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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

#bnha 308 #midoriya izuku #muscular (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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carinyms · 3 years

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I've scrolled through a lot of discourse on episode 4 of Loki and I need to talk about it

(good lord its a whole essay im sorry)

I gave myself a headache from crying while watching this. (I joined the Loki fandom post-IW so I’ve never had to see him die before while emotionally invested and boy!!! Is it doing things to my fragile psyche!!). But now I’m rehydrated and more stable and ready to party so let’s go

Right off the bat, I loved this episode — loved it loved it loved it. Silly, manic in-shock Loki is gone and shit is getting real. My thought while watching this was truly “wow this is my favorite episode so far” and damn am I in a minority with this opinion lol.

So here’s my perspective on some of the discourse flying around, and just general thoughts

On the whole ‘Narcissist’ thing:

IMO, Mobius saying this means nothing: he’s mad and he’s spouted lies at Loki to push his buttons before (see: every interaction they’ve had since episode 1).

Loki saying this to Sif-- well, Loki is and always has been an unreliable narrator on himself. The major theme of this show is that he doesn’t really know who he is, deep down, and he’s trying to figure it out. The TVA is taking advantage of this, and even though he’s trying to stay above it all throughout the series, he's still in a really impressionable spot and absorbing what others tell him about himself. (not to mention this scene is literal torture and he’s already proven that he’ll say whatever he needs to to get out of it.)

But he does admit one true thing when he says “It’s because I’m scared of being alone.” (And like wow okay same don’t mind my tears) but here’s a big brain idea!

Sif pulls him up and says ‘You are alone, and you always will be’, which is like, WOW that’s cruel after what he said, but it makes me ask wonder: Sif is sentient in this scene, but obviously it’s not really her. Who’s controlling her? And why is it so important for them to make sure Loki thinks he’s alone? I’d go as far as to wager that Sif never even said this to Loki, the big bad made this up. (he admits he forgot about this ever happening, I doubt he’d remember what she said.)

I think the nexus event on Lamentis that caused the branch was two Loki’s joining sides. Or, Loki no longer being alone. Loki insists while talking to Mobius that “she’s not my partner!” but she was, and they were partners from the moment they grabbed hands on Lamentis — right when the timeline broke off. I think Loki variants teaming up is the biggest threat to whoever is pulling the strings here — that’s why the post-credit scene is so significant. (Is Loki the only person who has multiple variants of himself who've escaped the TVA?)

And here’s where I’m gonna get salty--so I apologize but i need to rant about this-- but it’s seriously pissing me off that so many people are intentionally reading this as Loki/Sylvie and then being mad about it when that’s clearly not what’s happening and why is everyone acting like Mobius with one angry jealous brain cell and no critical thinking about the context of the characters.

If people ship it that’s chill, but for the people who are against it—it’s clearly supposed to be platonic, and it’s so upsetting that in the year of our lord 2021 we still can’t have a man and woman hold hands without people saying it’s proof they want to f*ck each other, like what in the misogyny??? STOP. This show was written by a bi woman and Tom the-most-emotionally-sensitive-man-on-this-planet Hiddleston — let them display an intimate loving friendship goddammit. This isn’t romance, this is Loki learning how to admit he cares for someone who cares for him in return — something he hasn’t experienced a whole lot of and clearly doesn’t know how to navigate.

(You have permission to personally come at me if it actually turns out to be romantic by the end of the show—but as of right now I will die on this hill.)

Him putting his hands on her shoulders to me was a clear indication he wanted to hug her, and I’d like to think he would have told her he cares about her, and that they can figure it out together. Because these are two characters who’ve never had anyone else to rely on and trust, and for the first time they’re not alone.

And I have to think about what prompted this from Loki. He just lost Mobius the moment after he called him friend. The way I see it, he’s just realized the true gravity of what they’re up against, and Loki is suddenly very afraid of losing Sylvie too before he tells her cares about her, of dying truly alone because he never told anyone what they meant to him. (Don’t think about this in the context of him also having watched his entire family die knowing he never told Frigga or Thor how much he loved them either don’t think about it—) He’s realized, finally, that he has doesn’t have to be alone, that he can choose to be close to people and have friends. And god it’s so heartbreaking that he never got to hug her or have that moment with her. I really hope they get that in the end. I hope he gets it with Mobius. I hope they have a group hug. I'm upset again.

Okay, deep breath, ANYWAY.

Hopefully this didn’t come off as attacking anyone else’s opinions.

Personally, I love this character so much, I’m just so happy to be seeing him in his own storyline that they can’t go wrong here. Objectively I think the production is amazing, and personally I love they way Loki’s character has been explored so far. (Yea yea, was I HOPING that the bad-memory loop would morph into Sanctuary and Thanos and like a full exploration of his true worst memories? Yes but let’s be honest my whump needs will never be met in canon and I have to accept that lol.)

Honestly I left all my own meta about this character at the door when the series started, because for me the opinions I’ve formed from the hundreds of (amazing) fics and meta I’ve read on this character and what’s true in canon are basically inseparable at this point, and no portrayal is going to live up to the way Loki exists in my head. Canon Loki and fic Loki are two different characters and I can enjoy both at the same time :) I’ve just loved seeing the character get given the different dimensions he deserves, and written by people who care about his story.

Also, it’s not over! If he was dead and this was it I’d be very upset, but this is the rock bottom of the storyline, and I think the whole next two episodes will be the build back up. I trust it’s gonna be worth it. SO hyped for flaming sword Loki. I would die for Sylvie, but I’m excited to see him on his own again.

My current most pressing questions are:

-what was the fallout of Sylvie’s bombing the timeline? (Have we seen that yet, am I just dumb and missing something?)

-Obviously, who’s behind it all? (Kang? Is there a head honcho Very Evil Loki at the top?)

-How much does Ravonna actually know, and to what extent is she just a pawn too? She asked Sylvie to prune her— she’s probably also been duped here.

-Is everything we learned about the sacred timeline BS? How much of what the TVA workers believe is real?

-my favorite theory so far is that the war of the timelines miss minutes talks about hasn’t actually happened yet, maybe making setting that into motion is the true endgame, leading into Multiverse of Madness?

(Side note: holy HELL im so excited for this soundtrack to drop on Spotify. It’s SO AMAZING I had CHILLS in the end credits.)

Open invitation to discuss anything with me if you feel inclined! :)

#if you read all of this please come say hi and be my friend because I don't know if even I'd read all this lol #loki #loki show #loki series #loki show spoilers #loki spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki show discourse #loki show positive #my disaster son has a show

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icollectyoursins · 3 years

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Holy shiiiiiiit! Asnsks, I love your blog! Thank you for this amazing content! 😍❤️ Could I please request an Abbacchio x fem! Reader, where she tries to convince him to role play as a police officer for her? Thank yooou! (also, I'm sorry for my terrible English) 💮

No, absolutely I can write that! I have no idea how to do role play (which, you would think as someone training to be an actor, I would, but I just don’t get it.) However, I also said I didn’t see the point of liking Kira and after writing that I discovered so many things about myself. I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me, ahah.

Update as of finished writting: This awakened something in me, hence the length. Oops.

You may have bitten off more than you can chew with asking Leone Abbacchio to dabble in robber/cop role play. Your fantasy has become a reality, however you’re starting to think the power is getting to his head (in the best way possibly, of course).

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Role play (obviously), handcuffs, man-handling, fingering, making the reader taste their own uh... juices?? (I don’t know what to call it), spanking, dildos (not masturbation, but used on reader, I just can’t remember what it’s called), rough sex, cream pie.

Word Count: 1794

Oh, dear.

“Oh, come on! It could be fun,” you wrapped your arms around Abbacchio’s waist, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Trying to convince him to role play with you was proving harder than expected. He was more than apprehensive to indulge in your fantasy, but the look in your eyes and the sway of your hips had him weak, only one more word away from breaking to your will. “What could go wrong? Me, in handcuffs, helpless. You could do whatever you wanted.”

He huffed, looking away from you, clearly blushing. You would look so good bare in front of him, hands behind your back, ass red from smacking it so much. He could already feel something churning in him. “Fine.”

Your face lit up at your victory, standing up on your toes to peck him on the lips. “But, no clothes.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I’m going out, I want you to be here. All day. No clothes. Try not to do anything suspicious.”

Oh... oh, no. Warmth spread through your core as well as on your face as you nodded, grinning.

-----------

True to your word, you spent the entire day after that wearing nothing, opting to spend most of the time under a blanket until he sent you a message saying he was on his way. At that point, you walked around the house, putting things out of place, hiding things, you know, normal criminal stuff.

You were in the kitchen when he gets home. The minute he steps in, you can feel energy change in the air. It’s serious all of the sudden, sending excitement down your spine. There was no mistaking, he’s going to be hunting your ass (possibly quite literally). In a spur of the moment decision, you hide behind one of the walls so you’re out of view. You can hear his footsteps as they walk into the living room, away from you. A breath of relief rushes through you, but you can’t help shaking, whether it was the cold or excitement, you don’t know, but you hoped he couldn’t hear you.

Abbacchio looked around his living room, noticing little bits and bobbles missing. Whoever “broke in” to his house left the valuables, thank god, at least in this room, perhaps he should check in the kitchen? Soft, slow footsteps made their way towards your hiding place. You couldn’t help shyly covering yourself when you heard him round the corner, stopping at the entrance.

He knew were there, but just to tease you; make you wait, he looked the other way towards the window. Hands in pockets, he walked over to it, closing the curtains. It doesn’t take long to notice the clinking of metal on his hips as well as the shine. Handcuffs, proper handcuffs. You also noticed the bag hanging off his hand. From what you could make out in the plastic, there was something very long and very pink.

Leone hears a shift behind him, then turns around to see what made it. The sight he saw would have knocked any other man onto his knees. He knew better. A woman he had never met standing in his kitchen completely bare. She hadn’t even had the decency to properly cover her tits. He narrows his eyes, sighing.

There was something in the way he looked at you that made you feel so small and afraid. You broke into a run, turning around the corner and up the stairs, holding your breasts so they wouldn’t slap. God knows that is the last need you needed. A sore chest from-

Hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into something solid, then pinning you against the wall. You’d only made it to the bottom of the stairs when he caught you. He placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, snatching one of your hands, twisting it behind you. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan as he growls in your ear.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he trailed a hand across your back, down your side and then to the front of your crotch, lightly teasing the outside of your lips. “Were your hoping I wouldn’t be home? Thought you could take what you wanted and then leave, thief?”

“I’m not a-”

“Don’t deny it. Do you know who I am?” Abbacchio presses into you, lips brushing against the crook of your neck.

“N-no.”

“So, you don’t know you’re stealing from an officer? And poorly, at that.”

“Uh-no.”

“Tch, pathetic. What? Did you decide to get off while you were here? Thought you’d have time?”

“This is an abuse of power,” you say shakily. He laughs lowly.

“No. This is an abuse of power,” he grabs your other hand, pinning them to your lower back. You hear the clinking of metal and then a cold around your wrist. Instinctively, you tried to move; to escape, but he was too strong, pushing harder into you as a warning. You’re trapped now, there was no way to get out of this. What was your safe word again?

Leone’s hand returns to your vagina, from the other side this time, groping your ass cheek on the way down. You hadn’t even realized how wet you were until you heard the squelch of his finger pressing into you lightly. He chuckles again, pulling his finger back, putting it in his mouth. He hums at the taste.

“What a tasty thing you are, thief. Is this what you wanted? To be bound and fucked? What a whore.” He turns you around, quickly lifting you up over his shoulder. You kick your legs for a bit, but soon discover that it’s pointless. He’s going to do whatever he wants with you and you fucking love it.

He walks into the living room, stopping at the arm of your couch, setting you down and then flipping you around, pushing you over it so your ass is in the air. You hear some shuffling behind you, then in mere seconds, his fingers are back on your slick entrance sliding up and down, putting extra attention in to your little bundle of nerves, pushing harder against your clit. Occasionally, he changes the direction, keeping his rough fingers on your bud, swiping back and forth before returning to your wet, needy hole.

You moan loudly, pushing back against him. Your moan is met with a firm smack against your plush cheeks. Abbacchio wraps his hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back arches.

“Do that again,” he growls. You furrow your brows and are about to say something when you feel something large against your entrance. It’s cold, plasticy. He’s not going to-

Your thought is cut off by the thing pushing into you, making you mewl. The tip goes in, but then he pulls it out, only to push it back in, deeper. The process repeats until what you now know is a long dildo is almost fully in you. Your face is red and your scalp sore from how long he’s been holding you there. He lets go, letting you flop to the soft cushions.

He moves to your side, bringing the dildo to your lips. You open your mouth willingly, eyes rolling back at the taste of yourself on it. Abbacchio mumbles something about you being a whore, but you’re not sure, not that you’d mind. At this point, it was well past being confirmed. He smacks your ass again, then gropes it which makes you jerk forward, taking just a little bit more of it in your mouth. His hand continue to come down on your cheeks until they’re red and there’s a visible bulge in your throat.

The dildo is removed from your throat far too soon, a string of drool still connects you to it. You pant, barely calling out his name when he walks behind you, tossing the pink thing away. The sound of his clothes coming off is unmistakable. You’re already so out of energy, but there’s something in you that never wants this to end. He rubs his thumb down your slick again.

“Is this what you wanted, puttana?” You whine, nodding your head. “I better make this worth your while, then, shouldn’t I?”

You nod again. “Please.”

You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance. “Please what?”

“Please~ah. Please fuck meee~” He chuckles darkly, then slams his length into you in one quick motion. You scream, voice cracking. His hands wrap around your handcuffs, using them as a handle while he pounds into you, pulling out completely, then filling you again. Eventually, his thrusts are so powerful that he’s using your own momentum to fuck you.

You’re not aware of what you’re saying, but you know words are coming out of your mouth, babbling like an idiot as he fucks out every brain cell you have. Abbacchio hears every word, though. And he loves it.

“Ah! Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me, please. Oh, don’t stop. God YES, don’t stop! Abbacchio, ~uuuh.~ Leone!” Fuck, he was getting close. All he wanted to do right now was fill your walls with his seed. He groaned. Thinking of our cum dripping out of you drove him insane. He let go of the handcuffs, doubling over you, picking up the pace of his hips.

The feeling of his cock pounding into your walls over and over and over again quickly drove you over the edge, orgasm washing over you in a white sheet. Your walls spammed down on Abbacchio, clamping down on him tightly, your juices flooding over the side and down his leg sent him flying into his own release, spilling into you. The combined feeling of your cum and his leaking out of you had both of your heads spinning.

To him, it was everything he imagined it would be. He pulled out, breathless at the sight, not even realizing he was moaning at it. Your handcuffs were undone, not that you noticed. You were too fucked out at this point. After he briefly cleaned you up with a warm towel, he pulled you into his arms, keeping you close to him while you relaxed on the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

Guilt started to settle in his chest as he kissed your forehead.

“You’re on the pill, right?” He asked, trying to hide his concern.

“IUD, but yeah. Don’t worry about it.” You felt him relax as you said that. You opened your eyes a crack, then laughed.

“What?”

“The curtains were open,” you laughed dreamily. Leone looks over and sure enough, your curtains were wide open and the window was open just a crack.

“Shit.” He grumbled. He was never going to hear the end of this.

----

Translations:

puttana = slut

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spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 3 years

Text

It Was You All Along (Part 3)

Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04

Author’s note: This one is a bit short, but I was just too excited to post it! Enjoy the angst~

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

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. I’m not really sure if that is good or bad, but at least the hunt Geralt went on was successful and he made some coin. Now, it was Jaskier’s turn.

The tavern owner agreed to let Jaskier perform tonight before we head out in the morning. Honestly, I was looking forward to it. Maybe I could clear my head while listening to him sing.

Geralt and I sat across from each other at a table in the back of the tavern, each of us gripping a mug of ale. Jaskier stood off to the side of the makeshift stage getting his lute ready and adjusting the collar of his doublet.

“Keep staring like that, and your eyes just might freeze,” Geralt muttered over his ale.

I jerked myself out of my stupor and turned to the big oaf in front of me.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Geralt.”

“I’m sure you do.”

I glared at him and turned back to look at Jaskier who was now being announced as the performer for the night. What does Geralt know? Not a damn thing. He’s probably been hit in the head too many times to even remember how to spell his own name. Idiot.

As Jaskier introduced himself to the crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the gaggle of desperate girls in the very front, pointing and giggling while he spoke. It was like that at every tavern, but this time it rubbed me the wrong way. And I really don’t know why.

“What a bunch of morons,” I grumbled into my ale as I brought it to my lips.

I noticed Geralt looking at me over the mug’s rim.

“You should learn to mind your business, Witcher,” I spat at him.

“And you should learn how to read your own feelings.”

What would he know about feelings? Nothing. Nothing at all.

“Piss off, Geralt.”

I’m not really sure where this anger came from. All I knew was that I was frustrated, and I could feel it bubbling inside me. I almost felt like hitting something. Almost...

But when I looked at Jaskier performing, a smile gracing his lips and his hands strumming his lute, that anger disappeared. It was replaced with another feeling. A happier feeling. But also a sad one. I really couldn’t describe it. I had never felt anything like it before. But I liked it. I think I liked it, at least. It made me feel better, to look at Jaskier. His happiness was contagious, and I wanted more of it. I wanted it for myself.

As I watched him, I thought back to this evening in the square, when I caught up to him after the dance and had all those thoughts flitting through my mind. Just recalling them made my heart speed up. And as he finished his rendition of “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher,” my heart sank and my thoughts stopped all at once.

“Oh, gods...”

Geralt glanced at me from the other side of the table with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. My face was on fire as I turned to face the wall.

“Shut up, Geralt, or I’ll cut your hair in your sleep.”

He laughed quietly to himself, a low rumble erupting from his chest. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. He just knew about it before I did.

I was in love with Jaskier.

Said bard moved on to his next song, but I wasn’t really listening. I was staring at the girls that were still fighting for Jaskier’s attention. Is that all it takes? A few brain cells and exposed breasts? Maybe I have more of a chance than I thought I did.

He shot them a wink as he turned on stage, pulling out all the theatrics for this one. I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt by it. But he did it everywhere he performed. It was part of his charm. It was part of what I liked about him, I guess. But every other girl liked it too, and that made my heart feel heavy.

Jaskier finished his set with a flourish, and he made his way over to us. I was on my second mug of ale and Geralt looked as if he was bored to death.

Jaskier plopped down next to me, his doublet slung over his arm, leaving him only in his undershirt. The white fabric clung to him, and sweat glistened on his forehead. But he looked very pleased with himself. And his smile took my breath away.

“So what did you think? Good, yeah?” he asked us as he waived at a server for a drink.

“It was great!”

He turned to me, his chest still heaving a bit from his heavy breathing. The corners of his lips were turned up in a smile, and he looked down at the drink that was set in front of him.

“Thank you, love,” were his words to the woman that brought it to him.

She smiled and left. And I had to keep from glaring at her.

Geralt cleared his throat and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. A hint of the smirk he gave me earlier was reappearing on his face, and my foot shot out to meet his shin underneath the table in response. If it hurt at all, he gave away nothing. He simply stood and looked down at where we still sat.

“I’m going to bed. You should too. If you aren’t up on time, I’ll leave without you.”

And then he was gone. Which meant that it was just me and Jaskier at the table now. Under normal circumstances, this would have been fine. But I was feeling anything but normal at the moment.

Jaskier turned towards me and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it suddenly, looking up at what seemed to be my head.

“Oh, your flower crown has already started wilting! I wonder if there’s any way to save it.”

His lithe fingers, so sure of their movements, reached up to my head and gently grasped the crown. As he took it off, the edge of his knuckles gently grazed my forehead, and the contact made me shiver. Thankfully he didn’t notice because he was looking at the flower crown with genuine concern in his eyes.

“Perhaps you could press the petals in a book to keep them. To remind you of our epic adventures when we are all old and gray!” Jaskier said with a childlike grin.

His words made me smile too, and I took the crown from him gently, my forehead still tingling where his skin made contact with mine.

“Perhaps I will,” I murmured quietly.

It was at that moment that the woman who brought Jaskier his drink earlier approached our table once again. She was very pretty, with her long blonde hair done in a loose braid. She had big doe-like eyes that reflected the soft light of the tavern in their blue irises.

Jaskier glanced up at the movement next to us and when he realized it was a person, he flashed her a smile.

“What can I do for you, darling?”

“You’re Jaskier, right?” she asked excitedly.

“The one and only,” he said with a wink.

“I just- well, I couldn’t help but notice you tonight. Like really notice you.” As her words left her lips, she leaned over the table, her breast a bit exposed at the top of her dress.

“I’m done working for the night, and I was wondering if you wanted to...get to know each other a bit.”

I swear I could feel bile rise in my throat as she talked to him. And it only got worse when he placed his hand over hers on the cracked wood of our corner table.

“All you had to do was ask, love.”

Tears began forming in my eyes and I had to blink rapidly to keep the stinging feeling they brought at bay. The woman giggled and grabbed Jaskier’s hand, pulling him up from his seat.

As they walked away to what I assumed was her room, Jaskier turned to me with a crooked smile and a glint in his eyes.

“Don’t wait up for me!” he yelled back at me.

I sat frozen, clutching the wilting flower crown to my chest to try and bring some sense of comfort to my racing heart. To try and remind myself of the good day I had with my best friend. But it wasn’t working. And long after he left, I was still staring at the spot he had been standing when he gave me his parting words.

“I won’t.”

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I didn’t think I would. My room was right beside Geralt and Jaskier’s and that was all I could think about. Would he even return to his room? Or would he spend the night with that woman from before? I stared at the ceiling as I thought about all this, gripping the blanket a bit too forcefully. When I realized my knuckles were becoming sore, I released the blanket and got out of bed. I’m not sure where I was going, but I just couldn’t sit still anymore.

I glanced out the stained window next to the washtub. It was pitch black, and a few stars twinkled in the night. The stables were right below my room, and I could see Roach in her stall. That made me smile a bit. Lily was two stalls down from her, munching on something. I gave a small laugh, though it sounded more like a clicking noise than anything. I wasn’t truly in the mood for laughing.

Deciding that I needed to move again, I made my way across the room towards the door leading out into the hallway. Maybe I’ll take a walk around to clear my head a bit. As I reached out to grab the door handle, I heard footsteps coming closer. They were heavy and spaced out. Whoever it was walking was not really all there. A drunk perhaps. Maybe I need a drink. That sounds like a good idea...

I cracked the door open to leave, but then I saw who it was stumbling down the hallway. It was Jaskier. Of course it was.

He was leaned against the wall, stepping here and there. He was clearly drunk, as I thought before. His doublet dragged behind him from where it was clutched in his fist, and his shirt was halfway undone and untucked from his pants. Even in the shadows of the night I could see the dark purple marks blooming along his throat and collarbone. Tears threatened to spill over once more, and I decided to close the door.

But before I did, I saw that he made it to his room, and he went in. Then I heard voices. Geralt must have still been awake.

I didn’t really know what I had in mind. All I know is that in a split second, I was on the other side of the room, leaning my ear against the wall that divided me from them.

Surprisingly, I could hear them talking. But I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying because of my pulse pounding in my ears. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down, I closed my eyes and began to concentrate.

