#idk if that’s just the spare treatment but other spares seemed to have a lot more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Note

your roommate hcs are so cute, can i request for naib, demi, tracy, andrew, kurt, patricia, and victor?

:0 holy crap yes! I’m so glad you enjoyed the roommate hcs!! Me and the other mods hope you enjoy these! Thank you for requesting :))

(i added melly because why not? lmao hope you don’t mind.)

Part 1!

Naib Subedar

This man deadass didn’t know you were living with him

Even when people told him about it, he wasn’t rlly paying attention and didn’t rlly care

Your stuff in his room? He thought it was his or someone just broke into his room and left it there

When he saw you on the toilet however, he just freaked out.

“Why the hell are you shitting in my room!?” “Your room? I’ve been living here for 2 months!”

Once he found out you lived with him, he made sure you knew what was his and what was yours

also, since he’s very protective of his things-- you being one of them-- he would totally get jealous if he caught you tallking to someone that wasn’t him.

he would probably give you the silent treatment and act like a pissy baby

He hates it when you touch his stuff

especially his photos, the photos were special to him because they were of him and his army friends.

You’d sometimes catch him looking at the photos with a longing in his eyes, it was highkey sad.

having you live with him meant lots and lots of training

he made sure you were always prepared for matches and that you don’t get downed early

when you got downed early however, He would scold you but he would still rescue you anyways because he’s soft

“You’re such an idiot, you’d better do better next time! Or else I’ll kick your ass.”

one time he got cocky while kiting because you were watching him

he forgot to turn on his elbow pads and face palmed into the wall.

“...You saw nothing.” He turned around, a bit woozy from hitting his head on a wall. He flipped the hunter off before stumbling wooshing away

When you first get to know naib, he’d probably come off as intimidating and menacing

but once you get to know him--the real him--, you start to understand that even though he may be tough on you, its because he wants you to be the best

he has good intentions

During matches he’d let you handle yourself and made sure you didn’t rely on him too much

One time you needed to shower but you ran out of your shampoo so you used his.

When he questioned you, you simply responded “What? You don’t need it anyways, you’re bald!”

He didn’t rescue you the next round.

should’ve seen that coming

though he forgives you when you braid his luscious long existent hair for him

Kurt Frank

The amount of times you almost stepped on this man is astronomical.

he would constantly be in his tiny form because he would lose a lot of his things

his tiny form helped him find his things easily

Though when you first moved in with him, you had no idea what his ability was

so when you first saw a tiny version of your roommate you thought he was just a weird doll

until you heard him say a tiny, “Hey can you move your ginORMOUS foot? You’re stepping on my book.”

You fucking screeched and took off your shoe to try and kill him

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

After he explained to you about his ability you calmed down a bit and spared this tiny man but only this time!

Frank loves books, he probably filled your shared rooms with stacks on stacks of books

You’d often see him tiny, waving at you while you’re decoding

Once you overhead Kurt arguing with First Officer over who was the rightful owner of some sort of treasure map

They fought for days,

kurt would constantly complain about it to you

turns out it was just a game on the back of a Cereal box.

sorry this is short like kurt

Tracy Reznik

Would be a little awkward at first, but the awkwardness slowly fades away when you both make bad jokes

she gives me childhood best friend vibes

Has her doll sitting in the corner of your shared room room, it’s lifeless eyes scare the living shit out of you in the dark you try not to make eye contact, afraid it’ll curse you or smth

if she was mad at you she would move the bot in a way that looked like it was flipping you off you off in your direction before you went to bed.

Always making little robot things that are super fun to play with

Loves sharing her things. Has no problem with it

you wanna wear her clothes? sure

you want to wear her underwear? evEN BETTER-

Pulling all nighters, trying to get her machines to work like how she wanted it to work.

Would live off of kraft Mac n cheese and junk food in the modern day

Pretty hyper, chugs pink monster energy drinks while pulling all nighters, also, in the modern day

would probably be a bruh girl

Her room is a mess, covered with blueprints and scrap metal

her room is practically a safety hazard

Sometimes she dresses her doll up a bit, putting wigs or her old clothes on it (which scares you half to death)

Once she made her doll dress up like her

and you almost went up to it to ask what it wanted for dinner.

Has a photo of her and her dad

You never wanted to bring it up, worried it might make her upset :(

Sometimes she’d feel really guilty about being downed in the first 30 seconds

please comfort her, she feels super bad

She always relies on you to rescue her

She gets really happy and thankful when you body block for her but she still gets a bit concerned when you do it randomly

“i wasn’t even kiting-” “Protecc the mecc.”

Demi Bourbon

Always out at the bar

Smells like alcohol constantly

tipsy 24/7

she’s never 100% sober

You have to hold her hair out of her face when she comes back to your shared room to hurl

Likes bringing back hard vodka or weird flavoured alcohols back for you guys to get wasted try together

Room is bit cluttered, but she doesn’t have much in her room since she’s always out in bars or matches

Usually latches onto you like a parasite when she’s drunk.

it gets a bit awkward when her face is a bit close to yours,

“Are we about to kiss right now-? BLeurghgrhgherrgh.”“...*audible sigh*”

You’d go to her expecting her to heal you like a normal person but no

instead she shoves dovlin down your throat

She likes to do your makeup, and always adds a matching beauty mark

unless you don’t wear makeup, then she’d ask you to do hers

always loves how she looks afterwards

more than sometimes demi would get into bar fights,

so you know she’s about to throw hands when she starts takes off her earrings-

10/10 would fight for you <3

She’s gives me cool wine aunt vibes

Probably a lesbian too (check out our Demi smut fic ;))

Or bi, idk

Just straightn’t

She’s really good at hyping you up, especially when you’re taking shots

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG-”

Andrew Kreiss

Would be very shy at first, opens up a little when you get to know him

Totally a night owl, can’t sleep at night from all the guilt and “what if’”s

if you see this baby awake at night, hug him, he really needs it

You’ve never seen the other side of his face

How does he see with hair in his eyes?

He’s albino, which is super dope

Sometime you fear he’s thinking about burying you

You always see him thwacking Luca with his shovel

Barely talks

Room is moderate

He doesn’t want you to find out too much about him

He may seem bland, but he loves sweet food

You’d bake him cookies and other sweets

He’d act as if he’s not embarrassed and brush it off

“Are you blushing?”“No, I-I’m sunburnt.” “On your face?” “....I stare into the hot red sun sometimes because it eases me.”

to keep his lie going, every time he catches you staring at him he would fry his eye balls by staring into the sun until you left

partially the reason why he can’t see well

When he’s not looking, you stare at him while he’s eating the stuff you made because he looks so happy :’)

One time you found him down in the dumps so you made him a cup of coffee, and when you handed it to him you said-

“Depresso espresso?”

*sniff* ”..are you oka-” “IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE”

he actually cried

it was such a nice gesture(?), that he started ugly crying

You’d ask him if he wanted hugs during matches when you see him get stressed

He’d be flushed and kinda confused

hug... him? why tho lmao

he’d definitely agree tho, to be fair, with some hesitation

if y’all ever cuddled in bed, i feel like he’d be a little spoon

poor boy needs the comfort, he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be little spoon tho

he just wants to be close to you

Victor Grantz

You love playing with his dog, Wick

Super nice and polite, but a little guarded

The type to be too afraid to call people out when they do something wrong but would totally trash them in his head

You write him little letters everyday and leave them on his bed to make him happy :))

He’d a be a little spoon

Wick would always join you guys while cuddling

Kisses would be soft and gentle

Usually sends you the first letter in matches

Loves to cuddle

He bb 🥰

You always get him a birthday present AND a Christmas present

You also get a gift for Wick

He loves giving you surprise hugs

Likes to read with you while cuddling

Literally a cinnamon roll

Once he was eating a cinnamon roll

And you whispered

“C a n n i b a l i s m .”

He was very confused

and kind of scared- were you going to eat him?

Patricia Dorval

Room always smells like herbs

She could literally smoke weed and you’d think it’s some magical healing herb

it magically makes you feel better

Always there to stun the hunter when you’re ballooned

The mature one

Her room is organized, with boxes labeling what herbs and magic stuff that are in them

You were cooking dinner for the day and you accidentally used one of her fancy herbs in your soup

She didn’t realize until she tried the soup

She wasn’t mad just disappointed

She lectured you on how you shouldn’t touch her stuff or use it for cooking

Gotta admit tho, the soup was pretty good

she acts like the mom everyone wishes they had

totally the type to be like, “dude we should think this through.” before doing something risky

and then five seconds later, “cowABUNGA MY DUDES”

one time she caught kreacher leaving the mens washroom without washing his hands

seeing as she was the mother of this manor, she had to protect her children from diseases

so she yeeted her monkey skull at kreachers head, cleanly knocking him out

and everybody cheered.

Melly Plinius

When you heard melly was going to be your roomie, you couldn’t have been more excited.

you finally had a victim for the many insect pick up lines!

So you decided to make some good first impressions by waiting for her in your room.

so when she arrived to your room and greeted you, you happily greeted her back, and slipped in the pick up line.

“Hello, my name is Melly. I believe I will be your ro-?”“Yeah nice to meet you too, say, what do bees make?”

She kinda thought you were a bit rude so much for first impressions

“...Erm, honey?” she replied hesitantly

“YES DEAR?”

... okay maybe you weren’t thaaaat bad.

after that she kind of developed a teensy crush on you

so it was hard living with you because of her crush, since she was constantly flustered

you loved her reactions, she constantly got red.

it was funny watching her try to keep her cool and fail.

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i-love-side-characters · 3 years

Note

hot take for the aoas fandom but i don’t ship curaday. not bc i just don’t like the ship but bc i don’t like how faraday was curie’s previous mentor. idk... it just seems manipulative and predatory to me that they ended up together with the power dynamic so unbalanced.

hmm i definitely see where you're coming with that. and don't worry its fine that you don't ship them!!! that's perfectly acceptable!!!

i have to say a few things first on the predatory aspect, if that's alright. also disclaimer this is quite rambly, i'm sorry i'm just very tired.

additional notes:

important points/things i want to stress in bold

quotes are italicized

thunderhead + the toll quote used!!! not really spoilers, but careful if you haven't read books 2 and 3!!!

if you're not a coward here's my askbox

now in my opinion, there are a few things that might make it seem as though curaday is a very predatory relationship. one, the mentor/apprentice problem. two, the age gap. three, the essence of their romantic relationship. because you didn't state why you felt it was predatory, i'll adress those issues.

1) the nature of their relationship during the mentor years

the "original" curaday as such wasn't really a romantic relationship. there was no hint of the relationship between the two while faraday was mentoring curie. at the time when their relationship was only mentor/apprentice and indeed adult/minor, there were no requited feelings from faraday.

"....then tore [the journal entry] out the next day, when i broke down and confessed my love with eyeball-rolling melodrama. [...] [scythe faraday], on the other hand, was a gentleman [...] and let me down as easily as he could." ― scythe curie, (page 347, scythe)

just to be thorough, here are several definitions of "let down." all links in sources.

convey bad or disappointing news in a considerate way, so as to spare the person's self-respect. ― idioms free dictionary

to try to give someone bad news in a way that does not upset them too much. ― macmillan dictionary

an unrelated expression is let someone down easy. this phrase refers to breaking up with someone in a relationship in such a way that they are not devastated of overly sad. ― writing explained

so it's clearly implied that faraday said no to her. after curie confesses her feelings, she describes what happen after that.

"i lived in [scythe faraday's] house, and remained his apprentice, for two more awkward months." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)

note that there is no mention of there ever being a romantic relationship between the two scythes during the remainder of the mentorship. this shows that no adult/minor predatory behaviour had occurred between the two scythes.

just to add on, some thoughts from my friend ref. ( @jam-is-my-food )

"if their romance took place when or anytime around when curie was his apprentice, yes. absolutely that would be a tilted power dynamic and uncomfortable and Not Good."

this, as well as the quotes, removes the "predatory" aspect of your concern. but that's just my opinion!!! you can still believe that is an unhealthy and wrong relationship. but personally i don't think the mentor/apprentice concern is a factor, since the romantic aspect took place much later.

2) the age gap during the years of their romantic relationship

there is a 5 year age gap between the two scythes. according to the wiki, at the start of scythe, curie is 219 years old, and faraday is 224. during scythe curie's explanation of her crush on faraday, she pinpoints their exact ages.

"i was seventeen and full of righteous indignation at a world that was still heaving in the throes of transformation." ― scythe curie (page 345, scythe)

"i was seventeen, remember. childish in so many ways. i thought myself in love." ― scythe curie (page 346, scythe)

"but at twenty-two, [scythe faraday] was just as inexperienced in such matters as i was." ― scythe curie, (page 346, scythe)

the five year age gap during the mentorship would have made it an adult/minor relationship, but as they grew older that simply isn't the case.

"then, nearly fifty years later, when we both had turned our first corner and were seeing the world through youthful eyes once more―but this time with the wisdom of age on our side―we became lovers." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)

they became romantically involved until fifty years had passed. which would put curie at around 67, and faraday at around 72. curie even outright says that they had "the wisdom of age on [their] side." this shows that curie believed that both parties were mature in their starting of a romantic connection.

here is some more input from ref. ( @/jam-is-my-food )

"and, adding on to [the earlier statement], if faraday was the one who had liked marie when she was his apprentice. even if a lot of years had passed, that would i think still make it inherently predatory and yikes.

but the thing is, that's not what happened. all that happened when she apprenticed for him was that marie had a crush on michael.

and he turned her down. because she was a kid. and that's the end of it."

this, i would say, addresses the general complaint of the age gap between the two. most often people believe that because faraday apprenticed curie that he was a lot older but that's not true. the gap is only 5 years. now that absolutely does not make their relationship "not predatory", but it does show that both parties were mature in their decisions.

3) after their romantic relationship + friendship

now this part is less technical than the others. this is mostly my opinions. but just to start off, i want to look at their relationship after the 7 deaths and 70 years.

your feeling of their relationship is that it is "manipulative and predatory". now i've never been in an unhealthy relationship before, but i don't believe this is one (please correct me if i'm wrong! i am not speaking from experience here and could easily make a mistake!).

out of everything, their treatment of one another after the romantic relationship stands out to me the most. personally if their romantic had been unhealthy in that sense, i don't believe they would have stayed friends as they did.

i had written an essay a while about curie and faraday together. if you could read it that would be great! however i'm linking my friend nisha's ( @genyyasafin ) reblog of it, as she adds in a small bit at the end about how faraday humanizes curie. [ here ] is the link.

as i was saying, i don't think this is a predatory and manipulative relationship simply from the way they act afterwards. they are described as old friends constantly, and that friendship seems natural, to me at least. now you could be saying that this is a manipulative relationship and neither of them notice, but i don't think that's true.

“seven deaths, and seventy years later, many things had changed. we remained old friends after that, but nothing more.” ― scythe curie (page 348, scythe)

"i have observed the rise and fall of the romantic relationship between [scythe curie and scythe faraday], as well as the many years of devoted friendship that has followed." ― the thunderhead (page 383, thunderhead)

these two show that even the thunderhead, which is an incredibly knowledgeable force, does not seem to be troubled by their relationship.

not to mention this quote:

"other scythes―the ones i'm friendly with―will call me marie." ― scythe curie (page 235, scythe)

and through that quote it is shown that both curie and faraday are comfortable around each other. this isn't every instance in the books, but the ones i found quickly.

"marie―scythe curie that is―...." ― scythe faraday (page 371, scythe)

"and you, marie." ― scythe faraday (page 383, thunderhead)

"where are you my dear marie?" ― (page 102, the toll)

i didn't add in any quotes where its the reverse and she calls him michael, because he never mentioned his policy for first-name-basis, but this shows how comfortable curie is around faraday. not to mention it is implied that curie and faraday talk often, as curie knows about an event that only faraday, citra, and rowan know about.

"didn't you already attend a family wedding?"

citra wondered how scythe curie knew that, but wasn't about to let herself be derailed. ― scythe curie - dialogue, citra terranova - narraration (page 231, scythe)

the comfort in which they speak to and reference one another suggests to me, at least, that there is not a manipulative intent or feeling in the relationship.

4) conclusion i suppose

if you read all the way here, then i applaud you for your dedication and i thank you very much. that seriously means so much to me.

to anon: this essay was a whole 1,429 words. i am so sorry. however i do disagree with your opinion but i hope i've voiced mine in a somewhat coherent manner. thank you so much for reading all this way!!!

5) sources:

scythe curie wiki

scythe faraday wiki

arc of a scythe - book one: scythe

arc of a scythe - book two: thunderhead

arc of a scythe - book three: the toll

let down - idioms by the free dictionary

let down - macmillan dictionary

let down - writing explained

#not main content #arc of a scythe #aoas #mine #scythe curie #hs curie #scythe faraday #hs faraday #curaday #otp: is it true you died seven deaths for her?#otp: and her for me #long post #im very sorry anon this is quite long #i just found your opinion very interesting #i hope i didnt come off as rude that wasn't my intent #also i know its a mess im sorry #its not coherent at all

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tavern-aa · 4 years

Note

Lmao little silly XD. Idk why I thought it was on my end but anyway. Can I request floof prompt #1 with naruto x male

A/N: Leviathan here!! I will gladly take a fluff prompt from you dear, and yes...I admit I am in fact a little silly. I’m still sorta new to Tumblr so I didn’t know what I was doing but it is all fixed now thanks to our lovely Teddy <3<3<3.

Warnings: cursing, fighting, bullying, tsundere tendencies, post sippuden before the last

Word Count: 2.7k

x Male Reader

Naruto Uzumaki: Meant To Be

Fluff Prompt 1: “you know we’re meant to be”

It was much too early in the morning for Y/N to be up and about. Maybe not for everyone else in this god forsaken village, but for him, the sun wasn’t out yet so he didn’t want to be either. But of course, missions always had to start just before the sun rose, something about being inconspicuous or something like that. It didn’t really make much sense to him, most of the ninja in the village wore such brightly colored clothes, they stood out even if they were trying to be unnoticeable.

Y/N’s hair swayed around his head as he stood crouched in a tree above the village hidden in the leaves, waiting for his team members to show. He knew from the moment the Hokage gave him the assignment that something was bound to go wrong. He was assigned to work with team Kakashi for a covert mission. He didn’t know why team Kakashi though, they weren’t known for being too covert, or even remotely good at being sneaky like ninja were supposed to be. But, he had to do it so there was no use complaining.

