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#it’s not ‘he’s been dead all along’ literally or figuratively. it’s ‘he’s unsafe and i don’t want him’
aroanthy · 1 month
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i love how fraught and complicated discourse around various utena characters ‘dying’ is when anthy is literally stabbed to death eternally by a million swords imbued with human hatred. and then utena gets stabbed to death by them also. like. ‘death’ is incredibly interesting in rgu because most of the time it’s this ambiguous figurative thing that has interesting implications re: ohtori as a closed-off world one can escape. we are all trapped in our coffins. mamiya is the only named character with a grave. nemuro memorial hall functions as one all the same. ruka is implied to have died in the hospital— was he dead all along? who was the boy we saw for these two episodes? is this dead boy the same boy, or is this just another coincidence from the shadow girls, cutting like a knife? it’s heavily implied that akio and anthy murder kanae by poisoning her, adding to the previous implication that they were poisoning mr ohtori too, but there are no perceptible consequences of this. kanae’s absence is not felt. she’s fed an apple slice. what happens to the bodies? we know what happened to the 100 boys, but what about everyone else? and so on and so forth. ‘death’ is a tricky thing in utena, i think it’s constantly functioning on figurative and literal levels in very different ways for very different purposes. dios died. dios was dying. dios didn’t die. he grew up. etc etc
#what am i trying to say here?#idk! think about all of the pieces you have#dying is complicated in ohtori in countless different ways#and i find it boring to see so much ‘this character is dead and that’s it’ stuff#when death is used farrrrrrr more figuratively than some ppl give credit for#and i think the movie too does wonderful things with death#and what ‘dying’ really means#being disbelieved. being forgotten. being rejected. haunting despite this#much more interesting to think about wrt commentary on abusive relationships than it is#to think about what?? oh me when my brother died but plot twist he’s alive and can walk on this road all cool. like?????#akio doesn’t have the power to make himself revenant#he THINKS he does and he absolutely has power when he’s alive and he imbues that power with such meaning that it does live on after him#but ANTHY. anthy is the one struggling with herself and her feelings and the impact of trauma and abuse (that power!!) in aou#he’s dead? he died? she brought him back through her memories? or she’s left him (metaphorical death) and he’s haunting her??#all such interesting interpretations#i haven’t mentioned touga bc i don’t have the energy today. if dead and just illusion of others memories then why active. why awful#like in aou akio is only Obviously scummy when he’s alive. his illusory self is based upon anthy’s love for him#if anime!touga is nothing more than nanami/whoever’s memories of him before he died……. why does he actively choose to suck again and again#like nanami wouldn’t do that. unless it was meant to be a subconscious thing like ooo he’s dead all along but that’s not what her arc is#it’s not ‘he’s been dead all along’ literally or figuratively. it’s ‘he’s unsafe and i don’t want him’#sigh. once again i am asking people to think about nanami and touga’s dynamic through touga’s eyes#it’s so interesting to me how people forget to consider his motivations or feelings on ANYTHING#like sure his motivations and feelings are scummy but they’re interesting!!!!! they intrigue me!!!!#compel me even#anyway ignore how i said i didn’t have the energy for this and then typed it all out anyway#dais.txt
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clotpolesonly · 1 year
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i figured out why Declan is my go-to blorbo, and it's because he's one of those characters where i can find common emotional/experiential ground between him and practically every other significant character and that just makes him fascinating to me and so so versatile
Declan and Gansey: repression, repression, repression!! so much anxiety rolled up into a tiny little ball and stubbornly ignored because feelings are unseemly and have no place here. they will feel things when they're dead, thank you very much. responsible beyond their years, on their own/taking care of themselves long before they should have been. tending to other people or the practicalities of the moment take precedence over themselves, at all times. unfortunately, Ronan is very important to them and they will go out of their way to protect him. also the insomnia and the autism vibes.
Declan and Adam: ruthlessly practical people. hard working and ambitious but for a reason, not for its own sake (Adam to get out of the trailer park, Declan to camouflage his other activities). they would rather die than admit to weakness or vulnerability in front of another human being. Do Not Let The Emotions In Or You Will Never Stop. feeling alienated and fundamentally from their peers, and distrustful of/disillusioned by the idea of help from authority figures -- if you have a problem, solve it yourself. both very very accustomed to lying, constantly and about everything, in order to disguise their home situation and deflect attention from anything that might cause people to ask questions. complicated relationships with their mothers, at least partially rooted in negligence and not stepping in wrt the situation with their fathers. and of course, there's a difference in scale and severity, but feeling unsafe due to the aforementioned fathers.
Declan and Blue: the particular brand of resentment that comes with being the only unspecial member of a special family. being the sensible one and stubbornly proud of how well they manage to get by without any of the ✨ super specialness ✨ that everybody else has. torn between wishing and wondering what it would be like to be special too and being desperately grateful that they're not. wishing that somebody would understand how fucking lonely it is knowing that you and your loved ones will never truly understand each other. being too proud to ever admit as much out loud.
Declan and Noah: this one's more nebulous, but the idea of being not fully real, not fully a person, and definitely the idea of not being seen. of being invisible and looked through. Noah's is because he's a literal ghost, obviously, and it's through no fault of his, but Declan has gone out of his way to cultivate that experience, to make himself as overlookable and forgettable as possible, for safety and security. but it doesn't feel good. the erosion of the sense of self as time goes on, worn down by the life they're living. and a shared understanding of being the victim of extreme violence (Noah's murder and Declan's attack by the Grey Man, at least).
Declan and Henry: the children of criminals. burdened with the knowledge of a world -- two worlds tbh, the criminal and the magical -- that they can't speak about to anyone else. socially isolated and starved for emotional connection. uncomfortably comfortable with the violence that has permeated their lives and always acting under the assumption that it can and will find them again.
Declan and the Gray Man: business is as business does and it's not personal. ✨ depression ✨ and going through the motions because this is just their life and they don't have the emotional or mental capacity right now to think of how their life might be changed. making themselves as dull as possible and then not being able to find their way out of the hole they've dug themselves, at least not until someone comes along to remind them of what it feels like to feel things.
Declan and Jordan: repression of self and lack of identity. not being allowed the space to be their own person, always forced to cram themselves into a tiny box for the sake of others. bursting at the seams with dreams that they're not allowed to chase and feelings they're not allowed to express. feeling truly seen for the first time when they meet each other.
Declan and Hennessy: being preceded by the reputation of a parent they resent. living in Niall and JH's shadows, always compared to them, even when they suspect that they may actually be better than their parents at what they do. the struggle not to let that bitterness swallow them whole before they can grow into their own reputations and make names for themselves.
Declan and Farooq-Lane: young professions who have worked very hard, thank you very much, to be as competent as they are. logical thinkers with a brewing storm of emotion that they try not to let interfere with their logical thinking because they know it makes them impulsive and they don't like that loss of control. loss of control is the enemy. they are the only grown-ups in the room and they would rather die than acknowledge that they are actually scared kids in way over their heads. both with complicated feelings about dreamers and deep-seated issues related to their dreamer brothers. also they have very similar taste in women.
honestly, the only people that Declan doesn't have common ground with is his brothers, and that's what makes his relationships with them so interesting and so fraught. there's something to be explored between Declan and Ronan wrt their suicidal ideation (though they have very different flavors of it) and perhaps with them both feeling insecure compared to each other, but so much of their conflict is about just how different their experiences and perceptions and personalities are.
and Declan being unable to relate to Matthew on a personal, empathetic level is probably part of why he finds it so hard to really think of Matthew as a fully independent PERSON in his own right. though, if Declan's experiences with the bag of Niall's memories had gone a little differently, there could have been a connection over the experience of being denied full personhood by a well-meaning but ultimately overbearing and neglectful guardian. 🤔
anyway, these have been my musings on Declan and why he continues to fascinate me. he has the range, darling.
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mcmactictac · 3 years
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is wolfstar canon
Hello and welcome back to another episode of I analyze your favourite ships and let you know if they’d be canon if a coward wasn’t writing them.
I have read all the Harry Potter books and watched all the movies, I have not read All the Young Dudes but I have consumed lots of mauraders content so I’m really hoping all of these points I’m making are canon.
Let’s start with Remus Lupin. That’s a queercoded bitch if I’ve ever seen one. Now I’m always a sucker for queer coding within magical worlds, as there’s a lot of really subtle things to do with it. Now with Remus being a werewolf, there’s a lot to examine there. When examining queer coding we will ignore the shitty implication that it’s a disease that can be given to you by others because that’s dumb and Rowling sucks. We do not stand for homophobia in this household so I want to make extra clear I don’t want to imply any of that.
That being said, being a werewolf is a thing Remus is ashamed of and feels the need to hide. He hides it from everyone around him because he doesn’t want them to look at him differently. You also have to keep in mind the time period this would be set, being gay can be incredibly unsafe and life altering in a negative way. So he hides it to protect himself, despite the fact he is a child struggling with all this internal self loathing. The constant narrative of being a monster that just pushes you further and further into hiding because you have no idea what would happen if they found out. And eventually he finds close friends who figure it out and they support him, they want to help so he feels less alone. And yes he has this outlet now but it’s still a tightly guarded secret. Something he’s only open with to the people he trusts. His lycanthropy is a clear parallel to being gay and although I hate the implication that it’s a “disease” like. Metaphorically most of the things you look for in queer coding are right there.
You also have to keep in mind that Remus was literally never in a relationship and showed no interest in anyone until like the end with Tonks. And it’s pretty clear to me that Rowling threw that in so people would stop saying he was gay. I like Remus and Tonks and the dynamic they have but like. They seem more like friends, the age gap is weird, there’s no build up, it doesn’t make sense for Remus’s character and it’s just like. Not great? Tonks and Remus are great friends but I don’t really see them together romantically.
I’m going with the fact that Remus is just straight up gay. Tonks seems like a cover, and if I was a person who wasn’t a coward writing this, Remus and Tonks are both aware neither of them are straight and are covering for each other. It’s giving me very “let’s get married so you don’t get drafted to the front lines even though we arent in love” like people did during like the Vietnam war. They get along really well but Remus has no romantic chemistry with any woman ever. That is not a straight man.
Sirius Black. This is another fun one. Since the start of his time at Hogwarts he is marked as “different” from the rest of his family because he isn’t a slytherin. We need to keep in mind the Black family is very wealthy, has a high value on their reputation, and are basically just racist, homophobic and classist people. Difference is not accepted, and Sirius already starts out by breaking that mould. Now l honestly don’t remember how much of his interactions with Marlene are canon so I don’t know if I can argue that but like. Yes I am thinking about it, much like JJ, Sirius overcompensates with being a huge flirt with everyone despite having no real feelings attached to any of them. Throughout growing up he continues to break away from his family, and break away from their problematic views. Being raised in an environment like that instills a sense of fear around you. So even if Sirius knew when he was younger, it’s likely he denied it or never said anything because of fear. By the time he leaves he’s pretty much kicked out of the family. Through his school we can also see how supportive of Remus he is, trying to help him and make him feel as comfortable as possible. Giving him support and love he was never given.
If a coward was not writing this Sirius black should not be straight. I’m not certain if he would be bi or gay, but he for sure likes men. It would fit well and be interesting for his character and story.
So how do they work together? Objectively, really well. I’m going to look at this through a canonical lense, so trying to keep what I can of the story but adding these sexuality headcanons in mind.
Remus and Sirius were ABSOLUTELY together in school. I don’t think they were public about it in the slightest. But this is another gay person you’re close with, you care for who fiercely cares for you despite your family or your “disease”. Remus was totally out first, but just to the Mauraders. Sirius never really comes out. He probably tells James first, mentions it quietly one night after thinking about his family. He knows James will be ok with it because he was always ok with Remus. And James is supportive and never says anything, never treats Sirius any different. That’s still the man who is basically his brother. But he sees how Sirius looks at Remus the same way he looks at Lily. He knows, even if they never tell him. But if anyone were to know, it would be him.
They have the chemistry, the stories line up, they’re good friends and it would make sense. Because of the time period it’s quiet and guarded, a relationship kept from prying eyes. They might love each other but they don’t want anyone to know about their relationship because neither of them are really comfortable or ready being out.
Now after school there’s probably a bit of a splitting apart, knowing they can’t maintain what they had forever. The future isn’t made for them and they know that. And then James is dead, and Peter is killed and Sirius is in prison and Remus is forced to pull himself together and do the best he can to move on without them. Now if we were in a timeline where Sirius didn’t go after Peter, and him and Remus could potentially take Harry? I don’t know. They sure as hell wouldn’t let the Dursley’s take him, but dumbledore also isn’t going to just let them live in peace. They would have to go totally off grid, making sure Dumbledore never took him. The priority here would be keeping Harry safe, not on their own relationship.
Now after POA is where things get messy. Because you essentially have two years here before Sirius dies. Even though Remus knows he’s innocent he went 13 years thinking he wasn’t. That trust isn’t going to magically return overnight, he’s going to have to unlearn all of the wrong things he figured out over the past decade. And this Sirius is different. This Sirius doesn’t need a relationship, he needs support, love and someone to help him. And Remus is there for that. They both still care for each other but they aren’t at a point where they work anymore. They just appreciate the comfort that the other provides. Remus takes care of Sirius the way Sirius took care of him so many years ago. It isn’t about a relationship, it’s about love. That love for each other is still strong, and it’s still there. Nothing is going to change that, they’ll always be a part of each other.
So no I don’t think they got “back together” before Sirius died. Or even if Sirius survived, before Remus died. If by some miracle they both survived the war down the road? Maybe. They’d still have that tight bond with each other and over time and as they heal it might develop again. But no I think they only really “dated” in high school. But that love for each other never really went away. It’s still a huge part of each of them, and even if they aren’t in a relationship that doesn’t mean they aren’t in love.
So in summary:
-Remus is gay. His story is queercoded but in a homophobic way.
-Sirius likes men. It further distances him from his family and is something he has a lot of internal problems with
-they’re secretly together in high school. James probably knows but he never pushes
-post POA they don’t get “back together” but they are still fiercely attached and care about the other deeply. The lack of a relationship is not an indication of no love. They don’t really care about labelling it as much they’re just Remus and Sirius and they just. Need each other
-if allowed to survive till the end they may get back together
So I would say yes, Wolfstar is canon. We have nothing to prove none of this didn’t happen. They could have been together in high school and Harry would never know. And even if the relationship fizzles out, that love is always still there and that never goes away.
If you’re still here this is part of a series I’m doing, and I’m going to be doing this with a bunch of other stuff! It’s all going to be under #deathoftheauthorbirthofthemcmac so if you like this one I’ve got a jjpope one up and more to come!
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weirdsideblog · 3 years
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Hello! How would it play out (in the same timeline as your three part story) if Tony had to eat Peter again, but this time, had to act like it was dangerous in order to protect him?
Oh what an angsty idea!  Thank you for this!  The greatest struggle of a vore writer is figuring out “when the heck would they even need to do that?” but I think I have a decent explanation, hopefully this is what you meant.
Naturally this is still safe vore, but as the ask says, there’s a lot of talk about unsafe vore, as well as an evil character threatening it, so if you’re very squeamish about that, take care.  As always, not St*rker
Tony’s head ached. That was the first thing he registered. The second thing was that he was lying on a cold concrete floor, surrounded by concrete walls and a concrete ceiling, a cell of some kind. The third was that he was alone.
He couldn’t remember what had happened or how he’d gotten here, but he knew he’d been with Peter. At least he was fairly sure. Now Peter was nowhere to be seen. Tony flexed his stomach, just to check if he’d tucked him away without remembering it, but there was no Peter there either.
That could mean a number of things, and he told himself not to panic yet.  It was possible that his memory was wrong and Peter hadn’t actually been with him at all.  Or he could have escaped and might be planning a rescue. There was a good possibility that whoever had kidnapped them didn’t want them scheming together about how to escape, and was simply holding them separately, too.
Or Peter could be dead, but Tony instructed himself strictly not to go there.
He looked up quickly when the door opened, and his heart lurched. Two men, armed with guns, flanking a taller man with graying blond hair came into the room.  He recognized them.  It would be hard not to, after the narrow escape he and Peter had had before.
The blond man held a jar, with a tiny figure huddled inside.   They were still all the way across the room, but there was only one person it could be.
“Hello Stark,” said the man with the jar, and he came close, close enough for Tony to see Peter, who had scrambled up and pressed against the glass like he could force his way through. “I believe I have something of yours.”
He had to be careful now. Show too much attachment, and they would surely use Peter against him even more. Show too little, and they might decide he was useless to their cause and get rid of him. Tony said nothing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Peter’s scared face.
“Don’t worry, I’ve seen the boy with you before. I know you work together.”
“We do,” Tony agreed. They could have that for free; it was no great secret anyway.
“I’m sure you remember when you escaped from us last month?”
Tony certainly did. They’d used a shrink ray on Peter then, too, and Tony had been so desperate not to allow him to be captured like that that he’d swallowed the kid whole. And now he had been captured like that anyway, just as Tony had feared.
“You’re lucky you got off so easily,” he said, forcing himself to look up from Peter. “People who try to kidnap me have a history of getting much worse.”
“I’m sure.” The blond man laughed. “But surely you won’t blow us up when I have this?” He gave the jar in his hand a little shake, and Peter lost his footing and stumbled.
“Ideally, no.” Tony watched Peter again, so tiny and vulnerable, and out of his reach. The kid had made it clear he had not enjoyed being eaten, despite knowing he was safe, but Tony wondered if he might want to be hidden now. Tony himself certainly did. “What’s the idea with having him so small,” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“I thought this little intern could serve as a visual aid,” said the man. “You see, there you are. Tony Stark, Iron Man, top of the world, and people like me—we look like this to you, don’t we?”
Tony knew to let him have his monologue, watching Peter in the jar he held up, trying to think.
“You eat up dreams, you eat up lives, and they’re nothing to you. Why should they be, when you’re the man at the top? One might say you’re top of the food chain.”
Under different circumstances, Tony would definitely have laughed at that choice of imagery, but when the person talking about eating people was a possibly-unhinged stranger holding a tiny Peter, dread settled into his heart.
“People like me, we’re just like him to you, aren’t we?” The man gave the jar another little shake. “Bite size.”
Tony stopped breathing.
“I’d certainly love to take the illustration one step further.”
He started to unscrew the jar, and Peter scrambled against the side.
“No!” Tony started forward—the only thing keeping him in place before had been he unspoken threat of harm to Peter if he moved, but now—
“Come any closer and I drop him.”
There it was. Tony froze.
“As I was saying...” the man tipped the opening of the jar over his hand, and Peter only just managed to stay inside.
“I get your point.” Tony clenched his hands at his sides to keep them from shaking. “No visual aid needed.”
“Just to be sure.” The man tried to get Peter out of the jar again.
“Stop!”
“Hmm.” Mercifully, the jar was turned upright again and the lid screwed back on. Peter curled up at the bottom, arms wrapped around his head like he could shield himself. “I’d hate for such a perfect snack to go to waste. Maybe you could help me prove my point instead.”
“I-“
“Catch.”
Tony reacted just in time to catch the jar and its tiny occupant, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He withdrew against the wall, holding the glass with shaking hands.
“It’s me or you, Stark.”
Did he mean... Tony couldn’t believe their good fortune, but he made himself look horrified anyway.
“You would be more fitting, but I’d be happy to assist if for some reason you’re not willing.”
“What the hell do you think I am,” he snarled, practically vibrating with the need to do exactly what was asked of him.
“It’s nothing you haven’t done before. Just more literal this time.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll take him back, then.”
“No!” Tony clutched the jar to his chest, flinching when one of the other men pointed a gun at his head.
“I don’t think I made myself clear,” said the blond man. “You have three options. Eat the boy, give him to me, or die, and then I can eat him anyway.”
Tony was still. He had never wanted to swallow anyone more than he did right now, but he had a role to play. He was conflicted, after all, he was scared, there was no good option (ha!) and he needed to sell this more than he’d ever sold anything in his life, and he’d sold a lot of things. He looked at Peter in the jar and his scared face, and could only hope the kid was just playing along, too.
“Well?”
“He’s just a kid. Whatever you have against me, he’s got nothing to do with it.”
“That doesn’t sound like one of the choices I gave you.”
Tony made a great show of swallowing hard. “I can’t...”
“Then I’ll do it,” said the blond man, almost cheerfully, and now Tony really did feel sick. “Say your goodbyes.” He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll be one to mourn him for long.”
Peter’s mouth moved, saying what Tony guessed to be “Mr. Stark?”
“Wait.” He wrapped his hands around the jar as fully as possible. “Wait, I- he stays with me.”
“I’m sure you’ll be a very great comfort while you’re killing him.”
Tony said nothing. He wanted to get Peter out of the jar and gulp him down immediately, safe from anyone who wanted to hurt him, but the version of himself he was playing at the moment wouldn’t do that. He did tip Peter carefully out of the jar (he went readily) and hold him securely in his hands instead.
“You’re going to swallow him alive,” said the man. “More fun that way. If you try to put him out of his misery first, my man will shoot.”
If this was different...Tony tried not to think about that. Peter would be safe, so there was no need to think about what he’d do if he wasn’t.
“Don’t make me do this.” Please, please, hurry up and ‘make’ me do this.
“If you waste another ten seconds, he’ll be mine.”
“Kid…”
Peter was shaking in his hands. Surely he knew. He’d done this before, he had to know. Tony prayed his terrified expression was just him playing his own role. Playing it very well, too.
“Ten,” said the man, starting to count down.
“Mr. Stark?”
What would he say? What would he ever say, if this was real? Peter was staring at him, holding on tightly to his finger, his little chest heaving. (Please be acting, please be acting, please be acting.) Then he burst into tears. Tony’s heart sank.
...
Tony was a good actor. At least Peter hoped he was. Otherwise, he was so screwed.
It wasn’t hard to play along. Peter felt too small and helpless anyway, and he’d just had a complete stranger threaten to eat him multiple times. Unless there was something he didn’t know, he was about to be safe, but he was also about to be eaten anyway, and a little reassurance that the two weren’t mutually exclusive would be nice.
Experience told him he’d be fine. (Experience telling him he’d survive getting eaten, who’d have imagined it?) He’d done this before, after all, and been completely fine. He would have liked to hear it from Tony’s mouth himself, but surely, surely he’d be fine.
“Ten.” The blond man started counting down to when he’d take Peter away and then he wouldn’t be fine, and Tony just looked at him.
“Mr. Stark?”
Peter didn’t know what he wanted, besides Tony in general. He certainly didn’t want to be eaten by him, safe or not, but he definitely didn’t want the other man to get him, and he just—just—just started to cry, apparently. Great.
Tony smoothed his hair with the lightest fingertip, and that was good, that was nice, and then the blond man reached the end of his countdown and Peter shrieked as the world swooped and he was shut quickly inside Tony’s mouth.
That was gross. He’d forgotten how gross it was. It was even grosser when Tony’s tongue (dear God, he’d forgotten about that, too) moved under him, nudging gently at his chest, and maybe it was supposed to calm him down, but he just tried to hold it off. Tony thankfully got the hint and stopped.
Outside, they were demanding Tony swallow him, or they would shoot. His breath whooshed in the back of his throat, sometimes catching like he was going to cry, and he really was great at this acting stuff. Hopefully. Ninety-five percent certain. Maybe ninety.
