded raspy and out of breath, and he saw Seokjin had rushed to him with the multiple orders still in his hand.

“Are you ok? I heard something cracking…Why are you in your parents`room?” Hoseok wa squick to overcompensate.

“Oh yeah I was feeling a little nostalgic and I know my mom had a box on her wardrobe with photos and stuff though I couldn’t find it, I just ended up knocking stuff over… Haha you know me I can be a little clumsy!!” Hoseok considered himself a good liar, and it had just been proven with the dark look that took over Seokjin. However, he could guess what was coming and after his insecurity break down, the last thing he wanted to do was eat. But if it got him out of his parents’ bedroom, he’d take it.

“Oh, I bet you looked great, your fat ass squished into that tiny little room.” Hoseok’s eyes widen, they had talked about those types of nicknames during the week, and HOseok was actively in favor of them. But Now, all they did was make his stomach twist in a nauseous nature. He let out an exaggerated whine

“Seokjin, can’t we just go and eat in the living room? I’m too hungry to wait.” It wasn’t really a lie, as much self deprecation he felt. He still wasn’t quite full. He tensed in fear as he felt one of his boyfriend’s long fingers brush against the outside of his mouth, cleaning off a stain of dark chocolate.

“Even after you stuffed your face while I was gone, pig?” Hoseok stood rigid, he felt another large hand press against the top of his stomach pushing him further inside slightly. The younger’s lack of answer only encouraged the other to continue. “Maybe I spoiled you too much, huh fatso? You can’t even wait 40 minutes without food in your mouth. And what’s worse is you probably are hungry. It’s never enough for you, just can’t stop gorging yourself into what you are now, a big, fat pig.”

“Airplane!” Hoseok couldn’t hold the scream that left his lips. The use of the safeword instantly making Seokjin’s eyes softened, he didn’t barge the younger with questions, knowing fully well this would only overwhelm him more. Instead he placed a cold hand on his round heated cheek. Though he remained silent, though his nerves urged him to know and with the most gentle voice he could muster he spoke.

“Seokie, you can tell me.” He pleaded silently although he was desperate. The younger was looking down, ashamed, Seokjin’s caring voice being the only thing that motivated him to tell.

“I broke my parents’ chair.” He stated in a quiet voice. “I sat in it and after a couple of minutes it just fell apart” As he went further explaining the situation he could hear his voice wobbling. “A-and now, I just can’t stop thinking about what would they think, and how disappointed they must feel, they hate me enough knowing that I gave up becoming a dancer. B-but I can’t even imagine what they would think if they saw me like this. Fuck, it must be disgusting even for- for you.” He didn’t dare to look at Seokjin’s reaction, fear shaking him to the point of crying. Though he didn’t realize he was doing so until he felt soft touches over his long ago faded cheekbones, he looked up startled.

“Hoseok.” The older’s tone sounded serious, stern even . “I could never disgusted by you. You know how gorgeous I think you are, any weight, any size. I- I wish I would have been here when it happened, made sure you were comfortable. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He sounded helpless as his dark eyes searched within Hoseok’s.

“It was embarrassing ok? I was already beginning to think you would be grossed out by me.” He said sounding a lot more comfortable in the situation.

“Well, you thought wrong…And…I get if you don’t want to do the stuffing, though you are still having something for dinner.” The older too was regaining his cheeky demeanor as he spoke. And although what happened had left him feeling self conscious, the idea of Seokjin taking care of him with a sesion didn’t seem that bad; the thought of gentle hands and caring words took over his head as he answered almost automatically.

“No no! Actually, I would really like that.” His words came out desesperante at first and then became shy and embarrassed, though his words caused a wide grin to his boyfriend’s face. He passed all the bag orders into one hand, which honestly seemed to be straining his slim fingers and with the other he extended it fo Hoseok to grab. Holding onto it tightly they walked together through the thin corridors into the living room. The younger sitting with a heavy exhale, the loud creak of the couch brought back memories of what had just happened minutes ago., though luckily, Seokjin wa squickly next to him, all orders splayed out on the coffee table a careful hand caressing his chubby cheek.

“What would you like to start with baby?” His voice was so soft, the older clearly understood what Hoseok needed instead of their ordinary rather more intense stuffings. And Hoseok was grateful for that.

“With the chicken.” The younger’s voice came out equally quiet. ANd no more words were needed as Seokjin reached out onto the table grabbing the dish and bringing mouthfuls into his boyfriend’s lips; their pace was slow and steady. The older’s nose brushing against Hoseok’s flabby cheek, nuzzling closer to his side with each bite. It wasn’t long until he finished the plate, lips oily with grease, though Seokjin didn’t seem to mind as he kissed him sweetly.

“You are doing so good already Hobi. So good for me. How’s your stomach feeling?” Hoseok is only able to answer with a low whine, chubby fingers reaching out to the center of his stomach, where his fingers met Seokjin’s. “No,no. Let me take care of you.” And with a tight squeeze to the younger’s hand, he continued rubbing circles all along the top of the massive dome lightly. Hoseok didn’t feel that full, though it helped to take things slowly and gently. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, him leaning back relaxing enough to have his eyes closed as Seokjin’s hands found each their way to knead they doughty flesh. Quiet hums escaped his lips under the pressure of the older’s hands. Until they stopped moving, and suddenly he felt a warm breath against his ear. “What next love?” Hoseok peaked his eyes opened and analized what was before him. Avoiding to look at his boyfriend knowing fully well the rosey tinted his face would have under the use of that type of nicknames.

“Pork please.” His voice was cheerful once again, which only gave Seokjin more motivation to reach out and began feeding him, still slowly yet the atmosphere had changed; the air seemed lighter and it had seemed as if the chair incident had been forgotten. The older leaned in to spread light kisses over all of Hoseok’s soft shoulder; which earnt as a result contagious giggles from the other. Though he was quick to shut up when the food was brought to his mouth. This time, a lot more open than when they had first started the stuffing, the younger hummed in approval; could be because of the taste of the food, or because Seokjin’s kisses to his body had become sloppy and slow. The feeling of tightness was taking over Hoisoek’s expanded middle, ever so slightly he whined and took the plate from Seokjin’s hands, earning a confused glance. “I-I’ll go one, but, rub my stomach?” He didn’t sound desperate though, the way his face scrunched up in pleasure once the older began massaging his dome was enough.

