#I sent this to her and they sent me an audio clip of them growling lmao

[hoseoksactualass]

Could we pls get a smutty IE!jk and oc drabble?

hello and YES

this is also @taespired‘s idea she be my queen since we were 16 we want the same things we dream the same dreams alright take it away zayn

where jk is in a (boring) meeting, and a homebound oc sends him v important photos during 

Jungkook has a habit of drawing T-minus doodles on torpid meetings like this. For now, he does it with a phony smile on his face and makes it look like he actually cares. The interns’ eyes are glazed. More because he looks just as young as them and dashingly handsome than how overbearingly loud the internship coordinator is being right now. 

This was supposed to be over five minutes ago. He’s in the middle of drawing cat ears when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He makes it look calculated—the way he perks his head up, draws eye contact with an intern who couldn’t take her spec’d eyes off him, and purses his lips slightly. 

Secretary sent a message:

If you need me, I can still be over.

Sent 10:19 a.m.

He doesn’t stop the way the first thing he thinks of is what you might be wearing. The coordinator makes a joke everyone fake chuckles to. 

And like everything else, you will not have his head for it. You know he thinks of you at wee hours like this, and you take advantage of it, already hiking your booty shorts up your ass like you know how it’ll feel when he does it. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

if you call in sick you call in sick. dw about it 

Sent 10:20 a.m.

You can hear his voice through the message, and it’s instantly something you smirk to.  

Meanwhile, Jungkook already has a mental chant about you being the perfect distraction playing like a ruined record in his head. He nods at something that went in one ear and exited the other, humming in false agreement. He lowers his phone’s brightness simultaneously. 

Secretary sent a message:

Do the interns have life in their eyes?

Sent 10:21 a.m. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

an amusing amount i feel sick 

Sent 10:21 a.m.

You chuckle to it, roll on your back, but before your thumbs type away, the pending screen dings again. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

show me what you’re wearing 

Sent 10:22 a.m.

Then you’re off your shorts like you knew nothing of them, praying to lighting and an old thong to give you something you can nod to. For now, it’s a dim snap of your stomach down, shirt lazily tossed over the skin before a perceiver’s gaze will catch the strap of your thong hugging tight atop the curve of your hip. Not Pinterest-esque, but it’s honest work; it’s like you instantly know what Jungkook sounds like groaning to the sight. 

He smiles at the coordinator before dropping his gaze to his phone again, tucked under his table and the weight of the company, but now he couldn’t care less. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

woa shit im never used to it 

sexy

m

Sent 10:24 a.m.

The reminder to relax your body now that a camera isn’t pointing you doesn’t cross your mind. 

Secretary sent a message:

m?

Sent 10:24 a.m.

Jungkook finds himself giving advice he’s given millions of interns before, and it’s to keep a peeled eye. This goes for his board. His peers. It’s the emergency CEO talk he pulls out of his ass, but he knows everyone fawns over it, lowering his voice like he’s building an intimate rapport with the listeners. He’s still thinking about your skin. Keeps it brief, ends his attractive ment with something the coordinator can pick up on. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

that was my futile attempt to ask for more while i got called for advice 

be back later, i look suspicious 

Sent 10:26 a.m.

And it’s childish, but you always have a craving to divert his attention towards you. That’s the thrill, the sparkles in champagne, and when you down it and still walk in a straight line, you’re prideful. You’re an ace. And if you can juggle work and posing in front of a mirror with your teeth biting your shirt up, so be it. He’ll receive it and do something about it. That, you know. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

you

you minx

pls

save that for later

not noww

Sent 10:28 a.m.

You smile at it. It only makes you take a photo with your leg propped up your desk and your free hand teasing your inner thigh, enough so he’ll see more of your curves and lines despite the dim lighting that makes you look short on hemoglobin. 

He receives it with a bite to his lip, an itch to his loins. He tugs at his dress shirt lest he wants his interns eyeing at his nipples. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

_____ behave 

are you gonna listen or not

Sent 10:30 a.m.

You can hear him say it, let yourself feel his baritone ring at the seemings of your inner thighs. Then you take another photo, playful with your shirt draped all over your body enough that he has to make out your parts through the translucence of it, panties dangling by a teasing pointer. You don’t put text. Leave him with that raw photo, a prelude to complete nudity you’re sure he’ll hint at asking for.

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

gonna regret acting like that when i get to you baby 

if you wont let me sit through this meeting without a fucking hard on you have something coming to you 

Sent 10:32 a.m.

In his challenged unease, all he receives is a video this time. He flicks his phone’s ringer silent, and it vibrates in his palms. He clicks on it, 5 seconds of shit quality and you placing an arm over your splayed tits, shifting in bed as you had just propped yourself there. 

It’s trial for Jungkook not to make a growl at the back of his throat. But he’ll never stop to admit he fucking loves it. While an innocent intern is all eyes for him, he only has his for a secretary with a kink for hanging how hot she is over her boss’s head and making him eat it. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

later baby

pls

wait it out for me

Sent 10:34 a.m.

And he’s sure you won’t obey. He stares until you reply. 

Secretary sent a message:

Can’t.

Sent 10:34 a.m.

Within the span of time you know he waits for what you have in store, you fish for a box under your bed, grabbing the familiar texture you know too well of your bullet vibrator. Hot pink and all sorts of taunting when you send a clip of you ghosting the toy over your thighs and across. 

Jungkook waits a second before clicking on it, a breath held taught in his chest. 

He replays the video directly, eyes on for that second he gets a good look at your pussy. Replays it again with his thumb adjusting the player position so he could slow it himself. It’s his dick or his soul that jumps in his pants. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

fuck

Sent 10:35 a.m.

He’s typing, but you send a message before he can even proceed. 

Secretary sent a message:

If you’re hard, show me. 

Sent 10:35 a.m.

What you receive is a video. Rowdy with the intern coordinator’s voice and the rustle of the audio. His phone stills, and you see the strain of his thighs under navy blue dress pants, ascending enough so you see a prominent shadow bulging at his crotch. He has the audacity to squeeze at it, too, watch blinding at the sight. Your breath hitches. 

It’s nearly involuntary—how you press the vib harder, making your nerves frolic before you allow it to hover lightly over your skin again

Jungkook still has a gnawing fright for adjourning meetings he’s invited to sit through, so he sighs through the agony and makes sure no one hears. Thinking about what you must be doing to yourself. What you’re thinking. 

You have a lousy grip on your phone, a stupid front cam angle to show what you’re doing from the neck down. You huff a heavy breath and kick your hips like it’s script. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

fuckkkkkkk

i have to leave here

Sent 10:37 a.m.

You’re quick to play, corner him. 

Secretary sent a message:

If you don’t stay put, I’m not sending any more. 

Sent 10:37 a.m.

It’s like he hears your voice against his neck, telling him to sit his ass down and live with the shear in his Brionis. 

If Jungkook was the type of guy who would bust a nut over just about anything as much as Victorian men sexualized ankles, he’d lie to you and crawl to the bathroom of his office just to jerk it off. But he isn’t like that. Not close. He likes the tease, the tickle in his guts, the sound of your voice he conjures in his head with every text. 

Before he can get himself together, sit in a way his dick doesn’t poke at his zipper, his phone vibrates again. Another short clip. Back cam, sheets like a painting under your body, you rolling your hips against the toy. God, he wants to hear you; he feels his ears go red. 

Secretary sent a message:

Proof

You’re still in the meeting.,

Sent 10:39 a.m.

You get a selfie. It’s not proof, but he looks serious. And he looks hot. Exactly how you want him to look. Hair swept over crimson ears. Faking unfazed eyes. Then a video pops in. Same angle, but his eyes are directed somewhere in the room, scanning, reading, pretending to listen. Then a message. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

am i good at pretending i dont wanna fuck you so bad 

Sent 10:40 a.m.

You hum to that like a toast to the soft hum of the vibrator against you. You shut your eyes for a bit, sigh to the feeling boiling in your loins before your toes start to feel tickly and you’re kicking. 

Secretary sent a message:

So good, 

Sent 10:41 a.m.

You send a video too long. Front cam again this time. A stretch of you squirming and being unable to stay still, camera panning up for a few seconds to taunt him with the moans he won’t be able to hear, down again and showing how your hand ever so languidly motions the toy against where you’re pulsating for it. Your limbs are sweating, and it’s hotter where the sheets meet it. 

When Jungkook watches it, he presses down on his dick a bit, more unbothered than he could be about the fact probably everyone in the room has figured out his attention span is stretching nowhere towards them. He replays the part he sees your tits move with the heaving of your chest. Replays it again before replaying the part he sees how evidently wet you are. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

fuck holy shit

god

how good does that feel

describe it

Sent 10:42 a.m.

Secretary sent a message:

Feels

So tingly

Sent 10:42 a.m.

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

god yes

stay with me 

tell me more

show more

Sent 10:42 a.m.

There’s a vivid visual in your head, of his tight fist around his cock, too listless to take off his watch, a mess. Biting the hem of his dress shirt up lest he wants cum all over it, biting to keep quiet and another tight fist around his phone, flashing a playlist of all the media you’re sending in at this blessed hour. Your insides jump, tumble, then the sparkle on the surface of your skin follows. You make sure to film this bit, show him how your head’s restless, shaking from one side to another as if pushing an orgasm away. Then a separate clip for where he craves you. Your hips rolling against the toy, coaxing. 

Jungkook tries to look for a sign this meeting’s fucking ending in the coordinator’s eyes but to no avail. He replays the shit out of that second clip, wondering how wet that’d feel against him. His dick aches. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

so wet 

do you enjoy this

making me harder than anyone could ever

in the middle of a meeting

Sent 10:44 a.m.

He knows what he’s doing, feeding your kinks like that, making your eyes roll into your head. You want to lose yourself in it, but it’s never as much as how much you want to stretch out the anguish of being nothing but witness to your bliss for him. 