He knew Kakashi was notorious for never showing up on time so he decided to perch himself on a branch high above the gate out of the village, surveying people as they bustled around. The scene wasn’t necessarily busy at this hour, but there were a few early birds moving to do their business. Y/N puffed out a breath of air as he waited for the team to arrive not noticing the brown haired ninja materializing behind him out of the very tree he crouched on.

“Are you Y/N?” a gruff voice asked from behind Y/N causing the ninja to jump up, spinning around with a kunai in hand ready to strike. His eyes met the image of a slightly older man with brown hair and weirdly shaped eyes, his leaf village forehead protector extended to guard around his face as well.

“My apologies, sir. I didn’t sense you coming, you’re Yamato, right?”

“I am, I’m sorry for showing up a little late, I was attempting to get the others out of their homes. Kakashi won’t be joining us for this specific mission, so I guess I’ll be in charge.”

“Of course,” Y/N bowed in respect to his superior. His gaze flitted away from the man’s face though as he rose from the bow, sensing three other presences approaching where the two gathered.

In seconds there were three ninja below the tree, one in red attire with bubblegum pink hair, another in black and gray attire, and the last...shit. In Y/N’s momentary blunder, he forgot just who comprised team Kakashi.

Naruto Uzumaki stood alongside his companions grumbling about the others being late or something along those lines. Y/N’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at the ninja below, his thoughts racing trying to form an excuse as to why he suddenly had to leave the mission to the other four.

“We should get going now, Y/N.” Yamato then jumped down from the branch landing beside the younger ninja. Y/N’s teeth gritted in his mouth before he released a breath and jumped down from the tree. Immediately the attention of the others was on him causing him to cringe.

“As you said, Yamato...We should get going. Remember, this is a covert mission, don’t go running into it all willy nilly, no matter what you may hear,” Y/N grumbled at the three, not once sparing a glance in their direction. Naruto huffed in annoyance at the ninja’s attitude but something was off. He could tell, something about this guy seemed almost...familiar? No, maybe it was just because he had a high and mighty attitude and it reminded him of Sasuke.

Y/N didn’t give the others a chance to respond as he started to walk off towards the gates to the village. Sakura gave Naruto a glance and then a look to Sai who seemed deep in thought before shrugging it off and heading after their teammate. Naruto huffed in annoyance at the retreating male before jogging after Sakura.

The mission was only supposed to take at most a week, so tell me why Y/N is sat in front of a camp fire, tending to his wounds while glaring at Naruto. The two were alone as they had been separated from the other three about two days ago due to a screw up on Naruto’s part.

“Would you stop glaring at me like that, I already said I was sorry,” Naruto grumbled, throwing down the stick in his hand.

“I don’t care, this is all your fault, I even said when we started the mission not to go running about all stupid, but oh no! ‘I’m the great Naruto Uzumaki, savior of the entire world, I can do what I want!’ And now look where we are, stuck in the middle of the forest, we don’t know where we are, and it’s because you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut!” Y/N’s breathing had picked up in his rant due to his anger which caused Naruto’s frustrated look to soften into one of concern.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you need to calm down, you’re injured and getting riled up isn’t going to help much,” Naruto spoke, rising from his spot and crossing to where the other shinobi sat. Cautiously, the blonde crouched in front of the seething male and took the cloth he was using to treat his wounds, rinsing it in water and gently applying pressure to one of the large cuts on Y/N’s abdomen.

“I wouldn’t be injured if it wasn’t for you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Hmph,” Y/N looked away from the other ninja, though his heart was hammering in his chest due to their proximity, he kept his angry persona up not wanting to give in to the pure bliss of being this close to Naruto.

“I don’t really get something though, you’ve been extremely hostile this entire time and I don’t even know you. You’ve been against me even since before the mission started. Did I do something to you?” Naruto questioned, glancing up at Y/N, the glow of the fire dancing across his face causing Y/N’s heart to swell.

“I-no, I just...I just don’t like you! I don’t have to tell you anything!”

After saying that, Y/N rose from his seated position hurriedly startling Naruto into falling backwards. Y/N towered over him, staring down at the blonde before spinning around and retreating into the trees to rest.

Naruto let out a sigh, confused and somewhat frustrated at his team mates attitude. What had he done to deserve this treatment, he was sure he hadn’t done anything to the shinobi, so why was he treating him this way. Has he met Y/N before? Wait...

Naruto’s eye’s widened in disbelief, his head snapping in the direction that Y/N had gone.

“It can’t be...”

“I don’t get this...can you help me?”

A younger Y/N looked up at a blonde boy around his age as everyone in the class bustled around to sit with their friends for lunch.

“What don’t you get, Naruto-kun?” Y/N questioned, holding his hand out for the paper and pencil the blonde held in his hands. Naruto grinned, handing the paper to the other.

“This problem is really confusing and I don’t really get how Iruka-sensei explained it.” Naruto stared at the other boy in awe as he started to explain the problem in much simpler terms that their teacher had, “woah! That’s a lot easier than I thought! Thank you, Y/N!”

Y/N smiled softly to the blonde, “you’re welcome, Naruto-kun...do you wanna eat with me?”

Naruto’s already large grin spread wider across his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll be right back, let me grab my lunch!”

Y/N watched as the boy ran across the classroom not once letting his eyes wander from the form of the boy he had been crushing on since their first year in the academy. Much like Hinata, he was too shy to approach him himself, but he was so happy that he came to him for help.

As Naruto approached him once more, one of the other students in the class tripped the blonde causing him to drop the contents of his lunch on the floor of the classroom. Naruto stared in shock at his food before looking up at the bully, ready to start a fight before Y/N cut in.

“Please don’t fight Naruto-kun, it’ll only make things worse, come with me and we can share mine. As for you guys,” Y/N’s face grew dark as he turned to the group of students who caused the incident, “I hope you guys enjoy your lunch on the floor, it’s yours now. You better eat it.”

The boys shivered in fear of the other boy, glancing down at the food on the ground before looking back up at him.

“Did I stutter? Eat your food.” Immediately the boy’s were on their knees, scooping up the food that Naruto had dropped.

Naruto watched in awe of the other boy, usually he was so soft spoken. He never would have expected this, especially to defend him.

A month later, Naruto sat in class waiting for Y/N to arrive, but he never did. Iruka entered the class, his gaze falling on Naruto with one of pity.

“Excuse me everyone, I want to announce that Y/N will no longer be taking classes with the rest of you, he has been promoted and will now be training alongside the Anbu Black Ops special group,” Iruka announced. Naruto felt his heart drop into his stomach. His only friend, gone.

Later that day, Naruto spotted Y/N’s mop of hair walking down the street and quickly ran up to him, grabbing his arm.

“Huh?” was Y/N’s quite articulate response to the action. “Oh, hey Naruto-kun!”

A grin had settled on the shorter boys face as he looked back at the blonde.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We’re friends right? So, why didn’t you tell me you were leaving school?” Naruto interrogated. Y/N’s smile dropped and instead was replaced with a frown.

“I wanted to...I’m sorry, Naruto-kun. I just didn’t want to upset you,” Y/N said, awkwardly rubbing his arm as he fully turned to face the blonde, “But we can still hang out after school, right?”

“No! I don’t want to hang out with you anymore! You didn’t tell me you were leaving so how do I know you won’t just leave again, I’d rather be alone than be with a liar!”

Y/N flinched away from Naruto’s words, his heart clenching in his chest, “But, you said-”

“I don’t care what I said! You’re leaving me just like everyone else, so I don’t wanna hear it! You’re a jerk!” was the last thing the blonde said before storming away from where Y/N stood. The shinobi felt tears start to pool in his eyes as the blonde walked away.

“You’re the jerk Naruto,” he whimpered before quickly making his way back to his home.

Naruto’s memories flooded back to him like a tsunami. He knew he was being childish back then but what did you expect, he was a child and he was hurt. That’s still no excuse though, he didn’t want to mess up the chance he had been given, or at least mess it up any further than he already had.

“Y/N!” he called into the trees, not expecting a response but wishing deep down that the other would. After a few seconds of silence, Naruto sighed and pushed himself up onto his feet, “Fine, I’ll just go look for him then.”

Naruto entered the expanse of trees beyond their little camp before he heard the sounds of battle emerge from the distance.

“Shit! Y/N!”

He quickly took off towards the sounds that echoed through the trees before he approached a clearing where he saw the other male fighting three larger men clad in dark black attire. He burst into action, summing two clones and creating his rasengan in his hand and jumped at two of the attackers sending them flying across the field.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” He called, watching Y/N dodge an attack from the last enemy.

“What does it look like idiot?” The other called back slashing his kunai at the large ninja.

“Would you like some help?”

“Preferably!”

Naruto smirked slightly as he ran up to help Y/N take on the rouge ninja making it ten times easier for the two of them to take him down.

“You know Y/N, I realized something while you were gone...I’m sorry.”

“You already apologized, it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“No, no, not for that though I am sorry for that too I guess. Anyways, I’m sorry for being a jerk...when we were younger.”

Y/N tensed up where he stood, turning his head to face the blonde.

“What are you talking about?” He asked cautiously, his eyes scanning Naruto’s face in an anxious attempt to read the boys intentions.

“I was upset and I took it out on you, it really wasn’t even you’re fault, you were just really smart and really skilled. I should have been happy for you, instead I was being selfish and blamed you for something that wasn’t even you’re intention.”

“Naruto stop talking-”

“You were my only friend back then and I ruined our friendship by being childish and selfish and I’m sorry. I was and am an idiot...could you ever forgive me?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat in his chest and he saw the sincerity in the blonde’s eyes.

“I-I...”

“I think I get somethings now that I didn’t get back then either...there were a lot of emotions I was feeling then and I guess I felt betrayed? I don’t know, but there was always something that I felt for you that confused me. But fate has brought us back together, Y/N. I’m ready to accept my fault, and I hope you can forgive me for being stupid.”

“Naruto...you idiot.” Y/N felt a singular tear escape his eye as he stared at the other male, his hand quickly wiping it away, “of course I forgive you.”

Naruto grinned, approaching the male and carefully pulling him into a hug, trying to be mindful of the old and newly sustained injuries on the boy’s body. Y/N tensed slightly at the contact before fully relaxing into the taller boy’s embrace.

“I think I understand my feelings a lot better now, Y/N...” Naruto muttered into the shorter boy’s ear sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine.

“O-oh? And what’s that?”

Naruto pulled back though he did not break the embrace.

“Well...I’m sure you know this too...you know we’re meant to be,” he whispered softly, leaning forward to hover his lips over the others.

Y/N was shocked to say the least, his chest felt like it would explode, his face was hotter than hades, and his body felt like it was going to melt into the ground.

“Naruto...”He breathed, his breath brushing across Naruto’s lips. Both boys stood still for seconds deciding whether or not this was something that they both wanted and if this was something they were ready to commit to.

A groan from the ground startled the two out of each other’s embrace as they realized where in fact they were. Y/N’s face flushed an even deeper red if that was even possible as he moved into action, tying the three rouge ninja to a near by tree.

“We...we should get back to camp and try and find the others in the morning,” he suggested, turning his head away from Naruto’s burning gaze.

“Hm, we could do that...or,” Naruto stopped in the middle of his sentence, once again pulling the shorter boy into his arms, “we could continue what we were about to do before, hm?”

Y/N swallowed thickly before nodding his head slowly in agreement, “That would be nice,” he squeaked out, his voice having raised a couple of octaves. Naruto’s chuckle sent vibrations through both boy’s chests before their lips finally locked in a sweet and soft kiss that told the other exactly how they felt.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before a man cleared his throat. Once again the two were interrupted from their loving moment as they jumped apart.

“Well...it seems we found you two,” Yamato stated, chuckling at the disheveled state of the two boys, “glad you seem to be getting along better now.”

“Yeah...” Y/N muttered, hiding his face in his hands, “I’m gonna head back to the camp.”

Naruto grinned at the embarrassed boy’s retreating form before looking over at Yamato, giving a big thumbs up.

“Believe it!”

A/N: wow, I hate it. I’m sorry it sucks I’m so tired I pulled three all nighters this week and I just, ugh, I really hope you like it I did actually try hard for this one even though i was sleep deprived.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #naruto x male reader #naruto x gn!reader #naruto x gn reader #naruto x gn! reader #naruto x m!reader #naruto x male #x male reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #x gn! reader #x reader #naruto x you #x male

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retvenkos · 3 years

Note

olive!! I've started the unexpected heiress on your recommendation and boy, it did NOT disappoint. even if I'm not 100% enthralled with it, it's such a far cry from the honestly subpar books choices has been putting out for the last few years that I'm delighted. I'm on chapter 5 and I need to know your thoughts. What do you think happened to Amelia? Who are you romancing, if you have decided already? I missed rambling about choices, especially to you, so this is all very nostalgic to me 💜

!!!!!!!!! i'm so excited you're enjoying it! i'm enjoying reading through it, and i totally agree with your thoughts. with a few tweaks (which we will get INTO) it could be better, but it's like,,,,, the only thing pb has put out that i'm even remotely interested in. i even lost motivation with my reread of endless summer, because to diamond mine, i had to force myself through witness and the nanny affair 🤢🤢🤢. (they both had so many chapters to mine..... it had to be done..... but at what cost????)

okay, but my thoughts on what happened to amelia? i'm a bit further along than you are, so i'm going to be vague and say that while there seems to be reason to believe it's [redacted] i actually think it's not that at all, because pb likes a good twist (that sometimes come out of nowhere) and it's actually going to be someone we'd never suspect - like, someone seemingly without motive. maybe someone she thought was her friend? idk. i know pb is going to try to make us think it's some better-than-you nobleman with like, a wispy mustache or something, but it's probably going to be some kind of quiet bystander. and definitely a woman. killing her with perfume? only a woman would think of that (joking).

and as for romances...... i kind of shy away from romances in mystery books, but i have some thoughts about these LIs.

i thought about romancing john for a moment there, but the whole 'brother of my fiance' thing was really unattractive to me. he had a really interesting backstory, though, so i continued to play scenes with him to learn more about him and then i noticed some..... unpleasantness with how pb was handling this romance. maybe it's just me, but there's a couple of scenes where the reader ~makes a move~ and he's like, "i can't do this. i'm still mourning my dead fiance, and this is too much™ ." and i hate how pb just,,,,,,,,,, lets the mc continue, anyway? in a book that hinges so much on grief, i thought they would do a much better job of going about that particular point of interest with john. i stopped romancing him because !!!!! respect his boundaries !!!!!! like, in chpt. 11 the mc kisses him anyway even though he's not ready for it and that doesn't sit right with me.

on the other hand, we have hugh, my beloved. i think he's great but honestly? i like him as mc's bff. they could have such an iconic friendship if given the chance, and i really just want there to be minimal romance in this book. think of the friendships that could form! i like him though, and might romance him in another play through, but for now i just like his friendship.

and okay, as for the one and only gemma, i've romanced her a couple of times and honestly? i love her. i don't have a lot of diamonds to spare, so i'm not seeing as much depth from her as i could, but from what i can see? that's my wIFE, right there. my mc will gladly be a trophy wife for gemma montjoy <3. if i have to choose in the end, i'll go with her because i think she's very neat and i have no complaints.

and finally, i think i just have to say - i'm kind of upset we're not getting more time with francis. i know that's normal non-li treatment in choices books, but he's so integral to the plot, and i would like to have a story about helping him through his grief and he and mc becoming good friends, please. they both love amelia so much! they could keep her memory alive together, but we're pushing that aside for another romance (i know that romance is a thing™ in choices but damn. can we just have a book without? so we can develop other stories? but noooooooo. facebook moms gotta have their romance scenes). also, i am not opposed to going through with the marriage with francis because he's a good dude and i bet he has a lot of personality when he's not,,,, y'know,,,, grieving. and because 30k slowburn arranged marriage fic is kinda my jam.

#asks #clara — 🌙#also lol i never even mentioned how i think they could have made the mystery even better if we started to #suspect someone close to us like effie or francis idk #i just want in fighting!!!!!!!!! it wouldn't solve anything but it would be interesting #maybe i just want to read a veil of secrets again idk

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4lix · 4 years

Note

hello, i’m so happy you’re making a comeback. since you’re in the mood to write abt chan, may i request a best friends to lovers trope?

friends to lovers ★ bang chan ↳ gender-neutral. fluff.

okay so falling in love with ur best friend is a big L but its one u are more than willing to take for christopher bang

first things first, chan loves people with his whole mf heart.

whether its family, friends, or romantic interests

so when it comes down to him falling for his best friend? idk if he’d really realize it unless someone literally spelled it out for him, he’d just mistake his affection towards you as just the same kind of best friend love he has for ˙his group members

he’d never think much about the fact that most of his song lyrics these days were getting oddly too specific in detail about a certain someone

or how whenever he felt down his gut reaction was to call you up because the sound of your voice seemed to make everything better

or how he really really likes cuddling with you after long days of practice

and when you stop by the studio when he’s stuck on a track and just pull him to the couch to lay down for a while to get a break from staring at that damned screen, he’d instantly relax in your hold, sighing in content as your fingers twirled around his curls

and yeah his stomach is filled with butterflies and his ears are all red all that corny stuff but you’re his best friend and best friends cuddle sometimes too right?

best friends also feel the urge to kiss one another on the cheeks? perhaps sometimes they fantasize about what it would be like to kiss each other on the lips?

ok maybe not.

chan knew some of his thoughts were a bit odd. but you were really pretty so it was understandable. you were his safe place and the closest thing he had to home besides his members.

unbeknownst to him, you were honestly no better, a bit more aware of the fact that you could possibly be in love with the idiot but you were still in denial nonethless

whenever felix or hyunjin would tease you about your relationship with chan you’d feign disgust like he’s my best friend that’s weird! but your cheeks are red anyways and you’re kind of stuttering and hey is it hot in here or what-

when you had tough days chan would spam you with encouraging texts, a million obnoxious emojis, memes, just anything to make you smile and it always always worked, just the sight of a notification from chan always made you light up but that’s what best friends are for right?

friends make the world seem brighter, that’s all chan was to you, a friend.

and chan cared a lot about his friends, so it only made sense..

but unlike his other friends, you always got special treatment

he’d give you gifts for your friendship anniversary despite all the suggestive looks from his group members, kissed your forehead when bidding you goodbye and always sent you good morning and good night texts each and every single day

he’d go out of his way for you always and all of that just seemed normal, natural to him. because he loves with his whole heart and he doesn’t even realize it

he wouldn’t really come to terms with things until one of the members like screams at him to just stfu already because he won’t stop talking about you and he somehow makes everything about you and it’s driving them insane

they’d be like we get it you’re in love with y/n shut up already

and he’d just be a stuttering mess like !! no im not !! and yet his heart is racing in his chest and everyone looks at him with an unamused glare

changbin would be like “everything you’ve written these last few weeks are all about them-”

felix would chime in like “you killed your phone battery texting them all day and then used my phone to call them so you could talk for three hours straight.”

jisung is like “yeah and you bought like ten different gifts for your friendship anniversary but you gave me a set of socks for my birthday-”

huh wait maybe he is in love with you.

