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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

#bnha 305 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shimura nana #ofa the first #banjou daigorou #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #'deku. sweetheart. your other vestiges and I just want what's best for you'#'have you tried... *not* saving people?'#only to backpedal SPECTACULARLY when he was all 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT SAVING THEM'#yeah okay guys #you're not fooling anyone #but it's okay I still love you

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binunus · 3 years

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college bf!mj

a/n AH !!!! THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE ASTRO COMEBACK ???? APRIL 5TH ??? WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE LOVES !! i genuinely...do not know if I will be able to survive this month bc of them.

(also i tried to get this posted on mj’s birthday but I’m so sorry a lot of shit happened and I had a ~bad mental breakdown~ and it’s just been rough out here but that’s a story for another time if any of you lovely beings wanna know hehe)

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ tw: mentions of cheating (in past relationships)

→ word count: 4.9k ____________________________________

KIM MYUNGJUN !!

A LIVING REINCARNATION OF THE SUN

this is gonna be so cute i just !! love him so much???

has his own apartment, but he honestly stays over all of the boys’ places so much that...he barely sleeps at his apt

major: vocal performance

his voice is literally honey

can probably sing higher than some sopranos in his major

so friendly, everyone who meets him loves him

mj just has a way of attracting people and making people comfortable around him

in short, he is – of course – the moodmaker

can turn anyone’s frown upside down

he’s down?? for like everything

an adventurous spontaneous type

has...probably failed a ged ed class once or twice before...

he’s not stupid okay! he just doesn’t really care about the classes that has no connection to his major

like will he ever apply calculus in singing? probably not

oh but professors can’t hate him, even if he just messes around during class

he’s just so kind and likeable

loves his boys aka astro

will literally do anything to make them smile, even if he’s had a rough day

as long as his boys are happy :’) he’s happy :’)

now how do you meet myungjun??

he’s in an acapella group on campus

he just has to be alright

he was the only freshman that got in during his first year

that shows how good he is :*

a tenor in the highly competitive co-ed group

spoiler alert, he convinces sanha to join, but that’s for college bf!sanha

myungjun is what me and my friends like to call: the solo whore

and it’s not bc he’s greedy for solos, he’s a real team player

his voice just happens to sound the best for most solos your group has??

you’re also in the acapella group

im not giving a voice part bc then that would put you in a binary category

so soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, bass, you pick love

anyway, you and myungjun were chosen to sing a duet for one of your competition pieces

and it was the key emotional piece so you and him had to be on your A games

you and myungjun were friends ofc, you had to be some sort of friends with everyone in your acapella group

but you never really hung out with him outside of rehearsal

well until you got this duet together

and you weren’t worried about it, mj was so fun and nice and an amazing singer, you had no doubt these extra practices with him would be a good time

and you were right! besides singing, you actually got a chance to get to know him and how goofy he really was

you’re pretty sure you always had an ab workout whenever you hung out with him bc of how much he made you laugh

about a month away from competition, you and myungjun were like best buds

literally a chaotic, iconic duo

the chemistry you two had during your duet was spectacular, your voices highlighted and bounced off each other very well

but! your leader had a little critique

“y/n, myungjun, that was great but...can you guys pretend to look...like in love? I get we’re all friends here, but if you can’t convey the emotion of the song in our performance, what’s the point? This goes for everyone, this is a song about how much you love your partner and would give them the world, we need to show that in our eyes and movements, even if you’re just singing ooh and woah for like 10 measures.”

you and myungjun decide to stay after rehearsal and practice the emotions you guess...

your leader had a point, good singing could only go so far

and for the first time, myunjun was a bit...? awkward??

you: alright so how are we gonna pretend to be madly in love with each other

he chuckles and shrugs: honestly I don’t know, look at me like I’m your boyfriend or something??

you: well, I hate my last boyfriend so that probably wouldn’t be a good idea

myungjun offering you a high-five: I hate...well I think I hate...my last partner too so at least we have that

you: how do you think you hate your last partner? are you not dating anyone right now?

he gives you a smile and like you notice it’s forced?? it’s not genuine or bright like the one he usually gives

mj: no I’m not dating anyone...my last relationship sorta traumatized me I guess.

you: ...how did it traumatize you...? you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to myungjun

mj: ah *awkward laughter* well...I was sorta going through it my senior year of high school, stress from graduating and what to do with my life and all that shit, you know? I dated this person since my freshman year and I guess my mental health got the best of me during that time and they couldn’t handle it. We were planning on staying together throughout college and do long distance but I found out in the summer before starting college that they fucked my high school best friend behind my back...when I confronted them about it, the answer they gave me was that I was too down and preoccupied with my worries to notice about my partner’s needs...pretty fucked up right?

your jaw dropped, your eyes were bulging out at his story

you: myungjun what the fuck??? what college do they go to? I’ll pull up right now and beat their asses, I don’t know scream in their face or something! That’s fucked!

he’s laughing a little: thanks y/n, but it’s alright. You know, maybe I was too caught up in my own problems that I ended up neglecting my partner’s needs...I guess that’s why I’m always just trying to be carefree and fun now.

you: that doesn’t justify the fact that what they did to you was wrong. you should have never gone through that myungjun, it’s not your fault that you were going through it mentally, your partner should have been there to support you and understand your struggles, not cheat on you with your best friend. ugh I’m pissed for you.

mj: I appreciate it y/n, but yeah love’s sorta a hard subject for me.

you nod in understanding

mj: well! that’s my traumatic breakup story, it’s only fair you share yours

you laugh: you’re right. Well I was dating this guy right when I entered college, met him at the freshman orientation, completely hit it off. I was so in love with him, we dated for about a year. And then last semester he broke up with me out of nowhere, said he wanted to focus on school and himself and that he needed a break from dating. I found out two days later that he started dating one of his suite mates and that on the night he broke up with me, they fucked. So love? also something hard for me.

mj: aww look at us both unable to find or relate to love because of past relationship traumas.

you hit his shoulder laughing: you’re such a headass

mj: I’m kidding! anyway, I’m sorry you went through that too y/n. it sucks and your ex is a dumbass for breaking up with you. Do you still have feelings for him? w-wait, you don’t have to answer that, was that insensitive?

you: you’re fine haha. Um...well...sometimes when I overthink things at night, I do miss him and I wonder what the hell I did wrong for it to end so abruptly because I was honestly really happy with him, but then I wake up in the morning and I hate him again.

mj: you did nothing wrong y/n...and if you need to call me at 2 am when you’re overthinking and need some badass confidence knocked into you, I will be awake.

you smile and give him a hug: thanks myungjun...you know the same goes for you too?

mj: hm??? what do you mean??

you: you don’t always have to smile around me, especially if you don’t feel like it. Don’t repress your mental health, huh? It’s bad for the soul to bottle it in. I’m not gonna force you to share your darkest fears with me, I’m just saying that if you feel drained and wanna talk about it, I’m here to listen

myungjun pouts a little bit, he’s really touched?? it’s hard for him to share his troubles with others

like as much as he loves astro and is close to them, he doesn’t share his down sides with the boys as often as he should bc he never wants to burden them

myungjun just always thought it was easier to suppress the bad feelings and put on a happy act

but he couldn’t deny the weight lifted off his shoulders after telling you about his breakup

and maybe it was because your energies were on a different level lately, but he found it so?? easy?? to just vent to you after that

until competition, the two of you worked on faking like you were in love (basically imagining that each other was your favorite actor/actress or whatever, something like that)

it was good enough for the group to believe it lol

but what about the judges and audience hmmmmm

anyway, fast forward and it’s competition day!!

myungjun introduces you to his best friends aka the boysss aka astro

they come and support him for his competition ugh we love

you’re like smiling and hyper when you meet them

...has myungjun been rubbing off on you???

you: it’s so nice to meet you all! myungun always talks so highly of you

astro: huh?? you’re lying, myungjun hyung complimenting us???

and then they start messing and friendly bickering with each other and yes they’re teasing mj

you’re laughing bc it’s so cute?? you can see in their eyes and their smiles how much they really care about each other :’)

also astro, probably jin or eunwoo, maybe rocky: we’re sorry if m hyung has driven you to insanity these past few months of rehearsing

you just laugh as myungjun hits them: myungjun’s actually been like my partner in crime lately, so we’re all good :)

*cue the boys exchanging looks with each other*

you perform ah ha ha

alright, you were so used to thinking that myungjun was...idk kim soohyun or something bc mm chef’s kiss his acting...to get into the emotion of the song

but then during the actual performance you saw him as myungjun and like all the hard work and extra practices and late night talks came in full force and you were just...singing to him

and you notice how...handsome?? and charismatic?? myungjun really is...and the little sparkle in his eyes when he’s performing like...wow

and after your set, you’re just like shit, what the fuck was that??

your group doesn’t win though, you place second!

but you and myungjun get awarded best solo/duet of the entire competition

astro: ;)

your acapella group: ;)

the judges: ;)

alright so im a firm believer that if myungjun had feelings for someone, he would straight up tell them like balls to the wall full fucking send

after competition, the routine of school comes back. you occasionally hang out with myungjun outside of rehearsal

by occasionally, I mean once a week hangout with myungjun (and astro bc they started inviting you to their dinners)

and then one night – at midnight – he calls you like out of pocket and his tone is like completely serious

you’re a bit scared?? like: myungjun...is everything okay? did something happen?

mj: y/n...can I ask you something?

you: yeah, of course

mj: do you still think about your ex?

you: o_o um...honestly no, not really...why?

mj: well, if I’m being honest. y/n, I have feelings for you. And i’m not asking you to like me back or give me an answer straight away, but I just wanted to let you know. If you don’t think about your ex anymore, and if you think you’re ready...maybe you can consider thinking of me??

mmmmm kim myungjun you slick flirty dog grrr bark bark

and you know how he can just talk, and talk fast, so you’re still in the middle of processing this and he just goes on like

“sleep on it, y/n. I’ll see you soon for rehearsal, okay? good night”

like you don’t even have a chance to respond to him bc he just hangs up the phone

you think about it, of course you think about it, you’ve been thinking about it ever since competition

having feelings for myungjun has always been in the back of your mind since then

like did you notice that when you hung out with him, your heart would flutter if he said something sweet?? or if you two were a bit too close to each other?? 100%

but you didn’t know if either of you were ready for another relationship so it’s just been put on the back burner

at the next acapella practice, you find that your cheeks just flush whenever myungjun looks your way

the rehearsal went a bit??? weird?? like even your group noticed that there was a bit of a tension between you and myungjun

but of course, he goes up and talks to you after rehearsal ended and he’s like: hey...I’m sorry if my confession made you feel weird, I didn’t mean for that at all. If you want, we can just forget about what I said and stay friends!

you just facepalm like: myungjun you idiot, I’m acting weird because I like you too. God, you know maybe the boys are right, maybe you need to shut your mouth for a little bit

and he whines like: hey!

but then he realizes what you said and he gives you the brightest smile: you mean it?? you like me back??

and you’re like shyly smiling now: yeah...I do...but do you want to take the next step?? I mean...do you think you’re ready for another relationship??

he gets like serious and he grabs your hand: not gonna lie, I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready after my last one...but if there’s someone I wanna try it with, it’s you.

:’) kim !!! myung !!! jun !!!

dating myungjun?? the best thing ever

the cutest boy alive honestly

he has so much cute and goofy in him already with just friends and strangers

but with you, it’s increased tenfold

even you start to act cute and goofy after dating him

petnames?? bub and bubby

myungjun is not serious about a lot of things, but he is very serious about his feelings for you and your relationship

y’all take things at your own pace and he !! values !! consent !! even if it’s just like making out

he just doesn’t wanna mess things up with you :’)

the type of boyfriend to sing you to sleep ah !!! his voice is heaven alright

will be extra about pda in front of the guys to make them grossed out

and yes you get embarrassed, but myungjun’s too cute to scold

you get used to a lot of second-hand embarrassment dating him and being friends with the boys

but it’s just so endearing, you can’t even fight it

will swing your arms together when you’re out just walking

screams he’s so cute

you don’t really fight bc communicating with each other is one of the biggest things in your relationship

like if a disagreement or a situation comes up, you two are mature enough to talk it through and work things out bc you both already been knew what it’s like to be in a relationship that didn’t have full transparency

you do jokingly bicker about small things though (like think about how astro fights)

but he always ends fights by scooping you up in a hug and showering your face with kisses

loves kissing your nose

just imagine: you and myungjun cuddling and he just kisses your nose and you scrunch up your face and he just laughs and kisses you all over and you two end up giggling

will do anything to see a smile on your face, it’s the greatest sight to him

alright we been talking too much about how cute myungjun is

he’s also a hot motherfucker alright

the most attractive when he’s singing in your opinion

you know how charismatic he is, you’ve seen it first hand during rehearsal and performances

he’s very good at hiding his horniness, especially in public

but phew when you two are in private and myungjun’s in the mood

you can tell bc his eyes just get hazy and he immediately just starts kissing your neck

a very passionate lover, will prioritize your pleasure over his

sex with myungjun can go from being sweet and sensual, to fun and playful, to hot and exciting

by that...I mean that he is down to try every kink and position you can think of

as long as both of you are okay with it ofc

he’s one of the kinkiest members in astro im convinced

blindfolds? bondage? ice cubes? wax play?

you want it? you got it

he’s not into feet though, i apologize to my foot fetish lovers

his favorite position is actually missionary

myungjun loves being able to watch you and to see how good he’s making you feel

in missionary is when he feels the most connected to you, it’s just a passionate position

and yes he’s very vocal, so you betcha he encourages you to be vocal as well

will try to mess with you in a sense where say you two are hanging out with the guys, he’ll touch you and challenge you to not make a noise

and then he’ll snicker and wink at you if you even let out a peep

he’s a tease !!! like will edge you until you’re on the brink of cumming at least 3 times

myungjun has pretty good stroke game alright

very fluid with his hips, idk he just knows all the right spots to hit

praise...kink...that’s the tweet, need I say more

he’s into hair pulling !! both ways !!

okay hear me out...myungjun fucking you and pulling your hair until your screaming and then after you both cum, he’s like: you hit a high f earlier bub! I almost wanted to harmonize with you but–

you: myungjun are you serious!

sex with him would always just be a fun time, like he’s hot and grrr it feels so good but there’s always a bit of laughing and joking around in the process

like he will tickle you before he puts his cock in you just to see the switch of you laughing to moaning

alright but shower sex?? he’s into that

and just the acoustics of both of your sounds in the bathroom?? it’s so filthy he loves it – and it’s easy to clean up afterwards

you bet that after any performance with your group, the two of you have sex, even if it’s just a quickie in an empty practice room or whatever

no shame, will kick the boys out or announce “we’re going to fuck bye!” if you or him get too horny in the middle of a hangout

im just gonna throw this out here...you and myungjun...mile high club

(your group competed in an acapella competition and the flight there...it just happened)

all in all, myungjun just wants to make you happy and feel good and smile, even if you two just finished an intense sex session

let’s get into the deep stuff though, you are the only person myungjun is comfortable with to not show a smile all the time

even with the boys, there’s always a small part of him that wants to just push through and be optimistic just so that they won’t worry

but with you, he knows that it’s okay to be sad and to be vulnerable :’)

when myungjun cries bc he’s upset :( fuck you cry too

he loves when you just hug him and stroke his hair when he’s stressed

very showy about your relationship, not bc he’s braggy, but bc he just wants to show the world how happy you make him and that he’s in love <3

the boys are so happy to see their eldest in love :’)

they don’t show it around each other, but they’ve come up to you in private and say sweet things like

“you make myungjun hyung so happy, he always brings joy to everyone but you bring joy to him, thank you”

im !! getting !! sentimental !!

the day you found out myungjun was in love with you was the day you met his parents

‘twas a bit spontaneous

his parents came to see one of your group performances and myungjun’s like holding your hand and leading you somewhere after you get off stage and he’s like “bub! these are my parents!”

you end up getting dinner with his family and yikes you were hella nervous, you were not expecting on meeting his parents right after your performance

not gonna lie, you thought he was leading you to the car for some post-performance sex

but they adored you, his parents could see how much you meant to their son ugh I cry

anyway, the L word

as you’re finishing dinner, myungjun’s all giddy and just like

“I’m so glad you came and watched mom and dad, the timing was perfect too! I wanted to introduce you to y/n for a while now and have you meet the person I love.”

and his parents are just smiling at you and saying how they’re so happy to finally meet you and how you have an amazing voice and to take care of myungjun and you’re !!! just !!! blushing !!!

as soon as you both got in the car after saying goodbye to his parents, he’s just like: hope I didn’t surprise you too much bubby, I didn’t know my parents were coming to watch until like an hour before we went on stage

you just give him a little smile: I was a bit caught off guard, but it’s okay. Your parents are so sweet, I see where you get it from bub.

myungjun: I can tell that they love you already! well of course not as much as I do, but with time I know they’ll come pretty close

and you’re blushing again, it’s the L word: do you mean it myungjun?

myungjun: that my parents love you?? of course–

you: no, bub...that you...love me?

myungjun: yeah...unless you don’t feel the same way–

you: myungjun! no, of course I do! I just wasn’t expecting the first time to hear it was with your parents

you two are laughing, ugh this man

after your giggles subside, he leans over from the driver’s seat and he just cups your cheek and pecks your nose: I love you y/n, thank you for reminding me what love feels like

you: I love you too myungjun

and then you two are just like sharing a sweet kiss in the parking lot of the restaurant before starting the drive back to his place

do you and myungjun make duets together for fun and post it?? yeah probably

you are the luckiest dating myungjun, the living breathing embodiment of serotonin and love

even when you two are older and out of college, he still gives you the same affection and attention and authenticity ugh he’s just amazing

im so sorry this was late but happy belated to our happy virus <3

3-12-21

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thesleepy1 · 3 years

Text

Spearmint Tea With A Teaspoon Of Milk And A Dash Of Honey

Tik Tok Writing Prompt

A/N: I saw this prompt on Tik Tok and have been thinking about it none stop for the past three days. I just had to write it. It may make no sense, but that's fine. I enjoyed the writing process for once. Completely unbeta'd because I'm lazy and this was written in a hurry before it left my mind. If you see any mistakes please let me know.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdVg7jBL/

Pairings: No pairings

Summary: “You have been an immortal for a couple of centuries now. Today, you’re enjoying a drink at a nearby cafe, when someone approaches you and says, “Hey, remember me? Peru, 1821?”

Word count: 2,578

Warnings: mature, suggestive themes, wump, angst, derealizion, mentions of depression, more warnings to be added,

You have been an immortal for a couple of centuries now; if not more. After a certain set of rotations around the sun, you hardly bothered to keep track of exactly how many times you’ve been around the block. You were something of a myth, a feared, terrified, creature of torn legend, a monster that stole little weaning babes from their mother’s arms and spun silver out of corn! A beast that ate beating livers from stray canines, ordered temples to be built out of bones, a ghastly creation by a bored god with too much time on his irreligious hands. Frightful!

All this hearsay and word of the street, were tall and monstrous tales that were overrated in your educated opinion, when simply you required very little to be content with the ways and whims of the vast, wanton world. No new born lamb’s blood or poor, ill timed virgins sacrifices were necessary in your, for lack of a better word, creation. You were merely one breathing thing and then the next; though you’ve fallen out of the habit of remembering to breathe after a while. There was no shedding of skin, sweat producing prayer, or historically inaccurate rain dance that resembled the pirouettes of toeless ballerinas involved. You just were, and quite frankly, isn’t that enough? Existence is never enough is it, though? You just had to think, and speak, and do much more than simply exist; because no one can be happy with the mere existence of another; there just had to be more to it, had to be.

You still vaguely recall the moment where you realized that you were no longer tied down to the laws of the cycle of the unnatural thing called life; a thing like a dream someone else had and merely inflicted you with the useless knowledge. Still having no need for surplus of red blood cells or hastily made offerings of sweets to the traumatized gods; you recalled the transition and the fact that it was a boring process, with no set of rules, or instructions, or any way for you to fully understand exactly what happened. From one form of existence to a new one, like a crawling larvae to a flying insect with big beady eyes and a habit of crashing into windows.