Secretary sent a message:

Want to cum. 

Sent 10:46 a.m.

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

do it

show me

gonna stroke my cock to it later

Sent 10:46 a.m.

At this point, he’s not even looking up, in heated anticipation for that One Thing he knows is coming. He feels himself throbbing, wishes he could make you feel it, but for now, he’ll let you bathe in it. 

2 minutes and nothing, leaving him with a clean slate and your previous ministrations to imagine what your body looks like. How you sound. How you roll your hips, cry his name or something along the lines of Sir and throw his last name in, how you veer the vib away from your cunt unless you want your body spasming into nothing. Laboured breathing. A smile. 

He gets the video, obsesses over it until the interns are rustling into a stand, ready to mark their thanks and congratulations before he could even take his eyes off you. 

Mr. Jeon — Jeon Corp. sent a message:

motherfuck _____

fuckmeetings over 

brb

Sent 10:48 a.m.

Along with the boring connotation of a brb, you get two clips ten minutes succeeding your orgasm. First video is a lazy front cam, exactly how you pictured, bringing the hem of his shirt to his teeth, hair falling over his eyes, all the other lights but one switched off. The screen flips, and he’s undoing his belt, a palpable bulge where you know it is. 

The second video is unstable; his belt almost rattling to how hard he pumps himself, and you hear him straining. Then it’s cum and tattered breaths. 

You have a second orgasm that morning. 

#this took forever #ie #ask:ie #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #bts drabble #bts smut #bts imagine #bts scenario #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts

[rawralittlerawr]

So this is happening in my town right now-PLEASE SHARE!

Scott Taylor, ABC7 Thursday, February 7th 2019

Disturbing audio recording made inside an elementary school classroom in West Virginia.

BERKELEY COUNTY, W.Va. (WJLA) — A hidden recording device in a special education classroom is raising alarming questions about what went on inside a classroom at an elementary school in Berkeley County, West Virginia. A warning: What you are about to read is disturbing.

Instructor #1: "I ought to back hand you right in your teeth. How is that for anxiety?"

According to parents, that's a secret audio recording of an instructor talking to children inside a special education class at Berkeley Heights Elementary School in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Amber Pack sent her 8-year-old daughter to class with a recording device after the child didn't want to go back to school. (WJLA)

Instructor #1: "This one I could punch her right in her face."

Instructor #2: "You got to go pee-pee? Pee-pee? Or do you not have to go pee-pee and you just want to go jack off in a chair?" There's more:

Instructor #2: "I'm going to pull your hair until you start crying."

Instructor #3: "Don't throw it. Don't throw. You animal you."

Instructor #2: "Yep. You wench." Instructor #2: "You're like a pygmy. You're like a pygmy thing."

The next day Pack alerted the school district and the Martinsburg Police Department. "Do you think this has been going on for a while?” asked I-Team Reporter Scott Taylor. "Yes. That was the first day I put the recorder in her hair,” says Amber Pack. "One day you recorded all of this?" says Scott Taylor. "One day. Eight hours,” adds Amber Pack. You can hear the instructors sometimes singing songs and reading stories to students and other times:

Instructor #2: “How your tears dried up so quickly crocodile.”

Instructor #3: “And then she wants to destroy everything in sight.”

Instructor #2: "I'm a knock you out."

"I couldn't eat for three days. My stomach. I was so upset. Every time I looked at her I would start crying,” says Amber Pack. Kasey Murphy who's six-year old son, Owen, is in the same class says during a late October parents-teacher conference nobody alerted her to the recording even though Pack had already handed it over to the school district. Kasey Murphy's six-year-old son, Owen, is in the same class. (Photo: WJLA) "I've never heard from the principal. Never heard from the Superintendent. I've never heard from any of them,” says Murphy. It wasn't until November after Pack posted a clip of the recording on Facebook that Murphy became aware of it.

Instructor #2: "I am gonna beat your butt for sure and Owen you're gonna get one just just cause."

"It's sickening. People don't even talk to animals like that and they are talking to non-verbal children who don't understand why they are talking to them like that. They aren't doing anything wrong,” adds Kasey Murphy. On the recording, you can hear the instructors tease and refuse to give Owen food.

Instructor #1: "Growl at me. I dare you and you won't get one. Go ahead. There is nothing says I have to give you a snack. Nothing."

Instructor #2: "Looks like you get nothing Owen. Ha ha. Sorry buddy.'

The Berkeley County Prosecutor's Office found no criminal wrong doing but County Prosecutor Catie Wilkes Delligatti told both mothers in a letter “I am not in any way condoning the verbal treatment of your children by the individuals in the classroom”. Right now, all 3 instructors are on paid administrative leave. "I don't understand why you treated her the way you treated her. She didn't deserve that. No kid does,” says Amber Pack. The School District, which declined multiple interview requests, is still investigating and says State law prevents it from sharing information. The Civil Rights Office of the U.S. Department of Education just opened its own investigation.

*I AM SO DISGUSTED AND DISSAPOINTED WITH THE OFFICIALS IN MY TOWN RIGHT NOW!

PLEASE SHARE!! WE NEED TO MAKE THIS GO VIRAL!!

THESE CHILDREN NEED A VOICE TO SPEAK FOR THEM!! I TRIED TO POST THE ENTIRE STORY WITH NEWS VIDEO FROM THE APP AND IT WOULDN'T LET ME. SO I WILL TRY TO POST WHAT I CAN FROM THE DESKTOP VERSION.*

#justiceforadri #justice #stopabuse #abuse #viral #viralnewstories #viralnews #viral news #autism #bad teachers #teachers who are bullies #teachers #west virginia #abuse tw

[ridiculous-in-action]

Quintmagic Chronicles 1: Chapter 4

(THE BEGINNING | LAST | NEXT) -----------------------------------------------

Here’s some more Quintmagic Chronicles content for y’all! I’ve been holding this chapter hostage for a long while, haha. 

The backstory of Allura and Priya continues this chapter, and Kolivan makes an important space-phonecall. 

Like always, chapter under the cut~

Mystery Message

Kolivan huffs, staring down at the reports he had been sent earlier this quintant. He had received an urgent message concerning the druids’ newest experiments. Kolivan almost drops his data-pad when he finds out what is so urgent. Apparently, subjects of a secret project managed to escape their holding cells in-between experiments and now a group of them is on the loose.

“…Are those… Ulaz’ quinthybrids? He said he lost track of them after they were transferred to a more secure location”, he mumbles, frowning at the report. He exits his personal quarters and heads down the hallways of the HQ towards the command center. Upon his entry, he’s greeted by one lone agent supervising the incoming reports and the main systems.

“Leader”, she acknowledges him upon his entry into the room. She turns to him and nods, letting her mask dissolve to make herself known to him.

“Greetings, Airi”, Kolivan says, nodding at her with a brief smile. While the hybrid has only been briefly with them, she’s dead-set on serving the blade with enthusiasm and all she has. Her light-violet skin seems almost blue in the dim lighting of the room, and a row of three bioluminescent purple circles line the lower side of her eyes. Her eyes are pupil-less and of a vibrant yellow color, just like Kolivan’s own.

“What brings you here? Checking for an update on Kogane?”, Airi asks, leaning back in her seat and stretching out her arms and shoulders, implying that she’s been here for some time already, checking every incoming data and intel for any kind of unwanted extras, like a virus. It’s a boring, but very important job.

“No…I need to access some of Ulaz’ files. It might help me understand one of the reports I’ve received. Why, did you get something about him?”, Kolivan explains to the younger member of the blade.

Keith has been missing for quite some time now, disappearing during his recent solo-mission. Kolivan doubts that he’ll show up on his home. He probably got himself captured by someone.

A small chime sounds when another pack of data comes in. Airi huffs, starting the first scan.

“Sorry, but no. Not even one word… Can I be of any help?”, Airi asks, turning back towards Kolivan while she lets the scan run over the received transmission.

Kolivan is about to decline her offer, when he realizes that she’s one of the few agents at the HQ that must push themselves through lots of intel quintant after quintant. She might be able to help him progress with his small investigation.

“Thank you, I would appreciate it. I’m looking for our records on these quinthybrids Ulaz encountered”, Kolivan explains, accessing the terminal and logging himself in. Airi raises an eyebrow.

“I haven’t gotten anything about that in the time I’ve been stationed here. Check under Ulaz’ personal records, then. If you don’t find anything there, try the general main archive”, Airi recommends, turning back towards her station. She scoffed at the report from the program.

“Run inverse scan, same protocol”, she commands verbally, furrowing her eyebrows. Kolivan turns towards Ulaz’ files, skimming through the data. Just a moment later, when another chime indicates the scan finished, Airi hisses loudly.

Kolivan quirks an eyebrow, glancing over at the younger blade. “So, we’re playing that game, huh? Okay, it’s on! Isolate!”, Airi growls at the screen, typing in commands rapidly. So, there is something wrong with that incoming transmission.

“What is it, Airi?”, Kolivan asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The younger hybrid huffs.

“Nothing of importance, leader. I’ve just isolated a suspicious transmission. The date’s set as the next quintant, which is totally impossible”, Airi explains with a huff, resuming the scans to find out what kind of galra trickery that is.

Kolivan furrows his eyebrows, turning away from his terminal. He steps over to her, leaning over her chair and staring the transmission down, his thoughts racing. Something about the code on the screen seems awfully familiar.

That’s when Kolivan realizes why. A well-known string of numbers keeps repeating over and over, even though they make no sense. Kolivan sighs.

“Change the frequency, then invert. Then try running the decryption again”, Kolivan suggests, not taking his eyes off the screen for any tick. Airi raises her eyebrows, doubting that will work, but gives it a try anyways.

There’s a chime when the program’s done, and to Airi’s surprise, they have finally gotten the transmission decrypted. It’s an audio-file. “Huh, how’d you know this would work, leader?”, she asks Kolivan, looking at him over her shoulder.