“those socks were knitted and really nice.” would be his only line of defense

the rest of the afternoon the members would just tease him about all his lovesick puppy habits that he was completely unaware of

like how his face lights up the moment you walk into the room

or how he can never go shopping without picking up something for you because hey y/n would look really cute in this!

and that he even mumbles your name sometimes when he’s sleeping lord help the boy

things kind of go to hell because now he can’t look at you without blushing and stuttering

he’s panicking because how the hell could he have fallen in love with his best friend who probably only sees him as a brother? if you liked him back surely you would’ve let him know by now, i mean if he was as obvious as his members said he was with his feelings there’s no way you weren’t aware of his infatuation with you.

but you were on the same boat really, to you, it seemed as though chan was affectionate with everyone, he smooched jeongin’s cheeks every now and then, and the socks he got for jisung’s birthday were kind of nice? you weren’t that special right? there’s no way chan could fall in love with someone like you anyways... right?

you knew him better than you knew yourself so his odd behaviour definitely did not go unnoticed even tho your sheer lack of brain cells prevented you from realizing why he was acting odd in the first place

the good morning and good night texts stopped, the spams of memes stopped, it was just radio silence for a few days and it was starting to freak you out but it was close to the deadline for the new album so he could just be stressed and you could just be overreacting

you figured you’d stop by the studio at like ass o’clock like always with some takeout for chan because you knew he never ate much when he pulled all nighters, you even threw in some of his favorite snacks and energy drinks, bringing your laptop with you to get some work done of your own hopefully

you did your signature knock on the door before entering but chan still jumped at the sight of you, weirdly startled by your presence, avoiding your eyes and only managing to cough and give you a tilt of a nod in greeting before gluing his eyes back to his computer screen

your first initial reaction is did i do something wrong :( and you intend to ask chan about it but he puts his headphones in and seems rather busy, you remind yourself again that he’s just focused on the new album he’d never purposefully ignore you.

you’ll ask him later, taking a seat on the couch, scrolling through social media mindlessly as your thoughts can’t seem to drift away from the boy across from you and how fluffy and soft his hair looks today.

after a good fifteen minutes pass, chan still hasn’t touched the food you brought which leaves you no choice but to annoy him to ensure he takes proper care of himself. calling his name multiple times to no avail, you tap the space bar, pausing the track before removing his headphones.

“channie, you can ignore me if you want to but i won’t let you ignore getting your vitamins and nutrients. i know you didn’t eat dinner. so eat.” he’s still not looking at you, just nods, clearing his throat awkwardly before turning over towards the takeout you brought for him and taking a seat at the couch.

you follow behind him, sitting right beside him. just a week ago you were here with chan laying on your chest, watching tiktoks of cats but now here you were, in the same spot but this time chan was silent, closed off. the complete opposite to his usual warm and bubbly demeanor.

he didn’t even bother to deny the fact that he was ignoring you, he just ate silently and fear starts to consume you because maybe chan really was upset with you?

before you figured he was probably just stressed and overly focused on the track he was working on but now it seems obvious he’s blatantly ignoring you, not even sparing a thank you for the takeout which was really unlike him. he always thanked you for taking care of him with tight hugs and sloppy kisses on your forehead. now he didn’t even look at you.

half of you was agitated that he was giving you the silent treatment instead of just being honest with you about whatever was bothering him but the other half of you really wanted to smooch his chubby cheeks filled with rice because wow he looked really really cute.

as annoyed with him as you were, you couldn’t help but appreciate his bareface, it was you favorite look of all, when he didn’t look like a famous idol, instead just a regular boy with blemishes and unruly hair in grey sweats and a hoodie.

a grain of rice hugged the corner of his lip, you fought back the urge to kiss it away. he was so unfairly attractive it made you want to punch him

you lean forward, reaching out to him to wipe the stray food away but he evades your touch, leaving your hand raised awkwardly out in front of you in rejection. now he didn’t even want you to touch him?

“did i do something wrong?” you didn’t realize how hurt you were by his silence, by his disgust of you, how he felt like a stranger these days. you kicked yourself inwardly for sounding so broken but the tone of voice seemed to strike something in chan because he finally met eyes with you for the first time in what felt like forever.

“w-what no not at a-all what makes you think that?”

“chan you’ve ignored all my texts for the last three days. you haven’t talked to me in nearly a week and now you can’t even spare a hello when i come in? you’re even avoiding my touch like i have the plague or something.” guilt washes over him immediately and he puts down the plate of food and looks at you with those brown eyes that are all sad and regretful and you forgive him before he even opens his mouth because you’re just that helplessly in love with the idiot

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to, really, i just have a lot on my mind right now and i just...” he turns to look away again but you place your hand to his chin, turning him forward to meet eyes with you again, he doesn’t shy away from your touch this time

“chan if i said something or did something wrong that bothered you, y’know you can always talk to me right?” you said earnestly, cupping his cheek in your hand, he leaned into your touch, humming gently. relief enraptured your heart, along with warmth

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i promise.” his eyes don’t leave yours, nor does his voice waver, so you believe him

“then why are you ignoring me?”

“because...” he tries to get the words out but his brain is going a mile a minute and you’re really close to him. you’re turned to face him, sitting criss crossed, knees bumping against his, he can feel your body warmth and it’s kind of sending him into overdrive

“because?” you urge him further, unable to help your lips from curling downwards in worry. he’s silent still, biting his bottom lip anxiously and you consider giving up for a moment but then he pulls your hand away from his cheek, instead holding it tight in his.

“i realized something. the guys, they made me realize some things.” he starts, eyes flittering past each and every single one of your features, admiring them silently to himself. how did it take him so long to realize he was in love with you? you were beautiful, his best friend, his whole heart, his muse.

earlier, his eyes were glued to the screen because he was rereading the words he’s written over the last few weeks and he couldn’t quite believe he wrote lyrics that were literally entirely about you and he had no idea, just assumed he had some new rush of creativity or something.

of course he was in love with you, he always been in love with you.

“yeah?” you rub your thumb over his hand slowly in an attempt to ease some of his anxieties. whatever it was he needed to tell you, it was clearly taking a toll on him, he was fidgeting, sighing over in over again and shaking his head trying to clear his thoughts. you felt a bit bad, perhaps you were prying too much?

“look i just–– i know we’re best friends, and the last thing i want to do is jeopardize that so if what im about to say makes you uncomfortable or something j-just forget it ever happened okay?” unknowingly, you hold in you breath, fear for his next words knocking the wind out of you.

“i... i like you. like like you, and- i don’t know how to deal with it so i’ve just been avoiding you and i’m sorry- wait why are you laughing?” his eyebrows are all furrowed and his cheeks are bright red and he’s squeezing your hand in confusion and you just look at him and just die of laughter

why were you laughing? you weren’t sure. maybe it was relief? joy? just pure utter love for the idiot in front of you?

“channie-” you attempt, but your laughter still has control over your lungs so you just cling to the boy helplessly, looking up at him with so much happiness in your eyes that he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful that maybe this laughter is good laughter?

“why are you laughing! i just confessed to you, put my heart out on the line and your response is laughter?” he’s smiling despite the confused tone of his voice, nudging you playfully but you pull him into you, shoving your face in the crook of his neck trying your hardest to get out the last of your giggles. with one last deep sigh, you prepare yourself to finally give him a proper response

“i’m sorry for laughing channie i’m just really happy. and relieved.” you finally pull away from him, resting your forehead against his, cupping his face once again in your hands.

“i like you too chan, i’ve liked you for a really really long time.”

the smile that lights up his face is one you’ll never forget, his eyes practically disappear, his dimples protruding through those precious cheeks of his and you can’t help the small laugh in happiness at the sight

“thank god i was actually losing my mind you know, changbin and jisung have been making fun of me all week, clowning me for being a lovesick puppy.”

“is that why they’ve been wiggling their eyebrows whenever i walk by-”

“unfortunately yes.”

“chan you should’ve just told me!”

“yeah well! i thought you saw me as like a brother or something!”

“what- no! i’ve literally been in love with you since the moment we met you idiot-”

“yeah well i’ve been writing songs about you for the last month, songs that you helped with and you didn’t notice a thing-”

at that you just :O bc realization hits u like a train n yea wait a minute he was pretty obvious..

he just gets all red again and then you smile at him and he’s smiling back at you and with the dopiest grin on his face he’s like

“can i kiss u..” and u dont bother to reply you just grab his cheeks and connect your lips with his

the kiss is kind of a mess tho bc you’re both just so ridiculously happy that you can’t stop smiling so yea its not a proper kiss but its filled with giggles and each time you pull away chan only leans forward to peck you again and again because he cant seem to get enough really and he’s just so elated that he can finally do this as many times as he wants

in conclusion chan loml<3

requests are open! :) ↳ notes: tysm for all the kind welcome back msgs ily all sm omg <3 i ended up combining two requests as they were a bit similar i hope thats okay hehe <3 also sry if this is sloppy this is my first post in a long time & im kind of rusty .. whew

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan requests #stray kids

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland (apparently deactivated, idk what’s up with that)

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

@radkesgirl83

@wheretheriversrunintothesea

@heartfelt-pen

@auds24

@geekycanuck (Better late than never, huh?!)

@lunarstarknight

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?" The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time. I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sigh for sy

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herofics · 3 years

Text

Love in the fire rewrite

So Idk how many of you have read my first fic, but this is a rewrite of that. I cringe when looking at the first version, but I really wanted to make it better so this is my attempt at that. You can find the original here. I’ve never done a rewrite so Idk if I’m doing this right, but hey, it’s my fic I can do what I want with it. Also gender neutral reader in this version. If you compare this one to the original, I feel like you can also see that I write Bakugou differently, since so much time has passed and there has been a lot of character development between then and now.

Here is the description of the reader’s quirk: So basically it’s a fire healing quirk and I based this on the way a classic phoenix works. So the reader can burst out in flames and have great healing powers. Their tears can heal others and they can heal themselves at night. The wounds start burning and it’s really painful but it’s also super powerful. The bigger healing stuff happens at night, but smaller wounds repair pretty quickly. The quirk can’t regrow lost limbs or stuff like that, so you can kill them by suffocation, beheading and major blood loss, but it has to be a lot of blood.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. You hitting the ground, the villain looming over you with his blade and Bakugou turning around just in time to see the villain bring the blade down to your shoulder. The villain ripped the jagged blade out of your shoulder and brought it down again and again. You could see what was happening, you even struggled against it, but you didn’t feel any pain, which you thought to be very odd. The only thing you really felt, was that warm, wet feeling of your blood spreading through your clothes, an unfortunately familiar feeling for you.

Bakugou was terrified for you, the pain you must have been in, the terror you must have felt. He was trying to get to you, but the other villains kept getting in his way. Bakugou was blasting them away left and right, but there seemed to be no end to them. He knew you wouldn’t die because of your quirk, but that knowledge surely didn’t make it any easier for either of you.

However, you didn't feel any pain, none at all, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out, but it just never happened. The villain seemed to finally get bored of stabbing an unresisting body, and left to attack Bakugou. With the last of your strength, you grabbed the man’s ankle. Your grip was very weak, but enough for him to notice something was holding him back. The villain looked down on you, almost with pity in his eyes, but that was soon replaced by enraged glee. He knelt down and with one final swing, he plunged the knife into your wrist. The pain hit you like a lighting bolt. It was like all the pain you hadn’t felt in the moments before, came down on you, it felt like you would be in pain forever. You weren’t even yelling, you were just gasping for air.

“Oh, finally my quirk wore off” he said and clapped excitedly. “It’s a pain amplifier, if you were wondering. It reserves the pain for a while and then hits you with all of it at once, wonderful isn’t it?” he laughed.

Bakugou was probably the most angry he had ever been, but he also felt incredibly helpless. He couldn’t get to you, the one he loved and was supposed to protect. Then it pierced the air, your scream. He looked towards you and saw you writhing and screaming on the ground. At that moment he didn’t give a shit if he put someone in a coma for the rest of their life. He would do anything to make sure you would get out of this alive, so he bulldozed his way through the group of villains in front of him.

“Die you fucking bastards! Get the hell out of my way!” he yelled.

When he finally managed to clear all the villains out of his way, he ran to you, he ran as fast as he could. When he got to your trembling form, he realized how badly you were hurt, the amount of blood around you was immense. You had stopped making any kind of noise and were now just trembling on the ground. Bakugou picked you up and started running towards the school, he knew the only one who could ease the coming night for you was Recovery Girl, and he feared even she wouldn’t be much help. When he finally got to the school, you had fallen terrifyingly limp in his arms. He ran straight into Kirishima in his frenzied state.

“Bakugou? What the hell happened? Why do they look like that?” Kirishima asked, with clear panic in his voice.

“Move!” Bakugou growled at his friend and kept running.

When he finally reached the nurse’s office, he threw the door open. Recovery Girl jumped a little at the sudden noise, but when the elderly lady noticed what Bakugou was carrying, she jumped down from her chair and hurried to him.

“Lay them on the bed” she said while pointing to her right. “I’ll start the treatment immediately”

Bakugou was quiet, which was quite uncommon for him. He was seething with anger, sure, but he also felt helpless, it wasn’t a new feeling for him, but one he hated. He watched quietly as Recovery Girl finished with her treatment. When the elderly lady turned to him with a pained look on her face, he knew, he knew what you would have to endure tonight.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help them. I’m familiar with their quirk and I am sorry they have to go through that again”

“No! No!” Bakugou yelled and hit the table at the end of your bed, denting it. “You were supposed to help!”

“I did what I could. You are aware of their quirk, yes? I know it will be hell tonight, but they will be alright”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for nothing” he hissed.

Bakugou was ushered to the corridor, while Recovery Girl and another nurse cleaned your wounds and stitched and bandaged you up. He was sitting on the floor and banging his head against the wall behind him. When Recovery Girl stepped to the hallway, she told Bakugou she would inform the principal of what had happened. He was allowed back in the room, but he should avoid unnecessarily touching you.

You looked so pale laying there laying there. You were breathing very shallowly and you looked like you could drop dead at any moment. He knew what the next night would hold for you. That unbearable pain of your quirk putting your body back together, wound by wound, cell by cell. He hadn’t seen it himself, but you had told him about it before. The last time your quirk had to activate and heal you, he could hear the screaming outside the school building and he had been nowhere near the nurse’s office at the time.

Bakugou sat down next to your bed. He felt tired now that all the adrenaline had worn off and he hated it. He hated that he wasn’t able to spare you from the pain to come. Someone opened the door and the little noise it made, made Bakugou look up from you. It was that damn Deku and the rest of the extras.

“Get the hell out!” he yelled at them, but none of them listened.

Most of the class bursted into the room, speaking frantically and asking Bakugou what had happened. He hated the thoughts these people brought with them. Not the fact that your friends had come to see you but the fact that it made him think like this. Like anyone else could’ve saved you on time.

“Bakugou, what happened?” Todoroki asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Bakugou hated himself the second the words left his lips, but he said them anyway. “It’s their own damn fault that they can’t look out for themselves. I’m not their fucking protector” But he should be, right? He was allowed to be.

“You know what the next night is going to be for them right?” Midoriya asked, with worry in his voice.

“I fucking know, can everyone stop asking me that. Now get the fuck out, all of you!” Bakugou yelled.

None of them moved to leave. None of them cared that Bakugou was yelling his lungs out, telling them to leave. Everyone was worried for you, and when Bakugou finally stopped yelling, he stomped towards the door, and slammed it shut behind him. Midoriya was sure it would break from the force of the impact, but nothing happened.

Bakugou had left, and no one knew where he had gone. He couldn’t even look at you anymore, he couldn’t bear to watch what was going to happen, so he roamed around the city, trying to find the one who had done this to you, since it had come to his attention that the main villain had gotten away from the police. He was working pretty much on instinct, running around the back streets and alleyways near the crime scene, but he found nothing. He found no one, and all he could do was yell at the evening sky.

When Bakugou was making his way back to the school, it was almost dark, the sun had almost set and he knew it was almost time. He had decided he wouldn’t be with you. You probably didn’t want him there anyway, it was his fault that you were about to go through so much pain, he wasn’t able to help you on time, he wasn’t able to prevent this. He knew it wasn’t his fault that you had decided to protect him from the villain, but he was convinced it was his fault that he wasn’t able to help you.

He was walking towards the dorms when it started, the screaming. He knew it was you, who else could it really even be. He knew that the pain you had felt hours before was nothing compared to your body healing. He couldn't bear to listen to it. He just wanted to make your pain stop. Before he even realized it, he was sprinting towards school doors, towards you. He had just decided he wouldn't go to you, but there he was, running to you, always to you.

When he got to the nurse’s office, everyone had left, all except for one. Deku was still there, holding your hand and trying to calm you, but it was in vain. Bakugou rushed to the other side of the bed and took your other hand to his, giving Deku a bit of a death glare, which he took as his cue to leave.

You were screaming, or at least you thought you were, you couldn’t really be sure, since all you could hear was the humming and roaring of the flames as they healed you. That was your quirk, that was your healing fire, extremely useful, but incredibly painful. You had hated this side of your quirk for as long as you could remember. The fact that it healed little wounds and bruises with almost no pain and no time at all was useful, but when you got seriously hurt, it was hell. There was only really one good side to your quirk that you had found, your tears could heal others, but that was about it. The healing would’ve been much easier if you could’ve at least passed out, but your quirk wouldn’t even allow that, it was merciless in its intensity.