Peter guessed he’d find out soon enough. At any rate, it was probably polite to make sure he went down (he shuddered) as easily as possible. He uncurled himself and stretched out, with his legs pointing toward Tony’s throat, and waited with his heart pounding fit to burst.
It happened all in a flash. He was squeezed against the roof of Tony’s mouth, a muscular ripple rolled over him, and his heart dropped into his toes. He twitched once, starting to fight, but he forced himself still again. It was Tony, and he was eighty-five percent sure that meant it was okay. And struggling wouldn’t save him anyway.
Everything around him lurched when Tony coughed, probably only slightly, but it was a massive sound to Peter. Before he had time to wonder if he’d hurt him somehow, an especially tight ring of muscle rolled over him and he tumbled into Tony’s stomach.
He’d forgotten just how gross this was, too, how slimy. He scrambled, completely disoriented in the pitch darkness and the slippery slime and the soft, yielding walls, fighting panic. (It was Tony, it was Tony, he was supposed to be safe here. Hopefully.)
“No!” Tony cried out, and Peter was thrown to the side with a sickening squelch. “No, you can’t!”
“Mr. Stark!”
He was struggling with someone, pleading with them, what were they doing to him? Peter was helpless.
Whatever was going on ended quickly, for better or for worse, and Peter tried to get his bearings again. Tony was coughing like he was going to throw up, but Peter stayed put. He hoped that was by design. Still, it sounded pretty painful, and he ventured to touch the wall of the stomach and just… pet it lightly. He couldn’t explain it, but it seemed like the thing to do.
“Are you okay?” he asked as soon as it was done.
Tony didn’t answer, probably still being watched.
“Mr. Stark? Cough once if you’re okay.”
Tony coughed, very deliberately, and Peter breathed again.
“I’m like, mostly sure, but I’m okay, too, right?”
Tony coughed again.
“Okay. That’s- that’s good.” Peter leaned against him. “I thought so, but I wanted to make sure, cause, you know.” 
He shivered a little. If this was different... well, it wasn’t.  Peter tried to put the thought out of his mind. He was safe. Tony wasn’t going to kill him, or have to know that was going on and be powerless to stop it, and-- Peter squished himself against the wall. It was Tony, and he was keeping him safe.
It felt strangely familiar. Tony’s heartbeat, his breathing, the warm softness that almost seemed to cradle him, slimy and disgusting as it was. Peter found himself relaxing slowly. It was scary to be this small, and it was nice to be held by someone he could trust, even in such a weird way.
Just like the first time he’d been here, it was almost nice, once he got over the fact that he’d been eaten alive. Everything around him was Tony, and in addition to being just… really weirdly awesome, it was a very safe feeling, being kept securely inside his mentor like this. He was also very much trapped here until Tony chose to release him, but that added to the feeling of safety too.
He smiled. No way was blond guy getting him now.
Peter knew. Thank God, he knew he was safe.
Tony curled up on his side, difficult now that they had tied his arms behind his back, but he was harder to observe this way. They were probably going to leave him alone for a while now, to think on his guilt and…well. Best not to think about what this could be.
Peter snuggled up to him, quite safe, and so trusting, too. Tony curled around him, even though he was already around him anyway, and held perfectly still to feel his every tiny movement. After some time, Peter went very still and relaxed, and Tony suspected with no small amount of awe that he might be asleep.
He made a point of breathing more slowly so as not to disturb him. All the while, his mind raced with half-formed plans of how they might escape again.
Eventually, Peter stirred, and squirmed a bit. “Mr. Stark?”
“Right here,” he murmured, too quietly for anyone who might be spying on them to hear.
“Just making sure.”
They both jumped when War Machine crashed through the ceiling.
108 notes · View notes
kittybellestark · 4 years
Text
Back To The Beginning
This one shot literally took so long to write but I’m glad it’s finally finished. I didn’t think I’d ever get it done i stg. Basically Peter starts to remember his parents. 
TW: Panic Attack, Blood, speaking about experimentation/torture.
“Tony, I need your help!!”
It’s 11:00pm on a non-patrol night. Peter is supposed to be in his apartment, it’s not the weekend so he definitely isn’t supposed to be here at night. Tony felt the anxiety build inside of him. hearing Peter ask for help was nearly unheard of, and for him to make an appearance at the lab this late at night was only something he did when injured too badly. This was unusual.
Looking up at Peter, Tony see’s he looks relatively not injured. Though Peter’s look is a cause for concern. He’s wearing pajamas and his face is red. Peter’s still wearing slippers and it’s obvious that he doesn’t have a wallet on him, only his phone. Which means Peter walked to the tower from Queens -as his webshooters are not on his wrists- but he most likely ran, judging by his red face and the beads of sweat on his forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
Tony was quick to move, getting Peter to sit down and drink water. The boys eyes were wide and frightened.
“Okay you’re going to think I’m insane because I think I’m insane but I promise this is real and I need help. Something is suspicious about May. And me. And my parents. Something is wrong Tony. I don’t think I’m unsafe but there’s something wrong here.”
“Start from the beginning kiddo. Keep your breathing easy. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”
Peter nodded. He looked ready to cry. He was obviously exhausted and Tony was trying to keep his cool from Peter bringing up May and how he’s suspicious of her. Peter was his kid and Tony would do anything to keep him safe.
“Right, yeah. So remember our talk last week, the one where I sorta told you I perceive you in a father figure way and then you saying you kinda think of me as a son? Well I talked to May about it because I felt guilty. Like I had a dad and an uncle who raised me and it just feels selfish and I just needed extra reassurance okay. And May was upset. And she said that it wasn’t fair to my father especially considering he died recently.” Peter paused. “My dad died when I was 6, Ben died just over a year ago and I know she didn’t get them confused.”
Tony went to talk, to reassure Peter or to comfort him but Peter kept going.
“I thought she was just confused. But then I found some pictures of when my parents were alive. And May and Ben were never there. I can find pictures of places they said I was with them and only them, but then the pictures are with my parents. So I did had Ned hack into my grandparents old medical files. Richard and Mary were both only children. Ben is not related to Richard. There’s no adoption forms or anything. So technically May and Ben aren’t my aunt and uncle right?”
“Pete-“
“No Tony, listen. There’s more. May and Ben always pushed for me to work at Oscorp right? That’s where my parents worked so it makes sense. But May had pushed it more since the spider bite which doesn’t make sense, even pushing it even though you’re a Stark and obviously I’m going to work at SI when I’m older. It doesn’t make sense. But I was thinking it’s a legacy thing. But no.
“It doesn’t make sense that I don’t remember anything before my parents died. Doctor’s said it was the trauma of my parents dying. But I was six I couldn’t have really understood that. Unless something also happened to me, which brings me to my next big woah moment. MJ has been having me meditate recently because it’s good for my mental health and whatnot. And I remember being on an airplane with my parents. There’s no evidence that I was ever on an airplane, except before I was six years old. But there’s a ticket under my name for the same day my parents died. And if I go into the airport security cameras on that day I am there. You can see me boarding the plane. So how could I live through a plane crash and not my parents. That doesn’t make sense, especially seeing as my whole life I was told I was staying with May and Ben when my parents died.
“Tony, none of this adds up. And let’s just circle back to the spider bite. That should have killed me. It would have killed any other human. To have lived through the bite I would have had to had been altered or experimented on to work genetically with the spiders they were using. That’s the only way I wouldn’t have died. Which means Oscorp knows about me being Spider-Man, which makes sense because they’ve approached me multiple times since gaining my powers to intern there, even before I met you.
“Something is really wrong, Tony. And I need help.”
Tony agreed to help Peter. Of course he did. The duo researches Mary and Richard Parker and then they research May and Ben Parker. May and Ben never existed before they took custody of Peter. Everything Peter said was backed up. There was evidence for everything.
Peter’s life no longer made sense and Tony feared for his sons safety.
“I’m not comfortable with you going home, kid. None of this adds up.”
Peter leaned forward resting against the work table nodding along to what Tony said. He wasn’t very comfortable either. How could he go home knowing his whole life has been a lie.
“I’ll stay tonight, but I have to go back. We need more proof. Maybe we can get a DNA sample from May.”
Huffing in frustration, Tony pinches the bridge of his nose feeling at a loss.
“When you go back home I’m going to give you some stuff to set up around your room. It’ll activate every time May walks in there, record what she’s doing and saying. It’ll alert me if she does anything to you. I’ll also talk to my lawyers.”
The next day Tony unwillingly brought Peter back home. With a bag full of bugs and cameras, all directly linked to FRIDAY who will tell Tony as soon as anything remotely suspicious were to happen. Peter was well aware of exactly where to put each microphone and camera and that they would only be activated with May’s presence. 
Leaving Peter alone with May, felt impossible. Tony’s chest felt tight with anxiety, worried that this would be a bad idea, that his kid would wind up hurt in the end. Peter being left to May when the facts didn’t add up. Everything was a little too off yet so well put together with their small family that it seemed like a gust of wind could bring it all toppling to the ground. 
From there is took a few hours before May got back to her apartment, then a little while later before she started talking about Peter’s future with Oscorp. At the end of the week Peter finally told Tony that he had a DNA sample from May. 
As Peter entered the lab, toothbrush in hand, Tony had everything set up, FRIDAY ready to go through every person who has ever given DNA ever to find out who May is.
“What if I was kidnapped as a child?” 
“Then the two of us figure it out. We do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Tony wraps his arms around Peter, letting the teen rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. 
“Boss, I found a match, would you two like to hear?” FRIDAY finally said after an agonizing fifteen minutes.
Tony looked towards Peter, waiting for confirmation before answering. Peter stared at Tony, mouth open clearly hesitating about what to do. After a beat Peter finally nodded, and Tony gave FRIDAY the go-ahead. 
“May Parker has a 100% DNA match to Mary Parker. I do apologize Peter, but it seems May is actually your mother.” 
Everything went silent at that for Peter. His ears were ringing and the world went all fuzzy. He blinked back tears before taking a deep breath and nodding. Tony held both of Peter’s shoulders, keeping him grounded. 
“Oh god, oh man, she lied to me. She lied a lot. She can’t be- she can’t. Tony, Tony, my whole life. She faked her death. And then got custody as me, and told me she’s my aunt. Oh no, that means Ben was probably- that I watched, Tony she said my Dad died recently, Tony I watched him get murdered. They lied to me. They lied.”
Tony pulled Peter into his arms, bringing the two of them to the ground. Peter ended up in Tony’s lap, head in the crook of his mentors shoulders. Tony started to rock the two of them, hoping to bring the sobbing boy some comfort.
~~~~~~
A week after finding out May was technically his biological mother, the nightmares set in for Peter. Well, more like repressed memories coming to him when he sleeps, but nightmares nonetheless. It was already a battle to get Tony to agree to let Peter go home, with promises that he would soon talk to May. Going to Tony about this now would only lead to Peter never going home. 
Sleeping was hard though. Memories of being moved from facility to facility with Mary and Richard strapping him down and taking needles to his skin, injecting him with things that burned, that were so hot but also so cold. Watching Richard take a scalpel to his body, seeing Mary break his bones. Having his parents shock him until he tasted blood.
It wasn’t right. Peter knew it wasn’t right. He stops other parents from doing this to their kids. And now he’s here. He know’s he went through it, the abuse. But that was Mary and Richard. Not May and Ben. They may be the same, but the abuse, it hasn’t been since they started lying to him. Not since they pretended that Peter wasn’t their son. They’ve not hurt him like that since they faked their own death.
And yet Oscorp has been up his ass since Spider-Man. Doubled down since May found out. He’s been followed by people who may have put it together. Who may know his actual identity. 
Peter know’s he should go to Tony. He know’s he should talk to May. Peter is acutely aware that he is an abused child. That his parents abused him. experimented on him. He shouldn’t have lived through the spider bite, not without previous experimentation. He’d be dead if it wasn’t for Mary and Richard or May and Ben, whoever they were. They saved his life with what they did.  
But what if this was Ned’s life? Or MJ’s? OR Betty’s? Or even Flash? If this was literally anyone else’s life Peter wouldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let them think that everything was okay in their life. He would talk them out of it. He would support them and help them find other options. But this is his life. And now it’s different. And it shouldn’t be. Spider-Man stops this from happening to other children. Stops the abuse, helps get them into good homes. Yet Peter Parker isn’t doing anything for himself because as far as he’s aware it’s in the past. 
Now Peter is sitting inside a restaurant with May. They’re supposed to be having dinner together. But he needs to know. He has questions and he wants the answers. His phone is on his lap recording, and he that Tony has Happy tailing him, which means he’s right outside if anything happens. 
“So, uh, you know that MJ and I have been meditating together right? She says it’s good for people’s mental health and can help then deal with some personal stuff.” Peter starts saying once the food has arrived. May nods. “Well, I think it’s working. Which is great but I’m remembering some weird things from when Mary and Richard were alive.”
May raised her eyebrow, taking a think before she answers, the fork she was hold with chicken on the end twirling in the air. 
“Are you sure about that Pete? I mean not to say I don’t believe you but the doctors have said it’s extremely unlikely that you’ll ever regain your memories from when your parents were alive. Are you sure you’re actually remember and not just creating these stories in your head about them again?”
“Wait what? Creating stories- again? May, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, honey. Please don’t tell me you repressed this. When you were you younger you created this whole story about how Mary and Richard would hurt you and take your blood and it was horrible. You worked yourself up into such a frenzy about it that Ben and I had to put you in a hospital to help you. You were in the hospital for months. Do you not remember that?” Peter shook his head. “Honey, if what you remember of your parents is them experimenting on you or whatever convoluted thing you made up then we need to get you some more help.”
Peter was confused. He didn’t remember May and Ben shipping him away. There’s no memory of going to a hospital or saying that his parents hurt him. Peter was sure that never happened. It couldn’t have. And for May to know what Peter was going to his what his memories were. That’s wrong. She knows. She knows.
“I ran a DNA test. I know you’re actually Mary.”
May or Mary whoever she is dropped her fork, her face showing her surprise. 
“Peter, baby, I don’t know where you got that idea from but I’m not Mary, I’m not your mother. I don’t know how you made up this story now but you’re wrong. Get up Peter. We’re going to go get you some help.”
Heartbreaking, Peter felt his family shatter. For the first time in Peter’s life he looked at May and saw a stranger. To tell him he’s making this all up, that he needs help. She’s never done this before. May- Mary- May, she’d never make him feel like he was a liar. Peter had always felt validated by her. May didn’t even do this when Peter went to her about Skip. 
May got up from the table grabbing Peter by his arm and trying to pull him up with her. Peter continued to stay seated, refusing to go with her. Wanted to finish this conversation before this family ended. 
“Sit the fuck down, Mary. I’m not done yet.” Peter heard himself spit out, voice feeling detached. 
Mary sat down across from her son, a scowl set on her face. Food forgotten, her foot tapping. 
“I was on that plane too. I remember being there. There was never a May and Ben Parker before then. Don’t play dumb with me either, Mom, I go to the best school in New York that works in conjunction with the best colleges in the country. I have an internship with a certified genius and have helped develop products at SI, and regularly work with the top three smartest people in the world, and they don’t dumb things down so I can understand. I can keep up with them and I make them see things they didn’t before. I’ve corrected Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Don’t tell me I’m crazy.”
The two stayed silent staring at each other. The server came around to check in and they only nodded. After ten minutes Mary finally broke the silence. 
“What do you want to know?” 
“Why did you fake your death, create identities that are literally related to me, but not fake my death? You told me you were dead for years. Why?” 
“It was the only way to protect you without ruining your life. I did what I had to do.” Mary’s voice was cold in a way that Peter hasn’t heard since he was young, and strapped to a table.
“How could you ever protect me when you were to the one to hurt me. You and Richard. You strapped me to a table, poked me with needles, injected me with experimental drugs, broke my bones and cut me open and shocked me when I didn’t do what you wanted me too. I was a child and you tortured me.”
“You think I wanted to? You’re my baby. I didn’t want to do those things, but I had too.”
“Why?”
“Peter, we’re done, we’re going.”
“Not until you answer me.”
“We’re leaving.”
“Answer me, Mary.”
“Oscorp. Norman Osborn. That’s why.”
Peter nodded. It was what he was expecting. Of course he was. He just wanted it to be different. He wanted Mary to say anything else. But it was her job. She got paid to do those things to him. Mary could have said no, could have quit her job. Richard too. They could have done something. Anything. 
It was a choice. They chose their jobs over him. They valued Peter as a lab rat, and their job as their child. Peter wasn’t important. Not to Mary, not to Richard. Not in the way he should have been.
“Alright.” Peter said. “I can’t go home with you. I can’t trust you anymore. I’m sorry Mary, but this just isn’t working with us anymore. Someone will be in contact.”
They made eye contact again. And Peter finally stood up. He tapped a button on the watch he was given from Tony, only tapped it once, to let Happy know he needs a ride, to let Tony know he needs him. His phone went into his pocket.
Just as his back turned to Mary, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was the sound of gun being cocked behind him. The people in the restaurant as gasped and screamed, chairs moving and people trying to shuffle away. Peter turned back around seeing May holding a gun, aiming it right at him.
“You’re not going to Tony. Tony motherfucking Stark doesn’t get to lay claim to you. You are mine Peter. You are my child, you are my responsibility, you are mine and you are coming home with me. Now put your hands up baby, I can’t have you calling him. We need to go. You need help. We have to go see the doctor.”
She was shaking, tears running down her face. All Peter could see was his aunt. He could only see May. He couldn’t see Mary and that made it hurt more. He raised his hands, putting them behind his head. He found the his watch easily, clicking the buttons in rapid succession, as many times necessary to get help as soon as possible.
“May, May, please. You can’t- please. You hurt me. Over and over again. It was your choice. Please don’t hurt me anymore. Put the gun down, please. You know I won’t go willingly. I won’t, I will let you shoot me. Kill me, May, do to me what was done to Ben-Richard. Make sure no one can ever have me if you can’t. It’s the only way you can keep me safe right? By making sure I’m dead?” Peter sobbed, moving slowly onto his knees, trying to not be a threat to Mary. “You are scaring me. I used to feel safe with you May. You made me feel safe. But Mary, I don’t feel safe with you. I’d rather be dead then go to whatever place you want me too. You either need to kill me, or let me go to Tony. Either way he’ll make sure you go to jail. But I’ll try and get him to lighten up the sentence if you let me walk out of here tonight.” 
Peter was crying. And near incoherent, he wanted things to be normal. He wanted his Aunt May and he wanted to be at home watching a bad hallmark movie throwing popcorn at the tv. He wanted them to order cheap takeout food when May inevitably burnt dinner.
He could see the people trapped in the restaurant in them taking videos of them. He knew this was probably live on Facebook or Instagram or Tiktok or wherever they post live videos now. Tony was without a doubt watching when FRIDAY picked up his face online. Everyone at school would probably see this, him begging Mary to kill him instead of kidnapping him. 
Peter could hear the sound of repulsors, both of the suit and of the quinjet. He knew Mary only had limited time before Tony got here, and only a little bit more time before whatever available Avengers show up. Happy was probably busy securing the perimeter for the police. Or maybe he was working to get some of the hostages out.
“I don’t want to kill you Pete. I don’t want to kill you, it’s the last thing I want to do. So you need to come with me. You cannot go to Tony Stark. He can’t solve your problems. Let’s go. We can be together, forever. We can finally be the family I always wanted us to be. The family you always wanted to have. Mother and Son. We wouldn’t be Aunt and Nephew now that you know.”
Mary was shaking, her face red, finger on the trigger, safety turned off. She was ready to shoot her son, her child, her baby. She was fighting a losing battle. She said all the wrong things and she’s acting the wrong way. 
Iron Man touched down outside. 
“You have a minute Mary, let me leave, Tony is outside. It’ll be better if you let me go.” It was a final plea, he knew it probably wouldn’t do anything but it was worth the shot.
There was a beat of silence. 
“If I can’t have you then no one can.” Her voice was cold.
A repulsor charged. Mary was out of time. They both knew it. 
A shot rung out.
The window shattered.
Mary flew to the side.
Peter fell backwards.
Tony charged in.
Mary lost her grip on the gun, it skidded across the restaurant floor. Far out of her reach. She pushed herself away, trying to escape Iron Man. The attempt was in vain. Tony stood over her, face plate on the suit flicked up.
“You’re done Mary. You don’t get to hurt him anymore.” 
The Avengers swarmed in detaining Mary, working on getting the hostages out, having them checked by medical. 
“She shot me.” Peter cried out, trying to suck in air.
Tony turned to Peter, seeing the boy lying down. Pool of blood around him. A gun shot wound to the stomach. Peter was smiling teeth stained red. Tony broke out of his suit, skidding to his knees beside him. Tony put pressure on the wound trying to smile at Peter, to try and comfort his kid.
“Peter, kid, I’m right here. I’m right here bambino, it’s okay. She’s not going to hurt you anymore. You’re gonna move in with me, I’ve already got all the paperwork sort out. I promise you kid, you’ve got a home with me. I love you kid, it’s okay, we’ll be okay eventually.”
Peter nodded, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t hurt anymore, nothing hurt.
“I’m sorry Tony. I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. I shouldn’t’ve confronted her. She tried to kill me.” He coughed up blood. “I thought she’d tell me it was a lie. Mary never loved me.”
“It’ll be okay bambi, I’ve got you now.”
~~~~~
Peter woke up in the medbay. The lights were dimmed, Tony was asleep with his head on the Peter bed, Tony’s hand resting on Peter’s. The window’s were tinted so he couldn’t see out, and the door was closed most of the way closed. Peter grabbed a cup of water sitting on the nightstand, taking a sip and putting it back down.
“Tony?” Peter whispered, waking the man up.
“Hey Pete,” Tony smiled once he woke up, voice still sleepy, eyes willed with worry. “You comfortable? Can I get you anything? Whatever you need kid, I’ll get it for you.”
“She tried to kill me, Tony. She’d rather me dead, then alive with you. She’s the reason I’m like this. She made me a freak. Because of her I’m some mutant. She never loved me.”
“Oh Peter.” Tony sighed as Peter started sobbing.
Tony got up, crawling into the bed with Peter careful not to irritate the wound. He wrapped his arms around the boy, pulling him into his chest. Peter sobbed harder, clinging to Tony.
“You’re no freak Peter. You’re not just some mutant either. You are my kid though, my son, even if not biologically. You are so important to me Peter. I’m so sorry I couldn’t take care of you. I’m so sorry that Mary lied to you you’re whole life, but you’re my kid okay? You are Peter Parker or whoever you want to be. I’m proud of you. You deserved to be loved, bambino.”
“I don’t even want to be a Parker anymore. I don’t want to be related to my parents anymore.” 
Tony wiped the tears off his son’s face. They made eye contact, Peter’s red glassy eyes and Tony’s watery eyes. 
“Then be a Stark. Or a Carbonell. Or a Potts. Or whatever other last name there is that isn’t mine or Peppers. Right. Be a Hogan or a Rhodes. You can have whatever last name you could possibly want. Rogers. Barton. Romanoff. Banner. Odinson. Maximoff. Barnes. Wilson. You don’t have to be a Parker if you don’t want to be. But personally I like the sound of you being Peter Stark, though Peter Potts has a nice ring to it too. We could hyphenate too.”
