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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months ago

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Dream a Little Dream (of Me)- Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Even more fun new abilities, like making Alastor have a real conversation!

I'm sorry, I know it's been forever- I have a terrible habit of getting caught up at chapter 5 on all of my fics for some reason 🤣 the new banner was created by my beloved @fraugwinska who is this fic's #1 hype woman (ily 💕)

I've hit a point in this story where I think I'm going to start implementing a few more plot elements- I love writing the smut but I have some fun ideas for actual story; they can only do so much before something else is needed to keep it going, so going forward there will be a bit less of a focus on the sexual aspects of the reader's relationship with Alastor and more on some emotional parts and world-building. I hope that's not too disappointing, and that you all will stick along for the ride with us <3

For weeks following your fleeing of his bedroom, Alastor is in an absolutely foul mood.

The night after your argument, your silent lounging on your bed- in your own bedroom once again, sleep deprived and irritated, unwilling again to interact with anyone else’s dreams- is disturbed by a shuddering of the hotel and loud, clattering thumps coming from down the hall. You stumble bleary-eyed into the hallway with everyone else, Charlie identifying the disturbance as coming from Alastor’s room and knocking gently on the door.

When he opens it he looks distraught, eyes wide, smile strained, his hair looking like he’s been running his hands through it constantly, tugging at it. “What is it,” he asks the Princess, and to Charlie’s credit she doesn’t shrink back from him when she asks if he’s okay, tells him that he’s disturbing everyone’s sleep.

He locks eyes with you where you stand a few feet away, still hovering halfway into your own room. “Perfectly fine,” he tells Charlie, but his eyes don’t leave your face. “Merely a… nightmare, I suppose. More of a disappointing dream than anything else, really.”

You duck back into your room with a slam of the door, chest heaving with your anger and frustration and not listening to whatever else he had to say to Charlie. What right did he have to say that you were a disappointment? You didn’t even know what he wanted from you, let alone what you had done wrong- what, not wanting to kill people? You were no saint, having ended up in Hell in the first place, but you had morals still, lines you wouldn’t cross. Regardless of anything that had happened between you thus far, any yearning or feelings that might have resulted from it, you wouldn’t change who you were as a person for him. You came to the hotel seeking redemption, for fuck’s sake- how could he think that he could ask that of you?

You start booking other hotel rooms with the money you’re earning as the Resident Events Coordinator- honestly, Charlie probably pays you way too much, but it's helping you in the meantime so you aren’t going to complain- and you’ll camp out for a few days at a time and practice your abilities in the dreams of others. It’s fun for a while, to innocently mess with people by creating clones and turning things upside down. You find that once you’ve been inside someone’s dreams you can almost tune into their thoughts like a radio broadcast now- a little concentration and you get fleeting snippets of consciousness from them; grocery lists, work tasks, gossip. It’s nothing like it had been with Alastor, like you were deep-diving into his brain, seeing his memories through his eyes. He might have been right about your connection to him being what allowed such a thinking to happen, since you showed no signs of being able to do such a thing with anyone else.

Charlie notices how often you’re away from the Hotel, because she’s doing everything in her power to keep you there aside from having Vaggie physically restrain you. She keeps proposing new activities for you to coordinate, from a night at the club to an outing at LuLu World, and most recently she had you planning a trip to her father’s mansion for some fancy dinner and tour- Lucifer himself wouldn’t be interacting with them beyond the actual meal, he was just opening the space to them so they could all see where Charlie had grown up, another lesson in ‘empathy’ that Charlie hoped would help them make progress.

So you spent the evening making sure that everyone was corralled into the correct locations and not slipping off where they shouldn’t be. Angel had already tried to convince Husk to raid the wine cellar with him, Niffty was lamenting that she wasn’t allowed into the King’s personal quarters to clean, and Charlie was growing more and more frustrated that rooms she wanted to show the group had been filled with rubber ducks. Alastor keeps his distance from you, occasionally fading into the shadows to go do his own thing- you hope Charlie and Lucifer don’t hold it against you that you have no ability to control that man.

Dinner calms everyone down, wine and delicious food putting everyone in a better mood while Lucifer dazzled them with magic and stories about Charlie as a child. You laugh along with everyone but you can feel Alastor’s eyes on you the entire meal, and when you finally steal a glance at him he’s looking away.

Typical.

You help Vaggie herd everyone into their rooms- their own rooms, to Angel’s disappointment at not being able to share with Husk- and leave Alastor to Charlie so she can berate him about not making an effort to get along with her dad, snippy barbs flying across the table at each other between stories. You tell the girls that you’ll stay up a bit later to make sure no one does any ill-advised exploring in the night, and bid them a goodnight as you head off to clean up from dinner. Lucifer seemed to have used his magic to take care of most of the food mess, but he’s nowhere to be seen when you return to the dining room so you take your time in stacking plates and organizing the dishes so that whatever staff he might have has an easier time of taking care of it all.

Just after midnight finds you seated on the couch in Lucifer’s library, your eyes surprisingly not bleary with a need for sleep despite not having truly rested in days. Everyone else is asleep- you focus your powers for a moment and can’t pinpoint anything coming from the others, other than an unpleasant staticky noise that comes from Alastor’s room. The fireplace crackles pleasantly a few feet away from you, the comforting smell of old books surrounding you and making things feel… calmer than they have as of late, with Alastor stomping around the hotel like some angry beast and refusing to interact with you at all. He was always making this expression towards you, like he wants to say something, or wants you to say something, and it was wearing away at your resolve.

You didn’t want to have this distance between you. Even beyond the more intimate moments that you had shared, Alastor had always been good company; he was helping you learn more about your powers, even if it was only to sate his curiosity; outside of his bedroom he was friendly and fun, and would probably rather die again than admit that he enjoyed the company of the others as well. Throughout of the course of this… thing between you, something had changed on your side. You think about the night he tore his stitches, the words you had whispered before realizing he had passed out above you.

“I would be yours. Forever. For as long as you want.”

The words still sit uncomfortably true in your ribcage, make the rift between the two of you feel even wider. Maybe it would be easier if he knew- if you could take his avoidance of you as an answer. You wanted to find him, try to have a proper conversation about boundaries when it came to your power- have a proper conversation about your feelings, and-

A throat clears in the doorway of the library, and when you turn Alastor himself stands in the doorway. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he says stiffly without stepping into the room, and you wave a hand at him to indicate that he can join you. He stands at the other end of the room still, closer to the fire, and won’t meet your eyes. “I heard you telling Charlotte that you would keep an eye on everyone tonight- but I know you haven’t slept. I’m happy to take up the watch if you would like me to place a temporary pocket dimension in your room, or transport you back to the hotel for the night.”

You want to drop it- ignore the fight that still hovers frustratingly between the two of you when Alastor is offering an out. His way of apologizing, perhaps, but your thoughts from earlier are still there. You needed to actually talk about it, or the pair of you would just keep coming back to the same issue.

“It depends. Does accepting your offer mean that we wouldn’t be talking about how you casually mentioned having me kill people for you? Because in that case, no thank you.” You watch the fire instead of him, how the flames twist and dance with one another as he stiffens at your words.

“I… regret how that evening transpired,” he says at last, ignoring your sigh as he comes closer to the couch. “I’ve thought on the matter and I recognize how such a request-”

“A request that you made seem like a command,” you remind him, “with that shit you pulled with the leash.”

He takes a deep breath, the flames flickering green behind him as he tried to keep his composure. “Yes, I can see now how that would have upset you. Regardless- I recognize how such a request was inappropriate, even if we did have a tentative agreement in regards to my limits with your powers. I understand that it is a boundary for you, and I will do my best not to test that again.”

You finally turn to look at him, and he looks… properly abashed. But there was no way he would have come up with that on his own, not with the glee that had been evident in his features when he brought up the idea. “Did Charlie help you with that?” You ask, and he scowls- which is less scary than he probably hopes it is, and is more a confirmation than anything else.

“I may have sought her expertise in handling interpersonal conflict,” he says, his stiff posture finally loosening up as he joins you on the couch. “Apologies do not come easily to me- not sincere ones, anyway. I don’t-” He clenches his fist and turns away from you, dark shadows crawling across the floor in arcs away from him. “I don’t know how to have something in my grasp without possessing it entirely. We have a deal but it’s not one that grants me the liberties that I would prefer in regards to your powers and your actions.”

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him. “I appreciate you being honest with me,” you offer, and he grimaces like the idea is distasteful. “Listen, I’m sure you think having feelings makes you weaker or something but really, it’s important to talk about these things. And to apologize… which I accept. But if we want to keep, you know, experimenting with my powers and whatever else, I think we need to have specific guidelines of what we expect of each other that isn’t crossing any boundaries for either of us. What, exactly, do you want?”

Alastor seems to struggle with himself for a moment, clenching his hands and refusing to meet your eyes. “I… I’m not quite sure what I want,” he says, like the words of ignorance pain him. “I’ve despised having to keep my distance from you since our disagreement. To see you laughing with the others and turning away from me with that look on your face was unpleasant to say the least. I don’t want that space between us again- if you’re amenable to the idea I think I would like to have you back in my bedroom, once I have repaired the bayou dimension.”

“You want to be closer then- physically.” You hop cushions, sitting right beside him and placing a hand on his knee. “That’s fine, we can do that- you’ll have to tell me what happened to the bayou sometime, though.” He nods stiffly, hesitating a moment before he places his hand over yours on his knee. “Anything else?”

“In regards to your powers, I would still like to experiment if you will allow me.” Alastor lifts your hand from his knee and presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “I understand that hurting others is a limit you will not cross-”

“I won’t hurt you either, if that was your idea of trying to get around that.”

He frowns. “Too clever for your own good- I suppose that is part of the reason that I tolerate you. Very well- I will not ask you to cause physical harm to anybody, period. I also still would like to ask that I am the only one who knows of your abilities for the time being.”

“Done. I do have a condition of my own.” You turn to face him fully, and pull his hand to your heart. “I don’t want this to be a proper deal- no soul binding or anything like that. I would want the rope from our wager removed.” He stiffens at that, but he doesn’t jerk away from you like you expected so you continue. “We have to be able to trust each other if we want any sort of relationship to work, whether it be for experimentation or something more. We should be able to follow each other’s requests and boundaries without needing it sealed with a chain- that doesn’t give us any room to adapt or change as my powers grow and situations shift.”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t look at you for a long moment, instead keeping his eyes trained on the flames before he finally nods- you bite your lip to keep from grinning or doing something stupid, like shouting in excitement. “I hope you realize what you are asking of me,” he says finally. “I don’t generally keep people close to me that I cannot control or own in some way or another. It keeps me detached from needing people, or caring about their approval. But I do believe I want those things from you, which is why I am agreeing to these terms. Please understand that this is… new territory for me.”

You lace your fingers through his. “It is for me, too. But that’s where the trust comes in- I have to trust that you’ll respect my boundaries without the compulsion of a deal, and you trust that I’m here with you because I want to be- whether you just want to continue experimenting with my powers or… anything else.”

Alastor’s red eyes glance at you from his peripheral. “Anything else, you say? I take it to mean that you also wish for things to return as they were between us in an intimate manner?” Your face flushes but you nod, and to your relief he smiles softly and reaches across the scant distance between you to touch your shoulder. “I would like that as well,” he says, and cups your cheek in one hand, leaning in so your foreheads rest against one another. His breath ghosts across your lips, and you realize with startling clarity that this would be the first time you’ve kissed him outside of dreams; the first one in reality, a milestone to mark the resolvement of your disagreement. You embrace it, leaning in and letting your lips meet, a gentle pressure before your mouth opens with a gasp when he trails his free hand up your thigh to caress the skin under your shorts with his thumb. “So soft,” he murmurs into the kiss, almost absently, and then he’s pulling you to him, maneuvering so you sit sideways in his lap. He lets his fingers creep a bit further under the hem of your shorts. “May I?”

“Please,” you whine, and he grants you mercy by snapping your clothing out of existence so he can make unhindered contact with your skin. His fingers move slowly, tracing through the wetness along the folds of your entrance before he parts them and slips a digit inside. The short weeks that have passed since the last time you were with him feel like a lifetime, but he still knows the intricacies of your body like a well loved instrument; a second finger follows, and pressure against the spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Fuck, Alastor…”

He steals the rest of your words with his mouth, his tongue snaking in to tangle with yours, drinking down the sounds you make like ambrosia. Another finger, and you twist in Alastor’s hold to grind yourself down against them, to angle your hips to guide him more effectively where you want him to go. “Someone is eager, hm?” He pulls back to whisper in your ear, hand finally leaving your face to come around your back, pulling you as close as he can to his body while still working his fingers inside you. His thumb comes into play, brushing with perfect pressure on your clit, dipping into the wetness that coats his fingers so the slide of it is slick and perfect. Tension builds inside you, muscles shaking as you ride Alastor’s hand towards a sloppy orgasm. He brings his mouth to your chest, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there before sucking gently, still making eye contact when you glance down at him through the haze of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you. “Go on, darling,” he says softly, laving his tongue over the marks he’s sucked into your skin, fingers thrusting more insistently as everything in you coils tighter than a spring. “Cum for me, go on-”

You cry out his name as it takes you over, the electric flash of ecstasy that consumes you from the pit of your stomach to the tips of your fingers as Alastor works you through it. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyes from the force of it, a soft throbbing that you know Alastor is experiencing where his digits are still inside the grip of your internal walls. Everything is tingly and fuzzy afterward, as your pulse returns to normal and your breathing slows, aware now of the soft kisses that Alastor is pressing into your collarbone.

He removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to drag his tongue up and down the length of them while you blush. And despite the pleasure he’s already given you, you want more- you grind your hips down to convey the sentiment, the mess of your orgasm still evident and soaking through the front of his trousers where you can feel the hard ridge of his cock. He hisses at the friction, twisting a hand up into your hair while the other grips your hip and pulls you down harder. “You tempt me, my dear,” he says, “but someone is coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” you mutter, continuing to rock your hips in little circles. Even with how sensitive you are, the pressure against your clit feels damningly good, too good to stop or heed his warning. “And if someone comes in, I’ll handle it.”

Alastor laughs out loud. “Oh, you’ll handle it, will you? By all means then, have at it.” He gestures vaguely towards his pelvis, unaware of the trick that you’ve been holding up your sleeve in your recent solo experimentations. You would never get a better opportunity to surprise him, you think, as you rip the belt from his pants and help him shimmy them off, his thick erection beading with fluid at the tip when it’s freed.

You lean back against the couch cushions, pulling him down with you and using a gentle hand to guide him to your entrance. You let out a soft whimper as he pushes into you, breath punching out of you with a gasp when he sinks to the hilt in one swift thrust. You tangle a hand into his hair, gripping the base of one of his antlers and grinning when his hips jerk against you at the action. His eyes are half-lidded and soft as he stares down at you, seeming to have to focus on slowing down when he pulls out and slowly presses back in. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, and your pulse leaps into your throat when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Your mind is flooded with images when he makes contact, emotions that ride through your veins along with the physical pleasure you’re feeling- evidently he’s been watching you the last few weeks, following you when you left the hotel to make sure you weren’t in any danger, sending his shadow to watch you sleep. You can feel the bitterness in your pulse as he watches you interact with the others, only to turn away when you notice him. The vague sadness that night that he had destroyed his room, his bayou, because how could he remain there when there were traces of you everywhere?

You break the connection with a gasp, using your grip on his antler to pull him back to your mouth as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, marks that you can come back to when the need was to great, more tangible proof that this was real, that he wanted you outside your abilities. “Alastor, please,” you beg, letting the fingers not currently brushing the base of his horns to trail down his spine, tracing the vertebrae beneath your touch as he shivers. He shifts his legs, brings himself closer to you, the angle changing and pushing the tip of his cock exactly where you need it.

The door to the library creaks open, and you both freeze.

“Hello?” There’s a hint of pain as Lucifer’s voice echoes in the room, where Alastor has tightened his grip enough to break skin with his claws. His other hand untangles itself from your hair to press against your mouth, silencing your heavy breathing. “Who’s in here?”

The couch you were seated on was high-backed- he wouldn’t be able to see you from the door, but if he entered the room, came around the front, you would be fucked in a far less pleasurable way than you currently were. Alastor’s nostrils flare above you as he hears the soft clacking of the King’s boots as he takes a couple steps in, apparently not able to help himself from bucking his hips forward, his teeth bared in a snarl when he feels your muffled groan against his palm.

More light blooms in the room from the wall sconces- you had been sitting in here with just the fire, and the glare of more lighting makes you squint your eyes, Alastor silhouetted beautifully above you. “I know someone is in here,” Lucifer demands, and you take a deep breath against Alastor’s hand and snap your fingers. “You were all told to-”

“Why, good evening, your Majesty!”

You almost wish you had manifested in Hell like the CEO of that tech company, with some sort of electronics built into your head so you could record the look on Alastor’s face at hearing his own voice respond to Lucifer. Your eyebrows are creased, trying to focus on the figment you’ve conjured to keep the King’s attention away from the couch.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Lucifer says, and you can hear the hint of disdain in his voice- you wonder, not for the first time, what the issue was between these two- some conflict that had started before you were at the Hotel that no one felt necessary to fill you in on. “I thought you were told to keep to your own quarters past eleven.”

You make the thing twirl it’s cane, snapping it back to the ground and inspecting it’s fingernails. “Yes, well, I had some business to attend to. And might I add, sire, you are also out past your imposed bedtime.”

Maybe it was something about using your powers to sass the king of Hell with some false puppet, but Alastor seemed to react well to it- his eyes dark, teeth bared, he plants a foot on the floor to brace himself so the couch doesn’t shift and thrusts into you hard, his hand pressing harder against your mouth when you whine at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. There’s wonder in his expression, something akin to adoration; this was what he wanted from you, you realized, displays of power, shows of your abilities that he could see and benefit from, that showed that he could trust you.

Lucifer scoffs across the room. “This is my house, if you’ve forgotten,” he retorts. “I can go where I please. And I heard you talking to someone!” Rapid footsteps, like he’s coming further into the room, and even as it makes Alastor buck his hips wildly against you, you don’t think he really wants to be caught in such a compromising situation.

You make the figure step forward- if you really concentrate you can almost see through its eyes, a vague image behind your eyelids of Lucifer standing before it with his arms crossed where you’ve blocked him, his gaze frustrated. “I was talking to myself,” you make it say. “I must have intelligent conversation on occasion, you know, and with everyone else in bed and only you left awake, I had to make do.”

Alastor grins above you, pleased with the tone and the words of this replica you’ve created of him; refusing to use his likeness to submit or offer pleasantries to get him out of the room; you were doubling down like Alastor himself would. You can hear the inaccuracies- you’re sure Alastor can, too- but Lucifer appears none the wiser as Alastor begins to fuck you in earnest, the couch thankfully staying still and not squeaking or moving as he holds his hand over your mouth harder and leans down to nibble at your collar.

“Of all the disrespectful-”

“Careful now, your Majesty,” it says, and you make shadows appear to crawl across the floor towards him, tendrils approaching the couch as well. When Alastor notices them he groans into your skin, and through the copy’s eyes you see Lucifer snap his head in the direction of the sound. “You wouldn’t want Charlie to catch us in a disagreement, would you?” And thank whatever beings heard prayers down here, Lucifer deflates- you had made a gamble with that, assuming that Charlie had spoken with her father about getting along with her hotelier, but knowing the princess the way that you did you figured there was no way that she would allow them to be at each other’s throats like they were. You let the false shadows sink back, and have your illusion give him a cheeky little wave. “There’s a good King. Now, may I get back to my business?” With the last word, Alastor stills, waiting for a confirmation or denial, possibly preparing to phase the two of you out of the room if Lucifer came further into the room-

“Do whatever you want,” Lucifer grumbles, “Charlie and that little coordinator need to keep a closer fucking eye on you, but I can’t be bothered.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to our event planner,” you make it say, and Alastor makes another soft noise into your throat against where your pulse beats steadily, replicated in the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his still hard length. The interruption doesn’t seem to have doused your arousal, nor Alastor’s- the possibility of being caught like this makes your blood boil in the most pleasant way, Alastor’s cock still filling you perfectly even as he’s stopped actually fucking you for the time being. “I’ll bid you a good night, sire; I still have matters that need tending to, free of distractions.” You see Lucifer cast a middle finger back at the image of Alastor as it speaks, and then mercifully he’s storming out, a swirling golden portal opening for him to step through and then closing with a loud crack.

In time with the noise of the portal slamming closed, Alastor pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again- his hand is removed from your mouth with your gasp, and he moves it to your hip to pull you more forcefully into his thrusts. “You,” he growls against your jawline, “are perfect.” He kisses you, licking into your mouth and stealing the air from your lungs as it’s punched from you with every rock of his pelvis. “The audacity to pull such a stunt- the control you maintained over the illusion was breathtaking, I don’t- fuck,” he concludes eloquently, fingers coming between your bodies to rub at your clit again as he races towards completion. It reignites the fire in your abdomen, heat flashing through your body like a strike of lightning that burns across your skin, making you cling to him tighter. He looks down at you with dark, unfathomable eyes while he fucks you, his pace growing uneven and broken as he approaches his end. “Please, darling,” he whispers against your lips, “cum for me, I need-”

The plea is what breaks you, every muscle in your body tensing and releasing as the orgasm slams into you like a car into a brick wall- messy, sudden, destructive. You don’t leave your own mind this time, your consciousness firmly rooted in reality as you watch Alastor lose his composure, his eyes fluttering closed with a gasp of your name while he spills into the slick heat of your cunt, his hips still rocking as if he means to fuck his release as far into you as he can. You shiver with the aftershocks, Alastor still maintaining a gentle swiping across your clit, and you can feel the way your walls twitch around the length of his cock while he stays buried in you to the hilt.

“No mind traveling today, I see,” he asks quietly, another kiss pressed softly to your forehead, and while no mental images come forth you can feel what he’s feeling now; the lingering ache of pleasure, the pride he still feels at your show of your new ability, an overall sense of happiness that you wouldn’t expect to be able to bring Alastor. He had put aside his discomfort to have an honest, responsible conversation with you to fix what you had both thought might be irreparably broken, and you were thankful.

You hum against his throat. “I’m content where I am,” you tell him, and the vibration of his laughter on your lips is perfection.

From the previous tags list: @aconstructofamind @littlebluefishtail @spottypug @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff @minamilinaqueen

if any of you would like to be removed for any reason, please let me know! <3

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #ily frau <3 #x reader #alastor the radio demon #dream demon

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 1 month ago

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You know the one point above all others that leaves me convinced Bad Batch season 3 underwent some massive rewrites?

The time skip in episode 1.

Now, the time skip could have worked fine if there had been any attempt later in the season to meaningfully follow up on the vital conversations that apparently took place during said time skip. But that's not what happened.

And I have too much confidence in the writers' vision/abilities to believe they originally intended to use the time skip the way it ended up being used: to completely gloss over the aftermath of Tech's fall to the point that the audience is left wondering - maybe Tech's family/friends have already processed it and moved on? Or maybe they haven't?? Who knows! Let's leave it super vague all season long and have the audience interpret it as they will! Pick your preferred grieving method and tell yourself that's what all these characters did during the time lapse, or if that doesn't work for you then just "something something stoic soldiers."

To give a clear example of what the writers are capable of: Mayday has the distinction of being recognized as THE tipping point to Crosshair finally turning on the Empire and later is given a satisfying, if heartwrenching, callback scene that decisively provides closure for his loss. Remember, Mayday is a character in ONE episode. Just ONE. In the grand scheme of the show, he probably qualifies as a tertiary character. Crosshair knows him for, what, 2 days at most? And yet Mayday is still definitively recognized as a key influential figure in Crosshair's life.

I love Mayday. He deserves all the recognition and more. I bring all this up simply to compare to how the show handles Tech's death, especially for Crosshair.

Tech is Crosshair's brother, was raised with him from birth and lived and worked with him day in and day out for over a decade, and for years they were in life-and-death situations together. Unlike with Mayday, Crosshair wasn't there when Tech died - died on a mission he had pushed for to save Crosshair from consequences of his own choices. Not only was Crosshair not there for Tech in his final moments, but the last time he saw Tech, Crosshair was arguing with him along with the rest of his brothers. Vitally important as Mayday is to Crosshair, Tech is even more so (or should be). Given all this, I'm supposed to believe the writers' grand plan all along was to skip over the critical moment where Crosshair finds out about Tech, spend the rest of the season ignoring all other opportunities to address it, and throw in one line during the finale ("Clone Force 99 died with Tech") that somehow manages to simultaneously deprive us of any semblance of catharsis for Crosshair AND completely miss the point of why Tech had sacrificed himself in the first place??

Nope. I don't believe it. There were forced rewrites on a time crunch. I REFUSE to believe the writers responsible for the near-perfection that is Bad Batch seasons 1-2 would, on their own, so thoroughly botch something as crucial to the show as Crosshair dealing with Tech's (supposed) death. There had to have been some kind of outside interference.

(I am clinging to the theory that the rewrites were part of a bigger plan to save some plot points for continuation in another project; but the point still stands that there had to have been significant rewrites in the first place.)

And since there would have been little to no reason to take out scenes with proper closure for Tech's fall during the rewrites if the original intention was indeed for Tech to be dead, I conclude yet again that Tech isn't actually dead.

I will say this for the time skip: it is what first pushed me into writing Bad Batch fanfiction. So there's that.