You could feel someone holding your left hand, the person was saying something, but you couldn’t hear it over the humming in your ears. Your vision was blurry and unfocused, but you could make out colors. You saw a head of green hair, so you assumed it was Midoriya. He has stayed with you, even though you really wouldn’t have wanted him to. You hated when people saw you like this. Then there was another moving shape in your field of vision, this one was blond. Then someone grabbed your right hand, and squeezed it tightly. The hands that were now holding your right hand were soft, but you could feel scars on them. The grip on your left hand disappeared. You assumed your angry to boot boyfriend had kicked Midoriya out.

Now there were just the two of you. You, writhing in agony on the bed and Bakugou holding your hand. At some point you realized he was talking to you, very loudly. At first you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but since he kept repeating the same thing, you eventually figured it out.

“Everything is gonna be fine! You hear me you fuckin idiot?!”

And that’s how the night went, him holding your hand and you feeling like it was all some surreal fever dream. At some point in the very early hours of the morning your screams had dwindled into just occasional whining and groaning. You knew Bakugou was there with you, he hadn’t let go of your hand the whole time, but it was all a bit of a blur. What you could remember best was his red eyes, and the tears that streaked down his cheeks.

The morning finally came and the flames were gone, leaving behind dozens of light scars and you out of breath and sweaty. The fire had melted away the special stitches, but the fireproof bandages remained, and you were covered with them.

You looked at Bakugou, who squeezed your hand and got up, heading for the door.

“Katsuki? Where are you going?” you asked shakily and sat up.

“I don’t fuckin know, somewhere other than here” he said.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone right now, you were here all night, so please… don’t leave me now” you pleaded, holding back tears.

“Why the fuck do you want me here? If you had just taken care of yourself, none of this would’ve happened, you wouldn’t have had to go through this shit… because of me”

“You think this is your fault?” you asked quietly. “Just… come here Katsuki”

Bakugou walked back to you, but he didn’t raise his head to face you. He didn’t want to look at you, he couldn’t. You had been so badly hurt, and he was to blame for not helping you in time.

“I… I’m so sorry” he said, his voice wavering.

You were a tad confused. Of course it had crossed your mind that he would find a way to blame himself, but he seemed seriously distraught.

“Why the hell aren’t you saying anything?” he growled, his voice now mostly back to normal.

He was now looking at you, he was finally looking at you again. He looked angry, but there was also something else shadowing his face, it was sadness. Your Katsuki looking sad was quite new to you.

“What am I supposed to say? I don’t understand why you’re apologizing to me in the first place” you answered, taken aback by his pained expression.

“Like I fucking said, it’s my damn fault you had to go through that. If I was just stronger, you’d be fine”

“Oh nononono. The only person whose fault this is, is that damn asshole who stabbed me. So don’t you dare even consider that this was your fault”

He didn’t really know what to say so he just kept looking at you. Your eyes, your shoulders, your arms, all those scars scattered across your upper body, that your shirt wasn’t hiding. He reached his hand towards your shoulder, stopped before actually touching you.

“Can I” he asked.

“Sure, they might still be a bit warm though” you smiled.

“You know I’m no good at talking, so I’m probably mostly gonna shut up after this, but I promise to find the bastard who did this to you, and beat them senseless” he huffed.

“Don’t go overboard, I don’t want you to end up in prison” you chuckled.

“Fuck that, I’m never gonna be away from you again you idiot” he scoffed.

“Well that’s good to hear” you said with a smile.

Bakugou loved your smile. It was so bright and warm. He moved from the chair to your bed to sit next to you and pulled you closer. He started kissing your neck and shoulders very gently. He laid you down on the bed so he was on top of you and you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled on them a bit, so he’d lift his head to face you. You kissed him on the lips. The kiss was rough, as it usually was with him, but it was also gentle. He didn’t want to push you after the hellish night you’d had but he wanted you. Your lips parted as he moved his back to your neck and started peppering kisses down your neck to your chest. Bakugou was always careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, but he also took what he wanted, as long as you were willing to give.

You bit his ear very gently and whispered to him: “I love you Katsuki, remember that”

“I love you too” he panted, with his face buried in your neck. “And I never want to see you hurt again”

“Can’t make any promises on that” you chuckled.

Bakugou lifted his head to look at you, straight in the eyes. He had a serious expression on his face and he said: “Don’t fuckin joke about that”

“Guess I need someone to protect me when I get in trouble then” you smirked mischievously.

“Guess so” he said and kissed you again.

Bakugou swore he would never let you get hurt again, not if it was up to him.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #rewrite

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ikesenhell · 4 years

Text

Heatwave

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine on my page under the Masterlist. NOTES: Thank you so much to the wonderful folks who came out and hung out with me as I wrote my first Ikesen piece since ‘American Dream’ in ages. I’d been batting around this idea at the lovely @a-shout-to-the-void and finally buckled down and did it. TW: torture, abuse mentions and descriptions, blood, painful injuries. A lot of descriptions and references to Ieyasu’s childhood with the Imagawa Don’t worry, no one dies. It also somehow has a good ending? Idk man. Also, hello to my first piece with Yoshimoto in it whatupppppp

----

It was three months after the second disappearance of the Takeda, and the main hall was deathly quiet. All were assembled--Nobunaga lording on his dias, his allies gathered close--and no one spoke.

Ieyasu wished someone would.

“He wasn’t difficult to bring in at all,” Mitsuhide commented, as if it were the weather. Clouds from the shoreline--perhaps it will rain.

(Funny, they could use some of that. The summer was stifling and showed no signs of abating, even as the seasons turned. The crops weren’t going as well as expected, and Azuchi was a cooker. They’d slitted the screens open, but even then, Ieyasu could see sweat beading on Hideyoshi’s forehead. Even Mitsuhide, usually pristine and inhuman, sported small pools of darkened silk in the underlayers that peeked through.)

Masamune almost smiled. “Do you really think he was stupid enough to come here on purpose? He’s got guts.”

Nobunaga’s perceptive red eyes flickered in Ieyasu’s direction.

“Perhaps.” Mitsuhide allowed a smile.

“Probably to try his hand at Nobunaga.” But even Hideyoshi seemed unconvinced. “Maybe the last ditch effort of the Takeda before we destroy them.”

Ieyasu hated that he glanced at Mitsunari, looking for something in the way of understanding, anything he hadn’t guessed at already. Even if that stupid puzzled expression was there, it was something. No luck. Mitsunari had the hard, calculating stare of a man who already knew the score.

Damn it all to hell.

“He no doubt knows where Shingen and his ilk have scattered to. Until we have found them, they remain a threat.” With a subtle nod of an imperious head (the fine sheen of sweat glittered on his neck), he motioned to Mitsuhide. “Do what you must.”

“With all due respect, my lord,” the other man noted, “I believe there is someone else here who might be better suited to… gathering the information you require from our latest guest.”

His hands were cold. His hands were cold and they were all looking at him. Ieyasu balled his fingers into fists and willed them to stop trembling.

(Was he angry? Furious. Incensed. They needed rain in Mikawa and the crops were a concern and in the vacuum that the Takeda left there were a thousand bureaucratic things to consider and he was never not angry, only three steps away from it where he could look at it from what he liked to think was a cool remove when it was really like a fiery tornado. They’d taken so much from him and here he was again, to take more with a smile, and he couldn’t do a damn thing without destroying it anyway.)

Nobunaga just stared at him. “Well?”

And he was the best man for the job.

Ieyasu nodded, his face as porcelain-still as he could force. “Of course.”

---

The first time he met Imagawa Yoshimoto, he only said one word.

Ieyasu was only a child, still in the hands of his enemies. He had bruised banding around his legs from switches and cut knees, hair that went every which way and eyes that still welled traitorously with tears when struck. Illusions of fair treatment were gone. All he had was will and a directive: this is what you can do for Mikawa. If being beaten saved Mikawa, that was his responsibility.

Wasn’t it?

There was a banquet and the Imagawa wanted to show him off like a prize pet. Ieyasu was quiet, not stupid.He smiled politely and remembered all of the tiny details of court manners, the little things that would help him (Mikawa) survive. They’d put him into a finer haori than the one they usually allowed and seated him where all the other nobles could spy on the little waif from a nothing place.

Yoshimoto, he later learned, was the beanpole teen sitting perfectly only a few spaces away from him. Dark hair, a charming smile, pretty eyes. Ieyasu hated them all on reflex. Whoever he was--that didn't matter. Ieyasu smiled with thanks to one of his benefactors and imagined stabbing him between the eyes.

How would he do it first? Who would go? It made sense to start with the Imagawa head--of course, that was only the correct order of things--but he could also trap them all in the hall and set it ablaze, let them scrabble over each other like rats. He could pick off their families one by one. He could--

Someone set a sake cup heavily in front of him, only half-poured. Ieyasu blinked rapid-fire up at the teen smiling down at him.

“Smile,” he instructed, fluttering a fan entirely-too-close to both of them. And then he rushed away.

Ieyasu glanced down at the cup on his table and realized two things: one, he’d allowed his polite facade to slip. He could feel the stormcloud in the grit of his teeth. Two, the Imagawa teenager had blocked him from view with the fan--and probably spared him a beating.

Only later did he learn his name.

---

The dungeon stairs were slick. Every once in a while, someone came and cleaned the mold and mildew from the flagstones, but that was a lost cause. It seemed like the only moisture in Azuchi had escaped to its basements. Wet-blanket heat settled foul in the belly of Mitsuhide’s workspace, the little light lancing from narrow windows illuminating hazy curls of breath-sucking humidity. Ieyasu disguised his disgust at the foul smells the way he knew best--frowning.

Their prisoner was moved to the very last cell, the ‘interrogation room’. Mitsuhide’s gentle words didn't disguise its purpose. It was an execution chamber and torture cell. Ieyasu never went in to discover its secrets. What he did was in the open, precisely where everyone could see it.

(Because if you were going to hurt someone, you did it openly, he’d decided. Cowards hid abuse. If you raised the sword, you showed the sunlight its deadly glint and let heaven know your intent. Violence couldn’t be wrapped in a silken kimono and paraded before leering eyes--)

The door was shut. Ieyasu didn't waste the time to reflect on it. No interior monologue did him good here. Shunting thoughts and the heavy latch to the side, he stepped in.

Their prisoner was kneeling. Mitsuhide prepped well. His knees were tied to those uneven slats the other man so preferred, jagged, uneven boards guaranteed to end with shattered shin bones if left long enough. He’d been stripped of his fine armor and things, reduced to a (still beautiful, dark grey and blue silk) final layer of kimono. Unkempt, shiny dark hair spilled loose on his shoulders. As Ieyasu stepped inside, those gold eyes met his.

Yoshimoto had the audacity to smile.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said, light as a feather, his voice already hoarse. Like commenting on the weather. Awfully hot, isn’t it? It should have rained by now. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

All the anger he kept so tightly coiled unfurled, the head of it raring like a threatened snake, and Ieyasu bared his fangs, too. “You should have. Why did you come?”

It was a stupid question. They both knew that. Yoshimoto just smiled that serene, sad, painter’s smile. Maybe, Ieyasu thought, if he had half of Yoshimoto’s artistic eye (the way he’d never had Mitsunari’s reflex genius or Masamune’s slick tongue or Nobunaga’s command or--), he could take the scene before him and transform it into a painting. The light cast over his prisoner’s back in sharp relief, all of the folds of silk and linen and hair akin to one of those Portuguese paintings they tried so hard to pawn off on them.

“Are you going to answer?” Ieyasu demanded. Cold, cold, cold. His hands were cold.

Yoshimoto dipped his head silently. “You know why I came, and you know why I won’t leave.”

Ieyasu sucked in his breath--like that would crush the flames of anger twisting, tornadoing in him. It burned in his throat. First, he’d get Yoshimoto off those planks. Those would come later.

---

When he emerged several hours later--without anything to show for his efforts, just blazing fury and frustration renewed and a respect that clawed at his spine--Ieyasu blinked in surprise at the Chatelaine standing just outside the stairwell. He almost missed her. The sun was gone by now, the moon rising in its inconstant arc over Azuchi’s peaks, long lines of moonlight as gentle as the flickering torch light below was ominous.

Of course she was there. Of course.

“How is he?” She asked, and Ieyasu wanted to scream.

“How do you think?” He snapped. “Go inside.”

She didn't move. Instead, she produced a cold cup for him, shoving it into his hands.

“What’s this for?”

“It was hot today. You must be thirsty.”

He stared at the cup in his hands, the silvery liquid inside glowing like moonbeams. “How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

What did that mean? How long had she waited here in the fading dusk, listening to the muffled sounds below, with a cup for him? Was it even for him? How could she give him this when only moments before, he’d washed away the blood of her--her--

Gods, he still couldn’t say it to himself.

“Who told you?” He finally asked, his voice sharp.

She folded her hands over her skirts instead of answering. “Is he alive?”

Of course this was about Yoshimoto. Of course this was. Even the cup was in the interest of getting information. Icy, crawling hatred slithered down the small of his back like sweat. Unceremoniously, Ieyasu dumped the contents of the cup on the ground.

“Ieyasu--!”

He contemplated breaking it. But that wasn’t fair to her. None of this was. None of this was fair to her, just like none of it was fair to him. So instead he shoved the little mug back into her hands and stalked inside, as if moving fast enough would leave all of that behind.

---

For the rest of his captivity, Yoshimoto was less a person and more a concept. Ieyasu saw him sometimes, fleeting glimpses of a young man blooming handsome. What kind of a life did he lead, Ieyasu wondered? It must be the opposite of his plight. No doubt he had enough to eat. No doubt he had clothes that fit, people that cared whether he lived or died, someone to spare a smile at him. No doubt he could sleep at night without a burning hate clawing up his throat and threatening to choke him.

It was hot that summer--sweltering, relentless. Ieyasu’s room had no screens to the courtyard and so he tossed and turned fitfully at night, too uncomfortable to sleep. Sometimes he dreamed of Mikawa and home, home with the people who relied on him to be strong, people who allowed him to step down from his endless responsibility of strength for a day and be a young man again.

They exchanged words only briefly once more, before Ieyasu went home and returned again and razed them, burned their houses the way he’d always dreamed, released all the untamed hatred raring in his heart and finally did for Mikawa what his endless abuse at the Imagawa had never done. They passed in the hallways and Yoshimoto stopped him, a small retinue at his side.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said lightly. Yoshimoto said his name like a name, not a curse, not a burden on a household already determined to hate him. “How are you today?”

What could he say? A thousand callous things spiraled through his mind, each one more vile than the other, until he couldn’t think of a single nice word. He simply shut his mouth and nodded slowly, safely, feeling thick and stupid. “It has been quite hot lately.”

Those gold eyes stared right through him. And at long last, Yoshimoto nodded. “It certainly has. I hope it rains soon. May you have an excellent day.”

When he returned to his room that night, there was a small, beautiful fan sitting in a neat package before his door. Ieyasu let the slow, languid sound of its fluttering lull him to sleep, its cool breeze the first reprieve in months.

---

He didn't think about Imagawa Yoshimoto for a long while after, not even when he served as Imagawa's puppet ruler. That chapter of his life was behind him. Ieyasu had exacted his revenge on Imagawa. That was over.

It was, at least, until the Chatelaine.

---

“Why are you here?” He demanded.

She was waiting for him again in front of the dungeon steps, a small package wrapped in her hands. Her kimono was a soft blue with little white details, modest and cute and practical and perfect. She worked so hard. Everyone knew that. He knew that.

“You didn't have anything to eat this morning,” she answered. The sun wasn’t yet at its peak, but already he could see the waves of heat rolling across the fields behind her, the bronzed backs of villagers in its orange glow. “You almost never miss breakfast.”

“Almost,” he pushed, as if that word made all the difference. Damnit. Damn it all to hell. This was why he had to hate people like her and Mitsunari (and Yoshimoto). The second you saw anything different in them, they pried you open like oystermen searching for pearls and only recoiled in disappointment when they discovered nothing but sand and salt. “You know that this won’t bribe me, right?”

Her cheeks flared white-hot. Good. Hate me. Hate me like I have to hate everyone else who wronged me.

“You do know I like you, right?” She snapped. “I’m your friend. I’m not doing anything to bribe you.”

“Yeah?” Ieyasu sneered, too angry and confused and bitter to stop himself, “Just like you like Imagawa Yoshimoto? Should I expect a love letter--”

She flung the package into his hands (he caught it, barely) and marched away, her shoulders knit tight together.

It still smelled of bean paste when he arrived in the last room of the dungeon, Yoshimoto already prepared and silent for the day. He looked well, for a man who now sported a bruised eye, crusted lip, and a slightly jagged shoulder.

“Good morning, Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he announced, hoarse but polite.

Ieyasu unwrapped the breakfast and examined its contents. There was a little more than usual.

“Your woman,” he announced, (and why was it so hard to sound angry and impassive, why did he want to sound sad?) “Apparently gave me extra food under the impression I might give you some.”

No doubt the prisoner was starving. He’d barely had enough to eat to sustain himself, let alone under the pressure of the torture. But Yoshimoto straightened.

“Is she well?”

No mention of the food. No weakness. Just that endless reservoir of hope that Ieyasu resented, resented because he couldn’t find it anywhere inside himself. Didn't he deserve that kind of serenity?

Silence. Ieyasu considered his words. Yoshimoto, no doubt, was wondering what had become of her, if Nobunaga had exacted on her the same fate that awaited him. The uncertainty was doubtless crushing. A thousand lies presented themselves.

“Yes,” he finally allowed. “She’s fine.”

Yoshimoto smiled. Even through the bloodstained teeth and greasy hair and bruising and marks running roughshod over his arms where everyone could see, he still glowed. “Good.”

---

Ieyasu still dreamed about being with the Imagawa.

Usually it was just the shape of things. The oppressive hot of his bedroom, the rolling waves of contracting pain in his muscles, the crushing emptiness of a room with no sunlight.

Sometimes Ieyasu considered them a mercy. It wasn’t the same as the real thing. He didn't have dreams about how the men decided to test how far his stone expression went, applying hotter and hotter blades to his skin to see if he’d cry. They finally applied a white-hot wakizashi to the tender flesh of his thigh and he screamed so loud he couldn’t talk clearly for a week.