“Of course baby, you know how much I love taking care of you. Seeing you treat yourself, eat to your heart’s content; it makes me so happy Seokie.” Long fingers groped gently the large overhang of Hoseok’s stomach, whilst the other hand rubbed circles all over the middle strongly. Warm words encouraged the younger to speed up his pace as he ate his way through the second dish, finishing it quickly. Seokjin’s eyes were on him constantly, looking mesmerized as he saw his boyfriend eat. “What next sweetheart?” There were only two more dishes left before going into desserts, so there wasn’t that much choice.

“Pass me the stake and I’ll eat the burger last.” And instantly he had the dish placed carefully on the top of his large stomach. He began to eat, his pace even quicker than before, a rush of motivation getting to him. Of course his boyfriend noticed, acknowledging HOseok’’s efforts with a tight squeeze to his thick love handles.

“You are finishing them so fast, ‘m so proud. You are doing amazing baby, enjoying yourself to the fullest, well fed; taken care of, that’s what you deserve. “ Gentle words came along with a burger set in front of him. Hoseok was already feeling properly full by now, pace still fast though not as willingly. He bit into the large burger and moaned around it, the flavour of the burger mixing with the way Seokjin’s strong hands roamed and groped all over him, sending him waves of pleasure. The younger’s eyes were half lidded, his breathing has become heavy and a thin layer of sweat covered his entire mass. Though finishing the burger was becoming hard, his stomach had hardened to its majority which lead to a lethargic lazy pace of eating. He counted the bites left for him to finish it, and once he did, he was saddened at the lost of not only Seokjin’s hands over his body but the warmth of his body next to him. The older was bringing the two desserts that they had ordered onto the couch, occupying the space where Seokjin had formerly been sitting; and with that he happily sat on Hoseok’s lap, slim torso pushing against hard dome earning a loud moan from both of them. “Your stomach is so hard, you ate so much, Seokie. You did so well, how about we mix both the ice cream and the cake for you to drink huh? How does that sound?” Seokjin’s voice remained gentle and caring, HOseok keened at the praise nodding desperately at the amazing suggestion. The older stood up and walked the kitchen where the noise of the blender could be heard. Quickly the weight of his tall boyfriend was again on his laps as he handed him the large glass with a straw, holding it with both hands as he drank it easily. The feeling of cold liquid sliding down his throat, made his entire body relax. Seokjin took both of his free hands as an opportunity hands caressing and pressing onto the places he saw impacted Hoseok the most, the younger had his full attention as he saw his expression change when he pressed his side or the top of his stomach. Though he found the sweet post once he saw Hoseok’s face scrunch up when he groped and jiggled strongly the overhang of his massive stomach. With both hands at the bottom, he leaned down and began to spread kisses all over the clothed dome, in between kisses soft caring murmurs made their way past Seokjin’s full lips. “So good Hobi, so good for me. You are so beautiful, so stunning.” Hoseok’s face heated up at the encouraging words, motivating him to finish his dessert even though he felt to his limit. With a big intake of air, he swallowed what was left of his milkshake; he finished and his stomach was throbbing, making him scrunch his face up in pain and not pleasure. Though no words were needed as Seokjin’s expert hands pushed his sides inwards with slight strength, leaning in for his boyfriends chocolate lips, the sweet taste of what he had just eaten taking over his own mouth. Their kiss started quick and chaste but grew sloppy and slow, with the only interventions being the older praise.

“You did amazing Hoseok, I’m so proud of you. My beautiful, boyfriend, did so good, so full and happy just for me…We’ll have to get them a new chair though.”

#annon #request #2seok #bts chubby #bts feederism #bts fat #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #feedee hoseok #feedee hobi #feedee jhope #feeder seokjin #feeder jin #seokseok

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gaymirajane · 5 years

Text

the lion’s mark

Happy Valentines Day @jinx13gxa2!!

It’s so funny to me that I got you for the exchange, and I do sincerely hope that you enjoy this, as well as the dumb little edits I’ve added at the bottom. I love you, sweetheart, and I hope this does not disappoint!

Also thanks to @gaysquaredwrites for being my beautiful beta <3

It was cold inside, which was not unusual, and yet both boys were curled by the fire, shirtless, inspecting each other’s bare torsos.

“Mine is way more impressive than yours!” Lyon smirked, and Gray smacked him in the arm, irritated. Still, his azure eyes were wide, and full of awe; he had never seen anything as beautiful as the tattoo on Lyon’s pectoral before.

The lion head was a mere outline, and yet it sat poised, majestic, in deep golden swirls across Lyon’s body. He had a tattoo too, of course, but the black Chinese dragon that curled around Gray’s forearm was more simplistic, less memorable.

These markings were all they had been able to talk about since Ur had explained their origins, sitting them down and talking in smooth, hushed tones. It was rare that all three of them were calm and together, but Gray’s pain had made him insensitive, and he had mocked Lyon’s lack of knowledge on the subject matter.

“You don’t even know what your tattoo is?” Gray had sneered, and Lyon blushed furiously, indignant that the younger boy could know something so fundamental to their society, and yet he did not. Growing up on the streets had not been kind to Lyon, and he had had nobody to speak to, or explain these matters to him. The peculiar lion’s head was a mystery to him growing up; but when Ur took in the two orphans, she was agreeing to take care of them mentally, as well as physically.

Ur stretched her limbs, threw some more kindle on the fire, and smiled gently at the two boys. They leaned forward, eagerly, and she rested a hand on both of their cheeks. She had never been more of a mother to them than in that moment, sitting there and explaining an ancient magic to her two adopted children. Gray had heard this story from his parents, but still he sat there tentatively, his penance for being rude to Lyon earlier. He had never had a brother before, and it took some getting used to. It wasn’t a bad feeling to him, though; far from it.

