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kkoralina · 1 month

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"This war bores everyone, doesn't it?

I'm not bored, because I'm convinced that if we're bored with war today, we'll will have it at home in a few years' time. There are many signs of this, even President Biden says so - if Ukraine falls, the NATO countries will be next. Poland, on the other hand, is not a country on the eastern flank, as is sometimes said, Poland is a NATO front country. Therefore, I am convinced that we should support Ukraine's armed forces in our own interests too. I will continue to do so in the future as best I can.

As some of you may know, at the beginning of this year I organized a fundraiser to which you contributed more than 150 000 EUR zlotys: With this I bought 4x4 vehicles that I prepared for the conditions on the front, bought drones, including a Matrice with a thermal imaging camera for more than 20 000 EUR, bought rifle accessories, night vision devices, scopes, generators and many other things which, thanks to the indispensable Monika Andruszewska, I personally brought to the front, to the trenches and into the hands of the soldiers fighting against Russia.

I was at the front three times in Ukraine. I wrote two essays about this experience, which were published in Polish in Gazeta Wyborcza, in German in Neue Zuercher Zeitung and (one of them) in English in The Point. Links in the comments.

So everyone is bored with this war. But I think of my buddies I've met in this war and they can't be bored with the war. So I recently asked one of them, Dima from the Marine infantry, who is in the south right now, on the banks of the Dnieper, what they need.

"What do we need? Man, FPV drones and REBs. That's the most important thing right now," replied Dima.

"Look. A mortar shell costs about one thousand euros. An FPV drone costs between five hundred and one thousand euros. To hit something with a mortar, we have to fucking fire ten grenades. And an FPV drone only needs one. Do you understand what the difference is?

FPV drones are weapons that are as improvised as they are deadly. They are created mostly from Chinese components and assembled by volunteers, specialized companies or units themselves. Their sole purpose is destruction - the entire design is subordinate to this purpose. On the back of the drone are the battery and antennas of the video transmitter (which usually uses an analog rather than digital signal that is more resistant to jamming), underneath are the quadrocopter's propellers and motors, and on the belly is the payload - a bazooka warhead, a mortar shell or something else. All of this is held in place by zipties.

The pilot usually works with a navigator and a second team flying an observation drone to get a wider view. The drones have a range of about fifteen kilometers, depending on the size of the payload. Their advantage over commercial drones, which cost at least three thousands eruos and from which small shells are dropped, is the weight of the explosive charge or the effectiveness and, above all, the price. The ZSU loses thousands of drones every month - an FPV drone is six times cheaper and much more effective than a Mavik or Matrice with a grenade. Their mere presence on the front line changes the whole situation:

"With an FPV drone I can easily fuck up their tank, a IFV, cars and pick-ups, even while they are on the move, which is rather impossible with a mortar", Dima told me. "For this reason, Russians has to keep its machines at a distance, with tanks they shoot from afar, but they are afraid to drive up, because everything we notice can be destroyed. They keep everything at least ten kilometers away from the null. The topic of FPV has been around for a year or a year and a half, but now we have the problem that Rustia has more of it than we do. So you can understand it yourself. The whole machinery of the empire is working with them for this, the Chinese are helping them, you know?

Every war has its swords, it also has its shields.

Shields against drones are jammers. The Ukrainian soldiers, like the Russians, call them REBs - РЕБ, stands for "Радіоелектронна боротьба", radio-electronic warfare.

"There are many types of REBs. The Russkies have great radio-electronic warfare systems, and in this field they have an advantage over not only us, but over everybody else," Dima continued to explain to me in a signaled voice. "Their jammers are such big machines, with a big antenna that are easy to identify, and we have destroyed many of them for them. That's why they use such smaller ones now, they call them "trenchers', and they drown out everything, right? All communication channels. And the antenna is barely visible. Well, and now we need some that can be mounted on cars, and for us, in the naval infantry, also on the boats that we sail across the Dnieper. We, the pilots, are on the right bank and our infantry on the left. For them, the entire supply goes by boat, and you can't hide on the water. Without an REB, as you understand, such a boat is doomed."

But REBs can't be just any kind. In one airborne brigade I know, the guys were sitting in positions a few hundred meters from the borders of Bakhmut, of which they were among the last defenders. The whole platoon share the cost with their own, private money and bought the cheapest REB, because the Russians were attacking them from the ruins of the burnt city with whole waves of FPV. For three days after the purchase, they rejoiced at the sight of Russian drones dropping far in front of their positions, drowned out by the REBs, without harming the boys. On the fourth day, the Russkies changed their frequency and a drone flew directly into their trench.

This terrible war will end successfully if we get bored, not with us, but with the Russians. That's why I want to help my Ukrainian friends to make it a bit more unpleasant for the Russians.

That's why I'm appealing to your generosity once again: donate, please. I will use everything I can raise to buy FPV drones and REBs from trustworthy and military-proven suppliers. Then I'll put everything in a car and, together with Monika Andrushevskaya, personally take it straight to the trenches, to the units we've already helped, namely

- 72nd Mechanized Brigade, where I spent most of my time,

- the 77th Airborne Brigade, where a company is commanded by my colleague Dzhura, whom you've already met if you check my social media from time to time

- to the naval infantry in Kherson,

- to the special forces, to Omega and other SSOs of the ZSU."

Szczepan Twardoch

#ukraine #easter

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tenebraevesper · 2 years

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Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer, Issue #25: A Sudden Shift

Finally, we are slowly reaching the ending of the Metal Virus Saga with The All or Nothing Arc. Get ready for some moments of pure awesomeness!

We start out with Knuckles on Angel Island (long time no see buddy!), who observes something in the sky, recognizing it as a Restoration shuttle. Suddenly, someone jumps off, landing right in front of Knuckles.

It is Sonic, and holy Hell, he is in a bad condition. The Metal Virus has almost covered his whole body, one eye already red. Knuckles is worried, but Sonic waves him off, telling him how Amy and Tails will explain the situation while he runs off. Knuckles already feels there’s something iffy with the situation.

Meanwhile, at the Faceship, Starline has called the Zeti, allowing them to step on it. Eggman is furious, calling Starline a traitor, but Starline notes how he brought the Deadly Six to help them. Eggman, in return, unleashes Metal Sonic upon them.

Naturally, things go wrong, as Zavok easily stops Metal Sonic, taking control over him. Starline notes how he brought the Zeti to control the Zombots and as he gets surrounded, he uses the Cacophonous Conch to deal with them. The Zeti stop, ears hurting due to the sound, but when Starline attempts to order them to get back in line, Zazz just slams his head against Starline’s and Zeena grabs the Conch. On the sidelines, we also see Orbot and Cubot getting a call from someone... someone familiar.

Meanwhile, Starline is baffled, with Eggman yelling at him how the Conch only works as long as his lungs last. Again, Starline is an idiot. Zavok decides to get rid of them using Metal Sonic, but Starline gets himself and Eggman out via the Warp Topaz.

Zazz is annoyed they got away, but Zavok points out how they gained control over the Faceship, the means to create the Metal Virus and, most importantly, the Chaos Emeralds. He then grabs the purple Emerald, claiming its power as his own.

Zavok’s attention then turns to Orbot and Cubot, who quickly hail him as their new boss. Cubot wonders what is going on, with Orbot quickly noting how this way, they won’t be controlled by the Zeti. Zavok wonders whether they would really serve him freely, with Orbot noting how they’re literally spineless, so why not? Meanwhile, above them, we see Rouge. Being the best spy she is, she gives Orbot and Cubot a thumbs up, having already infiltrated the place.

Zavok then gives the other Emeralds to the rest of the Zeti, their powers increasing, and they all head out to control the Zombots, while Zavok sits back on Eggman’s throne, noting how he will end both Eggman and Sonic.

Back on Angel Island, Knuckles is finally Up 2 Speed, being frustrated that Sonic brought trouble to his island - again. Right on cue, a portal opens, with Starline, Eggman and Metal Sonic flying through it. They’re spotted by the heroes, with Amy immediately drawing her hammer.

Just, look at her expression on that panel - forget Sonic, Amy’s about to murder the two!

Sonic quickly stops her, wondering why he would come here without his army and noting how something had happened. So, Eggman will provide them with answers or he’ll infect him personally.

Yeah, Sonic may be merciful, but he is not stupid. Once he reaches his limit, he will take down any opponent. Also, for the future, note how many times Sonic personally interacted with Starline. He met the platypus three times, but only talked to him directly once. This will be part of an important discussion later on, trust me.

Eggman explains how Starline summoned the Zeti, who took over everything, and Knuckles refuses to believe them, while Espio gets a call from Rouge.

Inside the shuttle, the group listens to Rouge, who explains how the Zeti took most of the Chaos Emeralds. Eggman is miffed, wondering how long Rouge had been on the Faceship, with her replying that she was there for a few days and is now coordinating with Orbot and Cubot to steal the Emeralds and form a counterattack. Eggman then gets into an argument with Tails, who blames him, rightfully, for losing the cure and demands Eggman to give him information on his cure. Eggman replies that he doesn’t have one, nor does he need it.

Eggman proceeds to explain that, during his research, he found out the Metal Virus becomes unsustainable as it mutates. Everyone infected will slowly disintegrate, giving them about 200 years of time for that to happen. Eggman’s plan here was complete evacuation to a different planet.

So, those who say that Eggman doesn’t really have any foresight? He kinda does, but this one only involved him escaping and leaving the planet barren. But before that, he hoped that he would at least be able to control the Zombots.

Silver then arrives, completely beaten up and bruised, confirming what Eggman has said, as the future is completely lifeless. He regretfully informs Amy how he couldn’t save anyone and fears that his timeline is doomed because of his failures here.

We then see a scope trained on Eggman, and find out it is Whisper, about to snipe the guy. Forget Sonic and Amy, we got Whisper here who wants to murder Eggman as well.

She is, however, stopped by Cream and Omega (or rather, his head). Cream tells Whisper that she understands that Whisper hates Eggman, but they need his and Sonic and everyone else’s help to bring cure the Zombots. Honestly, my heart breaks for both Cream and Whisper. They both cry, while Omega just tells them how he doesn’t feel lonely, he feels enraged. I feel ya, Omega.

We then observe everyone outside of the shuttle, trying to come up with a plan. Sonic is keeping the virus at bay, and literally running on fumes. Starline notes how they could use the Master Emerald to neutralize the Zeti, but Tails replies how they cannot move it without risking the whole island falling down, and Knuckles just refuses.

Espio suggest Chaos Control, but Silver notes how Shadow is the Chaos Control expert, adding how it cannot change things, just move them.

Amy brings up Super Sonic, but Sonic shots it down, saying how, regardless of the unlimited power, he cannot just do anything with it (like, I dunno, rearrange an universe? Worlds Collide people, Worlds Collide!).

Eggman also adds how the Chaos Emeralds are scattered between the Zeti, but Amy yells at him how he’s not being helpful. Eggman, however, notes that they could use the Warp Topaz, much to Starline’s shock. All they have to do is pump Super Sonic’s power through the Warp Topaz and warp away the Metal Virus. Amy then reminds him how the Chaos Emeralds are still with the Zeti, and Eggman replies with “One thing at the time”, having obviously forgotten what he said earlier.

Starline responds how he won’t allow it, but Eggman notes how he doesn’t have any say in the matter (with Metal Sonic eyeing Starline). Starline yells at Eggman how he’s the Warp Topaz expert here and what Eggman proposed is completely reckless.

Ehh, Starline? You saw how Eggman handled the Metal Virus, right? Dude is opportunistic, he doesn’t give a damn about being reckless.

Starline then goes into a rant how he carefully built his glove after countless hours of research and reckless use of the Warp Topaz could cause the planet to collapse. He proposes that they’re safe on Angel Island and that they have resources to regain control, but Eggman gives him a reality check: Sonic won’t last long and Angel Island won’t be safe anymore. They’re ending this now, whether Starline wants it or not.

Starline still refuses, opening a portal behind him, only for Metal Sonic to grab him and restrain him.

Once Eggman grabs Starline’s glove, telling him he’s fired, Metal Sonic yeets Starline through the portal. Good riddance, I guess.

Tails wonders whether they should all be okay with this, but Sonic notes how Starline brought Eggman back and tried to blow up him and Silver. Yeah, they’re okay with this. (Again, keep this in mind for way later).

EDIT: HOLY HELL, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR ISSUE #53! IT WAS AWESOME!!

Eggman then gets straight to business. Two Emeralds are on the Faceship, one powering it and the other with Zavok. Rouge, being an expert thief, should handle those.

This leaves the rest. While Espio is unsure how they should deal with them, Silver is a bit more optimistic, saying they’ll just overwhelm them. Knuckles notes how they can still warn each other, with Amy adding how they’ll have to attack everyone at once.

Eggman notes how this shouldn’t be a problem, as he can easily build a multi-portal generator, allowing the Warp Topaz to spawn multiple portals. Tails adds how they’ll need back-up for the mission, with Amy having an idea.

Her idea? Let’s bring in the Babylon Rogues! (Something I totally approve of!)

Eggman doesn’t, but Amy notes how they’re thieves and since they live on a blimp, they can easily avoid the Metal Virus. They’re perfect for stealing the Chaos Emeralds.

Jet decides to antagonize Sonic, who wonders if he’ll help them. Jet replies that he will, as long as the reward is big enough. Wave reminds Jet how, if the Metal Virus takes over, they won’t have anywhere to refuel, get food or steal. Jet is still dismissive, noting how they can figure it out without being goodie-goodies. Storm notes how Jet is the boss, but as his stomach rumbles, he adds how he’d like to eat.

Sonic notes how he understands that Jet has an image to maintain, basically sweet-talking him into needing the help of the Legendary Wind Master. Jet is flattered, accepting the proposal, wanting to one up Sonic. Amy tells Sonic how she won’t tell Knuckles about this one, but Sonic is too tired to care about his own ego.

We then observe the Zeti basically causing chaos and taking control of the Zombots: Zazz enjoying the destruction, Zomom demanding food from the survivors, Zor tormenting the survivors, Zeena using the Zombots as her slaves, and Master Zik continuing the infection.

As for Zavok, he unleashes the Zombots we are most familiar with: Vector, Charmy, Jewel, Big, Tangle, Cheese, Chocola, Vanilla and Shadow.

Honestly, I absolutely love this last shot. It is so creepy, so well-drawn, and you already know some epic stuff is coming our way next time.

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot). However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head.

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.”

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you. You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair.

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him.

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say.

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfic

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theewritingroomm · 3 years

Text

Happy’s Girl

Summary: Happy finally get the courage to ask out Y/N Telford, who happens to be the daughter of none other than Chibs Telford. But neither Happy or Y/N stopped to think about how Chibs would react. Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: Out of character Happy, kinda. swearing. A/N: Happy is probably written out of character but I just love the ‘he’s a bad guy to everyone but her’ trope. Also, for those that wanted a continuation of THIS Happy imagine, this is the whole one shot. Tell me what you think!! Text divider by: @firefly-graphics

Y/N was walking out of the garage office and making her way to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She figured it was one of the guys coming to ask her about something related to the garage or to ask her if she had seen Gemma. Which she had not. But what she was not expecting was to turn around and see Happy standing there, and not meeting her eye. It confused her, she was used to seeing the killer hold a stare with anyone and not back down.

“What can I do for you Happy?” she asked, “Need something from the office?”

“No, I actually just need to ask you something,” Happy paused, taking a second to look around for others. Y/N waited, hoping he would continue.

“I was just wondering if you’d let me take you out?”

As soon as the words left his mouth Y/N’s stomach erupted in butterflies. She had never expected one of the guys, let alone Happy to be asking her out. Especially considering her father had a seat at the same table and the repercussions for dating his daughter were always great. But Y/N could handle her father and his temper, and neither were going to stand in the way of going out with the guy she had been ogling at for as long as she could remember.

With a smile on her face Y/N replied, “Of course Hap, I’d love to.”