You were in a battle field one moment fighting tooth and nail with a long sword, or a bow and arrow, or a scythe from your own garden, or a hatchet from your home; and the next, you watched your substantially short life flash before your eyes; when ebbingly, you realized that your wounds had closed up and the battle had unbeknown to you, ended. Something over nineteen years after your self assumed death, that is. Your body; with its two legs, two arms, two ears, and two perfectly functioning eyes; as long as it wasn’t pollen season, were still by fair means or foul, in tack. Much to your dismay, for you still felt cursed plague such as irritation, displeasurement, the action of rolling your eyes as an emotion, annoyance, exasperation, and worst of all a hankering for spearmint tea with a teaspoon of milk and a dash of honey. Unfortunately, only one of which was curable.

And while you contained a great many vapid opinions of the flutterings of wingless avians; one of their creations you could never develop a disdain for, for they were simply far too grand, great, and good, were cafes. Magnificent things created by an italian man, a french man, a german man, an Englishman, or a combination of the four, you hardly cared; were the very reason you still wished to see the light of day. Candidly, the comfort that came with cafes; roasting coffee beans with such sharp and acidic aromas, the tinkering of ceramic mugs with adorable little glazes, scrumptious sweeties and colorful pasties that settled against your mind like ringing gunshots to war torn innocent unimpeachables. Cafes were just delightful, there were no two ways about it; an unassailable fact.

That was why, today; sunny, cloudless, and boundless today with skies as blue as incest mutated eyes, you were enjoying a nostalgic drink at a nearby cafe. The coffee house was a mix between modern and vintage, though for a creature such as yourself, you could hardly tell the difference. Their teas and coffees, and assortment of beverages were made in the classic fashion from even as far back as your day, and that was saying something. The walls were painted with a deep maroon, a shade of fine wine on a brick of vinegar; except one, which was left a bare, textured concrete with growing vines and dangling fairy lights the color of loose leaf chamomile offering a soothing dim lighting. The tables and chairs and any sort of decor hung up on the ways were mismatched, not one thing belonging to another; not one round mahogany table with spanish carved to the legs matched with any neon cushioned seats that looked like something from a feverish dream. Four paned windows were like eyes towards the street front, small enough to see outside but with an air of privacy from the delicate handmade lace curtains that were tied up with a sash of the same design. You could see the wayward world beyond the door from the faux safety of your table; couples biking with helmets strapped on too tightly, dog walkers with malnourished dogs, and a quartet of friends that were so obviously in love with one another.

Their love for each other was so clear, the baristas behind the repurposed bar counter were making bets on who would be the first to cave and spill out their love like guts from a deep heat, blistering sword wound. The barista with dyed gray cornrows and nose piercings betted ten pounds on the tallest of the quartet, who couldn’t stop playing with something in his pocket; a nervous reaction to being around the people of his affections if you had to guess. The barista with the rigid scars falling like uncrossed tallies down her arms betted twenty pounds on the shortest of the quartet who seemed to be the glue holding the quartet together in the first place. You personally betted on the fellow trailing the group from behind, a brother of one of the quartet members; from the shared features, and an ex lover of another if you had to predict from the way he walked and looked at them with an unhealthy yearning. He was going to pull them apart and in return be left with nothing as they rebuilt what he had destroyed. You had an intuition for these sorts of things, the passing lives of strangers and what they decided to do with themselves with their limited time. It was game to you, their lives seemed to end in days like a good book that you can’t set down; and like a book, you could flip it close at any given time with a flick of your wrist.

Your attention was drawn back to the present by the sound of the cafe bell that rang out through the small room with high ceilings, the simple pulley system alerting the baristas and yourself of a new occupant. Your hand instinctively wrapped around your cup of spearmint tea with a teaspoon of milk and a dash of honey protectively. The heated ceramic warmed your otherwise cold skin, your whole body was icy to the touch; you had no need for impractical things like a respiratory system or body heat; they were merely things you did when you remembered to, a delayed afterthought.

Like socialization for one, speaking to others was not your cup of tea; quick compliments and orders were one thing, however holding conversations were another. You sat alone at your seat, a red velvet cushioned sofa pulled up against a square oak table. Not once have you attempted to make conversation or even make eye contact with any of your fellow cafe goers; when you know for a fact that you would have gotten along swimmingly, only you’re too afraid of starting anything that’s doomed to end. The immortal existence was a long one and it tended to feel more drawn out when you had no one to spend it with.

Too deep in thoughts; the depressing thing the living chose to lose themselves in; a subject that you have yet to be rid of, you didn’t notice when someone approached your table. Whoever stood in front of you stared at you for a moment as if to make sure you were real, something you had to do for yourself every now and again, before saying in an astonished tone full of life, “Hey, you look familiar. I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I?” You looked up to meet their eyes; taking note of a face that could blend in during any time period, during any moment; a dime a dozen, a face that could be recognized for hundreds of others. “Remember me? Peru, 1821?”

You were hard of memory despite the centuries of existence in your pocket; unable to ever recall important dates and places, or those deemed important by those who still pondered what after truly meant. No wars that had cost thousands if not millions of lives lingered in your narrow mind, no treaties that had never been written in the blood of the man holding the pen; no discoveries stolen from their true inventors and instead repurposed and rebranded. Naught of which mattered; were paramount enough to be stored in the file cabinets so old, they perhaps predated the university of oxford. Those with an expiration date, nitpicked which dates and places were worth keeping record of; which war really mattered to one side, but not the other, and most definitely not the third party who lost the most in terms of wealth during the whole skirmish. Which treaties were worth putting up an act of righteousness and which were lit to ashes the moment the feather left the parchment. Which discoveries to credit the inventor, or the distributor, or the man with the large enough pockets with lots of loyal friends with not quite, but still ever so deep pockets. You cared little for the whims of those who philosophized and wrote the inaccurate, hyperbolized tales of the lawless, anarchic children with graying hair, wrinkled skin, and groaning bones.

Instead, your quite narrow, yet wrinkled mind remembered the seemingly dull things in life that only an immortal and tired soul would recall. You remembered the estonian woman with thick curly hair who flustered when you commented on how her fetching silk blouse brought out the brown in her eyes, as if you had just seen her on your way here. You remembered the blazing, aged guinean sailor with hair as red as sedimentary clay layered with crimson and bone marrow, who tricked you out of the very last shining coin in your pocket that you had saved to return to the mainland; as if you had just spoken to him the week before last. You remembered the french street performers who gave you the most complexing, suspicious looks when you loitered as they tuned their instruments, your hands clapping and tossing coins into their open cases before they had even the chance to play their trip the light fantastic ditty; as if you had spotted them as you left your home for the day; perhaps because you had just spotted the cellist, violinist, and fiddler some hours prior.

But you just can’t seem to recall ever seeing the face in front of you besides that of the paintings reusing the same model over and over again. This person was familiar, that you knew for sure, but you couldn’t recall exactly where. 1821? Peru? You had gone to Peru before, you thought, you must’ve been everyone on the pandering planet at least once by now; statistically speaking. You existed during 1821, though you don’t recall much from the time besides some man being crowned king of some small islands, some paintings being painted, some lives being born, and some lives taking their last breath. Things that could have happened anywhere else in the woebegone world, during any time that your breathing counterparts inhaled and exhaled; a simple date and simple country rang no bells.

This person that approached you, must have known you, having recognized you and walked up to you free of will. Yet, as you stared at them, pondering how they must’ve known you after all these years, decades, and centuries without a mere mention of another immortal roaming the weak world; here you were, with another person just like you. It was astonishing, made your non beating heart skip a beat and stop again; because you’ve been so out of practice. It was almost unbelievable; a person with a limited mind would have fallen heart first into the claims and thought of them as gospel. You were not as blessed with the same ignorance that came as second nature to the rest of the parasitic population, because you recalled your trips to Peru; suddenly remembering just what you got yourself into in the year of 1821; you would have memorized a face like dozens of others; the similarities causing the sameness to be abstract. You would not have forgotten a face like that, a voice of naïve wonderment like the one you just heard. Immortality was not just something that was thrown like a swear, caught like a flu; there was no rhyme or reason to it. You would know; in the almost eight billion people in the wide, withering world you have not met another like you, and for this day, today; radiated, and diaphanous day with skies as blue as hypothermia stricken bodies; you were alone and had yet, still yet, to be proven otherwise.

You solemnly shook your head, having gotten your hopes up so far beyond the atmosphere; falling back down was misery like the first moment immortality had dawned upon you. This person must’ve mistaken you for someone else; a picture book with pages too bright to warrant your attention, a history book that pictured a person that shared your features or that of your long gone siblings who must have children because they were the type to yearn, and hope, dream, and live their lives instead of solely subsist; anyone but you. For you were alone on this endless path, just like how your life was now boundless, and had been for a while longer than you can remember. You cleared your throat, your voice unfortunately grating from years of hardly any use; hoping to make the interaction quick and to the point; something that was truthful and that would cut this painful conversation short so you could return to your envy filled hobby of assuming other individual’s lives because they had indisputable ends while you repeated in this endless pastime.

The person who claimed to share a curse with you, had a voice that rang out like a fencing rapier, cutting through the air with such precision that it hurt without even slashing against you; could stab you with words instead of metal, “I’ve seen you somewhere, haven’t I? Remember me? Peru, 1821?” And like a fencer running on the necessity for revenge for someone that wasn’t himself, you answered,

“No, I do gay porn.”

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

I just thought about this

Do you think the Clan cats might ever have some form of PTSD from eather witnessing another cats death in any form like in battle or another disaster or even killing another cat themselves

I really do want to expand on this

okay matthew from the end of this post here it turns out i have a lot of thoughts and talked for like, almost 2k words about this. sorry. there's a tldr at the end.

hmmmmm

my official answer is, "sure, anything is possible, especially if you want to explore that."

my more rambly answer is...kind of.

we're just going to jump straight in with serious cat talk here, but cats? those mofos are killing machines. they are highly efficient hunters. kind of like people and creating things.

on the other hand, cats are also huge cowards who don't like to fight. hence cat and mouse: the cat doesn't want to go in for the kill unless they're sure they can execute it.

i like to think of them as a very krav maga idea: "we don't fight unless we absolutely have to, but once we go in, we go all in."

so...on one hand, "do cats experience ptsd from killing each other?" feels kind of like asking, "do humans experience ptsd from making things?", and yet, that's clearly extremely reductive.

it's also worth talking about what ptsd is. it's easy to think of ptsd as equivalent to trauma, but it's not.

trauma is, well, traumatic events, ptsd is one possible response. most people who experience trauma do not develop ptsd.

(there's also c-ptsd, but i'm getting to that.)

ptsd is, basically, an overactive adrenaline response, basically. it can look similar to depression and anxiety, but it's not the same. things like flashbacks and triggers are not exclusive to ptsd, or even any specific mental illness. it's normal to experience ptsd-like symptoms after a traumatic event. that's a traumatic response.

ptsd is, instead, the unhealthy extension of that, in time, and possibly severity.

before i go any farther, i just want to say, this is not to say you need to have ptsd to have trauma, that you can't have ptsd/trauma if XYZ, etc., so please, give me the benefit of the doubt here. it's always tricky to word these things in a way that is both clear about what i mean and not harming people.

mental illness is always a tricky subject. trying to fit a sum of many symptoms into boxes will never work, but i am going to lean on it as a tool to categorize and discuss experiences in a general sense.

i also want to mention c-ptsd, or "complex post-traumatic stress disorder." this is a debated diagnosis, in that where it fits into mental illness boxes is argued and it's yet to be included in the dsm, but for now, it's sufficient to think of it as ptsd's fraternal twin.

c-ptsd develops when trauma is prolonged, and there's little/no chance of escape. think kidnappings and child abuse.

it shares a lot of symptoms with ptsd, but it has its own unique cluster of symptoms, especially surrounding relationship issues.

right. we can rule that off for things cats typically experience from battle. but i still want to talk about it.

but ptsd is in reference to human reactions to trauma, which is fine! all warrior cats are at least a little anthropomorphised, or it wouldn't be fun to read about.

okay, before i lose the thread, circling back to my point, the conditions for ptsd are a prolonged response to a traumatic event. i, personally, don't think that your everyday warrior is going to experience this. some amount of battle is normal for cats, yeah?

but i do think ptsd/ptsd-like conditions are quite possible. i'm going to move into a discussion of various characters, now, and i'll put that under a read more.

okay, let's examine a few different cats, starting with mudfur.

why mudfur? because he chooses to be a medicine cat specifically because the battles of being a warrior are too much for him. does this mean he's experiencing ptsd? no, i don't think so. we never see any indication of him having flashbacks or hypervigilance. mind, i have

okay sorry you uh

i took a break to read mothwing's secret

see i've been putting it off bc i knew it was going to make me feel things and lord it did

phew

well i was going to talk about mothwing but first, back to mudfur

i can now confirm that we don't see any evidence of ptsd in him. trauma, maybe, but not ptsd.

which...checks.

next cat, ivypool.

but my ivypool, not canon ivypool, because i gave ivypool ptsd.

if you haven't read it, hedera helix is my canon compliant ivypool series, and you can get the Deets there, but i think "fair is the night" is the piece to focus on here. specifically,

The dark is the same, and the heat, and the way she slinks through the shadows, trying not to take notice. The way every pawstep is echoingly loud, and how she can't catch her breath or find her thoughts over the noise. All that's missing is.

Him.

Maybe Ivypool does still dream.

She hisses, her belt bristling, tail lashing, and raises her paw, claws extended.

what's going on here is that she mistakes tigerheart for hawkfrost.

yes, she has ptsd.

she also has c-ptsd in my writing, but i don't want to talk about this at the moment, because ivypool is complex, and i don't feel like bringing dovewing into this. but no, this is her having ptsd from her (dark forest) mentor trying to kill her. a cat she, at least on some level, trusted turning on her and attempting to kill her.

so for ivypool, it's the unexpected that traumatizes her.

which i think makes sense: cats don't generally expect to be attacked by those they trust. which leads me into...

character three: bluestar.

now, bluestar is complex because of the dementia, but i think it's pretty easy to say: tigerclaw (a cat she trusts) betrays her, she gets hypervigilant and stops trusting people.

i'm deliberately going short on this because i'm at almost a thousand words and uh,, i just want to talk about mothwing.

mothwing. my baby. my beloved. my beautiful.

fuuuuck okay so i should not have read mothwing's secret because this is going to turn into me writing mostly about that, but i actually knew 90% of what was contained in it through moonkitti videos + doing research for various mothwing related projects.

i think the only thing i learned was the moonkitti scene about bees is actually completely canonical, as written, and that it was possible for me to love mothwing more than i already do.

usually, i'd want to also talk about willowshine, but i'm going to keep my focus on mothwing. willow my love is going to come up, but i'm keeping my focus tight.

mothwing! onto my purpose: mothwing and c-ptsd and religious trauma.

she will get her own essay i have a document titled "mothwing and religious trauma" but with trope-bingo i've been writing the essays less, so bear with me.

anyway. i'm not waffling, i'm just trying to set up a good starting point so i don't ramble past the purpose. and i think...the scene with mudfur and mothwing near the end is what i'm honing in on. (spoilers, duh, but also, you don't need to have read it.)

so mudfur comes to mothwing after the battle, and she turns him away. he doesn't understand, but i do.

religion has been used against mothwing her entire life. her clan used it (inadvertently) to keep her from her purpose, hawkfrost used it to maintain his control over her, and mistystar used it to again keep her from her purpose and passion. (and yes, i have strong feelings about what this does to willowshine, but i'm trying to stay on-topic.)

and then, the first tangible proof she has of starclan is the dark forest. and her brother. attacking the nursery. and her.

and then mudfur has the audacity to say, "yeah sorry we don't know anything! but like why are you still rejecting us?"

(makes me want to rewrite the ending of "if you love me any, let me know it now" actually, i'm angry. not going to, but i want to.)

adfskjl mothwing is my new purpose for existing. i may actually consider changing my blog title from "in this house we lovewing dovewing" to something mothwing themed. i love her. expect a mothwing focus sometime soon-ish.

right, so, i don't think mothwing's perspective needs to be explained here. but...she is very self-aware of her position. she struggles with it. she doesn't want to talk to willowshine about her beliefs — she's grateful when willowpaw just accepts it and doesn't discuss it with her.

mothwing as a character has always been appealing to me. but. again, trying to keep focused, her brother is manipulative and cruel.

(i'm not saying abusive because i don't know if he really is. i'd want to do a proper analysis for that, not just ramble in a blank document for a while. he's toxic, but i try to reserve abusive for abusive characters. i think he is, but i don't know how i would defend that, ergo, i'm avoiding it for now.)

just. her whole life.

she spends a long time trusting others, looking to starclan for answer and salvation, and it keeps letting her down, and others keep using it against her, like a weapon. there's a lot to mothwing, but i'm really trying to stay on topic.

before i get to my closing arguments, some honorable mentions for characters i didn't talk about, but could have:

squirrelflight

feathertail, stormfur, and mistyfoot

dovewing

briarlight. okay she's such a good honorable mention i just have to explore this for a second, but the scene in bramblestar's storm where she's afraid of falling trees is good. i don't know, she seems fairly functional, but she's definitely not "over it."

anyone captured by twolegs.

tawnypelt

bramblestar. before you gasp, he too trained in the dark forest and was manipulated by hawkfrost and tigerstar.

probably a lot more.

so anyway, if you hung around for nearly 2k words to listen to me talk about cat trauma, here's my closing statement:

i think ptsd in clan cats is definitely going to be a thing, but i think, more often than not, it's not going to come from the battle. we looked at several examples where the incident happened during a battle, but i think it's the betrayal that's more shocking than the actual fighting.

i didn't address ptsd from cats killing each other, other than mudfur, and that's...frankly that's because i don't know. it is very hard for me to sympathize with those characters long enough to think critically about it.

like, i can write villain pov, but i don't think i can actually say, "what if XYZ feels bad for killing someone?" even if i was going to write about like, firestar killing scourge, i don't think i could.

not in this context, anyway.

similarly, i think a lot of what we'll see is trauma. cats are already extremely vigilant, and while it's possible to get hypervigilant cats, i'm not sure how often it's going to come out. cats are good at hiding physical pain, ipso facto, i imagine they're good at hiding emotional pain.

which isn't to say that they...you know what? you know what? if you want to come argue with me about human ptsd, you can do that on my main. but i'm talking about cats, and i say that they probably don't experience ptsd because they probably shove away a lot of the external symptoms, and that's mostly how we identify ptsd. this is not an end-all be-all, nor does it apply to people, but i don't know how to begin couching this, and i'm tired.

alright, well...

tl/dr: yes, trauma and maybe ptsd occur in clan cats, but i think it's more likely to be from betrayal than fighting.

dkjl this was a lot if u have follow up qs or just wanna discuss this my ask box is open! <3

#ask #anon #mine #essay #trauma #ptsd

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Note

Have you seen Linkara's review of The Dark Knight Returns? He goes into why the view of Robin as a soldier, popularized but by no means invented by Miller, is so dangerous.

I have not, but I need to refresh my memory before I go check it out because I’ll either agree with it or be infuriated by it and I can’t remember which just at the moment but would like to before I restart that argument ten years later.

LOL, so like, I knew Linkara yeeears and years ago. We were both regular posters on Gail Simone’s messageboard on CBR like fifteen years ago, maybe longer. Pretty sure we even met in person a couple times at Gail’s annual SDCC breakfast meetups, but not sure. I do know for sure though that he and I were both involved in a three way argument about this very topic with another guy.....I just can not remember if he was the one who agreed with me or the one we were both fighting with about it, LOL. I THINK we were in agreement as while I wasn’t like.....as pro-DC as most YABSers were given that it was Gail’s board and I mostly hung out at the X-boards and just swung by YABS once a week or so BECAUSE I couldn’t stand all the ass-kissing that went on at that board so that DC writers and artists would hang out and post regularly, LOL, like I’m pretty sure I remember Link as being one of the less....vehement of the pro-DC camp.

