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ktheist · 3 years

Text

1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs.

synopsis.

sit still, look pretty.

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?”

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-”

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins.

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios

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turtlegirlave · 3 years

Text

So this has a ton of opinions which I usually stray away from but i really let all my opinions out here. Also there is definitely fact mistakes, probably name mistakes and some incorrect singing terms in here, I wrote this at 2 A.M. with a limited knowledge of theater I’m just trying to get a point across.

Why s2 of hsm the series should have been newsies instead of beauty and the beast:

They say straight up in the show “we need a real Alan Menkhen musical” and they pick beauty and the beast instead of newsies, a literal Broadway stage production???

At first I assumed it was because the cast was primarily male, but that isn’t even a reasonable argument. 1)as shown by s1 when a boy played sharpay, gender doesn’t matter when being considered for a role. 2), a cast with multiple male leads would give the gay men in the show a chance to shine, instead of shoving them to background roles like Chip. Not to mention Carlos is a dancer, and newsies is a musical driven by choreography. 3), since nini moved there are only like 2 lead females anyway, which works for the 2 female roles in newsies.

Casting Wise, the play works SO MUCH better!

Ricky: jack kelley is a much better role for him than the beast for many reasons. First, their personalities are very similar with the mischievous main teen vibe, so the role would be like Troy where Ricky can slip into it easier. Second, it fits him better vocally. It is very clear from listening to Joshua basset sing that he has a relatively high vocal range, and singing low notes or in a deep voice doesn’t come as naturally to him. Jeremy Jordan has a similar vocal range, where he stays in higher octaves and more rarely uses a deep, monotone voice (at least never to the beast’s extent). Ricky would sound perfect singing in Jack’s vocal range. The beast, however, sings almost exclusively in an extremely deep, monotone voice that Joshua cannot easily perform.

Ashlyn: not only does she look quite similar to Katherine, but they have similar personalities as well. Also, katherine’s high and bubbly singing voice would sound lovely with Ash’s, which is also high and bubbly but often softer. This would allow her to push herself to sing louder and more confidently. And she still gets to play a smart bookworm lead female role.

Kourtney: she was born to play miss medda larken. Mrs. Potts’ debut song “beauty and the beast” is a soft romance ballad, which does not match kourt’s stadium reach, strong, powerful voice. “That’s rich” not only shows off her vocals better, but matches her personality and voice much better with the grit and power behind it. Also, Mrs Potts as a character is the soft, motherly type. Miss medda is a rambunctious, empowered, “I got men if I want em but I don’t need em” kinda woman. Which role better fits the girl power, loud, activist, personal cheer squad type person that Kourtney is?

Carlos and Sebastian: not only would this stop shoving the gays and only interesting men other than Ricky to background roles (sorry big red), but it would show off their talents. Seb would make a wonderful crutchy, with his innocent nature and likeness to the character. It would also give him a chance to flex his vocals and sing a duet with Ricky in Santa Fe, further developing the friendships in the show. Carlos could play really any of the main boys, I mostly think he would kill in this due to his dance and choreography skills, which newsies really emphasizes.

Big red: PLEASE this boy would be perfect as Ben Cook’s role (can’t remember the newsie’s name). They’re both the kinda dumb but endearing friend type, and he leads “king of New York”, a song with a killer tap dancing break, which is the whole reason big red wanted to try out! His chemistry with Ricky as crutchy would make that a fine role for him too, but since Sebastian has stronger vocals I think it’s better for him to take a more prominent role while big red relies on his dancing skills over singing.

Gina: though there’s no more lead girl roles, I think she would kill it as mr. Pulitzer. They could add some spice to the character through her insane dance skills, and she would play a great “cunning yet intelligent buisinesswoman” type. This dude also gets 2 or 3 songs, and honestly I don’t remember who she plays in Beauty and the beast so idk.

EJ: I admit Gaston is a perfect role for him and I can’t fit him into newsies well. He would play a good spot conlin, though it is a significantly smaller role. No one really cares about ej though so small loss.

Plot valuability:

doing newsies makes literally way more sense. Firstly, they are kinda planning entering this show last-minute compared to the competition, so to pick a show already written and choreographed for stage production would really save time. (Even though it would still need work to be condensed for a high school production). Second, miss Jen is so determined to stand out from the crowd and win the contest so she picks... beauty and the beast? One of the most popular Disney movies (and honestly with one of Alan’s weaker soundtracks compared to tangled, Aladdin, and the little mermaid imo). Having them do newsies, especially when switching up gender roles like casting Gina as Pulitzer, would actually make them stand apart from the dozens of schools performing Disney movies. It would also give a significantly more impressive vocal and dance performance, since the songs were written for Broadway singers rather than actors. The set is also more cheap and condensed, while still looking professional, which would help with their “we’re too poor and late to afford a straight-up aquarium so let’s do the most with what we’ve got.” Putting the characters in these roles would also not alter their development or main story plots much, besides strengthening certain friendships and pushing aside less popular characters (ej). It would also give more rep for the gays as well as switching up gender roles. Imagine, the gay guys get actual things to do in the show and aren’t defined by the sole plot of “my boyfriend rich” relationship drama! (I love these two but I am a tired ace). Also jerjor performs in both this and tangled the series, so it’s a double whammy for Alan menkhen representation.

Marketability: I know the musical has to be widely known and appealing to viewers. People watched s1 because they love hsm. People also love beauty and the beast, so viewership may raise with fans of the movie. Newsies doesn’t die here, though. It is a very widely popular play among theatre people, and existed first as a movie musical so it isn’t exclusive to theater kids. Also, fans of Newsies are generally between their tweens and early twenties, the exact age demographic for the show. Beauty and the beast is a classic and more widely known, but also doesn’t draw in large numbers of the exact age group you want. Also, the fact that newsies is a little less mainstream only helps the plot point of them choosing it to still have something well known while also standing out from the competition. Doing beauty and the beast is not only an awful choice for casting that limits the actors vocals or is completely out of their range, but it also makes them blend in with the crowd.

Final notes: beauty and the beast was IMO the worst choice for the play this season. Movies like Aladdin and tangled both have very energetic and loud soundtracks that allow these characters to belt their hearts out. Beauty and the beast has a very folksy, quiet, ballad type of track that limits the actors. The only actor that I think sings ballads better than big booming tracks is Nini, who isn’t even in the play this year. Ricky also sings great ballads, which is why ballads that are still slow but also emotional and powerful like “Santa fe” or “something to believe in” (which would sound AMAZING in his and Ashlyn’s voices) fit much better than the deep voice of the beast that he can not comfortably sing in. Also, the beast has very few songs whereas newsies would allow him to belt his heart out in nearly every song with that lovely voice he has. The age range of the newsies cast (that characters are supposed to be 17) fits better with these very teen actors than a movie about old fashioned French young adults. Really newsies was the best musical choice for this season, but I also believe beauty and the beast was the last one they should have chosen.

(After reading comments I rescind my statement that beauty and the beast was the worst choice, but it’s still second to newsies imo)

Feel free to debate me in the comments or point out my mistakes, I’m very open to other points of view

#newsies #hsmtmts #hsm the series #beauty and the beast #Disney #disney+#disney plus #jeremy jordan

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corpsentry · 3 years

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ao3 mirror

fandom: age of calamity, botw rating: g starring: prince sidon and mipha note: spoilers for both games

"You know, Daruk’s my idol,” Yunobo says. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” Sidon says. He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands for long enough to look up blankly at him. "Mipha was my sister."

the age of calamity, side b.

The thing about time travel is, even if someone stands in front of you and tells you point-blank that there’s a way to bring your dead sister back to life, you’re probably not going to believe them.

“I don’t believe you,” says Sidon.

“Okay,” Teba says patiently, fluffing his feathers with an absent glide of his wing. “Try harder.”

Sidon stares at him. He tries harder, though he’s not sure what that entails and so doesn’t end up really doing anything. “I don’t get you.”

“Which part don’t you get?”

“I get to see Mipha again?”

Teba’s eyebrow twitches. “Let me put this as simply as I can, Prince,” he says, a little too loudly. The soldier stationed at the bottom of the staircase turns to look at them. “We’re going to go back to the point a hundred years ago at which the four champions were killed in their divine beasts. We’re going to save them. We’re going to make sure they defeat Ganon before he can send Hyrule into ruin. And then we’re going to leave.”

By now, they’ve caught everyone’s attention. It’s been a long time since a hundred years ago, but here in Zora’s Domain it still feels like the events of last Tuesday, to be recounted over salt tea and fish skewers, to be mourned over an empty coffin. Everyone’s staring at the big white bird with the angry eyebrows, a little curious, a little apprehensive. For what he’s worth, Teba is indifferent. This much will not faze him.

Sidon twiddles his thumbs behind his back, where Teba cannot see them and the guards at the bottom of the staircase can point and laugh all they want. To be honest, he heard nothing. His heart stopped when he heard ‘killed in their divine beasts’, at which point a watery monster punched its way into his skull and crushed his brain. The monster is nothing concrete, nothing crystal-clear, just what little Link has told him, bits and pieces of a history he was prevented from taking part in. It’s been several months since the kid dragged his beaten-up body halfway across Hyrule and kicked Ganon’s ass, though they’re still feeling the after-effects of that particular calamity today. Mipha’s statue still looms over their heads, a reminder of what it means to die alone and far away from home.

“So,” Sidon starts, hearing his voice echoing in his ears like metal slicing through air. “What you’re saying is, I get to see Mipha again.”

Teba looks like he wants to grab one of the guards’ spears and stab Sidon in the face, but for what he’s worth, he reigns it in. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He grins. “I’m in.”

He tried to fight a lynel when he was fifteen. The domain had been overrun with monsters who had arrived for the pre-party to Ganon’s return, including an outstanding number of wizzrobes, several moblins, and a tall, intimidating figure which spat electricity from its pink-tongued mouth and whose name he couldn’t recall. While his father, the king, and his sister, the princess, breezed through the area like a lightning strike, reclaiming keeps and stabbing moblins with silver teeth so their generals could forge a path ahead, Sidon reveled in the wonder of being left unsupervised at four a.m. in the morning. And then heard the familiar, haunting roar of a lynel. And then decided to go and say hi.

It was a mistake, of course. The lynel was so tall he couldn’t make out the gear on its back. Its face was all squished up, like a birthday cake that had been stepped on, and its horns were too big for its thick, blocky nose. This was funny for all of five seconds. Then the lynel extracted a bow from that unknowable space behind it and aimed the sharp end of an arrow at his face, and it became a problem.

“H-h-h-hi,” said Sidon, holding up his Kid Spear, which was strictly for Kid Use Only, and had the offensive capabilities of a stick.

“RHOOARHGHHGHH,” said the lynel.

He jabbed the Kid Spear at the lynel’s leg. The lynel spat at him, though probably unintentionally, as it seemed preoccupied with the arrow it was trying to send into his face. It was stuck. The big scary lynel’s bow was stuck.

Emboldened by the stupid scary lynel’s broken bow, Sidon decided to try again. “Please go away, Mr. Lynel,” he said in his best and most charming Kid Prince voice, twirling his Kid Spear like a sweet jellyfish skewer.

“RHOAHOARHAGHOGHHHH,” said the lynel, who sounded significantly angrier than before.

“I understand,” Sidon said politely, and then closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way he had been taught to since he was old enough to speak, the way every child in Hyrule knew that there was a place for them to go to after they left this world behind). He braced for impact, which he hoped would be of the violent sort, earth-shattering and brisk enough to break his bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. He was fifteen, not five. This was Ganon’s era. Every living creature in Hyrule knew this, the way their ancestors woke up and knew which direction the sun would rise from. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When your people die. When the knight emerges from the woods with the sacred sword in his hand, and saves you all.

But none came. When he opened his eyes, and he did so reluctantly, adrenalin coursing through his veins like thunder, the world was pitch black. In place of the cool blue moon was his sister, her ceremonial gear glittering darkly, the Lightscale Trident glowing like a star in her right hand.

“Holy shit,” whispered Sidon the kid. Mipha stabbed the lynel in the face.

She hugged him when it was all over and they had put the moblins and the wizzrobes and the electric moblin (so that’s what it was! Terrifying) back to sleep. Their father was upset, but he was frequently upset at Sidon and so it didn’t bother him as much as it could have. Sidon was not Mipha. It was all right if he got things wrong, as long as his sister never did. Coincidentally, the Hylian princess had been in the area at the time of the attack, accompanied by a knight with blue eyes and a Sheikah warrior who looked like she would throw a knife at a fish for sport. It was a good thing Mipha had been at home, and not visiting one of the other tribes or hunting for crabs near Lurelin. It was a good thing she had intervened when she had, lest the pre-party become the real thing.

“Thank you,” said the Hylian princess, trying her best to smooth her brow and failing. She looked anxious, though she had only come to pass on her father’s word, though the word that she had brought was victory.

Mipha smiled at her with a face full of sun. “It is my pleasure.”

He wishes the egg could talk. If the egg could talk then Teba would have less reason to talk, and if Teba talked less then Sidon would have less of a raging headache, which which would make him less of an asshole, which would make their discussions go much more smoothly than the janky, sputtering mess they’ve been all week.

“As I was saying,” says Teba, continuing whatever train of thought he picked up on their way up to Goron City and then dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. As he does this, Death Mountain spits a chunk of lava out of its steaming gaping top, which lands a few inches shy of his breastplate. He hops backwards without missing a beat and begins fanning himself with one wing.

Riju stops fiddling with the diamond circlet in her hands for long enough to give him a look of inquiry. “As you were saying?”

“I can’t wait to see Daruk.” Yunobo scratches his arm. It makes a sound like two large boulders grinding together. Riju drops the circlet.

“You’re only going to see him for a short while,” Teba comments over the sound of the egg blowing its top at Riju and Sidon plugging his ears with his fingers. “No point getting all worked up about it.”

“You’re just as worked up yourself,” Riju counters. Patricia barks. Teba flinches.

This is true. There are two things Teba won’t shut up about. In ascending order of importance, they are 1) when they should depart for the alternate timeline in which they will prevent their respective ancestors from getting their spirits trapped in giant mechanical monsters for a hundred years, and 2) how incredible Revali is. Because Revali was the most powerful Rito warrior that ever walked the land (or flew over it, or blasted bomb arrows at it, whatever). Revali singlehandedly invented an entire style of aerial combat which involves launching yourself into the air with an updraft that defies the laws of the universe and then setting your surroundings on fire. Revali killed god.

Teba looks like he wants to go back to his wife and kid in Rito village. Good for him. Not all of them have bodies to put in coffins. “I just want to meet him once,” he says quietly.

Yunobo laughs, and it sounds like two extra large boulders grinding together. “Me too, brother.” He picks up the diamond circlet from the floor and puts it on his head like some kind of weird hat. “I’m going to tell Daruk how great he is. And then I’m going to go home.”

One time when they were much, much younger, before he woke up one morning and Mipha was three times his height, one of the guards brought back some durians. The durians were misshapen and spiky and smelled intimidating, though Sidon wouldn’t go as far as to say that the smell was unpleasant. The guard had obtained them from a merchant in the Faron region. He hadn’t meant to purchase them, but they were the last of her stock and she said she could only head home once she had sold everything. He empathized her.

At first they tried to open the durians with their hands, but this only produced several pricked fingers and left ominous and eerily substantial bloodstains everywhere, so someone brought out a spear, almost drove it through the table, and someone else brought out a carving knife. Halfway through the spectacle of watching one of the guards, who was thirty-seven and enjoyed collecting glowing stones as a hobby, attempt to de-spike an entire durian, the crowd parted abrutpyl.

“What are you all doing?” Mipha put her hand absently on Sidon’s head. He had been watching the ongoing debacle out of some kind of morbid curiosity, standing on tip-toes so he could peek over the top of the table, though now he had apparently been relegated to armrest.

“Trying to open this durian, your highness.”

Mipha laughed. His sister’s laugh was a delicate, heartrending affair, like trying to pull weeds from the bottom of a lake without breaking them at the stem. The weather at home was always more or less divine, but whenever Mipha laughed, Sidon swore it blasted a hole right through the clouds. If there were no clouds, then the hole appeared in the fabric of the sky instead. Mipha, at her brightest, was a walking catastrophe of sun.

Still chuckling a little, like she’d been made privy to a secret that none of them knew about, Mipha stepped up to the cutting board. “You have to do it like this,” she said cheerfully, digging her fingers into a seam in the durian’s shell like she’d been dealing with danger all her life.

Cue gasping. Cue the horrors of childbirth.

The durian was sweet. It was also a little goopy, but Sidon was no stranger to things which stuck to your fingers and refused to let go (he was one of those objects when it came to his sister, who he could rarely be found more than an arm’s length away from on any given day), so he felt for the little spiky fruit, and decided that he would make an effort to bring some back home when he went traveling himself in the future. While he examined the inside of the durian’s shell, which had been hollowed of fruit and had the texture of rough sandpaper, the guards crowded around Mipha and demanded that she share her secret to not getting stabbed to death by the fierce and terrifying durian. But either she didn’t know how to explain it to them, or they weren’t very good at listening, because she remained the only one capable of cracking open a durian with her bare hands for many, many years, up until she died while fighting a watery manifestation of Ganon inside the divine beast she had been told by the king of Hyrule to pilot to victory’s end. Then it was someone else’s turn to take over.

Painkillers for fish are a tricky affair. To begin with, charmingly little research has been conducted into the biology of the fish-person because the Zoras simply aren’t interested in how their bodies work, and while others have offered to do so in their place, among them several enthusiastic Sheikah researchers and one Hylian with a thing for huge glowing orbs, his people have never cared enough to give their consent. It’s a unique kind of apathy, one which stems from a place of privilege, or denial. They are, as a general statement of fact, very good at both.

“This will help.” Yunobo hands him a rock roast. Where did Yunobo get a rock roast from? Sidon frowns. They’re in the middle of the desert.

“Thanks,” Sidon says. Smiles. Kind of, like, holds the roast up to his mouth and gives it a sniff. It doesn’t smell half as good as durian. He puts it down.

It takes him several days to make sense of the convoluted sequence of events that Teba presented to him that day on the front door of the world he had rebuilt from scratch, surrounded by mystique and glamor and promising, in a breath of cold air, to bring his dead sister back to life. This makes it sound like he’s finished making sense of it all and will thus never be confused ever again, but if he’s to be entirely honest, he still doesn’t get it. He wants to. He’s scared to. He won’t look Teba in the eye.

“We should get going soon, don’t you think?” says Riju, who is twelve and somehow more put-together than all four of them combined. She pulls another book from the shelf and leaves it on the pile on the desk.

Yunobo shrugs loudly. “Doesn’t make a difference when we leave, does it? We could leave for Hyrule in twenty years, and we’d still end up at the same place.”

“But I want to save them,” Riju says earnestly. The pile behind her has been growing all afternoon, and will soon overtake her in height if she is not stopped. Mission preparation looks like archaeological excavation when you’re traveling backwards in time, and not forwards to some yet unknown destination. Ancient Sheikah records. Research journals. The writings of people who were obsessed with the events of a hundred years ago despite having no personal investment to speak of, and whose words carry with them a hint of reverence, even as they choreograph the funeral song of the old king. This is all that’s left of those ruins, aside from Link, who they’ve all quietly decided to keep uninformed of the current proceedings. Hyrule itself has been kept in the dark. No need for them to know about the maybes and the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. No need for more people to go crazy.

Sidon shuts the book in his hands with a thud. “But why?”

Riju’s eyes go wide. Drama queen. “Why what?”

Sidon opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. There’s a heat rash on the back of his neck which he can’t quite reach on his own. The elders had warned him about the desert, but the charm he received from Link has proven to be effective in all areas except for maintaining good skincare. He blinks dumbly at Riju, who has begun to flicker like the glassy surface of a pond. His eyes hurt.

“I mean, why do you.” His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. There’s something large and horrible stuck in his chest, and he can’t get it out. “Why do you want to save them?” There’s a durian in his rib cage. It must have lodged itself there when Teba glared at him like he was an idiot as he came face to face with the cruel reality of the universe, and it dawned on him like a dead body falling out of the sky that he would get to see Mipha one last time, and then he would have to come back. To a Hyrule without her. To the stupid stuck-up world that had to try again and again and again, coughing up blood and dragging itself through the dirt on bruised knees, before it could defeat the monster. “It’s not like they’ll come back to life,” he says, each word a silver knife in his mouth. “They’ll stay dead here. They’re already dead.”

Silence.

