#Sorry I haven’t been posting I’ve had THREE BACK TO BACK C RANKS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheshiresense · 5 years ago

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Could you do KoyoIchi (Swinging Pendulum), please? C: I have fallen in love with this ship ever since you posted those short one-shots (or whatever they are called) a while ago.

Hmm you didn’t include an AU and I’ve already done a KoyoIchi SP AU in the last batch, there’s not much else I can write for that I think. So how about KoyoIchi post-canon AU instead, where Ichigo’s human body gives out after the Quincy War, so he ends up splitting his time between SS and the Human world afterwards.

Edit: omg wtf did i do i went off i’m sorry this ended up semi-background pre-relationship KoyoIchi + like a dozen unrelated headcanons thrown in it’s a mess fml

1. It’s not usually done, he’s technically dead now (but not a Shinigami, not a Quincy, not a Hollow, and not even a Human anymore), but he has a lot of support from a lot of people - Kisuke has no qualms crafting him a gigai that would allow him to draw his blade even without stepping out of it, and Kyouraku basically gives him free run of Soul Society after they hammer out what Ichigo is supposed to do there considering he’s now stronger than the entire Gotei combined but also he’s technically only eighteen years old.

(It would be scarier, Kyouraku thinks, if Ichigo’s moral fibre hadn’t already proven itself superior.)

In the end, they settle it like this - Ichigo attends the Academy part-time for all the lessons Kisuke and Yoruichi and Shinji never bothered hammering into him because it was never important to the war, attends university in the human world, and the rest of his time is his do with as he pleases, whether that’s taking missions directly from Kyouraku, visiting with his friends in various squads and being roped into doing paperwork, or digging up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork (”Please don’t dig up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork for at least a month, Ichigo-kun. One month, you hear? We still haven’t finished cleanup from the last one.”).

Because it’s Ichigo, it works. it’s not like he wasn’t already coming and going from Soul Society when he was still human. The Shinigami have let him get away with far too much already to put restrictions on him now, especially considering he’s saved all their asses twice over now, and that’s not even counting all the trouble in-between. If there are some who complain, well, there are even more who are capable of making sure nothing ever comes of it.

So okay, no rebel faction, no secret invasion, but Ichigo’s not Ichigo without something to work towards, and he’s always wondered why the Shinigami side of his family was slumming it out in Rukongai when they’re supposed to be nobility like Byakuya and Yoruichi. The answer is simple enough - Aizen had mind-whammied everyone after Isshin ran off and fabricated a coup that resulted in assassinations courtesy of the Second Division before the remaining Shibas were ousted from Seireitei overnight.

(It was only too easy for Aizen to make them believe it.Nobody ever questioned whether or not the Shibas could. They had the power. They just never had the ambition, which nobody could understand.)

No way is Ichigo going to take that lying down. So he goes and yells at Kyouraku, who says it’s complicated and would take time, but Ichigo reminds him of the Visored and Kisuke and Yoruichi and Tessai, all let back in in the wake of the Winter War. If they could be pardoned, and rightfully so, why can’t the Shibas too?

“I’m not saying they can’t forever, Ichigo-kun,” Kyouraku says placatingly. “But Central 46 will want… assurances-”

“You mean they’re scared to let my family back in cuz they might still be a little bit pissed from having three-quarters of their members murdered in their beds,” Ichigo summarizes flatly.

Kyouraku sighs and gives up all pretenses of a neutral party. “If you have a better idea…” He waves a hand at the general situation, eyes dark and intent on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo snorts and straightens up. “Yeah. It’s called ‘being too strong to fuck with’. The old bastards are in session right now, aren’t they? I’ll be right back.”

One day, Kyouraku muses as he watches Ichigo go, this will probably not work, and it’ll come back to bite them all in the ass. Then again, Central 46 has run Soul Society their way or no one’s way for far too long; Yama-jii had always given them too much power. They’d learned nothing from Aizen, so maybe Ichigo is exactly what they deserve, straightforward and running on emotion, but fair, always, and decent in a way that Kyouraku thinks most of their government has forgotten how to be, if they ever knew to begin with.

One day, even Ichigo’s threats won’t make Central 46 back down. But a god doesn’t bow just because someone demands it, no matter how important they think their bloodline or rank or status is. And Ichigo is probably the closest thing they have to a god these days. A god, with plenty of friends to back him up if he needs it.

So Kyouraku leaves him to it - better Ichigo than him, less headaches in the long run - and he isn’t at all surprised when Ichigo sweeps back into his office five hours later, expression grim but triumphant, reiatsu still writhing like a living shadow around him as he informs Kyouraku that his clan will be needing their old estate back.

Kyouraku pushes over the paperwork he’d completed an hour ago, authorizing the full restoration and compensation of the Shiba Clan. Ichigo smiles at him almost fondly, features only slightly tinted with a banked sort of inhuman rage that he carries around almost constantly these days - it’s three steps left of his cousin’s memory, with Hollow glinting in his eyes and the shade of his ancestor draped across his shoulders. He’s gone again in the next moment, off to tell his family the excellent news, and Kyouraku thinks it was probably a good thing Yama-jii died when he did. However reasonable Ichigo still is, he is no longer that boy with the too-forgiving heart who took the insults they served him with all the doormatted self-sacrifice of a storybook hero.

(He came back from the Soul King Palace equal parts pensive and victorious, with old eyes and reiatsu levels they could no longer sense and a terrifying sort of detachment when he looked at them all. But his friends had fallen on him without care, only relief, and the icy distance in Ichigo’s mien had melted. Kyouraku had understood though, in that moment, that Soul Society would stand only so long as Ichigo allows it.

He likes Ichigo, he genuinely does. Jyuushirou had too. That hadn’t stopped his old friend from attempting to leash him, which had almost backfired in the end and literally only hadn’t out of the goodness of Ichigo’s heart, and it doesn’t stop Kyouraku now from catering to Ichigo’s whims. Only time would tell if this approach will work better or worse than Jyuushirou’s law-abiding one, and in the meanwhile, it doesn’t hurt that Ichigo doesn’t actually want anything Kyouraku doesn’t want to fix anyway. Soul Society has been his home for over nine centuries now. He does not want to see it burn. If that means dragging it kicking and screaming into a new era with a boy their world created to fight their wars for them looking over his shoulder, then Kyouraku will do it gladly.)

It takes almost three months for the Shibas to gather again and move back in. They’d scattered, after their exile, all across Rukongai, but Kuukaku is their head, and Ichigo has single-handedly wrested back their birthright for them, and when both of them call, the rest of the clan answers, trickling in in twos and threes and fours, suspicious and wary and not inclined to trust anyone but their own, but they come, and the first thing they do is raise wards around their home strong enough to withstand a siege from the Royal Guard.

“That’s everyone?” Ichigo asks, looking from the civilians to the once-Shinigami to the children. All in all, they barely make thirty total, and over half of them are from their retainer families.

Kuukaku shrugs tiredly at his side. She’s never looked older than she does now. “You know Isshin’s staying in the Human world for your sisters, but other than that, pretty much. Everyone else is dead.” She pauses. “Well, except one, but I doubt he’ll come. Kaien’s wife’s brother,” She adds for Ichigo’s benefit. “Koyonagi Senzou. He was the Kidou Corps Commander before Tessai, demoted to Academy teacher after some mission the higher-ups covered up. He was the only one the Gotei kept on after we were kicked out. Never found out whether he actually wanted to stay or if Central 46 insisted he stay. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. He’s wasted at the Academy, too useful to kill but too dangerous to let out of sight. As far as I know though, he’s still there.”

Ichigo frowns as he digests all this. “And he won’t come by to see you guys?”

Kuukaku shakes her head. “I doubt it. He was never really one of us.”

“Why not?”

Kuukaku shrugs again. “He never wanted to be. I didn’t know him very well, Ichigo, but he loved exactly one person, and she was more or less killed under Kaien’s watch. It wasn’t Nii-san’s fault of course, but she was sent out on a mission given to her by the Thirteenth Division lieutenant, and she never came back. He attended her funeral. That was the last time any of us saw him, although our Shinigami members reported glimpses of him in and around the Academy over the years.”

Ichigo hums. Kuukaku gives him an arch look and then snorts. “Shall I prepare a room for him anyway when I start renovations?”

Ichigo grins at her. “That’d be perfect, Kuukaku, thanks.”

2. Of course Senzou has heard of Kurosaki Ichigo. You’d have to be living under a rock in a cave in a different dimension to not have heard of Soul Society’s God-Slaying Saviour.

And of course he’s a Shiba. That lot always was more trouble than they were worth, too powerful for their own good, and too reckless or too confident or too stupid - Senzou has never really figured out which - to hide it from the world or at least play it down to keep the world from turning on them because of it. No subtlety at all. And look where it got them in the end.

In the aftermath of the Quincy War, he hears of the Shibas’ return to the city, and he can feel the power in the wards they almost immediately erect around their home. For protection, no doubt, because old dogs can learn new tricks after all, but to Senzou, it just looks like a very pretty cage. Why they - or the Visored for that matter - came back to serve the very people who betrayed them in some of the worst ways possible is beyond him.

Not that it makes much of a difference to Senzou. He’d ignored them for decades before their exile; no doubt, he’ll happily ignore them for decades more. They’re related only through an unfortunate marriage, and considering both parties are long dead now, what little obligation he had to them likewise expired years ago.

But, he thinks, as he watches an increasingly familiar head of orange hair slide into his classroom, someone forgot to give that memo to the Shibas’ newest pride and joy. Even Senzou - with expectations that literally no student has ever met - can admit that Kurosaki Ichigo attending Kidou lessons is a complete waste of time. Senzou spends his days teaching idiots the incantations for each of the ninety-nine standard spells, trying not to scratch his own eyes out when he has to grade their papers, and making sure they don’t blow themselves up when they practice producing them. Even the most advanced of the sixth-years can only manage spells in the fifties range, with a fifty-fifty chance of average-at-best success.

Ichigo memorized all the incantations in the first two weeks he was here. His first essay on the use of forbidden Kidou - instead of a regurgitation of laws citing the illegality of them that everyone else turned in - became a dissertation on their pros and cons, arguing that every case in which they’re used should be thoroughly investigated not only by Central 46 but also by a panel of Shinigami, and why the laws against them should be amended to allow for unexpected circumstances. The brat even had the gall to throw in quotes of interviews he’d conducted, and if it had been anyone else claiming to have received firsthand and eye-witness accounts of forbidden Kidou usage from names like Tsukabishi Tessai and Hirako Shinji, Senzou would’ve set them on fire for being such a bad liar. He couldn’t even fail the boy for incomplete research because the books he referenced might not be found in the Academy library but they all had Urahara Kisuke stamped on them.

And his practicals? A high level of reiatsu usually means the caster would have a harder time performing Kidou, especially when they’re first starting out, too much power shoved into the lower-level ones, too little control to hold together the higher-level ones.

Not Kurosaki Ichigo. That boy spent the first week putting holes into everything except his targets, went away for a weekend, and then came back with singed eyebrows and bags under his eyes but a resolute set to his jaw and picture-perfect Kidou at his fingertips. He didn’t even need the incantations anymore. And to make him even more of an anomaly, he could perform spells right up into the nineties. In fact, the higher the difficulty and reiatsu output, the better he was with them.

There is nothing the standard Kidou curriculum from any year can teach him. His learning curve is insane, and his essays read like he’s gearing up to go toe to toe with Central 46, never mind an Academy class.

He doesn’t need to be here. Senzou knows it. The other students know it. And Ichigo most certainly knows it too. And with the special allowances granted by the Soutaichou himself, he doesn’t even need permission to skip. The boy’s been given unprecedented free reign to come and go as he pleases, and yet he comes back, week after week after week. He doesn’t even have the decency to sleep through Senzou’s lectures. He’s a flickering candle in the corner of Senzou’s eye, all flame-bright hair and brown-gold-brown eyes and shadows that won’t stop moving, and that unwavering attention he pins on Senzou every time makes it damn clear exactly what he’s waiting for.

Shibas. No subtlety whatsoever.

The bell rings. Bags are packed. There’s a scramble for the door.

“Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou calls in bored tones without looking away from sadistically adding an extra assignment to the board. If no one notices, that’s their problem. “Stay behind.”

There are some interested whispers and prying eyes, but one glance from Senzou sends them scurrying away. And then Ichigo is there, sauntering up with his perpetual scowl - not at all like Kaien this one. The two are as charismatic as each other, from what Senzou’s observed. But Kaien had people wrapped around his finger because he had a knack for putting them at ease and making them feel special and making himself both approachable and worth looking up to. Ichigo on the other hand scared a lot of people when he first showed up at the Academy with an armful of books and a gruff disposition that didn’t lend itself to making allies, let alone friends. He wasn’t arrogant, just introverted, but it made him the kind of genius that people resented.

And then Senzou caught him in the hallway one day, looming over a mousy-looking fifth-year student huddled on the ground, and at first, he’d thought Kurosaki was bullying her. Everyone’s golden boy, picking on a shrinking violet of a girl. But then Ichigo had stooped down and gathered up all the books spilled across the floor before offering them back to the girl. The girl had still cowered, but she’d accepted them, and when Ichigo reached out and hauled her to her feet, she’d flinched but hadn’t moved away once she was on her feet again and Ichigo had let her go.

Then Ichigo had told her, quite clearly, “Next time someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, break their fucking wrists. Or kick them in the balls. Or tell them to fuck off. Start a scene so they have to stop. Do something. Don’t just fucking stand there.”

And then he’d stormed off, and the girl - Fujiwara, from the Kyouraku family - had stared after him, all baby-duckling wide eyes. And the next time Senzou had happened across her, it was just in time to see her chuck one of her textbooks at the head of one of her bullies. Said bully had staggered back, and then purpled with anger, already moving forward with fists clenched. Half a second later, he was on the ground and wailing from a broken nose, and Ichigo was standing over him, murder glowing gold in his eyes and black reiatsu streaking his hair and pooling at his feet.

Nobody had touched Fujiwara after that, especially since the girl had taken to following Ichigo around. Ichigo had still scowled like no one’s business, he’d also been seen kicking Fujiwara’s ass in one of the training rooms, they studied together in the library, and they ate together in the courtyard when Ichigo happened to stay for that.

And gradually, other students joined in, tentatively, some nervous, some with hero worship in their eyes, all hopeful. Ichigo never turned any of them away, but one day, he started a debate in the library about laws that would take species outside of Shinigami into consideration that ended with raised voices and enthusiastic opinions that got the whole giggling bunch thrown out, and another day, he suggested a free-for-all game of tag where only Kidou could be used to catch each other which ended with everyone sweaty and gasping and wanting another round, and in calmer in-betweens, he answered when the others finally asked him about what Hueco Mundo was like, what the Material world was like, what Arrancar were like, what Humans were like, and he never lost his temper with them even when he had to explain something more than once.

He was still blunt and borderline rude and not at all like Kaien, like a Shiba, not outgoing or friendly or instantly personable. But the charisma was the same, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, and it took weeks for Senzou to realize he was just as susceptible to it as Ichigo’s growing circle of friends within the Academy. So susceptible he was literally stalking him everywhere just to see what other chaos he was sowing.

That’s probably why he wants the boy gone so badly. He’d sworn he’d never forgive the Shiba Clan for taking his sister away from him, the only leeway they got was that he wouldn’t actively go after them either because Miyako wouldn’t want him to, and it wasn’t as if it was difficult to keep such a vow. He’d never liked the Shibas anyway. When they’d been slaughtered and cast out, and no assassins had shown up at his door in the aftermath, all he’d thought was good riddance.

But Kurosaki Ichigo…

Under any other circumstances, Senzou would be thrilled. Here is a student who challenged the world around him and brought a storm to the Academy.

But this isn’t any other circumstances, and as Ichigo stops in front of his desk, a beast glinting behind his eyes and a dead king’s inheritance pulsing in the shadow splashed at his feet, Senzou meets his gaze and slices a mocking smile in his direction.

“Kurosaki-chan,” He starts, smirk widening when Ichigo’s eyebrows twitch. “The Academy’s star part-time pupil. What exactly are you still doing in my class?”

Ichigo shrugs. “I signed up for it, your lectures aren’t boring, and I’m trying to figure you out.”

Senzou feels his smile grow fixed. “And how is that going for you?”

Ichigo scruffs a hand through his hair, pauses briefly to frown tug at the shoulder-length strands like he wants a haircut, and then shrugs again. “You’re the one following me around all the time, what do you think?”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Let me make one thing very clear, Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou finally says. For once, he doesn’t feel like weaving his usual mind games. “I don’t know what your clan has told you, but I have no desire to play happy families with them. I know you Shibas tend to be all about bringing family together, but I am not one of you.” His lip curls. “Do not push this issue any further than you have. Am I understood?”

Ichigo cocks his head, something animal in the way he watches Senzou now. “Kuukaku agreed to reserve a room for you at the compound if you ever want it, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not here for that.”

Senzou’s eyes narrow. “Then what are you here for?” He gives the boy a sardonic look and cuts him off preemptively. “Besides class.”

Ichigo grins, quicksilver bright, and something in Senzou recoils with surprise.

“I don’t really have a plan,” The boy tells him. “But I’m getting my family settled back in, and making sure nobody can fuck with them ever again.” He aims another considering look at Senzou. “If you don’t wanna be all buddy-buddy with them, that’s fine. It’s not any of my business if you wanna hammer your shit out with them or not. But you were connected to them even if you didn’t like it, and that doesn’t change just because that connection’s gone. So I guess what I wanted to figure out was whether or not someone’s fucking with you too.”

Senzou opens his mouth, then closes it when nothing comes out. How embarrassing. He settles for a derisive smile that feels a touch too brittle on his face. “I don’t need your protection, God-Slayer.”

Ichigo immediately makes a face. “Don’t call me that. And I didn’t say you did. But when I start something, I like to see it through, so I thought I’d check just to be sure.”

Senzou scoffs with disbelief. “Then why didn’t you just ask?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes like he thinks Senzou’s being dumb on purpose, which is a new experience for Senzou. Usually he’s the one rolling his eyes.

“Well you didn’t want me to, did you?” Ichigo says, looking exasperated now. “You were curious about me, and all the stalking was recon or whatever.” He levels a thoughtful look on Senzou before snorting with something like amusement. “You are the type. But yeah, anyway, now you know. If you need help, the offer’s open indefinitely. But I’ll stop coming to class if you don’t want me here.”