A wide smile broke across his face at her words. “Tonight? I can pick you up around 8.”

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Y/N replied, the smile never leaving her face as she got into her car.

Y/N was putting her earrings in when her doorbell rang. She let out an excited gasp as she run out of her bedroom and towards her front door. Sliding to a stop in front of it she took a moment to gather to breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” she said breathless as the door opened to reveal Happy on the other side.

“Hi,” he replied, nearly as breathless as Y/N had been. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stepped out of her doorway.

Happy took a step back to let Y/N lock her front door. He took a moment to admire her figure in the jeans that she had chosen to wear, thinking to himself that she was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with the best ass he’d ever laid eyes on. But that was something he would tell her later.

“You ready to go?” Y/N’s voice broke Happy out of his thoughts.

Happy smiled and held his hand out for her to take. Y/N happily took it, letting him lead her to the motorcycle that sat next to her car. Happy handed her the helmet that was hung over the handlebars before mounting his bike. Y/N followed him shortly after, buckling the helmet as she slung her leg over the bike.

“Hold on tight,” Happy said over his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he revved the engine of the motorcycle.

Nearly thirty minutes later Happy was pulling his bike into the empty parking lot of what looked like a bowling alley outside of Charming. As the two dismounted from the bike Y/N sent Happy a questioning look, as if to ask why the parking lot was empty.

Happy seemed to catch on because he began to speak, “Buddy owns the place and owed me a favor. Figured we’d get a better chance to be more open if no one else was here.”

Y/N simply nodded, knowing better than to question him as to why he was owed a favor. But she also couldn’t fault his thinking, which is why she did not argue with him when he grabbed her hand and led them to the front door.

The door opened easily, indeed opening to an empty bowling alley. However, all of the lights were on and there was even a table set up at the start of one of the lanes piled with different types of food and drink. It shocked Y/N, as she had just been expecting a simple dinner or movie. She never expected Happy to put in so much effort to impress her.

“Happy, this is...” she began, but was quickly interrupted by Happy.

“It’s nothin’.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile on her face, knowing that this man wasn’t going to accept any compliment or praise from her. And she didn’t get the chance to argue with him as he led her to the table. Once there Happy took a moment to set up the scoreboard for their game while Y/N poured them both a small glass of beer from the pitcher on the table.

“And we’re all set.” Happy spoke as he turned around to face Y/N who was unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

Nearly four hours later the two of them were walking up Y/N’s driveway and to her front door. Y/N was still unable to rid her face of the smile that she had been sporting all night. From the surprise that was the bowling alley to the good food and great company she could not have asked for a better date.

“I had a great time tonight,” Y/N said as Happy walked her to her door after what she would consider a pretty good date.

She turned to face him when they reached the door, smiling up at him. He gave her a small smile in return, the emotion actually reaching his eyes.

“I did too,” Happy replied, taking a step closer to her so she was less than an arm’s length away from him. He reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, watching her e/c eyes flash to his lips.

Happy took that as all the invitation he needed to lean down and brush their lips together; not kissing her yet giving her the chance to pull away is she wished. But Y/N didn’t pull away, instead she placed on of her hands on the side of his face, casting one final glace into his deep brown eyes before pulling him the rest of the way to her, slotting their lips together.

It was a soft, deep kiss. One that knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs and had her craving for more. Despite the feeling deep within her she pulled away, smiling as she could still feel the kiss on her lips.

“Wow,” she breathed out against his lips, touching her forehead to his.

Happy chuckled, pulled back a little more to look her in the eye, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

Y/N nodded, “Pick me up next Friday at eight.”

As the weeks went on everyone could see the change in Happy’s demeanor, but no one was complaining. They all just wanted to know what girl had Happy so whipped. So, while sitting at the clubhouse bar a few weeks later Tig decided to ask.

“Hey Hap,” Tig started, waving the larger man over, “I’ve got to ask man, whose got you so pussy whipped?”

The handful of men around them laughed, including Jax and Chibs. Happy looked from Tig to Chibs, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to anger the Scotsman. But he soon realized that that was going to be next to impossible as the woman he’s been seeing is none other than his daughter.

So Happy decided to bite the bullet and come clean. He’d rather Chibs knock him to the ground now rather than later, or in front of Y/N.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, knowing that they all heard him. That much was evident by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“My fuckin’ daughter,” Chibs seethed as he got nose to nose with Happy. Happy nodded as the club house went silent. “Ya’ bangin’ my fuckin’ kid!”

“Dating,” Happy replied, not backing down now. “We’re dating.”

Chibs shook his head, anger pouring off the man in waves. “No, end it now. She’s not dating a Son, she deserves more than this life.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Happy began, “She deserves so much more than I can give her, and I’ve tried to tell her than. But she’s chosen to stay.”

Happy took a deep breath, shocked with himself for feeling so many things about this situation and his girl, he wasn’t used to it. “I think I may love her,” he continued.

The clubhouse went deadly silent. No one dared make a sound as the anger rose in Chibs, rather many of them took a step back just as Chibs brought his arm back and slugged Happy across the face, sending the larger man stumbling back a step or two. Gasps and exclamations broke out of the men surrounding Happy and Chibs, waiting to see what would happen next. Many of them expected Happy to come back and lay Chibs out, none of them would blame him if he did. But Happy didn’t do anything but wipe what little blood escaped the cut on his lip.

“I’m not gonna fight you brother,” Happy said, putting his hands up near his chest. “It would kill her to know we went at it. But I’m not gonna lie to you brother, I think I love her.”

Chibs was seething, he didn’t want to hear anything Happy had to say especially when it came to his daughter. His daughter who he loved with everything in his heart, who he so desperately wanted away from the club life, his little girl. He wanted to hit Happy again but knew that he was right it would tear Y/N up. So instead Chibs turned around in a huff and walked away from the group of men, storming in the direction of the office near the garage.

Y/N was sitting in the office with Gemma working on paperwork for the garage when the door opened. Both women looked up from their desks to look at the person who had opened the door, seeing Chibs standing in the doorway.

“Gem, can you give Y/N and I a minute?” he asked with very little emotion in his voice.

The older woman got up from her desk without a word, shooting Y/N a smirk and knowing look over her shoulder. Once the door closed behind her Chibs took a step forward towards his daughter.

“Y/N Telford, how could you not tell me?” her father growled out trying to keep himself from yelling.

Y/N was stunned for a moment. Her father had not talked to her like that since he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school. But she also had no idea what he was talking about, there was a lot that she didn’t let her father know simply because it would give him a heart attack if she did. And she let him know that.

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb wit’ me. I know,” Chibs let out a long, angry breath. “I know your screwin’ Hap.”

Y/N looked at him stunned, “And? We’re dating, what’s the big deal?”

Chibs stood there with his mouth open, stunned himself. He wanted to yell at her but refrained, knowing there was probably already a crowd of bikers standing outside the door.

“He’s a goddamned Son, Y/N! He’s done things that most can’t come back from. He’s just no good for you.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up from her desk chair. She wanted to meet her dads eye, show him that she’s still the spitfire that he had raised her to be.

“None of that fucking matters Dad. You’re a Son, you’ve done the same things and I never look at you any different.” She took a step closer, “So why the fuck does it matter that its Happy? He’s more than proven that he will be able to take care of me, to keep me safe. And he makes me so happy Dad, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted for me to be happy?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears from forming or falling. She didn’t want to argue with her dad especially not over something like this.

“Of course, I want you to be happy,” he nearly shouted, “But not with a Son, not with someone who could be putting you in danger.”

“This fuckin’ club is my family because of you and that’s why there’s always a chance that I’m in danger. So why shouldn’t I find a guy who can make me happy and protect me against the people that are after me because of you?” Y/N sighed as she looked at her father. He stood in the same spot with the same amount of rage behind his eyes. “Forget it, I’m not going to keep arguing with you.”

Y/N pushed her way past her father, catching his shoulder on her way to the door. She ripped the door open and watched a dozen men outside attempt to look busy as she stomped through the parking lot. No one attempted to stop her instead letting her storm to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Everyone cut their eyes to Chibs who still seemed to be fuming as the roar of a motorcycle’s engine roared through the air. Signaling Happy had decided to follow Y/N out of the parking lot.

Y/N slammed her front door as she walked into her house her anger at her father coming to the surface. She was livid with her father; he had no right to be that angry at her for dating someone. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was an adult who was completely capable of thinking for herself and making her own decisions. She didn’t need her father to tell her want to do anymore, so why he thought he was still able to was astonishing.

“Babe?” Happy’s voice sounded through the house, reaching Y/N in the kitchen and breaking her from her thoughts. However, she did not respond to him scared that if she did she would end up crying or screaming.

“Baby,” he tried one more time as he stepped foot into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw Y/N leaning against her countertop with her eyes closed, practically shaking. As he moved into the kitchen Y/N didn’t react to her boyfriend, not until he was directly in front of her and pulling her into his arms.

“Why does he have to be such an ass?” Y/N mumbled into Happy’s chest as she wrapped her own arms around Happy’s torso.

“Because he wants what is best for his baby girl.” Happy rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s back as she tightened her arms around him. “And I’m not that.”

Y/N looked up at Happy with wet eyes, the fear of him breaking up with her running through her mind, “But you are Hap, you’re the best guy I could ever ask for even if you are a little rough around the edges.”

Happy cracked a small smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did he thought to himself that they were going to be okay, the two of them would get through this and Chibs would pull his head out of his ass eventually.

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bodyswapmischief · 4 years

Text

Chemical Warfare Weight Gain

As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.

I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.

With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.

By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.

My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.

Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.

As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.

With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.

As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.

Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.

I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.

I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.

"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.

How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."

I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."

"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.

They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.

However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.

Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.

My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad

I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.

When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.

My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.

So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.

Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.

In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.

They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.

Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.

Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.

#body #male #swap #transformation #stories #tf #mischief #story #gain #magic weight gain #weight #weight gain

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threadsketchier · 4 years

Note

So I saw the prequels prior to the Originals and it always bothered me how Luke got dumped on a death planet of Tatooine considering the state of that environment and shot that when down in the previous films while Leia got a life of privilege. I was hoping Bail would argue against splitting the twins. I obviously knew why it had to go that route because it had to align and follow up with the Originals. I guess it came off that Luke wasn’t really wanted...?

I already wrote a ficlet somewhat addressing this misconception.

Also, frankly, I’m getting kind of tired of rehashing the same issue - why do people keep assuming that the Larses don’t matter and don’t have a right to be in Luke’s life just because they live on Space Australia? Why do their feelings not count just because they’re low-to-middle-class moisture farmers who don’t live in a palace on Space Switzerland-Utopia? Why the fuck do people assume that Luke wasn’t wanted just because the Organas have a personal preference that was obviously previously established before shit hit the fans and they wanted a daughter and Bail, as a senator and Viceroy - essentially co-leader of his planet - is a fucking rational guy who understands the necessity of making hard decisions dictated by logic over emotions?

The twins weren’t just “split up because that’s how the movies have to go,” it does make internal sense within the narrative that it was safer to hide them in vastly separate locations to prevent both of them from being discovered at the same time and thus lost together, or for their latent Force bond to make them a psychic target if they grew up together and established it, acting like a beacon for Vader and Palpatine and any minions of theirs. It sucks, it’s painful, it has awkward consequences for them later on when Leia’s a bit too loose with her lips, but that’s why these movies have a tragic backstory. It has to suck real hard before it gets better.

Does it seem crazy that Leia wound up raised in such a screamingly obvious position as daughter of a then-Imperial Senator and princess of a highly prominent Core world being trained to follow in her biological mother’s footsteps and become a senator herself, thus occupying a very exposed role in the Empire, right under the Emperor’s and Vader’s noses? Yeah. But also remember that the Superman/Clark Kent illusion can actually work in real life. Assumption is a powerful thing. Your average Joe Citizen would assume that someone as otherworldly as Superman, an alien with the ability to fly, strength to bench-press skyscrapers and jumbo jets, heat vision, and other amazing things, would never stoop to living as a normal, humble, inconvenienced human being. It’s not merely the hiding behind a pair of glasses and hunching over a little with a nerdy tone and habits - it’s the entire idea that a Clark Kent could even exist in the same person of Superman. They don’t understand that he was raised as a human and actually desires this life, and doesn’t feel the need to lock himself away permanently in his dope Fortress of Solitude and never interact with the very people he wants to save and protect.

Vader was lied to by Palpatine about the nature of Padmé’s death, but there was no disputing that she actually died. In his crushing despair, Vader accepted with heaps of self-flagellation that his child was dead. He didn’t even know he had two children. In his mind, whenever he saw Leia - surely they were in each other’s circles at least at a distance before Rogue One and ANH - even if she reminded him of Padmé six ways from Sunday, he would not assume she was his daughter, because as far as he was concerned his child was dead. The OT establishes that latent Force-sensitivity also does not automatically make two related Force-sensitives consciously aware of each other until they mutually know one another as being related and Force-sensitive, so not even torturing Leia revealed this to him.

But I’m going off on a tangent. Let’s break this down:

Tatooine is nothing but a source of anguish for Anakin and his personal loathing for the place made it ideal as a hiding place. And no, I’m not just haha joking about sand. He was a slave there and buried his mother there after slaughtering an entire village of natives he knew in his heart that he shouldn’t have. It holds nothing but misery and failure for him.

Yes, Tatooine is abso-fucking-lutely a galactic cesspit. It’s ruled by the most vile mob boss in the galaxy, is rife with nasty wildlife that’s out to kill you, and is haunted by the troubles brought about by strife between colonizers and the native population. It is indisputably a dangerous place. But it wasn’t Tatooine that killed the Larses. It was the Empire. Just because they look like Soft Folks™ doesn’t mean they were - Owen and Beru knew how to take care of themselves, and they certainly knew how to take care of a child in this environment. They survived to middle age just fine, and would’ve kept going if it wasn’t for those fucking stormtroopers. Just because they didn’t live a life of luxury also doesn’t mean they were dirt poor either. When we meet Luke in ANH, he’s a healthy young lad who still has the privilege to fuck off with his buddies around his farm duties. Life may be tough but it’s not squalor and deprivation for him.

But honestly, even if they WERE dirt poor, they’re still Luke’s family, and they very obviously loved him. I almost feel like I shouldn’t have to restate it, but I will: Owen and Beru loved Shmi, and upon hearing that Anakin died and left behind a baby son, why wouldn’t they be moved and compelled to take Luke in, and why wouldn’t they deserve to have the chance to raise him in their memory? Even though they’d be sad that Luke was orphaned, they might even see this as a blessing to be able to raise Shmi’s grandson and Anakin’s son.

As much as he bitched about chores as a teenager, Luke learned damn valuable skills growing up on a Tatooine moisture farm that, coupled with the Force, saved everybody’s asses at the Battle of Yavin, and went on to make him an ideal squadron leader. Wealth and privilege are not always the best foundation, or at least certainly not the automatic one, for a person to learn good character either.

The Organas are human too. Faced with a difficult choice, they decided to take this poignant opportunity to fulfill a dream they’d been deferring for some time. Sometimes parents wish for a specific child, and that’s their prerogative (except IRL they don’t actually get to pick, they get whatever kid they gestate). If they’d taken Luke and let Obi-Wan take Leia, we’d be having the same argument about Leia growing up on Tatooine. There was no inequality in this decision. Bail and Breha wanted a daughter, there was a daughter present among the twins, so they chose her. This does not mean they valued Luke any less. Since the twins couldn’t be raised together for their own safety, it might as well have come down to a coin toss. Bail isn’t evil for exercising a shred of his personal emotions and desires in a situation where he otherwise knew he’d have to restrain himself. Also, he’d be smart enough to respect the fact that both children had actual family elsewhere in the galaxy and wouldn’t think any less of the Larses just because they live on Tatooine. The only way his decision would be careless or heinous was if he knew Luke was being taken to people who were abusive or so destitute they couldn’t even care for themselves, much less a third person, and he did nothing about it - but we know this is not that situation.