“Back before our time, when dragons still roamed free, there was a great wizard who had a large family of daughters. Each of these daughters had their own personalities, their own pain and heartache, and he wanted to protect them. The thing was, the wizard was old and did not know how much time he had left on this world. So he did all he could do; he enchanted his family to always be able to tell when they met their soulmate, so that they would never be hurt by somebody who was wasting their time. To do this, he gave them markings that were symbolic of their loves, and as they married and had children, families grew and spread, and so did the wizard’s magic; not long after, generation after generation were experiencing the magic marks, and it just became our norm.”

Rolling up her sleeve, Ur exposed her own mark, a series of deep blue swirls covering the pale expanse of her wrist. The boys had seen it during training, of course, but had never thought to ask. Ur smiled at it, like she was seeing something that was not there; or rather, someone. Her thumb ran across the mark, and there was a redness to her cheeks that made her seem younger than her years, somehow vulnerable.

“I lost my love when she was still young. This was before Ultear was born, of course. They always say that the greatest pain a person can know, but…”

The sentence hung in the air, heavy and unfinished. Lyon looked down at his hands, and Gray sniffed loudly. Both boys knew how it ended:

But it does not compare to the pain of losing a child.

Standing abruptly, Ur cleared her throat, hands on hips as she stared down at her two disciples.

“Right! Who’s for hot chocolate?”

Both boys grinned, jumping up and racing to the kitchen, and Ur watched them go, grateful that they could not see the single, lone tear that slipped down her cheek.

She took one last glance at her mark before she pulled down her sleeve and followed the boys into the kitchen, relieved that they were discussing everything from species of lizard to if they could lick their elbows, the weight of the previous conversation already forgotten in their young minds.

~’*’~

Magnolia baked in the heat of the summer, and the wizards of Fairy Tail felt it more than most. Gray was naked by midday, threatening to peel off his skin just to be rid of the suffocating warmth, and Lucy was pressed against the bar, where Mirajane had set up a fan to rotate around the guil, allowing short breaks of respite.

“Someone… put potatoes on me, I’m cooking, I swear it,” Lucy groaned, and Mirajane laughed at her, but it lacked energy, and the barmaid soon slumped against the wall in defeat.

“Well, you lot are certainly lively today,” Loke grinned, and Lucy barely managed to lift an eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

“You’d better not be using my magic to come here,” She muttered, and Loke slid into the next to her, laughing. The small breeze his movements created were bliss, and Lucy sighed happily.

“Your concern is touching as always, Princess, but I’m using my own magic to be here and see my guildmates.”

“Are you even a member of Fairy Tail anymore?” Lucy rolled her eyes at him, and he stared at her. There was a hardness to him then that contrasted his usual bravado, and it was enough to have Lucy sitting up, giving him her full attention.

Loke removed his jacket, loosened his tie, and began to unbutton his dress shirt, much to Lucy’s ardent protests.

“Why are you doing a Gray, Loke?” Cana questioned, taking a swig from her barrel. Gray protested this, but nobody had the heart to point out that, as nude as he was, he did not have a leg to stand on.

Soon enough Loke had lost his shirt, and before Lucy had a chance to admire his impressive chest, he turned so that his back was facing her. In the middle of his back was a lime-green guild symbol. But that was not what grabbed Lucy’s attention; on his forearm was the outline of a snowflake, and Lucy almost fell from her stool in her haste to stand, to touch the marking.

“You have a match mark? I thought spirits were immune to that, not being human and all!” Her eyes were wide, and it was the most animated she had been all day. Sweat beaded on her forehead, slipped down her neck, and she fell back onto her seat.

Loke shrugged. “I guess because of the amount of time I spent in the human world, I became the exception? We’re not sure on that front, but I definitely have one. Mine’s a snowflake, Princess. What’s yours?”

She blushed, and Mirajane chuckled behind her hand.

“Um... it doesn’t matter. Forget I asked.”

Lucy crossed her arm over her chest in discomfort, knowing the tarot card that covered the majority of her left breast: the Lovers. Two women stood in front of the ocean. Mirajane had seen it, had commented on how it matched Juvia’s, only instead of the ocean, Juvia’s lovers were stood in front of the moon. It was reminiscent of Cana’s mark; the moon pulling the tide, and the meaning was clear. That did not mean that Lucy was ready to accept it.

Idly, Lucy wondered about Loke’s mark. The obvious link was to Gray, but Gray had found his dragon in Natsu; Loke was a lion, so it did not match. She did not ponder it any longer, the heat and the questions causing a headache to form in the front of her skull.

The guild went back to melting in peace, Loke tried to pick a fight with Gray, and the conversation was forgotten.

~’*’~

Lyon, no longer fearing his mark, pushed it to the back of his mind. Life passed, simultaneously over and underwhelming to him, and the next ten years were a blur of poorly suppressed emotions and guilt. Ur’s death, Galuna Island, Zeref, Deliora; he was ashamed of his heritage, but it was all he had.

Life improved, of course, once he joined Lamia Scale. The guild became his family, and he could keep track of Gray without actually having to speak to him. In many ways, it was perfect. Everything he had ever wanted, besides surpassing Ur, was coming true, and whether Lyon felt that he deserved it or not was irrelevant; this was his reality, and he was determined to live for it.

“The Masters have decided to combat the threat of the Barram Alliance once and for all, starting with the most prominent threat, the Oracion Seis. I’m sending Lyon, Sherry, and Jura. If you brats fail, I’ll spin you!”

The old woman was eccentric and tiresome, but in a warm way; like a great aunt that, no matter how she yelled, there was a fondness for. Lyon felt it then, in the trust that she was placing in him and Sherry despite their respective pasts. A second chance was something that Lyon was grateful for, something he had found within the guild, and he knew that Fairy Tail would be participating in this battle. With any luck, he would be able to fight alongside Gray again, prove to his brother that he had changed; that things between them could improve.

He got his wish.

