#And on the flipside it can catch me off guard if i thought it was platinic and suddenly kissing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pyroclastic727 · 4 years

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Is Amity autistic?

In the Owl House fandom, we hear a lot about how Luz is written to be ADHD. Now I would like to present the flipside: Amity is coded as autistic.

Here’s the breakdown.

Amity is touch-averse. “BuT aMiTy ToUcHeS LuZ aLL tHe TiMe” nice try. The key to autistic touch-aversion is only being okay with touch when she initiates it. And that totally matches up with Amity. See, Amity is really happy when she initiates touch with Luz. She’s also cool with it when Luz holds her hand after standing near her for enough time that Amity can predict an incoming touch. That’s because Amity consents to that touch and expects it.

But when other people touch her? She doesn’t take kindly to that. When Luz initially bumped into her at Covention, she snapped at her and degraded her. Even when she bumped into Luz in Enchanting Grom Fright, her initial instinct was to snap at Luz, since she didn’t expect to be touched. When Hooty touched Amity’s face without consent, she flipped out and beat him up. Not even Lilith beat Hooty up when he wrapped her up in his mucus-filled tube, but Amity gave Hooty the injuries we all wanted to see him with, because he breached her boundaries without her consent. Even as late as the last episode, Amity fell over when her face got close to Luz’s on the bleachers, because she didn’t expect it.

Amity stims. Okay, this one took me a while to catch, since most of the time, Amity is very controlled with her actions. This symptom isn’t very intense; her senses aren’t understimulated too often, and she really only does it when she’s really excited.

Mainly, when Luz offered to carry her. While she adorably scrambled for words, she also flapped her hands against her legs. At first I thought it was just a cute thing she did, but there’s more to it. She was so excited to be held by Luz that it showed up in her hands flapping...a common stim. With Amity feeling more comfortable around her new friends than the old ones, I wouldn’t be surprised to see more stimming in the future.

Amity always has The Mask as her expression. You know, the one with her eyes half-lidded, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly downturned. I also call it the Resting Blight Face, for...reasons.

At first I thought it was just a way to hide her true emotions, since her parents are assholes. But even though Luz makes her feel accepted, she keeps doing it. It’s more like...you know that feeling when you’re thinking really hard, or uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even just relaxed, and you can’t think of which expression to wear quickly enough, so you put on an unreadable one to tide people over? Apparently most people don’t do that, since allistic people tend to have expressions for those feelings, ones that arise naturally.

Another symptom of autism is having hard-to-read expressions, or being less expressive. In Amity’s case, it’s the fact that she doesn’t see a need to have an expression in calmer moments, so she just uses her usual expression.

Amity hyperfixates. This has several facets, so I’ll break this down.

She initially hyperfixated on school. And that’s how she became top student. Amity Blight is who you would mistake for a “gifted student.” But make no mistake...she is not gifted, and gifted is a bullshit label used to overexert people and force them to keep school as their special interest for their entire lives (and I may have a bit of a vendetta against it). Anyways, we already know she’s a perfectionist. My theory is that Amity originally was hyperfocused on school--the Abominations track, to be exact--and that’s part of how she got so good. Then, her focus shifted, but the school expected her to keep being top student. Cue the perfectionism; she was no longer able to focus on school like she wanted to, but everyone expected her to, so she got insecure about it.

She hyperfixates on Azura, just like Luz did. Yeah, she keeps it secret from the world, for most of the time. But she definitely likes Azura a lot. I mean, she started to reconsider her opinion on Luz when Luz offered her an Azura book. She destroyed her jock career because she tried to use an Azura move in real-life Grudgby. Her interest in Azura is long-lived, starting about the time that her interest in school would have expired (which would explain why she stayed closeted). And we can’t ignore the fact that she sees Azura in Luz and is definitely enjoying the parallels between herself and her fictional counterpart. (Which might not be a coincidence, but that’s an entirely different theory).

She hyperfixates on Luz. Yes, part of this is a crush. But a lot of us have watched Amity’s personality go from alpha bitch to cutest little bean in the Boiling Isles, all thanks to Luz’s influence. Lumity is not a rivals-to-lovers speedrun due to bad writing, it’s due to Amity hyperfixating. She’s already extremely introspective, going so far as to keep a diary where she analyzes and makes sense of herself. It’s not a stretch to say that she identified the faults that kept her from Luz and worked hard to change those off-screen.

Amity keeps a journal. To me, this seems like masking. You see, Amity is what people would consider to be high-functioning, since she can pass for allistic. But in order to do this, she has to put in significant effort on her part. See, when she does something that makes it so she doesn’t pass, she just sees it as a problem (since she probably doesn’t know about autism, and she passes well enough that she would totally be undiagnosed). Then she tries to fix the problem, in order to keep being perfect.

Amity has awkward body language. Thanks to the journal and other ways of masking, you don’t see this early on. But once she feels comfortable enough around Luz to let her guard down...she completely forgets boundaries. To review: in episodes 15-17, she throws herself at Luz, holds her formal rival’s hand for 24.71 seconds, blushes every time she sees Luz, and loudly declares her thirsty thoughts about Luz in uniform before literally running away. While some of this can be seen as normal gal pal things or crush things...you’d think a repressed wlw like Amity would try very hard not to touch Luz, so as to avoid being outed. Or at least she would do less of that stuff, so as to respect Luz’s boundaries the way she wants her boundaries to be respected. But that’s not the case, since she straight-up misses a lot of social cues. And since she feels comfortable around Luz, she doesn’t feel the pressure to be so paranoid about the cues, and can be her awkward self. From her point of view, she probably sees it as being freed from her parents’ judgment.

Amity takes things literally, sometimes. Now, this doesn’t happen all the time, since she isn’t heavily affected by this autistic trait. But when Luz says “I’m picking up what you’re putting down” and Amity says “I’m not putting down anything” and looks down...she not only missed the conclusion Luz drew from her words, but also assumed a literal meaning from her words. I can’t come up with many other instances of this, mostly because this doesn’t happen often. I would assume that Amity missed these a lot early on, and learned how to mask/identify them.

Amity is easily upset when things don’t go as planned. Let’s review these. In the library, she gets really mad at Luz when they end up stitched to a book, and it takes Luz’s sweet personality to get Amity to loosen up and laugh over it. When she goes to practice magic, and Luz steals her wand and uses it to get her siblings kidnapped, Amity locks Luz in a cage and assumes that she will get badly injured if she tries to fix the problems she caused. When Luz comes to her school, she panics and focus on how that doesn’t change anything. When she burns Willow’s mind, she appears absolutely terrified of being punished, flinching and bracing for impact when Luz finds her near the memories, constantly trying to distract Luz as they work together to save Willow, and hiding behind Luz when she confronts the Inner Willow. When Luz asks her to join her in Grudgby, Amity doesn’t initially agree, instead taking much more of the episode to come to terms with her involvement in it.

Amity likes predictability. She’s not attached to routines, but she does like being able to expect things. If she makes a plan for the day, she expects that day to adhere to that plan, and she doesn’t respond well when it changes. When Luz comes to her school, she focus on how that doesn’t change anything...not how that would ruin things or complicate things. Whenever she gets involved in Luz’s shenanigans, she either gets angry, scared, or takes a while to accept it. In a broader sense, she takes a while to accept that Luz and her shenanigans are a permanent fixture in her life--sixteen episodes, to be exact.

Finally, it would make for some excellent representation. An ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist is pretty groundbreaking. But an ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist girl who dates an autistic wlw witch girl from another dimension is exactly the kind of intersectional representation you’d expect to see from an unrestricted Owl House crew.

...Now, this might just be me hardcore projecting. I’m a little scared to post this because I don’t know how much of this is me reading into imaginary things, or trying to convince myself that Amity is like me. Feel free to debate/disprove me or support me in the comments.

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letsfluxshitup · 3 years

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Technoblade Learns How To Relax (now on ao3)

Tommy's face became more and more contemplative as he guided Quackity to the ravine dubbed Pogtopia.

He led him down the winding stairs at a pace that had Quackity fumbling to keep up with.

On the last step, Quackity stumbled, heading face first into the dirt before an arm caught him around the waist.

"I told you we needed the guard rails." A voice huffed from behind him.

Quackity thrashed violently, whipping around and ending up on the ground anyways, staring up at the Blade himself.

"Oh! Technoblade-- Mr. Blade, sir, I didn't see you there--" Quackity stuttered, scrambling to his feet. He slipped twice on the gravel before Tommy took pity on him and offered him a hand.

Quackity took it, allowing himself to be dragged up before slightly frantically brushing off his jacket. He scrubbed at the mounting flush on his face, refusing to be embarrassed, and waved away Tommy's concern.

Tommy broke the silence, abruptly clearing his throat.

"Right- anyways, I was just showing Big Q around. He’s with us now, you know." Tommy nodded self-assuredly, glancing between Quackity and Techno.

Techno just nodded, making a noise half agreement half dismissive.

"I'll be in the--" Techno started before Tommy interrupted him, fisting a hand in Techno's cape.

"He needs a room to stay in! We don't have enough, we're going to have to share. I was thinking he could stay with Wilbur but he's a little uh..." Tommy trailed off, scratched at his chin before gesturing vaguely. "You know?"

"I know." Techno sighed, turning to face them. "He can stay with me."

"No that's-- that's not necessary, I can just-- I wouldn't want to inconvenience you--" Quackity started, praying the panic in his tone wasn't too noticeable.

Techno just gave him a leering smile, too much teeth and tusk to be considered anything other than threatening before Tommy smacked him.

"Quit messing with Big Q, he's an ally now, alright?" Tommy said, biting down on a laugh.

Techno snorted before shoving him in retaliation for the smack and Quackity backed away quickly before he got dragged into the rough-housing.

Finally, Techno ended it, sitting on Tommy's back effectively pinning him to the ground. Tommy flailed wildly before whining out a childish 'uncle', and Techno released him. Tommy got one last jab in before sprinting off deeper into the ravine, laughter echoing off of the walls.

Quackity wished he hadn't left, the stale air suffocating as Techno eyed him.

"You like what you see?" Quackity blurted out, before slapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry-- I didn't-- that was an accident I didn't mean to say that, sorry."

Techno just raised an eyebrow at him, and Quackity just knew he was laughing at him, on the inside at least.

Techno gestured in front of him, a silent request to start walking.

Techno followed close behind, managing to avoid stepping on his heels but still unbearably close. His hand was resting loosely on his sword, did he really expect Quackity to attack him here? In his base, all by himself?

Before he could think more about Techno's paranoid tendencies, like the fact that Techno hadn't turned his back to him once, they stopped at a simple wooden door.

The wood was pockmarked with arrow holes, centering around a makeshift bullseye on the door. Above the bullseye was a crude drawing of Techno, Techno's name carved into the door above it.

"Tommy decorated." Techno deadpanned, gesturing vaguely at the door's decorations.

Quackity just nodded mutely, following Techno into his room.

The difference between the rest of the ravine and Techno's room was jarring, to say the least.

The floors were meticulously clean, a broom propped up in the corner.

Everything was shoved to one side, except for the sole bed that was lodged in the far corner, the perfect vantage point to see the door and every part of the room.

There weren't any nooks or crannies to hide in, everything flush against the wall and on ground level, too short to hide behind.

Every corner of the room was lit up, no shadows to lurk in, no area left in the dark.

Techno's bed was frameless, mattress box directly on the floor. He wanted to make a teasing remark about being scared of the monsters under your bed but he swallowed it, all the details clicking into place.

Maybe it wasn't monsters but considering everything else, Techno must have considered the space under his bed a security risk. Part of him wanted to poke fun at his paranoia but another part just felt... Sad.

Did Techno relax? Ever? He couldn't imagine what it must be like, constantly keeping your guard up.

Even now Techno had positioned himself with clear access to the door, and with Quackity at hand’s reach. Well, more accurately, at sword's reach.

Quackity cleared his throat, trying to interrupt the uncomfortable silence they'd settled into. Techno had just quietly watched him look around, and Quackity desperately wished he knew what he was thinking about. His face was as blank and impassive as always.

Finally, Techno spoke.