Riju has let everything go, including the diamond circlet, the topaz earrings, and three volumes sheathed in gold. Yunobo’s mouth is open so wide, you could stick your head inside and take a look around if you leaned in close enough. For the first time since he met him, Teba is at a loss for words. His chest rises and falls erratically, his hand on the bookshelf quivering, his eyebrows doing a little dance on his forehead. He’s sweating. Of course he is. They’re in the desert.

Riju, Hylia bless her soul, is the first to speak.

“It’s the spirit of things,” she says softly. She looks sadder than any twelve-year-old should ever have to look. But then and again, Sidon was barely old enough to hold a spear with both hands when his sister died and everything went to shit. Then and again, everything goes away eventually.

Sidon stares at her helplessly for a moment, gulping the humid air of the library like a fish out of water, then gives up and walks out of the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon blowing bubbles in the pool beside Kara Kara Bazaar while the other three continue their work, and then buys a durian from one of the vendors and hacks it open with his spear. You can’t crack open a durian with your bare hands, unless you’re Mipha, in which case you can do anything. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s gone.

When they were children and they got into trouble, his father would always scold Mipha far more harshly than Sidon. Mipha was the older sibling, after all. She should know better. This dynamic remained firmly established between them even as Mipha grew into her role as princess, future ruler, and eventually, champion. Of course, the reprimandings grew less stern, but Sidon had a penchant for winding up in places he wasn’t supposed to be in and Mipha had a penchant for being with him whenever this happened. He secretly resolved to pay her back when he got older and was finally able to stand up to his father, and therefore explain that most of the things they got into trouble for were his idea. He would be the one to weep at his father’s feet while his sister looked on with a horrified expression, and in that moment she would understand how much he loved her.

Then she died. You can’t tell the story of Mipha without this part. Mipha was a humble, kind girl, and then she died. Mipha could crack open a durian with her bare hands, and then she died. Mipha was the pride of their people, and then she died, and she died, and she died.

You can’t change the past with the wave of a hand. You’re not a bird. You’re not a fortune-teller. You’re a fish-person with an empty coffin for a sister, and in a few weeks’ time, you’re going to save her specter.

“...What if I brought her back with me?”

“Huh?”

“Hahajustkidding. No way I’d do that. Not a chance.”

“Um. Do you need painkillers?”

“Thanks, but they don’t work on me. I’m over a hundred years old, you see. Us Zoras, we’re different.”

The day before departure. They’re back at Zora’s domain. It’s raining. Teba is running through a checklist of items to bring with them which is so long, he has to hold it above his head to prevent it from touching the floor. Riju is feeding Patricia mandarin peels.

“You know, Sidon.”

Sidon looks up from his mandarin. “Mm?”

Yunobo grins at him. “Daruk’s my idol,” he says proudly. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” says Sidon, as enthusiastically as he can, because he genuinely wants to be happy for Yunobo who is finally going to meet his idol and has clearly dreamed about this moment for some time. He wants to be happy for all of them. He fucking wants to. This is a rescue mission, not the imprisonment Princess Zelda walked into in Hyrule castle, not the hundred-year nap Link took on the Great Plateau. This is a happy ending, even if it’s not theirs.

Daruk the idol. Urbosa the warrior. Revali the bird. Sidon pictures them in his head, the way Link described them to him once, his voice carrying across the water like beams of light.

“Mipha was—”

He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands, his nails still embedded in the soft skin of it, the white-tinged flesh peeking out like a wound. Outside, the rain keeps falling. A river of tears from the sky.

Yunobo tilts his head to the side. “Mipha was?”

Mipha was the pride of their people. Mipha was the first person he wanted to live forever. Mipha was the only one he knew who could crack open a durian with her bare hands, like she was peeling open the heart of a monster, only to reveal that it had been something soft and scared all along. Mipha was a flesh-and-blood person. Mipha was the light of their world. Mipha is an empty coffin with a name inscribed on the lid, a house with the lights off, a memory drenched in ocean.

Yunobo prods his shoulder, though he barely feels a thing. “Mipha was?” he repeats kindly, herding him along to the end of the line, to the boat at the edge of the water.

Sidon puts the mandarin away. He stares long and hard at Yunobo, and hopes that his eyes will convey the wound his body no longer knows how to carry.

“Mipha was my sister.”

Let’s say you’ve been entrusted with the future of your kingdom. There’s a bad guy coming, and everyone’s scared to death, so you learn how to pilot this big robotic elephant which shoots turrets of water like a machine gun, and you get really good at it, and when the bad guy arrives on your new friend’s birthday suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You’re trapped inside the giant elephant. You’re bleeding out all over the floor. Your chest hurts like something awful, and your vision is beginning to blur. Sensing your despair, the monster closes in on you, wielding that big blue trident like fury. It holds the sky up over your head, and as it does so you close your eyes. You send a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way you have been taught to since you were old enough to hold your little brother in your arms, the way every child in Hyrule knows that there is a place for them to go to after they leave this world behind). You brace for impact, which you hope will be the gentle sort, a slap to the wrist that’s conclusive enough to break your bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. You’re twenty, not five. This is the end of all things as you know it. Every living creature in Hyrule knows this, the way their ancestors woke up one day and knew that this world would come to ruin. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When everyone you’ve ever loved dies. When you walk into the mouth of the elephant, and the elephant changes its mind, and decides to keep you in its belly forever.

None arrives. You open your eyes slowly, hesitantly, fear a living memory in your bones, but you are not faced with the stinging end of a trident. In its place is a boy almost three times your height, his eyes glittering darkly, the spear in his right hand shining like a star.

He is not your brother. But, Hylia bless you all, he is.

So what can you say, when the evil has been defeated and you are standing on the balcony of the castle, smiling up at him through tears while this big overgrown baby stares at you like you’re the answer to the universe, except:

We’ll definitely meet again, won’t we?

He flinches, but you don’t ask, and he doesn’t say why. He pulls you into an earth-shattering, bone-crushing hug. It’s a beautiful day to be alive, the sun shining like sin, Hyrule’s beaten but stubbornly breathing carcass laughing up at you from the fields below. He takes your hands in his. He’s shivering. He’s shaking from head to toe.

Of course, he says in the kindest, saddest voice you’ve ever heard, though he has only come to pass on someone else’s words, though the word he has brought is salvation. From now on, I’ll always be by your side.

: : : : :

You smile at him with a face full of stars.

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misssophiachase · 3 years

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You Make My Heart Smile

So, happy (belated) birthday, Tina @tnapki Your edits make me smile (pardon the pun) and I wanted to thank you for that and everything you bring to the fandom.

I based it on your GORGEOUS EDIT

I also made it about food cause it’s SO you. On AO3 HERE

Also thanks to the gorgeous Kait @an-awesome-wavve for being amazing and my part brainstorm, part beta, part researcher and part undercover partner in crime.

Renowned Chef Klaus Mikaelson has a bad reputation until he meets food blogger Caroline Forbes and has no idea how to handle her or the unfamiliar feelings she evokes, especially that annoying ability to make him smile.

3 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 3pm

“I’m not going to do some stupid interview, you know I have other, more important things to do, right?”

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do interviews. He didn’t need to because his accomplishments spoke for themselves. He hadn’t slogged away in kitchens since he was twelve and worked his way through culinary school and some of the best restaurants to waste his time.

Being a world-renowned chef owning not one, but four, three-Michelin-starred restaurants across the globe meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

But yet here she was running his life.

Still.

“Like yell at me? I mean, you’ve been doing that since we were little so I guess it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. ”

“I knew I should have never mixed business and family,” he snapped. “You always throw our childhood back in my face as an excuse to insult my life choices.”

“Because it’s too easy not to,” she pouted, flicking a stray, blonde lock over her shoulder. “And, while I am unfortunately related to your sorry ass, I am also your publicist and this interview is good for your career.”

“I don’t need publicity.”

“Correction, you do need publicity,” she argued, her fork now attacking the very veal he’d cooked with more fervour than needed.

“Easy on the product, little sister,” Klaus growled, his protectiveness for his art on full display.

“Oh, silly me I thought it was already dead,” she shot back, tartly. “And before you interrupted, I was going to say that, yes maybe you shouldn’t need publicity given your career achievements, but that was before you dropped an entree on the food critic’s lap from the Chicago Tribune, fired your sous chef in front of the entire restaurant and insulted Gordon Ramsey on national television.”

“Ramsey is a sell out, I stand by my comments,” he muttered. “The critic had it coming and, now you mention it, so too did that sorry excuse for a sous chef.”

“You realise people call you the angry chef, right?”

“Better than the naked chef I suppose.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Klaus wasn’t in the business for gimmicks or to secure his own cooking program. He took his food seriously and there was nothing wrong with that.

“At least people like Jamie Oliver,” she replied, arching her eyebrows knowingly. “Anyway, there’s no point in arguing because she’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Please tell me you didn’t just schedule an interview without my permission?”

1717 N. Halsted St, 3:10pm

“What’s with the expression of impending doom, Care Bear?” He asked, lugging his camera equipment as they walked up the block toward Alinea.

“What have I told you about calling me that?”

“Not to do it but it’s too fun not to, Care Bear.” Given his general maturity level, Caroline decided it was a losing battle and she had more important things on her mind.

“Anyway, it’s not doom,” she muttered. “It’s just the overwhelming desire not to do this interview but given I don’t want to get fired and also pay my rent, there’s no other option.”

“Is someone afraid of the angry chef?”

“Oh, puh-lease, I’m not afraid. Although, I might not be able to bite my tongue if he decides to insult me like he did Gordon Ramsey.”

Caroline wasn’t one to judge but his indiscretions were well-known and well-documented. Although, chefs with egos weren’t an entirely new phenomenon to the industry or to Caroline given interviewing them was her job.

“You and I both know Ramsey deserved that dressing down, if anything Mikaelson earned my respect that day.” Caroline couldn’t argue with that.

Although this one was another kind of beast.

The effortlessly attractive kind.

For Caroline, this was an unsettling prospect. Until she reminded herself why she was here in the first place.

Caroline loved food. Sometimes, she thought, more than life itself.

So, when she became a food blogger after graduating with a journalism degree from Northwestern, it wasn’t a surprise. She was currently the senior blogger at popular food blog Delicious.

“You love food and writing about it,” Was Enzo reading her mind? “How about instead of focusing on the negative, remember that this will be your biggest interview yet. Think about all of the exposure this will garner.”

The upper echelons of Delicious had decided that an interview with Klaus Mikaelson would be a big scoop. Caroline was all for interviewing chefs about their food and the passion behind it but she knew her editor wanted something less about his craft and more about his bad boy reputation.

“Yes, but I want to write about food, not produce tabloid fodder.”

“Just think, once you do this then maybe you’ll have enough of a following to start your own blog and write what you want and not what someone tells you to do.”

“Mmmm, you do have a point.”

“Of course I do because Enzo knows everything. Also, take me with you because you’d be lost without me, sweetcheeks.”

“Third person, huh? That ego of yours knows no bounds, Lorenzo.”

“You know it, Care Bear,” he joked, flashing his most dazzling smile. “Well, looks like we’re here.”

“Looks like it,” she murmured, noting the intimidating sign overhead and wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “Here goes nothing.”

3:15pm

“Caroline Forbes?”

“You must be Rebekah and this is my photographer Lorenzo St John.”

Klaus, who’d been throwing a temper tantrum not one minute ago, found himself looking up into the blue eyes of one Caroline Forbes. Suddenly, all of the white noise of the moment fell away and it was just the two of them in the room together and the blonde in question was looking at him expectantly.

It was paralysing.

But good paralysing he decided.

“Nik?” Rebekah questioned. Now they were both looking at him. Had he zoned out and not realised it? Well, if so, this was all kinds of embarrassing. “Caroline is the senior blogger for Delicious and she’s here for that interview, you know the one we talked about earlier?”

Yeah, ten minutes earlier, he thought to himself doing everything he could not to bite back in front of the new arrival.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Mikaelson, I have to say I’m a big fan of your…”

“Look, it’s not going to be possible, I have to prep for dinner service,” he lied, although regretted it immediately when he noticed her expression. Klaus wasn’t used to being nice, it wasn’t in his DNA and usually it didn’t bother him.

Until now.

Klaus decided to blame it on the foreign feelings she was causing. As soon as he got some distance between them it would be fine, especially that vanilla scent he couldn’t ignore given it was infiltrating his first line of defence.

Klaus liked women, in fact he slept with many when his busy schedule permitted, but that was sex and nothing else. Just the way he liked it, easy and unemotional.

“Why don’t we multitask then? I’m happy to help. ” Her voice was light and melodic. Klaus was hoping it wasn’t going to sound so enticing. He also wasn’t expecting that response. “I worked in a restaurant kitchen for years, I can do dishes, polish cutlery and peel a mean potato and an onion, well almost without crying.”

Why was he buoyed by that ridiculous statement and increasingly trying not to flash her a goofy smile?

Klaus didn’t smile. He just didn’t. Ever.

This wasn’t how he saw his day going at all. He was going to kill Rebekah. Before he could reply, the current subject of his ire spoke.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” she grinned. “How about Lorenzo and I make ourselves scarce then?”

“It’s actually Enzo, darling, you sound a bit too much like my mother and my oppressive boss Care Bear here.”

Klaus hadn’t even realised there was someone else in the room up until this point but it was clear Caroline wasn’t too impressed by his nickname or the oppressive part. Maybe they had more in common than he thought?

Care Bear. Klaus thought it was adorable. Then he could feel it, that idiotic urge to smile again.

Before he could object again, Rebekah had made a quick exit with the photographer and she was just standing there. Klaus could feel the awkward tension between them and knowing he’d caused it wasn’t helping matters. But he didn’t know any other way to act.

Then the words he’d struggled with just tumbled out.

“How do you feel about fish?”

Not the most suave topic or question but this was his ‘uncomfort’ zone.

“Depends on the context.”

“The context?”

“I mean, if you think I can clean, fillet and debone a fish, you’ve obviously overestimated my cooking talents.”

Klaus had to practically eat the smile that was threatening to appear. Again.

“Everyone has to start somewhere and get their hands a bit dirty, otherwise what’s the point?” He advised. “But, if you don’t want to then…”

“Oh, I never back away from a challenge, chef,” she promised.

Again, the pesky smile was hovering just beneath the surface.

Leading her towards the kitchen, Klaus told himself that preparing a fish was definitely going to keep his emotions at bay and also block out that perfume which was throwing him off balance.

4:45pm

“Why do I feel like this was a ploy to distract me from my interview?” Caroline asked, dipping the fish into egg wash and then flour as instructed by her cooking mentor for the day..

This was not how she saw her day going. It was surreal to say the least. This guy was supposed to be an ogre but Caroline was realising he was something else entirely.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back. “But you filleted that fish like a professional, maybe you’ve missed your true calling?”

“I suppose I had a semi-good teacher,” she admitted wryly.

“Wow, tell me what you really think, Forbes.”

Caroline was trying not to to get too caught up in the moment but Klaus Mikaelson had challenged every judgment she’d ever harboured about the temperamental chef. He’d been unusually kind and patient.

The one thing she’d noticed was that his overall demeanour didn’t match his expression.

He didn’t smile.

Not once.

A few times, Caroline could swear it was close or maybe she was just imagining it?

“So, why do you like food?” It was a question she wasn’t expecting. Especially seeing as she was the interviewer and him her subject.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?” He was silent for a moment, almost like he was contemplating it. “But I get the impression you don’t like that question much?”

“I’d much prefer to hear your story first, call it a warm-up.” Clearly he was nervous and Caroline was happy to oblige if it helped.

“My grandmother,” she smiled knowingly, visions of her nana filling her head. “When I was younger I’d go to her house most weekends and we’d cook together. She could make anything and everything. She died last year and it’s been tough without her but at least I still have those memories.”

Caroline didn’t mean to get personal, especially with the so-called “angry chef” but for some reason she felt nothing but comfort in his presence, even if he didn’t smile.

“What was her specialty?”

“Banana cream cheesecake,” she smiled, the taste of it rushing back in all its delicious glory.

“Hard to beat,” he murmured. “Have you ever eaten a Bananas Foster? My restaurant in New Orleans does a modern version over flame. According to my maitre’d there’ve apparently been a few proposals over dessert.”

“Over your dessert?”

“Someone sounds dubious. Let’s just say it’s fireworks but without the danger. Well, unless the tablecloth is accidentally set on fire but the fire department down there are pretty good first responders I understand.”

“I just didn’t take you for the romantic dessert type.”

“I suppose there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me then.”

“So, why do you like food then?”

“Well, of course I like food, I wouldn’t be a chef otherwise,” he shared, moving swiftly in behind her and taking the fillets from her hand and placing them in the hot pan, Caroline was trying not to react to his touch or that welcoming and heady mixture of sandalwood, spices and soap . “But one interview isn’t going to even begin to answer that question.”

He had a point and Caroline knew it. How could you sum up what food meant to you in one interview?

“So, what exactly are you trying to say? I do have a deadline to meet.”

“How about we schedule a follow-up interview tomorrow morning? Dinner service is imminent and if you stay I’m going to have to ask you to do more than fillet a fish. My pastry chef Lucien is also very needy, requires constant gratification, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

“Not gonna lie I’m intrigued and by that I’m talking about Lucien. Did you insult his choux pastry or something?”

“Not if I want my patrons to eat dessert this century. But, if you insist on staying, there’s a whole pile of onions there with your name on it and we can call it even.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He raised his left eyebrow by way of response. Caroline was trying to ignore just how good he looked, even if there was no smile forthcoming.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Tomorrow morning but that’s it otherwise my editor might fire me.”

“Great, let’s make it 10:30, you can poach an egg, right? And I also expect extra crispy bacon.”

Caroline knew she was possibly in trouble and not because he was tasking her with cooking. Enzo would also parrot that particular concern but she couldn’t help herself.

Today was probably the best day she’d had in a long time and she didn’t want it to end. She told herself that she’d return tomorrow and get her interview, that’s all she wanted from him, right?

4 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 11am

Klaus Mikaelson was in uncharted territory.

That’s what scared him the most.

Caroline Forbes was seated across from him at his best, window table in jeans and a cream sweater, her plate empty and a very full but satisfied look on her face. Klaus decided to add that to his favourite expressions file. It was fast filling up and he’d only known her for 20 hours.

He wasn’t this guy.

At all.

But she’d consumed his thoughts since their first meeting and all night through dinner service and beyond. He’d barely slept, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been looking forward to seeing her as soon as she left.

The only problem? Not smiling because it was that difficult when she was in his presence. He had his reasons of course.

“So, why do you love food? And no arguments given I poached a mean egg and also let you have a reprieve yesterday.”

“The bacon could use some work, just saying.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to cook itself yourself, Mikaelson. Are you always such a critic? Last time I checked that was my job. Also enough with the distractions. So?”

“My mum,” he admitted quietly, even if it took a minute or so to verbalise. For some reason her opening up about her grandmother had filled him with courage. He didn’t do feelings or talk about them for that matter. “She cooked with me practically from birth until she got too sick last year.”

Those last words wobbled, it was unfortunate as it was expected. He’d struggled for a long time and losing his mother had been difficult.

“What was her specialty?” Klaus recognised the question he’d asked himself yesterday, but the fact her hand squeezed his at the same time filled him with the confidence and warmth he needed.

“Rosemary braised lamb shanks, it was her favourite protein. I’ve tried to pay homage on all my menus since.”

‘So, that explains the Saddle of Elysian Fields Farm Lamb with Babaganoush, Romano Beans and Harissa Jus on your menu then?”

“You’ve done your homework clearly?”

“That and the fact it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, and I have to say it’s really nice.”

Klaus didn’t even realise he’d let it slip but suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t want to hide it, not with her.

“She used to tell me to smile all the time because I was too serious, you could say it’s something I’ve battled with ever since she passed.”

“All the more reason to smile, even just to introduce those dimples to the general public. Has anyone ever told you they should come with a warning?”

“No, but more than happy to discuss further.”

“If only, but I have to get going.” Klaus felt almost deflated that she was leaving as quickly as she’d arrived. Maybe he’d shared too much. “Deadlines and all that. But if you could just consult the email I sent confirming the details of our interview that would be great.”

Klaus felt disillusioned, he’d opened himself up to someone and she was running away. She was out the door before he could even move from his seat. Checking his emails was the last thing he felt like doing, but his hand went to work on his cell checking it anyway and dreadfully waiting for its contents.

“As of three minutes ago, I no longer working for Delicious. It wanted a story I wasn’t prepared to write. I like your smile and dimples too much and I also want a Bananas Foster.”

His chest constricted as he read each word and his grin was unmistakable. It didn’t take long for him to reply.

“You make my heart smile.”

Tabloids would report months later that famed food blogger Caroline Forbes married famed chef Klaus Mikaelson in rural England after proposing over a dessert of Bananas Foster in New Orleans.

