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bratkook · 3 years

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one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit.

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face.

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured.

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs.

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face.

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place.

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea.

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare.

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain.

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder.

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this.

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot.

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on.

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you.

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him.

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.”

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry.

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression.

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more.

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind.

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face.

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon.

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city.

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him.

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture.

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again.

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work.

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation.

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again.

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

#namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts fics #new #teaser

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mm2305 · 3 years

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All That Matters

Characters/pairings : Ethan Ramsey & Olivia Valentine

Words/Genre : 2.8 K / Angst , Romance

Warnings : mentions of death,injuries

Summary : Olivia gets seriously injured. How does Ethan react?

A/N : Hello again! This fic was written per @groovypalacehorselover ‘s request. This is the first time I’m attempting to write angst , so I hope this comes out good enough. A big THANK YOU to @romewritingshop for her help in editing this. Moodboard inspired by @potionsprefect 's ones.

Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

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Ethan was frantically rushing through the hospital corridors. Dread and anxiety flooded his mind that he could barely breathe. There was no way he would allow it to stall him. Pushing himself to go as fast as he could to get to the farthest wing of the hospital, he slammed the double doors ahead open.A group of interns were nattering amongst themselves,oblivious to the frantic attending approaching them. A thundering voice broke them out of their trance.

"OUT OF MY WAY!", he boomed at them, as he was approaching closer.

The interns, startled by him, broke apart allowing him to pass through them. What made them wonder though, was the clear, unadulterated emotion in his eyes. He looked as though his world was slowly crumbling around him. And they weren't wrong.

2 Hours Earlier

Olivia was finishing up her rounds for the day. In a few hours she’d be home, snuggled with her favorite throw blanket, watching a movie on Netflix while Ethan would complain incessantly about her taste in movies. She had to visit her last patient, a sweet seven year old boy named Nathan.

His diagnosis was a difficult case to solve and this made young Nathan restless. His mom came to stay with him in the evening but she had to go to work early in the morning. The poor boy was often bored out of his mind, taking adventurous strolls through the hospital, without telling anyone. There were several instances that she and a few nurses had to track him down, but still Nathan continued doing that. She couldn’t really blame the poor kid. Today was just one of those days.

Olivia walked to the nurses' desk, to ask about Nathan.

"Hello Sarah, did you happen to see Nathan? I think he snuck out of his room again."

"Dr Valentine! No, I haven't. Maybe you should ask Mary. She might have an idea where Nathan is.", The nurse replied with a soft smile.

"Okay, thank you!"

She left the reception in search of Mary. Before long, she found her in one of the halls.

"Hi Mary, I was wondering if you've seen Nathan?", She inquired politely.

"Dr Valentine! I was just looking for you. I think I saw the kid heading towards the halls leading to the new wing."

"The new wing? Isn't that under construction?", Olivia asked, an audible tremor in her voice.

"Yes?"

"Oh God! Come on! We need to find him now!", she said, a feeling of worry and dread filling her. The new wing Bloom designed was essentially a plan to enlarge the facilities available for research. From what she heard, it wasn't safe to roam around the place without any safety gear. It was too dangerous to go there, especially for a young boy like Nathan, but she won’t let him fall to harm.

After a few minutes of darting around and asking everyone they encountered, Mary and Olivia got the same response. They saw a kid among these halls at some point. By the time they reached the site, Olivia and Mary began calling for him.

"Nathan? Are you here?"

"Nathan? Nathan come here, it's me, Dr Olivia"

No answer. Either he wasn't here or he just couldn't hear them clearly. The two women began to slow down their pacing steps as they carefully tread through the congested building site, all while calling for the young boy.

"Dr Oliv?", They heard a small shaky voice calling.

Olivia knew it was him and rushed towards the direction of the voice. Mary, hot on her heels, noticed him first.

"He's there!", She exclaimed, running to his side and checking over him for any injuries.

Olivia began walking towards them, relieved that Nathan was okay,when she heard a cracking noise. She quickly realized that the wall, they were close to, was about to collapse! With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she rushed towards them and pushed them away from the wall. She smiled softly at them before she heard a bigger *crack* and everything went black.

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MEANWHILE

Ethan was sitting at his computer, in his office, looking through files and updating the information onto his computer. Truth be told though, he was too distracted by a certain resident to concentrate on his current task.

Him and Olivia have been together for a little more than three months and he was happier than he had been in a long time. She really had the power to turn the worst of days better with just a smile.

She started coming to his house after work, in fact it’s almost like she had permanent residence in his heart and place. She spent most of the time there with him, just being together. Cooking, watching tv, playing ridiculous board games she always won. It was all very domestic and Ethan always felt his heart swell with love for her, at how at ease she felt being with him, in the place he now considered a home.

Glancing at the clock, he realised their shifts would end soon but he was too impatient. With a soft sigh, he turned off his computer and walked out of his office ,towards the front desk.

"Good afternoon, have you seen Dr. Valentine?", he asked a nurse he knew she frequently talked to.

"Dr. Ramsey! Yes, she was here a little while ago, she was looking for her young patient, Nathan. He has a habit of sneaking out of his room, you see - Wait a minute please!", she paused to answer the phone.

"Bloom Edenbrook Hospital how can I help you? Mary? What?! I’m sending the team right away!"

The woman, Sarah, turned to Ethan with a flurry of panic coursing in her eyes.

"Dr Ramsey, it was the nurse who was with Dr Valentine. They found the boy at the construction site! When they reached for him… a nearby wall collapsed on them!"

"What!? Oh my… No no no… Wh-What else did she tell you? Tell me!", he demanded, his eyes glossed with panic, the usual pink hue of his face drained as he turned as white as a sheet, his breathing in short stuttered gasps.

"Olivia ... was hit worst." Sarah whispered on the verge of tears.

"Page Mirani, Delarosa and the best nurses this damn hospital has! Understood! I'm going there now!"

Before she had a chance to reply, he was already off in search of his Olivia.

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PRESENT TIME

Ethan continued running through the maze of corridors, his eyes full of unshed tears.

"Not her, please not her! Don't take her from me! Please!", Ethan wasn't by any means a religious man, but the fear of losing the woman he loved made him pray to whoever could hear his agonized thoughts. The one person on this earth for whom he would give anything for, was again in grave danger. Memories from the last time she was at the brink of death flooded his mind, knocking the breath out of his lungs. How fragile she looked and to know he couldn't do anything to save her, other than watch her become progressively weaker and her radiant smile, the one that could lighten up a whole room, fade away. "No, don't do this right now Ethan. Focus on her. Only her.", he thought, nodding to himself while pushing the last hurdle of doors open. His eyes quickly scanned the room, trying to locate her.

He finally saw her.

She was lying on the floor pieces of rubble around her. She was unconscious, her eyes closed, her golden hair around her face. As he rushed to her side, whilst avoiding the scattered materials, he saw a small patch of blood on the side of her head.

He knelt beside her, being careful not to move her, in fear of causing more damage to her body. He took her small, still warm, hand in his and softly began to stroke her cheek and hair.

"Darling? Olivia? It's me, Ethan. Please Olivia, can you hear me?", his voice wavered at the sight of her blood on his fingers from stroking her hair and a few tears were finally breaking through.

Her eyes fluttered as a soft little gasp left her lips.

"E-Ethan?", she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Yes, Love it's me."

"I… it hurts.. I can't…", she croaked but it was too difficult for her to breathe properly, the dust hovering in the air wasn'tmaking this any easier. Ethan noticed this and pushed her head slightly back, to allow her to breathe better.

"Shh darling I know… I'm here love, I'm not going anywhere...Please sweetheart don't give up on me… please…I can't lose you", Ethan whispered, stroking her cheek softly, trying to be strong for her.

Olivia fell unconscious once again, her chest taking short ragged breaths. He pried his eyes away from her to look around the room. A woman was in the corner with a crying child in her arms, trying to comfort him.

" Hi… Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked them as he approached them.

"Nothing too bad. Might just be a sprained wrist and a couple of scratches. Nathan’s fine too, just shocked. Dr. Valentine…. she … she got the worst of it.", she replied with tears in her eyes.

Ethan didn't have a chance to reply as the team arrived. They immediately got down to work, not even hesitating to lose a minute, paying Ethan no attention.

"Get her on the gurney carefully! One mistake and you're fired!" Zaid commanded, with a fiery stern voice at the team of nurses.

"Zaid, she's got a cut on the side of her head and she's bleeding. I don't see anything too serious but we should order a scan. Shortness of breath indicates one or two fractured ribs and her left ulna and radius might be broken, given the swelling.", Ines said with evident concern and fear thick in her voice.

"Let's get some scans and see exactly what's going on", Zaid replied, trying to be as calm as possible, in this case. Olivia was his colleague,but more importantly she was his friend and he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. Not on his watch.

"I'm coming with you!", Ethan interrupted their conversation.

"You're not in the right state of mind to help her now!"

"Zaid’s right about this. She needs you to be calm and focused when she wakes up.", Ines told him resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Ethan had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

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

Several hours later, Ethan was pacing anxiously in front of the room Olivia was checked into. The night doctors were there checking on her. As soon as they heard what happened, her friends joined Ethan in the waiting room, to hear news about her condition. Sienna when she saw her best friend in that state, immediately broke down, Aurora and Elijah trying to comfort her. Bryce, Rafael and Jackie, were mostly silent, their minds running through endless scenarios of what could happen to the most courageous woman they knew.

She had a broken hand, three broken ribs; one of which was pressing too close to her lung; causing her difficulty in breathing smoothly. This required a minor surgery, which was conducted by Harper herself. She wouldn't let anyone else touch the woman she had come to consider a friend. Her head injury, thankfully, wasn't too bad, but there was a possibility of a mild concussion. The whole hospital was there to help Olivia in whatever way she needed. From nurses to interns to anyone she had always been kind to.

Now, Ethan was waiting outside of her room alone, because her friends left a few minutes ago. She wouldn't wake up for a few hours and they made sure she would be completely okay before they left. Besides, they knew that Ethan wouldn't leave her side. That is, once he got to finally see her.

Thirty agonizing minutes later, he was finally allowed to go into her room. His eyes glided across her small form on the hospital bed. The side of her head was wrapped in white gauze, because of the injury there. Her left arm was in a cast and placed on a pillow to make her more comfortable. She was hooked to an IV, her body seeming too delicate on the hospital bed. Her face was in a serene slumber, her body was still under the influence of the drugs she was given during and after her surgery.

Ethan took her soft hand in his, kissing her knuckles and looking tearfully at her.

"My love… You scared me so so much… When that nurse told me you were hurt… I thought I was going to lose you. Again.", He started talking to her, even though she couldn't hear him, he was baring his heart to her. Letting the tears he was holding on to fall.

"Finding you there, lying unconscious… was unbearable. Knowing that you may be gone forever, never being able to touch you, or see your beautiful smile, hear your awful jokes again… I’ve never believed in a higher power, but if there is a being that saved you, then I am grateful. Because, without you, none of this matters. You're my whole world Oliv. And this world means nothing to me if you’re not here darling", he finished , laying a soft kiss on her lips.

He stayed with her for a few hours, having no intention of leaving her, but Naveen forced him to go get a coffee and something to eat. Of course, Naveen promised he would stay there with her while Ethan was away.

On his way back to her room, he encountered Leland Bloom. "Great, just who I wanted to see", Ethan thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Ah Dr. Ramsey. I was just coming to find you. How is Dr. Valentine?", he asked with a facade of interest.

"She’s in her room resting. Still unconscious though, because of the anesthesia from her surgery. Now if you'll excuse me", Ethan curtly replied, walking past Leland, anxious to return to her room.

"I was hoping to come with you, actually. I wanted to ask you, will she make a full recovery?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, in a couple months she will probably be alright.", Ethan gritted his teeth, retraining his seething anger at how intrusive this man could be.

"Probably? You're not certain? If her recovery takes so long, then she will be left behind in the hospital's advances. Pity… she was actually going to be one of the key assets to the progression of the hospital's success.", Leland said, not having noticed or probably caring about Ethan's expression.

Ethan couldn't believe what he was hearing. The way he spoke of Olivia. His Olivia. A human being, as though she was nothing but a tool to be used. He clenched his fists, blood coursing through his veins, ears ringing, face and neck flushed red with anger, trying to resist the immense urge to punch him square in his arrogant face.

"How DARE you talk that way about a human being who was seriously hurt? She could have been fucking killed and all you have to say is that she would be an asset to the success of the hospital? What kind of person are you, really? Do you see anything beyond your own selfish, moronic advancements?", Ethan turned to him abruptly, almost roaring, all the pent up emotions escaping him in this outburst towards this man.

Leland was stunned at his outburst, mouth gaping open for a second before he recollected himself. The two of them had become the center of attention as the nurses and doctors were forming a small circle, staring at the two men.

"I would best advise you against speaking to me like that Dr. Ramsey. I'm the one who is in charge here and I expect you to treat me with respect. Now, I understand you are under pressure right now since your partner was hurt, so I'm willing to look past this little tantrum. See you soon, Dr Ramsey." he replied, walking away from Ethan, who was stalking his way down the corridor to Olivia’s room, unbothered by Bloom’s words.

The only person in this world whose words mattered, laid in a hospital bed right now, and he vowed he would not spend any more precious time away from her. Because despite what life throws at them, all that matters is that his Rookie ... his Olivia ... his true love will be alright. They will be alright. Together.

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Thank you for reading !!!

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mazekingdom · 3 years

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INTERPRETATION: Yuma and Hyuse Ch 210

This is going to be the most sincere and unironic World Trigger post I’ve ever made but this panel instantly floored me when I read it and I need to express my thoughts about it immediately. I feel like you can extrapolate a lot from this, not only about Yuma and Hyuse but also about the other agents and Border as a whole. My personal analysis on the Border combat system & it’s effects on the agents under the cut! Be warned, it's very long.

As we know, Border is structured so that agents can fight at minimum risk to their actual lives. Primarily because of trion bodies and bail out, but their fortress of a headquarters & the fact that they’re all volunteers play a role as well. Obviously from a meta perspective this is a world-building choice that allows the story to avoid major character death, as well as the anxiety and complicated emotions that would come from constantly being in physical danger, so that the plot can focus on cool fight strategies and fun casual interactions between the squads. But what I think is interesting about World Trigger is that while the story doesn't focus heavily on these themes, it doesn't avoid them altogether either.

We have seen in the story that, while combat bodies and bail out make it so that agents are not regularly in mortal danger on the field, all of these safeguards are not foolproof. The first humanoid neighbor invasion actually has a death toll as a result of Enedra attacking Border HQ directly, and the arc ends with Osamu risking his life and getting seriously injured in his real body (an action that is taken very seriously by other characters, particularly Jin). In the end, trion bodies are only a protection for a limited period of time, and bail out as an escape is only as secure as your base is. If Border HQ was ever seriously compromised the stakes would start to get very real, very quickly.

World Trigger clearly knows how to write complex emotional conflict -- it's done it with Chika, Yuma, and a few other characters over the course of the manga -- it just does it sparingly. World Trigger could use the trion combat system to completely skip over the concept of mortal danger, but it's chosen not to. I think that's really interesting, and for me it opens the door to speculation about the specific relationship that Border agents would have with physical injury and the concept of mortality, if they can constantly fight and get hurt at (as far as we’re aware) little risk of permanent damage.

This is where Hyuse and Yuma come into play. The relationship that they both have to combat is wildly different than that of most border agents, which is proven by their comments in this chapter and others. We know for a fact that Yuma has been fighting in neighborhood wars since he was a kid and that he has been in mortal peril himself on at least one occasion. Given what we know of the situation in the Neighborhood, I would guess that Hyuse has had similar experiences. Clearly they don’t have any illusions about being impervious to physical danger, and are used to strategizing with this fact in mind.

The only technology that Border has that neighbors as a whole don’t is bail out (and some neighbor groups do have bail out now). Triggers are neighbor technology and they use trion bodies in combat just like Border does. The main difference between Yuma and Hyuse’s experience with combat and Border agents’ is that trion-based conflict in the neighborhood is constant and ongoging, and Yuma and Hyuse presumably have not had the option to opt out and go home.

So given their backgrounds, it’s not surprising that Hyuse and Yuma would come to the conclusion that the squad switch-up could be testing the waters for the possibility that people will be lost on the mission. That doesn’t say a whole lot about them that we don’t already know. However, the fact that they were the only ones to offer up this possibility in my opinion does say a lot about everyone else.

The purpose of the squad switching (in relation to the mission only and not counting the “it’s so that we can make better B-rank squads” thing) seems relatively clear to me; the away mission is going to be a chaotic environment with constantly shifting factors, and the agents on it need to be able to deal with change. Most of the things said by characters in these chapters fits into this assumption pretty well. But part of that chaotic environment is going to be serious danger, and I don’t think that’s been talked about enough. They’re not operating on home turf, don’t have access to all of their technology, and could be entering into situations that are actively hostile. It is an entirely different combat environment to the scattered monster fights and tower-defense setup they’re used to back home. And the away mission ship isn’t going to hold a candle to Border HQ in terms of strength of defenses. Even if the away mission agents can bail out back to the ship (and according to Ashihara that technology has limitations), they could still be in danger regardless, and the away mission should be planned with this in mind.

So the fact that it’s highlighted that only Yuma and Hyuse have offered up the possibility of agents dying on the mission (if I’m going to get all comic-studies-y about it I’d love to note that not only are the panels of the agents who’s opinions are being discussed inherently dramatic in their composition, but at least on VIZ.com the Hyuse and Yuma one is on the other side of a page flip which holds suspense and makes the impact of their statements stronger), as well as their comments being marked as “a neighbor thing to say”, in my opinion confirms that the other squad members might not be considering physical danger as a real possibility. Personally, I think that makes a lot of sense. I think that it could be easy to forget that danger to your real body is possible if you are constantly fighting and getting injured in a fake body and can beam safely back to a base that rarely gets breached if that body gets destroyed. If this series had a slightly different tone, I would say that exploring the assumption made by characters that HQ is a safe haven from danger to your real body could make for an interesting plotline. And that's definitely an idea that could be touched on on the away mission as well, if the story wanted to take that route.

As a side note -- it also makes sense to me that those comments from Yuma & Hyuse would get some upvotes from higher ranking agents who have probably had experience in more dangerous situations (particularly Jin; I’m sure he understands the stakes of all of this quite well considering his side effect but that’s another post entirely).