(Tbh, one of the biggest ways in which I disagreed with Gail on stuff is I UNDERSTOOD her feeling a need to be civil with other DC pros even if she didn’t like them personally, I just....couldn’t manage the same and didn’t feel any desire to try. Like for example, not sure how many people know who Ethan van Sciver is, but he’s a long time high profile DC artist, best known for his GL stuff.....but he used to hang around YABS pretty regularly. EvS is ALSO a haaaaaardcore conservative, Trumpian, and all around terrible person. And he always was.

Like he’d play it civil back then but his opinions were downright hateful on a variety of topics, particularly towards marginalized groups, but he was good at picking just the right moments to half-assedly walk something back the second he took something ‘too far’ - so like, the end result was he said it and everyone saw and remembered, but before anyone could react he’d drop the mea culpa card and be like oh I’m sorry I know that was out of line, I was just caught up in the moment and it’s all good cuz this is all friendly debate anyway right? We’re just talking here.

And he’d pull this crap all the time but because he was a DC pro, people would let him get away with it and warn people off coming down on him so he didn’t feel unwelcome at the board. Now the painfully ironic twist here is that shockingly, totally unexpectedly.....fast forward to about five or six years ago where good old Ethan burns a shit ton of bridges and decides well why not make things a dumpster fire for everyone in my vicinity....and he became the driving force behind a bunch of alt right comic book fans starting their own weak ass version of Gamergate, only called Comicsgate. It never was nearly as....big...as Gamergate was, but it was still ugly. And the thing is, Ethan sicced his sycophants on other industry pros he’d worked with over the years but always disagreed with on politics.....like really let the ugly fly....and most of these pros included Gail as well as a bunch of the other DC professionals from back in the YABS days.

Because thing was....that was literally WHY he’d hung out at YABS so much back then, despite being so far in disagreement with most of the progressive leaning board. He was always just interested in stirring shit up, he never actually had the slightest interest in debate or seeing the other side of anything....he just knew how to play the right cards to get the right people to come to his defense and cool things off rather than run him off, in the name of keeping things civil and such...all so he could start it all up again a couple weeks later.

And this is literally why that kind of thing doesn’t work for me at all. Because he wasn’t really that subtle even then, most people knew all along exactly what he was doing, and letting him get away with shit that would have gotten anyone else banned purely because he was a industry pro just meant that his opportunities to subject anyone in his vicinity to just vile, hateful shit ended up more protected than all the marginalized posters on that board who didn’t come to it to see his shit but had to constantly listen to it anyway because people were more interested in making excuses for him than making it comfortable for everyone else.

And in the end, he ended up turning on the very people who’d protected him from everyone else ripping into his hateful viewpoints with the directness they merited. Which just. Sigh. To me just smacks of a whole lot of unnecessary years spent putting up with his barely veiled bullshit until he didn’t bother even veiling it anymore....even though the reality is NOBODY was ever buying into his veil of it in the first place and we all knew what was right behind it all along. Anyway. Not that it matters LOL, but good old Eth, was one of the primary reasons I decided not to go into comics when I had a couple of opportunities come up, as I decided to focus my efforts on Hollywood at the time instead. Lmao, I figured if I was going to have to keep my mouth shut about coworkers whose opinions I vehemently disagreed with in the name of professionalism, I might as well focus on the profession that would pay me more money to keep that to myself. Look, at least capitalism is useful when ADHD and trying to pretend to be decisive about life choices.)

Long ramble nobody asked for aside, like I said, I can’t remember Link’s take on this particular topic but it’s likely the one I agreed with for the most part. My own take has always been that Miller sucks and if he said it chances are I said he was wrong because he is about everything and my religion is people saying so and by people I mean me. My religion’s also big on self-actualization. Not sure what else, I did just make it up and I think I’ll probably just stop there so I don’t accidentally make it a cult.

But yeah. I mean, maybe it’ll surprise people given how critical I am of the abusive elements of canon, but I’ve never applied the child endangerment/child soldier argument to sidekicks. It’s obviously not that they don’t get hurt in these stories and even traumatized, it’s not that they’re NOT in danger as kids....it’s just why I put such an emphasis on it being their choice to fight crime and be heroes and NOT something that Bruce or any other mentor or parent pushed them into.

Because this is one of the reasons why death of the author more often than not just doesn’t work for me. Authorial intent matters. Readers are always free to interpret a text however they want, regardless of authorial intent....but IF a writer has a specific intent behind a narrative choice, chances are most interpretations that refuse to align themselves with that viewpoint aren’t really all that RELEVANT to the story the writer was trying to tell in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong. Those other interpretations can still exist. They’re allowed to exist. People can abide by them all they want. But if someone’s takeaway from a story is a deliberate choice to read it entirely different from the story the writer intended it to be.....like, their interpretation is all well and good, but it’s not actually at all a RELEVANT commentary on or review of the story the writer was actually writing. They’re not actually saying the writer did a poor job of telling the story or was wrong in how they did it....because they’re not actually talking about the story the writer was actually telling.

Thus their commentary on it exists. But it’s just not that relevant. Because nothing in it even CAN offer an opinion on how else the writer could or should have written that story....because the story they ARE talking about isn’t the story the writer was even interested in writing.

Now, there are some times when authorial intent DOESNT matter. And when criticism of it is entirely fair and earned even if it’s of something the writer didn’t consciously or deliberately write into their story at all. But these things are almost ALWAYS unconscious. Unlike what I was just talking about, where the writer was very consciously writing the story a certain way for a reason, and thus people who aren’t interested in reading the story the way it was written to be read just can’t offer up a commentary that says anything useful or meaningful about the story that was actually written...the flip side of this is when the writer puts things they don’t intend into the text, but still are very much there all the same.

And this sort of thing applies to things like micro aggressions or racism, homophobia, sexism....things where a writer didn’t sit down intending to be offensive or alienate their readers but still put in things that they don’t think to view as offensive due to their own privilege and lack of experience EXPERIENCING the microaggressions that marginalized readers might be all TOO familiar with and thus can’t avoid reading into a passage where the writer might not have INTENDED harm or offense, but delivered it all the same. Because they didn’t think to put it into their story, they weren’t TRYING to....but they didn’t think to avoid putting it in there either, even if it’s because they didn’t know to until it’s pointed out to them that it’s there.

And this also applies to when the writer puts into their story, via whatever viewpoint they’re writing from, things that herald from their own viewpoints, how they view the world, even in terms of unconscious biases or expectations....but things that readers can still interpret as something they vehemently disagree with, even if the narrative seems to condone it. Because a lot of these viewpoints are things where the way they’re written....even just not coming out as clearly not condoning or agreeing it can effectively be read as tacitly condoning it.

So to apply all this to the idea of child sidekicks and child soldiers:

They’re not one and the same, and thus treating them as one and the same or interchangeable is IMO an inherently flawed perspective that doesn’t ever have anything USEFUL or RELEVANT to the stories that most people are trying to tell with child heroes and sidekicks.

With the notable exceptions of Miller, Ennis and certain other writers who by their own admission usually aren’t even trying to write about superheroes but rather deconstructions of the genre as a whole.....the vast majority of comic book writers, even the ones I dislike LOL, aren’t writing about child soldiers when they write characters like the Robins. Because CONSCIOUSLY, with INTENT, they’re already trying to write something completely different:

Child heroes and sidekicks are almost universally written to be child (although to be really fair, for the most part they’re largely teen) empowerment allegories. They’re youth power fantasies.

They’re stories about kids, about teens, getting to be the ones to save the world. About kids who don’t need adults to save them because they save themselves or their friends. Kids saving other people, other kids, grown adults. Stories about child HEROES are written as metaphors of hope for the future and the promise of the younger generations, or power fantasies where kids who feel helpless and powerless in their own lives can read these stories and vicariously imagine through the characters the idea of one day having the power to save themselves or other people, what that would be like, what they’d do with that.

But here’s the important part, and why people interpreting these teen and kid heroes as child soldiers doesn’t really offer relevant commentary to stories that are written to be allegorical youth power fantasies, regardless of authorial intent or death of the author....

And that’s because the key ingredient here, the thing that’s not really up for debate or open to interpretation....is that these stories can ONLY ever be allegorical.

Because like I said before, child heroes and child soldiers are not the same thing. There simply IS NO REAL WORLD EQUIVALENT for child and teen heroes as comic books style them.

And that’s why the fact that with most every child hero in comics, no adult makes them be a hero. They choose that for themselves, it’s almost universally characterized as a self-determination or empowerment moment rather than one of coercion like Miller likes to characterize it. His choice to characterize Bruce essentially drafting Dick as Robin to fight alongside him does nothing to provide commentary on any other superhero story, no matter what he’s told himself or his fans, because his story is the only one where Robin was drafted!

You can’t condemn narrative choices that nobody but you has actually written and then act like you’re saying something about any narrative other than your own fsjsjfshfzgzfhgs.

And you also can’t claim that you’re just seeing in the text something that’s inherently there and the other writers didn’t just see to avoid like I was talking about being a valid critique....because what’s being commented on there isn’t anything that was written unknowingly. Other writers consciously wrote the same things as Miller in terms of a child engaged in all that violence....but they deliberately wrote those moments to be metaphors of a kid that gets to save themselves and other people and CHOSE that, which is inherently opposed to the interpretation of a kid who is ONLY in harm’s way because he was forcibly drafted by a more powerful figure or force who cares neither what he wants or if he gets hurt.

These two ideas are mutually exclusive. They can not coexist in the same narrative because a character can not be powerless and self-empowering about the exact same specific choice. And thus anything that’s said about one of these narratives is inherently unable to say anything that’s relevant about the other....because the other is not written by its writer TO BE the kind of narrative that particular commentary is dissecting. It’s not TRYING to be that narrative, so no review of it can possibly say how flawed it’s execution is of an idea it’s not actually trying to execute.

And the differences between child heroes and child soldiers are not just limited to choosing that or being drafted and these other differences are equally key.

The biggest being that child heroes can not be seen as ‘basically’ the same thing as child soldiers.....UNLESS you are also perceiving adult heroes as basically the same thing as adult soldiers. And not even law enforcement or police or temporarily deputized or whatever else you want to spin it as....SOLDIERS, specifically. You don’t get to bring up something as charged as child soldiers and then get vague with your terminology when the close scrutiny that brings to your analogy stops working in your favor.

If sidekicks are child soldiers then you must in conjunction view adult superheroes as soldiers. And not in the abstract one man war on crime way Miller likes to consider Batman in his attempted deconstruction of superheroes. ACTUAL soldiers. If there’s no room in your comparison for child heroes to differentiate from real world child soldiers, there’s no wiggle room for the adults either.

And again, except for Miller, Ennis and specific others who by their own admissions are not TRYING to view superheroes the same way most other comic writers are, but fail to see that genre conventions are largely interpretive and thus seeing room for different interpretations of superheroes isn’t actually a commentary on how other people see and write those same heroes....like except for these select few, most writers are not writing superhero soldiers unless they’re Captain America or Captain Atom. Yes I know there are other superhero soldiers but let me be pithy. Even those aren’t really the same as their real world equivalents.

See, real soldiers don’t make distinctions about whether or not they’re willing to use guns. Their personal views on killing are not prioritized over whether they’ve been told to use lethal force to accomplish their objective. They have a chain of command. No matter the rationalization, they pledge their loyalty to singular nations and the aims and objectives of those specific nations over the abstract of acting in defense of the whole world.

Now again, maybe that applies to Captain Atom, but for the most part can you say the majority of comic book writers are TRYING to write Superman, Batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman etc through that lens? No. So while Miller really thinks he said something when he wrote his Batman with guns, fighting in the Middle East, killing people left and right, none of that actually ‘showed’ people that at the end of the day, Batman is no conceptually different from a real world soldier like. No all he actually did was write his own take on Batman, and said look, he’s a gun toting murderous asshole, huzzah I have deconstructed the modern superhero!

Like. Shut up Miller. Honestly.

But seriously. Superheroes do not have a real world equivalent and neither do child heroes. Even when it comes to nonpowered ones like the Batfam, they’re still deliberately written in a larger than life, four color perspective that requires a suspension of disbelief at the front door. We ALL know and understand that they aren’t a blue print for how to go out and be a real world vigilante. Even real world vigilantes exist. But they don’t look anything like the Batfam and it’s disingenuous to pretend they do for the sake of teh discourse. Nobody honestly believes that there is even the OPTION of going out one day and deciding to become a comic book style vigilante like one of the Batfam. It’s why even they’re termed superheroes despite the lack of superpowers. On a CONCEPTUAL level it’s understood that the stories being told about them require an extrahuman medium. You can not simultaneously write characters according to a mythic scale but then attempt to interpret that very writing on a real world one. It doesn’t work.

Which brings me to my final piece of this pie. Or puzzle. Idk I’ve been doing this response for awhile I forget what this is.

And that is again, the difference between interpreting a story in a way the author probably didn’t intend and understanding when a story isn’t meant to be interpreted in the way you’re trying to.

And this difference is how I can understand and reconcile the idea that it’s not inherently abusive for Bruce to allow his kids to fight crime at all, even though that would inherently be child endangerment in the real world, but at the same time, I can view him as abusive in other ways that don’t make allowances for the differences between real life and comics.

Basically it boils down to: CAN this specific element of a story be duplicated in real life or mirror a real life action or idea? Is there a direct parallel to a real world equivalent at all?

I can view Bruce fighting crime or saving the world alongside a child Robin without viewing that as child endangerment or inherently abusive, even when Robin gets hurt in the process....because there is no real world equivalent to those parts of a story. NO ONE, child or adult, is going out there and doing those things Batman and Robin style. Even the people who dress up in their own real life vigilante personas basically just do niche neighborhood things like walk people home from the bar. And even people doing real life vigilantism in terms of taking out criminals, like, that’s usually more of a personal revenge thing and not one where they’re trying to attract attention via a costumed persona. When you think real world Batman and Robin, nothing comes to mind for a reason.

And thus this says nothing inherently abusive about their dynamic, even according to real life parallels of child endangerment, because it’s not a real scenario. And thus it’s not TRYING to say anything about real life. It’s innately allegorical. It’s power fantasy emphasis on the fantasy.

In contrast, when you have something like Bruce hitting one of his kids.....no matter who the characters are, that specific interaction and the dynamic it presents DOES have a real world equivalent. That’s just parent/child abuse. And thus even if the writer didn’t intend for it to be interpreted that way, it’s still a valid interpretation. If it looks like a parent hitting their child, you can call it a parent hitting a child.

Batman and Robin fighting killer mind controlled plants together? Can’t happen. I’m not going to call it child endangerment when it’s not a realistic scenario and not meant to be, and I’ve already been presented with a valid alternative interpretation of this being a child empowered to help save people alongside his superhero father. There’s no point in condemning a dynamic that CANT be translated to a non allegory in real life.

But Bruce hitting his son? A father no matter how good hearted normally, being affected by extreme stress or grief or something else that makes his behavior take a turn for the worse and reach a point where he physically lashes out even if he never would have in the past? Nothing remotely allegorical about that. That story has too many real world equivalents to dismiss as having nothing to say about abuse in real life. Even if the writer didn’t intend for this to read as abusive because they were thinking of how much worse Dick has been hurt fighting alongside Bruce and never held that against him even though technically it was Bruce letting him get hurt....doesn’t matter. That interpretation still requires viewing through a lens that can’t exist in reality. No kid can ever excuse a parent hitting them by thinking of how much worse they got hurt taking down their local mob together and if he didn’t blame his dad for that cuz he wanted to do it to help people then how can he blame his dad for hurting him in a moment of anger? Umm. Doesn’t track see? They’re not the same thing at all.

Or another one that really bugs....I’ve heard people defend shipping a Robin while underage with an adult by saying if they’re old enough to make the choice to risk their life and have that choice respected, they’re old enough to choose who they want to be with. Umm. No. That’s not just apples and oranges that’s genetically modified grapes and seventeenth century cannonballs.

That logic doesn’t apply because neither of those things is the underage character choosing ANYTHING. They’re fictional. Everything they choose is just what their writer wrote them choosing. But again, one of those choices is one that an underage reader CANT choose in real life and have respected by every adult in their life, and thus will never have a bearing on their life as anything BUT an allegory they have to interpret and translate into something actionable they can apply to their life and choices. The other choice is them being written as presented with an option that’s actually a textbook real life grooming technique and something abusers use to justify the relationship they’re trying to cultivate with a minor by saying aren’t you mature for your age, aren’t you old enough to know what you want or to do this or that in which case you should be old enough to make this choice?

See the difference? Putting on a cape and going out to fight robots? Not directly applicable. Saying yes to the grown man saying he wants to have sex with you and thinks you’re old enough given this other choice you’ve made that highlights your maturity? That’s a choice that can be presented both to a Robin or a real life minor, but a writer justifying that choice for that Robin by saying well he’s already previously made this other choice that has no real life equivalent.....that creates a pretty misleading interpretation to people reading that story and not stopping to think through the distinctions between what KINDS of choices the writer is presenting these characters with and then justifying via their narrative.

And while I haven’t watched the video you’re referencing, anon, I would definitely agree that this is an example of how viewing child heroes as child soldiers is....not great. Aside from being cynical, misusing the idea of death of the author and helping to validate Miller’s choices and thus ego which is NEVER a good look LOL....it also intentionally or not paves the way for putting fictional types and MEANS of harm on an even playing field with real life ones and acting like it’s all one and the same with no distinctions to be drawn. And this doesn’t actually offer anything substantive or constructive about holding characters accountable for reasonable expectations of harm, when the sources of harm have no reasonable equivalent and thus only exist in the medium of being a youth power fantasy in which the child involved is fictional and can’t truly be harmed, with the harm done the second the scene ends and where the character can be back in fighting form the very next scene. Thus the only lingering element there IS the power fantasy.

Nope, all it actually does is muddy the waters in the REVERSE, and make it so it’s actually easier to justify or rationalize types and means of harm that DO have a real world equivalent, but by pointing to examples from a fictional medium and emphasizing the fictional character’s lack of being harmed while de-emphasizing the fact that the writer has full control over depicting this in a solely positive light that doesn’t ALLOW the fictional character any angle from which to voice that this CAN result in harm when not written for fictional characters according to a writer’s specific intent.

And that’s that about that. My opinion: you have it.

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

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saint.|| soobin pt 2. (1)🌪

a/n: just want to let ya’ll know that me and soobin are married irl lol lol lmaooooo oh and part 2 isn’t the “next day” of part 1. It’s like a couple of weeks later!

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 2202.

mia slid down her bathroom wall hugging her knees. she sobbed endlessly into them, talking to them softly as if they were people. the knife she used sat idly on the floor with her blood dripping down the tip of it. she decided to slice her wrists this time around. and they stung just as much as her thighs, only bled worse. she showed them to the boys as well, asking them once again if they were happy with themselves. like usual they laughed at her, and instead begged her to send pictures of herself naked.

she was already traumatized from the pictures they hung up at the school as a joke. she knew if she sent these she’d die of embarrassment. she said no but to no avail. the teased and taunted her, telling her that if she didn’t send them they’d have to kill her for sure. this only made her cry harder. she could barely take being the joke of the whole school. If this were to happen she wouldn’t know what she’d do.

you on the other hand was texting mia’s phone over and over just to be sure that she was okay. you were currently curling your hair in the bathroom waiting for her replies. just a couple days ago soobin had asked you on a date. you told your parents you were being invited to a church service of some sort, this was the only way they’d let you go. these days you were often surprised by how much they believed. you thought maybe it was a matter of them letting you grow up, or just because they liked seeing you chase after your religion with someone else other than them.

you hoped to god that the rose gold mermaid shaped dress you wore was enough. it stopped just above your knees and it hugged your body far more tighter than anything else you ever wore.You thought heels would be okay just this once. you had to take a break from your doc martens at least sometimes. after curling your hair you allow two small pieces to dangle in your face while you put it up in one big curly puff ball. your earrings dangled beautifully at your neck and as soon as mia texted you telling you she was alright, soobin was throwing rocks at your window. you didn’t dare to look at him because well, you kind of wanted it to be a surprise. “Mom I’m leaving! I should be back soon”. you swipe some lipstick on your lips before you stepped foot outside. soobin hadn’t even noticed you were outside until you closed the door behind yourself. he was too busy throwing rocks at your window still. he was on his way to grab the next rock out of his hand until he locked eyes with you.

he wore a white turtle neck sweater under his wheat colored wool trench coat. he kept his jeans dark and cuffed at the bottom and he kept his shoes casual. he wore his hair in a side part like the prince he was. but he thought there absolutely nothing he could wear that outshine you. his breathing almost stopped. you could blush at the way he froze. he never got too many chances to see your curvy body for what it really was. he approaches you and you could barely look at him. not only was he way too cute, but he was looking at you as if you were the best thing in the world.