“...couldn’t have been any quieter when coming in?”

I heard a scraping sound and a thud. I assume Jaskier sat down in a chair.

“Shut up, Geralt.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” was Geralt’s gruff reply.

My heartbeat picked up again, causing me to only hear bits and pieces of their conversation that followed.

“...wouldn’t understand...what do I do?...”

“You want advice?...grow a pair...stop whining...”

“...seeing her was...bad idea...(Y/N) can’t know...don’t want her...”

I decided I had had enough when I felt tears pricking my eyes for what seemed the millionth time that day. My hands met the wall and pushed the rest of me off. He didn’t want to see me? Is that what he was saying? That it was a bad idea to be around me?

I wasn’t sure if I was more hurt or angry or confused. So I made my way back over to my bed and fell into it with a sigh that felt like I had been holding it in for hours.

I prayed to whatever god was listening that I could sleep tonight without dreams.

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echo-bleu · 4 years

Text

Come Home

This was originally written for the Whumptober prompt “Embrace”, that I posted on AO3 but never here. @spaceskam reminded me it exists the other day... It’s not new, but I didn’t have time to create anything new, so it’s my entry for day 3 of the Missing Alex Manes Weekend ( @alexmanesappreciation).

MAJOR tissue warning. This is not a major character death, but...it comes really close.

[brain cancer, discussions of death, grief/mourning]

“Genocide is the alien's intent for us during a systematic invasion. They're perfectly designed to kill!” Flint exclaims. “One of them can give you a brain tumor just by touching you!”

“Jim Valenti,” Alex blinks in shock. “Did Dad do that?”

“Subject N38 did,” Flint spits out. “They're coming. The question is whether or not we'll be ready.”

Alex shakes his head. “You're just as committed to the cause as our old man.”

“Dad didn't send you, did he,” Flint realizes. “No, Dad would never send you.”

Alex shifts. He sees Flint's hand move toward his holster, to the gun Alex just gave him back, and he prepares to move. It lasts exactly two seconds, until he hears the clicks of more guns cocking. A quick look around him tells him he's surrounded.

How did he miss them coming in?

“I'm sorry, Alex,” Flint says. He truly looks sorry. “We can't let you leave this place with what you know.”

They were here the whole time, Alex realizes. Flint's presence destabilized him and he was careless.

Alex slowly raises his hands, gun held loosely in his right. He's outnumbered one to seven. There's nothing he can do. He just hopes Michael and Kyle will make it out. Oh God, Michael. If they catch him−

He bends down to put the gun on the floor. One of the men−military, all of them, though Flint is in the Army and Alex can spot at least one Marine uniform−comes up to him with handcuffs. Alex doesn't resist.

“Come on,” Flint says.

He leads them to another room, filled with more weapons and equipment. Alex looks almost hungrily at the computers, knowing that he could get all he information he needs right there. But the bulky airman holding his cuffed arm makes him stumble, and he almost falls, barely catching himself. The pain that shoots up Alex's leg brings him straight back to his present situation.

Flint doesn't seem to be aware that Alex is not alone, and things need to stay that way. He needs to keep them away from the surveillance monitors he can see on one side of the room. The only thing Alex can do is give Michael and Kyle time to run, and hope they're not going to play heroes.

He has his doubts about that. There are dozens of aliens kept in cages downstairs, if he's interpreting what he's seeing on the surveillance videos correctly. Michael is never going to leave them here.

Flint is on the phone. Alex can't hear what the other person is saying, but he recognizes the unmistakable patterns of their father's voice. And even if he hadn't, Flint's tone would have told him.

“We captured him breaking into the facility,” Flint explains. “Yes, sir.”

Alex strains to hear his father, but he can't make out the words. Flint suddenly looks hesitant.

“But it's Alex, sir,” he says. “Are you sure?”

Hesitant turns to conflicted. “I would rather not.” Then to resigned. “Very well, sir.”

Flint motions to one of the Airmen to approach, and gives him the phone.

“Master Sergeant?” the man asks. He listens for a moment. “Yes, I will take care of the prisoner, sir. Right away.”

Flint's look at Alex is sorry and sad, but he looks away when Alex makes eye contact. Just from that, Alex knows his fate.

The Airman takes his arm again, roughly, and forces him to walk too fast, too hard. Alex knows there's no point in fighting, but he still struggles against the restraints all the way down to the cells' level, almost falling down the stairs several times.

They stop in front of one of the glass door, and Alex feels his spine go cold at the sight of the old man in it, and the sign on the side of the door. Subject N38.

“Open the door,” the Airman order the guard.

Flint looks away, as they push Alex inside.

Kyle waits until Alex has almost reached his house to drop him off to ask. “What happened back there? Before the explosion, I mean. They got you?”

Alex keeps looking straight in front of him at the road. “For a while, yes,” he answers, forcing the words out. “I'm going to need you to book me an MRI.”

“What?” Kyle asks, confused. “Why?”

“I got confirmation that my father was probably the one who killed yours. By way of an alien. Subject N38,” Alex says. “I'm sorry.”

Kyle opens his mouth, even more confused. “We saw him,” he says. He starts saying something else, but Alex can feel the moment he understands.

“No,” Kyle gasps. “They didn't.”

Alex briefly closes his eyes against the tears threatening to fall. “Flint−” he starts, but his throat knots up. He's going to die by his brother's hand, on his father's order. What a family.

“What didn't you say anything?”

“We had more urgent things to take care of. And you and I both know there's nothing to be done.”

Kyle punches the dashboard. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. We're going to find some way. Maybe Liz and I can−”

“No,” Alex says. “We are not telling anyone about this.”

“But why? If we can cure you−”

“But we can't. Project Shepard needs to be shut off, and the alien serial killer, whoever it is, needs to be stopped. It's far more important.”

“More important than your life?” Kyle asks.

“Be realistic, Kyle. Even if you find something, it's going to do what, slow it down a little? You're not going to cure an alien brain tumor in a few weeks. I'd rather spend those weeks destroying my father's work.”

“So you're gonna make me watch you die like my father, and do nothing about it? And keep it to myself? The fuck I'm gonna do that, Alex.”

“You will,” Alex says, looking at his hands now that he has pulled over and doesn't have the excuse of the road to look away. “You know why I need you to. Look, I know it's not fair, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't have told you at all, but I'm going to need someone who can help me get my affairs in order, and take over when I can't keep going.”

“Alex...” The pure anguish of Kyle's voice almost makes Alex break.

“Please, Kyle.”

“Fuck!” Kyle punches the dashboard again.

“Will you do it?”

Kyle sighs. “Yeah. I'll do it. But I will try to find a cure, and I want it on the record that I don't agree with this.”

“Thank you,” Alex murmurs, relieved. At least one thing he doesn't need to worry about. Kyle will respect his wishes. It's his job, the one he swore to do.

Now he has work to do, before he can let himself collapse.

The first few days, Alex feels fine. Physically, at least. Psychologically...it's another matter. He almost goes to Michael, to tell him everything. In a moment's weakness, he thinks he wants to give them a chance, before it's too late.

Then he thinks of what he would feel if it was Michael in his place, and remembers that Michael just lost his mom. He doesn't go. He spends his time at the base and down in the bunker instead, looking through the data they got at Caulfield.

There's a video of Jim Valenti being pushed into Subject N38's cell, and Alex throws up when he watches it. He doesn't know if it's because it's his father's face on the screen, of if the tumor that's already visible on the MRI is starting to affect him.

It's growing inside his head. His own death.

He can't feel it yet.

Alex and Kyle catch up with the Noah problem after the fact, when Liz calls them in panic and they find her hugging Max's dead body, and a very alive Rosa looking on, confused.

Max doesn't stay dead long. The storm is going strong again outside, and Isobel is the one who figures out how to channel the lightning into Max's body. He's been dead longer than a human could have gone pumping blood, but then he's not human. He gets off lightly, just weak and sore for a few weeks.

Hugging Rosa, Alex reminds himself that he's not going to get the same chance, and he wants to cry. He thought he could handle it, die in dignity like he always hoped he would, but this isn't combat. This isn't one gunshot and−gone.

It's weeks, months of waiting for the inevitable end.

It's going to be ugly.

He looks at Kyle across the room, who is looking back at him sadly. Kyle always looks at him sadly, now.

Alex is glad none of the others know.

Five days after Rosa is resurrected, Alex walks into the Wild Pony, hoping to drown his sorrows for a while, and he finds Michael kissing Maria behind the counter. It's a punch to the gut.

Only as he backs out of the door, deciding he'll do his drinking at home, Alex realizes that it doesn't feel like he thought he would. Michael is lost to him anyway. He's planning to leave the planet, and Alex won't even live long enough to see him go. He thought his heart would break. But his heart is already in too many pieces to break more.

He can't help the jealousy, but it's a relief too, somehow. If Michael has moved on, if he's happy with Maria, then Alex's death won't destroy him.

He hopes Michael will forget him, once he's gone.

He gets drunk enough that he doesn't remember the rest of the night.

He wakes up to Kyle's knock at his door. Kyle has come like clockwork every morning before his shift, making the two-hour round trip to check on Alex. Alex keeps telling him it's not necessary, but he won't budge on this.

Alex tries to clear his head of the hangover, going to open the door on crutches.

“How long did it take, for your father?” he asks, before he even realizes how insensitive it is. But he needs some kind of time frame. He's avoided thinking about it so far, about how many months or weeks he has−how many days.

Kyle runs a hand down his face. “Alex...” he mutters. “I can't do this right now. Come sit down.”

Alex obeys, but he still pushes. “Please.”

Kyle sighs. “He died March 9th, and the worst of the symptoms started in late February.”

“Time stamp on the video said February 15th,” Alex mutters. “Less than a month.”

“You said yourself that he was in the cell a lot longer than you,” Kyle says. “You may have more time.”

Alex looks up at him. A month. He has a month left to live, maybe two if he's lucky. It's been six days already.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “This has to be so hard on you.”

Kyle laughs humorlessly. “I'm not the one−” who's dying, Alex can fill in, but Kyle's voice breaks as his laugh turns into a sob.

Alex's eyes are dry as he hugs his friend. He feels cold.

“Where is he?” Michael almost barrels into Kyle. “Where is Alex?”

Kyle sighs. “I don't think he wants to see anyone,” he says.

“Why? Is it bad? What is wrong with him?” Michael asks, panicking.

Kyle bites his lip. He promised, but he's pretty sure the cat is already out of the bag. Instead of answering, he nods to the door of Alex's hospital room behind them. Michael doesn't even hesitate before he knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Alex says, his stomach feeling like lead. Him collapsing in the middle of the Crashdown Café was bound to come back to his friends' ears, but he'd hoped for more time. It's been twenty one days since Caulfield, and he's been hiding the bouts of nausea and dizziness, the blinding headaches, for over a week now. He's running out of time.

He fiddles with his IV as Michael comes in. The truth is, he'd hoped he'd be able to hide it until the end, to avoid making his friends go through this. But it's unfair to Kyle to ask him to carry this on his own any longer, and the choice has been made for him by his traitorous body anyway.

“Alex! What happened?” Michael asks, coming closer.

Alex sighs. He wants so hard to say it's nothing−he wants it to be true. He doesn't know how to announce it.

“Alex, please. You're scaring me.”

“I had a frontal lobe seizure,” Alex explains. He chokes up on the rest.

“What does that mean?”

“The seizure itself is nothing bad, but it happened because...I have a brain tumor.”

“What?” Michael gapes. He drops into the chair beside Alex's bed. Alex bring his good leg up to his chin and wraps his arms around it, trying to distance himself. He thought this would hurt less if Michael was with Maria, but he heard they broke up a week ago.

“In Caulfield...my brother Flint got to me. He...my father ordered him to take me to Subject N38.”

“No,” Michael shakes his head. “No.”

Alex looks away.

“The tumor's already grown enough for symptoms to appear, so I don't have a lot of time left,” he says, as matter-of-factly as he can.

The look on Michael's face in unbearable. Raw pain, purer that anything Alex has ever felt. He closes his eyes, unable to stand it.

“No, it's not right,” Michael mutters. “You can't−” He chokes.

“I'm sorry,” Alex says.

Michael swallows several times. “How long have you known?”

“Since the day it happened,” Alex answers quietly. “You had so much on your plate.”

“Who else knows?”

“Kyle. Liz found out today, and now you.”

Telling Liz was painful and hard and sad, but it doesn't even start to compare to this. Alex dreaded this moment for a reason.

It takes Michael almost five whole minutes to break down. Alex leans in to allow him to bury his head in his shoulder. He hoped for anger, almost. Rage. He wants Michael to scream at him for not telling him sooner, he wants…

Anything but this.

Because he can't stand Michael's pain. Because this is what drives it home.

He's going to die. Not someday, not maybe, not even probably.

He's going to die, and he'll spend the little time he has left watching his body give out on him.

Feeling cold and numb, he waits until Michael's heart-wrenching sobs start to abate to speak again.

“When I was injured in Iraq, I was certain that I was going to die. The whole building collapsed on me, and I was trapped and pinned down. The whole time, I was thinking about you, and I regretted that we never got to make things right. It feels a bit like...like I was given a little more time, somehow, to get back to you.”

Michael pulls back to look at him, his face streaked with tears.

“Alex−”

“But it also means that I've been living on borrowed time, for almost a year,” Alex continues. “I'm so glad I got the chance to see you again. To learn who you really are, even. That we got a little time together.”

Michael lets out another sob.

“But I'm running out of time,” Alex continues. “And you've moved on. It's a good thing. It will be easier for me to go, if I know that you're going to be okay.”

Michael shakes his head vigorously in denial.

“I haven't moved on,” he says. “I went to Maria because it was easier. It didn't hurt.”

“Loving me hurts?” Alex asks, but he already knows the answer. Of course it does. What has he brought to Michael but pain?

“Not loving you. But being with you. Being without you. We just kept hurting each other. I was running. I wanted to get away from the pain.”

“I know,” Alex murmurs. “It hurt, to see you with Maria, but I understand.”

“You're...knowing that you're dying, it feels like...” Michael makes a gesture when words fail him. “The end of the world. But I've also realized how wrong I was.”

“About what?”

“Loving you is worth all the pain in the world. I didn't realize it sooner, and I'm so sorry.”

Alex chokes up. “No, Michael, I am sorry. For leaving, every time. And I'm sorry that I'm going to leave you again.” Because this time I would have stayed, Alex doesn't add. There's no point in making this even more painful for Michael.

Michael makes a wounded animal sound, hugging Alex again.

“You know what?” he says after a bit. “We're gonna make the most of the time we've got, okay?”

“I'm going to be very sick,” Alex bites his lip.

“And I'm going to take care of you. Starting right now.”

Michael stands up, untangling his hands from Alex, who lies back into his pillow, exhausted. Michael dries his face with his sleeve, then gives Alex one more look, heartbreakingly gentle.

“Valenti!” he calls, going to open the door.

“What?” Kyle responds from where Alex assumes he's still sitting with Liz.

“Does he need to be in the hospital?”

Kyle comes over to the door where Alex can see him. “In here we can at least check on his vitals−”

“Is there anything you can actually do?” Michael asks, his voice rising in irritation.

Kyle makes a grimace, like he hates what he's going to say. “Keep him comfortable?”

“I doubt he'll ever be comfortable in a hospital bed,” Michael shakes his head. “Can I take him home?”

Kyle looks between him and Alex for a moment before he makes a decision. “Yes. I'll come check on you as much as I can. Just let me get you the discharge papers.”

“I'm going to be with you until the end,” Michael says when he's gone. “I promise.”

Alex doesn't know whether to be heartbroken or relieved. He shivers, and Michael snuggles up against him on the bed, warming him up.

“Kyle and I looked over your scans,” Liz says a couple of days later, when she and Kyle visit Alex at the cabin. They've been working non-stop since everyone found out. “We're going by the progression of the tumor, and Jim Valenti's medical file to try and predict what will happen.”

“I already know what will happen,” Alex shrugs.

“We wanted to have a more precise time scale. Look, Alex, I still don't get why you didn't tell me earlier, but what Kyle found shows some promise.”

“There's no time to test it, or implement it,” Alex says. He and Kyle have spoken about it many times. “Even with your genius, Liz, I'll be dead long before you manage to make it into a cure.”

“Maybe not,” Liz says. “We have the pods. We can keep you in stasis for a while, long enough enough to figure it out.”

“It could be years. And we don't know that it would even work.”

“Don't you want to try? It may be your only chance.”

“It's a slim one at best. I don't want to give up on what little time I have left for a fool's hope.”

Liz and Kyle exchange a look. Kyle takes a deep breath.

“Listen,” he says. “I watched my father die. I wasn't there the whole time, but I was there at the end, and I watched him suffer. It was...excruciating.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Alex frowns. “I already know that.”

“Because...you're at the end your rope here. From here on, it will be nothing but pain. Your sight will be the first to go, but the tumor has already metastasized all over your body, on your bones, your organs… The other day was just the first symptom.”

“It wasn't,” Alex shakes his head. “I've been feeling ill and sore for a while.”

Kyle closes his eyes. “It's only going to get worse from there.”

“I know.”

“Do you really want to go through this?” Liz asks.

Alex sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “No, Liz, of course I don't. But I don't have a choice, do I? Not a real one.”

“We could−” Liz hesitates. “Maybe there's a middle ground. By our estimation, you have another two weeks, maybe, before the tumor's damage will be permanent, even if we were to find a cure. If we manage to make real progress during that time, would you let us put you in stasis? And just...I don't know, we can promise you to bring you out after a certain length of time if we don't manage to make a cure if you really want. I understand that you don't want to end up in there forever, I mean, with the whole thing with Rosa… But we can't lose you, Alex. Not like that.”

Alex closes his eyes. We can't lose you isn't helpful. They will. They'll lose him, and they need to be ready. He doesn't believe that Liz can make the cure, not really.

He still wants to hold on to that sliver of hope.

“Okay,” he says slowly. “If you have something promising by then, I'll let you put me in a pod. Just...you have a year. Swear that if you don't have a cure by then, you'll get me out and let me go.”

Liz has tears falling down her face as she murmurs, “I promise. One year. I'll figure it out.”

“No, don't promise that. You know you can't. Promise me that you won't leave me in that pod forever.”

“One year,” she says. “Then we take you out. Whatever the outcome.”

Alex turns to Kyle, who nods solemnly, swallowing back his own tears.

He waits until he's alone to break down.

It's better this way.

They have five days of near peace. Alex's pain is managed well enough with strong painkillers, and though he has energy for little else than sleep or rest on the couch, at least he's fairly comfortable.

He discovers that Michael is a pretty good cook, if you give him an actual kitchen. He can't keep much food down anymore, but he tries to eat anyway, just to taste it.

He falls asleep in Michael's arms, or to the sound of Michael's guitar. Alex would love to sing for him, but he doesn't have enough voice left in him. He's glad Michael has his music back. It's something, at least. Maybe Alex will not live to see his father brought to justice, but he'll leave something right.

The fight has gone out of them, and all that's left is tenderness, tinged with grief. Where their relationship was once fireworks and crash landings, it's now soft and bittersweet. They don't argue. They don't need to communicate much even, which is good as Alex progressively loses the energy to speak. They cuddle up together when Alex is cold, which is most of the time.

There's no fear of the future. Not of that future, anyway, the one they both dreamed of so much that they pushed each other away because they were terrified of screwing up. It's gone. They only have a few days, and the best they can do is be together.

They both try their best not to think of after. Alex has handed the Project Shepard work to Kyle entirely, since he can barely get out of bed anymore, and his affairs are in order, so he tries to let go and live in the moment. Actually live each moment he has left.

Michael still can't imagine a world−a universe−that doesn't have Alex in it. The only muddled thought he has is that he'll finish his spaceship and get away from this planet. Permanently.

But for now, he holds Alex in his arms and watches him sleep, and he tries very hard not to think.

For Michael, the worst moments somehow aren't when Alex cries from the pain in his arms. It's sitting in a corner of the room when Maria and Liz visit Alex, who can barely sit up in bed anymore, and they try to laugh and smile through the tears. It's watching Alex's face fall when he opens an invitation to one of his Air Force friends' wedding with trembling hands, and they both know he won't be alive by the wedding date. It's feeling like he's mourning Alex before he's even dead.

Dead. The nausea settles deeper in Michael's stomach every time he thinks about it−he doesn't think about anything else. At this point, as he watches Alex suffer so much, he almost wishes he was safe and painless in a pod. But he also can't imagine living in a world where Alex isn't there.

On the sixth day, Alex wakes up screaming in pain.

Michael immediately jumps up and cups his face in his hands, trying to calm Alex down enough to get pills down him, but nothing helps. Alex feels like his whole body is on fire.

It doesn't start to abate until Alex is hooked to the highest dose of morphine that won't outright kill him, and even then, as he sleeps, his face is lined with pain.

“Either the tumor's reached some nerve center, or the metastases on his spine have gone through the bone and into the nervous system,” Kyle diagnoses. “Either way, there's nothing I can do except try to relieve the pain.”

“Nothing?” Michael asks, desperate.

“No. We may have less time than we thought.”

Alex still won't go into a pod, though. The pain is worth a little more time with Michael. With all of his friends. He's not ready to go.

He doesn't believe, in his heart, that he'll even come out if he does. So he fights for another day.

When he opens his eyes to see a large black spot in the middle of his vision, Alex knows it's the end. This is what Liz and Kyle told him about, the beginning of the permanent damage. If he doesn't go into a pod now, they probably won't be able to fix him even if they find a cure. He has a decision to make.

It's been twelve days since he ended up in the hospital, two days off their mark. Liz and Kyle haven't come up with some amazing cure, or even a good idea about one. And Alex has run out of time.

Weakly, he shakes Michael's arm to wake him up.

“Alex?” Michael asks sleepily.

“It's time,” Alex rasps. He's barely been able to speak for days, and no more than one or two words at a time.

Michael sits up, suddenly wide awake.

“The pod?” he asks.

Alex nods.

They've prepared for this, but it doesn't make it easier. Michael doesn't cry as he gets dressed, and texts everyone. He doesn't cry as he gently removes Alex's IV, hoping the dose of morphine he has in his blood will be enough to tide him over until−

Fuck. He does cry as he picks Alex up, his underweight, frail body limp in his arms. Alex doesn't stop staring at him, his eyes dropping but alert. He cries as he straps Alex in the passenger seat of the car, pulling it back so he's as comfortable as possible.

He can barely see the road, as he drives to the turquoise mines. He steers with one hand, the other squeezing Alex's, and they stay silent.

Michael has already said everything he can say that doesn't make him want to curl up into a little ball.

He carries Alex again, refusing to use his telekinesis, into the pod cave. The others are already here, Liz ready with the melted silver. Michael puts Alex down on the blanket she's prepared and pulls his head into his lap.

One by one, they come to say goodbye, and it feels far too much like a funeral. Isobel and Max, who know Alex the least, stay politely away, Isobel only squeezing both his and Michael's shoulder with teary eyes. Maria and Liz are openly crying as they hug Alex one last time, and he struggles to say his goodbyes.

“We didn't get to spend much time together, mijo” Rosa tells Alex, kissing his brow. “I hope you come back like me and we get to hang out.”