Anyways, in the end this is mostly conjecture and personal interpretation on my part. Obviously WT is a shounen series about teens that remains overall pretty lighthearted, and serious stakes like death don’t get brought into the story very often and I respect that. But I think that the few situations in which we have had to grapple with more intense consequences for things have been really thought provoking, and the setup of WT creates a great jumping off point for a lot of interesting concepts imo.

I do think that there's probably a point to Yuma and Hyuse bringing up the concept of agents dying on the mission though -- World Trigger isn't really one to leave threads hanging and when concepts are focused on it's usually for a reason. And the story has certainly been willing to acknowledge heavier topics in the past even if they're not focused on directly in the main story, so I doubt that they're going to completely skip over it after this. But exactly what it's leading into I couldn't say. It's equally likely that the point of this was to emphasize how desensitized to conflict the neighbors are in comparison to Border, or both that and my previous theory. Regardless, we're probably going to be getting some more complex emotional arcs (à la Chika's mental block) from the characters once the theoretical away mission arc starts, or at least it seems that way.

Anyways, if anyone has any thoughts on this besides me, I would love to hear them! I might be talking to an audience of just myself with this post lol, but either way if you read it all I hope you found it interesting at least!

#world trigger #talk tag #that panel really did surprise me because I was honestly not expecting them to bring up that concept at all period #and the fact that they did is very intriguing to me and kind of made me #do a double take at my assumptions of what concepts the plot is and isn't willing to touch #anyways as I said in the post the disclaimer is that this is all my personal interpretation!#who knows where the story is actually going I will not pretend to tell Ashihara what to do lmao

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tsu9live · 3 years

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Before I start, this is in no offence to anyone else’s opinion. You are all valid and probably make more sense than me. This is a bit of a rant and then a short character study.

Warning: This got too long.

I tend to come online for manga updates and ended up reading through opinion posts because I am a curious cat. Most of the time I come across really well-thought out posts, really valid points. But then MHA is also a soap opera/family drama where the main character is not supposed to have any progress in his story unless its to bolster or move along the other favs . But then they shouldn’t be bolstering his story either because why is a story about Deku’s journey all about Deku?

But then there are people who are happy Deku is finally edgy and they want him to wipe the floor with his classmates who love him and are willing to fight him if only to get through to him. So there are both extremes and honestly there is validity in all these thoughts because despite the writer’s intentions, a reader brings the story to life.

I personally hate making my own predictions because most of the time I feel it ruins the experience of reading a work for me. I go in with different expectations and when the story goes a different way I don’t enjoy it as much but I feel its more my fault.

So I do understand and respect the difference of opinion because there is no fandom without discourse.

In my opinion though, this Deku solo arc was a long time coming and I think Horikoshi has handled it really weird. I’m still trying to understand what he wants us to think about.

A story about heroes and putting your life on the line for someone else is controversial, but, I thought it was a given. Recklessness had been part of Deku’s character but an overly-cautious character would do nothing. Deku’s lack of self-preservation wasn’t unnatural for a hero, he rushed in to save Bakugo from the slime-villain when Pros stood by putting himself at risk but it spurred AM to act. Katsuki experienced it as well during the war arc, when his body moved to save Deku.

Going to Kamino to save Bakugo was suicidal, reckless and potentially flawed but story-wise it made sense. How is hero-work anything than risky? Kirishima and Todoroki initiated it.

Disclaimer: Deku, Bakugo, Uraraka, Momo, Toga and Shigaraki are characters that are very dear to me because they have had me extremely invested since the beginning of the story. This is my personal opinion, flaws, rant... basically me working through my feelings about this manga I had been obsessed with recently.

1) There is an opinion where Bakugo had a right to be upset/angry/bully Deku because he wanted to be a hero but did nothing for it. Firstly, I don’t understand the need to justify his behaviour when he himself has expressed regret on it. People want others to move on from the “go jump off the roof comment” but won’t stop talking about how everything about Bully Bakugo was justified. Deku was weaker, but he had the same dreams, dreams that were the basis of their friendship earlier on. Regardless of how Deku wanted to achieve them, Bakugo had no right to keep trying to stop him from doing so. No, 5, 10, 14 year old Bakugo did not do so because he had the brilliant foresight that Deku would be self-sacrificial and it was for his sake, he was an angry kid and Deku was a timid, wannabe that confused him, intimidated him even. Taking out his anger was a way of working through those feelings. He was in Deku’s words “a punching bag”. In a world where the powerful reign, Bakugo couldn’t understand how a quirk less, weak little boy could think he could stand shoulder to shoulder with someone as gifted as Bakugo. Yeah, society is very much to blame. The change and maturity Bakugo goes through where he is humbled by a cast of amazing hero students who are just as gifted yet with inspiring personalities and then traumatic consequences of being kidnapped, watching his hero use the last of his powers to hold back a great evil, having that fight with Deku where he bared himself open, failing the licensing exam, training with todoroki, the internship... the war has changed him in a way that has brought out his full potential as a hero and a person. There is a lot to admire about him yet I see so many people fixate on headcanons that glorify his every action/word instead of praising the amazing person he has become/how well written his growth has been.

2) “Deku wanted to be a hero and he did nothing for it”. “He could have been a quirkless hero like Batman.” Listen, the story is about AFO vs OFA first and foremost. Hori has done a good job of worldbuilding and adding a cast of interesting characters that its easy to forget what the main plot point of the story is. But it really is about a weak/timid boy who was born with a sort of handicap who dared to dream to be someone strong enough to have others rely on him instead. A lot of the times people want to become something they feel they needed, someone who gave people hope just by existing. Its natural for someone who is ‘considered useless’ to want to be the most useful person ever. His mother didn’t believe he could do it, Bakugo told him repeatedly he shouldn’t even try, everyone else made fun of him, and his hero gave him a wake-up call, no... you can’t be a hero without a quirk. Deku studied heroes and quirks all his life, hoping he’d find something that could work for his advantage. Not every hero relies on physical strength, their bodies are adapted to the nature of their quirks. Deku’s analysis, quick-thinking and impulsive nature is what helped him progress even after getting the quirk because he didn’t gain control until really late. People act like he was handed power, seem to forget he has just learned to use it without consequences. His studies of quirks also made him the best candidate to get new quirks, quirks that he has learned to utilise as tools quickly and efficiently. He was doing what he thought was going to help him become a hero without guidance, without backing and constant discouragements. Its admirable and relatable. If you don’t relate to him that’s fine, your life was different.

Batman was loaded. Deku is not an inventor. The Editors shot that idea down because it would not have survived in a genre where power fantasies are the main hooks. Aizawa, sure he’s training Shinso because he sees his potential now but he would have either expelled Deku/moved him to General studies on that first day for scoring the least in that test. He changed his mind not because of Deku’s quirk but because of Deku’s ingenuity.

When Deku did find his guidance, he tried to do years of work/training in a short period of time. He acknowledges how far behind he is, that the rest are leagues above him and all he wants is to be able to stand side by side with those incredible people and he would go to all lengths to do so. DEKU has never said he wants to be the number one hero. He always says he wants to be one so reliable he saves people with a smile and later on, he wants to be a hero that can save without having other people worry about him. Bakugo works hard, he’s not just exceptional he works hard for it, all of 1A do but saying Deku does nothing when he is constantly shown, studying, training his body, understanding his shortcomings and working on it is just petty. You don’t like him because of his saviour complex, newsflash, that is a hero thing. Hero course is about that, Deku’s is just highlighted because of how often he gets hurt. How can you be a Todoroki stan and hate Deku (although to be fair its your right, I’m just making a point), the kid saw Shouto and decided that it was more important for Shouto to stop hurting and gave him a hell of a fight. I still remember Shouto’s smile, it gave me goose bumps.

Deku’s lack of self-preservation is a part of his programming so much that he hasn’t noticed it yet. Deku broke his bones, but he didn’t realise the permanent damage. When Deku got injured with Muscular, he was never intending to fight him alone. He wanted backup, his phone was broken and he wanted to get Kouta out and tried but Muscular gave him no opening. He was driven into a corner and fought his way out. Like Aizawa said, “He got that injured because he has no intention of dying.” Before rushing to find Bakugo, he informed his superior first, knowing she can spread the message.

The fight with Stain, he messaged his location to all his classmates, didn’t intend to fight Stain alone, just defend Iida long enough for help to come along. Fight with overhaul, he just wanted to get Eri away and when he understood Eri’s power, he gave her the opportunity to fight back against her oppressor by teaming up with him, keeping her secure with the cape made out of Lemillion’s hair. During the whole fight he was present-minded enough to take the fight away from civilians and managed to prevent damage and casualties. During Natsuo’s rescue he played support.

During the war arc, he realised with despair that Shigaraki was coming in all his destructive glory for him and tried to stop him before but he didn’t object to Bakugo joining him. In the movie Heroes Rising (the initially planned ending) he willingly gave OFA to Bakugo, because he trusts him with his life, and was willing to be quirkless again if that’s what it took to keep the kids safe, and himself and Bakugo alive. Its mostly been good decisions on his part.

Its the war arc that’s been his downfall. Watching his childhood friend/rival almost die, his best friend, his mentors almost die while he could barely hold Shigaraki back set off a fight or flight response in him. The seriousness of how Shigaraki came for him and left such death and destruction in his wake because he was not strong enough and AFO is a monster and the sight of Shigaraki and the reality of his situation pushed him down the current path. His solo arc started well because constantly training in the field has helped him master his quirk, and he had the backup of the vestiges who trained and guided him in learning to use it as a toolset instead of a one-punch solution. Then coming face to face with the flaws of hero society and the power, manipulative nature and destructive intentions of AFO has prepared him emotionally. He is not acting like AM, he hasn’t in a while. He is acting like NANA and i don’t blame him because she’s in his head. No adult stopped him from doing this, instead using him as bait to lure out the league.

When they started realising he’s spiralling out of control, that’s when they realised they messed up.

He’s running on adrenaline/fumes alone and I think he’s actually terrified.

“AFO is OFA’s responsibility” “Tell the world I am here” “You’re not as strong as me yet,” “You are not a worthy successor”

Deku isn’t self-centered and but I agree with the screw loose comment (its years of “you are useless, not good enough, not worthy and I bet a dozen or so concussions, bloodloss, dehydration lol). I know Bakugo means well and that’s how he talks. At the moment, he’s probably the only one whose sole goal is Deku’s survival. Deku’s like a wild animal, terrified, lost and as always backed into a corner. AFO has him where he wants him and I am curious to see how class 1 A are going to get through to him. I don’t want them to fight, all those fanarts of Bakugo reaching his hand out to Deku and then maybe punching him in the face would have been a lot better then the mocking (the slow clap was a little triggering for me) but again maybe it just bothers me and Deku needs it. I’ll just have to wait and see. Deku and his class together would be an unstopabble force and I am waiting for that to finally happen.

P.S. Class 1 A looks so mature, everyone going crazy about Bakugo and his tie and I’m here like, look at baby Kirishima and his roots <3

I’m sorry if I gave anyone a headache lol.

#bnha spoilers #deku #personal rant #character study #midoriya izuku #bnha 319 #mha

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boysupe · 3 years

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Anyways here we go lmao this is gonna get deep-

Jon wants to be on a team, he wants to collaborate with a group of people who understand him. He desires friendship, companionship, deep emotional bonds like he sees his dad forming with the Justice League. However, it would be better for everyone, including Jon, if he just stuck to partnerships or occasional group efforts and never was named a permanent member.

Jon is someone who would thrive in a team- at the beginning. The trouble comes whenever he starts to get to know everyone. When he starts developing relationships. Jon is protective of his friends and family, and when you’ve been through hell with a group of people, you get close. Jon would listen to all of their concerns, all of their troubles, all of their angst and soak it up like a sponge. He would take on more and more burdens, he doesn’t WANT his friends to suffer. He doesn’t want them to deal with their demons alone. He gets too involved, he tries to be the dependable person his Dad is, but he’s still just a child. He cannot handle the weight of so many people’s complicated backstories and traumas, try as he might. Jon would also become fearful, fearful that he will eventually hurt one of his teammates. He will pull away, while still acting like everything is a-okay. He will become terrified of himself accidentally harming his friends with his powers, they are still kind of unstable after all. It will come to a boiling point, combined with everyone’s burdens and Jon will explode. He’ll disappear, most likely going to the farm in Kansas and just sitting there among the silence. He’ll release all of his energy, now no longer afraid that he will hurt others. However, the damage would have been done. He sees the aftermath, he realizes that if he hadn’t had that self control, he could have harmed his friends. He withdraws from the team and gets sent down a spiral of self loathing.

Also, Jon will eventually end up craving the respect of his teammates. He will want to be treated as an equal, someone on par with everyone else. However Jon is young, he will be one of the youngest on the team if not the youngest. Sure he’s powerful, but his naive nature and his reckless attitude spells trouble. Teammates will likely not trust him with bigger tasks, they would baby him, they would talk down to him. Even if they didn’t mean it, or they were unaware they were doing it, Jon will never be equal in a team of people older and more experienced than him. He will see this as an insult, and more than likely, place himself in more and more dangerous situations so he can save the day and gain everyone’s respect. He will put himself in jeprody so people can finally take him seriously, because he believes this will show them he can handle big threats. However, he will be deaf to the concerns of his teammates that he is pushing too hard, that he simply isn’t skilled enough yet. He will see this as a further challenge, and it will reach a breaking point where either he or teammate is injured.

In short, Jon works well in groups. On a temporary basis where he can still get the job done, but not get too close to where he’ll unintentionally hurt them or himself. He works best in partnerships, and while Damian refuses to admit it, Jon and Damian see each other as equals. They trust each other. They have each other’s respect that has grown due to Jon’s actions and behavior and his way of talking to Damian and working with him. Not allowing Damian to bulldoze him. This is why it works so well, they foil each other in the best ways. However, in a more group setting, there’s different balances and power dynamics that are more difficult to manage.

When Jon matures? Maybe, but as his current 10 year old self, it’s better to just keep him on his own or in partnerships until he reaches his mid teens at least.

#( THE WRITER ) - OOC

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aurora077 · 3 years

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Void

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786191/1/Void

Title: Void

Summary: Adrien Agreste was the perfect son. He had perfect grades, perfect looks, a perfect personality. Perfection however, has its price.

Post NY Special.

Can be read as a sequel to Aeon but also is a standalone.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Adrien Agreste was the perfect son. He had perfect grades, perfect looks, a perfect personality. (Or, so everyone but his father thought. Ironic given that he was the very reason Adrien even strived for perfection.) What nobody ever talked about however, was that perfection had its price.

And Adrien was a perfect client. He paid his dues in full.

Who even was Adrien Agreste?

Model…

Son…

Classmate...

Or, simply a doll...made to be seen and not heard.

Perfection was a sham after all. Nobody was perfect. He knew that better than most.

(Father would disagree, but then again, Father didn’t agree with him about anything.)

For ages he had tried to please everyone, and in doing so, he ended up losing himself.

When his mother had disappeared (ran away, people whispered when they thought he couldn’t hear, ran away from her cold husband and their cold home) he’d thought if only he had been a better son maybe she would have stayed (or would have taken him with her...a thought he’d never dared to utter, even to himself.) He still had Father and so unable to do anything about his mother, he tried to be the best he could be so that Father wouldn’t leave him too.

What a waste, he scoffed internally. Father couldn’t even be bothered to see him in person, preferring to communicate via Nathalie. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal with him. And the only time Father bothered to talk to him in person and without an appointment was to let him know what else he was disappointed about. What else he thought his son lacked. How much of a disgrace Adrien was to the Agreste name.

He reclined his incredibly comfortable seat and just lay there staring at the ceiling of the plane.

The private plane.

The private plane that he was on because once again Father couldn’t just let him have a single moment of normalcy. One moment to be a regular boy on a class trip with his friends.

Although this time maybe it was a blessing in disguise. He didn’t know how he would have been able to hold up if he had to be around his classmates and pretend that everything was okay. Because it was not okay.

He was not okay.

And he wouldn’t even be able to explain to them why.

He was grateful to be alone on the plane. No Father, no Nathalie, no Gorilla. (No Plagg either, whispered the voice in his head.) With nobody around Adrien was finally able to let the facade of perfection drop.

For the first time since he had been granted the honour of being Chat Noir, he was well and truly alone.

His eyes burned but the tears wouldn’t come. The hurt felt deeper than that. He was almost numb. It was as if his brain told his body ‘not right now’. His mind knew he wouldn’t be able to handle all the emotions brought on by the past few hours. It was too soon. The wounds too fresh. Too deep.

There was a void within him, and all feeling got sucked into the blackness of it. There was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been (and coincidentally where Plagg’s camembert had always been hidden). If he had remembered it, he would have given it to Plagg as one last gift before parting ways.

But as it was, at the moment of renouncing him all Adrien was thinking about was how he had let Paris down, almost seriously injured his partner and had all but killed someone. It didn’t matter that the only reason Aeon had been destroyed was that she was in fact not actually alive. She was alive in all the ways it counted. She was more alive it seemed, than Adrien Agreste. More loved too.

“I am here to take captive those who are loved by no one!” Solitude had said. And by that he had most certainly meant Adrien. Between him and Marinette, well Adrien knew which one was loved. Adrien had fans and he had friends. But at the end of the day his fans and his friends only knew so much about him. (In no small part thanks to his father, his friends would always have to be subjected to Perfect Agreste rather than Just Adrien.) And after all how could you love someone you didn’t know?

Ladybug would argue that he didn’t know her but loved her anyway. But that was different. He may not have known her name or her face but he did know her. Conversely, everyone knew his name and his face, yet nobody knew him.

Solitude was aptly named wasn’t he? Adrien was already in solitude’s grasp long before he ever came to New York.

Especially since there was no more Plagg, who had served to be Adrien’s one sliver of freedom, and also the only being who had known him, truly known him... in and out of the mask. His most cherished companion. He was gone and Adrien was the one who threw him away.

He hoped Plagg could forgive him one day, and that whoever Ladybug chose to replace him as Chat Noir would treat him well and be able to afford the camembert he so loved. Losing Plagg, even if it was by his own doing, would take him a while to get over. He’d never said it but he loved the kwami fiercely. Not just for the powers and freedom he granted him but for the way Plagg knew how to cheer him up when he got too down and how Plagg would curl up next to him at night and purr until he fell asleep. Plagg was sarcastic and blunt but he was genuine and cared about Adrien a whole lot more than literally everybody else in his life. He encouraged him to come out of his shell and live a little. And he knew if Plagg had his way he wouldn’t be kept in the dark about anything. Plagg looked out for him in his own way. Adrien didn’t have anyone else like Plagg.