“you look so beautiful mama”.

and here it goes. your cheeks all rosy and red like you had absolutely no sense.

“you look cute too soobin”. you struggled to say. he grabbed your arm and tucked it into his arm cheesily.

“shall we?”. he asks even cheesier. you laughed and let him guide you to the car. at this point it was hard to deny your love for soobin. it was just something you couldn’t help. he was always so caring to you. so sweet to you. so loving. before, you thought it was pretty stupid to have your head wrapped a boy this young. you didn’t see how girls could do it. but now you did.

the restaurant was named ‘September in Paris’ and it was the most gorgeous establishment you had ever seen. the string lights danced along the wall of rooftop where the tables were held. the music was nice and soft and every couple was talking and laughing amongst each other with no care in the world. you were happy he took you at night because the skyline looked better that way. soobin reminded the waitress of the reservation he set before she led you both to a table. he pulled your chair out for you, allowing you to sit before he push you in safely. There was a wine bottle sitting upon each table. soobin did the honor of opening the one you two had and poured it into his wine glass.

“would you like some?”.

he asks curiously and you shake your head putting your hand up.

“no thank you. I don’t drink alcohol”.

soobin laughs a little, “it’s just wine”.

“even still”. you reply.

“jesus turned water into wine you know”.

“yeah and I’m pretty sure jesus didn’t allow people to get drunk with it”.

soobin laughs again. “you think I’m trying to get you drunk? who do you take me for?”.

“choi soobin”.

soobin scoffs. “i’m not some predator”.

“maybe not. but how will I ever know that?”.

“because I’m telling you”.

“everyone lies soobin”.

soobin was set to say something before he bites his lip. “yeah but..i’ve never even heard you lie before”.

you shrug plucking up the menu.

“what is there to lie for? the best part about life is honesty. and sincerity of course”. your eyes graze the french dishes that you had no idea how to pronounce. soobin thought for a moment before the waiter arrived and took orders. honesty and sincerity. he was far from any of those.

“and if a person isn’t any of those?”. soobin asks. you thanked the waiter for bringing your glass of water.

“then that person ins’t a good person”. you sip. soobin sits up further with curiosity tucked in his eyes.

“what exactly does a good person look like in your eyes?”.

“you know. someone who is honest. they have nothing but love to give and they aren’t afraid of admitting their faults, selfless...it’s hard to be a good person all the time though. so I applaud all people who are”.

soobin sits back, thinking some more. you could read it all in his face.

“what are you thinking about?”.

“nothing. you’re an angel that’s all”. he smirks and you point your glass in his direction acting as if you were going to throw it. he ducked his head and laughed.

“you’re so aggressive”. he teases. you smirk this time.

“you like it though”.

soobin scrunches his nose to keep from blushing. his dimples were so cute pushing into his cheeks. it caught him off guard.

“look whose blushing now”. you tease again shortly after. he shrugs it off by the time the waiter brought your meals to the table. you settled on pasta while soobin had an odd marinade with some type of meat. he looked like he was really enjoying it so of course you didn’t tease him about it.

“so I see you made a new friend”. soobin mentions.

“really? who?”.

“mia howard”.

you slumped your shoulders a bit thinking about her.

“I just feel so bad for her you know? she’s getting tormented and harassed daily these days and it isn’t fair. she doesn’t deserve that”.

“you don’t even care that she was mean to you?”.

“no. i don’t seek revenge. when I saw her in the bathroom that day looking strung out it was hard to pass her. she looked so helpless. so i’m going to be the one to help her if no one else does”.

“you’re really starting to care more about her aren’t you?”. soobin asks swallowing his beef.

“yes. it isn’t right for her go through the things she’s going through. she’s still young”.

you continue eating your food and soobin is looking someplace else trying not to hide a smile. you wanted to punch him.

“what are you smiling about?”.

“I don’t know what’s more beautiful. you or your heart”.

you try your absolute hardest not to blush.

“whatever soobin”.

“i really like you”.

that comment alone almost had you choking on your pasta. you didn’t know how you managed to stay well kept.

“you said you were going to teach me how to have sex. how did that transform into this hm?”. you teased.

‘because I fell in love’, soobin wanted to say. but couldn’t because he was too afraid. instead he smirks.

“I can still teach you”. and the way he glared at you made you take a piece of your noodle and throw it at him. you felt heat sitting in your cheeks.

“soobin stop it”. he dodges it and laughs. he smirks again,

“I can still bend you over this table and show you a lesson or two”. he winks and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“soobin stop it I was just playing”. and of course your warning went right over his head and this time he bites his lip.

“you want to be daddy’s big girl?”.

you clenched your thighs together trying to keep yourself in check tonight. god when did soobin become so sexy?

“soobin okay that’s enough”.

“fine”. he replies with that same dumb ass grin you hated. you both went back to eating and you were desperately trying to normalize your heart. you let the moment of silence swallow you whole but soobin didn’t.

“you can still be daddy’s---”.

“SOOBIN”. you interjected.

♡━━━♡━━━♡

soobin opens your car door, “after you madame”. he says cheesily before taking your hand to help you out of the car. he walks you to your door trying his best not to let his eyes slip below your waist. you turned around and watched him snatch them back up quickly and you laugh.

“I saw you soobin”.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”.

“yeah right”. you roll your eyes playfully and approaches you. he glares down at you and cups your cheek softly planting a kiss on your lips and pulling away shortly after.

“thank you for spending time with me tonight. I really appreciate it”. you smile softly, opening the door to your house.

“of course. it’s what you do when you love someone”. you smiled softly before shutting your door. needless to say, soobin was stunned. he walks back to his car in a daze. he thinks for a moment before pulling off, driving long ways passed his house. he parks across the street from the home and got out almost immediately, knocking on the door. A smaller woman appeared in the doorway, it was obvious that she was much older, but still lovely and sweet looking. soobin smiles softly.

“hello. Is it alright if I speak to mia please?”.

it was clear that she was taken aback, but she guessed it was alright since you were only at the door. she called upstairs. and after two calls mia came stumbling down in an oversized sweater and sweatpants trying to hide as much of her bruised body as she could. she looked more stressed than soobin had ever saw her. she winced when she saw him at the door.

“what are you doing here?”. she hisses.

“I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to be. Even if you don’t accept it I just want you to listen. I was an asshole to you. what i did was fucked up and I know you’re damaged beyond repair. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I thought at the time, what I was doing was cool. I thought it would make me look like a hero or something and it didn’t it was just a fucked up thing to do. It’s probably going to take time for you to forgive me but I just wanted to say that alright?”.

mia just stood there kind of surprised. she didn’t know what to say or how to say it. she wondered what made him do it in the first place. and soobin sensed her confusion.

“I may be long days away from ever being a good person but I think this is a start. you can hate me all you want. just know that if you need therapy after this or anything it’s on my dime, I’ll pay for it. I’m really sorry”. he apologizes again.

mia just sort of gave him a blank nod, not knowing how to react. soobin thought it was best that he stepped off her porch and left. so he did so. once he was in his car he thought back to you. he secretly promises you he will be a better person.

because that’s just what you do when you love someone.

#txt #choi soobin #choi beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi soobin au #txt au #choi soobin smut

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marjansmarwani · 4 years

Note

If it’s okay to ask for another prompt, #6, Tarlos please? If not you can absolutely just ignore this 😄

Feel free to ask for as many as you want! Here it is - it ended up being absolutely nothing like what I planned it to be, but that just happens some times and I have very little say in it.

I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for the request! 💕

----

Not anyone, you’re the one

Read on Ao3

Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, Owen Strand

Relationship: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Word Count: 3222

Prompt 6 - "you're bleeding"

---

In the aftermath of the solar flare, Carlos and TK have a heart to heart.

----

“You’re bleeding.”

There are so many things he should say to TK; wants to (needs to) say to TK, but when Carlos finally gets to his side in the aftermath; the first thing out of his mouth is an observation that is far from astute. For a moment the blood on TK’s shirt - far, far too close to the bandage covering a bullet wound that almost took TK from him before they had even had a chance to truly start - was all he could focus on. There was commotion everywhere, flashing lights and flames and sirens, but all Carlos could focus on is TK and the blood staining his shirt.

TK shrugged in that almost self-conscious way of his; the way he was when he did not want the spotlight, or when he was hiding something.

“It’s nothing, really,” he said with that shrug. Carlos arched a skeptical eyebrow but offered nothing more in challenge. It had been a long and traumatic afternoon - he could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Adding in the talk they had finished right before the world had gone to hell, now was probably not the best time to engage that particular desire. He had a feeling that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He didn’t want to pour his heart out to TK just yet - not here, not now.

“If you say so,” he said instead.

TK frowned at him and for a moment Carlos thought he might have actually been disappointed that Carlos hadn’t pushed him. But then they were surrounded by his team and the frown was gone and Carlos was sure he had imagined it. There is fussing and Carlos knows Judd doesn’t mean it when he rants about how TK is a danger magnet that should never be allowed in public unsupervised, and the others exchange skeptical looks at TK’s insistence that he is fine, really. Carlos isn’t sure exactly how he fits here in this group which has clearly morphed into some kind of ragtag family unit. He’s not sure how to interact here; he’s not sure of his place. He mostly listens, studying the others as they interact. They all strive to be close to TK as if they need assurances he is still with them (a sentiment Carlos fully understands). There are small touches; little moments that are exploited for tactility. A chance to feel for themselves that he is still here; still breathing. Glances around show Carlos that he is not the only one fixated on the bloodstain. It is too soon and far too close for comfort. He’s not sure where he fits here, but he does know that they are all on the same page. They’re all allies on this front and between them, they manage to get TK onto the ambulance right beside the bus driver.

It’s not until the doors swing closed behind him and the ambulance pulls away that the remainder of the 126 starts to show their fear.

“I swear to Christ that kid is going to give me gray hair before I’m 40,” Judd laments.

“How do you think I feel?” Captain Strand asks drily, running a hand through his salt and pepper dusted hair. “This didn’t happen on its own you know.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Mateo asks softly, eyes still tracking the ambulance as it drives away from the scene.

Paul claps him on the shoulder, “Of course he is. He probably just pulled his stitches acting the hero. They’ll clean it up and restitch before sending him home.”

“It’s lucky for her he was here. I don’t think we would have been able to get to her in time,” Marjan says lowly. This brings the rest of the crew and their false bravados back to center and their expressions grow darker. Carlos is speaking up before he even knows what he is going to say: “He’s lucky you guys showed up too. If it weren’t for you…” he trailed off, but the words he left unsaid hung within the group. Their eyes are on him too, as if they are just really registering his presence. There is a raised eyebrow from Judd, a knowing look from Paul; but no one says anything. It hits him again that no one knew about them before the shooting. Even now they have no way of knowing what transpired between them here today.

Though to be fair, Carlos isn’t too sure he knows that either.

Captain Strand, bless him, clears his throat and pulls his team’s attention away from Carlos and back to the matter and the scene at hand.

“TK will be fine,” he says bracingly, with such surety Carlos almost thinks he believes it, “in the meantime, we have a scene to clear.” He then turns to Judd, “I hate to ask again, but would you mind taking over? I need to call the Deputy Chief, make sure...”

“I can head to the hospital,” Carlos says abruptly, the words out of his mouth before his mind has even processed them. “It’s my day off so I have the time and you guys have this to deal with.” He trails off, gesturing vaguely at the mess surrounding them.

The Captain looks torn. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to leave his team and a job unfinished, but the way his gaze keeps drifting towards the direction the ambulance left from betrays just how much he would like to drop everything and run to TK’s side; to see with his own eyes that he is okay. Eventually, he nods.

“Thank you, Carlos, I appreciate that. I’d also really appreciate it if you could keep me updated if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course,” Carlos says quickly, understanding that it is not so much a request as it is a requirement. Captain Strand will not be able to stay here unless he is sure TK is okay, and it will be up to Carlos to make sure that he knows that.”I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I know.”

The captain nods gratefully, some of the tension leaking from his shoulders. He smiles as Carlos and claps a hand on his shoulder, “I appreciate this son, thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Carlos assures him, even as his own mind is calling him a fool for getting involved. TK had essentially just dumped him not even an hour ago, and here he was spending his afternoon off heading to the hospital to wait for him.

Not going really wasn’t an option though - he needed to know that TK was okay just as much as the captain did. If he was honest with himself, there was no version of this where he just went home.

With a half-hearted wave in the general direction of the rest of the team and their curious looks, Carlos turned and headed back towards his car. Getting out of the area was easier than Carlos had anticipated and he arrived at the hospital before he was ready to face it. He allowed himself a few moments to sit in his car; to take a few deep breaths. There hadn’t been any time to process anything. It had been one thing after another - each thing coming one after another, determined to topple him blow by blow. And it wasn’t over yet.

He allowed himself another deep breath and pulled himself out of his car. He needed to do this one last thing; have his heart shattered one last time before he could go home, call Michelle, and have a beer. He could do this.

He entered the hospital and approached the information desk, waiting patiently for the nurse to finish her call. When she glanced up at him, he smiled - pushing his doubts and hurt back under the guise of practiced politeness. “I was looking for a TK Strand? He was brought in by ambulance a little while ago.”

She returned his smile and turned her gaze to her computer. She typed and then looked back up, “We have a Tyler Kennedy Strand?”

Carlos nodded, “Yes, that’s him. Would you be able to tell me where I could find him?”

She glanced back at her screen, “He is currently in treatment, but it may take a while for him to be done. We’re pretty slammed here today and it appears his injuries were not priority ones”

“Of course, I understand.”

She looked up at him again, still smiling, “There’s a waiting room right outside the ER. Why don’t you take a seat there? It will likely be a while before you’ll be able to see him.”

“I will, thank you, ma’am.” He left her with a parting smile and headed towards the waiting room indicated. It was crowded, and Carlos figured he shouldn’t be surprised. He had almost forgotten that this hadn’t happened to him in a bubble - the entire city had been affected. He wasn’t the only one having a rough day. In fact, judging by the look of the people and injuries he saw cramming into the ER waiting room, he was having a better day than most.

He sighed as he sank into a chair with a view of the doors to the treatment bays and the nurse’s station. He allowed himself a moment to close his eyes. His nerves were fried. Between his conversation with TK, the shock of the accident, the fear of watching TK going into an overturned bus and then of watching him pulled out of a flaming bus - it had been a long day. He wanted nothing more to hide under his blankets and sleep for the next week, but he had a promise to keep. So instead he settled in and let his mind wander.

One thing he hadn’t counted on when he had agreed to come here in Captain Strand’s stead, was the time for his mind to wander. He kept playing that conversation with TK over and over again in his head. The worst part of it, he mused, was that he couldn’t even be mad at TK. He had asked a question, and TK had given him the only answer he had. He hadn’t lied to him, he hadn’t tried to lead him on. He had done the right thing.

It wasn’t his fault that it was also the thing that had crushed Carlos’s heart.

He had known that there was only ever a 50/50 chance this thing with TK would work. It was chaotic from the beginning and doomed from the start. But things had been looking up. He had been so sure they were finally on the upswing; that things between them would finally be okay. That this was something he could rely on.

Then TK had gotten shot and their short, sweet romance had been blown to hell.

He knew that he had made an idiot of himself then, he knew he had put too much of himself on the line. But he had been so scared, and the thought of losing TK; of losing what they had overwhelmed his sensible nature. His actions had pushed TK who was already in a vulnerable position; had forced him to confront his feelings in addition to the shock and pain and sheer novelty of being alive again. TK had been given too much to deal with all at once, and something had to give.

Carlos had just selfishly hoped it wouldn’t be them.

He let his mind wander as the waiting dragged on, studying the others in the waiting room. He tried to guess their stories, tried to piece together what had brought them here to this hospital today. Had any of them had their heart broken today too?

The waiting stretched on and beyond a few texts exchanged with Captain Strand, Carlos spent most of it utterly unoccupied. He was just about to check the clock on the wall simply for something to do when the sight of a familiar striped shirt and a bloodstain that haunted his mind stepped out of the treatment bays and towards the nurse’s station. He watched as TK said something to the nurse and was handed some forms to fill out.

Even though logically Carlos knew he had to be okay, he was pretty sure there was nothing could have made him feel better at this moment than seeing TK Strand up and filling out paperwork. He shifted anxiously in his seat and when TK handed the forms back to the nurse and turned towards the exit, he shot out of his seat and met him at the door.

He called his name and TK froze, turning to look at Carlos with a bewildered expression. “Carlos?” he asked, “what are you doing here?”

Here, Carlos paused. “Your dad wanted to come but he was still on shift and I didn’t have to work so I said I would because I figured you would need a ride home and...well I guess I’m here to pick you up.”

TK raised an eyebrow and Carlos cringed. Smooth Reyes, he chided himself, not weird at all.

“You really drove out here and spent the past hour in the waiting room on your day off just to give me a ride home after I dumped you?” TK asked skeptically.

Carlos cringed. Well, you put it like that…

But TK was shaking his head, “You’re too good to be true Carlos Reyes,” he said softly, “There was never any chance I deserved you.”

Carlos looked up abruptly, expression furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“I never deserved you,” TK repeated, “you’re too good to be stuck with someone like me.”

“TK, no…”

“It’s true Carlos, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Carlos just stared at him. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening but he did know that it was nothing he had planned on. “Hey,” he said, “why don’t we get out of here and talk.”

TK glanced around the crowded waiting room - including a few bored individuals who had taken an interest in their conversation - and nodded. Carlos gave him a small smile and gestured towards the door. Once they were outside he led TK to his car and climbed in. Once they were settled and the doors were shut he turned to face TK, speaking before TK could get a word in. “First of all, that’s ridiculous. And even if it were true I think I get some say in the matter and I want to be with you. Whatever it is you think I deserve or you don’t deserve doesn’t change that. Secondly, how are you feeling?”

TK blinked, mind whirring as he considered all the implication of Carlos’s words. “I’m fine,” he said eventually, “they redid my stitches and I’m under strict instructions to not enter any more flaming buses.”

Carlos nodded, “That’s good advice, you should follow it.”

TK grinned at him, and Carlos returned it. Too soon the smile slipped off his face and he sighed, “I think we need to talk Carlos.”

Carlos swallowed and turned in his seat so he was facing TK and nodded.

“First of all,” TK started, “I’m sorry. What I said earlier...I panicked. I wasn’t sure what I wanted and I panicked. It’s been a weird few days for me and I…”

He trailed off and Carlos raised an eyebrow and offered, “panicked?”

TK nodded.

Carlos sighed again, “It’s okay TK, you’ve been through a lot. I shouldn’t have tried to push you. It’s okay if you don’t know what you want right now--”

“But I do,” TK interrupted. When Carlos gave him a skeptical look he continued, “I do know, now. I want to be a firefighter, here in Austin. I want to be with you Carlos; I want to give this a try - if you’re willing.”

Carlos stared at him, mouth agape. This was what he had wanted, but he hadn’t allowed himself to even hope that it could actually happen. He was mulling it over in his mind, replaying the moment to make sure it was real when he realized abruptly that TK was still awaiting an answer.

“Yes. I mean, yeah - I’m willing. Ready, even.” He followed it up with a grin, that TK returned even if it was strained.

“Before you make any hasty decisions, I think I need to tell you some things. You deserve to know the whole story of what you’re getting into before you jump in.”