“That was Keith’s method to decrypt data if our programs don’t work. It doesn’t often give a result, but when it does, it gives us priceless intel. Play the clip”, Kolivan states, stepping back from Airi’s chair.

Airi shakes her head. “I can’t. I’ve isolated it as it is a security risk. You can’t demand- “, she interjects, but Kolivan quickly interrupts her.

“We must take this risk. It might have crucial information. Go ahead and play it”, Kolivan insists, placing his hand on Airi’s shoulder. The hybrid hesitates, looking from Kolivan to the screen and then back. Eventually, she nods with a sigh.

“Yes, leader”, she responds, entering the command to release the file from the isolation. Upon pushing the enter button, the entire system shuts down, leaving the two in almost complete darkness.

Airi curses, trying to re-boot her systems in a haste, while Kolivan rumbles deeply in thought. He doesn’t seem concerned yet for some reason, but she can’t tell why.

That’s when a projector starts playing, and both are caught completely off-guard.

It’s Keith. He coughs. “Nora, this better work. I can’t stand leaving everyone in the dark”, he hisses towards someone outside of the view of the recording device he must have used.

“Don’t worry, they’ll get it, though it’ll probably get really messed up with your timeline… And it might mess up their systems a little. Okay, it’s recording. Go ahead, Keith”, a female voice responds from somewhere off-screen.

Keith sighs, shifting a bit to the side, before he looks back at the recording device with hesitation in his eyes.

“When you get this, it’s probably too late to stop me, but…”, Keith begins, scratching the back of his head and looking down at his feet. He takes a deep breath.

“I’m about to do something very risky and probably stupid”, he admits, sighing deeply afterwards. He raises his gaze again, and his eyes are full of regret.

< < < - > > >

Back in her own quarters, Allura changed into her marine-blue and white battle-suit, staring at her still slightly unfamiliar appearance in the mirror. Her now pink hair won’t turn back to its usual color until she could find time to wash it.

She huffed. The skin-tight suit wasn’t something she was used to wearing at all, and it had been resting in her wardrobe for quite some time and had already gathered a lot of dust. To her, it was a miracle it still fit her this perfectly. “I could have sworn that I’ve grown in all this time. How come this thing still fits? Never mind, we have a mission to carry out”, she mumbled to herself aloud, furrowing her eyebrows and forming a fist with her right hand.

“This is for our home. For our people”, she then whispered to herself, pulling open a drawer to her right and taking out a white hair-tie. She pulled her hair into a ponytail with a satisfied sigh.

“This should suffice”, she said, admiring herself in the mirror for a few more ticks before turning around and leaving her quarters.

She had expected her sister to be done already, but was surprised by the opposite. She knocked at the door opposite to her bedroom. “Priya, are you okay?”, she asked, waiting for a response. She doesn’t get one for a few ticks.

She was about to enter to check on her younger sibling, when said younger sister finally gave a response. “’Lura? I could use a little help…”, Priya responded. Her voice was slightly muffled by the door.

“I’m coming inside, okay?”, Allura informed her sister, before putting her hand on a scanner by the door.

“…Alright”, Priya responded in synch with a chime from the panel. The doors slid open.

Priyane was standing in front of her closet, tugging at her yellow and white suit, trying to reach the back and the zipper there. She was clearly frustrated at that point, tugging wildly at the fabric. Allura shook her head at that, smiling. She approached her younger sister.

“The mice tried helping me with the zipper, but it won’t budge what so ever! I think it’s stuck”, Priya explained, impatiently trying to force the suit into closing. Allura raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“…The mice?”, Allura questioned, kneeling behind her younger sister and being greeted by the sight of five mice hanging from a very stuck zipper.

“Yeah. Chuplachu and the other mice are my friends. Say Hi to my sister!”, she introduced the five colorful altean mice to her older sister Allura. The five mice greeted her with cheerful squeaks. They let go of the jammed zipper, landing on the floor with grace, right in front of Allura’s knees.

“Which one’s Chuplachu?”, Allura asked, while working to pull the yellow fabric out of the zipper. Priya didn’t have to respond that, as one of the mice climbed up into her lap. It had pastel-purple fur and blue eyes and squeaked cheerfully, doing something that Allura could only identify to be bowing. There’s a flower-shaped splotch of darker purple fur over it’s right eye.

“Well, Chuplachu, it’s an honor!”, Allura said, finally managing to pull the fabric free and closing the zipper of her sister’s suit. Allura got back up to her feet, making the purple mouse jump to the floor.

“Thanks, ‘Lura!”, the temporarily red-headed princess said, beginning to shift her skin-color to a paler color, looking again like any other altean. Allura raised her eyebrows at that, giving her sister a questioning look. Priya didn’t respond immediately, instead picking up the purple mouse from the floor and setting it down on her shoulder, before turning to her sister again.

“What? I like it this way. Looks better”, Priya defended herself, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Allura rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you want to tie your hair together, Priya?”, Allura asked, following her sister who was already leaving the room. The other princess shook her head.

“I need you to guard my bedroom. No one’s allowed in here besides mother and father. Understood?”, Priya said, turning around briefly to look at the mice. The four remaining mice nodded, giving tiny salutes at her. Priya smiled, saluting back.

“We’ll be back before you know it!”, she said, turning back towards the door and motioning for her older sister to follow her.

- - -

“So, these mice- “, Pidge realizes, pointing at the four space-mice sitting on Allura’s lap. The princess nods.

“Yeah, Platt, Plachu, Chuchule and Chulatt are the same mice as back then. I’ve only realized it recently myself”, Allura explains, pointing at each of the mice as she says their names.

“…and Chu- Chuplachu?”, Lance asks hesitantly, tilting his head with an uncertain expression. Allura’s own expression tuned somber at that. She formed her hands into fists, clutching at the fabric while trying to remain calm.

“Unfortunately, Chuplachu has been gone since before the destruction of Altea”, Coran explains, a similarly sad expression on his face.

He twirls his moustache. “The little fella died like a true hero”, he then adds with a fond sigh. The expressions of the paladins darken upon hearing that.

“Oh man”, Hunk whispers. Pidge’s glasses drop to the floor with a clattering noise, apologizing quietly and reaching down for it.

Lance stays silent. Looking at the mice, he is trying to decipher what they are thinking at that moment. He turns his gaze towards the princess, hoping to figure out what’s going on in the mice and her. Surprisingly, she has already managed to put up a mask. Lance suppresses a sigh.

The princess puts on a smile, and is about to continue her tale, when they receive an incoming transmission. The paladins jump to their feet and the princess yelps in surprise. They all head back to the bridge in a hurry, accepting the incoming call last tick. They’re greeted by the familiar face of Kolivan.

“Greetings, princess. Paladins, Coran”, he nods at each, before sighing.

“What is it, Kolivan? New intel?”, Pidge asks, sitting down in her own seat on the bridge. Lance doesn’t bother to – he has the feeling that he won’t have to.

“Yes. We’ve encountered a sudden burst of strange activity, as well as some information on Keith. We just have received a video-report from him, with… most unsettling content”, he explains, motioning for someone off-screen to do something. The image of Kolivan disappears and instead, there’s a recording of Keith. The paladins gasp in unison.

“Keith!”, Lance exclaims, his eyes widening. There their missing friend is, seeming alright and relatively unharmed aside from a few scratches.

“Nora, this better work. I can’t stand leaving everyone in the dark”, Keith hisses towards someone outside of the view of the recording device he must have used.

“Don’t worry, they’ll get it, though it’ll probably get really messed up with your timeline… And it might mess up their systems a little. Okay, it’s recording. Go ahead, Keith”, a female voice responds from somewhere off-screen.

Keith sighs, shifting a bit to the side, before he looks back at the recording device with hesitation in his eyes.

“When you get this, it’s probably too late to stop me, but…”, Keith begins, scratching the back of his head and looking down at his feet. He takes a deep breath. The paladins follow each of his small movements with their gaze.

“I’m about to do something very risky and probably stupid”, he admits, sighing deeply afterwards. He raises his gaze again, and his eyes are full of regret. Hunk yelps in surprise at that.

“What?”, he shouts in disbelief, not quite sure how he could come up with something crazy like this. Pidge shushes him.

“I can’t really tell you much besides the fact that I’m going to leave the multiverse for this, attempting to get a very old and special book away from the wrong hands”, he explains. A human-like girl steps into view from the right, though only showing her back at first.

“Retrieving the book could turn the tide for all of the multiverse. The corruption has made its way too far already. Stopping the corruption means stopping two wars”, she explains with a sigh, turning towards the camera. Pidge’s jaw drops in recognition of her features.

“What the actual Quiznak…? What the actual hell is Nora doing in space?! This- This can’t be!”, she exclaims in surprise, making the other paladins turn their heads in her direction with various levels of confusion in their expressions.

“Who is Nora?”, Hunk asks.

----------------------------------------------- (THE BEGINNING | LAST | NEXT)

#Quintmagic Chronicles #Quintmagic Chronicles 1 - The Battle Begins #QMC 1 #para-power-paladins-au #para power paladins au #vld #fanfiction #now on ao3 too!

[edream93]

I don't know if you are still accepting prompts but here it goes: write a prompt inspired on what's my name but like Uma and Harry are singers and their record label have the idea of releasing a song Uma feat. Harry Hook and they just meet on the video clip day. Also Uma is Harry's celebrity crush...

Hi anon! Thank you for being so patient! When I first got this prompt, I actually laughed because I had been thinking of something similar literally days before. I’m glad that I was able to put some of those thoughts into an actual prompt. I do want to apologize though, if you’re a Mal fan, there’s a bit of Mal bashing in this one (I don’t necessarily hate Mal. I actually think she’s has the potential of being a really great character, but the last movie just dropped the ball on that. It was just the only way I could think of to make the story work).