Sure sometimes Plagg’s advice could get him into trouble, but it was Adrien who chose to accept that advice. He should have told Ladybug he was going to be away on a class trip. He was just so scared that she’d lose trust in him because he had given her his word. In the end it didn’t matter, he’d lost her trust anyway. The way he saw it, he wouldn’t have won no matter what he’d chosen to do. It’s not as if he could explain to Ladybug why he had agreed to protect Paris only to turn around and say he couldn’t. She didn’t want to know. Identities and all that. (And clearly, Plagg didn’t disagree because he wouldn’t have encouraged Adrien to stay quiet if he had thought she’d be fine with him going… Given that Plagg knew who Ladybug was, Adrien chose to trust his advice. Not like he could have said no to his father when he made up his mind anyway. Adrien would not have won in this situation.)

Plagg had ranted and raved about how much easier things would be for both of them if they didn’t have these secrets in the way. Adrien agreed but it wasn’t his call to make. She was the guardian. And if even after all that she didn’t want him to know who she was...she didn’t want to know who he was, well there was nothing he or Plagg could do about it.

He didn’t forget that though he’d given up his miraculous, she hadn’t cared to look at him. She still didn’t want to know. He hadn’t expected her to stop him or beg him to stay. He knew he’d screwed up and that she’d lost faith in him. But even at the end she hadn’t wanted to know him. To know who had stood by her side all this time... or who had failed her.

But anyway, Adrien mused, it was inevitable. He was bound to screw up and lose his miraculous one way or another. As a result of Adrien Agreste being perfection incarnate, Chat Noir was carefree and subsequently, careless, as Ladybug would attest.

It was his carelessness that led to Paris being severely damaged. It was his carelessness that lost him his lady’s trust. His carelessness that would have injured her. His carelessness that erased the lights from Aeon’s eyes, permanently if not for the Miracle Cure.

Ladybug would be better off without him, he knew. She needed someone who was careful and responsible, like she was.

And that couldn’t be Adrien. Adrien loved her too much to be careful when it came to her. As Chat he would often throw himself in front of blows meant for her. And while he would never stop protecting her, he also knew it made her job harder having to fight him alongside the akuma. Another Chat Noir with less feelings invested might be able to find a better solution. But that Chat was not him. Try as he might he could not stop how he felt about her, even when he had other girls around him who he was sure he could come to love if she wasn’t in the picture.

Marinette’s face came to mind unbiddenly and his sorrow intensified. He’d been so grateful to her. She’d managed against all odds to convince his father to let him come and it was for nothing really. All he’d ended up doing was causing damage as Chat and leaving anyway as Adrien. He meant what he said to her. He would have loved to have spent more time with her (and their friends).

For once he felt like he truly belonged and could be with them as just another kid. She’d made that possible. He’d wanted nothing more for so long than to be able to be a better friend to her. He always felt like he made her uncomfortable which was the last thing he wanted, so for her to want him there meant the world to him. She was such a good friend.

She’d looked devastated when his father’s car pulled up at the hotel. Sans Father of course...Adrien didn’t count the tablet with his head as him. Though the result was the same regardless of his physical presence or lack thereof. Adrien had to leave. It seemed he was always leaving behind the people he cared about. Though it was no sweat off his father’s back. Adrien shouldn’t care about people he didn’t approve of and so had no right to miss them.

He knew Marinette wouldn’t be able to sway his father a second time, but he could admit, even if only to himself, that he was a little sad she hadn’t said anything to him before he left. He’d sort of wished she would tell him to stay or that she would miss him. But that was unfair to Marinette. It was thanks to her he could even come to begin with.

And he knew what he really wished was for Ladybug to have said she would miss him, even if she didn’t want him to stay. He knew she didn’t love him, but he hoped he was at least her friend. One who at the very least could understand some of the burden of a double life. (Or in his case, triple really.)

He chuckled darkly. ‘How naive of me’, he thought. He was merely a work colleague and a poor one at that. Former work colleague that is.

His heart clenched painfully. It would be unbearable to see her working with another. It would devastate him to go back to being a random civilian to her, when she inevitably saved him from future attacks. He wouldn’t be able to help her or to even show that she could come to him for anything, because he shouldn’t know her, not really.

She’d know Adrien Agreste, whose perfect face was displayed across Paris on billboards. Adrien Agreste would know Ladybug as Paris’s superheroine. Ladybug and Adrien Agreste knew each other as celebrities did and nothing more. The one perk to his face on billboards may just be that at the very least, he was someone she would recognise and remember even if only as a celebrity. If she couldn’t remember him at all...if he was invisible to her...Adrien didn’t know what would become of him.

God, he would miss her so, so much. Before she became the guardian they had had a lot of moments where she would banter with him and even playfully tease him. They talked about insignificant things but it gave him joy. Nino was great and he was more himself with Nino than anyone else as Adrien, but it was with Ladybug that he felt safe and happy enough to let go of all of his inhibitions. She was one of his dearest friends, he had meant what he said to her the day she rejected his dinner. He truly valued her friendship. But as he was coming to realise, Adrien Agreste may not know so much about relationships. She had never called him her friend after all. She seemed to be a well adjusted person beyond the mask. And she was so amazing, she probably had an active social life. Who wouldn’t want to be her friend? She wouldn’t need his friendship like he needed hers. And she certainly didn’t crave it the way he did.

He didn’t know a lot of things that people his age should know about the world and people. Nino did his best to guide him but again, Father hated Nino so there was only so much he could do. Plagg tried too but Plagg wasn’t exactly human and didn’t understand things himself sometimes.

He felt like his thoughts were all jumbled and going around in circles. His emotions were too heavy. It made him glad he wasn’t in Paris. He didn’t want to know what kind of akuma he could become with the amount of hurt he was currently nursing.

Thinking of her sobs when she saw the destruction done to Paris that she couldn’t reverse… because of him...well it solidified that he had made the right decision. It may have been the most painful thing he had ever had to do, but he loved her and he never wanted to put her in that kind of position again. He would put her, put Paris, before himself. He was accustomed to doing that anyway. He hid away his needs and desires to be what the ones he loved needed him to be.

And if what they needed..what they wanted, was perfect then by George he would give them perfection....

Or stand aside for someone who could.

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hedwigstalons · 4 years

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FabFiveFeb - John

And so the series concludes. Thank you @gumnut-logic for the prompts and the challenge. I was impatiently awaiting the space boy but maybe you were just saving the best brother until last.

This offering uses the prompts of ‘concrete’, ‘paper’ and ‘soft caress’

xoxoxox

It was meant to be a simple evacuation exercise. Ordinarily Thunderbird Three would not be sent up single-manned but with Scott, Virgil and Gordon all out at various rescues already, and Kayo off on a mission for the GDF, they hadn’t had much choice. An asteroid mining rig was malfunctioning, as was the crew’s shuttle, and so Alan had been dispatched to play taxi service. A quick round trip to the rock to pick up the stranded crew.

Easy.

The crew was evidently resourceful at making repairs and by the time Thunderbird Three had arrived the shuttle and her crew were making a hasty retreat from their malfunctioning and volatile machinery. He hailed them cheerily over the comms and received thanks and apologies for his own wasted trip in return. That should have been the end of it. One more false alarm marked up in the log book.

There was one problem.

The mining rig should have had a mandatory minimum operational crew of six but only five personnel were in the shuttle.

Alan touched down on the surface of the asteroid. Years of dedication and devotion to saving lives meant that he couldn’t trust it was just an administration error. His conscious wouldn’t allow him to head for home if one poor soul was stranded somewhere on that inhospitable rock. He radioed his intent to John and received acknowledgement of his plan in return. After giving his assurances that of course he would be careful, and of course he knew the call out what because the equipment was malfunctioning, Alan headed over to the machinery housing.

Alan cautiously made his way through the mining complex. It was a small affair; aside from the drill room there was just a crew bunk house and life support facilities giving small comfort to the personnel who called that asteroid both home and work for six months at a time. He called out as he went but any response would have been drowned out by the hideous noises being made by the drill. The crew had been unable to shut the equipment down before departing.

It was easy to see that the living quarters were empty. The rooms were sparse and the comforts minimal. The operating company evidently didn’t think much to investing in the welfare of their staff.

He headed cautiously into the drill room.

It seemed there hadn’t been much investment here either. The equipment was archaic and in a poor state of repair. Parts crunched together and groaned ominously. In one area repairs had been attempted by holding parts in place with zip ties.

Seriously, who used zip ties on a mining rig?

Alan skirted cautiously round the machinery, not prepared to leave until he was sure there was no one else left. The drill was making tortured screams. Gears and coils strained under the pressure of operating out of alignment. Emergency shut down had failed as the operation fought back against years of neglect and running on a shoestring.

Speaking of shoestrings, was that pipe held in place by a boot lace?

The screams were replaced by a guttural juddering sound as cogs meshed together. Banging and clanking indicated parts locking then slipping past each other again. The drill rig was now shaking ominously and Alan realised the time had come to evacuate. There was no sign of a sixth crew member and Alan doubted one had ever been present. Yet another space code violation to add to the list.

Shoddy record keeping.

Shoddy maintenance.

He never made it back to the door. The overloaded system could no longer contain the increasing pressure and the machinery failed in spectacular fashion. Chunks of metal were ejected violently from the drill rig. The air became filled with deadly projectiles. Cogs flew through the air with enough force to smash through concrete.

Just as well Alan’s chest plate was stronger than concrete.

Silence fell.

“Come in Thunderbird Three. What is your status?”

The explosion then ominous silence had been clearly audible over the open comms line.

John tried reaching his brother again.

“Alan! Alan, talk to me!”

It felt like an eternity before the weak voice answered his hail.

“ ‘m…ok…John. Just…a bit…battered.”

A bit battered was an understatement. His arms and legs felt bruised but his biggest concern was the pain in his chest. One particularly aggressive missile had hit his left side and slammed him into the wall. The chest plate itself had buckled under the impact and was now pressing into him in a way that could only mean broken ribs. He knew he should feel lucky. Without his armour plating the impact would certainly have killed him.

He didn’t feel lucky.

All he could feel was a world of pain.

He tried to move but the intense stabbing sensation in his side issued a firm warning that moving was a bad idea. He settled back against the wall into which he had been thrown and tried to regain his composure.

Deep, steadying breaths to help push through the pain.

Except he couldn’t.

Inhaling felt beyond his abilities. He could only manage short, ragged breaths that brought no relief. Oxygen, so precious in the voids of space, felt to be in short supply. He found himself panting rapidly but each breath was too shallow and the waves of dizziness and nausea just increased. He was alone with no one to help him. Tears rolled down his cheeks, a salty mix of fear and pain.

xoxoxox

Some people might think that operating Thunderbird Five was the easiest of the International Rescue roles.

Those people would be wrong.

Coordinating rescues could be hard.

Hearing brothers injured and in pain and not being able to a thing about it. Immersed in the action yet removed and isolated. Helpless. Impotent. A bystander looking at the devastation from the outside. Unable to reach out. Unable to turn away. That was the hardest job of all.

“John. I’m registering a deterioration in Thunderbird Three’s vital signs.”

He didn’t need the observations of the AI to know that Alan was in a bad way.

“I know, Eos.”

“Thunderbirds One, Two and Four have returned to base.”

“I know, Eos.”

“John, you are showing signs of distress. Your heart rate, blood pressure and cortisol levels are showing significant elevations.”

“I know, Eos!”

He didn’t mean to shout. He knew she was only doing the job she was programmed to do; keeping a watching eye on himself and his brothers. It was so deeply ingrained into her subroutines. A permanent watch that always occupied a portion of her processors no matter what else she was doing. But at the moment her observations were not helpful. He was all too aware that one sibling was hurt and the others had no way of reaching him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed up his eyes slightly.

It didn’t help.

“Eos, plot the course to asteroid JX387.”

The AI knew better than to point out that Thunderbird Five was not designed as a long range ship. She had the capabilities to complete the journey and that was all that mattered. The usually dormant thrusters sprang into life and commenced the task of propelling the satellite toward her stranded sister craft.

When the admission of fear came through the comms from his youngest brother, in a voice that was wavering and betrayed his tender years, John’s heart broke. It was one thing to provide reassurances to strangers but quite another when your own flesh and blood were involved.

Flesh and blood.

The words conjured up vivid imaginings of what he might find when he finally reached the asteroid.

“Alan, I need you to stay with me.”

“John?”

“I’m here Alan.”

“I’m…scared.”

The voice over the comms was strained and week. The shallow, laboured breathing picked up clearly by the sensitive microphone built into Alan’s helmet. The life signs being monitored by Eos were registering an accelerated heart rate.

“I know, Allie. I’m coming for you.”

John wasn’t normally one for pet names but there was something about that voice, so raw and vulnerable, the reminded him of the five year old that used to seek him out after a nightmare to be soothed by stories of the stars that now surrounded them both.

Determination flooded his system. Concentrating on the task in hand he piloted Thunderbird Five over to the part of the solar system currently occupied by his youngest sibling.

xoxoxox

Once in range of the asteroid and it’s now failed mining operation John donned his exosuit and exited Thunderbird Five. The rock was bleak and the facilities on it were uninviting. Thunderbird Three stood near the drilling base, cold and still. Her striking red hull providing the only splash of colour in that grim landscape.

He cautiously entered the complex and headed for the drill rig where the vital signs monitor was registering the presence of a brother who was thankfully still alive. All caution was abandoned and John broke into as much of a run as the exosuit would allow when he spied the blue suited figure on the floor.

“You…came.”

“I promised I would.”

“Gonna…need…new…suit.”

John took in the damage to the armour plating and inwardly winced. The whole of Alan’s left side was now a concave hollow. Broken ribs were a given and the shallow, laboured breathing suggested a punctured lung too.

“Don’t try to talk. You can put your uniform order in to Scott when we get home.”

Speaking of getting home that was going to be easier said than done. Moving Alan was going to be a painful business and his condition suggested that a transfer to Thunderbird Five would be too risky.

A new voice over the comms intruded on his thought.

“John, status report.”

Big brother, his own rescue on Earth now concluded, had evidently been appraised of the situation by Eos.

“I’m with Alan now. He’s…” John racked his brains for the right way to phrase things. He wanted to be honest but he also knew Alan could hear every word he was saying. “He’s taken a significant impact but he’s conscious and responding well.”

“Hey…Scott…I’m…a…tough…nut…to…crack.”

“You sure are, kid.”

“I’m going to bring him home. The sooner he gets medical attention the better.”

“Five then the space elevator?”

“No, the med-bed on Three will be more comfortable.”

“Hmm. When was the last time you flew Three?”

“Simulated or solid state?” This was the last thing he needed. Alan had enough to worry about without doubts being cast on his piloting abilities. “Look Scott. Trust me on this.”

“Not…leaving…my…rocket…behind.”

John couldn’t help but smile.

“See, even Alan agrees. I’ll see you back at base. You can prepare the infirmary.”

“FAB”

John cut the connection to Tracy Island and instructed Eos to keep that line as receive only. He didn’t want to shut Scott out completely but transferring Alan was going to be a painful business. Without knowing the state of his lungs John didn’t want to risk administering the wrong dose of painkiller and he didn’t want the inevitable cries from Alan being broadcast to an already worried smother hen.

“Time to get moving kid. Now I’m really sorry but this is going to hurt.”

Alan gave a slight nod of acknowledgement and gritted his teeth for the inevitable.

The choked back whimper as Alan was lifted into a bridal hold cut John to the core. The kid was being so damn brave.

It was time to complete the painful journey back to Earth.

xoxoxox

The damaged chest plate lay discarded at the side of the infirmary. The misshapen armour a chilling reminder of the dangers they faced every time they launched.

John ran his fingers through his youngest brother’s hair in a soft caress. It was about the only part of the young astronaut that wasn’t bruised, thanks to his helmet which he had wisely kept on while on the asteroid. Eyes flickered open at the touch.

“See…” The voice was still breathy and strained. “Tough…nut…to…crack.”

The damage scans and x-rays had revealed three broken ribs and a lung that was partially collapsed but thankfully not punctured. He would heal in time but it could easily have been a lot worse. John made a mental note to personally thank Brains for designing Alan’s uniform with such tough shielding. He also made a note to throw the book at the drill operators; the whole set-up had been a disaster waiting to happen with corners cut and rules broken at every opportunity. The company wouldn’t be operating in space for a very long time once he and Eos had finished.

He became aware of Scott hovering in the doorway.

“Eos had returned Five to low Earth orbit. She’s back in place over the island.”

John gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement. He knew there was no longer a need for him to stay Earth-side; Alan was out of danger and would be well looked after by his terrestrial siblings. He didn’t move away from the bed.

“You did good out there, John.”

A slight shrug. He shouldn’t have been out there at all. On days like this he wondered whether Alan should be out there either. Wondered why they had launched a child into such a dangerous role. Was it selfish of them? Did they expect too much? The doubts always came crowding in when one of them got hurt. His job was to monitor and assess after all.

With a final run of his fingers through Alan’s hair and a “See ya, Al. Don’t make me come fetch you again” John turned and headed back to his habitual home.

xoxoxox

The ride back up to Thunderbird Five was a silent affair. Eos, now better attuned to his moods, correctly surmised that he needed to be left alone. Only once he was back inside the station did he briefly acknowledge her.

“Eos, turn on the gravity ring.”

It was an unusual request for him and one that betrayed his current depth of emotion. John was generally most comfortable in microgravity but in some circumstances gravity was necessary.

He had to write and submit his report on the mission but first he had to write his other report. The one that would never be uploaded to the servers. His own private record of events that dealt in more than just the facts of the matter.

Reaching the sanctuary of his room he withdrew the notebook and pen from their concealed spot.

The book was a thing of beauty. Heavy, slightly creamy pages encased in soft calfskin; the leather a deep midnight blue. Each page unmarred by lines. A special commission to his exact specifications. For a man so immersed in the digital world a notebook seemed an odd luxury to choose. After all, paper was expensive; an environmentally unsound product that had all but been phased out. But the physicality of a book was sometimes necessary. Hard evidence. A disconnected node in an interconnected world.

The pen was perfectly weighted. A sleek, undecorated tube of brushed titanium that was simultaneously both functional and elegant.. The ink flowed in in a smooth stream, pouring out his soul in blue blood across the page. Each letter was perfectly formed, each word a thing of beauty. The precision with which John lived all aspects of his life was evident in this act of meditation. Line after line of fear and anger appeared across the paper filling the sheets in calligraphic hurt.

Not every mission warrants an entry, only those that he knows will haunt his dreams and leave him doubting the wisdom of their cause. The close calls. The near-misses. The times when he realises just how far away he is from those he holds dear. This is his therapy. The book playing counsellor to his troubled soul with utmost confidentiality.