He trails off, arching an eyebrow in question. When Senzou doesn’t reply, the boy shrugs once more, adjusts the strap of his bag, and turns to leave.

Senzou… Well, he’s pretty much been on the back foot this entire conversation, hasn’t he? There’s something about Ichigo that just… throws him off. It’s frustrating. Unnerving.

And yet… Ichigo didn’t push. Kaien would’ve pushed. The rest of his family would’ve pushed. It’s what Shibas do when they want something - push and push until they get what they want, a single-minded persistence hidden under their signature cheerful geniality that makes the rest of the world believe them to be the nicest clan in all of Soul Society.

Miyako had said no, the first time Kaien had asked to court her. But he’d asked again and again, until she’d said yes, and she’d been happy to, Senzou had made certain of that, she’d been perfectly willing, had found a good man in Kaien and been glad she’d finally given him a chance.

But she’d said no first, and Kaien had pushed, and it just… rubbed Senzou the wrong way. Because once upon a time, Shinigami had plucked them out from Rukongai, dusted them off and provided the training and shuffled them into the military, all expenses paid, but no had never been an option, and that had become all the more true after Miyako became such a public, vulnerable figure, not only Third Seat of the Thirteenth but also wife of a clan head.

When Central 46 had come knocking, interested in Senzou’s prodigal skills with Kidou, they hadn’t even needed to drop Miyako’s name for Senzou to know that saying no then wasn’t an option either. He’d been pushed into their service, and it had taken Miyako’s death for Central 46 to finally leave him alone, solely because he had no one else for them to hold over his head.

It’s not the Shibas’ fault, not really. It’s been long enough that Senzou can admit that, if only to himself. Miyako’s choices were her own, and even if she hadn’t married him, Central 46 probably would’ve found another way to get to him through her. But Senzou has always been petty and vindictive at heart, and he’ll blame the Shibas for the rest of his life, because at the end of the day, they’re just like all the other nobles in this place. What they want, they’ll push until they get, because privilege is in their blood.

So Senzou flounders when Ichigo doesn’t push his advantage. The boy is already halfway to the door, and somehow, Senzou is certain, if he doesn’t say anything now, Ichigo won’t come back. It’s so wildly different from what he’d expected, so unexpectedly not-like-a-Shiba, that he has to fumble for something to say for an unforgivably long moment. Him, fumble. This whole conversation has been one unexpected surprise after another, and later, Senzou will blame the shock for his next decision.

“Wait.”

Ichigo stops and turns back. He doesn’t look surprised, but neither does he look triumphant or even just smug.

Senzou suppresses a grimace. “The school has nothing left to teach you about Kidou.”

Ichigo nods in unabashed agreement.

Senzou snorts softly. “But I do. And I guarantee it won’t bore you.”

Ichigo blinks, and a crooked smile slowly curls at his lips. It doesn’t erase his frown, but it softens his brow and makes his features look less harsh. “You sure you wanna teach me?”

Senzou scoffs and pulls out his chair. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He gives himself a mental shake and drags a grin back onto his face, sharp enough to cut. “Sit your ass down so we can figure out a schedule, Ichi-chan.”

Ichigo instantly loses the smile and glowers like a thundercloud. Senzou all but basks in the familiarity of it, inwardly relieved at being back on steadier ground.

“Don’t call me that, asshole!”

He probably shouldn’t have offered, should’ve just let him go and good riddance. But Senzou hasn’t been taken so off-guard so quickly in a long time, and it had been frustrating and unnerving but underneath both…

There is a storm waiting on the wings of Seireitei, and Kurosaki Ichigo is the one holding its reins.

And Senzou. Senzou is just curious enough to want to see what that storm will bring.

3. “Did your hair grow three inches over the weekend?” Senzou asks the moment Ichigo walks into one of their weekly lessons.

Ichigo dumps his bag in a chair and scowls at him. His hair has been swept up into a bun, which is certainly a feat considering the last time Senzou saw him three days ago, it had only brushed his shoulders.

“This body is seriously shit at regulating itself,” Ichigo grumbles. “I didn’t have time to go to the barber’s, and Kuukaku threatened to shave me bald if I tried to chop it off with my Zanpakutou again.”

Senzou squints at him. “You realize that’s not normal.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a knife on me, and it was getting in the way, okay? Don’t judge.”

This time, it’s Senzou’s turn to roll his eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant, Ichi-chan. Shinigami bodies don’t suddenly grow several inches of hair overnight.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ichigo mutters before shaking his head, and Senzou watches as black reiatsu crackles lazily across his shoulders. “I’m just kinda weird. Excess reiatsu plus funky biology apparently means random hair growth and dye jobs.” He shrugs. “Kisuke’s still figuring it out.”

Senzou hums noncommittally. “Urahara Kisuke. Your… mentor?”

Ichigo pulls out the books Senzou had given him last week, along with a notebook and the latest essay Senzou had assigned him. All are tagged with multiple sticky notes.

“Kind of?” Ichigo sounds like he isn’t all too sure himself and even less concerned about it. “He’s… Kisuke.”

Senzou eyes him curiously. “You don’t care that he basically engineered half your life then?”

Ichigo stills. Then he glances up with Hollow-gold eyes, and Senzou smiles and meets them without flinching.

“Why would you say that?” Ichigo asks in even tones, but the office suddenly seems darker.

Senzou shrugs carelessly. “Urahara has a bit of a reputation for… working outside the box. It’s not just me who thinks it, Ichi-chan. There aren’t many who knew him who wouldn’t take one look at you and guess that he had something to do with your existence.” He pauses. “Although admittedly, I suppose the worst of these rumours come from the ones who want him back most. Central 46 doesn’t benefit half as much without his skills in assassination and technological development. It must’ve been a blow to their egos when Urahara refused their invitation to come back after the Winter War. They might be hoping enough unease over any other projects he’s bound to be working on would be enough to make him come back under their protection-”

“That’s not called protection,” Ichigo growls, and Senzou stops, words withering on his tongue.

There is something about the black abyss of Ichigo’s unblinking stare that makes some base instinct in even Senzou want to back away, run, throw himself at this eldritch entity’s feet and beg for mercy. He squashes the urge and smiles like monsters don’t exist.

Ichigo blinks. The darkness in his eyes recede, and the room clears again, bright with the sunshine pouring in through the open window. A shadow passes over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Senzou catches a glimpse of fangs.

“Well that sucks,” The boy remarks succinctly like the silhouette on the far wall behind him doesn’t outline a grinning mouth with too many teeth. “It’s none of their business anyway. Kisuke prefers his shop. He’s his own boss there, and he likes it that way. Central 46 will just have to deal with Kurotsuchi.”

He flips open his notebook and shoves his essay over. “Now come on, we only have an hour today, and you said you’d go over this bit with me.”

Senzou nods and drops the subject. But three weeks later, he laughs when whispers tell of five Central 46 members retiring from their seats, replaced by one Shiba elder, one Shihouin, one Kuchiki, and two seated officers from the Gotei, one of which has served long enough that she doesn’t mind semi-retiring, and the other who prefers more time at a desk job over constant fieldwork. Both have roots that trace back to the slums of Rukongai. Twelve days after that, the Soutaichou announces a new official position filled by Urahara Kisuke - Human World Liaison - and a team of his choice, effective immediately.

“You don’t waste any time,” is Senzou’s greeting the next time he sees Ichigo after that debacle.

Ichigo, seated on the edge of the Academy roof and surveying the rest of Seireitei (like a ruler looking over his kingdom), waves a dismissive hand that trails solid shadows through the air. “People who’ve never been Shinigami shouldn’t be allowed to judge them. Kyouraku-san agreed.”

“I’m sure he did,” Senzou agrees, fighting near-hysterical glee down to a chuckle as he drops down to sit beside Ichigo.

He wonders if this is what it looks like, for a man to crown himself without even trying while most of the world cheers him on.

He glances to the side, arching an eyebrow when he finds Ichigo watching him. “Yes, Ichi-chan?”

There’s a disappointing lack of irritable twitching this time, but the thoughtful look Ichigo has levelled on him instead is more interesting.

“I have finals starting next week,” Ichigo says abruptly. “So I won’t be coming by the Academy until I’m done.”

Well, less interesting than he’d expected. “I’ll pick up your assignments for you,” Senzou offers, feeling generous. It’s not every day Central 46 takes a beating. He doesn’t care about Aizen, but if there was one thing he did right, it was butchering the judiciary authority on the way out. One group of them anyway.

Ichigo snorts. Rude. “Thanks, but I was thinking, you could join me down there for once instead of me coming up to meet you here. I want to concentrate on my university exams, but I have to eat and stretch my legs sometime. If you want, I could show you around campus. Kisuke can lend you a gigai so you won’t even have to request one from the Twelfth and wait for the acquisition forms to be approved.”

The first thing Senzou wants to say is I can’t. Because he can’t. Central 46 can’t make him do shit anymore, but short of slaughtering his way to the Senkaimon or disappearing into the Rukongai and living out the rest of his life as a fugitive, he can’t leave Seireitei. He doesn’t hate it here so much that he’d prefer either of those options, but the truth of the matter is, this is as much his home as it is his prison.

(A very pretty cage indeed.)

So he can’t, but Ichigo isn’t stupid, he should’ve already figured it out, or guessed, if not from the start after whatever his family told him about Senzou, then in the five months since. Stuck at the Academy because he’s too much of a wild card to go on missions.

Ichigo isn’t stupid, but neither is he cruel, not to those he has no quarrel with - that much Senzou can accept as truth. That he’s bringing this up anyway…

So, “How?” He asks instead, raising his eyebrows when Ichigo actually barks out a laugh. And then his eyes widen when Ichigo twists fingers through the air, and a Garganta springs into existence beside them.

“This can take us there,” Ichigo grins. “And no one will ever even know if you don’t want them to.”

Senzou stares from him to the murky void and back again. “…Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why would you offer?

They’ve known each other for five months, six if you count the one Senzou spent studying him. Most of that time has been spent in private tutoring sessions, and it’s benefitted Senzou as much as it has Ichigo. He technically shouldn’t be teaching Ichigo even half the Kidou Corps secrets he’s already imparted, but Ichigo makes it worth his while - quick on the uptake, a challenge in the sparring ring, and a breath of fresh air from the tedious drudgery of teaching his other students. Occasionally, they even go out for meals, tucked away in a quiet corner of a restaurant or a food stand. And sometimes, Ichigo brings souvenirs back with him from his trips to the Human world - fiction, toys, tech, trinkets the living modern age has that Soul Society does not - and he gifts them not only to his friends amongst the students but also to Senzou these days.

It’s a friendlier relationship than Senzou thought he’d ever have with anyone outside his sister, doubly so for a Shiba. Then again, Ichigo’s barely that, thank the Soul King, even if he was raised by one of the worst examples of that clan.

“Why not?” Ichigo counters, like it isn’t downright unnatural for anyone to do anything for Senzou, mostly because he’d rather stab himself in the face than fall into anybody’s debt. People avoid him when they can because he is cruel, and that’s the way Senzou likes it. He has high standards and little tolerance for things that bore him. Nothing bores him as easily as people do.

Until Ichigo.

“You don’t wanna be stuck here all the time,” Ichigo continues. “And I have an easy way out. So yeah, why not?”

Senzou turns his gaze to the horizion, past the sprawling streets and buildings of Seireitei to the sun setting beyond the wall.

He looks at the Garganta again. When Ichigo doesn’t move to stop him, he reaches over and lets his fingers drift past the mouth of the portal. The void is cool to the touch but not freezing the way he’d half-imagined.

He retrieves his hand. “A campus tour then?” He muses lightly, and Ichigo’s features brighten in response.

Senzou almost sighs. He thinks he might understand now. Ichigo is a little more like a Shiba after all. It’s just that he’s also a little more manipulative than one would expect of him. Senzou had all but told him not to interfere, to play hero for someone else, so Ichigo had backed off. But he’d figured out what Senzou wanted anyway, and his solution was to offer another way out instead.

Persistent, without disrespecting boundaries, and cunning enough to find another answer. In that regard, he’s nothing like his Shinigami relatives, who are always so loud about their intentions.

Charismatic, but… discreetly, almost insidiously so.

Senzou blinks. And then glances sharply at Ichigo again. His eyes look bronze in the light of the sunset, with the heat of his Hollow just beneath it. He has his head propped up against one loose fist, elbow balanced on one knee.

He smiles, almost guileless if not for the possessive resolve in the curve of that expression, and Senzou thinks, unbidden, ah. That’s how he won their devotion.

He gave his friends and family and allies everything they wanted, everything they needed, threw his heart and soul and body into every fight in their defense, shattered himself and rebuilt himself to protect the ones he’d taken under his wing, and so when the time came, how could any of them have done anything less for him?

It had probably not even been something Ichigo had done consciously from the beginning, it was just how he was built, through a quirk of the genetic fun park Urahara had ensured, or perhaps from the numerous near-death experiences life had forced him into. Ichigo probably hadn’t been aware, at first.

But he definitely is now.

Senzou thinks Ichigo is only just starting with him. Senzou’s already been claimed, because - for whatever reason - Ichigo wants him.

It probably says a lot that even this early on, even having already figured it out, Senzou… can’t say he cares enough to protest.

A Shiba in his bones, but leagues more dangerous by far.

4. The Human world is bigger than he remembers. Size-wise, it’s the same. But there’s a lot more in it than he thought, and he isn’t sure if that’s due to the passage of time or because he’d never spent more time than strictly necessary here when he took missions on the material plane back in the day.

Either way, he’s free to explore it now, even if just a small part of it for the time being. The campus of Ichigo’s school is large and sprawling, and with Urahara’s gigai and fake IDs and some Human money (he trades them for a box of seal traps even Tsukabishi Tessai wouldn’t know of because they’re Senzou’s own creation, and Urahara smiles like he understands and doesn’t object), it’s easy enough to come and go once Ichigo drops him off.

“You bought an apartment?” Senzou asks the first time Ichigo shows him the place and lets him poke around inside. It’s recognizably a living space, but it’s foreign to him all the same, with a generous open floor plan and wide windows, marble countertops in the kitchen and dark wooden cabinets and a bathroom constructed of polished chrome and gleaming tile.

“Kisuke bought me an apartment,” Ichigo corrects, flopping down on the couch where he has papers and books spread all over the coffee table and floor. His hair’s shorter today, barely past his shoulders, tipped black and hanging loose. Senzou is vaguely curious about what the boy’s classmates think of it.

“I wanted my own place,” Ichigo explains. “But Kisuke took one look at the rent I could afford and practically frog-marched me here instead. Then he had Yoruichi-san steal all my stuff and move it here, and then he said I might as well just take it because staying would be less work than moving all my stuff back.” He snorts, but it’s a fond sound. “The asshole. It’s not like I’d want to turn this place down. But it’s a bit much, so I try to help him with his research projects whenever I can in exchange.”

Senzou digests this with briefly raised eyebrows but says nothing. Urahara probably considers this another desperate form of making amends, and Ichigo probably knows it too. He probably wouldn’t have accepted otherwise.

“There’s a guest bedroom,” Ichigo calls after him as Senzou wanders down the hall to investigate exactly that. “Rukia’s stayed overnight, Renji too, and a few of my human friends have as well, but I always clean the place after they leave, so if you wanna stay tonight, feel free.”

That’s all the conversation between them for the rest of the day. Ichigo already showed him the campus the day before, and after tossing him a key to the apartment, Senzou is free to wander off and explore on his own.

Two weeks of regular visits to the Human world, and he still feels a little awkward in one of the shirts and jeans and sweater that that Quincy friend of Ichigo’s had shoved on him before whirlwinding back out again, apparently neck-deep in the middle of his own finals project.

“It’s Ishida, he makes clothes for everyone,” was Ichigo’s unhelpful clarification. “You help by walking around and looking good in them.”

So Senzou does, and part of him feels like he should stand out more, but nobody gives him more than a passing glance at most. Well, some do, but he recognizes shallow attraction well enough to ignore it.

In the end, he finds himself spending the most time in the libraries and lecture halls, slipping into the back of a classroom and listening to lessons he actually has to pay attention to to even understand some of what the professor is talking about. The science lectures mostly go over his head, and he’s never been interested in that field anyway so he doesn’t bother putting much effort into following them. It’s the literature courses he likes the most. There aren’t any at the Academy, not like this, and there are so many more books in so many more languages and genres than Senzou ever thought there existed in the world.

Soul Society suddenly seems so small in comparison.

It’s always an exercise in patience every time he has to return to Seireitei to teach now. After the first two weeks of almost daily trips to the Human world, he orders - on a whim - the students from his upper-year classes to split into groups before assigning each of them a project due at the end of the term on the theoretical creation of three new Kidou spells.

Group projects are not a thing at the Academy. Senzou wonders why.

He tells them that at least two of the research sources have to be from outside the Academy, and he smirks when he follows Fujiwara Asuka to the First Division compound to speak with her cousin, and then the Eighth to speak with her cousin’s former lieutenant, and then even braving the Fourth, straight-backed and stiff with anxiety but marching in anyway with her nervous group members in tow until she manages to wrangle fifteen minutes of time from a few of the healers willing to answer her questions about Kaidou.

Even here, Ichigo’s influence flourishes.

Outside the classroom, Senzou begins collecting copies of Human books. He half-bribes, half-blackmails the librarian into setting aside a section for him, and then he begins his own project of filling it.

“You’ve been busy,” Ichigo remarks when he staggers in from his last exam and collapses into a chair just as Senzou finishes setting the table for dinner.

Senzou arches an eyebrow, smirking when Ichigo just rolls his eyes.

“People tell me things,” Ichigo informs him, barely waiting for Senzou to sit down before falling onto the meal like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“You would make a poor king if people didn’t,” Senzou murmurs, smiling serenely when Ichigo’s eyes flick up to meet his. It’s not as intimidating when his cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk’s.

Actually, Ichigo in the Human world just seems less… overwhelming in general. It isn’t as if he’s any less powerful. This particular gigai doesn’t restrict him in any way. But there’s a relaxed quality in him here that Senzou’s observed in the past three weeks that’s always absent when he’s the rawest form of himself up in Seireitei.