#you make my heart smile #happy birthday #tnapki #klaroline fanfiction #misssophiachase

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frienderbee · 3 years

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known Tommyinnit “quote book”quotes

“Let me out or I’ll get married in rage!”

“I don’t care for the fan cams, I care for the primes”

“Only people who’s parents make over 200k a year know what a sausage fattener is”

“I know damn well what satisfies me”

“There’s only so many green up arrows you can get before your heart becomes one big red youtube down arrow”

“I’m always loud to attract the opposite sex, I’m like a butterfly that can talk”

“She didn’t make eye contact with me once Wilbur, that’s what I liked”

“She answered me! Pokimane answered me! I’m a man now!”

“Wilbur you must remember, I am just a child”

“When I’m a dad, I will tell my son things. I will say son, don’t check me indirects, son”

“Oh Wilbur, my heart is a ten of ten”

“Sorry I can’t hear you over WAP. Why doesn’t she have many clothes Wilbur?”

“Scott, remember this, right? Remember this for the rest of your life. Just stop, grow the fuck up.”

“You’re quoting me but I’m stood right next to you. It’s like parents evening again”

“The quote book is a gift of life, just like hearing and death”

“Dogs got jim jams on wilbur!”

“No Mr Beast! Stop giving your money away to people! Please Mr Beast you deserve keep some! Mr Beast please! Keep some of your money!”

“Stop being grumpy, I’m not going to talk to grumpy wilbur. I’m going to go have another poo”

“In all honesty, I think i’d make a pretty bad shark”

“Straight people-” ?????

“Gogy, your name is one letter away from orgy. What does this mean?”

“We’re not here to be friends wilbur, we stream to make money”

“What is witness protection”

“I actually don’t know how much i earn. What am i going to use money for? Wipe my arse in public toilets. Yeah! Amen! Amen! Amen!”

“When I see American, and they don’t find my content funny, I think, I don’t find your continent funny”

“I’m actually very physically weak”

“Just killed a woman! Feeling good”

#i might have missed some #but i tried #why did i even do this #i need a life #tommyinnit #dsmp

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starsandsteelandbrokenglass · 3 years

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Retellings Ranked: Classic Literature

We all had to read some classic literature in school (or at least we were supposed to), some good, some bad, some that we forgot as soon as we took the test. There’s lots of literary retellings out there, and as always I have some thoughts on a few. (Also, sorry there’s no Pride and Prejudice retellings on here I just don’t like Pride and Prejudice that much.)

(Please don’t come after me for rating your favorite retelling badly, reading is subjective, etc. Post periodically updated.)

A Good Time!

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White- We read Frankenstein junior year of high school and it was difficult but very enjoyable. And I LOVE a good feminist retelling. Elizabeth is such a sidelined character in the original, seeing her perspective was great! Also just a lot of interesting dynamics and issues in conversation.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman- This middle-grade retelling of The Jungle Book is spookier and less racist than the original, but just as much fun. Neil Gaiman delivers again with a creepy, delightfully morbid, family-friendly tale.

Beauty Queens by Libba Bray- Lord of the Flies but with teenage beauty pageant contestants. Read this a while ago, so may not hold up quite as well as I remember, but there’s at least some diverse representation, and a lot of girls supporting girls which is always excellent.

I Killed Zoe Spanos by Kit Frick- This one brings Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca into the modern age. Frick works in a lot of modern elements, and I really liked the way she framed and handled the mystery. Not quite as gothic-spooky as the original, but definitely a fresh and fascinating new take!

Pros/Cons

My Plain Jane by Cynthia Hand, Jodie Meadows, and Brodi Ashton- Jane Eyre, but with a super casual voice. Gothic atmosphere, ghosts. Struggles with some success to deal with some of the weirder aspects of Jane Eyre. You have to lean into the vibes, but if you can do that, there’s a lot to enjoy.

The Court of Miracles by Kester Grant- Full disclosure, I’ve never actually read Les Mis, but it’s one of my grandmother’s favorite musicals so I’ve seen it onstage like 3 times and the movie. Extremely neat world building. Way too many love interests. Very definite character portrayals that I didn’t always agree with, but followed.

The Madman’s Daughter trilogy by Megan Shepherd- These books use the same characters to retell The Island of Doctor Moreau, The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and Frankenstein, which is a lot, but mostly works? I did like books 1 and 2 more than 3, unfortunately, but some of the crossover is really neat. There is at least one love triangle though :(

His Hideous Heart edited by Dahlia Adler- A short story collection with 13 tales based on Edgar Allen Poe works. As always with short story collections, there were some I liked much more than others, but there was a lot of rep from marginalized groups, and some clever twists.

I Don’t Remember Anything, But I Did Rate It 3/5 Stars

Brightly Burning by Alexa Donne- Jane Eyre in space. I’m a big fan of Jane Eyre, wrote my first-ever research paper on it. This retelling did not make much of an impression on me, I guess.

...Pass

Anna K by Jenny Lee- Okay I feel very bad putting this one in this category because I...have not read Anna Karenina. Probably, I would have liked this more if I had. But I did not vibe with the plot. Love to see diversity, but this one was not for me.

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys- I feel like this novel did important work by opening up Bertha Mason’s story in the 1960s. However, I did not actually like it. Also, kind of racist, which, you know, the 60s, but not great.

Want more of my thoughts? Check out Retellings Ranked: Greco-Roman Mythology, Cinderella, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast

#retellings ranked #mine #book recs #sort of #retellings

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

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Bred For Blood - Part 17 - The White Flag

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of blood/injuries/death/weapons/coma/unconsciousness in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: This one’s for Team Cluney. I really hope you guys enjoy reading! This part was very exciting for me to write for many reasons. Please reblog/like/comment if you like my work and want to give me a virtual pat on the head. I would really appreciate it, please and thank you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

The doctor stomped over the rocky terrain, muttering and snickering to himself as the sun cast blistering rays on their backs. The heat never bothered him, only tanned his skin to a deep brown shine. It was the walking that made his knees burn. He'd long since shed his white coat to cover the bulk of the man draped over Rudie's wiry-haired hump, trudging along at leisure. The unconscious hunter he'd found needed all the protection available from the vicious star reaching its highest point in the sky.

The doctor halted his gangly steed every hour to force a measure of water down the burnt man's ululating throat. He often succeeded, and the hunter swallowed without issue, but sometimes, the water came back up as white foam, trickling down the sides of his face and down his neck. The onset of heatstroke turned his skin apple-red, and the doctor sprayed him down with water and gusts of hot air produced by a tattered paper fan he carried with him to ward off flies. Rudie attracted the pests who made a chariot out of the man on the camel's back. They fled their caravan whenever the doctor stopped to check on his patient and settled back in for the ride after he threw the stained coat back over the hunter's burnt shoulders. This went on until nightfall when the dry land showed signs of mercy, and water and shale gave way to the soil.

Rudie let out a guttural complaint when they reached a crop of tall, spindly trees. The diamond-shaped leaves provided shade. The doctor tethered the bleating animal, pressing his finger to his lips for a silence that would not come. Upon unsaddling the groaning man, Rudie threw his hump and sent Axel slumping to the ground, his deadweight at odds with a lengthy fall. His head cracked on a root, and a dusting of earth dried his palette, clinging to everything pink in his mouth. The camel clopped away from the whining mass who'd hitched a ride on his back, and in his wobbling dance, mashed the smallest of Axel's fingers into the soil.

"Rudie! You bumbling old idiot! You gaffer! Shoo!"

The beast side-stepped, snorting and sputtering, indifferent to the further damage done to the man. He shook his proud head, throwing ropes of spit that webbed his lashes. The doctor punished the creature by re-wrapping Axel's hand after a stern disinfecting, withholding the proverbial oats until the animal wandered away to dine on low-hanging leaves. Rudie chuffed whenever the doctor came to retrieve supplies from the riding satchel.

"That wasn't very nice, Rude. This man is our patient! We don't trample the patients. You've no idea the level of harm you caused! He'll be lucky if we don't have to amputate, and you don't have thumbs, so you're even more useless!"

Rudie wrapped his leathery lips around a clutch of grass and ripped it free, chewing and turning away from his master and the unconscious fellow. The camel minded his business and relieved himself on a nearby rock, huffing and chomping any strand of green he sniffed.

Axel vomited throughout the night. The doctor gave up his rest to make sure the man lying comatic didn't swallow his tongue. Then came the shivering and sickly shade of purple flaking his lips. Flaps of the doctor's paper fan spread droplets over his inflamed skin, another courtesy at the behest of his sore arm. Still, Axel moaned and scratched at the earth beneath him in bloody heat and delirium.

"If you can hang on until tomorrow, son, perhaps we'll find some proper shade and build a hut. Hm? How's that sound? Shade and water. For now, just rest, and don't die on me."

When the sun came up, the doctor cleaned Axel using the rest of the clean water from his reserve and stitched the open flesh splitting his eyebrow in two.

"That'll leave a nasty scar. Not that you need any more ruggedness in your act. You're just a lost soldier, sonny. But maybe one day you'll make a brilliant assistant. Better than Rudie, I hope. He hasn't even apologized for breaking your finger. Lookit him over there, shitting all over the camp, the scoundrel. But I'm the one with the oats; therefore, I make the rules!"

"M-muh... muuuh."

"Ah, in the worst of times, we still call our mothers."

"Mmph. Muh—"

"I wonder what's on the other side of those trees," the doctor said, shading his eyes with his hand, peering to the West. "You look well-travelled, sonny. Any ideas? Hate to run into any of those yawners, not knowing when your last shot was. But I suppose I shouldn't expect any valuable input from a man who can't look me in the eye."

After patching him up, the man hauled Axel to a stand and hoisted him onto the camel's back using a tree for leverage and a series of ropes to fasten him down. Once secured to Rudie's hump, the doctor took a few minutes to catch his breath. "Dunno how many more times I can get you up there, son. You must learn how to walk soon. Or I'll build you a sleigh. But that might take some time."

Far off above the foggy treeline, a sheet of ashy cloud broke to reveal bright blue sky. The doctor liked the look of cerulean and the absence of sand, so the begrimed trio lumbering through thick bush where dew still clung to the undersides of the leaves. The doctor went ahead, collecting globules before they evaporated. Rudie answered the doctor's constant rhetoric with wild groans that muffled Axel's whimpering, and they led their procession over uncertain ground.

"I reckon there's nothing but more trees over that ridge, Mr. Soldier. Maybe some mountains we can find a crevice to hide out in. Just until you get your strength back. The only thing I worry about is those damn yawners. Rudie and I will be safe, but you... I'll scout ahead to make sure it's clear. It'll rack up daylight, but you'll thank me when you're not a bubbling pile of soldier juice. Don't worry, sonny. They didn't immunize me for no reason! I count myself among the elites, but that doesn't mean I fancy myself better than you or more deserving of life. We're all in this, you see. Brights and Uns... We're still together, despite it all. They may have tried to kill you, but look at you now! Alive and well. Isn't that a slap in the face? They send you out to war and hope you never come back. They don't even have the decency to immunize you. What a world we live in."

Rudie let out a gaseous bellow. The doctor whipped around and pointed his walking stick at the quadruped. "Don't interrupt, you vile sow. Nobody needs a camel's opinion."

"Ma... Ma."

"We'll look for your mama after we get you looking presentable. Hang on tight, we're going uphill!"

As the ridge climbed, the trees grew denser. The doctor had to guide his camel through a maze of mossy trunks. Thin, whip-like branches prodded at Axel's tender skin. What leafy arms brushed Rudie's head bent back and snapped against the hunter's raw shoulders. Axel didn't notice, lost in the chimeric slurry of recent injuries. They maneuvered over stones and wove between crumbling stumps, avoiding the deadfalls. The steepled ground sloped upward like a great brown ramp of torn earth. Through the thickness, they muttered, minding their footwork, up and up, stopping here and there so the doctor could take in a few wheezing breaths. The camel—finally wary of obstacles—blew wind and groaned, hesitant on the incline.

"Boy, there had better be some more forgiving land over this ledge. I don't think it's workable to keep climbing. We might have to turn back, depending on what I see at the top. Fingers crossed for a lake. A bath would do me good," said the doctor, fanning his underarms and thighs with the paper fan.

"What do you say, Mr. Soldier? Should we keep going? See if there's anything worthwhile over that lip?"

"Muh."

"That's what I thought. You may not be the finest soldier I've ever met, but you're persistent, and that's key. Come on, fellas. Let's pray for water, and up we go! Can't be worse than the blasted desert."

~*~

Ivar's mood reflected his recent successes in bed. When Trinity brought his meal, he thanked her, even asking about her morning and if she was sleeping all right and eating properly. Trinity laughed nervously, sensing a test, and answered with a practiced air of casualty. Did he know of the plan they'd executed to get Zed in to see him? Was his toothy smile a front? Despite her unease, she humoured the leader and left when he dug into his stew and fresh bread. Trinity also noted Zed's absence, and with the King in lively spirits, assumed everything had gone well with the plan.

Ivar inhaled his late breakfast and dressed for comfort to walk the courtyard. With a bounce in his step, he traversed the throat of the Chrysalis, emerging on the other side to a nest bereft of activity. The morning stalls had cleared out, their occupants and merchants returned to their hovels. Even the young ones—usually at play in the courtyard by now—were nowhere in sight.

Ivar passed by the last remaining group gathered around a low podium, whispering over their berry reductions and leafy salads. Like a cluster of threatened barnacles, each mouth clamped as Ivar strode past. He held his head forward, flexing his palette to clear his airways. None of them made a sound until he was far enough away. Their chattering was undiscernible as distant chirping birds. He stopped at the incline of a foothill, spinning to catch them staring at the back of his head. They snatched their eyes away and made like they weren't gawking.

That wasn't the only peculiar thing that happened to Ivar that morning. Since his prolonged absence, the people seemed to have grown used to keeping to themselves. There was no merriment in the air, only sterile drafts pouring in from the filtration system. Ivar shivered from the brisk air, stopping to consider paying Zed a visit at her apartment. A morbid urge pulled him along, and he continued his walk. Ivar waited until somebody approached him—whether it a man or child—to greet him with customary courtesy. Still, nobody shuffled forward to ask him about his day or to offer him a portion of their recent gardening.

Ivar reached the frosted glass doors to the lab and stood still, thick hands hovering next to his narrow hips. Frozen in place, Ivar bit the tip of his tongue. Something told him Zed was inside the lab, and if he wished to see her, he had to set foot beyond the parameters of his expertise. The lab always put him in a bitter mood. It was the only place in the village that wasn't for him. Though he could visit any corner of Kinderfeld he wanted, he'd never felt welcome in the laboratory. The floors and surfaces' sterility made him cower from touching anything, and the lifeless stares he received from the few staff only reminded him of the responsibilities he'd shunned in favour of hedonism. None of them ever begrudged him his appetites, but he was confident they whispered of his ineptitude behind his back.

He wondered if Zed ever talked about him or if she'd ever vocalized displeasures regarding his leadership. Her request from the day before echoed in the corners of his mind, festering and swelling each hour they were apart. There was a bitter drop of ulterior motive in Zed's visit, and he let it slide down the back of his throat when she asked him to open the gate. But they'd made love, and that was more than Ivar expected. In his heart of hearts, he'd feared Zed would demand more; to let her fly the nest in search of Axel, but she'd taken his refusal graciously and kissed him all the same. Still, a nagging suspicion remained. Something was circulating in the air, whipping about the courts and apartments, squeezing under doorways and filling the citizens with doubts.

A stranger on his own land, Ivar lowered his eyes to the ground and turned away from the lab before he recognized any more scrutinizing glances. He powered along, ignoring the guards, their dutiful nods, cutting over the knolls as fast as his muscular thighs could take him without breaking into a run. The loneliness chased him back to his palace, and even its mouth gaped in question.

Ivar noticed Sheraya nearby, spreading dark red petals, a gained cigar of smoking sage held between her fingers. He craved nicotine the moment the fumes peppered his nostrils. Tears coursed down her round cheeks, though she made no sobs, no whimpers. There was only gentle muttering under her breath and more tears. The king stood waiting for her to acknowledge him and then realized she had no intention of breaking her prayer mantra.

Shunned, Ivar turned away, retreating to his house of lush fabric and solitude where he should never have left.

~*~

Vee insisted Zed stay put while he fetched them dinner. Their setting was the top floor of the greenhouse where he'd played cards and got drunk with his brother some nights. Nobody ever bothered them up there. Zed sat in waiting, enjoying the greenery, the twisting vines and canary yellow zucchini blooms. She stretched an arm out to pluck a flower and nibble its petals. Her stomach gurgled for heavier fare, so she ate another. Vee didn't keep her waiting long after, showing up with a basket of seed-crusted bread and a bowl of sliced potatoes slathered in basil paste and cooked to a crisp. For dessert, he brought dried fruit and freshly harvested cashews.

Moonlight vaulted through the trees, defusing over the glass and casting milky shadows on the greenhouse floor. The air was moist with freshly irrigated soil. Baked in the dimness, Zed couldn't take her eyes off the man sitting in front of her. He'd brought with him the game from their youth, but neither of them suggested opening the box. They smiled as they ate, breathing in the deep aromas and savouring their food together. And in the balmy atmosphere decked in silver light, Zed swore Vee was his brother's twin. Her heart shuddered in remembrance. It was what brought them together; the shared sense of guilt and the strengthening suspicion they'd both lost someone, both failed and scorned by the people who'd invested too much faith in their competence. Zed felt at peace beside him.

The scientist was still a welcome member of the village, hence his aptitude for finding rarer delicacies like wine and ripe figs. They split the skins and scooped out the sweet innards, indulging their tongues on the fruit as if it was the richest of luxuries.

"You know what I would absolutely love to eat again?" Zed asked, sucking seeds from between her teeth.

"Popsicles," Vee answered.

"Close, but no. Chocolate ice cream. I'd kill for some chocolate ice cream right now. "

Vee shook his head. "No way. Strawberry all the way."

"A hot fudge sundae with peanuts and a big maraschino cherry."

"Peanut butter sauce."

"Oh, my God. Don't say that," Zed groaned.

"It's so good. I can't remember the last time I had ice cream. Remember when you could walk a couple blocks in the Summer and buy an ice cream cone?"

Zed smiled, but the thought pricked her memory. "The last time I got ice cream was with my Dad. I got the biggest chocolate sundae, with peanut butter cups and chocolate sprinkles. He told me there was a full day-and-a-half's worth of calories in it, but I didn't care. It was after a soccer game. I didn't like soccer, but if I went to practice every week and scored at least one goal, he'd take me out for ice cream. Two goals meant I got ice cream and five dollars."

Zed sighed, continuing, "I hate thinking about the last times. Like at one point, you did something for the very last time. The last trip for ice cream. The last time you told someone you loved them."

"If you hate thinking about last times, then why are you doing it right now?" Vee asked, eyes blank as discs.

She grimaced, reaching out to touch the toe of her shoe to his, then softening her face. "I can't help it sometimes. Don't tell me you've never thought about how it used to be. You don't have to look at everything so logically."

"I don't," Vee said. "I just rather not think about those times."

"I'm sorry. Is it?—Never mind."

"My fiancé and my kid? Yes. It's always them."

Zed set her dish aside and scooted beside Vee, pressing her back against the wooden barrier of the melon patch, mirroring his position, her mouth just as dead grim as his.

"You seem to handle it well enough. But I understand. I think everyone lost something important to them," Zed offered.

Vee sighed, turning his face to the floor, cutting off the glistening whites of his eyes from view. "Found out she was pregnant the night before I left to work for the army."

"The army?"

"Yes. I had a knack for inventing. You've seen the ammunition I designed for Axel. And it takes a special gun to fire something that lethal without complication. They wanted that kind of technology and offered me a nauseating amount of money to oversee mass production. The only smart thing I ever did was refuse to sell myself. It cost me my family, but I can say with certainty Axel is the only person besides me who's fired one of them. Could you imagine what the world would be like if those had gotten into the wrong hands?"

Zed bottled talk of acid and bloodshed with a shiver and a firm hand on Vee's wrist. "Enough of that. Please. Tell me about her—your fiancé. Let's just... Remember them fondly. I don't want to think about the bullshit out there."

"You'd rather stay inside these bubbles, ignoring a second societal collapse in the making?"

"Yes. I'd rather enjoy my time here with you, listening to nicer stories. This is all that's left. I don't want to think about where we went wrong or right. Let's just talk about what made us happy."

Vee nudged her shoulder. "Why can't we talk about what makes us happy now?"