Only when the turmoil is quelled, the ink as dry as the tear tracks on his cheeks, does he replace volume. A secret testimony to the sacrifices made for the world by a few individuals who shared their love and care around the whole planet and beyond.

#fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2020 #John Tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

Text

Johnny (Cowboy Minotaur) Pt. 2

Rating: Lemon Relationship: Male Human/Male Minotaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Reader-Insert, Monster Lover, Interspecies Relationship, Male Reader, Male Monster, Gay Reader, Gay Monster, Post Gold Rush, 1860's California, Cowboys, Cowboy Minotaur Content Warnings: Gun Violence, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Handcuff Bondage, Cumflation Words: 3798

The conclusion to @severedreamerbeard ‘s commission! Randall puts pressure on Johnny, so the reader decides to do something about it, only to be injured while protecting Johnny. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The next few weeks were unremarkable. The town was small and most folks were mild-mannered. The only place that seemed to have any trouble was the saloon, and Bláithín was more than capable of handling most scrapes that went on there herself. She came in to the jailhouse once or twice, dragging an unconscious drunk behind her while you and Johnny were playing blackjack for peanuts and pennies.

You and Johnny often ate your meals at the saloon, though Uncle George invited you, Johnny, and Judge Jones over for dinner once a week. He liked to cook, but in such a small town, he rarely had anyone to cook for.

All through this time, you’re trying not to think about whether or not Johnny was like you. If you told him and he wasn’t, he could arrest you and send you to the Sacramento big house for indecency. And if he was… what? You had to admit to yourself that you liked him rather much, but it wasn’t as if you could have any sort of relationship with him that was anything more than professional. In the city, people didn’t care about other people, but in small towns, people talked. You knew if you gave in and he reciprocated, people would talk. Johnny hadn’t been here much longer than you, but the people of Redington already respected and admired him. You didn’t want to strip him of his job, home, and dignity because you had feelings.

One afternoon, as you and Johnny were talking with Bláithín about her recent stolen packages, Randall came into the saloon followed his entire entourage, with Lloyd at his left elbow. The entire room went silent and a few of the bar’s patrons hastily threw down money and left. Bláithín stood as straight as her packhorse body would allow and both you and Johnny stiffened.

“Relax,” Randall said, holding up his hands in placation. “We ain’t here to start trouble. We just want some grub and a drink. That against the law now?”

“Bláithín?” Johnny asked.

“I haven’t ever officially barred them from entering, and as long as their payin’, I suppose there’s no harm,” She said slowly.

“Maybe we’ll stick around for a bit,” Johnny told her in an undertone.

“I’d appreciate that, sheriff,” She replied.

The boys settled around the saloon, ordering food and drink and being rowdy, but not so much that it would require tossing them out.

“Hey, sheriff!” Randall shouted over his buddies. He’d been watching the two of us whisper to each other. “You done breakin’ in that new deputy? Workin’ him hard, I bet.”

Johnny snorted, but you said in a whisper, “They want to rile you up. Don’t rise to the bait.”

Lloyd piped up next. “Yeah, I bet he’s so sore from his ‘job’ that he can’t hardly sit down.”

His men laughed uproariously.

“Johnny,” You asked him as you felt him getting more and more tense next to you. “We both know they’re criminals. Why haven’t they been run off or arrested before now?”

Johnny huffed in exasperation. “They’re careful about it. They do most of their… work… outside of the town limits, which means it’s outside of my jurisdiction. What happens out in the desert beyond the town’s boundaries is fair game. There’s no witnesses, so there’s no crime. My hands are tied unless they do something illegal within the town’s borders.”

“What would be enough to get them sent away for good?”

“Burglary, robbery… nothin’ good,” He said, eyeing the group as they howled with laughter.

You thought about what Johnny had said when you first got to town: He loves any chance to prove he’s the biggest swingin’ dick on this side of the tracks. “What about assault on a lawman?” You asked on a low voice.

Johnny frowned. “What’re you--”

“You know, Randall,” You said loudly, pushing yourself off of where you’d been leaning on the bar and advanced slowly. “You want to know what I think? Why you like pokin’ at Johnny so much?”

“Oh, do enlighten me,” Randall said in an amused tone.

“You’re jealous,” You told him simply. “Johnny’s got everything you want. Respect, money, integrity…” You looked Randall up and down. “Height. Looks. Brains. A backbone.”

Randall’s smile changed to a scowl in half a heartbeat. “That prissy dickweed has nothing on me.”

“If you mean smell, you’re exactly right,” You said, holding your nose. “Are you like an actual cow and roll in your own dung? That’s the only reason I can think of that you’d smell so bad all the time.”

Randall stood so fast that his chair flew back. His entourage also shot to their feet, their hands going to their gun belts.

“You’re either as stupid as you look or tryin’ to get your ass beat,” Randall said.

“That’s fair, I do have a hitable face,” You said.

“Kid, stop it,” Johnny said, grabbing your arm.

“Gotta protect your little boy toy, don’t you sheriff?” Randall said, cackling.

“What’s a-matter, Randall?” I shot back. “Mad he won’t take you back?”

That’s what did it. Randall cracked you across the face. You were prepared for it, but he hit hard and you stumbled back into Johnny, who caught you and pushed you back onto your feet.

“That’s enough!” Johnny said. “Randall, you’re under arrest!”

“Like hell I am!” Randall said, drawing his gun. He pointed it right at Johnny.

“Look out!” You couldn’t push Johnny out of the way, he was too large. But you cold jump in front of him. The bullet was aimed at Johnny’s ribcage, but it managed to hit you squarely in the shoulder. It was enough to rattle the bones in your arm and you cried out in pain.

Johnny bellowed in rage and jumped into action, delivering a blow to Randall’s stomach that sent him sprawling, his gun skittering across the floor. Lloyd tried to retrieve it, but Bláithín stood there with her rifle, aimed at his head.

“Wouldn’t be doing that, if I were you, bucko,” She said. Two more of his gang rushed her, guns in hand, and she twirled with incredible agility and kicked them both hard in the knees. The snapping sound echoed throughout the saloon, and they went down screaming. The other four shot out of the saloon, into the street. Bláithín went out to follow them, but you stopped her.

“Leave ‘em,” You gasped, getting up off the floor, gun in hand. “They ain’t actually done anything. These four are the ones we want to worry about.”

Johnny was on the ground over Randall, pummeling him into the floorboards. You grabbed his arm as he was going down for another blow.

“He’s out, John!” You said. Johnny was breathing heavily and stared at you, his pupils pinpricks and hyperfocused, but he stopped and got up, breathing as though he’d run to the coast and back.

Bláithín was holding Lloyd at gunpoint. “These four inna going nowhere, John, but we need the surgeon. Run an’ get ‘im.”

Johnny stared at you for a moment longer, then obeyed.

Getting the bullet out of your shoulder was more painful than it going in, but there was no permanent damage. Johnny was at the other end of the infirmary, securing the other prisoners. He glanced back at you occasionally, as if making sure you were still there, although you were going to be in that bed for a day or two to make sure the wound didn’t open up or get an infection.

Uncle George and Judge Jones arrived shortly after, talking with Johnny in hushed tones. Jones and Johnny went off to another room while Uncle George came to sit on the cot next to you.

“That was a risky gamble, son,” He said, although he couldn’t bring himself to sound too annoyed at you.

“Ain’t this why you brought me out here?” You asked, a little woozy from the whiskey they’d made you drink before taking out the bullet. “To get rid of Randall?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t expect you to get yourself shot!” He said, his annoyance bubbling to the surface.

“He was aimin’ for Johnny,” You said seriously. “A gutshot in that big guy would have been fatal.”

“Hmph,” Uncle George said. “Well, you’re not staying here with these hooligans. You’ll be staying with me till you’re patched up. Johnny’s gonna have to make a trip to Sacramento to bring back deputies from the big house to transport Randall and his men back that way. He’ll be gone about two weeks.”

Your heart sank a little, but you kept your face neutral.

“What about the four of Randall’s crew that got away?” You asked.

“Scattered like cockroaches after their leader got caught,” George said. “Just as well. They hadn’t actually committed a crime, they were just present when a crime was committed. Perhaps now they’ll move on and pester someone else.”

“Hmm,” You hummed. “Will the town be alright without a sheriff? I mean, with Johnny gone and me laid up?”

“Bláithín’s takin’ up the reins, so to speak, until John returns. She’s a capable woman.”

“I believe that,” You said, laying back with a tired sigh. “I think I might get some shut-eye, Uncle, if’n thats alright?”

“Sure thing, son,” He said, standing. “Got some paperwork to do, as it is. You rest easy. I’ll have you moved to my house tomorrow morning.”

You fell into a sodden slumber, feeling heavy. Later, you were awoken in the dark by a gentle shake.

“Wake up, deputy,” You heard a gravelly voice say softly.

“Johnny?” You asked, groggy and unable to see much in the dark.

“Yeah, it’s me,” He said. “I’m leavin’ out tonight. I want to get there and back as quick as possible, but… I… I wanted to thank you. For takin’ that bullet for me.”

“I’d do it again, John,” You said, still half asleep. “I’d do it a thousand times.”

You closed your eyes again, and there was silence. Perhaps he thought you’d fallen asleep again. You felt his hand take yours and hold it, gently caressing the knuckles. Your heart thumped when he pressed a kiss to it, but when you opened your eyes, he had dropped you hand and you could hear him hurrying out of the building.

You’re uncle had said it would take two weeks for Johnny to get to Sacramento and back, but he managed the trip in half the time. He was dusty and looked a bit thinner; it looked like he’d barely taken a rest the whole time.

By the time he got back, you were on your feet again and had taken back the job of deputy from Bláithín, though your arm was still in a sling. She gratefully relinquished it, though the town had been quiet with the offenders finally caught and out of the way.

“Welcome back, sheriff,” You said brightly as he leapt off his horse.

“Thanks,” He said. “How you holdin’ up?”

“My arm’s still stickin’, so I’m all good,” You said, wiggling your arm in it’s sling.

Johnny nodded, satisfied. “The boys from Sacramento are about an hour behind me. They’re at the train station, getting a bite to eat.”

“Have you eaten?” You asked him. He shook his head. “Come on, then. I’m buyin’.”

“Nah, kid. You don’t pay for nothin’ when your with me anymore,” He said, smiling at you. It was the first actual, honest-to-god smile you’d ever seen on his face. It completely changed it, lighting it up and making him look…

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time.

After you’d eaten, the deputies arrived. You followed Johnny into the jailhouse. As soon as Randall saw the deputies, he started screeching.

“They provoked me! Him especially!” He said, pointing at you.

One of the deputies banged the bars of the cell with his baton. “Hush up!”

“What about him then?” Randall asked, pointing at Johnny, his voice more menacing. “There are some things about him you’d probably like to know.”

“And how exactly do you know those things, Randall?” You asked him dangerously, getting in his face though the bars separated you. “How exactly do you know?”

Randall shut his mouth tight and glared at you.

“You said you had something to declare?” The prison deputy asked.

Randall’s jaw worked and he looked at you with pure venom.

“...no. No, I don’t.”

“Fine. Time to get moving,” the deputy said. Randall, Lloyd, and the other two of the gang were loaded into a barred paddy-wagon.

As they moved off, Johnny said, “Can’t say I’m sorry to see the back of ‘em.”

“You said it,” You said, massaging your shoulder a bit.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not much.”

He snorted. “Quit tryin’ to be a hard ass. When’s the last time the bandage was changed?”

“Couple days.”

“It’s due, then. Come on, I’ll take care of it,” he said, walking back to the jailhouse. You follow.

He sat you down at the table and got a box from the bunkhouse.

“Take off your shirt,” He said.

Your heart threw itself into your throat, but you complied, carefully pulling your arm out of it’s sling and tugging the sleeve off.

“Lay your arm on the table and get comfy,” He said, pulling out strips of cloth and some salve.

He was inches away from you, and you could smell him. He smelled earthy and reminded you of home. Comfy was the last place you could be right now. Your heart was hammering.

He carefully peeled the old bandage off and inspected the skin, checking for infection. He was gentle. You could feel his breath on your bare chest and it was all you could do to hold still and not reach out for him. He gently worked the salve into your skin without hurting you much and re-wrapped the wound.

“...uh…” He started diffidently. He was purposefully not looking you in the eye. “Thanks… for pipin’ up for me. I don’t know… what you know… or… but…”

“John,” You said seriously. “Look at me.”

He looked up, his face stern and closed, but his eyes showed his true self. You bent forward and kissed him. He pushed you back immediately. At first, you were scared you misjudged him, but he was looking at you wonderingly.

“You… you’re…”

You nodded. “I’ve been holdin’ back because I didn’t want to cause you trouble… but… God, Johnny…” You rushed forward again and kissed him, harder this time, and he didn’t pull away. If fact, he gripped you tightly, causing you to yelp in pain from your shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said, letting you go at once.

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine.” You got up and bolted the door of the jailhouse. “Is this alright?”

He nodded, breathing hard and standing. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off as you unbuckled your belt one-handed.

“Are you sure?” Johnny asked, shedding clothes.

“Yes,” You said, pulling him down by the chin to kiss him again. His hands found your buttocks and lifted you so that your legs were wrapped around him. He swept off the desk and laid you down on your back, pulling your boots and trousers off. He reached over you, bending so that his body was flush with yours, and pulled open a draw on the desk. When he drew back, he was holding the bottle of oil that he used for sore muscles.

He put some on his fingers and rubbed it against your entrance, and you moaned. He worked the oil in while kissing you, eventually inserting one finger, then two, then three. His fingers weren’t exactly small, and the stretch felt amazing.

He moved you so that you were laying lengthways on the desk and reached back into the draw, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He pushed the desk closer to the cell and took your hands, carefully lifting your arms up and cuffed them to the cell.

“Don’t move around too much,” He said as he climbed onto the desk between your legs. “Don’t want to reopen that wound.”

You nodded, breathless at the sight of him. His length had slipped out of it’s sheath and was standing at attention, brown and black like the rest of his body with a flat head. Johnny covered it in oil and rubbed it in,

“Ready?” He asked.

“It’s been a while,” You admitted. “I’m more than ready.”

“I can guarantee it’s been longer for me,” He said, chuckling, as he pushed himself slowly into you. You groaned with the sensation, your head falling back against the desk.

He took your knees in his hands and pushed them back against your chest and buried himself as deeply as he could go. Looking up, you saw a bulge in your belly were he had planted himself. He moaned as he slowly pulled back out and pushed in again, the bulge disappearing and reappearing with each thrust. Once he was confident he wasn’t hurting you, he sped up and you gasped. Your own member was bobbing and twitching against your stomach, and instead of grasping it, he reached underneath and rubbed his fingers over your sack, massaging the skin and making you cry out. You muted your noise, though, fearful that others would hear.

“Fuck,” He breathed, leaning forward on his hands and speeding up. You could feel him twitching inside you, and he had trapped your cock between your stomachs, so as he thrust, he was rubbing it between the two of you.

“Oh, God, Johnny,” You gasped. You could feel yourself getting close, the friction of his skin against your length and the feeling of him working his against the nerves inside you made you feel like you were going to explode. Your body tensed as you came, spraying against you and him as he continued to move at a frenetic pace. The tension caused a little bit of pain in your shoulder, but you barely noticed it.

He reared up and grasped your hips, ramming into you with a fierce intensity until he came as well, filling you so full that your belly pooched again with the sheer amount he released into you.

He slowed to a stop, still inside you, and rested on his knuckles, wheezing.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, struggling to get his breath back.

“No, I’m alright,” You replied, just as breathless.

After some time, he uncuffed you and helped you down off of the desk, and the two of you cleaned yourselves up and dressed without speaking. Sitting back down at the table, you reached out for his hand.

“I know your worried about people finding out about… us… what we are…” You said. “But… I like you, John. I don’t want to stop this.”

“I don’t either,” he said with a worried frown, gripping your fingers tightly.

“I…” You gulped. “I could… I could talk to my uncle.”

“What?” Johnny said. “No, don’t! No one can know about this.”

“I won’t tell him about you,” You assured him. “I’ll tell him about me. Uncle George has been more of a father to me than my own father. If anyone would understand, he would. And even if he doesn’t, he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re absolutely sure of that?”

“Yes,” You said, squeezing his hand. “Trust me.”

Johnny regarded you with a grim expression, but nodded.

That night, you stopped at your uncle’s house unannounced, which you had never done before, though the invitation had always been there.

“My boy!” Your uncle said, hugging you when he opened the door. “Good to see you up and about. What brings you by?”

“Actually, Uncle George, there’s somethin’ I need to talk to you about.”

“Well, this sounds serious,” He said, stepping back so that you could come in. “Maybe we could talk about it over a brandy?”

“That’d be nice, Uncle, thank you.”

He took you to his lounge and pulled a decanter from a shelf. “So what has you looking so dour, son?”

You took a glass and sucked in a deep breath. “Did you and my pa ever have a talk about me bein’… different?”

“Not as such,” George said, sitting in a chair opposite you. “Though my brother and I don’t see eye to eye on many things, so his definition of ‘different’ may not be the same as mine.”

You sighed. “Honestly, Uncle… I’ve always wanted to be open about this, especially with my family, but Ma and Pa beat into me that I… wasn’t right.”

“Not right how?”

Moment of truth. “I… You… You must be wonderin’ why I never had a sweetheart or been interested in marryin’. Truth is… I actually would like to be married… just… not to a woman.”

“...I see,” You uncle said slowly. You winced at his distant tone.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Uncle,” you said sadly.

“Young man,” He said. “You haven’t disappointed me.”

You looked up. “I haven’t?”

He shook his head firmly. “No, my boy.” He took a swig from his own glass. “You know, Herbert and I went to college together. We’ve been very close friends ever since. He lived in New York, but he came out here with me to be the judge. Did you know that?”

“No, sir?” You asked, confused by the question.

“Jones and I never married or had sweethearts, either, but our positions put us beyond reproach. People gossiped, of course, but we were members of high society. We had enough power to quash most of it.”

Your jaw dropped. “You… is that why Pa never invited you to the farm? I thought it was because he resented you for being rich.”

George laughed sharply. “That was certainly part of it.” He clapped you on your good shoulder. “Look, son, don’t worry. We still have to be careful, but Herb and I started this town to be a safe place for good people. You’re a good man.” He took another sip. “And so is Johnny.”

Your heartbeat hitched up. “Yes, he is.”

“More to the point, he’s safe. You make sure he knows that.”

You smiled and relaxed, sitting back in the armchair. “I will, Uncle.”