How do you feel about non-wealthy people living in harsh places here on Earth raising their children? Would you expect all the rich people in the world to go take those children away from them and adopt them just so they could grow up “privileged” instead? Think about how that sounds for a moment or two.

Honestly, if Bail had tried to argue about taking both twins because he felt taking Luke to his legal family on Tatooine was “cruel” or “neglectful” because of the planet’s “risky environment and poverty,” I’d hope either Obi-Wan or Yoda would have enough sense to smack him upside the head for being so thoughtless as to insult these people for being seemingly beneath him.

There is more to life than money and power/prestige, and Leia’s upbringing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She was no pampered, air-headed royal spending her days sitting idle being hand-fed space grapes while her “poor” brother ate sand cookies. She had to undergo intensive academic, political, and physical training from young childhood in order to prepare her to become a covert Rebel agent while she was still a teenager, as if being a child senator wasn’t already stressful and demanding enough. Sure, she never lacked for anything, but that is an incredible amount of responsibility to saddle on someone who wasn’t even an adult yet (like her bio mother). Luke was blessed with far more freedom and peace in his childhood than his sister. And him living on Tatooine with his father’s surname wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Leia existing within the heart of the Empire while actively engaging in Rebel activities that could have cost her her life, even without getting into the whole “daughter of Anakin Skywalker” business.

Also, just because we joke about Tatooine being Space Australia doesn’t mean every single day of Luke’s childhood was THAT eventful. It was more likely 80% dull farm life and 20% mayhem, and that 20% would be mostly Luke’s fault for being a crazy nut like his parents and getting himself into trouble he could have avoided in most cases. In other words, growing up there might not have been nearly as “deadly” as we make it out to be.

#i am in a Mood™ about this tonight & i don't care #high-sodium post ahoy #i know i have the tag #aunt beru is metal af #but honestly i need a tag for #the larses are metal af #my meta #star wars #luke skywalker #grew up in space australia & it shows #leia organa #owen lars #beru whitesun lars #bail organa #breha organa #classism

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bastardsunlight · 3 years

Text

My buddy over at @sxvethelastdance is doing some deep dive shit on the subject of Liu Kang’s faith in all his iterations—95, games, 2021—so I decided “hey why don’t I do that too?” because I also desire to be one of The Cool Kids™. This is in no way meant to be taken as gospel truth or whatever. It’s mostly for me own records, headcanons-wise, and just kind of a character-building exercise since Lao has become one of my more active/sought-after muses of late. I’ll hide it under a cut because it’s liable to get long

Like my S C H L O N G [cue pornbot invasion]

PS THIS IS GOING TO BE ABOUT MORE THAN JUST HIS FAITH BECAUSE A LOT OF THAT WILL COME FROM UPBRINGING/FAMILY AND WILL ALSO FOCUS ON HIS PERSONALITY AND THE INS/OUTS OF IT

For our purposes (and like, in reality because I DO respect authorial intent to some extent), Shaolin Monks isn’t canon, like at all. Someone had a fever dream and Liu Kang/Kung Lao were bimbos for a few hours. Okay they’re still kind of like that, god bless ‘em, but you get the idea. AIGHT now that’s out the way, let’s get this cue ball rolling.

Okay for starters, games Lao because well he’s only ever appeared in the games (and we don’t usually talk about Legacy Because OOF middle-aged Liu Kang with a hot topic sweater and anger issues—Liu Kangst. You’re welcome [plays a high G on the nearest piano]).

Kung Lao comes from a long, distinguished family who has always contributed to the order of light—they’re founding members, all that stuff. They did not build the academy itself, but the Order started with the Great Kung Lao. OUR Kung Lao is the fulfillment of a prophecy, some vague old thing that told of an ancestor who would carry the “spirit of the Great Kung Lao”. They figure reincarnation, which is a reasonable assumption. If that’s true or not, only Fire God Liu Kang and Lord Raiden know, because they’re the only ones to have met him in person. Whatever the case, Kung Lao is born with the ability to call spirits and channel their energy, their “pressure” to do a variety of things, including teleport, an ability that thankfully did not come until later—can you imagine a teleporting toddler? Good god.

The entire Kung line is blessed with some spiritual power, here and there. Kung Lao is off the charts. His mother, a short time before his birth, has a dream where the GKL came to her and said “this is the one”. He is reaching out to his ancestor from the Realm of the Honored Dead, knowing full well that the once-a-generation tournament is not far off and feeling the pull to Lao like some kind of magnet or doorway. Kung Lao is the strongest spirit-channeler the Kung family has ever seen. His parents therefore name him Lao and with the name comes a great and terrible burden.

He is, naturally, chosen as the generational tithe to the Wu-Shi academy and, naturally, the Order of Light. This is a case of being raised in the faith, knowing little else, but being sharp enough to question some things. Obviously, as a kid, he doesn’t question—he just learns and obeys, trains under various masters, etc. Sometime during his younger years, an orphan shows up at the temple and, being a charitable organization, the elders of the temple take him in and name the boy Liu Kang. Liu and Lao become fast friends and the elders are, of course, pleased as punch to see the Kung’s legacy being a good influence on someone like Liu Kang who, unbeknownst to anyone but them (and Raiden), is the blood of Onaga and in possession of a terrible power himself. It does not occur to them that Lao will not be chosen by the god of thunder to be Earthrealm’s champion. Everyone at the academy trains for this purpose, but in THIS generation, no one even questions that it will be Lao.

Kung Lao is extremely gifted, rarely has to study, hardly tries on all exams and new techniques and masters the strange and deadly weapon that is his signature with relatively few injuries. Combining that with his abilities to move spiritual force and teleport and he is a shoe-in. His faith in the Elder Gods is more of a background hum, at this point and, though he has met Lord Raiden, his faith there, too, is hardly a thought. It’s just part of his life. As anyone who grows up in a faith could tell you, the routines become like breathing.

Liu Kang and Kung Lao grow side-by-side as best friends, confidants, troublemakers (though Lao is absolutely the one cutting class), and, as they grow older and into themselves, lovers.

The first time Kung Lao’s faith comes to the forefront and really shakes is when Lord Raiden choses Liu Kang to be his champion for Mortal Kombat. There is the initial shock, of course, and then there is fear. Mortal Kombat has killed very Earthrealm champion, without exception, since the Great Kung Lao’s second attempt. The legends of Prince Goro are written in the forbidden texts of the academy’s library and naturally, the shaolin rowdy boys have broken in and read them all. Kung Lao meditates for hours, wondering what he did wrong. He is never, at any point, resentful toward Liu Kang himself, who has always been an unfailingly loyal friend, a humble monk, an excellent student, and has, with hard work and perseverance, excelled in HIS classes as well.

The more he considers it, the more his faith in the Elder Gods is shaken—if it was ever terribly solid in the first place. More than that, he begins to mistrust Raiden. Kung Lao determines that, due to the hopelessness of the situation, the likelihood of Liu Kang’s return is almost zero. He has all the faith in the world in how strong Liu Kang is, of course, but those odds are not good. He begins to deeply resent the idea that Liu was chosen as a lamb for slaughter based on factors other than likelihood to win. This is also when the insecurity starts to REALLY set in.

Kung Lao doesn’t realize that Liu Kang views him as equal or superior, seeing how he has never had to study or work at ANYTHING to just nail whatever it is, every time. Kung Lao is one of those young adults who was a child prodigy and is experiencing some SERIOUS burnout in his early twenties. It isn’t that Kung Lao doesn’t know he’s good—he’s very aware of his skill. It comes out as brazen arrogance. No one but Liu Kang can seem to knock him down ANY pegs. His faith, he realizes, has always been in himself and in Liu, in what they’ve built and shared. There is a depth of intimacy in that friendship that goes beyond even the physical—though there IS that.

He’s kind of in the mode of “what have the Elder Gods ever done for me?” (spoiler alert: nothing) and he questions Raiden’s motivations as he slowly adds shit up. Liu Kang is an orphan, of no family, with great power. He doesn’t know if there’s something else to it, but he sees the reactions of the elders of the temple when Raiden chooses Liu and it isn’t “weird that you didn’t choose the kid we groomed from birth to do this” but an almost insane level of like, understanding, as if this was a possible outcome. There is something else up, but he has no way of knowing it. He hates the way Liu just accepts it and while they are still capable of making jokes about the whole situation, he can sense the turmoil within Liu, as well, who is ALSO wondering why Lao wasn’t chosen.

Kung Lao is now the black sheep, the family failure, the one who was beaten out by an orphan. This really begins his “second banana” status and everyone seems to know it. They equate his brash pride to insecurity, which in a way it is, because part of him will always wonder what he did wrong, but they did not know him before. It goes from being part of his personality to being a shield. If he is arrogant and aloof, untouchable, no one will see the doubt and trepidation within. And STILL the Elder Gods do NOTHING. When he sneaks into the tournament, he’s taking matters into his own hands, where he is convinced they have always been.

See, he had been okay with dying for Earthrealm, though he was certain with this power, he wouldn’t—that he could save the place like the ancestor for which he was named. He is not ready to lose Liu Kang.

Aight so caveat here, most of this above was built with a VERY specific Liu Kang in mind and below is 100% riding on that same writer (heh riding). None of this has to, in any way, reflect on anyone else’s Liu Kang—not that I’ve seen a ton of those.

MK2021 for all its faults, had amazing characterization for the heroes, even if some of the cuts, scenes, and lines were a bit ……. Clunky. Kung Lao is clearly a powerful fighter, confident to the point of arrogance, but with the skill to back it up. Even when Cole puts him in the dirt, he hops back up and summons his hat, like “okay cool, now let’s get real” because Kombat is not like a cage fight. This is a man who knows few limitations, is highly skilled, and has clearly been raised in the faith, much like his counterpart from the games. His Arcana is passed through his bloodline, much like that of the Hasashi clan and a few others who have passed out of living memory, likely done in by previous Outworld assassination coups.

The biggest difference between games and 2021 Lao is that the latter is a man who demands proof at every turn, by force if necessary, AND HE IS AWARE OF THIS. His faith rests not in the Elder Gods—not caring much for them or their lack of involvement—but in Raiden himself and only then because he has challenged the god of thunder and was put down pretty soundly. Kung Lao respects ability. He has it, so he therefore expects everyone around him to hold themselves to that same standard.

He is two or three years older than Kang, the young orphan Master Bo’ Rai Cho brought to the temple when they are still children, probably six and nine, give or take. They have no classes together, initially, but Kung Lao ss instructed to keep an eye on him, to help him adjust. The two become fast friends and Liu Kang admires the bejeezus out of his shi xiong, both because of that age difference and the obvious experience gap, and because Kung Lao will ALWAYS go to bat for him.

Kung Lao is well aware of the stakes of this tournament, knows that it is, for the most part, riding on him. This becomes doubly true when Sub-Zero is sent to Earthrealm to start taking out the other champions, one by one, to halt a prophecy. Someone carrying Hasashi blood will upset the balance of the tournament.

He is a dutiful monk, a competent teacher, a powerful fighter, and, alongside Liu Kang, the best hope humanity has for victory. Kung Lao’s resentment, in this universe, is directed primarily toward the elders who sent Kang out into the world after his graduation from the academy as a student (as must all students, some with specific orders, and some with more vague directions) to find his true path. The elders have essentially forced Kang to relive the darkest time in his life and thence, to feel the rage and resentment that has for so long boiled beneath his skin, channeling it into a killing urge. Kung Lao protects Liu Kang from this as best he can and, more than that, he protects the world from Liu Kang.