Peter laughed. “Peter Stark-Potts-Rogers-Barton-Romanoff-Banner-Odinson-Maximoff-Barnes-Wilson? Is that what you want my name to be.”
“No you silly goose. Maybe Peter Stark-Potts. Or Peter Potts-Stark. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I won’t judge. Basically I wanted to say that Pepper and I want to keep custody of you. We currently have temporary custody, because it’s up to you. We didn’t want you left out. And eventually we’d like to adopt you too.” Tony paused for a beat. “But, I feel like we’re having this conversation entirely too soon and I should let you grieve first. Mary’s not dead, that was the wrong word. She’s alive. But I figured you’d be grieving the family you lost. So we can talk about this down the line. When you’re comfortable. But Pep and I will need to know the custody thing soon at least. Gotta keep CPS off our asses at some point.”
“Tony?”
Tony hummed in response.
“Thank you.”
108 notes · View notes
atmilliways · 3 years
Text
On the 5th day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…
Dec 17 - Putting up decorations!
Nathan had been thinking—a dangerous pastime, he knew, but it was either that or drink until he literally vomited out all the weird feelings swimming around in his guts, and that was a no-go because he’d already tried that.
Nathan/Charles to go with some stick figure art I drew, like, a decade ago haha.
~
This Is Very Unsafe
Nathan had been thinking—a dangerous pastime, he knew, but it was either that or drink until he literally vomited out all the weird feelings swimming around in his guts, and that was a no-go because he’d already tried that. Charles had given him a disapproving look for needing another liver transplant again so soon. That look, weeks later, still haunted Nathan.
The problem was that Charles was the problem.
Ever since he’d died, Nathan had been drowning in trying to remember how the guy ran everything, hoping to somehow manage Dethklok himself and avoid replacing someone who, it turned out, was really fucking irreplaceable. No one else had any right to sit behind that desk, although Nathan had done it in the hopes of channeling some latent CFO wisdom to try and get his band out of the hole they’d dug themselves into.
Then, poof, Charles had turned out to be not dead after all. But nine months of drowning didn’t just go away; ever since their manager’s return, Nathan had felt as though he’d crawled from a bottomless ocean into a desert and now, ironically, was dying of thirst.
He’d been thinking, and thinking, and then thinking some more. He’d acted out by dating Trindle, to see if Charles would have any sort of reaction, but if he did then that was one hell of a poker face. After the explosion at Klokikon and taking approximately one hundred showers, Nathan had come to the conclusion that what he’d really liked about Trindle (aside from the rockin’ tits) was that she’d wrapped her entire life and identity around him—something hadn’t even begun to occur to until he’d grabbed an offered hand for help up the last couple rungs into the dethkopter, looked up, and realized that the hand he held was Charles’.
Every day, all the time, Charles was there. His life revolved around Dethklok so literally that he’d died and then come back from the dead for them. The only reason Nathan had let go of his hand was because his bandmates were right on his ass trying to climb to safety too, and he had to get out of the way.
The whole thing had caught him by surprise. For one thing, Charles did not have rockin’ tits.
After much reflection, he’d come to the conclusion that maybe that wasn’t such a dealbreaker. He was starting to get that feeling around the guy, like back in high school when he’d had a crush on the head cheerleader and whenever he tried to talk to her he either went non-verbal or everything came out sounding angry and sullen.
So . . . he had a crush on his manager. Great.
And it was driving him fucking nuts. Did Charles even like guys? If he didn’t, would he make an exception for Nathan Explosion? If he did, was Nathan Explosion even his type? Nathan liked to think that he was everyone’s type, being famous and all . . . but that wasn’t likely to impress a man who’d held his hair back while he puked blood onto yet another operating room floor after lying about when he’d last eaten again.
But Christmas was coming up, and the holiday season was all about having a good time with the people you didn’t hate being around and making . . . fond memories and cookies and shit. As tongue-tied and stupid as Nathan always felt around Charles now, surely the holiday could offer something to talk to him about. Even if it was just about—
“Christmas decorations,” Charles repeated. His right eyebrow eased upwards a fraction of an inch.
“Yeah,” Nathan growled in confirmation, standing firmly in the manager’s office. “All over the Haus.”
“What kind—”
“All of them. All kinds.”
“. . . Okay. All kinds of decorations.” Charles made a note on the legal pad on his desk. “Live greenery or artificial?”
Nathan barely avoided saying ‘Huh? ’ out loud, because he hadn’t actually anticipated any questions. He scowled hard as he thought faster than he’d ever thought before in his life. “Uhhh . . . live.”
“Alright, I’ll have a team of Klokateers—”
“No I’ll do it. I’ll tell them what to get, I know what Christmas looks like,” Nathan snapped, and wondered why he kept interrupting. Fuck. Charles was probably getting real annoyed somewhere behind that poker face.
Charles paused, then put his pen down. “I, ah, didn’t mean to imply that you don’t.”
“Well . . . good.” Nathan crossed his arms and shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling like he should say more in order to not sound like such a jackass. “Uh, I’ll take care of the live stuff. You can do the rest, if you want.”
“Hm.” With an unreadable expression, Charles picked the pen back up. “I’m assuming you’d like the same as previous years, then? Everything in red, black, and silver?”
Nathan nodded. “And lots of candles this time,” he added, because candles were romantic and shit. Made for good mood lighting and creepy shadows.
“Lots of candles. Right.” Charles wrote that down too. His eyes flicked up to Nathan again. “Anything else?”
That’s when Nathan’s voice decided to desert him again, and he shook his head. He left shortly after, tugging his dethphone out of his pocket and searching ‘live Christmas decorations’ since he’d just fucking given himself that job. The conversation hadn’t even been worth it, all he’d done was snap at Charles again. Scowling, he thumbed through the search results and found pretty much what he’d expected.
Evergreens, ugh. Sure.
Pinecones, painful with thrown. Acceptable.
Logs. At least those could get set on fire.
Cinnamon sticks? No, Pickles would get drunk, try to eat them, and then whine about cinnamon buns.
Holly, fuck no. Not since that year Murderface had tried to make “homemade cranberry sauce.”
. . . Mistletoe.
A slow grin spread across Nathan’s broad face. Mistletoe. He could work with that.
~
By the start of the week before Christmas, everything was in place. Mordhaus was practically dripping with evergreen garlands and there was a dedicated contingent of Klokateers in charge of going around and making sure all the candles were either relit or replaced the moment they burned out, round the clock. In the pre-noon hours before the rest of the band was awake, at Nathan’s signal, the mistletoe was hoisted over the living room hot tub with care.
This took several Klokateers to accomplish, as Nathan had decided that mistletoe, a parasite, would be much more badass if hung up while still attached to its uprooted host tree. He settled into the hot tub beneath it with a mug of spiked eggnog and waited. Charles always showed up whenever any member of Dethklok did something stupid; all he had to do was wait.
Charles entered the room about fifteen minutes later, which Nathan found kind of flattering. He walked in eyeing the suspended tree warily, as though it might fall at any moment, and only glanced down at the front man when he’d reached just a bit closer than minimum safe distance. “Good morning, Nathan. May I, ah, ask what you’re doing?”
Nathan shrugged, stretching both arms out to rest casually along the edge of the hot tub. “Hanging out.” His stomach was doing spins and somersaults, but he was determined to play it cool.
Charles’ mouth compressed into a thin line—not that Nathan was staring or anything. “Under a tree? Nathan, please. I know you wanted to have some creative control in the decorations this year, but this is very unsafe.”
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“Nope.”
“. . . Excuse me?”
“I’m hanging out,” Nathan explained, “under a tree with mistletoe in it.” He waited a beat. “I’m under the mistletoe.”
At that predetermined signal, a listening Klokateer dimmed the living room lights down to a faint glow, accentuated by flickering candlelight that lit the edges of the cavernous room like low-hanging stars. There were no lower windows, but the upper ones were shuttered to add to the sense of ethereal gloom.
“Ah. . . .” Charles looked around, trying to determine why the light levels were changing, but the Klokateer had already ducked out per Nathan’s instructions. “What’s going on?”
Okay, here it was. Moment of truth. And hey, if it went badly he could always say,  Wasn’t me, it was the mistletoe and retreat to his room to get over this crush which would surely be smashed to pieces by robot-like rejection.
Nathan rose from the hot tub, knowing that the candlelight made his wet skin shine like one of those jacked dudes on the cover of romance novels. He automatically sucked his stomach in a little. “I’m under the mistletoe,” he said again, and his face felt warm but hopefully in the dimness it was hard to tell. “So, uh. That means you have to kiss me.”
“Kiss. . . ?” Charles started. He trailed off as Nathan took the first step away from the hot tub, black swim trunks dripping softly on the stone floor.
It was only one more step to reach the man, and Nathan took it. Took him by the shoulders, getting chlorinated water all over Charles’ expensive suit, and pulled him close, all but yanking him into a very self-conscious kiss in which Nathan was totally overthinking what to do with his crappy thin lips, eyes closed in concentration.
His eyes flew open when he felt Charles grab onto his arms and, instead of pushing him away, held on with completely unexpected strength. It was Charles who took control and deepened the kiss, maneuvering expertly until Nathan’s eyes drifted closed again, forgetting to be self-conscious and just . . . kissing back.
Fuck. Who knew that Charles would be such a good kisser? Totally worth it.
“Wow,” Nathan breathed when the kiss ended, their mouths still hovering mere millimeters apart.
Charles cleared his throat, not moving away either. “I second that. This was, ah, not what I was expecting when I came in here, but, well.” His gaze shifted pointedly towards Nathan’s kiss-bruised lips. “I suppose this sheds a new light on why you were so interested in decorating this Christmas.”
Above them, the hanging tree creaked. They glanced up at it in unison.
“Would you, ah, like to continue this discussion in my office?”
“. . . Yeah,” Nathan said with a slow grin. “Yeah, let’s do that.” He followed Charles, grabbing a towel along the way to dry off with.
Fuck yeah, mistletoe. Worked like a charm.
23 notes · View notes
gb-fics · 3 years
Text
Chocolate Mystery
Fanfiction:
Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)
Note: A chocolate mystery is like a murder mystery, just that the stakes are way lower. Have a happy Valentine’s Day! (^-^)
Valentine’s Day was a waste of time, that was Shou’s opinion on it at least. Especially since they still had so much to plan and organize until the tour started in March. Mere weeks and they would start their program with two shows per day, not knowing how that would work out at all. They had more important things to do than act lovey-dovey with someone.
Shou felt that way, because he was a responsible adult, to whom the fans were more important than anything else, and not because he didn’t have a significant other to spend the day with.
His bandmates were a different matter of course. Jun was spending Valentine’s Day with his family and Kenji hadn’t passed on a single opportunity to bring up the hot date he had secured for himself. Yutaka hadn’t bragged, but Shou knew, that he always had a date on Valentine’s Day. Most years, he wouldn’t shut up about it.
So, Shou was the only one sitting at home on his own today; not because he was sad and lonely, but because he was the only one dedicated enough to make the sacrifice to ensure their tour would work out as planned. He was angry at the others for leaving all the work up to him - as always. He wasn’t jealous, because Jun had already found the person, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, nor because Kenji would certainly get laid tonight with these obscene good looks of his, nor because of Yutaka.
The doorbell interrupted his negative thoughts.
Shou furrowed his brows. He was not expecting anyone. Absolutely everybody he knew had better things to do today than show up on his doorstep. Didn’t people know it was Valentine’s Day? They were supposed to be smooching or canoodling, or whatever you did on this day when you weren’t Shou.
Suspiciously he went over to the door.
“Yeah?”, he asked over the intercom.
“A delivery for Kiryuuin Shou”, a male voice said.
Shou hesitated. He wasn’t expecting anything. He hadn’t ordered anything online lately and when he did, he usually used his real name, since it was the one showing up on the bills as well. But it wouldn’t be the first time he had ordered something to the office and then forgotten about it. The staff usually forwarded the packages to him using his stage name.
He buzzed up the delivery guy and opened the front door already, so he wouldn’t have to ring again at the apartment door.
The young guy coming up the stairs wore a blue jacket with a logo patched to the shoulder, that looked somewhat official, but clearly didn’t belong to the regular postal service. He carried a small white box in his hand that seemed too delicate and quite frankly too clean to resemble a regular package.
“Mr. Kiryuuin?”, he asked.
“Yes, thank you”, Shou said and bowed his head lightly without taking the box. “What is this?”
The delivery guy looked down at the box in his hands in honest confusion. He looked so young, Shou guessed he was a college student working parttime.
“Well, it’s chocolates”, he pointed out dumbfounded. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m working for this start-up. We offer a delivery service especially for today. So, people can send chocolates to their loved ones. I’ve got a delivery for you.”
Shou stared at the box as if it might contain something poisonous. He sensed a cold and hard knot forming in his stomach. It was a very unpleasant feeling.
“Who sent this?”, he asked.
The delivery guy shrugged apologetic.
“Well, you’re the one who has to figure that out, dude. No girlfriend?”
Slowly Shou shook his head.
“I want to know, who sent this”, he inquired. “Can’t you check your records?”
“No, sorry, can’t do. Most girls pay cash and don’t leave a name. It’s not necessary.” He shrugged.
“Do you know what’s inside?”, Shou wanted to know.
Now the guy furrowed his brow. He looked annoyed. He probably had other deliveries to make. Maybe he had a quote to fulfil.
“It’s probably chocolates. What else would it be?”
“What if someone sends a bomb?”, Shou asked.
The poor boy looked seriously troubled now.
“Why would anyone do that? We just deliver chocolates and flowers and stuff. Just take it.”
Briefly Shou considered to just outright decline it. But then, they would probably just throw out the box and he would lose every chance he had to find out who had sent it to him.
“Fine”, he said warily and took the box.
The guy held out a paper for Shou to sign and he did it absentmindedly, before he took the box inside with him. It really looked pretty and had doted ribbons wrapped around it, too. It seemed like something you would send your crush chocolates in on Valentine’s Day. Even if it were chocolates, it was still troublesome.
Shou placed the box on the kitchen counter and stared at it. He tried to breathe calmly. Just in case, he had locked the front door from the inside.
Whoever had sent him this box knew where he lived. A strange person – someone, who could literally be anyone – knew his address. They could be watching the building right now. There was nothing scarier than an anonymous present send to your private address, when you were a celebrity.
No matter how much Shou tried to fight it, he felt the panic rising in his chest, the anxiety drilling his stomach. He remembered all the trouble it had caused, when his address had gotten leaked the first time: The rushed moving, having to find a new place within a short period of time, organizing the transport of the furniture, while not being able to stay at his own apartment. He had crushed on Yutaka’s couch for more than a week and even after he had finally moved, Yutaka had needed to stay over the first night with him, because he had felt too tense to fall asleep alone at the new place.
More than the stress of moving, it was the feeling of being unsafe at a place that was meant to be his home – his safe space – that Shou dreaded. He didn’t want to go through it again. Constantly scared that someone was staring up to his window, while he packed up his things, scared to leave in the evening, because someone might be waiting on the street for him. Honestly, it had taken Shou months to settle into his new apartment. He still made jokes about being pissed, because someone had forced the trouble of moving upon him, but truth was, that even now, years after, he still felt his chest tightening occasionally whenever he came home late in the evening, not being able to shake the feeling of someone watching him as he unlocked the front door.
He turned around and drew the curtains, although his apartment was up too high for anyone to look in through the window anyway. Instead, he switched on the light overhead and felt a little bit calmer instantly.
He was still anxious, but at least the panic didn’t make him want to throw up anymore.
He considered taking the box over to the next police station. Maybe there were fingerprints on it. Maybe they could send someone back home along with him to watch the door to make sure no creepy stalker was sneaking around his neighbourhood while he slept.
But then the police might just laugh in his face, because a box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day wasn’t exactly much to go by. And he didn’t want to risk any publicity, before he had talked to the management. But could he really call them right now? It was Sunday and everyone was out of office, on Valentine’s Day for sure. Not that he wouldn’t be able to reach anyone, but he would feel bad for bothering them today. It would be better to inform everyone on Monday. No one had dropped dead animals on his doorstep after all. He probably wasn’t in any acute danger.
He really needed to talk to someone, though. Even if it was just to calm himself. Someone, who would understand and who was also affected, because a threat to Shou posed a threat to the entire band of course.
Shou took up his mobile and was about to dial Yutaka’s number, when he stopped short.
Would Yutaka really be okay with it, if he just called him now? He would probably scold Shou for bothering him. On Valentine’s Day moreover, when he had a date for sure. A small, mean part of Shou wanted to call him even more so. It would be the perfect excuse to ruin Yutaka’s date and take his revenge on him for being out having fun, when Shou was sitting home alone, working on the tour for all of them. But then he knew that he would never bring himself to be that much of a jerk. No matter how bitter he was, he didn’t want Yutaka to suffer because of his pettiness. The same went for Kenji, actually. He couldn’t call either of them and disturb their dates for selfish reasons. After all, they might be out with their future spouse this very moment. He couldn’t risk their chance of finding the right person.
So, he called the only person, who already had.
“Hello?”, Jun said after the fourth ring.
“Hey, Jun, it’s me, Shou”, Shou muttered.
“Oh, what’s up?”, Jun sounded tense, as if he dreaded the answer. Maybe he was scared Shou would make him work on his day off.
“I got Valentine’s chocolates”, Shou said. “That means, it’s supposed to be chocolates. It’s really just a white box. And I’m completely freaking out. I mean, it was an anonymous delivery. Jun, I think my address got leaked. Some crazy fan found out where I live and sent me this box and now, I’m not sure, if I should call the management or go to the police or …”
“Shou, calm down”, Jun interrupted him.
Shou took in another deep breath, trying to remind his body that he was not in physical danger right now.
“I’m scared”, Shou said quietly.
“You’re just being paranoid”, Jun said. “Those chocolates could be from anyone.”
“Exactly!”, Shou agreed.
Through the phone he heard Jun sigh.
“I just mean, they could be from the office. Or from someone you know. Have you opened the box yet?”
“Hell, you think I’m crazy?” Shou’s voice sounded too high-pitched in his own ears. “I’ve been sent teeth in the mail before. Fucking teeth. And those were sent to the office. Someone, who is crazy enough to sent it to my private address could be sending a severed ear, or a poisonous spider or whatnot. There is really no way I’m going to open this box.”
“You should just open it”, Jun said. “Didn’t you talk to the others yet?”
Shou stayed silent for a moment, clenching the phone tightly in his hand. He knew that Jun was really just asking about Yutaka, because he was always the one, whom Shou called first.
“I didn’t want to disturb them on Valentine’s Day”, he admitted weakly.
“Oh, but you could disturb me?”, Jun asked huffily.
“A sudden phone call can really ruin a first date”, Shou pointed out. “Your wife is not going to divorce you, just because you picked up the phone.”
Jun sighed once again.
“Okay, Shou, whatever you do, don’t take the box to the police, before even knowing what’s inside. I don’t think you should bother the management with it today either. Just take a look inside and if it’s something weird or dangerous, call me again and we’ll work it out. Okay? Just try to stay calm.”
“You’re just going to hang up on me like that?”, Shou assured in disbelief. “While my life might be in grave danger?”
“Well, it is Valentine’s Day”, Jun reminded him. “So, I’ve got to go. Open the damn box. Talk to you later.”
“Thanks for nothing”, Shou mumbled into the speaker, but the dial tone told him that Jun had already hung up. His bandmates really were useless.
He eyed the box again. Was Jun right? Was he overreacting? Maybe he should just brace himself and open the box. Not that he was going to eat the chocolates, if there were any inside. They might be poisoned. Or filled with a magic love portion. Or make him go bald. But at least he would know for sure what was inside the box.
He shook his head. No, he couldn’t do it. He just wasn’t brave enough. He needed to calm down first.
Turning his back on the white box as if he could trick it into thinking he didn’t care, Shou started pacing the apartment. He wasn’t sure if the movement actually helped to calm himself, but at least it gave him the feeling, that he was doing something. He stayed clear of the windows, though. You never knew who might be watching.
He got out his phone and checked it, although he didn’t know what for. He wasn’t expecting any calls.
Catching some fresh air would be nice. It would certainly relax him to go for a walk outside. But he didn’t dare to leave the apartment. He felt the anxiety rising in his chest almost physically. Moments ago, he had still considered consulting the police, now he couldn’t image going out on his own anymore at all. Eventually he would need to get new groceries. Maybe he could order something online? But how would he known whom to answer the door safely?
Shortly Shou closed his eyes.
His fears were getting irrational now. Maybe it would be better to stay inside today, but even if the box turned out to be from a creepy stalker fan, the management would come pick him up by tomorrow the latest. For that, he really needed to check what was inside the box, though.
There was really no point in avoiding it. He had to take a look inside, before he drew any conclusions. And really, how bad could it be? He had received teeth in the mail before and he had survived that, although it had freaked him out quite a bit. There was a fair chance it wouldn’t get worse than that, even if the circumstances were more frightening this time.
He went back over to the box and stared at it challengingly. It was just a box presumably filled with chocolates. It would not get the better of Shou.
Hesitantly he reached out.
The doorbell rang.
The sound was so loud and unexpected, that Shou flinched so hard, he hit his arm against the kitchen counter. He winced.
Who might that be? The stalker themselves? Were they testing him? Playing mind games?
But then, the explanation didn’t have to be so dark. Maybe Jun had changed his mind and come over to check on Shou. Quite a bit of time had passed since their call. Enough time for him to get here, if he hurried.
Shou walked over to the door and turned on the intercom.
“Yes?”, he asked warily.
“Buzz me up, you fucking moron”, a familiar voice shouted through the speaker.
Shou felt his whole body relaxing instantly. It was alright now. He didn’t know why Yutaka had shown up at his apartment, but it didn’t matter. Important was only that he was here now and just hearing his voice made Shou feel almost safe again.
He pressed the button to allow Yutaka into the building. This time, he waited before opening his front door, though. He stood behind it, until he heard Yutaka’s aggressive knocking. He never rang the doorbell like a normal person, but had to use his fist as if he was trying to pick a fight with the door.
Shou unlocked the door and yanked it open. The desire to just throw himself into Yutaka’s arms was almost overwhelming. He just wanted to be held for a moment, he just wanted to no longer feel alone but physically safe, and it would have been his reaction with any of his acquaintances showing up on his doorstep right now. Yutaka wasn’t special.
Yutaka’s facial expression stopped him short, though.
The lines showing on his forehead made him look grumpy, but he kept his eyes on the floor as if avoiding Shou’s gaze, which was pretty weird for someone, who usually never dodged a confrontation.
“What are you doing here?”, Shou asked.
Yutaka exhaled soundly and he finally looked up. He seemed oddly relieved, as if he had expected a different greeting.
“Jun called me to give me a heads up. He told me your paranoid ass was stressing over Valentine’s chocolate.”
Shou waved him in and made sure to lock the front door again. It made Yutaka roll his eyes visibly.
“It’s just weird”, Shou defended himself. “How would anyone know my private address? It’s scary they were delivered here.”