Carlos nodded and TK started. He told him about his past, how he had been an addict who struggled to get clean. How he had found Alex, and how that had fallen apart. How he had relapsed; how he had ODed. How he had ended up here; not ready for a new relationship, still licking old wounds when they had met. Carlos let him speak uninterrupted, mentally putting the pieces into place in his own story. It explained so many things and made his heart ache for the other man. He had been through so much, but he was still trying; still clawing his way up to the surface, fighting all the way. Carlos was proud of him.

He said as much when TK finished his tale, and TK scoffed, “proud at me for being an addict?”

Carlos shook his head, “Proud of you for fighting, for beating this. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy, but you’ve been putting in the work. I don’t know if I would have been strong enough.”

“You would have,” TK said softly but Carlos shook his head, “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t change the fact that what you have done is nothing short of amazing TK, and I am impressed by you. You said you don’t think you deserve me, but I think it might be the other way around. What have I ever done to deserve someone so strong and resilient?”

TK looked like he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to die in his throat. He looked overwhelmed. Carlos reached out a hand and placed it on his knee, “How about we stop focusing on who does or doesn’t deserve who and just focus on how lucky we are to have found each other,” he suggested gently.

TK nodded, looking up at him with a smile and watery eyes, “Unbelievably lucky,” he said so quietly that Carlos almost didn’t hear him. Carlos smiled back at him and they sat there in a warm and welcoming silence for a long time. Eventually, TK placed a hand on top of Carlos’s and squeezed it lightly.

“We should go somewhere and talk some more,” he began, “but there’s another conversation I need to have. Would you mind driving me to the 126?”

Carlos nodded, “As long as you change your shirt. I don’t think I can stand to see your blood for much longer. It reminds me of how close we came to not having this.”

TK glanced down at the ruined shirt and the ominous bloodstain. “I think this is it for this shirt,” he agreed mournfully, “it’s a shame though, I really liked it.”

Carlos shrugged as he turned the car on, “I did too, but I think I’ll get over it. I like you more.”

Read on Ao3

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #my writing #prompt fill

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openheart12 · 3 years

Text

Safe and Sound

Summary: Michelle does make it to NHS and Tony meets her there.

Word Count: 2,058

When Sonny Macer handed her the envelope with her test results, she froze, expecting the worse. She took a deep breath, trying to get the courage to open it.

It was just a plain white envelope with the words “test results” written across it with the number 101 in the corner.

She wished Tony was here with her right now, but she had to be strong and with that, she tore open the envelope and read the results. The first time she read them didn’t feel real so she reread them a second, third, fourth, and fifth time. She double checked that these were actual results and saw that her name was printed at the top.

“Michelle Dessler Almeida. Results: Negative for Cordilla Virus Type B.”

The tension and uncertainty left her body and she relaxed for the first time in hours. She picked up her phone to call him, not knowing what to say but that didn’t matter. It was him, it was Tony.

“Almeida,” he answered.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his stomach churning at the thought of her test results.

She knew that he knew she would have her results by now and was anxiously waiting for them and all she could say was, “I’m okay, I’m not infected.” she said softly.

“Are you sure?” he asked in disbelief, the mortality rate was so high and he wasn’t ready to get his hopes up unless they were absolutely sure.

“Yeah, they did a swab and a blood test and I’m gonna be fine,” she let out a shaky sigh, repeating the words again, “I��m gonna be fine.” It was surreal.

Relief flooded through his body, he felt like he could breathe again. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s fantastic! Look, I want you to get out of there right now and get away from anyone who’s infected-”

Her heart swelled at how protective he was. “Oh, no, no sweetheart, they said that those of us who didn’t come down with the infection that we have an immunity to the virus.” she explained.

“Well, where are they taking you?” he just wanted to be wherever she was, they had been apart for long enough already.

“Downtown,” he heard her sniff before continuing, “to NHS, they want to keep us under watch for eighteen hours… but it’s just a formality.” she said before he could worry.

“Okay, I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“No, no, uh, stay where you are. They need you at CTU. I can work from downtown.” she would do anything to see him but they still had to find the remaining virals of the virus.

“Honey, you don’t have to work,” he said softly. “We can handle it from here.”

“I wanna help, Tony,” she answered and he could tell from her voice that she needed a distraction until they could be together.

“Okay,” he relented. His emotions started to consume him, after realizing just how close he was to losing her. “Michelle?” he said, he wasn’t ready to hang up yet.

“Yeah?” she answered softly.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“I almost lost you too, but we’re still here.”

“Yeah.”

“I have to go,” she told him after seeing people from NHS coming down the hall. “I’ll call you from NHS.”

“Hey, I love you,” he told her.

“I love you so much.” She stayed on the call for a few more seconds until hanging up. She was one of the lucky ones, she got to go home after this awful day and she was reminded how unlucky others were when the agent in the room with her had undoubtedly gotten positive test results and her heart broke for him.

Just like her heart had broken for the rest of the people in the hotel: the innocent guests and her colleagues, Gael.

She just wanted to go home and be with her husband. ‘Eighteen hours,’ she thought with a small smile.

Less than an hour later, she and two others were being loaded up into a van that would be taking them downtown. As the van started leaving, she glanced back up the hotel where hundreds were dead or dying. Being there and witnessing it firsthand, it was traumatic and now she regretted telling Tony to stay at work because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold herself together.

After arriving at NHS, she had to undress and put a gown on. Her and the other two survivors were being isolated completely alone. Survivor. That’s what she was now. Both her and Tony were survivors today. She thought about how scared and helpless she felt when she found out he had been shot and could only imagine how he felt after finding out she was inside the hotel when the virus was released.

She pulled out a laptop Sonny had gotten for her and got straight to work, welcoming the distraction it brought. Nine hours later and the virus had been contained, all eleven virals were secured and the day had finally come to an end.

She picked up her ringing phone and put it to her ear, “Dessler.”

“Hey, it’s me,” she heard his voice answer. “I’m gonna be here probably another two hours and after that, I’ll go home and get you some clothes and meet you downtown.”

“You don’t have to do that, sweetheart,” she said, knowing that the day had taken a toll on him too and she was still worried about his neck.

“I want… I need to see you, Michelle.” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Okay, okay.” she wasn’t going to argue about it because she was the same way when he got shot. She had to see him for herself to believe that he was okay and safe.

He saw Hammond walking up the stairs to his office and rolled his eyes. He just wanted more than a minute to talk to his wife. “I gotta go, baby, Hammond’s here.”

“Have fun with that,” she said, smiling.

“See you soon,” he promised before adding, “I love you.”

“I love you,” she said before hanging up.

She looked up at the clock and there was only nine hours to go. She closed her eyes for a few minutes to try to get some sleep.

About two and a half hours later, Tony pulled into the parking lot of the NHS. The reality that he was going to see his wife, alive and well, was setting in. He grabbed the bag he packed for her from their house and headed inside where he was greeted by Sonny with a wide grin.

“Hey, Tony. It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” he smiled, giving her a quick hug. Sonny had become a close friend of theirs since she started to work for the NHS. “How is she?”

“She’s good, really good. She fell asleep after you guys hung up, I think the exhaustion finally caught up to her.”

“And there’s no chance that the results could be wrong?”

“No, she’s 100% healthy.”

“Can I see her?” he asked.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Follow me.” She led him down a series of hallways and they passed the two other people who were up and pacing around their rooms. Sonny stopped in front of a door and put in a code. “You can go in, this is the most private room we had and I figured you guys would like it.”

“Thank you, Sonny.”

“No problem… I’m really glad she’s okay,” she added softly.

“Me too.” he smiled and she left it at that. He turned his attention to the figure in the room, curled up on the bed and his heart swelled with overwhelming joy. She was beautiful, breath-taking, alive. He watched as her chest rose and fell rhythmically, peacefully. It was enough for tears to well up in his eyes. This was the first time he’d seen her in hours and she never looked more beautiful than she did right now.

The memories of the day came flooding back from when he got shot, to their arguing when he got back from the hospital, when she found out he lied to her for a month, when she went inside the hotel and the mere thought of losing her was too much, to now.

He watched her sleep for a couple more hours until she began to stir. He looked at the clock and only five hours remained. He got it and went to the glass that was separating them, placing his hand against it.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was him. “Hey,” she smiled, getting up and padding over to the glass.

“Hey, sweetheart. How ya doing?”

“Good, I can’t wait to get out of here.” she replied.

“Me neither, I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” she said, placing her hand over his on the glass. “By the way, what did Hammond want?”

He rolled his eyes at the thought of him and a laugh escaped past her lips. “Nothing, he just wanted to congratulate CTU on their work today, especially you, and told me we could have a couple weeks off after you debrief but I told him that could wait for a few days.”

“Thanks,” she gave him a half smile and he knew something was bothering her.

“What is it?”

“It’s just… I didn’t really do anything today except watching people die in agony. And I like the time off, but I like the distraction work brings. I’ve been replaying everything that happened in the hotel since I left it. I see the children who died and their parents had to watch, I see the elderly couple who were the first to take the suicide pills, I see Gael on that stretcher, I see the husbands and wives who died alone and then I think why me? Why am I immune and they’re not?”

“You helped every single one of those people today, Michelle. You gave them an option to end their pain and suffering which wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

“I shot a man, Tony. I killed him. I have a duty to protect the citizens of this country and I killed him.”

“You did what you had to do to protect other lives. You can’t blame yourself for this, Michelle. It’s not going to bring him back… or anyone else.”

“I know. It’s just… it’s just not fair. They couldn’t even say bye to their families and yet, I talked to you the entire time. Sometimes I called just to hear your voice and these people died all alone, surrounded by complete strangers.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t question all the decisions you made or wonder what you could’ve done to prevent this. It was out of your hands and you did your job and I am so, so proud of you.”

“I just wanna go home, Tony. I’m so tired.” she said and he knew she didn’t just mean physically tired.

“Four hours,” he said softly. Only four hours to go until he could have her in his arms. “Why don’t you try to get some more rest?”

“You’re staying, right?” She didn’t want to be alone anymore.

“Of course, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. He wasn’t leaving her again.

“Okay, love you,” she said, getting back into the bed and closing her eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered back.

He spent the next four hours just watching her, waiting for the time to pass until finally Sonny walked in with a huge grin.

“You ready?” She asked and he eagerly said yes.

She opened the door and let him pass through. He walked straight over to her and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Sweetheart, wake up,” he said gently.

“Tony?” She asked sleepily.

“The eighteen hours is over with.” At this she perked up.

Once she realized that he was right in front of her, nothing separating them anymore, she threw her arms around him. The force made him almost lose his balance.

“God, I love you.”

“I love you so much,” he said, tears in his eyes. “Let’s go home.”

“Let’s go home,” she repeated, her smile lighting up her face.

#24 the show #tony almeida x michelle dessler #michelle dessler #tony almeida #tony x michelle #24 fanfiction #24 #it’s 7 am and I haven’t been to sleep at all since 11 pm night before last #I’ve written 7 things and over 10000 words since 1:30 am

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anachronisticcrab · 4 years

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I know that my posts don’t usually get seen when they aren’t about Nico di Angelo or Percy Jackson in general, but I feel like this needs to be addressed. School is shitty in places outside the US

I live in Canada. I don’t have to worry about getting shot if I go to school, but it’s still shitty at my school (especially at my old school)

Quick tw for this entire thing. It deals with eating disorders, mental abuse, physical abuse, psychotic episodes, teachers not caring, mental illness, trauma, and suicide. Please tread carefully before you continue

I’ve been going to Catholic schools since I was 3. I went to a catholic elementary school in Ontario for about 10 years before going to my current Catholic high school

At my elementary school, when I was in fourth grade, one of the girls in my class was struggling with her mental health. Her dad had died a few years before then (by the way, our school NEVER gave her a safe space to discuss what was going on in her life) and she had been through some other shit

Now, in fourth grade, I didn’t know anyone in my class except for her (there were around 70 kids in my grade, I didn’t know a lot of people). So we hung out that year. Some days, she was in a great headspace and was happy and we got along great. She was funny, smart, nice, easy to talk to, and she was probably the first friend I had that I had anything in common with

But as I mentioned, she was seriously struggling. About once a week (at the minimum), she would have what I am going to refer to as an ‘episode’ because I really don’t know any other way to put it. She would scream, throw things, chase people around the class with scissors, and just overall torment me and my classmates. It got so bad that the entire class had to be brought into the hall for our own safety on more than one occasion

Our of everyone in the class, she harassed me the most. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m guessing it had something to do with her own self-sabatoge since I was pretty much the only person there for her that entire year

One time she tried to cut my throat. Another time she threw a textbook at my head. She followed me around for almost six hours straight, calling me names and harassing me.

None of this was a secret from our teachers. They all knew about this. Our principals knew about this. Half the school knew about this. But none of the adults, who were responsible for keeping us safe, did anything.

They let it slide. They sent her to the office (the principals did nothing). They brought us out of the class, but didn’t ever do anything to help her to stop her episodes or to help her with any of her issues. In fact, just so they could all avoid doing their jobs, they hired college students to come in and talk to me and her at recess a couple days a week. I feel so bad for those girls since they were busy with school and exams, but they had to help out two extremely traumatized and extremely fucked up kids

One time this girl tried to kill me. And I mean this seriously— she came at me and tried to cut my throat with a pair of scissors. There were three eye witnesses (outside of myself and the girl). There was footage of it on the security cameras. And the girl started chasing people with scissors after I ran away from her. Our principals did nothing. Our teacher did nothing.

I asked my parents and teacher and principals to move me to the other class because I couldn’t be around that girl. She tormented me, and I was terrified to go to school because I didn’t know if it was going to be a good day or if she was going to attack me and scream at me. I was terrified of the building, and that year led to a lot of the issues with school and mental illness that I have to deal with now. They didn’t move me. They switched desks and put mine right next to hers. Like, the fuck was wrong with those asshats?

Also, me and this girl were walking around the halls during indoor recess one time and heard our teacher shit talking me, her, and this one other kid we were sort-of friends with. He called her psychotic, called me ‘at fault for (the girls) episodes and aiding (the girls) delusions’ and made fun of our other friend for having a high pitched voice. Like, we were nine? I wasn’t responsible for this girl trying to kill me and having episodes all the time. She wasn’t psychotic, she just had some issues she needed to work out, and she needed help with it from adults. And our friend was allowed to have a high pitched voice, he was nine! Don’t make fun of nine year olds who are clearly dealing with some shit!

We told the principal what happened, and the mother fucking teacher got a raise. We asked the principal why, and he said ‘well, he’s retiring this year, and it’s not fair that he has to deal with all of this’. It’s not fair that I had to deal with that, either! Let the crusty old dude get into shit for making fun of nine year olds!

At the end of the year, my teacher had the AUDACITY to send an email to my mom, to thank me for ‘sticking by that girl even when it was difficult, and for supporting her’. Like, bitch, you mean doing your job and putting my nine year old self at risk? Shut the fuck up and help your students when they’re going through shit!

Now, if you’re wondering why I hung out with this girl, there’s a couple reasons.

My teachers, principles, and parents told me that she needed me around, and that she’d been through shit. They told me that she really did care about me, and she needed a friend. That her dad had died so she was allowed to abuse me. More or less, all the adults in my life said that she was struggling, and that her happiness was more important than my safety

As I said before, when she was having a good day, I loved hanging out with her and talking to her. She was really nice, and the first semi-real friend I ever had

I got an eating disorder that year, that still affects my life 6 years later. I got anxiety and depression from that year (there are other causes of it, but it is a big part of the reason). I now have a crippling fear of school and other people, as well as extreme trust issues. I have serious self worth issues and let people push me around because that year I was taught that I could be beaten and bruised and murdered if it made other people happy. I have suicidal ideation and cut myself because of the trauma I endured that year.

The school system did nothing to help. They let that girl fester in her issues and take them out on others, permanently traumatizing and scarring me in the process

And I started talking to that girl again about three years ago, after she’d chilled out and I wasn’t terrified of her anymore. She told me she would have killed herself if it weren’t for me. That her mom was still mourning, the rest of her family hated her, that our teachers didn’t care, and that I was the only one actually there for her. I don’t regret being there for her at that time. She’s one of my best friends and I would hate if she had killed herself

But it’s shitty that the only person supporting her at the time was me. If she had have gone through with it, it would’ve been my fault. I was the only thing keeping her from dying. And that terrifies me. I can’t even be trusted to keep myself from dying at this point.

This is just one of many, many, many stories I have about how fucked up schools are, and not just in the US. I don’t have to worry about getting shot, but my old school is still fucked up, and my current school is a little fucked as well. Let me know if you want to hear any more stories from my experience at Catholic school, or with this girl, or whatever.

#school #mental illness #tw depressing stuff #tw eating stuff #tw mental illness #tw psychotic episodes #tw abuse #adults don’t do shit #school is fucked up #Canada #catholic school

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seapandora · 3 years

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Illusion, Part 3/?

Illusion｜Part 3/?

Bucky x oc!Lori

Warnings: Angst, betrayal, swearing, torture, violence

A/N: Part 3 already. And so many more parts to go! I´d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired of this particualr fic every now and then. Luckily for me, my brain knew this would happen. So, the old full part 3 and 4 are both done. Now I just have to edit them. I hope you guys enjoyed this holiday themed part, the next two parts will also be hoiday themed. I wanted them to be released before Christmas, but oh well… Again I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Comment/ share and like if you can! GIF-cred to owner as always! Holler if you want to be put on the taglist!

Summary: Reader is a supersoldier, one of a number, one of nine. Hydra´s backup for the asset. The group was started in 1974 and has been working under the radar, training for the day when the asset no longer exists. Lori is the only one left. Left in a cryo, she wasn’t discovered until 2023 when a certain captain and his buddy found her.

Words: 6557

Taglist: @selfsun

2024

December was a weird month. It was dark and gloomy, but full of light and happiness. Bucky had been planning the trip to Steve for a while. He was always visiting Steve around Christmas-time, but he had a special plan this time. Lori would come with him, Sam would too. But it was the first time Lori would meet Steve. She knew all about him by now. Steve knew off her, but seeing as he wasn´t military or an avenger anymore, and he didn´t have access to her files. He only knew what Bucky had told him.

Lori had been made aware of the plans in advance so that she could plan a good gift for Americas golden boy. Even if the stories Bucky had told her didn´t paint him in that light. She liked hearing Bucky talk about Steve, and the time before the war. He had retrieved most of his memories from that time, but he liked talking about it because it made him feel less like a monster. Lori had thought long and hard about what she would get Steve. She really wanted to impress him.

December 23rd rolled around a lot quicker than anyone had expected, despite December being a very quiet month, with just one, very simple, mission. This was the day they were visiting Steve in his cabin. Peggy had passed away a few years earlier. Despite Steve going back in time, he hadn´t been able to change Peggys destiny, or her cause of death. It had taken a toll on the former Captain, but he was beginning to be happy, finally. He had his art and the occasional visit from his friends, and of course he had the kids he had made with Peggy.

Bucky was beyond nervous for letting the two super-soldiers meet, but he was looking forward to hear Steves thoughts on Lori. He was driving with Lori and Sam. The others had been sent on a mission the night before, and would be home that afternoon, meaning they missed out on meeting Steve. They had all agreed to go meet up with Steve around New Years instead. Lori sat in the back listening to music while Sam sat besides Bucky. They were bickering like always and Lori had decided music was the best way to cut them out.

“Newbie, hey Lori… Are you even listening?” Sam asked and reached back to grab her leg. Lori wisely moved her leg out of the way and slapped Sams arm. “What do you want potoo?” She asked and raised her eyebrows at the man in the passenger seat. She had taken to calling him potoo about a month ago, for no other reason than to piss him off. At first Sam hadn´t understood the joke but he had done some research and found out that potoos were weird-looking birds with crazy eyes. He wasn´t ashamed to admit that he was offended at first, but only until he realized that Lori would have had to go out of her way to look up weird birds to give him a nickname that was special to her, and her alone. After he realized that he had no issues with it. “We´re about to arrive so put your shoes and jacket on,” he explained and nodded to a small cabin showing up on the road in front of them.