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb critical #i admire the creatives' abilities too much to think they originally planned on plot points falling apart the way they did in season 3 #in other news #tech lives #because it's the only thing that makes sense #not to mention makes the story end in a satisfying way #the show didn't provide satisfying closure on this so tech's obviously not dead #bring tech back #it's been a few days therefore it's time for another tech lives post

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akajustmerry · 1 year ago

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Hey can u tell me wat race were the thg characters in the books? Was Katniss gale peeta finnick etc not white?

so this is kind of difficult to answer because in the world of the novels, The Dark Times™ whatever they really were clearly were so destructive to the fabric of society that the USA ceased to be what we know it as.

The process not only changed the land itself and how it was governed, but the language used to do that (states become districts, America becomes Panem, etc.). The fascistic government of the Capitol, when you read the books, clearly controls language as much as any other resource. Both Katniss and Snow (the only 2 pov characters in the novels) refer to words that have been forbidden and forgotten. Throughout the books you also come across words that are clearly mutated versions of known words "morphling" is one, which is the word used for what we call morphine.

I say all that to say that the people in the world of these novels, while they still obviously use English, they don't have the same concepts we do now because they've been eroded along with the language itself.

One of the crucial steps to control and oppress a population is deprive them of the ability to conceptualise and communicate that oppression. This is even happening right now wihh right wing governments around the world attempting to outlaw education and content on sexuality, indigenous histories, etc.

I say all this to say that the characters we read the POVs from in the thg novels do not and probably cannot define race in the way that we do now because doing so has been lost and repressed.

BUT!!!! that's not to say that racism does not exist, even though the language to define race is absent. Katniss is described as dark olive skinned, with dark eyes and dark hair. so is gale. I can't direct quote it, but Katniss talks in the early chapters of book 1 about how she is treated differently to her mum and sister who are fair and blonde. specifically, it says people do not warm to her as quickly like they do her sister and mum. Katniss also comments that the Capitol stylists make a mockery of her thick body hair. It's also worth noting she's among the poorest of district 12, living in the Seam. Not for nothing but Katniss also talks about how her father was also dark skinned and knew a lot about native plants.

These things on their own probably wouldn't necessarily point to Katniss being a person of colour, but together they paint a pretty clear picture of someone who experiences racism both systemically and personally even if she can't conceptualise it as that. Due to the fact Katniss' knowledge of plants and animals and carving weapons was passed down to her from her father, many people headcanon her as Indigenous, same for Gale.

As for Finnick? Jury's out. When I read catching fire well before the films came out I thought Finnick was maybe not white because he was described as very tanned and golden and in my experience white people just don't tan that way.

But Suzzanne Collins had very clear subtextual racial commentary in the books. Especially in the demographics of the districts. District 11 is predominantly Black (Katniss describes every D11 person as having typically Black features) and they're the agriculture district, described as the one that does the most physical labour. It's also the first district in the novel main story to do an uprising. And if you think a little bit about that and what Suzzanne Collins was saying with that particular subtext it's a very obvious racial commentary on the legacy of slavery and antiblackness.

Peeta was definitely white. Not only is he described that way physically. But his family is one of the wealthiest in D12 which means they had intergenerational wealth of some kind which it's clear Katniss and Gale did not.

Suzanne Collins is white and I think she did what the best white authors do when writing about race which is to acknowledge it and be realistic without overstepping or pretending to know. I'll forever hate the movies for eliminating that subtext.

#the hunger games

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glassartpeasants · 8 months ago

Text

Run Rabbit Run .08

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, reader having a crisis, pregnancy, angst, probably slight cringe cause i've been sleep deprived and think everything good idea then, and most likely other shit i can't think of atm

A/N: apparently my body can't decide whether to write Kid or Kidd cause i wrote Kidd half way through this after spelling it 'Kid' in the last two fic's. So please bare with my stupidity

music playlist

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11

~~~

Even though you’ve been counting down the months to finally reach Sabaody, a part of you yearned for just a few more weeks with G-5. Now, with only three more days till you dock at the archipelago, the excitement is palpable. Time seemed to have a mind of its own, neither hastening nor slowing. They say time flies when you're having fun, and indeed it did. Four months dwindled to three, then two, and before you knew it, you were down to mere days.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone, to reveal the person you’ve become during the two-year separation. The anticipation to demonstrate your newfound devil fruit powers and everything Smoker and G-5 have instilled in you. To prove that you've earned the title of a Straw Hat. That even in the face of pregnancy, you stand strong, capable of protecting yourself and your friends. You’ve toiled day and night to hone your abilities and devil fruit powers, all while nurturing the life growing within you.

Tashigi helped you in buying things that’d make your life a bit easier. Pregnancy pillows, maternity clothes, vitamins to keep yourself healthy, and everything in between. She even convinced you to write a journal for every day of your pregnancy. It did help a lot more than you thought it would. You wrote what you wouldn’t tell anyone else and how you truly felt about your situation that day. Some good and some bad.

A wave of emotions would often overwhelm you when something triggered memories of your time with Kidd. The echo of people calling your name, the rumble of thunder, all reminiscent of your time spent in the shadows. While you knew you’d never be the same person you were before Kidd, you have strived to heal from all the things that have transpired.

It wasn’t working very well, though.

Looking at any reflective surface has your heart shattering when your eyes land on the visible scars on your body. Trying to picture yourself without the scars was impossible as you struggled not to imagine Kidd in the image as well. It was almost easier to pretend you were born with your scars rather than think about the one that gave them to you. Even in everyday life, he'd pop into your head when you weren’t thinking about him. Closing your eyes, you still see his amber eyes staring right back at you.

Being alone with your thoughts always makes things difficult. If it were too quiet, you’d hear his voice whispering in your ear. Feeling his fingers touching your skin when you wore short-sleeved shirts was also common. Times when you were so close to slumber, you’d start to smell his presence. The only thing that seems to calm you down now is a tune your mother used to sing to you.

It had been sealed away in your memories for years, and now you managed to remember the words and tune after having a dream about her singing it to you. You watched her rock yourself as she sang the little song before tucking you in. Her face was a blur, but you could still hear her. At least you could still remember her voice. Yet when she stopped singing, you immediately woke up.

Since then, you’ve been subconsciously humming it when working around the ship. You remember getting embarrassed when Tashigi asked you what you were singing. When you told her that it was something your mother sang to you when you were a baby, she got stars in her eyes.

“You should sing to them! I heard it’s extremely beneficial to the baby!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your more invested in this pregnancy than I am, and I'm the one carrying the baby.”

“I heard it’s great for bonding and-” She stopped herself before she could finish. You knew what she was trying to say and that there was no ill will behind it.

“It’s okay. I know you meant well. Maybe if the situation were different, I’d be more excited. But I don’t want to get too close to them since I’m putting them up for adoption.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that. I guess I just got excited for something other than listening to men yelling and fighting.”

“No, I promise it’s okay! Things happen. You meant well, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the setting sun. The beautiful colors you memorize as you imagine sailing off with the Straw Hats. Happy laughter as you’d hear them tell their stories of their adventures from the two years you’ve been separated. You couldn’t wait to hear Luffy’s infectious laughter or see Robin's calming smile. Only three more days until you make it to Sabaody then-...

…What then?

You’d still be pregnant, on the run, and scared that any second Kidd’s going to show up and whisk you away. Even after you put up the baby for adoption, your body would still look pregnant for a while before going back to normal. Your body would wonder where the baby had gone and when it’d come back. How were you supposed to live life normally after this? Knowing that you have a baby out there that you’ll never get to see grow up. Always worry if they're safe and scared that Kidd might find them and use them as leverage to make you come back.

But at the same time, you couldn’t take them with you. The sea is no place to raise a child, let alone a baby. They could fall overboard, get kidnapped by Marines or rival pirate groups, hell, they could get ill at sea, and you wouldn’t have the medicine to make them better!

Anyway, you looked at it, it felt like nothing was the right choice. The negatives outweighed the positives in your head. It’s possible that everything you’ve experienced has made you an internal pessimist. That, or maybe you were just thinking logically. Either or, it still sucked.

“What are you thinking about?” Tashigi’s voice pulled you from your negative thoughts as she stood beside you.

“Everything and nothing at all. Three days, and then we’ll be enemies. Feels weird knowing that.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird not having you around. I’m gonna be stuck as the only girl once again.” You laugh a bit at her admission.

“If only we’d be able to call one another. But it’s too much of a risk in case any higher-ups were to find out.” Both of you sigh before turning to each other.

“Why do you have to be a pirate?”

“Why do you have to be a Marine?” The two of you laugh as you see the stars start to appear in the night sky.

“The stars are pretty, huh? Maybe we can find constellations if we look hard enough.” You can see Tashigi thinking out of the corner of your eye before her head perks up.

“What if we take pictures? Like a group picture? We’d be able to remember each other even if we can’t talk.”

“You're right! We can do it tomorrow morning! I heard it’s supposed to be sunny and clear!”

“Perfect! We can go around telling the other Marines about it, and they’ll all agree. Vice Admiral Smoker, we might have to convince or drag.”

“I think it’ll be worth the extra chores.”

~~~

As you lay in your bed once more, you look out over the multiple sleeping marines. In a few days' time, you’ll never see them again. If you do, then you’d have to fight them. Once you get back to the Straw Hats, you’ll undoubtedly have a bounty from the government. Then you’ll genuinely be ‘enemies,’ but the thought of hurting any of them made you want to cry. How could you hurt those who took you in, no matter who you were? They risked getting in trouble and put themselves in danger just for you.

Maybe if your forced to fight them, you could just run away? Usopp does it a lot, so why couldn’t you?

You move slightly to get more comfy, only to hear a ‘thud’ come from the side of your bed. Gently moving to the best of your pregnant abilities, you manage to see a particular journal that you haven’t read since the first week you met the G-5.

Heat’s journal.

Biting your lip, you mentally fight to figure out whether you should read it or not. After taking months to try and process Heat’s internal thoughts and the truth about your home, perhaps you were ready to read the rest of it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you manage to grab the book by the tips of your fingers. You bring it up just enough for your other hand to hold it. A slight pain rummages through your body as you try to bring it up. Thankfully, you manage to pull it up just enough to grab it with your other hand. Snuggling into the bed more, you use the moon as a light source to read the book.

Something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly, but whatever it was, put (Y/N) in the hospital on the island we’re currently docked at. No one but Killer and Kidd himself were allowed to see her. Doctors must have been in and out of that room when (Y/N) first entered.

I can’t see (Y/N) trying to kill herself. Not with the small determination I can still see in her eyes. It had to be something involving Kidd. If Kidd can put a hot metal branding on her, then I don’t think he’d be above doing something to land her in the hospital.

I’ve talked to Wire about his thoughts on what could have happened. He told me that while he saw nothing, he heard multiple thuds and yelling coming from beneath the deck. Immediately upon hearing that, a sour taste filled my mouth. I have to go down and see for myself the room Kidd has been keeping (Y/N) in. There has to be something down there that could tell me something.

Of course, Kidd didn’t want his crew to know he almost killed you. Typical. What did Heat say when he saw you come back from the hospital? When what was the starting time when you forgot your memories. Gently skimming through the pages, you found the entry you were looking for.

I don’t think my eyes have ever widened as much as they did when I saw Kidd and (Y/N) holding hands. There was a bright smile on (Y/N)’s face when she finally came aboard the deck. Her legs are wobbly, and it looks like she’s learning how to walk again. She had bandages covering her head. Behind her and Kid was a doctor along with Killer.

Obviously, somethings not right. (Y/N) or Kidd must have hit her head so hard that a real doctor is needed. While I know it’s a very cliche scenario, I think that she must have hit her head so hard that her memory fogged. And if that’s so, what lies had Kidd told her already? Maybe if I'm able to get the doctor alone, I can get some information.

So Heat saw you the day you returned to the Victoria Punk after the incident? You were shocked that Kidd didn’t bring you back to the ship during the night. But thankfully, he was too stupid, and it allowed Heat to see the first part of the aftermath in real-time.

You don’t remember the first week or two when you got back to the Victoria. Not the doctors or leaving the hospital. It was probably for the best, though. You don’t need any more trauma than you already have.

“What were his thoughts during those five months?” Looking back at the marines to ensure they were sleeping, you flip through the pages again.

Caught (Y/N) staring out to sea earlier before the night entirely took over. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, honestly. I felt like I was going insane trying to figure out how or if I should help her now. She looks so happy now, but at the same time, her happiness is based on lies and blood.

Why did this have to happen? What sins did (Y/N) do in a past life that made this her reality? One minute, she was living her life, then the next, she’s stuck in a storage room on a pirate ship. I try not to think how alone she must have felt before this incident. Always being stuck in the dark and only seeing the same people over and over again. Me talking to her can only do so much. It won’t bring back her parents or friends. Nor will it bring back her home.