“The only thing weird about it is that anyone would send you chocolates to begin with. What a strange choice”, Yutaka muttered and went into the apartment without waiting for a proper invitation. He moved like he was at home here, too. “What’s with the curtains?”
Without waiting for an answer Yutaka went over to pull them open and let the daylight in again. He remained standing next to the window.
“Shut them again”, Shou asked. “I’m worried someone might be watching the apartment.”
“God, Shou, it’s probably someone you know. That’s how they knew your address. That’s the most reasonable explanation and what any normal person would assume first.”
Shou didn’t know why Yutaka sounded this angry. He usually had an aggressive way of talking, but at least with Shou he was normally patient. Maybe he was annoyed that Shou had ruined his Valentine’s date. The thought made him feel giddy and gleeful inside, but he tried not to pay attention to it. He was happy that Yutaka had chosen him over his date, but not in an inappropriate way.
“If they know me, they could have given the chocolates to me in person”, Shou said. “If we’re speaking of what a normal person would do.”
“Maybe they were scared of your reaction”, Yutaka said and crossed the arms in front of his chest. It looked funny how he remained standing next to the window instead of sitting down anywhere.
“If they knew me, they should have considered, that it would frighten me this way”, Shou insisted.
He smacked his lips, angry at Yutaka for scolding him instead of offering him the comfort he craved. But then he reminded himself, that Yutaka had probably given up on his date to be here in the first place and he should be less strict with him.
“Maybe they are just stupid”, Yutaka answered, his voice a lot louder than it had to be. “They have to be for liking you in the first place.”
“Why aren’t you on your date?”, Shou asked.
“My date?” Yutaka sounded so baffled, that he forgot to shout this time. “Who told you I had a date?”
Shou shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t want Yutaka to think he had spent a lot of time picturing him on a date or anything.
“I just assumed”, he said vaguely. “That’s why I called Jun and not you. You always have a Valentine.”
Yutaka sighed.
“Well, this year I don’t. I messed up big time.”
“That doesn’t surprise me”, Shou mocked, more cheerful immediately. “I’m just surprised it never happened before.”
Yutaka gave him a dry smile and nodded over to the box.
“Now, just open the goddamn box already, so we can put that behind us. Whoever sent it probably left a note inside.”
Shou looked at him dumbfounded. He had to admit, that he hadn’t really thought of that yet. Just because the delivery boy hadn’t been able to give a name, he had assumed the box had been sent anonymously. He hadn’t really considered, that it might contain an actual confession.
“Alright”, he agreed sheepishly and turned towards the box. He waited for Yutaka to join him.
He didn’t.
Shou looked up. Yutaka had turned his back on him and was looking out the window as if he didn’t care at all, what Shou was up to. He had lowered his arms again and seemed unable to decide what to do with his hands. That was unusual for him. Normally Yutaka seemed very much at ease with his own body. Briefly Shou considered, that in spite of his dismissive words, Yutaka wasn’t entirely convinced that nothing horrible was inside the box either. Maybe he was also scared of Shou finding a severed ear inside and just tried to act tough to not worry him any further. He had the habit of acting more chill than he really was, just for Shou’s sake.
“Are you just going to let me do it alone?”, Shou asked incredulous.
“What do you want me to do?”, Yutaka asked and scoffed. “You need me to hold your hand?”
Shou felt his cheeks heating up and he lowered his gaze onto the box fast. Actually, he thought that it would feel nice, if Yutaka held his hand to comfort him, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
“Of course not”, he said quietly and reached out to undo the ribbons around the box. With Yutaka by his side, he felt a whole lot braver than before.
Slowly he lifted the lid of the box.
There were chocolates inside indeed. Small, dark pralines that looked like they had been purchased from an actual chocolatier. The expensive kind.
Yutaka had been right about the note, too. On top of the chocolates sat a folded piece of white paper.
Shou took it up and unfolded it. His heart was beating very quickly. He felt scared, but strangely enough not in a dreadful way. He felt nervous.
His eyes fell onto the handwriting.
Shou, the note read. No “dear” or “beloved”, that would indicate a confession. The Valentine’s note started like an announcement. I don’t like admitting this, but I have romantic feelings for you. Since no one else will want you as their Valentine anyway, would you be mine?
The note was signed, too.
Shou put it back down onto the kitchen counter and licked his lips.
“You gave me a scare, idiot”, he said and looked up.
“I didn’t know you wouldn’t even open it”, Yutaka said and finally turned around to face Shou, although they were still several metres apart. “I’m sorry, though. I came here to miniate the damage. I wasn’t meaning to scare you.”
Shou nodded slowly. Yutaka looked lost as if he didn’t know what he was doing at Shou’s apartment any longer.
“Apology accepted”, Shou said.
“You don’t seem surprised”, Yutaka observed.
Shou smiled.
“Well, when you pointed out that the sender would have to be extraordinary stupid, I kind of figured. After all, you’re the dumbest person I know.”
“Alright”, Yutaka said and clapped his hands together. “I just wanted to assure there was no reason for you to be scared. Your address didn’t get leaked. You can sleep peacefully tonight. So, now that that’s settled, I’ll be on my way.”
He finally took a step away from the window to move towards the front door.
“Don’t you want to hear my answer first?”, Shou wanted to know.
Yutaka stopped short and looked at him wide-eyed. His face seemed to mirror the fear Shou had felt only a short while ago. Finally, Shou understood how much he had needed to overcome himself to show up here and face Shou, while he opened the box. He must have wanted to comfort Shou badly, if he was that scared of his reaction and had come here anyway. But then, it was very much like Yutaka to put his own worries behind himself only to take care of Shou – while being a total jerk about it at the same time.
“I think I better … I should …” Yutaka pointed towards the door helplessly. He looked like he wanted to just run out the door, before Shou could answer; like an animal in flight mode.
“Yes”, Shou interrupted him hastily to put him at ease. “Yes, I do want to be your Valentine.”
“Really?” The word came out incredibly soft and the tension disappeared from Yutaka’s shoulders visibly.
“Absolutely”, Shou confirmed and walked over to the window. Yutaka still looked like he could need some comfort. “I’m so happy the chocolates were from you.”
Gently he reached out and put his hands against Yutaka’s neck.
“I’m happy too”, Yutaka whispered.
Shou leaned in and rested his forehead against Yutaka’s. He sensed his body relaxing instantly. Being this close to Yutaka put him at ease like nothing else.
“I’m happy I’m no longer in danger of getting arrested by the police for having shitty taste in men”, Yutaka clarified.
Shou chuckled.
“And I’m happy that I won’t have to move”, he said. “It’s such a hassle.”
Yutaka laughed quietly. Shou sensed his body trembling softly against himself. The sound of Yutaka’s laughter made him feel safe. He leaned in and kissed him right in front of the window.
He didn’t even care to draw the curtains first.
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pcttrailsidereader · 4 years
Text
The Scariest Encounters Women Have on the Trail are with Men
One of the more chilling episodes in Wild was when Cheryl Strayed encountered two hunters in Central Oregon, one of whom made her rightfully uncomfortable . . . “She’s got a really nice figure, don’t she?” the sandy-haired man said. “Healthy, with some soft curves. Just the kind I like.”  And it got worse.  In the end, she was able to extricate herself but not without considerable anxiety.
Natasha Carver in “Walking Down a Dream” from The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: California shares a story of camping near a road.  A car stops late at night.  Natasha and her hiking partner feel very exposed and very vulnerable. Indeed, the scariest encounters women have on the trail are with men.
This article, taken from the Daily Beast, focuses on the AT . . . but, in general, the issues are . . . sadly . . . the same.
By Melanie Hamlett, the Daily Beast
As a 30-year-old nurse who works with terminally ill patients, Julia (who prefers to remain anonymous) asked herself one day what she would be proud of doing if she too were given a diagnosis of only six months to live. Shortly after, she left Pittsburgh to start hiking the 2,190-mile Appalachian Trail—a highly coveted peacock feather in the cap of outdoor adventurers. But this epic odyssey from Georgia to Maine proved to be far more challenging for Julia and over a dozen women interviewed for this piece because of one factor.
Their being female.
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It’s no surprise women experience annoyances like casual or even outright sexism in the outdoor adventure world, but on the Appalachian Trail some are facing more traumatizing problems like stalking, sexual harassment, and even assault. Last May, the unthinkable happened—a brutal murder.
People had been warning local officials for six weeks about James Jordan, a violent “fight angel” who is currently being tried for murder in Virginia. In April numerous hikers reported disturbing behavior, including being verbally assaulted by Jordan and even threatened with a machete. He was later arrested on multiple charges, including possession of weed, and was ordered to stay off the trail. In May he returned anyway and allegedly threatened to pour gasoline on four campers and burn them alive in their tents.
He later chased two of them down the trail before finally giving up. When he returned, he allegedly stabbed Richard S. Sanchez Jr. to death, then chased Sanchez’s female hiking partner down the trail and stabbed her. She only survived because she played dead, then ran down the trail for help once he left. Jordan was found and taken into custody early the next morning. This tragedy became a traumatizing reminder that even in a majestic wilderness sanctuary like the Appalachian Trail, America is a violent, scary country, especially for women.
As a frequent solo traveler and former professional wilderness guide, I’m a huge advocate of women exploring the world, especially alone. It’s empowering as hell. I’ve never let fear (or too many episodes of Law and Order SVU) deter me from solo adventures. The point of telling the following stories isn’t to scare anyone off the trail but rather to educate women on how to protect themselves and to ask should-be male allies to stop turning a blind eye. Until the outdoor industry, which prides itself on being quite woke-ish, is ready for its own #MeToo reckoning, women won’t feel safe.
“Women have no way of knowing who will be the next James Jordan versus who’s just an awkward dude or entitled asshole.”
The Appalachian Trail is a microcosm of American culture but with far higher stakes. Statistically, women are way safer on the trail than on college campuses or in even their own homes. There’s only one rape reported (....reported) every few years on the trail and the chance of getting murdered there is 1,000 times less than in America as a whole. And yet, the absence of deadbolts to lock oneself behind or of multiple witnesses around to deter violent men from attacking us means the occasional trail creeper can be a million times scarier and more dangerous. The only thing protecting a woman alone in a tent from that sketchy stranger she previously encountered on the trail or the seemingly cool one she’s been hiking with for weeks is a thin piece of nylon. “I physically ran into a bear,” says Julia, “and I’d take that over running into a crazy drunk dude any day.”
Despite having overwhelmingly great experiences with trail men, all of the women I spoke with encountered men, especially older white ones, who either made sexist, condescending comments or made them feel unsafe. “I even got ‘smile more,’” Julia says. “It’s exhausting.”
Surprisingly, even woke-ish/feminist-type men creeped many of these women out. Julia said one of her first hiking partners, who seemed progressive, asked to rub her legs. Later, another one repeatedly hit on her and made her feel unsafe. The other guys in her group eventually sided with her and ditched him, but only after she showed enough evidence, like his unnerving texts. The men just didn’t see it, she says. “I’m thinking, how the fuck do you not see this guy is a creep?” Later, while hiking alone, a random guy aggressively probed her about where she was going and who she was with, then found her 200 miles down the trail and threatened to come into the women’s tents while they slept.
Hilary York, a 30-year-old piano technician from Denver, felt a bit gaslit by should-be allies. There were only three men who made her really uncomfortable during her 2,190 mile trek, two of them sketchy enough to scare even the men away. But the third was “your standard hippie type” who undressed her with his eyes and was clearly looking to hook up. When she told her guy friends he made her uncomfortable, they thought she was being dramatic and overly sensitive. Her female friends, on the contrary, unanimously agreed he was creepy. “I think the most frustrating thing is having your intuition downplayed,” says York. Which is why she turned to Facebook.
Most people go into the woods hoping to escape the traps of modern life, especially social media, yet women on the trail don’t always have that luxury. York says an Appalachian Trail group for women on Facebook has become a priceless space that helps women feel as comfortable, safe, and empowered as possible. The moderators are careful not to allow any man-bashing or vague accusations.
As a woman who’s worked almost exclusively in male-dominated industries, namely the outdoors, comedy, and film, I too have relied on whisper networks to feel safe, which is what this women’s FB group does. York says this group was quite critical in getting important information out about James Jordan when rangers couldn't. Oddly enough, the FBI is in charge of crimes committed on the AT because it’s administered by the National Park Service. Some hikershave criticized the FBI for failing to warn or protect everyone from a man they knew was dangerous.
There are a lot of men out there scaring the shit out of women in other ways, which is why we need men to be more thoughtful, pay attention, and be better allies. The stakes are too high in the woods. Women have no way of knowing who will be the next James Jordan versus who’s just an awkward dude or entitled asshole and relatively harmless. Women have to assume the worst.
Since York hiked with a man and has a solid poker face, she felt lucky compared to the “kinder-faced, solo female hikes.” Kristin Forster, a 28-year-old pastry chef living in Hamburg, Germany, had previous experiences with a stalker on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail), so she knew how to handle sketchy dudes—be nice and calm but don’t answer their questions. But stranger danger wasn’t her problem in the end.
“Other hikers along the way also promised to back Cowan up and help her. But when it came to actually doing anything, none stepped up.”
For eight weeks Forster hiked with a trail partner who seemed chill and supportive. Being on the trail, she says, means you get closer to people faster, especially during extreme weather situations. Like me and my coworkers when I guided on the trail, Forster and her hiking partner would have to snuggle to warm up on brutally cold, rainy days. During one of these times, she felt his dick in her back. “That’s when it got weird.” She doesn’t blame him for getting a boner at all. But when she casually reminded him that she had a boyfriend back home, he flipped a switch and started mocking her and being super mean. She eventually left him because he made the trail so intolerable for her.
Beth, a 39-year-old consultant who’d rather remain anonymous to protect her safety, hiked with a seemingly cool guy for 10 days before he started to attach himself to her “like glue,” hovering over her constantly, even when she needed alone time. She tried to hike ahead several times, but he’d always catch up. After Beth reminded him she was in a committed relationship with a guy back home, he started making comments on her appearance and how attractive she was.
One day he walked up on her changing clothes in one of the shelters, despite her warning him, saw her full frontal naked, then got defensive that she was upset. “I was completely humiliated yet I convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal,” she says. She eventually decided to ditch him for good. Afraid of his reaction to feeling rejected, Beth waited until they were at a hostel in town with the safety of people around to break the news. “His face literally blackened.”
She felt safe once the trail logs were showing him 2-3 days ahead of her. Then she ran into him. He admitted he’d seen her name registered at a hostel and had taken a “zero” day (zero miles) to wait for her. Panicked, she ran after another guy hiking by, told him she was being stalked, and asked if he’d let her hike with him for a bit. Her stalker passed them shortly thereafter and was never seen again. Beth and her new hiking partner, who became a dear friend, hiked all the way to Maine together.
“As women we are programmed to be nice and polite,” she says, “and I actually found it harder to advocate for myself because I had gotten to know this guy.” Other men have since tried to attach themselves to her on long-distance hikes, but she’s learned how to protect herself sooner. “A lot of men on the trail are desperately lonely and will prey on women who come across as sweet and compliant,” she says. Especially if you don’t set firm boundaries out of the gate.
Jessica Cowan, a 38-year-old freelancer from Ohio, set out on the AT alone, assuming she’d find a “tramily” (trail family) like everyone talks about. But she never quite fell in with a group hiking her pace. When she met her stalker, who we’ll call Doc, he seemed charming, generous, and cool. Although she made it clear she had a boyfriend and wasn’t looking for a trail fling or a relationship change, he eventually started to express interest and asked about her relationship. “I found his behaviors really, really creepy, but when I talk about it, nothing I say sounds incredibly creepy,” she says. “I don’t know if it's an overreaction on my part… or if I’m gaslighting myself.” She was even hesitant to use the word stalking when telling this horrific story.
When crashing in shelters, he’d try to scoot his mat next to hers to sleep, wouldn’t avert his eyes when she announced she was changing, and even got caught staring at her when she was using a privy one day. After seeing Doc go on some hostile rants over the smallest things, she knew he was truly unstable. It was another woman briefly hiking with them, a psychologist, who helped her realize he was obsessed with her and that she needed to get a lot of miles ahead of him.
After that, Cowan tried everything to keep distance from Doc. She “slack-packed” (paying someone to drive her gear up the road), pushed her body to the limit, day after day, and even bought a new tent with wildly different colors to camouflage herself. Whenever she thought she was far enough ahead of him, another hiker would say he was nearby. Doc eventually caught up to her at a hostel after paying someone to drive him up the road.
Cowan finally filed a police report so they’d at least have him on their radar. Hostel workers promised her not to welcome him, but in the end, only one kept his word. The rest gave him the benefit of the doubt. Cowan thinks it was just easier to take his money. Other hikers along the way also promised to back Cowan up and help her. But when it came to actually doing anything, none stepped up. Despite her having mostly pleasant encounters with men on the trail, their blind-eye approach was disappointing. “I think a lot of men are guilty of taking that path of least resistance.”
Cowan did keep her boyfriend, Cowboy Knueve, apprised of the situation the whole time. “You have no idea how much sleep I lost,” he says. “I was sitting home worrying about her and this asshat.” Right after Cowboy dropped her off at the beginning of her hike, James Jordan murdered one hiker and wounded another on the trail in Virginia. “I knew how important this whole thing was for her,” he says. “It just pissed me off that he ruined her trip.” Even though Cowan told him she had it handled, Knueve finally drove 700 miles to make sure.
Knueve stayed with Cowan at night and ran shuttles for fellow hikers during the day while she hiked. He says he met at least a half a dozen women who’d done a lot of night hiking and “busted their ass” to get away from this same guy. Cowan and Kneuve tried to warn everyone about Doc.
One day they actually saw him at a campsite, so Knueve decided to confront him. Having googled the guy, he knew he was a multiple felon and had been charged for unlawful imprisonment of a woman. “I wanted to spray the man and kick him until he’s tired…. but I didn’t want to go to jail.” Instead he told Doc he knew he was stalking women and harshly warned him to stay away.
“If anyone fucks with me on the trail this year, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face and carry the fuck on.”
Before leaving to go home, Kneuve drove Cowan 200 miles up the road to give her a safe distance from Doc. Shortly after, though, they picked up another hitchhiker and she was running away from Doc. That’s when Cowan realized this just wasn’t fun anymore. “I should only have to worry about where I’m getting water and where I’m gonna sleep,” she says. “Not if he’s gonna turn up.” She made it a few hundred miles farther, but finally gave up. Instead of enjoying any hard-earned sense of accomplishment or pride for hiking one thousand miles, Cowan couldn't feel excited about her milestones. It all seemed pointless. “I felt like I was running for my life every day.”
“I encountered a lot of promises of support that didn’t really hold up. Except for my boyfriend, I didn’t see anyone else confronting him or calling him on his bullshit. I think they all just wanted to stay away,” she says. “Especially after the murder.” She’s still amazed that one man could affect hundreds of miles of hiking for so many people. More than anything, Cowan hopes this story will lead to men stepping up. Or at the very least, believing women.
Having solo hiked the Appalachian Trail before, Missy Barger went into her 2019 hike already prepared to play by different rules than men have to. “We have to be hyper aware, but also not jump to any conclusions,” says the 49-year-old photographer from Boston. She watches men closely but plays it cool, never giving them hugs or smiling too much. “And men?” she laughs “Well, they... just get to hike!” Being older, more experienced on the AT and more confident than a lot of her twentysomething female peers, she knows she’s regarded as “one tough motherfucker.” That usually “keeps guys off” her. And yet, despite all this, even Barger ended up with a stalker.
She’d been camping right down the road when the murder happened, so she was even more careful this year. “An odd person doesn’t strike me as different. We’re all odd… cuz we’re out here,” Barger says. But when a guy, who we’ll call Bear, started going on aggressive political rants and undressing in front of her, she knew it was time to bounce. The next day he popped up on her path and wouldn’t let her through. When he appeared a third time and started to verbally assault her, she and her “tramily” hiked four hours in the middle of the night in the pouring rain to get away. They later reported him to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (ATC).
In the end, Barger had to skip the whole state of New Jersey and half of New York to get away from Bear, but she went back and completed that section later. This detour and return trip cost her nearly $600. Whether it’s the actual price of shuttles, extra nights in hostels, a new tent to camouflage yourself or the emotional burden of fearing for your life, the “female tax” is a hefty one, even in the woods.
Luckily, Barger found great male allies, like Eric Bellavance. This 51-year-old heavy equipment mechanic from Boston and trail vet waited to pursue a romantic relationship with Barger until after they completed the trail. One way he believes men can be supportive of women is to use more self-restraint than they might back home. “You want to be extra aware of being creepy. It’s that simple,” he says. “If they’re whipping off their clothes, just turn away and start doing stuff,” he says. Give them their privacy and space when they need it, keep your distance, and don’t touch them, he says. While Bellavance thinks most thru-hikers, by a certain point, become acclimated on how to interact with women and not freak them out, there are still those who do whatever they want because “it’s kinda lawless” on the trail. “They’re out here because society won’t tolerate their behavior back home,” he says. “We’re all out here because we don’t fit in society.” But this lack of social codes and rules is exactly why women need men to be more careful and step up.
Bellavance says some day-hikers and locals will hang out on the trail and wait for solo women to pass by, just to prey on them. Warning others or reporting them to authorities is one thing men can do. Sometimes he says hikers have to take trail justice into their own hands, though. Last year a section-hiker touched a woman in her sleep at one of the backpacker hostels, so Bellavance and his friend tracked him down and threatened to kick his ass if he did it again. When another male hiker exposed himself to a woman on the trail, Bellavance welcomed her to hike with them.
“We are asking men in the outdoor industry to listen, believe us, step up, and use your privilege to call out other men.”
“I look at it this way—it’s already hard enough, women don’t need any shit from men.” Bellavance lets spooked women latch onto him when they need to since women are way less likely to be approached by a guy when they’re already with one. He never asks women for their phone numbers, real names (most go by a trail name), or social media handles because he knows men are harassing and stalking women online too. When Barger hikes solo, a lot of men ask to be snapchat friends. “Fuck, I just want to hike,” she says. “I have to have extra guardrails up when I post on social media.”
In general, Barger has run out of patience for men’s bullshit. “If anyone fucks with me on the trail this year, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face and carry the fuck on.” She refuses to be scared off by men and encourages other women not to be either. To help protect current and future female hikers, Barger is very active on FB groups.
Unfortunately, those groups aren’t always safe either.
Shilletha Curtis, a writer from Newark, New Jersey, plans to hike the entire Appalachian in 2021. As a Black woman and a lesbian, though, she’s not sure who will have her back out there, as she’s already faced harassment on her trail day hikes. In a co-ed AT Facebook group, white men have already been harassing her about her recent publication, some posting “Hikers Lives Matter.” The male FB administrators have accused her of race baiting when she talks about racism on the trail. “We need to make these groups a safe space for everyone, not just white members, as Black people do hike.” Latrina Graham’s powerful essay about being a Black woman just trying to hike goes even deeper into this huge problem.
Until white hikers, particularly white men, do more to make the trail safer for everyone, what do the rest of us do? Not hiking isn’t an option, nor should it be. Most women I spoke with agreed that the best way to stay safe is to trust your intuition and to avoid gaslighting yourself or being too “nice.” Always sign guest books as two people or use a male/ambiguous name, invent a “dude backstory” about a “friend” that’s nearby, and never post photos at recognizable spots on social media. Obviously it’s #notallATmen making women’s lives hard... but it only takes one.