She did as she was told. She wasn´t sure why, but Sam had accepted her as if she was his younger sister and despite everything, Lori trusted Sam. More than anyone really. Apart from Bucky of course, but Bucky was different. Much between Lori and Bucky was different. Bucky was the first one Lori had opened up to. She had already told him a lot about herself and her time with Hydra. He knew about most of the bad stuff she had been forced into. He had also seen her at her worst.

In October Lori had begun showing signs of post traumatic stress disorder, a disorder Helen had later given her. It had started with Lori being unable to sleep and she had instead stayed up for longer than she should. When she did start sleeping she had nightmares, bad ones. They were about her time in Hydra. Some were just filled with images of the people she had killed, others were about her missions. But most of her nightmares were about the punishments Hydra would give her. The nights they would tie her to a bed and torture her.

Lori would wake up in tears, and she wouldn´t dare to go back to sleep after that. One rainy, cold night Lori had gotten up and walked to Buckys room. She was originally planning to go to Sam and talk to him, but something had enticed her to go to Bucky instead. Her subconcious had said Bucky would understand her situation better. He had been awake and he had let Lori sleep in his bed curled up to his chest for the rest of the night. He had read somewhere that hearing calming sounds, such as rain patter, or a heartbeat, could be helpful, and thats what he tried to be.

That was the first night in a few weeks she had slept well. From that night Bucky made sure that Friday watched Lori during the nights, and he would be right outside knocking on her door when Friday alerted him to changes in her sleep. Lori really appreciated it. She appreciated Bucky for wanting to help her, and wanting the best for her. He was constantly there for her, even when she didnt know she needed him.

The air hit her as Sam opened the door for her. She was in the midst of tying her left shoe. It was cold, enough for both Lori and Bucky to want a jacket, and Sam was wearing a thicker jacket. He didnt have super-soldier serum, so he wasn´t as resistent to the cold as the two others. Being who he was he often complained about it as well, and he could become very grumpy when Lori or Bucky weren´t cold. It wasn´t fair in his books. He grumbled as he pulled the jacket closer around himself while Bucky and Lori kept theirs opened.

Steve was standing on the little patio in front of the cabin leaning on his cane. “I´ve got a fire going inside and Brooke made us all hot chocolate before she left, so come inside and get comfortable,” he said and smiled before he walked back into his cabin. Sam and Bucky followed after him while Lori took a bit longer. She didn´t analyze her surroundings, she trusted Bucky and Sam and their judgment. If they felt safe in the environment, so did Lori. Bucky looked back to her and chuckled before he stretched his hand out to her. “Come on slow-poke,” he chuckled and watched as Lori took some slow steps up the stairs.

Lori gently took Buckys hand and let him guide her inside. They all took of their shoes, considering Steve himself claimed to be old to want to vaccuum every second day. Bucky helped Lori with her jacket and hung it up for her before they made their way further into the cabin. The seating area was small, and felt smaller with the original supersoldier, and the first winter soldier. Sure Steve had lost a bit of his muscle mass but he was still tall and he filled up a space like no bodys business. Bucky was just buff in general, muscular, tall-ish, and his broad shoulders really made him look bigger. Sam wasn´t as big as the other two, but he was still tall and muscular. Lori wasn´t small either, but she had a very different baseline from which the serum worked.

They all sat in silence for a while until Sam coughed a bit. “So Steve, meet Lori,” he said and gestured to Lori who waved shyly from her seat besides Bucky. “Lori, where are you from? I´ve heard a bit about you, but when were you born? And where?” He asked with a kind smile. He didn´t want to overdo things already, but he needed to know who she was before he trusted her. Before he could trust her to be around Bucky. Lori looked at him and played with her fingers. “Ehum, I was born in 1959 inSweden,” she answered and looked down at her hands. She didn´t feel intimidated by the supersoldier, but she felt like she had to show him respect. He was older, wiser and a better human being than she was.

Steve nodded and proceeded to ask Bucky and Sam about their latest mission. All to allow Lori to warm up to him. He didn´t want her to be nervous around him, he wanted her to consider him an ally, someone she could talk to if she needed. Lori stayed close to Bucky but looked around Steves cabin. There were one or two famous paintings as well as a few black and white sketches. Some were clearly of Peggy, a woman Lori would recognize anywhere. A few were of Bucky and Steve from what seemed like way back, possibly the time of the war. A few were simple landscapes, around the compound area. Lori had been on enough runs to recognize the scenery. Steve watched her and looked up at the sketches. “What do you think?” He asked and smiled at Lori.

She looked to Steve and then back to the sketches. “They´re beautiful. But I can´t say I´m not feeling a little uneasy by seeing a different Bucky.” She explained and sighed as she glanced to the Bucky she knew. “Oh, he isn´t different. Not really anyways, just hardened by what happened to him. When I see him I still see the Bucky from the 30´s and 40´s. He just takes longer to show that side of himself.” Steve argued and stood up. “Come with me, I´ll show you more sketches,” he said and smiled as he walked towards a room to the north of the cabin. Lori stood up as well and followed Steve.

The room was smaller than Lori had expected, but it didn´t have any furniture apart from a desk and a chair. However the walls were filled with pencil sketches. It was sketches of everything between heaven and hell. She looked around in awe and crossed her arms over her stomach. Sure the room wasn´t big but Lori felt small around the art. It was so beautiful, and meaningful, without Steve having to say so. Lori looked closer on a specific sketch of Bucky. She checked the date on it and realized it had been done in the summer of 2018. That meant it was done after the snap, Bucky was gone by then. Steve noticed her looking at it and sighed. “We lost everything in the snap. For a few months I didn´t know what I was going to do.” Steve said softly and sighed as he sat down on the chair.

“Natasha took over the Avengers, or whatever it was by then. I couldn´t be around it all, I didn´t want to be around it all. I took over Sam´s VA-group, not that it was a VA-group by then. It was a way to help people understand what had happened.” Steve said quietly and drummed his fingers on the table. “I spent most of the five years sketching and trying to help people. I owed that to the world.” He continued. Lori looked at him and frowned. “But you did save the world. You reversed the snap, and you saved those who had been taken,” Lori exclaimed and tilted her head.

Steve smirked a bit and shook his head. “I wasn´t alone in doing that, and Tony was the one to actually reverse it. “He said and rubbed the back of his head. Sitting there at his desk in front of the window with the snow falling outside, he looked lonely. “As true as that might be. I read that you were the one to inspire him to come back. That without you two making up, the world wouldn´t have been saved.” Lori said as her eyes slid over a sketch of Iron Man himself. Steve had sketches of all the team-members, well the original team-members at least.

“You and Bucky, huh?” He asked and Lori froze before she snapped her head towards Steve. “Wha… what? Me and Bucky, what?” She asked and looked terrified for a second before the look turned into confusion. “Oh you two aren´t fondueing?” He asked with a smirk, which he dropped as he saw the utter confusion on Lori´s face. “You´re not a couple? Youre not dating?” He asked instead and stood up from the chair. Lori just shook her head with a frown. “Oh wow, I´m sorry. It´s just the way you look at each other and the way you talk to each other and touch each other,” he said trying to explain his questions.

Lori looked down at her hands and sighed. “I… I like Bucky. He´s… he´s been very udnerstanding with me. I feel like there´s a trust between us that I´ve never had before. I really like Sam too, but more like a brother than anything.” She mumbled and picked at her fingers, a sign Steve often saw in people who were nervous. “Have you told Bucky about how you feel, or has he talked to you?” Steve asked and looked at her with interest. “No, no, no, I´m pretty sure he doesn´t feel that way,” Lori said quickly and put her hands up. Steve gave her a knowing look but nodded. “Alright, well I´m sorry I spoke on it when I was clearly unaware of the real situation. But please talk to Bucky about it. I´m sure it will all work out!” He said with a smile before he led Lori back into the livingroom.

Bucky looked up as Steve and Lori came back in. “Has he shown you all his sketches now?” He asked with a smile before he stood up to get the bag of gifts they had brought over. Lori smiled at Bucky and nodded her head. She couldn´t shake the feeling of what Steve had told her, and asked her about. She really hoped she´d get over it soon enough. She wasnt sure she was ready to make any of her feelings known. And she wasn´t even sure Bucky would care.

1973

Spring had rolled in with tons of rain. Lori wasn´t allowed outside but she heard it through the nights, and water was running down the cement-walls of her cell. It was wet and cold. Lori

hated it. She had never done anything to deserve this. She had never hurt a soul, she never wanted to hurt anyone. Now that was the only thing she did. Her captors forced her against soldiers every day, and so far she hadn´t lost one fight. If she had she wouldn´t be around. She did her best to stay in their good graces to not be tortured.

It had been a success, they hadn´t tied her to a bed in months. That meant Lori hadn´t been in any pain she couldn´t handle in a long time. If relief was a feeling she could still have she had it now. They had also given her a better mattress and a thicker blanket. It was awful that this was what Lori had begun to associate with something good. But her current situation had turned into being her new safe, her new norm.

She had just been woken up by loud banging in the hallway outside her cell. She had immediately gone into a fighting stance. Her entire existence was based on defeating others. Guards entered her room, there was five or six of them now, considering Lori had become quite strong since they started the super-serum experiment on her. She could easily take down two of the guards at once, but she had issues taking down four or more guards, they were quite strong themselves.

They blindfolded Lori and brought her out of the cell and past her usual training rooms. She knew the hallways fairly well by now. She was more scared when she felt fresh air and rain on her skin. She was outside. They had taken her outside. Lori hadn´t been outside since she was taken. It was strange, and she was now terrified. Would they kill her? Shoot her and dump her into a hole and then cover it up? Lori didn´t know and she wasn´t sure she wanted to know.

Lori could hear the sound of a car close by but she didn´t have time to think about it before she was pushed into the backseat of a car. She was uncomfortable but her arms weren´t tied so she could adjust herself. The guards told her to stay put, and she didn´t dare do anything else. The car started to move and Lori held on to the seats. She didn´t have any sense of direction and had to struggle against falling over whenever the car took a turn.

After an hour or so the car stopped and Lori felt hands tugging at her arms. She moved her legs out of the car and then the rest of her body. The hands guided her down some stairs and into some sort of damp bunker-like area. The floor was rough and Lori wasn´t wearing any shoes. It was clearly cement but she could smell something metallic and her best guess was that it was either the piping, of the bunker-like place, or iron covered walls.

She was dragged to a room which was slightly warmer. After the experiment, Lori had become more aware of her surroundings. It was as if an entirely different part of her brain had been unlocked. The blindfold was removed and she blinked at the light and squinted her eyes. She refrained from reaching up to cover her eyes from the light. Her bad aclimatizing to the light meant she wasn´t ready for the slap that landed on her left cheek abrubtly turning her head. Lori groaned and closed her eyes again. She didn´t reach up to touch her cheek. There wasn´t any need to, that wouldnt be the last hit.

2024

The quartet ate smores and drank hot chocolate while exchanging gifts with each other. Well it was really the three avengers giving gifts to the retired avenger. They had gotten together and brainstormed Steves gifts one night and had then gone their separate ways to get them. Bucky had gotten Steve a new set of Aquarells and generally new supplies since he knew Steve was always running low by the end of the year. Sam had managed to get a deal on a warehouse just a few blocks away which now was Steves. It was a place he could store either his sketches or furniture from his house to fill it with more sketches.

Lori who barely knew Steve, but wanted to be liked by him, had gone all out. She had gifted him with a paid vacation to the Stockholm archepelago. It was the city she was from and she had always loved the ocean as a kid. Steve quickly declined her gift but Lori insisted. It was her wish that Steve would get to go there and make beautiful sketches in peace and not have to worry about anyone else. She had seen some of his landscape sketches and knew he could do amazing things with the right view.

They stayed for a bit longer, but decided that they should head back at around 3 pm. Steve had his family arriving later in the evening and wanted to clean up a bit, and the three avengers had to get back to the compound to start setting up things for christmas. They also had to get a tree on their way back. Sam asked Bucky to drop him halfway home. He had a few buisness to attend to. Bucky and Lori could get the tree themselves. The tree-farm was quite close to the compound, just one turn off actually. Bucky pulled up to the forest area and got out of the car pulling his jacket a bit tighter. They didn´t really get cold anymore but the wind still made his skin crawl.

A perfect tree stood right in front of them. Bucky thought it was perfect at least. Nearly every tree was perfect in his mind. He really didn´t care too much. Celebrating Christmas was something he did just for the others, he himself didn´t feel much of a connection to the holiday. Most of his previous ones had been spent killing or sleeping. He looked over to Lori, well, where she was supposed to be, but he couldnt find her. “Lori?” He called out and began to look around the trees to see if he could find her. The trees were quite a bit taller than Bucky and Lori was shorter than Bucky. She could have easily sneaked off and he wouldn´t be able to find her. She was a spy after all, and she had been trained by some of the best.

If she didn´t want to be found Bucky wouldn´t find her, but he did start to panick a bit when he had been searching for a few minutes. It wasn´t a big place, she couldn´t just disappear. He had half a mind to try and call her when she came out from behind a tree looking for him. “Where did you go?” He asked with his voice slightly raised. “You can´t just run off,” he explained and sighed as he noticed Lori moving back a bit. He quickly realized it was because he raised his voice at her. He shook his head and held her hands up. “I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to raise my voice at you, I was worried. Did you find a tree you like?” He asked and gave Lori a soft smile to try and ease the blow from before.

Lori nodded and pointed in the direction of a row of trees a bit further into the farm. It was obvious why they had been placed farther away from where people would typically go. The trees were smaller and less perfect. Not awful, just slightly less ideal for a Christmas tree. “Are you sure doll? The compound is pretty big and we want a tree that can flourish in the environment, right?” He asked as he looked at the trees. If it truly was what Lori wanted he wouldn´t argue and he wouldn´t complain. Lori looked over at Bucky and pouted a bit. “I know they´re not traditionally beautiful, but there´s a charm to them, don´t you agree?” She asked softly and touched one of the trees´ branches.

Bucky didn´t have the strength to say no to her so he simply nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Pick whichever one you like the most,” he said, defeat clear in his voice. He wasn´t actually upset with it though, why would he be? It was just a christmas tree. Lori walked around for a bit longer before she decided on a tree that stood around 5´6 feet tall. Bucky happened to know the average christmas tree was 7 ft tall. He hadn´t googled that, nope, not at all… He hadn´t googled Swedish Christmas traditions to be able to give Lori something sepcial either. Not that he had found much, and he felt like he had to talk to Lori about it before he put his plan to work.

They got the tree into the car and Bucky drove them back to the compound once they had paid for the tree. “I was looking online for something I could do for you and I found some old, well not old, traditions. Like a showing of Donald Duck, or something at 3 pm Swedish time, which is like 9 am here, tomorrow. I´ve fixed us a VPN so you can watch it if you´d like.” He said and stared hard at the road ahead of them. Lori glanced at him and smiled to herself. “I haven´t seen the Donald Duck Christmas showing since I was five or something, I´d love to watch it.” She answered and hugged herself as she curled up in the seat. It was beautiful outside, quiet and light. The road to the compound was mostly unused. The lower-level agents had all gotten the holidays off and if any situation came up the Avengers were stepping in. They had had a few months off when Lori was found and were now getting that time back.

Considering the compound was empty the snow was clean, and it was glimmering in the light of the car. It was dark out by now, but a few lanterns had been placed along the road, which meant it wasn´t pitchblack. Lori looked out the window and let out a silent sigh. Her first couple of Christmas celebrations had been amazing, but around the age of 8 or so her mother had stopped caring about making christmas special for Lori. She was rarely home ,and if she was she had been drunk and Lori´s christmas had been ruined. Her father had never been around and she didn´t have any other family.

Bucky patted her leg and hummed. “So Donald Duck tomorrow. Would you like your present tomorrow as well. I read that that was also a tradition?” He asked and frowned a bit. Lori looked at him and chuckled. “You´ve surely done youre homework. Yes we do get our presents the 24th, but I dont mind waiting until the 25th, it´s not a big deal,” she explained and shrugged. Bucky nodded and smiled. “Alright, well I want you to tell me what you want from this Christmas. It´s your first in many many years, and I want you to enjoy it!” He said as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Lori blushed and bit her lip. “I´m sure I´ll enjoy it as long as the team is around. You guys have done so much for me and I feel like you are all family to me.” she mumbled and pulled at the sleeves of her sweater which were sticking out under the sleeves of her jacket. Bucky smiled and reached over to take her hand. “We are your family, and you will always be safe with us.” He said and stroke the back of her hand.

Sure the two had spent nights together, after nightmares, but it had just been cuddles and hugs. But this felt different? Or maybe that was just Lori overthinking. Had something happened at Steves, or did she just now start to see the way Bucky interacted with her. He was always attentive to her needs and he always seemed to put her thoughts, and wishes first.

Bucky pulled into the garage at the compound and Lori got out of the car and got to open the trunk to get the tree. She wasn´t quick enough, and only managed to get the trunk open before Bucky gently nudged her out of the way and picked the tree up. Lori huffed a bit but backed away to give Bucky some space. “You could have just said you wanted to take it, instead of pushing me over,” she said and crossed her arms. Bucky laughed at her antics. “Hey did you want to carry it? I don´t mind” he shrugged. Lori shook her head and pouted. “No, you choose this, now you have to live with that choice,” She said and stomped over to the door holding it open for him.

She may be pouty but she wasn´t an asshole. Bucky chuckled once more and walked through the door she held open. “Thank you, do you want to go freshen up before we start decorating? I think the team is back, so you can catch up with Wanda and Peter if he´s still here” Bucky said. He didn´t want to crowd her or take up all of her time when he was certain that she and Wanda had a lot of things to talk about. They had grown so close in the past month. Lori had also gotten close to the young Parker-boy. Something that made Bucky a little uneasy at first, but he had quickly realized Lori only saw Peter as a younger brother, someone who helped her with technology and such.

Wanda made herself known quickly with a loud squeal as she ran to Lori to hug her. Lori hugged her back tightly and laughed a bit as Wanda showed her images of the mission. She often did that if it was something funny that one of the others didn´t want to be shared. Wanda pulled her to the kitchen so they could get something to eat and drink. Bucky was in turn left to his own demise as he was carrying the tree. He placed it down in the livingroom before he got Thor and Loki to help him get some decorations. They had a few boxes in the attic and Bucky didn´t feel like taking a million trips up and down the elevator.

The two gods had become regulars at the compound. Loki liked Lori a lot, she was just as tricky as he was and she liked to play pranks on Sam and Peter. She had learned a few from Loki. Of course she didn´t have his magic, but he shared what he could on “normal” tricks. Lori was a quick learner. Loki had tried to implement magic into it but Lori wasn´t having any of it. It wasnt fair considering neither Sam nor Peter was magical. Both of the gods had been very keen on letting Lori in on their story. Her favorite storyline so far was what had happened with Hela. She liked the fact that facing Hela had brought out the best in the brothers. Thor had been able to harnes his complete power and Loki had learned he wasn´t entirely bad.

All the christmas decorations had been moved down from the attic by Bucky and the gods while Lori was catching up with Wanda and Peter. Sam had made his way back to the compound as well during that time. Once Lori was all caught up on the mission the three of them made their way to the livingroom where they saw all the boxes with decorations. Lori looked around and frowned a bit. “We figured you´d want to take charge of the decorating,” Bucky explained as he looked around at all the boxes. Lori looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I´definitely going to need some help,” She replied and huffed softly. Bucky laughed and nodded. “We´ll all help you, don´t worry about that” he smiled and got to setting the tree up. The foot needed assembling and well, the girls didn´t seem too interested and the gods had no idea what to do. Sam had already given up any sort of responsibility when it came to decorating.

Lori walked over to a box and opened it to see what was inside. Ornaments of all colours, shapes and sizes met her. She wasn´t a big fan of, over the top, decorating, and instead wanted to go for something more simple. She wanted the tree to look beautiful, and so her colors of choice were red and silver. It was simplistic but it fit them all. Well apart from Loki, but they would have reindeers up and around the compound. The rest of the avengers had grey or red incorportated into their suits and daily clothes. It would all feel more close-knit to Lori if she could see colors she felt comfortable with.