Anyway, I hope you still enjoy and obviously, you should totally listen to “What’s My Name” at some point before, after, or while you’re reading.

After the media horror show that followed after Mal very publicly broke up with him (who the hell breaks up with someone right in the middle of an interview, he thought), singing artist Harry Hook wanted nothing to do with collaborating with another wannabe diva. 

(He and Mal hadn’t even been dating, but when Mal had hinted that after their last project together - which had been an auto-tuned disaster - that they were something more than just colleagues and one time collaborators, his manager - also known as his harpy of a sister Harriet - had told him to neither confirm nor deny the rumors. After all, Mal’s manager/mother had been in this business long enough to squish his blossoming career with one snap of her red manicure fingers if he angered or insulted her daughter. With her beautiful features but caustic personality, Maleficent made The Darkest Fairy, sound more like a fact than a former stage name.)

“I’m not doing another song with some harpy who doesn’t even know the difference between B flat and A sharp,” Harry murmured darkly as he followed his oldest sister into the elevator that quickly took them to his record label’s, Second Star, recording studio.

“You’ll do what I tell you, little brother,” Harriet growled, over her shoulder, her black with red accented business attire doing nothing to lessen the air around her that practically declared that she was not one to be messed with. “And stop being a pretentious emo music nerd.”

Harry rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut. Harriet may be annoying, but she had made a promise to help him reach his dreams when they were just wee tots and as she always did, she kept her promise. There weren’t many people in his life that Harry could trust but Harriet was one of them, despite how much she nagged.

As they entered the recording studio where Jonas was already setting things up, Harry took a moment to glance at the music that Harriet had handed him. He held in a groan when he saw the song’s name.

“What’s My Name? Seriously, Ettie? How self-entitled is this lass? This…Uma?” he questioned annoyed before he paused. “Wait. Uma? Where do I know this name from?”

“She’s Mal’s former ghost writer, man,” Jonas supplied from where he was checking sound levels. “The one that hacker, Son of Hades, revealed was actually behind all the award winning songs that Mal claimed to have written herself. After he broke into Spinning Needle Records database, he revealed all their fraud and creative theft they’ve been doing of small independent artists for years.”

Harry nodded. He vaguely remembered that. It had happened while he and Mal had still been “dating”. He did remember Mal stomping around in a rage after her stylist, Evie, sent her a message, muttering something about shrimp and “That bitch thinks she can go against me? I’m the fucking queen!” (The fact that this Uma seemed to inspire so much anger out of Mal definitely gave her a point in Harry’s book.)

“Maleficent let Uma go immediately despite how much obvious success she could have brought to their record,” Harriet continued, not looking up from her phone. “But her loss. Our gain. Uma left with a book full of songs she never showed that dragon bitch and Second Star swooped in on the opportunity and signed with her just a few weeks ago. The process is going a bit faster than usual for a new artist,” his sister said glancing up at him, “but Pan wants to capitalize on the media controversy, hoping that’ll help put Uma out there as a singer and give Mal some real competition.”

“And he loves messing with Maleficent,” Jonas added.

Harriet nodded, a wicked grin on her face. “Who doesn’t?”

Harry looked down at the music again, this time looking past the song’s title and to the actual lyrics.

“Not bad,” he muttered shifting the pages as he continued to glance at the obviously handwritten song sheets. “I’m guessing this is a big ‘fuck you’ letter to Mal?”

“You could put it that way,” Harriet shrugged before frowning. “Though not in public!”

Harry grinned, mischief woven into his smile as he headed towards the sound booth. “Maybe this collaboration won’t be so terrible after all.”

—

“This is terrible,” Harry moaned.

Unsympathetic giggles responded back as Dizzy Tremaine, his stylist, leaned around him to also take a look at the mirror in front of him.

“Didn’t you tell me that you wanted to be a pirate, once?” she continued to giggle.

“When I was a wee lad!” he exclaimed turning around to face the much younger woman. “Not now! This is just ridiculous!”

“It’s Pan just being cheeky,” Harriet said stepping into his dressing room, unannounced. “You know. Because of-

“Because of Da,” Harry said cutting her off. “I know, I know,” he sighed trying to not imagine what type of scathing criticism their father, the lead singer and guitarist and also co-founder of the of The Jolly Rogers along with Second Star current executive producer Peter Pan (and thorn in Harry’s side), would give him if the man was still alive.

He sighed, taking care to not wrinkle his pirate inspired costume. A production assistant had just stopped by a few minutes earlier to let them know that Uma’s makeup was taking a bit longer than expected and that he had a few extra minutes before he was needed on the set. He pulled out his phone and earbuds to tune Dizzy and Harriet out, quickly scrolling to a downloaded audio file. It wasn’t the best quality since the audio had been taken from a recorded video but Harry had found himself listening to it almost religiously every day since that day in the sound booth.

The audio was from a recording of Auradon Got Talent that was done years ago. As he closed his eyes and listened to the music, Harry imagined the stage in the video and the young and oh so small girl with teal hair that came onto the stage as if she was born on it. Her voice then had been powerful for such a small lass and now…he couldn’t help but shiver at the memory of her voice that he had heard when he was recording his part in her new song a week ago. Her talents had definitely been wasted forced into Mal’s shadow.

He felt an earbud being pulled from his ear and for a moment he thought it was Harriet who always had a bad habit of wanting to know what he was listening to, mother hen that she was despite her preferred edgy style.

“Huh. Haven’t heard this song in a long time,” a voice that was definitely not his sister’s startled him to open his eyes to look at the calculating expression of his current collaborator (and, if he was being perfectly honest, his current crush). He glanced around the room, seeing that Harriet and Dizzy were no longer there. (Damn, them.)

As he scrambled for something to say, Harry couldn’t help but appreciate how breathtaking and not to be messed with Uma looked in her own costume. Once he had taken her in, he nearly wanted to smack himself for staring but if the small little smirk on her face, as well as her own appreciative look she threw him, she didn’t mind and also liked what she saw.

“Uh…hi?” Harry squeaked under her gaze, wondering where the hell his usual smooth, suave bad boy persona went.

“Hey,” she returned. “I just wanted to introduce myself and thank you for agreeing to do this, especially with, ya know, me not being on the best of terms with your ex, currently.”

“We never dated. All just a rumor,” Harry found himself saying before he could stop himself. (Harriet was so going to kill him.) He had the strongest urge to tell her everything, to fall to his knees at her feet and assure her that there was nothing between him and Mal, ever.

Uma surprised him though.

“I know,” she said simply and it was like a weight he hadn’t been aware was on his shoulders was lifted. “That’s why I asked for you specifically. I’ve always wanted to work with you. Even before Mal. I’ve…I’ve kind of been a fan of yours for awhile. Even before you and Jay went separate ways musically,” she continued and it was like she had both drowned him and allowed him to fly. The experience was dizzying and wonderful all at the same time. And were his eyes deceiving him or was she…her cheeks had definitely looked like they had darkened, right? “Besides, Jay was adorable but he could never tell the difference between a B flat and A sharp,” she smirked, trying to hide her embarrassment by flipping her hair casually over her shoulder.

That was it. Harry’s brain seemed to implode at that moment as he sighed adoringly, “Will ye marry me?”

Uma’s eyes widened, caught off guard, and it took everything in Harry to not just walk out of the building where they were currently in and just hop into the trash where he belonged.

Before he could salvage things, he heard the most beautiful sound: her laughter.

“Sure, but let’s get through this music video first, first mate,” she winked cheekily using the song’s character description for him.

A beat didn’t even past when he responded back with “Don’t you mean, first date, Captain?” he grinned back.

The two both broke out into loud boisterous laughter, that seemed to follow them even when they made their way onto the set where their other collaborator DJ G3., or Gil, who they were both surprised to find out was a mutual friend to the other, was waiting in his own pirate inspired garb.

And the laughter from that day followed them all the way to “What’s My Name” rising to the top of the charts, beating even Mal’s most popular songs for weeks on end (it was so satisfying seeing Mal’s newest song barely even make it on the top 100 list only to be pushed off after a week) to years later when, once they both had multiple Grammy’s and other various international music awards under their belts, Harry got down on one knee, his mother’s ring held in his hand.

All Uma could do was grin. “I already said yes the first day we met,” she said before kissing him deeply, and not for the first time Uma made his heart sing.

(AN: Also, if you’re wondering, there’s no difference between an A sharp and a B flat. They’re the same note.)

#edream93 answers #edream93 fanfic #disney descendants #descendants fanfiction #huma #harry hook #uma #descendants au #uma x harry hook #mal #harriet hook #jonas #gil #dizzy tremaine #Peter Pan #what's my name #singer/celebrity au #edream93 fanfiction

[entropic-introspection]

Don’t let me on kinkmemes, I steal the prompts, strip them down and rebuild them like the weirdest looking revved up hot-rods that only vaguely resemble their original purpose and kind of decidedly unsexy unless you’re into that sort of thing

In this our first installment: Jailbreaks, basic premise building, the Magnus Hammer, fighting, a sad lack of banter, more fighting, and Decepticon sedatives

“Decepticons! Transform and rise! UP!” Megatron roared, slamming one of his swords against his heavily plated forearm. He was met by answering screams and clangs, an unholy cacophony to rupture the usual foreboding silence over Trypticon prison. The pathetic Autobots swarming the area panicked like the ant-droids they were, looking for a leader and finding none. General Strika was quite thorough in that regard.

“Time estimate,” he barked into his comms, freshly restored to him.

“We require five breems to reroute the power to necessary areas,” Oil Slick reported, speaking over what sounded like a great deal of cursing in the background. “Possibly more. Why do the Autobots build so small?”

“Understood,” Megatron said. “Strika, status?”

“Holding,” she said. “All of their anti-aerial measures have been disabled, so we have far less to fear. Ground troops are scaring out any Autobots that remain within our perimeter while our fliers keep it clear.”