She giggled and rested her temple on his shoulder. Vee curled his wrist around her knee, and their fingers intertwined. He leaned his head on hers like they had in his apartment before Lora caught them, this time with his heart pumping in double-time.

"What makes you happy now?" Zed asked him.

"Not talking about dead relatives."

"Okay, true. Let's not. So... What are you content with?"

"You," Vee blurted.

Zed's chest tightened. Vee let go of her hand and angled his torso toward her. "I'm sorry. It's difficult for me not to... Stick to you. If I'm honest... You look like her, Lea. I really hate how much you remind me of her. And I don't want to use you to fill the void. It's wrong, but I can't help it. Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how much I lost. And you're so understanding. You don't have all these expectations."

"Vee—"

"I don't want you to think I'm coming onto you. You don't owe me anything. All I'm saying is, I'd be happy to stick together."

"We will! I want to stick with you, too."

Vee combed his blond hair back, pinching his brows together. "Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now."

"No? What do you mean?" Zed asked.

"Tell me there's no chance in Hell we'll ever get together. If I have it planted in my mind, then that's that. But if you don't, and we continue hanging out like this, getting closer... I might... Think there's a way."

"Valter..."

"Axe knew what he was doing when he brought you here...when he introduced us. Yes, he wanted protection for you, but he also wanted you and me to hit it off. I could tell. He'd never admit it, but I know him. You're perfect for me, but I've seen how others treat you, and I refuse to do the same. I don't want to perform tricks to impress you into sleeping with me like Ivar, but I don't want to stifle my feelings like... Axel. So you need to shut me down, right now. If there's a firm barrier, my mind will reroute, avoiding any possibility—"

"Stop," Zed said. "Please, just stop."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought any of that up."

"No, it's good to speak your mind. I appreciate the honesty, even if it took months to hear."

"It would have been inappropriate if I brought it up. When we had research and pressing issues, it was easy to ignore how familiar you seemed. Now I'm at a stalemate, and you're still here, and Axel's gone. I can't pretend like I don't want to spend my time with you. But I'll stay off your heels, I swear. Just friends."

"I'm not telling you no," Zed murmured. "Maybe at some point, I wanted to fall in love, but now I know that's foolish. Love can't exist in this world anymore. Not without great suffering, and I don't want to suffer anymore. Truthfully, I don't even want to get close to you, Valter, because I'm afraid someone or something will take it away."

"Nothing will take me away."

Zed shook her head, knocking a tear loose. "Don't say that. You can't make that promise. I don't want any more broken promises."

The scientist nodded while a cloud of vapour seethed from the sprinkler heads above the raised garden beds, thickening the air and clinging to their skin. A long silence pervaded, and Zed held her breath until Vee shuffled away to retrieve Wayfare of Austea. He dropped the box before her feet and grinned widely.

"Come on then, let's play. No more doom and gloom for a while."

~*~

Ivar spent the same evening pacing in his room. He went to the private alcove he assigned to the woman on his mind. Zed was fickle, and he didn't want to dash his chances with her by smothering, but something in his stomach wouldn't settle. He'd even dismissed his guard, encouraging another visit, yet she hadn't shown. Ivar buckled under the suspicion that she was angry with him, and her absence was his punishment.

Never the man to deny himself, he made for the Hives. If Zed was alone, surely she'd welcome his company. She'd said it herself: she wasn't one to sleep with just anyone, and he was far from just anyone. He was King, and this was his realm.

Despite his self-reassurance, Ivar carried doubts that manifested on his face. He passed a few citizens, drawing eyes with his acidic mug and ignored them all the way to Zed's door.

She didn't answer the door after he knocked. He reasoned she might be asleep, though it was shy of nine o'clock—early for most but not an unusual time to sleep. Before he turned away, he twisted the handle and cracked the door open an inch, letting out the dark.

"Lea? Are you in here?"

Stagnant silence answered, and he shut the door before anyone saw him. Ivar went to the door on the left and found that one locked. He grimaced, turned from the apartments and left for the lab.

On his way through the courtyard, Ivar saw Nalani and Trinity walking arm-in-arm, engaged in private discussion. Their frantic doe-eyes widened to see him.

"Have you seen Lea?" Ivar asked.

"She should be home, I think," said Trinity.

Nalani shrugged her bare shoulders, still clutching her friend's hand. "I thought she'd be with you, Ivar."

He sneered at the women. "No curtsy? No formality? Has everyone forgotten who's in charge around here?"

The two pressed their arms together, quietly apologizing and stepping aside for Ivar. He stalked toward the lab, holding his breath while throwing open the doors and turning the corner to find the rooms gutted of materials. The refrigerator hummed, and the overhead light flickered, barren and reeking of sterilization.

Ivar examined the dustless surfaces, curious but not enough to go digging through desk drawers. He went down the hall and stopped in front of Vee's door, clearing his airways again to sharpen his ears. There were no voices. Ivar knocked and went unanswered.

He turned in time to see the first door in the hall open and Lora's head poking out. She wore the same displeasure on her face, adjusting her reading glasses while her body caught up with her neck.

"If you're looking for Vee, he's hiding away with that woman everyone is up in arms about," Lora said.

"Hiding away? With Lea?"

"Yeah, whatever her name is. They haven't been here since I caught them getting up close and personal in Vee's room."

Ivar's stomach flipped, his head buzzed. Lora took great pleasure in the snagging of his mouth. She had been fuming by herself, finding specks of dust to brush away to keep her mind off her superior who'd run away with the girl she'd grown to distrust. Lora was a woman of insecurity, easily threatened by others but quick to bite back when given a chance. After she'd found Vee shoulder-to-shoulder with Zed in his apartment, Lora waited for any opportunity to drive a wedge between her beloved head scientist and the newcomer from the desert. Now was the perfect opportunity to damage Zed.

"What do you mean?" Ivar asked.

"You know what I mean, sir. They were practically on top of each other."

Ivar had no reason to discount Lora's claim. She'd proven herself a trusted and valuable member of the village long ago and never caused a ripple of dispute. The folding of her face and iron-clad seriousness was all the King needed to believe what she told him.

"Where are they?"

"I assume—if they're smart—hiding in one of the greenhouses. I wouldn't be surprised if you caught them naked in the strawberry bushes."

Ivar scoffed and rushed away. Lora watched until he disappeared, then went back inside the incubation room and put on a pair of gloves. There was an electric cooler housing blood samples, one from each member of the village. Lora selected a sample from the bottom tray and shuffled to the sink, turning on the tap while reading the label. Popping the top off the vial, she upended the sample and drained the blood away.

Ivar did better than storming the greenhouses in search of Zed. There were slinkier things on his mind. If he caught her in the act with the scientist, only then would he justify blowing up. For now, he snuck through the grounds with his focus tuned and his breath steady.

"What's next for me? I've tried to convince him to let someone go, but he refuses. Do we just exist here now, with no way to move forward? Forever trapped in this moon unit."

"He'll come to his senses," Vee said with meagre hopefulness. "Ivar's full of himself, but he's not stupid."

"Well, let's count on those senses coming soon," Zed snorted.

"Speaking of Ivar... Do you think he's wondering where you are? You did just... You know. If that happened to me, I'd be thinking about it for a while. Wondering after you. Well, not you—'cause we never... Heh. Ah, shit. You get my meaning, right?"

"Mr. Cluney, are you flustered? I don't think I've ever heard you fumble your words before."

"I don't mean to be coarse."

"Don't worry. We'll get through this. Ivar has to see reason… We need to tell him about the ones who died."

"I'll tell him. It should be me," Vee said, stacking the playing cards back in the plastic tray lining of the frayed box.

Zed helped by gathering pieces, separating them into their individual quadrants next to the cards. She set her eyes dead on the floor after they finished packing the game away, sighing in contemplation.

"Who will go?"

Vee frowned. They shared a strained minute of silence interrupted by another burst of spray in the air. Their shirts stuck to their backs, legs aching from crossing and uncrossing. Zed handed the box to Vee.

"Maybe it should be me," she said.

"Absolutely not. You can't leave. It's too dangerous out there, and you don't have to put your life on the line. There's only two people who should go. Me or Ivar."

"You're too important to lose, Vee. That's what Axel wants. I know if he had a dying wish for me, it would be to look out for you. For us to do everything we can to survive."

"Within capability. I'm not a killer, Zed. I'm not like Axel."

Zed smirked, the merciless flames dancing in her belly again, the same ones she'd felt when she screamed at Lora. She'd harboured the noxious warmth before. It was a friend to her.

"But I am...I'm a killer."

Vee set his jaw firmly, scoffing, unable to disagree. "Listen, Rambo. Even armed to the teeth, you're still not going out there alone."

"And neither are you if you go."

"You think Ivar will leave his precious cocoon? I don't think so. He'll probably send one of his guys out to never come back."

Zed shook her head, tired of the speculation. "This is ridiculous. Anyone should be able to come and go as they please. It's tyranny to tell them they can't leave if they want to. I thought this was a place of free will? What happened to the promised land?"

"Same thing that always happens when one person is left in charge."

"On that, we agree."

They left the greenhouse with much to think about, hugged goodbye in the courtyard and separated—Zed toward the Hives and Vee following the path to his room.

The next morning Zed awoke to guards butting on all the doors, yelling for everyone to get to the courtyard. The racket came after a long night of tossing and turning. Her eyes were tight with unrest, her head throbbing, but she put on jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a single breast pocket, similar to the ones Ivar wore.

The citizens filed from the Hives, murmuring and looking around worriedly. Guards stood by to direct the traffic to the medical tent-turned-backdrop. The booth topped the steepest hill in the plaza, out of use for the past few weeks. They pooled around the base of the hill in collective confusion, looking up as Ivar took advantage of the blank vinyl behind him.

Ivar cast a proud smile over the congregation. He summoned everyone from their hiding spots without having to lift a finger and brought them into the light spilling through the checkered dome on high. He waited until he spotted Zed and Vee coming in from their separate tubes, relaxing a bare inch when they didn't arrive together. They cut their ways to the front of the throng and noticed each other right away. Ivar saw the troubled looks they exchanged and sneered.

"Is this everyone?" Ivar called to the head of his guard.

An armed man standing off to the East with a few others gave Ivar a thumbs up. The King nodded, then proceeded, his expression toward his people fresh with tenacity.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Kinderfeld. I've asked you all here to bring you some news. It has taken me a long time to come to this decision, and for my delay, I apologize. I don't take this lightly... We've lost members of our family, and my heart is broken. I've spent too long trying to think of a way to bring trade back to our village. We need supplies, yes, and medics. I understand these things because I've survived before. All of us must exist as a unit, each one pledged to the survival of our crew."

The people looked on with widening eyes. Hearts that once sang for Ivar's monologues found their tune. All of them but Azalea and the other Cluney brother. Ivar burned them with ocular venom, hoisting his smile into a morbid curve. Zed let shoulders and legs swallow her back into the crowd, but not deep enough to block her view of the head scientist glaring back at the leader.

"I forbid travel for your protection. There are dangers outside of our walls. People whose only purpose is to hunt and kill. I don't have to remind you of the horrors we've suffered or the love we've cultivated here in our home. You were all there. Some of you longer than others. They built these walls to protect us—the ones who choose love instead of hate."

Ivar clasped his hands behind his back and took splinted steps back and forth on his makeshift stage. He fashioned himself contemplative, but his eyes shone with intent.

"With that being said... We cannot wait for luck to come to us. This planet is evolving each day. Nature is reclaiming the land, and it will swallow us in its majesty. We will be lost if we don't take action."

"What do we do?" Someone called from the center of the gathering. The fiery-haired father who'd earned his keep cooking and training his son stood out as the shouter. Ivar didn't smile at him so much as he cast his grace upon the redheaded man clutching the freckled boy by the shoulders.

"I'm glad you asked, sir... We are a unity. A tribe of people who want to live in harmony, am I wrong?"

Several shook their heads, others muttered together, a dull drone of tired voices.

"Then we should vote. Does anyone care to nominate themselves or another?"

The apprehension pivoted and picked up with a few gasps. Heads swivelled in search of somebody bold enough to champion themselves for exploration. Vee continued glaring at Ivar. The king returned the glower.

"I'll go!"

Zed gasped after the words left Vee's mouth. He stepped forth, unbreaking under Ivar's challenging eyes.

"So we have one volunteer. Our beloved head of research and weapons development. A very noble gesture! Does anyone else wish to nominate themselves?" Ivar asked. He opened his arms, beseeching a reply with postured hope.

"Nobody should go alone!" Zed shouted.

"Yeah, we need a team!"

Ivar motioned for the crowd to quiet down. Once they simmered, looking on with palpable anticipation, he inhaled deeply for the next addressing.

"We're running low on men to keep our hold. The brunt of the firepower needs to remain here in case of attack," Ivar reasoned.

"I'll go alone. I don't care. We can't stand around any longer!" Vee said, his chest puffed, much to the surprise of the people who knew him.

Ivar barked a few dry laughs, disguising his pleasure to everyone but Zed and the man who'd volunteered to brave the elements. "I suppose if nobody has any objections...Vee will be the one to go. As badly as it tears me to say so... You are the perfect man for the job. Brother, I wish you all the luck."

Zed broke away from the gather and hammered her legs up the incline toward Vee and Ivar, pumping her fists until she reached them.

"Ivar, you can't do this! We can't send people out alone. At least let me go with him!"

"No!" Ivar and Vee shouted at once.

"What are you going to do to stop me? After your decree about peace and harmony, what will you do to keep me from leaving Kinderfeld?"

Ivar adopted her heated expression. "Azalea, stay out of this."

"No. I won't! Not after what happened to Axel. We have to assemble a team! Don't tell me to stay out when neither of you has seen the carnage!"

"Of course you want to go, Lea. All you care about is finding Axel. You used me and hoped I wouldn't figure out you're trying to leave. You never cared about me. You try to act like you're so innocent and respectful, but you're just like everyone else."

"Because I don't want people to die? Ivar, I understand you're trying to protect everyone, but sending men out for slaughter won't help our cause. Please," Zed whimpered. "Set aside our personal issues and try to see the bigger picture."

Ivar cooled suddenly. He patronized Zed with a frantic nod and a forced grin. "All right, Azalea. Consider our personal issues permanently set aside. You got your way. One of the guards will go with Vee. Now, go. I have heard your voice."

The guards gathered around Ivar and Vee, their conversation clipped and sheltered from the citizens by a lineup of broad-shouldered men carrying weapons of varying levels of brutality. Zed stepped away, cowering under the firm looks she received from Ivar's men. Though she bowed out of the political bubble, she stayed close by, watching Vee's sour face muttering umbrage at the King. The other citizens broke off into smaller clusters, chosen families and cliques gathering to discuss the ruling.

A hand slid over Zed's shoulder, and she whirled to find Sheraya bowing her head. "You've done what you can."

"No, I haven't!" Zed nipped. "I should go with him. I'm not afraid of the outside anymore."

"You don't have to be the hero, Azalea. You must survive."

"I have survived. I'm good at it."

"You're needed here. The young ones have to learn from the women."

"Sheraya... I can't let Vee go. I can't."

The elder took hold of Zed's clammy palm, pressing the lines with her thumb. Zed buckled as tears sprung from the corners of her eyes. "He's all I have, Sheraya."

"The only one you ever truly have is yourself. Think about that before you take your heart's path and not your brain's. Look hard into the future."

"I'm trying," Zed sobbed.

"Azalea, I mean it. Your future is important."

Sheraya left her with a warm peck on the cheek and a growing sense of bewilderment. Zed looked around at the people, the hills and the courtyard beyond, the flatland where they set up their booths and entertained each other. Envisioning life beyond the safety of their walls overcame Zed with grief. She'd won, but the conditions were too heavy for her to bear. Now her last friend prepared for expulsion.

Vee took his charge seriously. Zed saw his raw determination as they hashed out a plan. Several times, she stopped herself from storming their parley, anchoring herself to the ground with locked knees and her arms folded over her breasts.

For a long time, the conversation went on, and most of the villagers went about their morning routines, gathering to cook and gossip of the turbulent state of politics. Zed stayed close enough to catch Vee when they finally broke for action, but the men showed no signs of agreement. Ivar had to hush some more uproarious guards, leashing them down with an assuring hand on the shoulder to stop them from infecting the others with their rancour.

Zed spotted a guard sprinting from the warehouse limits. The desperate look on his face alerted her, and she stepped out of sight around the corner of the medical tent, still close enough to listen.

The man approached, panting and calling for Ivar's attention. Zed snuck a peek and saw the group retire from their conference, distracted by their comrade.

"Jackson, what's the matter?"

"It's Zee. It's him! One of the guys found some doctor dragging him through the forest."

"A doctor?" Ivar repeated. "How do you know?"

"He says so. Says his name is Simpson... Or was it Samson?"

"Samson!" Zed yelled, running from her cover toward the reporting guard. "Did you say the doctor's name is Samson?"

"Yeah, Samson," the man huffed, stunned by the woman's sudden appearance.

"Bring him in! Right now. Go get them and bring him to me!" Zed demanded.

"Now, wait a minute," Ivar said. "How do we know we can trust this guy?"

"If it's the Samson I know, we can trust him. Ivar, please. I'll vouch for him if it's who I think it is."

"Who gives a shit, he's got my brother!"

Zed vaulted after Vee, tailed by the guards and Ivar. The march heralded interest from the citizens, and soon, onlookers roved toward the warehouse. Vee turned to the guard who'd brought the news and slapped him on the shoulder. "Go tell them to let Axel and the doctor inside."

"Sir," the guard nodded, jogging ahead to the entrance where two other men stood, baffled and conflicted without orders.

"Let them in!" Zed cried out.

They waited with bursting lungs. It seemed an hour crawled by before a shadowed heap of arms appeared at the mouth of the entrance. Flanked by two guards holding him upright, they carried Axel inside, his head of matted brown hair dangling lifelessly between his shoulders, limp tattooed arms slung around their necks. Zed ran to him and propped his chin up in her hand, heart palpitating, head rushing.

"Axel! Oh my God. You're alive!"

"Now, now, miss. Don't waste too much breath speaking to him. He can't understand you."

Zed turned toward the familiar voice. Samson hobbled in next to a guard who'd taken on his load—a heavy satchel, a duffel bag and two tweed suitcases. Filth and the briny stink of body odour and piss wafted through the tunnel with them. Most recoiled from the stench.

"Doctor Samson, do you remember me? From the bloodbank."

"Ah, yes, of course, I remember you, Zed! You used to zip around on your motorbike, looking for scrap metal and something to eat."

"Yes, yes! I didn't think I'd see you again."

"The chances of us meeting were rather slim, I agree, and I have to say it's lovely to find you in this magnificent bubble here. You can see this splendid little valley from the North. We were hoping for water, but this is much better. Um, speaking of water, where might I find some? Mr. Soldier and I are rather parched. Oh, and I left my camel parked outside. Do you validate?" Samson said with a jolt of wild laughter.

Zed didn't mean to be rude, but turning away from Samson was far too easy when Axel hung before her like a damp towel on a clothesline. She wanted to hold him, to join in as support to get him a surface to lie upon, but she resisted.

Ivar butt in and directed the escort to take Axel to the laboratory, then turned to Zed, scorning the tears in her eyes.

"Looks like you got your wish, Lea. Axel's back. Your life can go back to normal," Ivar said as the rest of them rushed away with the hunter and the doctor in tow.

It was only them, facing off on the hill. Zed quelled the wildfire in her belly with a painful swallow. A debate with Ivar served no purpose, so she turned from him, solemn and absolute.

"You've given me a lot, Ivar. I thank you for that. Hopefully soon, you and I will see eye to eye again, and we can live peacefully, as you said."

She angled down the hill, hurrying toward the laboratory.

Nobody stopped her from entering the stand-in hospital room. Vee had been worrying over his brother, grimacing at his crudely wrapped hand, violet dark and lame at his side. They'd already stripped him naked and laid a blanket over his lower extremities, so the bruises spraying his ribs screamed in the whiteness. His skin was bright red and glossy, shoulders scabbed with burns. With all his muscles slackened, Axel spilled over the bed, deadweight and loose-jawed.

"What happened?" Zed asked, turning to the doctor propped up in a gurney, sipping from a jug of water.

"I can't say for sure," said Samson. "He was comatose when I found him baking in the desert. That's one lucky man, right there. Lucky he crawled his sorry ass to where he did. Otherwise, I might have missed him by a mile."

"What should we do, Samson? How do I make him come out of it?"

"Oh, we can never be sure. It could be a few days, weeks... Months. My suggestion is to regulate his body temperature, treat his wounds and burns, and hope for the best."