Wanda helped her a bit and used her powers to hang the ornaments in the windows and such. Peter was busy setting his aunts room up, for when she was coming over for Christmas. The gods were mostly standing around watching Lori and Wanda pick ornaments and decorate the livingroom. After a little while they moved to the kitchen and then the hallways. Bucky looked around after a little while noticing Lori and Wanda had left the room. He had been so invested in making sure the tree was standing safetly. “Hey where did Lori go?” He asked the gods who nodded towards the hallway.

He walked slowly wanting to give Lori and Wanda as much time as possible to hang their decorations, but he needed a few minutes alone with Lori. He found the two women after just a short while and smiled at their decorating skills. It was a bit of a mess actually but that was a later problem. “Hey Lori, can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked and frowned as he crossed his arms and waited for her go ahead. Lori tilted her head and thought for a second before she looked at Wanda, who nodded in approval. “I´ll finish up this hallway,” she said and nudged Lori towards Bucky. Lori groaned but walked over to Bucky ready to follow him, wherever he wanted to go.

Bucky smiled and held out his hand for Lori to take before he guided her down the hall to his room. He wanted them to have some privacy. Lori happily took his hand and followed him to his room. She wasn´t sure what he wanted to talk about but she was sure she wouldn´t mind. She liked the alone time she spent with Bucky. She took a quick look around Buckys room before she sat down on his bed, to which he had motioned. Bucky sat down besides her and turned to her taking both of Lori´s hands in his own. He was constantly in awe of how Lori didn´t seem to mind his metal arm and hand. She had no issues with the coldness that came from it. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?” Lori asked as she looked at Bucky. He looked so different from the pictures she had seen in his file. His hair was short, but she liked it. She understood why he had cut his hair. It was a reminder of his time with Hydra, and cutting it off was a way to leave that behind.

His hands were shaking slightly as he took a deep breath. “I… I´ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. Steve talked to me today, avbout it. And I kind of realized I had to… yeah I had to do this today,” he said and sighed. “Lori… I, I´m in love with you,” he said quietly and looked down at their hands. He could feel Lori freeze, her hands went stiff but she soon seemed to relax. She lot go of his metal hand and gently gripped Buckys chin to tilt his head up. He looked at her and felt his face heat up under her gaze. Blushing wasn´t something he was used to, emotions even less so.

Lori smiled and leaned forward pressing her lips against Buckys. She could feel him still for a second before he melted into the kiss and grabbed her hand a little tighter. “Does… does this mean you feel the same?” Bucky asked as they broke for air. Lori giggled and nodded. “Yeah, I like you too,” she said and gave him a quick kiss. “How about we get back out, and we finish up decorating,. Eat some good food, and then I´ll be all yours tonight if you want, or we could go for a whole lot of cuddles,” she said and bit her lip before she stood up and wiped her hands on her pants. Bucky stood up as well and hummed. “I´d like to spend the evening with you, but I have to go out and get some last minute presents,” he sighed.

1973

Her new bosses where hard on her. She hadn´t been this beaten up in a long time, maybe that was why she had been moved. It didn´t do her any good to dwell on it however, and hence she didn´t after the first day. She learned to follow orders, she learned not to talk back. She learned to be a compliant soldier.

The schedule she had been put on was brutal. At most she got four hours of undisturbed sleep, and those days she was lucky. Usually the nights were filled with screams making it near impossible to sleep more than a few minutes at the time. The days were filled with drills and training. She was trained in different languages, dancing, and general spy-subjects.

In the few weeks she had been in her new prison she had learned proper french and russian. From before she had been forced to learn german and spanish. Swedish and english were languages she had known from before Hydra. She had overheard her captors talk about her learning italian and arabic as well.

And she did, it took her months but by mid august Lori was almost a perfect spy. The only thing she was lacking was the field-experience. And she would get that sooner than she thought. The very same month to be precise. It wasn´t a big mission, and it wouldn´t matter a lot if Lori failed, even if she would be punished hard if she did. But there was no risk in it for Hydra.

It was supposedly a simple elimination-mission, and the target wasn´t anyone too famous, but they had become a small threat to Hydra. Lori started by stalking the target for two days, they were simple, and obsessive about their schedule. Lori was able to take them out on her third day. She was then collected by Hydra and taken back to her prison without as much as a thank you or confirmation that she had done a good job.

When they got back to the holding place she was taken to her cell and left there for a few days. It wasn´t until five days later she got her next meal, and only after she had been through a thorough beating which left her forgetting her own name. When she came too she was back in her cell with half-eaten food in front of her and a small glass of water. She didn´t trust it for a second but swallowed it all down in seconds.

Her trust would earn her another beating. She wasn´t supposed to trust anything that was half eaten. She was not to make that mistake again, she was told. That was the first night in months she had cried herself to sleep. At the old place she had had a mattress and a nice blanket, now she had neither. She had her clothes to cushion the floor and to cover her from the cold in the room.

She had never thought it could get worse, but these new people. They were pure evil and Lori knew they would break her, and if they didn´t someone else would get the chance. That was her curse, ever since she became a super soldier. People wanted to break her, to be able to rebuild her.

#winter soldier #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x oc #winter soldier x oc #avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #winter solider fanfiction #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction

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stephinsshortstories · 3 years

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Story 2.1: Student Lounge Smoothies

(Part 1, I hope?) A confession from one athlete to another, and all the anxiety that comes with it. Sometimes you just gotta swallow that lump in your throat and shoot your shot!

Like 1.1, this story is one of my most “realistic” premises. That means a believable setup, and no magic or plot tomfoolery! Themes include wlw crushes, the dynamics of asking someone out, and other beautifully human experiences.

This is another fairly early work of mine, and it’s written from a perspective I have only partially experienced myself, so it’s a bit of an experiment! Please share constructive critique if you’ve got it.

While the following story doesn’t contain overtly sexual content, I still ask those under the age of 18 to pass on it. Also, be warned, it can take up a lot of space on your dash!

The locker room flooded with bodies quickly. It was Friday, everyone was desperate to get changed and get out, and Coach Theresa always made Friday workouts the worst. “To make sure nobody gets lazy,” she’d say. The atmosphere hung heavy with sweat and a generally ubiquitous urge to not be there longer than necessary.

Like most of the university lacrosse team, Kate was in a hurry to split.

“Dammit…” she whispered to herself, seeing the line forming for the showers. She hadn’t muscled her way in enough in the initial rush; most of the team beat her to the stalls. Still, she decided with a groan, they were faster than going back to her dorm.

Not being able to do much before a proper shower, Kate waffled for time. She hang restlessly at her locker, watching small pockets of conversation ripple through her teammates. A couple of her friends passed her on the way out, and she resolved with them to hang out in the student union tomorrow night, and threw in a few jovial complaints about their Molecular Bio lab project. Kate watched a majority of the girls trickle out over ten, maybe fifteen minutes, and silently castigated herself for not pushing more every time someone left. How very freshman of her.

Nineteen, and still can’t grow a goddam spine, she thought.

By the time Kate finally got in and out of a shower, only a few of her teammates remained. Trish, Gina, and Dana were discussing something by their lockers, Yasmin was tying her shoes to leave, and someone whose name she tentatively thought was… Verdana? Verona? Whoever. She was stuffing dirty clothes into a drawstring bag.

Nobody’s really focused on me… I think I’m okay to get changed, Kate reported to herself. Equal parts social anxiety, shyness over changing publicly, and shyness over her outfit made her tense and hyper-vigilant. Today even more than usual. When she’d first arrived on campus in the fall, some new friends had quietly and coyly recommended her a certain club downtown. Now was finally the Friday night Kate had mustered the courage to go out, and really experience nightlife… her parents had been pretty strict, and while she’d had her fair share of boyfriends (and a few very secret stints with some girls, as experiments), the hot, neon, underground appeal of a real nightclub represented a whole new level of tantalizing freedom. Dances, drinks, the like…

Kate shook herself from the daydream and began to quickly put herself together. Along with clothes and shower gear, she had a makeup kit and a brush with her - she planned on meeting her friends downtown right after practice. However, after just a few minutes, less than half dressed…

“Hey. Katelyn, right?” a voice over her shoulder asked. Kate jumped. Wheeling around quickly, she was met face-to-face by the toned, imposing figure of Quinn Baker, the team captain, standing over her. She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah! Uh - yeah. Kate. What’s up?” Kate stammered, finally regaining composure halfway through.

“Quinn. Captain Quinn. Yeah, yeah, good to meet ya - can we talk for a minute?” Quinn was still wet, and was wearing a t-shirt and a towel on her waist - she must’ve been in the shower when Kate had scanned the room.

“Yeah, uh - sure, what do you need?” Kate was startled sick, which turned to heavy nervousness; the only reason she could think of for a captain to be pulling aside a random freshman on a team dozens strong would be for a chew-out. Kate’s mind was racing, but she was utterly sure that that would be the last thing she could handle right now.

“I just wanted to ask you a few things,” Quinn, noticing Kate sweating bullets, tried to ease back. “Nobody’s in trouble… but for starters, thanks for picking lax, always good to see new recruits and all.”

“Uh, yeah, I played it through high school, wanted to stick with it here. Nice to meet you… what did you need to ask me?”

“Well, kinda a lie, I more want to talk to you than ask you stuff. First of all, I take it you have plans tonight? You seemed to be getting dressed up in a hurry. Most people don’t wait long for shower here.”

“Yeah, meeting some friends at a restaurant downtown. The walk back to the dorm would’ve taken longer…”

“Fair enough. But Kate, you don’t need to bullshit me. It’s not a restaurant, is it?

Kate began to sweat again. She didn’t mean to lie, but saying she was going clubbing to the team captain wasn’t a good plan. Quinn continued, as if reading her mind,

“Probably clubbing or something, right? That seems a bit better fitting for a sleeved tube top and jeans. Don’t worry. Everybody’s played the fake-ID game at some point. I’m not gonna cut you from the team or anything for it. But I also take it from how buggy you are right now (and the outfit) that this is gonna be your first time. Nervous and shit, right?”

“Right. Going to a place a few friends whispered to me about,” Kate blushed. Quinn seemed cool, anyway… she was standing really close.

“Yeah,” Quinn leaned against the bank of lockers and folded her arms. “And I also figure you’re interested in more than drinks… you may want to stuff those in a zip pocket.”

Kate blushed much harder, pushing the two condom packets deeper into the coin pocket on her jeans and averting her gaze. Arms folded under the chest, she couldn’t help but think, was a good look for Quinn…

“And-“ Quinn lowered her voice, speaking subtly- “you didn’t zip your bag all the way. Those pins on the jacket in there… you’re interested in an overnight, not necessarily with a guy… aren’t you?”

“Uh! I dunno-! I-“ Kate’s face flared red and she began to panic, eyes darting around. She clenched her bag to her chest nervously. She wasn’t comfortable pinning down a sexual preference yet, and had hoped the club excursions would help her find out. The pins on her jacket were a plan to attract anyone she could - now, mortifyingly, she was found out. By the captain of her lacrosse team, no less.

“Listen. Calm down, or you’ll out yourself before anyone else. Don’t freak out, I’ve been there too. Most people have. I’m not gonna repeat it. But I am gonna tell you this - the age restrictions on clubs are there for a reason, and it isn’t just the booze. As a senior, let me tell you to steer clear of those joints until you’re more acclimated to the area… and maybe have a bit more confidence, with friends you’ve known longer, too. Most people there are normal, but there are creeps, and they can smell green from across the floor. Don’t worry. There are other ways to find a good time.” Quinn patted Kate on the shoulder, and left for her locker.

Kate was numb. She was still terrified, a bit traumatized by suddenly meeting an upperclassman like that, but also… relieved. For every bit of curiosity and desire for freedom in her head, there had been three huge chunks of nervousness. Subconsciously, she’d already known what Quinn said, but it was nice to hear it from someone else. It gave Kate a justification to herself to cancel, and breathe a sigh of relief. Other ways to find a good time, Quinn repeated in her mind.

She called her friends, getting out with the excuse that Coach had held the team after practice for a meeting, and resumed getting dressed. Torn jeans, sleeved tube top… yeah, kind of clueless attire for clubbing, she supposed. Then, the jacket… Kate pulled it out of her bag and looked at it for a moment. Leather the color of dark chocolate, cut to the rib line, the right lapel sporting a handful of pins including the pansexual pride flag. She did honestly consider herself pansexual… but she did still need to experiment, too. Kate stared at the pins. She gulped down a bold idea, steeling herself. On the bright side, at least Quinn had already broken the ice…

Most of the girls had left the locker room by this point. Quinn herself had her bag slung over her shoulder and was headed out.

“See ya around,” she waved as she passed Kate.

Gulping, slinging the jacket on, and grabbing her bag, Kate started after Quinn. Her nerves were freezing over, but once she was in motion she couldn’t stop. She grabbed Quinn’s shoulder just as she exited out into the main athletics hallway.

“Hey, um…”

“Yeah? What’s up?” Quinn responded brightly, amazing Kate with her relaxedness.

“Well, I really appreciate what you said. I… I needed to hear it. And you’re really cool, keeping things low-key.”

“Yeah, uh, no problem, I mean-“

“Do you want to get a drink with me?” Kate’s impulses pulled the trigger, for better or worse, before her anxiety could get in the way. Her heart stopped.

“Weh- uh, uh… y-yeah. I guess so,” Quinn stammered, dumbstruck. Kate barely noticed her own amusement at the towering senior’s break in compsure, given the crushing tightness in her chest. Her heart began to pound - Quinn had actually said yes! She honestly hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“We - uh, we could get smoothies or something from the student lounge… guess I technically shouldn’t get actual drinks with my captain right now,”

Quinn giggled a bit. “Yeah, totally. It’s… uh…” she paused.

Kate’s chest could barely expand for her to breathe.

“…It’s on the way to my apartment.”

#wlw #fiction #romantic fiction #romantic #short story #lgbtq #writing #gay #lesbian #pansexuality

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pulpwriterx · 4 years

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THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME

(PART 1)

It was the longest elevator ride of his life.

And Rey was right there, within the reach of his arms, talking to him, intently.

But he wasn't listening to the meaning of the words.

Just the sound of her voice, as the words passed her lips.

Kylo Ren began thinking about all the things she could do to him with those lips…

“BEN!”

The word from his Master was like a slap in his face.

“Stop thinking about the girl. Especially about lovemaking. You have to focus.”

I’m sorry, grandfather. But what I was thinking about? It does not distract me. Are you sure this is our moment?

Ben, this is your moment. You have the skill, and the strength, and the power. You are my sword. Your hand is my hammer. My strength is in your blood. You are Darth Vader. You are Anakin Skywalker. You are not a child in a mask. You are a man. A Skywalker. A breaker of empires. Strike the monster down.”

But why does she have to be here? I don’t want Rey to get hurt.

“Because she fights. And Rey is your light, Ben. You can’t win this battle if the Light and the Darkness are not balanced within you. She will help you achieve that balance. And keep it.”

“I am ready.”

Kylo Ren said that aloud.

Rey stopped talking all that Uncle Luke nerfshit he hadn’t been paying attention to.

“What?” she asked.

He grabbed her, pulled her tight and close against his body and kissed her, desperately.

When they parted, they were both panting and flushed.

She didn’t look unhappy about it, and Rey hadn’t let go of him.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Luck.” Ben said.

“When you smirk like that, you remind me of your father.”

The elevator doors slid open.

“Right now? I have to be. Just like the Old Man.” Kylo Ren replied.

***

“You are nothing, but not to me. Join me. Please.”

Everything else had gone as Kylo expected.

But not this.

Rey wasn’t falling into his arms, after completely understanding everything he said, and wanting to join him in it.

That was what he expected.

And it wasn’t happening.

Instead, Rey was looking at him like he was as much a Sith madman as Snoke was.

Ben began to panic.

She’s not buying it.

Holy Mother Force, I blew it, and I can’t let her go. I can’t.

Then stop talking about the Galaxy, you idiot. She knows nothing about your plan, or your journey. You must sound like a megalomaniac.

Say something personal.

Bare your soul; tear out your heart and hand it to her.

Do it!

NOW!!!

“Rey, I’m not asking you to join the First Order. Or the Sith. I’m asking to you to join me. Take my hand, Rey. My hand. The hand of the man who loves you. Desperately. I love you. I need you. I want you. Without you, I can’t take one more step on my journey toward balance in the Force.”

The expression on Rey’s face changed.

“You want me? As a woman? You want me to join you so we can be together? So we can…make love?”

There was a little tremor in her voice.

A little crack in the armor of nerfshit that a few months of trauma and training with his unhinged Uncle had welded onto her soul.

Kylo Ren moved closer to Rey.

“Oh gods, yes, Rey! I want us to make love! I want to ravish your beautiful little body, right fucking now!” he admitted.

Ardently.

Truthfully?

Rey was a little bit afraid.

But there was something crawling in her belly that was stronger than fear.

I don’t have to stay with him, forever.

Just long enough.

“Take your glove off.”

He did it.

And Rey took Kylo Ren's hand.

He hesitated, only for a moment, and then he pulled her into his arms.

Close to his trembling body.

He pulled off his other glove, put his hands on both sides of her face, and kissed her.

Rey groaned into his mouth and kissed him back.

Sparks flew, and not just the ones that fell from the sky.

They parted.

“Ben. Kylo. Take me to a safe place, away from this dying and make love to me. I don’t want the Galaxy. I want you. Be my teacher. Be my lover.”

“You want me? Really? It’s not a trick?”

Rey touched his face, put her fingers to his lips.

Tell him the truth.

For yourself.

“Does my body trembling in your arms feel like it’s lying? Yes, Ben. I want you. You’re such a beautiful man. I love your face. Your unconventionally beautiful face, your dark, saturnine good looks. You’re a mean, moody, magnificent bastard. A big, bad, black raging-bull of a man. You’re handsome as Hell, and I want to kiss all of your freckles. I lie awake at night, and I think about what you could do to me with your gorgeous, luscious mouth.”

Ben kissed her, again, this time more intimately.

Carnally.

He slipped to his knees.

“Ben, please! The ship is exploding. Showers of sparks are falling all around us. We can’t…”

But even as she spoke, Rey put her arms around him, crushing his head against her breasts.

“No. We are exploding. Those sparks are falling from our bodies. I’ve never been this close to you. I’ve ached to be this close to you, since the day we met.”

Ben wasn’t so bold as to try and liberate her breasts from her clothes, but he did nuzzle against a nipple with the end of his nose.

Rey’s body started to tremble in his arms.

To tremble under his hands.

“Oh, Ben, we’re so close, already. What we did in this room, it brought us so close. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever been ravished, before. It sounds wonderful.” Rey said.

“It will be. I promise.”

Ben pulled away from her, and he started undressing.

“No! Not here! It’s full of dead people in here, and the ship is exploding!”

“Then you'll go with me, to my ship?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I am joining your side.”

Ben stood up.

He was angry again.

Gods, if he stays angry, I will take my clothes off, right here!

“Here we go, again! Rey, I don’t have a…kark it. I’ll show you. I’ll show you what I’m talking about!” Kylo shouted, angrily pointing his finger in Rey’s face.

He ducked flying sparks, kicked aside a body, and went over to Master Snoke’s radio.

“Hux, this is Supreme Leader Ren. Stop firing.”

“What?”

“Stop firing on the Resistance. They’re finished. We can afford to be generous. If we want these people to accept our authority as their government, we have to show them that we are not just butchers. They have one ship. Let the survivors go.”

“What happened to Supreme Leader Snoke?”

“He died. Old men often do. Stop the attack and start getting our people into…she never gives up, does she? Phasma, stop! Can she hear me? Is she leaving FN2187 alone?”

“No.”

“Nobody on this ship understands what I’m trying to accomplish!”

Kylo Ren closed his eyes and moved one of his hands, abruptly.

“Why did you just move Captain Phasma into an escape pod? You can’t just pick people up and throw them...”

“Stop yammering, or I’ll pick you up and throw you! There’s no time! The ship is…Damn it, hux, put me on the karking Intercom, and get yourself to the Throne Room!”

Rey heard a loud click.