The Oracion Seis were formidable; nothing like Lyon had encountered before; their resources alone were enough to terrify him. Gray flanked him on one side, Lucy and Sherry on the other. The women bickered, and Lyon wanted to point out that the midst of battle was hardly the time nor place for such pettiness, but he and Gray had been the same, had lost their shirts in the heat of their argument. Fighting with Gray, their match marks exposed, creating ice in beautiful, magical sculptures, made Lyon feel like a child again; as though none of the pain and suffering and tears had ever happened at all. But there were scars along the left side of Gray’s body that told a different story, and Lyon swallowed his guilt down at seeing the after-effects of Gray’s failed Iced Shell.

They were surrounded by lesser magic guilds, mere lackies; but their numbers were incredible, and even weak, they were slowing the group of wizards down.

“We need to reduce their numbers, and quickly!” Lyon yelled, sending an ice eagle flying through the crowd, picking up and dropping criminals onto one another.

Sherry animated the trees around them, Gray made shields and geysers, blocking attacks and separating the group of evil wizards; and Lucy stood grasping her keys. She found the one that she desired, and smirked to herself.

“Open, gate of the lion: Loke!”

Light exploded from Lucy’s hand, bright and golden and a familiar, a hue that Lyon had seen every day of his life. His step faltered, eyes darting to the tattoo on his chest, a bust of a lion.

Open, gate of the lion.

A man appeared, smartly dressed, grinning like a cat.

“Always a pleasure to serve you, Princess.”

He turned, and his gaze caught Lyon’s; they both halted. The man was beautiful, with a mane of ginger hair and sharp, shining teeth. He had two sets of ears, which was odd; but Lyon found that he did not mind. It added to the feline sense of lithe strength, and Lyon was surprised with the urge that passed over him, to touch those lean muscles and that soft hair.

An enemy ran at him, and with one hand he produced an ice panther that leapt on him, taking him down with ease.

“You’re an ice wizard?” The celestial spirit yelped, and Lyon nodded slowly, quizzical.

In a second the man had stripped, his muscles defined and pale and so close that if Lyon just reached out--

But then he turned to the side, and his match mark became apparent. A snowflake, indigo, the same shade as Lyon’s guild mark, and Lucy let out a nervous laugh.

“No way…”

Gray noticed next, and the horror that darkened his features was fitting for the middle of battle, but maybe not this situation.

“My brother and my best mate? No fucking way.”

“Lyon-sama…” Sherry blushed, eyes wide, and Lyon cleared his throat.

His heart was racing, heat crawled over his skin; but there was a mission to do, a job to complete. Being a guild wizard meant putting yourself second, and his personal life came long after protecting Cait Shelter; still, if Lyon’s destined match was a celestial spirit, that brought more questions to mind than he had time to answer. There was no doubting it; he had to survive this battle to get to know the man with a lion’s mane, and take the next tentative steps towards his future, whatever that may be.

#ftlgbtales #lyoke #lyon x loke #my writing #long post

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nightmaretyrantvantas · 5 years

Text

Gracie lucio writing wips if any of you were curious(to perhaps be posted soon)

Normal universe writings

She looked into Damian’s eyes uncertainly, briefly convince he was trying to prank her. There was no way he was deciding now, in a locked cell in a mission gone so wrong, tied together and both hazy from injuries, was the best time to talk about their feelings.

Even though his eyes were a little glazed over from either the pain of the head injury and stab wound or the small delirium of his slight blood loss, they were stubbornly determined and fierce as he leaned his face closer to hers. She caught a wisp of his shampoo from how close they were and ‘oh sweet moon goddess he’s fucking serious’ now was NOT the time for her to get all flustered this was a serious situation and she needed Damian to be more focused and maybe a tad more lucid.

~~~

“ Hey Dick?” The thirteen year old’s companion gave her his attention from his position beside her as her reading cushion, the two of them having curled up after a long patrol in the rain on a self made nest of blankets and pillows beside the lit fireplace. The bright blue eyed boy smiled and rested his chin on top of her head from where it was nestled against his shoulder.

“ Yeah Gracie?” She took a small breath and glanced up at him while setting aside her book. She had been reading and re-reading the same sentence over and over again for the past half hour, deep in thought and decided to banish any negative ones right away. She reached out and found his hand, gripping it tight seeking a comfort he gave by twisting his body so she rested against his chest.

“ You’re always going to be my best friend right?” He smiled at the question and and chuckled softly.

“ Of course silly. Best friends forever. We promised after all.” She was quiet for a moment and looked ahead of her.

“ So...we’ll always be together right? You...you wont leave me like everyone else right...?” The only sound for a few moments was the sound of the rain pattering on the window and the snap and crackle of the fire. Dick’s other arm wrapping around her in a hug as he squeezed her hand.

“ I’m not leaving you. We’ll stay together...no matter what.”

~~~

I heard the safe house door open and I looked up tiredly from the couch, huddled up in the smoke scented leather jacket that was much too big for me to look at the tall man I considered my friend.

“ J-jason...” He gave a sigh and put out his cigarette in a nearby ash tray and sat beside me, ruffling my hair.