Kyle looks devastated when Alex makes him promise again, but he obeys. “We'll pull you out in a year at the latest. You can trust me.”

Alex nods, relieved, and smiles up at him. “You were...a good friend,” he rasps out.

Kyle lets out a sob. “You're the best friend I've ever had, Alex,” he murmurs.

Alex hugs him weakly, and he falls back down into Michael's lap when Kyle lets him go, his body even limper, letting out a pained moan. The painkillers are running out.

“'s time,” Alex mouths.

Michael moves him as little as possible while undressing him, and Kyle helps him spread the silver over Alex's body. Liz and Maria watch on, crying in each other's arms.

Lying in Michael's embrace, tears running down both of their faces, Alex tries to imprint that moment into his memories. It's not going to matter. In a few minutes, he'll be in stasis for an indefinite amount of time, and almost no chance of ever coming out of the coma it's going to put him in. His memories will scatter away like they never meant anything.

He's glad that he gets to die in Michael's arms, but he wishes he'd gotten the time to live with him.

“I love you,” Michael sobs.

“Love...you too,” Alex forces out. “Be...happy.”

Michael closes his eyes briefly, and kisses him as softly as he can. His hands don't leave Alex skin until he's inside the pod fully, and his eyes drop closed.

Leaning his brow on the membrane of the pod, he lets the sobs wrack his body as Isobel comes to hold him.

One year later.

Liz checks her watch before she enters the Wild Pony. It's late already. She didn't see the time pass in her lab. She'll need to make up for all the time she's spent researching things that have little to do with her actual job, but she can do that later. For now, she's on a mission.

Maria is behind the bar, and she beckons her over, nodding to the place where Michael is sitting, his head in one hand, nursing a glass of what looks like Coke with the other. He stopped drinking alcohol months ago, but now he looks like he's in need of a stiff drink or two.

Or of some good news.

“Michael,” Liz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Liz,” Michael raises his head. The pain in his eyes is nearly unbearable. “We've run out of time. It will be a year tomorrow.”

Liz swallows. “I think I've got it, Michael. I think I've got a cure.”

Michael stares at her for a while, uncomprehendingly. “You−”

“I'm not 100% certain, it doesn't work like that, but...I think so. I can save Alex.”

“Oh thank God,” Maria murmurs, as Michael gapes in shock. He bites down on his finger, hard, tears already falling from his eyes.

Liz gathers him in her arms before he falls off his stool and hugs him hard.

It's been a long, hard year, for all of them.

“The compound I've designed will act as a sort of chemotherapy,” Liz explains later, when they've all gathered in the pod cave. Michael is kneeling in front of Alex's pod−the one that used to be his−his head against the membrane, in the same position he's been in so often, but he's listening. “It's based on the same technology that Flint Manes and his team used to make the biochemical bomb.”

Finding the compound where the bomb was stored was their largest breakthrough in the last six months, as well as the official end of Project Shepard. All three aliens agreed that despite its danger to them, the bomb should not be destroyed if it could help Alex.

“It will take several injections and a few months to get rid of the tumor, but the chances that it will work with minimal damage to Alex are good. Unlike chemotherapy, this will be able to target only the alien cells in his body, so it shouldn't be dangerous for his health, though I can't guarantee there won't be side effects.”

“He will live?” is all Michael asks.

“He will.”

“Then do it.”

Liz looks around the room. Kyle is technically Alex's medical proxy, thought those rules don't really apply here. He nods, too, hope shining in his eyes, finally overpowering the guilt and grief that have never left him. Maria smiles at them, reassuringly.

“Max, I'm going to need you,” Liz says. “I know you can't heal him, but the tumor is technically injuring his brain at this point, and it's a foreign body, so I'm hoping you can keep it at bay long enough for the treatment to start working.”

“I'll do my best,” Max nods.

“We have plenty of acetone,” Isobel adds.

“Kyle?”

“I'll handle the IV,” Kyle says, coming closer. “You do the initial injection.”

Liz nods, checking the syringe in her hands.

“Michael, we're all ready,” she says.

Michael takes a deep breath, and plunges his silver-stained hands into the pod. In seconds, he has a naked, warm, sleeping Alex lying in his lap.

“Hey,” he murmurs as Liz and Max buzz around him. Alex blinks his eyes open. “It's time to come home.”

#roswell new mexico #alex manes #michael guerin #malex #missingalexmanes #malex fic #liz ortecho #kyle valenti #mine #echo's fanfiction #whumptober2019

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teatitty · 4 years

Text

Jailhouse Rock

A/N: Hey remember when I said I wanted to write a traditional fantasy AU with Patrochilles and DiarCu? This is based in that. I hate copy-pasting things to tumblr bc it never keeps my italics and I’m too lazy to edit this so here it is on AO3 as well

Days of peace were rare for Patroclus; even rarer still were the days without Achilles or Cu Chulainn around to stir up mischief. On his own, Patroclus liked to think he was a perfect example of good behaviour and that his own troublemaking was nothing more than a direct result of knowing two of the biggest arseholes this side of the continent, but whenever he voiced such a thing out loud, the response from his companions was always an intense roll of the eyes and a bark of laughter, so maybe he was just lying to himself.

Given his current predicament, that certainly seemed to be the case. In retrospect, he should’ve figured he’d end up getting arrested one of these days, but when you spend most of your time in the company of two people who somehow - consistently - manage to get themselves out of trouble, well, you sort of forget that consequences for your actions are a thing you need to worry about.

In his own defense, he hadn’t planned on getting arrested. It isn’t much of a defense, because he cannot recall a single person who has ever wanted to get thrown into a jail cell with shackles on their wrists (it didn’t matter that his own had been taken off earlier, it mattered that they’d bothered to put any on him in the first place), but he also hasn’t met every single person on the planet, so he supposes the defense counts for something.

He wonders who Achilles will be angrier at when he finds out about this; Patroclus, for punching the stupid fucking Guard in the face and breaking his pompous nose, or the Guard himself, for calling re-inforcements and manhandling Patroclus into this dingy, damp little cell. It’s not a matter of if Achilles will find out, so much as when he finds out, and Patroclus can only hope it’s soon, because he’s only been in here for a few hours and he’s already bored out of his god-damned mind.

The Guards posted outside of his cell won’t even talk to him. It’s extremely rude, in his opinion, not to entertain a guest when they’re groaning pitifully on the floor, even if said groaning was mostly due to the head pain. He really needs to learn the name of the Guard who clonked him. Bastard had a real mean arm and Patroclus itches to get some sort of revenge for the hit.

Alas, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be getting that information anytime soon. He’ll just have to track the guy down once he gets sprung from this place and then clonk them from behind and see how they like it.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if you ask me, I did you all a favour. I mean, he just has one of those voices, you know? The really annoying ones? The ones that just invite you to hit someone?” Nothing. Typical. Patroclus sighs up at the ceiling with exaggerated effort. “I love our little talks. Can’t get enough of them, truly.”

Maybe, if he talks long enough, one of them will actually tell him to shut up instead of just trying to glare holes into him through their helmets. Patroclus snorts at the thought. If that worked, then Achilles would’ve been dead a hundred times over by now. Or just covered in a lot more scars than he already has. Which is none. Obviously. Ugh, he really needs to get better company.

As if the Gods themselves heard his plea and were, for once in their lives, actually offering to help him, a commotion from the halls causes him to sit up with immense interest, and the Guards by his cell close their eyes and actually groan.

Whoever is being led - in chains? Sounds like it - down the hall, everyone clearly knows them, because even the other prisoners, who’ve been silent until now, start murmuring curses to themselves.

Finally, Patroclus thinks, some variety.

“ - I just think that in the grand scheme of things - and purely for everyone else’s interest, of course - that stealing a few rings from the locals isn’t that big of a deal when I’m just going to be selling them later. I’m helping the economy! Helping you pass money from one hand to another and get it circulating. How’s your wife, by the way, is she still getting the bad cramps? Of course she is. I can see it in your face. You really should take my advice and -”

“Diarmuid.” A Guard has never sounded so long-suffering before.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and get in the damn cell.”

Surprisingly enough, with a huge stroke of good fortune, the cell that this blessing in disguise - Diarmuid, his name is Diarmuid, Patroclus reminds himself. He’s never been very good at names - is dancing his way into, happens to be Patroclus’ very own, and he finds himself looking at a man who is decidedly, one hundred percent, not human at all.

Patroclus grins, absolutely delighted by this turn of events. Diarmuid, noticing that he is not alone in this cell, cocks his head to the side and just sort of. Stands there. Presumably blinking at him, but it’s hard to tell behind the tinted glasses perched on his nose. “Oh my gods,” Patroclus says before he can stop himself, “are you an elf?”

“No,” replies Diarmuid slowly. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“He’s a menace,” one of the Guards mutters and Patroclus’ grin only widens.

“I knew you could talk,” he tells them and then to Diarmuid he says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to say something.”

“Oh,” Diarmuid says, “I’m not hallucinating then.”

“Not used to having company?”

“Not usually.”

He looks - well, if Patroclus had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Diarmuid looks completely out of his depth. “Don’t worry,” Patroclus tells him. “I don’t bite.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. He doesn’t bite usually but all bets are off when tavern brawls happen.

Diarmuid’s nose wrinkles. “Is that a hickey?”

It is, actually, though it’s a wonder he can see it at all amidst the other bruising. “I don’t bite,” Patroclus repeats, “but my boyfriend’s a bit of a dick.”

Something in Diarmuid’s posture relaxes at that admission, which is very interesting, and Patroclus pats the spot beside himself invitingly. He’s actually surprised when Diarmuid sits next to him. He’s less surprised that there’s an obvious gap being kept between them and that, unlike himself, Diarmuid’s posture remains straight and alert.

“Soooo…” Patroclus starts, “what are you in for?”

“That’s the best you could do, huh?”

Oh, a snarky one is he? Good thing Patroclus is used to that, or he might actually find this guy irritating. “What do you want me to start with, then? The fact that you’re apparently a regular visitor here? That you probably know everyone’s first names and family histories?”

“I wish he didn’t,” mutters the other Guard forlornly.

“Shut up,” hisses the first one, “don’t encourage them.”

“Too late for that,” they say in unison. The Guards curse.

There’s a long beat of silence as Patroclus waits to see if Diarmuid will reply to his earlier question. His patience pays off when, finally, Diarmuid sighs and says, “I got caught selling stolen goods for twice the profit.”

Patroclus whistles. “Impressive.” He means it. Sure, he got caught doing it, but the fact he had the balls to try at all - and, by the sounds of it, actually managed to make some of said profit - is worth applauding.

“And you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Broke someone’s nose.”

“Holy shit,” Diarmuid breathes, “you’re the guy who finally shut Claudius’ trap up?”

“His name is Claudius?” A nod. “No wonder he’s such a dick, then. Hey! Tell your boss that I don’t regret what I did, alright? With a name like that, he had it coming to him!”

“You’re going to get a longer sentence if you do that.” Diarmuid sounds amused as anything. Patroclus grins back at him. He wonders how long Diarmuid’s sentence is and how many times he’s gotten his way out of it.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

“Because of your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucky,” Diarmuid whines. “I have to rely on my natural charm, and here you are getting Out Of Jail cards for free.”

They’re only ‘free’ if you don’t count the cost on Patroclus’ brain cell capacity, because for all that he loves Achilles with his entire soul, his boyfriend is, in fact, an idiot, and this has only seemed to get worse since they met Cu Chulainn a few years back. How does that saying go again? ‘Birds of a feather flock together?’

What does it say about him that he’s part of this flock? Nothing good, probably, so best not to think too much about it.

“Are you a vampire?”

“Okay, now you’re just naming every creature with pointy ears.”

Patroclus slumps down in his seat. “I don’t have much else to go on.” And it doesn’t look like Diarmuid is going to willingly give him any hints. “A dragonborn, maybe?”

Alright, maybe that one's a little bit of a deep cut, given how rare they are these days, but, hey, if he’s going for every race with pointed ears then…

“Also,” he continues, “you’re not a ‘creature’ you’re just a different race to a human.”

“Flattering,” Diarmuid says dryly. Patroclus doesn’t really get how any of that is ‘flattering’ in any way, shape or form but then what does he know? He’s human, after all, so maybe he really has just said something that - whatever. Doesn’t matter. He’s making friends! Cu will be so proud of him.

Does he have a concussion? Probably. None of his thoughts are making any sense today.

“I’m not a dragonborn.”

Okay, strike two off the list.

“Or a vampire.”

Strike three.

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t just relying on ‘ears pointy’ because that...really doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot. Are there really that many races with pointed ears? How has he never noticed this before? “You sure you’re not an elf? Or, like, elf adjacent?”

“If you were anyone else,” says Diarmuid, “I would’ve hit you for that. Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure you’re just a mouthy moron like I am, so congrats on saving your own skin, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” he grins.

Diarmuid snorts. Progress is being made. Fuck yeah. “You’re not used to being in a cell, are you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“First time?”

Oh now that’s just too easy a line to pass up. “Being in the company of a gorgeous man like yourself?” His lashes flutter and Diarmuid actually looks a little bit bewildered. “Hardly.”

“You...have a boyfriend.”

Astute of him.

“I do,” he agrees. “We have a comfortable and confident relationship.” By which he means that they’re allowed to flirt with whoever they want, whenever they want, it’s just dating and sex that are off limits until further discussion. Diarmuid - doesn’t really seem to get what he means. Which. Okay then. “Flirting is fine,” he clarifies with an easy tone.

“Oh.”

He still sounds a bit miffed by the whole thing so, in an effort to bring them back to their earlier comfort levels, Patroclus says, “lets play a game.”

Diarmuid stares at him. “A game,” he repeats.

“Just something to pass the time.”

“Am I going crazy or are you always like this?”

“It’s just me.” He feels no embarrassment in admitting it either. His mouth often moves faster than his brain can catch up, or his brain will move faster than his mouth, and rarely do they ever operate at the same capacity as each other. He forgets that not everyone can keep up with his rapid changes in conversation. Achilles’ mother is the only one who can understand him all of the time, but she’s back home in her river, so he has to - make an effort to slow down a little bit here.

How annoying.

“Ever heard of 21 Questions?”

The silence continues for long enough this time that Patroclus is almost completely certain he’s just gotten rejected. Diarmuid sighs. “Sure. I reserve the right to refuse answering anything personal, though.”

For all his earlier chatter, he’s surprisingly guarded and private. This, along with his keeping his own race a secret, intrigues Patroclus a lot more than it should. There’s a dull and distant warning bell ringing in his head; caution, it screeches, CAUTION.

“I reserve the same thing, then.”

Diarmuid blows some hair out of his face and, presumably, rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. His lip twitches into a smile. Generously, Patroclus lets him go first. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, startled, and then laughs. “Oh I’m such an idiot,” he says and then holds out his hand. Diarmuid is wearing leather gloves under his shackles. Interesting. “It’s Patroclus. Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip is a little firmer than Patroclus expected but nowhere near the strength of Cu Chulainn’s. Which is a bit of an unfair comparison considering Cu’s specific bloodline but. Well. He doesn’t have a whole lot of non-human references to go on. Diarmuid holds himself as though he’s waiting to get shanked in the gut and Patroclus, ever so politely, asks, “what’s your favourite drink?”

Diarmuid blinks. “What?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger. “Not your turn to ask a question.”

“...tequila,” Diarmuid says at last.

“Oh that’s strong! I thought you might be an ale drinker, what with all the leathers and the -” he gestures to the window of the cell, hoping to encompass the city as a whole.

“Ah,” says Diarmuid. “Ale’s too bitter for me.”

“And tequila isn’t?”

His lip quirks. “Not your turn.”

“Right you are! Continue, then.”

“Who's your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Achilles.”

Diarmuid promptly chokes, as do the Guards outside. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean - you can’t mean -”

Patroclus inclines his head, delighted by the reaction. Achilles is famous here! Who knew!

“Holy shit.” Diarmuid’s voice raises a few octaves. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I doubt it,” says Patroclus dryly. “He’s more likely to whine about me getting better prison company than he did.”

“I’m not talking about Achilles,” hisses Diarmuid. “I’m talking about Cu Chulainn!”

Wait.

Wait a second.

Patroclus takes a step back to examine the man before him. Dark, curly hair? Check. A penchant for getting arrested? From what he can gather, check. Pointy ears? Absolutely. And -

He leans closer to try and get a whiff of whatever scent Diarmuid carries.

-- the distinct smell of a winter breeze.

A lot of different things fall into place at once.

“You’re the friend that Cu’s been looking for. The one that lost his favourite jacket.”

“I’m dead,” says Diarmuid. “I’ve been trying to get it back for him and now I’m going to die before I get the chance.”

“Is that why you were selling stolen goods?”

Reluctantly, Diarmuid nods. “I know where it is,” he admits mulishly. “I just don’t have the money to buy it back.”

Patroclus thinks this over. He doesn’t have any money either. Fuck it, he thinks, we’re already criminals anyway.

“Okay,” he says. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll help you get it back.”

“Don’t even try it,” warns Guard number one.

Diarmuid gives Patroclus a pathetically hopeful look. “You will?”

“Yes. On the condition,” he continues, “that you return it to him in person.”

“You know where he is.”

“I know where he is.”

Diarmuid considers this for all of two seconds. “Deal.”

And then he slips out of his shackles and shatters the fucking window with them.

#fate series #my writing #2.6K words of crack tbh #i dont know what this is please just take it

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incarnateirony · 4 years

Note

(1.) I like your new format! and (b) I've been thinking about the idea of the end being Cas reordering heaven and Dean being able to choose to be with him there and thinking about why that upset me so much. I think my first reaction was not so much to your outline thoughts, and their hermetic/alchemy base (which i don't pretend to grasp fully), but more to doraspn's read - i hate the idea that someone who has battled a life of trauma, depression and low self-worth can only find peace in death 1/

/part2/ I know it's before Dabberens era, but Dean has twice refused the "peace" option (4.23 when Cas offers it, and s11 when Amara does), plus his character is deeply tied in to the earthy and sensory - food, sex, touch etc. And the show seems (to me) to be saying Cas is moving towards staying - on earth with Dean, maybe as human... Also those Matrix Reloaded videos left me tied in knots! Not sure what I'm asking here, but perhaps for some more of your thoughts. Enjoying this thinky stuff

Hi Nonnie! Lots to reply to here.

1. Re: format; Thanks! I’m still fishing around for some material to make a few more sliders congealing around P3, 4, 5, and SPN’s Shadow; and one around The Matrix, SPN and P5, but for the most part it’s done and I fixed most of the troublesome parts of the first time I converted to a layout like this (eg it hiding text/captions/etc on galleries and forcing them into single image columns)

2. I can recognize your upset with @doraspn‘s phrasing. Personally, from my many conversations with them, I don’t think they intended it the way it came across, but I’m not them, nor will I speak for them. I’m more the kind that tries to presume good faith in readings but I can understand why the phrasing/presentation was hurtful.

3. Eg, the rest.

You mentioned confusion both at the alchemical pathwork and at the Matrix stuff, so let me try a few different angles here. It’s gonna be a bit of a ride. I understand if you can’t soak it all due to personal processing, but see what you can grok from these collective videos I’ve made over the past few years. And yes, the songs are even chosen intentfully. If you have trouble following both in audio, feel free to google the song names for lyrics. After linking them, I’ll discuss a bit.

Parabol & Parabola by Tool (made midseason S14)

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46 & 2 by Tool (made post 14.20 following Lateralus Project theme P&P was built in midseason)

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These videos tackle two highly related topics in Supernatural.

Let it be said: obviously this isn’t an endorsement to run out and die because Fuck All, but let’s just say within the suprastructure of the show that we’re watching;

Andrew Dabb made a comment everybody has been panicking about, that the “death toll will be massive.” I, on the other hand, have a huge mood of “and?” and I think that baffles people how I can mutually suspect a fairly happy or positive ending (if bittersweet in parts) while shrugging that off.

So my simple question, partnered to ideas like Parabol & Parabola, is... should we really fear Death in Supernatural? If we were talking about proverbial death tolls, if Life Is A Highway, and Death and Life are two faces of the same coin, were Death Toll a form of taxation on the highway of life and death, Sam, Dean and their immediate confidants personal crossing past that line, over and back again (consider, if you will, the concept alongside Parabol & Parabola closer to the concept of reincarnation), they’re probably singlehandedly fixing the potholes and keeping the reaper structure online, pfff.

I mean, I use that phrasing loosely. But nothing and in no way has Death been presented as a true end; if anything, it is a point of new beginning. Okay, so humans go to heaven or hell or get stuck on earth and go crazy. And? The Winchesters and co power through that and find a new direction and a new purpose. Neither Death nor God can destrsoy or create souls -- only humans can destroy human souls, be it sacrificing their own for power or torturing each other in hell until the One True Thing, the light that makes them good (and like Jack, without it, is the Absence of Good) goes out, leaving only absence of that kind of spark, and similarity to Amara in her absence of god’s light.

Death, and God, and all these other things can find ways to box up souls, put them in suitcases or jars or trap them, or in the case of heaven, like MichaelDean’s headspace, give them contentment in heaven that pacifies them into not pursuing more, but in the end, where do they come from and to where do they go? Think to the 46 & 2 video and watch it a few times if you have to.

The concept of Shadow, Animus, Anima, Self and Godhood are basically the primitive self, the masculine ego (if we were, for example, to take their angelic daddy issue counterparts), then the feminine self in all things too (be that the need to fill Pamela into Dean’s bar, or the bartender in Sam’s dream, who coincidentally has the same actress as Dumah reflecting the Empty at Castiel, even -- though Cas has been known to take vessels of either sorts and has been argued to even have motherly or feminine aspects and DOES walk the goddess path in the show)

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The Magician and the Self are the master of all of these, to make gold of oneself and the parts in our life, the important things that should not be let go, regardless of what Chuck tells us. But “life” is relative here, in a world where we can reincarnate, time and again. In Sam and Dean’s case, it’s because they’re exceptional people in exceptional circumstances but the question then is, why can the rest of man not be given the same, and how do we right this system?

Which then of course comes down to my Matrix implications: The Architect and Chuck, how are they different? If angels are programs designed to keep his operating system functional; if humans are the power cells, human souls each like innumerable reactors; if he who has the most souls are become god;

if Castiel at one point tried to replicate this, but had no sorting system to keep them distracted or occupied and they ... well, they rebelled. But Chuck has ample systems. He has heaven, where people are distracted. He has hell, where humans tear each other apart. And he has... earth. Yes, earth. Where we are in fact convinced to desperately cling to the human bodies as part of the sandbox he designed, for fear of what waits for us. Again, as per the Shadow video, “I’m the cage,” what separates the defined human experience as it stands from that?

Reordering the suprastructure of the universe may very well give us the opportunity to make a new world, a better one, free of hunger, or want.

If, for example -- just one of the angles this could go; let’s say Cas unbirthed heaven like Rowena did hell. Neither of them truly perish. Their physical bodies die and will not return to earth, but these realms can directly interact. They endure, and can build entire new system structures. What if whoever unbirths heaven in the end makes it so EVERYONE can have the choice to reincarnate and gain new experiences? Or equally so the choice to go and make their own perfect worlds with anyone and everyone they choose, where man is his own agent and own god that defines the extent of his experience?