“Now hear this. This is Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. I have good news. First? Old Man Snoke is dead. Also? We have defeated the Resistance. They crashed their last ship into ours. Which leads me to the bad news. The ship is compromised. Try not to panic. The more we panic, the more likely we all are to die. Everyone who would like to continue with me as Supreme Leader, abandon your posts and make your way to your escape pod or your vehicle. We will rendezvous on my Star Destroyer. Everyone who wants to remain loyal to Snoke is free to go down with this ship and die with him. Your choice. For those of you who are evacuating? Go now. Don’t go back to your quarters and pack. You don’t have time. And to General Pryde and my command crew? Execute Order Lucky Number 7. Over and out.”

Ben hung up the radio and made another communication.

“This is Supreme Leader Kylo Ren calling General Organa-Solo. Do you read me? Over.”

The response was immediate.

“Supreme Leader Kylo Ren? What happened to Supreme Leader Snoke?”

“What do you think happened? I killed him. Cut him in half with grandfather’s lightsaber. That’s as close to Darth Vader as he was ever going to get. I wish you could have seen the look on his face. He was so surprised. Like I’ll bet you are, right now. Can all your passengers hear me?”

“They can, now.”

“This is Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. Snoke is dead. His war on the Resistance is over. I will be turning my attention, and the attention of the First Order to our common enemy. The Sith. Contrary to what you all believe, I am not a Sith Lord. I do not follow the Jedi, or the Sith. Mine is a New Path. But, as long as one Sith lives, I can’t follow that path. And there will be no peace in this Galaxy. None for me, and for the planets of the First Order. And none for you, and what you call the Free Planets. I will not be undertaking any more operations of conquest outside what the First Order had already claimed. We will be fighting the enemy, within. I don’t expect a surrender. But it is my hope that you will regroup, and when you have, that we might both fight our common enemy. General Organa-Solo, I would like to have a meeting with you, in the near future.”

“I’ll think about it, Supreme Leader.”

“May we speak, privately, again?”

Rey heard another click.

“Yes, Kylo?”

“Go to Ahch-To and get your brother. He needs a bath, a hot meal, a change of clothes and a warm place to sleep. Once he gets used to that, figure out something to get him to stay.”

“That bad?”

“He’s lost his mind. He’s turned into this crazy old hermit. It’s very sad, and he needs help. And lots of it. Before you go back to your base, go get him.”

“What about Rey?”

“I think he traumatized her. Rey looked better when she was fresh from starving in the desert. I’m not going to keep her against her will. Like Snoke kept me. I’ll give her a choice. That’s fair.”

“It’s also all I’m going to get. You’re getting better at this, kid.”

“I’d better. Because things are only going to get worse from here on out. I have to go. The ship is exploding. Over and out.”

***

“What happened?” Hux insisted.

“Nothing! I don’t see where that’s any of your business!” the girl snapped.

“I’m not talking about that! I mean why is everybody dead?” Hux clarified.

“Haven’t you ever heard of a coup? This is our day, Hux. A day for warriors. A day of Blood and Iron. A day for our gods to take pride in our work. Today, I am their hammer. Look around you. The fire? The blood? The death of our enemies. It’s our own private Ragnarok. Get Snoke’s head, Hux. And his hand. I want to make a mug from his skull. Hurry it up, the ship is on fire!”

“All the sudden, Ren, you’re a religious man?” Hux quipped.

“I didn’t know you were a religious man.” Rey interjected.

“I’m an Arkanian warrior. My life’s work is undertaken in the service of my ancient gods.” Hux explained

Ben grabbed Rey's hand.

“Talk later! Run, now!” he suggested.

He was soon pulling her along through the collapsing hallways.

“What about the Resistance?” Hux asked.

“I took care of that. How about I explain everything to you, later, when we’re safe on my ship. Don’t waste your breath, Armi! ]Run faster!”

***

All three of them had to run through the dying ship to get to Kylo Ren's TIE Fighter.

Rey couldn’t keep up, with the two long-legged men, and Ben was practically dragging her along.

She kept stumbling.

“Ben! Kylo! I can’t keep up with you!” she cried.

Kylo Ren picked her up and carried her.

Oh well.

At least I am going to die in his arms.

That’s stupid, but romantic.

A First Order General wearing both First Order and Imperial insignia was waiting for them.

Quite calmly.

“Supreme Leader Ren, the ship is cleared of our people.”

Ben looked around

“All these fools standing calmly at their posts, they want to die with Snoke?”

“You can’t force people to listen to reason.”

“Yes I can. Hux? The head.”

Ben stood up on a console, unwrapped Snoke’s head from the bloody cloak, and held it aloft.

“You have nothing more to fear from Old Man Snoke! There’s still one transport left. Come with me if you want to live!”

About half of the troopers and officers left their posts and began running towards their new leader.

Some were calm, some were begging for help or mercy, and some were openly crying, and reaching to touch Kylo Ren.

“Calm yourselves, my people. We are free, now. We don’t have to beg any man for mercy. But we all need to escape. Captain Phasma! As long as you are out of your escape pod! Help General Pryde get these people onto the last transport.”

“Are you going to make him into a mug?”

“Yes.”

Ben got down from the table, and he and General Hux and the two other officers herded a stream of souls onto the last transport.

By the time Rey took a second look around, there were less than a quarter of those who had been there, before, willing to go down with the ship.

“Phasma, Enric, get on the transport. Tell TX-1456 to take off, immediately. Your ship is bigger. You need the advantage.”

“You’ll never make it, we must take off together!” the General insisted.

“Then three people will die instead of a thousand. Go. That’s an order.”

***

The part of the Star Destroyer that the last transport took off from collapsed behind it.

The three of them, Rey, Hux and Kylo Ren barely made it to his TIE Fighter, and as it was, Ben had to take off at a 90 degree angle.

“Damn you, Ren, we’re all going to die!”

“Shut up, Hux! Buckle the girl in, first!”

Rey felt heat, and looked behind her.

“Fireball! Fireball!” she sobbed, giddy with fear.

The whole ship was imploding; there was no deck beneath them; everything was fire and ruin.

Instinctively, Hux embraced her, cradling her head against his chest.

“Don’t look! Don’t look! It will be over, soon.”

He reached for something inside his tunic, and began to recite something, in another language.

Rey thought it was Arkanian.

She hoped it was a savage prayer, to his ancient gods.

Who else would listen, at a time like this

Then the TIE Fighter was rolling and fading, and jumping to lightspeed.

All at once.

Rey felt sick.

She clung to her enemy, and he tightened his arms around her.

But they were still alive.

With Han gone, Ben really was the greatest pilot in the Galaxy.

Hux loosed his grip.

“Don’t let go. I’m going to pass out.” Rey said.

But Hux had already passed out.

“How about that for flying? Are you OK, back there?” Ben asked.

“Not really.” Rey told him.

Darkness called, and she answered.

***

General Pryde was waiting in the hangar.

He looked calm.

They all walked together, through the hangar

There was room on Kylo Ren's flagship Star Destroyer

“May I be the first to congratulate you, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren?”

“Not yet, General Pryde. Was the Order successful?”

“Entirely, Lord Ren.”

“What about any casualties among my troops and officers and personnel?”

“Not one?”

“Did we lose any escape pods? Fighters? Transports?”

“Not one. All of our people are present and accounted for.”

“Excellent. In that case, you may congratulate me, General Pryde. And General Hux has decided to join us.”

“And the charming young lady?”

“My Apprentice. Rey Skywalker. No relation. She has no family. No name. So, I have given her my family name. She deserves it.”

“You are fortunate, Miss Skywalker. Young Lord Vader comes from a long line of Masters of great skill in the Force.” the General told Rey.

“Like his grandfather. Anakin Skywalker.” Rey said, a bit defiantly.

“Yes. He was a great man. May the Force be with young Skywalker, that he too becomes as great.” Pryde replied, evenly.

Ben had turned to his other General.

“General Hux? The story is that my predecessor died. Old men do. But before he passed, he named me his successor.”

“No one will believe that! You showed them his bloody severed head! Even a fledgling Stormtrooper will know you killed him and took power. There will be fear in the ranks.”

“Probably. But there will also be awe. I am their liberator. I have liberated myself, and I have liberated those loyal to me. They will understand that. Now, if you will excuse me? My Apprentice and I are exhausted and covered in blood and gore. I am going to retire to my quarters and show her to hers.”

Hux scowled.

General Pryde nodded, crisply.

He put his hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“This day, Kylo? Your grandfather, Lord Vader, is proud of you. As am I.”

“Thank you, Enric. I know that he is. He was with me, this day.”

“You saw him? You spoke to my Lord Vader?”

“Yes, Enric. Now that I am liberated? I am able to communicate with my grandfather.”

“Then my life’s work is complete.”

“Not yet, General. We have much to do.”

Rey took all this in, using the Force to remain serene.

But the way Ben had flown to get them out of danger, the smell of death that clung to her, and the revolting memories of the charnel house that had been Snoke’s throne room?

It was catching up to her.

“But your Apprentice looks unwell, Supreme Leader. Perhaps you should assist her.” General Pryde said.

“I feel sick.” Rey said.

Ben swept her up, and carried her down many long, brightly lit and silvery hallways.

Too many for her to make it, without being sick, and answering, once more, when darkness beckoned

LINK TO CHAPTER TWO

#reylo week 2020 #reylo #star wars the last jedi #the last jedi fanfic #star wars the rise of skywalker #star wars the rise of skywalker fanfic #star wars fanfiction #reylo smut #ben solo redemption #supreme leader kylo ren #reylo myth #reylo myths and legends #reylo fairy tale elements

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jace-todd · 4 years

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Hahaha I wrote a todoshin story. @bakushinsquad newest post. Yeah here's my crappy story.

Really, he knew that something like this was bound to happen. He had heard all about Endeavor’s shitty behavior towards his family from late nights with Shouto, the other curled up around him, tears still spilling down his face from a nightmare. He’s heard of all the times that Endeavor was too hard on Shouto or his brother, Touya, who had been considered dead for a while now. He had heard all about the quirk marriage, about what his mother had done to him, about where his mother was currently. He had heard about how Shouto’s sister, Fuyumi, was the only one who had a semi-decent relationship with their father. He had heard about Shouto’s brother, Natsuo, was the most aggressive towards their father, having outright arguments and being downright petty.

Shinsou knew it all, having gained Shouto’s trust after the many nights he comforted the dual-quirked boy after nightmares. Shouto had seemed to let it all out after hearing about one of Shinsou’s bad exploits with a father figure in his life. And for that, Shinsou would always have a sense of protectiveness over the kid.

Growing up, Shinsou was almost always the one protecting others. From bullies, teachers, foster parents, and even himself. It was second nature to him, something he didn’t even think twice about despite his usual think before you act attitude. When it came to saving others, he wouldn’t think twice about his own health, which had gotten him plenty of injuries and a decent number of scars.

Maybe it stemmed from trying to make up for all of the wrongs he had never done but everyone thought he’s done. Maybe it stemmed from his heroic desire, the longing in him to help people because no one deserves to go through what he’s going through, or has gone through. Or maybe it stemmed from something else, from his own stupid belief that maybe he deserved it. Deserved the pain that came from jumping in front of his little siblings when their foster father or mother raised their hands or moving them out of the way before a quirk hit.

He knew that ever since Shouto had confided in him that if Endeavor ever showed his face and intended to hurt Shouto, he would get in the way. Shouto didn’t deserve the pain from his father, no one did. And there was no way in hell, Shinsou was going to let Endeavor hurt him anymore.

And as expected, when it finally happened, he did jump in front of Shouto.

They had been working on hand-to-hand combat, Shouto paired against Uraraka, while Shinsou had been paired against Kaminari. It wasn’t a fair fight, but then again no one would’ve had a fair fight against him, other than maybe Ojiro, but they weren’t paired together after an incident. Shinsou had been taught to fight hand-to-hand since he was a kid, his criminal parents wanting him to know how to stand his ground, while the fights in the streets had wanted to underdog to win the fighting rings when he was 11. Shinsou had just wiped the floor with Kaminari again when the figure descended onto campus.

Shouto had gone stiff, arms falling to his side, and eyes watching his father land and start his walk towards Shouto. Aizawa hadn’t been paying attention, his back to the commotion, trying to deal with Bakugou and Midoriya who were arguing again. The rest of the class either continued fighting, glancing occasionally over, or stopped altogether.

Shinsou had helped Kaminari back up before starting his way over. He couldn’t tell what was being said between the duo, but he could tell that whatever Shouto was saying wasn’t pleasing his father. Endeavor was progressively getting angrier, his voice rising some, enough so that Shinsou could start to hear him, but blocked out the voice when he saw Endeavor start to raise his hand.

Logically, he knew that Endeavor wouldn’t hit Shouto in a public setting, especially not in front of heroes to come who had a decent amount of sway already, and another hero who was also respected. But that protective feeling consumed him and Shinsou using the capture device around his neck to swing closer, using a tree to swing around the rest of the way and land perfectly in front of Shouto.

Both Todoroki’s seemed surprised to see the hero student drop down between them, the conversation stopping. Shouto lifted a hand to rest on Shinsou’s shoulder, pushing some, “Hi-Shinsou, what are you doing?” He could hear Shouto’s own protective-instinct kicking in but ignored it as he stared directly into Endeavor’s eyes.

“Todoroki go get Aizawa. I’m going to have a talk with your father.” Shinsou held his ground, still holding the capture device at the ready.

Shinsou could hear Shouto begin to argue, but when he glanced behind him, his eyes soften and he gave a small smile, “Please.”

Reluctantly, Shouto let go of Shinsou’s shoulder, backing up before racing towards where Aizawa was holding Bakugou with the capture device, the blond acting feral again. Shinsou followed him with his eyes before turning back to the adult in front of him, finding a comfort in the fact that he was only a few inches shorter than the hero since his latest growth spurt.

Endeavor looked piss, and Shinsou wondered if there was steam coming out of his ears. Shinsou held his own ground as Endeavor lowered his arms to cross them over his chest. Just as Endeavor was about to speak, a word already leaving him, Shinsou cut him off.

“Don’t say anything. You’re going to listen to him, Mr. Number-One-Hero. You’re a shit person, father, and husband, forcing a woman to marry you to have kids that would be strong, then taking the childhood away from those kids. You isolated them from one another, trained them to exhaustion, traumatizing all of them. When your wife had a meltdown, you set her into a mental institution, because you know you couldn’t control her anymore and she hurt your masterpiece. But your masterpiece is a kid, was a kid when she hurt him. You never treated him like a kid. You only care about being famous, about being adored, about the money and title. He’s an emotionally screwed kid, estranged from reality and his siblings, because of you.

“You can’t afford a scandal, so you made sure that Shouto wouldn’t speak up about it. You got the cops to admit that Touya was assumed dead after just a day. You keep Natsuo silent, pulling the card of your connections of knowing the boss of his school. You are kind to Fuyumi, maybe because if Shouto does turn into your definition of a failure, you’re hoping you can turn her into a hero. Yeah, I know what her quirk is. You still try to control your kids, control Shouto and what he wants to do now.”

Shinsou channeled all he could remember from how his father acted when dealing with subordinates, the strength and firmness in his voice, the pure anger in his eyes. He was tired of Endeavor’s shit, and he knew that someone else needed to put Endeavor in his place alongside the siblings, someone who may not have hero connections, but had villain connections. He hated having the connections that he did have, but at times like this… he wouldn’t be afraid of pulling some of those strings and get Endeavor into more trouble.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Endeavor. You’re going to keep your distance from your kids, you’re going to leave Fuyumi to her job, you’re going to stop holding Natsuo’s education as a hostage, and you’re going to let Shouto be who he wants to be. Or so help me, I’ll expose everything about you, Endeavor. I may just be a second-year hero in training, but I’m not afraid to lose everything I’ve worked for to get your ass thrown in jail. Leave, Endeavor. You’re unwelcome here.”

Endeavor looked beyond angry now, lifting a flaming hand out to Shinsou, as if to get him to shut up or get rid of his anger. “Who the hell do you think you are, speaking to me like that?”

Shinsou smirked, “I’m Shinsou Hitoshi, nice to meet you.”

Behind him, he could hear some laughter, meaning that they had a crowd watching him. He could sense Aizawa’s presence behind him, along with Shouto’s. Aizawa looked between the two, before facing Endeavor.

“He’s right, Endeavor. You’re not welcome here without valid reason to be. Take your leave. Now.” Aizawa’s voice was firm, quirk activated and the fire around Endeavor faded.

As expected, Endeavor opened his mouth to argue back but realizing that all the kids seemed to be against him, that Aizawa was prepared to fight him, that he had lost this battle. He stepped back, anger still clear in his eyes. He searched the ground for his son, finding him already standing next to the purple kid who had gone after him.

“This isn’t over, Shouto. You’ll realize you need me, that my quirk is the better.”

Shouto shook his head, “No, father. It’s over. I’m done with you.”

With that, Endeavor took his leave, scorch marks filling the ground as he flew off. Shinsou was still tense as the rest of the kids stood around. They were all making sure Shouto was okay, praising the other for telling him no, etc. Shinsou was still standing tall, staring at Endeavor’s retreating figure. Aizawa’s hand found its way to his shoulder, startling from his trance.

Aizawa gave him a soft smile, “I’m proud of you, Shinsou, for sticking it to Endeavor and for protecting your friend.”

Shinsou gave him a smile, turning back to where Shouto was being embraced by the Dekusquad. Shouto peered over Iida’s shoulder, their eyes connecting for a moment, but that was all it took for Shouto to mouth ‘thank you’ at him before Shinsou looked away.

The rest of class got canceled, with Aizawa sending the students back to the dorm so he could deal with Endeavor’s appearance. Shinsou had hung back to catch his breath, everything that had just happened setting in like it always did.

He had thought he was alone when he slumped against the tree, pulling his legs to his chest, and laying his head against them, eyes sliding close. But when a hand fell to his hair, he was proven wrong. The familiar warm hand kept him from tensing though, only leaning more into the hold as he lifted his head to look at his boyfriend.

Shouto was kneeling in front of Shinsou’s spot, a smile on his face. The younger boy looked more at ease than he ever had after a visit from his father, which made Shinsou immensely happy. Shinsou lowered his legs, sitting cross-legged as he waited for Shouto to do something. And something he did, as the minute Shouto removed his hand from Shinsou’s hair, he launched onto the taller, hugging him tightly.

Shinsou’s arms came around Shouto’s waist, hugging him back. They sat like that for a while, Shouto in his lap, arms around one another, enjoying the other’s presence, before Shouto pulled away.

Shinsou flinched when Shouto flicked his forehead, “That was really stupid, Hitoshi. Something could’ve happened. He could’ve hurt you. My father has a short temper sometimes, especially when people challenge him like that. Never do that again.” Then he surged forward and kissed Hitoshi softly, causing the other to chuckle. “Also thank you, that was very sweet of you to protect me like that even though you know damn well I can hold my own.”

Shinsou placed his forehead against Shouto’s, staring into the mix-matching eyes. “I’d take a hit for you, any day, Shouto. Plus, someone had to stand up to him. I was tired of him being a little prick. Someone needed to put him into his place.” There was a pause before Shinsou looked away. “I didn’t want you to get hurt by him again.”

Shouto pressed another kiss to his lips, earning a content hum from the other, before pulling away. “I would take a hit for you, as well, Hitoshi. You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Shinsou beamed at the declaration, holding him closer. “I love you, too, Shouto. And I meant when I said, if he bothers you or your family like that again, let me know. I’ll make his life a living hell.”

Laughter from the other filled the area as Shouto rearranged so the two could lean fully against the tree. Things weren’t okay, but they were getting better. It was more bearable with the other by their side. With interlaced hands, Shinsou knew that Shouto would be okay from now on, that the other was reassured that he wasn’t alone anymore in this fight against his father. Now he had some friends and a boyfriend to fight with him.

#hannah's writing #shinsou hitoshi #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #i've never posted my writing here #first time writing todoroki #its baddddd #i tried #it was supposed to be more angsty and more like...#centered on enji but then... soft #yeah #my hero academia #todoshin

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