We are asking men in the outdoor industry to listen, believe us, step up, and use your privilege to call out other men. That’s what will help us feel safe. We are tired. We need your help.
Because we belong here, too.
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omegle-poop-stories · 4 years
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You're chatting with a random stranger. Say STAND WITH HONG KONG AGAINST THE CCP!
You both like pee, poop, shit, and scat.
35m, looking for a messy/naughty girl who loves to play messy
Do you accept 15 year olds? Because I am that girl~
Really?
Am I too old?
Nope
Younger than my mum actually
Because...... a very messy kinky little girl is kind of my fantasy :D
Heh well
I love roleplay and if your up for it I'll be your sexy messy naughty little maid and slut
sounds like fun. Do you mind if I ask how you go to be so kinky at such a young age?
I was kinkier when I was 7
oh?
No I didn't even know what cum was but I was into the bdsm, scat, piss, cunt slapping, soiling, diapers all that before I turned 8
omg you are like the perfect girl
(Love diapers! on "older" girls)
Did someone introduce you to it? Or you just found out that you liked messing yourself and slapping your cunt?
Hehe I actually wore diapers because of bedwetting problems but they were to expensive so I had to stop wearing
And no I just found it I guess idk how but yea
It was years ago 😂
Do you like it when you exicted older guys so much?
The guys I talked to were usually 26-30
But one guy in particular was like 37
And he was like ew he asked to see pics if me every five seconds
And even when I was out he was like "hey send me a pic of your pussy"
Anyway
sorry that he was a jerk
It's not your fault he's probably dead now it's been 6 years lol
how do you like to play exaclty.... messing (obviously) . being fucked in your mess?
do you have an ultimate fantasy?
Oh yea I like being fucked in the ass in particualr
Yes I have a fantasy
May I hear it?
Sure
I wanna be fucked till I'm numb dripping in cum, sweat and piss, I want you to whip spank and slap me till I cry then force me to hold my mess until I literally cant and I'm begging to use the bathroom if I manage to hold it for 6 days straight I am allowed to use the bathroom if not I have to go into public in ONLY my soiled panties
And after that I wanna be put in diapers and re potty trained until I learn not to mess myself
ohh... that kind of dovetails with a fantasy of mine.... fucking you after you have held in your mess so long that you wet/mess all over. Works for all three holes ;) . I also love fully clothed sex/messing (and I already mentioned diapers
do you eat/drink/swallow at all? Or just mess?
I've never tried it tbh but I mean I would love to give my mess to people
??
I mean if they wanted it 😂
I was more asking for something along this scenario.... I make you hold and you are sucking me (or more accuratly I am fucking your face) and you mess your diaper so I make you take it off and wrap it around my cock and continue the BJ with your dirty diaper
but that isn't for everyeone
Oh that sounds fun hehe and I suppose id do it if I was particularly horny
But not something I'd do unless someone mentioned it
i also love the idea of having you as my maid (or daughters bff or whatever reason you are in my house) and we start a kinky taboo affair where I am your daddy and you are my messy little/baby girl
like purposely "being bad" and messing yourself during a BJ and then i fuck you in your little messy ass
That sounds like a new fantasy of mine 🤭
my little taboo teenage messy mistress.... wearing things that you know will drive me crazy...
did you want to rp the build up... (which can be boring... depending on the partner) or after we have allready discovered each other?
Hmm well I think discovered each other would be fun but maybe like just coming home for tea or something with your daughter and immediately think your hot as fuck
okay we can do that. How forward do you want me to be?
Little does your daughter know I wear diapers and as soon as I walk past you notice a faint shitty smell
Maybe like touchy feely but not to forward as if to say "I love you" but maybe giving subtle hints as in letting my butt or stroking my back
Patting*
okay. anything you really really want to include (or exclude?)
Nope I'm fine with anything you are
And I don't think we need to include anything else
okay
You want to start if off given that you have the scene idea
My name will be Kira btw I'll just call you sir or mister
Sure
*she waits behind her best friend looking nervous to meet her parents as she watches the door open and catches an eye on her father, she gets shy and looks behind her making sure the smell and bulge isn't noticeable* h-hi sir *she blushes and walks past*
*I am immediately taken by you... your appearance... your shyness.... your apparently hiding your ass*. "Well hello..... I don't think we have met before, have we? Kirstin (my daughter) don't be rude.... introduce us"
*she shuffles behind Kirstin and mumbles* hi.. i-im Kira *she figured it would be easier to Introduce herself*
*Kristin rolls her eyes and shrugs you off and goes into the bathroom and closes the door... leaving you without cover* . "Hello Kira.... Why so shy? I promise I don't bite *I wink, but not in a creepy way*
*she turns away whe. She realises she's blushing again and makes a face if strain as if trying to push something out* mmh c-cause...uhm
*I step forward and gently place my hand on your back in a fatherly fashion* . "Kira you don't look like you feel well... come sit in my office" *I guide you into my office.... looking at the bulge in the back of your skirt causing the bulge in the front of my pants to grow.
"Here have a seat" I offer you a very plush chair and smile . "You really don't look well" I prompt
B-but I ... *She blushes again this time not even attempting to hide it as she sits down she hears a few crackles and crinkles she blushed harder and pushes making a face if strain again* s-sir where is your bathroom?
"Kristin is using it... " I pause looking down at you.... "Kira... is there something you want to tell me?"
N-no! Sorry I just need the bathro- mmh -om that's all *she smiles and stands up realising a noticeable brown patch on the chair cushions as she sits back down real quick* y-you know what nevermind I don't need the toilet
(from the hallway) "Dad I need to go pickup someone from the mall... is Kira okay staying here?" *I look at you with an amused stare as if to say.... 'are you going to go and let me see the brown patch...?'* . my pants growing tight as the sight of the cute little story unfolding in front of me
*she looks at him confused but she shouts to the hallway * yea I'm fine staying Kris!,
*she gets up not realising the brown patch on her skirt was even more visible as she bent over and flipped the cushion around so it wasn't noticable*
"umm... Kira..... " *I ask... in an amused tone* "You do realize that the stain isn't only on the cushion.... right?"
*she stands up straight suddenly holding her hand on her butt* w-what stain...?
*Looking in your eyes I walk straight over to you... looking down at you by the time I get there... I grab the hem of your skirt and pull it up so that you can see the brown clearly on the red... also your diaper (what kind)* . "This one silly girl... and the matching one on my cushion..... I know you are wearing a diaper *I pat it gently*... a very full diaper.... how old are you?" I ask, not in a mad or demeaning way... but in a very curious way
(medium sized adult diapers any kind) *she blushes and starts crying but not in a sad way in s more furious way as she hugs him tight only reaching to his chest she buries her face in and mumbles* 13...
*I ebrace you tightly* . "It is okay Kira.... 13 and still in diapers.... but you know you need to you the bathroom..... Interesting"
*whispering in your ear now... still embracing you* "can I tell you a secret?"
Y-yea.. *she looks up at him wiping her tears*
*helps wipe tears with thumb* "I think it is really cute when girls are still in diapers"
Then why isn't Kris in diapers...couldn't you make her wear themmm- *rethinking what she said she thought it sounded weird and creepy immediately regretting what she had said* I'm sorry I didn't mean it to come across like that *she really needed a change as a faint hissing noise came from her diaper and she blushed*
*holding you this close you feel my cock twitch as you wet* . "Well... I don't want to feel the way about my daughter as I feel for you.... and don't be embarrassed.... why do you wear?"
Well earlier I asked where the bathroom was so I could change but I don't actually know how to use a toilet, I've been potty trained but only with one of those plastic ones and never learned how to use a big one...I also feel unsafe and it's scary when I go near one as j don't know what to do with the metal thingy or the water inside
"oh babygirl.... why have you never been potty trained?" *I as... worrying about abuse*
O-oh uh..*she sighs knowing she had already told him about the diapers so why not about her parents* well..my family kinda..don't wanna... acknowledge my existence? *She giggles nervously trying to make it as a joke*
"oh babygirl....." I hold you close, starting to feel bad about starting to hit on you. "It sounds like you need someone to take care of you"
*she suddenly got an idea* c-could I come and live with you and Kris? *She said excitedly as she looked up with a huge smile on her face*
*emotions rush through me* . "I... I am not sure that is the best idea Kris...... I am not sure I could...." *I trail off... looking at the cute little diapered 13yo in front of me
*she looks disappointed as she says sadly* okay.. *she walks off into the hall to find the bathroom*
"hey hey hey" . I catch up with you.... "It is just that.... I am really attracted to you Kira... and I shouldn't be... you are 13 and I don't think I could be good"
*she blushes but fights it away* I've just met you y'know? *She crouches next to her bag and looks for the diapers* where are they? Fuck..where are they!?
*she remembers she forgot to pack them as she looked dispointed in herself as she knew she had no change of clothes or diapers now*
*she hears the front door open as Kris comes in*
(not sure where you are going with this)
(oof sorry just gonna roll with it alright?*
((Okay I will will trust you)
"Hey Kristin.... did you get your errand ran?" i ask in a disinterested way
Kristen: yea I have to get the diap- uh...groceries upstairs real quick I'll be down in a minute...and why does it smell like a pig sti
her slip up was not missed by me.... "I had mexican for lunch" I explain away after seeing the terror on your face
As she disappears upstairs.... I look at you . "Why doe smy daughter have diapers?"
Probably becauseeee her friend dared her to buy them? Or she might be using them to get boys into that online I mean that's worst case scenario but I'm not sure what else
"Oh you dared her to buy them?" I ask... half interested / half irritated. "If you want me to let you change into a clean one you will tell me why"
W-what n-noo I didn't I'm just uh guessing! I swear!
"oh I bet all the 13 year old girls are trying diapers aren't they?" I ask in mock parental agitation....
"Are you telling me that the one sexy 13yo girl who wears and uses diapers isn't the one who dared her to buy them?" (i don't notice my sexy slip)
S-sexy? *She blushed and shook her head* no I didn't
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pharaohsparklefists · 5 years
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IT’S EPISODE 114 (part 1) AND IT’S TIME FOR .... monkey shenanigans I guess!
Jounouchi has an amazing beside manner.
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I mean can you imagine your friend breaking tragic news to you while holding you upside down?? 
But don’t worry, they figure out how to fix him! If by “fix” you mean...
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UNINTENDED HELICOPTERING
Further shenanigans follow, it was a touch exhausting, zany antics were had, faces were pulled, shrieks were emitted, buttons were pushed, one of the buttons was an angry red colour and Yugi IMMEDIATELY pushed that one and it put Honda in Emergency Mode (Iimaagensii modo! Iimaagensii modo!) and Emergency Robot Monkey Honda leads them to KaibaLand and into a corridor before turning around abruptly and...
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And I was all like, oh come on, like one small robot can stop them this is ridiculous if they expect me to believe they can’t just run past--
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oh.
Well then.
They DO just run past.
While looking DIRECTLY AT THE CAMERA like they’re challenging me to call their bullshit. AND I WILL.
Anyway, further along in the corridor, Kaiba has presumably gotten a trademark Weird Boner(tm) at the sight of the KAIBACORP EXCLUSIVE BLUE EYES WHITE DRAGON TRAIN
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you know. sometimes. things that are shaped like a dragon. are worse.
#fightmeKaiba
Elsewhere, Noah is really amping up that creepy borderline incest vibe and it’s weeeeeird and Mokuba doesn’t remember who Seto is so when he sees him on the screen he asks Noah who he is and says...
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And this is meant to be a sad and creepy moment but I got distracted because NO HE DOESN’T ffs they look kinda similar at the same age (but still very distinguisable) but now they just, like, have a similar haircut?? No 16-going-on-28 year old looks like a 14-going-on-8 year old ghost okay thanks.
Noah leaves Mokuba and arrives at the chosen stage to face Kaiba. What chosen stage?
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LAVA STAGE and this is your unfriendly non-neighbourhood geologist here to tell you that this setup is UNSAFE and HIGHLY IMPLAUSIBLE but we’ll let it slide on the basis of “Virtual World  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ “ and move on.
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OKAY NOPE. NO. NOT MOVING ON. YOU ARE NOT STANDING ON THE EARTH BEFORE IT WAS FUCKING BORN YOU LITTLE DIPSHIT BECAUSE IT WAS A ROTATING CLOUD OF SPACE DUST BEFORE IT WAS BORN AND YOU COULD DO THAT IN YOUR VIRTUAL FUCKING WORLD BUT YOU HAVEN’T SOOOOO..........................
Anyway then Noah monologues for a while. He basically leads with this...
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And I would have more sympathy for this position if I couldn’t see the inevitable fucking card game bearing down the track right towards us, like a huge and ugly and misshapen and ill-conceived dragon-themed train...
But before we get to that, Noah regales us with thrilling tales of his very very weird childhood.
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“We’ve decided on maid-themed harem anime lifestyle for our son.”
I say “our” son and there is that woman holding his photo in the footage of his funeral, and Noah says “adopted by the Kaibas” talking about Seto and Mokuba, but WHERE IS NOAH’S MOTHER?? Everything’s just “father” this and “father” that. For example....
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“He also invested in a full-size university lecture theatre to be installed in our house, which was weird. In order to make him feel like he hadn’t wasted his money, I sat as far away from the front of the classroom as possible. Shot my eyesight but it was worth it.”
He also learned a full range of other skills, although when pressed to name them, he came up with music (violin apparently) and “sports” (horseriding) and that was it. This well-rounded education was supposed to raise him to a suitable level to inherit control of a company...
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Yeah sure, whole fucking country, one company, really similar vibe.
I do think there could be an interesting exploration here between Atem’s destiny to be raised to literal kingship and Gozaburo’s attempts to engineer the perfect education to create a powerful heir, but instead of that we gotta make room for cardgames so moving swiftly along...
like the car that hit and fatally wounded Noah...
“No! He was on his way to the optometrist! This never would’ve happened if his eyes hadn’t been so tired and strained!”
He’s rushed to KAIBA HOSPITAL like what IS this company  
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“Uh do you mean ... not dead?”
“YOU HEARD ME”
Instead of not-dead, they go full weird-anime-stasis-tank scene. Gozaburo drags up a military AI he happened to have lying around...
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Yep perfectly normal thing to do.
In case you’re not getting the SCARY SCI FI vibe, the pathetic fallacy chooses this moment to lob a lightning bolt at the building
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“he LIVESSSS hahahaha”
spoiler: he does not.
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Text
Liza Waters Reports: The Mining Industry
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Today is going to be something a little different.  Today is going to be about a rampant problem that existed in Pre-War Appalachia, and I finally had the opportunity to really dig in to.  The Hornwrights, and the Garrahans. 
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As you may know, I grew up just outside of Grafton. Nice little house, had my own bedroom, lots of friends, you know, the ‘American Dream’ kind of life. As you can probably guess, my parents both worked in the mining industry. Mom worked as an administrator for the Hornwrigths at their main office, while dad worked down in the mines.  It wasn’t by any means unusual, and I would dare to say that almost everybody around Grafton worked in the mining industry. You take what jobs are around, and plentiful, right?  I didn’t see dad very much, he worked shifts longer than I was allowed to be awake for, and mom always came home exhausted. They both put in decades worth of their lives to the Hornwrights. I wouldn’t say either loved their job, but they took it seriously, and did good jobs.  And then Ballot Measure 6 happened.  Ballot Measure 6 was introduced in 2074, and proposed replacing all human workers with machine counterparts. Basically, they wanted to automate the mining industry.  Both Hornwright and Garrahan claimed that by automating the industry they would be ‘saving the hard work for the machines’. Basically trying to tout that their employees would no longer have to work long hours, under unsafe conditions, but still reap all the benefits of their careers.  That’s what they wanted people to believe, and hell, maybe some people believed it. 
Then they started to lay off people.  First it was people that were recently hired. There was no point in training new employees if they were just going to get replaced a couple months down the line. Makes sense, I guess.  Then they started to lay off miners that had dedicated their lives to their jobs. After 22 years of working in the mines, literally working dawn until dusk, my father was let go. In the letter he was given, they claimed that his position was ‘obsolete’, and he was no longer needed. 22 years of his life, and suddenly he was unemployed, with little to no skills to apply to another career.  At least mom still had her job, so we had some income still.  Money was always tight, but she managed to put food on the table, and a gift or two for my birthday.  Seven months after my dad was laid off, mom received a letter in the mail telling her not to return to work on Monday. Her position had been scrapped, and she was let off with two days notice.  That was a dark time for our family, and ultimately when I decided to leave home. 
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Now, you may be wondering why I’m writing about this now. As far as I’m aware the Hornwrigths and the Garrahans are long dead. Or, they escaped to some pristine, million dollar bunker, where they continue to hide out today. Point is, they’re not around anymore.  I took a little trip down in to the Ash Heap the other day. I’m planning on doing an article on Mole Miners, and figured that would be the best area to observe some. Now, from the Forest, if you look south, you can see three large buildings along the horizon. I never really thought much about them. I thought they would be some obscene headquarters, or really just some truly ugly modern art.  Well, turns out, those giant buildings were the homes to the Garrahans, and the Hornwrights. I had to do a little digging, but managed to find access cards to both, and took a little tour through the mining tycoons old mansions. 
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It’s truly disgusting. While thousands of people lost their careers, because these families wanted to save a fucking buck, they literally lived in the heavens to look down at us all. 
My father had rampant health problems from breathing in all of the ash from the mines, and he had to fight tooth and nail to get it covered with health insurance. My mother had to work 60 hour weeks, most weeks, because they were barely paying her enough to live off of. They took advantage of my family, and I’m sure thousands of other families, all so they could live in their mansions. 
There was a saying in Pre-War America: “Eat the rich”; which basically meant if the poor don’t have enough to eat, they’ll eat the rich. With food as scarce as it can be these days, if some non-irradiated meat decide to wander out of their bunker, I can guarantee they’d be cooking on the fire by dinner. 
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hk-stain · 5 years
Text
Serendipity
anonymous
Recent events in Japan had seen a rise in villainous acts. Searching for his target, he spotted a woman... a hero defeating a known member of the Chess Sets. He knew of Banshee. Her abilities and their cost. She looked extremely distraught and nervous. It was not his place to interfere but she was a hero and admired her. Patting his pockets, he had an idea. From the rooftop above her, he dropped a box of ammo, tied shut with a red bow made from cloth torn from his costume. (Valentine❤️-SV)
profanehero Banshee was distraught and for good reason. Bullets were her life-blood in combat situations. Her rifle, Broomstick, worked as everything from a quarter-staff, a club, a mode of transportation… And of course- Broomstick was also a gun.
A gun that gave her the ability to stave off the use of her quirk.
Unless she was in a fight with another gun-slinger.
Alloy had apparently responded accordingly by bringing on more long-ranged Pawns. Ones that were probably more familiar and less unwilling to maim and kill.
At this point, even if she did use her quirk- she was at a huge disadvantage. One well-placed bullet and no amount of tears or depression would ever bring her back.
She thought back to her mentor- caught in the cross-fire meant for her just months ago. Perhaps this was Karma’s way of telling her she was past her due-date…
She shook her head, trying not to cry and panic. Katherine needed to-… No. Banshee needed to find a way out of this. For her son, for her two other mentors- but…. Damn she didn’t even have bullets and-
And then it hit her.
“GA-WHAT THE HELL?!” she asked, rolling away and behind better cover- ready to fight and strangle her way away from the ambush… Only to be met with what she needed. Literally wrapped up in a little bow (sort of) for her to use.
No time to look a gift-horse in the mouth. She took the ammunition box. Small as it was; she could probably lay down surpressive fire- find a way to get to a better vantage point. Another shot and the half-destroyed wall above her rained a small cloud of drywall… It was now or never.
She loaded the bullets and pulled her coat closer over her face. This should keep her relatively safe… Not uninjured, but safer than she was before as she darted to the next spot- taking a pot-shot towards the location of the enemy sniper and darted away- seeking refuge underneath a new set of rubble.
What were Numb’s rules about using a gun?
“Never aim a gun at someone unless you’re doin’ one of two things; intentin’ to maim them permanently, or kill them.”
So she couldn’t do that. He was needed for questioning. Banshee wracked her brain and then thought of something else. Something she had learned all on her own from her elective class.
“… Building materials when damaged are more likely to become unsafe…” she said to herself as she cocked and loaded Broomstick- a bit of newfound resolve blooming in her chest as Banshee steeled herself once more and rolled out into the open– this time; shooting the flooring above her sniper enemy.
And it worked.
A couch, some insulation and a good section of floor fell down on top of her enemy as she stood and dusted herself off…
She made a glance down to the strip of red she held on her hand, immediately wondering who she knew who wore red and carried ammunition in Japan of all places.
But she wouldn’t deny the press the luxury of seeing her neck covered with the red strip of fabric as she brought in the newest pawn for questioning.
anonymous
Despite trying to focus on his mission, he kept finding himself thinking about Banshee. Maybe it was her avoid the press while wearing the ribbon he made or that as he read the activity reports he was impressed by the way she handled herself. No, it was what he saw earlier that day at the park. Wanting to show his admiration, he sent her a letter. ✉️ There are many ways to be a hero. To be a Mother is the hardest. Please accept the enclosed Yen with my respect ~ Red Valentine  ❤️ (¥50,000)  
profanehero
“Red… Valentine?” She asked aloud once she found the package in her mailbox.
Now, this was when the hero left the letter on the table and stepped far back.
There were a handful of people she knew who had red in their costume. A few of them she’d even like to receive Valentine’s gifts from, but she expected they’d approach her after some time.
But “Red Valentine” knew several things about her and she knew next to nothing of him (or her {or them}). That was the scary part.
He knew about Hiroki, he probably gave her ammo… And he knew her address and apartment number.
Banshee took a notebook from her class and began listing out things he seemingly knew.
“… Okay, maybe a coworker? Vlad king or Snipe?”
profanehero
((Katherine high-key has a corkboard in her bedroom and has been staring at it trying to figure out who this Valentine’s guest is and if they’re a hero, or a villain.))
(Sexy Situation Meme)
anonymous
Slumber - One muse has a sex dream about the other ( Valentine❤️) I know we are not there yet if ever but let's see. Who will she imagine or will she not be able to see the face?
profanehero
((I…. Okay. There is a reason why Banshee is the “Profane” hero. I’ll just leave it at that.))
Katherine sits back and stares at the cork-board with a grumble lines of various colored yarns are strewn about connected to different post-it notes of various neon colors.
She sighs and scratches her hairline. This little foray was beginning to become stressful.
The last time she had been asked out; she had been stalked and cased by a criminal leader. Deep down, Katherine wanted to be happy someone was looking out for her, but her mind was sending her red flags left and right.
There was someone in Japan that had given her a great sum of money for being a parent; there was someone in Japan that had given her bullets. They may even be the same person. At best; it meant someone she knew was looking out for her…
At worst…
… She checks the lock on her windows and her front door one more time before collapsing down on her bed… Just to be sure. A simple note should not have sent her into feeling so preyed upon. The world was filled with kind, brave people who would offer her assistance in any way possible.