Where was Yoshimoto during all this, he wondered now? There was no way he couldn’t have known. He had a reputation as a lush, but Ieyasu also knew from first-hand battle experience that more lay beneath that pretty exterior. He was like his Takeda cousin: he knew how to play a good game. Had he known just the hint of Ieyasu’s abuse, or had he understood the full spectrum of it? Surely the men of court talked. No doubt they made it a game.

Yoshimoto had to know.

She was surprised when he confronted her in the courtyard. She was hanging up some silks she’d washed, their bright colors like cavalry banners. Her stone-face was good, too, but not as good as his. He could see the thin lines of worry and sleepless nights stretched in the fine skin under her eyes.

“Why him?” Ieyasu demanded.

The chatelaine blinked at him, registering his question. No immediate answer. That was wise. “Why do you want to know?”

“Do you know what the Imagawa are like?” He hissed. “Do you know what they did? Do you have any idea?”

(It was hot out, so hot that he could see the wet silks drying already. No breeze lifted them. They hung like corpses strung out as an example. The remains of the burns on his thighs and arms, even now, stung superheated. The prickle of sweat against them was agonizing and he’d learned to live with it.)

Slowly, she dipped a hand into the cold water of her wash bucket and took his fingers in hers. Sweet relief! Ieyasu tried not to unbend under her gentle touch, the kindness, tried to convince himself that this was for someone else’s benefit and not his. History said otherwise. Long before she’d met Yoshimoto, she’d been like this.

“No,” she said at last. “I don’t know much about who they were to you, just the vague details you’ve shared.”

“Then why him?” Ieyasu groped for his real question. It was that simple, wasn’t it? Yoshimoto wasn’t just on the wrong side. He was on the worst side. Even Uesugi Kenshin was better than an Imagawa.

“Well…” She dipped her hand back in the bucket, splashed more water on his arms. It clung to the silk of his sleeves and cooled the worst of his burns. “There’s a lot to like about him.”

Of course there was. Yoshimoto was intelligent and clever. He had excellent taste and was handsome and diplomatic, even if he had a reputation as a useless leader and a lush. He’d never been anything but kind, and Ieyasu hated that.

---

Yoshimoto hit the floor with a thud and a yelp, but an unsatisfying one. Ieyasu prowled around him.

“You know what Nobunaga wants.” The sun shot unrelenting into their chamber, superheating everything. Ieyasu was sweating like a madman and refused to cede even a single article of clothing. He would not reveal the testament of his failures hidden underneath. “Just give me where Shingen went.”

The other man laughed miserably and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Ieyasu kicked him back over.

“He would have told you,” Ieyasu snarled. “That was your plan. Your plan was to come here, get her, go back into hiding with her and the rest of the Takeda. Wasn’t it?”

For once, Yoshimoto sighed and shut his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Giving us his whereabouts--”

“Ieyasu,” Yoshimoto interrupted wearily (and he still said his name like a name, goddamnit, not a curse or a burden or an evil thing, even after all of this), “She hates war. Why would I bring her straight into one?”

Outside, heat thunder rolled. No break in the heat yet. Its siren song drove the farmers and townspeople mad with hope. Hideyoshi had looked out sagely that morning and declared that it wouldn’t rain--not today--but it might later that week. They usually trusted him with that kind of thing. Right now, Ieyasu wished that it would come pouring down and drown them both.

“That has no relevance to where Takeda Shingen is,” Ieyasu finally responded.

“I don’t know where Shingen is.” Yoshimoto laid his head on the cool flagstones, eyes still shut, blood flecked over his hair and the filthy silk of the kimono he’d worn the first day. “He wouldn’t have told me.”

Cold, cold, cold hands. “So you’ve said. You’ve said that at least a dozen times.”

A pause. Yoshimoto’s chest heaved a slow, jagged tempo. “He wouldn’t tell me because of her. Because of us.”

Ieyasu wanted to scream again. He could feel it bubbling in his throat, like the ghost of that white-hot blade pressed to his skin.

They were too nice too nice too nice, they both knew what he was doing to him and still she washed his hand and still he said his name like a friend and still there was no damn rain and still she didn't hate him he didn't hate him why couldn’t they just hate him

“Why?” He finally managed, his voice a twisted blade that tore at him the whole way out. “Don’t you hate me?”

Yoshimoto opened his eyes, still gold and pale against the gray walls, still handsome and bright and sharp.

“You’re doing what you have to do,” he managed at last. “And I’m certain you hate me. I probably deserve it.”

Burning burning burning cold hands. The sweat seared him. “Did you know? Did you know the whole time I was there, and did you ignore it?”

At last, they were down to the crux of the whole thing. Yoshimoto wriggled like he meant to sit up (as if they were peers in this moment, just sitting and listening to a friend share their worries) and when his body failed him, he slumped over as best he could, eyes locked and gaze unwavering.

“Tokugawa Ieyasu,” he said, “You do know I was thirteen?”

That wasn’t an answer.

“I knew there was something wrong,” he answered at last. All the words sounded labored. “The details, I never knew. Just the hot room and that you looked ready to kill half of us if given the chance from time to time. I never would’ve known anything specific unless it came from you.”

(He was angry. So, so, so angry. A free-wheeling, blistering summer, crop-killing, volcanic kind of anger that threatened to overflow and kill everything in its wake.)

Ieyasu curled his fingers so tight that his knuckles creaked. Yoshimoto slumped his head back to the floor, shut his eyes and took another labored breath. All of his bruises were out in the open, where everyone could see them. There were no hidden marks, nothing easily covered in the painted facade of a silk--like desecrating a pretty vase, Ieyasu thought.

“Did you know that your uncle--I think it was your uncle--burned me?” He announced. “My arms, my legs. He held a knife over a fire and waited until it glowed, then tried to see if I would scream. He only stopped when I finally did. I’ve still got the scars.”

Yoshimoto’s eyes were open again. There was no stone face--just a well of confusion and relentless sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Ieyasu instantly wanted him to take it back. “That should never have happened.”

Outside, the thunder rumbled again. They’d both been kids, once. Kids who barely knew each other, who lived in the same place and entirely different worlds and never once knew what lay beyond their circle. There was a faint scar just above Yoshimoto’s collarbone. Ieyasu wondered what it was from.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ieyasu said. “You couldn’t have stopped it anyway.”

---

No one was completely sure when she and Yoshimoto met, though Ieyasu suspected that the Takeda had spies in Azuchi for a long time before the battle. It was likely in their own marketplace. They had fine fabrics and he knew that Yoshimoto, otherwise an unremarkable daimyo, wouldn’t have stood out. He’d noticed her disappearing off to the stalls for supplies more frequently, but her business was also thriving. Everyone wanted her wares.

Mitsuhide found the letters first.

The only thing that saved her from Nobunaga was that she’d revealed nothing treasonous. It was love, plain and simple. His fine calligraphy lay neatly on thin mulberry paper (an artistic touch and beautiful in its own right), every character reserved entirely to her wellbeing and their budding affections. No mention of armies or war. No hatred, no grandstanding. Just love--love, plain and simple and innocent and complicated and all-encompassing and blinding.

But all that meant was she was safe.

And the match made sense, as much as Ieyasu couldn’t stand to admit it. They were both art lovers, convinced of its importance as much as warfare, certain that without it, what kind of a world existed to fight for at all? They used entire leaves of paper discussing dyeing techniques and exchanging book recommendations and talking about their homelands.

(And honestly, Ieyasu hadn’t needed the letters to cement what he already knew. She’d spied Yoshimoto on the battlefield and he saw her whole body light up, eyes blazing with the kind of need he’d never seen in her before. He already knew then. He’d just hoped he was wrong.)

Nobunaga wouldn’t let some traitor daimyo run off with his lucky charm. Not in a thousand years.

Ieyasu rapped on her door late that night, and she opened the screen, bleary eyed from fatigue. She’d barely slept in a week. The red rim of her eyes betrayed every tear she couldn’t shed in front of them.

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled.

“Where are we going?”

“Shut up.”

The silly woman somehow still trusted him. Ieyasu dragged her quietly down the stairs, past the main hall, through the courtyard and out the front door. She wasn’t dressed to be in public and still didn't question him. Without ceremony, he reached the dungeon door and yanked it open, its hinges silvery in the moonlight and depths impenetrable.

She stared at him. “What are we--”

“I said shut up.”

One step at a time, he lead her into the darkness. The stairs were almost dry, the unnatural heatwave baking it clean. Still he was cautious. They reached the bottom and he fetched a lit torch, motioning at the guard on duty to leave without a word, and fetched the key ring. “Lift your skirts and follow me.”

Yoshimoto was back in his holding cell. He was still holding his left shoulder slightly jagged, his breathing shallow but even, his split lip now clear and the grime of his face washed clean. Apparently he’d used his drinking water to do that. He peered intently around the corner at Ieyasu. “Tokugawa--”

Then he saw her, and he fell completely silent.

“Here.” Ieyasu fumbled with the keys (he’d never had to unlock the cell doors) and finally found the right one. “You don’t have long.”

Yoshimoto struggled to rise and failed to get up. He didn't need to. The second Ieyasu cracked the door, she flung herself inside and her arms around him, their bodies bound so tight together that he wondered if they’d ever been separate at all. Her voice cracked, slurred something in her native tongue, the beginnings of a sob rolling through her back.

“Shh.” He lifted his arms with effort, wound his fingers in her hair, kissed her forehead, her head, her eyes, clutched her to him. “Hush, darling. Hush. It’s okay.”

It isn’t, Ieyasu thought. It really isn’t. But they just sat there in silence together, her tears muffled into his chest and his body emanating love like sunlight. And he wondered (as he’d wondered a million things about Imagawa Yoshimoto lately) how a man who’d barely been able to get up this afternoon could summon the strength to smile and hold her so tight.

---

“He doesn’t know anything.”

Nobunaga and Hideyoshi cocked the opposite brow at the same time, which might’ve been comical were it not so deadly serious.

“Is that so?” Nobunaga remarked. It was the tone of voice that let him know this was not a question.

“Shingen didn't divulge where he was going to Imagawa expressly because he knew about the attachment to the chatelaine.” Ieyasu inhaled. “So when he left, he was effectively spurring Imagawa to leave the fight too.”

Mitsunari frowned. “That is a valuable ally to excise for sentimental reasons.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “Practically cutthroat of you, Mitsunari. Color me surprised. As it so happens, I’ve obtained similar intelligence.”

Hideyoshi’s surprise translated loud and clear. “Really?”

“So it would seem. The thorn in our side still has a few petals remaining.”

Nobunaga’s gaze fell back down on Ieyasu, searching him. He’d grown used to most of those inscrutable expressions: contemplative, frustrated, puzzled. Now it was just the brotherly stare he got after some of his worst days on the battlefield.

“How is our prisoner?” He asked.

“Yes indeed,” Mitsuhide purred. “Is he still alive?”

“He’s alive.” Ieyasu paused. “He’s… relatively okay.”

The Devil King’s eyes never wavered. “And what would you recommend we do with him?”

---

Yoshimoto was allowed medical attention and to rest for one week, the meagre possessions he came with restored to him. Even with the fresh scar on his lip and a slight catch in his shoulder (Ieyasu was relatively certain it would smooth out over time), he was still regal and handsome. The cold grey of dawn greeted them with a blinding lightning bolt and a torrential downpour. It soaked through the cracked earth and ran muddy and wild over the fields.

Ieyasu affixed the last of Yoshimoto’s things to the saddlebag himself. “That’s everything.”

Imagawa Yoshimoto smiled at him, despite everything. “I appreciate that.”

The chatelaine lingered in the stable. She’d snuck out to see him off, despite all of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi’s disapproval. Her eyes were puffy with new, unshed tears. “You’re just going to put him out in the rainstorm?”

He glanced out the stable door. It came down in thick, obscuring sheets. “Yep.”

“Come now.” Yoshimoto gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be just fine, love--”

Ieyasu snorted. “Of course you two will.”

The lovebirds started. He relished the look of surprise.

“What does that mean?” She said.

“You idiot, the rain will keep anyone from seeing that you’re gone for at least twenty minutes.” Ieyasu checked it again. “No one on lookout will be able to tell the difference between one rider and two. If you time it right, you can clear the Azuchi fields by the time it lifts. Yes, you’ll get soaked--”

“--It’s perfect cover.” Yoshimoto finished, breathless.

“Ieyasu.” She dashed to his side, catching his hands in hers. They were so warm that it melted through her fingertips and into his--a comfortable, gentle heat. “Ieyasu.”

“Go.” He pointed at the saddlebags. “I smuggled in some of your things. Your weird bag, sewing stuff, some goods. Mitsunari helped me grab extras. No one questions if he takes things. Now get out of here before anyone realizes you’re gone.”

The chatelaine smiled at him--a blazing, beautiful smile--and leaned in and kissed his cheek hard. “Thank you.”

He was going to miss her.

“Go,” he repeated instead. “Go now.”

Yoshimoto and him helped her into the saddle first. Afterwards, Yoshimoto mounted up behind her, wrapping his cloak and body around her as best he could. “Thank you, Tokugawa.”

“If you don’t do right by her,” Ieyasu warned, “I’ll definitely kill you next time.”

“I take that under advisement. Thank you.”

A jerk of the reins and a kick, and they bolted out of the stables and into the pouring rain. Within seconds their figures swam into a vague blur, melding together in the shifting faraway. Only moments later--gone.

Ieyasu stood there alone in the silence, his hands warm, his thoughts swirling like lazy koi in a fishbowl, aimless and unbothered. Without thinking, he stepped outside and stretched out his arms, letting the cold droplets run down his sleeves and cling to his skin.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen fanfic #heatwave #my writing #angst tw #torture tw #tw: torture #tw: violence #tw: blood

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #373

“warm me up in a nova’s glow / and drop me down to the dream below”

Have you ever kissed someone that you thought you’d never kiss? Welp, never thought I'd kiss a girl for most of my life. When was the last time you ate take-out and what was it that you ate? Mom bought us breakfast at Bojangle's the morning after my sleep study. I got a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. Do you enjoy when guys hit on/flirt with you or does it normally make you uncomfortable or annoyed? When was the last time more than one guy was flirting with you at a time? It makes me uncomfortable, especially if it's very obvious and pushy. Like some respectful flirting is fine and can be flattering if I'm single, but you better respect my boundaries and not act like a dog. I don't think two guys have both been openly interested in me since Juan and Jason in high school. Can you name five things you enjoy looking at pictures of? Animals, flowers, waterfalls, expressions of love between people, and boudoir. Would you rather have an eternal winter or an eternal summer? Both sound pretty sucky, but an eternal summer sounds worse. Do you know much about the Greek gods? Not anymore. I did in high school, as mythology was an elective I took. Are there a lot of stray cats and dogs near where you live? Not in this neighborhood. How would you cope with living in isolation away from society? How long do you think you could cope before you went mad? Oh god, I couldn't cope. I'd lose my shit so fast. Have you ever found any hidden treasure? No. Would you ever want to hibernate through the winter? No, I enjoy winter. Which holiday do you prefer, Halloween or Christmas? I like the Halloween vibe more, but I enjoy Christmas more as a holiday. Do you prefer hot or cold drinks overall? Cold. What’s the smallest thing you’ve ended a relationship over? I don't believe I've broken up with anyone over something small. Have you or a member of your family been diagnosed with COVID yet? My older sister got it. It was hell. What’s the dominant color in the room you’re in at the moment? An off-white. Do you know who your mom’s favorite singer is? James Hetfield of Metallica. Easy. What room in your house is the messiest? The spare room. Have you ever used a “puppy face” to get your way? Ha, yeeeaaah... If you could change any law that exists in your current country, what would it be and why? Here comes free healthcare. For obvious reasons. What were the last toppings you had on a pizza? Pepperoni. Would you rather spend an hour walking a dog or riding a horse? Riding a horse. Do you freak out when you need to visit the doctor or the dentist? Nah. Do you prefer The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit movies, if you like any of them? I haven't watched either. Which Harry Potter film was your favourite? What about your least favourite? I haven't watched those, either. What do you think about nose piercings? I like them. Nostril studs especially are really cute imo. How many floors does your house have? One. What’s your favorite flavor of Kool-Aid? I don't really like Kool-Aid anymore. Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Yeah, a cyst. Do you enjoy sappy love songs? Unabashedly. Do you wear a one-piece or a two-piece when you go swimming? One-piece. What would be your biggest pet peeve in a relationship? Not communicating your feelings straight-up. Be straightforward and honest with what you're going through with your partner, for the love of God. Have you ever had a teacher hit on you? Have you ever hit on a teacher? No to both. Do you tend to eat more on Halloween, Thanksgiving, or Christmas? Christmas, because of chocolate stocking stuffers and boxes from Dad, haha. Do you know what an "AMV" is? Yeah, I used to make them. Do you think you have a sad life? In some ways, yeah. What’s one award show you have to watch every year? None. Who do you like more: the Batman or the Joker? The Joker, particularly Heath Ledger's. Do you like Rammstein? Love 'em. What is your favorite small dog breed? Aesthetically, I think pugs, but I've said before and I'll say it a thousand more times: I don't support breeding them. What was the first comic book you ever had an obsession over? I've never been obsessed with a comic book. Do you like kids pop-up books? Those were my absolute favorite kind AS a kid. What is your mother's mother's maiden name? Ummm I'm pretty sure Collins. Have you ever pet a monkey? No. What’s your favorite Owl City song… besides "Fireflies?" I actually really like "Hot Air Balloon." What’s your fave Miley Cyrus song? I don't know many, but I do know "The Climb" is absolutely gorgeous. Fave Rascal Flatts song? Probably "My Wish." But I also really like "Why" and "What Hurts the Most." Fave Justin Bieber song? None. Miley Cyrus, Demi Lavato, or Selena Gomez? Jesus, you really like bands that I don't, haha. I don't know any Demi or Selena songs, so idk. Fave Eminem song? Oh man, I do like a lot of Eminem. I know it's so cliche, but I genuinely adore "Love The Way You Lie." It gives me goosebumps. Do you think you could survive a month of solitary confinement? NO. Absolutely not. I would lose my motherfucking mind. What is something that you find utterly boring? Sports, save for dance, are incredibly blah to me. What noise/sound can put you to sleep? Gentle, steady rain tapping on the window. When you are upset, do you tend to shut others out? YYYYYYYYYYYEP. When was the last time you felt abandoned by someone? bleh Does the sight of blood gross you out? No. Do you like red roses, or do you prefer another color? I love red ones, but I really, really like the ones with a pink-peach gradient. Have you ever gone through a red light? I think I MIGHT have accidentally because I was zoned out, but I don't THINK so. Do you fail to stop for stop signs, sometimes? I can't recall if I ever have. What is one of your major turn-offs? Misogyny. The moment you act like you exceed my worth just because you have a dick, byyyyyeeee~ During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? 2016 was hell on Earth for me. Have you ever seen a blue jay in person? I have. Do you like leaves better in the summer/spring, or in the fall? I'd like to meet someone that actually chooses anything besides fall, lol. Do you like the appearance of green eyes? YES! Do you typically like green-colored candies? Yessss. It's not rare for them to be my favorite flavor of whatever the thing is. Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? My nephew, omg. Have you ever encountered a black widow? I actually have seen at least one to my memory. They're native here. Has an animal ever peed on you? Yes. Do you prefer green or purple/red grapes? I enjoy both, but I prefer green IF they're actually firm. What color is your birthstone? Purple. Why did you leave your house last? To go to the TMS office. I have to go there every day (but the weekends) for two months for treatment now. Is anything on your body sore? Well, inevitably my upper right arm, where my tattoo is. It looks so fucking beautiful redone though, it's all worth it. :') Have you ever eaten a cookie cake before? If so, was it good? Hell yeah man, cookie cakes are great. Do you lose interest in someone easily? I'm quite the opposite. Who was the last person you flirted with? Sara. Do you still talk to the person you fell the hardest for? No. Who’s the last person that slept over your house? My sister and her husband. Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Yes. Are you currently sad about anything? I mean, I always am about something. How would you feel if your last ex fell in love with someone else? I would be super happy for her. Who was the last person who left your life and hurt you? Colleen. Do you know anyone who died of breast cancer? I might know of somebody, but all I know personally are survivors. Do you miss any of your old friends? Well of course. Have you ever been used before? I don't know. Ever taken a picture kissing someone? Yes. What’s the last thing you and your sibling laughed about? I Don't know. I haven't seen either in some time. What’s the last thing you took a picture of? A meme to send Sara, haha. Do you listen to classical music? No. Do you tell your parents who you like? Why or why not? I mean, I don't just randomly bring it up because just being like "hey I like this person _____ now" seems weird. Now if I was asked or mentioning it is somehow relevant, then I will. Who’s the most annoying person in your neighborhood? The damn dog next door who never shuts up. Name one of your psycho exes? None. I was the "psycho ex," and it's embarrassing as shit. Do you make your own clothes and/or add designs to them on your own? No. Do you ever feel guilty eating meat? It's not something I always actively think about, but subconsciously, I absolutely always do. Especially knowing my family doesn't buy from "ethical" markets, but instead big ones. "Ethical" in quotations because there is no moral way to slaughter an animal for food, but at least there are smaller farmers who can give their livestock a better, cleaner, happier life. What are you listening to at the moment? I'm semi-watching Gab play Bioshock. I'd never seen the game before, so just kinda vicariously checking it out. Seems all right. Does anything hurt right now? My tattoo is definitely in the sore phase. It'll start scabbing soon. I literally can't stop looking at it, I love it so much. How many years have you lived at the house you’re living in right now? Around 1 1/2. Have you ever lived in a different country that the one you’re living in? No. Which of your parents will you see next? I live with my mom and rarely see my dad, so. Do you like Chinese food? Only pork fried rice and egg rolls, really. What sort of music were you brought up on? When all of us kids were very little, Mom would usually play her rock channels on the radio, sometimes a (clean) CD. She also would ensure to play kids' cassettes sometimes, too, like Raffy or whoever it was. Once Ashley reached a certain age, she would always ask for a pop channel to be put on, so most of my childhood was that and some country music, too.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''castle of glass'' by linkin park