“Soul Society needs to change,” Ichigo says at last, instead of denying anything. “If that means kicking it in the ass until it stops fucking up the lives it’s supposed to be looking after, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Yes, and Senzou has no doubt he’ll succeed. The majority of those in power have no desire to stop Ichigo. Those who do aren’t strong enough. And Ichigo wants it. He wants it with a conviction Senzou has never seen in anyone, almost obsessive in its unfaltering desire… like the abyssal hunger of a Hollow and the eternal grudge of a Quincy and the timeless pride of a Shinigami all rolled into one.

Ichigo wants it, and he’ll get what he wants.

The Soul King knows the universe owes him that much, and even if it didn’t, Senzou doubts it would make a single bit of difference to their God-Slayer.

He lifts his mug in a toast. “Then I look forward to your endeavours. You’ll need to watch out for Central 46′s spies though. I’m sure they won’t take this lying down.”

Ichigo cocks an eyebrow. “Is that an offer to keep your ear to the ground for me?”

Senzou attempts an innocent face, which works about as well as he expects when Ichigo snorts. “A mere Academy teacher like me probably can’t help much, but…” He thinks of the seals he’d planted throughout the entire Central 46 compound every time he’d had to report in, slowly but surely sneaking invisible ears into the heart of Soul Society’s government. “I might hear things now and then. I’ll pass it on if it happens to be interesting.”

Ichigo grins and tips his own mug at Senzou like they aren’t talking treason.

5. “So.”

Senzou almost rolls his eyes. The Shibas’ commitment to their theatrics clearly hasn’t changed.

“Kuukaku-chan,” He says instead as he strides into his office and smothers the urge to draw his blade on the woman sitting on his desk like she’s posing for Most Dramatic. He smiles instead, hiding the teeth of it behind his lips. “What a pleasure.”

Kuukaku grins back without any of the same courtesy. Of course. “None at all, I’m sure, so I’ll get straight to the point. What are you doing with Ichigo?”

Senzou does roll his eyes this time. “You’ll have to be more specific. As of yesterday, he’s teaching me how to drive a car.” His lip curls. “It’s a mode of transportation Humans have developed.”

“I know what a car is,” Kuukaku snaps, finally hopping down from the desk to prowl across the room. “Why is he teaching you? What do you want with him?”

Senzou pauses halfway through setting down a stack of essays to be marked. “…If I said vengeance on the Shiba Clan once I’ve convinced him to side with me, would that be about what you were expecting?”

Kuukaku glares and crosses her arms. “Ichigo would never.”

Senzou smirks. “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? You’ve wasted a trip.”

He brushes past her to flip through the paperwork on his desk. End-of-term reports are coming up, and that’s always a waste of his time, so the sooner he gets them done the better.

“I know you resent us for what happened to Miyako,” Kuukaku says from behind him, and Senzou wonders if he can just walk out. Probably, but there’s no way this woman won’t cause a scene. “But Ichigo wasn’t part of any of that.”

Senzou heaves a sigh and turns back around. “Kuukaku-chan, I thought we just established that we both know that using Ichigo against your family won’t work.”

“No,” Kuukaku nods. “But you could hurt him to get back at us.”

They eye each other for a long moment, not quite hostile but far from amicable.

“…My vengeance for Miyako was not lifting a finger when your clan was all but massacred,” Senzou finally says, ignoring the way Kuukaku’s expression pinches. “And so long as contact with you and yours is kept at an absolute minimum in the future, I don’t care anymore. Besides, there is no point in targeting Ichigo to get to you.” He sneers. “He’s a Shiba, but it would be an insult to consider him one of you.”

Kuukaku bristles but doesn’t explode in anger the way some of her even more hot-tempered relatives would. She stares at him instead, and when she doesn’t speak right away, Senzou goes back to organizing the contents of his desk.

“Say I believe that,” Kuukaku finally says, ignoring Senzou’s scoff. “Maybe you are hanging out with Ichigo with no ulterior motives. The gods know he makes that easy. But if that’s what you’re doing, there’s no way you won’t be seeing more of the rest of us eventually. He wasn’t raised the way a Shiba should’ve been, with none of our traditions and only a fraction of the family he should’ve had. That’s on us. But he’s still family, and so long as he doesn’t say no, we’re going to be a part of his life. You’re going to have to accept that if you plan on marrying in.”

The shelf closes with a resounding thud under his hand, and judging by the give, he’s probably cracked the back of it too. He barely notices as his gaze snaps back up to stare incredulously at his uninvited visitor. “I beg your pardon?”

Kuukaku smiles thinly, and this time she looks more amused than anything else. “Something to consider. But you’re more like Miyako than most people would think.” Her arms drop to her sides as she turns abruptly towards the window. “That’s all I had to say. You’re a smart man, Senzou. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fuck up.”

And before Senzou can demand an explanation or - more likely - set her on fire for cracking such an abysmal joke, she’s gone, disappearing through the window in a rush of Shunpo.

Senzou stares after her, then at the books he’d carried in earlier, then at the paperwork he’s putting off for the weekend because he has dinner with Ichigo tonight… just as he does almost every night nowadays.

He runs a hand over his face.

Shibas.

6. He says nothing. He’s self-aware enough to know (now, damn Kuukaku) that there’s something there, a spark, a connection, a pull Senzou has never felt towards anyone. He isn’t going to call it love or whatever Kuukaku thinks is happening because it isn’t. He finds Ichigo fascinating and endlessly entertaining, and anyone willing to face down Central 46 is worthy of some admiration in Senzou’s opinion. That Ichigo plans on turning the whole system upside-down and actually has the power to achieve it only raises Senzou’s esteem for him.

But he says nothing because Ichigo knows all this already. The day Senzou’s first instinct, when an assassin sent by Central 46 attempts to take Ichigo’s head, is to slit the hapless woman’s throat - even though he knows full well that she wouldn’t have come anywhere near to succeeding - is the moment Ichigo gets irrefutable proof that Koyonagi Senzou is willing to kill for him.

Ichigo doesn’t gloat of course, he isn’t the type. Senzou half-expects it anyway, breath caught in his lungs for a moment with something disgracefully close to fear twisting in his gut as he turns to check Ichigo’s reaction.

But Ichigo only wrinkles his nose and toes the fresh corpse at his feet, and then he glances at the blood splatter dotting Senzou’s shirt and offers to get him a new one.

He also reaches out to touch the hilt of Senzou’s Zanpakutou before nodding once, deliberately, solemnly, the weight of it as much a thanks as it is an acknowledgement.

And that was that. Senzou relaxes, doesn’t bat an eye when shadows surge up and swallow the body whole, and goes to change into another shirt. The incident passes, and it will be longer still before Ichigo’s enemies realize they probably should’ve tried harder to get rid of Senzou years ago. They’d thought themselves safe enough though: they would never earn Senzou’s allegiance, but at the same time, nobody - including Senzou - ever thought anybody else would earn it either.

But the point is, Ichigo knows. Senzou has no need to speak of it, and both of them are content with that. If something more comes of it down the road, Senzou doesn’t think he’d fight it. He lost this battle a good while ago, and he never even cared.

In the meantime though, he spies on Central 46 and enjoys what time he can spare in the Human world and continues reconstructing Seireitei’s education system brick by stubborn brick. There’s a kingdom to conquer and a god Senzou has pledged himself to, and for now, that is enough.

#headcanon meme: answered #bleach #koyoichi #koyonagi senzou #kurosaki ichigo #kyouraku shunsui #shiba kuukaku #post canon au #headcanon #hi brain #wtaf happened

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random-blfan · 4 years ago

Text

Alsar 66: New Quest

8 am.

I walked down the street in the morning sun, opened the guild door for the first time in three days, and Tord-san-san was sitting at the counter with a sleepy face.

"Good morning, Tord-san. Yesterday, I heard from Mr. Malik that there is a quest for us. Is it posted on the bulletin board?"

"Good morning! Yes, it's posted on the bulletin board ... The solo quest has 3 subjugations of A rank class monsters. The party quest is an escort mission that requires an A rank member in the party. I think it's probably that quest. "

As he spoke he shook his head lightly to get rid of drowsiness, then greeted me vigorously as usual then told me the contents of the quest.

It's difficult for me to subdue by myself without any means of attack, so it seems impossible for me to solo. Is it possible for multiple people to take a solo quest?

"This solo quest, for example, is it impossible for me and someone else to take it?"

"No, it's possible. Just be sure to take the quest as a party, and any number of people is fine in solo quests!"

"Is that so ... Thank you."

I wonder who to take along to do the quest.

First of all, I'm terribly inexperienced, so I'd like to gradually gain experience with quests.

"Is it a party quest?"

"Yes. It's supposed to be a party that includes an A rank, but the only parties here in Pedrel that have A ranks are Ren's [Luche] and Janna's [Casablanca]. Though Janna-san had taken this client’s quest before, they didn’t get along at all ,it seems like it went terribly, so it can be said that it’s perfect for Luce. " (It's suggesting that the quest can pretty much only be taken by them)

"Ehh ..."

Originally there are only about 50 people in A rank, but is it a dangerous quest to specifically ask for an A rank?

What kind of person is the client who didn't get along with Janna?

If we don't take this quest, no one will, so that person will be in trouble ...

Should I consult with those three?

"I see.... Thank you very much. Then I'll consult with Chris and the others and decide whether we want to take it or not. I'll see you later.

"Okay. I'll be waiting for you!

The last time I saw him, he was kind of gloomy, but I'm glad to see that today's Tord-san is more cheerful.After all, cheerfulness suits Tord-san, doesn't it?.

With that in mind, I headed to the 5th floor, where those three should be.

But really, why the hell are we on the top floor ......?

The stairs are pretty steep for me, but I'm sure the adventurers who stay here have strong legs and feet, so I'm sure it's not hard at all.

"I think Fer-san was the closest to the stairs… Is Fer-san here?"

"Yes, it 's open."

I knocked lightly on the door of 503 and heard Fer-san’s reply from inside, so I opened the door and went in.

It seems that preparations are complete today, and while turning his back, he wraps a dark brown waist pouch-shaped storage bag, Magic Bag, around his waist.

"Good morning, Ren-kun. Did you see the bulletin board?"

"Good morning, Fer-san. No, I haven't seen it, but I got the specifics from Tord-san”

"I see.... In the meantime, I'll go get the other two and we'll talk over breakfast downstairs.

Fer-san turned around and came up to pet my head, greeting me with a fresh morning smile.

People in this world really like to pet my head, don't they?

I feel like I've been patted a lot since I came here.

I guess I'm small, so I'm easy to pet.

"Okay"

When I replied, Fer-san grabbed my hand and we left the room to go to the one next door.

"I'm going to talk to Sig, so Ren-kun ask Chris, okay? ... Sig? Are you awake?"

"Understood"

I walked down the corridor a bit, listening to Fel calling Sig through the door, and knocked lightly on the door of room 501 where Chris was sleeping and called out to him.

"Chris-san? Are you awake?

"Yes, I'm awake. ...Good morning”

“Good morning. You're all set for today aren't you?”

As soon as I called out to him, the door opened with a bang and Chris-san peeked out.

I was a little relieved to see that he wasn't naked today, but was properly dressed.

"Fufu, too bad for you I’m wearing clothes ~?" (He’s kinda suggesting Ren wanted to see him naked)

"HA!? Not in a million years! Let 's go!" (The line here is something more like: there’s no way that’s the case, or smth along those lines, sounds pretty tsundere to be honest)

"Yes, yes ~"

Perhaps Chris read my thoughts, he leaned against the door and made fun of me with a grin.

I turned my back on Chris and started walking, but I'm sure he saw my cheeks turn red. The evidence of this was the giggling that followed me from behind.

"Hey Ren. Good morning"

"Good morning, Sig-san"

"Your face is bright red, did Chris tease you again?"

"Uh ..."

Sig-san's room was next to Chris-san's, so we got there quickly.

Apparently the redness on my cheeks hadn’t disappeared , he looked at me while telling me so, and I looked down to hide it.

"Okay, Okay… We'll talk about the quest downstairs while eating breakfast, right? Let 's go, Ren-kun."

"Okay…"

Fer-san gently pats my head and puts his hand on my shoulder leading me to the first floor.

It seems like Sig-san and Chris-san are following us from behind.

It seems that Chris and Sig are also following from behind.

When I got to the first floor, I was escorted to a table in the dining area like the last time, and they pulled out a chair for me to sit on.

"Ren-kun did you eat already?"

"Oh, yes, so I'll just get a drink today."

As before, the three asked for breakfast, and I started talking about the request quest while drinking orange juice.

By this time, the redness in my cheeks had receded, so I spoke normally.

"-So it's a solo quest, but I'd like someone to go with me ..."

“Though I saw it yesterday I thought that this solo quest is a tough one for Ren-chan to go…”

"Ah, is that so?"

Chris-san tells me when I ask the three of them.

I didn't check the bulletin board properly, but that's true ...

"Ah, indeed. First, it takes time to get to the site, and It's a pretty steep mountain, Oscar and the others can't climb it, so it's going to be tough for Ren, who's not very strong yet, and I think the other two will be difficult for Ren as well, so leave it to us this time.. "

"That's right. There were three quests, so let's take one each."

"Then we'll go separately, and while we're waiting, one by one we'll go on a date with Ren-chan"

If the three of them, who are senior adventurers, say so, then they must be right.

I can't help it, if I force myself to go and become a burden, so I'll just give up this time.

A date in the meantime...that might be nice too...

"Okay, then what about the party quest?"

"It’s an escort to La Serna. It's a 10-day round trip. It's an easy job to take because the departure date and time can be anytime between July 10th and 15th."

"La Serna?"

It is the first time I have heard of such a place.

A 10 days round trip means it is farther than Calhea. (I wasn’t sure how to romanize カリェーハ but I left it the way the previous translator did…)

"Yes, the Calhea meadow and the village of Bayunov are north of Pedrel, but La Serna is the exact opposite, it’s a city in the south. The roads are well maintained and usually do not pass through dangerous places, so a B-rank or C-rank adventurers are enough as escorts.There are also stagecoaches that connect towns without hiring guards in the first place, so many people go by that”

"And yet, they’re asking for an A-rank, or rather, us, Luce?

According to Fer-san, if guards aren’t really needed then why are we being assigned to do it?

"Are you really worried?"

"Well, if there was a problem, the guild wouldn’t accept the requested quest, so it must be fine ... what should we do? Should we take it?"

Is the client someone very worried about the journey?

When accepting the quest, the guild side also confirms the identity of the client, so there seems to be less trouble.

So I don't think I'm going to get involved in a crime, and it's a new place for me, who has rarely left Pedrel.

Maybe I want to go there ...

"I don't know if it's right for me to accept a quest like this, but I've never been to this place before, and I want to go there. Of course, I'll also do the quest properly”

"If that's the case, should we take it?"

"Let 's do it "

"Then let's finish eating and go to the reception."

So it seems that I don't have to worry about getting involved in crime or anything, and it's a new place for me as I've hardly ever left Pedrel.

I kind of want to try going…

I'm not sure if I can decide not to accept a request like this. But I'm still excited about the new quest.

As soon as we finished eating, they all went to sign up for a solo quest and I took care of the party quest”

The desired departure date is July 11.

The blueprints for the house would be finished by then, and the three of them were told that if the solo quests went well, they would be done by then, so we decided to do it that day.

I'm looking forward to dating each of the three until the 11th.

TN: Sorry about the late update, I’m starting exams this week but I’ll try to have the next chapter as soon as possible.

Take care∼

#Alsar translation #Alsar c66

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capsized-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Warbirds

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Summary: Ships and planes and weapons of war named after women and dubbed she, her. Powerful, deadly. Yet, the real thing, the real body is demeaned and made less than man. When you and Carol are up in the sky and screaming through the air in your metal birds, they will see just how fragile you are.

Following Carol and Reader throughout their training in the Air Force.

Word count: 4.6k+

Warnings: smut, mild violence

A/N: It feels so good to post again! I’m so sorry I haven’t written anything in a bit, my finals this semester have been c r a z y, I’ve written 20 pages worth of papers and I still have one more left before I’m fully on winter break :’) but almost there!

I’ve had this idea for a while and....I honestly had too much fun with this. I did a lot of research and watched some documentaries on what trainees experience through basic training and I find military uniforms more attractive than I should so I didn’t hold back on this one.

Please enjoy my girl Carol!!!

“Wake up! Wake up! Open that day room door! Lights on! PT uniform of the day, PT shorts and shirt!”

The piercing voice of Dorm Chief Williams shatters the air. Fluorescent white blinds you, pulse thundering as you’re jerked from sleep, kicking off your covers. Your muscles scream, vision blurred and swimming and you stagger to your feet.

Cadets around you are already making their beds and changing into their gear. You reach for your own combat uniform, pull on the deep navy tracksuit with the reflective insignia of the U.S. Air Force glowing over your left breast.

You turn and see your bunkmate starting to stir. You feel your heart hammer in your throat and push at her shoulder.

“Carol. Get up. Hey, let’s go, Warbird.”

Williams, a tall and intimidating woman personifying dread itself, marches over to your bunk.

“Danvers, am I keeping you from your beauty sleep?” Williams barks with the most intensity you’ve ever heard from her at 0600. “Should I call the canteen and have them bring you breakfast since you’re so busy slowing down my whole squadron?”

Carol jolts to attention. “No, ma’am!”

“Then get the hell away from me and into gear. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Williams scowls, watching Carol fly to her post to dress before she turns on her heel and makes her rounds through the rest of the dorm. Finished with your own tasks, you help with Carol’s bed, smooth out her uniform, secure her hair in a tight bun. She gives you a tired smile.

“Fall out!” Williams calls.

You’re out the door in a minute flat. The short, sharp blasts of Reveille drive motion around you as you fall in line with the male recruits.

The morning is brisk, stimulating, turning your breath into puffs of steam as sweeps of indigo crack open the sky like the pearly, iridescent insides of seashells. It’s pretty, the color reminding you of waves and ocean.

Maybe you should have joined the Navy instead, Carol would say, a quick quip about how you would make such a charming sailor girl bobbing away on a ship. She always likes to tease you for your love of beautiful, superficial things.

From the moment you shed your civilian status, the Academy taught you to appreciate the little things in life; the glow of morning that tints the clouds with amber and cream as you watch the world from your cockpit. Chirping birdsong, a sort of secret you like to think that exists only between birds and Airmen, the few humans capable of sharing the sky.