“Good,” Megatron said. “Is there anywhere you need me?”

Strika snorted. “Keep flying in plain sight and be a pretty figurehead. The troops have missed you, my lord, and if you get hit by a sniper it will be an excellent reminder to keep a look out.”

Megatron grinned. “So dismissive of Autobot warriors, still?”

“More that I am almost entirely certain that you are too stubborn to go offline any time soon,” Strika said. “You disappear for fifty solar cycles and return with the location of the Allspark, nearly take Omega Supreme for the Decepticon cause, and if nothing else you finally offlined Starscream. If you were to take a sniper shot to the cranium, I am convinced that you would come back with the ability to see the future, or talking to Unicron or some such nonsense, if it didn’t just bounce off that thick helmet of yours.”

Megatron barked out a laugh, although he kept a wary eye on the buildings that cut through the horizon. Since Trypticon was a fortress refurbished into a prison, it was surrounded largely by empty land, but you never knew. It was crawling itch in his plating to not know, but he was so familiar with the feeling that he was able to dismiss it with ease. Besides, he was finally free, out from his cramped cell and the ridiculous Autobot demands, back at his rightful place as leader of the Decepticons.

Back in control. Anything else was secondary.

“Movement! Airborne enemy mech, incoming!”

Well, nearly anything else.

A neat turn brought him to face the mech marked on his radar, distinctive red and blue not quite zipping through the skies, but moving at a good clip for being someone never designed for flight.

“General Strika,” Megatron purred, swinging his swords through a quick kata in warm up, “I do believe this one is mine.”

“Do not engage!” Strika snarled. “Our goal is extraction, not a rematch! You cannot-”

“Cannot what, General?” Megatron asked, speeding forward to meet the young Autobot. He heard Strika take a sharp invent and let it out with a hiss. She wouldn’t get the full effect of the dominant coding he was leaking everywhere like a new-sparked idiot over comms, but she would certainly know it was there.

“I ask,” she said carefully, “That you remember that we must return you home safely. Engage the puny Auto-scum if you must, but please pull back when we are ready to warp. Else I will shoot you out of the sky myself and drag you along the ground.”

He considered her proposal. It was tactically sound, after all, and submissive enough to please his frazzled coding. He could forgive the last line, as Strika herself had more highly dominant code than submissive, and he was no doubt putting her through a good deal of stress.

“Understood,” he said. “I will withdraw on your mark, General.”

Megatron spun through the sky, for no purpose other than the joy of flight and to revel in his new found freedom. It was also a semi-impressive looking maneuver that the Autobot in front of him wouldn’t be able to replicate without sending himself into an ungainly downwards spiral. He was only mildly disappointed that his opponent didn’t try to mimic him, instead keeping his approach simple and level.

“Optimus Prime,” Megatron said pleasantly once they were within audio range. “So glad you could join us for such a momentous occasion.”

The young Prime didn’t respond, choosing instead to glare over his battlemask, as if that were more intimidating than his attempts at banter. His grip on the Magnus Hammer shifted in preparation.

“Still depending on your toys?” Megatron asked with an indulgent smile. “Face it, Autobot,” he sneered, “Could you even defeat me on your own?”

Optimus’ expression didn’t change, nor did his posture.

“Very well then,” Megatron said. “Our actions will speak for us.” He raised his swords in preparation.

Optimus’s eyes flicked towards them, and he held up a hand, one finger extended.

Megatron stopped, nonplussed by the universal signal for ‘please wait, I am doing something right now’.

“Sentinel,” Optimus said, enunciating clearly, “I am here already. I am going to mute your comm channel now, so if you need to contact me, please do so through official channels. Give my regards to-” he paused, looking at Megatron. “Well. You know. Optimus, out.”

Optimus resettled himself in the air uncomfortably, wobbling slightly as he miscalculated his balance. “You were saying something, Megatron?” he said in the exact same neutral tone.

*

A too-small prison and officious Autobots leering at him for cycles had not been kind to Megatron. This was his moment of triumph and control, of proving that no puny Autobots could contain him, and to have this one in particular practically ignore him was simply the last strand to the fraying wire.

To the Pit with presentation. He roared in challenge as he ascended, and the heavens answered with thunder and lightning in return, crashing into Trypticon below. Strika’s plan must have been nearing completion, then, to elicit such a dramatic atmospheric reaction. Sparks danced across the ground below as his troops flinched, some trying to hide before correcting themselves, others almost gearing up for a fight they knew they wouldn’t win.

Anyone with dominant coding could issue a challenge as he just did; few could ever hope to match the sheer intensity and presence behind his. After all, most Cybertronians would never encounter a pure dominant code type in their very long day-to-day lives. Blitzwing’s Random face had laughingly described it as running into a steel wall when they were expecting clouds, and mechs reacted accordingly.

Except for Optimus Prime. He remained hovering, what little expression that was visible above his battlemask unchanged. Or, wait. There was a small twitch to his optics, one Megatron found himself sporting when Lugnut was feeling particularly obsequious.

Megatron dove at Optimus, awaiting an answering scream of challenge or defeat. Instead, the Autobot looped the Magnus Hammer in a long, crackling circle. His mask dropped to show his snarl, complete with pathetically blunt dentae.

“Slag off,” he growled, and threw back his head and howled. The Magnus Hammer sang with him in a hymn of thunderclaps as it practically pulled him through the air, encasing them both in a  corona of electricity. It was a sight to behold, but what held Megatron frozen was the compulsion behind it.

If pure dominant coding was rare, then it’s only match, indeed what possibly surpassed it in rarity, was a pure coded submissive.

This was not Optimus answering his challenge as an equal; this was Optimus denying his challenge any ground, unable to answer and not needing to as he flew through the storm, untouched, the Hammer itself serving as his leading partner, an avenging angel uncaring of such mortal squabbles.

It was beautiful.

It also hurt like the Pit, as the Magnus Hammer connected with Megatron’s side, crumpling plating and frying circuits. Megatron pinwheeled through the air like some sort of novice, trying to digest the last few kliks.

“My lord, we must go now!” Strika yelled over the comms as thunder crashed. “Before the build-up fries us!”

“Understood,” Megatron croaked, sparks crackling between his lips as they parted. “I may need some assistance disengaging.”

“It is already there,” Strika said, and Cyclonus dropped abruptly from the clouds, no engines running to give him away, and his foot slammed into the wings of Optimus’ jetpack. Yielding to physics, one snapped off entirely, and Optimus was sent spinning away, only barely retaining his grip on the Hammer.

“My lord,” Cyclonus said shortly, pulling up to hover beside Megatron. “Can you fly closer to the fortress unaided?”

“Yes,” Megatron snapped. “But I cannot transform at the moment.”

Cyclonus nodded. “Then I am sure the medical team will wish to see you,” he said neutrally. “Let us hurry.”

Megatron descended, thoughts whirring furiously. Cyclonus remained several feet back, field tucked below his plating, a nearly invisible presence even now. Megatron was uncertain how the mech even presented; it had never come up before, and he hadn’t seen the other’s reaction to his challenge or Optimus’ response. In calmer days, it wasn’t a problem. Today, it made him bristle.

He tucked those feelings away and stood straight as he landed, pain ignored for now. Strika looked him over critically, unfooled, but nodded approvingly anyways.

“My lord,” she said, field restrained and projecting as much submission as she was capable of. “As you command.”

“Decepticons,” Megatron said over comms, voice rough, “Let us return to our brethren with this piece of our home.”

Thunder boomed, rattling struts and shaking windows and so much lightning crashed into Trypticon that even those with specialized optics couldn’t see past the blinding light. When it all faded, Trypticon was simply gone, and the Decepticons with it.

Two flier remained, though. They drifted through a grid search pattern until they spotted what they were looking for, at which point the spiralled in to land practically on top of Optimus Prime in his crash crater.

“Optimus Prime, sir!” Jetfire said cheerfully. “Is good to be seeing you!”

“Less good to be seeing Decepticons are all gone,” Jetstorm said just as happily, leaning over to help Optimus stand.

“But is good, because Ultra Magnus is awake!” Jetfire said, looping one of Optimus’ arms over his shoulder.

“But is tricky, because we cannot be telling him about all of problems at once without relapse,” Jetstorm said as they started walking towards the city proper, dragging the Hammer behind them.

“We is thinking he maybe be mad at Commander ours, but not all problems his! Now some are yours,” Jetfire said.

“I’m glad I could help,” Optimus said flatly, faceplates stuck in a mullish expression.

“We be glad too!” the twins said together. “Happy times all around!”

“So very happy,” Optimus agreed dully as they made it past the cleared land around Trypticon and back into the Autobot friendly expanses of the planet-wide city, as marked by numerous posters reminding everyone to do their part with energon rationing, war-time production, constant vigilance for spies, and of course, to know your place in The Great Autobot Machine.

“Sir is not happy,” Jetstorm confided to Optimus.

“Sir thinks you are being disrespectful and forgetting own code,” Jetfire confirmed.

“Submissive glitch should not be making decisions like this!” Jetstorm said in a very bad impression of Sentinel’s voice.

“Cannot be thinking straight, not fit for duty!” Jetfire said with a slightly worse impression.

Optimus groaned. “I can walk, you know,” he told the two of them. “I’ll comm and Ratchet and-”

The twins shook their heads vigorously. “Who you think be sending us?” Jetfire demanded.

“Said he would be telling Sentinel we be goofing off at work if we did not come back with you and all pieces!” Jetstorm added indignantly.

“I’m missing a wing to my jetpack,” Optimus tried.

They gave him a pitying look and kept walking, and Optimus let himself be dragged along. Well. At least he had a medical excuse for why he couldn’t go see Sentinel Acting Magnus and Ultra Probably the Actual Magnus. His processor was already aching from Megatron’s over-the-top pompous ass dominant challenge, and he didn’t want to deal with more inane dominant posturing for the next stellar cycle.