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mandadoration · 4 years

Text

skip tracer

Summary: anon asked: “ummmm can we get back to mando!reader and bounty!din because idk maybe the ship breaks down and you’re stuck together until someone comes and gets you and the two of you grow close and he tries to you almost let him take your helmet off”

word count: 4, 642

pairing: bounty!din djarin x mandalorian!reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension, making up mechanical jargon

a/n: Changed the wording a little, but essentially the same idea. “Mando”, in this fic, is referring to the reader. There’s a bunch of small time skips (moments later to several hours) because I’m sure you would appreciate it all at once instead of multiple chapters, but also for my sanity.

Another important note the Din is younger than he is in the series, just because there are a lot of really important things that happen in the canon that I don’t want to just… skip over? (Baby Yoda, Moff Gideon, etc.) I haven’t decided on a particular age, but it’s not too drastic.

Read this on AO3

The first words you say to Din Djarin are, “Shit.”

If it weren’t for the fact that you were trying to get the ship’s repulsors back online, you would’ve seen how his eyebrows shoot up, disappearing under the mess of greasy curls at your expletive. He leans forward in his seat a little, cuffs clanking as he tries to peer over your beskar-clad shoulder at the console beeping angrily at you. There’s a fuel leak or wiring problem or something because you’re watching the power drain rapidly right in front of your eyes. You try to stop whatever the massive drain is or turn off non-essentials and reroute the power to your engine, but nothing works and all that does happen is a massive shuddering throughout the entire ship. Your ancient, pre-Imperial gunship, the Skip Tracer, sputters and soon, the entire ship goes dark.

The second words you say to Din Djarin are, “Fuck.”

Luckily, the backup generators kick in, bathing the entire ship in low, orange light and making sure you don’t suffocate to death in the cold recesses of space. You sit there for a moment, staring blankly out the windows of your ship at the stars in the distance, and realize that you’re essentially stuck here unless a stray ship flies by and takes pity on you.

Yeah, like would happen.

Your bounty’s dry voice interrupts your internal monologue. “This happen often?” he asks. His voice is much too close for your tastes, so you stand up abruptly and push him back into your seat, scowling under your helmet at his smug face. He doesn’t look fazed at your harsh treatment, and his gaze follows you as head over to the mainframe to run a diagnostics check. “All I’m saying is, why do you fly this piece of junk when you’re the fabled ‘Mandalorian’?” Din continues, making air quotes to the best of his ability with his hands bound. His tone is disdainful. “Maker knows those Imps pay you enough…” Your hand hovers over the screen.

“I don’t work for them,” you say stiffly.

“But you do business with them,” Din points out. You press a few buttons with more force than necessary and turn back to face him while your system runs a full ship scan. He’s sitting languidly in his seat, as if he owns the place, and stares straight at you. If he’s surprised you’re finally entertaining his small talk, he doesn’t show it. “You’re bringing me in, aren’t you?” You tilt your head as you consider the implication of his question.

“It doesn’t matter who called you in. I’m just--”

“--doing your job,” Din finishes. A bored look flits across his face and smothers the hard set lines of his face as he motions around the Skip Tracer. “You can hardly do that if your ship doesn’t work now, hm?” You roll your eyes and resist the urge to gag him. The mainframe beeps behind you to indicate that the scan was done. You give him the best warning glare you can with a helmet over your head, and turn back to read the report.

The hyperdrive had drained a massive amount of power from your ship during your last jump, resulting in it overheating and affecting the surrounding parts as your coolants worked overtime to try and get it under control, but you don’t remember the last time you had taken a look at that particular mechanism, meaning that there was only more overheating and possible melting and fraying of the internal wiring. As your ship tried its best to repair what it could, it had only drained the remainder of the power. You didn’t have any spare jumper cells either.

In summary: not good.

You heave out an annoyed sigh before plopping back in your seat and trying to get your comms working. It takes some time, and you end up having to pull the heating down a little to even turn them on. The best you can do is send a weak, short-range emergency call.

“What now?” Din asks. Despite him trying to appear standoffish and generally seem like a prick, you can pick out the uncertainty in his voice. No one in the galaxy wants to be stuck in the cold recesses space, especially with an unsavory companion. You settle in your seat and swivel your chair to face him.

“Now we wait.”

At some point you had fallen asleep in your chair while you were patiently watching your bounty, but you peel open your eyes when you hear a quiet shuffling of clothes and the quiet thump of heavy boots. A quick glance at the time shows that nearly an hour has passed since the ship lost power.

“What are you doing?”

Din nearly jumps out of his skin, halfway to the door with wide eyes and a hand raised towards the controls. You haven’t noticed until now, but without his weapons, Din really looks like any other human you might see in the galaxy. His cinnegar weave armor has been dyed a dark brown and covered with a jacket to be more discreet, and the tan collar of his shirt peeks out of his scarf. He hardly looks like he’s worth the price on his head.

You don’t do anything, merely watching how his throat bobs when he tries to think of something to say. He smoothly slides on a mask of indifference that almost impresses you as he straightens up. “Looking around,” he answers. In the dim lighting, you can barely pick up how his ears turn red at the tips.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. You fix him with a hard stare. “I’ll ask you again, and don’t even think about lying: What are you doing?” An almost pained expression crosses Din’s face before disappearing again. A moment. He mumbles something. “What?” Din looks annoyed. Then a little louder, he mumbles--

“I need to use the refresher.” Immediately, his stomach grumbles. “And I’m hungry,” he sighs. You’re glad he can’t see the amused expression under your helm because you’re sure he would’ve said something snarky about it.

“What were you going to do about that?” Sure, you might be riling up Din, but with the undetermined amount of time you were going to stay with him, you might as well get some entertainment.

“I was going to leave.”

“Doors are locked.”

“I would’ve found a way.”

“You don’t know where the food is stashed. Or if I even have any.”

“Would’ve looked. I would assume you eat as well.”

“Did you expect me to stay asleep?”

“Didn’t hurt to try.”

“How do I know you wouldn’t have tried to find a weapon to kill me?”

“You don’t.”

He says his last answer so smoothly and without hesitation that it catches you so off-guard you can’t help the short laugh that escapes you. You shake your head as you stand up, and although Din leans away, you press a button on your vambrace and the door wooshes open. You motion for him to go. “Bounties first.” Din rolls his eyes and turns to head down the ladder. It’s awkward with his hands bound, but he makes it in due time and watches you warily as you climb down as well. “I’ll make something for us to eat. Use the ‘fresher in the meantime.” He raises a brow, but an easy smile graces his lips.

“I’m surprised you’re even offering me food,” he snorts. You shrug.

“Don’t know how long we’ll be out here. You’re worth more money alive,” you reason. “Can’t have you starving.” At the mention of what he’s actually here for, Din’s face falls. He clears his throat.

“Right,” he says. And turns into the cramped refresher and closes the door without saying anything else. While he does that, you dig through your compartments for rations. Without adequate power, you can’t reheat your food, and you don’t want to risk trying to reroute power in case the air recycler cuts off. Hopefully, Din likes shredded bantha meat and Meilroonian pepper sauce. You shake your head. Not that it should matter. He should be grateful you’re feeding him at all. Whether or not he’s picky bears to significance to you.

As you contemplate how he still will undoubtedly complain about the lack of choices, a loud racket sounds from the refresher followed by a loud swear. You toss the ration packets onto a nearby table and huff as you rip open the door to the refresher. Din lets out a loud sound of protest at that, trying to scramble to pull his pants back up over his hips, but steps on a stray bottle in his panic and starts tipping backwards. You grab the collar of his shirt to prevent him from cracking his head on the rim of the vactube. He stares at you with wide eyes before clearing his throat.

“You ever hear of knocking?” he asks. You haul him up to his feet, but don’t step back as you look at the mess he made in your refresher. A couple of things that were on your sink and shelves, admitted haphazardly, were knocked over and the sonic shower door was open. From how close you are, you can tell Din is struggling to find your eyes, gaze roaming over your face to try and pinpoint them.

“You ever hear of not making a mess?” you shoot back.

“Hard to do that when your hands are bound,” Din says, shaking his cuffs for emphasis.

“Could’ve asked.”

“Would you have?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you-- Nevermind.” Din breaks his gaze from you to stare at his shoes. You tilt your helmet, but press a button on your vambraces and the cuffs fall off. His head shoots up with a questioning look.

“I imagine you were going to complain about eating with your hands bound, too,” you say dryly. You step away from him and pick up the cuffs. “Clean up your mess,” you order him. Din doesn’t look happy, but eventually nods. “And pull up your pants.”

He definitely doesn’t look happy at that.

---

You had retreated into the cockpit to eat your meal with a warning to Din that you will not hesitate to kill him if he tried anything while he was unsupervised; you had left before he can hit you with another sarcastic comment. You made quick work of eating, keeping an ear out for any suspicious sounds, but found none and soon went back down to the hull only to see Din Djarin sitting on the floor and picking at his food with a displeased face. “This is disgusting,” he announces.

“How did I know you were going to say that?” you sigh. You wish you could run a hand over your face, but resort to leaning against the wall with your arms crossed. It was pretty gross, you won’t lie. The sauce was a cold, congealed mess, and the bantha meat was horribly tough. “It’s that or nothing.” He looks like he desperately wants to say something, but eventually spoons another bite into his mouth.

“Any updates?” he asks. You shake your head.

“No. Was going to check if I can somehow figure out what was draining the power. See if that fixes the problem,” you say. He makes a small hum of acknowledgement. Then, a pensive expression crosses his face. Din chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“Mando?”

“Hm?”

“Is it true that Mandalorians can’t take off their helmets?” he asks.

“We can. Just not in front of other people,” you answer almost automatically. It’s a question you often get.

“How much are you getting paid to bring me in?” You look at him. Not the smoothest segway in the galaxy.

“I don’t bargain with bounties, if that’s you’re wondering,” you say instead. Din curls his lips and pushes the food around with his fork.

“Wasn’t going to bargain,” he mumbles, “just wondering.” He stabs his food aggressively. The frown sours his face. “Wouldn’t expect an Imperial sympathizer to bargain anyways,” he says bitterly. You clench your fists, the leather of your gloves creaking, as you stand up straight. Din doesn’t look up from his food, but you can tell he knows that your temper is rising from how he grips his ration packet a little tighter.

“Told you before,” you grit out, and you’re glad the modulator hides how your voice trembles the slightest, “I’m just doing my job.” Din jumps up and throws his food down, splattering cold Meilroonian pepper sauce over the floor of the Skip Tracer as his eyes flash in anger.

“And by doing so, you're just as bad as them!” he protests. He pushes his curls back with a gloved hand frustratedly. “I was doing something, trying to take them down, and you’re practically delivering me to them on a silver platter!” Din stomps up to you until you’re nearly chest to chest. From here, you can see the scars adorning his face, including one that splits his right eyebrow neatly in half. “I thought Mandalorians were supposed to be good,” he hisses. “But instead I see that the little creed you follow has changed.”

“And what do you know about Mandalorians?” you snarl at him. You move forward and force him to take a step back. “Hm? Din Djarin?” You practically spit his name. How dare he question the Way of the Mandalore. “What does a mercenary know about Mandalorians?” His angry expression falters, but he stays silent. “Tell me.” Nothing. His mouth is set in a hard, straight line. “All you are is a glorified rebel, thinking that you can take down a hundred people when all you are is a nuisance, a pain in their ass.” Din’s back hits the opposite wall where you’ve practically cornered him, defiance burning bright in his eyes next to a hint of fear. In the back of your mind, you know that’s not true, that Din Djarin was a hated name within the small circles of Imperials, but he seems to curl within himself when you demean him. Your shoulders fall as you force in a deep breath, and you push the heavy metal cuffs into his hands. You’ve hit a sore spot. “Clean up your mess,” you order in a low voice, the second time today, “and cuff yourself. I’m done entertaining you for the night.”

Then you head up the ladder to the cockpit. Halfway up, you look at him over your shoulder. “There’s a cot over there. Try anything and I’ll find a way to put you in carbonite.” Your threat holds well because Din Djarin doesn’t say another thing, instead scowling at you as he stays rooted in place.

---

Sleep is fitful for you that night, and it doesn’t help that you keep your helmet on just in case Din does try something. Even after all these years it’s awkward to lay down with it on. Waking up isn’t much better, seeing as you only got in a few hours, but you flush with hot anger when last night’s conversation pops up again. You instead decide to busy yourself with fiddling with the console.

You try to extend the range of the emergency signal, but nothing happens and the console beeps sadly at you. You really hope someone drifts by. Honestly, you’re not sure how many rations or how much water you have left, but you do know you certainly don’t have enough to sustain two adults for long. If it comes down to it, you’ll have to try and directly look into the mechanics of your ship. You really don’t want to do that seeing as one wrong move and you’ll be sent into the cold vacuum of space before you can think twice. Despite having the Skip Tracer for a while, you don’t know much about it. The first thing you would do after collecting Din’s bounty is dropping your ship off at a mechanic and sticking around to figure out more about it. You falter.

You don’t know why, but the reminder that all Din is is a bounty fills you with some upset despite his scathing remarks. His witty and spitfire attitude was certainly a nice change of pace from the blubbering, begging bounties or the overly-aggressive ones that literally spit at you. But you desperately need the few ingots of beskar promised to you, and with how the ship was malfunctioning, those credits are sorely needed as well. You just need to remind yourself that Din Djarin was just another paycheck.

Speaking of, you can hear him climbing up the ladder to the cockpit, and you try to busy yourself. The door opens, but you don’t say anything, pressing a few nonsense buttons. Seems like he couldn’t sleep either. Din hovers somewhere behind you, and in the faint reflection of him in the window, you can see he looks unsure of himself. He wants to say something. You let him flounder. Eventually he gathers the courage to say whatever is on his mind.

“The Death Watch.”

You suppress the urge to spin around, instead tilting your head for him to elaborate.

“I… I knew the Death Watch.” You rest your hands on the console board, minding any switches that may drain more power.

“The Death Watch disbanded years ago. You would’ve been a child if you knew them,” you finally say, keeping your voice as toneless as possible. You were a child when you knew them. But they were no more, split apart and forced underground to continue your way of living.

“I was a child,” he says. “They helped my village a long time ago.” You wonder for a brief moment if there was a possibility you knew him, even through a few degrees of separation, but you stamp that thought out. There was no time to form attachments or even entertain that thought. “So what do I know about them? That much.” His voice is thought, but can hear an edge of challenge. “You guys were… I looked up to the Mandalorians.” You clench your jaw.

“What changed?”