After talking with George, you went back to the jailhouse. Johnny was sleeping when you came in, and you slithered into bed with him. The beds were a little narrow, but you made it work. He snorted awake.

“Did you talk to your uncle?” He asked, cuddling you into his side.

“I did,” You said with a smile, kissing him softly. “It’s alright, Johnny. Everything’s alright.”

He sighed and threw the blanket over you. At ease, the two of you slept.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Minotaur #Cowboy Minotaur #Male Reader #Male Reader Insert #Reader Insert #MLM #1860's California #Post Gold Rush #Gold Rush #Interspecies Romance #My Writing #Commission

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bakudekuficlibrary · 5 years

Note

Can you recommend any fics with hurt Bakugou and protective Deku?

Here are some I was able to find. Hope you like them!

- Fi

12 Works.

This Is Okay by Kaiwen ( Not Rated | 4,982 | 1/1 )

It happened again. Same as it had the last two nights

I tried to stop him. I really did. But it didn’t matter, because he leaned forward off the roof.

And he fell.

And I fucking screamed.

And he fucking died.

And I could do nothing but crumple to my knees, sobbing.

He dreams of Deku’s death as if it happened. Two nights in a row and he does nothing. But he always heard that if it happened a third, then it would be real…

Worse Than Quirkless by AbbyStaffyIsGeek ( T | 5,779+ | 2/? )

As a child, Katsuki Bakugou had dreamt of becoming a hero greater than All Might, but when his quirk appears such ideas are lost. Instead he must live life scorned and hurt by a society that values powerful quirks above all else, struggling to reach his new goals.

Izuku Midoriya, however, inherited a powerful ability from his parents, and can reach his dream of becoming a hero like his idol… Whilst keeping an eye on his best friend along the way.

Hearse by Yousayhun ( M | 4,694 | 1/1 )

I will never go backwardsI will never be freeI will never run fasterWill you sink down to me?I will never go backwardsI will never be seenIn the wake of disaster, will you sink down to me?

Or the one where Bakugo-kun is seriously sad and Izuku is a ghost.

[ Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Major Character Death ]

Standing at Ground Zero by LadyGreenFrisbee ( M | 11382+ | 4/? )

“No one’s coming for you, Katsuki.”

And that, he thinks in between his attempts to breathe, is the greatest truth of all.

(It doesn’t mean he can’t do it alone.)

Unseemly Beasts by MissLightBright ( T | 35,659+ | 16/? )

Dragons. Destructive beasts tearing through everything in their path and deadly to anyone who opposes them. Midoriya has never seen a dragon, never planned to, but now he needs the help of one. He just… didn’t want to kill one. Not if he could help it.

[ Graphic Depictions Of Violence ]

(may the bridges i have burned) light my way back home by Chrome ( T | 9,115+ | 2/10 )

Since Bakugou Katsuki discovered the secret of One for All, he and Midoriya Izuku have been slowly repairing the friendship they once had. They still haven’t talked about it—but Izuku’s certain that it’s only a matter of time before they manage to lay the past to rest.

But when the League of Villains attack the Sports Festival and Bakugou takes a devastating blow meant for Izuku, the whole nation is suddenly paying attention to a relationship the two people involved barely understand. Izuku needs more than ever to figure out who he and Kacchan are to each other—preferably before the internet does.

or,

“Fuck you,” Bakugou said. “I don’t need a whole face to kick your ass.”

Humerus Reunion by Trashtron ( T | 6,337+ | 4/? )

Katsuki ends up in the hospital (again) which isn’t too out of the ordinary in his line of work as pro hero Ground Zero. All would have been fine if he hadn’t opened his eyes and met with forest green ones peering back. It had been 10 years since he’d seen those damn emerald whirlpools swimming with tears. Turning away from a scene permanently ingrained into his memory he left for UA, never looking back. A build up of regret, damaged pride and pining come rising the surface in a single instance.

This universe is about how Izuku never gets One For All but decides to help save lives as a nurse instead! 26 year old #1 pro hero Ground Zero is injured in a battle he can’t remember and is admitted to Shizuoka Hospital where Izuku works.

Through Your Eyes by KingHugin ( G | 4,137 | 1/1 )

Maybe this Android thing wasn’t so bad after all, and maybe his change of views had nothing to do with a certain Android who had more humanity then most humans.

A little Android one shot because i played Detroit: become human way to much.

rest ye merry (until you wake) by stardreamertwo ( T | 3,462 | 1/1 )

Christmas is coming and Katuski’s in the hospital. Izuku’s trying to understand.

let our proud fossils prove who we were by shousanki ( T | 2,622 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does not die. He does not kind-of propose to Izuku while in the throes of near-death delirium either. And they are not talking.

SeriesPart 2 of 青春ノンストップーSpring Bakudeku Week 2018ー

Fix Me by goateyes ( E | 8,091+ | 3/? )

After an important mission goes south Bakugo finds himself in the hospital suffering from a severe injury. His agency forces him to go to physical therapy where he meets his therapist Midoriya, love (and chaos) ensues.

[ Graphic Depictions Of Violence ]

The Shrinekeeper and the Harvest God by bkdkwritingsdump ( M | 30,148 | 18/18 )

Izuku keeps the shrine of the harvest god, a minor god mostly worshiped by farmers and ignored by everyone else until the yearly harvest festival. During a spring thunderstorm one year, a mysterious man named Katsuki shows up at his shrine seeking shelter from the rain, but ends up over staying his welcome by a few months. In that time, Izuku not only begins to become suspicious of his identity, but finds himself longing for something more between them.

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priorsmicah · 4 years

Text

WHEN: December 5th, 2019 WHERE: Sydney’s apartment (sorry, Syd) WHO: @sfitzpatrick & Micah WHAT: Micah finds out Caine beat up Sean and goes to him.

MICAH. This wasn’t at all the way she wanted her reunion with Sean to go, Micah thought as she rushed up the stairs to Sydney’s apartment. To say she freaked out on Caine after she heard of his encounter with Sean. Never in her life had she screamed at someone so loudly. She rushed out too quickly for her to actually calm down and think about his actions rationally, but they were far from done with this whole situation. She knew he’d done it for her, to protect her from more hurt, but violence just wasn’t how she wanted this situation handled. Especially not violence directed at Sean of all people. No matter what happened between them, the last thing she wanted was for him to hurt. With all that in mind, she showed up to his current residence’s front door out of breath and overwhelmed with worry and leftover anger from her argument with her brother. She gasped as the door opened to reveal Sean and his roughed-up face. Her hand flew to her mouth to hide her wince while her other hand reached out to graze his bruised cheek. “Oh my god, look at you,” she said, guilt obvious on her features. This was all her fault, there was literally no other way to put it. She should’ve made it clear to Caine that this wasn’t what she wanted, even though she thought she had at the Copper Penny that day. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t ask him to do that, I promise. I’m always telling him beating people up solves absolutely nothing.” She dropped her hand, suddenly self-conscious to be touching him so intimately after ignoring him for months. “Hi.”

SEAN. No matter how much part of Sean felt as though he’d deserved the facedown with Caine, he couldn’t deny it was more than a little painful now, when the bruises had begun to bloom across his face and he felt achy no matter how carefully he moved. But it wasn’t just his body that was moving slow; his mind was, too, because the last person he expected when he hobbled to the door and opened it, was Micah. He he’d been starting to wonder whether he’d ever actually hear from her, and to have her show up now was more than he expected. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t help it; he couldn’t quite believe Micah was really there, that she was real. Her jacket somewhat crooked, as though she’d pulled it on in a hurry; her hair full of flyaways; and she’d never looked as beautiful as she did right then. Then her hand cupped his cheek, and he sucked in a breath, covering her hand with his. “I’m okay,” he said quietly, meaning it, because even though he was clearly injured, with Micah standing in front of him, he couldn’t think of anything but her. “I know— I know you didn’t.” He knew her; knew she didn’t want someone else fighting her battles, even her brother, but especially literally fighting them. “This?” he released her hand so he would wave at his face. “This ain’t on you. Nobody was gonna stop your brother.” And being an older brother himself, Sean couldn’t say he really blamed Caine, either. “Hi,” he repeated, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “You look good, Micah.”

MICAH. Micah hadn’t even considered how she might look after rushing out of Caine’s apartment like she did. She hadn’t showered this morning and had put on the first coat she saw on her way out. The way Sean’s mouth hung open at the sight of her, however, she knew it couldn’t be a pretty sight. She shook her head as he assured her he was alright, knowing he wouldn’t tell her the truth even if he felt he needed to go to the ER right this second. “You don’t look okay,” she insisted, her touch gentle as if she was afraid to break him. “You look like you got run over by a truck. The truck being Caine in this scenario, I guess.” Her guilt didn’t ease despite his best effort. “It is. It never would’ve happened if I hadn’t told him what happened. I should’ve known this would be the first thing he’d do if he ran into you,” she said with a sigh, averting her gaze so he wouldn’t see the shame there. His compliment brought a smile to her lips and reminded her she hadn’t even brushed her hair before leaving the apartment. She ran her fingers through the strands self-consciously, attempting to flatten it slightly. “We both know that’s a lie. This is not what I wanted to look like when I saw you again. I was going to get all dressed up to really make you regret… You know.”

SEAN. “I’ll heal,” he said dismissively. Having a paramedic for a sister had its perks, particularly when you didn’t want to make a fuss about the fact that you’d gotten beaten up. “Syd checked me out, I’m still in one piece. It looks worse than it feels, promise.” That was less than true, he was sure; in a few days, when the bruises turned a rainbow of colours it might be so, but for now? Now, the hurts were a little too tender, a little too fresh. Still, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her analogy; if he was being totally honest, he might admit that his run-in with Caine felt a little bit like what he imagined being run over by a truck did. At least it was just physical injuries, and he didn’t have an accompanying hangover. “So you shoulda kept this from your brother?” Sean asked, brows raised. She had every right to tell the people who mattered to her what he’d done, he knew, and even more than that, he had no desire to be the reason any more distance grew between the siblings than what existed there already. “You deserve to be able to tell him stuff.” And he could handle, or at least survive, everything Caine had flung his way. Besides, Micah was worth it; she was more than worth it. He ached to reach out, to lift her chin so she looked him in the eye, but her hand dropping from his face had reminded him, forcibly, that despite everything he felt, despite the conversation they’d started over the phone, Micah had asked for space. Had asked that they talk. “I ain’t lying,” he said sincerely. “You look good.” As she went on, though, he shook his head. “And you don’t have to dress up to make me regret what I did. I do that every day.”

MICAH. “Somehow that does very little to ease my mind,” she told him with a weak smile, her eyes scanning the many bruises on his face. Lucky for him, he had Sydney around to take care of him, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was the one who should’ve been there. Even now, she had to fight the urge to march into Syd’s kitchen to fetch some ice. “Regardless, I’m so sorry about all this. If it makes you feel any better, I yelled at him more loudly than I’ve ever yelled at anyone.” Caine was already forgiven, and Sean probably knew that, but that didn’t mean he was done hearing about it. Despite his questionable methods, Micah had no doubt that Caine had done what he did because he loved her in his own, weird way. “If I hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t be looking like…this right now. Although, you kind of pull it off somehow,” she admitted, risking a glance at him. Despite everything, she still found herself pulled towards him and fighting the urge to reach out to him. She kept needing to remind herself that she was here to talk. “Still, I’m so sorry. Please tell me your sister doesn’t hate me.” Sean was as biased as ever, but she still forced herself to look up at him after he insisted she didn’t look as bad as she imagined. “I’m sorry it took me so long to show up. I just needed time to think about everything,” she explained, although that wasn’t all she was doing. “I was also trying to get over you. I think you can tell that didn’t work out so well.”

SEAN. “It should,” Sean softly. “I’ll be good as new before you know it.” Her brother hadn’t managed to do any permanent damage, ultimately. “And I promise, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. Seriously, Micah.” It warmed his heart that she was so concerned, but he hated to see her so patently guilty when really, he was the guilty party. Because if he hadn’t fucked up, if he hadn’t hurt Micah, then none of the rest of it would’ve happened. Still, he chuckled weakly as she went on. “You know, that does make me feel a little better. Though I kinda wish I’d been a fly on the wall for that one.” Truthfully, as dramatic as he’d seen her be on occasion, he couldn’t imagine her as much of a yeller — she hadn’t yelled at him that night on the beach, and he’d absolutely deserved it, far more than her brother did. “And if I hadn’t hurt you in the first place, I wouldn’t look like this, either,” he countered, giving voice to his earlier thoughts. A pleased flush rose in his cheeks at her compliment, and he couldn’t deny the hope he found in it. “Thanks. I, uh, well, I hope it doesn’t become a regular thing, though.” Because even if he did ‘pull off’ the barely-survived-getting-beat-up look, he’d much rather never sport it again; it wasn’t worth the worry laced in Micah’s expression. “You really think you’re the one Syd hates in this situation? No. No, come on. Not even a little.” Maybe he shouldn’t be speaking for his sister, but the last thing he wanted was to add to the worry Micah was feeling. He sighed at her apology, shaking his head. “I didn’t know if you were gonna call, or if I shoulda called, or-” It seemed communication had failed them, once again. And he didn’t know what to say to the rest of it. That she had been trying to get over him. That she hadn’t been able to. His heart was pounding in his chest, uneven beats. “Let’s- Do you wanna come in?”

MICAH. “I hope so. Can’t have you looking like this for the holidays. Your mother hasn’t seen you yet, has she?” She asked, her worry obvious. Sydney might not hate her for this, but she was scared his mother might not be so rational about the whole thing. Also, she kind of feared for Caine’s safety if she were to find out about it. “So, you keep saying. I still feel bad, though.” Micah, on the other hand, was very pleased that he hadn’t seen her little outburst. It wasn’t something she wanted him to ever witness—the whole thing was just very unlike her. “You really don’t, trust me. It was all very dramatic. He’s lucky he’s the only family I have.” He was also the only person she would ever feel comfortable enough to yell at, which was weirdly a sign that things had gotten significantly better between the siblings. “Not every girl’s brother would do this when their little sister is wronged,” she pointed out, the corner of her lips lifting slightly. Not every broken-hearted girl had a brother in a motorcycle club what was she really meant. “It won’t, if my brother knows what’s good for him.” The blonde exhaled sharply, relief washing over her. Sydney was one of her closest (and only) friends. Losing both Fitzpatrick siblings in one blow was something she didn’t even want to consider. “I think the ball was in my court. I’ve been putting it off. I guess I just didn’t know how to deal with all this,” she said with a deep sigh. She nodded when he offered that she come inside, the choice an easy one for once. If the time spent apart had told her anything, it was that these feelings weren’t going away on their own. “Yeah, I’d like that.” She walked past him into Syd’s apartment, shrugging off the coat that sat crooked on her shoulders.

SEAN. “No, Ma hasn’t seen me yet,” Sean admitted, his chuckle breaking off abruptly with a wince he tried to hide. It wouldn’t exactly help his argument that he was fine, or as good as, for Micah to see how much pain even laughing too hard caused him. “And I’ve been lyin’ low, so hopefully she hasn’t heard about it from someone else, either.” That surely wouldn’t help his goal of minimising his mother’s worry. There was something in Micah’s expression, though, that told him she wasn’t just asking because she knew his mother worried about him; there was another layer of concern in her gaze. And rather than trying to guess, he asked, “Why?” He shook his head; he knew he couldn’t stop Micah from feeling bad, even though he wanted to, and there were things he’d rather do than keep trying. “I do trust you, but—” he broke off with a shrug. Because even though he really did want to see it; want to see and know every side, every part of Micah, he couldn’t deny that maybe he didn’t have a right to that, any more. “You say that like I didn’t punch Reeves for what he did to Syd,” Sean said carefully. He certainly didn’t have the jacket Caine did; he’d even crossed it, in a way, going for Lucas as he had, but there was unquestionably a difference between the conversation he’d had with Lucas, and the one he’d had with Caine, and not just because the roles were reversed. Biting his lip to keep from suggesting that perhaps her brother didn’t know what was good for him, Sean shrugged; at this point, it wasn’t just Caine he was worried about. The rest of the club had no reason to be fond of him, either, and more than one reason to feel the opposite, in fact. “I get that.” And he did; despite the advice he’d gotten from all sides, he still didn’t know how to deal with what he’d done, and the fact that he’d hurt Micah. The fact that he’d been too blind to see how much he loved her. Stepping away from the door slightly so she could get past him, Sean closed the door behind her, hoping she wouldn’t notice how slowly he was moving. “You want anything to drink?”

MICAH. “Oh, good. That’s, yeah, good,” she said with a nod, trying to appear nonchalant. How could she explain to him that she was worried about his mother’s approval without also explaining why exactly his mother’s approval mattered at all. It would mean admitting that maybe she could see the two of them patching things up, that his mother’s opinion of her might change things in the long run. “I don’t want her to hate me. It’d make, you know, us trying again even harder than it probably already will be.” Did that mean she was giving him another chance? Probably—not that she had given it much more thought than that. She was so worried when she heard of what happened that she just ran here without giving much thought of what her showing up like this meant after everything. “But what? You want to see me attempting to look scary. I promise it’s not a very impressive sight.” She chuckled when she remembered Sean had done pretty much the same thing Caine had (on a different scale). “Fair enough. It looks like Caine did a bit more damage than the black eye you gave Lucas, though,” she pointed out, her knuckles brushing over his cheek once more. Never in her life had she felt so unsure of herself around Sean. She wanted to reach out like she usually did, to touch him. But that wasn’t quite appropriate anymore, was it? She kept fiddling with a loose thread on her jeans, anything to occupy her hands while he stood so close to her. “Hm, no. I’m okay for now. I should probably be sober for this. Unless you meant water. In which case, maybe I’ll have a glass.”

SEAN. “If the bruise doesn’t fade by Sunday-” And Sean wasn’t a complete idiot, he knew it wouldn’t, “-I’m kinda tempted to ask Syd to put concealer on it.” Except, of course, for the fact that lying, hiding things, it hadn’t served him well since coming home. Hadn’t served him well ever, actually, but this certainly wasn’t the time to start hiding things, particularly not from his family. Not even the things that would worry his mother, that might upset her. “She isn’t gonna—” Sean broke off, abruptly, as the rest of Micah’s statement sunk in. It had been one thing to have her answer the phone the month before, and even to have her show up now, when he was injured at her brother’s hand. It was another to have her say it so baldly: us trying again. And not as a possibility, but as an eventuality. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed. “You think it’d be hard? To try—” He didn’t want to say again, because before, he hadn’t been trying, not really, not the way Micah deserved. “Yeah, I do,” he confirmed with a smile. Funny how she knew him so well, even after everything. “And I don’t care if it’s impressive, that’s not— I’d still like to see it.” “Yeah, well.” He shrugged, unable to deny her assessment. He’d only thrown a single punch at Lucas; he’d taken far more than that from Caine. No surprise which had caused more damage. His breathing grew less than steady as her knuckles brushed his cheek, and he wanted to lean into her touch, wanted to step closer, but he could only stand perfectly still, eyes following every flicker in her expression. “I meant water,” he said with another soft chuckle. “Or coffee, or— I want us to talk sober, too.” He still felt a little flush of embarrassment that he’d been so drunk the last time they spoke. At all the things he’d almost admitted when they would’ve done more harm than good. “Couch or table?” he asked as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.