Katherine sighs and pulls the lamp-chord and closes her eyes, thinking of someone who maybe, just maybe… Genuinely didn’t want to hurt or use her.
… Maybe someone with her style of humor… Someone who got what she was going through…
Maybe.
Banshee ambles, holding her side as she keeps her free arm around the person– the man– who is helping her into the dark, abandoned hospital. Katherine’s throat is parched; thick dust in the air making it uncomfortable to breathe as her joints and side protest with every small movement.
He’s got an arm around her- he’s panting, but he trudges forward anyway. His other hand holds up a flash-light that grazes an upright gurney. He says nothing as he fixes his light on it again. Their destination is quietly agreed upon- for Katherine is already releasing him when they approach.
“You okay?” he asks in a nondescript voice as she sheds her heavy coat.
The near sixty-pound set of body-armor falls to the floor with a thud as she turns around to sit down. Her injuries feel warm; but not wet. At least not wet enough for her to feel the squelching of an open wound against her rubber-like costume.
“Am I?” she asks as he puts his flashlight on the shoulder of his utility vest. Moments later he descends on her top, unlatching the metal clasps just underneath the edge of the black stripe to her front and unzipping what remained.
After a groan it feels like she can breathe again. Blood or not; her costume kept function over comfort.
She notices just how dirt-ridden he is, too as his warm hands touch her sweaty side, prodding her ribcage with worn fingers. No blood, but there would be bruises forming… At least nothing broke the skin. Not that she could tell anyway.
Her partner diligently presses his fingers along her rib cage, first going up the front, and then down the side before… “AH!”
“Right there?” he asks, pressing again on the same spot as before- although not as hard it still hurts enough for Banshee to instinctively jump away from the hands that seem to explore her with such care. “That’s going to hurt like shit in a few hours, Jesus Christ…”
Her partner takes a step back and looks down at the blue coat at his feet.
“Remind me to thank whoever it was that made that. Four automatic bullets to the side and you aren’t even unconscious? No wonder you’re so careless.”
Katherine scowls at him and his bright-ass flashlight. “Says the man who-” but before she finishes the statement he reaches down to his leg and shoves a canteen into her naked chest.
“It’s water. It’ll help… At least you can stay hydrated.”
She gives him a wary look before taking the canister with one hand, closing herself off with the other. Her current state of nakedness had only been out of necessity, but she wasn’t exactly eager to sit tits-out in a run-down, shoddy hospital…
Not while they were still technically fighting.
Her partner still gives her that courtesy not to be too voyeuristic and turns his full body to point his light at various places in the hallway- keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
“We should go soon,” she informs him before unceremoniously chugging the bland liquid- admittedly though she can’t get enough of it. Water pours down her chin and neck and Katherine feels almost human again. “They’ll leave us for dead if we stay here.”
She hears his heel turn and blocks the flashlight with the hand holding the canteen.
“No they won’t. You’re too valuable… They loose you and the UN looses their precious reformation program.”
He stops though, for a moment and there is nothing said.
“… You having fun over there?” he asks, crossing his arms as his voice changes in tone slightly. No longer stern and borderline callous but teasing.
“Fuck off,” she says wiping her chin off with the back of her free arm. “I was thirsty.” He goes silent and she can practically feel his grin from beyond the high-beam on his vest. “And that’s not a statement for you to enjoy.”
“Little things,” he points out, turning off his flashlight.
For a moment she only hears his footsteps coming towards her, but she’s not adjusted to the near pitch blackness, but she definitely feels his hands brush up against her shoulders.
“Get comfy, Banshee. It may be a while before they find us.”
Despite all the smug her partner was sending her way he had made two very good points. They did need her; need her enough that they’d certainly send a search party to find her here… And if you wanted to get found the last thing you wanted to do was leave where you were. It may take hours with the fighting outside, but they’d find her… That or someone else would find them… It was better to just relax.
Then she feels his lips on her neck, pushing against the capture device around her neck as he took his sweet time drawing out a squeak of protest. “Mm… I’m glad you’re okay.”
In the dark she presses against his forehead and tries to look him in the eye– or where his eyes would be. “HERE? Seriously?” she asks. “We could get caught!” Either by their superiors or by the enemy… She had literally no idea which one was worse.
“You see a better way?” he asks- he sounds irritated as he presses his forehead against hers. “I just saw you get shot. By something that kills people- and you got the fuck back up again.”
Her brow crinkles as he places a reverent, gentle kiss on her lips. Right now she’s the only thing on his mind but he’s not being unwantedly forceful. He’d stop if Katherine told him no.
And there are about a-thousand-and-one reasons to say no.
“I risk my life every day,” she goads as she kisses him back. He takes this as an invitation to move a leg between hers and actually put his arms around her. It illicits a perhaps not entirely intentional groan from the injured woman. “What makes today any different?…” she asks and he stops for a moment.
Just stops.
Then like a hound he bites down on her shoulder, making her moan as he gingerly licks the injury he caused. Pain be damned, though- that hurt.
“I don’t like how they look at you,” he mutters.as his hands slide around to her front. At this point there are no holds barred- he plays dirty and presses his full palm onto her bruise, pressing into the knot with his thumb as she sees stars and shivers. “The suits can’t take their eyes off you and it drives me crazy.”
Ah… So that explains why he’s not so upset by the prospect of being caught or heard. Still, the prospect of him being jealous is… Entertaining, to say the least.
“Oh?” she asks leaning back on both of her hands. “Go on…” she says. Now she’s the one sounding coy. “It sounds like you need to get this off your chest.”
His free hand palms at one of her breasts, letting her feel the full texture of his fingerprints as they stare each other down in the dark.
“Hardy-har…” he returns dryly as all pretenses are dropped. “I see them sizing you up… Staring at your ass when you’re not wearing your coat… Watching your cleavage when you cross your arms…” But he goes on, rubbing his crotch not so subtly against the meat of her thigh as he leans into her. “When you lean over a desk to type something… When you bend down to pick something up in front of them-” he stutters and pulls her closer to the edge of the worn out hospital bed. “Oh fuck me…” he says, tilting his head back, silence filling the air as they both come to terms with the fact that; yes. Here.
He takes a deep breath before Katherine can think of anything witty or meaningful to say and backs off, tearing off his jacket and tossing it behind her.
“Lay back,” he instructs and she’s eager to comply, she takes a moment setting out the inside of his jacket behind her as she hears the familiar sound of fumbling with his belt buckle. A few seconds later the tinkering stops and he’s pulling down her leggings and pushing up her utility belts and pauses. “… Condom.”
She swore to god.
“We’re having sex in a dirty hospital and you want to use protection?” she asks. “Motherfucker, there is probably more polio here than there was in Alaska before Balto, okay?… I’m on the pill, just…” She feels her panties getting pushed aside by a few fingers, jumping the gun when a slick tongue makes it’s way across her womanhood and a smile graces the man who made her shiver and lay all the way down.
“Damn, you’re already wet,” he comments huskily as she hears him stand. “Didn’t take much to convince you. Maybe mission sex should be a thing…” he utters as he slides his length between her folds and pushes her knees apart.
“Just be jealous more often…” she mutters. “Or tell me how much I actually mean to you, you a-ah~”
A slow thrust shuts her up as he burries himself inside her. “Yeah, yeah. I’m an asshole.” He punctuates the loving insult with another thrust. “But fuck them if they think I don’t see.”
“Fuck them~” she sighs, rolling her hips against him.
“Hah…” she can feel him grinning. “You’re really enjoying this.”
He certainly wasn’t wrong. She’s panting and desperately wishes that they had been in a more private place than where they were. Gosh the things she could scream… He liked her screaming.
“Also;” he says. “Really like your new lipstick… But wear it on your off days~” He punctuates his please with another particularly hard thrust.
She lets out a huff of amusement. “Make me orgasm more often and I’ll see what I can do~”’
Elation. How long had it been since they had been on such an equal romantic field. How long had Banshee felt like she was past her prime? Too long, but it didn’t matter now.
Their pacing sped up as more quiet, ever-so-loving swear words graced each other’s mouths.
“You dirty bitch~”
“Filthy bastard~”
“Tease~”
“Douchebag~”
Each insult marked with a double-meaning as their pace got rougher and rougher; a string of litany that showed how close they were to each other. The words meant something- like bookmarks in their life together. The time Katherine had surprised him with a new bra from overseas, that time he couldn’t stop sending her dirty texts at one of her meetings…. The time she returned the favor… The time he chased away the nice delivery man because he could.
Finally words could do it no justice. Their swears became howls of devotion and admiration as they lost the ability to form coherent words. Her partner’s head found it’s home in the crook of her neck while she held onto his shoulders, blinded only by the immense joy they felt and not the fact it was still dark as hell in this hallway.
Then just as quickly as it had gotten amazing- he pulled out. A smattering of white Katherine couldn’t entirely see splattered across her middle.
Both of them were shaking for a good few moments before either of them could even process what to do next.
“You okay?” comes her partner’s voice in a low rumble as he bends down and kisses her shoulder again- gently this time.
Still without words, Banshee gives him a nod, trying to re-position herself to a better sitting stance but coming short when a hand presses to her chest.
“No. Take a breather…” he says gently as he lays something across her chest and fits her… Everything else back into place. “Shit…” he utters as if he’s looking around for the first time. “I see what you mean,” he says. “Place looks like it could fall apart at any moment now.”
Almost as if on cue the building shakes and she feels the gurney tip towards him. Katherine braces for an impact-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And wakes up to feel her blanket being tugged. Two large eyes are poking over the edge of her mattress as Hiroki continues to wiggle his way up to his mother… his mother who is laying on her side and is very confused about what she just experienced.
Was…
Was that a premonition? A hope?
“Bwahhhhh….?” Hiroki asks her. “Diggy-dig?”
Katherine sat up and pulled Hiroki onto the bed, happy he had decided to see her first before wandering off to find more sugar… The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the Sugar incident.
anonymous
Did Banshee turn over the money to get superiors or did she keep it? If she kept it what did she do with it? I hope you don’t mind the daily interaction. I know we were only expected to exchange gifts on Valentine’s Day but I instantly liked your oc and wanted to know more. I am enjoying this greatly. If you wish less interaction I will gladly respect your preference. Just let me know. ( Valentine❤️)
profanehero
((ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I LOVE IT!))
Despite her apprehension with even having the money; Banshee kept it… Although she didn’t spend it. The money stayed in it’s envelope along with the note.
She had thought she was getting closer, but now… She wasn’t so sure.
Especially when Rally and Joint showed up at her door looking rather scared by how much she had been thinking about it. For once, Rally seemed to take Katherine’s side on things, furrowing his brow and finding little humor in this at all.
But Joint? The ex CIA agent? The designated Horseman of Famine? He was positively smitten with the work she had put into this.
“Statistically speaking red is a primary color that is popular among heroes, especially public ones. It’s flashy, and is linked to positive thinking. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if it belongs to a hero,” he confirms, almost proud of the cork-board of paranoia. “The fact that it is torn indicates it’s something they wear.” He takes a moment to tug on it, examining the coarseness of the fabric. “Certainly not your Cloak, now, is it?”
Rally is sitting down on the floor with Hiroki bouncing happily on his knee. He’s contemplating stepping in, but lets his husband continue on.
“And I LOVE the use of the purple thread. I love how it points to all villains. Good girl, crossing your t’s and dotting all of your i’s.”
“Thanks, Joint…” she said smiling a little easier with the compliments and reassurances her teammate and mentor gave. “So… I shouldn’t be too worried?”
Joint laughs. “Oh, I never said that.” He smirks and clicks his tongue when Katherine’s face falls. “Oh, Curs-… Banshee… You didn’t think I’d just build you up, did you?” he asks, handing over the torn fabric.
“Red is also a popular color for villains. Since Villains often are not supported well off financially; they wear whatever they can get that suits their purposes and fits their budget.”
“Something that’s cheap and tears easily…” her heart sinks and a knot forms in her stomach. “… They’re a villain, aren’t they?”
“Looks like it…” Rally says, giving Joint an over-the-sunglasses glare.
Joint merely shrugs. “ Now now. It’s entirely probable it belongs to a hero as well. Companies often sponsor heroes here in Japan, it may be possible their costume was made to be replaced.”
But Katherine couldn’t… She couldn’t do it again.
She had just been saved from Alloy. Numb had just died from Alloy– what was next? Her life? Hiroki’s?
“Luckily for you, we’re here,” Joint said, standing. “Hero or villain, it seems you have a bit of an admirer!”
“More like stalker.”
“Details, honey… Anyway;” Joint stands, posing with a hand on his hip. “They best way to lead out either is to jazz up routine! I bet you anything; they started keeping a closer eye on you since you started wearing that red scarf.”
Katherine sighed and raised her head to look at him. “So… What’s the plan?”
“You’re going to set a trap…” Rally sighs as he hears the next few sentences.
“Let’s go get some shoes~!”
anonymous
The more he tried to not think of her, the more she was in his mind. He wasn’t ready to meet face to face. Not yet.
profanehero
((Hello. Yes. I can hear your theme-song from here.))
((Also, whoever this is; you’re gunna have Alloy come after you.))
anonymous
The path to the snow festival was lit up as bright as day. Hundreds of lanterns hung from the trees. He came to see the snow sculptures and grab some food. It was nice. Normal. Part of the crowd. Long coat, scarf and hat, no one would recognize him. Which was good because there she was. Blond hair like sunlight. Smiling and laughing with her son as she pointed at the lights overhead. Their eyes met. Held. Inclining his head in respect as he passed. A bouquet of roses in her bag. ~❤️
profanehero
((But what did the banshee SEE?!))((Lol, also, I’m not sure if you saw nonny, but I proposed an idea where I could post a picture of a would-be ship child… And you could tell me how wrong I am.))
((Okay. I’m lying. I’ve been trying to find out for days who you are.))
Katherine had gotten out of the house with Hiroki. She needed to get put with Hiroki and leave the bullets and chocolate and cork board behind.
So once Hiroki was safely pulled into his squishy soft baby parka and vaguely resembled frosty the snowman, they took off.
There was hardly any snow, but it didn’t matter when Katherine discovered there was a recent viewing for the snow festival. She had largely avoided it because of work… But now it was a good thing. Crowded, lots of stalls, lots of light.
She’d feel safe.
Hiroki made a jeer of excitement in response to some of the lanterns, clapping his hands with joy as a few of them changed colors.
“Ohhh, who’s a happy squeaky baby?~” she crooked, earning a happy little wiggle from her son in her hands. “Whose a squeaky-squeaky squeaker?”
“Bah!” Hiroki threw up his falsely padded arms in sheer delight.
“That’s right!” She cheered him on. “You’re a squeaky squea-…”
She felt eyes staring at her.
“…ker…”
She looked up, then up the path. Someone stood bundled up very tightly; perhaps someone simply a little older. He seemed to walk with a slouch of some sort, if she had not been mistaken and took heavy steps as he walked by.
Someone had been staring.
He gave her a nod of respect and she just…
Watched him leave, unsure if she had even truly seen him to begin with… But she could feel her heart pound with anxiety she had tried to escape.
“Let’s go up the path, Hiroki,” she said, bending down to get her bag… When she picked it up the sound of paper crumbling under her knuckles shocked her entirely.
“… Let’s… Let’s go home, actually.”
anonymous
A few days later a large package is delivered to her work. Inside are two beautifully wrapped boxes. The larger gift was a wood Jewelry box. The design is a cherry tree branch covered in blossoms. The other a pull toy made to look like a spider, its legs moved. Both are hand carved and polished. “Moushiwake gozaimasen deshita. It was inexcusable for me to have frightened you. Our meeting was purely by chance. I saw the opportunity to give you joy but was poorly executed. Forgive me ~Red (❤️
profanehero
Katherine sat in UA mostly alone in the staff-center. All packages were thoroughly examined before they even got past the front gate… So Banshee hadn’t been too… Too worried about opening it… Even upon seeing the letter and who it was from.
She mostly just felt tired.
It appeared this person didn’t want any ill harm to come to her or Hiroki… But even so, this was… A fairly voyeuristic sort of affection. She knew nothing about him… Hell, she didn’t even have a good way of contacting this person… And yet, this person knew of the difference between the Profane Hero and the person beneath her.
She cried.
She cried knowing this was probably a villain. Knowing this villain knew more about her than even the people she wanted to know more about her.
She cried because she was just a product to this person.
Something to ogle, and admire from afar. Not someone to be approached or spoken to like a human being… Even… Even Alloy did that. EVEN the manipulative monster who wanted her to be his human meat-puppet for his extremist ideals spoke to her as a person.
She swallowed and grabbed a new notepad.
Whomever this was saw her less as a hero, and more as a mother. Someone who deserved to have nice things simply because of her matronly status… Someone who deserved nice things like jewelry, and who shouldn’t have to worry about providing for her own child… A more… “Classical” sort of stalker.
But why?…
She took a deep breath once more, took a moment to pick up her smartphone from not too far by and held it to her ear.
“… This is United Nations War Hero Banshee. ID code 1257-222-2564.”
“… Hello miss Banshee. What can we help you with?”
“… I need to speak with Alloy.”
anonymous
Listening to the fight a few streets over, he recognized the sound of Banshee’s gun but suddenly it went silent. He felt cold. That last shot didn’t sound right. He found her on the ground huddled around an old woman, the building behind them half destroyed. She was out cold and the old woman was rattled. The medics couldn’t get close with the fight. Scarf secure, he hefted the woman onto his back and Banshee in his arms. Handing them off to the medic. Unaware of the trail of blood ❤️
profanehero
When Katherine woke up she was in the hospital. Not an unfamiliar sight to be seen as a pro hero, but nothing would ever prepare you for seeing the laminated white ceiling after you had been there for hours.
Her throat was dry, and she looked over.
Rally was nodding off and Joint was busy trying not to do the same, but Hiroki was making it difficult, trying to stand or move every once and a while.
When he saw his mother’s eyes open he let out a pleased squeak and held out his three-digited fingers; rousing the two.
“Oh my god,” Rally said, stirring. “You’re up…” he stood, stretching before coming to the bed. “How… Do you feel?”
Katherine blinked and pursed her lips. She thought for a moment.
“In so much pain.”
“Oh. Good. I guess your nerves are working then,” Rally couldn’t help but shrug. “And your humor! That’s great!”
Katherine smiled. “Oh, fuck off,” she said with a giggle as she reached out to touch Hiroki- frowning when she saw her hands were encompassed in bandages. “… What happened?”
Joint held Hiroki towards her while the spiderling came to terms with why his mother’s fingers were all rough and covered in white now.
“Balistics say you were firing inappropriate bullets from Broomstick,” she said. “You misfired.”
Katherine let out a sigh and lowered her hand back to the hospital bed as Hiroki was placed between her and the edge of the bed.
“How… Bad was it?”
Joint shook his head. “Not… Not too bad…” he said, tone growing dark. “But-”
“Kat, that was too close,” Rally said. “You need to stay off the roster for a bit.” It was so strange that this was coming from Rally of all people- but she got it. Joint could tune out his emotions for his job- but had a much harder time considering himself and the emotions of others. Rally? Rally was all feeling- just like her. “This secret-stalker-valentine… Thing… It’s gone on too far. It’s affecting your job.”
Katherine bristled. “I’m fine,” she said. “This… This isn’t getting to me.”
Joint let out a sigh and shook his head. “Katherine, you have a new jewelry box and Hiroki has a new toy… As far as we can tell whoever is doing this isn’t causing any harm on purpose…” he said. “But he is causing harm… And whether or not you’ve been unwilling or just unable; you cannot for sure say who it is.”
Rally turned away, trying very hard to not… Not blurt something out of frustration as Joint reached forward and grabbed her hand.
“Please… For the love of… For the Love of Hiroki. For the love of anything… Please… Just stay low… We can’t… We can’t loose you, too.”
anonymous
Thanks to his nurses talking as they set up to remove the bullet he took, he now knew Banshee was recovering. It was time to leave. Any minute someone would recognize him. Grabbing everything from the tray, he slipped out of the ER. Outside her door, he heard what Joint said. He never meant to put her in danger. Grabbing a nearby chart, he wrote a note and slipped it under her door. "I never wanted to hurt you. You are too important, a true Hero, to be distracted by me. Goodbye. ~ Red" (❤️
profanehero
From outside Rally watched the note slipped under the door but said nothing. He didn’t want the ruin the moment Banshee was fine, and so she deserved a break.
Rally’s heart sank when Banshee noticed. “What’s that?” She asked and he had no choice…
He did read it before handing it over.
“… I can’t believe he just left!” Came the shrill voice of the Nurse from outside. “He took the medicine and ran!”
Joint stood, opening the door.
“Someone missing?!” He asks and Banshee is scrambling to her feet.
She… She could catch him.
She would catch him!
“It was the man who brought in Banshee and the old lady!” The nurse said. “He had a bullet in his shoulder- I…”
“What did he look like?” Banshee asked.
Rally looked at her, then shook his head. “Katherine, you’re grounded, I swear to-”
“I-… I need to know!” She told her mentor. “The last time it happened I… I need to know.”
The Nurse looked between them and swallowed. “I… I…” She swallowed. “He didn’t want to take off his scarf… He was mostly concerned for you, miss Banshee.”
He had every chance to kill her, harm her and yet…
“… I’ll pay for the equipment he stole,” she said. “Please. Let me pay for it.”
Rally and Joint looked to each other then back to the nurse.
“I… I’m not sure…” The nurse stammered.
“Everything will be paid for by the United Nations,” Rally said. “This man saved our team-mate…” For the first time in a long time he cracked a smile. “We can’t be too mad at him, can we?”
“Well… I suppose not…”
“If it would please you…” Joint smiled. “Banshee has been saved by him. Can you trust her in confidence to perhaps identify him?”
Banshee felt her shoulders lift a little.
“W-well, you are… Heroes on duty…”
She’d find him.
She’d find him.
She had to.
anonymous
He needed a place to rest, pull the bullet out and sew himself back up. He was leaving a trail. Keep going. His arm was almost useless. Home was a long way off. Passing a dumpster, he pulled out a notebook and threw it in. Only his aim was off and it bounced off the side. Leaving it there, he moved on. It was poems he wrote and useless sketches. It would be best not to have anything to remind him of her. Spotting a club, he slipped inside and locked himself in a dark, private room. (❤️)
profanehero
((Sorry, man. Thissss is what happens when you flirt with death.))
Katherine had made her way into the surveillance room with Rally and Joint.
“He seemed very scared for you, miss Banshee. He kept saying you had a son and some relatives in town… I hardly believed him.”
Katherine watched the camera with almost utter disbelief.
Joint and Rally merely blinked.
“… Why though?” She asked. “He’s not dumb. He knows what my job entails… I don’t think I would…”
She lowered her head and looked to the nurse. “How bad were his wounds?”
anonymous
"Bad. If he pulls the bullet out himself he could bleed out or even lose the arm if not treated right away. Or he could be fine." On the screen, the man in question did his best to keep his scarf up around his face. He seemed to know where the cameras were and managed to keep his head turned or down so they wouldn't get a good shot of him. While the nurses were gone he wrote something but tossed it in the trash after listening at her door. He wrote another note, left it and was gone. (❤️
profanehero
“He’s very calculated,” Katherine pointed out.