--

“Optimus Prime,” Megatron began in a thoughtful tone, sitting on an examination chair in the med-bay, “is a pure submissive.”

General Strika, recognizing the tone, immediately turned and administered a Class F Decepticon Emergency Sedative by punching him the face and into unconsciousness.

“I am not dealing with him until I have had time to reunite with my consort and gotten our people back into some form of order,” she said, glaring at Scalpel, the doctor on duty. “See to it.”

Scalpel cackled and saluted. Dominant coding and command structure meant nothing in a Decepticon medbay if you got to the sedatives first.

~+~+~+~

An authorial aside note from my editing process that I liked way too much to delete entirely, goes where the asterisk (*) is

[The disrespect is fucking real, Megatron realized. He supposed his saving grace was that General Strika wasn’t here to point and laugh. Well fuck that.]

#maccadam #fanfic #tf #tfa #megop #ily4pr

[llamaswrites]

Light

Fandom: Pokemon

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Hau/Gladion (Haudion | Cutebonesshipping)

Summary: Gladion opened his mouth to object again, but Hau quickly kissed him. “Stop. Worrying. You can do this, mea aloha. You succeed in everything you do. This will be just another item on the list.”

Solutions are found, but they're not the ones that everyone wants.

(Part six in the Isolation series)

Read on AO3 here.

The best families were the ones made from love, not necessarily blood.

Maybe Hala had been the one to tell him that, maybe he’d learned it on his own, but in either case Hau took it to heart when his father took off for parts unknown. At the time, Hau wasn’t able to understand why anyone would want to leave their large and happy family. Why go anywhere else when love was so readily available?

He still didn’t entirely understand it years later, but he could to some extent. Life as a Kahuna was intense and the expectations were high, but Hau wouldn’t have traded it for any other lot. The friends (and family) he’d gained throughout the years far outweighed any downside to the job.

The past six or so months had been some of the happiest he’d ever had. Even now, he watched his new family relax in the living room in the dying light of the afternoon and felt sheer content spread warmly through his body. Gladion was sitting on the couch, wearing an old torn up shirt while he struggled to keep the newest addition to their family, a Type: Null, still in his lap. Silvally watched on from where it rested its head against the arm of the couch and Raichu snoozed in its bed in the corner, partially levitated off of it from whatever dream he was having.

“If you’re going to stand there and stare, you can come help me,” Gladion hissed as he caught a flailing leg. He was attempting to file down Null’s talons slightly so it would be able to freely wander the house without damaging most of the interior. Silvally was long used to living in doors and usually had little problem minding its sharp talons, but Null was still learning.

“I’ll make its struggling worse if I come over there.”

“Only because it knows you’re such a sap that it can get away with murder around you.”

The Pokemon whined softly as Gladion finally managed to pin it. Actually filing down the talons took much less than time than wrangling Null and it was soon released from his lap. It skittered across the floor, helmet crashing against the coffee table as it made its way outside. Silvally promptly chased after it and Hau shut the door behind them. Gladion let his head fall back against the couch and sighed.

“At least this one is much smaller than Silvally ever was. I wasn’t able to do this with it and you saw the result of that.”

Hau noticed blood starting to drip down Gladion’s arm from where an errant talon had swiped him and grabbed the first aid kit from where he’d the forethought to put it on the counter. It was a testament to how relaxed Gladion had grown to be around him that he didn’t flinch when Hau suddenly intruded into his space.

“Did it get you anywhere else?” Hau asked as he tied off the bandage on Gladion’s arm.

“No, thankfully.” Gladion let Hau pull him into his lap and buried his head into the crook of his neck. They hadn’t much of a chance to just be together since Gladion had started to analyze Mew’s sequence a few months before and Hau missed Gladion’s presence so much it started to ache in his chest. It seemed like when one was home, the other wasn’t. If Gladion wasn’t at the lab, then Hau was dealing with the increasingly frequent wormholes that opened up somewhere on the islands. The only time they really saw each other was when they crawled into bed together at night, but both were usually too exhausted to do much more than sleep.

Hau ran his hands down Gladion’s sides before digging his fingers into Gladion’s ever tense lower back. Gladion shivered slightly and let out a small, muffled sound that caused heat to start to gather in Hau’s stomach.

“It’s so nice just have a moment to relax with you,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of Gladion’s head. Gladion tilted his head up and caught Hau’s lips in a soft kiss that quickly turned into an exchange of licks and bites. Hau pushed him back against the couch gently and started to trail small nips down Gladion’s neck as his hands found their way under Gladion’s shirt. Gladion arched up into his touch and whined before his fingers tangled into Hau’s hair, pulling out the tie and the clips.

Had either of them been paying more attention, they would have noticed Hau’s Raichu suddenly perking up from its nap across the room in response to some yet unknown thing. Oblivious (or perhaps uncaring) as to what was happening on the couch, he picked up Hau’s Xtransceiver and levitated it so it floated right behind Hau’s head. Hau and Gladion finally noticed, though, when it exploded into sound. They both jumped and Hau reluctantly pulled away from where he was attempting to leave a mark right below Gladion’s collarbone. He reached behind him for the Xtransceiver and Raichu let it drop into his hand. He was careful to answer it with audio only.

“This is Hau,” he said as he carefully climbed off of Gladion. Gladion grumbled and reached over the edge of the couch to feel around for where his shirt had landed.

“Hey Hau! It’s Lillie. I was wondering if you and my brother would be able to swing by the Paradise today. I know it’s short notice, but it’s super important. Anabel from the International Police is here and hoping to talk with you guys.”

“I guess we could do that, yeah,” he replied as he trailed a hand teasingly up Gladion’s chest before he could put his shirt back on. Gladion snarled something at him as he yanked the shirt over his head. “Just give us a bit.”

“Oh, I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Lillie asked with a giggle. Gladion snatched the Xtransceiver out of his hands.

“Yes, in fact, you did,” he growled and Hau could hear Lillie’s explosive laughter from where he stood. “Now let us get ready in peace!”

He swiped to end the call and shoved the Xtransceiver back at Hau, face burning. Hau only chuckled as he wrapped it around his wrist one more before kissing Gladion’s forehead.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.”

Thankfully, they were able to make it to the Paradise before the sun set below the waves on the back of a Charizard. Gladion had calmed down somewhat on the way there, but it might have been helped by the fact that he pressed against Hau’s chest the entire way.

Lillie was waiting for them when they landed and quickly lead them down to the main lab where Gladion usually worked. Red and Blue were waiting for them already, with Anabel sitting across the table from them with Moon at her side. A laptop between them showed that Dawn, who had returned to Sinnoh shortly before the Mew ordeal, was sitting in on this meeting as well.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Anabel said as she extended a hand towards Gladion, who reluctantly shook it before he plopped down in one of the empty chairs beside Hau. “I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Anabel, as you may already know. I was hoping to speak with all of you today regarding the influx of Ultra Beasts in the region as well as some ways that the Aether Foundation can hopefully help us in our efforts to get this situation stabilized.”

A claxon suddenly rang out, announcing the presence of yet another wormhole somewhere in the region. Gladion jumped to his feet, ready to take care of, but Anabel caught his shoulder.

“Leave it for now,” she told him. “The other Kahunas can handle it. We need to have this discussion.”

“This is getting out of control!” Gladion snarled as he ran a hand through his hair and sank into his chair. Hau resisted the urge to touch him, to try to calm him down because he knew it would only make Gladion’s aggravation worse. “We’re having at least three wormholes opening up every day now, and that number seems to be increasing.”

“Agreed,” Anabel said as she leaned back in her chair. “We’re not going to have the bodies required to handle this crisis soon. The frequency of the wormholes are increasing almost exponentially, as compared to almost twenty years ago when we started tracking them. I heard that you were looking into the Beast Killer project a little more deeply and wanted to stop by to propose something to you.”

“Which is?”

“To combat the increased presence of UBs in the region, I would ask that you restart the Beast Killer project. Silvally seems to be one of the only truly effective Pokemon against UBs and we could use more like it.”

“Absolutely not!” Gladion spat.

“Why? Is it an issue of compensation, or lack of manpower? I can assure that the International Police can provide you with both.”

“It’s an issue of ethics! Creating Pokemon in labs isn’t right!”

“So what does that say about the artificial breeding programs your sister is currently running? Aren’t those Pokemon created in labs as well?”

A snarl ripped from Gladion’s throat and this time, Hau did grab his arm to keep him seated. Lillie spoke up next from where she sat next to the champion.

“Gladion, think about it. Our guardians and Nebby can only do so much to combat them, even with Silvally and Type: Null’s help. Nebby especially can only really create portals to shove the UBs back through. It’s almost like space is destabilizing here and I’m not sure why. Even Dad doesn’t have a clue. I don’t think we have any other solution.”

“I might.” All the eyes in the room turned to the laptop that had been set up. Dawn continued, “I set up some of the equipment Mohn graciously sent with me at the Spear Pillar on a hunch. An old friend helped me analyze the results and I think I have a working hypothesis as to why this is happening. Gladion, the locations of the portals in Alola correspond to almost the same place in the UB dimension every time, correct?”

Gladion nodded.

“Technically, this should be happening everywhere if that’s the case, but it’s obviously not. The data I collected at the Spear Pillar suggested that the spatial anomalies that happen there from time to time lead to a similar, if not the same dimension. There’s something missing in the UB dimension where Alola is connected to that’s causing this spatial imbalance.”

“What do you think it is, exactly?” Gladion asked.

“A Pokemon. Or Ultra Beast. I’m not sure which it is, anymore. I think that something used to exist in the Alola UB dimension that kept the UBs themselves in check as well as maintaining the balance between the two dimensions. What’s happening now is almost like an ecosystem imbalance.”