Zed turned back to the unconscious man. She spotted the clumps of dirt in his hair, the scrapes on his elbows and mud-caked fingernails and her panic increased.

"Somebody bring me washcloths, soap and water right now!"

"I'd be mighty careful cleaning those burns, Zed. He's got some good blisters forming. And mind his hand."

"I will, I will," Zed nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"Can I bother someone for a snack?" Asked Samson.

The guards who'd toted them into the lab stuck around until no longer needed. Zed refused help from anyone except Vee after Trinity brought them a bucket of warmed water, and Lora provided antiseptic. They started cleaning Axel gently, beginning with the grime under his nails. Samson ate from a bowl of mixed fruits, humming in delight from the nectar sliding down his throat.

Zed moved Axel's injured arm with great care and washed away the smears of dirt marring his tattoos, applying disinfectant to the cuts. Vee worked on the opposite side of the bed, combing out the chunks in his hair. Once in awhile, Zed met Vee's eyes, and he'd nod or give her a forced grin.

Axel's unconsciousness only registered later in the night after they'd cleaned him and swapped a few words of astonishment. Zed stayed nearby, wishing his eyes open, but every hopeful breath gave way to disappointment. Lost in the blankness of his mind, Axel floated.

Even Lora surrendered to the sobering tension, making herself available to Vee only. Zed didn't concern herself with the woman. Her mind was awash with relief and worry for the friend who'd found his miraculous way back home. Nothing else mattered but the battered man lying in slumber on the hospital bed.

Samson fell asleep, and Vee left after long, touching Zed's shoulder before excusing himself. He promised to come back as soon as he'd had some rest. Zed nodded, squeezing his hand for a lingering moment, then releasing him. Sleep had no chance of overtaking her, so she stayed next to Axel, balling herself up in one of the office chairs, listening to his wheezing and sticking her fingers under his scruffy jaw to check his pulse every time he went silent.

When it was only her, Axel, and Samson sleeping in the room, she leaned over the bed and brushed her palm over Axel's scaly forehead. She avoided his singed nose, the curving laceration above his left eye and the peeling skin on the crests of his cheeks, touching his jaw and stroking his hair a few times.

"Don't worry, everything's okay now. You're back where you're safe."

The woman slumped into the chair, propping her heavy head on her elbow. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, plates of seared skin stretching tight over his ribcage, and fought off the urge to doze alongside him.

"Mmph-uh... Muh."

Zed's eyes snapped open. "Axel? Did you speak?"

"Hmm," he thrummed.

"Can you hear me, Axel? It's me, Zed. Azalea. Do you recognize my voice?"

Axel's throat went quiet, the enfeebled notes fading back to obscurity. Zed tried to get him mumbling again, but the hunter remained still.

"It's okay. I promise, I'll make you better. You're home now, and I'm not going anywhere until you’re better, okay, Axel? Don’t worry. You’re at home with me."

Like what I do? Tip me on Ko-Fi (if you want :D)

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#axel cluney fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #ivar the boneless fanfiction #valter skarsgård fanfiction #AU fanfiction #Bill Skarsgård #alex høgh andersen #valter skarsgard

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holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Top-Notch Wrestling

Summary: You’ve got no clue how you ended up watching a top-notch wrestling show with the brothers.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester

Warnings: mentions of characters death, grown child Dean, Top-Notch Wrestling love, fluff

A/N: Inspired by the episode “beyond the mat”

You’ve got no clue how you ended up visiting the burial of an unknown top-notch wrestling dude but here you are, right by your boyfriends’ side while he smiles wildly.

Larry ‘The Hangman’ Lee died, and Dean wanted to check on his ‘mysterious’ death. Which means your boyfriend of five years tries to revive memories from his childhood.

“There’s Wrecking Ball Calhoon. Wow. The Brooklyn Beast? Sammy look, Gunnar Lawless is her too.” Dean freaks out, his eyes shine like he hit the jackpot and you cannot hold back a smile at his enthusiasm.

All you can see are broken wrestler trying to get around with a show which no one wants to see but to Dean, those men and women are icons, a tiny snippet of happy moments with his dad.

“You have to excuse your boyfriend, he’s a groupie…” Sam snickers but you don’t care about your friend’s words. Your man is happy, so you will bear the burial and give him a few peaceful moments.

“Shut up, bitch. Should I go say hi?” Dean suddenly shyly glances around the room until his eyes land on Gunnar Lawless again.

“How about we introduce ourselves, Dean? I bet he would be honored as a fan as you remembers him since childhood.” Nodding Dean grasps for your hand, walking toward the wrestler.

“Hi-uh…” Dean clears his throat, holding out his hand. “I am sorry for your loss. My dad was a huge fan of Larry ‘The Hangman’ Lee. Some of my happiest memories are when I think of your shows.”

Swallowing thickly, you give the man shaking Dean’s hand a thankful smile.

Gunnar smiles while your still star-struck boyfriend enthusiastically shakes his hand.

“That’s a great honor you remember me, son.” Dean’s eyes lit up when Gunnar calls him 'son’ and you gently place one hand onto his shoulder.

“I... I got to tell you. I... worshipped you, growing up. My dad, when he found the time and took a day off…you know from work and all. He loved those shows. I bet he would be honored to meet you, Mr. Lawless.” Dean stammers and you need to blink back the tears.

“Nice to meet you, just call me Gunnar, son. It’s not necessary to call me mister.”

“Dean, Dean Winchester and this lovely lady is my girl, I mean my girlfriend Y/N. She’s not a fan…yet.” Gunnar shakes your hand, smiling at you.

“You’ve got yourself a great fan, sweetie. Don’t let him go.”

“I plan on keeping that man.”

While Dean talks about his first breaking and entering to borrow some family’s pay-per-view to watch a match with Gunnar you let your eyes drift toward Sam who stares at a woman.

He seems to notice someone familiar on the other side of the room and you assume, it’s Rio, the woman he was talking about on your way to the burial.

“I think Sam just met his icon too, Dean.” Pointing toward Sam who is awestruck when Rio turns to look at him you giggle.

You can hear Sam stutter awkwardly when he tells Rio she was his first crush. Your eyes round hearing the woman ask if Sam had a poster of her above his bed.

“He had one, I swear, sweetheart. The boy’s eyes were glued to his crush for at least two or three years.” Dean whispers and you watch Sam smiling slightly embarrassed, hiding he had one of the posters.

“Why did we come here?” Looking around the hall you sigh deeply. Dean and Sam talked you into watching a top-notch match.

Inside the hall, Rio is announcing the wrestling match. You don’t hear the names of the wrestler, too busy to check on the information about ‘The Hangman’s’ death.

The boys chose to take seats in the front row, beers in hand, they are laughing, excited to be there while you hope the show will be over soon.

Watching a man enter the hall with his son you wonder why a father would bring his kid to such a place. The boy seems to be excited so it should be alright, still, you would not want your kid to see violence, even faked violence, at such a young age.

“Got to love some wrestling, am I right?” The man grins and Dean nods. “Beer’s cheap, food too, my son’s entertained... parenting.”

Humming you try to concentrate on the file on your iPad and not the A+ parenting of that guy.

“That brings me back.” Sam huffs and you can see Dean’s face fall. “Can you not try to ruin one of the nicest things dad ever did for us, please?”

The audience is screaming for the wrestler, including Dean. When Gunnar punches his chest, raising his fists in the air. Dean gets up, just like the few other people in the hall so you shut off your iPad to get up too.

“Yeah!” Dean smiles, taking your hand. “Hey, get up, Sammy.” Sam, who still sat on his chair reluctantly gets up.

The wrestling match begins after what feels like ages and you can finally sit back down to check on the autopsy report.

Sam and Dean are cheering, looking happy for the first time in weeks. Your eyes glued to the brothers you don’t follow the match.

You can see the happiness on your boyfriend’s face, and you chuckle as he jumps out of his seat, cheering for Gunnar.

Sam gets up laughing next to his brother, smiling wildly as the crowd celebrates Gunnar’s move. While you clap your hands, smiling at Dean, you hear sirens outside – never a good sign…

“Another death.” Sighing you walk back into the hall to tell Dean the father got killed.

Your eyes round and you must hold back a chuckle when your boyfriend rolls into the ring. He bounces back and forth off the ropes, rolling into the ring again and again.

Smiling he struts across the floor, cheering for a crowd, or rather empty seats. He climbs onto the ropes, raising his hands like a victor.

“You could always have a new career.” Smirking you watch Dean jump off the ropes, awkwardly clearing his throat. “You’re moves were not that bad.”

“What’d you find out?” Changing the subject Dean rolls through the ropes, to leave the ring. “Sweetheart?”

“According to the paramedics, the father of the boy two rows behind us got killed. Looks like he lost a fight with a knife. There are marks on his back. Sounds like a job for us, Dean…”

“Here we go again…” Dean wraps his arm around your waist, looking at the ring one last time. “All good things come to an end, I guess…”

SPN Forever Tags

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

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A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #Sam Winchester

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teawithshruti · 3 years

Text

How did I keep myself sane amidst a pandemic - My thoughts on books, anime, and restaurants.

Yet another review of The Shining

A plot so well written you would want to go in room 217

Hi there! This blog comes to you from a bored 19 year old who has a knack for reading crime thrillers, watching murder documentaries, and loves watching MasterChef just to see Gordon Ramsay. LOL. And did I mention that she also happens to be a Stephen King fan, because who isn’t? So here is where I try and convince you that The Shining is the best book ever written and how Stanley Kubrick completely butchered the screenplay, as well as why pasta is life.

Welcome to the Rockies!

The story takes place in the town of Boulder, Colorado, where our main protagonist Jack Torrance gets a job as a caretaker of the famous Overlook Hotel. Winters in Boulder are harsh, and the hotel remains closed as travel is not permitted with all the heavy snowfall. Now Jack is a recovering alcoholic with anger issues which led to him breaking his son’s arm prior to where the story begins. This made Wendy, his wife, question her marriage and the safety of their five year old son, Danny. Danny on the other hand isn’t your average five year old who just watches cartoons and plays with toys. He is aglow with a psychic voltage, and has frequent blackouts. In the words of old Mr Hallorann, the hotel’s head chef, Danny’s a shiner. When the Torrances meet Mr Hallorann, he feels an instant connection with Danny. He warns Jack about the hotel and its sinister secrets and how the previous caretaker, Delbert Grady, killed himself and his family. But Jack is sure that this huge and lonely hotel with its splendid views is just what he needs in order to earn back his family’s trust. But going to a haunted hotel with a troubled marriage and a psychic son? Maybe not the best idea. But in his defense, Jack doesn't believe in ghosts. Little does he know that’s about to change.

Snowbound at The Overlook

The Torrance's begin settling in the Overlook. But as winter closes in and the blizzards cut them off from the outer world, the hotel seems to develop a life of its own. Meanwhile, Jack starts growing restless, craving for a friendly drink with each passing day. He also starts experiencing hallucinations, and wonders if they are withdrawal symptoms. Danny on the other hand is experiencing his own share of ghostly sightings, like the terrifying lady in the bathtub of room 217 who seems to have never checked out of the hotel. In one instance, he witnesses her climbing out of the clawfoot tub and advancing towards him with her bloated belly and dry hair as he stands frozen in fear in a blood covered presidential suite. This narrative by King with all its details is the truly the most spine tingling I’ve ever read. Later when Danny’s parents find him in the room, a thumb in his mouth, that is when Wendy truly realizes that they are not alone in that strange big hotel. Jack goes and sees the tub for himself, but the lady from before doesn't want to greet him. Wendy, in tears, sees that both her husband and her son are being tormented by this place and begs Jack to quit the job. Danny later calms his mom down, who is weeping uncontrollably, by telling her not to worry as his daddy doesn't have the shining, so there is nothing to worry about.

Have you never heard of REDRUM?

Sure you have. Read it backwards. Yes, you got it right. And so did Danny after seeing this word in his visions countless times. It so turns out that Danny is much stronger than he looks and after failing to possess him, The Overlook has turned to an easier target - Jack. As Jack slowly starts to lose his mind, he gives in and starts drinking again from the bar in the ballroom. His hallucinations keep getting worse to the point he actually sees Mr Grady, the previous caretaker / murderer, and even has a talk with him. Danny sees his changing behavior and so does his wife, who just doesn't see the man she fell in love with in his cold, distant eyes anymore. With everything going on, Wendy takes Danny to their apartment in the employee wing of the hotel and locks them inside in fear of Jack, who is slowly slipping away from reality. But turns out this move from her proves to be disastrous, as Wendy keeping Jack away from his own son is the last straw for him. In one of his many hallucinations, Jack meets his predecessor, his buddy Mr. Grady and the two have a disturbing conversation about how fun it is to kill your wife. Yes , no one trumps King when it comes to the unique combination of horror and psychological thrillers packed into one nail-biting plot!

In other words...

The only thing I liked about the movie was Jack Nicholson’s excellent acting. Apart from that Stanley Kubrick let go of many crucial parts which were essential to the story. He eliminated the hedge sequence in the book, which was terrifying to just read. The ending was just a complete mess. I get that you can’t exactly get all the details right of a 500 page book, but at least do justice to the ones you have chosen. Anyways I’m gonna go sulk in my room over this. Bye

Is it too late to start Anime?

Hi there! Good to have you back! Ever since pandemic began, everyone’s been locked in their own house. So this led to me taking up a few hobbies like sketching and painting and binging on a whole lot of sitcoms.. My personal favorite is the alluring world of Anime. Several of my friends began watching it and I cannot exactly term it as peer pressure, but I did give in and start watching Anime too. And now my watchlist includes just a bunch of 2D characters with powers that even Superman himself can't fight. So this is my take on how a kryptonian can be defeated with Jutsu, as Mr Naruto would say. Lol. This one is for all the weebs out there.

Manga and Anime are not the same!

To put it simply, manga is a Japanese term for comics and graphic novels, whereas Anime is the term for Japanese animations.. There are many similarities between them, as they both have been created by Osama Tezuka, who is considered as the Japanese version of Walt Disney. Now have you ever seen a simple comic book? The one with black and white newspaper illustrations - like Garfield. Manga is just like that - A book of illustrations. Now we arrive at the perennial question - Manga or Anime, which is better. Both of them are equally interesting, but I personally have a soft spot for anime. The intro theme songs, intense background music, and the beat dropping right before a big fight move, all these factors pack a punch. You don’t get that adrenaline rush from just a book.

My first anime - Demon Slayer

The story begins with the main character Tanjiro, who returns home after selling charcoal in town to find his entire family murdered by demons. Pretty intense right? His sister, Nezuko, survives but there’s a twist - she turns into a demon herself. This makes him vow to take revenge and he sets off to train with Sakonji, who has trained many of the elite members of the Demon Slayer Corps. After many years of training and a painful exam called the final selection, Tanjiro finally becomes a demon slayer and is off on missions along with his sister, who unlike most demons doesn’t consume human flesh. On his missions he meets Zenitsu and Inosuke, who both have excellent powers of their own. My favorite story arc was when the highest ranking slayers, known as the pillars, were introduced. But my words won’t do justice to their powers they possess. So simply get your geek on by watching this short yet amazing series.

The Tale of Naruto Uzumaki

The hidden leaf village is not so hidden anymore! The series I am currently watching is one of the most popular anime from 2020 - Naruto. The story is set around the shinobi villages and their ninjas and how Naruto Uzumaki plans on being the next Hokage [the most powerful shinobi] of the leaf village. He is trained by some of the best ninjas the village has ever seen. Before graduating from the academy, he was a hyperactive boy with lots of energy who just wanted to be the best. After graduation, he was placed in team seven, along with Sakura Haruno and Sasuke Uchiha. This team was trained by Kakashi Sensei who is known for wielding his Chidori and even the Sharingan. The sharingan, to put it simply, is a trait passed down in families. The Uchihas are known for their sharingans and hence it naturally comes to Sasuke as well. The mystery still remains unsolved as to how Kakashi got his sharingan, as he is not an Uchiha. But Naruto does have a super power as well. Not technically his powers per se, but we can cut him some slack. After all it's not everyday you get to see a beast like the nine tailed fox sealed away in an 11 year old boy. In my opinion the story picks up Orochimaru’s entry, and it paves the way for Sasuke’s powers in the future. My favorite character has to be Sasuke Uchiha. With his effortless fighting skills and sarcastic yet cool personality, he definitely is an excellent shinobi. You have to start this show right away because once you have seen him use his fire style fireball jutsu.....the world just doesn't look the same anymore.

In other words...

My current watchlist includes Naruto Shippuden, Black Clover, One Piece, and a few other naruto spin offs. Anime was something I never thought I would like, but now as it turns out I can't get enough of it. So bye for now, if you need me I'll be at Ichiraku’s eating ramen with barbeque pork. And if you get this reference, have a bowl of ramen on me. K bye.

Home in a faraway land

Good to see you again ! Do you ever get that feeling of an intense craving for your favourite dish? Like say pasta or pizza? My favorite is pasta, but being raised in India, I can’t say no to a classic plate of butter naan and chicken tikka with a glass of buttermilk or chaas if you please. Of Course you can’t beat the taste of a home cooked meal, but let me tell you about the time I went to this amazing little Indian restaurant in Dubai with my family, and how the food there was absolutely heavenly.

Out and About in Dubai

Skyscrapers, Sleepless nights, Gold Souks and gigantic malls - these are the visions you'd usually get when someone mentions Dubai. Well, they're mostly right! I went there with my family about 5 years ago. We stayed at the Ramada, which was right next to the Dubai Mall. The mall happens to be strategically placed next to the Burj Khalifa and we got lucky enough to see mesmerizing musical fountain shows night after night. The streets are spick and span, and everyone follows the traffic regulations dutifully. We also went for the desert safari, which was no less than an actual roller coaster ride. We also visited the Gold Souk, and oh boy. The name definitely fulfills its purpose, as the entire street is occupied entirely by gold stores. Huge gold ornaments are on display like clothes on hangers. I personally don’t have a thing for gold jewellery, but my mom had the time of her life there fawning and gasping over every store we came across. Shortly after our visit here, we came across this beautiful little Indian restaurant, and you can call me old school but at the end of the day, this girl needs a desi meal, because trust me room service gets boring after a while.

Peshwa - Not your typical 5 star restaurant

Situated away from the hustle of the main city, this place still remains quite underrated. We stumbled across this hidden gem which saved us the efforts of getting back to the hotel for an overpriced lunch. As soon as we entered the restaurant, we could smell the aroma of a classic dal makhani [ a simple gravy consisting of lentils infused with aromatic spices and hints of burnt chillies ] in the air. So we got a table and had a look at the menu and it was almost like being back home. The endless variety of gravies with paneer in almost every single one of them, to at least 6 different types of rotis, a little piece of heaven in this concrete jungle! We went ahead and ordered a simple meal of rotis and some paneer delicacy, along with dal and rice. Apart from the taste of the food, which was just heavenly, the overall ambience of the place in one word, was exquisite. The restaurant lived up to its very ethnic maharashtrian name. The food was served in those traditional style cutlery, reminding us of a simpler time.

A dish you just can’t miss

If you have a sweet tooth like me, you definitely have to try the coconut barfi from this place. Made from desiccated coconuts, sweetened condensed milk, a finely ground cardamom, and a hint of saffron, this dish is a match made in heaven. It was freshly made and we could tell it by the intoxicating aroma of pure ghee [clarified butter]. So just for a day, give yourself a break from watching calories and try this mouth watering dish because here’s something to live for.

In other words…

The next time I’m in Dubai, the first thing I will do is find out if the restaurant is still there. And probably avoid the Gold Souk this time. I will most certainly go for the desert safari, because it’s not everyday you get defy gravity and drive through the sand dunes like in a Fast and Furious movie. Lol. Also thanks for bearing with me throughout this blog. See ya!

8 notes · View notes

enigma-im · 4 years

Text

Danger Zone

Rating: Explicit Relationship: (Homemade)SCP x Female!human Warning: Violence, verbal abuse, forcible removal of limbs, work place bulling, sex, knotting, oral, monster sex

Word count: 6561

A love story written in incident reports in a SCP file

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ID#: KC-S4905 Object Class: Euclid Keter Description: 1.95m and 116.9kg Bipedal, long neck Black back hair. Lighter to the middle. Grey chest. Black crooked tail Human-esk face with a wide grin, multiple incisors. Flat nose and small eyes. Long erect ears similar to a border collie. White eyes generally obstructed by black bangs Front claws are ~ 5.59cm, hind claws are ~6.62cm muscle mass of 52%, ~10% higher than an average 20-year-old male.