After all. Burgers can go cold in heaven. Physics are had there. It’s all cognitive, but by Chuck, so is earth. The only problem is that none of the people there are real, and in the end... people, families, that’s real. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?

So back to the Matrix: the architect like Chuck had built many worlds, and humans fell into it, becoming the driving power cores. Their revolt is the one thing the Architect would do anything to prevent or minimize, even if in a way, the Architect himself created the One. Angels are programs. Fallen angels are rogue programs. But even agent smith managed to convert “out” into humanity.

I’ve been all for human Cas endgame and, in a way, I still am. In fact, the very idea, the proposal of him taking over heaven prevents nothing of him living in eternity with the Winchesters. Be they having Jack take over the macrocosm of the universe and still dancing through earth as we know it, or eventually sunning their butts between incarnations or building their own realms with all they may want and have. Do they choose to incorporate the carnal edge of experience? Maybe! They know those things after all, so what prevents them of creating it any differently than Jack’s burger going friggin’ cold off of complex manifestations of memory?

What is life? What is the meaning of life? Is it sitting here with a thumping heart, locking ourselves up in rooms for fear of losing it, or is it the people, the families, the experiences we gather as a whole? And in the structure of Supernatural, if Sam and Dean were to die in physical body, does that mean they’re dead? Hell, does it even mean they’ve given up? Or do they actually have dreams and objectives to make better worlds and realities, to bring back every person they’ve lost?

What keeps, say, Dean from going to heaven and opening up a bar for travelers deciding if they wanna reincarnate and enjoy earth again and get new earthly experiences -- or if they’ve found their meaning, their purpose, their people, and they want to, by choice and not assigned fate, take those souls with them into their own worlds where they can make new and better ones? Break the cages, give power and freedom.

It’s a complex line of thought and takes some brain breaking because, as humans, naturally we fear Death. But the perspective of the heavily reincarnate Winchesters and the universe of the show we’re watching -- hell, Sam and Dean CAN’T even really just kill themselves to give up. Remember Lucifer was like meh, I’d just bring you back. So that ain’t it either. It’s not necessarily about giving up or being suicidal, should we come to this -- but about freedom, and choice, and sovereignty of man, and chosen love and family.

If the Shadow were the dreamer in the nothingspace that neverwas, the primitive man, who woke up and went “WTF?” one day and by mistake shat out primitive principles, like the demiurge YHVH/Chuck who happened to create the world by concept of Light and Grace, somewhere, it’s “Why do I exist?” Not to be too pedantic but remember when Mewtwo woke up in a test tube and just kept asking that over and over again. Hell, DO I exist. What is the meaning of this allnothing? and to make it by that question, and to try to find meaning in it, and to gain a million individual experiences, and become a million people, all developing their own personalities and egos and identities and lives and memories, but all to ask, and search, and find -- and still to come back to itself, each other, and by those experiences we become whole.

Eileen’s ghost didn’t hear. We can say it was just for politically correct reasons. Or we can consider that the soul that entered into that body never knew what it meant to have those senses in the matrix, and it was irrelevant in the end. It did not define who she was, and did not need to, because she had her own definition and her own life and her own self. But like everyone else, she gravitates to those she has a connection to. Sometimes with prodding from Chuck. In other cases, against his best efforts, some connections make themselves.

I’ve reached the point of ranting, but maybe this has explained what I’m talking about in these things?

To me, “suicide” in its form as given by the show isn’t just deciding not to need earth as it stands anymore. It’s giving up. It’s surrendering to the cages. It’s Dean wanting to be rocketed off into the depths of space or thrown into the ocean (or, just as bad, throwing Cas into it in his place). It’s giving in to the boxes, to not want to maintain freedom to pursue and explore. So, if Dean should, for example, choose to go to heaven in the end, if this system has been rebuilt-- I really don’t consider that suicidal or death. I consider that a real step into life, and the self.

** Obvious disclaimer let’s not endorse this as a real world line of thinking unless you too like Sam and Dean Winchester can reincarnate after half an episode thanks

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imperialstark · 5 years

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Peverell? Which ones which?

so i rubbed my two brain cells together and hopefully wrote a coherent answer to your question anon in reference to this post i made. it’s been a while since I’ve read/seen Harry Potter but I absolutely love the Tale of the Three Brothers who cheated Death. For those of you who don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, long story short, in the HP world there’s sort of this fable in the wizarding world about three brothers obvi.

So anyway these three brothers were walking together one day and came across a river that, unknown to them had caused many people to drown. But since they were wizards, they used their magic to cross the river and make it to the other side. Death, having felt cheated, decided to trick the brothers and give them any gift that they asked of him.

The first brother, demanded that Death give him a wand worthy of a man who cheated Death, so Death took a branch from a nearby elder tree and gave it to him.

The second brother asked to bring people back from the dead so in turn, Death took a stone from the river and imbued it with the power to awaken the dead.

The third brother simply asked for Death’s cloak and Death had no choice but to oblige.

Now, what the hell does any of that have to do with Thor, Steve, and Tony, you may ask? Well I’ll try my best to explain myself. (This gets long so I’m putting the rest under a cut. **Also this post does contain Endgame spoilers!** For those of you who haven’t seen Endgame yet, do not keep reading!)

Let’s start with Thor. Personally, I feel like Thor embodies the first brother and the elder wand. The first brother was an arrogant, aggressive man and often got into duels in the wizarding world. His life was devoted to besting others in combat and basking in the afterglow of a hard-earned victory. His gift, the elder wand, reflected that. The elder wand was said to be the most powerful wand ever made, but Death had a slight stipulation with every gift he bestowed upon the brothers. Some believe the elder wand was cursed so that whoever wielded the wand would die a violent death.

I personally believe that the wielders of the wand often came into contact with those who were envious of their power and as a result, tried to take it for themselves no matter what. To me, Thor, at least in his first movie, is similar to the first brother. When we first meet Thor, the movie establishes his identity as a warrior fairly early into the movie. We see that he surrounds himself with other warriors and foolishly incite battles rather than letting them happen naturally and we see the negative effects that his arrogance had on others around him.

The Elder Wand in this case would be Mjolnir. Both are powerful magical weapons with enchantments upon them and are envied/coveted by others in their respective universes. Unlike the first brother, Thor learns from his mistakes and his arrogance is tempered by the end of his first movie. The same can’t be said for the first brother who died from a slit throat.

I believe the second brother is best represented by Steve. The second brother used the gift he received from death to bring back the woman he was in love with from the dead, only for it to backfire when she returned as a shade of herself. I feel like a huge theme in Steve’s character arc for the MCU has a lot to do with regret and longing for the past. And knowing what we know about the end of Steve’s character arc in Endgame (no matter your opinions on it) it shows that Steve never really allowed himself to completely settle in the future.

There was always a part of him that wondered what if, you know? What if Bucky had never fallen? What if he had never put the Valkyrie in the water? What if he had gotten to live out his life with Bucky? And until Endgame, Steve would always have to live with those what ifs. (Although I believe had Tony and Nat not died, Steve never would have traveled back in time but that’s a different post.) Steve is the second brother, in that they both never let go of their pasts, instead choosing to cling to it, despite the possible consequences. For the second brother, he ended up going mad with grief and committing suicide once he realized that he would never have his lover back in the way that he wanted. And as for Steve, well the Russos kind of glossed over the consequences (if there are any) of Steve traveling back in time to be with Peggy.

And finally the third, and arguably smartest brother. While the first brother chose glory and the second, love, the third brother chose protection, plain and simple. He literally stripped Death of his own cloak and used it to hide himself from Death from years until he was ready to meet him on his own terms. Who does that sound like to you?

Okay I’m probably biased but to me that just screams Tony. Someone (I can’t think of their url rn but it was a lit post. If anyone remembers pls let me know!) made a post about how no one has been able to kill Tony and that he died on his terms in Endgame. And it’s true. Many have tried, and failed to kill my boy, and each time he rose from the ashes like a goddamn phoenix, stronger and smarter than ever. Obadiah tried to kill him like three times?? In one movie?? And still couldn’t succeed lmao. Vanko also tried to kill Tony multiple times, and also failed. Aldrich Killian? Failed. The Chitauri? Failed. Ultron? Failed. Tony came on top without fail, every single time even when some of the most overpowered villains we have ever seen were literally giving it their all. Thanos literally used the power stone to throw an entire moon at Tony and my boy, to quote Cap, “just walked it off” like when will your fave EVER—

Ahem. Got carried away. But anyway my point still stands. Many have come close to killing Tony, but it wasn’t until Endgame, where Tony faced death on his own terms, did he finally die a death worthy of a hero. And that triumphant smile on his face right before he snapped?

That was him greeting death like an old friend somebody hold me—

But I hoped that answered your question anon! Sorry it took me so long, it took me a couple of days to get all of my thoughts together.

#tony stark #thor odinson #thor #steve rogers #iron man #captain america #avengers: endgame #harry potter #marvel #mcu #tony stark meta #thor meta #steve rogers meta #does this count as meta?#i don't know #gabi talks

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softsichenghours · 5 years

Text

brainwashed|wong yukhei

summary: in which the love of your life, wong yukhei, had his memory of you erased, and has been brainwashed into thinking you’re the enemy.

word count: 6k+

genre: angst, sad fluff, prison au, written in first person

warnings: death, injury, hostages, swearing, violence, weapons.

{what would you do for love?}

✘✘✘

i woke in a dark room, my wrists and ankles bound to the chair i was sitting in. the last thing i remember is screaming for yukhei, trying to fight off the guards restraining me. i don’t know how long had passed since then. was it hours? days? weeks? there was a table in front of me and a mirror on the wall straight ahead. i had watched too many crime dramas to know that this was an interrogation room, and the mirror was actually a two way mirror, whoever was standing on the other side could see me. was there anybody on the other side? was there anybody here at all? where was i? before i could ask myself anymore questions, my attention was brought to the door. someone was jiggling the doorknob. i watched intently as the door burst open, and a wave of calm immediately came over me.

“yukhei,” i sighed. “thank god you’re alright.” standing in front of me was my boyfriend, wong yukhei. but he looked different. his long, light brown hair was now cut short and black. instead of a soft, natural look on his face, his expression was deadpan and cold. even his posture was different. he stood straight, showing his full height. but his eyes. they were empty, dark and menacing. nothing like the sparkling beauties i had grown used to looking into.

“what happened to you? w-what did they do to you?” i tried to wiggle in my chair and groaned when the rope cut into my wrists.

“don’t try to move. you’re not going anywhere.” he said as he shut the door. i furrowed my eyebrows at his remark. wasn’t he going to help me?

“what are you talking about? c’mon, untie me so we can get out of here.” i watched as he put his hands on the table in front of me and leaned in.

“like i said, you’re not going anywhere. you know the secrets, you’re not leaving until you tell us them.” us?

“yukhei, what do you mean?” my voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in further until his face was in front of mine.

“you know what i mean. your company, they did some bad things. tell us their secrets, you live. don’t, you die.” my heart jumped to my throat as he uttered those words.

a while back, the company i work for started a top secret project. yukhei, also works for the company. they started a mission to break innocent people out of jail, those who have been framed for crimes they didn’t commit. this quickly started to escalate, and it led to a group within the company seeking justice for all. they rebelled against corporate, against the government, against anyone who were wrongdoing. i, of course, was the leader of it all. yukhei, my partner in crime, so to say. then, the government was overthrown by people wanting to take down our company. they captured us, separated us, and from there, i don’t know what other damage has been done. all i know is that yukhei, my boyfriend of three years, wasn’t being punished, while i was tied up to a metal chair. maybe yukhei had already confessed, that’s why they let him walk. maybe they thought he would be able to get it out of me. but i refused to tell my company’s secrets. we were doing the right thing, i refuse to justify it. i refuse to be a traitor.

my mind was buzzing with thoughts. why didn’t yukhei just listen to me? why didn’t he answer my questions? i knew they had cameras all around us, but he’s my boyfriend, shouldn’t he be worried about my safety? yukhei now sat in a chair across from me, the table in between us.

“can you at least tell me one thing? how long have we been here?” i sighed, exasperation in my voice.

“you’ve been here for a month. you just don’t remember. you were put in a coma.” he explained. his expression was still dark and emotionless, like he didn’t care if i was alright or not.

“are you alright?” i asked, concerned. once again he ignored my question, but instead leaned forward and clasped his hands together.

“i know you were the leader of that group.”

“you were too, yukhei!” i screamed almost. i didn’t mean to get angry at him, but i was not taking the full punishment for this. whatever had gotten into him, i would straighten him out.

“bullshit!” he yelled, knocking his chair down as he stood up abruptly. i flinched at his loud tone. i had only heard him use it a few times. he rounded the table before stopping in front of me and leaning down to my height.

“you are on thin ice, young lady. i’d watch myself if i were you.” and with that, he straightened up and walked out of the room, leaving me alone again.

✘✘✘

i don’t know how long passed until an older looking security guard came in. he said nothing, but untied me from the chair. i realized another guard was at the door, knowing that i would bolt as soon as i was freed. the first guard handcuffed me and led me out of the room. i fought against him, thrashing about, but knowing it wouldn’t do me any good. it was the first time i’d seen light in months. little daylight flooded through the barred windows as i was led down a long hallway. it opened up to a bigger hallway, where there were employees from the company lined against the wall, all of them handcuffed. they all seemed to look down when i entered, knowing i was the reason they were there. i immediately spotted ten, and hoped he wouldn’t act the same yukhei had. i was slammed against the wall next to him and ordered to stay there. as soon as the guards backs were turned, i was talking quickly to ten.

“are you okay? what did they do to you?” i looked him up and down, he didn’t appear to have any injuries. his messy black hair was in his eyes and the bags under them were huge. i guess i looked the same.

“i’m fine. but i need you to listen. about yukhei,” he was cut off by one of the bigger guards.

“silence!” ten waited a moment before speaking again, leaving me jittering with anticipation. what about yukhei? i edged ever so slightly closer to him so that he could speak lower and i could hear.

“they’ve got him. these people, they took him. he didn’t confess, he didn’t say anything. but they’ve got him on their side!” he whispered hurriedly. my eyes widened at his statement. yukhei was on the other side.

“how!?” i looked at him. a few guards noticed our talking and made their way towards us. “ten, how!?” i urged. a hand was on my elbow, tearing me away from the boy.

“they brainwashed him into thinking you’re the enemy! he doesn’t remember anything!” he yelled, wanting me to hear. “he doesn’t even know who you are!” i felt my heart drop to my feet as i got pulled away. i let the guard drag me where he wanted. that’s why yukhei never regarded me. he was brainwashed.

✘✘✘

the cell i was thrown in was dark, dingy, and cold. it was completely empty. no bed, no toilet, nothing. i was handcuffed to a post in the corner and left alone. i wished i could just shut my brain off. i didn’t know whether to be angry or sad. angry because they so easily tricked yukhei. angry because they turned him into someone else. sad because my boyfriend was someone else. sad because the love of my life was no longer mine, he no longer loved me. he didn’t even remember me. even if i confessed to leading the group, he still wouldn’t. he was gone. forever. the cold metal of the handcuffs rubbed the rope burns on my wrist. i squirmed around as well as i could until the guard outside my cell shot me a glare. i sighed, knowing i would be here for a while.

✘✘✘

i don’t know how long i was asleep, but when i awoke, yukhei was sitting on a chair in front of me. i jumped slightly, surprised by his presence. i backed into the corner, the look on his face intimidating me. he seemed so empty. it was hard to think i could ever be scared of yukhei, but here i was.

“well good morning.” he said, his voice like a knife in the back. i knew i should try to get through to him, maybe there was hope.

“yukhei, you really let them do this to you?” my voice trembled as i spoke.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he stated plainly. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you. what do you know?” he leaned in closer. i edged back and something flashed in his eyes, concern almost. but they went back to empty and dark. i stayed silent for a moment.

“do you really not know who i am, yukhei?” my voice was barely a whisper now. he furrowed his eyebrows and his eyes bore into mine.

“of course i know who you are,” my eyes widened at his words. “you’re the enemy. you’re just another prisoner.” my heart sank again and hot tears sprung to my eyes. i wouldn’t dare let them fall. he pushed his chair back and got up, looking at me the entire time.

“yukhei, please...just think. you can’t remember me at all? not even just one, small memory? please.” a forlorn tear rolled down my cheek, i sounded so pathetic. he opened the gate to my cell and walked out.

“she’s delusional...” he muttered to one of the guards before walking down the hallway, out of my view. the breath felt like it was depleted from my lungs, my heart physically ached. a sob escaped my mouth, i didn’t care about crying now that he wasn’t around. i was never getting yukhei back, no matter how hard i tried. it didn’t matter if i died or if i didn’t, i had lost the best thing in my life.

✘✘✘

laughter racked my body as yukhei danced in front of the tv screen. he knew i had a bad day and was doing everything in his power to make me feel better. as soon as he heard me laugh, he turned around, the biggest grin plastered on his face. he continued to wiggle his body in ways that made me laugh until my mind had drifted from the trials and tribulations of my rough day and all my attention was on him. after a few moments, he kneeled in front of me and kissed my forehead gently.

“feel better, baby?” he brought up a hand to wipe away the tears on my cheeks and cupped my face in his hand. i nodded, a smile hinting on my lips and leaned in to lean my forehead on his. he filled the gap and kissed me softly, a wave of security coursing through my body. with yukhei, i was safe.

“thank you. i don’t deserve you.” i grabbed his hand that was on my face and intertwined our fingers.

“i’ll cheer you up on all of your bad days for the rest of our lives, i promise. i love you.”

i jolted awake, cold sweat running down the sides of my face. the dream i awoke from was more than a dream, it was a memory. i hated how real it felt, because reality struck when i woke up. i guess it was just in time, because the door of my cell slid back and yukhei entered, a tray in his hand. he laid it in front of me and i examined the contents. two slices of bread, and a glass of water. i hadn’t realized how hungry i was until it was before me. i hadn’t eaten in days, maybe even a week. yukhei reached over and pulled out a key from his pocket, unlocking the handcuffs. as soon as he had released me, i brought my hand to my chest, rubbing my wrist that was scabbed from the rope burns.

“eat.” he demanded, sitting in the same chair he had before. i quickly scarfed down what was there, with him watching me the entire time. when i was finished the last drop of water, he hauled the tray away from me.

“now, anything to say today?” he crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. i shook my head, refusing to betray my company. he didn’t say any more. he just handcuffed my wrist to the post, got up and walked out.

✘✘✘

it was a few days before he came back. or so i think; it could’ve been weeks or merely hours. i had no perception of time anymore, i felt as if i was going insane in my little cell. yukhei came back with a tray, as he did before, but it only had two slices of bread and a glass of water on it. this time when he laid it in front of me and went to unlock my handcuffs , i kicked the tray away from me. his eyes followed to where it slid across the room and hit off the opposite wall.

“not going to eat, huh? then i guess there’s no use to uncuff you.” he let me be and sat back in the chair, letting only his heels graze the floor. “hunger strike isn’t effective when you’re condemned to die anyway.” a ghost of a smirk hinted on his face.

“i already know that, jackass.” i spit. i didn’t feel bad cursing at him, for this wasn’t yukhei.

“oh, really? any specific time you’d like to die?” he leaned in on his elbows.

“any day now.” i snarled, glaring up at him.

“i’ll be sure to tell them that.”

✘✘✘

i slammed the envelope down on the table, the sound echoing through our shared apartment.

“we now owe three months of rent, yukhei! next month we get evicted! then where are we going to go?!” i yelled, my temper getting the best of me.

“i’m not the one leading a stupid protest group and not making any money from it! when will you get your head out of the clouds and realize that we need money!” he screamed back at me. the clock in over his shoulder read 3:30 am, and i had just gotten home from a peace rally.

“when will i get my head out of the clouds?! what about you?! you were supposed to ask for that raise a month ago, but all you do is skip work and stay home playing video games! god, you’re just like a child!” he came close to me, but i pushed him away. yes, i loved yukhei, but i hated his dumb habits and work ethic. this was our third fight this month, it seemed like that’s all he kept me around for anymore. we were growing distant and it was obvious.

“how about you stop leading that bullshit group and pay attention to your actual job for once! you are so bitchy and uptight to me about it, yet you do the same! sometimes i wish i could just catch a break from you!” he yelled, his voice louder than i’d ever heard it. i was taken aback by his sudden rage and i took a step back, tears forming in my eyes.

“if that’s really how you feel, maybe i should go…” i shook my head and opened the front door, slamming it shut behind me as i ran out into the street in tears. within a second, yukhei was out behind me, engulfing me in his arms.

“i’m so sorry for yelling at you, baby.” his voice faltered. “i know right now things aren’t looking very good but that’s not a reason for me to just lash out at you like that. i’m going to pick up the slack, i promise.” he pulled back and held my face in his hands, looking in my eyes. “and i will never leave you, baby, never, ever. from now on, it’s us against the problem, not me versus you, okay? i love you too much to lose you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

i was awoken from my memory dream by distant yelling. one of the voices i recognized to be ten, my bestfriend. i immediately sat straight and pulled away, before remembering i was handcuffed. i had escaped handcuffs before, but they had been too big around my wrists. if i had something small i could pick the lock easily. i figured my pockets had been cleaned out, so i looked around the room for something. i could use one of my piercings if i could get it out. but when i felt around my ears and eyebrow, i found that they too had been removed. i stomped my foot down on the concrete floor in frustration, causing one of the guards outside my cell to glare back at me.

“cut it out, kid.” he said, a stone cold expression on his face.

“bite me.” i spit.

it was another few hours before there was movement from outside my cell. ten had been on my mind the entire time. what had they done to him? the whole time since i had woken up, i was doing my best to annoy the guards. i had kicked the wall next to me repeatedly until my feet hurt, i jangled the handcuffs against the post, creating a clacking sound, i even whistled as much as i could. i needed to push their buttons the best i could. i was jiggling the handcuffs again when yukhei emerged from the dark hallway.

“she’s been like this all morning.” one of the guards nodded towards me.

“i’ll get her to stop.” he muttered, looking past them at me.

“how are we today?” he grumbled as he stepped into the cell. i knew he was only asking to seem friendly, so that i would tell him about the group.

“i’m angry. because you still have me fucking locked up in here!” i yelled at him. he rolled his eyes and his gaze landed on the numerous trays on the floor, the ones i had refused.

“why aren’t you eating?” he stated more than asked, picking up the chair i had kicked over earlier.

“because i don’t want any of your food, god knows what you did to it.” i glared up at him as he sat down. “maybe they put some of that drug in it that they used to brainwash you. i won’t become a mindless robot.”

“i still don’t know why you’re going on about me being “brainwashed.” i think you’re delusional.” he said.

“okay then, if you’re not brainwashed, what’s your name?”

“wong yukhei.”

“where are you from?” he stayed silent at my question, racking his brain for some bullshit background they gave him.

“you don’t even know where you’re from, right? what about your birthday? your bestfriend? your family?” i fumed. yukhei was unable to answer any of my questions, his confidence faltering.