“I have a temporary solution, at best,” she continued. “There’s a Pokemon that legends say exists in a place on the opposite side of our own, which sounds an awful lot like the UB dimension to me. It seems to maintain balance between our world and its own. I thought at first there might only be one, but some digging by Cynthia has revealed that there seems to be more than one.”

“Is this another one of those Pokemon that you’ve supposedly never met, yet know everything about?” Gladion asked grumpily. Dawn only smiled in response.

“I think something must have happened to the one that used to exist around Alola, which is why the region has been plagued by UBs for millennia. It’s only now coming to a head because the dimensions are trying to collapse into each other. As Anabel brought up earlier, this seems to be happening at an exponential rate, but it’s probably taken at least several millennia to get this bad. I propose that we temporarily relocate the Pokemon from where it resides opposite of the Spear Pillar in Sinnoh until we can find a more permanent solution.”

“Won’t that leave Sinnoh vulnerable to the same phenomenon?” Blue pointed out.

“I don’t believe so,” Dawn replied. “At least, not right away. Cynthia thinks she may have found something that can provide a more permanent solution, but it will take time to explore that option fully.”

“So what? Someone has to go through a portal and catch the damn thing?” Gladion asked.

“Yes.”

A heavy, contemplative silence fell on the lab.

“I’ll do it,” Red and Moon offered at the same time. Dawn shook her head.

“No,” she said. “There’s really only one person who can do this. This Pokemon might technically be an Ultra Beast itself and we need to be prepared for that possibility. Red, your team is not exactly prepared to deal with UBs. Moon, you have Nebby but you’re both needed here to keep this situation from deteriorating anymore than it is.” A stern look from Dawn silenced any objections they might have.

“Gladion, you’re the best choice to do this. You have both Silvally and Null at your disposal in case the Pokemon is, in fact, an Ultra Beast and you’re perhaps the most knowledgeable person here about the UB dimension. Will you do it?”

“I don’t think I really have a choice here,” Gladion said quietly.

“It’s settled then. I’ll start making arrangements for your stay here in Sinnoh. You’ll get the details in your email later. If it’s possible, I’d like to have a one-on-one call with you later to discuss some of the finer points of this.”

After saying her goodbyes and hanging up, their small group dispersed fairly quickly, leaving Hau and Gladion alone in the lab. Gladion cradled his face in his hands and sighed. Hau pulled up a chair beside him and looped an arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Hau,” he admitted quietly. “I mean, so much can go wrong in this situation. What if this doesn’t work? What if the Pokemon isn’t even there? What if I don’t come back--”

“Gladion, Dawn picked you for a reason,” Hau interrupted as he tugged Gladion to his side and pressed a kiss to his head. “Everything will work out like it’s supposed to, alright? You just need to trust her and trust Silvally and Null.” Gladion opened his mouth to object again, but Hau quickly kissed him. “Stop. Worrying. You can do this, mea aloha. You succeed in everything you do. This will be just another item on the list.”

Gladion’s face flushed slightly as he gently pushed away from Hau’s embrace.

“I should probably get everything ready for my absence,” he mumbled. “I’m not sure when I’ll be leaving but this will take a while either way.”

“Do you want me to stick around?” Hau asked. Gladion shook his head.

“No, I’ll work better alone. Why don’t you have Lillie show you the nursery? I heard that the professor from Johto sent over a Pichu egg the other day.”

“If you’re sure…” Hau pushed himself to his feet and planted a kiss on Gladion’s head. Gladion lightly swiped at him and mumbled something that sounded like, “I’ll be fine, you idiot.”

“I’ll be back down later to make sure you actually come home tonight! Love you!” Hau called over his shoulder as he exited the lab.

“Love you too, idiot,” Gladion grumbled in response as he shut the door in Hau’s face.

To his surprise, Lillie was waiting for him by the lift.

“Is he going to be alright?” she asked as they stepped on together.

“I think so,” Hau said. “He’s just got a lot to think through right now. It’s best to leave him be for the moment.”

Lillie sighed.

“His biggest problem is that he always thinks too much,” she admitted. “Sometimes I think he’d be a lot better off if he just let himself feel instead of overanalyzing everything that came his way.”

“He’s learning,” Hau defended as the lift arrived on the main floor. “It’s just taking him a while. Now, I believe Gladion mentioned a Pichu egg?”

Lillie sighed again, this time more in exasperation at her friend’s Pokemon fixation, as she punched in the door code for the nursery. Much like the conservatory above it, the nursery had mostly natural light from the wall of windows. It was late enough in the day, though, that some of the soft overhead lights had flicked on. The entire room was almost uncomfortably warm, but Hau supposed the baby Pokemon needed it to be that temperature. While some were, as Anabel suggested, bred in a laboratory setting, most were orphans that the Foundation had taken in.

It was far quieter than it’d been on previous visits but it seemed as though nearly all the Pokemon were asleep, either in blanket covered piles in the corners or in the small wading pools provided for them. Only a few Wynaut and Cleffa peered around their hiding places to study them.

“It’s over here,” Lillie said as she lead Hau to the corner of the room where the incubators where. For the most part, the Foundation preferred to use actual Pokemon to incubate eggs, but sometimes artificial incubators were used if the egg warranted study. This seemed to be the case for this particular egg. Hau recognized it right off the bat from its pattern. He could definitely see the cause for concern, though. What he first believed to be shadowing from the dim lighting was actually an off coloration of an otherwise normal Pichu egg.

“Can I hold it?” he asked, and Lillie nodded. She carefully removed the egg from the warmth of the incubator and handed it to him.

“It doesn’t seem to want to hatch at all,” she told him. “It arrived here a few weeks ago and Elm had it for several before that. I’m starting to get concerned. It hasn’t rocked or moved at all.”

“Are you sure it’s a viable egg?” he inquired as he shifted it around in his hands. It felt warm, but it could have just been residual heat from the incubator.

“I’m certain,” she answered. “Every test we’ve run on it shows signs of it being a normal Pichu egg. It just doesn’t want to come out.”

Hau started as the egg rocked slightly and grinned as he smoothed a hand over the shell.

“Well, maybe she just needs some encouragement.”

“She? Oh goodness, Hau, really?”

“Really. I can feel it. She’s formed enough to have some thoughts, but it’s like she’s sleeping.”

Lillie sighed and shook her head.

“That’s the most reaction we’ve gotten in weeks. I’m almost afraid to ask for your help after last time…”

“It’s not my fault they’re all so cute! I would give them all a home if I could!”

“Hau, you did try to give them all a home. Gladion and I had to pry all the Pokemon in the nursery off you while you cried and you still tried to sneak a Pichu out!”

Hau hung his head in mock defeat.

“Fine, fine. At least let me take a walk with this one, at least. You should join me. Maybe we can convince this little one it’s time to come out.”

Lillie acquiesced, and they found themselves wandering around outside the main Paradise building. Hau wrapped the egg in his Kahuna mantle to help keep it warm from the cold ocean breezes. It was getting to be near monsoon season again.

He almost dropped the egg when Lillie suddenly asked, “So, when are you going to ask my brother to marry you?”

“Lillie, don’t just spring stuff on me like that!” She huffed out her cheeks in irritation.

“You’re avoiding my question. Anyone with eyes can see how into each other you two are. It’s been almost eight months and you’re both the happiest I’ve ever seen. Everyone is expecting you to pop the question any day now.”

“Why me?”

“I shouldn’t have to answer that, Hau.”

“Okay, fine, that’s fair. I just…” He sighed and cradled the egg closer to his chest. “I’m not sure he’s even really considered that, to be honest.”

“I think you’re giving him far less credit than he deserves,” she pointed out. “He might not have considered it in those terms, yes, but I’m pretty sure he wants to stay by your side as long as you’ll have him, Hau.”

The egg shook slightly in his arms, perhaps sensing his distress. Hau sent a wave of assurances towards it and it quieted once more.

“Go for it, Hau,” Lillie urged. “I don’t think he’ll say no. You certainly have my blessing to do so and Dad’s asked about it as well so I think he’s okay with it.”

“Maybe,” Hau said. “Let me think about it. We should probably start to head back. I don’t want this little one getting colder than she needs to.”

He held out the wrapped up egg towards Lillie, who took it carefully in her arms.

“I’ll get something prepared so you can take it home,” she told him. “You have to come back with it the moment it hatches, though!”

“I’ll try my best,” Hau said with a laugh as she turned on her heel to head back towards the main Paradise building.

“Hau.”

He froze. It’d been years since he’s actually heard Lusamine speak, much less towards him, but he would recognize her voice any day. Lillie turned around, a question obviously in her eyes, but Hau shooed her on. Whatever Lusamine had to say, it was for his ears only.

He faced her, chiding himself for his fight-or-flight response. Regardless of what happened a decade ago, he should at least hear her out.

Lusamine looked so small and worn, hardly the pristine and sharp force she had been years prior. Her Clefable was at her side, one of its small hands gently helping to steady her. In its other hand was a Heal ball, perhaps its own.

“I have a favor to ask of you, if you would let me speak. I know we’ve never been on the best terms but I feel you are the only one who could do this for me.”

Hau said nothing, but also did not walk away. Lusamine seemed to gather herself for a moment before she continued.

“Though Lillie has little interest in being a trainer now, she did have a Pokemon when she was small. Gladion did as well. Their father and I decided that it would be best for them to grow up with Pokemon by their side, especially as we weren’t always around due to researching the Ultra Wormholes that seemed to be popping up more frequently. We let them pick out their own companions and helped them capture them since they were so young. Lillie caught a Lillipup, and we had a a bit of hard time for a while after she named it Lillie as well.”

Lusamine paused, a bit of a wistful smile ghosting across her face. A bit of prodding from the Clefable encouraged her to continue.

“Gladion had a harder time deciding on his companion,” she explained. “Mohn took him along on a trip to the observatory on Mount Hokulani one night to collect some data readings. An Ultra Wormhole opened up nearby when they were there and in the chaos and confusion, Gladion disappeared. They finally found him behind the observatory and in his arms was a Cleffa.