#aboutlaometa #both of 'em are in here so

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alolowrites · 4 years

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Hands Off

Summary: You’re working at a cantina when a customer gets aggressive with you. Fortunately, your favorite bounty hunter is there to rescue you.

~~~

The crowd was rowdier than usual at the cantina tonight.

Customers shouted their orders at you and you served each one with a friendly smile. Most of the people were regulars while others were just travelers passing by to get their fix along the journey. The cantina buzzed with life as your ears picked up the vibrant sounds of the live band and people’s joyful chatters.

You wiped away a sweat bead running down your forehead before interacting with the never-ending crowd in front of you. By default, you were the captain of this cantina and like any smart captain, you were not running this ship alone. There were other waitresses on duty tonight, each one rushing back and forth with trays of alcoholic beverages for the customers.

You kept the cantina afloat and flowing smoothly each night. You were friendly, warm and kindhearted to anyone who walked through those doors. If they were regulars, you immediately greeted them like family and handed their drink without them having to ask for it. Your personal services kept the regulars coming back for more and, through word of mouth, also attracted travelers to your cantina.

As the place calm downed a bit, you took the time to dry off some beer mugs that were just washed. Just as your turned around, you saw your favorite customer saunter through the batwing doors. Everyone momentarily hushed to glance at the newcomer with only the band softly playing their instruments in the background.

Hitoshi Shinsou, also known as The Puppet Master, was the most notorious bounty hunter in Japan and around the world. Both widely feared and respected among the underground community, Shinsou never failed his missions; he was ruthless, but professional. If there was a high bounty on someone’s head, that person stood no chance hiding from him.

The wooden floors creaked under Shinsou’s massive, black boots. His large, black tench coat elegantly flowed behind him as he strolled inside. He kept his head low with the large, leather black hat shielding his eyes from everyone in the cantina. No one was stupid enough to block his path as the crowd kept a safe distance from the deadly bounty hunter.

They didn’t have a death wish today.

When Shinsou finally approached the counter, his entire right side of his body reclined against it. His right arm held his weight and he crossed his legs to give him some balance. Gently setting the last beer glass on the shelf, you grinned at the man. “Fancy meeting you again, Shinsou.”

The bounty hunter raised his chin and smirked. “You know I can’t stay away from you, darlin’.”

“Oh stop it,” you waved him off while fighting off a deep blush from your cheeks. A playful glint shined across the man’s dark purple eyes as he focused his attention on you. You quickly fixed up his usual drink and slid it towards him. “One glass of the Four Horsemen.”

His gloved hand grasped the cup. “You know me so well.”

“What kind of bartender would I be if I didn’t know the bounty hunter’s favorite drink?”

“An awful one,” he quipped, savoring the strong taste running down his throat. “Fortunately for you, I really wouldn’t care. Any chance to see your exquisite face is enough for me to keep coming back.”

“Okay, Romeo,” you rolled your eyes, but you felt your heart tug at his words. The first time you met Shinsou was roughly a year ago. You heard rumors about him from fellow travelers, each one describing new details about the infamous bounty hunter. You didn’t really believe them and thought he was just some silly myth to scare people.

To your surprise, he visited your cantina one late at night. You let your last waitress leave and started encouraging the remaining drunkards to head on home before closing up. When you heard the batwing doors swing, you readied yourself to say ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ but froze as your eyes fell on him. You were awestruck as you recalled the visitors’ stories, their words murmuring inside your head as the mythical creature appeared right in front of you.

He didn’t say much; he just asked for one drink without even sparing a glance your way. Although his words were brief, you caught how husky his voice was which sent shivers down your spine. His brimmed hat covered his eyes, but you noticed the strands of his indigo colored hair spilling out from underneath. You remained professional and served him his beverage before walking away to help the stragglers out of the cantina.

“The money’s on the table,” he muttered, trudging passed you as he reached the exit. Since then, Shinsou returned to your cantina; with each visit, he slowly opened up to you. When the bounty hunter finally warmed up to you, his playful nature shined through. It was the same routine: flirty banter was exchanged between you two at the counter. You made his favorite drink and then he walked over to his table nestled at the corner of the room.

Each encounter strengthened your ever-growing crush on the man, but you knew it would just be that—a silly crush. With Shinsou’s dangerous profession, you were convinced that he didn’t have time to devote himself in an intimate relationship. You remained realistic about the situation, although that didn’t stop your romantic side from crying out each night Shinsou came.

You wiped your cloth on the counter. “Your table is ready.”

“Gettin’ bored with me so soon?” He jokingly clutched his purple vest as if he were hurt. “I’m wounded, darlin’.”

“There’s never a dull moment when I see you, handsome,” you chuckled before strolling away from the bounty hunter. Shinsou grinned as his gaze lingered on your retreating figure. He pushed himself away from the counter and headed towards his table to enjoy his night.

Despite the cantina being very packed, he managed to find you amongst the crowd. He contently sipped on his drink and watched you like a hawk. You sensed his sharp stare without even turning around to face him. Something about him looking after you made you feel safe, protected and maybe even desired? You mentality shook your head, but the excitement rushing through your body overwhelmed you.

‘Damn this crush,’ you huffed as you chatted with a sweet old man who wanted more rum. Nodding, you skipped back to the bar when a sweaty hand clutched your arm.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” He taunted at you before jerking your body close to his. You loudly yelped and angrily snapped your head to see the customer. His mouth reeked of booze and you silently gagged as he brought his disgusting face towards you. “Why don’t you sit down with me and relax?”

You glared at him and squirmed for an escape. “Get your filthy hands off me!”

“Oh come on now,” he drawled, his companions snickering at the scene. The man’s arm snaked around your waist with his claws digging into your hips. “Don’t be like that. I just want to show you a good time, ya know.”

You panicked as his fingers glided down to your thighs. Without thinking, you harshly slapped his face hoping he’d drop you. Your face turned pale as his hands strangled your arms and you screamed in agony.

“You bitch! Who the hell do you think you are?!” He roared at you and you braced yourself for his attack. The hit never came and the man’s aggressive restrain on you disappeared. You peeked through your fingers to see Shinsou’s back towering over you.

The bounty hunter slammed the pervert’s body against the pillar that you heard it crack from the impact. Everyone went radio silent as they waited for the fighting to unfold.

“The lady demanded that you take your hands off her,” Shinsou growled with such ferocity that you quivered from your spot. His gloved hands gripped the man’s collar, lifting him higher; the poor bloke’s legs uncontrollably convulsed and he soon choked for air. Shinsou’s chilling eyes pierced into the man’s soul and crushed any hope for his life.

Shinsou could easily kill him, he was nothing but trash anyway.

Yet he decided against it and released his grasp from your assaulter.

The man collapsed, a loud thud echoing throughout the cantina. He groaned in agony and struggled to hold himself together. Shinsou stared down at him with disgust before grappling the man’s flimsy shirt and dragging him onto his feet. The pervert wobbled for a bit, his eyes widening in horror once he realized who he was gaping at.

“I hope you value your life,” Shinsou sneered at the cowering bloke. “Because if I ever see you touching her again, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Understood?”

The man rapidly nodded as snot trickled down his nostrils.

“Good, now get your pathetic ass out of my sight,” he snarled while shoving him away. The man, with his buddies, scampered out of the cantina and Shinsou sighed. Everyone else slowly returned to what they were doing beforehand as the band’s music hummed in the background again. Some of the waitresses flocked around you to see if you were fine, but you waved them off.

Their concerned murmurs turned into whispers as Shinsou walked towards you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded to Shinsou and both of you headed outside through the backdoor. It was colder than you anticipated and you cursed yourself for not taking your jacket with you. Just when you were going to head back inside, Shinsou extended his arm out and shrugged his coat off.

You blinked. “W-what are you doing?”

“You’re cold.”

“So you’re giving me your coat?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Shinsou don’t be ridiculous, you’ll get cold. I can get my jacket—”

He swiftly draped his large, black coat over you and you gawked at him. You sighed and muttered a quick ‘thanks’ as the heat warmed your body. Your eyes traveled upwards until you landed on his pale face, sheepishly smiling at him. “Thank you for saving me back there.”

“He was bothering you and had the nerve to grope you,” Shinsou spat and you swallowed nervously. Not once were you assaulted while working at the cantina. The customers maintained a respectful distance between you and your coworkers, but of course you feared a night like this would happen. You were just thankful that Shinsou was there and scared him off.

His anger vanished as a small, but sincere smile crept on his lips. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and hesitated on your next move. You knew you had a crush on Shinsou, but what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you scared him away, never to return back to your cantina? You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with the man for something that can’t happen. The cons outweighed the pros and yet…

You went for it.

Quickly leaning forward, you rewarded Shinsou with a soft peck on his right cheek. Realizing what you did, you recoiled back in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry! I-I don’t know why I did that! I’m just…I’m just going to go.”

Shinsou’s hand gently curled around your arm before you stepped back inside the cantina. You whipped your head back only to have his lips capture your own. Flabbergasted, you rapidly blinked your eyes and almost pushed away. However, the deep feelings brewing inside you finally emerged to the surface and you contently sighed into the sweet kiss. You moved closer with your hands circling around his neck.

The bounty hunter pulled back and chuckled. “Took you long enough, darlin’.”

“Wait? You like me!?”

“Why else did I keep coming back?”

“For the drinks?” You meekly answered and Shinsou laughed.

“That was a bonus,” he replied while tenderly drawing you closer to him. His gloved fingers caressed your chin as his violet eyes confidently bore into yours. “But I wasn’t lying when I said I kept returning to see your lovely face. I would have made a move on you weeks ago, but I thought ‘why ruin the fun?’ and decided to let you make the first move once you were comfortable.”

He anxiously scratched the back of his neck. “That and well…I am a bounty hunter. Wasn’t sure how you felt about it.”

“Well the feeling is mutual, handsome,” you giggled at him and cheekily stated: “You being a bounty hunter was just an added bonus.”

Shinsou grinned and pulled you in for another kiss that was deeper than the first. You thanked the lucky stars for never kicking him out of the cantina and serving him his drink on that fateful night.

~~~

As always, thank you for reading this short story!

#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x you #shinso x reader #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha x you #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha reader insert #boku no hero x reader #bounty hunter #bnha au #mha au

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uaklauslovesdave · 4 years

Note

Hi, thank you for sending me asks, I really appreciate it! :D Could you do 002 for klave, I always want to hear your thoughts about them <3

my buddy, my dude, it’s been roughly 17 years since you sent this ask, and i’m oh so sorry for taking this long to answer. it got to be one of those situations where i wanted to do it Properly, which of course brought the anxiety, which of course then brought the avoidance. But we’re here now! it’s a new era and i have a whole bunch of klave thoughts to dump on my unsuspecting followers. let us begin.

when i started shipping it:

Pretty much immediately! I remember first watching s1 and getting that slow confirmation that Klaus time traveled to the Vietnam War. We saw him on the bus with his fatigues and bloody hands and I was like ‘oh god oh no he went to Vietnam didn’t he.’ And then later we have Klaus experiencing flashbacks in the bathtub and there are echoes of the noises of war but also a strong and clear “Dave!” And in that moment my interest was piqued. Dave, he said? Who is this Dave? Is this someone he loved? Did he have a war-time romance with another soldier? And I was hopeful but I also didn’t want to get too ahead of myself because of Queer Baiting in Media reasons (like, I was in the marvel fandom, ok? I went through the whole stucky dance routine). But then, but then! We got more. We got roughly five minutes (or less?) of scenes of Klaus dropping down in front of a disoriented soldier, of this soldier introducing himself as Dave on a bus, of Klaus and Dave dancing in a bar, of Klaus and Dave sharing a kiss in a quiet corner, of Dave bleeding out and dying in the middle of combat as Klaus sobs above him. And it was quick and it was short but it was meaningful and it was tender and immediately I knew that I was gone for them. There was no turning back at this point. I was all in on the Klave Train.

my thoughts:

My thoughts? Where do I even start? I have many! Some are incoherent! Some are devastating! Some are sickeningly sweet! Some are raunchy! Stay tuned to find out!

what makes me happy about them/what makes me sad about them:

So I decided to combine these two questions because, well, I Do Not Know how to untie the happy and the sad when it comes to klave. I tried and I cannot do it. They’re two sides of the same coin with these two. Because their entire relationship is tinted by tragedy, you know? They only met each other because Klaus was tortured and then flung into a notoriously traumatizing war in the 1960s. And who knows what number tour Dave was on. Had he been there for just 2 months or was this second or third time around? I’m not sure which option is more painful, really. And it’s unclear, did Dave genuinely want to serve in the military? Did he truly subscribe to those values instilled by his family? I’d lean towards no, based on the conversation Klaus tries to have with the Younger Dave in the diner. But I think it took Dave some time to get there, as he grew older and came to better understand and accept himself and perhaps grew more and more disillusioned with the life he was pushed into. And then there’s Klaus, whose own experiences somewhat parallel Dave’s (they just happened on a different timeline). Klaus, who grew up under Reginald’s reign of terror, who was taught to be a soldier just like Dave was. But his own disillusionment was expedited and he was able to rebel and remove himself from that scene more easily than Dave could (but at the expense of losing shelter and security and stability). And we have some insights into what it was like for Klaus to grow up in that environment, constantly surrounded by death. When we first meet him he is a person who clearly does not do genuine attachment or sincerity, because that is far too vulnerable and far too dangerous in his experience. He looks out for himself and he does what he needs to do to get by, and he approaches things from a casual, crass (safe) distance. And then there’s Dave, who we learn a little bit about from his interactions with Klaus in 1963 Dallas. He appears earnest and kind, just a Really Good Kid. He seems somewhat confused by Klaus, but also intrigued. Pretty much every time we see Klaus interact with someone in the 1960’s who is not a member of Destiny’s Children they approach him with disdain (referring to him as “pretty boy,” kicking him out of the diner, etc.). But not Dave. Not until he is pressured into it by Uncle Homophobe. And after that Dave seeks him out and apologizes, says that’s not him. And he and Klaus talk, and we see that they really knew each other, they really had a relationship, but by the end of the conversation Dave has been pushed too far. He’s not quite ready to rebel yet, he’s not quite able to make that leap into living as his true self. Just like Klaus, Dave grew up trapped and restricted and surrounded by ghosts. Not literal ones, no, but the ghosts of dead war heroes who came before him, the ghosts of the Ideal Man and Good Son that he thought he had to be, that he thought he had to prove he could become. And it’s not quite clear how and when Dave finally got to that point where he could rebel, where he could finally push past the fear, knock down the walls of the box he had been shoved into. But by the time he and Klaus crossed paths in 1968 Vietnam he was ready. And Klaus was ready. And they brought that genuine, true, real love out in each other. Something both of them probably thought was never possible. Something both of them probably thought was just a myth. Just turning themselves inside out and sharing that with each other. Trusting the other to take care of it and hold and keep it safe. All in the middle of a deadly war. It’s beautiful and it’s painful and it’s why I love them.

things done in fanfic that annoy me:

Nothing really specific comes to mind. Generally if there’s something I don’t like in a fanfic I’ll stop reading and move on. There is, of course, the Fanon Klaus Problem that makes its way into klave fics, so I suppose that annoys me. Or stories where Dave is one-dimensional and seems to exist just to comfort and take care of Klaus. But really, I don’t wanna hate on anyone who writes fanfic in a particular way. You do you. If it appeals to me I’ll read it and if it doesn’t I’ll just pass it by. No big deal.

things i look for in fanfic:

It absolutely depends on the day and what I’m in the mood for in that particular moment. I’m a sucker for angst so I absolutely do not mind reading something terribly sad and tragic. I like hurt/comfort with an emphasis on the hurt. I’m a fan of the GhostDave Watches Over Klaus Through the Years genre. I like stories that explore their time together in Vietnam. I’m into AU’s that include AliveDave traveling back to 2019 with Klaus and they hang out in Klaus’ room in the academy and Dave meets the siblings and Diego gives him a shovel talk. Sometimes I just want that sweet, sweet smut. Mostly I look for something that is both lovely and sad, which is not hard to find because that is, essentially, their relationship. There’s lots of good stuff out there. All y’all writers are talented. I salute you.

my kinks:

Alright, I’m just gonna preface this by saying that I will try my best to be unapologetically open about this, but at my core I am both shy and repressed. My easy and safe answer to this is that my kink for klave is love, happiness, and tender intimacy. That’s what I really want for them. But also. But also! Let them be smutty! Let them find places to sneak away and fuck, Dave’s hand over Klaus’ mouth to stop him from making noise that will alert the other soldiers to their activities. Or maybe they’re sitting under a tarp in the pouring rain and Klaus sees how far he can take it, and Dave doesn’t back down, and it ends up with Klaus blowing Dave while some other guys are sitting just feet away, oblivious to what’s going on between Katz and Hargreeves just over there. And then there’s that time they get to take leave together, and they’re able to get a hotel room, just to themselves, with real walls and a door that locks and a bed and everything. And the digs aren’t great but it feels like a palace compared to what they’re used to, and they absolutely do not waste this opportunity. Dave fucks Klaus into the mattress, and Klaus gets to learn what it’s like to have someone take control because you actually want them to and you feel safe with them, and Dave gets to learn what it’s like to have someone trust you implicitly and be willing to be vulnerable with you. And it’s not perfect, of course, sometimes their histories and understandings of sex and intimacy bump heads, but they love each other, they really do, and they work through it. And they both cry during sex at some point. For Dave it’s the first time he’s done so, for Klaus it’s not (but this is nothing like those other times this is because he wants to be here this is because he’s overwhelmed with love this is a release this is being seen this is being cared for).

who i’d be comfortable with them ending up with if not each other:

Let me be real and say that I really, really, really want them to end up with each other, and I think that this is where the show is headed. But, if that is not the case, as long as they are happy I will be happy. Perhaps that is cliche, but oh well. Just let them experience love and support, whether that’s with each other, someone else, or just on their own.

my happily ever after for them:

I don’t know how and I don’t know when (like seriously, when in the timeline is a big question), but I want them to find a way to be together. Maybe it involves some time-traveling, maybe it involves some timeline-hopping, maybe it involves some Commission interference, maybe one or both of them will be dead, maybe (most likely) it involves something that has not even crossed my mind as a possibility. But, like I said, I think that somehow there WILL be a (perhaps nontraditional) happily ever after for them. It might take some time to get there and I don’t think it’s gonna be a smooth road, but I do think that’s the ultimate destination. And I’m looking forward to the whole process.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Good question! My first instinct was Klaus as little spoon. Because he is Klaus but also because of the Bar Kiss scene where Dave tenderly cradles his face and those Very Important blurry behind the scenes instagram photos of Klaus resting his head on Dave. But I also think it would be really nice for Dave to be the little spoon? Because Klaus gets to hold him and act as a Protector and maybe he can feel Dave’s heartbeat beneath his (hello) hand and he gets to wrap around him and hold on tight and he can let go when he wants to but he doesn’t want to, he wants to stay right here as long as Dave will have him. And Dave will have Klaus wrapped around him, holding on, as long as Klaus wants to stay. Dave gets to be held and cocooned in the arms of this beautiful person he loves. Dave doesn’t have to be strong right now, he doesn’t have to put on the face of the Good Soldier. All he has to do is fall into the space between them.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

I’m gonna say that they had a lot of time to sit together and talk while they were in Vietnam. Sure, they had their duties and sometimes they were in the shit but there was also a lot of down time, just sitting around and waiting for something to happen. And so they’d sit and they’d smoke and they would talk. About their interests, about where they come from, and eventually about the life they would build together after they got out of there. But here’s a specific image that I have: they’re sitting close together, maybe it’s dark, there’s no one nearby. Cigarette smoke lingers in the air, mingles with the fine mist. The conversation has turned to music, somehow. Conversations have a tendency to meander when Klaus is involved, and Dave follows him step for step, never tripping, never questioning how they got there. And Klaus asks Dave about his favorite song, and Dave hesitantly mentions “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence,” like he’s embarrassed, but he’s loved it for years and he wants to be honest with Klaus. And Klaus hums and says he doesn’t know it, hasn’t heard of it, and he leans against Dave, lays his head against his chest. And Dave says, that’s ok, it doesn’t matter, it’s just a stupid old song anway. But Klaus says, no, you should sing it for me, I want to hear it, I want to know it. And Dave scoffs and laughs, but Klaus looks up at him, and then Dave looks away, and his mouth lifts into a smile, something small and fragile. He turns back to Klaus, looks him the eye, and softly, so softly, starts singing, “When Liberty Valence rode to town, the womenfolk would hide…” And Klaus drops his head and shifts closer to Dave and hears the words slip from Dave’s mouth and feels the words vibrate in Dave’s chest. He closes his eyes. There’s a war going on. It’s 1968 and he’s in Vietnam and his clothes are damp but he’s right where he wants to be. The song is not romantic, but it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He never forgets the words.