You loathe how much Carol affects you, since day zero, the very start of BMT. How you can hear her voice in your mind this goddamn early.

Your MTI picks up a cadence and you match your step to the young men and women beside you, your wingmen. You feel unity, harmony beating through your bloodstream as you jog in time with your sergeant’s calls, the crisp air making you feel well rested and energized despite getting your usual four hours of sleep.

Moments like these that give you purpose, the indescribable excitement of being a part of something bigger than yourself. Of belonging.

“Lookin’ good and feelin’ good! Who are we?” Your drill instructor booms.

“USAF! Aim high! Fly, fight, win!” The squadron sounds off in unison.

You’re three weeks into BMT. Twenty-one days of primal shock, verbal abuse, blood, sweat, tears. Four weeks, twenty-eight more days until you graduate from the ranks of cadet, four weeks until your MTI awards you your dog tags and the title of Airman. The start of your career as a fighter pilot.

But until then, you’ll have to survive the next twenty-eight days.

You’ve learned more about yourself in these three weeks than you have in your entire life, your mind and body hardened with discipline. Broken down psychologically and physically and molded into the young woman your squadron needs you to be.

You and Carol are reminded of your womanhood every day. You and the others have to push yourselves harder, faster just to prove you can keep up. O’Neill, a petite little firecracker of a girl and fresh out of school, had gotten her period last week. You’d watched her wretch up bile after morning drill, the exertion and stress and cramps too much for her body to handle. The MTI had screamed at her, blue in the face, ordered her to drop on her stomach right there and crank fifteen pushups.

You cannot separate your femininity from your body, even in a military unit that declares that all are treated equal as soldiers. You are not an equal by default.

It’s belittling. Exhausting.

But you’ve shown that you can hold your own against the boys. You’ve learned how to shoot clean and fight with your bare hands, how to assemble, disassemble, and repair your M-16. You could do it in your sleep, the sharp click-click of a reloading magazine heard in your dreams.

This week, along with your usual physical conditioning, you have CBRNE training, MOPP training. You’ll be exposed to CS gas and simulations of biological warfare, your leadership skills put to the test.

You can do this. With Carol by your side, you feel like you can do anything. Little fledglings earning your wings, pushed from the nest, learning to fly when the ground is rushing up to meet you. Make or break.

Twenty-eight more days.

The gas is meant to simulate suffocation, they tell you.

“Masks off! Break the seal! Break, break, break!”

You’re already dizzy, head spinning from the chamber exercises when you stick your fingers in between the small space of your mask and pull hard.

The seal breaks with a sharp hiss.

Fire floods your eyes, your sinuses, down your throat, constricting tight like smoke and flames and hellfire. You taste fireworks, poison. Your eyes instinctively shut, blurry with tears and you cough hard, sputter, hear the echoes of other cadets hacking and gasping.

The simulation is meant to put trust in your equipment, to make you vividly remember that your mask and gear will save your life. And as you stand there with your lungs struggling to expand and the MTIs rounding on each of you in the hazy, cloying smoke, you believe it.

“Airman Recruit Danvers, Division 164!” You hear Carol pant somewhere in the fumes, along the walls of the chamber where you’re all lined up. You keep your mask raised above your head as instructed, waiting, suffocating in silence until it is your turn to state your name and division number. The MTIs move down the line with their masks still fixed. Haunting, weaving through the gas and toxins like plague doctors. The image of death. Vultures tearing fledglings apart with pointed beaks and white bone as you watch cadets choke on their own breath.

The primal impulse of fear trickles from your hypothalamus as the minutes tick on, until your lips and tongue buzz like fire ants, until you can no longer feel the tips of your fingers. You’re sweat-slicked and gasping when an MTI turns to you, screams for your identification.

You sound off. Your entire body is shaking, fevered. You are the last in your row.

You burst through the doors and out into the afternoon air with a stream of cadets behind you, taking flight as you thunder on the asphalt to the open courtyard.

You all cough, spit, clear out your lungs with curses and muted laughter as your squadron stands together beneath cotton clouds and blue sky.

Carol finds you in the mix, the few precious seconds where you’re not forced to fall in line. Seconds to catch your breath. Her skin is flushed and wisps of hair fall to frame her face, her bun messy. She grins and the two of you bump fists, playful.

Your cheeks redden, lungs tight with something other than CS gas. It’s strange seeing Carol disheveled when you’ve been so hardwired with self-control, down to how you’re expected to wear your hair, present yourself.

You like seeing her like this.

“Do we have confidence in that gear?” MTI Galloway emerges from the chambers and asks of you all.

“Yes, Chief!” You roar.

Carol calls you Phoenix after that, running so fast out the chamber and looking like a fire had been lit up your ass.

The nickname is fitting for a duo like you. Raptors, birds of prey, fierce and skilled and yet simultaneously embracing and shielding your femininity with unfurled wings.

Have women not been compared to birds in art and literature throughout history as a means to show fragility? Fleeting beauty?

Why not strength? Why ever not for sleeker attributes, or as hunters?

It’s curious. Ships and planes and weapons of war named after women and dubbed she, her. Powerful, deadly. Yet, the real thing, the real body is demeaned and made less than man.

When you and Carol are up in the sky and screaming through the air in your metal birds, they will see just how fragile you are.

You hit the ground so hard that the air rushes out your lungs in a loud wheeze. You can’t breathe. Your face burns, ears ringing. You can hear the screams of your MTI. You’d rather die of embarrassment right here.

The rope dangles in front of you, fifteen feet straight up, still swaying from where you’d fallen, taunting. Physical conditioning for your Basic Expeditionary Airman Skills Training examination next week, fittingly dubbed the BEAST. Rope climbing and complicated field obstacle courses after you’ve crawled through miles of sand and dirt, navigated through tactical drills with your full pack of gear.

Your arms tremble, your entire upper body drained of all strength, skin biting from the sand. Weak, exhausted. Your palms raw from the rope. Tears of frustration sting at your eyes as your MTI screams out your surname in another bloodcurdling roar to get your ass up out of that dirt.

Yet, the low scoff of a nearby cadet is what piques your attention.

Dalquist. A boy a few years older than yourself with an ugly, crooked grin and sandy hair. A show-off, a boy who thinks himself a man. He smirks again with crossed arms, tuts his tongue as his eyes flicker over you.

“They’ll never let you fly.” He snickers.

Then, Carol is there beside you. She grips your waist strongly, shifting your weight and the two of you slowly rise together amidst the swirling dust. You draw in a shuddering breath.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe they’re all right. Maybe you don’t belong here.

You feel Carol’s muscles tense and manage to squeeze her arm in a silent warning. The entire squadron watches the three of you. The last thing you need is falling to Dalquist’s level and getting punished for it.

So she hits him with a reply quite enough only for the three of you to hear.

“You better hope not.” She rasps.

Your time in the classroom is a welcome break from the stresses of field training. You meet Dr. Wendy Lawson, an incredibly gifted and terrifying brilliant quantum physics scientist when she’s brought in to give you post-deployment training. She teaches you flight mechanics, squadron resources and financial management. You learn about her research on quantum energy.

Lawson is especially kind to you and Carol upon hearing your aspirations to take to the skies as fighter flyers. Her standards are higher for you and she encourages you to speak out when you’ve been too timid to respond to the whole class, the twinkle in her eye giving you courage, a voice for the first time in your life.

Together, Lawson and Carol work to coax you out of your shell.

The days trudge on. You throw Dalquist’s remark behind every new simulation you’re given, every mile, every pushup of your physical conditioning.

And it shows.

Your endurance and stamina have nearly doubled, bringing out new muscles in your back, your arms. You’re stronger than you’ve ever been, strong enough to grapple an unsuspecting Dalquist to the ground during field training. He stares up at you in humiliation and horror and you push him harder into the dirt, until your MTI snorts and tells you to let him up.

The mile and a half lap you take known as the Airman’s Run the week of your graduation is a breeze. Your body is familiar with the motion and exertion, the rest of the cadets who’ve made it through BMT with you dressed in new uniforms of pressed blue shirts and the trademark navy garrison cap.

Family and friends watch as your squadron marches in a parade of waving flag and timed step. Your heart swells with pride, with unparalleled accomplishment.

You’re finally presented with the Airman’s Coin and your dog tags. You’ve completed Basic Training. You are no longer a cadet, a trainee, but an oath-sworn member of the Air Force. Next weekend, you’ll be moved into dorms and officially begin your pilot training.

And then you’re free. For the first time in seven weeks, you are dismissed after the ceremony and to spend the rest of the weekend however you please.

Free time. Privacy. Privileges you took for granted as a civilian. You feel giddy, excited.

“We did it, birdie.” Carol’s voice sounds from behind you. You turn, her smile radiant as ever and mirroring yours.

She looks like she was born to wear the uniform, her shirt crisp and cap perfectly straightened atop her pinned back hair. Your pulse stutters, you find it difficult to swallow.

“We did it.” You laugh, a little too breathless with the way she’s looking down at you with that mischievous glint in her eyes. Her gaze catches your lips, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

God, so self-assured. So confident.

Honestly, you could use a little of that confidence.

“What do you say we get out of here? Go see what this city has to offer aside from base?” She says.

Your knees nearly buckle. You have a feeling that you know what will happen off base, at least, what you hope will happen.

Technically, you wouldn’t be breaking protocol.

And with the two of you buzzing with adrenaline and boosted egos, how can you even think of saying no? You deserve to celebrate.

You leave Lackland Base and head to downtown San Antonio for the rest of the weekend, for two whole days all to yourselves.

You visit the River Walk and explore as much of the fifteen-mile long city park as you can, strolling along the banks and gorging yourselves on street food and local cuisine. No curfew, no officers screaming orders, just the two of you leisurely enjoying a Friday night beneath a soft sunset and twinkling fairy lights.

You have dinner and drinks at a quaint little steakhouse with a live band and music, the musicians donning cowboy hats, boots, chaps and all. It’s corny. It’s absolutely perfect.

The lime juice is sharp and bitter on your tongue as you throw back your third shot of tequila, lap up the salt you’ve sprinkled over your knuckles. Carol isn’t far behind you. Pretty soon, the tavern lanterns swim pleasantly before you and you sway gently to the music in your seat, blissed out, flushed, content.

Carol’s fingers fondly brush your cheek and she laughs, her eyes crinkling and you think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You grin back, a bit too eager and lopsided, lean across the wooden table to grasp her hand.

You drag her to the attached karaoke bar next door and slide a few quarters into the jukebox before she can stop you. The two of you belt out your renditions of Nirvana, Heart, Elastica. Your blood is warm and Carol dances beside you with wired microphone in hand, laughing so hard you’re both crying, pulse pounding behind your temples until finally the jukebox clicks with the last of your change and the next requested song is queued up.

The hotel you check into is just down the street and you practically fall through the doorway trying to get each other out of your uniforms. It’s jumbled and chaotic as you slip out of your combat gear, tripping over boots and pants as you finally touch overheated skin, giggling like children.

Disorderly when your lips meet, her hands coming to cradle your face, holding you still with a low groan, a grip that surprises you. It heightens the flush of alcohol sitting in the pool of your lower belly as you kiss her back, wind your arms around her.

You gasp when she tightens a hand in your hair and pulls, mouth ravaging the skin of your neck with tongue and teeth. She walks you blindly until you’re flush against the wall, turns you around with her frame pressing hard against your back.

Her fingers are sure and true when they cup, caress your heated flesh, not an ounce of hesitation in her. You keen, circle your hips hard into her as she works at unraveling you, forearm circling your neck, leaning to put her lips at your ear, breath hot.

“So pretty. My birdie is so pretty.”

It’s been so long since you’ve last been intimate. The military discipline over your physique has made you forget what it’s like to treat your body with love, to feel pleasure, to be touched by a young woman you’d do anything for.

“Let’s see you fly high, hmm?” She breathes. “You want it faster? I wanna see my little birdie soar. Can you do that for me?”

It’s so easy to let go.

Your flesh clenches around her and you sigh, your entire being quivering. Carol braces you, holds you close as you tremble with aftershocks, burning and burning.

Your world is hazy, melting when Carol leads you to the bed and hoists you on top of her, thighs straddling her lap. The liquid courage returns, coy when you grasp the cool metal of the dogtags between her breasts and yank her forward for another breathless kiss.

Her arms are strong, hard with muscle and hands splayed against the naked skin of your back as she coaxes you to earth shattering heights again and again. Until the grey light of day.

Sunday morning, you sleep in until ten o’clock, roused by streaming sunlight and birdsong. Peaceful quiet, a treat in itself with Carol’s arms lazily draped around you.

Your stomach drops when the sergeant cracks open the C-17 door and the atmosphere shrieks into the aircraft. Your gear is heavy, you’re sweating hard, and your Airborne Division is about to jump. You find it hard to breathe and try not to lock your knees, try not to faint. Gut wrenching, everything inside you screaming that this is suicide. Leaping from a roaring aircraft with nothing but a kevlar sac to break your fall.

You see the Airman in front of you subtly cross himself, pretending to scratch his chin.

You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Fingers grip your waist. Carol stands beside you.

It’s too loud for conversation, the air and engine pressing down on your eardrums with tight pressure, but she gives you a nod, another squeeze of your hip. Her lips mouth a single word.

Fly.

Then, the men in front of you are rushing towards the yawning mouth of the plane and you and Carol are running together, side by side, fearless. And then you jump, spreading your arms, dive like hawks.

The sky is a dome of robin’s egg blue, sun shining and tipping the edge of your gloved fingers with liquid gold. You fall fast, hard. Wind rips through and around you, weightless as gravity pulls you to earth.

Pulse ramming, pure adrenaline, ten agonizing seconds of freefall. You pull the pin and your parachute deploys, rocking you backwards as the fabric unfurls and catches the air. You grip your harness tight, float through the heavens and watch as dozens of parachutes dot the horizon around you.

You whoop, shoot Carol a “hang loose”, smiling wide, goofy and vibrating with excitement.

Her laughter carries across the sky.

You’re there beside her when the two of you are promoted to officer rank. First in your class, looking out over a sea of grim, bored looking faces that stare back at you with quiet hostility.

Your officer uniforms are sharp, handsome. Crisp navy suits decorated with shining medals and visible proof that you have fought tooth and nail to be on the stage where you stand now. You wouldn’t want anyone else here with you but Carol. Your wingman. Your everything.

Your names are called and you rise together in unison as Senior Airman Dalquist pins your new patches to your uniforms.

Weeks later, you learn that Dr. Lawson’s plane has gone down. It punches a hole straight through your chest, wrenches up your insides when the news is broken to you.

After BMT, you’d lost contact with her. You wish you could have told Lawson that you’ve done it, that you and Carol are dominating the skies.

And now she’s missing.

You’re in the hangar and up in the air before anyone can stop you.

The crash site is still smoldering when you touch down at a hidden lake surrounded by a halo of pine and sand. You and Carol rip off your helmets, jump out of the cockpit as soon as your wheels are on solid ground, racing towards the wreckage of an eerily familiar F-16 Fighting Falcon.

Lawson lies slumped forward, still strapped into her seat. The glass of the cockpit has exploded all around her, leaving her open and exposed. It looks grim.

“Doc?” You say. Your voice shakes a bit, but you quickly will all fear out of your mind, take a deep breath and allow your body, your muscle memory to take over. Let your training come back to you.

You push back at her helmet visor, sit her upright. Press three fingers against the artery of her neck.

Cold. No pulse.

Then, you see the smoking hole in her chest, where plasma energy has burned through her jacket and blood drips bold and blue onto her lap.

You exhale hard, ignore the strangeness of the latter to check Lawson’s dashboard for any working electrical machinery. No luck. All fried, all scrambled from the crash.

“Carol, we need pararescue stat. Get them here.” You order.

Carol nods wordlessly, composed, turns on her heel to radio them from your own plane.

You brace yourself against the frame of the cockpit, hang your head in shock. You can’t bear to look at Lawson like this. You don’t want to remember her like this.

In those tense moments of silence, a soft, strange humming reaches your ears, seeming to emulate from the F-16 itself. You take a step back to fully survey the wreckage.

The crash has exposed most of the plane’s wiring and paneling, including the engine. Though, this is no engine like you’ve ever seen.

Monstrous, pulsing with blue light and an aura that draws you closer, pulling at your curiosity. It distracts you long enough for you to almost miss the approaching silhouette of a man from behind the suffocating smoke.

He’s dressed in a bizarre emerald jumpsuit with a blazing yellow star in the center of his chest. His step is charismatic, unfaltering.

And what scares you most is the unholstered gun in his hand.

Carol calls your name in a frantic shout.

You put two and two together. Lawson’s killer.

“We have no interest in hurting you.” He tells you, finally pausing at the crest of the crash site. His voice is surprisingly charming and it sends a chill straight down your spine.

We?

You’re afraid. Your old commanding officer, one of the strongest women you’ve ever known, lies shot and killed with blood the color of toxic waste. Her engine looks foreign, otherworldly. Your mind begins to race.

“The energy core. Where is it?” The man asks and brandishes his gun. You force your breathing to steady, to find a sense of calm. You have to focus. Questioning will make him irritable, panicking will get you killed.

Intuition is enough to tell you that the core is not to leave in this man’s hands by any means.

You catch sight of the glinting handle of a pistol resting between Lawson’s knees. You flicker your gaze away and to the proximity of the engine. Then, you look to Carol.

Her eyes shine with tears in the shimmering heat. Her body is tense, drawn tight like a bow, fight-or-flight. You fear she’ll run to you, that she’ll get herself killed trying to protect you. If the roles were switched, you know you would do just that.

So you act before she has the chance to. In one fluid motion, you draw Lawson’s gun and fire a single shot at the exposed engine.

It explodes like heat and magma. Azure energy engulfs you in a millisecond. Like lightning striking your bones, fire that scorches through your entire being and condemning a blazing death of unbearable, burning power, collapsing like a supernova reborn.

Your nerve-endings detonate, a fusion of flesh and skin and pyro that incinerates you to your very core, destroys you from the inside.

You scream, high and horrible. You’ve never felt such pain.

Your eyes ignite in crimson, red hot, flaring with light. Everything inside you rushing upwards and expanding until your mortal frame can no longer contain this threshold and you burst, combust with starfire.