“ Dont worry kid, my buddy Roy is out there now diverting anyone who possibly followed us. From now on, until we hear the signal from Dickie, you are officially dead and off the grid.” I nodded and leaned into his hand almost desperate for affectionate physical contact. I was cold, tired, and shaken from the thought a silver bullet had almost pierced my heart a second time if it hadnt been for Jason and Roy. He didnt say anything about the way I pushed into his hand like he didnt mention the way I moved closer and curled into his side for comfort, trembling inside the warm confines of his jacket. All he did was ask what kind of take out I’d want for dinner so he could text Roy to pick some up on his way back, as he was starved but too lazy to go out himself at the moment. I shrugged meekly and stayed quiet, soon falling asleep in his scent and already missing my bed back in the tower...

~~~

“ aaaaachoo!” The ten year old lycran whimpered in pain as she shivered under her quilts and blankets, sniffling through her stuffed up nose pathetically. She felt like she was DYING even as the small relief of a cold rag was laid on her burning forehead. She looked up blearily expecting to see the tall grandfatherly figure of Alfred above her checking on her and gave a slow blink when she saw Bruce’s even taller, bold, blurry shape beside her bed. She felt his big worn hand against her cheek and leaned against its coolness gratefully, cheek scratching against his callouses soothingly. There was another hand that patted her messy, tangled mop of hair and smoothed it down a little. He was talking to her but she was so tired she barely caught any words.

“ Bruce? Will she be ok...?” Dick’s voice floated into her ears and she opened her eyes, not even realizing she had shut them in the first place. Her eyes drooped and landed on on her concerned partner who now accompanied the large adoptive father figure, peering around his frame to look at her with wide worried blue eyes. She tried to tell him she was fine but the moment she opened her mouth a surge of fiery pain shot through her throat and made her hack and cough violently, leaning her now throbbing head further into her pillows with a miserable groan after.

“ Im not sure yet Chum...we cant have a normal doctor check her out so im trying to find someone trustworthy to examine her. For now, we should let her rest. If you’d like you can help Alfred bring her things while I go out looking for a doctor.”

~~~

"Here."

She looked up at Damian a bit startled then down at the box he held in front of her. She blinked once, then twice as she examined the white box and the various holes in the side and the neat pale green bow keeping it tied shut before looking back up at the boy wonder.

"Um...this is sweet of you Damian but...my birthday is a few months away..." He grunted and stepped into her room, noting how it was a little disheveled and unorganized with case works and evidence and clues, just like the rooms clearly drained owner. As Damian looked at the shorter girl he held back from saying anything her extra messy hair or the dark smudges under her eyes from all nighters. He did sigh at her hesitance though.

"Im well aware. I just...i...just open it already." She rolled her eyes a little but obeyed his command nonetheless, undoing the ribbon and pulling the lid off.

She didnt know what she expected to be in there. The past two all nighters mustve been screwing with her to have not recognized the scent coming from the box. She dropped the lid to the ground and put a hand to her mouth in surprise.

"I...i found him wandering outside a shelter in Gotham...when i brought him back in they said he was an abandoned emotional support animal that had slipped out the door. I thought of you so i...filled out the papers and got him his shots and everything. I figured after all the hassle months ago and the extra work loads youve been taking on to help out Grayson and Father...perhaps a supportive companion would be beneficial to your mental health..." She looked up at him as he almost over explained his gift and she looked back into the box, slowly reaching in and lifting the year old black and brown Maine coon kitten from the box and into her arms. The movement awoken him and the kitten meowed at Gracie and sniffed her before purring contently and getting cozy again. The sound of the purring and the feeling of the cat's warmth and breathing body and soft fur made her heart warm and her stress ease away like the tide. She knew he didnt just find this beauty by chance, he likely searched shelters and adoption centers for him. She looked up at Damian and happily moved forward and kissed his cheek with a smile.

"Thank you Damian i love him! Youre too kind" he shrugged but smiled at the two as she cooed softly and cradled the fluffy beast kissing his little head. He knew the cat was something she needed to keep from falling into that dark place, a co.fort and a responisiblity that would keep her from restarting that cycle.

He cleared his throat a little and reseized her attention.

"What will you name him?" She hummed a little and got a playful little grin that made him narrow his eyes.

"I think...I'll name him Robin."

~~~~~~~

Young justice au story wips(The main ship for her in the young justice universe is Dick X Gracie)

“ You cant just--Are you even listening to me?” Gracie dragged herself into a sitting position and leaned close to the half-kryptonian with a bitter but playful grin.

“ Nope. Not a word Connor. Im afraid I was much too busy staring deeply into your handsome eyes like in the scene of a romance novel. So I missed every single word.” He stared back at her but snorted out a laugh at her joke, rolling his eyes with a smile of his own. The smile made her relax, feel more at ease with the situation. She couldnt help it, and she lifted her camera up and aimed.

“ Connor look over here with that smile!” He turned his head still smiling, one eyebrow quirked curiously as she hit the button and the camera flashed with a beep and a blink. She lifted her head from the viewfinder with a much more joyful grin, looking rather pleased with herself.

“ Now THAT one is getting printed professionally, or else no one will believe its real.” They both shared a small laugh and she set the camera aside to lean against him, shoulder to arm while she fiddled with the photo settings. They settled into a comforting silence for a few long moments

“ She isnt that bad....or bad at all really. Under different circumstances we would be good friends by now...” She finally spoke up, not taking her eyes off her camera.

“ But?”

She gave a sigh and leaned her head against him in exasperation before looking up to him.

“ Its not her. Its...It’s all the conflicting and difficult feelings that arise when I see her and Robin together...getting so...close and dare I say flirty. Sometimes seeing it makes me downright sick to my stomach and I just need to leave the room.” There was a long silence and she opened her mouth to apologize for bringing up feelings. But she never got the chance.

~~~

“ Dont...you win...you win ok? I surrender.”

The words were resentful, but defeated as Gracie aka Alpha Wolf dropped her staff and utility belt to the ground and raised her hands in surrender. She stared at the tall armed man that stood a few feet before her, the monster that has haunted her every step and shadow since the death of her parents. She stared into his apathetic eyes with her head no longer held up proud, but hung almost submissively with hateful eyes. She ignored the any reasoning against her decision, ignored the sounds of her pained teammates coming back to their senses and realizing what was going on.

“ Alpha dont!”

“ A-alpha d-dont do it!”

She grit her teeth and ignored their voices, ignored Superboy’s warning shout as he started to get up with difficulty. She kept all her focus on the monster in front of her, determined to protect her team, her friends, her pack. Just like she should as an Alpha.

She never wanted this man to hurt anyone precious to her ever again. Not if she could help it.

“P...please...you win. I give up. Kill me, capture me, do whatever. Just...please, let the others go free....its me you want not them...just let hi--them go...” The pleas burned her mouth like acid, as if she had swallowed silver and Wolfs bane.But she gave them, staring into his eyes and keeping her hands up in the air. She wouldnt let him take anyone else away from her again. Not this time.