It still eats me knowing that I’m the reason this woman has no one left. No friends or family. Well, there’s those Straw Hats she’s told me about.

I remember them from Sabaody. Their captain was a strange one, but it did seem like he cared for his crew. If he’s willing to risk his life by storming Impel Down and Navy headquarters just to save his brother, then I think if there is any place or pirate crew for her to be in, it’d be the Straw Hats.

Maybe if I mention Saboady, it’ll spark something and clear the fog that’s invaded her mind.

"If only you knew Heat. It was the thing that made me realize somethings not right.” For a Kidd Pirate, he truly was a fallen angel in disguise. While you’ll never forgive him for what he did to your home, he proved that almost everyone deserves a second chance.

Holy shit. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t run as quickly and quietly as I could in forever. Not to mention the underlying threat of getting caught giving (Y/N) a devil fruit.

Finding the damn thing was entirely on accident but a pain in the ass to bring on the ship without anyone noticing. Even stealing the fruit was a feat in itself. I don’t know how that fisherman found it or what he was planning on doing with it, but in the end, it’s going to a better cause.

I managed to have (Y/N) eat it by luring her outside the dining hall earlier. When I watched her eat it all, it made a slight ease wash over me. At least now, she’d have a bit more of a fighting chance against Kidd if he did anything.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell her everything right then and there, but I was already pushing it by being so close to everyone, especially with Killer being somewhere on deck. I didn’t want to cause a scene and have Kidd freak out or anything. The longer he’s in the dark, the safer it is for (Y/N) and myself.

Honestly, I thought Killer would have knocked some sense into Kidd when he found out about (Y/N). I was obviously very wrong.

“If anything, he was just as insane as Kidd. Fueling his crazed thoughts and obsession. I still remember that dumb conversation I heard between him and Kidd about boarding up the storage room.” It pissed you off more that if it weren’t for Killer’s mask, you probably would have put two and two together quicker. Facial expressions are everything.

I caught (Y/N) staring at the sky again. Thankfully, Killer and Wire were on the opposite side of the ship, so I was finally able to talk to (Y/N) alone. She didn’t know what I made her eat initially, which shocked me. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to trigger it yet.

We both found out pretty quickly what her devil fruit power was, though.

I was trying to tell her that everything she knew about Kidd was a lie. That her life was a lie. I wanted to be more collected and calm about it, but how do you carefully say something like that? It was hard seeing her eyes flash all her emotions, but it soon turned to pain when a harsh shock hit my hands. It felt like a burning hot pole went straight through my hands.

It hurt like a bitch, but the pain subsided when I saw her looking at her hands. When I also looked at them, I saw electricity slither across her hands. I watched her put her hands together and was speechless when a ball of pure electricity formed. She started panicking when the ball was getting too big for her to control and starting to hurt her. I told her to throw it out to sea, and when she did, I felt like I was watching the moon shrink. It was so bright and slightly calming. The farther it went, the more at ease I felt. (Y/N) had a chance. She had a chance to defend herself and run away.

And I’ll be there to make sure she’s safe.

Tears fall profusely down your face, reading the last line. How can the world be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help, and yet he lost his life.

You go to read the next page only to see it’s blank. Feeling your throat dry, you start skimming through the rest of the pages, hoping to see more writing, yet there is nothing. It felt like your heart had been ripped directly from your chest. That was the last thing Heat has ever written, and it just had to be the most heartbreaking thing to read.

Curling up as best you can, considering your belly, you hold Heat’s journal close to your chest. You try your best not to sob as you don’t want to wake up the rest of the Marines sleeping next to you. Between sniffles and the slight shaking as you try to control your breathing, you whisper to yourself in hopes that wherever Heat is, he’ll hear you.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Another island was reduced to ashes after falling victim to Eustass Kidd’s wraith. A once lush and thriving island is now in flames and crumbling as the ruthless pirate searched tirelessly for a certain someone last seen there.

“God fucking damnit! When I get my hands on whatever Marines are holding her, I’m going to kill every single one of them! They’ll wish they never got involved when I break each of their bones!” Kidd’s voice boomed across the town as his amber eyes scanned everywhere.

Where are you?! Why aren’t you here?!

“Kid.” Killer’s voice breaks through the brute's rage, making him turn his head.

“What Killer?!”

“We’ve searched everywhere, and there's no sign of her. It’s not like we can ask anyone either since everyone has evacuated before we arrived.”

Ever since the incident on Halyard Island, as soon as your location was revealed in the paper, people would evacuate their homes to try to save their families and avoid the unstable tornado of destruction that was Eustass Kidd.

Some people stayed because it’d been their home since birth, and they’d rather die than leave it defenseless. There have been rebellions to try to stop Kidd, but they were always snuffed out the moment Kidd saw them. The same could be said for any Marines that were sent to stop him. Getting sent on a mission to any island that you had been spotted at was a death wish. Sometimes, the Marines were too late, and Kidd had already destroyed the island. But when Kidd would see them, he wouldn’t let any Marines leave until he talked to each and every single one of them. And since none of them had you, none of them would leave the island alive.

Your name had become a jinx to any Marine that spoke it. Speaking your name would always have the Marine that spoke it sent out on the next mission to stop Kid from destroying yet another island just to find you. And since none of them had you, they’d never come back alive to say what they’ve experienced.

After being the ‘cause’ of death for so many Marines, some rookies have given you the nickname ‘Devil’s Darling.’ It was a joke at first, but as the death toll rose and how Kidd’s name got more infamous, more and more people adopted it. And with a nickname like that, more people have come to hate you.

While you haven’t done anything, the fact is that if it weren’t for you escaping, no one would have gotten hurt. If only you had bit the bullet, no one would have lost their lives. Many victims of Kidd’s rage blame you for it. Anger and fear take over the hearts of many, and to the civilians of the New World, you’ve become as feared and hated as the man hunting you down.

The government had become more conflicted on where to stand with you. While you were technically innocent, the people have been nagging them to put an official bounty on your head. If they did, you’d only be wanted alive. The power they could hold if they managed to capture you. You could be the key to finally catching and imprisoning Eustass Kidd.

And Kidd knew all of this.

He knew the hatred the people had started to hold for you. How they’d give you to him if they managed to recognize and grab you before you left the island. In a way, he had the whole New World in his hand. Their hatred and fear was and will be the town’s own undoing.

The only people stopping him were fucking journalists who don’t say or do a thing when they see you. They are so desperate for a story and to lead him on that they don’t care about how they’ve helped in the destruction.

“Of course, she isn’t here. Fucking hate those journalists and Marines.” Kidd kicked a smoldering piece of wood in anger. Ashes fly to the sky as it did nothing to soothe his rage.

They don’t understand that he needs you. He dreams of you every night. Dreams of you laying next to him and kissing his face. Some where you were holding his child, soothing them to sleep. Humming a small tune before noticing him and smiling. You’d say something to him, but he could never remember what it was when he woke up.

And while there were dreams, nightmares followed suit. Nightmares of you falling into the ocean and sinking to the bottom with your hand outstretched for Kidd to grab and save you. Or the times when you’d be running from Marines to him only for you to get shot as soon as he had you in your arms. The nightmares plagued him much more than he dreamt of you. He’s always had nightmares when you weren’t lying next to him. Ever since the first night you’ve slept with him in his bed, he’s never been able to sleep alone without waking up sometimes during the night. The warmth your body gave him while you slept, go thim addicted.

Those first few months you left and joined those damn Straw Hats, the same nightmare happened every night. It replayed the scene of you sailing away from him over and over again. No matter what, those months without you behind closed doors were pure hell for Kidd. You were just gone from his life after being by his side for a year and a half. He’d never get to kiss you or hold you close again.

But just as Killer tried to get Kidd over you, he saw you.

He was fighting a pacifista next to that dweeb Trafalgar Law when he turned his head, and there you were. You were running as fast as you could, and there he saw you. What you were running from, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that you were alone. No Straw Hats or Marines to take you away now. You were his for the taking once more, and this time, he’d make sure you knew it-

“Earth to Kidd!” Blinking a few times, Kidd’s pulled from his memories by Killer snapping his fingers in his face.

“I was thinking! What is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern? How each island she’s at, she gets closer and closer to the Navy Headquarters?” A pit filled Kidd’s stomach hearing Killer’s words.

“What are you saying, Killer? Spill it!”

“What if their taking her to the safety of Navy Headquarters? Or worse, Impel Down?” Kidd grits his teeth at the thought. No way in hell was he gonna let those fuckers take you.

“Any Marine ship we see, attack. Don’t care if they're not in our course. No Marine ship will get past the Victoria. Search every part of the Marine ship, and if she isn’t there, sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.”

“And the Marines on it?”