The blast hits Carol next, lifting her up and dissipating, coiling like mist through her skin in synergy. She glows like an iridescent comet, blue light rolling off of her like water and waves, her own eyes flaring turquoise, then white.

When the two of you hit the ground, trees and sand bend and blow around you, knocking the man unconscious as the inertia from your combined energy throws him backwards.

You cry out as you try and hold yourself, crumpled. You are charred, your body humming with poison, radiation and flame, eager to crackle out of you at your slightest impulse, eyes still flaring powerfully.

“I-It hurts..” you gasp weakly.

A true phoenix. Broken and born from ashes.

Carol is there cradling you as tears leak down your face. Wisps of magenta and teal ripple around her with every movement, glittering with cosmic potential, like she contains her very own galaxy. Achingly beautiful.

“I know, birdie.” Carol murmurs as you choke, sputter from the pain. “Fight it. Give it to me.” She says and reaches for your hands.

Carol yelps softly when you push a bit of your glowing gold into her, as she trades starpower for fire and you watch the cage of her chest bloom like a lantern, veins and eyes rimming with ember. She does the same, giving you the moon and stars and the gleaming, lavender milky way.

You let go and Carol gasps as she absorbs a new piece of you. Your mind clears, the pain nothing more than a dull ache.

Exhaustion and shot nerves finally set in as the two of you lie there, quiet enough to hear the wind whistling through pine. You throw your arms around her, your kiss tasting like tears and sand and flushed sunlight.

Carol braces you against her, hoists your arm around her shoulders and lifts you upright. Side by side until the very end.

Then, you take to the skies, blazing like comet streaks and crimson hawks.

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x you #carol danvers fanfiction #captain marvel fanfictio #carol danvers fanfic #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel drabble #captain marvel fic #carol danvers #captain marvel #marvel fanfic #reader insert

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nerdierholler · 5 years ago

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I was tagged by @ljandersen for the OC interview. Last time I did Ithlen, so this time I’m doing Marie. This is post Reaper War, having retired some place nice and tropical with Garrus.

Tagging @bronzeagelove, @trash-effect, and @heraldofwho but only if want, no pressure.

OC Interview

name ➔ Jane Marie Shepard

are you single ➔ *smiles* No.

are you happy ➔ *thinks for a moment* Yes, I am.

are you angry ➔ I’m not sure anyone ever stops being angry. I think deep down there’s always something we’re angry about. It took a long time to learn that. But I’m much less angry than I used to be. That’s also been a long process.

are your parents still married ➔ *looks at the interviewer, confused* No... Interviewer: Sorry, standard question list. Marie: I see. I would like to think they still would be if they were alive.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ I was one of the first children born on Mindoir.

hair color ➔ Black with an increasing number of grays.

eye color ➔ Blue.

birthday ➔ April 11, 2154.

mood ➔ Um, fine? Is fine a mood? I’m feeling very neutral at the moment. Sure, I’m a bit tired, who isn’t most days though, and I’ve got a mental laundry list of things to do later, but I don’t think that’s anything special.

gender ➔ Female.

summer or winter ➔ Summer. Winter is fine for a vacation, but I did move somewhere with a tropical climate for a reason.

morning or afternoon ➔ Morning. Get up, get going, get on with the day. I’m getting better about learning to sleep in, Garrus has taught me that. Then again, this place does have some pretty amazing sunrises if you’re awake to see them.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ Very much.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ It’s a nice idea for books or vids, but no. Infatuation that might turn into something more, sure, I’ll give you that, but actual love at first sight? I don’t think so.

who ended your last relationship ➔ There were a lot of factors, most of them outside of my control. Death, security clearances, Cerberus, time, distance, miscommunication. That’s the ancient past though, we’re good friends now.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ I have. I didn’t mean to, not when I died and not when I came back. But like I said, death, security clearances, Cerberus, time, distance, and miscommunication can make a relationship tricky.

are you afraid of commitments ➔ There was a time in my life where I think I was, although I wouldn’t have admitted it. But now, not in the least.

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ *gets a huge grin* I have. I would say it’s rare for there to be week where I don’t hug anyone, even if you exclude Garrus. Which isn’t to say that I’m a “hugger”, I value my personal space a great deal so please don’t just come up to me and hug me on the Citadel or something. I might punch you, reflexively of course. It’s not a great idea for strangers to sneak up on a former soldier and attempt to restrain them. However, there are always hugs for my friends. I want the people who mean the most to me to know that I care about them.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Only one that I interacted with. I’m sure there have been many that I didn’t know about or never made it through security protocols.

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ I’m not entirely sure what this means. But I’ve let myself down, disappointed myself, many times and in significant ways. I don’t know if that’s the same as a broken heart, but those realizations sure hurt like hell.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ Love, every time.

lemonade or iced tea ➔ Lemonade, it reminds me of summers grown up. I’m strictly a hot tea drinker these days.

cats or dogs ➔ I love both, but I suppose I’ll say cats just because I actually have one. Her name is Junior and, just like us, she’s retired. Former top ranking security and reconnaissance for the colony. *Shepard laughs* Alright, alright, she used to be the mouser at the spaceport.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ You don’t save the galaxy three times without a little help. All of those people are special to me, some have stayed a little closer, but I would be there in a moments notice for any of them. *shrugs* I don’t know if that answers the question.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Romantic night in, although I’ve unintentionally had my share of wild nights out. Some people in C-Sec still haven’t forgiven me for the restaurant incident....

day or night ➔ Day. Nights and I can have a complicated relationship.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ Does stealing the Normandy that one time count? Seriously though, yeah, after Mindoir I wasn’t very happy with where I was and tried not to be there as much as possible.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ If someone says they haven’t they are LIARS! The key is to be graceful about it, which I’m not, or laugh about it after if nothing’s broken, which I do.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Yes, a few times, but I’d rather not talk about them. They’re still painful to think back on.

wanted to disappear ➔ All the time. There are a lot of people who want ‘a quick moment’ of my time to discuss something or try to get me to solve some problem for them. It gets old.

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ Tough one, but I’m going to have to say eyes, and not just because of Garrus. Spend enough time around turians and you’ll figure out what a smile looks like for them.

shorter or taller ➔ I’m going to have to go with taller. I’m very spoiled there.

intelligence or attraction ➔ Intelligence. Someone can become more attractive the more you get to know them, but rarely do they get smarter, unless you underestimated them in the first place.

hook-up or relationship ➔ Relationship. In case you haven’t notice a trend yet, I’m pretty serious when it comes to things like that. I like to make it count.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ Let me guess, another one of those standard questions? *rolls her eyes* We got alone fine. I get along fine with the people I consider family now too.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ I would say ‘had’ rather than ‘have’. I’ve been through terrible things that no person should have to go through. I was lucky and came out on the other side of them. So yes, things were ‘messed up’, but that’s not where I am anymore.

have you ever ran away from home ➔ Just once. Even then it depends on how you define home. I ran away from the place I was living and the people who’s care I was placed under. They didn’t catch me and I didn’t look back.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No, but if I hadn’t run away, I might have been. Although, there is that one sushi place on the Citadel that’s asked me not to come back... Sorry, had to lighten the mood, things were getting too serious.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ I have hated people who are now my friends but there was nothing secret about my feelings at the time. I would say I’m shocked that there are people who would do that, but I’m not.

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ Yes, like I said, I talk with some more than others, but they’re all close.

who is your best friend ➔ Garrus is the obvious answer here, but after that, probably Liara.

who knows everything about you ➔ Liara, I don’t even think there’s competition. *laughs* She probably knows things about me that even I don’t know.

#tag meme #Mass Effect #jane marie shepard #femshep #life at nerdy holler

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yourjughead · 7 years ago

Text

Legacy

Synopsis: Jughead has a run in with a very powerful member of the Serpents his first week of school, you.

Pairings: Jugheadxreader

Warnings: Swearing, lots of dialogue

A/N: I know I've already posted today but I quite like this idea of mine, let me know what you think kittens!

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

Jughead POV

“Well are you going to sit with us?” Sweet Peas tone was testing. I'm a loner, I'm not meant to make friends here, isolation is protection right?

“Yeah Id rather not sit you people”

“What's that supposed to mean Jones?” Fangs Fogarty half barked at me.

“Problem?” A new voice from the shadows behind Sweet Pea echoed, the whole cafeteria, Ghoulies and all, silenced. This somehow does not feel like it's going to end well...for me. Sweet Peas smirk grew before he raised an eyebrow.

“Umm no oh great omniscient being?” Sweet Pea instantly jumped to his feet in defense to my snarky comments.

“Easy SP, don't damage the precious cargo” the laugh, I assumed from a girl, still stayed shielded in the dimly lit hellhole. A silhouette then emerge on top of a lunch bench, the light shining behind it like in a super hero film.

“Oh thanks for sparing me your Highness” I fake bowed but on returning to my original stance, the towering being that is Sweet Pea almost shoulder to shoulder with me….well his shoulders are far past mine but you get the idea.

“Watch it Jones” Sweet Peas forearm jostled me back slightly. The silhouette lightly chuckling behind him.

“Huh, cute” then emerged the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life, Y/C/H flowing with green streaks, okay seriously who is the Southside's hairdresser. She adorned the infamous Serpent jacket and a slight scar on her cheek, she could easily be a Bond villain...or a Bond girl.

“I hate to interrupt your and Sweet Peas flirting Jones but you either sit or go make some other

friends” she gestured to the still silent Ghoulies, eyes fixed on the Serpent's green haired queen. Why though?

“And you are?” I tried to sound as blasé as possible even though I was kind of very terrified.

“I said watch it Jones! Show some respect!” Sweet Pea caught my shirt this time. He could possibly be worse than Reggie...She rolled her eyes and sighed, I assume at Sweet Peas defense of her.

“Maybe if I knew who I was respecting?” Pushing his buttons is too easy

“YN YLN” her voice came, clear as a bell before Sweet Pea could threaten me again. Nothing but confidence from the beauty. Sweet Pea raising an eyebrow. Ugh, hate him already.

“And….” Okay I was really chancing my luck, I heard Sweet Pea practically growl and Toni, sitting down behind him, shook her head at me warningly. I could feel the whole cafeteria glance between each other

“Oh my oh my, aren't we brazen our first week? Legacy or not, you need to watch your mouth” she stepped closer towards me, she really was beautiful….and totally intimidating.

“Especially around me” she practically bit.

“What's a legacy” the whole cafeteria started laughing then, she left smirking.

“It's what you are, Bonehead is it?” The cafeteria snickered at her mockery of me, time to play their game.

“Names Jughead, it's the name you'll be screaming out loud in bed later” this time Sweet Pea pushed me back forcefully into the wall before catching me tightly by the collar of my shirt and producing a switch blade, the cafeteria returning to silence.

“I'm not going to warn you again Jones!” Okay two things 1) Where are all the teachers, if you sharpen your pencil too much in Riverdale High it's confiscated and you get detention and 2) I clearly do not understand the rules of their game. My eyes met YNs as she smirked before running her tongue over her teeth before she stepped much closer to me.

The bell rang, saving my ass but then again this isn't Riverdale High so no one moved. We're not in Kansas anymore.

“so clever Bonehead” she caught my face in one hand, I didn't move for fear of being lacerated by Sweet Pea.

“The clever ones are always so fun to break” she then let go of my face with a jerk and strutted off, Sweet Pea giving me a warning look before relieving the pressure he held over me.

“You better watch yourself Jones, Legacy or not, you're still fresh meat and the Ghoulies are starving”

Toni caught my arm and pulled me through the ever crowded halls and into the newspaper room.

“ARE YOU INSANE! YOU'RE NOT EVEN HERE A WEEK AND YOU GO FOR YN!”

“EMM I THINK IF YOU RECALL SHE WENT FOR ME!”

“ONLY AFTER YOU DISSED US SO THEREFORE YOU WENT FOR HER FIRST!” I rubbed my hand down my face slowly, oh God I've made a right mess.

“Okay okay maybe I can fix it” she looked at me like I had three heads. I feel like I know nothing about this new world.

“What's a legacy?”

“You are”

“Oh really I would have never gathered that from all of you saying it” she punched me into the arm for my sarcasm.

“Your dad was in the Serpent's, your mom wasn't but irregardless of that, you were still born from some portion of Serpent blood, you were always going to be Serpent, never had to fight for it but-”

“Yeah but your mom is a Serpent and no one is calling you a Legacy” I interrupted

“Well if you had let me finish”

“Sorry”

“Anywaaaay, you're only a Legacy if your serpent parent is of a high enough rank, the rest of us have to prove ourselves so currently the only Serpent Legacies in this school are you and-”

“What about yn, is she a legacy?” She laughed at my question, thankfully not hitting me for interrupting her again.

“YN YLN’ great great great grandfather started the Serpents” she smiled at the shock etched on my face.

“Yup, YN YLN is Serpent Royalty, 100% pure blood and she's the next leader and thankfully she's deserving of it” I nodded slowly, now even more terrified of yn. This is some mafia shit.

“She's a fair leader and knows all the ins and outs of the Serpents, she's proved herself to be invaluable already and strong in every aspect of the word and so we are fiercely loyal. I wouldn't cross her Jughead, she might find your snarkiness cute for now but don't get on her nerves, it'll be hell for all of us” her eyes were honest and I knew while she respected YN, she also feared her, I think they all did.

“Oh and if you haven't already guessed, Sweet Pea is her second. Dude follows her around like a puppy so if you're planning to bash our beloved leader, don't do it around him” she laughed but it didn't ease my nerves.

“Actually, just don't.” Her tone was harsher then.

“Ghoulies seem to be afraid of her?”

“Yeah of course they are are! The amount of them who have attempted to take her down as a way of earning the stripes is ridiculous, she's never been beaten though. Did you miss the part where I said she's Serpent Royalty?” She sighed, I was clearly an exhausting student.

“Most adults are afraid of her so please Jughead, just stay under her radar”

“I think we're gone past flying under the radar Toni” I just thought she was a wanna be, my ego has taken a right bashing but yn, yn was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

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

Please please give me feedback my lovelies, please!

Much love Xx

#jugheadxreader imagine #jugheadxreader #jughead fic #jughead #jughead jones #jughead x reader #riverdale jughead #jughead imagine #jughead jones fic #jughead jones iii #jughead jones fanfiction #jughead jones x reader #sweat pea #riverdale fic #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagines #riverdale #riverdalexreader #southside

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jainarepellista · 7 years ago

Text

Tower of God S2ch271 Rough Translations

Hey! Sorry for missing a chapter last week. I was out of the country and forgot to set up my queue -_-

This week’s as well as next week’s would be queued posts too so if there are any changes between the preview and the official, they won’t be reflected in them. Thanks!

...Welcome. Travelling warriors of the Tower. // I am an/the administrator of the Hidden Floor, "Big Breeder" "Chung" [T/N: Big Breeder is the title; Chung is the name]

I have come to give you the Grand Quest

for successfully getting rid of all the evil energy in this place.

So shall we proceed with the Grand Quest // after you have a short break?

Go sing a song to help relax the minds and bodies

of our warriors over here, jesters!

(Sing! Sing! Sing!)

Urgh-!!

They have protected~ this beautiful village~ // by getting rid of that giant octopus~

(Ah~)

They are the true warriors of this place~

(Ah~)

............

Oh great~ // warrioors~

(Aaah~ ♪)

I feel more tired..

??F Hell Train - Hidden Floor - 08

Hey, // do we really have to go one after another while escaping?

Won't it take us about three (and a half) hours if we keep this up?! // We could already be there if we just use BongBong.

............. // We can't do that.

Ever since I came here, I have experienced death with them several times. // Even if it's a bit slow, I want to escape with all of them.

I don't want to become someone who just throws their friends away! [T/N: regular YHS is so pure ;;;]

(Huhu-!!)

...He was nicer when he was younger..

(So what happened to him..)

(How is it)

(Do you see any soldiers)

.....I don't know..

Hm? // What's that all of a sudden?!

This tremor..!!

Could it be they've already..?!

Th..ey have.. alrea..dy..!!

Big.. Bree..der..!!

It's Big Breeder..!!

What?! Already!?

That was too fast!!

Yu Han Sung-ssi, Big Breeder came out?!

..What do we do now?

...........

We..'ll go.. ahe..ad first..

What?!

As.. that g..irl said, ..if it..'s jus..t us // we c..ould get.. out of.. h..ere much.. faster.

W..e co..uld first.. esca..pe and ..stop th..em fro..m cle..aring ..the G..rand Quest. // Eve..ryon..e c..an liv..e if ..we ta..ke ca..re of.. Big.. Bree..der.

Go. I also know the way out. // We believe in you.

Bon-ssi..

But if we escape and fail to stop Big Breeder..!!

I know. We'll be trapped here until the next time.

But isn't it better to chose the option that doesn't have a high chance of everyone dying?

We have been abandoned by Big Breeder anyway. // The only one we believe in in this world is you.

That's right, Yu Han Sung-ssi!! // We believe in you!!

Please stop Big Breeder together with Batis-nim!!

Everyone..

............

I understand. We will go first.

I thought about it.. if it's just us, we could use a different route.

A different route?!

It's too dangerous for normal people.. We have to hurry. // Or else, we'll all die if the people outside clear the Grand Quest.

Then let's go!!

We'll also keep on moving forward!! // Let's believe in Batis-nim and the others!!

Yeah!! Let's go!!

We've died a number of times already anyway!!

There's nothing to fear!!

glint-

1 hour after- // Bard's Village

Hmm.. Then- // how about we get started?

This is your-

"Grand Quest".

If you clear this, the forbidden fruit will be dragged into the abyss

and you can move on to the next stage.

I'll open the scroll now.

...Wait. // I want to ask you something before we do that.

Yes?

Can you.. tell us where the data of the "young King Zahard" is?

.........

By Zahard.. do you mean the King of the Tower?

That's right.

His data is certainly in here....

But I do not know where he is. // He came in here before I even existed..

If you want to meet him, you'll have to find him yourself.

........Ah, is that so?

(Data of Zahard?)

...That guy // That look he gave just now..

seems like he's hiding something..

Then, let's move on with the Grand Quest.

He knows where the data of Young Zahard is.

The "champion villain" that will be your opponent this time-

is the "Mama Long-Tailed Tit" [T/N: so... tempted... to call it.... Mama Tit..... SIU why]

Eh..? // Long-tailed tit..?!

Chiiirrp!!

Hm..?

Wh-what the!! What's that little thing?!