Origin Found in Banff, the bottom half of Alberta Canada. A local fisherman reported traps being destroyed. Local deputy logged sightings of a 'bigfoot' in the area. A team was dispatched at 7/14/16 to investigate. Reported back 7/22/16 with clarification on the sighting. A tall black creature with a long neck and glowing white eyes. The team was approved to detain and capture the creature to be brought back to a base in South Dakota.

KC-S4905 was captured on 8/2/16. brought to base Fanning on 8/4/16. the creature was sedated, and detained in containment unit 23K-A. No further precautions made necessary besides 24/7 monitoring and a team of two at night. The creature remains cautious and hostile. He doesn't speak but is found to understand basic English. Follow commands but still lashes out when too close.

As of 8/6/16 creature KC-S4905 is logged and detained in Timbre Lake, South Dakota, Base Fanning.

The lab associates call him Kasey.

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Incident logs (KC-S4905 & surrounding area)

10/14/16 2:23am - Motion sensor tripped in 23K-F. Guard reports nothing unusual.

The control panel light blinks at the bored guard. He sits with his head resting against his palm swiveling back and forth in his chair when the light catches his attention. He looks down, identifies the section it came from then with a sigh flips to the camera for that hallway. The guard studies the screen, looking for shadows or open doors but finds nothing. With another sigh, he sits up and pulls out his walkie.

"Who is close to 23K-F," he asks, yawning afterward.

His radio cracks to life, "I'm close, what's up?"

"Motion sensors went off on the third hallway. Please check it out, I'm not seeing anything on the monitors," he answers.

"On it."

The guard watches the screen until a figure walks around a corner. He watches as the man looks through the two rooms located in the hallway.

The radio beeps," I'm not seeing anything."

"Alright then. Probably a false alarm, thanks."

"Yea, anytime."

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

"Inserting 4mg of Midazolam into the upper arm. Should be good for another hour, two hours at most," the lab assistant spoke with unconcern. Just another monster to collect a sample from, nothing exciting for Brian Philips. Working here for eight years, you have seen it all. Having seen it all, Brian is pretty ok sticking with the 'grunt' work. Collect blood, hair, and tissue samples then send the big beast back to its cage.

"Can't imagine we need that kind of time, be in and out in, what, 30 minutes?" the guard, Princeton, asked. The guard rested against the wall closest to the door. He held a .50 cal. Pistol with sedative rounds. Security wasn't allowed to even have the opportunity to injure anyone or anything. Less the unit was deemed dangerous then all armed workers must use fast-acting tranquilizers.

"No time at all," Brian answered noncommittedly as he plucked some hairs from the creature's arm. Stuffing large tuffs into a bag, labeling, and placing it in storage before working on a tissue sample. He got flakes of skin, storing in the same fashion as the fur. Everything was simple and easy. But would you honestly believe that? This is an incident report after all.

Brian reached for a needle on the metal table. Sterilizing then finding a vein he slowly pricked the tip into the creature's skin. The second the point pierced the epidermis Kasey woke up.

Brian barely even registered the movement before the arm he was leaning next to thumped against his jaw, clamping his teeth over his tongue. Brian rolled back in his chair, only having enough time to taste the blood pouring from the end of his tongue. Next KC-S4905 rolled off the metal table and lashed out at the poor lab assistant, scratching across his shoulder, slapping him off the chair and onto the floor. A pop pierced the air as a weapon was fired. Princeton managed to get a hit on the creature's back before Kasey clawed at Brian's back with his long claws. Brian screamed as the knives cut through his coat and skin like paper. He felt it run from the back of his neck and down to the bottom of his ribs, his skin instantly burning as his muscles are introduced to the open air.

Another pop fills the room as Princeton fires again. The tranquilizer finally seems to do something as KC-S4905 swayed on his feet. His nails clicked against the tiled floor as he hobbled into the far wall. He caught himself on the brick before sliding down to the tiled floor. He lands on all fours, growling and shaking his head. Try as he must to rid the dizziness, it only got worse till he fell to the floor.

Princeton watched the creature with bated breath, his weapon clenched tightly in his terrified grip. His ears rang and he could feel sweat dripping from his brow. His body felt primed and ready for a fight but he knew there would be none, especially against something this big. As he watched the beast fall slack against the floor did he lower his weapon. He stopped and caught his breath, dropping his head so his chin bumps against his chest. His ears finally cleared enough to hear Brian crying against the floor.

Princeton reached for his walkie," I need medical at lab room 23K."

"Roger, medical is on their way," a voice answered back.

10/30/16- Lab assistant injured while collecting samples. Guard -Princeton Adams- fired 2 sedative rounds. Lab assistant suffered 3 lacerations on his shoulder and back. 25 stitches used. Higher precautions enabled.

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11/9/16 1:14am - door alarm activated in container 23K-A. Guards report no tampering, door slightly ajar. The main door into the container is locked and sturdy. The investigation of the video shows nothing.

A piercing alarm startled security guard Pico Conwell. He was walking his rounds when the loud siren rang. With years of training he knew without evening thinking what it was. Pico ran down the hall, closer to the blaring call. He turned down the maze of hallways to see two other guards running with their weapons drawn to the floor.

Breach alert, everyone knew that sound, drilled it into their heads since day one. If you work around the beast that can kill you without a thought, you made sure to keep alert and aware.

Pico and his fellow guards came to the unit where the call came from, 23K-A. Pico walked ahead of the group, as a senior resident it was his duty to scope the scene first. He walked down the hall to a slightly ajar door, keeping wide breath with his weapon pointed to the floor. Many times these calls have been just a newbie trying to get some work done and messing up the access protocols. No need to have your weapon out to scare any poor workers dumb enough to trip an alarm.

Finally getting around the door he was able to look inside. Years of experience he knew to check the containment door first. If that door was open then extra caution is necessary. The door was still sealed, the light above glowing green. It was locked and untampered. Pico looked around the small room, almost a hallway, and found nothing out of sorts.

He walked out the room to the two other guards," Nothing amiss, perhaps one of the techies didn't close it all the way. The main door is still shut, call maintenance down to turn the alarm off, and check the lock."

"On it," someone answers.

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

12/22/16- An altercation between guard and doctor. Nonviolent, but harassment charges were filed against a guard, Princeton Adams, from Dr. Janet Wilco.

Dr. Janet Wilco was assigned to KC-S4905 after the incident with Brian Philips. Having experience with aggressive subjects she is all the more qualified to be part of this project. Some don't seem to see it that way, such as Princeton Adam. He was always tense whenever KC-S4905 was in the room, also questioning everyone to make sure the subject was really out. It irked Dr. Wilco to no end, having some overpaid babysitter to stand there with a gun acting like he knows even a smidge of medicine.

Today was no different.

"The beast is properly sedated," he asked as they wheeled KC-S4905 in. Dr. Wilco passed an unamused glance at Princeton.

"Of course Mr. Adams, we do know how to do our jobs," Dr. Wilco passed with a barely restrained sneer.

Princeton chuffed," So far as you think."

"What is that suppose to mean Mr. Adams?" Dr. Wilco turned to Princeton, her sneakers scuffing against the floor. Princeton looked down at her with an unentertained grin. Dr. Wilco felt patronized at the look.

"It means that if you techies knew how to do your job then Dr. Philips wouldn't be in the hospital," he bent low to be eye level," So excuse me for being sure. I rather not see your pretty face get all clawed up like Brian's back."

"You listen here you-," Dr. Wilco paused before she said something she regretted. Princeton chuffed again with more amusement. Dr. Wilco collected herself before speaking again. "The first time was because we assumed we knew the correct dose to be used on the subject. He burned through it pretty fast and now we know the correct amount to use that would both sedate him and not kill him. So if you would stop questioning me every time I do my job, I think we could be done with these little check-ups quickly," she answered with more professionalism than she believes she could muster.

Princeton stood straight with arms crossed. The conversation seemingly over Dr. Wilco turned and got back to work. It's with an off the shoulder comment did she lose her cool and give Princeton a tongue lashing that made even the second guard present blush.

Everyone heard, and everyone had thoughts on the matter. And when I do say everyone, I do mean everyone.

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

The guards' room is under surveillance 24/7. the area is more of an apartment than anything else. Having bunk beds present and a fully functioning kitchen in the same room. Another room attached has a lounge and a locker wall. It’s a comfortable enough place for guards to take their breaks, store their items, and catch up on some sleep before their next shift. Some believe it has to be the safest place in the building with its gun locker and lockdown functions.

It wouldn't be true as of Dec 23, 2016.

Princeton Adams settled down for a nap around midnight. Perhaps 40 minutes later the cameras go on the fritz, looking like the visuals were in a snowstorm with all the static. After about 5 minutes the screen cuts off, completely black, completely silent.

When the camera comes back on its around one in the morning. The screen shows Princeton resting against the floor surrounded by other workers, both guards and scientists alike. He was screaming and holding his face with bloody hands. His wails alerted residents in the hallway to rush to his location. As they reached him there was only him and severe cuts on his chest and face.

Princeton was rushed to medical. Treated for his wounds and given blood as most of his was on the floor of the guards' bedroom. Once he was settled and able to answer some question he was of no help. He remembers going to sleep then waking to a burning pain on his bare chest. He startled awake where he caught sight of a dark figure with white eyes. Before his eyes could adjust he was slapped across the face and promptly mauled.

Guards remain vigilant, no leads are found.

12/23/16 12:56am- Motion sensors tripped in guards' quarters in unit 23. One guard critically injured with lacerations across the chest and face. Guard was identified as Princeton Adams. The video cuts out before any movement is detected, coming back to the guard being surrounded by workers. All guards are permitted to hold live ammo with them at all times.

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

"giving 6mg of Midazolam," lab assistant Amy Borrell called to the room. Dr. Wilco nodded but focused on her clipboard, recording vitals as she walked to the cabinets. Once she finished she set her board down and began searching for supplies. Grabbing what she needs and set them on the metal rolling table. She glances at the large creature passed out on the table.

Wilco has always been fascinated by the strange and unusual. As a child, she adored watching monster flicks and horror movies. Amazed by the practical effects of monsters and how they are made. They have always had an allure to them, something captivating that Janet couldn't put her finger on. Her two career choices as a teenager were a doctor and special effects artist. As we all can see she has chosen to go the medical route. Lucky for her it brought her straight to this job. It’s a dream come true for Janet to work with monsters.

Looking at KC-S4905 or, as Dr. Wilco heard his alternate name, Kasey, she felt a kinship with him. She couldn't describe it but this creature has stood out to her, more than any of the others she has worked around. Perhaps it was his long neck or pointed teeth. Maybe it was his muscular body or piercing eyes. Either way, it wasn't something Dr. Wilco could put her finger on.

Continuing on with her work she was first to reach for the subject. As her gloved fingers brushed against his fur she noticed his stomach tense. Before she had time to even say a word Kasey lifted his head and snatched Wilco's arm. She immediately tried to jerk herself out of his hold but he held firm. White cold fear ran down her spine before she looked up at Kasey's white eyes and a wide smile. They both held each other's gaze as the room went silent. Nobody moved, nobody breathed.

Dr. Wilco stared into his piercing eyes and could only think, 'is he purring?"

1/3/17- The doctor grabbed during sample gathering. KC-S4905 was sedated but woke long enough to grab Dr. Wilco's arm. No injuries sustained, mandatory therapist meetings required to find further damages. Though the creature doesn't project mental abilities, precaution is used.

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1/4/17- door alarm activated in unit 23 worker's locker room. All lockers were opened, nothing reported stolen besides a single lab coat in locker 142. Owner not identified having refuse to step forward.

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

Dr. Bradshaw was added to the project shortly after Dr. Wilco. He was a stubborn man, perhaps a bit sexist or racist. Could be he just doesn't like Dr. Wilco. The two constantly butt heads during work, arguing over the simplest things till they both were red in the face.

One day that workplace arguing got a little too out of hand

"Dr. Wilco, do you insist on doing things the hard way? Does it make you feel like you are important," Dr. Bradshaw snarked. Dr. Wilco was currently setting up the IV drip for when they start surgery on Kasey, KC-S4905.

"And do you feel like a big man when you belittle coworkers," she snapped back. Before Dr. Bradshaw could retort back the door opened as Kas- KC-S4905 is rolled in.

The process went smoothly as lab assistants set up the heart pads and IV. Doctors cleaned up nearby wearing scrubs and gloves.

"Think you can handle something like this, wouldn’t want you to get cold feet in the middle of this operation on your little boyfriend," Dr. Bradshaw snorted. Ever since Janet was grabbed most of her coworkers have called her beauty. Referring to Beauty and the Beast or King Kong in their jesting. It didn't bother her, the names meant nothing. The situation around Kasey's gentle hold was more startling than their jokes. Still, when it comes from Dr. Bradshaw it's all the more aggravating.

"I should handle well. I'm more curious if you will be fine, I heard that you sometimes get squeamish around blood," She chuckles as does a few others in the room. Dr. Bradshaw is secretly known for his fainting in his younger days when he first drew blood. Having moved far away from the area it still sticks with him.

"Who told you that," Dr. Bradshaw snapped. It was shocking to Janet and most others in the room. Dr. Bradshaw turned and snarled down at Dr. Wilco, "Who told you, tell me you little bitch!"

"Whoa, Whoa," I held up my hands as I backed away," it's just a joke, calm down." Dr. Bradshaw continued his pursuit with fist clenched at his sides.

"No, it's not just some joke. I spent years of my career perfecting my skills and gaining great recognition. I do not deserve to be belittled by some woman for something that happened years ago," he backs her to the surgery table. Dr. Wilco braces her hands on the cold metal, looking around at the others for help.

"Hey, you're right. I'm sorry, how about we forget this and get back to work," she tried to deescalate. He was having none of it.

"No, fuck you, Janet. You dumb slut, I worked hard for this and I don’t want to hear your mouth anymore. So do us all a favor and know your fucking place," he snarled in her face. Before anyone could react he raised his hand and backhanded Dr. Wilco to the floor. She fell to her hands, banging her knees on the ground. Dr. Bradshaw seethed above her, feeling a little proud of himself.

It isn't until a loud growl pierces the air does anyone look away from the slapped woman. Dr. Bradshaw looks up in time to see an open mouth lunging for his face. He backs up enough to fall to the floor, but before he can make it a hand grabs his forearm. Quickly teeth sink around Dr. Bradshaw's elbow, scraping against the bone before his whole body is pushed away. He screams and flails, beating against the creature as he shakes his head. Soon Dr. Bradshaw falls to the ground, landing partially on a growing pile of blood. The creature lashes at him, cutting over his chest as two loud pops fill the room. The beast stops, Dr. Bradshaw stares at bloody teeth and closing eyes, seeing his mauled arm resting in its mouth. Then the creature falls to the floor, making its own pile of blood.

Guards usher workers out of the room and Dr. Bradshaw is dragged into the halls before being taken to medical. Kasey lays on the floor, barely catching his breath as he watches Janet look back before turning the corner and out of sight.

1/23/17- Altercation between Dr. Wilco and Dr. Bradshaw. Violence was used by Dr. Bradshaw and Dr. Wilco was forced back into a table. KC-S4905 woke from the sedative and attacked Dr. Bradshaw. Two live rounds were shot into the creature's leg and shoulder. Dr. Bradshaw is now in critical condition. His left arm forcibly detached from his elbow down. Medical was able to reattach the arm, he remains in their care till further notice. KC-S4905 was sedated and treated for injuries. Remaining in his cell until further notice, no interactions. Food is distributed by guards now.

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

1/26/17 2:30am- unauthorized entry into unit 23K-A. No further info provided

Dr. Wilco believes she has to see him. The day runs over and over in her mind all week. She is questioned and monitored like crazy before they leave her alone, moving on to another witness. As she spends her time alone, checking up on the camera watching Kasey, she thinks. Did he attack the first person he saw? Where the sedatives, not enough? Or where they never enough and he was always watching, listening? Then the ultimate questions circling her mind.

Did he do it for her?

After hours of thinking, making a decision then backing out, she goes for it. Nabbing a temporary pass from the office then sneaking down to containment. She cards herself in then stops in the first room. Closing the door silently behind herself she watches Kasey rest in the corner of his room. He is lounging in a circle, similar to a dog. His eyes were closed when she walked it but a few seconds later they are opened and staring straight at her.

Janet walks closer to the window, looking at his shaved shoulder. The director demanded medical to treat his wounds before he bled to death. They had to shave his fur to get a better look. The wound looks good, almost scarred. Fast healing was a thing that was recorded so it's not too surprising.

Kasey followed Janet's movements, too curious to look away. He couldn't think of a reason for her being here but accepted the blessing for what it was. He watches as she fiddles with her fingers, looking behind herself once in a while. She looks like she wants to say something, Kasey is eager to listen.

"Thank you," she answers. Kasey just barely catches it behind the thick glass. "I don't know if you attacked Dr. Bradshaw for me or you were just attacking out of fear but I still appreciate it either way. He was a very rude man. He didn’t die so I think I'm allowed to speak ill of him," she chuckled at the end," I read you can understand us for the most part, so… do you understand me?"

Kasey nodded.

"Oh," she started, shocked," good then. So, thank you and I need to go." she scurried off, closing the door quietly behind herself. Kasey figures quickly that she wasn't supposed to be in here. The camera most likely picked up here coming and going from here, Kasey would deal with it.

When the night progressed Kasey assumed it would be safe enough to travel. He moved the tile on the floor, shoving a lab coat out of the way before escaping.

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

2/1/17- routine cleaning of 23K-A finds a lab coat hidden behind a floor tile. Coat belongs to Dr. Wilco.

2/1/17- subject upgraded from Euclid to Keter

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3/5/17- KC-S4905 drugged for a check-up. Took well to the new substances. Precaution; table with limb locks used. The creature managed to fight stronger sedatives used for transportation and cornered Dr. Wilco to the far wall. No shots fired, creature retreated on their own. Dr. Wilco sustained no injuries. Therapy sessions mandatory. Partial transcript below.

Transcript: Janet Wilco and Dr. Jung ….. Dr. Jung: You say that he spoke to you?

Dr. Wilco: yes. He had a deep gravely voice that kind of rumbles into my chest.

Dr. Jung: what did he say?

silence

Dr. Jung: go on, it's ok. The more we know the better, but don't feel pressured. ok, Janet?

Dr. Wilco: He said 'you smell like roses'.

Dr. Jung: is that all he said?

Dr. Wilco: …Yes.

…..

End.

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3/7/17- with constant incidents with Dr. Janet Wilco, she is now assigned to a different unit.

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3/24/17- Door alarm activated in the Doctor locker room in unit 23. all lockers open similar to 1/4/20 incident. Nothing was stolen. Locker 142 door was forcibly removed. The locker is currently empty, as was at the time of the incident.

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4/2/17- Guard doing patrol reported to odd noises coming from Break Room 32C in unit 20. The call was made at 4:22am to control. Transcript below.

Transcript: Security guard Jose Pérez ….. Pérez: I hear a strange noise coming from 32C in unit 20. request to investigate

Control: go ahead. Stay on the line

Pérez: copy

sound of footsteps

Pérez: Hello! Anyone in here? I am currently armed so make yourself known now.

Footsteps followed by soft groaning noises

Pérez: Hello? Please make yourself known now.

Background feminine voice: Kasey

Pérez: Miss? Are you injured? Say something, miss.

Control: Have you found who was making the noise?

Pérez: No, I hear someone.

Growling and high wails

Pérez: Oh Fuck. I think someone is getting mauled.

Frantic footsteps. Wails increasing in volumes

Control: Pérez report

Pérez: Oh god.

Control: Report

shouting and growling

…..

End

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

Janet unbuttons her top in the empty locker room. Her mind wonders a mile a minute as she thinks back on her time working on the KC project. She finds the audacity to reassign her ridiculous. It was hardly her fault that things went the way they did. Some coworkers were insufferable, that had nothing to do with her. Then the attacks linked back to the subject wasn't her doings either. Its impressive that Kasey managed to avoid detection for so long, sneaking out the tile on the floor. There are theories being pushed about between workers about how he managed to dig a hole without being noticed. It’s a curious thing.

Janet dressed into her casual clothes, ready to head to the bunks to get some rest. She closes the locker, it clicking into place, before reaching to the bench for her bag. As she grabs the handle she faintly hears a different clicking sound. She stills, looking around the room. She listens, hearing nothing she calls out.

"Hello," her voice echoes throughout the room. The clicking starts again, coming from behind the wall of lockers in front of her. She waits for an answers, a sign of someone else being here. Janet waits with bated breath for any indication.

"You left," a deep gravely voice calls from behind her. Startled, Janet jumps, turning quickly to the source of the voice. At first she sees nothing, the room mostly dark as she didn’t bother turning more than one set of lights on. It isn't till two white eyes meet hers does she know who it is.