“He’s done this before…” Joint said with a grumble as he crossed his arms. “… And he is out of our jurisdiction.”
Banshee shook her head.
“He’s not out of mine…” She said quietly, then looking to Rally. “I can’t let someone die because they saved me.”
anonymous
To hold you in my arms was everything to me. For that to happen again I would do just about anything you asked of me. I have no right to even speak your name. I saw you on the battlefield, hair like molten gold. Blue fire in your eyes. Goddess of death you hold back. Endanger yourself to protect others. Even those who harm others. I was drawn to you like a moth to the flame. Holding you was also my greatest fear. You were so lifeless. Please be well Goddess or my heart will die with you. ~Red❤️
profanehero
“AUGH!” Joint shrieked in disgust as he pulled the note from the trash can. “Ew. Ew. Ewwww.”
“Honey, it’s just paper trash.”
“In the hospital!” Joint pointed out, still visibly shaken by the ordeal.
“Any. Way…” Banshee said, taking the note and looking it over.
Something uneasy settled in her stomach. They were words of admiration, sure, but… But this didn’t feel like… This didn’t feel like love or attention she deserved.
“… He’s not well. We need to find him.” She sighed. “Set him straight.”
“Agreed, but…” Rally sighed. “Kat, you have skin in the game. I don’t think you should be the one to do this.”
Katherine frowned. “So what? This is just going to go to the police?”
“Oh, no…” Joint interjected. “By all accounts: he saved your life. That makes this an international affair. I can respond accordingly.”
“But you will go home and rest.”
anonymous
He woke to the sound of the lock being jimmied. A strong leap and he was out the open upper window. It wasn't perfect. He should have caught the edge but his arm was useless. The fall didn't hurt too much. But it didn't help. It was a long walk home but he made it to his loft. Flopping down on his mattress, he heard Nana coming up the stairs. The din from the shack city below seemed peaceful. He hoped he didn't bring trouble home to them. "I told you not to get hurt." Nana scolded (❤️)
profanehero
As the door creaked open Joint stepped through cautiously, chanting. “Please not another BJ, not another BJ. Not another-” He peered through one eye as he kept the other shut tightly, and he took a moment to take in the room.
“Oh, thank god,” Joint visibly said- a few more human shades returning to his face as he took a hand-held light device from inside his jacket. He flicked the trouble-some switch and scanned the ground around him.
This was how he had managed to find the blood trail- even after the bleed seemed to vanish and seem less and less. Flecks of blood still made their way to the unknown observer’s shoes, his hand and certainly his arm.
Well, thank goodness the staff seemed to know how often to clean their private VIP section. Sans the obvious blood on the doorknob, the floor and a few occasional flecks of white on the wall he found the trail he had been looking to find.
A pair of tweezers, a stray bullet, some bandages and a huge smattering of dried blood lay on the sofa. It was a crap-shot, but damn if the mess hadn’t remained almost entirely contained… And yet…
“No sign of a victim…” her murmured, glancing to the open window. Photo-florescent lights glinted like the sun outside. It had been a few hours since he had left the Hospital, gathered his gear and made pursuit of a man who- plainly didn’t want to be found.
That was primarily the reason why he was here.
Not for the safety of his new team member. Not to set her mind at ease… There were a thousand ways to make Katherine feel safer in her own home. Pursuing a potentially dangerous stalker; not one of them.
So then why steal all that medical equipment? Why not just leave and go to another hospital if he was too embarrassed to confront Katherine… The answer; the man had something to hide… And Joint was the Alice who was going to travel down this rabbit-hole until the end.
anonymous
Journal~ Maybe if I write this down, I can get her out of my head. I know I am not wanted or needed but I find I cannot stay away. I am drawn to her. I know I should work but she is on my mind. So much so I can't think. I need focus. But there is only this heart-wrenching feeling. She is so beautiful. Hair a golden river. I want to touch it. Is it as soft as I think? Her eyes are the brightest blue. Piercing but there is laughter in them too. Will those eyes ever look on me kindly?❤️
profanehero
Katherine got home, escorted very carefully by a groggy Rally. Hiroki was sleeping like a rock in his car seat. This would have almost felt like a normal return home if not for the very disturbing context.
“Alright,” Rally says to her. “Let's get you and Hiroki to bed,” he said, trying to sound as supportive as possible.
“I…” she sighs. “I haven’t eaten, yet.”
Rally forces a smile and looks around. “You uh… You want me to cook?” he asks, sounding desperate.
Katherine sighs and shakes her head. “Well, I have cereal. The big thing is that I can’t do dishes with bandages on my hand.”
She sees the disbelief in Rally’s face. “I’ll uh… I’ll try cooking,” he says, looking warily to the kitchen. “Can’t be that hard can it?” Oh, this should be fun.
She sighs and extends her hands to the car seat and Rally didn’t fight it. Once she got Hiroki’s seat into their bedroom she started to un-latch him, earning a small whimper of recognition.
“Heyyy squeaker~” she cooed. “You ready to go nap?”
Without any protest at all Hiroki’s face hit his mother’s shoulder when he was picked up, and moments later she was happily being covered gently in a blanket cave. The sound of a pan clattering on the stove stirred her from her thoughts… Y’know what? She didn’t want to know. It was best she just… Get dressed to fall asleep.
Hiroki had fallen asleep willingly, Rally was in the next room… Her stalker had been injured… What had she to fear? As she pulled her nightshirt over her head she gave her neck a good stretch and looked at the cork-board on the side of her room.
… Well, as creepy as the stalking aspect had been she didn’t want… She didn’t want her stalker to die or be permanently crippled because of her. She hadn’t even… Been badly hurt.
No. No, Joint was taking care of this.
With a sigh she reached out a bandaged hand to take down the various pictures, untying certain chords and notes.
She paused, unhooking a few twines of red yarn.
“… It couldn’t have been Vlad King, he’d have told me by now… Same with Snipe, I think.” Would have recognized them.
She thought of the image of the man who had been in the hospital room, thought on how the Nurses described him.
“No, too tall… “she said taking down a photo. “Besides; I could have sworn he never liked me… And not…” she ripped off another. “You. You would have stayed at the Hosptial…”
She kept pairing down and down her possibilities- basically ridding herself of anyone too far outside of his body type.
“… Who are you?”
anonymous
The blood trail leads to an abandoned factory. Around and in the decrepit building was a village of tents and shacks. People went about their lives farming, crafting ect. They eyed Joint suspiciously. All had a disfigurement or monstrous quirk. The dregs of society. A tiny girl crept over to joint. She was filthy but underneath her hair, tail and the fur on her legs and arms were pure white. On her neck, a heavy collar. She tugged on his leg. Blue eyes begged. "Pweeze.. help.. aba?" ❤️
profanehero
Joint had scarcely gotten there and he was already feeling uncomfortable. Washington, where he had grown up, had always left him feeling uneasy because of how Joint had grown up. He hadn’t missed the judgment or the power disparity.
Or the bargaining, or the prying, or the feeling of being less than human.
This took him back.
“Help?” he asked, bending down, trying to keep an eye on things. “… What is it you need help with?” he asks.
Poor thing. She was so small, so young. A twinge of guilt clung to his chest as he thought of the first time Katherine had met Hiroki… She couldn’t have known how bad he had felt for trying to convince her it wouldn’t be the smartest idea to come.
“… Actually,” Joint said. “I’m looking for someone…” he said. “I think he’s hurt.”
anonymous
"Aba! Pweze halp!" she struggled over the words. Wrapping her tail around his arm. People moved for them, but they were shaking their heads. "Where were heroes when... Saving the rich! When will all people matter?" the voices shouted over each other. The little girl hissed at the crowd. “Aba n...n... Halp!" Up in the loft, an old woman, stained with blood blocked the way. She looked Joint in the eye. Your word that you'll not take him, here. He's all that prevents war between them and you ❤️
profanehero 
“I…” Joint
Furrowed his eyebrows and held up his hands. “Look. I’m here to just guarantee my student is safe.”
He swallows and looks around. Must have been popular, this guy. “It’s nearly daybreak. I won’t keep you annnny more than I need to.”
anonymous
The old woman eyed him then moved out of the way. The child clings to his leg, hiding her face as she babbles ba ba ba over & over in a distressed tone. The loft is more barren than the shacks below. Only an old couch & table. His long legs stick out over the end. Shirtless, his shoulder is red and inflamed. Despite the stitches, blood trickles down his arm from the wound. His body is muscular & scarred, his face & hair covered with bandages. Fevered brown eyes watch. "..here to arrest or k.." ❤️
profanehero
“Kill?” Joint asks raising a hand to his chest. “Please. Don’t be gauche. You saved my team-member…” he said, scanning the entirety of the wound. “Provided; you stalked her, but you don’t deserve to die… Maybe a good slap on the wrist for this trouble, but… Maybe not with that shoulder.” It wasn’t a bad job, per say, but for a wound that large and so close to an artery it made sense that any stitch less than perfect could just exacerbate the problem.
He knew it would be bad… He didn’t know it would be…
This bad.
“You’re running on adrenaline,” Joint pointed out, trying to think of the various smatterings of red and viscera. “… You should have stayed in that room…” Joint said. “Saved your blood.”
God, get a grip on yourself, Saul… You’ve been at war. You’ve seen men get up after getting cut open. This shouldn’t be anything.
Joint had wanted to ask questions, but now there… There was nothing more he could do but just… Think of what Patrick would do.
Call Rally. Get them out here. Get a tourniquet. Elevate the wound.
Joint pulled out his phone- his hands were shaking and his free hand covered his mouth. “… Someone cut open his stitching and get… Get something to use as a tourniquet…” he hit one on his speed dial. “… And get… Get a pillow under his shoulder.”
A ghost of Numb’s voice echoed in his mind.
Get Curse out here. I’ve shown her how to take care of gunshots like this.
But was that really… Wise?
“’Yellow?”
“Julian, I need Banshee here,” Joint said.
“… I’m guessing you’re either being threatened or things went south really fast?”
“Things went south…” Joint grumbled. “It’s bad. He needs Numb.”
There came a certain form of communication between the pair of them since they had gotten together. A certain unspoken flow of knowledge. Numb may have been gone, but Banshee was alive. She was the next best thing.
“Where are you? I’ll wake her up and get an uber. Do we need anything?”
Joint looked to the mangled man.
“… Something high-alcohol.”
“The drinking kind or the rubbing kind?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Fireball and stuff it is then.”
anonymous
“Not my in..tention to stalk her... park was... chance... should have left..." he tried to sit up but Nana pushed him down. He growled but stayed down while the old woman went to work on the stitches as ordered. That is until he heard Banshee's name. "hnnnn… no.. don't bring her here... nneeds her rest... I'll be finnn.." he struggled to rise but the old woman wasn't having any of it as she pulled hard to tie the tourniquet. "What now sonny? she asked turning to look at Joint. (❤️)
profanehero
“I-…” Joint looked warily down at the apparently accidental stalker. “I don’t know.”
Moments, after Katherine had gotten herself dressed again, was when the location had been sent; and when Joint soon called her directly.
“Are you on your way?” he asked. He sounded… Shaken.
“Yeah,” Katherine gave him a white lie. “I just… I got in the uber. I’ll be a few minutes.”
Joint continued to talk. “W… What can I do? Are… Is there anything I can do? There’s… There’s so much blood.”
“Uhhhh…” she stopped in her living-room as Rally handed her a first aid kit, looking rather frustrated by this whole ordeal. “Send me pictures,” she said.
“Of him? Kat, he’s covered in bandages and I-”
“No. Of the room, of his wound, I need…” I need to know more about him. “I need to know more about this situation…. I’ll be there in a bit. I’ll hang up and send you texts.”
“God speed Banshee.”
Katherine waited for Joint to hang up before she gave Rally a look of worry. Rally just seemed unsurprised. “Do what you have to do,” he said. “And then… Then come back. I’m not sure I trust him, yet… Make sure Saul stays with you.”
“Okay,” she says as her phone rings. An image made it’s way to her as she walked out into her uber… Instantly she saw a few things that would help.
Don’t elevate the wound like that. Have him sit up reclined. We don’t want him blacking out, but we also don’t want to keep the wound open in exposed air.
Loosen the tourniquet. I’m not there yet.
Wash your hands and put gentle but firm pressure on it.
Joint made a face, looking at the would-be-stalker and cringes. “… We need to get him to sit up slightly. Anyone got more pillows?.. Also.. Um… someone… Press on the wound.”
Joint’s phone rings again, hoping for an eta… What he got was… Less happy.
“… Oh no… Um…” he cringed. “Uh… Did… Did you remove all of the bullet?” he asks. “Did you check?”
(Nickname Meme)
anonymous 
To Banshee's face but only when we are alone, I call her all sorts of nasty names and she gives it right back to me. In front of the kids, it is Honey or Beloved. Sometimes I annoy her with something sappier like My love or My Lady. She pretends to hate it. In my thoughts, she is my Siren. Her sweet voice entranced me and I never got free. Umm... Not that I want to be free of you, Darling! Love of my life. Dearest? I am a dead man, aren't I? (❤️)
profanehero
“Augh, you dick. That makes me sound like a cougar.”
Like it had been intentional… It wasn’t, not at all… But his pursuit had been. She wasn’t an easy person to get along with, but… He stayed all the same. Even when she swore he would have every want to.
anonymous
Rolling her eyes at Joint, she went to do the things needed to be done. He was almost asleep when pain woke him. Nana was pressing down on the wound. Hearing Joint's question he shook his head. "No.. I can.. something.. is still in there." It was a struggle to stay awake. "I.. I never meant.. meant to scare.. her..." his thinking was sluggish and he kept falling asleep only to jerk awake at every sound. "Hnn should clean up.. don't want her to see... she hates me doesn't she.. let me die.." ❤️
profanehero
Joint waited patiently, biting his lip as he soon could hear the sound of running footsteps.
“Just… Try to stay conscious…” He says as soon Banshee- no Katherine on her off duty- comes running in. She says nothing as she skids to the side of the woman at the wound.
“Okay… She says. In here,” she tells them. “I’m here.”
anonymous
'She is so beautiful.' was his first thought when he saw her appear on the stairs. 'I am such a fucking mess. I don't want her to see me like this.' He struggled to sit up but was too weak & Nana was holding him down. He shivered. Why was she here? Shouldn't she be ... home? He couldn't think. If he was going to die, he would die watching her. / Nana looked up at Banshee. "He has gone cold. I'm a pressing but his blood don't wanna stay in. There is a bit left inside. You gonna help him? ❤️
profanehero
“Well, he’s conscious,” she says as she takes his good arm and feels for his pulse. After ten seconds she sets it down. “Should have stayed in the hospital…” She tells them as she re-tightens his tourniquet.
This was… A lot of swelling.
The bullet likely nicked a bone or fractured. She nods to herself. “Okay,” she starts. “I need some alcohol and some clean gloves. Then we need to disinfect the wound and the forceps…” She says to the woman. “Can you help me?”
(Sexy Ask)
anonymous
"Banshee." his voice low, almost a purr. His hand slid into her silky hair, forcing her head to tilt. Slowly he caressed down the length of her neck with his fingertips, watching her shiver. Leaning close, he could feel the heat from her body. Languidly, his lips just barely grazing her skin, his breath breaking against the taut muscles of her neck. When he got to her ear, he played along its curve and gave it a little nip. A promise for later at home. He pulled away. Their chase was on. ❤️
profanehero
Banshee let out an absolutely surprised squeak as she dropped the clipboard in her hands.
“Darlinweareatworkwhatthe-?”
She turned around only to be greeted by his back as he sauntered off.
Oh. You. Dick.
Were the cameras even out of view? Ah. They were. Okay. Thank god.
But that didn’t stop her from feeling flustered. How was she going to top that?
Best to just be the bigger person and not engage. Best to ignore him.
But when had she ever made good decisions?
She took out jer phone and sent him a text.
“Hope you weren’t planning on staying in for Valentine’s day.”
anonymous
"Sorry... didn't know. Never been shot before. Burned... stabbed... I can handle that.. " his words were slow. As the tourniquet was tightened he did his best to stay silent but couldn't help the grunt of pain. His sight was going dark. / Nana didn't want to leave her boy alone with Heroes but there was no helping it. He needed help. This was beyond her skills. "Sanitized by fire, boiling, acid or alcohol, Miss.." Nana hissed. "Tsk, your poor hands. What can I do to help you help my boy?"❤️
profanehero
Banshee paused. “Fiiiii- no? No. Alcohol. Rubbing alcohol.”
Her eyes wandered to the matron beside her, then back to the man. “… This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.”
She blinked a few times, tapping his face. “Hey, hey. Stay with me.”
anonymous
"Ok. I'm awake. I know. Don't worry. Can't hurt worse than doing it myself." So he wouldn't pass out, he focused on memorizing each of her features, even her freckles. "Thank you for doing this. I thought I could take care of it myself." When Nana went to get the rubbing alcohol, he reached over to touch Banshee's arm. "I never meant to scare you. The park was a chance thing. I turned around & there you were. I wasn't gonna bother... but when I heard your gun misfire. I was so worried. ❤️
profanehero
“You should have left me…” She solemnly lets him know.
What comes out of her mouth is truth, but not something she clearly was thinking about. It was like a script prepared she had memorized.
“It’s my job to lay down my life if need be.
anonymous
"No!" he said as he sat up, instantly regretted it. Falling back onto the pillows he reached out to her. "No. You are too important. Not me." he explained catching her look. "Your son. Don't make him an orphan twice. Besides if it were a civilian you would have saved them no matter the cost. Any True Hero would. How could I do less, when my life is less important than yours. How could you be so selfish by saying leave you? Any good death, isn't! Not to your son. Not to them. And not to me." ❤️
profanehero
“I don’t think we get to decide that,” Katherine murmurs. She seems to regret just talking for a moment then sighs.
“Okay,” she says. “Let me level with you… I’m not the hero you seem to think I am.”Katherine cuts the bullshit entirely and looks him square in the eye.
“I’m a War Hero. I show up when a country’s soldier breaks the geneva conventions. I kill them; often very quickly but very violently. I drag the body back to the UN, and I let the war go on…” She crosses her legs and tells it to him straight, the whole “banshee” persona was as much a front as it was a defense mechanism. “To top it all off: I never… I never wanted to be a hero. I wanted a normal life, but was strong-armed into it… Now I’m a hero to support my son, and to help stop villains like Alloy, but I… I’ve always wanted a family of my own, to stop feeling self-conscious of my quirk.”
Katherine figured it qas best to lay it out as nicely as possible. This man… Had no idea what he was getting into.
“I’m sorry… But the Banshee you seem obsessed with…” She swallowed. “… Doesn’t exist.”
33 notes · View notes
arlingtonpark · 6 years
Text
SNK 105 Review
Alright, this is it: Isayama is finally starting to pull back the curtain to reveal what’s been going on behind the scenes of this whole story arc.
The dealer is about to show their hand; let’s see how much I won:
Tumblr media
F----K!!1! G--damn it! What the f----k!?
Life hates me. I know it does. I know it does because I saw the fan-made typeset, saw something that made me concluded I had been vindicated, and was starting to feel like a competent person for once in my lifethen blind-sided by that reveal of Zeke.
So, yeah, I suck. What else is new?
Let’s do a rundown of my scorecard:
Everything else aside, I’ll at least take solace in the fact that I was right about the letter. The idea of Eren communicating with Zeke through the postal system never sat right with me, it just seemed like such an inherently insecure and unsafe method. If, hypothetically, instead of mailing the letter to Zeke, Eren sent it to an ally holed up in a safe house somewhere and then they delivered it across the ocean to Paradis…yeah, that’s much more secure than just sending it and leaving it up to the fates to decide what happens.
Nope, it turns out the actual method of communication that they used is even more out of left field than snail mail. So Zeke has devotees now? I mentioned a Cult of Eren in the past, but apparently it was the Cult of Zeke I should’ve been watching out for. There’s nothing more to say about this other than the obligatory plea for an explanation sometime down the road. 
Speaking of predictions, do I win points for foreseeing that the way things were going the only thing left to do was for the Survey Corps to just board ship and haul ass? I said that was what would happen unless Isayama threw in some curveball like Double Agent Zeke, and…what’s that? Oh, so I get nothing? Alright, fine. I framed it as an either/or and it ended up being both, so that makes sense.
This series has this way of being both predictable and unpredictable at the same time. That nothing else could happen but for the Survey Corps to retreat to their ship and leave with maybe someone dying was completely foreseeable. And, I am now forced to admit, the fact that Zeke was working with Paradis was also completely foreseeable. But both of these things playing out was, in my mind, unexpected and unpredictable. 
That’s one of this series’ strengths: it still can manage to have a surprise in store even when you think you have it figured out. 
Even more talk of predictions! I speculated earlier about what I jokingly called “the cult of Eren,” a hypothetical faction of right-wing zealots who take Eren’s creed of fighting too far. This was more of a wish than a prediction. I wanted this to happen because it would make the story sooo much more interesting. (Not that it wasn’t already interesting!) Eren’s part in all this is tba, but I’m already jumping for joy because (drum roll please) ladies and gentlemen, we got right-wing nationalists!
Not only that, but I speculated on just how pervasive this nationalist sentiment was, saying (IIRC) that it was probably a large part of the general population and especially of the military. Welp, turns out I was righter even beyond my wildest dreams because it turns out everyone in the SC except our heroes is drinking that nationalist kool-aid.
Floch is apparently a leading figure amongst at least the right-wing SC members; you can tell because of his Trumpian hairstyle because he’s the only member of this faction whose name we know. This faction is clearly not going anywhere. In fact, I think it’ll play a prominent role in the final story arc and that means Floch will probably be important, too.
We’re already seeing the roots of conflict between him and Jean. Earlier, Jean was the one who butt heads with Floch over military tactics, and here, while Floch is reveling in victory, Jean is the person the story offers up as the one to present the opposing perspective. And not long after, when Floch proposes throwing Gabi and Falco overboard, Jean is the one to object.
The only way this could potentially be more interesting is if this conflict were centered on the future of the soul of the SC. It makes sense that Floch’s group would want to increase their power within the SC by moving their allies into positions of leadership. It also makes sense that the more reasonable members would be against this, and that Jean would be a leading figure among these moderates given the stature he already has within the Corps. Two people who’re on the same side but with opposing viewpoints is always an interesting setup. They can’t fight each other physically, which means this’ll be more a clash of worldviews and wits.
And that means politics! Hooray for politics! This is never going to happen.
Let’s delve deeper into this nationalist rabbit hole.
Nationalism is an ideology that centers around the concept of “nations,” distinct groups of people that share an affinity. Such an affinity can be historical, cultural, or racial in nature. Nationalism holds that individual needs both are and should be seen as subordinate to the needs of the nation, and that all nations have a right to self-determination, ideally in the form of a sovereign government through which they can tend to their own affairs without outside interference.
Eren Yeager is a nationalist.
I’m serious. Eren is fighting specifically for the freedom of the Eldian nation, and in the name of this holy crusade he is willing to manipulate his friends and kill innocent men, women, and even children; his actions betray a very nationalistic way of thinking. He may not be writing love letters to Ymir like Floch is, (you know he’s doing it) but he is possessed of a nationalist mindset nonetheless.