Chiiiiiirrp-!!

This bird is the "champion villain"!?

It looks weak..

Chief.. the long-tailed tit // is a bird from the D-rank quest.

Why did such a low level villain appear?

............

Big Breeder-nim.. what are you thinking..

The "Mama Long-Tailed Tit" is the champion villain of the long-tailed tits. // It is very weak. You could say it's the weakest among them?

It is very defensive of the eggs on its head that it protects, so you shouldn't attack there first. // Although its maternal love is strong, its skills are terrible.

What..?! So you mean you intentionally summoned a weak villain for us?

That is correct. // Actually, I accidentally bumped the difficulty level of your previous quest.

This is a place to welcome and prepare those who have cleared the Hell Train // not a place of a harassment.

It is our little gift to you.

Actually.. // it's so that you can clear

this stage a bit faster

I want to see you kill your friends that are inside the "forbidden fruit"-

How great. As expected of Big Breeder-nim!!

................

What will we do, Koon? // ..Wanna attack it first?

...Wait!!

It could be a trap!! // Even the octopus before was stronger than it looked.

You're too cautious, blue turtle!!

Shut up, gator.

What.. is this uneasy feeling..

That guy.. // is he hiding something..?

..What is this?

Is this the "different route".. // that you were talking about?

....Yes. Like I said, this is impossible for normal humans.

The quarantine area is composed of four large shelters and each shelter has their own exit.

That's why reaching the final exit takes a long time because you'll have to go back and forth many times. // But when you think about it, the quarantine area is spherical. And all the exits lead to its bottom.

If you can accurately figure out the drop points

You can pass through each shelter at the shortest distance.

Of course, you'll have to fight off the soldiers that will crowd at the explosion and then land at the right spot.

But if it's just us, we can do it.

No, maybe it's the easier way.

Although it's a bit dangerous!! // But it's the only way now!!

Oi!!

You'll get lost if you don't follow me carefully!! So watch out!!

..Should we trust him?

....There's no other way. // Let's go.

Shit!!

I hope-

those outside won't take on the Grand Quest yet..!!

30 min later-

Chiiiirrp!!

..Maybe it's better to attack.. Koon? // We haven't touched it for a long time already.

Just wait a bit longer. // I don't feel good about this.

Feeling, feeling!! You keep on saying that!! Let's just attack it already!! // This is like the Floor of Tests all over again!!

Shut up, gator!!

Somehow.. I feel // that this is a trap..!!

Big Breeder is definitely hiding something from us.. So..!!

That bird is hiding a tremendous power!!

chirp?!

...So that blue hair.. is "that kind" of person..

(Look!! She's taken aback!! She's flustered because she was planning to betray us!!)

(What do you mean she's flustered!! She's just surprised!!)

(A dragon will definitely come out of it once we attack it!!)

He can solve difficult problems well // but he takes a long time solving easy problems..

....If I knew..

(Tch...)

I would've summoned a stronger villain.

(Don't let your guard down, everyone!! She's waiting for us to attack first!!)

(Arrgh!! You're so frustrating!!)

(

(I'm going to fking die from frustratioooon!!)

Well, it won't change anything even if it's a bit late..

(chiirrp!)

They can take their time completing this quest-

Since those guys will never be able to open that door anyway-

Follow me!! We're almost there!!

Is that.. the exit?

Yes. It's the only exit that is connected to the outside. // Surprisingly, there are no traps and and no soldiers on the other side.

But there's no way to open it.

I've broken through all the traps coming here- // But when I saw that door with an empty window that you can't input any password in, I realized

Aah. From the very start, Big Breeder had no intention of letting us escape from here. The reason he made this complex maze,

and have us run around and die many times looking for the exit // was simply to mock us.

I suffered a lot just to get to this exit // but I couldn't actually get out~ I mean

What the heck!!

So I waited for you. // I know you have to power to bring down those people.

..............

If it's you..

you can easily open it.

Go on.

A door that you can never pass.

If Big Breeder is Young Zahard's underling.. then if I use..

..this power, then perhaps..

Shinwonryu!!

....!! // It... o..pened!!

What, isn't that too easy!?

(I'm a bit disappointed.)

W..e..couldn't... open.. it.

I knew it..!!

This person is him!!

..It'..s open?

V-ssi..!!

Big Breeder-nim!!

(Where are you going!!)

(Aaaarrrgghhh!!)

(..........)

Big Breeder-nim!! It's an emergency!!

...?

Those guys in the quarantine area....!! The.. the exit..!!

They broke the exit and escaped!!

(What..!?)

This place..

It's outside the quarantine area!!

Finally..!! We finally succeeded in escaping, Batis-nim!!

...Y..eah..

Could you look at this? Rose.

I wrote the lyrics to that song I composed the other day.

It's not yet finished but..

This..

is a really beautiful song.

It's a song of praise!!

To the great Big Breeder-nim!!

Batis-nim?

.........

Let's go.

#Tower of God #translations #S2ch271

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blahblahemblem · 7 years ago

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heroes barracks tour: armours

henlo and welcome to the series of posts where I brag about my Heroes account that I promised half a year ago! I tried doing a more wordy series, similar to my first post, but I prefer this play-by-play just talking about each unit separately instead of wracking my brain trying to sort them by teams or whatever

note: ignore the seals, I didn’t bother making sure they made sense when I was taking these screenshots so some of them are really silly

Before I go into detail, a disclaimer: I don’t like running armours as a team and I have no intention of ever building a complete decked out Armour Emblem like I did with other movement type-based teams. I find them unwieldy and difficult to use. I’m also not interested in chasing down high rankings in Arena Assault where armour teams shine as a starter. That said, I don’t mind them much when they’re part of a mixed team with access to Guidance and dancers. Armour March mitigates things somewhat as well.

The number 1 use for my armour “team” is doing the monthly 10th stratum quest.

NB: I wrote all of this before the trailer for Winter’s Envoy dropped, and I’m posting it before summoning on it.

5* builds

Not much to say here. Arden is quite the amazing gift to be given out for free, with his access to constant quadding (well, provided he stays above half HP) and incredible physical defences. I still don’t use him that much.

Earth Boost is a natural choice considering that Arden has the highest HP in the game and thus benefits from it pretty much constantly. The C slot is either an armour buff or his native Drive Def depending on which kind of team he’s on.

Future improvements: Swap for the armour team set. (Pivot is best for mixed teams.) I suppose I could replace Earth Boost, but Death Blow, the only other readily available option, seems like total overkill and is also hotly contested for. If Fire Boost is ever dropped into the 4* pool, I might go for that.

I don’t have any plans on merging him. I’ve already used my 4* copy to give Drive Def to one of my young dragons, and whenever he is finally rerun in a TT mini or something I would likely just keep the 5* around as Brave Sword+ fodder. Sorry, Arden.

Usage: I’m trying to get him going in a tandem with Tana, where he could be Guidance-dropped to quad the stuffing out of something, but it’s not taken off so far, mainly because I haven’t really built Tana yet. Otherwise he’s buffing Henry on the armour team.

Another great gift to free players that I’m not utilising to his full potential because hnnng armour movement.

He also has Vantage and Spur Spd 3 inherited as his “mixed team” set. To be honest, I should just give him Quick Riposte, because Vantage is rather useless in player hands and I haven’t got much mileage out of WoM, but I’m low on Subakis.

Improvements: Needs QR2 and Swap. Unfortunately he’s very low on my priority list for that.

He’s not getting any merges either. The 4* copy became WoM3 food. Future copies will be used for that and Steady Stance 3 (highly doubtful that I’m about to swim in Shiros any time soon, so BK is my only lifeline here).

Usage: Sometimes I pull him out for Arena Assault when there’s like an archer and some greens. He’s also now attached to the hip with Henry because of Hone Armour. Another thing I’m trying to do is make him work together with my Firesweep Shanna, sort of so he can drop in to protect her and she can lug him around with Guidance (the seal), but it’s going about as well as the Tana/Arden thing.

+res -def

Hector is the reason I even have this account, so I’d be immensely grateful to him even if he hadn’t basically carried my ass through the early stages and the first three Tempest Trials (+ the mini one). There are very few units that are better for a fresh account than him.

I love these IVs as well. I’ve seen people act like they’re bad somehow, but honestly he wants extra res a lot more than he mourns the loss of def. I actually have a +atk –spd copy lying around now from the Fjorm banner and I don’t feel like switching at all.

This is his armour team set-up. Normally he has Pivot and Spur Atk 3 (for which he killed his own daughter, the monster) equipped. He also has Vantage learned because of course, but just as with BK I don’t like it very much. Renewal has been on him since the first TT when I was desperately trying to find any source of sustainment, and I love how it works because it keeps him in Armads range. Draconic Aura was originally a substitute because I didn’t have Bonfire fodder, but I don’t see any reason to change it now, it works just as well.

Improvements: In line for Renewal 3. (I’ve pulled exactly one Fae total.)

Usage: Stupid question to ask about Hector. Although to be honest I haven’t been pulling him out very often lately except for armour quests. He’s maxed HM ages ago which is one factor. Now my other units can pull their weight and I don’t have to fall back on ole Heck anymore. And in AA I suffer from this syndrome where I try and save my strongest units for a more difficult challenge later and end up not using them at all. It just feels silly to pull out your Hector against like one Fjorm or something, you know?

+def -res

I really lucked out with him! I had nine orbs, and I’ve already done the free summon on Trick or Defeat. This was what I got:

Yeah.

The IVs are a bit silly, trading one of his best stats for one of his worst, but the result is a nice mix of bulk so I can’t complain.

I suppose with those IVs it would only have been natural to go for a Gronnowl build, but I’m a big sucker for bladetome nukes, so here we are.

Improvements: I’ve already given him everything I wanted for a “budget” build, in as much as changing one’s weapon can be considered budget. If I ever pull another Takumi (and what are the odds of that), I will invest into an owl build with Quick Riposte or something.

Usage: Now that he has Gronnblade, I’m hoping to make him see more use, but we shall see. So far he’s mostly still in armour hell. Armour March only helps so much.

4* merge projects

+2, neutral

Basically Effie’s fate depends on whether or not I can pull more of her. If I do, I might promote one to get DB3 and Silver Lance+ (I will probably stick to using the Brave build, but it’s nice to have options).

Effie used to be pretty vital to my armour “team” but then BK/Arden/Henry happened so she’s kind of gathering dust. I actually think it’d be better if I replaced one of BK or Arden with her again so they actually resemble a team of some sort (two greens and two reds is pretty dumb), but I think she needs more merges first.

+3, no clue about IVs

I don’t like Wendy, let’s get that out here first. She was part of the “team” initially solely because I needed that fourth unit for the quests and she has Hone Armour. Training her even thus far was a nightmare. But I keep fucking pulling her, and with the exception of that one 4* I gave to BK I’ve just been merging them. If she continues to haunt me past ~7 merges I will promote one so she can have an actual weapon.

I’m passing over Sheena and Draug even though I could work on them because frankly I have enough green and red armours.

Not pictured

Zephiel. I don’t plan on merging him as I’d like to keep some Wary Fighter/LaD fodder around, and with BK/Arden existing he’s not really part of any team anymore. But he is a GHB unit, so I’m not going to get rid of that one 4* lvl 40 copy.

#heroes rambles

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sithlordintraining · 7 years ago

Text

She’s No Angel (Part 10)

A/N: dun dun dun dun . . .THANK YOU GUS FOR JUST BEING YOU GUYS! My 500th post for my most loved work and part 10. I do this for the kids. Part 10 is here, bye!

She’s No Angel Masterlist

Kylo paced back and forth in the command shuttle. He knew kidnapping you was wrong, but he needed to explain. There was something about you that made him so torn. Maybe he acted this way because he genuinely craved and liked the attention you gave him, while also hating how easily he was slipping into this comfortable position. You were a distraction, yet he felt the need to impress you constantly. He ripped the helmet off his head, maniacally breathing. He didn’t want you to find out like this. He was thankful, for the first time, that Hux gave him the chance to tell you. But of course, he ruined it. Kylo just felt like he was always messing up with you. It always felt like three steps forward and several steps back. He knew his emotions were a loose cannon and it didn’t help that he couldn’t understand nor control it. Not to mention the power you held over him. He didn’t understand what it was about you that made him succumb so easily. And that’s what frustrated him so much to the point where he went mad. And to top it off: jealousy.

Everyone adored you. Everyone wanted to be you. Or be with you. And he hated being like everyone with his position as Commander. Not only did he have to compete with Hux for your attention, but also, a stormtrooper! THE Kylo Ren vs. A Stormtrooper, who could’ve been reassigned, reconditioned, or killed. No, but then that would hurt you. And he’s hurt you enough. This was a daily fight that roamed through his mind every day; how he wanted to react was always questioned by his subconscious: ‘What would Y/N think of you?’. He took one deep breath, cracking his neck. Kylo was still angry and wouldn’t be able to talk to you, so he decided to meditate.

Maybe it was the pills, maybe it was the trauma, all you knew was this was the worst nightmare you’ve ever had. Matt being Kylo, Kylo kidnapping you? Definitely a dream. Until you woke up to a sea of stars surrounding you. “You’re up.” The rich voice that you loved so much rung. You quickly spun around “Matt!” The smile on your face quickly faded at the sight of Kylo. ‘So it is true?’ You thought. Before you could even blink, you felt your body tense like he's done before. “Shh, don't cry.” Kylo’s glove hand went to cup your face as the tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “Shit.” He whispered. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. “Y/N please.” He begged and you squeezed your eyes trying to make it a dream. “Y/N.” he said more sternly. Your eyes went wide, he was still your superior and would definitely listen to an authoritative voice. You watched as Kylo sat in the pilot seat, across from you. He positioned your chair and body, that you could only view him. He turned his face revealing his sharp profile littered with beauty marks. You loved Matt's beauty marks on his soft skin and how you tried to count them when he wasn't paying attention. Kylo turned to face you at this thought. If your body wasn't locked you would've flinched at the sight of the sharp scar that crossed his face.

“It's beautiful, the stars?” He spoke, “I never enjoyed them as much as I do now.” You could see the soft brown eyes that Matt used to look at you with. “Y/N,” he said louder. “It wasn't supposed to happen like this.” Kylo looked down, hunched over on with his elbows on his knees. “I guess what I'm trying to say,” he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “I just want to explain everything. I wanted to tell you before things get out of hand like they did. But what we had was so good and I didn't want to mess it up. Like I did. And I know after everything, you wouldn't even be in the same room as me, let alone listen. I'm sor-let me just explain from the beginning.” He let out a shaky breath.

“When I first saw you, it was in passing. But, it was your mind. So strong and clear. It was so beautiful. Everything that Snoke told me my mind should be, you have it. It was truly amazing to be in. It’s astounding how such a young and non-force user has created such a mind.” He waved his hand. “But, I didn’t really get inside until the first day. And you were so nice, no matter how much I annoyed you. You just still shown me nothing but.” He stopped and looked at you, heavy. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You could still see Matt. “I’ve heard so much about you, before hand. Very impressive. And when it came down to it, I would never think it would be you. I couldn’t help but be drawn into your loving personality and beautiful.” He bit his lip and nervously laughed. “I’m sorry, even now, I just get so distracted by you and can’t think straight.” The sight was simply odd; Kylo nervously grinning at your tear stricken face.

“I’m supposed to be explaining.” He combed his fingers through his hair once again. “As I said, I was impressed, intrigued by you and just simply wanted to get to know you. Matt, started as infiltrating the lower ranks for traitors. It just so helped that it was another way to find out about you, once I truly saw you. And as me, Kylo, I didn’t do such a good job. You don’t remember and I-I I’d rather not tell you, but I need to be truthful. I didn’t mean to lock you in the office, I didn’t mean to choke you. I just, you just, my feelings, I didn’t-don’t understand them and you weren’t helping. I’m so sorry to have traumatized.” Your eyes twitched at the thought of him choking you like before.

“But, the next day you were fine. Happy, like nothing ever happened. When you caught me in the hallway, I was just going to spy really, but you caught me. You were visibly calm and genuinely happy to see and spend time with me. Then at the party, when we drank, you were innocent yet mischievous, it was confusing how it could be so. And then when we kissed, it was intoxicating. I hated how in control you were, but stars did I love it. I didn’t want it to end, but you fell asleep and my mother taught me better.” He quipped the last part quickly. He brushed the (y/h/c) strand back out of your face and wiped the tears that were dripping off your chin. “You were my first, you know. Kiss.” He said shyly, pulling away.

“Later that night, that friend of yours, Lucky.” He snarled. “He punched me. I hate him, you know? It was very upsetting when he took responsibility for making sure you got back safe, while he made out with some girl. You should be thanking me that I haven’t killed him already. Well after this incident? I don’t know about that.” A breath caught in your throat. “No, no, no, don’t be frightened. I didn’t-it was a joke.” Kylo tried reassuring, but you both knew it wasn’t. Kylo opened his mouth to tell her about the other troopers, but thought it best if he didn’t, so maybe she wouldn’t side with Lucky. After all, he did all of this so she could choose him. “But, I saw a chance to redeem myself, Kylo. When you forgot everything I’ve done and I agreed to the ball to possibly help me. Of course, I didn’t take in account of you not going. But, I guess we can thank Hux for that one.” He huffed. “He bragged to Phasma about how happy he was that you decided to go and how he would spend no expense. I saw him finalizing your looks, horrendous. I don’t care what traditions that planet had. You’re beautiful and I wouldn’t want you to be seen in them. It could be selfish, yes that I chose that dress for you. Red is my favorite color and I knew you would glow in it. The way it hugged and showed your body. It was your moment. I didn’t mean for you to be uncomfortable and you were right, no one should look at you as if you’re just pleasure, you deserved to be acknowledged and rewarded. That’s why I made Hux give that speech.” Kylo looked out at the stars again. “Y/N, I wanted to tell you that night. I wanted to apologize, for everything and tell you. But, Hux made me stay.” He rolled his eyes.