“You.” You laugh bitterly as you finally turn your seat around to face Din where he stands in the doorway, cuffs obediently on his wrists.

“Sorry for ruining that for you,” you say, so very ingenuously and not at all sorry. You tap your fingers impatiently against your knee. “Did you need something or are you just here to try and make me feel guilty?” Your head hurts just watching how hard Din rolls his eyes.

“I’m here because I’m hungry,” he says bluntly. You can tell from his tone that this isn’t really the case, but you’re glad for the change in subject. You aren’t exactly the best conversationalist, and neither of you want to argue again it seems like. “And I believe that you’ll carry out your threat if I start snooping around so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “here I am.” You look at him for a little bit, just enough to make him shift where he stands and look uncomfortable. “What?”

“You would be very bad at sabacc,” you note mildly, ignoring his offended expression as you get up and brush past him to get to the hull to scavenge for something that could be palatable cold.

“You’ve never seen me play,” Din protests as he scrambles after you down the ladder. You nearly laugh at the indignation in his voice. “So how can you--” His foot slips off the rung, and with his limited movement, he fails to try and catch himself, grip slipping in surprise as he gasps. Luckily, you’re there at the bottom to catch him, hooking your arms under his knees and beneath his shoulders with a soft grunt.

“Don’t need to,” you say. You lean in a little closer, tilting your head down to make it obvious you were looking straight at him. “You are very easy to read.” He scowls up at you, but you see how his ears turn red. Din is a comfortable weight in your arms, and you think for a second he looks surprised you don’t even look like you’re straining to hold him up.

“Put me down.”

“Okay.”

And you drop him. He blinks up at you with a grimace from where he is on the floor. But Din Djarin cannot stop surprising you because he breaks out in a bright, charming laugh, smile lines forming and crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, pulling at the scars on his face, and the warm sound of it fills the ship. It’s a striking difference from the mood just minutes prior, and definitely a difference from a couple hours ago. You can’t help it, but you laugh as well. You gently poke him with the tip of your boot before turning around to pull out rations.

“Please tell me it isn’t whatever we had yesterday,” Din says from the floor. You toss the packet over to him, landing square on his chest.

“It’s not. But I doubt it’s much better,” you admit. “Now get up so I can go eat.”

You’re already in the cockpit and locking the doors behind you when Din calls up to complain that you haven’t unlocked his cuffs. It’s a conscious choice to ignore him.

---

It’s been 0900 standard hours since your ship broke down in space somewhere in the Mid Rim, and Din Djarin is starting to go a little stir crazy.

“Will you stop pacing?” you ask him, annoyed. After your meal, you had stayed up in the cockpit thinking about whether or not you should charge Greef Karga extra to cover the cost of repairs and emotional labor of being trapped with your bounty. Din had quickly grown bored waiting in the hull and made his way into the upper level, knocking incessantly and asking you to open the doors. After a few minutes, you had grown tired of it and opened the doors without warning, resulting in him literally falling in. He seemed to do that a lot, and you wonder how he went this long without somehow falling into a hole or off a cliff and killing himself in the process.

But Din doesn’t stop pacing, instead he speeds up. Because of the small space, it’s comical how often he has to turn around on his heel to walk in the other direction. The length of his stride means that he only gets a few steps in every rotation. “Has no one picked up our signal?” he asks. You sigh.

“No. And sit down.” You’re surprised Din hasn’t made himself dizzy.

“Have you tried--”

“Anything you’re about to say, yes,” you interrupt. You’ve tried every possible thing to try and extend the signal or just get transmissions going besides actually opening up the ship from the inside. You aren’t that desperate yet. “Din. Sit down.” He, unsurprisingly, doesn’t stop.

“How long do you think we can stay out here?” You roll your eyes. “Supplies only last so long, and I don’t even know how long the backup power supply will last.” Maker, he’s really working himself up, isn’t he?

“If we have to worry about supplies, I’ll just put you in carbonite to save us the trouble,” you say bluntly.

“If you even have the power for it!”

“I told you, I’ll find a way. Now. Sit. Down.”

He opens his mouth to say something probably infuriating again, but before he can, you reach forward and grab him by the front of his belt and haul him into your lap. His teeth clack together as he audibly closes his mouth, a flush overtaking his face. Din tries to lean back as far away as he can, but you keep your hands firm on his waist, meaning he has to hold onto the front of your beskar chestplate to keep from falling backwards. It’s a tight fit seeing as you take up most of the seat and Din is by no means a small man, but you look up at him. “People travel all the time through the Mid Rim,” you say slowly, trying to put as much calm as you can knowing that a lot of it will be lost in the modulator. Hopefully it doesn’t come across as condescending. “Someone will eventually notice that the ship is just drifting here or pick up the signal any time now.” He’s still tense, shoulders nearly at his ears as he stares at you with wide eyes. You reach around his waist to press a button on your vambraces to unlock the cuffs, and you slide it off his wrists and drop it on the floor. His hands immediately go to your shoulders, but he does seem to settle down a little. “So relax.” Din’s grip on your shoulder tighten a fraction.

“Hard to do that when I-I’m in your lap,” he chokes out. If only he can see your grin. Instead, you bring him closer to you, taking delight in the small squeak he gives.

“You complaining?” If anything, Din blushes impossibly brighter.

“I--”

“Shh, you hear that?” He obediently shuts his mouth and listens for a moment.

“No?” You lean back in your chair.

“Exactly. Blessed silence.” Din scrunches up his face.

“You’re… insufferable,” he announces. You shrug.

“I know.”

And now the conversation has lulled, but Din Djarin makes no move to get off your lap. The beskar thigh plates are digging into you, and it surely can’t be a comfortable seat. Still, the two of you stay where you are. Din licks his lips. “You said that you can’t take off your helmet, right?”

“Not in front of another living being,” you say.

“When’s the last time anyone saw your face?” he asks. “Has- has anyone seen your face?” There’s an undercurrent of uncharacteristic shyness, almost anxiety as he asks you. You pause. You really shouldn’t entertain your bounty, but--

“Not since I was a child.” He frowns. “I wasn’t born with a helmet on, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you add.

“Sounds… lonely,” he says slowly. You shrug.

“This is the Way.” Why was he even asking about this? If he knew the Death Watch, then surely he must’ve been somewhat familiar with the Ways of the Mandalore. He even had the nerve to chastise you about it. You don’t have to ask him because now his warm hands are trailing from your shoulders closer to your neck, eventually coming to a pause right on the underside of your helmet. It’s a slow, deliberate movement, and Din’s face is the softest you’ve ever seen it. He starts to push it up.

But your hands leave his hips and snatch his wrists to stop him just as the console beeps.

“Skip Tracer, this is the Andaloriaan Sea. We read your distress call,” comes the horrifically crackly and barely understandable voice. “Locking you in and taking you to the closest star port. Standby.” You gently pull his hands down, and Din slides off your lap as an unreadable mask slides on his face to hide whatever he’s feeling. He stands in the doorway for a moment, but ultimately turns back around and heads down to the hull without a word. You start to formulate your next plan of action. You would cuff him and keep a close watch on him while the mechanics work on your ship, then fly back to Nevarro to turn Din Djarin in, tell Greef Karga you expect extra for travel fees and repairs, collect your payment, then move on to the next bounty, the next paycheck. You would forget the nearly 1000 standard hours you spent trapped in space with him.

But things never really go exactly according to plan.

---

a/n: More stupidly strong readers >:) bc reader is definitely the top in this relationship.

Fun fact! The Andaloriaan Sea is what I was going to initially name Reader’s ship before I changed it to Skip Tracer.

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail

#mandalorian reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #din djarin reader #din djarin x reader #my writing #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mandalorian imagine #bounty au #fic: skip tracer

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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Ironwood tucked tail and ran, he didn't actually consider his options he reacted with paranoia and literally did the thing the villains (Watts) told him to his face was the thing they wanted him to do. Ironwood neglected Mantle for ages, like seriously he was going to tell everyone while Mantle had a huge hole in its wall. And no he wasn't doing everything possible the whole season was all about how he was sacrificing Mantle's safety for his own end.

There are a lot of different points here so I’m going to break things up:

“[Ironwood] didn’t actually consider his options” except he did. We had an entire, if heated, conversation about it. Is Amity ready? No. So can we use it? No. Are we in any state to keep fighting? No. Has the perimeter been taken out? Potentially. Is Salem approaching? Likely. They ran through a number of different factors and came out with two options: leave now or hold their ground. Based on what they know, Option Two is a death sentence and when no one was able to come up with an Option Three that combined saving Mantle with keeping the rest of the populace alive + keeping relics/a Maiden out of Salem’s hands, Ironwood went with Option One. People also have to remember that from their perspective she could be here any second. This is the opposite of Volume 6 where the group actually had time to come up with various options and chose not to. Here, they can’t afford to spends hours or days trying to come up with additional solutions when Salem may be on their doorstep in a matter of minutes.

“literally did the thing the villains... wanted him to do” yeah, he did, but again... what’s Option Three? What’s the solution where Ironwood keeps people safe without creating a single bit of division among them? Right now it doesn’t exist. Just because the hero ends up doing what the villain wanted doesn’t mean that decision wasn’t logical or justified. It doesn’t mean they had another way out. It just means that the villain did their job and crafted a scenario where the hero is screwed no matter what they choose.That’s what makes Salem so hard to beat. It’s akin to a trick. She crafts plans wherein even the best solutions have horrific consequences attached, but that’s not Ironwood’s fault. This is gonna sound weird, but I’ve had that Matrix scene stuck in my head the last few days. Neo is offered a red pill and a blue pill and told to choose, now. The fandom’s response to Ironwood’s dilemma is akin to going, “I can’t believe Neo didn’t take the time he wasn’t offered to choose the green pill instead.” That green pill... doesn’t exist... Not yet anyway.

“Ironwood neglected Mantle for ages” again, building Amity necessitated that neglect. We can argue that Ironwood never should have built Amity in the first place then---letting Mantle have their resources is more important than building a communications tower/thinking you can defeat Salem---but the fandom and the RWBYJNR team don’t get to have both. We can’t demand that Ironwood finish this project and then drag him for doing what’s necessary to achieve that. Amity was not “for his own end.” Nor were things like the military presence. We can argue the ethics of whether it’s ever appropriate to keep soldiers around town, but the intent has always been to keep the people safe. And given how many times grimm broke through the walls this volume? Those soldiers probably saved a lot of lives. If we’re truly going to criticize Ironwood for his treatment of Mantle than we likewise need to criticize the group for staying on his back about Amity. It’s because they allowed him to think that this was a way to defeat Salem for so long and pushed him to get it done that the mistreatment of Mantle continued. How do you keep Ironwood from taking resources from the people? Idk, maybe tell him that the thing he wants the resources for won’t actually save the world like he thinks it will...

“like seriously he was going to tell everyone while Mantle had a huge hole in its wall” 100% agree there. I think it was stupid af to tell the people about Salem at all, let alone during a grimm attack. But remember that our heroes were very pleased with that development. That’s the one thing Ironwood has been praised for. Again, if we’re going to criticize him for that then Ruby likewise deserves criticism for pushing him towards telling others about Salem and then giving her little, “He’s doing it.” As I’ve mentioned the last two volumes, my primary issue with the writing is not that the characters make mistakes, but rather the hypocrisy that occurs when that happens. Team RWBY is continually let off the hook by both the writing and the fandom despite the fact that their actions contributed immensely to all of Ironwood’s mistakes. Their mistakes are just as much at the center of all this, but no one wants to acknowledge how keeping that secret forced Ironwood to work under hugely false information. Even though we just got a whole volumes articulating how horrific that sort of manipulation was for Team RWBY under Ozpin. Their choice to repeat Ozpin’s actions had far more devastating circumstances, namely hurting Mantle in the name of a plan they knew was doomed from that start. RWBYJNR could have spared Mantle at any time.

“...Ironwood’s plan sucks” yeah, it has a million holes in it, but again, does anyone have a better plan? If Salem’s flying grimm army is such a threat to a hypothetically sky-high Atlas, why aren’t people acknowledging what a threat those + grounded grimm are to an Atlas that sticks around beside Mantle? To be blunt, there are way bigger priorities here. No one should be asking, “But what will we do about food days/weeks from now?” when Salem is theoretically coming to kill them in the next hour. How about we survive the immediate threat first. If we’re all alive to worry about food later that will be a miracle.

“take apart a military vehicle or two and used the material to fix Mantle’s wall” maybe he could have. We as the audience have no idea what exactly these “resources” are and how they might be replaced, but if we’re really going to nit-pick like that... why didn’t anyone else? Why didn’t Team RWBY suggest that instead of just yelling at Ironwood to fix everything himself? Why didn’t Robyn do that instead of stealing the materials on their way to Amity? Everyone keeps insisting that Ironwood isn’t united with the others, but it’s everyone else who insists that he fix everything himself while simultaneously betraying, lying, criticizing, and undermining him along the way. I likewise don’t buy the “Ironwood is the adult and he’s responsible for Team RWBY” argument I’ve seen floating around because that’s by the same group who was going, “Team RWBY are adults now Ozpin and Qrow need to trust them more” last volume. They have their licenses. They’re working with a military inner circle. They, as I’ve said before, don’t get to flip-flop between vulnerable children and responsible adults as they please. If the group is mature enough to fight this war at Ironwood’s side then they’re mature enough to go, “Hey, how about the eight of us try to think up ways to help instead of just yelling that we don’t like what Ironwood, as just one very stressed person, has managed to come up with?”

“maybe he could have updated Mantle’s security” again, we don’t know what Ironwood might or might not have done after the Fall of Beacon in terms of updates. All we do know is that he didn’t have the one crucial piece of information that made Mantle’s security seem vulnerable: Watts is alive. Ironwood only found that out after Watts had already taken over.

“Maybe he could have told the council and worked with his own government” sorry but this argument always makes my brain go “????” The only thing we know about this council is that they were fully backing Jacques at the meeting, which is not a good indicator of how trustworthy they were pre-his arrest. If we’re praising Team RWBY for not trusting Ironwood---someone who has been fighting Salem for years and who immediately shared his own secrets---why in the world would we expect Ironwood to trust two lackeys of Jacques Schnee? One of these options seemed a whole lot less trustworthy than the other. And I guarantee you that if we had gotten a story where Ironwood brought in the council and then we learned they had been working closely with Jacques? People would criticize him for that too. “Maybe he could have kept things quiet like Team RWBY did and not give information to a corrupt government.” It’s a lose-lose, apparently.

“did what the kids wanted and it WORKED” literally only because the plot went wonky to accommodate them. No one freaking out, no one angry anymore, everyone coming together to sing the Remnant equivalent of Kumbaya... I’m by no means against hopeful results superseding “realistic” ones, but this was a seriously extreme example of the plot accommodating the group’s preferences. In the same way it accommodated them in Argus. It’s a deliberate choice not to have there be any repercussions to starting huge grimm battles ,or telling an angry mob about the sorceress sociopath out to kill them all, and RT grabbed hold of that choice by both hands. It’s hard to argue who is really “right” or “wrong” when the narrative itself makes sure that only one party’s actions ever have bad outcomes whereas the others always come out rosy. It has been a rigged system the last two volumes. Team RWBY’s choices are always “right” not because they’re justified, but because the writing ensures that nothing bad ever happens as a result. Even when logic dictates that it should.

“idk maybe tell them to fight on their own they can” this would be a good option if the group were actually interested in just defending Mantle. But they’re not, their goal is to stop Ironwood from leaving Mantle behind. We get that moment where the whole team stands in front of him in a semi-circle, making it clear that if he wants to enact his plan, he’ll have to go through them first. It’s not a, “You do your thing and we’ll do ours” situation, it’s a “We’re not going to allow you to do your own thing.” So Ironwood responds to that with, “Fine. You’re forcing me to move you? You’re under arrest.”

“maybe see about getting their system back up” Watts had complete control over the system. The conversation at the dinner made it clear that everyone was locked out: Ironwood, the council, even Jacques himself. And I doubt Watts, wherever he is now, is just going to hand that control back because Ironwood asked. Which again, comes back to time. Do they have time to interrogate Watts? No. Do they have time to sit other tech experts down and try to get them to reclaim the system? No. People keep insisting that these are all options that Ironwood willfully ignores, but every one of them results in the same thing: Atlas twiddling its thumbs as Salem slams in with her grimm army. This would be a very different situation if she were days out and they had some time to try these things, but the setup is very much, “If she’s coming she’s going to be here in no time at all. Whatever we’re doing, we have to do it right now.” Long-term “options” of these sort simply aren’t on the table. Telling someone to take the hour-long “option” when you literally have five minutes is just illogical. Rejecting that doesn’t make you a bad person, it makes you the one person thinking the situation through. As I’ve said before, Ironwood and the Ace Ops are the only ones weighing these issues in a “Is this actually possible? manner. Team RWBY is riding purely on confidence and hope.

“there’s no proof Salem is coming” you’re right, there isn’t. We only have her promise and the silent perimeter, so no, that’s not proof. ... but are you really willing to risk that? I sure as hell wouldn’t be. There’s no way I would trust that many lives to “Well, she might be pulling our leg.” Calling her bluff is a BEYOND risky choice and the only reason the fandom thinks it’s such a good option is because we’re looking at this from a storytelling perspective. We know it’s unlikely that the group will face off against Salem before the final volume. We know it’s unlikely that Salem would start attacking the world in earnest because she’s so damn powerful that this would wipe everyone out in a mater of weeks and then, you know, there’s no story anymore. As characters in this world they have no reason to believe that Salem would lie about coming, especially after Watts, Tyrian, the chess piece, the perimeter... Salem has clearly been setting up something, but Ironwood should just ignore all that to call a hypothetical bluff, risking every single person in the process? That goes so beyond endangerment I’m not even sure what to call it. That would be the action of someone I wouldn’t trust as my leader. Risking the Maiden, two relics, and the lives of an entire kingdom on an entirely unfounded hunch. That’s straight up insanity and if Ironwood had done that I would have hoped the Ace Ops would revolt. You’re clearly unfit to serve, sir, if you’re going to risk all our lives---the entire world even---on a theory that has 4 points against it and 0 in favor.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #mymetas #Anonymous

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masterhandss · 4 years

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I wanna know more about the guys. Don't get me wrong I like that the anime focuses a lot on the girls. But the guys who are ironically te main LI's in game are just kinda dragged around for harem purposes. We don't know anything about things that are actually unique to them their hobbies,interests(save for Alan and his music but that's about it,it seems) We know that Mary has her gardening, Sophia loves literature and romance novels, Maria has baking,Katarina agriculture and a vegetable garden

Hahaha yeah, I kinda get how that feels. When it comes to personal hobbies and interests (likes and dislikes), I guess Alan really takes the cake here on the boys’ side because he has an interest outside of Katarina (Geordo has “interesting things” listed as something he likes, but that just leads us back to Katarina so it doesn’t really count). Though now that you point it out, it is interesting to know that the girls all have interests that are linked to them, but the boys don’t really have any?? kinda??