“you’re from hong-kong, yukhei. your birthday is january 25th, your bestfriend is kun and you used to live with him, you have a little brother and two dogs, you’re half thai and your parents owned a thai restaurant in hong-kong, you go to thailand every year to see your mom, you love eating and you do it a lot, and you absolutely hate mosquitos, and your blood type is O. now, who else is going to know that about you?” i said. his eyes widened with fear almost, an unknown look in his eye. come on, yukhei, you can do it, you can remember. he furrowed his eyebrows and pushed back the chair before standing up. he turned around and walked to the cell door.

“i know you better than you know yourself, yukhei.” he looked over his shoulder at me and then proceeded to leave my cell.

✘✘✘

“oh, you’re actually up this time.” yukhei entered the next time, a smirk plastered on his face.

“what do you want? don’t you already know that i’m not telling you anything?” i brought my free hand up to push the hair out of my face.

“i know that. you don’t have to.” he said.

“what?” i questioned.

“your “bestfriend” ten already confessed to everything. he told us all about your stupid little group, the one you’re the leader of.” his words felt like a punch in the gut. ten ratted me out? he wouldn’t. i know he wouldn’t. they must have done something to him to get him to confess. he wouldn’t just tell on me, he was a part of the group, too. i felt the anger rise in my chest. not at ten, but at them.

“what did you do to him?!” i raised my voice.

“he confessed pretty easily when we told him that you confessed.” so they had lied to him to get him to confess? it was smart, i had to admit. i furrowed my eyebrows and slumped back into the corner.

“but of course, he’s no longer needed. we got everything we needed out of him.” yukhei said. no longer needed? does that mean they let him go?

“so, you let him go?” i questioned.

“obviously not, we’re not that stupid. he knew too much, we had to kill him.” they killed him. they killed my bestfriend and it was my fault. before sadness could strike me, i was hit with anger. seething anger, like i could rip someone apart. the boy i was looking at wasn’t yukhei anymore, he was a monster.

“how could you?!” i yelled. “how could you kill an innocent person like that?!” for the first time in a long time, i was able to get to my feet, my right arm still being dragged down by being handcuffed to the post. my knees were shaky from not standing for awhile, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins kept me up. “who are you, yukhei?! who have you become?!” i screamed, my voice becoming raspy. hot tears cascaded down my face, anger mixing with other emotions. i was seeing red. the guards entered my cell when they heard the commotion. i fought them off as well as i could before i felt my hands behind my back, keeping me from lunging at the boy in front of me. he stood there, stunned.

“you are a piece of shit! you are a monster!” with my words, he took a step back. a look of realization plastered his face, but it went back to stone cold.

“i hate you!” i knew i could never hate yukhei. i had to keep reminding myself, this wasn’t yukhei. “i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!” fear and sadness collected on his face. even if he didn’t remember me, he knew my anguish towards him. the last thing i remember was yukhei quickly leaving my cell as a needle was jabbed into my arm.

✘✘✘

i was back to stage one. in an empty room, not knowing how long had passed. i was left untied, my hands on the table in front of me. the door opened almost immediately after i woke up. i kept my head down, not wanting to even look at yukhei. he came closer and soon i could feel his presence hovering over me.

“don’t touch me.” i snarled, making myself smaller in the chair.

“i wasn’t going to.” the voice wasn’t yukhei’s. i actually didn’t recognize it. i looked up to be greeted with a small smile from a different boy. he was dressed in the same informal uniform as yukhei was, but he was younger. he looked to be 17 or 18. his features were much more delicate. his eyes were soft and welcoming, and i could tell that if he was smiling with his teeth, it would be ear to ear. his hair was long and in his eyes, like it hadn’t been cut in awhile.

“who are you?” i questioned as he sat in the chair across from me, the table between us.

“i’m na jaemin.” he extended his hand towards me, obviously for me to shake. i just looked at it. his pulled his hand back and his eyes directed to my hands when i pulled them away. “did they do that to you?” he nodded towards my wrists which were now scarred and bruising from both the ropes and the handcuffs, as well as the cuts along my arms from where i had tried to fight off the guards. i nodded timidly, scared of this new person. i cleared my throat and looked at jaemin.

“where’s yukhei? is he alright?” i asked. who knows what they could’ve done to him.

“he’s fine. but after what happened, he requested for someone else to be assigned to you…” he trailed off.

“oh…” i said quietly and lowered my head. after a moment of silence, i swallowed thickly and looked up again. “is he ever going to remember? or have i just lost him forever?” jaemin frowned and leaned forward.

“they brainwashed him pretty good. but he knows something is going on. i think he’s remembering bits and pieces...he even made them take you out of that cell and put you in here. if you see him again, you have to keep trying to get through to him, okay?” he explained. i nodded quickly as he glanced into the corner of the ceiling. i followed his gaze to the camera. he would be in trouble if they caught him telling me this. he leaned back as if nothing happened.

“i’m going to bring you some better food. will you eat, please? yukhei said you weren’t eating what he brought you.”

“yeah, i will.” i whispered almost. with that, na jaemin offered a small smile and left me alone again.

✘✘✘

i didn’t sleep that night. i kept getting the feeling like i was being watched. when jaemin entered the next morning, he knew i hadn’t slept.

“good morning.” he slid a tray of proper food into the table. toast with butter, strawberries, a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of water. he watched as i devoured the meal, making sure to eat every last bit. i trusted jaemin.

“you didn’t sleep.” he sat down and crossed his arms. “why not?”

“i just couldn’t.”

“yukhei was awake all night, too. he was right behind that glass,” he jerked his head back towards the mirror. “he was trying so hard to remember you.” that’s why i felt like i was being watched.

“he-he was?” my eyes widened as hope fluttered in my chest.

“yeah, he was. listen, you gotta do something for me, okay?” he looked around before leaning in on his elbows.

“it depends.” i knew whatever it was, i would be forced into doing it.

✘✘✘

that night, the feeling of being watched came back to me. maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, maybe it was yukhei on the other side of the glass again. the glass was kind of a metaphor for our situation. he could see me, but i couldn’t see him. it was like there was constant glass between us.

“yukhei...if you’re listening right now...i just want you to know that i love you.” my voice cracked as my eyes filled with tears. “i know i said i hate you, but i don’t. i hate what they’ve done to you. i hate them. i love you. i always will.” a sob racked my body and i used the palm of my hand to wipe my face. “i remember the first night i met you. it was at my friends concert and she introduced me to you and there you were; with your ever floppy hair and leather jacket and ripped jeans. you looked so cool, yukhei. i remember just looking in your eyes for the first time and thinking “damn, this boy is going to mess me up in so many ways.” and i was right. little did i know the best and worst way you’d mess me up is by making me fall in love with you.” i let out a humourless chuckle. “and then there was our first date. you acted so cocky and overconfident when you showed up at my door to pick me up, but as soon as you seen me, you became all nervous. you stuttered through the whole night, you were afraid to make eye contact, and when we held hands for the first time, your hands were clammy and a bit shaky. you were so nervous that you were going to mess things up, it was so cute.” i looked up at the ceiling to avoid more tears from falling, but the bittersweet memories caused me to keep crying.

“yukhei, we had so many plans for the future. my favourite nights were when we would lie in bed and just talk about our future like we had a clue. we wanted a cottage in the countryside somewhere. we wanted a fireplace and hardwood floors and a bunch of dogs to watch run around our huge backyard. we wanted kids. we would discuss if they’d be more like me or you, and my heart would just fill up at the thought of little yukhei’s running around and giggling. a future with you was always my plan A. and i had no plan B. i could only envision myself with you, forever. you were my first love, yukhei. you were my only love.” i paused, the tears making my breath catch in my throat. “and now i have to accept that you’ve been taken away from me, forever. i know that you’re past the point of remembering me. but please,” i looked at the mirror, only seeing my tear stained face, but hoping he was on the other side. “even if it takes everything in you, please try to remember. i need you. i love you.” while i lowered my head to cry, i had no idea that yukhei was as close as he could get to the glass on the other side, tears streaming down his face. he was starting to remember all this, but he still couldn’t remember me.

✘✘✘

it was the day that i had to do whatever jaemin had brought up. he never fully explained it to me, just that i was going to be part of a livestream for the government. if i said positive things about it, i’d be released. but was it really any use? if i was leaving or not, it was without yukhei. i was brought into a different room. it seemed so different from the rest of the building. it was a white room, with huge windows, creating a lot of natural light. there were comfy chairs and mirrors and racks of clothes. it was all a blur; women attacked my face with brushes and makeup, my hair was yanked into two pretty braids, and soon a stack of clothes was piled into my arms. i was ordered into the bathroom to change. i wore a pair of jeans and a white blouse with a black leather jacket. when i finished changing, i noticed something else on the floor, something i must have dropped while i was rearranging the clothing. i picked up the piece of jewellery i knew all too well. i slipped the petite silver band onto my ring finger, my hands trembling. my promise ring. yukhei had a matching one. it had been present on his hand the whole time.

an old, balding white man confronted me when i was sat in a chair in another fancy room.

“you will look at the camera, you will smile, you will tell the viewers to obey our rules. you will make it believable. don’t screw it up. your life depends on this.” he flashed a yellow tooth smile. i realized who he was. he was the leader of the whole overthrown government. the one who took down my group. the one who brainwashed my boyfriend. the one who killed my bestfriend and god knows how many more. i glared up at him. he moved from his spot in front of me and the camera lights were turned on. my stomach jittered.

“and 3, 2, 1, we are live.” a cameraman said as the red dot on the camera started blinking. the man stood in front of the camera and started speaking, but i tuned him out. i caught the trail end of his speech.

“we don’t want a revolution, we want a better country. we will change the constitution! we all want to change the world, don’t we?” he smiled falsely into the lense. utter rage was building in my chest. he stepped away from the camera, signalling my turn to speak. i stayed silent for a moment, looking at him, until he nodded for me to start. i looked into the camera, smoothed my shirt and put on the fakest smile i could muster up.

“everything that he just said...is bullshit! they are capturing innocent people and killing them for wanting freedom! for wanting equal rights! he is capturing our people!” his eyes went wide at my yells, and he shook his head fastly for them to stop the broadcast. the cameraman fumbled with the switches.

“young people, are you tired of seeing your generation looked down upon? are you tired of having your rights revoked? now is the time to act! so i’m telling you, rebel! rebel against the government so that old white pricks like this guy aren’t in control of your life!” i was pulled out of the chair by two guards, but i fought against them the best i could. “because everything isn’t going to be just alright! things won’t work themselves out! rebel! fight for your life!” i was hauled out of the room just as the camera was stopped. i elbowed the guard to my left in the ribs, and received a kick in the back, sending me stumbling to the ground. i got up quickly and tried to run, but was stopped by more guards. they surrounded me now.

“take her away from here. she isn’t needed any longer.” i heard the man say to a group of guards. she isn’t needed any longer. isn’t that what yukhei said about ten? they were going to kill me. i hoped it was quick, i just wanted it to be over with. they dragged me down a long hallway i had never been down before, to a door at the end. i was shoved inside and quickly tied to a bigger chair. i knew what it was. this was where they killed their victims. i could tell by the blood on the walls and the way it sent chills down my spine. the chair i was put in? the electric chair. they would shock me to death, make me suffer. was this how ten was killed? i rid my mind of that thought, more important things on my mind, like my own death. i was strapped in, but i thrashed about the whole time, not going down easily. i was out of breath by the time i was fully settled. i started to panic. yeah, i talked about wanting them to just kill me, but when you’re really there, minutes away from death, your mindset changes. then, in the doorway appeared two familiar faces. i almost didn’t see them among all the guards. jaemin and yukhei. jaemin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, he was too young to see someone die.

“jaemin, run! please, go!” i yelled with what energy was left. he nodded fast and left, leaving just yukhei. his expression was sad, almost. i felt the buzz of the contraption being turned on. maybe they hadn’t used it in a while. maybe they just wanted me to die long and painfully. a jolt was sent through my body. it was only small, but hurt like the sting of a thousand bees. anything bigger would definitely kill me. tears sprung to my eyes as my life flashed in front of my eyes. most of it was yukhei.

“yukhei, don’t let them do this!” i screamed, my voice raspy and my throat sore. he just stood like a statue while most of the guards filed out. i noticed though, that his hands were shaking.

“please! please do something! yukhei, please! yukhei!” i screeched in pain, my body feeling like it was giving out. another jolt was sent through my body and i felt so weak.

“yuk- xuxi!” i cried out his mandarin name, my vision now blurring. it was like something snapped in him. the eyes glinted with fear, his body jumping at my words. when i looked at him, i knew what had happened. he remembered. he finally remembered. but was it too late? i hung my head, letting the pain take over my body. i heard a few grunts and slams, and then felt shaky fingers fumbling at the numerous straps holding my body in the chair. i was picked up, too weak to move, and soon, there was silence. when i opened my eyes, yukhei was in front of me, holding my face in his hands. he was crying.

“i’m so sorry. i don’t know what happened. i should have never let anything happen to you. i love you.” he whispered.

“yukhei, i have you back.” i smiled weakly.

“i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere. but, let’s get out of here. let’s get you to safety, okay?” before he could do anything, i pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt. i kissed him and knew, i had my yukhei back. we were going to be okay. i was never going to let anything take him away from me again.

#wong yukhei #nct #nct au #na jaemin #ten #lucas #huang xuxi #nct angst #nct u #nct 2018 #nctwriters #fanfic #writing #yukhei angst #yukhei au

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tmae3114 · 5 years

Text

Diath & the Waterdeep Underground

Okay!! So!! It’s high time that I actually got around to cross-posting this over here!! I can’t believe it’s taken me so long!!

This is a theory that I’d been working on since *wobbly hand motion* mid- to late Season Three? I polished it up enough to post about two months ago but only ever got around to doing so on the DCA subreddit (bc that’s where there was more activity at the time) and always intended to get it over here as well and then just. never did.

So! Here’s the theory, as originally presented two months ago. I intend to add an edit/update at some point with all the new evidence from Episodes 116 and 117 but I haven’t had the time or energy to do so yet.

So! Without further ado! My “Diath’s got a history with Waterdeep’s criminal underground” theory!

(Note: due to the recent complications re: Tumblr And Links and the fact that I want this post to show up in the tag, all the timestamps which were linked in the subreddit version have been changed to URLs in this one. It’s a bit clunky to read but it’s the best I can do rn *shrug*)

I think Diath has a history with some part of the criminal underground in Waterdeep. Specifically, that he was part of it.

Diath’s past is something about which we know very, very little. He very rarely talks about it and usually in the broadest possible terms when he does; Episode 73 is the exception to this, with the stories he shares there being the most detail he has shared about events in his past. There is, however, one consistency which can be identified on the occasions when he does talk about it – he only ever talks about his time on the streets as a part of his childhood. This is not a solely in-universe thing either – Jared and Chris both do the same. (I believe so, at least. If I’m incorrect, please let me know and maybe provide me a timestamp/link to when whatever they say is said, if you can! It’d be useful information to have on hand for future theorising in this regard) Diath very much seems to be a precision oriented person by nature. His wording of things is often very deliberate. Therefore, with his time begging on the streets being specifically referred to as a part of his childhood, along with the meta-aspect of this additionally being consistent out of universe, we can surmise that he was no longer in the position of begging on the streets after his childhood.

If we’re to assume that childhood is including his teenage years (which seems a reasonable assumption, with how often Diath is teased about being a child post-Youth Potion) then Diath was, presumably, off the streets either at or around the age of eighteen/nineteen.

In Episode 73, when telling the story of how he met Strix, Diath states that he “was just trying [his] hand at being an adventurer” (https://youtu.be/6SuM1qebiXM?t=19m29s), indicating that they met relatively early into his adventuring career, which we can use to make a rough estimate of what age he began adventuring, admittedly with a lot of guesstimating.

We know that he was twenty eight at the beginning of the show. As of Episode 1, the Wafflecrew had been together for a “short while”, which we know was long enough to have been on a few adventures together but short enough that they were still figuring out group dynamics and the like – I would place this period of time as somewhere between two months and a year. We also know that he and Strix had known each other for “a few years” before they met Evelyn and Paultin – a period of time which I would place as being roughly three or four years, as five or more feels too many to be accurately described as “a few”.

Therefore, working with the largest numbers estimated above, it’s possible that Diath began adventuring somewhere in the range of five years prior to Episode 1, at age twenty three.

With the previous conclusion of Diath having no longer been begging at eighteen/nineteen and this new conclusion of him having not started adventuring until twenty three, this gives us a four/five year window in which to wonder ‘what exactly was he doing?’

But why think that he may have been involved in crime during that potential period? I have a few reasons, which are as follows:

Firstly, it has been alluded to on multiple occasions throughout the show that Diath has been in trouble with the law in Waterdeep either a significant number of times or one very memorable and impactful time. While I haven’t gone through the whole show to track down every reference to this, mostly because I don’t remember which episodes they’re all in and I don’t have the time (or, admittedly, patience) to go searching for them, I have got a very early one – in Episode 7, when he’s being arrested by the guards in Vallaki, Jared remarks that this is “not [Diath’s] first time [being arrested]” (https://youtu.be/STnBV8C61vM?t=19m52s). Additionally, Jared mentioned in an Idle Champions interview that Diath “technically […] has a criminal record.” (https://www.twitch.tv/videos/292683322?t=38m03s) While that could be a reference to the times that Diath (and the rest of the Wafflecrew) have got into trouble over the course of the show, the use of the phrase “criminal record” implies, to me, that that is a circumstance that is rather more official than most of the trouble the ‘crew have been in. Additionally, when he triggers the trap door in Castle Ravenloft and gets dropped into a dungeon cell in Episode 30, Diath’s response of being sad is explicitly noted to be because “[he] never wanted to be behind bars again.” (https://youtu.be/Y03julVmXNE?t=40m27s) This could quite likely be linked to Diath’s issues with cages (as displayed in Ironslag (https://youtu.be/dS_QMZOO5Og?t=1h4m33s)) but, again, the wording leads me to think there’s other possible connections – that phrase is usually used to refer to being in a jail cell or in prison, after all. Diath’s response to being in the cell is also quite markedly different to his reaction to being in the cage – frustration and sadness, as opposed to a borderline panic attack. The two are not necessarily mutually exclusive, though; Diath’s dislike of ending up in that cell could be related both to past trouble with the law and to whatever his trauma regarding cages is.

Secondly, in Episode 53, it’s revealed that Diath was sold by his family when he was young enough that he barely remembers them (https://youtu.be/jZrd26ImgyU?t=56m49s). A human brain generally starts laying down retrievable memories at roughly the age of three, so the presence of any memories of them at all means that Diath must have been at least that old when those events transpired. We also know from later reveals that he remembers at least enough to know his father’s name – Ashton – though this was clearly a later recollection as he did not recognise the name at all when first confronted with it when given Gutter by the dworc in Citadel Adbar. With that information, I would estimate that Diath was between the ages of three and six when he was sold. Additionally, as far as we know, he came from a working class family with an adventurer father.

Why is this significant information to this theory in particular? Simple.

Diath can read and write.

There is no point in his backstory that we currently know of where he could’ve learned or been taught those skills. Even had his birth family had access to the skills or resources to teach him, he wasn’t with them, and spent a large portion of his childhood begging on the streets. Diath having either of those skills, let alone both, is odd. And in addition to reading and writing, he’s also got a fairly refined speech pattern and even knows some words that Evelyn, a noble-born child primarily raised in a temple, doesn’t (see: the stationary exchange in episode 94) which is, again, pretty unusual for someone who seemingly went straight from beggar to adventurer. It’s possible that Diath is self-taught but it’s just as possible, if not more likely, that there’s some unknown period in his past where there was someone who taught him. The questions left to us in that scenario, then, are who and why? Knowing Diath and how things generally go for him, it’s unlikely it was someone performing an act of altruism. In concert with the other possible pieces of evidence for this theory, it doesn’t seem too out there to speculate that he was, perhaps, taught because it could be a useful skill for him to have for whoever he was working for. This could also explain his speech pattern, as it could account for him being around a person, or people, who spoke like that enough to start doing it himself, something which would be much more unlikely on the streets.

Thirdly, it seems to have been implied that, in certain parts of Waterdeep at least, Diath has a reputation that paints him as a thief, or someone with the potential to be one. In Episode 73, when talking about how he and Strix met the rest of the Wafflecrew, Diath is very, very certain that the hostility and accusation from the innkeeper was because of and directed at him (https://youtu.be/6SuM1qebiXM?t=25m16s). The only elaboration that he gives on being so sure that the innkeeper was accusing him specifically and not targeting him and Strix because of Strix being a tiefling is stating that "when you stay in Waterdeep long enough, doing the things you do, you do develop a sort of... reputation, either by- either through truth or not.” (https://youtu.be/6SuM1qebiXM?t=23m59s). He doesn’t actually tell us what that reputation is or give any hints as to how it may have come about. While stereotypes could arguably be at play, given that the Rusty Pommel was apparently fairly seedy and in a seedy part of town, it seems unlikely that Diath was the only former street kid or the only rogue in the establishment. His certainty implies it was something about him specifically that caused that incident, especially with the comment about reputations. In Episode 90, Evelyn of Shar’s use of the fear spell reveals to us that one of Diath’s worst fears is Awful!Diath, his mirrored self. Specifically "He hates seeing that that is what everyone else sees him as, and that's what he could have been, that he tries to fight every day to not be." (https://youtu.be/PDG4KidCIXU?t=1h28m48s) This fear is likely linked to the aforementioned implied reputation. What is of particular interest to this theory, however, is the latter part of that sentence – “that’s what he could have been, that he tries to fight every day not to be.” While this could simply refer to how Diath could have taken a different path growing up, it could also mean that it was a path he had already started down, and turned back from. With that possibility in mind, it’s also entirely possible that the reputation he seemingly has that caused the conflict in the Rusty Pommel is not, as would seem the first interpretation of his statement from what we know of Diath, an untruthful reputation of being a thief, but rather a truthfully earned one of being a criminal – after all, everyday people who don’t know Diath would have no way of knowing about his personal moral code against stealing. If he had a reputation as a criminal, there would be no reason for people not to assume that this would include thievery. The ambiguity of his wording, “doing the things you do”, could also lend credence to this possibility. Diath is very good at keeping secrets and using an ambiguous phrase to not technically lie is something he could very easily have been doing with that statement.

My final reasoning is that, since the return to Waterdeep but particularly in Episode 102, we have been shown that Diath has a pretty wide network of contacts – referred to by Chris as his “society of confederates” – to the point that with their help he was able to rally the city guard to catch the Xanathar Guild members who stole Waffles within hours of returning to Waterdeep. Combined with the potential evidence for this theory, this is interesting, since it could point to what degree he was involved, but it isn’t strictly evidence for this theory on its own.

None of these things alone necessarily point to Diath having been involved with some aspect of the criminal underworld in Waterdeep but I feel like they make for a compelling case when looked at together. What do you think?