"Do I need to feed you?" Techno was eyeing him up again, as if he'd be able to tell if he was hungry or not just from looking.

"Uh-- well, I'm a little hungry, but if it's too much trouble don't worry about it, I'll be fine!" Quackity squeaked when Techno abruptly moved forward, hands curling around his shoulders as he nudged him back into a sitting position on a chest.

One of Techno's hands moved from his shoulder to his jaw, forcing his head back slightly.

This was it, Quackity thought, This is where he rips my throat out.

Instead of ripping his throat out, Techno made direct eye contact with him, which was, in Quackity's humble opinion, objectively worse.

Techno broke eye contact first, mouth opening like he was going to say something before his eyes caught on a shallow cut at the base of Quackity's neck.

He'd gotten it on the way to Pogtopia, a skeleton getting a lucky shot on him from the shadows. Thankfully it had barely nicked him, and he hadn't bothered patching it up.

Techno leaned closer to it, forcing Quackity's head farther back, his other hand moving to lightly thumb at it.

Quackity's heart kicked into overdrive, because hey, what the fuck, Technoblade had his sharp ass teeth inches away from his jugular, but he didn't move.

After another uncomfortably long pause Quackity finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"Am I dying, Doc?" He blurted, twisting his head to try and see Techno's expression.

"Huh? Oh, no. You have a heart shaped mole on your neck." Techno huffed a laugh, warm breath ghosting across his neck and Quackity hadn't realized before how fucking cold it was in the ravine.

Techno moved away after that, and Quackity could breathe easier now that he was less worried about dying.

Techno still hovered close, though, nearly nose to nose and without thinking Quackity spoke.

"Are we going to kiss?" He mentally slapped himself afterward, but Techno let out a loud snorting laugh as he moved away more. Quackity was slightly proud he'd gotten a genuine laugh from the man but was still absolutely mortified.

As Techno moved away from him to dig in a chest, Quackity mourned the loss of Techno's warmth. He wondered if it had something to do with being half piglin, or if he always naturally ran hot.

Irrationally, Quackity worried that he had a fever, before squashing that down because the piglin theory made a lot more sense than the Great Technoblade catching a cold.

Techno moved around the room quickly, plucking two bowls out of a chest and giving him a look that silently screamed stay there, before he left the room.

He was back minutes later, and he handed Quackity one of the bowls of soup.

Techno plopped on to the floor and without thinking Quackity slipped down to join him. Techno side eyed him, but rested his back against a chest and started eating.

Quackity ate quickly, the food burning his tongue, and if you asked him he'd have no idea what was in it. When he was finished he carefully placed the bowl next to him, and Techno eyed him expectantly.

"More?" Was all he said, and when Quackity shook his head, a muttered no thanks following, Techno shoved bread at him anyways.

"You don't have to eat it now, but it should stay good for a bit. If you want to keep it on you." Techno went back to his soup, expression once again impassive.

Quackity scooped the bread up, tucking it away into one of his bags. He wondered what made Techno give him extra, if worrying about where your next meal would come from was as inherent to him as it was to himself.

Techno lay on his back, eyes closed and breathing even. He doubted Quackity would be able to tell if he was actually awake or not, but he also didn’t have a very good read on Quackity. It was the main reason he’d offered up his room to him, he wasn’t sure what Quackity was capable of so the closer to him the better.

He didn't know if Quackity could hold his own in a fight, and what if they were invaded in the night? He’d rather be there to protect their weakest link than leave it to the hands of Wilbur or, God forbid, Tommy. Tommy was an adept fighter, sure, but he still hadn’t quite grasped defense over offense, something that would leave Quackity vulnerable.

On the flipside, what if Quackity was a spy? It’d be a lot more difficult to snoop around if Techno was there to watch over him. He was a light sleeper, and his door creaked louder than the others, something he’d never bothered to fix considering it alerted him whenever anyone entered or left.

Quackity also wasn’t known for being particularly quiet, either. Techno was sure that if anything happened when he was asleep, Quackity’s loud panicking would wake him up instantly.

Speaking of his inability to be quiet, Techno listened to him roll over and shift again, his uncomfortable shuffling capturing Techno’s attention in the relative silence of the room. Techno tilted his head, looking at Quackity. He was curled up on the floor, on a thin mat that Tommy had produced from God knows where. He had the blanket stuffed around himself, shivering slightly. Techno hadn’t realized it had been that cold, his back was pressed against the wall behind him that was unnaturally warm due to the lava pool on the other side of it.

“Quackity?” Techno said into the quiet of the room, voice hushed.

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?” Quackity’s voice was high pitched, a nervous titter to it. “Was I bothering you? I can leave--”

He’d moved to a sitting position as he spoke, his shoulders tense and looking ready to bolt.

Techno sighed. Quackity being afraid of him was fun, but also very inconvenient. He gestured at Quackity, beckoning him closer.

Quackity shakily got to his feet, muttering under his breath, this is it, this is the end, this is where he kills me, curse my poor circulation, why do I get cold so easily.

Quackity stopped next to the bed, and Techno lifted up the blanket with one hand and patted the bed next to him with the other.

He stared blankly back at him, looking between the spot next to him and his face, expression quizzical.

“Sleep with me,” Techno huffed, impatient.

“Woah, woah, woah, you seem like a really nice guy but c'mon isn’t this a bit--” Quackity stuttered, looking genuinely surprised and vaguely amused.

At least he doesn’t look afraid, Techno thought absently.

“Not like that. If you’re cold we can share, the bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Quackity studied him again, rocking back and forth on his heels before letting out a sigh and shrug in the personification of fuck it, and slipping into the bed next to Technoblade.

Techno studied Quackity, frowning before scooting closer.

“Climb over me, the wall gives off heat. You’ll be warmer over there.”

After a bit of fumbling and a push from Techno that was more of a drag, Quackity ended up on his other side.

Techno squinted at him again, before dragging Quackity back into his chest. Quackity huffed, offended that Techno could manhandle him so easily. He wasn’t tiny, it was unfair how strong Techno was.

Techno’s arms wrapped loosely around him, he hooked his head over his shoulder.

“Aw, I didn’t take you as the cuddling type,” Quackity teased, pressing his cold feet against whatever part of Techno they could reach.

Techno huffed again, and Quackity wondered how many emotions he could express with just a huff.

“It’s not cuddling.” Techno readjusted his arms, absently rubbing warmth back into Quackity’s cold fingers, “It’s a tactical advantage.”

“Oh? Well, sorry to say, buddy, but your tactical advantage is crushing my wings.”

“Wings?” Techno echoed, abruptly pulling away. Quackity’s face scrunched in displeasure at the rush of cold air that met his back as Techno sat up to look down at him.

Quackity sat up too, unzipping his jacket. Techno eyed him warily for a second, before impatiently tugging at his jacket, trying to lean around him to get a look. A wing hit him in the face then, fluttering slightly before folding back against Quackity’s back. Quackity squeaked, looking terrified but desperately trying to hold back laughter.

“You need to groom your wings,” Techno finally said, after Quackity’s laughter faded.

“Hey, hey, you don’t just comment on a man’s wings!” Quackity’s voice pitched upwards, defensive as he crossed his arms and his wings puffed up slightly, only accentuating the issue. They were small, smaller than Philza’s certainly, and Techno doubted that Quackity could actually get any air time from them.

They were kind of cute though, Techno thought. Objectively, of course.

“What if I spoon you--” Quackity started, only to be cut off by a petulant Technoblade.

“It wasn’t spooning. It was tactical. If someone came in here and saw me, they’d likely leave you alone. I doubt you made any friends when you defected from Manberg, and you’re kind of an easy target.” As if to accentuate his point he gestured vaguely at, well, all of Quackity, and Quackity’s wings puffed out again, expressive now that they weren’t trapped under a jacket.

“I resent that,” Quackity said in response, sticking his tongue out at him.

“Alrighty, if you want a tactical advantage what if we hit 'em with one of these--” Quackity abruptly flopped across Techno, throwing an arm across his chest. Without thinking Techno’s arm came up, catching him across the throat and shoving him backwards against the wall.

“Sorry-- I didn’t mean that, sorry.” Techno pulled away quickly, straightening Quackity’s shirt and fixing his hair, hands dancing nervously across his chest.

“It’s alright,” Quackity rasped. “You’re a bit jumpy, that’s fine, we can work with that.”

Quackity waved away Techno’s mother henning, before slowly lowering himself against Techno’s side.

“This alright?” He murmured, moving so he was laying across Techno’s chest, head on his collarbone.

Techno curled an arm around Quackity’s waist in lieu of a response, careful to avoid his wings.

Quackity opened his mouth to comment on it, but Techno beat him to the punch.

“This isn’t cuddling. It’s a tactical advantage. Now you can’t sneak away without me knowing, how do we know that you aren’t a spy? I don’t know if I can trust you, yet.”

“You don’t trust me, buddy? We’re literally snuggling in your bed.” Quackity snorted.

“It’s not snuggling, it's a--”

“Tactical advantage, right, I know.”

“Anyways, I know I could take you in a fight. You aren’t a threat to me.” Techno continued, as if Quackity hadn’t said anything.

“You don’t know that--” Quackity started before Techno moved to make eye contact with him, a single eyebrow raised. “Ok, you’re probably right, but I think I could get, like, one lucky shot in, you know?”

“Sure,” Techno said dismissively, patting Quackity’s hip placatingly. His hand moved to rubbing up and down Quackity’s back and Quackity realized how tired he was. It’d been a long day, with a lot of running and the fighting with Schlatt took a lot out of him.

Schlatt.

He was sure the man had already forgotten about him, labelled him a traitor and a coward, but Quackity couldn’t stop thinking. He tried to focus on Techno’s steady breathing, to ignore the rising memories from his earlier fight, but it was too much. He finally felt like he could think again, wasn’t panicking or in survival mode. Had he done the right thing? Had he made the right choice?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp tug to one of his feathers.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Techno murmured, smoothing the ruffled feathers back into place. “I’ll protect you from whatever’s got you all flustered, just go to sleep.”

Quackity huffed, but buried his face into Techno’s neck anyways, curling their legs together.

“Fine. Didn’t realize Grandpa had such an early bedtime,” Quackity mocked, earning him another warning tug on his feathers. He smothered his snort against Techno, before sighing out a quiet good night.

Techno just hummed, eyelids growing heavy, surprised that he was comfortable enough to sleep.

#technoblade #quackity #dream smp spoilers #just in case laskdjflksdjf #my writing #i have a lot of thoughts ok #many thoughts head full might make a seperate post talkin about all the headcanons here alkdsfjkldsfj <3 #lemme know if you liked this bc im ridiculously nervous abt posting this and im not really sure why aslkdjflskdjfdfskl #platonic intimacy is important to me so whenever i write it into smth my hearts like '!!!' because i dont want people to be shitty #pushing my political agenda of making everyone understand the importance of platonic intimacy and cuddling #this is ok to reblog btw #ALSO QUACKITY HAS LITTOL WINGS BC I L O V E THAT #quacknobros

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scarabbai · 4 years

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How does everyone view Kalim and Jamil’s relationship in the RR AU? Does it initially seem like they’re very close friends and people slowly realize they like each other as time goes on, or is it blatantly obvious from day one? Are there any particularly unique interpretations of their relationship from the other students? Sorry if I’m bombarding you with questions, but your AU has helped me get through a stressful week and I really enjoy it so far!

ANON IM SO GLAD MY AU BRINGS YOU JOY!!!!!!! Role reversed au makes me happy too so I’m super ;u; at the fact that it can bring other people happiness as well ;u;;; ALSO!! Please don’t worry about “bombarding” me with questions!! I LOVE questions!!! They help me think about stuff I haven’t considered yet in the au and tbh yall seriously know how to ask the REAL questions lmao

(Also as of me currently writing this, I don’t even have any other asks here aside from this one!! So if you want to send more...👀👀)

OKAY now for me to actually get to your question!!! I definitely think that upon their arrival at the school, they would have been read more as close friends and their attraction to each other would be less obvious. Not only were they both more guarded and cautious when they first got to the school (Kalim was busy getting a read on their classmates and the general school environment to sus out any potential threats or problems right off the bat while Jamil was SUPER uncomfortable and paranoid over being around so many people he didn’t know) but they also were roommates during their first year. Since it would be weird if Jamil, as a new student, somehow managed to get a large room all to himself, he went for the next best option by having Crowley assign both him and Kalim to a spacious two person dorm room (also a little weird, but a lot less suspicious than the alternative) so they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone they didn’t know. Bc of this, a lot of the stuff they said or did that came off as a little too close for them to just be friends was passed off as them being like that bc they shared a room.