Not with Robin dangling in his steel grip with a gun to his temple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tadaaaa! A bunch of my DC and my Gracie writing wips! Im working on all of these at different paces but theyre getting done!

If there are any particular ones of these you guys wanna see published soon please do tell me in my inbox! Itll motivate me to finish it faster! You can also send new writing prompts or story ideas for me to write too! I hope you guys enjoy these little sneak peeks of future oneshots!

#Dc #Dc oc #Gracie lucio #young justice #damian wayne #dick grayson #dc writing #my writing #my wips #writing wips #bruce wayne #jason todd #roy harper #connor kent #writing #wips #dc wips #oc #damian x oc

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creemedicooke-blog · 5 years

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me/beliefs

I’m a 14 year old centrist/right wing, and these are what I’m for and against. (No offense to anyone else/my values do not hurt anyone)

ANTI MAP/NOMAP/PROMAP If you have the desire to touch kids, your time would be better spent touching the cold inside of a jail cell. All pedophelic relationships are abusive even if the person claims to be a “nomap.”

Anti tucute and transtrenders Mental illness is never something to ignore so you can have an “aesthetic.” You invalidate trans people who have struggled, and you are inherently sexist by further instilling that male and female is just a “culture” rather than the safety you feel in your body.

I am transmed Meaning I believe gender dysphoria is something in the brain, which can lead to a longterm feeling of discomfort in your body. I completely support those who want to help themselves and will back any trans person looking for surgery. The choice is theirs to make. Even though transmed technically implies surgery is needed, I will respect the persons pronouns even before they get surgery as long as they are considering it. Because I know three issues off the top of my head: it could be unsafe at their age, it could be unsafe due to familial reasons (transphobic parents), or they could want to consider it for years to make sure they don’t back track. There are also more reasons so of course no matter how long it takes, I will chose to use the pronouns they want.

I only believe in two genders. However, I accept those who do not wish to disclose their gender. I mean, it’s your private parts. Of course I won’t force you to talk about them and I hope you live the happiest life. I also totally understand those who wish to go by they/them, just ask me so I know to not misgender you.

I’m not a trump supporter

If I don’t know too much about a subject, I won’t talk about it but I am curious to learn someday. (This is why I won’t say I am or am not a Hillary fan. I actually never got to learn much about her therefore idk)

I do not like illegal immigration but DEPORTATION IS FUCKING ATROCIOUS. Here is the simplist way to explain why I don’t like illegal immigration: Imagine you work hard, and someone else slacks off and recieves a promotion. That's infuriating. But I now stretch this to a larger point, you work hard to make money to leave your country and go through the entire legal system tediously. Then another guy sneaks into the same new country doing zero of that work. Do I think the illegal immigrant should be punished though? Heavens no. Absolutely not. They could have been escaping poverty or war, drought or famine, a harsh family life, anything. And they could be an amazing person. I just think the legal way to immigrate should be made more open and friendly for people in rougher countries. I have nothing against the illegal immigrants themselves.

Anti terf An mtf who has gender dysphoria, a serious condition, is curing herself. Not robbing your three year old daughter’s tea set. Chill tf out, Sharon. And an ftm who has gender dysphoria, a serious condition, is curing himself, not writing “women have cooties” on your feminist pride parade sign and then ninja'ing into a male, Terri

“Radical” is the scariest word to hear before anything involving politics. I’m sick of “radical ___.” I believe compromising is much safer and a healthier viewpoint to live by than extremism of either side. This mindset shoukd stem from childhood with things like "sharing is caring."

Guns and clothing depicting real guns should not be allowed in schools, period. The gun part is a “no shit” moment, but if I could change the school dress code, I would add this rule and get rid of the truly bs “no crocs” rule.

I’m pro choice

I want to better the foster care/adoption system

Anti-anti vaxxers That kid’s life has been given to you and it asks for protection, not to model your ill-thought-out agenda.

Anti incels

Companies should be regulated to reduce pollution, and they should contribute to a greener earth.

If a company distributes paper or glass to an area, that same company must be willing to pay the price to make it recyclable at their plant. Otherwise, it cannot be in that area. This practice will be repeated until eco friendly companies begin popping up all around us.

In a perfect world, an opinion’s value is based on how well informed the person is of that opinion. Not on race, class, religion, gender, or orientation.

Bi/pan are the same, and if you prefer the term “pan” because of the spelling or flag, then alright. But like again, meaning wise, they are the same and the only difference is superficial.

I’m all for body positivity that supports people who have lost limbs, burn scars, or are recovering from an unhealthy lifestyle like anorexia, bulimia, or obesity. Body positive does not equal “oh you look beautiful killing yourself” so I personally would never congratulate someone for cutting themself, or severely under or over eating. I will offer help until they tell me they want to end it like this, in which case I wont force you to do something you don’t want me to.

Abusers should serve for half or more of their life! All if it lead to fucking suicide. Domestic, child, animal, relationship. Abuse is disgusting from mental to physical. Go ahead and block me if you believe abuse is not an issue.

Rape is one of the worst crimes in humanity. It can happen to anyone.

The three crimes I hate the most are MURDER, RAPE, and FALSE RAPE ACCUSATION. the first two are obvious, but the third one is up there for a good reason. False accusation means "fake." You are lying to fuck up somebody's life on purpose. A rape claim can damage somebody throughout their entire life and that's not even the end of the problem with it. You invalidate true rape claims. You think rape is such a sweet little subject that's so "fun" to toy with. And you know what? Fuck you with all of these murderers and rapists and abusers.

Though I am not anti-gun, more control is needed. For example, training, liscenses, harsher punishments to those who obtain a gun by illegal means, and a gun should not be carried outside of your household unless you have a specific reason for that too. Like a farmer, police dude, or hunter

Do not slut shame prostitutes.

Making prostitution illegal only makes it harder for these people to seek help and get other jobs. It does not end prostitution.

Marijuana is not a criminal offence, quit locking people up for it.