#these are my klave rambles! they are long and i am sorry! i could not contain myself! i think you got insight into the Incoherent Thoughts!#alright i’ll stop yelling now #thank you again for the ask and sorry again for taking so long #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #an ask and an answer #softforklave

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skvaderarts · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth Chapter 58: Infernal

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Eight: Infernal

Notes: I love writing fighting scenes! It's always such a blast to write the motions and the momentum of a fight! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

(-~-)

In truth, the only thing comparable to the creature's horrendous appearance was its sheer size and magnitude. Standing at a size comparable to that of a small building, its stature was domineering. And with wings that dared blot out the very night sky around them, the creature before them was undoubtedly a demon, although unlike anything they'd previously seen.

Well, that was partially a misnomer. The color scheme matched almost perfectly with that of the devil they had battled against in the subway station with that summoner, both of his devils being very similar in thematic coloration. No doubt they hailed from the same origin point, whatever dark abyss in the underworld they hailed from being one and the same. But even still it was no part of the underworld that either of them was familiar with. Belial and his cronies must have dug deep to locate such foul creatures.

Towering over them and admitting a menacing aura, the gigantic demonic beast was more akin to some sort of sabertooth tiger crossed with a dog than anything else. It snarled and was clearly less than pleased with their presence, but there was a sort of intelligence to the creature that made them wary of simply rushing in and attacking like they normally would. His body was shrouded in a layer of black pulsating darkness that seemed to consist of some sort of flesh, but it was entirely too difficult to tell in these lighting conditions. The same magenta markings marred most of its flesh and wings, and two additional heads sprouted from what appeared to be the shoulders of the beast. A pair of compressed black and magenta wings adorned its back that, if straightened, were probably taller than the building they had just been standing near. All in all, entirely too big of a demon to have accidentally stumbled into the human world. And neither of them needed to wonder if it had been brought there on purpose.

They weren't entirely sure how they had missed something so large initially. Had the devil been laying stomach down on the ground before they had arrived? That was the only feasible explanation considering the fact that they had seen aircrafts smaller than that. Its claws were practically as big as they were, each paw the size of a small family car. And it had four of them. And it had to be said that this was probably the first time either of them had fought a devil with more heads than opponents. If they failed there would be quite the fight between each of the heads to decide who's actually going to eat them.

"So am I safe to assume that you have no idea what this creature is?" V said, putting some room between himself and the creature as it bore down on them. He had no idea what they were up against now, but he was absolutely certain that he was going to need Griffon. He would just wait for the proper time. Perhaps if they were lucky he could use his avian companion to distract the beast while they moved in to fight it. As outmatched as he suddenly felt, he knew that he couldn't leave this creature to roam the city in good conscience. There was self-preservation, and then there was negligence.

A slightly amused look across the face of the man with the red hair as he glanced over his shoulder with a sort of sarcastic flare, seemingly calm and composed and otherwise unworried about their opponent but not quite to the degree that would imply that he considered it an easy fight. He wasn't vain enough to believe that this creature would actually be simple to take down, but he felt somewhat secure in the knowledge that he was able to beat it. He had fought much more dangerous foes in the past, and none of them had managed to overpower him. Perhaps if he was lucky this would be the boost to V's confidence that he needed at a time like this.

"You would be correct in that assumption. I have quite literally no idea what this creature could be. I mean, it's quite obviously a devil for a demon of some sort, but in regards to its place of origin, I couldn't be less knowledgeable. It seems to be something akin to the illustrations and stories that I've heard of the Infernal Devils, but without going through the bestiary that the Ludwig family possesses, I would have no way of being sure." Sirrus seems slightly put off by his lack of knowledge and as to what the creature might be, but he drew his blade regardless, unwilling to even consider the idea of allowing his companion to face such a large and potentially deadly opponent alone. He was not without honor. "I took the liberty of looking into possible demonic species while I was there yesterday, and this seems to be what this might be, but unfortunately, none of those books are exactly in color. Just descriptions of them next to vaguely drawn illustrations, and trying to decipher both the handwriting and translate the language is quite the hassle. You might be worth taking a look at it yourself after we get out of this situation."

"Okay then, so what happens now, genius? Are we just going to run in guns blazing, or do you have a better idea?" The small voice from within his head spoke, clearly realizing just how far and over their heads they might be. It took the young summoner a moment to register that his familiar with speaking to him, but although he didn't outwardly show it, he did consider the statement.

"By any chance, do you recognize this species?" V asked his familiar, cognizant of the fact that a demon might be able to recognize a demon than he did. Griffon's knowledge into some of these matters was foggy at best, what it was still more than he tended to know. He simply didn't have the first-hand experience in most cases.

A long pause settled between the pair of them before he finally got his response. "Hmmm… I think our red-haired buddy might be onto something. I can't say I know much about the Infernal Devils since they're basically legends, but this might be one. Makes you wonder how they opened a gate big enough to let something like this out, though. We better figure that out and quick, or we'll have bigger problems. If this is an Infernal Devil, this isn't even one of the biggest ones I've heard of. Might be one of their more common devils, but again, I can't be sure.

"Do you have a plan of any sort?" V said calmly as they stared down the devil, content in the knowledge that they would quickly become demonic dog chow if they didn't do something about this soon. They were actually somewhat surprised that it hadn't attempted to eat them yet. Perhaps it'd been left here as some sort of century?

Sirrus shook his head. "Not one that I can say that I have much confidence in, but I do have something. Do you have access to your familiar? That bird?"

V felt Griffon stir within the confines of his mind, somewhat miffed it being referred to as a simple bird. He smirked in spite of himself and his circumstances. "Settle down. Be thankful he didn't call you a chicken. That's a change of pace at the very least."

The young summoner could feel his summons ire as he said that, resisting the urge to chuckle to himself. This wasn't the time, and it certainly wasn't the place, but it seemed that their hand had been forced, and they had to do what they had to do to not only survive but to protect the city. They were going to have to battle against this devil whether they were prepared or not.

As he considered this, the devil lunged forward, sinking its paw into the asphalt in front of them and pulling it up in large swaths. The gash it left in its wake was as wide as he was, something that didn't escape his notice. The last thing he wanted was to be nicked by one of those colossal claws, or worse, to be caught in the maw of such a fearsome beast. He would no doubt meet his end swiftly if it were to succeed in that endeavor.

"Let's go with your plan, then. I'm perfectly capable of improvising."

Noticing that it had most certainly been the threatening gesture of the devil that had coaxed him into such an immediate response, Sirrus took the bold step of going closer to the devil, his blade drawn. Naturally, the creature was not at all pleased by his challenging move and swiped at him, its grip coming up empty. In the wake of its confusion, V managed to slip to the side of it, the devil clearly more fixated on its inability to find its received target than it was with keeping up with the other individual that had accompanied them.

Realizing that Sirrus had probably ducked behind a nearby tree, the devil let out a bellowing roar that shook the ruined ground beneath it, its paw crushing the small sapling under its unyielding weight. Sirrus flanked it from the left, charging in and managing to land a decent slash that pierced its ear and caught the side of his neck. It recoiled back in discomfort, causing it to open its wings and blow debris all around them. Caught off guard by the suddenness of his movement, the red-haired man tumbled backward, his back hitting a tree. The wind had been sufficiently knocked out of him, but from what V could see he had been otherwise unharmed. But that meant that it was now his time to step in and turn the tide of battle. Sirrus's selfless distraction had given him the time needed to charge up a more powerful attack, and he was going to use it.

As the devil flew into a rage, V made the decision to focus his attention on the creature's head, coming to the astute conclusion that perhaps causing it massive cranial damage might be enough to bring it down swifter. Under his command, Shadow leaped forward, cutting a swath up the back of the devil and using her full body tooth attack to clamp onto the back of the devil's neck. It immediately lunged up into the air, attempting to shake the demonic panther off of his back to no avail. The second that it opened its wings, Sirrus clamber to his feet and rushed forward, his aim clear. He leaped forward and, with a strong downward streak, pierced the demonic creature's wing, using his body weight to tear a large cut into it. Sufficiently thrown off balance by the lack of aerodynamics it now possessed, it toppled over, shaking him off and slamming him into the pavement with enough force to shatter the bones of a normal mortal. It was clear to both of them that now the devil was incredibly angry.

Astutely aware of the fact that they were rapidly running out of options, V summoned Griffon and directed him to charge his full strength, manifesting in the form of a barrage of waves of electricity that slammed into the devil and charged it with a powerful surge of right electrical power that toppled it onto its side. Shadow released the devil's neck and returned to her master's side just in time to grab him and snatch him out of the way of its flailing tail. Wood and concrete shrapnel flew everywhere, managing to nick him in a few exposed places, but he was otherwise unharmed. Mud and construction materials flew everywhere as the devil thrashed about in a combination of agony and malice, willing and ready to manifest its true power to decimate them in any way that it could.

Just as Sirrus managed to clamber to his feet, he immediately was set upon by the devil again, being forced to run and dive out of the path of one of his furious swipes, nearly being crushed in the process. As V attempted to mitigate the situation, the tail swung back around and managed to knock him across the parking lot and into the street, sufficiently putting him out of commission for the time being. Shadow ran to his aid, and Griffin attempted to do battle solo against the beast, hitting it with another electrical attack, this one manifesting in the form of a crisscrossing pair of lines that originated from a spherical orb. He then dived in and attempted to pester the beast, trying his best to draw its attention away from his host, but to little avail. It seemed that this particular devil would not be so easily tricked a second time. It stood up and tucked its injured wing in, clearly searching for its prey. And considering the fact that V was still attempting to pull himself to his feet and regain his bearings after hitting the back of his head against the curb, he was in no condition to attempt to defend himself. If Shadow could not stop the beast, then it would be far too late for him.

"Quick! We're going to need an assist on this one! Can you get the string bean out of here? At least long enough for me to subdue the big bad doggy here? My guess is that he hasn't been let out for walkies in a while!" Griffin shouted as he flew higher and higher up into the air, leading the devil to stand up on his back legs and attempt to be able to swipe at him more efficiently. One well-placed swing would be all it would take to put him out of commission, and he knew as much. The only advantage he had in this situation was the devil's inability to actually fly after him, but that didn't mean that it couldn't attempt to. This was a dire situation for the entire group, and if they didn't manage to gain the upper hand quickly, they would not only lose the battle, but they would more than likely lose their lives.

"No worries there, I've got him! Sirrus called over, rushing towards the devil from behind in an attempt to waylay it. He had not managed to make it to his feet again quite yet, but he had faced the devil, and it seemed that he had some sort of plan in mind. With the fierce determination that only someone facing down certain death could muster, V held his hand out towards the devil, indicating for Shadow to do her work. Muttering a phrase under his breath that Sirrus had not quite caught from the distance he stood away, Shadow melded into the very ground beneath her and manifested a wall of crushing spikes just as the devil got within stabbing distance. It slammed to a stop, tearing up the street along with it as the spikes pierced its chest and back. It let out a screeching, barking roar of pain and flailed ineffectually with both of his paws toward V as he recalled his avian companion to his side and was pulled back out of the way.

Realizing that this was his best and only chance to end the fight before things became any more destructive, the red-haired adjudicator jumped forward and leaped into the air, using his right hand to brush the edge of his blade. A sort of black flame coated it momentarily before he put both hands onto the hilt of the blade and used his full body force and the momentum of his jump to bear down on his opponent, piercing its skull with one destructive blow. It let out a single agonized cry before its head slammed down into the pavement, causing V to lose his balance but not fall as the shock wave shattered the street several dozen feet in both directions. It let out a sort of raspy, breathless groan before becoming still, blood pooling through the streets and down into the drains as its mouth flopped open and its colossal teeth we came easier to see. They were longer than both of them were tall, put almost together, but they were now no longer a threat. With that pair of decisive blows, they had managed to bring an end to the devil before it had managed to do any further damage, even if it had come at the cost of much exertion and a fair bit of discomfort and physical harm at their expense. But what was most important was that they were no longer in any form of immediate danger, and that neither was the city.

"Well… that was a bit more than I had initially signed on for," V said with a humorous tent to his voice, breathing heavily from the amount of exertion he had just endured. He wasn't so much tired as he was out of breath and seemingly unable to regain it. But he was just glad that they had managed to actually defeat the creature. Once he'd seen how large it had been, he'd had suffered an immediate momentary lapse in confidence in regards to their ability to actually finish it off alone. But they had done it. And there was a part of him that was quite impressed by that. Perhaps it was best that they had done battle against it after all. "But I think the bigger question is where did it come from? It clearly isn't a familiar. I see no core to destroy, and it hasn't been recalled to its master. Was this creature simply allowed to run streets?"

"And if that is the case, what benefit would there be in causing such needless destruction to private and public property? What is our opponent hoping to gain by orchestrating a situation like this?" Sirrus I said as he approached the young summoner, extending his hand and offered to help him up. V allowed him to help him up off of the pavement, shaking his head in minor disbelief at how quickly that situation had escalated.

Griffon fluttered over to join them, lighting on what remained of the street post that set almost coiled around a leaking fire hydrant on the ground, an unfortunate casualty of the battle that had just taken place. He was just as flabbergasted by the sequence of events that it just played out as they were, but distinctly, had some sort of idea as to why this might have occurred. "That's a good point you two just made. The only thing that comes to mind is that maybe that summoner from the train station is trying to flush us out. You know, get us to fight these demons so he could figure out where we are. Maybe triangulate our location? Tire us out, maybe? He's after you, isn't he? I mean, he did try to drag you off at the train station. Maybe he's summoning these demons and letting him run amok so they'll catch our attention and he can swoop in and take you. Underworld's got an awful lot of demons with nothing better to do than run the streets and eat cars and buildings. I don't think he's going to run out of kindling to throw at the flame any time soon."

Both of the young men looked at one another and nodded. Yes, that seemed like a perfectly reasonable explanation as to what had just happened. If the summoner was indeed working for Belial, then he more than likely had the means and the motive to unleash a few demons on the city in the hopes of flushing them out. That sounded exactly like something a deranged maniac would do, and no human who was in the service of a devil prince could be saying anything but. After all, what did they have to gain by assisting with the takeover of the world? A leadership position? What would there be left to lead or to own if the earth was ruled by devils? Something as outlandish as allowing a human to rule anything in a world owned by demons surely would never fly. He would be snuffed out in an instant, nothing more than another meaningless mortal and no more meaningful to the devils that would be in charge than the legions of demonic foot soldiers that would take over the world in Belial's wake.

"If that's the case, then perhaps we should be wondering where that seminar might be able to watch a battle like this from. Perhaps one of the rooftops?"

Sirrus nodded in agreement, looking around at the futile buildings that surrounded them. If he was going to orchestrate a battle between his enemies and a large demon, then a high point would be the best place to view it from. "I think you may be on to something there, V. I think it might be best that we do some reconnaissance. Griffon, might I ask you a favor?"

The wild bird shook his head. "Nah, but you can ask V and he can ask me."