#dice camera action #dca #diath woodrow #it's!! been way too long!!! since I posted theory content on this blog!!!#waitwaitwait hang on what was my theorising tag theme #I HAD A THEME #WHAT WAS IT #OH RIGHT I REMEMBER #Tmae overanalyses DCA #THERE WE GO. KEEPING WITH THE THEME.#also I can't wait to add all the stuff from 117 because there was SO MUCH FUEL FOR THE FIRE

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lichlover · 6 years

Note

If you’re taking prompts I’d love to know what you think would happen if one of the 100 worlds the seven birds went to was earth. Like how many milliseconds would it take lup and taako to get arrested/what would happen with magic/etc.

okay, so, admittedly i misread this, but it was already turning out in a super fun way so i just decided to run with it. have a little something from post-canon!

please consider donating to my ko-fi!

On the third ring, Joaquin has to step out of his math class, because whoever’s calling him is calling instead of texting and that means it’s serious.

All eyes are on him as he whispers an apology to his teacher and steps out into the hallway. He’s sure it’s not just because of the call; having magic powers tends to make him a target for people’s stares, nowadays. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to have gotten him much else. An exemption from math class, for example.

The door swings mercifully shut behind him, and Joaquin presses the phone to his ear. “Uh, hi, whoever this is?” he whispers, because one of the hall monitors is a few doors down and eyeing him suspiciously. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Hey, kid! Am I on the right frequency?”

Joaquin freezes and cranks up the volume. “Uh, sorry… is this—”

“Taako,” the voice on the other end drawls. “Y’know, from TV? And also the end of the world, keep fuckin’ forgetting about that one. Uh… listen. I’ve got a bit of a—uh, we have a bit of a situation here, and—”

“Whoa, just—hold on a sec.” The hall monitor is definitely staring now. “Where is here? Where are you? How did you even get my number?”

“World savior privileges. So the thing is—”

Joaquin blinks. “Oh my God, are you… are you here in this world? Like, actually here?”

He can practically hear Taako’s shrug through the phone. “Near as I can tell.”

“Oh my God,” Joaquin repeats. He’s starting to feel a little faint, and he’s sure it’s not because of his late lunch period. “What are you doing here? I thought that was against the—the rules, or whatever? Are you gonna get arrested by the dimension police? Oh, shit—” He breaks off when the hall monitor’s glare intensifies, and continues in a lower voice. “Am I gonna get arrested by the dimension police?”

“Probably not. Uh, speaking of which! They told me we only get one phone call, so we really—we really gotta make this one count here—”

“One phone call? Oh, holy shit, did you get arrested?”

From a few meters away, he sees the hall monitor unclip a walkie-talkie from her belt. Why his school has to go so hard with hall monitors, Joaquin will never understand, but he has a feeling his time is almost up. “Okay, okay, just—how did you—no, nevermind, that doesn’t matter. Where are you?”

“Uh…” Taako’s voice jumps a good octave. The receiver crackles, and Joaquin can hear a muffled question, followed by a brief, snappish argument. “This fuckin’ guy, I swear to gods—uh, the Miami Beach police station? Whatever the hell that means. They got better room service in the Eternal Stockade, and that’s—that’s sayin’ something.”

“Miami Beach police station,” Joaquin repeats. “Okay, I’m on my way. Just hang in there, and, uh, don’t do anything stupid, I guess?”

A scoff fizzles through the phone. “You don’t halfta tell me twice.”

“Yes, you do!” comes another, more distant voice. One Joaquin recognizes.

“Is that Lup?” he says, and now his voice is about to jump another octave, too. “She’s there with you?”

“Yeah, she’s—hey, Fantasy Terminator, I’ll tell ya when my time is up, alright? Listen, kid, bring a taco or two with you, alright? It’ll be ironic, and also, I’m fuckin’ starving. Cool. Thanks. Bye!”

“Um, okay, I will. But—” The connection goes dead, which Joaquin will admit he should have seen coming. He shoves his phone in his pocket and flags down the hall monitor, who has the walkie-talkie in her hand and looks about ready to bring out the big guns. “Hey, hey, uh,” he says, trying not to think about how her walkie might be as intimidating as the Hunger itself. “I—um, I’m sorry to disturb the peace and, uh, all that, but I really gotta go.”

The hall monitor walks him down to the counselor’s office, and when the counselor asks him what’s wrong, his brain barrels past “family emergency” and goes straight to “world savior stuff,” verbatim.

It turns out to be the better idea, anyway. Not ten minutes later, Joaquin is standing at a bus stop with the scrapings of a fare in his hand.

It’s strange to be downtown in the middle of the day. He stops by a locally owned Mexican place, feeling guilty all the way, and picks up two tacos with all the embellishments because he had said he would. The police station is a short walk from there. Joaquin recognizes a couple of the officers from their off-duty stops at the taco truck, and they wave at him as he hurries past, but he’s a little too frazzled to offer them anything but a weak smile in return. This isn’t the way he’d supposed he would spend his Tuesday. Granted, his weekdays are a bit unpredictable now, what with the impromptu interviews and the press showing up unannounced to his actual, literal house, but still. This is a lot different.

This is interdimensional.

And yes, it’s a bad and completely baffling situation, but Joaquin can’t help but feel a tiny thrill at the thought. His problems are interdimensional now. How many high schoolers can say that?

He promptly forgets about the cool factor of his morning when the main floor comes into view. There are several desks and a few annoyed-looking detectives between them, but that doesn’t stop Joaquin’s gaze from instantly snapping to the two lounging figures in the holding cell.

“Holy shit,” he says. It’s a perfectly fair thing to say.

From behind bars, Taako, from TV and the end of the world, lifts a lazy finger in greeting. “Took you long enough, huh?”

A bright red jacket hits him in the shoulder. “Don’t be fucking rude,” says Lup, and waves. “ ’Sup, kiddo?”

It occurs to Joaquin just then that he can never, ever tell his friends about this, because if they find out he’s met two of the Seven Birds in person, he can forget about his world savior glory forever. “Uh… I’m good,” he calls, doing his best to ignore the outright stares he’s receiving from the personnel in the room. “All good over here! Yeah.”

One of the detectives comes around her desk and shoots a dubious look at the holding cell. “You called Joaquin Terrero?”

“Is that his full name?” says Taako. Lup’s jacket nails him in the arm again and he tries to snatch it out of her hands, to no avail.

The detective sighs and turns to Joaquin with something suspended between an apologetic smile and an all-out grimace. “They’ve been like that ever since we brought them in. Um, Mr. Terrero—”

“Joaquin is fine.” Ever since Story and Song, he’s been called Mr. Terrero or sir just about everywhere he goes. Weirdness aside, it makes Joaquin feel like he’s always at a parent-teacher conference. “So what, uh… what happened?”

Detective Alvarez, according to her name tag, motions for him to sit down. He does, and she takes a seat across from him, still eyeing the holding cell as Taako and Lup bicker. “There were a few misdemeanors,” she says.

Misdemeanor means not serious. Joaquin silently thanks his social studies teacher.

“The thing is,” the detective continues, “these misdemeanors weren’t standard. I mean—” She sighs. “For one, they just appeared in the middle of a busy street and scared several pedestrians half to death. They said it was thanks to those belts.”

Only then does Joaquin notice the belts. He’d lumped it in with the rest of the twins’ eccentric style, but there they are, silvery and slim and otherwise pretty innocuous. “And that’s how they got here?”

“It’s science, babe,” Lup interjects. “We got it under control.”

She hooks a thumb over her belt with a conspicuous wink, and Detective Alvarez turns pink and clears her throat. “Of course,” she says, hurriedly. “That’s just not the point.”

There’s a look of extreme discomfort on her face, and Joaquin doesn’t blame her. It had been enough of an ordeal getting a call from one of the Seven Birds, nevermind keeping two of them in a holding cell. (There’s a joke there about birds and cages that he’ll have to remember for later.) “Then they went to a restaurant and tried to pay for their food with… well, this.”

Detective Alvarez opens a drawer, and Joaquin’s eyes go wide at the sight of several large, priceless-looking gems in an evidence bag. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, save for an awkward-sounding croak. He’d known Taako was rich—not rich.

Speaking of which. From across the room, Taako cups a hand around his mouth and calls out. “Those the jewels? They’re my husband’s paycheck, for gods’ sake! Are you gonna—are you tryin’ to tell me Death isn’t legit?”

The look on Detective Alvarez’s face seems to imply they’ve had this conversation before. “You can’t pay for food with giant jewels.”

“You can if you’re not a fuckin’ coward,” Taako murmurs, and slouches back against the wall. He takes another jacket to the chest for that.

Joaquin takes a deep breath. “Okay. Uh, Detective Alvarez, I’m really sorry that these two caused a disturbance.”

“Listen, these aren’t—the misdemeanors aren’t serious. We won’t hold them, and we won’t fine them—I mean, they’re the Birds,” says Detective Alvarez. “It wouldn’t be great for the universe anyway. The precinct just wanted to make sure they have someone here who can…” She lowers her voice. “You know, keep an eye on them?”

“They’re not super great at being on Earth, huh?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Joaquin promises. “I’m really sorry, Detective.”

Detective Alvarez offers up a weary smile. “You’re a good kid. Just get them out of here, okay?”

“I will,” says Joaquin.

He does.

They emerge into a bright, warm afternoon, and Taako hisses, yanking a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “Sheesh. How long’s it been? A year?”

“An hour,” says Lup, checking her watch.

“Oh.” He plucks one of the tacos from the bag in Joaquin’s hand. “Cheers, kid. Not as good as mine, but it—it’ll do, I guess.”

“Thanks for bailing us out.” Lup nudges Joaquin and flashes a brilliant smile. She’s definitely more intimidating in person, and also a full head taller than him, which means he has to crane his neck and squint to see her against the sun. “So, you’re taking us on a tour, right?”

Joaquin blinks. “I—uh, I have school.”

Taako snorts, which, yeah, he deserves that. “That’s gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“Lame,” Lup chimes in. She picks the other taco out of the bag and says, “Give us the grand tour, kid! We’re only here for… uh, two more hours, looks like. Gotta make the most of our time before we head back home.”

“Oh, yeah, that—you never said what you were doing here?”

“Visiting you, duh,” she says. “Taako wouldn’t shut up about how he realized your potential, and—”

“Yeah, speaking of shutting up!” says Taako, his voice shrill. He takes an unceremonious bite of the taco and tugs the brim of his hat a little lower. “You gonna show us around, or what?”

“That’s not speaking of shutting up, ’Ko.”

“Don’t—you don’t get to lecture me on semantics—”

Joaquin bites back a smile and says, “You guys wanna see the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” they say as one, and high-five without having to look. Drift compatible, Joaquin thinks. It really is a perfect day, and a little magical—not in the actual sense, of course, but there’s something thrilling about knowing school will drag on without him. He’s got some world savior stuff to do; if showing around two of the Seven Birds counts as world savior stuff, of course, and he’s decided that it does.

Of course, that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences to his actions. But Joaquin’s pretty smart, and he’s already thought of a contingency plan.

“Um, hey, so,” he starts, as they set off down the street. “Lup, uh—I’ve got this friend, Stephanie, and she would kill me if I didn’t get an autograph, or something… do you have, uh, a headshot or something like that? Like, she’s been dying to know if you still have an undercut…”

#frnkiequinn #ask #the adventure zone #taz balance #taako #lup #joaquin #fic #mine #i seriously cannot emphasize enough how fun this was to write #also: spot the seren reference!

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mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl · 6 years

Text

Bared to him-Seungri Pt.11

This flipping gorgeous moodboard was made by @jimins-crooked-tooth thank you so much!

Genre:Smut/Angst/Fluff

Pairing:Seungri x Reader

Rated: NC-17

Wordcount:4,875

Masterlist

Disclaimer:REMEMBER THIS IS ONLY AN EDIT OF ORIGINAL BOOK CALLED BARED TO YOU BY SYLVIA DAY!

I quickly clicked through other links in the digest to find the same picture with similar captions and articles. Alarmed, I sat back and thought about what this meant. If one kiss was headline news, what chance would Seunghyun and I have to make a relationship work?

My hands weren't quite steady as I closed the browser tabs. I hadn't considered the press coverage, but I should have. "Damn it."

Anonymity was my friend. It protected me from my past. It protected my family from embarrassment, and Seunghyun , too. I didn't even have any social networking accounts so people who weren't actively in my life couldn't find me.

A thin, invisible wall between me and exposure was gone.

"Hell," I breathed, finding myself in a painful situation I could have avoided if I'd dedicated any of my brain cells to something other than Seunghyun.

There was also his reaction to this mess to consider...I cringed inwardly just thinking about it. And my mother. It wouldn't be long before she was calling and blowing everything out of -

"Shit." Remembering that she didn't have my new cell number, I picked up my desk phone and called my other voice mail to see if she'd already tried to reach me. I winced when I heard that my mailbox was full.

I hung up and grabbed my purse; then headed off to lunch, knowing Hae would help me put it all in perspective. I was so flustered when I reached the lobby level that I rushed out of the elevator with my only thought being to find my roommate. When I spotted him, I didn't take note of anyone else until Seunghyun sidestepped smoothly in front of me and blocked my path.

"Y/N." He frowned down at me. Cupping my elbow, he turned me slightly around. That's when I saw the two women and a man who'd hidden him from my view.

I managed to find a smile for them. "Hello."

Seunghyun introduced me to his lunch dates. Then he excused us and tugged me off to the side. "What's wrong? You're upset."

"It's all over the place," I whispered. "A picture of us together."

He nodded. "I've seen it."

I blinked up at him, confused at his nonchalance. "You're okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be? For once, they're reporting the truth."

A sneaking suspicion niggled at me. "You planned it. You planted the story."

"Not entirely true," he said smoothly. "The photographer happened to be there. I just gave him a picture worth printing, and told PR to make it clear who you are and what you are to me."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"You have your way of dealing with jealousy and I have mine. We're both off the market and now everyone knows it. Why is that a problem for you?"

"I was worried about your reaction, but there's more...There are things you don't know and I - " I took a deep, shaky breath. "It can't be that way between us, Seunghyun. We can't be public. I don't want - Damn it. I'll embarrass you."

"You couldn't. It's not possible." He brushed a loose lock of hair off my face. "Can we talk about this later? If you need me - "

"No, it's okay. Go."

Hae came over. Dressed in baggy black cargo pants and a V-neck white undershirt, he still managed to look expensive. "Everything all right?"

"Hi, Hae. Everything's fine." Seunghyun squeezed my hand. "Enjoy your lunch and don't worry."

He could say that because he didn't know better.

And I didn't know whether or not he'd still want me once he did.

Hae faced me as Seunghyun walked away. "Worry about what? What's wrong?"

"Everything." I sighed. "Let's get out of here, and I'll tell you over lunch."

"Well," Hae murmured, looking at the link I'd forwarded from my smartphone to his. "That's some kiss. The dip was a great touch. He couldn't look more into if he tried."

"That's the thing." I took another big gulp of water. "He did try."

He shoved his phone into his pocket. "Last week you kept shooting him down for only wanting your vagina. This week he's publicizing that he's in a committed, passionate relationship with you, and you're still unhappy. I'm starting to feel bad for the guy. He can't win for trying."

That stung. "Reporters are going to dig, Hae, and they're going to find dirt. And since it's juicy dirt they're going to splash it all over hell and back, and it's going to embarrass Seunghyun."

"Baby girl." He set his hand over mine. "Stanton buried all that."

Stanton. I straightened. I hadn't thought of my stepfather. He'd see the disaster coming and keep a lid on it because he knew what the revelation would do to my mother. Still..."I'll have to talk to Seunghyun about it. He has a right to be warned."

Just the thought of that conversation made me miserable.

Hae knew how my brain worked. "If you think he's going to cut and run, I think you're wrong. He looks at you like you're the only person in the room."

I poked at my tuna Caesar salad. "He's got a few demons of his own. Nightmares. He's closed himself off, I think, because of whatever's eating at him."

"But he's let you in."

And he'd already shown hints of how possessive he could be about that connection. I accepted that because it was a flaw I shared, but still...

"You're analyzing this to death, Y/N," Hae said. "You're thinking the way he feels about you has to be a fluke or a mistake. Someone like him couldn't really be into you for your big heart and sharp mind, right?"

"My self-esteem isn't that bad," I protested.

He took a sip of his champagne. "Isn't it? So tell me something you think he likes about you that doesn't have to do with sex or codependency."

I thought about it and came up empty, which made me scowl.

"Right," he went on with a nod. "And if Lee is anywhere near as messed up as we are, he's thinking the same thing in reverse, wondering what a hot babe like you sees in a guy like him. You've got money, so what has he got going for him besides being a stud who keeps screwing up?"

Sitting back in my chair, I absorbed everything he'd said. "Hae, I love you madly."

He grinned. "Back atcha, sweets. My advice, for what it's worth? Couples therapy. It's always been my plan to get into it when I find the one I want to settle down with. And try to have fun with him. You've got to have as many good times as bad or it all becomes too painful and too much work."

I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

"For what?" He shrugged off my gratitude with an elegant wave of his hand. "It's easy to pick apart someone else's life. You know I couldn't get through my rough spots without you."

"Which you don't have any of now," I pointed out, shifting the focus to him. "You're about to be splashed across a Times Square billboard. You won't be my secret any longer. Should we upgrade dinner from pizza to something more worthy of the occasion? How about we haul out that case of Cristal Stanton gave us?"

"Now you're talking."

"Movies? Anything in particular you want to watch?"

"Whatever you want. I wouldn't want to screw with your big-dumb-blow-'em-up movie genius."

I grinned, feeling better as I'd known I would after an hour with Hae. "You'll let me know if I'm too dense to figure out when you and Trey want to be alone."

"Ha! Don't worry about that. Your tempestuous love life is making me feel dull and boring. I could use a hot, sweaty bang with my own stud."

"You just had a maintenance closet romp a couple days ago!"

He sighed. "I'd nearly forgotten. How sad is that?"

"It isn't when your eyes are laughing."

I'd just gotten back to my desk when I checked my smartphone and found a text from Seunghyun letting me know he had fifteen minutes to spare at quarter to three. I nursed a secret rush of anticipation for the next hour and a half, having decided to take Hae's advice and have a little fun. Seunghyun and I would have to wade through the ugliness of my past soon enough, but for now, I could give us both something to smile about.

I texted him just before I left, letting him know I was on my way. Considering the time constraints, we couldn't waste a minute. Seunghyun must have felt the same way, because I found Scott waiting for me at reception when I reached the Lee Industries waiting area. He walked me back after the receptionist buzzed me in.

"How's your day been?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Great so far. Yours?"

I smiled back. "I've had worse."

Seunghyun was on the phone when I entered his office. His tone was clipped and impatient as he told the person on the other end of the line that they should be able to manage the job without him having to oversee it personally.

He held up one finger to me to tell me he'd be another minute. I responded by blowing a big bubble with the gum I was chewing and popping it loudly.

His brows shot up, and he hit the buttons to close the doors and frost the glass wall.

Grinning, I sauntered over to his desk and hopped onto it, curling my fingers around the lip and swinging my legs. He popped the next bubble I blew with a quick jab of his finger. I pouted prettily.

"Deal with it," he said with quiet authority to whoever was on the phone. "It'll be next week before I can get out there and waiting will set us back further. Stop talking. I have something time-sensitive on my desk and you're keeping me away from it. I guarantee that's not improving my disposition. Fix what needs fixing and report back to me tomorrow."

He returned the phone to its cradle with suppressed violence. "Y/N - "

I held up one hand to cut him off and wrapped my gum in a Post-it I took from a dispenser on his desk. "Before you reprimand me, Mr. Lee, I want to say that when we reached an impasse in our merger discussions at the hotel yesterday I shouldn't have walked out. It didn't help to resolve the situation. And I know I didn't react very well to the PR issue with the photo. But still...Even though I've been a naughty secretary, I think I should be given another chance to excel."

His gaze narrowed as he studied me, assessing and reevaluating the situation on the fly. "Did I ask for your opinion on the appropriate action to take, Miss Tramell?"

I shook my head and looked up at him from beneath my lashes. I could see the lingering frustration from his phone call falling away from him, replaced by his growing interest and arousal.

Hopping down from the desk, I sidled closer and smoothed his immaculate tie with both hands. "Can't we work something out? I do possess a wide variety of useful skills."

He caught me by the hips. "Which is one of the many reasons you're the only woman I've ever considered for the position."

Warmth flowed through me at his words. Boldly cupping his cock in my hand, I fondled him through his slacks. "Maybe I should reapply myself to my duties? I could demonstrate some of the ways I'm uniquely qualified to assist you."

Seunghyun hardened with delectable swiftness. "Such initiative, Miss Tramell. But my next meeting is less than ten minutes away. Also, I'm not accustomed to exploring job enrichment opportunities in my office."

I freed the button of his fly and lowered his zipper. With my lips to his jaw, I whispered, "If you think there's anywhere I won't make you come, you'll have to revisit and revise."

"Y/n," he breathed, his eyes hot and tender. He cupped my throat, his thumbs brushing over my jaw. "You're unraveling me. Do you know that? Are you doing it on purpose?"

I reached inside his boxer briefs and wrapped my hands around him, offering up my lips for a kiss. He obliged me, taking my mouth with a fierceness that left me breathless.

"I want you," he growled.

I sank to my knees on the carpeted floor, pulling his pants down enough to give me the access I needed.

He exhaled harshly. "Y/n, what are you - "

My lips flowed over the wide crown. He reached back for the edge of his desk, his hands curling around the lip with white-knuckled force. I held him with both hands and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of his skin and his uniquely appealing scent made me moan. I felt the vibration ripple through his entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in his chest.

Seunghyun touched my cheek. "Lick it."

Aroused by the command, I fluttered my tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded me with a hot burst of preacum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, I hollowed my cheeks and drew rhythmically, hoping for more.

I wished I had the time to make it last. Drive him crazy...

He made a sound filled with the sweetest agony. "God, Y/n...your mouth. Keep sucking. Like that...hard and deep."

I was so turned on by his pleasure I squirmed. His hands pushed into my bound hair, pulling and tugging at the roots. I loved how he started out with tenderness, then grew rougher as the lust he felt for me overwhelmed his control.

The soft bite of pain made me hungrier, greedier. My head bobbed as I pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while I sucked and stroked the crest with my mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and I slid the flat of my tongue along them, tilting my head to find and caress each one.

He swelled, growing thicker and longer. My knees were uncomfortable, but I didn't care; my gaze was riveted to Seunghyun as his head fell back and he fought for breath.

"Y/n, you suck me so good." He held my head still and took over. Thrusting his hips. Fucking my mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.

The thought made me crazed, the image in my mind of how we must look: Seunghyun in all his urbane sophistication, standing at the desk where he ruled an empire, stroking his big cock in and out of my greedy mouth.

I gripped his straining thighs in both hands, frantically working my lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of his powerful virility. I cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.

"Ah, Y/N." His voice was a guttural rasp. His grip tightened in my hair. "You're making me come."

The first spurt of seman was so thick, I struggled to swallow. Mindless in his pleasure, Seunghyun was thrusting against the back of my throat, his cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into my mouth. My eyes watered and my lungs burned, but still I pumped my fists, milking him. His entire body shuddered as I took everything he had. The sounds he made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying I'd ever heard.

I licked him clean, marveling at how he didn't fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. He was still capable of fucking me senseless and more than willing to, I knew. But there was no time and I was happy about that. I wanted to do this for him. For us. For me, really, because I needed to know I could indulge in a selfless sexual act without feeling taken advantage of.