“Kill them all.”

~~~

“You wanted to see me, Vice Admiral? If it’s about the pictures we did yesterday, I have some here if you want to choose one.-”

“Sit. We need to talk.” Your heart stopped for a second, but you managed to snap back and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The way he sat in his chair behind the desk made you bite the inside of your cheek. When Tashigi told you that he wanted to see you, you were nervous. She said that while she didn’t know why he wanted to, you had no need to be scared.

Obviously, she was wrong.

“O-Oh? What about?” You can feel your palms sweat as the room seems to heat up.

“The government has finally put up a bounty for you.” Hearing those words come from Smoker's mouth made time stop as thousands of scenarios played through your head. Would he turn you in?

“But I haven’t done anything! Why do I have a bounty?!”

“You haven’t done anything. But Kidd has.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He’s been destroying islands, villages, and Marine ships nonstop. Anything in his path has become a victim of his rage. According to headquarters, we’ve lost a lot of good men to him. Rookies, Vice Admirals, and Admirals even have been killed. His bounty has tripled in the last six months. Wouldn’t shock me if it raises the next time the new bounty posters come up.” You were speechless. How many people have been hurt or killed because of you? So many deaths for simply living. This has to be a nightmare.

“I don’t understand. Why do I have a bounty for things he’s done? I’m not out here hurting people!” Smoker sighed before running a hand through his hair.

“They want to use you to lure Kidd so they can capture him. That and many people of the New World are treating you as much of a threat as kid himself is.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone! I hate Kidd as much as they do, so why do they hate me?...”

“Fear. Kidd’s insanity has caused fear to cover the entire New World. Seeing your name and last known location in the paper is a death wish for the island you were last seen at. I don’t know how these damn journalists keep spotting you no matter what disguise we put you in.”

“It’s like they’re actively looking for me. Why are they so determined to find me? People have been hurt, yet they don’t care!” Guilt starts to eat at you as the thought of countless people getting hurt because of your problems eats at your heart.

“First Heat…now this? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?” You whisper to yourself as you lay your hands on your thighs before gripping your pants tightly. Tears start to whelm in your eyes as you bite your lip. The images of people's faces you’ve never seen before start to pop up in your mind as if to make you suffer more. The survivor's guilt already consumed you after Heat’s death, but now, with having so much more ‘blood’ on your hands, the pain was unbearable.

“Heat? Where have I heard that name before?”

“He was a crewmate on Kidd’s ship. He’s…no longer with us.”

“A Marine kill him? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Kidd Pirates getting sent to Impel Down.”

“No. Kidd did.” Even though you spoke between sobs, SMoker still managed to catch your words. He was stunned to hear such a thing. Killing his own crew? If he can do that without remorse, what else is he willing to do?

“He helped me escape the first time I was stuck with Kidd. He undid the chain that was connected to a collar Kidd had me wear and told me to run. When he saw that I had gotten captured again, he tried to help me again, but…”

“But?”

You ran as fast as you could around teh deck to try and find Heat and Kidd. In the dark, the whole boat felt like a maze. Each passing second was an eternity. How can you find them in time?

“Your fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t notice how you're trying to play hero! At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you let her go the first time. But now, when everything’s good, you're trying to ruin it!” Kidd’s voice rang in your left ear, making you stop in your tracks.

“What are you talking about Kidd? Are you drunk or something?”

“Don’t play dumb! You know damn well what I’m talking about! Your telling (Y/N) shit she doesn’t need to remember! Telling her things that’ll ruin what I’ve worked so hard for! She’s happy, and you want her to be sad?!”

“That’s not happiness, Kidd! Her ‘happiness’ is based on lies! I know I’m not the greatest person. I have skeletons in my closet, but what you're doing is insane!” Hearing Heat bite back makes you dash towards the two voices.

Just then, a few loud thumps accompanied by a cough echoed across the deck. A bang was soon heard right after, and it only made you run faster. When you finally made it to the source, your horrified to see Kidd with his back facing you and a bloody, jagged knife in his hand. In front of him, you see Heat on the deck with his back leaning against the railing. Red starts to seep through his clothes, as you can hear his breathing become erratic. You watched him cough harshly and see droplets of blood shooting out from his mouth.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, Heat. I won’t let you ruin this for me. If only you had minded your business, then none of this would have to happen.” Heat gives Kidd a strong glare before laughing at him. His teeth covered in blood as he smiled at Kidd.

“She’ll find out. It may not be by me, but your house of cards is crumbling, Kidd. She’s gonna find out whether you like it or not.” You can hear Kidd crack his neck at Heat’s words.

“Not to mention, she and the rest of the crew are gonna wonder what’s happened to me. How are you gonna explain that?”

“I can just say you fell overboard. Since your a devil fruit user, you’ll sink to the bottom. The crew will believe it, and so will (Y/N).”

“Doubt it. She’s not stupid, Kidd. She’s gonna remember everything that’s happened. Her home, friends, family, and everything you’ve done to her, she’s gonna remember. And when she does, I’ll be laughing in hell.” You watch Kidd charge at Heat with the knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“No!” Running from your hiding spot, you jump in front of Heat. Despite the fear that coursed through you, you spread your arms out to a T so you can protect him from your knife-wielding lover. Your arrival brought silence among the three of you.

“(Y/N)...” Glancing back to Heat, you see the shock in his eyes. Your heart bleeds as Heats breath becomes more ragged with each second that passes.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?! You need to get away from him! He’s working for the Marines! He’s a traitor!” Biting your lip between your teeth, you try not to cry as your lover lies directly in your face so casually.

A strong, familiar tingling feeling circulated through your arms and legs as you stood in front of Heat. Buzzing rings in your ears as the feeling grows stronger as you anticipate Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you! He’s going to hurt you, it’s not safe next to him.” Looking into Kidd’s eyes, you stand yoru ground and still stand in his path. You can feel your heart race as he reaches out to you. The feeling of his fingertips from his real arm just barely touching your wrist before a loud ZAP could be heard echoing across the Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Kid recoils his hand back and tries brushing it against his red feathered coat. The buzzing of the zap still ringing in your ears as you quickly turn your attention to Heat. You're quick to start inspecting him for more wounds but can only see one. A stab wound dangerously close to the heart but at a perfect position for it to be in the lungs. While Kidd missed the heart, he managed to puncture a lung which could be just as fatal. It also explains the coughing up of blood.

“Heat! Hang on! Everything will be okay! Just give me a second!-”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers?...” You stutter as you try to figure out a lie to say. Yet, you watch Heat give Kidd a bloody smirk. From that, it didn’t take long for Kidd to put two and two together.

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!” Your heart almost stops completely as you see Kidd stomping towards the two of you. The way his face looked so sinister made it feel like you were living another nightmare.

Quick to jump to your feet again, you place yourself between Heat and Kidd. The buzzing continued, and you watched as electricity slithers around your arms and legs, helping you give off a threatening aura.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Kidd!” Despite the electricity covering you, Kidd still reaches out. Just as you watch him reach for your arm, he changes direction and grabs your hair. With a harsh tug, Kidd throws you behind him. Your body hits against the hard wooden deck with a ‘thunk.’

You can feel the air being knocked out of your lungs as tears prickle your eyes. As you struggle to get over the pounding in your head and the ache in your body, you hear Heat cough harshly again. When you open your eyes to look at the two men, your eyes widen in horror as you watch Kidd hold Heat up by the throat. Lifting him to his feet, you see Heat struggle to get Kidd’s metal hand off his throat.

“Enjoy the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings that’ll feast on your corpse, will ya?” Jumping to your feet despite still being dizzy, you dash towards Kidd and Heat. But just as you took three steps in, you watched as Kidd threw Heat against the railing, making him tumble over it and fall off the boat.

Running to the railing and praying that he’s simply hanging on, your hopes were crushed as soon as you heard the heartbreaking sound of water splashing. Leaning over the edge to see if you could throw him a rope, you only had time to see bubbles rising to the water's surface before Kidd grabbed you by the hair and began to drag you away.

“Kidd found out about it. My devil fruit powers wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t for Heat. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long I would have been stuck with Kidd and his web of lies.”

“How long has it been since his death?” While he could see that this was obviously a sensitive topic for you, perhaps if you spoke about it, it might loosen whatever burden his death has caused.

“A week had passed after his death when you guys found me. So, as long as I’ve been here plus a week.” Letting out a hum, Smoker continued to listen.

“It’s all my fault…If only I had been more careful then maybe he’d still be here. He’d still be alive instead of at the bottom of the sea.”

“I watched Kidd kill him. I saw Kidd kill the only friend I had and there was nothing I could do about it!”

‘That explains a lot. There’s a lot more layers of trauma she hasn’t told me or Tashigi about. If there's something that traumatic she’s keeping to herself, what else could be going on inside that she’s not talking about?’

“There are times when I feel like he’s haunting me. I see him sometimes in my nightmares. Or times when I’m leaning against the railing and go to look down at the sea only to see Heat standing beside me. But when I go to check if he’s really there, it’s always an empty space. I’ve caught glimpses of him staring at me through the crowd. People walk back and forth and I see him staring at me. But then somebody walks in front of him, and then he’s gone!” Smoker watches as your body shakes and tears begin pouring down your face. You grip your uniform pants even harder as you try to stabilize yourself as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Every time I see him, I don’t see the Heat I know. I see him as a corpse. No matter what he’s always just staring at me with lifeless eyes. It always looks like he’s…”

“At the bottom of the sea?”

“Yeah. Down there.” A minute os silence passes before SMoker speaks.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for his death. From how much you’ve told me, it sounds like he knew the risks that came with trying to set you free. That he’d be putting his own life in danger to help yours. Do you think he’d want you to feel guilty for a sacrifice he was willing to make?”

“No.”

“Then don’t blame yourself for something that someone did of their own free will.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” While Smoker knew a single sentence wouldn’t fix all the trauma Heat’s death had obviously caused, he supposed it was better to get it off your chest. With Heat’s death, along with the people Kidd’s hurt in your name lingering in your mind, he can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you.

~~~

Today’s the day. According to Tashigi, you guys should be at Sabaody before 3 pm. After months of training and pregnancy, along with your time with Kidd, you’ll finally be able to return to the Straw Hats.

It feels unreal. Almost as if it’s a dream. Yet, the dangers of Sabaody didn’t slip your mind. Bounty hunters, potential civilians willing to hunt you down, and the navy waiting to use you as bait. All odds were against you.

You did know the sunny was docked at tree 41, so maybe you could have G-5 bring you close but not too close to the sunny? The closer you are to it, the safer it’ll be for you. Well, you and the baby.

Not a second goes by where it’s not on your mind. Any time you move, you have to be cautious you don’t hit your tummy on anything. Eating foods became a test as foods you used to love, you now despise. Now, you're studying foods that are healthy for the baby and what’s not. Anything an over-paranoid pregnant woman does, you did. Even though you're gonna give up the baby for adoption when the time comes, you are gonna make sure the baby is healthy.

There was a nagging feeling that ate at you whenever you were alone. Sometimes, you could feel the baby kick whenever you tapped your belly purposefully or on accident. It was as if they were responding to you. If they could feel the vibrations from a simple tap, could they also hear you talk about not wanting them? Even if six months old, what if? You knew it was impossible for them to understand you, but the nagging feeling never went away.