Tax is not that hard to write on the damn price tag. Please mark it as $5.12 if it really isn’t $4.99

Gender dysphoria is a valid health issue so trans people should still (and always) be supported in the military.

There should be more sidewalks. And bridges that go over roads with ramps for people in wheelchairs or strollers, this is to reduce car emissions from the car needing to stop, and even better, it reduces the chance of a young child being hit at a crosswalk. Getting around by foot will be so much easier.

These are the most important things to teach in school

-how to prevent stds

-mental health

-why vaccines are safe

-how to get a job

-how to take care of your home and life after you're 18

-the core subjects

-civil rights movement in full detail so the newer generations are impacted by the struggle and where we are now in america

-secondary language

-world cultures

(This is just what i can think of off the top of my head)

You dont have to block me if you disagree. Infact, im open to anyone who wants to be friends. I dont care if we're different politically because thats not the first thing i see abour people. If you want to debate with me then lets do it. Also if you have questions, hmu. :)

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 5 years

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How the other elites just are romantic mood ruiners.

Will (Cause he’s the worst offender):

Reading their mind: This is his worst offense as he will ask them probing questions, and then read to find if they’re BSing or not. Good on him for looking out for Karen, but invasion of privacy much?

Magic Tricks: He thinks he’s being cool to show off all the magic he can do. Really it’s mildly annoying especially when Karen just wants to have alone time with the person, and she knows that he’s just using his psychic abilities.

Acts like company isn’t over: Most of the elites don’t fully bachelor out the league since they want to respect that Karen is there. Will is the exception often leaving laundry around, or just chilling in boxers since he know Karen doesn’t care. EX: Karen and S/O planning a night out when Will just walks into the kitchen wearing his mask and boxers. Karen: “Will can you please get dressed ___ is here.” Will: “You can’t make me.” Karen: “I can start.” Will: “Fine I’ll go put on pants!” Karen: “And a shirt!” Will: “Ugh but Bruno doesn’t wear a shirt!” Karen: “That’s cause he rips all of them!”

Touchy: While Karen hates touch Will can get away with it generally since there is no one else that she trusts more than him. Sometimes this can look slightly flirty. EX: Karen and Will go from playfully poking each other to like slightly wrestling, or like she’s about to go on a date and like Will gives her this big bear hug but like with arms around her waist, Just wrapping his arms over her back while she’s sitting, and like they’ve fallen asleep spooning like poor S/O hasn’t even gotten a kiss yet and these two are looking like they’re married?!

General embarrassment of Karen, and slightly jealous nature: Will is like her brother, and a brother’s greatest skill is embarrassing their sibling. He enjoys this....alot. He also can get a little jealous if she and him haven’t had best friend time in awhile so it comes out weird. EX: Karen and S/O making a few cute conversations. Will: Cutting in. “You know I realized that Im like the only guy who’s ever see your boobs.” Karen: “....Yeah that’s cause I was injured and couldn’t reach my back. Got anything else to say, or should I start punching you now for that?”

After Karen tells the person about her past: He no longer holds back on referencing crimes they’ve committed before, telling stories about it, making jokes about it, or just openly referencing that some of those tendencies linger. EX: Karen and S/O are getting dinner ready when Will walks in like. Will: “Heeeey k bug, so I know you’re having dinner with S/O tonight but like after if you don’t have secondary plans I’m really wound up, and breaking things at the dump isn’t going to help this. I say we go find ourselves a bar fight, some petty criminal, or some way to throw hands. S/O you’re free to come if you want I guess to just stay in the corner where it’s safe, and I mean it wouldn’t be our first escort mission.”

After they find out about his psychic powers: Probably one of the more least annoying ones but if he wants something in a room where they’re trying to get some time away he’ll just float it over to himself which is questionably less subtle depending on what he’s trying to get. The worst is when she’s on a video call and he’s practicing making people float which means Karen ends up as the test dummy.

Koga:

Bad time to housewife: He does a majority of the chores in the league and he has a routine when he does them. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing in that room be in making out, having a serious conversation, or anything because he will not go off schedule and this room you’re in right now needs to be vacuumed. He also will sometimes forget other people are at the league too when he’s super focused on chores resulting in weird situations. EX: Karen and S/O say watching a movie when Koga with a basket of laundry and one of her bras in hand just flips the light on not realizing someone is there going. Koga: “Karen I keep telling you to please take your garments out whe-” He looks up pausing before putting the bra in the basket and moving the bin out of sight. Koga if the person stared: “I’ll continue this later when it is solely your company or at least a better mannered one.” glaring at S/O. Koga if the person quickly looked away and still is: “....hm...passible, Now please take your laundry out of the wash. You’re not the only person that has to use it. This will go in your bedroom.”

Stare of death: Koga is Karen’s adopted dad basically and as her parental figure judges the heck out of anyone that courts Karen. He of course respects that she’s an adult and trusts her judgement however that does not stop him from letting the S/O know that he disapproves of something with a glare of death or when asking a question gives zero facial reactions to let the person know if they answered ‘appropriately’ or not. Also social situations do not stop the stare of death meaning S/O could be having a lovely time with Karen maybe dancing but if that hand goes too low the stare is felt across the room.

Training Time! Sometimes he gets into these.’have to be ready for anything’ kicks while doing training. So he just starts doing surprise attacks at random on people in the league for training. The unfair part is that he’s a ninja and very good at this to the point even the elites can’t guess where he is or when he’s gonna strike most of the time. If you think one of them having a S/O over is going to stop this then you are wrong.

Protection in the bedroom, and another example of his routine: Personally he believes in the idea of waiting until after marriage to have sex, even though he didn’t, and despite the fact that Karen also prefers this he still tries to help her ‘be prepared just in case.’ EX: The two are cuddling on the living room sofa when he comes in with a news paper taking a seat and turning the lamp on. Karen: “.....hey...we were kind of still watching a movie...” Koga: Without even looking up. “Yes and it is 9:00 pm on a Sunday meaning it’s my time to read the paper like I do every night. Besides shouldn’t the gentleman/lady be going home for the night anyway?” Karen: “Actually they’re staying the night and could yo-” Koga if a male S/O: “Well then I’ll go move the condoms Will has to your bedroom after I finish reading-” Koga if a female S/O: “Hm, I suppose there will be no protection needed, just please wash the sheets in hot water.” Karen: “Oh my gosh Koga, no! There is a separate bed in my room!” Koga: “Temptations exist Karen.”