"I have to go," I murmured, standing and pressing my lips to his. "I hope the rest of your day is awesome, and your business dinner tonight, too."

I started to move away, but he caught my wrist, his gaze on the clock readout on his desk phone. I noticed my picture then, sitting in a place of prominence where he'd see it all day.

"Y/N...Damn it. Wait."

I frowned at his tone, which sounded anxious. Frustrated.

He quickly restored his appearance, tucking himself back into his boxer briefs and straightening the tail of his shirt so he could fasten his pants. There was something sweet in watching him pull himself back together, restoring the façade he wore for the world while I knew at least a little of the man beneath it.

Tugging me close, Seunghyun pressed his lips to my brow. His hands moved through my hair to unclip my tortoise barrette. "I didn't get you off."

"No need." I loved the feel of his hands on my scalp. "That rocked just the way it was."

He was overly focused on fixing my hair, his cheeks flushed from his orgasm. "I know you need an even exchange," he argued gruffly. "I can't let you leave feeling like I used you."

A bittersweet tenderness pierced me. He'd listened. He cared.

I cupped his face in my hands. "You did use me, with my permission, and it was seriously hot. I wanted to give you this, Seunghyun . Remember? I warned you. I wanted you to have this memory of me."

His eyes widened with alarm. "Why the fuck do I need memories when I have you? Y/N, if this is about the photo - "

"Shut up and enjoy the high." We didn't have the time to get into the photo issue now and I didn't want to. It was going to ruin everything. "If we'd had an hour, I still wouldn't let you get me off. I'm not keeping score with you, ace. And honestly, you're the first guy I can say that to. Now, I have to go. You have to go."

I started away again, but he caught me back.

Scott's voice came through the speaker. "Excuse me, Mr. Lee. But your three o'clock is here."

"It's okay, Seunghyun," I assured him. "You're coming over tonight, right?"

"Nothing could keep me away."

I shoved up onto my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "We'll talk then."

After work, I took the stairs down to the ground floor to feel less guilty about skipping the gym and seriously regretted it by the time I reached the lobby. Lack of sleep from the night before had left me wiped out. I was contemplating taking the subway rather than walking when I saw Seunghyun's Bentley at the curb. When the driver got out and greeted me by name, I halted abruptly, surprised.

"Mr. Lee asked that I take you home," he said, looking smart in his black suit and chauffeur hat. He was an older gentleman with graying red hair, pale blue eyes, and the softest of cultured accents.

As much as my legs ached, I was grateful for the offer. "Thank you...? I'm sorry - what was your name?"

"Angus, Miss Tramell."

How had I not remembered that? The name was so cool, it made me smile. "Thank you, Angus."

He tipped his hat. "My pleasure."

I slid through the back door he opened for me and as I settled into the seat, I caught a glimpse of the handgun he wore in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket. It appeared that Angus, like Clancy, was both bodyguard and driver.

We pulled away from the curb and I asked, "How long have you been working for Mr. Lee, Angus?"

"Eight years now."

"Quite a while."

"I've known him longer than that," he volunteered, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. "I drove him to school when he was a boy. He hired me away from Mr. Vidal when the time came."

Once again, I tried to picture Seunghyun as a child. No doubt he'd been beautiful and charismatic even then.

Had he enjoyed "normal" sexual relationships when he was a teenager? I couldn't imagine that women weren't throwing themselves at him even then. And as innately sexual as he was, I imagined he'd been a horny teen.

Digging in my purse, I pulled out my keys and leaned forward to set them on the front passenger seat. "Can you see that Seunghyun gets those? He's supposed to come over after whatever it is he's doing tonight and depending on how late that is, I might not hear him knock."

"Of course."

Paul opened the door for me when we arrived at my apartment and he greeted Angus by name, reminding me that Seunghyun owned the building. I waved to both men, told the front desk Seunghyun would be coming over later, and then took myself upstairs. Hae's raised brows when he opened the door to me made me laugh.

"Seunghyun's coming over later," I explained, "but I'm feeling so hammered right now I may not stay up long. So I gave him my keys to let himself in. Did you order already?"

"I did. And I tossed a few bottles of Cristal in the wine fridge."

"You're the best." I shoved my bag at him.

I showered and called my mom from the phone in my room, wincing at her strident, "I have been trying to reach you for days!"

"Mom, if it's about Lee Seunghyun - "

"Well, of course, it's partly about him! For goodness' sake, Y/N. You're being called the significant woman in his life. How could I not want to talk about that?"

"Mom - "

"But there's also the appointment you asked me to make with Dr. Petersen." The note of smug amusement in her voice made me smile. "We're scheduled to meet with him Thursday at six o'clock in the evening. I hope that works for you. He doesn't do many evening appointments."

I plopped backward onto my bed with a sigh. I'd been so distracted by work and Seunghyun that the appointment had slipped my mind. "Thursday at six will be fine. Thank you."

"Now, then. Tell me about Lee..."

When I emerged from my bedroom dressed in jersey pants and a San Diego State University sweatshirt, I found Trey seated with Hae in the living room. Both men stood when I came in and Trey gifted me with an open, friendly smile.

"I'm sorry I look so ragged," I said sheepishly, running my fingers through my damp ponytail. "Taking the stairs at work almost killed me today."

"Elevator take the day off?" he asked.

"Nope. My brain did. What the hell was I thinking?" Spending the night with Seunghyun was enough of a workout.

The doorbell rang and Hae went to get it while I headed into the kitchen for the Cristal. I joined him at the breakfast bar as he signed the credit card receipt and the look in his eyes when he glanced at Trey had me hiding a smile.

There were a lot of those looks going back and forth between the two men as the evening progressed. And I had to agree with Hae that Trey was a hottie. Dressed in distressed jeans, matching vest, and a long-sleeved shirt, the aspiring veterinarian looked casual but well put together. He was very different personality-wise from the type of guy Hae usually dated. Trey seemed more grounded; not quite somber, but definitely not flighty. I thought he'd be a good influence on Hae, if they stayed together long enough.

The three of us made it through two bottles of Cristal and two pizzas between us, plus all of Demolition Man before I called it a night. I urged Trey to stay for Driven to round out the Stallone mini-marathon; then I went to my room and changed into a sexy black baby doll I'd been given as part of a bridesmaid gift bag - sans the matching panties.

Leaving a candle burning for Seunghyun , I crashed.

I woke to darkness and the scent of Seunghyun 's skin, the lights and sounds of the city shut out by soundproofed windows and blackout drapes.

Seunghyun slid over me, a moving shadow, his bare skin cool to the touch. His mouth slanted over mine, kissing me slow and deeply, tasting of mint and his own unique flavor. My hands slid down his sleekly muscular back, my legs parting so he could settle comfortably between them. The weight of him against me made my heart sigh and my blood warm with desire.

"Well, hello to you, too," I said breathlessly when he let me up for air.

"You'll come with me next time," he murmured in that sexy and decadent voice, nibbling at my throat.

"Will I?" I teased.

He reached down and cupped my butt in his hand, squeezing and lifting me into a deft roll of his hips. "Yes. I missed you, Y/N."

I ran my fingers through his hair, wishing I could see him. "You haven't known me long enough to miss me."

"Shows how much you know," Seunghyun scoffed, sliding downward and nuzzling between my breasts.

I gasped as his mouth covered my nipple and sucked through the satin, deep pulls that echoed in the clenching of my core. He moved to my other breast, his hand pushing up the hem of my baby doll. I arched into him, lost to the magic of his mouth as it moved over my body, his tongue dipping into my navel, then sliding lower.

"And you missed me, too," he purred with masculine satisfaction, the tip of his middle finger rimming my cleft. "You're swollen and wet for me."

He pulled my legs over his shoulders and licked between my folds, soft and provocative laps of hot velvet against my sensitive flesh. My hands fisted in the sheet, my chest heaving as he circled my cl*t with the tip of his tongue, then nudged the hypersensitive knot of nerves. I keened, my h*ps moving restlessly into the devious torment, my muscles tightening with the clawing need to come.

The light, teasing flutters were driving me insane, giving me just enough to make me writhe but not enough to get me off. " Seunghyun , please."

"Not yet."

He tortured me, coaxing my body to the brink of orgasm, and then letting me slide back down. Over and over. Until sweat misted my skin and my heart felt like it would burst. His tongue was tireless and diabolical, cleverly focusing on my cl*t until a single stroke would set me off, then moving lower to thrust into me. The soft, shallow plunges were maddening, the flickering against the nerve-laden tissues making me desperate enough to beg shamelessly.

"Please, Seunghyun ...let me come...I need to come, please."

"Shh, angel...I'll take care of you."

He finished me with a tenderness that made the orgasm roll through me like a crashing wave, building and swelling and spreading through me in a warm rush of pleasure.

He threaded his fingers with mine when he came over me again, restraining my arms. The head of his cock aligned with the slick entrance of my body and he pushed inexorably into me. I moaned, shifting to accommodate the heavy surge of his penis.

Seunghyun's breath gusted hard and humid against my throat, his big frame trembling as he slid carefully inside me. "You're so soft and warm. Mine, Y/N. You're mine."

I wrapped my legs around his hips, welcoming him deeper, feeling his buttocks flex and release against my calves as he demonstrated to my body that it would indeed take his thick length all the way to the root.

With our hands linked, he took my mouth and began to move, gliding in and out with languid skill, the tempo precise and relentless yet smooth and easy. I felt every rock-hard inch of him, felt the unmistakable reiteration that every inch of me was his to possess. He drove the message home repeatedly until I was gasping against his mouth, thrashing restlessly beneath him, my hands bloodless from the strength of my grip on his.

He spoke heated praise and encouragement, telling me how beautiful I was...how perfect I felt to him...how he'd never stop...couldn't stop. I came with a sharp cry of relief, vibrating with the ecstasy of it, and he was right there with me. His pace quickened for several slamming thrusts; then he climaxed with a hiss of my name, spilling into me.

I sank lax into the mattress, sweaty and boneless and replete.

"I'm not done," he whispered darkly, adjusting his knees to increase the force of his thrusts. The pace remained expertly measured, each plunge staking a claim - your body exists to serve me.

Biting my lip, I fought back the sounds of helpless pleasure that might've broken the tranquility of the night...and betrayed the frightening depths of emotion I was beginning to feel for Lee Seunghyun.

49 notes · View notes

aquacai · 6 years

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compilation of bts/army tweets i retweeted but doesn’t actually appear on my profile (TWITTER WHY)

TEXT POSTS:

Namgi are actual prodigies, how did bang pd just casually pick em up like that

ARMYs give BTS amazing promo but it only works cause...

And just in case anyone doesn't know, we call K-army "diamonds" because...

namjoon: i made espresso!! jungkook: i wanna try it namjoon: u hate bitter coffee

seokjin couldnt give less of a shit!!!!

Hoseok is Rock Lee

We have faves that are so willing to educate themselves...

I actually adore the final verses of The Last so much.

Hobi’s pseudo-triple entendres

why is this something i feel like rap line does in the studio

the funniest part of this run ep was when taehyung said...

BTS teletubbies @ MBC Gayo 2017

every update this year

top three betrayals are bighit not releasing tony montana feat jimin...

When I first began to fully get into BTS, I had a pretty jaded view...

Dear BTS 2013, its ARMY 2018.

MY DNA

*Yoongi's dating rumour*

this episode (run ep. 46) was so full of innuendos

fake trans on jin’s supposed feelings about the SIN separation

whoever is directing run should be reigned as the nation's hero...

What do you call a company that surpassed and outsold the big3?

bts are the definition of hyping ppl up for doing the bare minimum

an actual conversation that happened (run bts ep 46)

suran suga again and army

So I suddenly remember when Namjoon said these during Wings Tour The Final...

She was pushed by another members of staff while doing namjoon’s makeup

I WAS IN THE SHOWER BLASTING BTS AND ONCE I GOT OUT...

to the female staff who consoled jimin and keeps saying “you didn't mess up”...

they went from pardon to what was that

What happened at the first two episodes just made me respect Namjoon more.

on a serious note, it would be nice if when bts gets a special someone...

Next time during BTS concert, instead of screaming “encore encore��...

yall ever wanna think about how namjoon said that jimin needs lots of love and attention and thats probably why he shared a room with hoseok bc thats what exactly hoseok gives him

if I have any feeling towards BTS thats stronger than Love then it's RESPECT

the reason Jin was going on and on with his (R)evolution (E)volution (D)rop in the ocean thing might be because he was "hinting" at Youtube Red

one day, there will be a last...

namjoon came to post a selfie and left with a dating scandal

remember when hobi said “i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for bangtan”...

Namjoon admitting that he’s also “just a kid” ...

"The reason I make music is because, after all, I am also afraid of the world."

Yoongi's scalp is braver than any US marine

Sometimes we forget that Namjoon is also just trying to figure out the world.

PUMA fansign: thank you for making music that changes the world

Everyone has a musical preference & enjoy when their artists reflect that.

let me talk about taehyung and how amazing he is as a friend

i like when seokjin shares stuff about his childhood, we get to know his orijin

BTS is also for redefining masculinity (hiphop is their way of life)

from humble beginnings to legends

burn the stage makes me realize that whenever rm post photos of nature ...

what exactly makes namjoon the sexiest for me ...

the reason seokjin’s chest and shoulders are so wide

Bighit: O! R YU DEAD, 2?

"What's your favourite song currently?"

the mask guy: u didnt bring anything to exchange so i cant help u

namjoons exchange [in the Fake Love Teaser 1] is so funny to me...

here are some of my favourite joon interviews

"How did you join BTS?"

jin: i’ve been doing it for 4 years

I hate it when people say armys have two brain cells like bold of you to think we even have a brain (sarcasm lol)

i’m a new generation anpanman

When the Billboard news was released this morning... (wisha)

interviewer: so what are your goals?

sometimes i still think about how the fanchant of cypher pt4...

"Hoe calm down, my shoe lace is untied"

“itʼs ok, we all found bts when we needed them in our lives the most”

i’m so sorry but it’s fake love

i want to see the world from taehyung’s view

just for youuuu

i love that taehyung is never anything but proud when talking abt the fact that he’s gained weight

i bet taehyung gives the best hugs

Our bomb is like a permanent reminder...

remember when we were like omg hixtape‘s mv gonna have bomb ass choreography lmaooo

no but it's so cute bts call it family pictures and not group pictures??

there's an undeniable sexual energy between yoongi nd every trophy...

bh staff: describe yourself in one word

jin: man, blowjobs sure are a mouthful (incorrect bts quotes)

THREADS:

I came across the Deloitte 2018 Media and Entertainment Industry Outlook

hoseok is one of the best dancers in the industry...

meaning behind whalien 52

KPOP101 LESSON 8: THE MINIMALIST ART OF THE KOREAN BALLAD

getting people flustered is hoseok culture - a thread

MY TOP 10 BTS SONGS (by KommonSense)

an explanation of rap lingo BTS use in their lyrics: a thread

I have some free time so like for an unpopular opinion. (hobybIo)

My Favorite Soft BTS Moments - A Thread! (odie)

Burn The Stage made me feel extremely vulnerable. (Aileen)

as Kings of Korean History [A thread] (KommonSense)

a thread of my favorite bts-related tumblr posts

Why and how the BTS rapline's experience with rap mirrors that of OG rappers

Everytime a BTS member was supportive of the LGBT community in any way

Namjoon (RM) Owning Up to His Mistakes

odie

Bangtan dancing styles thread

hoseok is one of the best dancers in the industry

Sky’s experience as a veteran ARMY

Jimin’s gliding technique (more threads on his dance technique)

analysis of how well DNA is structured as an EDM-pop song

I took a closer look into BTS’ intro Serendipity

Park Jimin is one of the most graceful and beautiful dancers in the industry

ok newbie kpop stans, welcome to history class (fandom shit)

An Introduction for the New, the Confused, and the Curious

BTS introduction thread

Science & literature are intrinsic to understanding how BTS and ARMY

how Singularity choreography coincides with lyrics

WHAT BTS ACTUALLY SAID - A MEGA THREAD

BTS song recommendations based on genres: a thread

rap line’s verses analysis

Mnet Comebackshow (LY:Tear) pre-recording review - THREAD -

"remember when" (BTS edition)

I'm watching a BTS music video and I don't know what the hell is going on, a thread:

LY: TEAR - MUSICAL ANALYSIS.

You know why I never will trust or listen to people who say "I left because of the fandom"

Type out what the bighit intro sounds like

Tyra Banks and her biological sons; a thread:

a thread about how BTS uses their music in their storytelling

for hot100, bts did what fans suggested

"Silly Little Trivia: Literal Choreography" thread for Fake Love

UNDERSTANDING BUniverse

BTS showing LGBT+ representation and support, a thread (this, too)

BTS meets Western standards of “cool” established by 1960s music, particularly rock ethics

BTS’ success: human brand x fan relationship

to celebrate bts festa, here is a thread of army stan twt’s best moments

MEME PICS/VIDS:

Jimin in the Danger mv

save Cook-Jin

Hope as mom : can you even get in any college with these grades?

Namgi & their annoyingly jumpy kids

IM WHEEZING JIN DID IT AGAIN

Everything makes sense noW (spider bite, cooky bite)

when they let you love them

When you need to wake em up

coming soon: Kim Seokjin only wanted a boyfriend

salt baes

EXPECTATION: "We aren't talking about BTS enough!

summary of run bts ep 46

i-armys and k-armys (suga’s ghost patting the clay)

Heaviest objects in the entire universe

"You will witness taehyung and jin fighting"

The battle of the year.

Hangsang with my thug

"Tangina mo," - J-Hope, 2018

choose your mineral water.

We all know... K-ARMYS & I-ARMYS

so who is giving them the candy?

I AM FUCKING DYING LAUGHING AT THEM IGNORING ALL THE KNOCKING IN THIS SCENARIO

I got bored and made ART

remember when namjoon asked for armys to edit him in because he missed the group picture with halsey

me listening to bts album skits

hoseok: hangsang with my thugs || his thugs:

we're finally getting the country comeback we deserve

fixed Jimin’s shots in LY:Tear

jungkook: made before i was born

this is what your food looks like inside the microwave

is this a theory?

is this an invitation?

He returned from the war

avatar Jimin

Yoongi and JK’s muffled convo

im just trying to take a nice screenshot....

ah yes, the four elements: fire, earth, water and snickers

Tyra Banks: The BTS ARMY is devoted and crazy (in a good way!) xD

BTS [MV] - You Will Never Do a Live Alone

the nation's #1 producer & bts' hype man

namjoon: you. me?

jungkook when he first met joon

fierce lil meow meow

RM spinebreaker???

this looks like rap line were a group of friends who stuck together...

V was written all along in Jimin’s tweet lol

jwimin-ssi

Hangs out with Tyra Banks ONCE...

learn the alphabet with BTS

TRANS:

When Bighit said they’ll donate 3% of LY album sales, u guys mocked us...

Kim Seokjin strange points

k-netz’ reaction on the Suga-Suran dating scandal

"Can bangtan fans please not get swayed by rumors?”

BTS trainer instagram re:B.T.S.

Music critic Kim, Youngdae nim’s MINI REVIEW on “Face Yourself”

Music critic Kim, Youngdae nim’s MINI REVIEW on “Euphoria”

bang pd and namjoon about his post supporting macklemore's song 'same love'

Konkuk uni student who became Seokjin's fan after speaking with him

I'm a multi-fan, I watch and listen to many idols, but I'm truly scared of BTS

an older woman(non-celebrity) admitted how much she loved BTS

So many warm teas in this article wrote by producer/musician Seiji Kameda

#LOVE_YOURSELF_轉_Tear Album HYYH Notes Translation Thread

180518 Love Yourself 轉 Tear - Thanks To Translations

“The lyrics in BTS’ album are so great Huge congrats to receiving at BBMA ”

response to #1 Billboard 200

BTS 2018 Festa Member’s profiles

VIDS:

KBS Happy Together 3 - Spring Day sung in karaoke room

imagine being this close to sunshine

Ashes - Lim Jeong Hee ft. BTS (2011)

kook's carelessness brought out his sunshine laugh just like that

Remember when bts proved to armys that they are all really spiderman

that time the cameraman was filming bts and jungkook started telling him...

i still get so soft over this the way jin hugged taehyung...

Seokjin killed it in this part in boy in luv

the sound of their footsteps is so satisfying omg

Remember when Jin and Ken met on a year end event rehearsal and they just...

Jungkook’s ‘yes’ and smile when Miri jumped through his arms...

seokjin and his interactions with camera men

Remember when Yoongi & Namjoon sang the high notes in Young Forever...

look at the difference between taekook and jinkook’s handshake lmao

this dance break has a special place in my heart :')

remember when Taehyung accidentally cut his real hair...

Nver forget that iris stevenson was the first one to believe in taehyung...

did yall notice that fdjghgd i’m shaking (run ep 46)

To remember the great SiN/YoonJin moment...

the wings era might be over but this snippet of each member’s solo songs...

Yes, Mom. This man right here. I love him. No more questions?

this is the best video of jin to ever exist

here’s jungkook having fun dancing to mama and lie

slush ft. jin

tell me why is it so funny that yoongi only opened 1/10 of his door n went back so fast

nothing but respect for my choreography leader

when jungkook opened the window well aware that it was raining

what makes you laugh? seokjin’s face

Bringing this back when taehyung was dancing nae nae...

SOMEBODY GIVE THIS BABY BLANKET AND BED...

i love this performance so fucking much!!!!

your ultimate mood booster (hobiiii)

HOLY SHIT MIN FUCKING YOONGI DID THAT

susko sobra ung bucket hats

THE WAY YOONGI AND HOSEOK SAY "RM" TOGETHER

remember when seokjin and hoseok were recognized by fans in america

jungkook imitated namjoon's finger heart and wink in a cute way

A compilation loop of Hoseok sneezing because it’s cute. Bless you!!

remember when jimin was hyping about their concert but hoseok

Hoseok left the group during Trainee days

heres 12 seconds of yoongi doing That Scream™ ...

this is what happens when you openly listen to bts without prejudice

when i say i want a rock song, i want THIS.

When Jungkook couldn’t pronounce Army bomb because of his Busan accent

U kno the thing joon does when he finds something?

reminding all of you that the special talent yoongi prepared is... imitating a doorbell

Here's a compilation of musicians getting shook by the sudden change to major in Jimin's 'Lie'

He actually blew a kiss how adorable

The fanboying level on this video is just

Hoseok doing background vocals/harmonising in Let Go (??)

...namjoon literally gets amused at the toy which blows a ball in the air...

NAMJOON DROPPED THE MIC HE WAS HOLDING AND JIN...

Lie rough instrumental

rough draft of Autumn Leaves, Young Forever, Wings (RM), Wings (JK)

Joon’s voice in the BBMA nomination teaser

Jin's reaction when I (sky) told him I brought him a present...

why BTS was nominated for BB TSA 2018

taehyung was fighting back his tears when they won TSA at 2017 BBMAs

Yoongi forgot his lines in Ma City and he just...

mannequin Tae

Bangtan ended ALL fashion weeks tonight !! (4th muster japan)

members cheering jimin up, wings tour macao

RM’s ending ment, Wings Tour the finale (Day 2?)

never forget bts' iconic reaction when they won their first daesang

When Jin was bowing, Jimin held him down and Jungkook immediately ran to sit in front of him.

jimin and seokjin debating whether dolphins could breathe underwater

look at tae's reaction when bang pd's voice broke

interviewer: what?