“And that’s when I talked to him about promoting you. You have outgrown your position, I saw how you craved something more. I’m very glad you accepted the position. But it hurt, when you didn’t hug me at the meeting. It made me realize how our relationship was much different between Kylo and Matt. I knew if I was Matt you wouldn’t have shaken my hand.” Kylo looked up at you with those brown eyes. More tears started to fall from your eyes as he continued on. “I let you leave that party in hopes of maybe, you seeing me, as Commander, in a different light. Maybe how you see the General or the Captain. Also, I just wanted to be with you, just you to share and congratulate you in your moment. That’s why I was dressed as Matt when you returned from Lucky’s.” He grabbed your stiff hand. “That night, I never experienced something so pure. You had this wave vibrating off you of genuinely wanting nothing but to be with and around me. I’ve never had anyone want nothing else but just me and it made feel so light. When you feel asleep I just stared at you. Me feeling the need to tell you the truth became questioned. Once I told you, I knew everything would be over. I had to leave you alone because I needed to meditate on this. I decided I wouldn’t tell you, I didn’t want to lose you.”

Kylo’s eyes shifted and he looked down, regret quickly filling him. “I didn’t mean to lash out on you. I-I when I saw Lucky and you, I couldn’t control it. We had such a great night, I didn’t expect you to ignore that. But you didn’t” He looked up with a small smile and glossy eyes. “You called me because you wanted to see me, you wanted to confide in me, you wanted me to take it all away. You broke me so easily. And it hurt so much, so I took it upon myself to protect you, from me and Lucky and anyone else you decided to hurt you. Lucky just deserved it and just served as an example.” Kylo looked back down, eyes glazing over his massive ungloved hands. He was very unsure what other things should be said or explained. One part of him wanted to tell her everything, but he just wanted her to understand and not sway judgment.

He let out a shaky breath. “I never meant to hurt you.” His lips trembling when he looked at you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.” Both your faces covered in tears. He launched himself forward falling on his knees and placed his head clumsily in her lap. Your eyes drifted down at the sight. Your body was still frozen and this man constantly pleaded an apology. The only thing you could do was watch him. He grasped your hand squeezing it as he begged for your forgiveness. Never have you ever seen or thought Kylo would be so capable of owning up to his wrongs and none the less, begging. Kylo opened his eyes seeing the goosebumps that stood on your legs. He had forgotten how he snatched you from your sleepy state. He removed his cape and draped it over you, simultaneously releasing you. Your body lurched forward coughing out sobs as you clutched the fabric around you. Kylo walked back bracing himself against the ship’s walls. He intently watched you as he was ready to face whatever consequence you were going to give him.

“Can-can you take me back, please?” Your voice was shaky and low. He stepped forward. “What about our talk?” Kylo whispered.Our? He spoke the whole time! You didn’t want to talk about this, but you didn’t want to make him angry. “I’ll. . . think about it.” He moved forward to help you up. “Yes, yes.” He shook his hand helping you stand. “I-I want to go to the cell. I want to think alone.” You said looking into his brown orbs. He looked down at you, holding his breath. He didn’t want you to be alone, with him there. But, if it meant you forgiving him. He would accept it.

It felt like forever, but you guys were finally here. Kylo escorted you to the closed-ramp. Before he opened it, you turned to look at him. Your index finger traced his scar. Your eyes roamed his face. Same eyes, same nose, same everything, with different hair and a scar. “You’re different. So strange, yet so understanding.” A small smile fell on your lips. “I enjoyed every moment I spent with you.” Your eyes began to sting from all the crying. Your palm lay gently on his cheek. “You didn’t treat me like a child and I liked that. I liked you.” He nuzzled in your hand. “But, you’re not Matt.” His eyes opened. He watched her as she pressed the button to lower the ramp. You unwrapped the cape from yourself and held it out. He looked down as your fingers gripped the black fabric. You dropped it in his hand and made your way down the ramp.

Waiting for the return, was all the troopers, a few officers and Phasma and Hux right in the middle. He watched as you shakily made your way to the ramp. It was silent, not even the machines humming could be heard. Hux held a blanket in his arms, waiting to bring you back to safety. You tried to hold in the tears and embarrassment as you made your way down. But, one sob shook your whole body and you clumsily fell into Hux’s arm. He secured in his arms tightly. Phasma braced an arm on your back before hoisting you up. Kylo stood on the ramp as he watched everyone’s glare subside everyone turned their back on him. Leaving the space empty and alone.

You were brought to the medbay and they ran a series of test. You could see the General and Captain outside discussing. Well, it was mainly the General pacing and hands flailing. Phasma turned and made her way to the door. You averted your eyes when she entered. “Y/N.” She took off her helmet. “I’m here to ask some questions. The General is a little on edge. If you don’t feel comfortable, just let me know.” You shook your head. You didn’t mind the questions, until it got personal. “Y/N, did he ever force you to do anything?” You shook your head. “Did you guys ever?” You squirmed in your bed. “Well, we were going to but, that’s when I found out.” Phasma tilted her head as if she knew there was more. “I-I did, give him a blowjob. He passed out.” Her mouth twisted up. She snorted “Oh stars, Kylo. Are you a virgin Y/N?” “Yes.” “Did you practice or?” “I just researched and asked a few of the nurses.” Phasma rolled her eyes, everyone knew how easy the nurses were.

“Is-is Lucky ok?” You asked trying to take the embarrassment off of you. Phasma straightened up. “He is hurt. Three of his ribs are broken and a few bruised disk, he’s stable after surgery.” You started to cry this was all your fault. “Would you like to see him?” She asked. You shook your head and followed her down the hall. The window came into view and you saw Lucky sleeping. She let you enter the room alone. The machines beeped and you slowly approached him. You examined his body. “I’m dead right?” a strained voice spoke. “Lucky!” you grabbed his hand. “I really am right?” He smiled, eyes still closed. “I’m sorry.” Tears ran down your face. He tried to wipe the tears but winced at the pain. “Stop, no, you’re hurt. It’s still amazing that you’re even alive.” “That’s because I have you.” You rolled your eyes. “Lay with me.” He said and you did. Making small movements to not cause any pain, you gently laid your head on his shoulder. “You have three broken ribs and bruised disk. You could’ve killed on impact, the ribs could have punctured your lungs, or you could’ve been paralyzed.” He shook his head “Nah, you’ll always protect me. Look around my neck.” You pulled at the dog tag that was tucked discretely. “You still have this?” You asked. “Never take it off.” It was your dog tag from the academy. Flipping it over you saw the horribly engraved ‘Lucky’ on it, that you did personally. “Always there to protect me, Angel.” His words hummed as he drifted back off into sleep. You tucked the tag back and observed him in peaceful slumber. Your eyelids started to droop. Today’s traumatic events had tired you out. You curled into the side of your body and drifted off to sleep.

P.S: WE DID IT!! I have more to say but will make a separate post. HMU!

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stephfitblr · 8 years ago

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{hi hello hey here comes a wall of text because I haven't blogged in soooo long and I have all this stuff built up and I'm on mobile and have no idea how to do a read more so sorry just keep scrolling if you don't wanna read okay bye} so my Grandmaster posted this on my Facebook today. (and yes, before you ask, he has "Master" listed as part of his name because he's trained for like 50 years and nobody refers to him by his first name okay enough disclosures here) if you're just tuning in, I train in taekwondo. I have been for a couple years now. I'm currently an advanced blue belt. and I've loved it for the most part. It's been a huge part of my life, yadda yadda yadda. read my "steph does taekwondo" tag if you want more backstory recently I've been having a hard time. I have thought about quitting a lot. my main instructor predominately teaches at another dojang now, I only see him in passing maybe once a month. I miss him a lot. There was just a black belt class that tested, and most of them will stop training regularly. We've had a ton of changes in people, class time, focus, etc. sometimes I'm the only adult training with a bunch of kids. sometimes grandmaster is too busy and the class is largely unstructured. sometimes he'll tell the black belts to do one thing, he takes the white belts, and then I'm left to just figure it out. I do a lot of poomsae on my own. in fact, since my instructor is at the other school right now, I'm alone a lot. Grandmaster largely ignores me. the other day, we had an unusual class of 10+ people, 8 of them lower rank than me, so I was at the front of the room (we line up in order if that makes sense). Grandmaster stood opposite of me, calling out various kicks and drills he wanted us to do. he commented on everyone's performance - "B, nice job. C, kick higher. R - switch your feet." etc etc. except me. he said nothing to me or about me and I was two feet in front of him. it was as if he was looking through me. I even purposely did the wrong moves for one drill just to see if he'd notice or say something. He didn't. a couple Saturdays ago, we had a "poomsae seminar" with a master from Korea that Grandmaster has known forever and really respects. it was three hours long. THREE HOURS. and guess how many times we did each Taeguek form? once. the first 2.5 hours were spent on just punching, kicking, stretching, and having to do punishment push-ups and stuff because the younger belts couldn't focus and kept mouthing off. I got a good workout, but I was sooo frustrated by the end. I was anticipating spending much more time going through each form, getting specific feedback, etc. the seminar was for colored belts, they had a separate seminar later that afternoon for black belts, and that's exactly what they did. they all said they loved it. Monday's class, Grandmaster asked students what they learned during the weekend's seminar. Each black belt stated something that the visiting Master taught them - the timing for a poom, clarification on whether it's a blade hand over a fist, the height of the kick or the degree of the turn. they were all happy with it. Grandmaster turns to me and asks me what I learned. I said "nothing new" which I immediately realized was the incorrect answer. He said, "nothing?" and I explained that I had envisioned spending more time doing the actual poomsae forms, since the seminar was called "poomsae seminar." I said that I felt like it wasn't for me and that I wasn't interested in doing another seminar. He. Went. Off. On. Me. And I know I'm overly sensitive. but he began ranting about how dumb I must be to think that we would have done poomsae for three hours, that poomsae is made up of each individual movement and that the focus was to strengthen each piece so that the whole would be stronger, and that he was watching me at the seminar and I was making a lot of mistakes and that it's foolish of me to think that I don't need to work on the basics and how dare I think I deserve to go to nationals if I can't even withstand a simple seminar I just kinda bowed my head and said okay and tried to not cry. he walked away from me and left me to practice my poomsae. but how do you practice after that? he just told me to do individual pieces, not the full forms. I have four different forms that could be selected for competition - which do I choose? do I pick the part I'm least familiar with, knowing he'll come by and tell me every little thing I did wrong, or do I do a part I know real well? but then I'm not practicing really. I was kinda frozen there when he turned away from the other students and back to me. he said, "well go on then, Stephanie." and I replied, "I don't know what you want me to do." he began speaking again but honestly I didn't hear any more of his words. because now is when I started crying. I work so hard, spend countless hours in the dojang, practice over and over, watch videos of other competitors to see what they do, and all I want is for him to see me and acknowledge me. I don't care if all he does is correct me, at least that'd show that he's watching. at the state competition last month, he didn't watch me perform. He didn't give me a pep talk before or criticism or praise after. he didn't even wave from across the room. my instructor watched me; he was the only one. I had just burst into tears in the middle of class and he. Kept. Talking. He didn't soften his tone or do anything to show that he even realized I was upset. I, completely embarrassed, said "I gotta go" and ran off the mat. I went into the bathroom where I proceeded to have a full blown anxiety attack. It took several minutes for me to calm down. Finally, i got it together enough to leave the bathroom, grab my gym bag, return to the bathroom to change my clothes, and walk out. I heard him ask, "are you okay?" and I said no and just kept walking. I cried all the way home. that was April 17, the last time I went to class. the next day, he called me. at least, I think it was him. I don't have his personal number. He called at 8:30pm, the time the last class ends - no one calls me then. But I was too scared to answer. He didn't leave a message. I have a lot of other things going on in my life right now, including a job promotion that starts Monday and my continued house hunting, and I decided to take a little break from training. It's been a major source of stress and I don't need that negativity right now. I didn't really choose a specific timeline for a break - I had my gym bag in my car but each day chose to drive home instead of to the dojang. As each day passed, the more anxious I felt about returning. I thought - "what if he's mad? what if he yells at me again? what if I have another anxiety attack?" So I haven't gone back. I also thought - "what if he doesn't care? I could just never return, would he notice? Would he say something?" So on one hand, I'm glad he reached out to me on Facebook. Because he must care at least a little. On the other hand, I'm apprehensive. What if this just blows over and then he goes back to ignoring me? Sigh. So that's where I am right now. I don't know if I'm going to nationals. I don't know what will happen. I don't know when I'll see my instructor again. I don't even know how to reply to his Facebook post. but I do know I'll be in class on Monday.

#steph does taekwondo #budoblr #long post sorry #instructor probs

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ginta921 · 8 years ago

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Full Moon

Chapter 2 Pack Member

Exo omegaverse fanfic. Ch1

Main ship Baekxing. Side ones: Chansoo, Sekai, Krisho and Xiuchen.

Will contain a lot of fluff and smut, little bit of angst. Warnings: Blood, Sex, Swearing, Mpreg. Currently only one chapter is out, which is down below. Posted on aff and ao3 (written by me)

Words: 5383

That night it took Baekhyun quite a while to fall asleep. His thoughts kept returning to the alpha no matter what he was trying to think of. Eventually, at about five in the morning, he actually managed to fall asleep.

Baekhyun didn’t bother to wake up early the next morning. He lazed around in his cozy and fluffy bed till about three in the afternoon. He probably would have stayed even longer, but he actually promised to play another few ranked games of Overwatch in about twenty minutes. He played League of Legends more often, but Overwatch was still fun. Maybe Kyungsoo would join him today too, since he began getting good at Mei, even though he was sure that the penguin was hanging out in Chanyeol’s studio today.

A loud yawn escaped his lips before he finally sat up, rubbing his eyes a few times. He felt a lot better today. It felt as if his mind was clear, or well, it was until he heard a knock on his door and Junmyeon peeped inside, flashing him a smile upon seeing the sleepy head.

“Did you sleep well, Baekhyunnie? You seemed to sleep in today.” Junmyeon entered his bedroom without asking and sat himself onto the bed, gently petting over Baekhyun’s messy hair a few times.

“Yeah, I did. I guess the run really exhausted me. I couldn’t even fall asleep till like five in the morning.” Baekhyun whined a bit, slightly tilting his head towards the direction of the petting. Junmyeon was always so gentle and loving, like a true mother.

“I’ll bring you some leftovers from the breakfast in a few minutes alright? You go shower quickly, you stink.” Junmyeon commented with a soft chuckle. Oh… He must still be reeking of the sweetness from yesterday, or was it because of the pond water? Baekhyun lifted his arm up and took a slight sniff, grimacing. Definitely pond water.

“Thanks Junmyeonie.” Baekhyun spoke with a sleepy smile, jumping up from his bed and heading straight into the bathroom. He carelessly dropped his oversized shirt along with boxers onto the white marble floor before entering the shower.

Everything was going just fine. He was singing one of his favorite songs before sudden images began popping in his head. That alpha, Yixing, he really had an alluring scent. Were others not affected by it? Was it only like that to Baekhyun?

He suddenly remembered that sharp stare and the way he spoke. That deep voice… Baekhyun was definitely a weirdo to be able to get a boner just from thinking about him. He could see how perfect the other’s every feature was. His strong shape, visible abs even under the shirt and that scent is just… It’s too much. Baekhyun would definitely do anything to be able to ride him, to be able to sit on him and milk every single drop of c--!..

Wowow! Sloooow dooown Baekhyun!..

Well, he did have to take care of the problem between his legs though… His hand slid down and began playing around, though with each jerk his mind filled up with only dirtier images of Yixing. This… is really a trouble…

It didn’t take long before he softly bit into his bottom lip, letting out a dragged moan which he was sure that Junmyeon heard, because at that moment he heard the plate being placed down. Great timing…

Once he dried his hair, applied some usual eyeliner and dressed, he finally sat down in front of the computer. In a way Baekhyun was glad that his job was being a gamer, meaning, he didn’t really have to leave the house often. It was nice, but sometimes it really got boring and lonely.

He gazed over the plate of food, which contained a few nicely prepared slices of raw meat and vegetables, along with milkshake, just what Baekhyun liked. Baekhyun took the few pieces of meat and quickly shoved it into his mouth, realizing that he seemed to be a lot hungrier than he thought.

As soon as he put on the headset and entered voice chat, his friends greeted him cheerily and the group began playing.

The gaming session ended up lasting up until the evening, around eight. Baekhyun would have probably continued, but that was when Yifan called him down for dinner. Ah, he could just take it and go back upstairs. Won’t take long. He put his microphone on mute before getting up from the chair and stretching his arms upwards, releasing a soft moan. He felt so lazy today…

Baekhyun headed downstairs and to the dining room, already packing his plate with food and getting ready to leave when Yifan’s arm stopped him. Baekhyun only gave him a questioning look. “We have a guest today, so I would prefer if you stayed here for a bit longer.” He spoke gently before moving away. Baekhyun let out a soft whine and sat down in defeat, starting to nibble on a small piece of meat.

Wait… A guest. That means seeing Yixing. Hopefully Baekhyun won’t end up leaking everywhere again..

And as expected, within a few minutes, the seats filled with Sehun and Jongin, Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. Junmyeon sat beside Baekhyun before Yifan came downstairs with Yixing, both exchanging a few words in Chinese before smiling. They seemed to be getting along quite well. Yixing seemed to catch Baekhyun’s gaze and the dimpled smile only grew bigger. Baekhyun could feel his face heating up. Not only that, Yixing picked a seat right in front of him… Great. Just perfect… He’s definitely going to leak everywhere.

Baekhyun grabbed over the glass with lemon water and took a nervous sip, leaning his back against the comfy chair as he waited to hear what this was about.

After a few minutes, Yifan began speaking. “I’ve already sent out the information to Minseok and Jongdae, so the two know about this. I wanted for you all to gather up today so we would come up with decision, but first, I would like our guest to introduce himself.” He gestured towards Yixing with a smile before grabbing over his own drink.

Baekhyun just fixed his eyes on the table and pretty much tried to look everywhere else but Yixing. It might seem rude to him, but there was no way that he’s going to space out in front of all of them.

Yixing gave them all a warm smile before starting to speak. “I’m very grateful for such warm welcome and your help. I would’ve most likely not survived if it wasn’t for your generosity.” Yixing gave a deep bow before continuing. “I’m Zhang Yixing. I’ve come from China. Our pack had split up just recently because our leader has been killed around a year ago. None of us wanted to replace his spot, and since our group was so small, we ended up splitting. I have made connections previously with the few packs around here in attempt to join them, but yesterday I’ve ran into some trouble. I went there at a very wrong time, and instead got attacked.” He explained the situation as to why he was there yesterday to begin with.