“From then on, he and that Cleffa were inseparable. It eventually evolved into a Clefairy because their bond was strong. They would have never separated willingly, but between my own insecurities and Nihilego’s influence, I tore them from each other, along with Lillie’s Lillipup. It wasn’t long after that Gladion fled from the Foundation with Type: Null. Perhaps he thought that he would be able to one day save his and his sister’s Pokemon if he became strong enough. I’m not sure if he even remembers her, to be honest, but I would like to right a wrong in the only way I can.”

The Clefable approached Hau and held out the ball with both hands. He crouched down to accept it.

“I’ve tried to get her to leave me over and over, but she refuses,” she told him. Her voice was starting to tremble. “I don’t know why. Even when I left her for years, even when she saw him again, she refused to leave. Maybe she thinks this is what he would have wanted, for her to take care of me and put our family back together.

“The only thing I can do now is to maybe give him back a piece of what I took from him years ago. A while ago, Clefable approached me with an egg. I can only assume that it was hers, as it hatched into a very small Cleffa. I would like him to have it, but he would never accept it from me. Please, pass this along to him.”

A tear escaped down her face and she furiously rubbed it away. The Clefable tottered back to Lusamine and took her hand to lead her away.

��Lusamine,” he called after her, and the pair stopped. “What happened to Lillie’s Pokemon?”

“I believe Mohn has it,” she said. “He managed to take it with him when he disappeared years ago. It’s a Herdier now. He’s tried to convince it to return to Lillie as well, but it seems content to help him out on the Pelago.” She turned to leave again, but paused. “Thank you, Hau. For making him so happy.”

He watched Lusamine and the Clefable leave hand in hand back towards the Aether mansion, and the ball softly rocked in his hand.

He found Gladion down in the labs, hunched over a touch screen with his hair in a bun and glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He swept images to the side as he jotted down notes in a notebook. Silvally seemed to be napping peacefully behind him, but was more likely than not on guard against any of Faba’s machinations. He was most likely trying to wrap up the Mew sequence research to a point that someone would be able to take his place for however long he was going to be in Sinnoh.

It was only Hau’s hand on his shoulder that snapped him out of his reverie. Gladion flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself.

“Sorry,” Hau apologized. “I didn’t realize that you were that into it.”

“It’s fine,” Gladion told him and pushed himself away from the screen. He pulled off the glasses and let them hang from a lanyard around his neck. “I don’t usually see you down here. Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Hau said and after making sure they were alone, shut the door to the lab. Without the bright lights of the hallway, the room was only illuminated by the blue glow of the screens. “I was given something today that was for you.”

He held out the Heal ball.

Gladion gave him a curious look and took it from his hands. Immediately, the ball sprang open in a burst of light and a small Cleffa now sat at Gladion’s feet. It reached out for his leg and rubbed its face against his pants while humming softly. Gladion stared at it in shock before finally looking back up at Hau.

“Did she put you up to this?” he finally snapped. Sensing the change in mood in the room, the Cleffa whined as its eyes began to water. Despite his anger, Gladion reached down to scoop it up.

“Would you be willing to listen to me before you blow a gasket?” Hau asked him tersely.

“She can’t just buy her way back into my life, Hau,” he snarled, “and I’m not going to let her use innocent Pokemon as bargaining chips!”

The Cleffa began to wail.

“I don’t think it was her idea, Gladion!” Hau exclaimed and irritably tugged at his pony tail. “I mean, yes, she did approach me but this wasn’t entirely her idea.”

“Then whose was it? Mohn’s?”

“Try that mother of that Cleffa.”

Gladion froze, eyes wide. Sufficiently taken down a peg, he rocked the upset Pokemon back and forth in his arms until its crying dissolved into quiet hiccups and whimpers.

“She told you about my first Pokemon, then.”

“She did. Clefable was the one who gave me the ball, though.”

“She never came back to me. Even after Lusamine left, after there was no one else for her to belong to, she still didn’t want to come back to me. She just waited until Lillie finally took her with to Kanto.”

“Maybe she knew someone else needed her more. You had Silvally at that point. Your mother didn’t really have anyone.”

The Cleffa startled in Gladion’s arms as tears fell on its sensitive ears. Distracted from its own misery, it started to sing softly and tried to reach up to touch his face.

“I don’t know why she would want me to forgive Lusamine, out of everyone. She had a front row seat to everything that happened.”

Hau knelt by Gladion’s chair and reached up to help the Cleffa wipe away his tears.

“Maybe it’s not necessarily about forgiving her, Gladion, but starting to heal yourself from everything that happened,” Hau told him softly as he softly kissed his forehead. Delighted at the show of affection, the Cleffa started to sing a bit louder.

“Maybe. I don’t think I can do it alone, though.”

“I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”

Gladion smiled, the biggest smile Hau had ever seen on him, as he buried his face into the Cleffa’s fur.

#haudion #cutebonesshipping #sunandcloudshipping #hau #gladion #pokemon #fic

[rawralittlerawr]

ONE OF THE STORIES ABOUT THE ABUSE GOING ON IN A SCHOOL A FEW MILES FROM ME!

IT MADE ME SICK! THE COMMUNITY IS GATHERING, PROTESTING, SPEAKING OUT THAT THIS ABUSE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. IT HAS BEEN MONTHS SINCE PROOF SURFACED WHEN A SUSPICIOUS MOTHER SENT HER NONVERBAL AUTISTIC DAUGHTER TO SCHOOL WITH A RECORDING DEVICE IN HER HAIR. THE SCHOOL/POLICE TRIED TO SWEEP IT UNDER THE RUG. THEY ONLY PLACED THE TEACHERS ON LEAVE AFTER THE MOTHER POSTED CLIPS OF THE AUDIO ON FB BECAUSE WEEKS HAD WENT BY WITH NO ACTION FROM OFFICIALS. AS OF RIGHT NOW THE TEACHER HAS RESIGNED. THE TWO AIDES ARE STILL ON PAID LEAVE!! NO OTHER ACTION HAS BEEN TAKEN!

WE NEED JUSTICE FOR THESE INNOCENT CHILDREN!

NATIONAL

’I’ll punch you in the face’: Special ed teachers caught verbally abusing children in graphic recordings February 9, 2019 at 12:15 AM CST - Updated February 9 at 12:15 AM

BERKELEY COUNTY, WV (WJLA/CNN) - A mother says she was sick to her stomach after hearing secret audio recordings that caught three special education instructors in West Virginia casually threatening children with violence, insulting them and even withholding food.

The disturbing audio included the teachers, all women, verbally abusing children, saying things like, “I ought to back hand you right in your teeth. How is that for anxiety?”

The recordings were taken at Berkley Heights Elementary School in Martinsburg, WV. The teachers are now on leave.

Amber Pack sent her 8-year-old daughter to class with a recording device, hidden in her hair, after the child didn't want to go back to school.

It picked up one teacher saying, “I’ll punch you in your face,” and another using vulgar sexual language with a child.

"You got to go pee pee? Pee pee? Or do you not have to go pee pee and you just want to go j--- o-- in a chair?" the second can be heard saying.

That same instructor told another child, “I’m going to pull your hair until you start crying” and called one a “wench” and a “pygmy.”

A third called a child an “animal”

In many of the audio clips, the children appear to sound distressed, even crying.

The day after hearing the recordings, Pack alerted the school district and the Martinsburg Police Department.

She said she thought the verbal abuse had to have been going on a long time, noting that all that was caught just the first time she sent her daughter to school with a recording device. "One day. Eight hours,” she said. You can hear the instructors sometimes going through the day as normal, singing songs and reading stories to students.

Then, they’ll lash out. "How your tears dried up so quickly, crocodile,” one says to a child. “I'm a knock you out,” that same instructor says to another child.

Pack said after hearing the recordings she “couldn’t eat for three days.” "I was so upset. Every time I looked at her I would start crying,” she said.

Another mother of a child in the class, Kasey Murphy, said during a late October parent/teacher conference nobody alerted her to the recording, even though Pack had already handed it over to the school district.

"I've never heard from the principal. Never heard from the superintendent. I've never heard from any of them,” Murphy said. It wasn't until November, after Pack posted a clip of the recording herself on Facebook, that Murphy and other parents became aware of it.

In one of the clips, an instructor can be heard directly addressing Murphy’s 6-year-old son Owen, telling one child she’s going to “beat your butt” and then telling Owen he also was going to "get one just… just cause.”

"it's sickening,” Murphy said. “People don't even talk to animals like that, and they are talking to non-verbal children who don't understand why they are talking to them like that. They aren't doing anything wrong." On the recording, the instructors tease and refuse to give Owen food.

"Growl at me. I dare you and you won’t get one. Go ahead. There is nothing says I have to give you a snack. Nothing,” she says. Another instructor eggs the first teacher on. "Looks like you get nothing Owen. Ha ha. Sorry buddy,” she says.

The Berkley County Prosecutor's Office found no criminal wrongdoing, but County Prosecutor Catie Wilkes Delligatti told Murphy, “I am not in any way condoning the verbal treatment of your children by the individuals in the classroom.” Right now all three instructors are on paid administrative leave.

"I don't understand why you treated her the way you treated her,” Pack said of her daughter. “She didn't deserve that. No kid does."

The school district is still investigating, and says state law prevents them from sharing information. The federal Department of Education is also getting involved. One of the three instructors reached for comment said she had none. The children are now in new classrooms, with new teachers, and the parents said they’re doing great. Copyright 2019 WJLA via CNN. All rights reserved.

PLEASE SHARE! MAKE THESE TEACHERS PAY FOR WHAT THEY DID!

#justiceforadri #justice #noexcuseforabuse #stopabuse #school system #corrupt school #corrupt system #bad teachers #teachers who are bullies #teachers #nonverbal #autistic #autism #bullies #bullying #abuse tw