The soft sound of nails clicking against metal is all she hears as he shifts into the light. He sits perched above the lockers, crouched on all fours. Above him a ceiling panels is missing. As he gets closer, his hand slamming against a locker, Janet steps back. The back of her knee bumps the bench, making her sit.

"You left, Janet," he growls out again. He sneers, his teeth shining in the low light of the room. Janet sits there in a mix of emotions. Startled, confused, alarmed, but curious.

"Left what," she manages to ask. Kasey growls at her answer, jumping down off the lockers and onto the floor. He quickly makes his way to Janet, clawing his fingers into the wooden bench on either side of her. Janet sucks in a gasp, tilting away as she comes face to face with him.

"You weren't there anymore," he huffs. Janet sits back as far as she can on her hands, her head turned away. He seethes on her face, sitting inches away.

"I-I had no choice," she chokes out.

"No choice," he hisses.

"Yea, I had no choice. I was reassigned," she whimpers. His nearness and low rumbling growls do nothing to settle her nerves. Despite her lately romanticizing thoughts of his actions she wasn't naïve enough to apply them here. Not when his sharp incisors are inches from her cheek.

Kasey clenches the bench tightly, unapproving of the attempts to rid her. Finding her was a challenge for him, not knowing where she could be. It was frustrating the first time he was sedated since she left, not getting to inhale her comforting scent during such a stressful time. That would be the first time he let the affects of the sedative alter his alertness. If she wasn't there then he didn't want to be either.

"They tried to keep you away from me," he bumps his head against hers," but they cannot keep me from you."

As he begins to rub his face against her she lets those thoughts come unfiltered. So he is interested, that’s a not so uninteresting thought as she figured it would. Ever since Janet first met him she was impressed with what she saw. He is appealing in ways men she has been with before have not. He has protected her when others haven't and he seems devoted to her. It was a strange thought but Janet is all for it.

Janet turns into him, rubbing her cheek against his. She lifts one hand to his on the bench, feeling his warm fur against her fingers. She startles a bit when he begins to purr, just like the first time he touched her. Janet licks her lips before stroking up his arm and around to his shoulder. She can feel the rumbling of his pleased growls. As she reaches his neck he licks up her's. Janet gasps, the tingling sensation running down her spine and into her crotch. Her nails dig into his fur, grabbing it by the fistful as he settles her shoulder in his mouth. His sharp dangerous teeth barely dig into her skin.

"No one can keep you from me, " he growls around his mouthful," I will have you this night." One hand unbeds itself from the bench and rests against Janet's back. He tugs her forward till her chest is flush with his. The feeling of her in his arms, safe against him, makes his chest feel full. Yes, he will have her this night.

"o-ok," Janet answers a bit dazed. She knows this should be alarming, if not off putting, but Janet doesn't care. This feels right, that’s the only thing that has felt right in a long while.

Kasey purrs with a large grin, all the more excited now his female accepted this, accepted him. He licks and nibbles her neck as his hand pets and gropes her hips. His cock hot and ready but the little he knows about females, let alone human females, is that she needs more time to be ready. Kasey slides her off the bench and onto the floor, his eagerness showing between their bodies.

Janet gets a slight view of his rod, it being too dark to see it all. She does notice a large bulb at his base, before she can question it her shirt is ripped open. Janet yelps as her body jiggles with the sudden force. Her bra is ripped next leaving her bare and open to Kasey's all too pleased gaze. He likes what he sees, reaching out and groping her chest with both hands. Janet sits back on the cold floor, arms resting on either side of her head. She chuckles to herself at the absurdity of the situation. The strangeness is outweighed by the heat in her pants as his claws carefully pinch at her skin.

Her clothes are removed promptly, Kasey excited to bury himself into her awaiting heat, not before he gets a taste. Janet watches as he rests on his stomach, staring down with his wide grin at her cunt. He licks his lips, Janet groans with anticipation. They both wait with bated breath as he lowers his mouth to her, quickly licking a long stripe up her. They both moan at the feeling. Kasey already believing she is the best tasting thing on the planet. Janet can't believe she is really getting eaten out by one the monsters she works with.

Kasey worships her with his mouth, licking up every drop of her. He grunts and groans against her as his cock pulses against the floor. His palms cup her ass as he grind her into his face. His back nails dig into the concrete floor as he fights the urge to buck against the ground.

Janet whimpers and cries out, squirming in his hold as she fists her hair. She fights her fast approaching climax, wanting to ride his mouth just a little longer. Its when she feels his nails prick against her skin, feels his rumbling purrs against her, and sees his tail wagging behind him does she give up on the fight. With a shout and an arch of her back does she cum on his face.

Kasey licks up every drop, adoring the way she wiggles in his hold and buck against his tongue. Oh he plans to do that often. He think about doing it again till his cock pulses again between his stomach and the cold ground. Hearing Janet cry out had him nearly cumming on the floor, wasting his seed on his chest rather than inside her.

Janet pants as she watches Kasey climb up her body. His teeth sparkle in the light making her shudder as she knows some of her slick is on those teeth. Janet reaches out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he settles above her. He leans down and licks over her mouth, delving in when she opens for him. Janet sucks on his tongue, carding her finger through his hair as she does.

As Janet is busy Kasey takes the time to align himself with her awaiting heat. His eyes roll back as his tip presses to her hole. Kasey grabs her hips and sits up to watch himself enter her. Looking down at his cock he passes just a glance up at Janet. He takes in her overeager grin, her heaving chest, and flush cheeks. Kasey adores what he can do to her, knowing fully well he is the reason she is so ragged looking. He smirks down at her before pressing in.

Janet chokes on a gasp as his cock fills her up. The stretch is divine as is the feeling of his fur sliding across her thighs. He rests against her thighs with a grunt, finally settled as far as he is willing to go for now. She will take his knot later. He lightly bucks his hips at the thought.

He thrusts into her without a care. Janet can feel him deep inside her, her walls fluttering around him as she watches his hips slam into her's. he holds her, pulling her against him with each beautiful glide of his cock. He already feels ready to burst, ready to give in to her tight cunt. Janet sits in for the ride, watching every clench of his stomach, every hiss coming from between his teeth, and hear the clap of their hips. She can't stop the whimpers and cries the escape her parted lips.

"Kasey," Janet shouts as he slams into her. He gives up on watching her pussy take him and falls to his hands. He wildly thrusts into her, completely adoring the way she grips his cock. He can't hold on any longer, she has to take him completely.

He slaps his hips harder into her, opening her thigh wider with a hand as he tries to force his knot. Janet feels the hard piece begging for entrance. Was this the bulb as his base? She isn't quite sure she can take that as she already feels completely stuffed. Kasey doesn't quit in his efforts, leaning into her with a particularly hard buck of his hips. He feels her give just a bit, he keeps pushing. Kasey feels her open for him, allowing just enough room for him to pop into place.

"Agh, fuck." Janet groans and Kasey whimpers into her neck. His high pitched wails make Janet hold him closer, petting along his hair as she tries to adjust to the new intrusion.

"Perfect, too perfect," Kasey cries out. He gives small bucks of his hips that drive Janet wild. She gives in faster than she thought possible, clenching and spasming around him. Kasey whimpers louder as she grips him harder than he could ever imagine. His tongue hangs out his mouth, panting as his thighs shake. His balls clench up and when he listens to her own cries of pleasure does he shoot his seed into her. He turns his head and sinks his teeth into her soft, delicate flesh. He is only mildly aware of how fragile she is, holding back just barely as he marks his mate.

Kasey and Janet catch their breath on the now warm floor. Janet's sweat sticks to Kasey's fur. Kasey's teeth sit just barely in Janet's flesh. They can both barely hear the sound of his tail wagging behind them. Janet would laugh if she wasn't so exhausted. Instead she sits lax against the floor hearing a soft keening coming from Kasey.

"You alright," Janet asks. Kasey finally lets her go, sitting up to look down at her. His wide grin show off his blood stained teeth. He licks them clean before resting his head to hers.

"Perfect," he grumbles. They share a smile, all too content with what they have done.

Janet still feels Kasey cumming, his hot load making her squirm in frustration. Kasey looks between them before meeting her eyes, he tilts his head in questions before running his hand down her stomach. Janet nods, dropping her head back as his hand meets her clit. He rubs her as his hips buck. As he listens to her cries of pleasure he misses the sound of a door opening.

Upon later reflection he blames himself for what happens, knowing he is way more aware than this.

As she cums on his cock for the second time a man calls out from behind them. Kasey looks over his shoulder to see a guard pointing a gun at them both. Quickly Kasey pulls out of Janet's all too comfortable cunt. He winces along with Janet at the pain but its short lived before he picks her up.

Kasey settles Janet in the corner of the room, holding himself as a shield in front of her. Kasey snarls and growls at the guard, protecting his new mate from the intruder. Kasey's mind was still a bit fuzzy but he knew that he needed to protect her. He will protect her.

4/2/17- Guards flank to storage room 32C to scene of subject KC-S4905 and Dr. Wilco copulating on the floor. Backed into a corner, KC-S4905 hides Dr. Wilco in the corner while snarling at security. No shots fired, all participants go willingly.

4/2/17- Medical eval. Shows semen found in and around Janet Wilco's vagina. Bruises covering most of the inner thigh, hips, and one on her neck. Small cuts on her posterior and hips. minuscule puncture wounds on her neck and shoulder. No serious injuries. Psych eval. Results are inconclusive.

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4/5/17- Dr. Janet Wilco is forcibly let go and on constant surveillance until further notice.

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5/23/17- Despite transferring to a more secure containment, KC-S4905 has escaped the facility.

5/23/17- Janet Wilco is missing.

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KC-S4905 is still currently missing. Janet Wilco's missing person search has been disbanded and she is now considered dead as of 2/25/18

End of KC-S4905 (Kasey)

Director Cameron H. Stanley

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If you made it to the end I'm proud of you. this is extremely experimental and I figure most people won’t enjoy this. I know little to nothing about SCP stuff but I was reading one and I got this idea to tell a love story in one. At first, it was just incident reports and no little story bits in the middle. but it got away from me and here we are.

I realized like halfway through this that I was pretty much ripping off Strigoi boyfriend from Somanyfangs on twitter (I tried posting the link but its not working). so credit is due here. besides that, this was all original. I hope you liked it cause I'm so iffy on this one.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist| Main Blog

#scp fanfiction #Kasey x Janet #Kasey the SCP #monster boyfriend #monster lover #exophilia #Enigma-IM

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kaoru-takaida · 3 years

Text

MHA Collab Fanfic

CHAPTER 3: The Meaning of Strength

When the bus stops at the rest stop, two Pro Heroes with cat outfits reveal themselves to the class. Ones Kaoru is very familiar with. Both Kaoru and Midoriya gasp in excitement. "Oh wow! My Uncle is a big fan!" Kaoru tells Bakugou. Bakugou seems distracted however. "Hm?" Kaoru looks over at him. "Is something wrong?"

"Why'd we stop in the middle of nowhere?" He asks. Before they knew what was happening, the other students were bolting towards the bus.

"Eh?" And in the blink of an eye, all of Kaoru's classmates had been swept over the cliffside by a wave of dirt and earth. Even Kaoru lost their footing but before they could stumble over the cliff, Aizawa uses his capture scarf to snag Kaoru. It winds around them and he yanks Kaoru back up, holding them up like a fish on a hook. "Mr. Aizawa?"

"Before you go off with the rest of them, I need to have a little chat with you." He says. Kaoru keeps a perplexed look on their face. He holds up his cellphone showing multiple missed calls. "Your uncle has been trying to call me… consistently…"

Kaoru grimaces nervously, recognizing the number. "He left a message saying he wanted you to come back home. Be honest, should I listen to him?"

Kaoru looks away for a second. "I, uh." They hesitate. "I'm not sure what you're asking." Kaoru replies.

Aizawa sighs. "I'm asking if there's a reason why he'd be worried and whether or not I should drag you back by force."

Kaoru clenches thier fist. Down on the ground as everyone fights a dirt clod created by Pixie Bob in the form of a beast, Bakugou and Kirishima take a second to look up at the cliff where Aizawa has Kaoru dangling by his scarf, talking. He scowls. "Wonder what they're talking about." Kirishima says. Bakugou scoffs.

"Like I care." He says, looking for the next threat. He charges into the fold. Kirishima takes one last glance at Kaoru and Aizawa and follows Bakugou.

Aizawa's eyes are wide at Kaoru's explanation. They give him a look that he can only place as a mixture of concern, sadness, and pleading. "You're kidding me…" He says.

Kaoru's scowls a bit now. "Mr. Aizawa… " Kaoru clenches their fists at their side. "I… want to be a Hero. I want to get stronger, train harder." They look at the ground below them. "I would be on my hands and knees begging you, but…" They look up at him, eyebrows pursed. "Please, sir, let me stay."

Aizawa looks at Kaoru for a good long moment, contemplating what to do. This kid… He closes his eyes now. "Alright. I'll call and let him know you're staying." He looks off at the distance, no doubt where the camp base was in the middle of the forest. "Besides, you're as safe as you're gonna get. Only a select few knows where we'll be." He gives Kaoru one last look. "Not even the League should be able to find us"

Kaoru sighs in relief. "Thank you so much." They say, bowing their head a bit. Aizawa gently lowers Kaoru to the ground below.

"Now get going." He orders.

They nod, giving him a determined smile. "Yes, sir!" They say. Kaoru runs off to catch up with their classmates. Aizawa rubs the back of his neck watching Kaoru a moment.

I'll have to keep my eye on them… He thinks to himself. His cellphone starts to ring and he looks at the number. "Of course."

Kaoru tries to keep their cool, but can't help but feel their blood boil at the thought of their uncle harassing their teacher. They sprint through the forest. I don't care what Uncle thinks. Kaoru spots a huge dirt clod monster as they catch up with the other students. They activate their Quirk, sprinting even faster as energy builds within their fox paw feet. They spring upward and drop onto the dirt clod monster's head. An explosion rings out and a small puff of flames makes the beast's head burst as Kaoru kicks down on it with both paws. I WILL become a hero. No matter what. Kaoru flips backward and lands on all fours with a soft landing. The beast crumbles away. They watch as the chunks of dirt fall. And then I'll find out the whole truth behind my existence.

After reaching the camp a little after 5pm, Kaoru collapses next to Kaminari and Sero. Kaoru pants, exhausted, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. Sero and Kaminari give them a wide eyed look of surprise. "Wow, Kaoru. You really pushed yourself out there, huh?" Sero asks. Kaoru sits up, tucking their legs under them and their skirt.

"Yeah." They take a deep breath, wiping dirt from their cheek. "My Quirk only allows me to amplify my output of energy by combining my own strength with the energy I take in. As a result, endurance matches and drawn out battles aren't really my forte."

Kaminari puts a hand to his chin. "I guess that makes sense. Even your Quirk has its limits."

Aizawa walks up behind the three of them. "Kaoru's limit is a bit easier to hit than the rest of you students." Aizawa explains. "Over in the U.S., few schools tailor their teaching of Quirks individually like we do." Kaminari and Sero frown. "Instead they'll focus on what all Quirks have in common and teach in ways that everyone could benefit." Aizawa puts a hand out, gesturing to Kaoru who doesn't look too pleased remembering this fact. "Think about it as the difference between regular school and prestigious academies. Kaoru, having only studied in regular education for a year and being home schooled a majority of their life, is severely behind compared to the rest of you."

Kaoru's ears drop down and they give a bitter and embarrassed glance to Sero and Kaminari. "I had to study like crazy to pass the special transfer exam for U.A." Kaoru admits. "It was the only thing I focused on for months. And my uncle practically beat the lessons into me. And then, I still had to keep in shape and focus on my Quirk for the physical aptitude exam."

Aizawa nods. "In the physical exam, there was a lot of wasted effort and things that could definitely be improved on." Kaoru glances at Kaminari and Sero. Then they look around at the rest of the class.

He's right. Everyone here is ahead of me by a whole semester. They've survived the USJ attack where they had to fight for their lives with villains. Kaoru looks down at their hands on the ground. And then they all proved how skilled and talented they were in the sports festival. I need to catch up, or else I'll be left behind. Kaoru pouts a bit, looking away.

Kaminari looked up at Mr. Aizawa. "That's right. Kaoru mentioned something about taking a special physical practical exam before. I'm curious. What exactly did that mean?" He asks.

Aizawa smiles now with a scary, almost sadistic smile. "They had to go toe to toe with yours truly to see if they were worthy to pass." Kaoru grimaces and tenses, shuddering at the memory.

Sero and Kaminari give them a panicked look. "That sounds horrifying!" They say in unison.

Kaoru sighs to themself, leaving the girl's room. After carrying their stuff in, they were starving. "Hey, idiot." Bakugou's voice says. Kaoru sees him walking toward them, hands in his uniform's pants pockets. Just like them, Bakugou was all battered and bruised from fighting the monster dirt clods in the forest. Kaoru's eyes light up.

"Oh. Bakugou. Got all your stuff in the boys' room?" Kaoru asks.

Bakugou scoffs. "Of course I did. It was a piece of cake." Kaoru blinks as he grows quiet. "I wanted to say that you didn't need to defend me when Aizawa was about to punish me the other day."

Kaoru purses their eyebrows. "But, Bakugou, that was all my fault. You didn't deserve to be punished."

Bakugou sighs. "I did. I acted like an ass. So…" He scowls. "Just take it, okay?"

Kaoru cocks an eyebrow, tilting their head to the side, ears perked. "Take what?" Kaoru asks after a few seconds of awkward silence . "I'm confused."

Bakugou purses his lips into a small frown, looking a bit irritated. "I... didn't need your apology either… Not when I was the one who needed to apologize first. But you went and did it anyway. Just like how you defended me." He says softly.

Kaoru's eyes widened with realization. He's trying to say "thank you", huh? Kaoru smiles a small smile. And trying to apologize, too… What a weirdo. He can't just say it, can he? Kaoru thinks. "Oh. I see." Kaoru gives him a bigger, brighter smile. "Yeah. You're right. You didn't need me to. But I did anyway."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitches slightly and he grimaces. "What's with that stupid look on your face?" He hisses.

Kaoru laughs lightly. "Oh. It's nothing."

Bakugou scoffs again. "Whatever, dumbass." He turns and waves for Kaoru to follow. "Anyway, those weird cat ladies are serving dinner. Let's get some food before there's none left, moron."

Kaoru catches up to him. "You know what! To make it up to me, why don't you let me call you Kacchan?"

"What?! No way in hell!"

"Aw. Please?"

"I said no."

"Pretty please?"

"Ugh. If I let you, will you leave me the hell alone?"

"Probably not."

"Then the answer is still no!"

"Nah, I think I'll call you Kacchan anyway."

"Do it and I'll kill you!"

"Haha!"

"So, why do you want to be a Hero?" Kaoru asks Bakugou. He stops eating, halting his chopsticks.

"Huh?"

Kaoru smiles. "I'm curious. What made you want to be a hero?" Kaoru takes a sip of their tea. "I can't really imagine you wanting to be anything else. So it makes me curious."

Bakugou scoffs. "Why would I tell you that?" He says, taking another bite, clearly dodging the question. Kaoru shrugs and takes a bite of their own rice. Bakugou looks over, chewing his food quietly. He swallows and then very nonchalantly asks. "What about you?" Kaoru looks up at him, mid chew. They point to themself. "Why would you want to be a hero?" Bakugou asks.

Kaoru considers it a moment before swallowing their food. "I… can't really explain it." Kaoru begins. "A part of me just yearns to be a hero. And then another part of me wants to be strong." Kaoru places their bowl onto the table. They look around to double check if any of the other students were listening. They were all going about with their meals. It was just Kaoru and Bakugou at this table, so Kaoru sighs a bit before looking at him. "To be honest, this is a secret, but I've been running from something big for as long as I can remember." Bakugou's eyebrow clenched into a concerned scowl. Kaoru looks down at the scars on their hands. "A group of people are after me from what my uncle told me. I… actually have no memory of my childhood. The first memory I actually have is of the night my uncle found me."

"Found you?" Bakugou asks.

Kaoru nods. They smile a sad smile. "My uncle is actually my adoptive parent. My guardian." Kaoru closes their eyes. "I guess he found me in a very very dangerous situation, and saved me before I could be killed." Kaoru clenches their fists. "I don't remember much. But he took me in and took care of me." Kaoru smiles a sad smile at Bakugou now. "I want to be a Hero who can save people. The way my uncle saved me."

Kaoru leaves the girl's locker room at the hot springs. They'd decided to turn in early, but is caught by surprise as Mr. Aizawa walks up to them. "Teacher…" Kaoru says.