Of course, anyone who paid close enough attention probably realized that Kalim and Jamil are definitely special to each other in a way no one else is. For example, even if Jamil is friends with some people at the school, he doesn’t let anyone touch him and is very big on personal space. Despite this, Kalim is always welcome to be physically affectionate without asking, and Jamil not only is content with Kalim hanging off his arm or draping himself over him but also gets touchy feely with Kalim in return. This kind of attention from Jamil is something no one else gets. On the flipside, Kalim is notably attentive to Jamil’s thoughts, feelings, and needs. Obviously he won’t share a good majority of what he knows, but it’s pretty obvious that Kalim knows practically everything about Jamil. He does a lot of little things to make him smile, and it’s not uncommon to catch Kalim staring at Jamil while he’s reading or studying. Both him and Jamil are in denial over their feelings, so they try to justify things to themselves/reason themselves out of it (Kalim tries to convince himself that he should just be carrying out his duties and nothing more, Jamil reminds himself not to read too deep into the way Kalim acts bc it could be false) but either way the trust between them is so solid it’s almost tangible. Considering these kinds of small moments of closeness would be most likely seen while they’re in the dorm, I feel like of all the people in the school, their fellow Scarabia dorm members would pick up the whole “yeah they definitely like each other but won’t admit it”/“are those two dating?” vibe from them first LMAO

I imagine a lot of their actual classmates, especially during their first year, wouldn’t care to look suuuper deeply into it and therefore may not have noticed. Out of all the students we know of, Azul would be the most likely to suspect that there’s something a bit different about their friendship than is normal, though I think the trail he’d be following would be that of their true identities rather than them liking each other. Considering Lilia is old as hell and has seen just about everything, he’d probably know more or less from day one that they like each other but decides to keep quiet about it so he can watch and see what happens. Also Rook DEFINITELY knows way before everyone else. He can just Sense It.

However, some stuff changes during second year when Jamil becomes dorm leader. By this point, Jamil has become WAY more secure and comfortable with staying at nrc, so his confidence is at an all time high and he isn’t laying low or sticking the shadows at all anymore. This makes him bolder and has him standing in the spotlight a lot more, which also means his interactions with Kalim become much more obvious. The way Jamil immediately appointed Kalim as his vice dorm leader upon getting the position is a bit telling as well. Due to their positions, they’re around each other even more than before, and they can often be seen discussing things or whispering plans to each other. Also, since they’re no longer roommates but still frequently are seen going to each other’s rooms (Kalim to Jamil’s room moreso than Jamil to Kalim’s room), that makes people looking on from the outside go 🤔 since they don’t know about Kalim’s duties and such. The end of ch4 and the rest of winter break is also SUPER awkward bc like. The feelings end up halfway out in the open but don’t get addressed and it’s just SO obvious by that point that it’s kinda ridiculous.

I feel like by the time they ACTUALLY get together after ch4, everyone in the Scarabia dorm, as well as some of Kalim and Jamil’s friends, will go “FINALLY” bc SERIOUSLY they’ve been disasters around each other for far too long 😔

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #twst kalim #jamil viper #twst jamil #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #lilia vanrouge #kalim x jamil #twst lilia #rook hunt #twst rook #role reversed au #my stuff #responses

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coreastories · 4 years

Text

The Biscuits

Part 15 of Days and Nights of Forever

They went to New Zealand, making new life-long friends, and unknowingly starting the next part of their forever.

Rating: NC-17

This directly connects to:

Royal Scandal: Proof of the king and queen of Corea’s utter besottedness with each other

A Royal Twin! Meet the Most Honorable Lady Seo-gyeong

With thanks and love to @collectsfallenstars and @pateetsie for cookie supplies and (a)moral support.

The morning they met Luna and Shin-jae-- well, Koo Seo-gyeong and Kang Hyeon-min--was a beautiful and still winter day.

It was August in Corea. They’d left it in high summer with scorching humidity. But here, they could see their breaths. Tae-eul thought it was too much of a flipside theme that her double lived in a country that wintered when it was Tae-eul’s summer. But she tried not to think about that.

There was already plenty to think of.

They took the scenic route from Christchurch to Wellington, three private compartments discreetly arranged on the train, and then a chartered boat to cross the Cook Strait.

The rugged coastlines of North and South Islands were blanketed in snow. The primitive beauty of those slopes and mountains took Tae-eul’s breath away.

They watched the landscape from the deck on the stern of the boat, with Gon standing behind her, his arms around her waist. He had opened his coat so that she rested against his chest with one less layer between them.

His right hand-- the one with the glove off because he had shaken hands with the captain and accepted the silver tin of Anzac biscuits the captain’s little granddaughter had made for them-- was inside her coat, stroking her left side, firm enough to feel through her cashmere and silk layers.

When his hand started to go higher and lower, she grabbed it and held it against her waist. She felt his torso shake with laughter, and he bent his head to hers and buried his cold nose behind her ear.

He laughed harder when she jumped away from him. She turned in his arms and pushed both hands against his chest. “Let’s go inside before that nose falls off.”

He mimicked her, placing both hands on her shoulder, his right hand nestling in her fur collar.

“Are you alright? How do you feel?”

She nodded, leaning her cheek against his hand. “A little scared but I’m trying not to look too far ahead or make things up that haven't happened yet. We’re just meeting two people who would most certainly be our friends, that’s all.”

He nodded back, accepting what she said, and knowing the truth she hadn’t said.

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

They’d received an invitation to dine at Government House tomorrow evening, but for the most part, they were truly incognito. They hadn’t opened the house the Royal Court owned here. They were at a hotel. They drove and walked the streets of Wellington just like everyone else.

The Royal Guard were in civilian clothes scattered around them. Gon could see Jangmi stepping aside, fiddling with his phone, and putting it against his ear as a ruse for another 360 degree check around them.

Aside from that, it was easy to believe he and Tae-eul weren’t with escorts at all, just an ordinary couple strolling through the capital. It reminded him of all those times he explored the republic on his own. He glanced at Tae-eul and the slight smile on her face told him she was enjoying it, too.

Tae-eul was still smiling when she saw them in the restaurant. Her smile faltered the tiniest bit and Gon turned his head to find the cause. Koo Seo-gyeong and Kang Hyeon-min were sitting at a window booth of the restaurant where he and Tae-eul were headed to meet them.

They seemed to sense Tae-eul spotting them, because by the time Gon looked, the two were rising to their feet and bowing their heads slightly-- and then they seemed to remember the agreement that they were all meeting as civilians and they raised their heads. Seo-gyeong raised a hand and waved.

He could swear he had seen Tae-eul do that exact same awkward wave.

Tae-eul’s hand squeezed his. Then she pulled him toward the restaurant.

They exchanged polite greetings. He seated Tae-eul first, and she flapped her hands at the other two to sit down, but they waited until Gon had taken his seat. They all smiled at each other, even Kang Hyeon-min. For once, the man didn’t look like he would rather be anywhere else.

Then Gon saw the angle of their overlapping arms and guessed Seo-gyeong was holding Hyeon-min’s hand under the table. That would do it.

Koo Seo-gyeong wore her hair like Tae-eul’s, loose and unstyled. Perhaps because it was winter, so women left their hair down for added warmth, didn’t they? But that hair had the same waves. She wore a long-sleeved simple black sweater dress, and her coat draped over the back of her seat was of a camel color that brought back more memories for Gon.

She was looking at Tae-eul with fascination.

“I don’t want to assume we’re twins, Mama,” Seo-gyeong said. “I certainly don’t want to think you were alone at any point like I was. But we do look so much alike. It’s uncanny.”

Tae-eul nodded, exchanging a look with him and extending her smile for Seo-gyeong to him. They had decided they didn’t want their relationship with Seo-gyeong to stand on more deception than absolutely necessary, so here they were. “I’m quite sure my mom gave birth to me. But this is really unbelievable, yes.”

Seo-gyeong was still looking at them with fascination. “What’s unbelievable is this. I appreciate you coming all the way here. And really, you didn’t need to. I mean, you could easily command me to change my appearance, you know, Pyeha, Mama, and I would have understood. I’m a loyal subject and servant of the crown, and I want you safe.”

Gon shook his head even while his brain wanted him to nod, because yes, of course, Seo-gyeong, raised in a family instead of growing up alone and having to fend for herself, would be just like Tae-eul in her sense of duty.

“We’ll do no such thing,” he said. “We appreciate that you understand the delicacy of the situation. You could still refuse, of course.”

Gon left it at that, giving Seo-gyeong a real opening. He looked at Tae-eul, and she was already looking at him, giving him quiet approval.

The other couple had also exchanged looks. Seo-gyeong said, “Well, I’ve been convinced that this is all for my benefit. I’m gaining another sister and the protection of the Royal Court. It’s no loss for me to pretend to be your twin, Mama.”

“Maybe you could call me by my name? It’s not just pretend,” Tae-eul said. Gon added, “Not pretend. We do have the lab work to back it up. And you gain a brother, too.”

Seo-gyeong made a half-grimace, half-smile Gon also recognized. “Let me wrap my head around that, Pyeha--oppa. Omo. That’s so weird, isn’t it?”

They all laughed, except Kang Hyeon-min, who said in a flat tone, “You haven’t even called me that and this is when you say it. To the king. You’re embarrassing.”

Judging from how Seo-gyeong jerked slightly and then the way Kang Hyeon-min’s face also jerked in momentary pain, Seo-gyeong must have kicked him under the table.

“Mama-- um, Tae-eul, can you tell me more about yourself? Let’s start with your job. You must know everything about me. I’m at a disadvantage.”

Tae-eul said, “Oh no, no, we didn’t look you up like that. We only have your public record. That’s how we knew you had the same face as mine, of course. And I remember-- well-- Gon told me he remembers your name from the recommendations he signed. I worked in violent crimes in my organization, too, like you. And you know it can get dreadfully dull sometimes until you’re trying to solve a murder.”

Seo-gyeong said, “Right? You either help other teams with their cases until you have yours.”

Tae-eul nodded. “And when you do, they’re so much work.”

Seo-gyeong nodded emphatically. “Stakeouts. Chases. Not sleeping to hunt for evidence. Waiting for stuff all the time from forensics and other labs. I don’t miss it.”

Tae-eul was doing the half-grin, half-grimace Seo-gyeong had done earlier. “And don’t get me started on the paperwork. I came across the traitor’s men completely by coincidence in one of my cases and here we are. That’s it, really.”

Gon’s eyes went from one woman to the other, and he noticed Kang Hyeon-min doing the same, his expression unreadable. Gon had read about the likeness of twins’ minds-- not linked, but alike-- and while this was a completely different case because Tae-eul and Seo-gyeong weren’t twins but parallels of each other, they were certainly alike in many ways.

He could tell them apart, of course. Even in this timeline, Tae-eul’s eyes were still more forthright, more dauntless. But if the two women had more differences aside from Seo-gyeong being less reserved than Tae-eul, it would probably show up if they spent more time together, certainly not right now while they were only talking about their very similar jobs.

Seo-gyeong leaned back in her seat, smiling. “Seemed like destiny since it meant you met your husband now.”

Tae-eul met his eyes, all traces of trepidation gone now. Only amusement remained. Destiny was their best friend. They grinned at each other.

Then he saw her catch Hyeon-min’s eyes and Tae-eul’s grin didn’t quite falter like earlier, but Gon saw the way it turned into a wistful smile. She was truly happy for this Kang Hyeon-min, but she was also understandably sad about him. “I’m thankful for your part in this, Kang sunbaenim.”

“It’s nothing, Mama,” he said, gruff but still respectful.