“DonT FiGht, Dont Fight!” :(((

RM: “we want to focus on our career”

Q: what's your favorite thing about yourself? yoongi: ᶤ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HOW JOON TRIED TO DO THE LIL DISNEY WAND THING WITH HIS FINGER IM HURTING

jungkook’s closeups

BTS with Ciara at the BBMAs 2018

don’t ever forget that seokjin is one hell of a snowboarder

“the reason why bts, who was not supported by big agencies, succeeded, is that they tried to read the world and to breathe [with the world] together”

this is what happens when u leave namjoon and jimin alone together

this video of seokjin being hype then instantly stops when his manager look at him will never be not funny

LMFAOOO WAIT TAEHYUNG AND NEYO WERE JAMMING TOGETHER

An exclusive interview with #BTS ! (MBC News)

i love this version of airplane pt. 2 so much (jk+jm part) (jimin mode~) yt link full

john cena getting asked whats his favorite song off love yourself tear

The female staff who video tapes BTS bangtan bombs is amazing

WHAT THE FUCK JUNGKOOK LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE SEOKJIN...

Q: Please say something to international ARMYs

awake (short harp cover)

airplane pt. 2 dance cover

compilation of yoongi stuff in raps

wHY IS JUNGKOOK LIKE THIS

the way he said "what's your name?" and shouted "michelle!"

full vid of the two links above

#ISeoulU bts vid 2015

Tyra Bank’s music vid for Fake Love

vmin in sync is scary

fake love original choreo

jungkook said ‘mic drop!’ after he stepped on the wire and made the mic fall

tae acting in euphoria

puppy jungkook is still the most ᵘʷᵘ :(

hobi jk mirror dance with finger heart (mcountdown)

ONEW WAS THROWING CONFETTI AT TAE PLEASE THATS SO CUTE

Look how Jiminie gave the trophy to Yoongi cuz baby boy knows

tae: so show me army: i’ll show you~ {music core)

minho and tae hugging (music core)

tae’s aegyo in board game run ep

look at taehyung acting all cute in the back

when seokjin goes like (•3•) its the cutest thing ever

wow jimin was that an accident

YOONGI REALLY IMITATED HIM IM SKFJDJ

What 시 (si; hour) is it?

SUGA: honestly, I rlly liked pro-wrestling

a fancam of taehyung spilling his water on his face

ARMY giving hobi a flower with his face on it (fansign) (180603)

BTS: *on their way to a very serious interview on one of Korea's biggest news channels*

yoonkok instant hug BV S1

sunud-sunod na aegyo in anpanman outfits

jungkook pulled off straps and threw down two straps then taejin picked them up

legends say this is the closest rep of how hoseok looks in real life

Kihyun really had the courage to throw confetti in yoongi's face tho

52 year-old man is a director of a company in Japan dancing DNA

I stan a king of fan service he's so adorable!

when taehyung was fake crying and jimin came & softly hugged him from behind

this or that game

jk imitating his hyungs (180607 fansign)

HOW UNSEE THIS IM LAUGHINF SO HARD shkhhh (awake)

biggest mystery in kpop - who's collecting who in the background??? (taejin?)

SEOKJIN ENDED THE PERFORMANCE DOING A FINGER HEART... 180607

hopekook's modified mirror dance 180607 mcountdown

jk reacting to ariana grande bbmas 2018

Look a joonie :( look at him go :(

REMEMBER WHEN HOSEOK SAID HE WAS CLINGY WITH YOONGI (BV2)...

noona fan giving hobi and jimin “allowance”

namjoon drunk-tweeting?

carbonara

LOOK AT LIL MEOW MEOW GO (basketball)

look at jimin’s reaction when a noona gave him a finger heart

they had to throw the yellow cloth at the finish of the performance...

OTHER PICS:

tae being so accepting in star king ;w;

i may be not here since 2013, but im still lucky to witnessed yeontan's lil growth

remember when bangtan was running late for their show...

NAMJOON’S REPLY TO THE SELCA JIN POSTED OF HIM...

hobi and his hearts

ep 1& 2 of B.T.S. has at least cleared up 2 main issues in this fandom

RM has a little #WednesdayWisdom from Burn The Stage.

This photo is a complete mess.

yoongi’s kind of humor is my favorite

Their biggest dream isn’t to break records, its to stay together for a long time.

They recorded their interviews for the documentary when they did Gayo track 15

what jimin said here was really interesting and great

the most powerful twins

They decided not to blur these faces of people who's behind BTS’ success.

BTS calls their staff with nicknames, noona or hyung...

it really went from edits to jungkook actually saying it

IM CRYING BIGHIT PAID FOR YOONGIS TUITON :((

LMFAO at none of them even touching the salad

tae’s uneven eyelids

when jin got allowance from his dad to buy steak...

LOOK AT YOONGI RUN SJDNDNDNDN

give me a better photo transition I'll wait #euphoria

love yourself 起 wonder (2018)

jin being peymous even pre-debut

THIS STILL GOTTA BE THE FUNNIEST THING JOON HAS EVER SAID

the most remarkable twins in history

a turkish tv show asked for ppl to send in pics w their siblings and someone sent in jin and jimin

taehyung’s a legend that listens to music on his laptop on the go

onigiri yoongi

MY MOTHER CAME INTO MY ROOM AND ASKED IF JIMIN IS MY BOYFRIEND

jung hoseok aka the king of mirror selcas

Tiny bestfriends vmin who have been inseparable since kindergarten AU

old bts pics I still can't believe exist: a thread

yoongi at namjoon's graduation (w/ hoseok)

I COMBINED TAEGI'S PICS TOGETHER AND OH MY GOD SJSB

"i put sticker on my carrier" yeah ryt

oh nothing just seokjin casually putting his LG G7 ThinQ at his jacket pocket

He show his flower uwu

taehyung accidentally becoming a meme on diplo's snapchat

Never forget Jungkook's Hongdae adventures

THANKS JIN for not killing jungkook

liam’s post of namjoon :D

that one time namjoon tweeted a picture of them with the caption of “we are all fools”

A 59-year-old friend of mine talking about Love Yourself:Tear

I was worried because I thought yoongi kept doing some kind of gang sign but--

This has to be the best reaction to a non-fan of BTS...

when you are sitting beside BTS but mcflurry ice cream is life

why is this exactly what all of their mixtapes sound like

dispatch - yoongi, fake love

taehyung’s chubby cheeks when he smiles

taehyung and his tea

OMFGGMFM LOOK AT Tyra Banks when boys went up for their award she’s a whole Mood I love her

BTS FESTA 2018 prediction

carry him again, jin

I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA CLOWN HIM

top10 mistranslations betrayal

Yoongi doing ᵗʰᵃᵗ smile

wide open yoongi

brigada eskwela stairs album art

jin flower petals (fansign)

namjoon vs svt jihoon

yoongi continuing his lil meow meow agenda

These two cuties just melted my whole heart (tae and tanie)

So... are we gonna talk about how they drew one stickman thicker than the rest

Low key promoted BTS the past 3 weeks in our hospital...

The exact same cat, same plant & same island taken 1 year apart. (ARMYSelca)

yoongi bunched up(?)

#bts #twitter #my post

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hexusproductions · 7 years

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Visit To Arkham

Title: Visit To Arkham Summary: Fey Morgan needs information from Arkham. The only problem is getting to it. Author’s Note: Set in the Codot-verse, with a CV version of Sorceress. Few things to remember: She hasn’t donned a costume or chosen a name yet, and she’s still finding as much information on as many people as she can (Think Enigma in Arkham Origins). She works in the GCPD’s files and archives, which is how she got access to half the stuff she already knows.

How would a distressed loved one walk? Concerned, a little quick, glancing around every so often but mainly staying focused ahead. There, that works.

Morgan moved quickly down the halls of Arkham Asylum, the little act she was putting up helping to hide her constant search for guards.

Honestly, she didn’t like going near Arkham. It was full of people that were deluded enough to try to kill her, and the less people that saw her face was better long-term. The aim was to get in and get out as fast as possible. Hopefully the map that the GCPD had on file was still up to date.

Morgan went down a different corridor to avoid a patrolling guard.

The archives had to be around here somewhere…

Morgan kept going, and she had to stop herself cursing when she realised she was going past the more ‘interesting’ cells. Aka, most of Gotham’s costume-wearing breed of criminal. Honestly, what idiot thought it was a good idea to keep them together?

“What? Who are you?”

Morgan smirked and held a finger to her lips before walking right past the cells, acting nervous again to seem like a poor, innocent young woman.

This was far too easy. They really should-

“Uh, Miss? You’re not meant to be down here.”

Shit.

Morgan stopped and turned around, flashing a small timid smile to the guard.

“Sorry,” She apologised, fiddling with her hands, before showing the visitor badge attached to her chest, “I’m visiting my brother, Daniel. The doctor’s say that he can’t come out of his cell today, but I usually visit because it makes him feel better.”

“I’m not sure if-“

“Mr Arkham- Sorry, Dr Arkham,” She giggled nervously and brushed her hair back, “I’m such a mess today, we haven’t been the same since Daniel was taken. Dr Arkham said it was okay, just this once.” She gave him a hopeful look and knew that she had made a good choice mentioning his boss. The guard looked her up and down, then nodded slowly.

“Alright. But don’t take long.” He walked back to his post, and Morgan bit back her grin until she was far enough away from him.

Ha! It worked!

She mentally patted herself on the back for hiding her accent well enough. It was difficult and she’d only just started learning how to, but ta-da! Morgan continued to smile as she came closer and closer to her destination. Just up ahead, turn right, second door on the left.

Morgan moved faster, nervous walk affected only by a want to turn back into her usual confident stride. She could practically smell those tapes…

“Excuse me.”

Morgan stopped again, turned, and quickly hid her body tensing.

Jonathan Crane.

Mother of fuck.

“Visitors aren’t allowed in this section of Arkham, miss.”

Dear lord the man was a tower. Her brain revved frantically as everything she had learned about Dr Jonathan Crane flashed through it. Psychologist, born in Georgia, a skilled chemist that had created a toxin that induces fear. Possibly experimenting with said toxin here at Arkham.

And here he was, standing in front of her. Morgan blinked before holding up her visitor badge.

“I’m visiting my brother. He’s meant to be somewhere around here, but he’s been misbehaving so he’s not allowed out of his cell to come to the visiting area. I explained all of this with a guard just before, sir, you can check with him if you need to.”

Good, but talk a little slower. You’re concerned about your brother, not confronting a serial killer.

Well, technically not…

Crane regarded her carefully, and Morgan gave a friendly but uncomfortable smile. He just had to think she was just as nervous about being back here.

“Well I’m sorry but visitors still aren’t allowed. It’s much too dangerous.”

Really? She never would have guessed.

Morgan reminded herself not to glance towards the door that led to the archives. It was right there…

“Please, I have to see him.” Morgan pleaded, going to touch his arm, “He’s my only family.” Jonathan stepped out of her touch, a little tensely, and Morgan mentally smiled. He looked at her again, and Morgan waited for him to speak.

“Does your brother have a name, Miss…?”

“Carla. Carla Greene.” She smiled widely, “My brother is Daniel Greene.” Jonathan nodded in confirmation that he remembered, but then he stopped, and Morgan barely caught the slight frown.

“If I remember correctly, Daniel Greene doesn’t have any immediate family.”

“Mom and Pop sent us away to our grandma’s when they found out Daniel had problems. Grandma, well, she…she died when we were teens.” Guilt, always the way to go. Not that she could tell what he was thinking. Hell, his eyes looked like they were trying to pick her brain apart.

Ha! Good luck. She hadn’t let anyone see in there in years.

“If you’ll allow me to ask, Miss Greene-“

“Oh please, call me Carla.” She laughed, waving it away.

“Carla,” Crane corrected, “could you tell me about your brother? So I can make any other changes to his file, you understand.”

“Of course.” Morgan didn’t skip a beat, “Daniel just turned thirty-four last June, he’s six feet tall, and he’s had schizophrenia since he was ten. He was sent here after the voices in his head told him to start a fire in a furniture store.” Morgan didn’t smile because she knew how smug it would look if she did. She wasn’t a newbie, she always did her research.

Crane looked at Morgan, and stopped trying to analyse her. Like something had clicked.

“And where were you, Carla, when Daniel had his episode?”

“At home, worrying about him.” Morgan answered, and frowned a genuine frown, “Why?”

“Because to be honest, Carla, I’m having trouble believing you.” Crane answered simply. Morgan looked shocked, and a little offended.

“Excuse me?”

“Daniel never had any siblings.” He continued, stepping forward with a scowl, “He told me himself that when he was young he felt completely alone, which is why he trusts the voices he hears so completely.”

“No.” Morgan stopped herself from stepping back, because she had to stand her ground despite how close he was getting, “I visit all the time, Daniel loves seeing me. Ever since grandma-“

“Ever since your grandmother was killed, you say. Carla, how did she die?”

“It was old age. Dr Crane, please, I don’t like talking about her. I miss her, we both miss her.” Morgan told him, continuing to act offended. She wasn’t comfortable with all the quizzing. He was onto her.

“Carla, I still don’t believe you.” Crane’s expression hardened and he stood over her again, “So why don’t you run along back to whoever you’re working for, and if you really are tellin’ the truth, then come back to the right place to visit your brother.” Morgan stared for a moment, glanced behind him to the door, and then took a step back. If she left now, she’d never get in again.

Morgan straightened and her uncomfortable grimace faded to a frown.

“I ain’t workin’ for anyone.” Her accent slipped through, whoops, “Our parents disowned us and our grandmother is gone and Daniel’s the only one I have left. I want to see him.”

“You don’t seem so nervous anymore Carla. It’s a miracle.”

“Move your ass, Dr Crane.” Morgan ordered. Neither one of them moved, glaring at each other.

“What are you really here for, Carla?” Crane asked bluntly.

Calm, Morgan. Whatever you do, stay calm.

“I keep telling you that I want to see Daniel!” She stood toe-to-toe with him to try and redirect her anger back into the ‘distressed sister’ routine, raising her voice slightly. Crane still didn’t look like he believed her, but he held his hands up slowly.

“Well alright then. But you still have to go to the visiting area to see him.” Crane went to turn her around, and without thinking Morgan slapped his arm away. Crane hissed and looked at his arm in confusion, and Morgan stopped. She hid her hands behind her back, feeling the warmth bubbling up.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on not now!

“What did you do?” Crane questioned sharply, and Morgan didn’t answer. She was too busy focusing on getting back under control, willing away the heat in her veins.

“Don’t touch me.” She said quickly, “I’m sorry but I just don’t do physical contact.” His eyes narrowed slightly before he straightened, expression returning to normal, and he gestured.

“Miss Greene, I won’t tell you again. You need to leave, before I am forced to call security.”

Morgan’s lip curled, glancing towards the door again.

She could make it, she could kick his ass and get out before anyone could sound the alarm.

Morgan looked at Crane.

She knew enough about him to know that she probably wouldn’t survive the consequences of beating him up.

“Fine.” Morgan snapped, and as she turned she added, “No one in this place has sympathy for a separated family.” She stomped back the way she had come, fists clenched tightly at her sides.

This fucking close.

Morgan sneered again.

Fine! If he couldn’t mind his own damn business, she’d have to go with the faster route.

Tonight, she’d come back to Arkham, and she’d sure as hell get what she wanted.

#sorceress #oc #this went through so many rewrites i'm not even kidding #my contribution to the codot-verse fandom #but i am such a fan and i wanted to dedicate something to it #jonathan crane #scarecrow #waiting4codot #high-functioning-fangirl473

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yellowind-writes · 4 years

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The Dark Wave: Prologue

Boku no Hero Academia Male!Reader-Insert x Various

Rated M for violence (blood, gore, general villainy) and language. Link to intro post + index.

“BASTARD!” The glint of a dagger reflecting neon lights. The scrape of shoes against wet concrete. The damp smell that lingers after a hard rain, an unpleasant, oily scent that’s particular to the city and it’s rotting streets. Senses are on high alert but it’s all a blur. Like the vague residue of a long, troublesome dream. Some flashes vivid and others a mesh of color with no apparent connection or meaning. “FUCKING BASTARD!”

A sharp bark of laughter, insincere and mocking echoes through the dark alley. “I’m surprised it...you’re a fool...two and two...” There are pieces missing. Important pieces. It’s as if you’re listening to a record skipping over beats in a song. “I...once...and I’ll take...again...”

“YOU LIED TO ME!” A surge of darkness, even darker than the surrounding shadows, rising like an inky curtain and rushing through the small space like a storm contained within a snow globe, swirling furiously when it’s shaken. “YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME!”

There’s a woman crying outside the door. Her grief is the only thing to listen to besides the heart monitor, beeping out a calm rhythm to remind you that you’re alive. You’d love to go and tell her to shut up if it wasn’t for the fact you’re cuffed to a hospital bed and woozy from whatever medicine the staff has been giving you (mostly to ensure you don’t try to escape rather than because you’re in any pain). Whoever she is, she’s been at it for a while.

Your head hurts, throbbing in time with your pulse.

“A necessary evil...I...you...so sad it’s turned...” A scream that could’ve been yours, could’ve been someone else’s. Raw and tormented, nigh beastly. Sirens.

A gaunt man enters the room holding a scuffed up shoe box in his large, bony hands. He looks like he needs bed rest more than you do with how exhausted and frail he appears. He says nothing as he shuffles across the linoleum and settles himself in a chair beside you. The corners of his mouth pulled into a frown and his shoulders tense.

“[Name], right?” It’s not a real question so you don’t dignify it with a response, just wait for his raspy voice to continue. There’s a glint of hope in his startlingly blue eyes--

“I. AM. HERE!” A crashing boom. There are windows breaking. A car alarm going off. You aren’t on your feet anymore. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

--but what he wishes to gain from this little visit is beyond you. “I’m Yagi. I’ve brought some things for you to look at if you wouldn’t mind.”

You would mind, actually, but the lid to the show box is already being removed with slow care. It’s almost as if he’s worried any sudden movements will startle you. Inside the box is a pile of photographs and some worn old action figures with chipped paint.

You can’t help but scoff when you recognize one of them as Endeavor. The model is from earlier on in his career and manufactured cheap but it’s impossible to mistake that flaming hair for anyone else. The painted eyebrows are furrowed to mirror his signature glower. What’s this stranger doing bringing you toys and mementos?

He hands you one of the pictures. It proves difficult to hold up for examination due to being restrained but there’s no helping it. As timid as this man is acting one doubts he’d be comfortable aiding their removal. The metal around your wrists is cold and the skin irritated.

It’s a glossy capture of two boys sitting side by side on a park bench. They’re eating slices of watermelon as big as their heads. One of them has a mop of dark curls and freckles dusting his round cheeks. He’s staring at the camera with a 1,000 watt smile while the boy with [color] eyes is oblivious, munching on his summer treat and focused on something out of frame. His [color] hair is messy and there’s dirt on his chin like he’d rolled around in the bushes moments prior. They’re wearing matching All Might t-shirts.

“I’m disappointed...so young...villainy is...” You’ve seen many different expressions on heroes and wannabe heroes alike. Shock, disgust, even fear. But pity has never been one of them. You like pity even less than contempt.

It means nothing to you. Nothing at all.

“What’s the point of this?” You ask, staring blankly at the photo and then turning a glare on this Yagi fellow. He let’s out a deep sigh, deflating even more into the baggy clothes that pool around him. You try to wrack your brain to understand the situation. Try to get why you’re still chilling out in the recovery bay of some nondescript hospital instead of wearing a muzzle in maximum security.

Villains that get caught are put away and never heard of again.

“[Name], how...how far back do you remember?” He leans forward in anticipation of the answer, fingers tented and elbows on his knees. Something tells you he already has an idea of how you’ll answer. It throws you for a second. This entire thing is like a lead up to something else. “The doctors said the head trauma from the fight might’ve caused...” He trails off and waves a hand, no need for further explanation to understand what he’s trying to get at.

“What’s it to you old man?” You find the vase of daisies on the nightstand suddenly very interesting. The sun coming through the window lights up the white and yellow petals in a warm, almost ethereal glow. That woman, the one no longer sobbing out in the hall, brought them into the room earlier. She had pretty, long [color] hair but you don’t know her. You’ve never seen her or anyone similar in your life though she acted like she knew you.

At the very least they’re a much needed decoration in this sparse room. Everything else is in shades of grey. It’s terribly clinical even for a medical setting. A prison cell would be just as inviting.

“His quirk is strong...we could...be a shame to...if it failed...a waste of...”

The heart monitor picks up the pace, green pixels jumping across the screen to draw higher, steeper mountains.

Shadowy figures closing in, faces obscured. The room is dark but there’s a blinding light in front of your eyes. You can’t move. There’s something stuck in your arm (get it out, get it out, get it OUT). You want to throw up.

Your head hurts.

There’s a long silence where Yagi simply waits for you to give him an actual answer. With what little mobility you have you flick the picture into his lap. You’d been aiming for the box now perched beside him on a tray but missed.

“I remember getting my skull cracked open by All Might, if that’s what you mean. You some sort of reporter digging for a scoop? Because I don’t think there’s a story here.” You’d have the spirit to be snarkier if you weren’t drowsy still. You feel like your body is a lead weight that’s about to sink into the hard mattress and down further still into the floor. The bandages wrapped around your head itch too.

Yagi seems disappointed by this. He faces the floor, his blond hair hiding most of his face. The strands look as dry as straw. Does he even use conditioner? Or maybe he just uses too much hairspray?

“[Name], I don’t mean your recent fight with your former ‘colleague’ and resulting arrest. I mean your past. The life you had before crime.” It strikes you as he’s saying this that his sunken eyes are the most alive part of him. They’re tremendously intense as they bear into your own.

“I didn’t have a life before crime. I grew up on the streets, learned to look after myself the hard way.” It’s not entirely a lie. Your nails scrape against the stiff cotton sheets as your fingers curl into fists. “I’m pretty sure you can figure out how it went from there.”

. . .

Yagi slides the door closed behind him with a huff. This case will be a tough one. Seeing as he’s the one who apprehended you he feels a certain amount of responsibility. Not to mention learning of the tragic circumstances regarding your status as a criminal and...

He’s been aware the world is an unfair place for quite a while but it still feels like ripping open a painful wound every time he learns it anew.

“I think,” It’s hard to say. Especially to the woman standing rigid and forlorn against the wall. Her eyes bloodshot and her nose red. To have waited for so many years for a phone call only to get the news that she did. That they found her son but he wouldn’t be coming home. “I suspect his formative memories have been wiped in order to brainwash him...he doesn’t even recognize himself as a child in pictures.” He says what both of them already suspected was so.

A second before the woman draws in a shuddering breath, “What are you, or they, going to do with him? With my boy?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

Hopefully.

“Hey kid...use...from now on...for me.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #male-reader #reader-insert #x reader #x you

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