Maybe when you reunite with the Straw Hats, that nagging feeling will fade away.

~~~

Another art thing. not really proud of it but it is what it is

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader

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donnerpartyofone · 4 days ago

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This is from Adam Bornstein's column in Arnold Schwarzenegger's newsletter, which I feel somewhat silly about reading so faithfully but it is not infrequently interesting. Over the past few years I have been thinking about discipline, how you gain it and lose it, and what it does for you besides achieving a specific outcome. To say that the product of self-control is self-control itself may not sound very enticing, but it's pretty important. I feel like I've lost a lot of that over the last few chapters of my life, and I suspect that it is harder to gain back at my age, but I need to think about it.

I've been thinking about my entire life history with self-control. When I was a kid, I was masochistically disciplined. As early on as I can remember, I had this impression that life was essentially or even exclusively difficult and the only way to justify your existence and satisfy other people was to continuously demonstrate your ability to endure pain, boredom, frustration, deprivation, disappointment, and embarrassment, every hour of every day, forever. (Not that I always endured these things without having a fucking meltdown, but they were the entire content of my life it seemed, so I WAS enduring them) It wasn't all bad, I guess; I got good grades and, like, I remember enjoying karate classes, which are heavily predicated on repetition and endurance and delayed gratification. I had a weird fixation on the army; I didn't fantasize about war or patriotism or whatever, it was this whole thing about how I would be amazing at boot camp and getting yelled at. I also had some sort of bizarre idea about prison, like I would be the best at being a prisoner. This is because I'm a natural-born pervert.

Sometime in my 20s, I started to lose my discipline. I think there were a lot of reasons. A big reason is probably that I didn't have anything to be disciplined FOR. I'd been told my whole life that I was smart and I could be anything I wanted when I grew up, or whatever, so I thought that eventually it would start to become clear what I should do with my life, but it never did. The few things I thought would make a good career for me were things I had no practical understanding of, no idea what it took to make them into a job, so I just didn't do them. This surely means I was never going to be good at them anyway; I think when you're truly interested in something you become compelled by an affectionate curiosity about what you need to learn and do in order to participate in that thing. I may also be too intellectually deficient to have figured out the right questions about my interests, but anyway, all that youthful discipline I had built up to get good grades and satisfy adults didn't really have a purpose when I became an adult myself, so my grip on myself started to slip.

My early adult life was pretty bad. Just the basics of finding jobs and places to live eluded me; I never had the knowledge or the paperwork or the experience or the self-confidence to do the adult things, and I think this was pretty painfully obvious to other adults who were in a position to give me opportunities. I had a sense of being really stunted and way behind where I should be in my personal development, at my age, but I didn't know what to do about it. I did try; there's a perception about me that I just give up and don't try, so I often feel like no one is willing to recognize how often I try and fail, and I'm struggling to let go of my resentment about that. Anyway I continued my early childhood trend of having relationships with pushy, manipulative, abusive people who fed back to me the worst truths about myself, so they seemed very "honest" to me, a quality I admired. I spent most of my time just feeling bad and/or trying to survive social situations. It bothers me now when I think about all the years that I could have spent reading really great books that I still haven't read, trying to write and draw more, watching the movies that I'm still struggling to catch up on, seeing more art. Being in pain is a full-time job, it is incredibly time-consuming, and you will lose a lot more time if, in addition to being in pain, you are spending your evenings not reading Nabokov but watching The Jersey Shore and Mad Men and various other shows about abusive cheaters with your abusive cheating boyfriend who is shouting at the screen about how the girls force the guys to cheat, and who might start screaming at you and keeping you awake for days and chasing you into the closet if you betray the slightest hint of discomfort. All of that is extremely time-consuming.

When life got better, I think I had kind of a revenge reaction against discipline. Like in the early part of my life I had no money, and by the time I had some money I had no understanding of how it worked and no respect for it because I always had this powerful sense that everything is turning into ash before your eyes anyway and nothing is yours so who really cares. So if I got money, I'd just fucking spend it. Being so intensely disciplined as a kid had gotten me nowhere, as far as I could tell, so fuck it, I'm eating fucking candy bars, I'm having another suicidal bodega hoagie for dinner, why the fuck shouldn't I. I will sleep all goddamn day if I want, for days on end, I have a lot of self-indulgence to catch up on!

I'm not completely without discipline as a full-blown adult, I still have plenty of guilt and obligation and fear motivating me to go to the doctor and shit like that. I wish I were more motivated by optimism and a sense of building something, but I must say that doesn't often seem to work. The doctor is often frustrating and ambiguous. Sometimes I get a simple-seeming treatment for a problem, and it destroys a different part of my body and then I have to be on four new medications, and medications to control their side effects. Sometimes I pick up a new form of exercise and I feel good about myself for making an effort, and then the new routine causes problems I need to pay for treatment to fix. It seems I always have to sacrifice one part of myself for another and it's just a perpetual balancing act of barely-normal or sub-normal functioning. I wish it felt more like self-improvement. I wish I could enjoy feeling responsible without then feeling like I made a huge mistake and basically my whole being is just a lemon that does not warrant this much maintenance and concern.

But anyway.

After XX years I just had so many disappointments and made so many unpleasant discoveries, I started to wonder why people say "At least you tried." Like are we SURE that "trying" is, in and of itself, virtuous? Isn't it sometimes that you should "choose your battles" or something? Isn't giving up at least sometimes the actual correct and rational thing to do, when the ROI is nonexistent? What's with the "trying" all the time, what's with the not so subtle suggestion that there's some superior moral affect of trying?

It took me a long time to figure out that making an effort, at anything, even if it doesn't pay off in the specific expected way, builds you into a more resilient and capable person. I did have some counter-examples that helped me see what was going on, of people who performatively did the absolute bare fucking minimum and expected to be showered with praise and encouragement for it, and it was like this big trap to prove that nobody was giving them the unconditional love that they believed they deserved, and being in that behavioral habit all the time eventually rendered them incapable of actually sitting down and writing the thing or making the art or shooting the shot, or whatever, just for the love of doing those things and the curiosity about what could happen if you try. I saw that happening and I did not want to be like that. It painted a very clear picture of what "character" is, what is meant by "building character". The total refusal to ever make yourself uncomfortable doesn't only have specific in-situ destructive effects, but it also makes you a person who is generally less capable of dealing with life.

I want to get back to where I can make myself do things, not only out of fear and shame and masochism, and also not only to obtain a certain result which may not ever come, but just to rebuild self-control. I know that at my age, after a lot of neglect and nihilism, it's going to be harder to get that back. But it's gotta be worth it. I'm thinking about that thing where Arnold Schwarzenegger took ballet lessons to improve his posing, which by his account made him feel totally ridiculous, and like he knew he wasn't going to become a skilled ballerina or anything--but in the short term it did improve his poses, and in the longer term it made him more capable of doing things that felt embarrassing and hard and that he wasn't necessarily cut out for. That seems like a reasonable goal for me.

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patpranishome · 2 months ago

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Like I said in the previous post, I had spent the entire night binge-watching The Spirealm and by the time I finished it, I could not delay my sleep anymore because I had to go to work the next day. So, I didn’t have time to write my thoughts coherently about this series except for a few snippets of posts here and there. Therefore, I want to use this opportunity to convey my feelings about the show and my thoughts on it.

First, and foremost, I want to thank every single person that recommended the show. Every single one of you. If not for you hyping the show so much, I would not even touch the show. How horrible is that? Being deprived of a masterpiece which sat in front of you because you refused even to acknowledge its existence.

Second, OH MY GOD THE SHOW IS SO FREAKING GOOD!!! Going into the show, I was not exactly putting much hope into the plot and was just here for the bromance. But, the plot is so good. It had been a while for me to put my whole focus on a show and truly digest the plot of it. I have never read the book and probably will never read it, but, based on my experience with Chinese bromance shows, sometimes when the setting of the show needs to be changed to adhere to the censorship rules, the plot of the show becomes way too convoluted to the point of incoherence and sometimes downright ridiculous (Guardian, I love you but, you are the worst offender of this). However, this show managed to change the fundamental setting of the story which is supernatural happenings to VR Game almost flawlessly. They set their own rules and managed to stick to them which gave the viewers the ability to understand and follow along while still maintaining the bigger parts of the show. At one point I felt my reason for watching the show changed. If before the romance is the main dish and the plot is salad, now, the plot is the full meal and the romance is the sweet bonus dessert you get free of charge.

Next, also related to the plot, is how the show team managed to make the show feel alive and lived in. They make every single speaking character in the show feel like a human. Sure, some of them are downright despicable ( looking at you, Yan Shihe, may you rot in hell) but, they still feel human, even the non-human also felt human. Which leads to the woman in this series.

Quoting the wise word of Le Sserafim, “All the girls are girling girling, all the girls are girling girling, all the girly girls.” I. Love. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The only time I cried in this show apart from Ruan Nanzhu scenes is Tan Zaozao’s death. From the first time she appeared in the show, I was already half in love with her. Sure, she might not be the brightest in the head but, she is so lovable that I understand how even Ruan Nanzhu is willing to break his principle to save her. I had to stop watching the show for a moment when her video ended because I was just plain sobbing (And I have to stop talking about her right now because man, do I have so many things to say about her). And she is only one example of a female character that I like in the show. Yeah, you read that right, one of the many female characters which was kind of a luxury in this type of show. And many of them are likeable and have so much depth even though they are just NPC. This show even makes me like Zuozi/Sako, the girl that scared the shit out of me every time she appeared on the screen (That moment when the three lady ghosts just chilling and vibing with each other at the final episode is one of the highlights of the show for me).

The set design in the show is *Chef’s kiss*. I was so used to weird CGI sets that the practical set in this show is such a fresh breath to me. Every single door has a distinctive vibe that is very different from one other. The combination of amazing set design, good lighting and clever camera angle really help you to be immersed in the story told in each door. The overall vibe of the show is really something that I cannot quite express in words because it was very specific, but, if I do have to try, the show gave me the dark sky after rain kind of vibe. Like, you know, the rain has stopped but, the sky is still dark, promising more rain to come. That kind of a vibe but, not quite. I am truly vibing the vibe because the show, at least for me, is always carrying this melancholic vibe even during its funny moments.

Lastly, Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi. Man, it has been a while since a pairing hit me hard like this. The last time this happened was my namesake, and they still reign supreme. But, RNZ and LQS brought with them this understanding and acceptance that was so intimate and private. There was no doubt that they loved each other. I mean, LQS spent fifty years of his life just to recreate the world where RNZ existed so they could be together. RNZ bet his life away if it meant LQS could live happily and safely. The actors brought this character to life so well that they understood the assignment clearly and made sure the sub in the subtext was silent. Bro, Xia Zhi Guang’s Nanzhu is so magnetic, charismatic, and intense that every time he is on the screen, he just takes my breath away. Huang JunJie, for me at first, was just okay but, slowly he grew on me with this casual way he acted like he was Lin Qiu Shi. He did small things, but those small things shaped the character well. The scene where he was trying to break down the door to save Ruan Nanzhu. Phe👏No👏Me👏Nal👏. And his smile is so cute. Anytime these two were in the same room alone, it felt hard to breathe even though they were doing nothing, just looking at each other. Their love for each other was never uttered, but it was never silent.

And because of that, I would probably never read the book, well, at least for now. Even before the show, horror genre books had never been my favourite. So, the interest in reading the book before the show is already all-time low. I was satisfied with how the show ended and I wanted to preserve that feeling as long as I could. This is because I knew that I would start comparing the book and the show, and then, I would be left with what if which would affect my feelings for the show. I also love the portrayal of Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi in the show, and I am aware that there is a difference between the characters in the show and the book. As of now, I just do not have the capability to separate the book and the show as two different stories which was, for me, probably the best way to enjoy both of the two worlds.

I have no idea if it was recency bias or what, but, I would put it at the top of my favourite BL series of all time. I may get hate for this but, I truly would put it even above The Untamed, a series that endeared me greatly. The Spirealm left me with this lingering feeling that I cannot understand and the urge to rewatch it again. I am not even a rewatch person. I am sorry for this long ass post. I thought I would be able to express my thoughts clearly after a bit of time, alas, I am still greatly affected by the show to the extent I just felt the need to shout out this feeling into the world.

#the spirealm #ruan nanzhu #lin qiushi #tan zaozao #p.s I dare anyone who read this post to start a drinking game where you drink everytime I mentioned the word show #I hope you don't die of alcohol poisoning #nanqiu

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hamliet · 9 months ago

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BSD 112: War and Peace

Now that the manga has finally caught up to the anime, I shall say that I am still pretty convinced Fyodor will pull a Jesus and be fine.

That said, I hella loved this chapter. The themes, man. Essentially Fukuchi is inviting Fukuzawa to become God, though I would NOT be surprised to see a certain new character show up considering this entire chapter is basically Fukuchi and Fukuzawa trading paraphrased quotes from A Certain Novel.

It's a battle of free will vs peace, and how we walk that line as individuals and societies... war is futile and hell, and pointless because what even is a state anyways besides some arbitrary idea we've all agreed to for... reasons, and yet if you remove the ability for war and conflict as a whole, you don't really have humanity but instead mind-controlled slaves.

War is not a polite recreation, but the vilest thing in life, and we ought to realize this and not make a game of it... as it stands now it's the favorite pastime of the idle and frivolous.”

Every action of theirs, that seems to them an act of their own freewill is in the historical sense not free at all but is bound up with the whole course of history and preordained from all eternity... Man lives consciously for himself, but serves as an unconscious instrument for the achievement of historical, universally human goals.