The food they’d ordered arrived then and they ate, touching on light topics, life in New Zealand, Seo-gyeong’s mother sending packages of Corean things every two weeks, the work in Interpol, Tae-eul studying English and Seo-gyeong giving her tips and promising to send audiobooks she loved, and then just as they were all dunking Anzac biscuits into their teas and coffees, Prime Minister Koo arrived.

She had removed her thick black coat. She wore a black leather jacket, a white pullover, and light gray jeans. And on her feet were modestly-heeled boots. As far from the image of Corea’s prime minister usually was.

And like Gon had done earlier, Koo Seo-ryeong moved her eyes between Tae-eul and Seo-gyeong. Then she sighed, sat down, ordered coffee, and said, “What are you doing here?”

To Kang Hyeon-min.

“Their Majesties are here for my sister. You didn’t need to tag along. My sister’s got enough spine to sit here and have tea with her new family. You’re just cluttering up this table.”

Kang Hyeon-min slurped his coffee loud enough to be heard at the next table and then deliberately looked out the window without answering.

Gon felt Tae-eul rather urgently squeeze his arm several times. So he spoke and redirected Koo Seo-ryeong’s attention to him. “Right. Prime Minister, our people have taken care of the lab results. The Royal Public Affairs Office has also prepared the announcement. Your office will likely be asked for a statement.”

“Ye, Pyeha, my statement is also ready. What do the lab results say?”

“Some copy variations, but probability of full siblingship at 98%.”

Seo-ryeong looked at Tae-eul. “And you’re really sure your mother gave birth to you, Mama?”

“Yes, there were photos and even a video.”

“Just you?”

“Koo Seo-ryeong!” Seo-gyeong said, horrified.

“Yes, just me,” Tae-eul answered, unflappable.

Seo-ryeong turned to Seo-gyeong. “You’re still a foundling and not a lost girl then. Never mind. Now you’re practically royal.”

“I am not. Will you stop?”

Seo-ryeong smiled and sipped her tea. Apparently, she only liked poking Seo-gyeong a little, not with real malice.

But Kang Hyeon-min made a noise and malice returned to the table. Gon felt Tae-eul squeeze his arm again. Seo-ryeong put her teacup down.

“What are you snorting about?”

“Just thinking how ironic this is. You’ve always wanted to be queen but you’re not. And now your sister’s even beaten you without trying. She’s now related to the crown.”

Seo-gyeong elbowed him. “I didn’t beat her in anything of the sort, are you crazy? Unnie, ani!”

Too late. Seo-ryeong had already thrown the Anzac at Kang Hyeon-min’s head. And she grabbed another and threw it, too.

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

Tae-eul leaned against Gon in the car, half-asleep, half immersed in memories.

Every single time she took the bigger half of the popsicle and the few times he forced her to take the smaller one.

The day he’d told her and her dad the story of his family’s bankruptcy. His father’s arrest. His mother’s gambling addiction.

Every single time he had bitten her head off when he was waiting for the results of the police exam.

The days he left and came back from military service.

Every single time he was on her side. In their squad. Against lowlifes. During fights. Or against her dad even, when it mattered and he wasn’t sucking up.

The day he’d told her he loved her and couldn’t let her go, but did so anyway, giving her what she’d asked for, and paving the way for her to keep her memories, didn’t he, because she had been inside the gates when Gon had altered their time.

She couldn’t bear to think what would have happened if she had been outside when the ripple happened.

It was all thanks to Kang Shin-jae, who was in fact Kang Hyeong-min. He was a big part of why she was happy right now, with Gon’s arm around her.

And he had bowed his head in goodbye to her as if he wasn’t. Because he didn’t know. He wasn’t the friend she’d known since she was sixteen. To him, she was the queen, and now the sister of the woman he loved.

She was the sole keeper of those memories now, of that life she’d shared with him.

Seeing Kang Shin-jae in the republic was different. That Kang Shin-jae wasn’t her Kang Shin-jae at all. He had been asleep all this time.

It was Kang Hyeon-min who had been her hyeong-nim in the republic. Kang Hyeon-min who had tearfully wondered if he was where he was supposed to be, who had asked her if he still had her welcome.

Well, he was where he was supposed to be right now. And he was happy. She took a deep breath and blinked away tears.

Gon held her hand and didn’t say anything until they were inside their suite at the hotel. And then he looked at her inquiringly as they finished shedding their winter outerwear, leaving them in their lighter coats.

“I’m fine. I’m good. You? Did it scare you when Seo-ryeong threw that biscuit? And with deadeye accuracy, too. That should teach you not to infuriate her, you know.”

He looked at her, amused, and… something else. He suddenly lifted her up and placed her on the escritoire. It creaked under her and she clung to him and half-pushed, half-pulled him as a lever to try to get off the antique desk, but he blocked her way.

His gaze locked with hers and she knew she wasn’t fooling him for a second. His eyes said he understood. “Did you see the look on her face when Kang Hyeon-min started saying those things?”

Tae-eul laughed. She loved this man. He always knew what she needed. She stroked his arm affectionately. “I thought she was going to throw her tea at him, not the biscuit. Like an angry chaebol mother.”

They laughed together. And then his eyes were going half-lidded, focused on her grin. He kissed her, a soft and gentle press that she returned. He parted from her for a second, still smiling, and then he kissed her again. This time in earnest, the kiss she’d wanted all along.

Because Seo-gyeong, Kang Hyeon-min and Seo-ryeong were on their side.

Because fate seemed to be.

And because this man continued to prove himself worthy of defying fate. In a hundred small ways that made her love him more.

So she smiled and kissed him back, her arm sliding around his neck, his sliding under her jacket, both of them pulling each other closer.

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

When he came out of his office after getting waylaid by phone calls, Tae-Eul was already dressed for their dinner with the governor-general, already buttoned into her camel coat.

She stood by the window, and she had opened it to the crisp winter air. Gon looked at her for a long moment, taking in all the beautiful lines and curves she had from her loose hair to her heels.

Today, they had pretty much just slept in. Yesterday was a day of revelations and it had shaken them more than they’d admit. So they’d slept in, had a quiet day in their suite, and now she was ready for dinner with one of the many world leaders she was bound to meet as queen.

His footfalls made no sound on the thick carpet, so she startled a little when he put his arms around her waist from behind. Then she leaned back against him and sighed, letting her arms rest over his, their fingers interlacing.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I feel like I miss her already. I wish we could spend more time together, but there’s also this fear that we shouldn’t do that. That she belongs here in New Zealand and I belong in the kingdom. Does that make sense?”

He nodded in turn.

She spoke again. “She’s different, but not really. She’s still the same Luna I met. She fetched Lee Lim for me, you know. She took care of my dad. I’m so glad she’s not sick this time.”

Gon saw her swipe at her cheek. So he said, “He’s still exactly the same though. He still looks constipated when he looks at me. And I haven’t done anything to him.”

That made her laugh.

“Your Majesties, the car’s ready.”

Just in time. She turned in his arms to walk to the door but he kept his arms around her, held her close for another second, inhaling her sweet scent, and then kissed her on the forehead. She smiled at him, kissed him on the lips, and then gently pushed him off, straightening her coat.

They walked hand in hand, and he glanced at that froth of black lace at her throat that peeked out of her camel coat. She was lovely, she was amazing, and he could feel his chest just bursting with pride for her.

He wanted to show her off to the world, but that could come later.

The dinner at Government House would be private. It was just the four of them, Dame Patsy Reddy and her husband Sir David Gascoigne. Gon had left her a message to thank her for the invitation and to request this intimate dinner because it would be among the queen’s first. Dame Patsy had returned the call and confirmed that yes, it would be just the four of them, and they wouldn’t even have press at all.

It was simply a warm welcome to the visiting royalty from the queen of New Zealand’s representative.

Gon was glad for Tae-eul’s sake when they arrived without the din of reporters. Dame Patsy and Sir David were waiting at the door to welcome them, and Tae-eul warmly greeted them, offering her hand.

Then she turned to him and he loved that shy and brilliant smile she gave him as she waited for him to translate the rest of the greetings.

“You two are so sweet,” Dame Patsy said. “I’m so glad to meet you in that newlywed look.”

This was simple enough for Tae-eul to understand, and she predictably smiled her shy, closed-mouthed smile with that cute nose scrunch. It made her look about nineteen.

Cute was still in his head and he was still smiling over how adorable she was so it completely gobsmacked him when she was helped out of her coat and he saw her dress.

It was a softly glittering cloud of black lace.

Judging by the expressions of admiration and delight from their hosts, he wasn’t the only one who noticed how beautiful it was. How beautiful she was.

“My dear, how absolutely ravishing, your frock. Look, your husband is speechless.”

Gon heard that but it was another second before it registered. Then he shook himself inwardly and smiled at the GG, offering her his arm, while Sir David escorted Tae-eul.

“You didn’t tell her what I said, Your Majesty?” Dame Patsy asked, giggling now. “Did you hear me at all?”

“Of course I did, Your Excellency.” He turned to Tae-eul. “Dame Patsy said--”

He was about to embellish what the GG had said, just to make her blush, to make her cute again so he could function at this dinner. But his words died in his throat when Tae-eul said in nearly perfect English, “I heard what she said. I was waiting for you to speak. Good for you. You’re too smooth sometimes, is that the word?” Turning to Dame Patsy who was already chuckling, Tae-eul added, “Thank you so much.”

The evening was just a haze to Gon. He took care of Tae-eul, of course, translating when needed, answering her questions, but he had no idea how well he did.

He was used to women wearing the most beautiful dresses. But this was Tae-eul, and he wondered if he’d ever get used to her stunning him with her beauty. The dress was modest, the neckline at the base of her throat, the sleeves to her wrists, the hemline at her knees, but all that lace-- and how well she spoke in a language she’d just begun learning-- short-circuited his brain.

He thought about unsolved math problems throughout the dinner. And if their hosts noticed he was distracted, they were only amused. At least he’d entertained them for the evening, hadn’t he.

Sir David was going to show him something or other in his study, but Dame Patsy vetoed that. “We shouldn’t keep you. Thank you so much for your generosity in spending the evening with two old people, Your Majesties.”

They said goodbyes, Tae-eul inviting them to Corea for the festivals. He couldn’t remember which. He took her coat from the butler and helped her into it himself.

She caught his eyes over her shoulder and blushed then. Oh now, she’d blush?

He wondered if Yeong had seen the dress during the security scans and that was why Yeong had ordered the Royce Phantom as their car for this evening.

Ahh, Yeong.

He bundled Tae-eul into her seat and then took a deep breath of the frigid winter evening. The ride to the hotel was around ten minutes. That was nothing. Only ten minutes.

He got in the car. Tae-eul was looking at him strangely. “What were you doing standing outside for a minute?”

He focused his eyes on her forehead, on the delicate wings of her eyebrows. He just smiled at her as he put on his seatbelt. Then he looked out his window.

He felt her reach for his hand, resting their arms on the car’s infuriatingly huge center console. He took a deep breath. And regretted it because he got a lungful of her fragrance.

He looked at his watch. Only three minutes had passed.

He turned to Tae-eul. She was looking out her window, both hands in her lap. Belatedly, he realized he had disentangled his hand from hers when he looked at his watch.

Gazing at that profile, the city lights swathing the lines and curves of her face in gold and shadow, he saw the queen she would become, had already become: poised, fierce, and brave, always brave. For him, for them, for this life they’d chosen.

“Tae-eulah.”

She turned to him. And she was so beautiful in that moment, in her simple questioning glance, that he wondered what idiot had possessed him to make him think he’d last ten minutes without touching her.

He pushed the button to turn the car’s electrochromatic privacy glass opaque.

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

Tae-eul looked from Gon to the glass and back.

“Why did you do that? Now Yeong and Jangmi will think we’re doing unspeakable things here.”

Gon laughed. “We can speak it. They can’t hear us. Come here.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“We’re in the car!”

“I want to kiss you.”

She inhaled sharply. She was still trying to catch her breath from those words, said in that voice, when his hands were there, pulling at her seatbelt for more give, and then pulling her close, and then his lips were on hers.

He thoroughly caressed her lips with his for several breathless moments. He nibbled on her bottom lip next, teasing it with his tongue, and then went back to that drugging lips on lips friction that sent her nerves on fire, before nipping her lower lip again and drawing it into his mouth, suckling gently, tasting and stroking it with his tongue.