He points behind him with his thumb. "You have a moment?" Moments later, Kaoru and Aizawa are seated in the lobby area. Aizawa hands Kaoru a canned coffee with milk and sugar from the vending machine.

They give a little bow with their head before taking it. "Thank you, teacher." They say. Aizawa pulls a chair back and sits across the table from them. He opens his own can of black coffee and takes a sip. Kaoru opens their own can and takes a sip.

"The other students have a general idea of how to progress their Quirks." Aizawa begins. "I pulled you aside to ask you how you'd like to improve yours." Aizawa sets his can down on the table now. "It's important because what you do to improve your Quirk here will greatly impact how you use it in the future. And coming from a schooling system that lacked individuality, you're far behind in the progression of your Quirk compared to the students here." Kaoru rubs the side of their coffee can with one finger, looking rather discouraged. "I'm not saying this to make you feel inadequate. U.A. accepts only the best and brightest. And you got in with flying colors." Kaoru doesn't respond, looking very upset. Aizawa lifts his eyebrows slightly. "Do you need help finding a way? Or…" He then gives them a concerned look. "Was there something bothering you?"

Kirishima walks away from the boy's locker room towards the lobby. He stops, hearing voices. "I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble." Kaoru's voice says. Kirishima stays put, just around the corner, curious. "It seems like that's all I've been doing since I transferred to U.A."

Aizawa shakes his head. "With a school and class like the one you're in, things are bound to get complicated and hard." Aizawa crosses his arms. "Think you can tell me why you're really in U.A.?" Kirishima cocks an eyebrow. "You told me about a group of people who are after you." Kirishima feels his heart sink.

People are after Kaoru? Should I be eavesdropping? I mean in retrospect, eavesdropping isn't really all that manly but…

"But having seen the news about the USJ incident, directly involving our class, why did you choose class A?" Aizawa asks Kaoru.

Kirishima's interest is piqued further by the question. He holds his ground, his back against the wall. He's talking about the League of Villains attacking the USJ. He's right. If people are after Kaoru, why'd they decided to join our class specifically knowing they might be put in danger? Kirishima wonders.

Kaoru swallows hard. Looking down, their eyes hidden in shadow. "I want to get stronger to become a Hero." Kaoru says. They grip their pajama pants now. "My uncle doesn't want me here because he thinks I'm in danger and that I can't take care of myself and that I need protecting. But…"

When Kaoru doesn't finish the sentence, Aizawa presses them. "'But'?"

Kaoru looks up at Aizawa, scowling. "I want to be strong! Like All Might!" Aizawa's eyes widened. Kirishima feels his jaw drop. "I'm tired of not being able to do anything to help or even be able to fend for myself!" Kirishima chokes a bit, those words sinking in and making him see Kaoru completely differently. Someone he could relate to. "I want to save people, and do so without needing to be saved myself!" Kaoru clenches their fists. "All I've ever known is being protected and cared for by Uncle. But I don't want that anymore." Kaoru grasps at their hoodie, at their heart. "I want to be able to take care of Uncle too! To be strong enough to take care of others and save others!" They look away, a bitter look on their face as they clench their teeth, the grip on their shirt tightening. "But I can't do that if I'm weak and need to be saved or taken care of." Kaoru lifts a fist with their free hand. "I want my power to be used to save others and help the ones who need it. I want my power to be used to be a Hero." Kaoru smiles. "I chose class 1A because I saw how your students were in the Sports Festival."

Aizawa gives Kaoru a questionable look. "The Sports festival, huh?"

Kaoru nods. "I heard your commentary and saw how determined Class 1A was. That's when I decided to join this class. I saw this class, and wanted to be right there with them all." Kaoru claps their fist into the palm of their hand. "I want to see them become heroes too! And I want to be a hero!"

Kirishima can't help but smile to himself at hearing this. We're pretty similar in more ways than I thought. Kirishima thinks. Kirishima decides to walk away now, satisfied with hearing Kaoru's declaration and resolve. Hearing Kaoru say those things makes me even more determined to improve. He clenches his fists, lifting them up, looking at them in front of him as he walks. I know they said they prefer neutral or female pronouns but I gotta admit. That speech of theirs was pretty manly. He drops his fists, walking towards the boy's room. I can't let them show me up! I'll get stronger too! I can't wait!

Back in the lobby, Aizawa gives the fox girl an intrigued grin. "There you go." He tells them. "That's the conviction I needed to see from you." He points at Kaoru. "So do you know how you want to improve?"

Kaoru nods. "Yes, sir!" They smile at him. "Thank you, Teacher." They look down at their hands. "I guess saying things out loud like that can help you work through a problem. I'll have to remember that."

Aizawa nods. "Your teachers and I want you and all of your classmates to succeed to become the best heroes you can be. Just remember that." Kaoru nods. He sighs. "For you… that starts with calling your Uncle."

Kaoru gives him a spacey look, completely not expecting that. "Eh?"

Aizawa gives Kaoru a threatening glare. "For the love of God, call that man and get him to stop calling me."

Kaoru shivers, cowering a little, their ears pulled back in fear as their tail tucks between their legs. "Okay. W-Will do, sir."

#mha oc #bnha oc #my hero academia oc #boku no hero acadamia oc #my hero Academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academy fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #Kaoru Takaida #my mha oc #my bnha oc

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oneunexpected · 4 years

Text

I love Free Day because it means I can do Whatever I Want and I get to rb it to tucweek along with the incredible art pieces and insightful analysis other people have made and mine’s just, like, TUC as vines.

Anyway. Here’s the definitive power ranking of all minor characters* in the Underland Chronicles. It's quite long, because I tried to use every character.

Icarus -this DUUUUDE. This GUYYYYY. SUCKS! -“uh-oh looks like I’m infected with the plague better fly directly into a social gathering” -would be an anti-masker probably 0/10

Reekwell and Gushgore -Fangor and Shed part two, but unfunny this time. 1/10 y’all suck give me Fangor and Shed back

Purvox -Purvox is apparently a beautiful red spider who teaches Hazard how to “speak” Spinner. That’s cool. -that’s it. Why did Suzanne even feel the need to name her? I’m grateful for the extra details but 2/10

Ajax -mean. -nobody likes him -this is probably why he gets on so well with Solovet -some sort of flier general, it seems, which is pretty cool 2/10

Hero & Kent -twins, I guess that’s fun -they’re only like eight but they still Smirk Evilly. Good for them 2/10 just because there’s 2 of them

Anchel & Daphne -some randos Keeda mentions as dead. They probably had some sort of significance to be mentioned by name but We’ll Never Know. 2/10 RIP though. I’m sure you’re worth higher than this but I don’t even know who you are

Horatio -crony #1 -has a crush on Dulcet. Didn’t we all 3.5/10. Boosted solely by association with Dulcet

Marcus -crony #2 3/10

Wevox -thought her name was Weavox until I began writing this post -sort of “Was Margaret Thatcher a Girlboss?” vibes -“As it is, Vikus, we will not drink. Web them” is a RAW line and it bounces around my head sometimes -the spiders are clearly very crafty about their political relations but she was not going to hesitate for a MOMENT to consider the ramifications of killing the monarch of Regalia and we gotta respect that -docking points for the girlboss thing, though. 4/10

Stellovet -queen of insults you gotta be honest -had an INCREDIBLE amount of impact for only having like three lines. I remember being like 11 and reading so many fics on Fan Fiction Dot Net where she was a scheming villain -funny how Luxa thinks her endgame is just becoming a princess. She doesn’t care beyond that she just wants to be royalty 4/10

Chim -baby -ok she’s 5 -doesn’t do anything but look confused and help provide a gateway for Howard to look like a good person 5/10, for years of life. What’s even your name? Chimney?

Andromeda -she’s good. She is an Absolute Beast when she crosses the Waterway with Howard and Mareth, definitely saved Mareth’s life -loves Mareth very much :) -shuns Ares at first but comes around, we still gotta knock her for this though 5/10

Clawsin & Bloodlet & Ratriff -Some folks who go to Ripred’s side, Clawsin gets blinded from the Bane, Ratriff gets his arm ripped off by the Bane, it is what it is 5/10 collectively

Reflex -man’s got jokes -very helpful with the code -shoots streamers of silk around the room when they break it -came to Regalia secretly... secretly to whom? The spinners? The gnawers? Whatever, he’s a rebel either way -I had to look up his name though, so apparently not a lot of impact. Sorry Reflex 5/10

Treflex -announced he was joining the quest, then IMMEDIATELY died. Yes king give us nothing -made a good snack? Gross. 5/10

Cevian -the scene where they find her body is beautifully written and so heartbreaking. She’s the catalyst for the entire fourth book -gives Aurora the opportunity to make her first ever big impassioned speech. It’s what Aurora deserved -still, she doesn’t get any dialogue so I can’t vote her super high 5/10

Euripides -seems nice -always described as “Vikus’ big grey bat,” never just big bat, never just grey bat -tells Luxa to teach Gregor how to ride a bat because his neck is getting bruised lol -nice of him not to embarrass Gregor though 6/10 speak up for yourself, king

Pend -takes Boots back to Regalia after the moth brings her to the crawlers’ land -Vikus recognizes him by name which is really impressive since crawlers look pretty homogenous, although we are told Vikus is better than most at picking them out. Still, Pend is probably a high rolling crawler. 6/10

The scorpions -I know I’m supposed to be doing named characters but they’re pretty cool. The passage they’re in is a really fun read. Mad respect 6/10 I’ll see y’all in Scorpio szn, baby

Razor -showed SHAME and GUILT in the first book when he got called out by Ripred -raised Pearlpelt as if he was his own. In payment, Pearlpelt knocked him off a cliff and then tried to eat him to hide the evidence 6/10

Fangor and Shed -funny dudes. -apparently constantly drunk 6/10

Gox -Gox got shit DONE, okay? Gox got shit DONE. -would eat your carcass without a moment of hesitation. It’s fine. 6/10

Hermes -this guy is great! -brings Luxa her crown -gets seriously injured while protecting Lizzie on their way to Regalia -might be dead tbh no one ever says 7/10

Keeda -okay listen. Keeda’s great. Keeda is that warrior at the Battle of Marathon who ran all the way back to Athens to report their victory and immediately die, except Keeda was reporting that the gnawers were about to invade -listen I know she was dealing with some other stuff, but Vikus asks, “how many rats?” And she says “many. Many rats” ??? No estimate? “An army?” Whatever. We give her a pass. 7/10 RIP

Pandora -FUCK -her death was possibly the MOST disturbing passage I’ve ever read. I could see it so, so vividly in my head. Man I remember the horror -she just wanted to explore 7/10 but also 2/10 for emotional trauma

Queen Athena -ICONIC one-liner in Curse of the Warmbloods, absolutely demolishes the gnawers over their treatment of the nibblers -I’m really biased towards her because Athena is my favorite goddess -probably could’ve done more for Ares, especially as seeing she’s supposed to be perceptive and a really good judge of character and whatnot 7/10

Daedalus -flinches in fear when Boots says she’s gonna sing a for him, specifically -basically pledges his life to Lizzie in the event the Code Room is attacked so that’s very nice 7/10

Heronian -she’s in a full body cast, but that will not stop her. 8/10

Susannah -can we talk about how she lost both of her siblings and she just keeps trucking along? -REALLY wish we knew more about her -clearly Very Kind. Can you please ask your daughter to be nicer -takes really good care of everyone she comes across :) 8/10

Min -creaky old cockroach dance 9/10

Frill -was cool -taught everyone the marks of secret -taught Hamnet about pacifism and stuff too -I get the feeling she was wayyyyy more important to Hazard and Hamnet and their survival than Gregor’s narrative really dives into 9/10

Mr. Cormaci -nice man. Gave Gregor quarters. 10/10

Gregor’s grandma -cool lady, you can’t deny! -tells Gregor he can’t outrun his issues -has a super cool quilt -who IS Simon??? 10/10

Scalene, Euclidian, Root, Cube, and Newton -felt obligated to include all these kiddos because they are, in fact, named, even though none of them get any dialogue or anything else for that matter, really -Scalene was a little nibbler pup that found her mom in the Arena, Euclidian and Root are two more that the mom was looking for, Newton was one that no one claimed but some other guy was like “any of us will take him” which is :’) but also, so, so sad. -Cube was the pup Luxa named that ended up in the pit in the Firelands -Scalene and Newton survived a genocide and Euclidian which is baller any way you swing it 10/10

Tick -:( :( :( -the selflessness. -I shipped her with Temp when I was 8? I can’t answer for that 10/10

York -LMAOOOO this guy’s a LEGEND -7 ft tall. -fights with a zweihander. -says fuck, canonically. -hosts hundreds of nibbler refugees -very loving uncle to Luxa, helps her learn how to rule - his exasperated affection towards Howard when he finds out Howard stayed in the Firelands even after he got sick was very cute 10/10

Honorable mentions: Perdita and Dulcet Their roles are too big in the last book to be included in this list, but these ladies both get a 10/10.

#ucfw

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gear-project · 3 years

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4Gamer interviews Game Developers in a 2020 Year-end review.

Prominent Figures of the game industry look back on an extraordinary year (2020 edition). Source: 4Gamer.net (Main Article Here) Translation: ME (Gear-Project) -------------------------------- CCO (Chief Creative Officer) Director Daisuke Ishiwatari Representative Work: GUILTY GEAR Series

[Prominent Figures of the game industry look back on an extraordinary year: Question 1 Which game titles released in 2020 impressed (or shocked) you the most?]

SKYHILL, actually it was released several years ago, but I played it for the first time this year.

The objective of the game is simple: escape from a building where monsters roam and the game content is very compact. I can say this game made me rediscover the root of fun in games. There is a world and a storyline, but very little information is presented beyond what is necessary. However, I was immersed in this world while playing.

It's an indie game with a much smaller scale, but I felt the same excitement when I compared it to the big titles of today.

[Question 2: Which entertainment content released in 2020 impressed you the most?]

IT'S THE END: When you see it, it's over. (DVD)

A horror movie masterpiece released in theaters in 1990. This is a sequel to the remake.

As I was impressed with the first one, I am interested in remakes, but they never surpass the original. In fact, the first remake only left me with the impression of "I see, this is how it would be with the current expression." I had the impression that the fear that had been growing in my brain because of the lack of information was simply visualized.

However, this sequel to the first film has pushed the envelope with its visual technology as if to say "Well, then. Of course, the logic behind the construction of fear is solid, but there is also a lot of 'isn't this kind of situation scary'?" I'm not sure if this is the right sequel.

Whether or not it's the right sequel, I'm not sure, but I was honestly struck by it.

[Question 3: Who do you personally have your eyes on in 2020?]

Director Zack Snyder: I genuinely love the movie "Man of Steel".

I am personally excited that Zack Snyder, the director of Man of Steel, will be re-directing Justice League under his original vision.

[Question 4: What are your aspirations for 2021, and what is your message to 4Gamer readers?]

In recent years, most of the games that interest me have been in the indie world, and the games made by companies seem to be lacking in energy, except for big titles.

As a gamer, I'm looking forward to playing games on platforms that evolve year by year, but I think the number of manufacturers who can keep up with their production is decreasing.

I want to make interesting things, and I want everyone to play them. In order to achieve this in a fulfilling environment, I think it is necessary to have a sense of values that are not influenced by the times.

I'm currently putting all my energy in to the prodiction of [GUILTY GEAR STRIVE], the latest in the Guilty Gear series, but at the same time I'm thinking about hte future of the industry. In order to make the future brighter, I would like to make efforts to improve the production process. -------------------------------- ARC System Works General Battle Director Kazutoshi "Pachi" Sekine Representative Work: Granblue Fantasy Versus

[Prominent Figures of the game industry look back on an extraordinary year: Question 1 Which game titles released in 2020 impressed (or shocked) you the most?]

Fall Guys: Ultimate Knockout

I wanted to write a strategy for Fight of Animals, but it was released in December 2019, so I gave up.... So, without further ado... I have the impression that this title appeared like a Comet among the titles released this year.

I think it's great that they were able to release this title with a new world view in the midst of all the existing titles.

The pop design, music, and gameplay are all very well put together.

The game itself is simple at first glance, but there are many ingenious ways to make it easy to understand, and I was impressed with many of them.

[Question 2: Which entertainment content released in 2020 impressed you the most?]

Midnight Swan.

I don't know hot to describe it, but I remember feeling very emotional when I finished watching it. I don't know how to explain it because I can't digest it well, but I think it's a good movie. I also recommend "The Naked Director" and "The Way of the Beast" by Eiji Uchida, although they are completely different in style.

[Question 3: Who do you personally have your eyes on in 2020?]

NiziU. I think a lot of people were cheered up after the Corona disaster. I was hooked from Rainbow Pro and started checking out Twice. It's great to see how hard they are working and growing. I'm personally a fan of Mii-chan (although I want to support all of them), so I hope she comes back from her health problems.

I hope she will come back and give her best performance without hurrying or rushing. I will probably cry.

[Question 4: What are your aspirations for 2021, and what is your message to 4Gamer readers?]

The year 2020 is the year that Granblue Fantasy Versus was released and kept running. This title has entered Season 2, and as it is the middle of the season, development will continue. There are still more things to be announced, so I hope you will continue to enjoy the game.

This year, the Corona Disaster has changed our development system, the environment in which we play, and many other things, and it's been a year of constant heartache.

However, it was also a year of learning and realizing that we need to be more aware of the "bonds" we have with people. I hope that 2021 will be a year in which I can clear my pent up frustrations with fun. -------------------------------- ARC System Works Director-Fellow Toshimichi Mori Representative work: BlazBlue Series

[Prominent Figures of the game industry look back on an extraordinary year: Question 1 Which game titles released in 2020 impressed (or shocked) you the most?]

FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE.

There were other great titles such as "Ghost of Tsushima", but I dared to choose a remake. Since the original FF7 was such a masterpiece, it has a strong "memory correction" effect, and I'm sure there will be a variety of opinions such as "it's not like this" or "it's not like that". But in my opinion, this is a work that surpasses the memory correction in a good way. In other words, please continue the story on... as soon as possible. If you don't (Square-Enix), you'll be in a situation where memory corrections will be added memory corrections, which is incomprehensible.

[Question 2: Which entertainment content released in 2020 impressed you the most?]

I was shocked by "TENET". It is directed by Christopher Nolan, who I love, and this is another film that has caused a lot of controversy in many ways. The setting and expressions are wonderful, and I apologize for my lack of ability to contradict, but all I can say is "awesome". Every time I saw it, I made new discoveries, and it was a work that I went to the theater several times for, after a long time.

[Question 3: Who do you personally have your eyes on in 2020?]

Director Hideaki Anno. It is rumored that Shin Evangelion will be the end of the story, but since I was a 'direct hit generation' (impacted audience of that era) of.... Evangelion, I have a lot to think about. If I may add one more person to the list, it would be Koki Yoshimune from the Muv-Luv series. I personally love Muv-Luv, so I'm really interested in the Muve-Luve Alternative anime and other content development.

[Question 4: What are your aspirations for 2021, and what is your message to 4Gamer readers?]

2020.... has been a turbulent year for me personally in many ways.... it's still ongoing, so I'm worn out in many ways. However, I would like to put into practice the wise words of a passionate manga artist, "Smile when you're in trouble", and keep moving forward. I'm also hoping to move the BlazBlue Series in some way. -------------------------------- ARC System Works Producer Takeshi Yamanaka Representative works: Guilty Gear Series, Kill la Kill IF

[Prominent Figures of the game industry look back on an extraordinary year: Question 1 Which game titles released in 2020 impressed (or shocked) you the most?]

FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE. There were many titles to choose from, but I had a hard time choosing this one! I remembered the old days and enjoyed it to the fullest until I got the platinum trophy.

[Question 2: Which entertainment content released in 2020 impressed you the most?]

Blade of the Demise the Movie: Infinite Train Edition.

I can't not mention this one this year. The quality was breathtaking.

[Question 3: Who do you personally have your eyes on in 2020?]

Mr. Yokosawa of the world. He's a professional Poker player and I enjoy his work on YouTube.

[Question 4: What are your aspirations for 2021, and what is your message to 4Gamer readers?]

Dear 4Gamer readers, thank you for watching. The next generation consoles (PS5 and XBox SX) went on sale in 2020, and it looks like 2021 will be the year that titles for the new generation consoles will be released one after another. Our company will also be releasing "GUILTY GEAR -STRIVE-" in April, so please look forward to it. --------------------------------

#GG Interviews #ARC System Works #Daisuke Ishiwatari #Sekine Kazutoshi #Toshimichi Mori #Takeshi Yamanaka

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