Preening her cause she won’t: Ok as ‘dad’ as he gets with judging the person he also does want Karen to find love, and be happy with someone. So if the S/O has shown genuine care for her, she cares alot about them, he hasn’t scared them away, and they’re respectable people he starts to fuss over Karen looking nice when she goes on a date. Such as stopping her as she goes out the door to pull off a stray thread, touch her hair up, or sometimes give fashion advice like lightly suggestion a change of style. Generally she listens, but also sometimes she’s not in the mood for him to mother her.

Bruno:

Just does not get hints to leave room Everyone knows someone like this who just doesn’t get the social queues to leave. Also Bruno is such a sweetheart so it feels kinda awful to tell the big lug to leave since he just wants to hang out. It usually just leads to awkward third wheeling that he never catches onto. If it gets bad enough Karen will let him know though.

Walking in Sometimes it’ll be for something quick which isn’t so bad, but other times a quick thing will turn into a long conversation since once again he can’t catch a hint. If he has the need to talk to Karen or her partner for whatever reason let it be ask a question, or tell them something he’ll just invade the space to do so. Seriously they could be having a romantic personal moment on the porch or under the stars in the backyard, and Bruno will just open the door to ask if he could use Karen’s shampoo since he can’t find his. Yeah he just sort or ruins the mood sometimes.

He can be loud Not only is the most prone to blast his music but he also wrestles his pokemon like Karen does with some of hers. Here’s the difference, he wrestles, and holds his own against a flipping onix. Once again he also is prone to walking around with music blasting. Once again romantics can get set off by Bruno just not realizing the room. EX: Karen and S/O snuggled in her bed just cuddling and talking before bed. Music starts to be heard outside, and then crashing. Like things are breaking crashing. S/O: “Is everything alright out there?!” Karen: “It’s just Bruno wrestling with onix again.” S/O: Visibly concerned. “.....Again? I hate to ask but in all seriousness is he....ok, like mentally?” Kare: “Bold of you to assume anyone I know is ‘ok mentally’. “

Chore tricking Bruno may lack social smarts, but in no way is he stupid. He’s as sly as the rest of league but in his own manner. His greatest tricks involve not doing his chores. While he’s crafted up some plans to have the others do his chores he has ways for people’s S/O’s to also get in on this. Usually he convinces them that something, like the dishes or another chore, is something that Karen is behind on and how much she’d probably appreciate it if someone did them for her. That’s the simplest, but he has other ways.

Unintentional work out One-uping He’s sincerely isn’t intentionally being that guy at a gym....but he is that guy. He just one ups people all of the time when it comes to physical things. You just benched 100 for the first time? Cool he just benched 200. You try flex your arm muscles? He’s gonna join in for fun, and accidentally rip his entire shirt due to the muscle on him. Again the worst part is how he fails to realize how deflating it is thinking he’s just joining in on the fun.

Lance:

Work Barging While Bruno barging in is annoying it doesn’t annoy Karen too much, Lance on the other hand barging in always kills the mood entirely because she’s always annoyed after he comes in. Why? Easy, Lance only invades to ask a work question. It’s always something that he says needs to be handled right now, or will only take a second, but it’s always something complicated and takes a minute. If she doesn’t do it then he just stands a bit off fidgeting while waiting for her to get a moment of time. He just can’t let things go.

Update interjections They can be watching a movie, sitting and having dinner all together, or playing a game, or anything else. If Lance remembers some fact, news story, or political topic that he recently got into he’ll just bring it up to start talking about it. Even if it has nothing to do with the topic or tone of the night he’ll bring it up and want to talk about it. Sometimes it leads to interesting conversation while other times it just carries into awkward silence.

The Walk of Focus Look he’s on a mission ok, so no he’s not going to notice two people making out on a couch who have now stopped since one of them is seeing her boss strut by muttering something while he’s flipping through papers. Seriously when Lance is focused on something he is glued right into it. Usually he won’t even notice other people in the room even turning lights on in the middle of a room folks are watching a movie in to get something. He’s simply in the zone, and nothing will shake him from it. The worst is if he comes in and sits down still working on whatever it is he’s doing. Sometimes he reacts to the first call of his name other times it takes a few calls.

Just saying the most awkward of things Arceus help him some days. He just sometimes doesn’t know what to say so just says the first thing that comes to his mind. He’s not trying to make the situation weird or awkward, but he just does. Then once he does he doesn’t know how to recover from it usually saying something much worse. EX: Karen: “Yeah S/O is gonna crash in my room to make things easy.” S/O: “We just wanted to let you know so that there weren’t any surprises when I was still here in the morning.” Lance: “Ah I wouldn’t be surprised, I mean separating you two is like separating magnets.” S/O: “I don’t think we’re that clingy...it’s just she as a spare bed so-” Lance: “I mean! What I meant to say is that I had better make sure to have loud music playing cause, you know, giving everyone privacy and all, uh haha-...” Karen: “Hey Lance, stop talking.” Lance: “Good call. Anyway I’ll be in my office.” Turns and just stiffly stomps out replaying how wrong that went.

He will get along with you Lance’s wording of it: As her boss I ought to get to know and get along with S/O to ensure that my colleagues relationship runs smoothly along with encourage her in it. Lance’s actual feelings: Karen is like my family and S/O may become a part of it so I need to make sure that we get along. How it comes across: He is trying waaaaay to hard to be friends with S/O. Like seriously he just approaches friendly but during actual conversation he seems to struggle with walk to talk about and starts defaulting to sports and weather, he doesn’t even watch many sports. If he can’t find a topic to relate on soon it just hurts to watch

#headcannons #johto elite 4

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