When he finally, finally touched his tongue to hers, she heard herself groan, and she couldn’t help the soft moan that followed when he gently delved and twirled his tongue with hers. His hand was on her ribcage, his thumb caressing the curve of her breast, the other hand cupping her cheek with his fingers in her hair.

Her arm was trapped between them on the console, so she only had one hand free, but she couldn’t do much but cling to his wrist as he moved his mouth to her cheek, then her neck and the shell of her ear, where he paused to kiss and nip, making her shudder as sparks rushed from that spot on her ear and straight to her core.

“Neo-neun wan-byuk-hae. Saranghae.”

She sighed. She was just about to reach for him with both hands so she could kiss him again when the car stopped.

Gon kissed her briskly, reached a hand to her waist to release her seatbelt, removed his, and then he was out his door and opening hers. She felt the strands of hair he’d loosened from her chignon flutter back and forth against her neck as he led them from the car to the hotel lobby and then across it to their semi-private lift.

The liftman bowed and pushed the button to their suite. Tae-eul hid her heated face against Gon’s arm. She poked his side when she felt him laugh.

In contrast to the dignified but still slightly mad rush through the lobby, they walked slowly to their door, saying good night to In-yeong and Ho-Pil standing in the hall.

Once they were inside, she kicked off her heels and removed her coat. Then she fished for a biscuit from the tin on the console. Gon stood there watching her, unmoving.

As if she couldn’t feel her blood heating her neck and cheeks almost unbearably hot, she bit into the cookie and said, “What?”

He said in English, “You are absolutely ravishing.”

She looked like she was going to imitate her earlier bravado, but it lasted only two seconds. She looked down and said, “Oh stop it. You don’t think this was too much? Chung-cha said queens only wore two fabrics in the evenings, lace or silk. Or both.”

He removed his coat, put his arm around her, and led her to the sofa, planting his lips on her temple and not letting go even as they dropped onto the cushions, hip to hip. He took the biscuit from her and finished it in one mouthful.

“You can wear whatever you want. Since when can you tease in English?”

She laughed. “I had Seung-ah’s help. We just thought up scenarios and she helped me with the words I wanted to say.”

He dropped his head on the sofa’s back. “You’ll be the death of me one day.”

“Good. Because you always, always make me feel like I’m dying.”

Maybe it was because of his kiss. Maybe because she was still tingling from that kiss. Maybe it was the way he exposed his delicious jawline and neck to her just then. She didn’t care. She hitched the skirt of her dress high on her thighs so she could do what she wanted to do, which was straddle her husband.

It was comical how fast he put his head back upright when he felt her settle on his knees. His arms went around her back, supporting her, always protective that way. She smiled and threaded her fingers through his soft hair.

She ghosted her lips over his nose, his cheek, his ear, doing what he’d done in the car and nipping him there. She felt him shiver and she loved it, almost as much as the feel of his hands traveling up her back, leaving a trail of delicious heat through her layers of silk and lace.

She felt her dress loosen when he found the hidden zip and pulled it down.

She leaned forward and relished the heavenly feel of settling against the solid warmth of his chest, and then--she didn’t know who closed the remaining distance-- they were kissing each other, tongue tips touching and teasing. He growled as he sucked her tongue into his mouth and she shuddered as that sucking and that growl set off sensation everywhere.

If she thought a previous kiss was good, he always, always made it better.

She had straddled his lap to initiate things, but now she was happy to be kissed senseless, just clinging to him as he kissed her like it was their first time, parting from her lips and then going back in at a slightly different angle, again and again, until she’d had enough of it and she placed both hands against his neck so she could kiss him properly.

He tasted-- they both tasted--like the butter and coconut in the Anzac biscuits they kept eating here. It was delicious. But then it was always delicious between them. He smiled against her lips, letting her take control.

And then he was moving his hands, gently but insistently pulling her dress over her shoulder and down her arms. It got stuck at her elbows, and they laughed a bit while she showed him the hidden zippers at her wrists.

They both stood so she could shimmy out of her dress and he got rid of his suit jacket and trousers. And then she pushed him back down on the sofa and followed him there, her knees back on either side of him. She was in her silk slip, and he hitched it higher up her hips and pulled her closer against him.

Her breath caught when her core connected with his arousal, only his and her underwear between them. He gave a soft thrust and she returned it, settling and rubbing against him and giving a soft, drawn out sigh of pleasure.

Her fingers shook as she unknotted his bowtie and discarded it behind the sofa.

“Ahh, Tae-eulah.” He growled this against her neck as he grabbed her hips and rocked her against him. She gasped and nearly tore one of his shirt buttons off. She finished them and he shrugged off his shirt and then pulled her slip over her head in one smooth movement.

One would think they’d been apart for weeks instead of a few hours, the way they both relished being skin to skin. She shivered at the sensation of his chest against hers and smiled at how he looked at her with dark eyes, his lips kiss-swollen, and his chest rising and falling, breathing hard.

And then he was bowing his head to sip at her lips, and then making her writhe and moan with open-mouthed, nibbling kisses on her neck. He pushed her back a little in his arms and she clung to his neck and gasped as he leaned forward and took first one nipple in his mouth and then the other, suckling tenderly for long, long moments.

Electric pleasure was both shooting down to her core and ricocheting outward from there because he was also gently rocking against her.

His arms were the only thing keeping her anchored, serving as her back rest with her leaning back on his lap, and this was a tiny, nebulous thought that nonetheless added to the thrill and pleasure running through her.

She pulled him up for a kiss and he pulled her back upright against him. She said something incoherent, her fingers pushing down his boxers and gently pulling him out. He groaned against her mouth.

“Gon--”

She didn’t know what she wanted-- she was a little desperate at that point. But he understood. He reached between them and used his thumb to push her panties aside. And yes, yes, that was it, and she almost sobbed with relief when he pushed inside her.

He buried himself to the hilt and she crumpled against him, only staying upright because her arms were around his shoulders. She gasped when he lifted her up--the drag and heat of it making her boneless-- and slammed her back down.

Somehow, some way, her knees functioned again and she whimpered against Gon’s neck when she used her knees to lever herself up and discovered an angle that hit a particularly delicious spot every time she came down.

Gon was cradling her with arms loose around her waist, letting her move as she pleased, whispering and groaning praise against her ear. Until he reached a point where he stopped praising.

“Go faster now, Tae-eul.”

She leaned back, “Oh?” She rolled her hips and they both groaned.

“If you won’t do it, I will.”

She laughed at the slightly disheveled and unhinged look in his face.

In the middle of that laugh, he rammed her hips up into hers, making her gasp. And just like that, her knees almost turned to water again because she was close.

Gon kept at it and she clung to his neck and met his thrusts.

“Gon, harder.”

At her whispered command, he growled and reversed their positions, gently but efficiently placing her on her back and ramming into her, one of his arms sliding away from her waist to brace his elbow on one side of her head. The other held her close as he continued with his relentless pace, and she could only hang on, her legs cradling his hips, ankles locking behind him.

He kept their eyes locked as he made love to her, except when he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, and when she closed her eyes when the pleasure became blinding and unbearable and she cried out softly as her orgasm rolled through her.

It was intense. Waves upon waves of white hot pleasure, her neck straining and the top of her head pressing onto the sofa, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

“God, Tae-eul,” Gon groaned against her, and he was thrusting erratically with his own climax. She hugged him and cradled his head with her hands, whispering, “Saranghae,” as they stayed joined even as they both finished.

She sighed and kissed his hair. He turned his head and kissed her cheek, and then they were both laughing softly, fondly.

“What was that you said?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Something about making you feel like dying?”

“Shut up.”

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

This is for everyone who are still reading and still can’t move on from TKEM. Drop me a line. :)

You can look up Elie Saab cocktail dresses for the inspiration for Tae-eul’s dress.

You can also look up the Rolls-Royce Phantom to see what the car is like. What, I like cars, and they serve fictional purposes.

The continuation of the Corean Awards Night coming up next.

#CoreaFiction #CoreaNews #CoreaStories #the king eternal monarch #the king: eternal monarch

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justforsutff · 4 years

Text

My hopes for Paper Mario: The Origami King

Hello! Big fan of paper mario here just to ramble about my thoughts the announced Origami king. The game is said to release on July 17 2020.

First things first I wanna say that i’m cautious about the game and i’m going to try to not have a biased opinion on it. The game’s trailer did actually catch my eye which was something that the previous games did not do for me as much. That at the very least says something about the game or how nintendo’s trailer making skills.

First things first I wanna say the game looks absolutely gorgeous. Sticker Star (which I loathe) and Color splash had a similar charm to it as well. The worlds were aesthetically pleasing to look at, whether or not they were memorable. My favorite from the ‘closer look’ trailer that released today was the desert oasis. It reminded me of the Sand Kingdom and Metro Kingdom of Mario Odyssey but fused together (also it was a little complimentary with how most of the buildings were yellow and the ground was shades of purple). I hope for the name game to have unique and memorable worlds. In Paper Mario for the Nintendo 64 I can name off a description of a good chunk of the lands. I remember the starry mountains that connect us to the Star npcs, I remember the boo mansion where we were tricked and teased, I remember toad town for all the little side things (such as the post office, the dojo, the bar). In thousand year door I can tell you about the cursed town that turn the inhabitants into PIGS, a small koopa town in the same area of a GIANT tower guarded by a evil dragon, a city in the sky that contains a big ass wrestling event. In Super Paper Mario I can remember the Underwear where you go where your game is over and the heaven like counterpart to it, Flipside and all the side stuff you can do and how it actively works with Mario’s main ability of flipping into other worlds, the area in literal space with a cute but spoiled little green squid. These games had memorable worlds to them with memorable characters! They look unique and all have a level of charm to them!

We also see companions sorta! Most the reception i’ve seen based on these characters tended to be that of ‘they just look like the regular enemies?’. I can sorta get this point and lightly agree with it (though i’m not as upset about it?), the idea of the paper mario side kicks was that they all had somewhat unique designs that made them stand out from their team mates. While I do wish characters like the bob-omb (Bobby) had more of a design to him, my hope is that the character will be characteristically memorable. The idea that I think Sticker Star lacked the Color Splash was kinda getting there with was charm. Every npc you talked to, every team member you were with, etc etc all of them had something memorable to them. Sometimes it’s on a physical level, I personally think Thousand Year Door nailed it with a physical level of charm. Look at all the unique types of toad we have in that game.

((https://www.reddit.com/r/papermario/comments/amwzz0/ive_made_a_new_version_of_that_ttyd_toads_vs/))

Look at the top section of toads here, all of them have a unique design to them that all TELL you just something about them. Even if you haven’t interacted with them in the slightest. I put the Color splash one here because I think, like with everything about that game almost, it was a step in the right direction. Sticker star pertained most the game generic ass toad where Color splash- while I think they could’ve done more (I agree with the top post by DaDudebro2401 saying “ If more of them had clothes, or things to differentiate them, I feel like the toads in this game would be a lot better. Like Professor Toad for instance... He was just a normal toad. What if he had a lab coat or something simple like that? That would add something to make him special. Or What if the pirate toad had a black vest, and the captain pirate toad had a fancy pirate suit?”) in the design department.

But the big part of paper mario is meant to be the charm about it. Even if the game is very stylistically different, it has to have a world and characters that were charming enough to remember. Look at one of the more controversial games in the paper mario universe at first, Super Paper Mario for the Wii. Even if you only meet the Pixls once you sure as hell remember the weird stuff they said before becoming a part of your team (my favorites being characters like Boomer, Fleep, and Cudge). Yet you really only have one kind of interaction with those characters. They had something silly that gave you a reason to remember them to some degree. You remember the one Koopa from Thousand Year door because of his fascination with Princess Peach yet there’s only really two scenes that involve that character (one of those just being a joke to make Bowser look like a fool). With Sticker Star I found myself only remembering the side-kick character and the fact I didn’t like her at all. With Color Splash there was more to it. I remember a scene in a train with Mario and all the Toads would take turns just berating you and inserting their problems on to you and you could LEGIT DIE FROM THAT. That’s such a hilarious scene and you remember those toads despite all of them having the same design.(Especially the one toad who said his wife left him like WHAT) Having big designs to a game is important, but the big thing is that the characters are memorable and fun. Which i’m very much hoping for with these team members despite them just looking like regular enemies.