It's true that people are born where they are born, and caught up in the stories that are grander than they are. Everyone likes to imagine what they know and what they experience and what they want and believe is True, but is it? Or is it merely a product of how they've grown? Is it a product of the centuries and millennia of people before us who create wars and conflicts and use us in them?

Yes, humans are used as unconscious instruments. But is that all they are? All they should be? Fukuchi seems to think yes. If they're currently used as instruments of war, then why not use them. as instruments of peace?

Fukuzawa, however, thinks otherwise.

It's an existential question humanity has been wrestling over since human beings have existed, and it won't be answered anytime soon because there is no neat answer. It's the paradox of human nature and human existence.

He had learned that, as there is no situation in the world in which a man can be happy and perfectly free, so there is no situation in which he can be perfectly unhappy and unfree.

Dictatorships are known, obviously, for suppressing free will and free expression.

Now, in War and Peace, Tolstoy's answer is love. And God, who is Love. But love first and foremost since Tolstoy himself wasn't super religious when writing it (later on he was though).

Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the one thing we are interested in here.

Yet, if you remove the ability to choose love or violence, then:

A man having no freedom cannot be conceived of except as deprived of life.

And it's pretty clear what lesson Fukuchi has to learn:

Life is everything. Life is God. Everything shifts and moves, and this movement is God. And while there is life, there is delight in the self-awareness of the divinity. To love life is to love God. The hardest and most blissful thing is to love this life in one's suffering, in the guiltlessness of suffering.

Life sucks. War is hell. It makes life feel like it's not worth living. But without free will, you are not alive at all.

For if we allow that human life is always guided by reason, we destroy the premise that life is possible at all.

Anyways, even if Leo Tolstoy does not appear as an actual character with the supreme ability of "War and Peace," well, he sure is influencing this arc a lot.

#ask hamliet #war and peace #bsd 112 #bsd meta #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #bsd fukuzawa #fukuchi ouchi #bsd theory #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs 112

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kunikidanelson · 5 months ago

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Alright there was surprisingly a lot of people who wanted to hear my interpretation of kunikidas backstory. So uhm here i go, i just hope i dont disappoint y'all. (Its long as fuck i know, and its not even all LMFAO)

i think he wasnt an orphan because im fucking sick of every single character in bsd being a fucking orphan. What i do think though is that he didn't have the best family life, an overly "protective" (controlling) mother and either an absent or inactive father. (as in, the dad didn't really care what happened at home he just sort of did whatever his wife wanted him to do) but basically this is where Kunikidas hatred for authority starts because all his mother does is pull the "im your mother and you have to listen to me" card. I think his ability before being affected by the "all men are equal" would definitely act up therefore he couldn't go to a proper school because he didn't want to accidentally summon a lion or something like that. So he was basically a nuisance to his mother because she had to homeschool him. Once he was older he decided to go to a math based high school for two reasons: he cant summon numbers; he could live in the school dorms. He basically runs away from home once he's capable and takes on a lot of part time jobs (katai offers him money but kunikida refuses) and basically lives like this until college. Being a good student grade wise he made a deal that if he does tutoring for the other students, they'll let him rent the dorm for free. But at one point he fails an important exam, and though he doesn't get expelled from the college they retract their statement about letting him tutor unless he proves he's knowledgeable in the subject. But that ruins his housing situation and lives on the street for a few days, realising that its less than ideal to sleep on a park bench he goes to katai out of desperation and lives with him for some time while he tries to find a job. And you might see where I'm going with this. But i dont think kunikida would apply to be a detective at first. I believe he would see some poster about the agency needing a secretary, especially someone who could handle computers and decides to try to get a job there. When he goes to the interview he almost starts crying because he's so desperate for money and his own place to live in. Fukuzawa takes pity on him and lets him take hold of the files. Kunikida gets his own apartment (yay) retakes his exam and gets back to tutoring. At one point the agency say they need some sort of signature (or something, i dont have to think of a specific example do i??) on regular paper and kunikida admits that though he knows how to write, his handwriting isn't very good because of his ability he didn't have much of a chance to perfect it. Yosano and Fukuzawa, of course shocked that kunikida has an ability in the first place meanwhile Ranpo just shrugs because he knew all along, just didn't care to mention it. Then fukuzawa asks Kuni if he doesn't want to join the agency as a detective and that any training he might need, will be provided. (Partly offering this to him because the agency in the early days had literally 4 members including the president and secretary Kunikida and they all built a sort of trust between each other) so kunikida accepts and eventually drops out of college because he quite literally doesn't need it anymore, he knows what he wants to do now. And also after all men are equal takes place kunikida starts writing traditionally all the time, simply because he was so deprived of it before, thus building his habit of keeping his notebook with him 24/7.

I hope this made a bit of sense, if you imagined it differently, im not taking that away from you this is just my interpretation xx

Also don't ask me how katai and kunikida met i dont know nor care, i mean they've been friends for around 10 years, so they met when they were 12? They honestly could have just met one day on complete random, I'm not looking too deep into that

#bsd #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #doppo kunikida #bungou stray dogs #kunikida headcanons

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petrichor-idyllic · 2 years ago

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ON YOUR OWN PT. 2

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Request for @d4n1elll4

SUMMARY: Follow up from part 1. Fem! Reader x Minho. Reader x Platonic! Gladers. Movie based fic.

I have a whole ass movie to cover here- so some scenes that aren't important to your character get brushed over. Sorry, this is long enough as is and I have another part to write.

You've escaped the Maze, and with your words of wisdom from Thomas, it's time to survive the Scorch. Which is harder than it looks. But what happens when you over estimate your abilities when no one else is around? At least, you think there isn't.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, awkward teenagers, more dumbass dog, some sexual tension if you squint a bit, Minho has lightning scars, WICKED being WCKD because movie.

Okay, maybe this was a bad idea.

After Thomas' advice, you went and raided the lab and went back to the Middle to get as many supplies as you could- which took an entire day in itself.

But still, that might not have been enough.

Somehow, the Scorch is even more confusing than the Maze. You have no idea where you are or what direction you're actually meant to head in. It would've been nice for Thomas to give you some directions, but it seemed like the boy was on a tight schedule.

It's been a couple of days, and your makeshift piece of wood with some rope attached that you're pulling over your shoulder, is a lot heavier with a lazy German Shepherd on it. Your arm aches and you're running out of water.

This is less than ideal.

Not to mention they call it the Scorch for a reason. The days are unbearably hot and the nights send chills through your body. But you can't stop, especially since you don't have a clue where you're going.

That doesn't mean you're coping well, though. You're exhausted, deciding to pick moving over sleep. You're dehydrated, sleep-deprived, your body hurts and has forgotten how to regulate its own temperature. You feel like you're dying.

And honestly, you might just be.

The blazing sun beats down on you the same way it destroyed half of the planet, and you're starting to regret leaving the Maze.

You're sweating, but feel cold and your head is pounding. You push through as your vision starts to be clouded by dark spots. Though, when your knees go weak and you hit the floor, your options are looking slim. In a desperate attempt, you roll onto your back, grasping for your water bottle, your hearing cuts out as no water comes from the bottle.

Your hand hits the floor as your eyes roll back.

You're one for the vultures now.

Well, not quite.

"Uh, guys?" Frypan says as the group bickers in the background. They'd just lost Winston, and Thomas is being salty about Teresa getting her memories back but not telling him about it whilst Newt and Minho fight over a water bottle. Aris hasn't said anything for the last two hours and doesn't intend on changing that anytime soon. They're definitely not your best shot, but it's all you've got. Not that you're conscious to argue.

"Guys!" He snaps, making the group behind him look at him. "Are you shanks seein' this or am I having a marriage?"

"Do you mean mirage?" Newt chuckles, making his way over to his friend, patting his shoulder as he expects to look out and find absolutely nothing from the top of their sand dune. "Holy shuck," he mumbles, his expression dropping.

"What?" Minho asks as he approaches, Thomas and Aris not far behind him, with Teresa being the last to join.

"Is that... a dog?" Teresa asks.

In the distance, your useless dog has decided to actually do something to help you- aimlessly run around the Scorch to try and find help.

Quest spotted them from a mile away and is making a beeline towards them, barking his little head off.

As the dog gets closer, it stops at the bottom of the mound of sand, and Teresa's face drops. "Holy shit. Quest?"

The boys snap to look at her.

"Quest?" Minho raises his eyebrow. "The shuck is Quest?"

"He is! That's- That's Quest! He's (Y/N)'s dog!" Without giving anymore explanation, she stumbles through the sand, nearly falling over as she rushes to the dog.

"Who the hell is (Y/N)?" Newt asks, just in general. Frypan shrugs, deciding to follow the girl with Thomas hot on his heels and Aris blindly following anyone who moves. Newt goes to join in, but he hesitates when he sees Minho's face.

It's an expression he can't quite put his finger on. It's like that one time someone pointed out that the Grievers were also probably made by the people who were feeding you- like a small piece of the puzzle just fell into place.

"Mate, you good?"

"Hm?" Minho snaps back to reality. "Yeah, I'm good- let's find out why there's a shuckin' mutt in the middle of the damn desert."

Minho starts walking towards Quest but it takes Newt a second to follow.

Something just happened in the Runner's head. And Newt's almost scared to find out what.

In truth, your name sent chills down Minho's spine and a rush of adrenaline through his body. He doesn't understand why- but it was that strange feeling when someone mentions the name of someone you have a crush on when you're not expecting it.

But he'll deal with that later.

"We have to find (Y/N)!" Teresa demands. "She'd never leave Quest on his own!"

"Who the everliving shuck is (Y/N)?" Minho asks as he strides over, looking at Thomas who simply gives him a shrug.

Teresa sighs. "She was one of us- from a Maze. Thomas lied about her dying and basically turned her Maze off- she has to be out here."

"What?" About three boys say at the same time.

Quest barks, not letting her explain further. He spins around, taking a playful stance before starting to run off in the opposite direction.

"C'mon!" Teresa shouts.

"Teresa-!" Thomas lets out a loud and frustrated groan. "We don't have time for this."

The boys feel like they're aimlessly wondering around the Scorch for about twenty minutes as they let this random dog take them on a wild goose chase. But when Teresa suddenly stops, gasping, they realise this might be more serious than they originally thought.

"No," Teresa mumbles, "No! (Y/N)! She runs down another dune, falling to her knees next to your unconscious body.

"What the shuck?" Newt mumbles.

To his surprise, Minho is actually the first to follow her (probably because he hates her guts). It's obvious that Minho is used to the solid concrete of the Maze as he fumbles over himself, the loose texture of the sand making him unbalanced.

Staring at your unconscious body, a strange wave of familiarity smacks him in the face. He knows you. At least, it feels like he does. But he has absolutely no recollection of you whatsoever.

"Minho," Teresa snaps, forcing him out of his trance, "water!" The boy fumbles, passing the ravenette a bottle as she opens your mouth, pouring some in and sitting you up more so you don't choke. She checks your pulse and your breathing. "She's alive." She confirms as the other boys join.

"We need to wait until she wakes up-"

"We need to move, Teresa," Thomas says, "we can't risk everything over this."

"Thomas is right," Newt groans. "We have to move- we can't afford to stay here."

"We can't just leave her," Teresa argues, "you saved her before, Thomas, even if you don't remember it- it was for a reason."

"She's right," Minho agrees, making everyone look at him. In all honesty, his curiosity is driving him more than anything, but the thought of leaving you makes his chest hurt and his fists ball. "We need all the help we can get- and if Teresa knows her, then we all probably did at some point. Besides, if we're gonna pretend to be good guys- this seems like a good place to start."

"Yeah, can't argue with that," Frypan sides with the Runner and then looks at Aris, who simply nods in agreement. Relief crosses both of Teresa's and Minho's faces as they've won the vote.

So, the Gladers set up camp as night starts to fall, with Teresa keeping an eye on you; Quest never leaving your side.

They also steal your food. Compensation, I guess.

You stir awake, your head pounding as you rise up. Quest immediately barks, getting everyone's attention before he starts licking your face.

"Quest, chill, bro," you mumble, trying to push the dog away.

"You're awake," Teresa says, snapping your attention to her. You blink. "You gave us a real scare."

You're lying on the sand, using someone's bag as a pillow as you're surrounded by people. Not only have you seen most of these people in your dreams, but you literally saw Thomas and Teresa on video.

What the actual fuck?

People. There's people. There are actual living people here and talking to you.

Maybe you should pass out more often.

"W-what?" You stutter out, straining to sit up.

"Take it easy," the girl soothes you, "you were out cold for quite a while."

"I-I don't understand," tears start to prick your eyes, "is this real? Am I dreaming?"

"Klunky shuckin' dream if you are," Minho says, gaining the courage to speak to you as he comes to your other side. "Here." He holds a water bottle out to you.

It's him.

Him.

He's here.

You look between him and the bottle. He's even more attractive in person and this weird crush you'd developed for someone you don't even remember speaking to puts you in an interesting situation.

You takes the drink, briefly brushing fingers for a second and it sends a spark down Minho's spine. Okay, what's happening to him here?

"Thanks," he pulls his lips into a thin line in response.

"Your dog brought us to you," Teresa explains. "Do you remember us? At all?"

You blink, considering your words very carefully so you don't sound insane. You open your mouth, but as your eyes flicker to movement, only one word leaves your mouth.

"You," Thomas is stood with his arms crossed, his eyebrows twitching. "Y-you stopped the Maze- you're the reason I escaped."

"Yeah, so I keep being told," he sighs. You tilt your head as you sit up straight.

"You don't remember?"

He shakes his head. "None of us do. Teresa got her memories back, but we didn't."

"What? Why don't you..?" Your voice trails off. "Were you guys from more Mazes?"

Minho almost feels weirdly jealous at the attention Thomas is getting from you. This makes no sense. So, he butts in.

"Me, Thomas, Teresa, Frypan and Newt were all from the same Maze," he explains each person giving you an awkward wave in turn, "and Aris is from a different one."

You look at him, your eyes becoming hollow before they come to your dog. "You guys were together?" Your voice is barely a whisper.

It's like your heart breaks in that moment. These people had each other? Why didn't you have someone? Why were you abandoned?

Minho looks at Newt for advice, who simply shrugs. Great help, thanks, Newt.

He crouches next to you. "You okay?"

You can't even look at him. "They put you guys together? Like you were a group?"

"Yeah," his eyebrows furrow, confusion taking over his expression, "there was like fifty boys in our Maze."

You turn to look at him again. "What?"

"What? What- I don't get it," he pinches his brow, "What's going on here?"

"You guys were together? And all I had was my dog?" Quest seems to sense your unease, resting his head on your crossed legs.

Minho's expression softens, he looks between Thomas and Teresa for help.

"You were on your own?" Thomas asks.

You nod. "Yeah, just me and my dumbass dog." You scoff.

As much as you tried to ignore it and pretend it didn't faze you, and that animals are better anyway, being on your own for so long killed some small part of you. And these guys didn't have to go through that?