Alan has his music, but the other three boys are kind of just presented with things related to Katarina (Geordo with his magic and snacks for Katarina, Nicol with the Devilish Count attire and the veggie bundle that Katarina gives him, and Keith with his Earth Dolls, Maria’s handkerchief (which idk why that’s even there) and keys??). I can’t be bothered to find any other merchandise that is presented this way but for all the girls and Alan, it’s pretty consistent.

I don’t really play any otome games (I’d love to though) so I’m not sure how far they go when it comes to developing the love interests, but since hamefura is about Sorcie being beyond an otome game, it does feel rather lacking that we don’t have much about the boys. The focus is put so much into the boy’s interest in Katarina that they don’t have too much outside of their backstory, personality and magic type.

Volume 5 does inform us that Keith likes studying magic and Nicol likes relaxing times, but to some extent you can still trace that back to Katarina (Relaxing times, since Nicol is most relaxed around people that he doesn’t need to please and aren’t interacting with him with ulterior motives; and Studying magic so he can control it and not hurt anyone). Geordo doesn’t even really gain anything new from this information. I feel like Alan was spared of this treatment just because having something that makes him unique compared to his twin brother is important to his character. I don’t want to take away the author’s efforts on providing interests for the boys in this volume, but I do feel bad for people like anon over here who might be looking for things that can relate them to the boys. I guess it’d be hard to connect with the boys if all they care about is Katarina.

Maybe it’s some sort of meta commentary about how the author wants to avoid having us find things that will endear us personally to the boys (aka their interests, personal goals, tastes, etc) by only giving aspects of themselves that can be traced back to Katarina? Because they literally only have eyes for her? I mean the description above does apply to the hamefura boys, not the Fortune Lover boys so hahaha idk. I feel like i’m trying to find an excuse for that mistake/laziness. I doubt my own assumption though, since something like that might ruin the boys’ marketability (or not? I don’t know hahaha)

As much as I’m happy that each girl has an interest that helps define them, the fact that they never get developed beyond that does seem like a bummer. It's hard to praise the girls for their originality when they only have singular interests that differentiates them from the treatment of the boys.

Like Mary, we know she likes gardening flowers, but we don't what kinds she prefers to plant or if she'll plant anything that's available like how Katarina is to her vegetables, or random details like that. We know that Mary’s interests (or likes) are gardening, flowers and romance novels (and Katarina), and her hobby is gardening, but those interests are linked to her hobby (except for books, but we don’t know the extent to which she likes them in the first place), so there’s only so much praise that I can give. She basically doesn’t have much interests outside of her established hobby (it doesnt help when her only labeled dislikes is her sisters).

To be fair, with how the hamefura novels is written, it’s constantly moving forward in some way or another, and there aren’t really many scenes where facts like that can be implied or mentioned. Their feelings for Katarina and for each other are given the biggest priority, rather than how they act and what happens around them (that isn’t magic, politics, or Katarina related). Katarina’s pov just gives us the bare minimum facts about her friends, and she doesn’t seem like she’d narrate anything post-timeskip because she already knows what they like and don’t like by growing up with them, so we don’t get to learn anything unless we’re absorbing it for the first time as she is (she could mention stuff, but there’s also the fact that the light novels seems to be taking the screen time of the original harem bit by bit from each passing volume, according to spoilers i’ve seen, so situations where those can be mentioned as diminishing each volume.)

In some way, I guess the author is giving the fans a chance to interpret his characters through headcanons? I mean it sucks that we aren’t being given anything official, and I wish they could have at least hinted at things through dialogue or observations.

Interpreting things is hard because you can never tell the line between noticing something small or seeing something that isn’t there.

An observation/interpretation, for example: like maybe while Mary likes to read romance novels with Katarina and Sophia, she’s actually not too into them but considers them worth the read-through and mostly reads them in order to relate with her friends, but wont obsessively scream and fangirl about them like her two friends; and Nicol might not like romance books at all and only read them in his childhood when Sophia had no one to talk to about it, and finally got to stop when Katarina came in.

I’m not really the type to think things through when I read/watch things like this so I personally would prefer if they would just tell me these facts. That could just be me though.

The english light novels is only up till Volume 5, with Volume 6 just about to come out in two weeks, so maybe japanese LN readers might know things that I don’t! I’m sorry if my answer is all over the place, I’m not really the most analytical person to ask when it comes to things that might be hidden between lines of text since I usually take things at face value. Thank you for the ask!! :DD

#mh ask #hamefura #hamehura #my next life as a villainess #My Next Life as a Villainess! All Routes Lead to Doom!#destruction flag otome #Otome Game no Hametsu Flag shika Nai Akuyaku Reijou ni Tensei shiteshimatta #bakarina #i feel like i need to rewrite this because my answers seem dumb fdhgdsjfgdsjf

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lichslapartist · 4 years

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Orange is Anger/Revenge (and part of Logan)

I had a weird headcannon... and then this happened. I don’t really believe this theory, but there is a lot of evidence and it’s technically possible... so who knows.

Each of the OG light sides has had a dark side counterpart who was introduced (Patton-Janus, Roman-Remus). Unless Anxiety is Logic’s dark side, which is possible (rational vs irrational, exemplified by the debate episode), I think that Orange will appear to combat Logan

Small sidetrack here, but one thing I’ve always wondered about is that fact that Logan should have little to no emotional expression, due to his functions. However, he seems to show only slightly less than the others, primarily the emotion anger (“flames on the sides of my face”, yelling falsehood, basically any argument with Roman). Even the times where he shows loneliness, it’s often expressed passive aggressively (“...I will spare you my company”).

Logan’s color palette is also very interesting, as he is the only “light” side that has black as a primary part. (I know he was already based on a character from vine and it might not have been chosen with intent, but still). Every “dark” side we’ve seen primarily used black with an accent color, and Virgil as a “reformed” dark side still is very dark.

C!Thomas seems to be an incredibly reactive person, but almost never is that reaction anger (except in SvS-R, and episode where Logan is notably ignored/“optional”). Most times he is just stressed/confused/hurt. I feel like this shows the fact that he’s learned to repress that anger very well.

I personally believe that Logan is the one who has been repressing this anger (at the subconscious will of Thomas). I think it’s possible that the orange side, or OJ, as I’ve seen others refer to him, used to be more active and acted much like current Virgil, using his “negative” emotions to help Thomas and work through things. Anger isn’t necessarily bad, but we’ve seen that Thomas (and Patton) repress things that make them feel like a bad person. I’m wondering if there was possibly some instance that made OJ want to react drastically to that led to his current repression (coming out and angry that the world is not accepting? Argument with someone he cared for? Idk).

The reason I think Logan is repressing him is because logic can almost always be used to overpower “irrational” emotions, and any of the other sides might have been overwhelmed and taken his side. I believe that the opposite of what happened with Roman and Remus happened here, Logan forcing himself to keep OJ down so much that they eventually fused to be come one. Logan now deals with anger constantly, but represses most of it under the surface, while continuing with his normal functions. OJ still has influence in this state, as he hasn’t “ducked out” like Virgil and is still active, just with less influence.

This will come to a head soon (maybe after Roman gets some assistance and Virgil’s “juicy” plot line, maybe before) because of how Logan is being treated by the others. While Thomas did call him cool lately, most of the treatment he’s gotten from the others has been rough. Roman is clearly trying to be nicer, but... he still doesn’t really seem to value him. Everyone ignored him in SvS, and Patton and Roman explicitly ignored him in SvS-R, with that leading to him being taken by Janus (with a cane around the neck, yikes. Painful and humiliating). Even in DWIT, no one really values him until he completely makes his point and proves that he is right. Virgil even says “you can’t Logic your way out of this one”, completely disregarding his purpose and ignoring him, which we all know he hates.

Basically, in my “theory”, he’s going to be more on edge and upset in the next episodes, and depending on whether or not the other sides know about OJ’s predicament, they’ll either gaslight him or walk on eggshells around him. Both would upset him more until he reaches a breaking point (possibly caused by Logan and OJ agreeing that something someone said is both upsetting AND factually inaccurate) leading to a split.

(Unlikely but possible evidence - the 07734 in SvS-R has a blue underneath the orange of the text)

Completely arbitrary speculation time! (As if this hadn’t been already) - Whether or not OJ will become a permanent side depends on what it think his appearance will be like. If this is all true and he is only there temporarily before Logan reabsorbs him (unlikely, but not improbable), I think Logan will gain a white shirt and anger will look very similar to him, maybe with a black shirt and orange bow tie (maybe with a white suit jacket)? If they split permanently, then Logan will probably keep his attire with out any changes, and OJ might have a white shirt to balance him out. I don’t think he will look incredibly evil, maybe more like a sharp business man because of the way anger can be persuasive.

After the split, Logan will probably be out of commission for the rest of the episode (like Roman during DWIT) while OJ makes the others upset. His primary goal would likely be to make everyone as angry as him and prove to Thomas that he shouldn’t be repressed. For maximum fun, maybe he takes them all to one of the rooms? My personal belief is that Logan’s could force them all to speak the factual truth without being able to soften the blow, and OJ’s would likely just increase overall agitation, so either would work.

That’s all, thanks for indulging me.

#logan sanders #orange sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides theory

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jewpacabruhs · 5 years

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bruv im still jus. wow. theres so much to say but. do u kno how good it feels... to be jewish, to accidentally fixate on one eric cartman & love him more than any other fictional character for almost seven years now, and then to see him in a little yarmulke, standing at kyle's side while he recites from the torah? do you know how validating that is?

i gotta get personal for a second here. idk how, but in the last few yrs my relationship with my own jewishness has been deeply influenced and intertwined with south park, as ironic and ridiculous as that sounds. i grew up secular, completely nonpracticing; as a child, i was only ethnically jewish, and saw jews as strictly an ethnicity, and a popularly hated one to boot. and it scared me. ive talked about it before, but as a child hearing about the shoah and about antisemitism, i couldn't understand. i thought it was looks for a while, which confused me, because ive got blonde hair and blue eyes and all my family that got caught up in nazi europe did/do too. i remember thinking as a second grader that i would've been spared for that reason; why didn't a good chunk of my family? but i grew up in a mormon neighborhood, with plenty of other blonde kids, and they stayed away from me like i had a disease. this was before puberty, before my hair got a little frizzier and my nose got a little bigger, when i looked just like any of them. but already, at age 8, i was an outsider. i wasn't one of them and i never would be, and they wanted me to know that.

and then i started to get it. it clicked even more once i got to high school and got called a kike every other day - but prior to high school, you know what i found, and you know what really pushed me towards understanding what being a secular jew in america meant? south park. and as a dumb little sixth grader with no critical thinking skills, you know what shaped my opinions on my own people? south park.

and that's good and bad. good because i do sincerely think kyle broflovski is excellent fictional representation for jewish people, maybe one of the top few ever shown on television. he gets on my nerves at times, but he's good through and through, he's well written and multi-dimensional, he's not a walking stereotype but he still has prominent jewish features that jewish viewers can look at and see in themselves, his morals and viewpoints and beliefs are obviously deeply influenced by judaism, hes deeply proud of his heritage and culture... and that all means a lot to me. and by the amount of jewish sp fans that adore kyle, it means a lot to them too.

the bad thing is, yeah, i can't deny it, during older seasons, cartman's treatment of kyle probably taught a lot of young and dumb viewers how to view jews in real life. have i, as a kyman shipper and cartman stan, justified that within a fictional and narrative context? yes. but it doesn't change the real-world effect; south park, but specifically cartman, since he's the mouthpiece, likely did cause some easily-influenced people to pick up antisemitic beliefs. did this contribute to the rise of the alt-right? debatable, but to some extent, possibly. was that m&t's intention and should south park be canceled and denounced? fuck no, i'll always love it lol, and fuck censorship. but it is something that should be taken into account.

matt and trey clearly regret that, and understand that it's no longer acceptable or fitting or needed in today's sociopolitical climate - or, okay, maybe they don't even regret it; they just understand that when fiction becomes reality, the fictional jackass isn't necessary when there's one right there in real life, sitting in the oval office, yeah? old cartman doesn't deserve or need a voice, not when real, awful people actually have one right now. and m&t are actively trying to change cartman for the better and really, really backpedal on his bigotry, while still doing it in a way that makes sense from a story-telling perspective. it's not a complete uncharacteristic change of character; it's shifting with the times and writing it into the character's arc so that it's a logical and plausible development in cartman's story.

cartman's behavior in the last few seasons is consistent character development. m&t themselves are pushing it, and clearly it's sincere; cartman's not faking. unless they're building up a surprise twist over the last, what, three to four seasons, that he was faking the whole time! woah! if so it better be a damn good pay off, because that's a lot of time invested. though that seems more forward-thinking than sp tends to be. they're intentionally stuck in the short-term, aren't they? plot-wise. but their character development is pretty long-term, and right now, cartman is consistently decent, and if it comes across as faking, it's because cartman's over-dramatic in how he speaks, and trey does that intentionally.

that's a tonal thing, and it's hard to say in a fictional character, but as someone who struggles with empathy myself, empathy and sincerity don't go hand in hand. you can lack empathy while still caring enough to sincerely and wholeheartedly apologize for something and mean that apology. not feeling remorse doesn't mean you can't apologize genuinely; the two don't go hand in hand. you can be mentally ill in any capacity, even a psychopath, and still deeply care about things or people, just not in the way someone else might. so you can headcanon that cartman's still a psycho/sociopath, though right now that's actually kinda going against canon, but don't rain on other's parades if they're happy he's exhibiting healthy growth. besides, and i repeat: what could cartman exploit out of faking sincerity for several seasons? nothing, so why bother? he wouldn't, unless it's literal in-show subconscious growth.

does that mean he's magically developed empathy? no. is it becoming less probable he's a legitimate sociopath/psychopath (while still possibly having better-disguised antisocial tendencies)? yes. does he seem to have better coping or anger management skills? somehow, yes! he seems to be legitimately healthier. does this mean he's no longer accountable for his past misdeeds, and even his present, less-severe ones? of course not! and you can still hate him all you want, but modern cartman is not the same as older cartman, and shouldn't be treated as such. because is this growth? absolutely.

he's clearly healthier, even happier. he's less angry, he's still a little shit but he no longer relies on bigotry or cruelty or anger to get the negative attention he thrives off, rather he gravitates towards being simply annoying. you know why he called ice? pettiness, immaturity, a little bit of spite, and a need for silly revenge. he's being intentionally petty, but going about it in a sly but no longer psychopathic way. less hannibal lector and more, idk, regina george, lol. extremely different on the antagonist scale. and cartman's been both.

and maybe it's personal bias on what type of human is worse within fiction, someone unstable and bizarre with violent tendencies (which is how he's come to be viewed in pop culture & some of the fandom, as a result of eps like scott tenorman must die), versus someone inclined towards pettiness and more silent and, i dunno, social-status-and-pride-driven types of revenge (cartman in general when he's not being particularly awful, tbh)... but i think it'd be pretty universally agreed that the latter is at the very least more tolerable, manageable, and even likeable - and certainly more redeemable. let's put it this way; if cartman continued on the path he was on, he'd be one of those tiki holding fucks, wearing a confederate flag hat, and he'd treat kyle soooo much worse. instead, m&t have turned him into a hypocritical false-woke ignorant dumbass - but that's strongly less problematique than it's counterpart, and it works.

because cartman simply serves a different narrative purpose now. and that's not sloppy writing; it's well-timed evolution of a character that stepped into a pre-9/11, pre-trump, pre-social media world! so much has changed, and south park is reflecting that in its characters, most notably in a character who was stuck in the, what, 1960s with his beliefs? that was fine way back when, but matt&trey are smart dudes - they understand that sometimes things have to change. besides, they love cartman, too. he's their favorite. but they understand that when real people act like him, it's not so comedic or satirical or funny, & they don't want to look at cartman, at their creation who they've invested twenty-two years in, and see the all-too-real hate of modern radical white america.

i think we know enough about matt&trey's social stances these days, and the empathy they've seemed to develop after having kids, to understand that they're no longer in their "apathy is best, everyone is stupid" phase. current south park is left-leaning and admittedly preachy at times, but i wouldn't want it any other way. g-d knows it's better this way than if they'd embraced and decided to appeal to their right-libertarian following instead. cartman's evolved in a progressive and positive way, and it's fucking dope, especially to us cartman stans who so badly want him to be good. and he is good right! he's doing so good!

and i know im up my own ass rn but yall know how much i myself have campaigned for jewish kyman/cartman and how much i just deeply and truly adore it, and to see it actualized in a canon episode to some extent? that meant the world to me. i couldn't believe my eyes. i was tellin lai - that's the most genuine, pure, almost violent happiness ive felt in my soul in years. that was like a straight shot of serotonin to the heart. that simple little scene made me so fucken happy yall dont even know. & theres a lot to be said about the political commentary and plenty of other people are analyzing that, but im a simple jewish kyman & cartman stan and boy ive been fed good fjskfkdkdkfk!!!

#in other news #sickly jew shay had her vision white out at school today and almost fell down the stairs #my grandpa has been given a week to live #AND the anniversary of the most important person in my life's death is approaching #and i turn fucking 19 soon and i always have birthday crisises #so fucken superb!#in happier news family guy airs soon and it's unfortunately still a fixation of mine so im unjustly excited #lissen stewie's worn a yarmulke twice in fg canon and i cried then #i love cartman approximately... 50x more than stewie jus bc of longevity and. nostalgia and favoritism #i was in legitimate hysterics #sp continues to be my light at the end of the tunnel jfkskf #mine #txt #sp spoilers #theres so much here im sorry i ramble sm #i struggle w wordz and usin em ironically

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