MICAH. “Not to burst your bubble, but there’s just no way that’s fading by Sunday,” she said with guilty smile, as if she was to blame for all of it (in a way she felt that she was). “That could work. You know, if your mother doesn’t see right through it.” Micah had a feeling his mother was too smart to fall for such a common trick, but she was his mother and he probably knew better than she did what he could or couldn’t get away with. “I don’t know. I’ve never given anyone a second chance before. Never really given anyone a first really.” Sean was the first person she’d considered getting serious with in her life and look where that’d gotten them. “If I didn’t make it abundantly clear the first time around, I know nothing about being in a relationship.” Her inability to communicate like a real person was clearly her biggest problem, but she was certain the list was longer than just that. “I just hope you’re not on the receiving end of said tantrums then. Maybe you’ll be around next time I unleash my anger on Caine, though. I’m certain he’ll do something else to piss me off soon enough.” She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t go at the mention of the table or the couch and she immediately cursed at herself for not staying on task. That wasn’t why she came here. “Table is good,” she said, hoping that would make it harder for her to not attack him with her mouth. She moved to one of the chairs, immediately noticing that the distance between them even here did nothing to distract her from what she really wanted to be doing. “So, hm, about what you said on the phone. That I was what you were missing…”

SEAN. “I know, I know,” Sean said with a small smile. “And you’re right— Ma’d probably see right through it.” He didn’t know the last time Micah had seen his mother, but some things didn’t change, and the fact that his mother was both too smart, and too much of a meddler, for him ever be able to hide something so big from her, certainly wasn’t one. He nodded slowly at her answer; he remembered clearly that conversation they’d had in his parents’ kitchen, remembered her telling him that she’d never really had a significant relationship. His stomach churned unpleasantly; if he’d thought the guilt he felt before was bad, it was a thousand times stronger with the reminder of just how much damage he’d done. “You— you were clear,” he said finally. He gave himself a little shake, then added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’d be hard. If we were really— I don’t think it’d be hard at all.” He was fairly certain, in fact, that it would be the easiest relationship he’d ever had. With the way he felt, with the connection they shared, there was no it could anything else. “I really hope so, too,” and the corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. “For both of those, actually. Not your brother pissing you off, but—” There was a pregnant pause after his question, and Sean mentally cursed himself; it sounded a lot dirtier than he’d meant it to, and so he was glad that Micah said table; maybe having the physical barrier between them wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He slid the glass of water across the table to her, and lowered himself into the other chair, silently glad they weren’t going to beat around the bush any further. “You’re still what’s missing. That hasn’t— that hasn’t changed. Isn’t going to change. I love you, Micah.”

MICAH. “Yeah, she seems way too smart to fall for a little makeup. Not to mention she can probably tell right away when you’re lying,” she pointed out with a knowing grin. When she was little and didn’t know any better, Micah was convinced his mother literally had a bullshit detector hidden somewhere in her house. She never fell for her innocent smile and a few bats of her eyelashes like most adults did back then. “Right. I was clear but it still wasn’t enough for you to stop seeing this other girl.” She told herself it was a classic case of not realizing what you had, what you wanted until it’s gone, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “I know what you mean. I think it could be easy too, if we did a better job at communicating and all that shit I’m terrible at.” They were both terrible at, she wanted to say, but figured adding another layer of guilt wasn’t what she wanted to do when they were talking about giving their relationship a second chance. “I’m scared. I’m scared I’m not enough for you and you just haven’t realized it yet. She took a sip of the water when he pushed the glass in front of her, but the water didn’t stay in her mouth very long. As unclassy as ever, the blonde spit some of it out when she heard the word ‘love’ come out of his mouth. She immediately wiped it away with the back of her hand, hopping off the chair just as quickly and moving between his legs. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard for a few seconds. “You couldn’t figure that out sooner, huh?” She asked with a glare, despite having just kissed him. “If I give you another chance, you can’t do that again. You know, break my heart.”

SEAN. His gaze dropped from hers as she mentioned the other girl, unable to argue with this, either. He’d known better, known that Micah was inexperienced when it came to relationships. He’d even known, on some level, that what he felt for her wasn’t platonic, or fleeting, and still, he hadn’t been able to do what was right. He’d failed her then, but she deserved more than his guilty silence now, so Sean took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “I’m sorry that I did. So, incredibly sorry. And I’m sorry that I made assumptions that— You were clear about your history, and I thought, I thought I was gonna be something else that was fleeting for you. I thought we’d get it out of our systems and then we’d be friends, but I was wrong. I was so wrong, Micah. And it took me way too long to realise how wrong I was.” Would it matter, now? Was it too much, telling her what he’d been thinking, flawed as it was? “I coulda asked you a thousand times what we were doing. If you wanted to be exclusive. If you cared that I-” He broke off, shaking his head. “You weren’t the only one who was bad at communicating.” And really, it had been his responsibility from the start. “I know it’s hard to believe me, but you are enough. You are everything I want, you are all I want. The only figuring out I had to do was realisin’ that. And I’d started to, when you said you weren’t seein’ anyone else.” The moment he wanted so desperately to be able to say the same. Sean wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected Micah to say, or do, at those three oh-so-important words, but a literal spit take? That didn’t even make the list. His confession seemed to echo in the apartment around them, and then she pushed back her chair, the scrape nearly as loud, and Sean half-turned in his seat, gaze locked on Micah as she crossed around the table. As she stepped right between his legs. As she took his face in her hands. As she pressed her lips to his. And then his hands were on her ass and he was kissing her back. She didn’t linger long, but he was still breathing hard when she drew back far enough to speak, and Sean gave her a half-smile. “I wish I had.” One hand moved to stroke her cheek, the other stayed where it was, keeping her close. “If you give me another chance, it’ll be different. And I promise, Micah, I’m never gonna hurt you again.”

MICAH. Micah couldn’t fault him for his logic. She told herself the same thing he did at first—that they were just getting it out of their systems, that soon enough she’d get bored with their fling as she got bored with everything else in her life. But soon their one-time thing turned out into a regular thing. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and quickly they were seeing each other every other day. It took her a lot less time than him to realize that his crush on him wasn’t fleeting and wasn’t just a crush. It was much more than that. “I don’t want you to keep apologizing, that’s not what this is about. You’ve said you were sorry more than enough times. I just want you to be sure—that this is what you want. I have enough people in my life making me feel unlovable.” Unknowingly, Sean had done exactly what her father had done her whole life. It made it that much harder for her to get over what he did, to finally work up the courage to answer the phone or just come here today. “Okay. We can do better this time around. We can be honest about what we want and where we see this going. Going with the flow just doesn’t work for us.” Her hands were on him, finally, and she had no intention of letting go of him anytime soon. They had wasted enough time. She raked her fingers through his short hair, stopping herself from just kissing him again long enough for them to get the important stuff out of the way. She nodded when he made a promise she worried he wouldn’t be able to keep. Despite her doubts, she was willing to give him another chance because she loved him too. She’d known that for a while now. “You better not. I might let my brother break your legs if you do,” she said with a playful grin, her lips brushing against his. “And I love you too, Sean.”

SEAN. It didn’t escape Sean’s notice that for all the apologies he’d offered, Micah hadn’t accepted a single one. He wasn’t sure he deserved her forgiveness, but he wasn’t sure what they were doing if she couldn’t give it. And if she didn’t want him apologising, what did she want? What did she need? He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “If that’s what you want, I won’t keep apologisin’.” He still felt unsettled about it, though, that was undeniable. He dropped his hand to the table, taking a deep breath. “And I am sure. I’m sure I want you. I’m sure I want to date you, and only you, and I want—” He bit his lip and ducked his head. He’d practically told her already, when he was drunk, but the fact that Micah had shown up, that she’d been concerned about him, that she was talking about trying again, none of that meant she trusted him enough to do what he really wanted. And he couldn’t blame her, but that didn’t make it any easier to balance telling her the truth (the whole truth this time around,) and not putting too much on her shoulders. “You’re so loveable, Micah.” His hands twisted together; anything to keep from reaching across the table for her. “Goin’ with the flow wasn’t the problem,” he said with a shake of his head. “It was not talkin’ about the flow. Not bein’ open about what we wanted and what we were doin’.” Sean’s eyes fluttered shut as Micah ran her hands through his hair, his lips parting slightly. He didn’t know how such a simple touch could affect him so deeply, but it did, and he wanted nothing more than her lips on his. There was more to say, though; more to make clear, and he sighed, gaze meeting hers once more. “If I ever hurt you again, I’d deserve it,” he said quietly, no teasing in his voice. He didn’t want Micah to doubt his sincerity any more than she might be already. That brush of her lips sent a shock of want through him, and he was leaning in, chasing her kiss, when she spoke again, and he stilled in an instant. “You do?” His voice trembled, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

MICAH. It wasn’t about her needing apologies at this point. Her presence here was forgiveness enough and she hoped he could see that. “It is what I want. When I say I don’t need any more apologies I mean to say you’re forgiven. You’ve been forgiven for a bit now, I think,” she admitted with a shrug. Beth had helped her see that Sean was deserving of a second chance, but her pride had stopped her from going back to him after their initial conversation. It seemed stupid to have wasted time now that she was here. “What else do you want? We’re past holding things back now, Sean. That’s what got us into trouble in the first place.” There was something he wasn’t telling her—probably the same thing he’d almost told her during his drunk phone call. “Tell that to my parents.” She wasn’t trying to make herself sound like the victim, but she knew that’s exactly what it sounded like. Her relationship with her father had given her shitty self-esteem. “You’re also very biased, Sean.” He put her on a pedestal, that much was clear to her, but she just couldn’t seem to understand why. She’d done nothing to deserve it. “We can do better, right? We’re good together. I have fun with you and you��re so, so patient with me. More patient than anyone’s ever been.” He seemed to like every part of her, even the ones people usually got annoyed with. His reaction to her touch only made her want him more, made her want to touch every single inch of him. Her hands slid down his chest, itching to feel his bare skin since she hadn’t in so long. “Yeah, you would,” she said with a grin, kissing him again. She would never tell her brother (or anyone) to hurt Sean, but it felt necessary to lighten the mood given the state of his face. She dragged her lips over his jawline until they reached his neck, nibbling on the spot she knew was particularly sensitive. “I do,” she whispered against his skin.

SEAN. “Oh.” Sean felt a little stupider than normal for having failed to realise that Micah showing up? That meant he was forgiven. And maybe he should’ve been frustrated that it had taken her so long to tell him — that it had taken him getting beat up by her brother for her to tell him — but all he felt was relief that he had her forgiveness at all. That all the complications he’d been imagining weren’t anything he had to worry about, after all. “Okay,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Okay.” Maybe it wouldn’t be complicated, after all. If he could just follow through on everything he’d said and stop holding back, that is. He took a deep breath, then another. Even though he was scared of messing up their tentative reconciliation, she was right, and he knew it. The only way they could possibly work was if he stopped holding back, no matter the reason. “I want to move in with you, Micah. I want us to find a place together, I— I want to wake up next to you every morning and come home to you every night and live with you durin’ the hours in-between.” He shook his head — if he thought it’d do any good, he’d do just that, but he doubted either of Micah’s parents would be influenced by how highly he thought of her, or how much he loved her. “I ain’t biased,” he said staunchly. Maybe a point he’d never be able to convince her of, but he’d try. “Thinkin’ you’re fun and one of the best people I know and strong and a little dramatic sometimes — that doesn’t make me biased.” He ached, more than ever, to reach across the table, to take her hands in his, but instead he nodded at her question. “I know we can do much better. We’re— we’re great together.” The drag of her hands down his torso made Sean wish she was touching him, touching his bare skin, not through his shirt. But he’d take it, take any piece of closeness he could get. And with the teasing grin Micah gave him, he couldn’t do anything but grin back, his eyes crinkling before he returned her kiss, tugging her shirt free so he could slide his hands beneath it. His touch was hungry; possessive; it had been too long since he’d kissed her, let alone had his hands on her bare skin, and he couldn’t get enough. Then she was kissing his jaw, his neck, and Sean’s head tilted back, giving her better access, until she reached the spot that drove him crazy. A strangled curse left his lips, his hand tangling in her hair. “Micah.” A plea, a promise; he dragged her lips back up to his, kissing her deeply.

MICAH. Maybe the hidden meaning behind her presence wasn’t as obvious as she first thought. Once again, she was proving just how terrible she was at communicating. “For the sake of communication, I’m going to spell it out: you’re forgiven. I wish I’d said it before Caine had a go at your face,” she said with an apologetic smile, giving one of his many bruises a gentle kiss. She expected a lot from this reunion--tears, kissing and most likely make-up sex knowing their tracks record. A proposal to move in together, however? That never made the list. She stared at him for a few seconds, stunned but not in a bad way. After moving around from one friend’s house to another, she couldn’t stress how appealing his offer was. Not to mention she couldn’t imagine wanting something more than to share a living space with Sean. Her best friend, the man she loved. What better way to make up for the time they’d lost than to move in together? Snapping out of her initial shock, she grabbed his arms tightly and shook him excitedly. “Yes, yes! Can we get one of those really fluffy mattresses like the ones they have in hotels? Oh, we also need a really big bath that we can both fit into. And a balcony where I can go out and read!” She was getting ahead of herself, in true Micah fashion, but she couldn’t stop herself now that she had started imagining what kind of place that could be right for them. “It makes you so biased. You saying I’m a ‘little’ dramatic proves my point. We both know I’m a lot dramatic.” And unapologetically so. Sean had to know what he was getting into at this point. “We are. I wasn’t much of a romantic before that night we ran into each other on the beach, but now… I kind of think it was fate. For us to find each other again after all that time. Being with you… it feels like coming home.” She was breathless, heat rushing to her core as his hands slid under her shirt and onto her bare skin. She should slow down, take the time to catch her breath, but she couldn’t get enough of him, of his touch, of his lips. His fingers grabbed onto her in a way that made her want to drop her panties on the spot and made it impossible for her to hold back a soft groan. She gladly let him pull her back to his lips, her own parting as her fingers curled through his short hair. “Where can we…,” she said against his lips, her words muffled, not bothering to finish her sentence.

SEAN. His lips quirked, and even though Sean had cleaned her meaning by then, there was still a part of him that needed that clarity, after so many false assumptions and miscommunications between them. “Thank you. For spellin’ it out for me.” Wincing at the mention of her brother, (and not her lips on his bruised skin,) he shook his head slowly. “I’m just glad I know now.” His mistakes, hers; he was content to leave them in the past. All that mattered was that they learned from them, and he knew they already were; were already trying to do better for each other than they had before. Sean’s heart pounded as Micah went wide-eyed, staring at him silently. She didn’t have to say anything for him to know she hadn’t expected this, despite his clumsy drunken hints a few weeks before. But before he could start to worry he’d asked too much her whole face lit up. Then she’d grabbed his arms and he took hold of her elbows, grinning both at her excited rambling and at the enthusiastic yes she’d given him. “Yes to the mattress, we can go shoppin’ as soon as we find a place, absolutely to the balcony—” he’d become familiar enough with available real estate over the past few months to know balconies were fairly easy to come by. Her other request, though, made his heart clench, and he wished suddenly they were a whole lot less clothed. “—And as for the bathtub …” his voice became a low, suggestive, rumble, “Are you tellin’ me we’re gonna have to test that out every place we go see?” He didn’t mind the idea, not in the slightest, even though he hoped they wouldn’t have to see too many apartments before finding the right one. He didn’t want to waste any more time now that Micah was back in his life, and he had no reason to linger on his sister’s couch. Chuckling, he countered, “I only said little so you’d be all dramatic about bein’ dramatic. I know you, Micah, and I love you, extremely dramatic parts and all.” And then, softer— “I kinda think it was fate, too.” He was sorry he’d misread the signs, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. “You make me feel like myself. The best version of myself, the guy I want to be, and I— I want to keep makin’ you feel like comin’ home.” Micah’s quiet groan went right through Sean, and he was beyond glad as her lips parted and he could kiss her as fully as he wanted. Maybe they were rushing, but with the urgency pounding in his veins, he had no desire to pause, or wait, not for a single second. “Couch,” he answered without really thinking about it, though he had enough presence of mind to say, “Condoms in the red duffle. Just—” Given how hard he was already, (and how long it had been since he’d had sex; two months might not be that long, but it was longer than he’d gone in a very long time) he knew he was in danger of embarrasing himself, of not lasting very long at all. That, coupled with his injuries … “Go easy on me.”

MICAH. She chuckled at the ridiculousness of the situation, giving him a quick peck once he was done thanking her. “Hey, we said we would make an effort to communicate better. I figured I’d get the ball rolling right away,” she said quietly, glad to be putting this whole thing behind her finally. Her life had felt incomplete since that day on the beach and she could already feel things getting better. First, he was back in her life and, second, he was providing what was possibly the best possible solution to her lack of apartment. She stepped between his legs when he grabbed her elbows, wanting to be as close as humanly possible to him in this very moment. “Oh my god, I have so many ideas! I hope you’re ready for days and days of shopping for furniture and decorations and everything we’re going to need. Like all your kitchen stuff, so you can cook for me like the good boyfriend you are.” Micah laughed at his suggestion, picturing the poor real estate agent that would have to witness the two of them getting frisky in every bathtub they encountered. “There’s no other way to make sure, is there? You’ll just have to keep your hands to yourself so we don’t embarrass whoever’s showing us the places.” The two of them keeping their hands to each other when the other one was close enough to touch was unlikely, so even if he ended up able to behave she most likely wouldn’t. “Well played, Sean. Well played. I wouldn’t be able to turn off the drama if I wanted to, so it’s a good thing you find it so endearing. I can safely say you might be the only one on earth who does.” Lucas couldn’t stand it and Caine put up with it only because they were blood-related and he had no other options. “Alright, enough with the cheesiness. I might just barf if we turn into one of those gross couples who can’t stop gushing about how in love they are.” Which they were, very obviously. They didn’t even have to say it for it to show, it was obvious in the way they looked at each other and the way they were always touching in some way. They already were that gross couple. “Honestly, I never thought I could have that effect on someone. I never thought I’d be the kind of person that would find something like this.” Especially not the first time she fell in love. She had somehow gotten so unbelievably lucky. Grinning, she pulled him by his hand and led him to the couch. After pushing him down and giving him a final kiss, she stepped away and took a step towards his duffel bag. “Take off your clothes,” she told him hurriedly, fishing the condoms out of his bag and throwing it his way before she started undressing properly. In a few seconds, her clothes were in a pile on the floor and she was straddling him again and working on undoing the small plastic envelope that was the last obstacle between the two of them. “I don’t know if I can do that.” She needed this just as badly as he did. It wasn’t even about just sex, it was about craving that closeness with him that she’d gone without for far too long now. Her lips found his again, kissing him hard as she put the condom on him. She still hadn’t broken the kiss when she lowered herself on his length, her breath catching in her throat. She let out a soft gasp, her fingers digging in his shoulders as she adjusted to him. “I missed you.”