V shot his avian companion a disapproving look, clearly unamused considering the circumstances. This is far from the time to start being particular about who he obeyed and who he didn't. Well, it was technically true that he did obey V's commands and only V's, he had more than enough fruit will to be able to choose who he would and wouldn't listen to. And as long as his master's will allowed for it, he was perfectly able to carry out the task that had just been requested of him. "Griffon…"

Realizing that he had struck a nerve, the bird fluttered up into the air and flew off down the street. He knew that he was going to do what he was asked to do, but it seemed that he wasn't in the mood for jokes today. Considering the fact that he had just almost been eaten alive by a giant demonic panther dog bat devil thing, he was capable of understanding why he might not be exactly amused by his commentary. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know V. Lighten up, would you ya? I got it. No need to threaten to skin me alive and boil me. I'll go check it out. Hang tight, I'll be right back."

(-~-)

Fun fact: I used text to speech to write this chapter, and editing and writing it only took an hour and 20 minutes as a result! And it's almost a thousand words longer than normal! This is going to be a total game changer! And, I managed to do it on my phone! I have no idea why I never tried that until now, but it was amazing! Anyway, see you on Friday! If it's this quick, I might start spending like 4 hours a day every 2 weeks to knock out several chapters at once! That would be a great way to get ahead!

Let me know if I missed any glaring mistakes. I went over it with an editing program after, but voice-to-speech has this amazing way of messing up things like unusual names, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I missed something. I hoped you liked this chapter! See you all in the comments section, and again on Friday!

#Hiraeth #V #Sirrus #My Devil May Cry OC #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU OC's #My Post Devil May Cry V AU Fanfiction #My Post Devil May Cry 5 OC #DMC #DMCV #DMC5 #Devil May Cry #Fic

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fallenfurther · 4 years

Text

A blanket of snow

Whumptober prompt 21

Virgil is out on a rescue when he finds out that an avalanche has buried Alan and The Bear. What makes it harder is that the local rescue teams are prioritising other people. With International Rescue's resources spread thin, Virgil has to finish up where he is before he can rescue his brother, but will he get there in time?

Read on AO3 or FFN or below

It had to be Alan, Virgil thought as he climbed into Thunderbird Two. It had to be the brother with little wariness of snow. Sure, he was cautious when with them, because he fed off the atmosphere they created. The rest of them didn’t like snow, it brought back too many bad memories, even for Gordon. Alan had been so young when they had lost Mum. He hadn’t understood at the time, he had wondered why she had never come home, where she had gone. The toddler had searched the house of shaky legs, looking for his mum. He would cry when she couldn’t be found. It had been Scott who had picked him up and comforted him. Scott who had rounded them all up and brushed down the black suits the day of the funeral. It was Scott that Alan got his thrill seeking streak from. That need for the adrenaline rush. Maybe that’s why Scott was wary of his friendship with The Bear, Alan’s internet idol, and why he had closed his eyes when Alan had approached him about going on a winter break with The Bear. Alan just wasn’t wary of snow.

*****

Virgil ran down the corridor of the tower block. A major gas leak had blown up a block of flats but the city's firefighting department was already attending fires in two other locations and required International Rescue’s assistance. It seemed like the arsonists were out in the droves. John had suggested the record heatwave in the area might be contributing, but the cause didn’t matter when people were trapped. The exosuit’s electronic screech accompanied his every step as he moved towards the most affected area. Gordon was handling the evacuation of the other side of the building. According to John’s scans they only had sixteen people left to rescue. Virgil slowed as he reached blockage. The jaws gasped the beam easily and he started to shift it. It was at this point that John popped up by his wrist.

“Virgil, how clos..”

“I’m kinda busy, John. Can’t it wait?”

Virgil stepped back with a grunt. The beam was heavier than he expected. Relying on the mechanics of the exosuit, Virgil lowered the beam to the ground without damaging any more of the structure. A little debris rained down muting the blue of his uniform, but nothing large enough to cause any problems. Lifting his wrist up he met the gaze of the space monitor. There was concern hidden in those eyes.

“Yes, John.”

“How close are you two finishing up there? Another rescue has come in.”

“Half an hour and we should have everyone out. What is the other rescue?”

“Avalanche.”

Virgil’s stomach sank. They all hated avalanches. They all knew how deadly they could be, and time was their enemy. Hypothermia could set in quickly. It’ll be a shock going from the heat to the cold but they would do it. It was the subtle concern in John’s face that stopped Virgil from signing off.

“Where is it, John?”

John swallowed. Those green eyes, tinted blue in the hologram, met Virgil’s.

“Chamonix, France.”

“That’s…”

“Alan’s involved. The local mountain rescue is heading out, but there are dozens of people caught up in it. I have his and Brandon’s locations, but they are much further up the mountain than anyone else trapped.”

“We’ll finish up here as quickly as we can. You hear that Gordon?”

“FAB. Finish up quickly.”

Gordon’s voice lacked its usual joviality as it echoed through the comm line. There was nothing like a younger brother in trouble to bring out the serious side of Gordon. Alan was his partner in crime and he would never leave his buddy out in the cold to die. John disappeared and Virgil pushed on with renewed haste.

******

Forty nine minutes later and they were in Thunderbird Two and preparing for launch. The last family Virgil had rescued had been in a bad way and it had taken longer to retrieve them. He was thankful that the ambulance service was onsite and at hand to whisk away all the injured, saving them a job. Gordon plonked himself down in the seat beside him, but instead of sitting back as he normally would, his back was ramrod straight. His head turned to Virgil and they nodded in unison.

“Let’s go get Alan.”

The knot in Virgil’s stomach tightened. So much time had passed already. Even in a crash bubble Alan would be feeling the cold. Fingers flipped switches automatically. Their designated flight path to France flicked up before him as Thunderbird Two thrummed beneath him. There would always be rescues that hurt, that sank deep into the soul before they had even launched. Gordon’s rescue came to mind. The vertical launch felt slower than that subdued takeoff, but Virgil held onto the hope that the end result would be the same. That Thunderbird Two would fly Alan to a hospital where he could recover, just as it had Gordon. This was a personal mission.

“Thunderbird Two launched, course set and ETA thirty one minutes. John, what’s the current situation?”

The holograms of John and Grandma popped up between the two pilots, both with the same expression of concern on their face. There was no way Grandma wouldn’t be monitoring the health of Alan right now, having lost her husband to the avalanche. Her medical knowledge was a bonus. Despite all Virgil’s training, Grandma’s intuition and experience far exceeded his and International Rescue was lucky to have her on board.

“The local mountain rescue team has started to rescue those on the lower slope where most of the casualties are located. I informed them of the location of Brandon and Alan but they don’t have the resources to spare. They want to focus their limited resources where they can do the most good.”

“Understandable. So it’s up to us to rescue our pair.”

“Exactly. From the inventory list I can see you’ve got two heat cones in the module. Considering the time since the avalanche I suggest making the most of this and slip the job.”

“I agree with this plan. I’ve been monitoring their vitals through the crash bubbles sensors. Both have severely reduced core temperatures and will be hypothermic when you reach them. Both are currently responding to my verbal communications.”

Virgil noted the data tab that popped up on his tablet. Scanning the crafts sensors already confirmed that she was at top cruising speed. Manual override could make her go faster, but there was only so much stress her engines could take and Brains was still annoyed at his various underwater manoeuvers. Was it a risk he wanted to take? Five extra minutes could make all the difference.

“What about Scott?”

“Scott’s still stuck trying to safely rescue the stranded climbers on Everest. He’ll be straight there when he’s finished, but his ETA will be after yours. I’ll send him to help the locals unless the situation changes.”

“Right. I’ll prepare the medbay ready. Gordon, fancy taking her off autopilot?”

“FAB.”

Virgil pushed up his controls and started rummaging through the supplies for the hypothermia kits. It would be best to treat them in the module, where the air would be cooler, to avoid shocking their bodies. The vibrations beneath his feet increased as Gordon coaxed Thunderbird Two to go faster. Carrying the two packs, Virgil headed into the belly of the craft to the module. He set up a stretcher on each side with the required equipment secured down but in easy grasp. He threw a thermal blanket onto the back seat of each pod. He sighed before pressing the data tab on his tablet. Brandon and Alan’s stats came up side by side. Both were suffering, but Alan, despite the high tech thermal clothes he was wearing, was smaller and his stats were slightly worse than Brandon’s. They needed to get there fast. Heading back to the cockpit, he took over control, checked the readings and pushed Thunderbird Two that little bit harder.

Virgil had managed to cut seven minutes off the flight time to France. John had already marked a suitable landing site for him and as soon as Thunderbird Two was stationary both he and Gordon were out of their chairs and racing towards the module. Gordon was straight on the mechanism, lowering the module before configuring the pods. Virgil used the time to check Alan and Brandon's vitals. Both were critical but Alan's had deteriorated further than predicted. Virgil jumped up into the pod and yanked the top closed.

"I'll get Alan, you get Brandon."

The look Virgil gave Gordon quelled any arguments. Instead Gordon revved the pod's engine as they waited for the hatch to open completely. They raced out into the snow, heading first in the same direction before Gordon veered off to the left. Brandon was further down the slope. Virgil climbed, watching the little blob that indicated his brother get closer and closer. He had to slow to get the positioning right but the moment it was all lined up he whacked on the heat cones and let the pod do its job. The sensors knew when to stop and Virgil trusted them despite the shake in his hands as he gripped the controls. The pod stopped and slowly the red of Alan's bubble came into view. Virgil activated the arms and grabbed one of the holds on the bubble. Slowly he backed out of the hole and onto the surface again.

The pod clicked back together and rolled back, moving the bubble well away from the newly made hole. Hitting the brakes, Virgil threw the hatch open and jumped out. His fingers grabbed the zip and yanked. The bubble opened to reveal Alan. Relief tried to slip in but Virgil knew better. Alan's skin was pale, his lips had a blue tinge and he wasn't shivering. All bad signs. Reaching in, he unclipped Alan, grabbing him as he fell. The bubble deflated completely but it had done its job. Carrying Alan, Virgil carefully climbed up into the pod and lowered his brother into the back seat. Slipping a hand beneath Alan, he retrieved the thermal blanket, which he unfolded and wrapped around his brother. Alan's eyes flickered, catching his for a moment.

"Virg…"

Alan's voice was weak, but at least he was just about conscious.

"It's me, Alan. I'm here." Virgil rubbed his brother's arm. "I'll get you in Two and warmed up in no time."

Alan's eyes closed but a small blue smile came to his face. Virgil twisted in his seat and grabbed the controls, turning the pod in the direction of Thunderbird Two.

*****

Virgil spent the flight to the hospital dashing between his two casualties. Brandon was more alert but wasn't doing much better than Alan. He had needed help to strip off his many layers. Although the top layers were dry, thanks to the bubble, his bottom ones would contain sweat which wouldn't help his condition. Virgil wrapped the foil blanket around the now bare man, he then piled on a couple of blankets. Once sorted he went back to Alan, who he'd already given the same treatment.

Alan's skin was still a sickly pale and those blue eyes were closed. Virgil placed a hand on Alan's head. Alan's body temperature was still dangerously low, however it had stabilized. Virgil's finger stroked the cool skin of his brother’s forehead and wished there was more he could do. He knew Scott would be beside himself with worry, and that John would be preparing to come down from space when everyone had been rescued. The whole family would be around Alan soon. His brother's eyes flickered open, the blue irises shrinking against the light before finding Virgil.

"Hey Alan."

Alan's lips shuddered as he tried to say something. Worry and fear filled those young blue eyes. Moving his free hand to Alan's arm and giving it a squeeze, Virgil fixed his gaze with Alan.

"We've got you."

The worry slipped from Alan's eyes as they started to water. Virgil wanted to wrap his arms round Alan, to pull him close, but knew he shouldn't. Instead, he squeezed Alan's arm again, letting his brother know it was okay.

******

Virgil sat in one of the seats in Brandon and Alan's room. The hospital had put them together for security reasons, but Virgil had to admit it was good for the friends to be together. They were supporting each other through their recovery. Brandon was almost back to his excitable self and already planning his next extreme adventure, much to the displeasure of Scott. Scott had coped surprisingly well, considering, though Brandon seemed intent on testing Scott's nerves. The Commander of International Rescue could only take The Bear in small doses. Virgil had a feeling he was going to have to encourage Scott to have lunch with him soon. Alan was cheerful again, though still feeling the effects of hypothermia, even if he wasn't saying it out loud. A few more days and these two would be discharged. Grandma had signed Alan off International Rescue duty for a week post discharge, subject to extension if required. Virgil was sure Alan was looking forward to the warmth of their island and the comfort of home. With John scheduled for downtime at the same time, Virgil couldn't wait to have the whole family back under one roof.

#whumptober2020 #no.21 #hypothermia #thunderbirds are go #fic #Virgil Tracy #alan tracy #Gordon Tracy #the bear #brandon berrenger #snowboarding #avalanche #brother in trouble

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cienie-isengardu · 3 years

Text

The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro - Part 5: Zou, The Kindred Spirits (Reunion)

<<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (A)>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (B)>> <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>> <<Part V: Zou, The Kindred Spirits (Traveling Together)__(Searching for Nakama)__ (Reunion)__ (Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance)__(The Last Moments before War)>>

In the absence of Law, Straw Hats rarely mentioned their ally. Zoro did so once (chapter 814), when the matter of Sanji leaving the crew for his marriage with the 35th daughter of Big Mom was discussed. Pirate Hunter in serious tone talked about their current situation and what was awaiting them in nearest future:

“Just think about it!! We’re currently on a course that can’t be changed. Remember what Caesar said about his business. Doflamingo’s biggest trading partner for SMILE was Kaido. When we destroyed the research lab on Punk Hazard, that got Doflamingo mad. And now that we’ve destroyed the factory on Dressrosa, the next guy down the line to snap on us is Kaido of the Four Emperors!! Just like Jack, the guy who wrecked this place he’s not some far-off menace anymore… it’s only a matter of time before he comes down on us!! The reason we’re aligned with Traffy is for the fight ahead. And Kaido’s also got his sights on Kinemon’s group for reasons we don’t understand yet. We’re set up for an imminent confrontation with Kaido!!!

Zoro was fully aware about the seriousness of the situation and did not take lightly the matter of confrontation with angered Kaido. In contrast to Luffy whose idea of alliance is another name for friendship, he understood the alliance was done for pragmatic reasons.

And then, Zoro vented his frustration at Sanji and how him leaving the crew complicated everything and even argued with Nami. Luffy decided to go after the missing crewmember, against Zoro’s objection. Once Luffy and Nami met with Pekom to learn more about Sanji’s past, they were told that Black Leg’s marriage was a political deal between Big Mom and Vinsmoke Family (Germa 66) and had nothing to do with Straw Hats… except Sanji becoming Big Mom’s underling. That of course didn’t sit well with Luffy who was determined to bring Sanji back no matter what. As it turned out, Zoro was sitting outside the building and listened to all of it.

Of course, asked by Luffy, Zoro denied being worried and again said to let Sanji go. Zoro’s words sounded cruel and harsh, but in the face of upcoming fight with Kaido, could stream from pragmatism. He wasn’t happy about the situation.

Then, Luffy and Zoro for the first time met Nekomamushi who jumped on them with “Garchu of Gratitude”, literally crashing both with his big body.

And so, when Law finally came back, chaos greeted him:

Luffy was laughing, Zoro was ready to cut in pieces the local King of the Night (under whose care Law’s crew was the whole time), while the said ruler was bleeding to death. Law wasn’t around Straw Hats for like two days and most likely the sight was pretty confusing… or not, since Straw Hats have a knack for making ruckus.

Frankly, at this point in the story Law already had a chance to see irritated Zoro, but not to the point of picking a fight with a heavily injured person.

Luffy noticed Trafalgar and his crewmates. Turned out, Law came with Heart Pirates to give an introduction...

...only to ignore them all in favor of discussing with Luffy some matters.

Despite Law’s dark reputation, the Heart Pirates as a group seemed to be the complete opposite of their stoic, emotionless captain. At the same time, the lack of “emotional involvement” does remind Zoro to some degree, whose similar lack of openness and dwelling on sentiments was also met with crew’s critique and insulting/booing The best seen after Vivi’s departure; all crew members called him out on his lack of heart.