Another thing that i’m hoping for is that the gaming style that they present to us in the previously mentioned video is that it’s fun. I’m admittedly anxious about how the bosses will play out and how fun that will be, but I DO find the matching mechanic new but simple (That’s not a bad thing). It helps mario in battle and it’s just a neat little mechanic. The problem in certain things sound better on paper (unintentional joke). I hate Sticker Star but the idea of collecting your arsenal or special moves being based on actual 3d objects I don’t think is particularly a bad one. In my opinion it was just poorly handled and deserved to be styled different. Maybe even be in a separate series with its own mechanics and world. The way everything became JUST about the stickers though was tiring! I would’ve saved it for some sort of way to enhance your moves or something (I’m not a game designer though or much of a critic, just a gal who likes paper mario). Sticker Star’s battle system made you want to AVOID battles as much as possible, because they were tedious and just wasted stickers you couldn’t get back potentially. Color splash was decent enough but still didn’t have a fun enough mechanic to stick to most people. It doesn’t always need to be a turn styled RPG (As we’ve seen with SUPER PAPER MARIO. That game played as a Action RPG mixed with a platformer esc world. While that game isn’t perfect in what it did, it wasn’t a chore to play and at times could be really fun.). but it does need to be fun/

I’m curious to see how the side stuff will work out too like toads and minigames. I think the toads could be a interesting concept and the fact they can help it battle works as a motivation to collect them.

But anyway here’s a big ass list for some hopes and discussion of Origami King

#paper mario #paper mario the origami king

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nexstrik · 5 years

Text

Chiaroscuro (LOZ: Twilight Princess)

A/N: Written for Sass :)

Summary: Zelda and Link learn how to talk to each other. They paint a picture of someone they miss.

Warnings: None! Enjoy this safe-for-work story.

You can also read this story on AO3.

There was time enough for things to return to how they always were. There'd always been time, really, except for that one brief period in his life where the world turned upside. It was strange to think about. All the wondrous and the bizarre, the occult and the terrifying, had only occurred over the span of a few short months.

Link's life stretched out, time hazy like roads in the summer. Hot stones warped the air, mirages making the distance glitter like an oasis in the desert. Enough heat made the world look wet. Maybe just a trick of the eye to give the body some relief. Enough monotony makes the familiar feel crushing. Maybe just his instincts itching for another fight, any other fight, to kickstart his heart again.

All the years the future held yawned out before him, uncertain and vague. There was time enough for everything he ever wanted to do.

But his heart was humble, and mainly...

...He wanted some goats.

So Zelda bought him a few. She liked the idea, too.

Every other month she came and spent a few weeks with him. Of course he visited her too. Day trips to the castle with the saddlebags full of gifts. Fresh fruit from the trees. Bottles of wine, his first few attempts. Young wine, some of it painfully sweet. The citron trees on his property made some pretty delicious dry, pale yellow draughts, though. The kids insisted on writing letters to the princess, and of course Link carried them all.

And Link whittled a lot. He captured scenes from his daily life. At first it had been something to pass the time. He did not intend to give them to Zelda. He figured a princess could get finer carvings from anyone in the kingdom. But Zelda gasped in delight the first time she saw what he was working on in his idle hours. She demanded he finish, and he produced a jagged little bear, off-shape and poorly proportioned.

Zelda had a shelf next to her bed and lined it with small animals, from his first crude attempts to the current ones. When he realized Zelda intended to keep all of them, Link doubled down on his attempts to make them prettier.

He motioned her closer, a flutter of fingertips. His hands stained black with ink because he'd been helping her with paperwork all day. It reminded him of those days in the dirt, paws sinking into black earth, or hands covered in the black pitch of monster guts.

"Please throw that away," he rasped, the first words he'd said in at least sixteen months, and Zelda's laughter sounded like bells pealing.

The woefully misshapen little bear remained on her shelves. A point of pride, she said. His greatest mistake, he lamented, in notes and signs.

She offered to keep him in her palace guard. Her hero for all of time. Constant training. Fine armor. Respect. Recognition. A job. Good prospects if he wanted a spouse.

He said no. She asked why. He didn't answer, not just because he couldn't, but because he didn't want to.

Money? Treasures? What did he want?

Link rolled his eyes and showed her something else:

Once he had been out at night, seeking something akin to the days when he wore a wolf skin. The darkness was oppressive and the scents didn't tell any stories. Walking as a human when not even the moon hung in the sky was like trying to navigate with a cloth sack over your head. He tripped and fell and stumbled, literally, through rotting boards and clinging vines and knocked his head right against a thick wooden chest.

He cracked it open with his sword and reached inside and found old silk clothes, paper that had shredded to nothing, and a dim medallion. Taking it home, he polished it until it shone brightly.

Treasure, he could find anywhere. He didn't need the princess for that.

Then what did he need her for?

In the castle they had more paper than they knew what to do with, and so much ink a man could drown in it. So they wrote letters to each other, though they were only a room apart. Letters every night, exchanging words and thoughts and feelings.

Very few words were spoken aloud between them unless they were out on Link's farm. She wore simple cotton dresses and a wide-brimmed hat to protect her skin. Old habits. Grandmother had always been after her for sitting out in the sun too long. She sketched the plants and herbs and took notes and scientific observation. On the edge of the lake, she spread her skirts and settled down while he waded in calf-deep and started fishing for dinner.

"If you can't catch anything I am perfectly content with the vegetables you roasted," she called out after him.

His broad shoulders went a little straighter. No words were needed; he solidly ignored her and cast another line, letting her know that he would catch dinner or die trying.

He'd left his knife with her. It rested on her lap along with a block of solid wood. Earlier in the morning he'd given her a quick lesson. His hands had curved over hers, showing her the grain and where to follow. If she looked closely enough she could see the shape hiding within the wood, aching to be released. A wolf, if her hands were nimble enough.

The shavings piled up around her as her clumsy first attempts resulted in a stiff-legged monstrosity. Link returned to shore with a grimly smug expression and three fat trouts. He beat his chest with one fist. I return with sustenance! I provide! I am man! Hear me roar!

It all fell on deaf ears. She was too preoccupied with her rubbish wolf.

"It's awful," she said, covering her face with both hands and burning up.

Solidly, he disagreed, and pocketed the little carving. When they went back to his house he set it on a shelf by his bed, looking over his shoulder and smiling at her.

What did he need her for?

In Zelda's castle they spoke through art and ink again. There was so much she wanted to share with him, and now, now finally there was time. Time and no danger. The blues and greens spoke to him. As she suspected, an artist's heart shone through the steel and grease and animal fat.

"How abstract," she said, and then taught him about chiaroscuro.

Link's eyes went ablaze with determination, fiery and powerful, and everything about the paintings and the carvings radically shifted. Ink and charcoal bilious and slick, covering him to the wrists and smudged on his cheek in an idle moment of concentration. He showed her the places they only visited in dreams. The other side of the coin, the flipside of the mirror.

Presenting it to her, he always accepted commentary with grace. Of course she loved everything he did, but as he developed, he started asking for her to cut him with real criticism. That prompted her to ask why he assumed that she knew better than him. Art was deeply personal, after all.

"I can't tell you if it's good," she said. "It doesn't matter what I think."

"I don't care if it's good," he wrote back. "I want to know if you like it. That's more important to me."

Zelda took another look at the painting. Black, white, gray. Link moved away from the pastoral, perfectly detailed renditions of his home town. He had started straying into the things that really dwelled in his heart.

He drew a shape as seen from the corner of one eye, a glinting smile and red hair. Two vivid sundrops of color, toxic yellow eyes with burning irises.

"She's beautiful," Zelda said. "It's all beautiful."

Sometimes it was. Other times it was grotesque. But it was always a relief, the way a lanced boil lessens all that tight, hot pain and pressure.

One evening she kissed his cheek goodnight, stopping only when he grabbed her hand and yanked her a little closer. He frowned as he kissed the back of her palm. It blazed a path up every inch of her veins, sparking up the side of her neck and tingling all over her scalp. She went to bed wondering if she could ignore it or if maybe it was time to stop pretending she didn't desperately want to know why he needed her. Because she definitely knew why she wanted him.

In his cottage on the farm there was less room for decency and more room on his bed, though the first time she fell asleep there had been an accident. They had been talking and the next thing she knew she was listening to his heart, wound tightly in his arms, protected.

"Why do you desire my company?" she asked once, not out of insecurity but because she needed to know his intents.

"I can't just like being around you?" he responded, before tickling her nose with the end of his quill. No one else would have dared. "You're my friend."

Then his throat tightened, bobbing with strain.

"You're the only one who remembers her," he said.

The rest was clear enough in everything he made. Midna was always there in his shadows, in every step he took. Zelda did understand. She he felt Midna's presence in everything. In the length of her silhouette. In the sharp points the sun cast on the ground when it hit the tip of her crown.

Zelda laced their fingers together.

The lake rested, placid, buzzing with insects. Soon the leaves would change and the real darkness take hold. Longer nights and shorter mornings. Soon there'd be one more year between them and that brief stretch of time when the worlds could have fused together, but they didn't.

The sun was at their backs, slowly sinking down over the mountains. The winds would whip them down to their bones soon, if they stayed outside. But they waited until their shadows stretched long and thin as smoke trails in the sky. Then the night swallowed them entire.

"She's always here, Link," Zelda assured him. One nail carved a path up the veins on his arm, up to his heart. "She'll always be with us."

"Sometimes... I can't... remember... her voice," he admitted, haltingly, in shame, his voice rusted from disuse. "Her face."

"Then let's go look at her," she suggested, fingers twisting at the lamp they'd brought out with them. A flame burned, and she led him into his cottage. There hung one of the paintings they'd worked on together. Each of them worked to fill the gaps where the other faltered. Both of them affixed the image of the twilight queen somewhere memory couldn't fade.

He sat with his head on her shoulder, eyes fixed to the painting, to the carvings on the shelves. They took their time contemplating it, in silence. They had all the time in the world, now,

She dared a little more illumination, brightening the room.

After all, you couldn't see your shadow in the dark.

#Legend of Zelda #twilight princess #fanfiction

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neverendingparable · 5 years

Note

💞

Send 💞 for a awkward kiss // written for that only once previously mentioned AU where Stellan is an intergalatic officer trying and failing to catch the time-and-space criminal Neil de Grammont

The intergalactic prisons were his least favorite place inthe entire Universe. They were as sad as they were dreary, as dreary as theywere disturbing and Stellan hated every corner of the stuffy, foul scented jailcomplex.

This one was particulary nasty.

It was loud too, prisoners yelling, begging, and cursing outguards who gruffly reprimanded them with harsh words or tasers if they got toorowdy.

Honestly, he couldn’t understand why his bosses couldn’tjust send a vehicle in to deliver the newest captive to the better, more securesister system a few galaxies away.

This needs to be apriority! He insisted to a bored guard, who gave Stellan’s capture astoic look like he couldn’t care less.

A newcomer perhaps, who didn’t understand the severity ofthe situation.

Either way it was infuriating - not only was he bringing ina dangerous and intelligent criminal who could easily pick his wayout of a cell block blind if someone wasn’t constantly watching, but everyone’shabits of blowing off the arrest was also undermining Stellan’s hard efforts oftrying to capture the infamous Cornelius de Grammont for these past few months.

During their little cat-and-mouse chase, Stellan became morefamiliar with the pirate’s tactics than he would’ve liked. They were exceedinglycunning - but apparently, as Neil lacked the intimidating vibes of bigger and moresenselessly violent prisoners here, the guards didn’t seem to care much,despite the crimes pinned to his name.

Sure he could just travel on, but it would take far too manyhours to get Neil to the other galaxy. And he was tired, which is why he didn’ttrust himself to fly alone with the pirate. (Not to mention after listening tothe smart-ass ceaselessly mock him the entire flight over, he was ready to dosomething drastic to get him to shut up. All in all, he was tired, pissed, andon edge. Something Neil would use for his advantage)

“I need the strongest cell you have free. We’re goingto be flying in the morning again and I need to put him somewhere safe until then.”Stellan insisted.