SEAN. “It’s a good thing,” Sean replied, his voice equally soft. “You makin’ a start right away. And for the sake of improved communication: you’re wicked hot when you’re settin’ that kinda example and I’m gonna kiss you now.” He proceeded to do just that, smirking slightly as he drew back. Widening his stance so Micah could stand closer to him, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. He was more than ready for those days and days of shopping; for helping Micah pick through available options for everything from picture frames to sofas. His kitchen stuff, at least, didn’t require many additions; what he wasn’t using at Sydney’s was boxed in his room at his parents, and though he’d always like new toys, they were set in terms of pots and pans and utensils. It was her descriptor he latched onto, and he straightened slightly as he asked, “Say that again.” The good boyfriend you are. He didn’t think anything had ever sounded so good. Sean shook his head at her suggestion — “How about we don’t have the real estate agent come on the walk-throughs with us? They’re always spoutin’ all kinds of shit, anyway—” Shit he knew, objectively, was probably useful, but sometimes the feel of a thing was more important than the year it had been built and remodelled and who’d lived there before you. “I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself testin’ out bathtubs.” And even if he could promise such a thing … well, he didn’t really want to. Not when he had full licence, now. Full licence to wrap Micah in his embrace, to rest his palms on her ass, to tease her with a gentle rock of his pelvis. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said smugly. “But I promise, I ain’t the only one who finds it endearing.” Whether Micah knew it or not, though he was quietly determined that she feel how loved she was — not only by him, but by the friends she held dear, too. “Nah, you like the cheesiness. You’re a romantic now and everything,” he teased, pressing fleeting kisses to her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose, before returning to her lips for a kiss that didn’t linger nearly as long as he wanted it to. “We can put a pin in it, though, get back to that later …” Later, after he’d shown her in a very non-cheesy way just how much he meant everything he’d said. “But.” Taking hold of her hand, he curled her hand around his neck, his pulse jumping against her palm. “The effect you have on me— it’s everything, Micah.” It was physical, it was emotional, but moreso, it was the rare combination of the two. “It’s everything, and it’s real.” It wasn’t some fairytale movie ending; it was solid and true and lasting, of that much, he was certain. And despite all his experience, it wasn’t something he’d really found, either. “I’ve— I’ve never loved anybody like I love you.” Sean made a low noise in the back of his throat as Micah tugged him to his feet, and he followed the scant few feet to the couch, dropping to the cushions a little clumsily. But then her lips were on his, and he kissed her as soundly as he could before she drifted away. She didn’t have to explain for him to realise what she wanted, but he was glad she did it, anyway, as he tugged his shirt over his head, then lifted his hips and slid his sweatpants (and the boxers beneath them) down so they pooled around his ankles. It wasn’t as slick as he might’ve wanted (or even imagined; in the few times he’d allowed himself to fantasise about what it would be like, sleeping with Micah again — what he wanted to do if he ever got the chance.) Kicking away his pants, he smirked as he caught the oh-so-important packet. The expression slipped from his face as Micah stripped, though, replaced by what could only be called awe. “Beautiful. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He’d missed naked Micah, missed the way her eyes sparkled as she straddled him. As she took the condom from his now-slack fingers. His hands skated along her sides, reverent in their touch. Even if she could go easy on him, he wasn’t sure that was what he really wanted, after all. “Okay,” he told her, leaning forward and kissing her bare shoulder. “Then don’t.” He wanted the honesty that was Micah doing exactly as she wanted with him; the intimacy that came from being as close as two people possibly could be. He had to close his eyes as Micah slid the condom on him, the combination of her touch and her searing kiss almost too much. But then she’d shifted, her hands on his shoulders, and his dug into her waist, knowing what was coming next. Even knowing, he almost forgot how to breathe as she sank onto him. “Mi- Micah.” They stayed like that for several long moments, and then he managed one breath, and another, and kissed her lips that were right there. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, the easing of his hands a silent request that she start moving before he exploded. “I missed—” and then he kissed her, the gesture far more eloquent than anything he could say.

#c: sean #idk what to tag this i'm useless

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tellywoodtrash · 4 years

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Hi TT! So, this is out of the blue but I've been planning to get a cat and asking every single I know who owns a cat if I should. Would you recommend it?

Oh hello anon!

I personally did not plan to get Chandler. I just found him, abandoned in a stairwell, with a broken leg. I played with him a little and started to leave (coz I was super superrrrrrrrr late for work!), but he kept following me no matter how many times I put him back in the spot I found him. So I just took it as a sign that we were meant to find each other, and took him home. My parents weren’t thrilled, but I made a biggggggggg fuss until they agreed. (And now, he’s the preferred child in the house over me!!!!!!!)

The most important thing I would tell you is that please know that being a responsible pet owner is not sunshine and rainbows and frolicking through meadows all the time. It takes quite a bit of financial resources and patience. It’s very much like having a permanent toddler, that’s dependent on you for their whole life. Food, litter, vet bills, they can add up. They may unintentionally cause damage around the house. You will need to spay/neuter them to ensure that they don’t have behavioural issues caused by hormones. Cats are nocturnal creatures and can keep waking you periodically at night. We moved countries, and unfortunately, lots of people abandon pets in such cases; but we couldn’t even dream of doing that to Chandler, and so went through considerable paperwork and expenses to bring him with us to India. If you’re going on vacations, you must ensure a sitter/boarding service to look after them for when you’re gone. A healthy cat, if well taken care of, can live well into its late teens, so be aware that you will have to provide these things long-term. Please do not take on the responsibility of a pet if you think you’re not ready to be in it for the long haul. Even though they’re a different species, they are very much family. If you wouldn’t treat a human member of the family in a certain manner, then you shouldn’t do it to the pet either. They’re defenseless creatures who are completely dependent on you for their survival and well-being, and you should take that responsibility very seriously.

Another thing about cats is that they’re generally not as physically demonstrative with their affection as dogs are. (Varies from cat to cat, depending on their individual personality.) The instagram cats constantly cuddling and doing cute shit with their owners are pretty much like everything else on insta: heavily curated moments just to show the pretty side. But cats do show their love in lots of other ways. They hang out with you/follow you around while you do stuff. They can be very playful and trained to play simple games (Chandler loves hide and seek! The cat my roomies and I had while I was doing my Masters could play fetch as well as any dog!) They can sense when you’re sad or sick, and come sit with you to comfort you. (When my dad was diagnosed with cancer, Chandler didn’t leave his side all day. He even knew which parts of the body were sensitive and was careful to never brush up there. It was a great comfort for my dad, even with all the pain he was in.) They’re very intelligent and curious creatures, and honestly, you don’t need a TV in the house when you can just spend hours watching them do their delightful cat things. (I love to watch Chandler groom himself, trying to reach ridiculous places like the back of his hind leg knee!)

Another good side is that they’re quite low maintenance animals, both physically and emotionally. They thrive indoors (live longer that way than outdoor cats!) and are chill about hanging out alone for a few hours with no issues. You don’t need to walk them or anything, they just need some mental stimulation and small cheap things around the house to keep them entertained/exercised. (Don’t bother buying expensive toys, they’ll always prefer batting around a paper ball/random length of string to the fancy toy.) So ideal pets if you’re a working person. Also, they’re generally very clean creatures, so you don’t have the usual dog type issues of them routinely getting into muck and all dirty and needing to bathe them often. Note: if it’s a longhaired breed, you will have to regularly brush them to get rid of the extra fluff so that you don’t have hairballs all around the place (including inside the cat, which they’ll periodically puke up!) In any case, be ready to have everything you own covered in fur! It’s just an unavoidable part of having a pet. But generally, they’re very easygoing chill little buddies who are more like silly, not-so-independent roommates, once they’ve reached adulthood (in about a year or so.)

I personally find having a cat really really wonderful. I can’t imagine life without one anymore. Not counting my mom, Chandler is literally the most important living being on this planet to me. When I’m outside the house, I can’t wait to get back to him (and he comes running with a loudddd greeting and gives me a 10 minute sniffdown to explore the smells of the outside world.) He actively helps with my depression/anxiety (on some hard work days, I used to drive 20 minutes to go home on my lunch breaks just to see him for 10 minutes and feel better.) He’s generally not a big one for petting/cuddles (just about tolerates it for like a minute before running away) but still sneaks into my bed every morning when I’m sleeping and winds himself around my feet and falls asleep there. I love irritating him for fun, and we play-fight every day like real siblings do, till my mom comes and breaks it up. (He swipes and bites, but is always mindful to do it in a way that won’t hurt me much. He has never ever injured me on purpose.) It’s really really really lovely to have the trust and love of a creature with no agendas or conditional expectations. So in short, YES I do recommend it: all the work and minor annoyances are really worth it. It’s lowkey like parenting, coz you raise this little thing and get to see it develop into its own personality, and have wonderful love and companionship for years. Very fulfilling and good for the heart.

I hope you make a good, informed decision, anon; and that if you do get a kitty, have many many wonderful years with your furbaby!!!!!!!! (PLEASE SEND ME PICS!!!!!!!!!!)

PS - All the cats I’ve lived/hung out with longterm:

Chandler. My baby, actual love of my life.

Ria (short for SangRIA. My roommate liked drinking. A lot.) Aforementioned fetch player extraordinaire.

Pepper. Cat of coursemates. As an introvert, I wasn’t much for socializing, but I’d make myself get out on a weekly basis, just to hang out with this cat!

Nala (grey tabby) and Monkey (orange). I took a whole extra week of vacation time to stay with my friend (in pink) because she was a newish cat mom and needed a little help getting them settled in. Totallllllllllllllllllll cuddlebugs, who didn’t leave my side the whole time I was there!

#tt answers #cat owner life

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space-finally · 5 years

Text

A completely excessive list of Final Space predictions

Not just for season 2 but like in general. Also I'm just kinda like, spitballing here, do I expect every single thing here to happen exactly as I say? Nah. Just like, bingo-chart type predictions. And not really in any particular order, sorry for it not being organized.

*Spoilers below the cut*

It's a new villain who comes to save Gary at the beginning of the season. (Probably they realize Mooncake would be more compliant for Gary, and it's some sort "You'll help us if you ever want to see your friends again!" scenario.)

In fact, we don't actually see the rescue, just him slowly waking up with an oxygen mask on, villain introduces themself.

The crew's replacement ship is smaller, older, and run-down, which causes problems. (Whack-a-mole repairs without the help of the SAMES, don't have the luxury of everyone each getting a room to themself, etc.)

We find out John was actually an asshole, and/or Jack has a Freudian excuse.

The Dewinter family make an appearance.

We see Quinn's sister and dog.

Quinn backstory; there's a good reason why she has trouble trusting people.

Gary or Quinn say something stereotypically dad-ish or mom-ish to Little Cato.

Gary and Quinn mission separated from the rest of the group. ;-)

Little Cato is grossed out by Gary and Quinn making out in front of him.

"Mystery Girl" is somehow connected to either Gary or Quinn.

Alternate Garys from Chapter 8 return Spiderverse-style.

Gary's overly trusting nature bites him in the ass.....

....Which later causes him to NOT trust someone he SHOULD.

Nightfall appears suddenly without any warning or buildup.

A look into Nightfall's failed timelines.

Earthen refugees on other planets.

Alien zoo.

This

is either the remnants of Earth or the whole rest of Terra Con Prime

Explanation for why people on Terra Con Prime don't like humans.

Clarence is human-racist to Gary and Quinn (but takes a shine to Little Cato, having known his dad).

Clarence joins the team, but isn't entirely trustworthy.

Gary's robot arm is destroyed or damaged, forcing him to go with only one arm for a while, until he gets a cooler, upgraded one. (Bonus if he has to rip the arm off himself.)

Someone has a serious injury with actual lasting consequences.

Main character gets a new outfit, or at least new design element.

Mooncake isn't the same after LC's torture, he's either weaker due to the overexertion of his power, seriously traumatized, or just furious.

John was somehow involved in the Titan's grande scheme. (By association, so is Gary now.)

Some sort of "chosen one" thing going on with either of the former. (Yeah, bad trope and all, but the thing the Gatekeeper said about him being "chosen before he was even born?")

We see planet Ventrexia.

Little Cato becomes consumed with revenge, eventually leading him to become a minor villain or anti-hero.

Some form of "And don't call me Little Cato anymore! It's just Cato now!"

Some variation of "Your dad died saving your life, don't you dare waste it!"

A rift in the crew causing at least one of them to break off from the group for a while. (Gary, Quinn, or Little Cato)

Mooncake willingly leaves to protect the others.

Quinn is somehow changed after being rescued from Final Space. (Has powers and/or signs of corruption like the Lord Commander, or else is burned, deafened, blinded, or otherwise injured from the explosion itself.)

Quinn and Gary fight, like not petty relationship drama, but over some irreconcilable moral difference.

Just, something that serves as some sort of "pedestal breaking" moment for Quinn, where Gary finds out something not-so-great about her.

The crew, or just Gary, is forced to team up with the Lord Commander in order to fight the Titans.

Helper Hula returns, the goings-on of the Order of the Twelve is a big plot element.

A character develops powers, or else discovers previously-dormant powers.

Any is line lifted directly from the pilot.

We go inside the mind of a different Titan, (most likely this guy.)

Shelby Merry's "The Scorch" (Hmmmm.......would this be maybe a little TOO on-the-nose?)

Flashback to sometime between Gary being a kid and Gary meeting Quinn.

Gary is/was a gambling addict.

Dr. Bluestein and Derrick return, and we figure out what was actually going on in that scene.

The crystal has some sort of significance.

They get more on-the-nose about Gary's whole..."not allowed to have a guitar" situation.

Gary is offered and turns down a cookie (GASP!!)

Due to Nightfall or the Time Worm, the crew travels a significant amount of time into the past.

Avocato returns in some form, but NOT in a good way, or at least, not in a permanent way.

Quinn ditches the Infinity Guard uniform.

Mysterious space virus plot.

Someone coughs blood or vomits while wearing a helmet, and we see it across the mask.

This guy is just a harmless wacky dude trying to help:

Some sort of excuse to get everyone in fancy clothes (only to immediately get them soaked in bad guy blood!)

Another episode where everything seems to be going great, only to go horribly horribly wrong at the very last minute (a la Chapter 6)

Gary "remembers" things from other timelines.

Jack was really into board games ("All the pieces are in place. Let's play a little!" "Is this a game? I love games." "I love games! I always win." "This isn't how you play the game!")

KVN is replaced with another KVN unit.

Zargon slugs in the dark zone, that get defeated with salt.

At the very least, an explanation of what the "dark zone" is.

A fight scene or dramatic confrontation happens here:

Some sort of nightmare fuel fuckery goes down here:

Gary snaps and, out of desperation or rage, does something uncharacteristically dark (lashes out at someone, or hurts someone aside from shooting a no-name red shirt enemy.)

Encounter with a black hole (hey, that's topical right now!)

Feel free to add on!

#final space #final space season 2 #final space theory #final space prediction #theory

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wordsablaze · 5 years

Text

6/6: To Thank The Living

Five Times Diego Gave Klaus A Lift … and the one time he returned the gesture in his own way. Enjoy!

A/N: I feel like I just started but this is the end ^.^ Took double the time but it’s also over double the usual length! (more potential for errors so pls be kind about them) Hope you enjoy the finale <3

Sacrificing the sleep he barely ever gets anyway, Klaus secretly learns how to drive.

Not by himself, of course.

It turns out there are actually dozens of ghosts who don't want to drive him insane and just want to teach him to literally drive - mostly so he can take them to visit their relatives but Klaus is willing to do that if he gets what he wants out of the exchange as well.

It takes a painfully long time to master even the basics and he gets caught every so often, both by his siblings - mostly Ben, who's used to his untimely adventures - and various citizens who he almost crashes into and manages to talk out of pressing charges but for the most part, he's pretty adept at sneaking out and returning without being noticed.

Just like old times, but with a cleaner twist.

Most of the skills involved are easy enough, relatively speaking, to learn from ghosts but then he has to try and make sense of how to park and it totally goes over his head no matter how many different dead people try and teach him.

The old Russian lady from before finally decides to wrap a new scarf around her head and start talking sense but even she can't explain in simple enough terms. Granted, Klaus gets incredibly distracted by the fact that he'd never become fluent in Russian and yet he can understand her perfectly, but the absence of that confusion with ghosts who natively speak English doesn't make a difference so he decides to stop listening to any of them.

Which is why he ends up sneaking into Ben's room one night.

"Ben?" Klaus whispers, not wanting to switch the light on and annoy him despite being there for the sole purpose of disturbing his sleep.

It takes a few more - or rather, an awful lot more - repeated whispers for Ben to finally stir and groan. "Klaus? This had better be good, I swear…"

Klaus giggles and makes his way to Ben's bed, flicking the bedside lamp on and grinning down at his groggy brother. "This is your chance to prove you're a good teacher."

Ben just frowns, sitting up. "What are you on about?"

"You're great at driving-"

"I am not driving you anywhere right now," Ben interrupts, finally more awake.

Groaning dramatically, Klaus puts his hands on his hips. "You're not driving ME anywhere, Mr Uptight. You're just gonna sit beside me and teach me how to park without getting charged for minor property damage, savvy?"

Ben considers this for a moment, then furrows his brows. "Wait, so you can drive now?"

Klaus waves a hand dismissively but whatever he was going to reply with flies out of his mind when he catches sight of his palms and starts yet again mourning the loss of his tattoos.