Law finally was informed about the situation with missing Sanji.

↪ The same as Zoro, Law was unhappy (frustrated?) by the turn of events.

↪ Zoro and Law again were in close range of each other.

Law explained to Luffy that Zou was supposed to be safe place to lay down for a while, but now Kaido knew about it and that put everyone in danger. The waiting for his return with Sanji was not an option.

This moment is similar to the one from Dressrosa, when Law confronted Luffy about their plan. Then, it was Straw Hat who worried about the people of the country if he did not fight Doflamingo. Now it was Law who worried about Minks (maybe because of Bepo?). Zoro, like last time, did not take part in the captain talk.

Law’s worry about Minks delighted the natives; the alliance already saved them and even now pirates worried about their well-being. What gave another chance for a great party,

There was no sight of Law, even though his crew was having fun alongside Straw Hats. Zoro found a drinking buddy in wolf(?) Mink. It seems like Law is not fond of partying and maybe drinking too. This time Roronoa and Heart Pirates didn’t try to force him into anything.

Chapter 816 & 817 brought to light the connection between Wano and Zou and who Momonosuke truly was. The two Mink leaders took samurais, Straw Hats and Law (who wasn’t a witness to the revelation about the Kozuki clan yet was invited) to meet the ninja, Raizo (chapter 817).

Law and Zoro, again, were in close range of each other, both traveling at the end of the group. They most likely didn’t talk to each other, or at least the manga (and anime episode) did not provide any indication of that… unless the “chatter” sound effect above Franky & Nami included them too. Then again, Zoro and Law are the quiet type of people who don’t talk just for talking sake.

In a secret place, the group finally met Raizo. Luffy, Usopp and Chopper were the most excited about meeting a true ninja and wanted to see his ninja techniques. Even Zoro and Law added their requests to the long list of their demands.

↪ The additional “murmur” added to Law’s bubble speech makes it looks like Trafalgar said his request more under his breath than aloud like Luffy, Chopper and Usopp (which may be a reason why he looked quite shocked / surprised once Raizo showed clone jutsu). Manga did not provide where Law and Zoro stood then, but based on this chapter episode 769 clearly kept those two close to each other. What could mean Zoro heard Law’s murmured demand.

↪ Zoro once again proved to be a “dark” character with his dangerous request for ninja. In a way this is ironic, because it’s Law who has the epithet of Surgeon of Death - and asked about clone jutsu - while it’s Zoro who had macabre/deadly interests.

↪ Luffy, Chopper and Usopp may be the noisy fans but they were at least openly enthusiastic while Law and Zoro hardly showed any appreciation. Their faces shown in the bubbles speech contrast a lot with the happy smiles of Luffy and Usopp.

↪ Anime added a little moment when both, in a serious yet emotionless (threatening?) tone told the ninja to hurry up with showing them all his skills. That only added to the contrast between the happy trio and these two.

Raizo got angry at such treatment and explained to them that ninjas operate in darkness and do not show their skills just like that. Yet upon seeing depressed Luffy, Usopp and Chopper (in anime, Franky, Law and Zoro were visibly disappointed by that too), the man presented various techniques - including the one asked by Law and throwing shurikens. Anime expanded this scene and showed openly smiling Law and Zoro at Raizo’s performance.

↪ Once again, close to each other while keeping some distance from Luffy, Usopp and Chopper.

Whilst Robin was working to read the red poneglyph, the group separated for awhile: the samurais, Luffy, Chopper and Usopp went outside, to look at the city while the Mink Leaders, Nami, Brook, Franky, Zoro and Law waited inside the secret place. Despite their previously shown interest in ninja, Zoro and Law stayed with the more mature (adult) part of the group. Actually, Law’s choice to stay there is understable. The red stone could provide useful knowledge - albeit, did Law have any idea about the poneglyphs or the secret history is unsure. By staying, he ensured his chance to learn anything interesting in case Robin or Mink leaders decided to share something new. Zoro could have gone with the other group but for whatever reason, he stayed too.

Next part: Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance

#one piece #The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #my analyze #zou arc #an introverted law hanging out with fellow introvert zoro with so many noisy extroverted people around #straw hats pirates #zoro & law #law & zoro

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idlnmclean · 4 years

Text

Abolish Colonial Law Enforcement

The Police are Not Required to Protect You

“To Protect and to Serve[1]” – the ubiquitous creed emblazoned across millions of police cars throughout Los Angeles and indeed the United States. This motto is consistent with the common belief that police officers as well as other law enforcement officers are here to protect us. After all, we are all taught to dial 9-1-1 when we need help. Subject to narrow exceptions[2], the United States Constitution does not require law enforcement officers to protect you from other people, according to the U.S. Supreme Court. This notion contradicts our engrained perceptions, but it’s still the law today.

In the 1989 landmark case of DeShaney v. Winnebago County Department of Social Services, the U.S. Supreme Court held that the failure by government workers to protect someone (even 4-year-old Joshua DeShaney) from physical violence or harm from another person (his father) did not breach any substantive constitutional duty.[3] In this case, Joshua’s mother sued the Winnebago County Department of Social Services, alleging it deprived Joshua of his “liberty interest in bodily integrity, in violation of his rights under the substantive component of the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, by failing to intervene to protect him against his father’s violence.”[4] While the Department took various steps to protect Joshua after receiving numerous complaints of the abuse, the Department took no actions to remove Joshua from his father’s custody.[5] Joshua became comatose and extremely retarded due to traumatic head injuries inflicted by his father who physically beat him over a long period of time.[6]

Nevertheless, the Court found that the government had no affirmative duty to protect any person, even a child, from harm by another person. “Nothing in the language of the Due Process Clause itself requires the State to protect the life, liberty, and property of its citizens against invasion by private actors,” stated Chief Justice Rehnquist for the majority, “even where such aid may be necessary to secure life, liberty, or property interests of which the government itself may not deprive the individual” without “due process of the law.”[7]

The DeShaney decision has been cited by many courts across the nation and reaffirmed by the U.S. Supreme Court. Namely—on June 27, 2005, in Castle Rock v. Gonzales, the U.S. Supreme Court again ruled that the police did not have a constitutional duty to protect a person from harm.[8] The decision overturned a federal appeals court ruling which permitted a lawsuit against the town of Castle Rock for the police’s failure to respond after Jessica Gonzales tried to get the police to arrest her estranged husband Simon Gonzales for kidnapping their three daughters (ages 7, 8, and 10) while they were playing outside, in violation of a court-issued protective order.[9] After Simon called to tell Jessica where they were at (in Denver at an amusement park), for hours she pleaded for the police to arrest Simon.[10] But, the police failed to act before Simon showed up at the police department and started shooting inside, and with the bodies of the 3 children in the trunk of his car.[11]

In her suit against the town, Jessica argued that the protective order stating “you shall arrest” or issue a warrant for arrest of a violator and that it gave her a “property interest” within the meaning of the 14th Amendment’s Due Process guarantees, which prohibits the deprivation of property without due process.[12] By framing their case as one of procedural Due Process and not of substance, Jessica and her lawyers had hoped to get around the 1989 DeShaney precedent. To no avail, the U.S. Supreme Court saw little difference between this case and the DeShaney case.[13] Justice Antonin Scalia, writing for the majority, stated that Ms. Gonzales did not have a “property interest” in enforcing the restraining order and that “such a right would not, of course, resemble any traditional conception of property.”[14] [15] The Court went on to reaffirm the DeShaney ruling that there is no affirmative right to aid by the government or the police found in the U.S. Constitution, and thus no legal recourse could be brought thereunder.[16] The “no duty to protect” rule remains unwavering and the law today.

Needless to say, the stories of Joshua DeShaney and Jessica Gonzales’ three daughters (and countless similar stories) are saddening, and the rulings seem to be at odds with our common and fundamental understanding that the police are here to ensure our safety and provide protection. One need only look to the door of a Los Angeles police cruiser to find those reassuring words. However, those words are misleading in light of these Supreme Court rulings.

Though alarming, we simply have no affirmative right to police aid, even when a person, including a helpless child, faces imminent danger. We are all responsible for our own personal safety, whether we like it or not.

— By Keobopha Keopong, Esq., Barnes Law

https://www.barneslawllp.com/blog/police-not-required-protect

Cops are statistically more likely to murder you, rape you, sexually assault you, steal from you, break your things, damage your property, destroy your communities, imprison you, traffick you, or torture you than just about any other criminal class.

People upon hearing “abolish police” often counter about who will deal with domestic abuse calls or rape or murders or some other heinous crime? 40% of cops are reported domestic abusers, and we can infer that the number is significantly higher than what is reported. Most human trafficking in the US is through prisons or through industries adjacent to law enforcement, prisons, or their organized criminal networks. A significant chunk of the serial rapists turn out to be cops, and they operate for decades because they are protected by other cops who basically routinely engage in obstruction of justice for their cop buddies and for their friends and families.

Almost no rapes that are reported are properly investigated from report to conviction.

You are more likely to die of a cop attacking you than of any terrorist attack including mass shootings by white supremacists. Cops are more likely to be white supremacists than the average person.

Cops are not required to know or even necessarily obey the law. The legal expectation is that you will somehow drag them before a court with a qualified lawyer, and you will argue the finer points of a legal case before a judge. Cops are defaulted to be assumed to be following the law until and unless someone can adequately document it to the satisfaction of the court system.

Cops generally have some form of qualified immunity.

Qualified immunity is a legal doctrine in United States federal law that shields government officials from being sued for discretionary actions performed within their official capacity, unless their actions violated "clearly established" federal law or constitutional rights.[1] It is intended to protect officials who "make reasonable but mistaken judgments about open legal questions",[2] extending to "all [officials] but the plainly incompetent or those who knowingly violate the law".[3] Qualified immunity applies only to government officials, and does not protect the government itself from suits arising from officials’ actions.[4]

The U.S. Supreme Court first introduced the qualified immunity doctrine in 1967, originally with the rationale of protecting law enforcement officials from frivolous lawsuits and financial liability in cases where they acted in good faith in unclear legal situations.[5][6] Starting around 2005, courts increasingly applied the doctrine to cases involving the use of excessive or deadly force by police, leading to widespread criticism that it, in the words of a 2020 Reuters report, "has become a nearly failsafe tool to let police brutality go unpunished and deny victims their constitutional rights".[6]

The courts generally favor the police and range from grossly corrupt to grossly incompetent.

youtube

#abuse #police riot #2020

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

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Egotober Day 6: Every Frame a Story

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Prompt: Frame

Summary: It’s already been a rough year for Logan, feeling like his logic is failing him and that he needs to prove himself even more. But thankfully there are people here to help.

Warnings: none

Logan was in the communication room of the heroes’ base. He had been a little overeager to get back on duty, and having Virgil and Patton coming in and out helped calm his nerves.

Something he was desperate to prove wasn’t a problem, if only to prove it to himself. But now that he was back, he was starting to realize that it wasn’t the logical thing to do.

And that was the problem. Logan knew he was losing the one important thing he’d been desperate to hold onto with metaphorical tooth and nail: logic.

It’s what he was, it was what he symbolized. Logic, order, rationale. And if he didn’t have that, what was he?

Logan didn’t know and he desperately never wanted to find out. He didn’t understand emotions, he could barely decipher them in others, and to find out that he had some of his own was troubling.

It was a slow day, not much trouble except for petty crime, so Logan got to relax a bit. He was looking at some of the framed pictures that lined the walls. Almost all of them were of them in superhero-themed uniforms, except for one. It was an older photo of Thomas and his friends at some themed Halloween party, but instead of it being Roman or Patton, it was Thomas. Thomas, whole and undivided into his Sides, with many of his friends.

Getting up, Logan gently took the picture off the wall and brought it back to the chair.

A knock came at the door as it was automatically sliding open, Logan turned back to see it was Joan, “Hey big guy, what’s up?”

With a frustrated sigh, Logan admitted, “I was perhaps a little preemptive in returning to the base.”

“You need me to walk you back home, buddy?” Joan asked, concern in their voice.

“No, I should be fine,” Logan told them, “but if the situation worse I will take you or the others up on that offer.”

“Looking at the pictures?” Joan asked.

“Just reflecting on the past,” Logan admitted. “I worry that the more emotions I feel the less logical I become, and if that happens Thomas would never be able to return.”

Joan looked like they were carefully thinking about something, “You know that Thomas was an emotional person right? He thought emotions first.”

“Roman and Patton are certainly proof of that,” Logan agreed.

“You’ve all changed a lot,” Joan reminded. “You used to do nothing but study, Patton used to only chase dogs around the park, Virgil thought he was a bad guy. You’ve all changed, so I think that when you all manage to get Thomas back he’ll just be another fusion. Besides we’d all miss you guys.”

“Hell, most of the other heroes here never even met Thomas,” Joan reminded.

“Yes, that is very regretful,” Logan commented.

“Nothing we can do about that, I know that, and you know that,” Joan told him. “Even if you could instantly bring him back and nothing would change, can you imagine Roman and Remus having to share a space in the same mind?”

“If it was done before it can be done again, surely,” Logan determined, “but you’re right that will make it exceptionally difficult.”

“And what’s that thing you always tell Virgil and Patton when they’re having a tough time?” Joan insisted.

Logan let out a small smile. “Let go of what you can’t control, focus on something you can.”

“Thomas is gonna be okay,” Joan told him. “We’re not gonna let that fucking cannibal get to you again.”

“Thank you,” Logan commented, “I’m going to enjoy seeing him kept behind bars.”

“We all will,” Joan agreed, then they stood up. “Hey, let’s let Ollie take over and get you some fresh air, you probably need it.”

“My shift isn’t over yet,” Logan reminded firmly.

“You need some fresh air and we both know it, come on,” Joan told him. “The others will be fine for a couple minutes, I’ll let yellow submarine know on the way out.”

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname for a deadly, super smart AI, but Oliver had certainly been called worse.

The two wound up waiting for Oliver, who was more than happy to come in early. Bing was out doing something and Oliver wasn’t busy with a project so he’d been looking for something to do.

Joan and Logan walked out, allowing Logan to collect his thoughts again.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Egotober2020 #Thomas Sanders #Joan Stokes #Logan Sanders #Logan needs a hug #and a therapist

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cruzrogue · 5 years

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Roomies PARTII

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: 22 “We could have a chance.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity #Flommy

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags: There might be adult language

Summary: Roommates enjoying a nice mid-morning conversation after a hectic Finals Week. Tommy and Felicity land up talking about Oliver.

Notes: This is a three-part with its own prompt story Part I Felicity/Tommy conversation. (The are past lovers/ but current best-buds)

Part I Felicity/Tommy friendship Prompt 21- “Change is annoyingly difficult.”

Part II Oliver enters the scene (Future tense Oliver/Felicity relationship) Prompt 22-“We could have a chance.

”Part III Fallout of the Gambit situation… Prompt 23-“You can’t give more than yourself.”

Part 2 of the dynamic that is Tommy w/Oliver and Felicity.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

Roomies PARTII on A03

Felicity is dashing around her bathroom trying to look presentable. Darn Thomas Merlyn for the jerk called her out. She hates that he knows how she feels for his stupid friend. She really doesn’t want to like Oliver Queen as much as she does. She really doesn’t. The problem is that her head and heart aren’t aligned right when it comes to this particular guy.

She doesn’t want to be one of those girls that gushes over a guy like him. He’s got the most beautiful baby blues she has ever seen. She remembers having to shake herself out after seeing them and being slightly embarrassed at how she caught him observing her. At least she didn’t go overboard with a babble to make her run for the hills. Tommy just introduced them for a slight brief moment. This is when their relationship wasn’t as defined as it is now. So much gray area to work with.

Looking at the mirror as she finishes applying her eye makeup. It’s her normal smoky look. If Tommy is being truthful and Oliver actually does like her, she wants him to like her for who she really is. Hearing the doorbell, she peeks outside the bathroom to make sure Tommy at least closed her bedroom door.