The guard grunted and half heartedly turned to check whatplaces were still free. His bored nonchalance and the feeling of Neil smirkingbeside him grated on Stellan’s nerves, but he bit his tongue.

“Floor C Cell 5G.” The guard muttered and slid theofficer a bundle of keys. He then picked up his comic book again and made aneffort to ignore the duo.

“Is it secure enough?” Stellan tried again, andgot another grunt as a reply.

“That sure sounds promising,” Neil taunted, thesmirk unwavering on his face.

“Shut up and get moving.” Stellan jabbed him hard in the sidewith his gun, ushering his captive off to the nearby elevators.

Of all the shittyprison complexes I have to be stuck in, he thought bitterly as they rode upto Floor C in silence.

Well no matter. What’s important is that I finally have him. Let’s hope this shitty place can secure him for afew hours while I get some sleep…..

A creeping dread had crawled up Stellan’s spine and itsettled there comfortably when they entered the cell block Neil was supposed tostay in.

The protections were good, recently upgraded by the GalacticFederal Agencies to enhance security in the cells. The only problem was thatStellan had already placed Neil behind these models once and the pirate got outin under an hour, halfway to another galaxy before Stellan was notified. And hehad just been gone for a cup of coffee then.

He cursed angrily to himself, much to Neil’s amusement, butbefore he could make another comment on Stel’s inevitable failures, the officerhad shoved him in and handcuffed to the set of chains waiting there.

“Ouuch. Hey!”Neil complained, and there was a hint of aggravation in his voice, obviouslytired of being pushed and shoved around.

Stellan couldn’t care less at this point. He was annoyedhimself that he’d have to play babysitter and then risk flying on sleepdeprivation just to get this nuisance to a proper cell.

He sat down on the hard metal stool opposite of the cell sohe could watch Neil. The pirate shifted around, trying to get comfortable inhis terribly uncomfortable position.

Fortunately, he didn’t attempt furtherconversation with Stellan for the time being. Perhaps he felt insulted after beingtossed around like a cheap toy. Not that Stel cared, any minute spentwithout hearing that smug mockery is a minute he could spend in peace.

The time passed by slowly, punctuated with occasionalscreams or bangs from inmates nearby. As far as Stellan was aware, this wasn’ta torture prison, but its inhabitants were incredibly unstable. Prisoners hadto be chained up to avoid hurting themselves or guards. It felt more like acliché mental hospital than a federal jail.

Another reason it was so out of place to be here. Neilwasn’t insane - unstable, yes, but not crazy. Stellan had caught him for shortperiods of time often enough to have sometimes found a high dosis of toxic substancesin his bloodstream.

These were the flipsides to Neil’s smug facades. SidesStellan liked even less than his I-know-things-you-don’tsmirks. Sometimes he seemed exhausted with the world, so bitter and Stellanwould wonder if there was some truth to his story.

He didn’t put it past Neil to come up with a heart wrenchingbackstory just to evoke pity in the people who meant to capture him, but therewere moments when it seemed too real to be a facade.

For the sake of his own sanity, Stellan chose to mark Neilas an extremely good liar and call it done. Maybe he had loved his partner-in-crime, Phobos. Maybe there was more to thewhole story than the police knew - but it wasn’t Stellan’s business. All he hadto do - and wanted to do - was to make the galaxy safer for the innocentcivilians who lived there. And Neil was a threat to that safety, making him fitfor serving time in a cold and smelly cell.

Stellan’s mood brightened a bit when he caught hold of afellow officer via his comms, Franziska Meier, who listened to his dilemma and thenagreed to fly out early in the morning and help Stellan transport Neil off. Atleast then he could catch some shut eye. And four pairs of eyes were betterthan one. Not to mention that Franzi was quite the capable officer, severalyears older than Stellan and with twice as much experience.

The sound of quiet rustling snapped him out of his thoughtsand he looked up. Neil was still behind bars, still tied up, but he wasshifting around.

Suspicious.

“Quiet down over there.” Stellan snapped, placinghis communicator away.

“I can’t help it, Sommers,” was the response.“You try standing here in chains, it’s fucking uncomfortable.”

“It’s nothing to what you’re going to have to enduretomorrow. Maybe if you wouldn’t have threatened the safety of millions ofinnocent people with your time-breaking shenanigans, you wouldn’t be here in anuncomfortable cell.”

Neil was quiet. When Stellan spared a glance in hisdirection, he found the blonde watching him, an unreadable expression on hisface.

“Those millions of innocent people would be deadalready if it weren’t for me.” He said.

Stellan rolled his eyes. “Suuuure. You’re just misunderstood and poor and we’re all evilmonsters for chasing the Anti-Hero™ when he’s just trying to do good.”

“No,” Neil interjected. “You’re justmorons.”

“Whatever. Save your sob stories. You’re going to getwhat you deserve.”

Why did it always come back to these conversations? Did hebelieve his lies so hard or did he consider Stellan for so dumb to actually buythem?

“I’m not lying. Go on, pull out a lie detector,Sommers. See it for yourself.”

“No.”

“You’re afraid of the truth, aren’t you~?” Neilshifted and now he was smirking again, a knowing look on his face.

Stellan wished he could reach through the bars and smack thatlook right off.

“There’s no truth, you’re not a damn victim. You’re a wantedtime-and-space criminal that not only put people’s lives in danger with yourjumping around, you also broke into several top secret bases and stole confidentialinformation-”

Neil snorted.

“-and you have been associated with several Rick Sanchezs,who are hunted just as well. Not to mention your apparent partner-in-crimePhobos.”

“We’re not partners.” The shift was instant, backto that cold tone Neil took on whenever that name was mentioned.

“And yet he seemed to think so,” Stellan shotback. “You two have a history together, that much I know.”

His phone buzzed and he glanced down to see another messagefrom Franziska coming in. Idly, he replied as he continued.

“Dimensions were destroyed because of you. He enslavedpeople and wanted you to be part of his reign. Don’t try to trick me with yourlies, de Grammont. I’m not as gullible as you think.”

“Actually~”

Stellan’s blood ran cold.

“You kinda are. Dummy.”

The voice wasn’t coming from the other side of the room anymore.Too late Stellan realized that Neil’s ‘uncomfortable’ shifting and idle babblewas once again just a distraction tactic while he picked the locks.

Shit.

He could kick himself for being so careless and reached forhis gun at the same time Neil grabbed his phone away from him.

A moment of confusion ensured. Stellan refused to let goinstead of just drawing his weapon and was tugged up with Neil, who at the sametime leaned in to yank the gun away as well.

Their heads collided painfully with each other. Stellan fellforward, trying to grab hold of something and ended up with a fist full ofNeil’s shirt instead.

They tumbled to the floor in a series of curses and onceagain, their heads banged together

The world stood shock still. Stellan lay awkwardly on top ofthe taller man, a fist curled in his clothes. One of Neil’s hands rested on thesmall of his back, the other still reaching for the gun, which lay a few feetaway.

Neither moved for the longest two seconds in theMultiverse.

“…….”

“………………..”

Neil was the first one to move and Stellan followed suit,but he was unarmed and before he could make another lunge for the weapon, hehad gotten a hard knock to his head, making him see stars and forcing him tohis knees.

Once his vision had cleared, the comms had been smashed andNeil was gone, Stellan’s weapons along with him.

Shit, shit, shit!

He struggled to his feet and stumbled out clumsily, yellingthat there was a prisoner free and on the run.

“Shut down all routes immediately!” He shouted tothe baffled guards. But before anyone could move to action, the last glimpsesof long blonde hair disappeared into thin air.

#curiouscompanions #this turned into a mini novel and im sorry #steneil #ok #i forgot the tag #umm #pirate/cop au #space pirate #i might have gotten some things wrong in the phobs-neil story #but yeah stellan believes that neils backstory is a lie #and that he worked with phobos #long post

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todobaku-shoukat · 6 years

Text

Boku No Toddler Academia (23/?)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712765/chapters/34069866

The wonders of computer games.

The toddler’s martial arts training ends as lunch is ready, the tired children ravenous after the workout. They readily devour their lunch, filling their hungry bellies so that they can rest up with their afternoon nap. The toddlers fall asleep as soon as they settle into their futons, while Bakugou continues his search for things to do. All of a sudden, there’s a knock on the door.

That’s strange, Bakugou thinks. Who would be knocking at their dorm doors at this time? The teachers have the access code… Could it be… Villains? No, Bakugou thinks as he shakes his head to himself. Villains don’t knock. Besides, the school’s security has been increased since the previous incident. Except… There have been many incidents where the villains broke in despite the “increase in security”. It is possible that the villains may have slipped through the security and are knocking to throw him off? Perhaps they couldn’t get into the dorms since Kurogiri has been toddlerised, and are hoping to catch them off-guard?

Bakugou is thinking through the different possibilities and what course of action he should take when he hears, “Aren’t you going to open the door, Grumpy Cat? I’ve gotta go back to my own super cute babies, ya know?”

With Toga also toddlerised, the chances of it being a villain pretending to be Hatsume is slim. Nonetheless, Bakugou is still wary.

“Come on, Grumpy Cat! If you don’t open the door, I’m going to tell All Might about what you did in order to get his –” Hatsume shouts through the door.

“Shut up!” Bakugou interrupts, opening the door with more force than necessary.

“Ah. There he is.” Hatsume teases. “Aren’t you a shy little grumps?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tech-Creep!” Bakugou flushes in embarrassment. “The kids are sleeping!”

“Oh my, but aren’t you being noisier than me?” Hatsume replies cheekily.

Glaring at the other, Bakugou whispers back angrily, “The fuck do you want?”

“No need to be so hostile now, Grumpy Cat. Here. This is for the toddlers.” Hatsume says as she dumps a laptop case into Bakugou’s hands. “You said they were bored, right? This is my old laptop. It’s USB ports are dead and so’s the earphone jack but other than that, it’s still working. But I’m not using it anymore so I thought maybe the kids can have it. I’ve still got a lot of games installed on it and its got the internet so I’m sure it’ll amuse them. No worries though, I’ve childproof the internet. Aren’t you thankful?”

Bakugou is indeed touched, “Thanks…”

“Well if you’re thankful, then lend me one of your babies for a photoshoot with my own super cute babies, yeah? I’ve gotta go now, bye bye!” With that, Hatsume disappears before Bakugou can protest.

Fuck, Bakugou thinks as he trudges back in with the laptop in hand. He couldn’t believe he actually thought that Hatsume didn’t have a hidden agenda. He’d have to find a way to blow her off later. Once he is back with the toddlers, Bakugou opens the laptop Hatsume gave them. He is curious as to what computer games there are that got the toddlers so excited. Bakugou had heard that pinball is fun, but he never had it on his computer. Browsing through the games on the laptop, Bakugou is surprised to see so many games. He was never one for games, eyes fixed on being the number one hero. Bakugou didn’t really see the appeal. Nonetheless, he randomly picks a game, wondering what’s so fun about computer games.

It ends up being a game about feeding fishes while fighting invading aliens. Bakugou didn’t understand how or why an alien would invade a fish tank, lazily feeding the fishes and zapping the aliens. There is no way the kids would be amused by this, Bakugou thinks. Even solitaire is better than this. Sighing, Bakugou put the laptop aside and continues his research.

The children yawn tiredly, rubbing the sleep from their eyes when they wake from their afternoon nap. They are still a little sleepy, until Kaminari sees the computer.

“Can we play computer games now?” Kaminari asks excitedly. Hearing this, the other toddlers immediately perked up.

“I guess?” Bakugou replies. He still hasn’t found an alternative yet, so he can only hope the toddlers would be distracted by the games even if for a while.

“Let’s play Flipside!” Kaminari says making grabby hands at the computer.

“Keep your futons properly first,” Bakugou replies and the toddlers get straight to work. On the other hand, Bakugou searches for the game on the computer. “This comp doesn’t have that game.”

“It’s on the internet!” Kaminari says, running up to Bakugou after putting his futon away. Bakugou turns the laptop to the other, watching as Kaminari finds the game online with ease.