Before continuing on, a brief word of caution: please be careful not to confuse patriotism (love for one’s country) with nationalism. (love for one’s nation) What Eren is doing is not comparable to a soldier who will valiantly give up their lives to protect the citizens of his home country. Eren is fighting for his nation, not his country. It is the freedom of Eldia, as Zeke put it, that they are fighting for, not the freedom of Paradis. It’s an easy mistake to make, so I just wanted to nip this in the bud before moving on.
Let’s talk about Eren’s beneficent audacity.
First, let’s review the known facts: Eren Yeager contrived a confrontation with Reiner and Falco in the basement of an apartment building. At the outset of this meeting, he emphasized that the building was occupied by men, women, and children, and implicitly threatened to transform into his titan form, an act that would’ve killed most everyone in the building. He did this to gain Reiner’s compliance. At the end of the meeting, without provocation, Eren transformed anyway and killed most everyone in the building. He then turned his sights on his actual target: the civilian and military leadership of Marley, a country that Paradis is arguably at war with. He killed them along with an unknown number of civilians. He did it for his race.
For me, the source of apprehension here is Eren destroying the apartment. Civilians were killed by falling debris and may have even been killed by Eren directly depending on who exactly was in the section of the stands he belly flopped onto, but the thing that earned Eren a place in hell (right next to Armin) is his treatment of the apartment dwellers.
In my last post, I talked about the need to distinguish between an excuse and a justification.
With a justification, it is argued that a seemingly bad act was actually a good act. The circumstance that makes it a good act is the justification.
With an excuse, it is not denied that what happened was bad, but a reason is put forth that at least partially absolves the perpetrator of blame. That reason is the excuse.
Killing innocent people (I hope we can all agree) is never justified. It can only ever be excused, and, unless there’s something to this that hasn’t been revealed to us yet, the excuse that Eren and Zeke put forth here just isn’t going to cut it.
The Eldians have legitimate grievances here. The world wants them dead, recourse to violence is justified here. What isn’t justified here is the callous disregard for the inherent dignity of others.
Eren took hostages. That is dehumanizing and demeaning to the inherent dignity of the hostages.
Reiner and Falco posed no immediate threat to him, but he transformed anyway. He either didn’t care if they died, or he wanted them to die. Again, dehumanizing, demeaning.
And those people Eren took hostage? His demands were met, but he killed them anyway. Not because they were actively impeding him in any way, but because they just happened to physically be in his way. But they weren’t in his way because of bad luck, they were in his way because Eren chose to place them in his way. He wanted them to be in a position to die if he transformed so they could serve as bargaining chips to force Reiner’s submission. Then he transformed knowing full well that because of the way events had been manipulated (with him as the manipulator) people would die. They were marked for death. Eren branded them himself. Once again, dehumanizing, demeaning.
But you wanna know what’s especially sickening about this? Those people Eren dehumanized and demeaned?
They were Eldians.
Those were Eldians that he dehumanized, demeaned, and ultimately threw in the garbage bin.
It was an Eldian apartment building in an Eldian internment zone. It was Eldian property he destroyed, and it was Eldian lives that he extinguished, and it is justified in his mind by the prospect of a free Eldian race. In other words:
He killed Eldians in the name of freeing the Eldian people.
The Eldian people have been demeaned by just about everyone. The Marleyans use them as weapons. Throughout the world, they are held in internment zones. Gabi talks of being figuratively (and maybe even literally) spat upon by others. The list of people who disregard the inherent dignity of Eldians is a long one.
You can add Eren Yeager to that list now too.
Dehumanizing Eldians is wrong because dehumanizing people in general is wrong. It’s wrong when the Marleyans do it, it’s wrong when Eren does it, it’s wrong.
It’s just…wow. Just wow. Eren is fighting for a free Eldia, and yet here he is, dehumanizing Eldians, not giving a shit about them as people, using them as a means to an end. Imagine if the abolitionist movement used slave labor in the name of abolishing slavery, or if eco-terrorists bombed a zoo to protest animal cruelty. That would be despicable.
The Eldian people have been oppressed and mistreated for so long now, and Eren’s thinking here is that further dehumanization and mistreatment on an individual level is justified if it means the freedom of the group? Recall that Grisha had a similar way of thinking. 
Grisha saw his son as a tool in the fight for the freedom of the Eldian nation. He put the well-being of the nation before the well-being of his son. In principle, Eren is doing the exact same thing. In his mind, the Eldian nation comes first, people (even fellow Eldians!) second.
Eren is no hypocrite, I’m not saying that. I’m saying he’s a nationalist. That’s how he’s able to rationalize what he’s doing. He can disregard Eldians to fight the disregarding of Eldians without cognitive dissonance because in the end his heart is with the nation, not the individuals that make up that nation.
For added clarity, let’s outline a distinction between two ways of caring about the plight of the Eldians. 
The first way is the individualist way. This approach emphasizes the autonomy of each individual Eldian. It is wrong for any single Eldian to be treated as they are because it is wrong for any single person to be treated in such a way. When the individualist says, “The Eldian people are being mistreated,” they’re simply aggregating the mistreatment of all Eldians for ease of conversation.
The second way is the Nationalist way, Eren’s way. The wrong way. This approach is informed by the nationalist creed that the group is more important than the individual. Because of this, the nationalist viewpoint is that the way the world acts towards Eldians is an affront to the dignity of the Eldian nation, not any single Eldian. “The Eldian people are being mistreated,” is to be read literally when it said by them.
I’m not saying the cause of Eldian freedom is a bad one. I’m not even saying violence isn’t the answer. The Eldians do have a right to resort to violence, but that violent action must be carried out in a civilized manner, if that makes sense. Eren’s tactics are barbaric.
If even the lives of individual Eldians are expendable in this nationalistic crusade then what isn’t? Seriously, is there nothing sacred in this world to him?
Even his “friends” don’t seem to be safe. (The fact I can arguably put that word in quotes is awful) He used them. He threw himself in harm’s way knowing the concern they have for him would force them into following his plan. A plan, by the way, that entails sparking a war with humanity, a war that Eren’s compatriots, being soldiers, will now have to fight in. That doesn’t sound like friendship to me. (Hence why I use the term “compatriots” rather than “friends”)
Hange said they’ve lost all trust in him. That may just be the raw emotions of seeing him face to face for the first time since embarking on his crusade, but I would not be surprised if Eren’s relationship with the Survey Corps was more transactional than affectionate for a good while.
The only question that remains is whether Eren is eligible for clemancy; that is to say, if he can be absolved of blame.
Is it possible that circumstances were such that Eren had to proceed as he did? Well, Isayama was sitting on the cult of Zeke for so long, so I can’t really say no. Who knows what he’s got up his sleeve.  At the end of the day, what this all hinges on is whether or not it was necessary for Eren to have his talk with Reiner since it was having that talk at all that necessitated Eren taking hostages in order to force Reiner’s surrender.
Regardless of the circumstances, the fact remains that Eren is a nationalist, and because of that, HE. MUST. LOSE.
The nationalist ideology must not be vindicated. In Eren’s mind the lives of even children are expendable if it means the freedom of the Eldian nation. Not the Eldians themselves, mind you, but the Eldian nation. That way of thinking is contemptible; it has no merit. And unless Isayama plans on springing some BS message on us, this will be reflected in the story. Somehow, someway, Eren is going to get his comeuppance. Basic Human Decency requires it.
Moving on.
We at least now know why this mission was undertaken: primarily it was to abscond with Zeke and get him to Paradis.
Throughout the past few chapters it has been pointed out not just by the actual characters in the story but by me and others that Eren’s plan seemingly made no sense. But now things are clearer: they apparently did realize they were prodding a sleeping giant, but that’s okay because now they have someone with royal blood and someone else with the Founding Titan together, and that’s apparently the equivalent of having all five Exodia cards in your hand: you win instantly, so nothing else matters.
They must have known that following through with this plan would draw the world’s ire, but they apparently calculated that the benefits of having someone with royal blood and someone with the Founding Titan’s power together would offset this. There’s only one way this calculation makes sense: their plan involves the wall titans.
That has to be their end game. The ability to mobilize the Wall Titans is the only prize here that makes inciting the world’s anger acceptable to them. To say nothing of the fact that having a royal and the Founding Titan together is necessary for it to happen at all.
Previously, I compared Paradis’ attack to the attack on Pearl Harbor, the point being that, like the Japanese, they were picking a fight they would lose in the long term. Now we know this comparison no longer holds: to put it bluntly, Japan didn’t go to war with the US with the knowledge they were about to obtain nuclear weapons.
That changes everything. Yeah, you launched a sneak attack on the US, but who cares? You have nukes now and everyone else doesn’t! No one can touch you.
So, you’re Zeke/Eren. You have the closest thing to nuclear weapons in the SNK world and you have a monopoly it.
What do you do next?
I can think of two possibilities as to what they’re planning:
I’ll call possibility #1 Operation Madman Nixon. In this scenario, Zeke and Eren’s plan is to threaten to unleash the Wall Titans unless the world accedes to their demands. In such a scenario those demands could be an international commitment to not interfering in Paradis’ affairs. They could even demand that all the world’s Eldians be brought to live on Paradis where they wouldn’t have to suffer further persecution. Depending on how exactly things shake out, this could be the happy ending. An overall Hobbesian message that humans are so inherently violent the only way to have peace is to put a gun to everyone’s head. That sounds like a message this series would go for. Peace through strength.
Possibility #2 is Operation Everlasting Peace. In this scenario, Zeke and Eren’s plan is to release the Wall Titans and wipe out all of human civilization except for the Paradis Eldians, thus ushering in an era of unprecedented peace and prosperity (for the Paradis Eldians).
Madman Nixon is the more likely scenario in my book. As disreputable as Eren has been recently, I doubt he’s so cruel that he’d actually destroy all of humanity. Because, really, why would he? Why would he resort to outright genocide if he has every reason to believe his goals can be accomplished through simple coercion?
If Eren or Zeke were to ever go with Operation Everlasting Peace, I think the most likely justification would be that they’d realize it would basically be a retread of what King Fritz had to do to keep the peace among the other titan shifters: use the wall titans to force everyone to stop fighting. This realization would lead them to conclude that humanity is beyond saving so they just wipe the slate clean of all factions except for one, their own. Natch.
Whatever happens, it would not be surprising if a large amount of the rest of the story was dedicated to an internal debate among the cast about whether or not they should just straight up use the Wall Titans to destroy humanity. You know Floch and his ilk will push for it now that it’s a legit option open to them.
Isayama chose to introduce this far right faction for a reason. The fact that such a reason exists, coupled with Floch’s insistence that everyone outside the walls is an enemy, plus the convenient turn of events that Paradis now has the power to destroy the world if they wanted to…and, yeah, it seems pretty obvious where Isayama is going with all this. Jean vs. Floch, moderate vs. extremist, Paul Ryan vs. Mark Meadows. This will probably be a theme going forward. 
Eren is already partial in his thinking to Floch, so he’ll probably also be partial towards them in such a scenario. This would also allow for some good character drama between Armin, Mikasa, and Eren.
I can’t wait.
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starrbomb · 6 years
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Bite bite
(I apologize ahead right now, I am very sorry) Okay, so the team goes to this abandoned planet, both by its inhabitants, who had left because the galra has invaded, and the galra. There is word that galra has only left recently after it was deemed unsafe even for them. And when word got to the indigenous people, they refused to go back, saying that their new planet is much more safe for them and their young,
So what does the team do? They go and check out the planet, because if there’s something there that they can use against the galra, they have to take a chance, right? They split up into two teams; Hunk Pidge and Keith go to the abandoned city to check out what sort of information the people had, since they had heard from the people that they had filed hidden on their computers about the galra that could help them in their fight, and Shiro and Lance went to the recently abandoned galra compound to see if there was information left behind about their plans or anything of use.
It’s in this galra building that they realize just how creepy it is, especially with all of the crazy green webs covering every corner and hallway they find themselves in. Shiro leads them into some sort of experimentation lab, one that was throughly trashed; broken glass and papers thrown about everywhere, abundant amount of webs again, even the table was destroyed along with any control boards for the screens. Or anything. Shiro and Lance scope out the room, trying to figure out what made the gouges in the steel walls, when it happens. Something falls off the roof and lands on top of Lance, getting him to scream as he tries to fight it off. It’s a huge mutated spider, something that could haunt anyone’s nightmares for years to come. In the struggle, the beast spider bites Lance on his neck just before shiro is able to get around the destroyed table to get off lance and kill it.
But its already too late, lance can feel burning and yet freezing cold go up and down his neck from the bite, making everything scream at him and feel absolutely numb at the same time. He calls out for Shiro, for his mother, anyone to come and take the pain away. He’s pretty sure he’s crying, but it’s like every nerve is dying, so he can’t tell.
He can’t
Tell when Shiro scoops him up and races out of the building. Nor does he hear when Shiro is screaming at the others to get back to the castle. By the time they reach their lions, Lance can barely feel anything at all besides pain and fear and tiredness. He just wants to sleep. To sleep away the pain and wake up when he gets out of the pod. He can hear Shiro’s rapid heartbeat by his ear, and feel the vibrations of Shiro yelling at him, but he can’t figure out the pleas of shiro telling to stay awake. That their almost there.
He doesn’t stay awake.
Coran gets him into the pods as quickly as e can but it’s too late. Lance is practically dead. He immediately takes Lance out of the pod and hooks him up to a fluid that can mimic to the atom human blood types (I’m making up alien medical stuff, just follow me on this) and it seems to work at first, Lance is stable although unconscious and they can focus on whatever poison entered his system. By then out of no where, Lance shots up before they can even get started on getting a sample and starts throwing up. After the contents of his stomach is completely gone, he starts coughing up blood, buckets and buckets of it. Coran and Shiro don’t know what to do, and it doesn’t help that he can hear that the others starting to make their way to the medical wing.
Shiro can’t figure out what’s going on, but no matter what Lance just keeps puking up more blood. And then he watches as Lance scrambles with his hand and ropes out the tubes in his arms scaring the living day lights out of Shiro and Coran and they try to get him to let them put them back in. But that’s when they realize that Lance is actually puking less and less blood, and is taking in more deep breathes. But he still feels ice cold, and once they get Lance to stay still they can’t actually find a pulse on him, no matter what pressure points they try.
The others come in and find the amount of blood on the floor and are immediately screaming out questions and just plain old scream (Hunk can’t deal with blood). Lance tells them all to quiet down, all of the drums and the yelling giving his migraine even more fuel. It confuses the others since......there aren’t any sounds of drums. Plus the fact that Lance is trying to hide away from the lights and how pale his usually very lively skin is is only making them more worried about what’s going on.
It takes hours of testing and even then the results just doesn’t add up at all.
Medically and scientifically, Lance should be dead. And yet he is still very much alive, complaining about all the tests and needles and the drumming (which everyone insists isn’t there). They decide to talk to the people that once lives there and see if they know what’s going on. They tell them that the thing that bit Lance is called a spiativs, their bites were known for killing almost anyone in minutes, but there were rumors that there some that did survive the bite, but at a terrible price. Thy became pretty much the living dead, and the side affects made their lives almost impossible to live in the cities.
Pidge makes the connection that the symptoms for their living dead is basically vampires. Lance is a vampire now. The constant ‘drumming’ that he was hearing was actually their racing heart beats that Lance could hear now, and the almost non existent heart beat (they finally found it thanks to the pods) was the fact that the venom literally changed his body’s chemistry to where it didn’t actually need to be pumped with blood every millisecond.
So yeah, he’s a vampire now. Including all of the good quirks as well as the bad. He is stronger, faster, doesn’t need as much food or sleep to live anymore (doesn’t stop him from taking naps though), all of his senses are hightened and he even has the fangs. Bad news is that he can’t hangout with the others for too long, the sounds of their heartbeats dredging up headaches and stomachs aches even. He almost always wears his hood up now to keep the lights out of his eyes and he starts to actually get that craving for blood. And not the replica stuff that Coran had tried to pump him with before, they tried that first and he ended up puking it all up not even half an hour later. Apparently he needs actual real blood.
At first, Lance refuses to tell anyone else about the new unusual appetite besides Coran. He doesn’t want to be like the stereotypical vampire that ‘wants to suck everyone’s blood’ even though that is the thing that he needs in order to stay healthy. He tries to make do with the fake stuff, any somehow makes it a few weeks with it, but after Shiro finds him puking it up he knows that he can’t hide it anymore. He tells shiro about the blood appetite and tells him that he doesn’t want to hurt the others, or ask them to let him eat from them. It just felt wrong and he didn’t want to hurt any of them.
Shiro suggests (cough cough insist) that Lance drink from him, and Lance who has been crying the whole time refuses. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself since he’s been pretty much starving himself for weeks. But Shiro almost begs Lance to do it. It’s his fault that Lance is this way now, he wants to help any way he can. He can’t watch Lance keep doing this to himself when he knows that he can help him.
Shiro gets Lance to agree, but on the condition that Coran is there with them to make sure he doesn’t go too far. The first time was definitely awkward; Lance isn’t exactly sure what to do and he’s so focused on not hurting shiro that when actually does start to feed he almost chokes a few times. As for Shiro, the initial bite hurt a bit but then he actually feels sort of weird. Not hurting, but like more in a dream like state, and the feeling of Lance feeding actually feels sort of nice. Good. Pleasing.
After that, they make a point of Lance feeding off of shiro once a week, making sure that he doesn’t lose to much blood while satisfying Lance’s appetite.
The more time they do it, the closer they feel to one another. They start to hang out more after missions and out of know where they find themselves falling for each other. Lance tells him all of his insecurities and shiro does his best to help prove them wrong. He compliments Lance more (probably more than he should on things like his looks and his personality) and shiro confides his worries about the war and his lost time to the galra.
They finally confess to each other in probably not the best way possible; they had ended falling asleep together after a late night chat and shiro wakes Lance up by accident with one of his nightmares. Shiro is completely out of it while lancetries to pull him back from his nightmare. Shiro is begging Lance to make the pain go away, so Lance does the only thing he knows will help shiro get out of his painful dream. He bites him. It’s rough at first and Lance is trying to keep focused on making Shiro feel better. And in Shiro’s happy induced state from Lance feeding, he tells him that he loves him and that he always makes him feel good when feeding. ( don’t get mad at shiro, he always get pretty loose lipped and his brain doesn’t think everything he says through) or course shiro actually loves him, but Lance believes that shiro is only hanging out with him because of the apparent ‘happy high’ he gives him whenever he feeds off him.
Lance closes himself off after that night, and shiro doesn’t really remember that night so he’s not sure why whenever he tries to spend time with his blue Paladin, he always runs off with such a look of pain in his eyes. After a week of this and when Lance misses their usual feeding, he gives on trying to let Lance come to him about it and decide to search him out and ask why he’s avoiding him.
It’s a very hard and emotionally exhausting arguement, a lot of it is Lance yelling at himself for ever thinking that such a great guy like Shiro would ever think about wanting to be with him, even before his ‘death’.
Long argument cut short, shiro explains that he really meant it when he said he loved Lance, and not because of the ‘happy high’ he gets when ever Lance feeds off him. He loves the way Lance is protective of everyone and always puts them ahead of himself. The way he’ll always laugh at hunk’s jokes and be a ‘rubber duck’ for Pidge and Matt when their coding. He loves everything about Lance.
They officially come out to the team two weeks later, to which the others give their gac to Matt.
Apparently, the others had a bet on when they would actually come out to the team as a couple and Matt had won.
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Dragon Quest final bosses generally have a certain theme going. For one, they are always incredibly ancient creatures, generally demons, that give off a vibe of mystery and ferocity. Just why exactly is this gigantic, red demon trying to control my entire world? And what will he do if I don't stop him? They generally refrain from giving us many answers about them, which I actually quite like. It definitely adds to the mystery and to the dangerous air surrounding them. When you finally confront these monsters, there's always this... feeling you get that's impossible to describe. Like... this is it! The final monster I must slay... but there's always this sinister and dangerous air about them that just... is so perfect.
This feeling I always felt was perfected in Mortamor. Throughout Dragon Quest VI you have always been led to believe that Murdaw was the final boss... but even before you realize how wrong you are for believing that there's always these hints that there's something bigger going on. Some greater force... watching you from beyond the shadows. This is especially prevalent AFTER finishing Dragon Quest VI and going through it for the second time. That is if you know what to look for. For example, and I've talked about this a little before, but Mortamor's leitmotif. Five notes that haunt MANY of Dragon Quest VI's moments, from the dungeons to the 'final' battle with Murdaw. And this is the kind of thing that gets me every time. It makes me feel... unsafe. And that feeling grows stronger when you find out about the Archfiend and their power. They are able to influence your realm and to even kill, despite being in a different reality altogether. I cannot even express how much terror that fills me with. A creature so powerful that even when it is not present, it still will demonstrate its ultimate power and destroy everything you hold dear... Mortamor was a presence in Dragon Quest VI that I could feel throughout the game, even when they were not physically there. Which, in a series like Dragon Quest... is what I love the most.
However, putting my own preferences aside, there is one Dragon Quest final boss who I feel doesn't just come out on top of Dragon Quest final bosses, but also on top of most final bosses in most series in general. And that final boss is Orgodemir.
In order to get the full feel of him, it's definitely best to have beaten most of the previous Dragon Quest games. This is because he completely subverts almost all expectations of the Dragon Quest series final bosses, while still keeping the feeling of danger and mystery all these final bosses have intact. 
It's best to get the feel yourself, and so I urge you if you have not played Dragon Quest VII... DO IT. If you have or you just want spoilers though... I suppose I can't stop you from reading on.
Anyway, you find out about Orgodemir fairly early in the game, he's the Demon Lord everyone's blathering about. In most other Dragon Quest games this monster would actually NOT be the final boss. That's because the theme for most of these games is to set a monster believed to be the final boss into play... and then reveal that they were just a pawn right after you defeat them. This has happened in countless Dragon Quest games, from Dragon Quest III all the way to Dragon Quest VIII. So when you defeat Orgodemir near the end of the game and the credits don't roll... that's no surprise. 
What's surprising is when you find out WHY. You see, Orgodemir isn't actually dead at all. In fact, he tricked your entire team into resurrecting him after his supposed death! So right after making you believe that you had the story figured out and that you were fixing to find out who Orgodemir was working for... it turns out that actually you were wrong and Orgodemir was the final boss all along! And that is just... he completely subverted all expectations... in a way that was just flawless. And I haven't even gotten started on his feats!
Orgodemir went head to head with the Almighty for thousands of years... the Almighty here being a literal God. Orgodemir is also canonically weaker than said Almighty, yet somehow he was still able to win. Orgodemir also has his own leitmotif, and although it isn't done quite as magnificently as Mortamor's is... it's still pretty dang well-done. Orgodemir also managed to free a sealed demon while he himself was also sealed away. You can definitely feel Orgodemir's presence far before fighting him. And when you do fight him... that final boss theme fits him so bloody well...! It's utter chaos. Orgodemir is savage. His true form looks completely insane and almost feral, but he himself is so sinister and dangerous... and his theme fits that absolutely perfectly. 
Orgodemir is a living subversion of almost every other Dragon Quest final boss while still keeping that sinister air about him and that feeling of a truly ancient evil... also did I mention that Orgodemir KILLED A GOD?
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