Rolling his eyes, Ben blinks any remaining sleep away and grabs the sharpie that permanently lives on his bedside drawer purely for times like this before standing up, taking Klaus's right hand without saying a thing.

"What are you-? Oh…" Klaus beams sheepishly as Ben writes the word 'hello' on his hand as neatly as he can, then takes his left hand and quickly writes 'goodbye' on it.

Once Ben is done, Klaus' beam rekindles itself. "Thank you," he says sincerely, then adds: "And yes, I can drive now. Well, I can get moving and carry on going but I'm not very good at the stopping part yet."

"And so you need my help?" Ben concludes, twirling the sharpie in his hand with a smug look on his face.

Klaus gives him a pointed look. "Exactly which part of this scenario has inflated your ego?"

Ben shrugs. "Oh, just that you're finally begging for my help instead of ignoring me and begging alcohol to solve everything instead."

"Low blow," Klaus replies, mimicking Ben's voice with a grumpy look.

"Oh, get over it. I think I deserve one kinda rude remark in exchange for teaching you to park, don't I?"

Hope graces Klaus' face again, his prior annoyance forgotten already. "Really? You'll help?"

Ben snorts, finally putting the sharpie down. He grabs his jacket and slips it on as he nods to Klaus. "Of course. I know why you're doing this, after all."

At that, Klaus folds his arms indignantly. "Oh, really? And why's that, Mr Clever Clogs?"

Rather than replying like your average person, Ben just switches the bedside lamp off and slips out of the door, clearly assuming Klaus will simply follow him. And he's not wrong, obviously.

"Seriously?" Klaus whispers as the two of them make their way past the other bedrooms, managing to get outside without being noticed.

Ben just gestures to the car and smirks, causing Klaus to lightly punch his arm before giving up and climbing into the driver's seat, smoothly starting the engine as Ben slides into the passenger seat and glances at the mirrors to check they're positioned right.

"Are you sure you don't want me to demonstrate first?" Ben asks, clicking his seatbelt into place pointedly.

Klaus shakes his head. "Nope. I got this. Just tell me what to do with the stick when we have to stop, okay?"

Despite looking sceptical, Ben sits back and lets Klaus drive around for a bit, snickering to himself when Klaus mutters things at ghosts he can't see any more until Klaus finally turns to him. "Okay, Engie Benji, instruct away!"

"I keep telling you I don't know who that is," Ben sighs.

"And I keep telling you I'll show you when it starts to air," Klaus replies automatically, then gives Ben a pointed look. "Are you going to tell me how to stop or wait until a wall stops us?"

Spurred into action by that, Ben guides Klaus through changing the gear to the right setting and then easing the speed down until he can control the vehicle's movements properly.

Of course, Klaus decided to park on top of someone's letterbox during their first attempt.

They leave a little apology note but swiftly move on, trying again and again until the sun lights up the sky and they're both pretty exhausted.

"One last time? I think I've got it properly now!" Klaus doesn't really wait for a reply before speeding up again, driving to the nearest supermarket with a mostly empty parking lot so he can try again.

The little German boy who'd appeared in the backseat about an hour ago shouts something similar to a battle cry when he starts to slow down again. Klaus bites his lip as he thinks back to Ben's words and focuses solely on manoeuvring the little car into a parking space.

It works.

The car ends up perfectly central in the unusually tight space and Klaus breathes a sigh of relief, nodding at the proud-looking little boy before turning to grin at Ben, only to find him fast asleep.

"Oh," Klaus says blankly, frowning guiltily at his brother.

Ben is none the wiser. He continues to stay that way even as Klaus giddily drives them back to the house, even as the car is deftly parked in its usual spot, and even as Klaus struggles with carrying him back to his room, ultimately tucking him back into bed without either of them getting injured.

Klaus dimly registers the ghosts muttering something about manners and improper ways but he pays then no need as he sits down to catch his breath for a moment, suddenly feeling utterly drained of energy. Maybe he should exercise more, he thinks to himself as he yawns widely, lazily stretching his arms above his drooping head...

The other siblings all notice that both Ben and Klaus are missing at breakfast but none of them raise the issue, choosing to act as normal so their Father doesn't make it into a big deal.

"You'll check on them, right?" Vanya asks quietly when their Father gets up to leave, and nobody needs to ask who she's referring to.

Diego nods, worry shining in his eyes. "I'm already on it."

As soon as breakfast is over, Diego slips upstairs and heads to Ben's room, taking a moment to process what he sees as he opens the door: Ben is turned to face away from the door, clearly deep in sleep, and Klaus is sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against the bed and his head drooping down onto the mattress, seemingly asleep as well.

"What on earth?" he says aloud, without thinking about it.

Klaus gasps, springing upright and immediately groaning, one hand reaching for his neck before he's even opened his eyes.

"Klaus, what are you doing?" Diego asks, making a note of the sharpie words that have somehow reappeared on his skin.

"Did we miss lunch?" Klaus inquires sleepily.

Diego takes a second to laugh before shaking his head and stepping forwards, holding a hand out in front of Klaus. "Breakfast just finished. Now come on, stand up."

Yawning carelessly, Klaus takes his hand and pulls himself up, then grins at Diego. "You didn't eat anything, did you?"

"What else do you expect me to do at breakfast?"

Klaus shrugs. "I'm pretty sure you'll have spent the whole time deeply missing my spectacular presence," he drawls.

Raising an eyebrow, Diego shakes his head. "I might have missed Ben but you... Well, it was a nice break."

"You wound me, dear brother," Klaus whispers hyperbolically, but then just nods in agreement, copying the serious nature of Diego's expression as he says, "I second the fact that we'd miss Ben but not each other."

Diego just rolls his eyes and glances at their still-sleeping brother. "Why isn't he getting up?"

"He had a late night," Klaus replies swiftly, "as did I."

Not letting Diego verbalise the questions it's obvious he has, Klaus jumps onto the bed and practically falls on top of Ben, who jerks awake and twists them around so he's on top of Klaus, an arm at his throat.

"Calm down there, sleepy head." Klaus just pushes Ben's arm off his neck, clearly not bothered by that at all; it takes both his siblings a moment to remember that he's had far worse, both willingly and otherwise.

"What's going on?" Ben asks as he sheepishly pushes himself back, directing the question more towards Diego.

Except Klaus ignores that and answers anyway. "We are going to go for a drive and treat Diego to an ice cream sundae as an apology for making him worry."

Ben makes a face. "It's not like that was my fault."

It's obvious Klaus had been expecting that because he sits up and grins smugly. "Which is exactly why you're not the one playing chauffeur today!"

Now it's Diego's turn to be confused. He glances between the two of them sceptically. "What are you talking about? We all know you're absolutely terrible behind the wheel."

Klaus slaps a hand to his chest and lets his jaw fall open as he gasps. "Diego! You continue to wound me!" After clearing his throat, he continues: "You'd think that going to the effort of figuring out this whole driving business would get at least one 'thank you'..."

Diego frowns further, still not getting it. "What?"

Even Ben, who's only just about awake, is exasperated enough to roll his eyes. "Our resident idiot here spent a billion nights sneaking out and learning to drive, Dee, I think that part is pretty clear."

Klaus tactfully ignores the insult in Ben's reiteration because Diego's expression of curiosity, realisation, and what might be horror is absolutely worth it. If only he'd been allowed to keep that camera he'd found a few weeks back.

"Did you seriously do that?" Diego asks quietly.

Klaus jumps up and smoothens out the wrinkles in his shirt. "Let's go find out, shall we?"

And so they do.

They make their way down to the back door, briefly stopping to assure Vanya that they are indeed okay before taking the usual path to their car, with Klaus walking round to the driver's seat this time, taking a deep breath before climbing inside and glancing to his brothers with an expectant look. "Coming?"

The answer is obviously 'yes' but it takes a while for them to settle in because Diego and Ben aren't used to sitting with one another. Once they do settle down though, Klaus starts the car and smiles gleefully, which is both endearing and extremely worrying.

"You're sure about this?" Diego asks Ben, who just elbows him and glares, implying that any doubt is pointless and rude.

Diego holds his breath - not that it means much - as they set off and speed up, easing along the familiar roads to the ice cream place with minimal turbulence.

"See?" Klaus asks after a while, as the ice cream place comes into view, half his attention focused on the very distinct lack of ghosts around them and the other half focused on monitoring Diego's reaction.

It's a reaction and a half. He seems utterly thrown by this turn of events and actually says nothing until Klaus slows down, at which point he still doesn't say anything but grabs onto Ben as if expecting them to crash, which of course doesn't happen, Klaus successfully parking the car as smoothly as his brothers can.

"This is the part where you say something nice," Ben whispers to Diego, internally laughing at his disbelief.

Foregoing words entirely, Diego swiftly walks over to Klaus and pulls him into a tight embrace, making him gasp and cough for a second before he can reciprocate and grin at Ben over Diego's shoulder. Ben gives them a few moments before joining in with the hug, squishing all three of them together with a proud smile on his face and gratitude in his heart.

He'd die all over again if it meant they could have more times like this.

When they finally pull themselves apart, Diego clears his throat. "Thank you," he manages, and that's all he needs to say.

Klaus beams happily, looping his own arms through both Diego and Ben's arms, starting to walk towards the little ice cream shop. "It's about time I repay the favours you technically haven't done for me, isn't it?"

Diego has no words, formed or not, to express the extent his love in that moment so he chooses to just nod, accepting that freezing cold, soft, and fruity payment is probably the best kind.

Sure, it's not exactly conventional to eat chilled desserts in the place of nutritional meals but sometimes, that's simply what it means to live life and, since the three of them have seen more than enough of death in their lives, they're happy to just enjoy the weird times they can have together, not caring if they have to throw away what might be considered ordinary in favour of embracing mundane pleasures, and each other.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks! Masterlist

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #the horror #the kraken #the seance #fanfiction #fanfic #5+1 things #fluff #sibling love #ftdgkal #my writing #vanya hargreeves #the white violin #happy ending

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evilblackcat13 · 6 years

Text

Nurcing Leon’s Wounds

Leon is no stranger to getting severly injured. But what would each injury mean to his body realisticly. Before i get annoying by repeating myself, in most cases of injury, it would have been too dangerous and too lethal to even survive any of it. With that out of the way, Let’s begin!

1998: Shot in the chest.

In one of the most infamous sacrifice Leon has done, He takes a bullet to his chest to protect Ada. So what would this injury translate in reality? First of all let’s look at his uniform.

However, unlike what would most people think, a “bulletproof jacket” isn’t exactly bullet proof but more “bullet resistant”. According to the National Institute of Justice’s Ranking of armors, his RPD unifrom should be a level 2 soft amour bullet proof vest. If we assume it’s an 2A level, it should normally be able to stop 9mm ammo heighting at max 124grams for 1225fps. It also includes a shot of a .40 Smith and Wesson bullet at 180grams going at 1155fps.

Looking closer at Annette’s gun, it seems to be a desert eagle.

So, that would mean that Annette’s weapon could be a .50 Action Express ammo magnum. So if it’s truly the case, the ammo should be able to pierce Leon’s armour.

If we compare Leon’s chest to an anatomy dummy :

That would mean the bullet fractured his shoulder blade and could have pierced his lungs. At worst, even ribs can be fractured. Plus, an injury like that is prone to hemorrhage and infection. At the moment of the injury, he’d have chest pain, problem breathing and it be reduced as well.

However , if we apply Ada’s bandaging to a real life situation, that wound would have not worked in the slithest! In an emergency, it is a prirority to bandage the wound to aid breathing since blood and mucus can be inhaled. So, the bandages needs to be closer to the body and be sterile.

Leon should have been dead. ( Good Job , Ada. )

2004: Falling into Wooden Forein bodies

This one instance could have given serious damage to Leon. First of all, the fall would have hurt like hell. Second, that throw was enough to break the closet. There is no doubt that there could have been splinters entering anywhere on his body. I can’t imagine how hard must have it been for Luis to not only be knocked onto the closet by that blow AND be crushed by 78.2 kg or 172.4 lbs (Leon’s weight) on top of that.

2004 : Cut To The Face

Here’s is the BIGGEST mistake Leon as done at that moment: wipping off the blood off his face.

Keep in mind that Leon as contracted loads of stuff that could have contaminated to wound such as anything in the village, las plagas , mud, contaminated water, shattered glass, ect. Not to mention that LEON HIMSELF commented on how vile and dirty the place was :

Seriously, there is too many things that could have infected that cut with this one swipe.

Not only did he never washed to wound properly (like with ointment cream or rubbing alcohol) but it never accured to to him to even bandage it up! According to specialists "New cells have to migrate to the appropriate areas to help with healing. Keeping your scrape covered and moist facilitates this process. Exposing wounds to air does not."

Sure he could have gotten worst injuries from any of the weapons held by a Ganado since, unlike Krauser’s knife, most weapon could have rust. Ence there’s more chance is chance of an infection. But there is an equal chance of infection if the cut was deep.

Here’s what could happen to his wound if it is infected :

The Redness could persist

The Pain wouldn’t subside

The Pus could turn green or get smelly

The wound could get swollen

Leon would feel sick afterwards

2013: Walking on Metro Railways

It should come as no surprise but it is extremely dangerous to walk on a metro’s railway. Doesn’t help that some metros around the world, like the Montreal’s Metro, pretty much showcases that the rails are 750 volts.

Around 10 and 1000 volts would generate around 15-20 amps which means extreme pain and contraction of muscules. Namely he wouldn’t be able to let go of the rails. At 100 to 10000 volts, the amps would be between 100 and 300. Which means ventricula fibrilation ( disturbance to the cardiac rhythym) that could cause his heart to stop, burns, permanent damages or death could happen.

There could be a chance that he could have evaded it because of his dress shoes.

Looking closer at the shoes, they appear to be some Oxford shoes. The likely materials of those shoes is leather and rubber which are poor conductors of elecetricity.

However, keep in mind that, before he reached to metro rails, he walked in the sewers. Unfortunately, it turns out that dirty water could be a good conductor of electricity. Also, running around would cause him to sweat. Since sweat is relatively salty, salty water is also a good conductor of electricity.

Leon would have died even before reaching the Tall Oaks Catherdral.

2013: The Bus Crash

There is many factors , minor or major, that could have injured him! For example, glass, metal and rock chards could have been lodged or scrape him.

The fall itself could have been enough to cause many factures and even concussions.

With this brightened image of the bus, we could have a good idea of how tall was the cliff. First of all, i need to find which bus it is. Thank god there is not much of models for school buses. From looking at multiple references, IC Bus of the BE-Series. We can estimate that the bus is 102 inches wide (2591 mm),and overall weight to be around 10000-36000 lbs (4536-16329 kg).

According to this screen shot, the bus would fit around 7 times. So that would mean that the hill is around 59′5″ or around 18.14 meters tall.

Now that we have the approximate height of the cliff, now we can move on the the impact of the 18 wheeler.

According to my research, i can estimate that the max speed of this truck is 120mhp and it’s minimum weight is 80000 lbs :

So to calculate the force of impact , i need to do 2( mass (36287.39 kg) times velocity ( 53.6448 m/s) ) divided by time of impact ( 0.5 seconds). The impact should be at 3893259.56 newtons of force.

Now to look at the fall! I’ve timed the fall to be 5 seconds ( and 3-4 seconds is slow-mo -ed ). To calculate the velocity of the fall, i need to calculate the distance divided by the time. Which means 18.14 meters divided by 5 equals a velosity of 3.628 m/s. For the kinetic energy, i need to calculate 0.5 x m 3.6282. To make it fair, let’s say it is the average weight of a school bus ( 23000 lbs or 10432.5 kg ). That would mean the fall was of 68658,29 joules of force.

That would mean Leon’s bones would likely shatter if not fracturing his skull. Sorry to say this but i don’t think i’d survive that!

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!

Now to cover the bus exploding!

Unfortunately, the bus crashing and exploding is just an hollywood myth and has been debunked. Or should i say... BUSTED! I remember clearly from my favorite show of all time , Mythbusters , they tested the myth and the car only crashed and nothing more as shown bellow :

The way they made it explode was with their favorite explosive : C4.

However, let’s assest was would it mean to be so close to an explosion like this one even if it would NEVER HAPPEN. To be safe from an explosion like this one, you’d have to be around 3,750 feets away or 1,143 km. But Leon is too close to the explosion. He’d fall around the 1m to 2.7m from the blast of the following chart :

He’d be super dead if a car exploding was a thing. Nevertheless, in a realistic setting, the bus would have NEVER exploded in the first place. You would think people would have pointed that out in quality control and especialy with school busses of all things.

2013 : Flashbang

Sure it looks like nothing but let me asure you that there IS some damage related to a simple flashbang grenade.

Although described as a non-lethal weapon, there is some major downside to those on the recieving end. Namely, 170 decibels at detonation. That is louder than firecrackers at 140 to 150 dB. This would lead to pain and ear injuries. At worst , it could lead to a permanent hearing loss. Not to mention fragmentation of the grenade itself and probably dangerous smoke inhalation is part of the dangers of a stun grenade.

2013: Shot by Derek C. Simmons

First of all, let’s estimate what is the projectile thrown by Simmons. From the shape of it, it seems to be ribs. Here’s the overall range of lenght of any human ribs :

Let’s say Simmon’s ribs are as fast as an M16A1 rifle. The M16A1 fires around 800 round per minute. That would mean around 13.333 rounds per second. I’ve timed the shots to last 2 seconds. So at least 26 ribs as been fired towards Leon. I’m looking frame by frame how many hit him and it seems to have only missed Leon 5 times. So he could have been hit 19 times.

The biggest projectiles would be equivalent of anti aircraft / anti-tank artilery rail gun such as the 8.8 cm Flak 18-36. The smaller projectiles would be equivalent to an anti-aircraft/multi-purpose autocannon such as the Bofors 40 mm gun. Such projectiles could cause pronctures and rips to vital organs and internal bleeding, factures of bones and skul and massive hemorrhaging. That would mean Leon could have died by either the shards hitting his skull, punctered any vital organs or the ribs hitting so hard that it could have severed any celebral nerves.

There is no doubt that Leon took one hell of a beatting that in most situation could have killed him. And i’ve only touched the games and there’s probably some i’ve missed but for now that’s what i’ve been able to muster up into this digital forensic morge. I’ll probably touch on the films as well. NOT THE LIVE ACTION ONES! THE REAL GCI ONES ( so Degeneration, Damnation and Vendetta). But for now, i feel like i ranted for too long and here’s what i’ve been able to come up with.

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #forensics #resident evil 6 #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #damage #injury #injuries #long post

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