Gosh she feels the butterflies in her stomach like every other time this wretched guy is near. How does he do it? Walk around and make girls hearts flutter? Sighing out loud she really dislikes that she is being like this but she can’t deny this is the boy of her dreams… literally her dreams.

She gets goosebumps thinking of the things she would love to do with him. Wondering if he is the kind of role playing guy as she’ll love to dominate but in the same sense of the word be his submissive lover. Her mind is now going overboard and she hasn’t even seen him yet. Her body flushed. Maybe thinking of bedroom antics with him isn’t the best idea because her panties won’t survive this encounter.

Glad that all these visits Oliver has had to Boston he’d stay at a hotel there be no way she could live with him in this residence with her. She’s hid in her room all the time. Taking a last look at herself in the wall mirror she readies herself. Maybe things won’t be so awkward and they’ll all survive unscathed in this lunch thing they are about to have.

Tommy is chuckling as he hears a curse come from her lips. He gets up from his comfy spot on her bed. For a girl who loves the Goth look it is surprising that she has a teal bedcover and some floral designed pillows on her bed. Mildly surprised there have never been any metal or hard rock band posters on these walls. Instead she has Buddha and other Zen like stuff sprawled out in her room. If she didn’t carry her heart on her sleeve he’d have no idea that she is so sweet and nurturing. The saying about don’t judge a book by its cover, she is falls into that proverb easily. The girl excludes leave me alone but is a soft sweet bunny who gives really nice hugs.

He won’t even mention how feisty she is in bed because that is of the past. Giving that up has been hard but it’s for the best especially if he’s trying to fix his two best friends like some sort of cupid. Finding out by Oliver in a roundabout way by asking by him questions that always pertain to Felicity. He started catching on to that side of the equation and then finally seeing how Felicity shows her telltale signs of arousal. She’d deny it if he pointed those facts out. Doesn’t she know he’s slept with her and gotten to know her well. She’s really remarkable.

As for being the guy to bring these two lug heads together he wouldn’t try if he knew Oliver was going to just use Felicity that wouldn’t fly with him. As for Felicity well she can be seen as heartless that is just because she shots for the truth and sometimes its seen as cold and calculated but the girl is so pure in spirit she’d never wrong people like that. Knowing there is a true spark between them he’ll play this match-maker game. Sometimes true love needs a push.

As predicted the doorbell rings and he goes to open it and allow Oliver to check out his new residency. Oliver is a proactive student so he’ll be taking some summer classes. Tommy knows his best bud is wondering what Felicity thinks of him moving in. Being he hasn’t told her yet he wants to spring this surprise on her. Catch her real reaction and not the cool thought out response she’d give. Those two will be here alone together. He’ll be back in Starling because his dad wants to show him the rope to a certain division.

“What smells so good?”

“Like you don’t know.” Oliver laughs as he walks in with the takeout.

“You made sure there is no nuts in any of this?”

“Yep, told them in a monotone fashion about a deadly reaction to tree nuts. Even made sure to look through.”

“Wow! I didn’t think you’d be that careful.”

“Tommy? You said she’s deadly allergic. She is, right?”

“Yes. Though the extra thoughtfulness into it was a sweet gesture.” Moving to the dining room.

“Well it be a disaster if I try to kill one of my roommates before I even move in.” Oliver places the two bags down and begins to ruffle through taking the containers out.

“Especially if you have the hots for the girl.”

Oliver sways his head. “Can it. I don’t want to spook her. I don’t think she likes me anyways.”

“Dude, I said she has those doe eyes for you.”

“Yea, yea. Whatever. It doesn’t mean she likes me in that way.”

“Guess you’ll find out.” That only makes Oliver blow out some air. “She’s getting cleaned up for lunch. She took out some cutesy lounge pants but I doubt she’ll wear that.”

“Have you been teasing her?”

“You bet your ass I have. Just like I’ve been getting you all riled up. There is some love in the air.”

“We don’t really know each other.”

“I know you want to know her. I also know you’ve held off your…” Tommy uses his index fingers as he says, “Get into your panties charm” Tommy dropping his hands, “In those moments she’s around so I’m telling you there is potential here.”

“Okay, I suppose we are about to find out!”

Both guys turn to face where the sound of Felicity’s bedroom door is opening. Tommy makes the first move as he whistles. Felicity wants to tell him to knock it off but with Oliver here she doesn’t want to sound like a prude. Tommy has a smirk as he bumps his best friend’s arm and tells Oliver to collect his jaw from the floor loud enough for Felicity to hear.

“Well true introductions are in order.” Tommy walks to Felicity who is at a standstill just before entering the dining room. “Felicity? We don’t bite.” A sly smile shows on his face because the arched eyebrow of hers tells of a different story. “You know what I really mean. Come on.” He takes her hand and begins to lightly pull her towards Oliver.

Tommy is perplexed by both of their behaviors; neither have ever shown this reluctant side. His Oliver would have already introduced himself and his girl Felicity would have had added some snarky intro to the mix. Yet, neither really are doing anything but bashfully looking at each other. These two are really filling in for all the stereotypes he never thought these two would exhibit. Guess it be more work for him but payback could be a toast he’d give at their wedding. He inwardly shrugs that thought is way off kilter now that these two haven’t said a word to one another.

“Guys, introductions start with hi, hello, or some other lame wordings but this psyche thing you two have going on is weird so come on. Talk!”

Oliver shakes his head at Tommy’s words he’s just been in awe and it’s not that he doesn’t know what to do he’s just overanalyzing everything and maybe that is the problem so he takes a breath and finally talks. “Hi, I’m…”

“You’re Oliver Queen, and I’m…”

“Felicity Smoak, Tommy’s roomie.” She just nods to his words.

“Damn, you two are killing it.” Tommy rolls his eyes. These two are beyond pitiful even though the way these two are looking at each other it does look like their having a wordless conversation.

“I brought a favorite dish Tommy says you like.” She finally moves up to where Oliver grabs her food container as proof. “I made sure there is no allergenic ingredients in there.”

“Thank you.” Her hands shoot out to take it and Tommy just watches the scene as he grabs his food and just sits down to witness what can be a disaster in the making or a match made in heaven. Right now he leaning at 60% in favor of future nuptials.

“You’re welcome.” The smile he gives her is a smile Tommy has never seen. Like where did that smile come from? He’s known Oliver which kind of feels like forever and that boy has different sly smiles, endearing ones, and plain goofy ones but now he has a certain one just for Felicity Smoak. Shit, Felicity is going to own his best buddy’s ass. No doubt in his mind he’ll be whipped by the end of summer… what is he saying? The ‘there is no woman out there for me Queen’ will be whipped by the end of this lunch date. Tommy is witnessing the end of an era where Oliver will even notice another girl. Okay, maybe he is being dramatic about this but in his bones he just thought Felicity would push him to be better. Now he gets the feeling his best buddy is going to bend over backwards to change. Oh the boy is doomed being he’s is moving in where the object of his affection will be staring at him through thick and thin times.

Felicity sits by Tommy’s side where she feels comfortable as Oliver just sits directly opposite the two. It’s quiet at first as they take in their meals. Tommy finally having enough, starts talking about hobbies.

“Felicity, here as a thing for painting little acrylic statues she buys with fingernail polish. The girl has loads of polish in her room.”

Felicity doesn’t know if her first instinct to stab Tommy with her fork would be bad table manners as she’s chewing the inside of her cheek while envisioning his doom.

“You like to paint? I wish I could draw but I butcher it in ways I never thought possible.”

“Really? Drawing relaxes me. It’s my go to when I just don’t feel like reading.”

“Oh the girl loves to read. Just this morning she was…”

“Tommy! There is no need to list all the things you know about me.” She gives him a hard stare.

“Pfft.” Tommy says back. He knows her agitated looks but he’s not backing down and keeps talking about the book she is into. Describing the woman who is passionate about her hunk of a man. It leads to him getting kicked under the table. “Ouch!” He gives her a what the hell look.

Oliver is taking in the two before him. They are very comfortable in each other’s presence. Knowing of their shared romantic past is a little tricky. How easily Tommy can wave off her annoyance and the daggers she can give him but still holding a nicety that comes from creating deep emotional bonds.

He can’t say he isn’t envious. When his best friend mentioned her as a possible catch for him. He thought that his best friend was just being absurd. They aren’t ones to share past girlfriends. Though since every time afterward he would mention this Felicity girl he only met once and for a brief moment. His friend always saying something nice. It was strange at first but then he just enjoyed the Smoak bits he’d get and man his buddy had so many pics and videos on his phone. From a distance he got to see some quirky moments of hers and he bets she doesn’t even know of any of this.

He’s already intrigued by her mannerisms. She’s got amazing eyes that held him in a deadbolt stance as he just enjoyed looking into them. It didn’t hurt that she has such a lovely face. Her eyes pop even more with the smoky eye makeup. He can’t forget how perfect her lips are with the deep rich color she chooses to emphasize those kissable lips.

Living here will be interesting in the least. He’ll see the true dynamic of his best friend and the girl Tommy is trying to hook him up with. With his best friend’s stipulation that he doesn’t date anyone while in this transition. He agreed. If it doesn’t work out he’ll go back to socializing and if it does work out well than maybe Tommy will get to be the best man. Oliver just lightly sighs at all the possibilities. Which gets Felicity’s attention as her piercing eyes search his and he thinks she finds what she’s looking for before she turns back to her food. He then notices a second pair of eyes observing him. Oliver just nods before digging back into his own food. It’s quiet for a long stretch of time. Other than pleasantries of handing napkins or little food etiquette. Each one in their own thoughts periodically looking at each other but letting the comfortable silence consume them.

“Either of you have plans for later?” Oliver asks looking between the other two people at the table. “I have a late flight but otherwise I’m in Boston for the day and my hotel room is quite boring.”

“Thought we would hang near Yawkey Way.” Tommy supplied. “The stadium is renting out to this group that does individual fitness games. It quite cool. Felicity got me into it last year.”

“Thanks Tommy, I only heard about it and then told you about it.”

“Yep, went with few of the guys I know and watched. It’s an all-out fitness regime more than I can handle but I enjoyed being a spectator.”

“Okay that sounds cool. I don’t know a lot about the Red Sox either maybe we can check out some merchandise especially if I’ll be living here soon.”

That gets Felicity’s ears to perk up. “You mean living in Boston? Or here, here?”

Tommy mums his lips for a second before he answers for Oliver, “Oliver is coming to live with us. Starting this summer.”

“Oh!”

“I probably should have told you but anyways surprise!”

Felicity just bobbles her head. A part of her wants to scream but that would be overkill. She just looks at her friend and wonders what she can do to make him sleep uncomfortable tonight. Maybe go hunting for some slimy wiggling things to put between his bedsheets.

Tommy can feel the displeasure radiate from her. Not because Oliver is moving in but how the conversation of Oliver coming to live here has come about, “Let me tell you a warning Oliver… When she gives you this look you know she is super annoyed.”

“No offense Oliver but I just can’t believe Tommy here kept this information from me.”

“Tommy has a way with words or sometimes a lack of it. Known him all my life. He loves to surprise people.”

“Oh, goodie. I would hate to think he would do this just with me.” Her eyes bare into Tommy’s and he finally shrugs.

“This would be one of those times if we were in a relationship I wouldn’t be getting lucky latter huh?” She gives him a dirty look. “Okay, defiantly would get a happy ending later.”

Oliver laughs at the two. “I am going to enjoy living here.”

Tommy squirms as Felicity’s finger is poking at his side. He answers his buddy, “Yea, you’d defiantly will even when this one is angry at you.”

Felicity turns to Oliver and all the shyness she’s held onto this point evaporates as she states the house rules, “No bimbos, no narcotics, and the toilet seat in the shared bathroom better always be down!”

Oliver turns to Tommy for a story and Tommy just shakes his head. “Long story!”

That is how these three come to live with one another.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

>>>>>>>>>Time Jump Over a YEAR<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

Papers flying in the air as Felicity pushes whatever she can as she looking for a flash drive, she had on this desk just this morning. She has had a lot on her plate as she has taken a co-op to be a mentor to what was upcoming freshmen. The summer was hectic for sure. They weren’t able to get away after the ceremony where they declared their love to each. Now that summer is almost coming to an end Felicity will be back in full-mode student and Oliver will be working at a Queen Consolidated branch in the city.

“Oliver, have you seen my red flash drive?”

“No honey. I haven’t.” He comes out of their shared bathroom still brushing his teeth.

“I swore I left it here before bed last night.” She can see a spark of delight cross Oliver’s face. He loves this whole new setup. He’s now a graduate and still living in Boston to be near Felicity. She still has a few more semesters till she’s completely done.

From the moment of that lunch scenario that led him to moving in. They hit it off. Thomas Merlyn knew them to well it seems. Their friend may now be back living in Starling, they remain here together.

“Hmm… well weren’t you also looking at our wedding photos taken in Vegas?”

Felicity places her hand on her head in an argh fashion wondering why she forgot. She was looking for one where both her mother and mother-in-law were by her side. The marriage happened on a whim and well the Queens and anyone else who was relevant made it to their impromptu wedding. She just nods even though Oliver can’t see her as he is back in the washroom rinsing his mouth.

“I promised your mom I’d find a picture to give her for one of her society pages.”

He walks back out again and this time makes a beeline to her. “Okay, though you need to relax babe.”

“Oliver?” He gotten to know her way to well and even so he is always learning something new about her. He already tipping her chin up as he’s looking down with fascination. He is married to this intelligent beauty.

“You are about to tell me that you slept enough, have an exercise routine, and all the other things to placid me on worrying.”

She really doesn’t like him worrying, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you get finished dressing up and I’ll look for this flash drive.”

“Okay, thanks.” He leaves her to go to where she was hunting through a bunch of photos that got taken. Neither expected to have that many pictures. Looking around the small box he sees nothing until he moves the comfy pillow she used as a backrest. The drive partially stuffed into the side cushion. Taking it, he is relieved that she won’t go in a freak mode tearing the place apart for a small thumb sized tech gear. He also notices the picture she will send his mom and picks it up. He is overjoyed that these three women show elated smiles. He was worried a bit when he called his parents and told them he was getting married that upcoming weekend while visiting Felicity’s mother. No one said it outright but everyone thinking there is a bun in the oven. Unfortunately for all their assumptions they didn’t get married for that reason because for one; neither him or Felicity have any clue if that is on the table. He knows they’ve been careful so he doubts it very much.

As Felicity comes out of their bedroom she jumps in a certain joyous fashion as she takes the drive from his hand. He can see the stress melt off her. He supposes this is the best time to talk to her about something. He would like to go with his dad on the Gambit. Though he wouldn’t fathom going without her by his side. As newlyweds his mere thoughts are on her and being without her for two weeks would never suffice.

“Felicity?” She still in cloud nine and just nods waiting for him to continue. “There is a three-week time span that’s coming up and I was hoping you and I could get away.”

“Away?”

“Think of it like the honeymoon we never got.”

“Oliver, school will start not too soon after I’m…”

“Honey!” He takes both her hands onto his. “We could have a chance.” He gives her his best puppy eyes. “A real chance to have a nice getaway. The Gambit taking off to China.”

“It would be weird to be lovey dovely with your dad on board.”

“Felicity, we’ve been married for a short time I can’t leave you for two weeks. I guess I’ll just have to tell my dad it was a nice offer…”

“You’re really adding this guilt trip on me?”

“Only if it’s working?”

“Ah! Fine. I’ll need to bring some equipment with me but I don’t want you to miss out on spending quality dad-son time.”

“You are the best.”

“That is only because I love you but once we get to solid land, we are taking a plane back. Not missing one class.”

“Okay, okay.” He happily kisses her. “The plane situation sounds great. I love you.”

“Fine, you can tell your dad we’ll embark on the Gambit with him for this trip.”

To be continued on next prompt…

tag: laurabelle2930

#fictober19 #olicity #flommy #felicity smoak #oliver queen #tommy merlyn

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