“Let me play with you!” Sero chirps and the two begin to play. Once they are done with the own futons, the other toddlers come over to watch them play.

“I can’t see the screen,” Satou says and the other toddlers agree.

“Hold on,” Bakugou says, waiting for the two to finish the round before projecting the screen to the television.

“I want to play too!”

“Alright. Everyone gets a turn, yeah?” Bakugou tells the toddlers who nod in response.

“Can I go next?” Asui asks. “I want to play Club Penguin!”

“Tsuyu-chan! You have a Club Penguin account too?” Yaoyorozu asks. “Oh right! I have to feed my Peach-san!”

“Peach-san?”

“Peach-san is my Puffle! It’s a pink one and it is very cute!” Yaoyorozu replies. Bakugou is confused, to say the least. But he’s not the only one.

“Eh? It’s not there…” Asui says as she leans in closer to the screen, hoping that it will help her find the game.

“Not there?” Yaoyoruzu repeats worriedly. “Let me try!”

Asui turns the computer over to Yaoyorozu who types in ‘Club Penguin’ into the search engine. What the two girls find is tragic news.

“No… This can’t be true! Club Penguin has shut down? No way! My Peach-san… My friends… If it’s shut down… Does it mean they’re all dead?” Yaoyorozu asks, horror-stricken.

“Dead? No… My Kero-chan!” Asui says before she starts crying with Yaoyorozu.

“… Now, now… No crying, alright? It’s just a game. Crying children don’t get hugs, you know.” Bakugou tries to comfort the crying toddlers but to no avail. “There, there. Mama’s here. Surely I’m better than that game.”

“Mama!” The two girls cry before clinging to the front of Bakugou’s shirt. Sighing, Bakugou hugs the toddlers as they sniffle. Catching Todoroki and Shigaraki opening their mouths, ready to cry, Bakugou opens his arms and allows the other toddlers to come. There was no point trying to escape the inevitable.

“Yay! Group hug!” Kirishima shouts and the other toddlers cheer as they join the hug.

When Yaoyorozu and Asui stop crying, Bakugou ends the group hug. “Alright then, who’s going next?”

“Me!” Ashido says, searching for her game. “Eh? It’s not here… How is it not here?”

Great, Bakugou thinks. Hopefully, Ashido won’t cry as well.

“I can’t find anything! It doesn't say that it shut down…” Ashido pouts.

“Come here. Let someone else go first, yeah? I’ll see if I can find it.” Bakugou says, taking out his phone.

Satou goes next, playing a cooking game while Bakugou searches for information about Ashido’s game. From the comments section of an old tutorial of the game, Bakugou finally finds the game. Turn out it had a name change. Analysing the change in name, Bakugou wonders how the samurai became a ninja and why he lost his name. Shrugging, Bakugou returns his attention to the children.

The other toddlers and their turn at the computer continues without any more concern until Toga’s turn.

“Oriental flirting game?” Bakugou reads the name of the game as Toga types it into the search engine. Bakugou is rather concerned. It didn’t seem like a game appropriate for toddlers.

“Yup! I find servants!” Toga says and Bakugou can only raise an eyebrow in response. But watching Toga play the game, Bakugou begins to understand.

A really inappropriate game appears when its Mineta’s turn and Bakugou isn’t even surprised. Scolding the boy sternly, Bakugou wonders why such games even exist. Watching the toddlers play their games, Bakugou still doesn’t see the appeal. But nonetheless, he’s glad that the toddlers are enjoying them. Perhaps getting them a computer was the answer.

#bnta #fanfic #bnha #bakugou katsuki

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kingsofchaos · 7 years

Note

What do you think it would be like of the fakes got arrested (probably at different times cause they are better than that) and got psych evaluations. The police would probably get even more of an realization that they are freakin monsters. (If you could somehow maybe put freewood in that would make me very happy, but you don't have to if you don't want) ALSO I LOVE YOUR BLOG!!!!

THANKS FRIEND! That makes me feel way worse for what i’m about to do but apologies i’m not super comfortable playing around with psychological evaluations, sorry to disappoint! In lieu i offer you a bit of a more generic, though infinitely more melodramatic, insight into that one time the cops got their hands on Ryan and Gavin then instantly wished they hadn’t.

To get the Vagabond and Free in custody, to not only pin them down but catch them without killing them in the process, is more or less a goddamn miracle and everybody knew it. There’s a weird energy amongst the LSPD officers, half smug pride at the triumph, half quiet terror at what comes next.The entire journey back to the station is fraught with tension, the completely legitimate fear that the Fake AH Crew may come for their own keeping everyone on high alert. It doesn’t help that despite the fact that there’s no way it could be possible Free and the Vagabond are acting like getting arrested was their intention, like everything is going according to plan. As relaxed as two handcuffed men surrounded by armed officers can possibly be they’ve ignored all demands to shut their mouths in favour of critiquing how well they think everything has been going so far.Ryan asks for the time any chance he gets, responding to each update with a pleased grin so unsettling that officers begin to refuse to answer. In response Ryan has taken to humming a quiet tick tock tick tock tick tock under his breath while he stares them down.The less said about the transfer between van and station the better. Six officers swarm around the Vagabond while only one moves to escort Free, a choice that leaves Ryan shaking his head in utter disbelief and Gavin smirking away like the cat who caught the canary. He leers all over his increasingly uncomfortable guard while Ryan is yanked roughly to his feet and pushed out of the van, followed moments later by a grunt and a scream as Ryan is tazed without provocation and Gavin’s new friend loses a chunk of his arm to that sharp grin. It’s a traumatising experience across the board.By the time Ryan’s head clears they’ve already dragged him into the station, frogmarching him towards an intake room, with Gavin somewhere behind him making lewd comments about the muzzle he’s apparently been threatened with. Shifting to take his own weight has all the officers around Ryan stiffening, but all he does is ask for the time, chortling to himself at the way it makes them flinch.The weapons pat-down is rough. Even the cops know Gavin’s not really in the hands-on half of the crew, aren’t expecting much more than maybe a knife or two, certainly aren’t expecting the arsenal they uncover. Gavin has knives in his pant pockets and shirt pockets and jacket pockets, he has knives in his belt, tucked into his shoe, sewn into linings. There’s so many knives the officers quickly roll from smug superiority into increasing alarm; it borders on comical, on intentional, and Free’s careless grin only grows. Ryan though, god. On Ryan they find nothing, not a gun, not a knife, not even wire or nail-file; absolutely nothing. It should be a relief but it isn’t, how can it be when there’s no way the Vagabond is actually unarmed? When history has taught them that they surely must have missed something. Ryan bears the increasingly frustrated search with exaggerated compliancy, lips twitching in amusement as Gavin sniggers beside him, the mercenary entirely unresisting yet still exuding an insufferable degree of cheerful insolence.When one man tries to get a rise out of him by sneering out some less than savoury comments about Gavin and his prison prospects the whole room holds its breath, bracing for a sudden act of unstoppable violence, but it doesn’t come. Instead, after a long tense moment of Ryan staring the man directly in the eye, it’s Gavin who breaks the silence, shaking his head and looking far too pleased as he shrugs and sends chills down spines with a cavalier ‘Well that was rude. I do hope your affairs are in order, this one’s really rather overprotective.’ The extended weapons frisk is declared over rather quickly after that.The pair are placed in cells on opposite ends of the station’s holding bay; with walls and doors between them there is absolutely no way legible sound could possible travel between the two. To the disturbed awe of an increasing crowd of officers watching and listening over the cctv the pair proceeded to have a complete conversation at normal talking volume anyway; speaking and responding as though they can hear one another, with appropriate pauses and logical replies, never acknowledging that anything is out of the ordinary. It’s alarming enough that they are frisked again on their way to separate interrogation rooms but no hidden transmitters are found and no one has any idea how on earth they were doing it.You don’t go into an interrogation room armed, that’s just police policy 101, but particular precautions are certainly made for members of the FAHC. Ryan is just about as chained as he could be, handcuffs locked to the table, leg cuffs chained to the floor, and still, as long as there are detectives in the room with him two heavily armed guards will wait just outside the door for the first sign of trouble. On the flipside Gavin, whose teeth are still stained red, bears only handcuffs and a delighted grin. There are no armed guards, the detectives have no fear about leaning into his space, but after the first few are left shell-shocked with their personal secrets dragged into the light there is a serious discussion about getting the LSPD’s in-house psychologist on standby.For the first half of Ryan’s interrogation he says nothing at all. The detectives, all over the moon about finally nabbing the Vagabond, all desperate to show they’re the one who can crack him, throw just about every interrogation trick in the book at him and Ryan just watches on calm as you please, only moving to look up at the clock on the wall. When at last he does open his mouth the relief is short-lived; carefully meandering around confessions Ryan talks in hypotheticals and television plotlines, discussing supposedly fictional violence in such vivid detail his interviewers start looking a little green. It’s quite a talent, to balance technical innocence with an undercurrent of undeniably remorseless responsibility, all while casually discussing the fascinating sounds humans make when they are pulled apart. In another room Gavin slouches in his metal chair like it’s a throne, like the worst kind of entitled, like the grown-up version of the trust-fund baby sneering at the principle’s threat of discipline, utterly untouchable and he knows it. All grinning swagger Gavin asks the detectives if they’ve thought this through, if they know what they’re doing, how they think it’s going to end. He asks if they haven’t heard all those terrible rumours people have spread about his family, shares a few of his favourites, the darkest and most deplorable things people have said about the Vagabond. Isn’t it funny? Could you even imagine if the stories were true? If that was the kind of man you’d captured? Can you picture what he would do to you when he got free? And that’s saying nothing of Ramsey, have you heard what they say he’s done for his family? What he’d do for his son? Chilling stuff that, terrifying. Especially for someone like you, with kids at home. Someone who’d just gotten married, who has reliant parents, who’s sister’s about to have that baby. Wouldn’t it be awful huh? Aren’t you glad they’re only stories.It’s late by the time the detectives give up for the night, but there is an undeniable sense of relief in locking those two away again, in washing hands of those horrors for a couple of hours, going home to hug loved ones close and stave off technicolour nightmares. To kick things off at midnight is appallingly cliché, but things kick off a midnight. The station is never empty, particularly not when it’s housing criminals this high profile, but at midnight everything goes quiet. Still. Just long enough for every officer’s well-honed instincts to start blaring in alarm. And then the screaming starts.When the bigwigs try to piece it all together later even frantic reviews of security footage won’t reveal what happened. They see Gavin’s cell suddenly go dark, and when the light returns he’s gone. Changing angles there’s a flash of him wandering down the hall, utterly unhurried and blowing a winking kiss at the camera before it flickers out. When they find him again it’s on the camera outside the Vagabond’s cell, leaning through the bars and chattering away to the Mercenary looming on the other side as calmly as you please, like they’re playing instead of launching an escape.Free’s in no rush, waiting for his crew-mate to grab his collar and yank him into the bars before he laughs and shakes his way free, finally trotting over to unlock the door, unleashing the Vagabond into the hall. As Gavin turns to answer the phone he shouldn’t have the Vagabond looks up, directly at the lens, shaking his head as he points to an imaginary watch before flipping off the camera just before it, too, goes dark.From there the LSPD have only witness accounts to work with, tales from those who survived and those who came in after; the ones who saw the cavalcade of big black cars pulling up in front of the station just before everything went to hell, who didn’t have the chance to raise the alarm before the FAHC were raining bullets down on them. Those who had to clean blood from linoleum, tape up shattered windows, carry bodies to the morgue. Those who can no long bear the sound of clocks ticking, who swear they can still hear the echoes of that monstrous laughter. The ones who witnessed death slinking through the station in a leather jacket and designer jeans, who observed the birth of Los Santos’ newest horrifying rumour firsthand.

#FAHC #I'm really sorry #i know i have really bizarre undefined discomfort zones #100% know this ask is all in good criminal fun #but i'd hate to unintentionally make someone feel shitty #plus police evals are already shady as fuck tbh #(heyo law degree)#Sorry i didn't even really manage to swing freewood for you #hopefully some part of this farce tickled your fancy anyway #Anonymous #Ask #Loaded Guns and Sharp Teeth #There is No Order in This Lawless Town #Chaos Reigns

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