Baekhyun could feel the male’s eyes shortly landing on him. Baekhyun rose his eyes shortly, just to see slight sadness written on the Chinese man’s face. Was he upset because Baekhyun didn’t pay attention to him? Nah… That can’t be. Nobody usually cares if Baekhyun pays attention to them or not, that was arrogant of him to think so.

Everyone gave soft nods and asked a few questions here and there, all seemed to like Yixing quite a lot, even Sehun who usually was pretty bad with meeting new people. All of them talked to him for a bit to get to know him better, but all Baekhyun did was play a game on his phone and try his best to make no eye connection. He noticed Yixing looking at him from time to time as if waiting for even a single word to come out of his mouth, but of course, none did.

As others finished their interrogation, Yifan revealed that he actually knew him from a few years back. Well, it made sense, since Yifan did live in China before moving here. He seemed to trust Yixing deeply.

“So I wanted you all to decide, whether it’s okay for Yixing to join our pack. We could always use another alpha and he needs a pack. I want you all to decide that today. Minseok and Jongdae have already contacted me on that matter.” Yifan explained, others exchanged a few looks with each other, but everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Yixing will definitely get accepted.

Yifan dismissed everyone once the meeting was over. Yixing gave a deep bow once again to everyone before they left upstairs. Baekhyun was about to do so too, but as he was about to take a step on one of the stairs, his wrist got grabbed. It startled Baekhyun and he moved his head up, landing his eyes on no other but Yixing, who had quite an upset expression on his face.

“Did I scare you off yesterday? I didn’t mean to… It’s just that you haven’t said a single word today nor looked at me.” He sounded apologetic, slight hint of… fear? No way.

Baekhyun felt as if his skin where Yixing was touching began burning. He let out a shaky breath before trying to fix up a smile. “No… I’m sorry if it seemed like that. Everything is fine really. Well, you are pretty much a stranger, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t talk much.” Baekhyun said hurryingly, trying to pull his wrist away just to get it grabbed again.

“Something’s bothering you. It’s okay if you don’t want me to join, please give an honest answer to Yifan.” Yixing cracked a soft smile before chuckling. “He came up with the offer quite fast, so I’m sure it must be shocking to all of you.” He spoke with such a sweet voice that Baekhyun began feeling his sanity drifting again. His eyes landed on the strong chest of the alpha. All he wanted to do was jump forward and nuzzle in it.

Yixing must have noticed his spaced out expression because his finger softly tapped over Baekhyun’s cheek. “Are you feeling alright? Let me help you get to your room.” He offered kindly, grabbing over Baekhyun’s hand instead and leading him up the stairs. He would have definitely tripped if Yixing wasn’t leading him. Then again… the only reason he would trip was because of Yixing.

The two reached Baekhyun’s room’s door. Yixing gave him a soft smile before his hand reached out, giving a few soft pets over his red hair. Baekhyun felt himself jolt before his body instantly relaxed, hair was his weak spot. His eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. He tilted his head obediently towards the direction of the pets that turned into stroking. He could feel his body heating up before suddenly he could smell very sweet scent surrounding him.

Baekhyun was inviting him. Baekhyun wanted him.

That was the exact same time he felt Yixing’s hand freeze in his hair before quickly pulling away. Baekhyun released a whine in loss, well, a whine that pretty much sounded like a moan because of his state. His eyes just barely parted to see Yixing breathing heavily himself, his eyes switching from sharp and soft.

“B-Baekhyun… I’m sorry I’ll go into my room now.” He apologized before rushing away into his room, his hand slightly covering his nose.

Baekhyun’s eyes widened and he looked after him and how the door closed. Baekhyun just-… He just got rejected. Was he not good enough? Was he not worth even the slightest attention from an alpha? Was he ugly? What was wrong with him? Why did Yixing run away? What-..

He didn’t realize how tears began streaming down his face and few sobs escaped his lips. He knew that he was overreacting, but that’s what all omegas would do if their scent and invitation got rejected. He felt so worthless now…

He really wasn’t enough for anyone huh? Loner for life.

Baekhyun forced his feet to move after about a minute. He got into his room and locked it behind him. His body slid down onto the floor before he buried his face into his knees, letting the loud sobs escape freely. After around a minute, he already heard Junmyeon knocking on his door and asking what was wrong, so did Sehun. Baekhyun didn’t answer and instead just told them that he’s fine, even though he clearly was not.

Baekhyun moved from the floor only around half an hour later, just to curl himself under the bedcovers instead. This time he fell asleep fast, well, mostly because he grew exhausted from crying.

Once the morning came, Baekhyun washed his face but couldn’t hide the obvious puffy and red eyes. He didn’t even bother changing before heading upstairs and into Yifan’s and Junmyeon’s room. He knocked a few times, just to get the door open by already freshly dressed Junmyeon, who looked quite worried.

“Baekhyun, what happened yesterday?” He asked instantly, and without waiting for an answer, he pulled the other inside his room and wrapped him in a motherly hug. Baekhyun let out a soft breath before clinging to Junmyeon, feeling his hair being caressed in an attempt to calm him.

After a few minutes, Yifan had come into the room. He didn’t have to ask for Baekhyun’s decision, because he gave it out immediately.

“No. I don’t want him here.” He knew he was being selfish right now, but at this moment he couldn’t help but be angry at Yixing who just left him like that yesterday.

Yifan’s expression seemed to soften before he sighed. “Yixing was waiting for you to wake up, you know. He wanted to apologize. He’s a good guy Baekhyun…” Yifan tried to reassure him, to which Baekhyun just let out a huff.

“My answer is still no.” Without any hesitation, Baekhyun got up and left the room. As he was heading downstairs, he shortly wiped over his hurting eyes, bumping into someone. “Sorry.” He said with the usual monotone voice and stepped aside to pass whoever it was, but instead his wrist was grabbed. Baekhyun looked up, seeing that it was Yixing with a very guilty face. He just has to meet him everywhere huh?..

“Baekhyun… I’m really sorry it’s just that-… Your scent is making me crazy and I really don’t want to just pounce on you. I want it to be meaningful, okay? I’m not the type to just play around. Please… Please understand me. I know it must have hurt you deeply.” He apologized repeatedly, bowing his head here and there. Even Baekhyun began feeling quite bad for overreacting, but at the same time his pride took over.

“Whatever, it’s fine. That’s how all alphas treat me, it’s no different. I understand that I’m not good enough. Now if you excuse me, I was planning to head out.” Baekhyun spoke, seeing Yixing’s expression turn from guilty to surprised. Why was he surprised now? Whatever, it didn’t matter. Baekhyun pulled his wrist away before heading downstairs in a quick pace. Yixing didn’t even try to stop him. So Baekhyun was correct after all. He really was not worth any attention. Maybe he should hit the club later and actually get properly laid for once… He wasted no time in getting dressed and putting on quite some make up, just because his eyes were puffy.

He greeted Kyungsoo shortly, receiving a surprised expression from the penguin to see that Baekhyun was going out somewhere.

Baekhyun was planning to go outside and maybe to some café or something first, but after taking just a few steps, he got a different idea. He knew how dangerous it was for omega to go out to a forest alone. Yifan forbid it. But… It’s not like he’ll find out. Nothing will happen anyways.

Baekhyun took a small turn and headed into the forest. He quickly removed his clothes and placed it onto one of the rocks before his body twisted into a wolf form. One way to get rid of bad thoughts is by running.

Baekhyun leaped over various obstacles and soon ended up back at the pond. Everything looked just as pretty at day as it did at night. His panting body lied down on shore, right under the cherry blossom tree. Being alone was quite relaxing, even though he couldn’t get the feeling of dread. It felt as if someone was watching him…

And as expected, he heard something moving behind him.

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rebeccahpedersen · 7 years ago

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The Cheapest Condos In Downtown Toronto: Too Good To Be True?

TorontoRealtyBlog

A client recently asked me about the five cheapest 2-bedroom condos in the downtown core, and asked me why they were so cheap, and whether or not the prices were “too good to be true.”

I suppose that depends on your definition of “too good to be true,” since you simply have to assume there’s a reason why a condo would be cheaper than a similar alternative.

I figured this would be a good way to share with you, not only some of the reasons why a condo is cheap, but also some of the areas and buildings where you can find them.

The “reasons” are not all objectionable. In fact, in some cases, they represent an opportunity for good value…

Before I rattle off this list, it needs to be said: these are not bad condos, and they’re not bad buildings.

They just happen to be the five cheapest 2-bedroom condos in the market in C01 and C08.

And it’s my job, whether playing devil’s advocate, or actually advocating for these five sellers, or the residents of these five buildings, to explain why they might be so cheap.

After ten years, and 2,000 blog posts, I know I’m everybody’s favourite until I say something about their building, so forgive me in advance if you happen to live in one of these condos, but they are the cheapest in the downtown core.

This isn’t intended to be a take-down piece; it’s simply an examination of five buildings, all in very different areas, of different styles, and ages, in attempts to draw a conclusion.

So without further adieu, here are the five lowest-priced condos, currently available for sale, in C01 and C08 on TorontoMLS – and I won’t provide the unit number, or photos, because of RECO and TREB’s ridiculously outdated codes of ethics, et al…

1) 40 Homewood Avenue

Building Details: 1972-Built 31 Storeys 492 Units Sherbourne & Carlton

Unit Details: 2-Bed 1-Bath 660 Sqft No Parking $557.91/month fees, all inclusive $329,900

This condominium was registered in 1972.

And right there, you might have “reason” enough to move on.

Simply put, “old” doesn’t sell in today’s Toronto market. Buyers are attracted to what is new and shiny, hence why people are willing to sleep on the pavement overnight to get in line at a condo sales centre. You know how I feel about the silly pre-construction sales industry, but bottom line – newer sellers better, even in the resale market.

A friend of mine asked me the other day, “How do you like being a dad?” I jokingly said to him, “It’s great, Maya listens to all my stories about winning back-to-back soccer MVP’s in 1995 and 1996.”

He then said, “Do you realize that when she’s old enough to actually understand what you’re saying, and know what year it is, that would be like our parents talking about 1962?”

Very true.

My point?

Much of the buyer pool is made up of young buyers, who can’t even comprehend the year 1972.

Tell me that’s lazy, tell me they’re ignorant, and tell me any multitude of things about “kids today,” and I might agree.

But I can’t control how the buyer market operates. Their tastes and preferences are not by design, but rather by nature. They like what they like.

And the age of the building isn’t the only dislike here, nor is it the only red flag.

These units have electric baseboard heating, and most condo buyers simply expect forced air, gas.

Thankfully, the utilities are included in the maintenance fees, otherwise the owner might be paying $200/month for heating.

But without air ducts for forced air heating, it also means you have no ducts for central air conditioning. That’s another feature of a condo that today’s buyer pool simply expects. The result is a slew of ugly window units adorning all four sides of the building.

I think there’s great value in this building, don’t get me wrong. For the right buyer, 40 Homewood Avenue has a lot to offer.

–

2) 150 Sudbury Street

Building Details: 2012-Built 20 Storeys 369 Units Queen & Dufferin

Unit Details: 2-Bed 1-Bath 630 Sqft No Parking $370.85/month fees, plus heat, hydro, central air $340,900

Just as the simple statement “1972” need only be said about the first condo, here we only need say “Urbancorp,” and I think many people can draw a conclusion on why units are so cheap.

You’ll call me biased, since I’ve been complaining about Urbancorp for over a decade, but I wasn’t wrong; they ceased operations in early 2016 after a massive scandal, and eventually, bankruptcy.

Believe it or not, Urbancorp once was a well-respected builder who put a quality product together. They built a complex at 119-139 Merton Street, which sells extremely well, in addition to iconic King West buildings like Electra Lofts.

But somewhere along the line, they started to build crap.

I’m sorry if anybody who owns at 150 Sudbury Street is reading this, but that is a very poorly constructed building.

And I know first-hand, because I owned an investment property in there, and watched it get built. It was probably one of the worst “new” condos I had ever seen in the city.

For those of you that have been reading my blog since the mid-2000’s, I’ll save you the recap of my epic stories that eventually led to the TRB feature, “The Friday Rant.” That reminds me, I think I’m softening in my old age, as I haven’t let loose a good rant in a long time…

But bottom line: it’s not just me who thinks this condominium, and others like it, are poorly built. It’s the whole real estate industry.

There’s a reason why you can get a 2-bedroom condo for $340,000, and why everything Urbancorp built in the King West and Queen West area is so cheap.

This isn’t a secret – the word is out, and the proof is in the pricing.

–

3) 36 Lisgar Street

Building Details: 2015-Built 21 Storeys 664 Units

Unit Details: 2-Bed 1-Bath 610 Sqft No Parking $399.40/month plus hydro and HVAC rental (approx $70/month) $359,900

Did you read that – up above? 21 storeys, and a whopping 664 units?

This is not a small complex.

Although, all the units seem to be.

In this entire building of 664 units, guess how big the largest unit is?

901 square feet.

Yes, this is a building that was constructed and primarily sold to pre-construction condominium investors, and now it’s mainly renters, and people buying, as the blog title suggests, the cheapest real estate in the downtown core.

Oh, and it’s also another Urbancorp building, which is the real reason why units are so cheap, as I explained at length for #2.

There are currently 13 units for sale in this building, and if we were truly looking at the cheapest 2-bedroom condos in C01 and C08, then 36 Lisgar would own rankings #4, #5, #6, and #7, with 150 Sudbury Ave owning ranking #2, and #3.

But I’m going to be “fair” and only give one spot to each building. So we’ll move on to the next two-cheapest, after 150 Sudbury and 36 Lisgar.

–

4) 415 Jarvis Street

Building Details: 2003-Built 3 Storeys 104 Units

Unit Details: 2-Bed 1-Bath 744 Sqft No Parking $289.76/month fees plus heat, hydro, central air $419,000

So here’s where the danger of writing about “cheap units” comes into play, since I absolutely love this complex, and the unit that is up for sale right now.

But we are talking about why units are cheap, and what makes them that way, thus the inclusion of a unit I love in a list of properties I’m speaking negatively about.

This is a 744 sqft condo for $419K. That seems too good to be true.

It’s also in a townhouse complex, which makes the value even more hard to believe.

But there are two main reasons why this unit is so cheap:

1) It’s a basement. 2) It’s a basement.

No, you don’t have double-vision, that’s the same reason twice.

But what I mean by that is that on the whole, a buyer does not want to live in a basement. The thought alone makes many buyers say, “I’m not interested” before they even go for a viewing.

Secondly, everything that results from being “in a basement” adds to the difficulty in wooing the buyer, and thus the price suffers in the end.

Buyers don’t want to feel like the live underground, so if there are elements present that give off that “vibe,” finding the right buyer becomes an uphill battle.

With this particular unit, being in a basement means there’s very little natural light.

And when you look at the size of the windows in the bedroom, you can see how a buyer might feel like they live in a windowless unit:

The master bedroom has a window that looks like it’s 18-inches in width, and it’s in a little nook in the corner of the room.

But not only is the window small, you’re also, you know in a basement.

So what does that window look out at? Is it a window well?

In the second bedroom, the window is slightly larger, but still – you know you’re underground.

Like I said – I love this complex, and I really like this unit, even though I’m providing reasons why a buyer would not like it.

It just takes the right buyer.

–

5) 320 Richmond Street

Building Details: 2012-Built 17 Storeys 343 Units

Unit Details 2-Bed 1-Bath 725 Sqft No Parking $422.39/month fees plus hydro and central air $459,900

Another building I love!

So why is this unit on our list?

Well first, let’s talk about the building.

313-323 Richmond Street and 320 Richmond Street are always atop my list of “value buildings” in Toronto.

When it comes to the desirability and popularity of condos in the St. Lawrence Market area, I always say: “King Street gets an ‘A,’ Adelaide Street gets a ‘B,’ and Richmond Street gets a ‘C.’”

Most people want to live on King Street, which is where the retail infrastructure is, as well as the TTC streetcar, but it’s also far away from the rif-raff at Moss Park; something that Richmond Street is not.

But so long as you know this area, and you’re aware that the people who frequent the shelters and missions across from Moss Park rarely, if ever, venture down to Richmond Street, then you can sleep well at night. Sure, the Tim Horton’s at Richmond & Sherbourne can get interesting at times. But maybe I’m desensitized since I’ve been going there for over a decade.

In any event, units on this corner represent value plays, as does this one above, for $459,900.

Now why else is this unit so cheap?

Well for starters, that “second bedroom” might not be considered a second bedroom, to many buyers.

And I’m so happy that this unit came in at #5 on our list, because the “bedroom-not-bedroom” conundrum is one that is often responsible for a “cheap” 2-bedroom condos.

What is a bedroom, anyways?

It used to be a room with a door, a window, and a closet, but the loft-craze of the mid-2000’s rendered all that moot, with the open-concept bedrooms in the middle of the condo, sliding doors and all, no windows to write home about.

So is a small enclave at the front of the condo, with a small closet, and a door, considered a “second bedroom?” With no window, and no natural light, maybe it’s not a bedroom.

And I think a lot of buyers are scoffing at the size and layout of this bedroom, and looking for something more useable.

This unit is also on the 4th floor, facing east.

Do you know what’s immediately east of this building?

A car dealership.

Car dealerships ALL end up being condos. I’m sure we could compile a list if we were so inclined.

This unit is facing directly into the future site of a magnificent hole in the ground – take a look at Google Street View:

It’s not a matter of “if,” but when the crane goes up.

–

Well folks, there you have it.

The five cheapest 2-bedroom condos in C01/C08, and the reasons why they’re cheap.

Our true list would have been 40 Homewood Avenue, two units at 150 Sudbury, and two units at 36 Lisgar, but that would make for a boring blog, so I only counted each building once.

Ordinarily, the other Urbancorp buildings would be on this list – 68 Abell Ave, 20 Joe Shuster, etc. But I was just taking a snapshot today, and seeing what’s what.

Remember – some of these are far from being “bad” units or buildings.

But I think the reasons we outlined today – a certain developer, poor workmanship, “stigma,” age of building, heating/cooling, below-grade, lack of natural light, proximity to new developments – are all reasons to be on the lookout for, the next time you ask, “Is this price too good to be true?”

The post The Cheapest Condos In Downtown Toronto: Too Good To Be True? appeared first on Toronto Real Estate Property Sales & Investments | Toronto Realty Blog by David Fleming.

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