There's a long pause. "Wait, hold on, you survived the Maze all on your own?" You look at Minho, who is staring at you like you're the closest thing he's going to get to meeting a God.

"Not like I had much choice," you give him a small smile, and he stands up, mumbling something to himself.

They start to fill you in on what happened with WCKD and that they're currently on the run, and you tell them what Thomas' past self told you.

It's obvious you've not been socially conditioned as you feel very awkward. Though, you and Aris get along pretty well since neither of you came from the Glade.

You sit in front of the fire, Quest sitting next to you as you hold your hands in front of you. You flinch slightly when Minho joins you, clearly yet to adapt to the boy's presence.

"Sorry," he mumbles, awkwardly putting his hands out to show he's no harm but not really sure how to go about that properly. He doesn't day anything else, seemingly just enjoying the warmth as you sit with your knees to your chest.

You have no idea what the appropriate way to act here is.

Do you start a conversation? Is it inappropriate to look at him? What's the right amount of eye contact? How to person good?

"I can't believe they put you in a Maze on your own," thankfully, Minho beats you to it. "You realise how insane that is, right?"

"Not really," you chuckle, "I've never known any different."

"Well, there was like fifty of us, and we're the only people that actually got out alive- and Winston, so..." He trails off, struggling to process it.

Minho spent years of his life protecting and helping the Gladers escape- but he had help. If it weren't for Thomas, Alby, Teresa, Newt, and maybe even Gally to some extent, Minho doubts he would've survived that long.

"Like I said, what choice did I have?"

"Bet it was lonely."

You pause, deciding to play it off instead since you really don't know him- even if it feels that way.

"Nah," you scoff, "I had Quest," you refer to the sleeping dog next to you. "Dumb mutt."

"That dumb mutt saved your ass today."

"Yeah, I know," you sigh. "One hell of a coincidence you guys just happened to be in the Scorch at the same time as me."

"Yeah, well, there's been a lot of coincidences recently- I mean, Thomas was only in the Glade for like three days," he laughs, "I only met the shank like a week ago."

"What? What's a shank?" You look at him, resting your head on your knees, and something about the way you look at him makes his stomach flip.

"It's uh, well-" he clears his throat, composing himself, "I don't really know. It's just like an insult, I guess."

"So, you guess have your own slang? That's kinda fun."

"Yeah, Alby would shout at us if we actually swore- he was like an old man."

"Alby?"

Minho goes quiet for a second. "Yeah, he- he was my boss, I guess. First Greenie in the Glade and he basically ran the joint. He sacrificed himself to save us."

You guess that's the benefit of being on your own- no grief. You can't attend the funerals of people you were never introduced to.

"He sounds like a good man."

Minho smiles softly. "Yeah, he was. Lost a lotta good people."

"I'm sorry you went through that," his eyes flicker to you, and you're surprised when he playfully nudges you.

"You, too."

The group decides to sleep, you included. The fire is put out and you all lie in the sand. Quest curls up next to you, and you've not fully recovered from your exhausted body, so sleep comes easy enough.

Though, Minho's wide awake. He sits on the ground, his eyes fixated on you.

"Alright," Newt groans, "what's goin' on in your shuckin' head?"

"What?" Minho looks to the blond, who's now resting on his elbows as he's lay down.

"You're actin' weird, dude- you like the new girl or some klunk?"

Minho drops his head, scoffing. "Shit, I was joking," Newt snorts when his friend doesn't respond.

"I mean, she is cute," Minho grins, turning into a chuckle when Newt's eyebrows raise.

"She looks like a corpse."

"Yeah, 'cause she nearly was one." Minho defends you before sighing. "But, no- I mean, I don't know. It's weird, she feels... familiar, almost. Like I used to know her." He hesitates. "Like we used to be close."

Newt processes this for a second. It's rare for Minho to be so unsure of himself. "Well, Teresa knows her, so I don't think that'd be that far-fetched."

"Yeah, I guess," the Runner mumbles.

"Get some sleep, shank- I ain't dealing with your grumpy ass in the morning," Newt tells him and Minho rolls his eyes, but reluctantly lies down.

None of you actually get much sleep thanks to Thomas.

"Guys! Guys!" He scrambles, shoving anyone close enough to get attacked.

"Ugh, what?" Someone responds.

"Get up! Get up! Frypan! Aris! Get up. I see something! You see that?" Thomas points off into the distance, lights flickering as the faint outline of a city skyline is just about visibly through the thick grey of dawn. You all scramble to your feet. "It's lights."

"We made it," Minho lets out a sigh of relief, which is cut short when the crackling of thunder turns you all around.

Deep grey clouds loom nearby, the darkness only broken up by blinking flashing of lightning.

"Let's go. We gotta go," Thomas says. "Come on!"

Panic sets in relatively quickly as everyone stumbles to get their bags and belongings. Not fully recovered from the previous day, you stumble, dropping some stuff from your (poor) luggage attempt.

"Shit," you hiss, dipping to grab some bags of food and water bottles.

Quest barks, and Minho turns to find you on your hands and knees, desperately trying to collect your belongings.

He grabs your arm, pulling you up. "Leave it! We'll find supplies in the city, we gotta go!"

He gives you very little choice but to go with him. He yanks you towards him, pushing you forward as you start to break into a sprint, merging with the rest of the group.

Booking it through the Scorch, you come across a parking lot with what looks to be an old factory building attached. You'll be able to escape the storm there.

That's until there's a blinding light to your left and Minho is thrown several feet, landing on the concrete with a thud.

A few of you are knocked down, you and Thomas included as ringing shatters through your skull. You groan, looking around. Thomas seems conscious, but the other boy is out cold.

You're on your feet in seconds as a strange feeling of almost heart break and pure panic takes over.

"Minho!" You shout, desperately trying to pull him up. "Help him!" You yell despite not being able to hear your own voice after being briefly deafened.

Thomas is the first to help you, and for a brief second you lock eyes. You don't know why you're crying- but you are. Tears pour down your face as your vision is blurred, but with the help of Thomas, and now Newt and Aris, you're able to get him up.

Frypan found a door into the building and is shouting you all to follow, but you're having some kind of emotional breakdown and Quest is getting in the way of your feet.

You've... never cried before?

Even back in the Maze, you never shed a tear. You just kind of got mad and hit things, and then got over it and went on with your day. Maybe it was because you never had to deal with the emotional attachments of other people, but all it took was Minho getting hurt for your tough act to crack.

Plowing into the dark room and slamming to the door behind you, Thomas tells you to put Minho down before turning on a tourch.

"Minho!" Thomas shakes his friend. The room is briefly filled with people exclusively saying his name.

"Move," you push Thomas out of the way, pressing your fingers to the unconscious boys throat, trying to find a pulse. Leaning in to check his breathing, you're startled when he suddenly groans.

Lifting his head, he makes eye contact with you and visible relief washes over him.

Oh, God, you're close. He lean back again, giving him room to breathe as he tries to process what the hell just happened?

"What happened?" He grumbles.

"You got struck by lightning." Newt says, bluntly after a pause.

"Oh."

The boys chuckle amongst themselves and you shake your head.

For some reason, you playfully punch Minho in the arm as he gets him. "You nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack."

It's a simple gesture, really, but it's unusual for someone you've just met- but it's almost natural, like you've known him your whole life. I guess in a way, it does feel like that for you.

"Sorry," he mumbles, chuckling as he's fully on his feet. "Thanks, guys." He grins at his friends, who give a mix of rolling eyes and friendly pats.

"Hey," Teresa gets the group's attention, clearly not as concerned about Minho's well-being as the others, "what's that smell?"

She turns her light on and is nearly immediately attacked by a Crank. She jumps back, screaming, but the Crank hits the floor, restrained by chains, in its desperate attempt to get to her.

"Behind you!" Teresa yells and you're suddenly yanked back again. Minho pulls you behind him as Quest stands in front of him, seemingly protecting him, too.

Pure chaos ensues as the group screams and shouts, and between the blur of lights and being stuck in the middle of the huddle, you can't really make out what's going on.

"I see you've met our guard dogs," an unfamiliar voice says as yellow light bleeds into the room. Peaking from behind Minho, you watch a short-haired girl make her way through the crowd of chained up Cranks.

"Stay back!" Minho shouts, his arm coming out in front of you as you stand on your tip-toes, unintentially pressing your front into his back.

Minho is still a dumb hormonal teenage boy, so that's definitely grounds for his brain to go fuzzy- but he can't afford to get distracted here.

"You guys look like shit," the girl says, almost jokingly. "Come on. Follow me. Unless you wanna stay here with them."

You all exchange concerned glances, but no one moves as the girl walks off.

"For fuck's sake," you mumble, pushing through the boys. "We can't stay here- c'mon."

Your independence comes out as you take the lead, Thomas jogging to catch up to you but careful to avoid being shredded by what used to be people. Your options are slim, and you know who you'd rather deal with- they just decided to follow.

The girl leads you in the factory, which looks like it's been turned into a refugee camp.

"Come on, keep up." She instructs. "Jorge wants to meet you."

Leading you up some stairs, Thomas finally speaks. "Who's Jorge?" He pushes in front of you, Teresa by his side. So you fall back, walking between Minho and Newt, with Frypan next to Newt.

"You'll see. No one's come out of the Scorch in a long time- you've just got him curious." She pauses, looking over her shoulder to look Thomas up and down. "Me, too."

You look at Minho, who smirks slightly as he looks back at you before both of you look at Newt, who is wearing a similar expression- especially when Teresa's face drops. The three of you have to try not to laugh. This could be funny, and apparently Thomas is a chick magnet.

I mean, look at him; you can't really blame them. (Don't tell Minho).

But the amusement is short-lived when Newt looks behind him and there's a group of men, looking like they want to eat you all alive. Minho grabs your wrist, pulling you in front of him just a little bit as Quest keeps close to your side.

"Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?" Newt asks, noticing the way Minho's keeping you close and the way you all just interacted sending alarm bells off in his head. Maybe Minho wasn't tripping before- you do feel familiar.

"Let's just hear him out," Thomas looks back at you guys, "see what he has to say."

Going up another set of industrial stairs, you entire a large office room with a giant dome window that is covered in rust.

"Jorge," the girl gets the attention of a man fiddling with a radio, "They're here." She sits on an old sofa and appears bored whilst Jorge mutters to himself.

He turns around, hands on his hips and sighing. "Do you ever get the feeling the whole world's against you?"

You all exchange glances before he continues.

"Three questions: where did you come from? Where are you going? How can I profit?" No one says anything as you realise Newt was probably right. "Don't all answer at once."

"We're headed for the mountains," Thomas offers an answer, "looking for the Right Arm."

The men behind you snicker and even Jorge scoffs, taking a sip from his drink.

"Looking for ghosts, you mean. Question number two; where did you come from?"

"That's our business," Minho spits out as you stand by his side.

Jorge shrugs, and it's probably a signal because you're all immediately restrained.

Thomas is screaming for them to get off of him as the girl grabs a device, forcing his head down and scanning the back of his neck. "Shut up, you big baby."

The machine beeps. "What is that?" Thomas manages to shove her away, his breathing laboured.

The girl looks at the device and then at Jorge, who puts his glasses on. "You were right," she says.

"Right about what?" You snap, your hands being held behind your back by a guy twice your size as another one pins Quest's head to the floor. "What's she talking about?"

You get out of the man's grip, but that's because they all seem to let you all go- even Quest, who you're quick to grab and force to your side.

You have the urge to protect these guys, and you've survived the Maze on your own- so you don't see these guys as a real threat.

"I'm sorry, hermano," Jorge scoffs, "looks like you're tagged- you came from WCKD. Which means you're very valuable."

And that is how you ended up hanging from a ceiling, your dog in a cage made of chicken wire on the side, and a looming pit of darkness beneath you.

"Good plan, Thomas," Minho's sarcasm echos through the room, "just hear what the man has to say. Really working out for us."

"Shut up, Minho," Thomas groans as you chuckle. "Maybe a can reach the rope."

You watch in some form of second-hand embarrassment as Thomas fails to fold on himself and looks like a poor excuse for a gymnast before giving up.

"Enjoying the view?" Jorge approaches.

"The hell do you want?" Thomas is clearly done with his shit and you can't blame him.

"That is the question," he scoffs. "My men wants to sell you back to WCKD. Life has taught them to think small. I'm not like that. Something tells me that you're not either."

"Is it the blood rushing to my head, or is this shank not making any sense?"

"Minho," you warn him, "Shut up, man."

"Tell me what you know about the Right Arm," Jorge continues like you guys never spoke.

"I thought you said they were ghosts," Newt butts in, earning a glare.

"I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially when I hear them chattering on the airwaves." He moves over to a lever, resting his hand on it. "You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal."

"We- we don't know much," Thomas starts, but he gets little chance to continue when you all drop several feet. "Okay! Okay! Alright! They're hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WCKD. They got out a buncha kids. That's it, that's all we know!"

The man goes to speak, only to be cut off when someone else appears.

"Yo, Jorge, what's going on?"

"Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted- we're done now."

"Hey, wait- you're not gonna help us?" Thomas sounds desperate.

"Don't worry, hermano, we'll get you back to where you belong." He walks away, shouting "hang tight" over his shoulder.

And you're left hanging.

Quite literally.

So, you kind of make a plan- shove Teresa as hard as you collectively can so she can reach the side. Which mainly consists of Minho struggling and you being bumped into.

Though eventually, you manage.

It's a small victory that doesn't last long when you hear a voice over a loud speaker, accompanied by a helicopter. The group seems to recognise this and goes into panic mode.

Through trail and error, you all manage to get pulled to the sides, and this guy monologues in the background. You also get your dog free.

"Okay, let's go! Let's go!" Thomas' favourite phrase as you go to escape, only to be blocked by the guy from before. "We're not tryna cause any trouble, okay? We just gotta get outta here."

"Is that so? Janson, I got 'em for ya, I'll being them down- don't shoot us. Come on, let's go."

You're standing next to Thomas as the man holds a rifle in front of him. You have an idea, and it's dumb but as you look at Thomas, you realise these guys have probably survived on dumb ideas.

"I said, let's go."

You grab the barrel of the gun, a bullet flying out and narrowly missing you as you get into a wresting match. Slamming your head into his nose, there's a cracking noise as he falls backwards.

He gets to his feet relatively quickly, gun still in hand, aiming to kill.

And a gunshot goes off.

But not from him.

He falls to the floor with a thud, the girl from before standing behind him, holding a pistol. All of you stare at her.

"Okay, come on. Come on! Let's go!"

You, once again, take the lead, following the girl through the factory. "Sorry," you mumble, I didn't catch your name."

"Brenda," she says, simply. "You?"

"(Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, (Y/N)- you've got fire, kid, I like it."

"Thanks?"

"Your dog's also cute."

"Oh, thanks."

She leads you to Jorge, who has a lot of bags and quickly ushers you all through the building. Shoving a window open, he reveals a zip line.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Frypan mumbles and you have to agree with him.

Jorge gives some words about getting you to the Right Arm but you're too busy worrying about getting Quest on a zip line.

"Follow me!" He shouts, whizzing off to another building.

"Okay, come on!" Brenda shouts, yanking another piece of rope.

"Wait, what about-?"

"I got him," Minho threads his legs though the loop, and then leans down to pick up the dog with a surprising amount of ease. Quest isn't exactly small. He hooks him under one arm and uses the other to hold on as Brenda pushes him forward.

Aris goes next, then you follow.

"Holy shit!" You shout as you cling on for dear life, not having time for the same safety precautions that Minho did with the loop trick.

"I got you!" Minho shouts as you draw closer. "I got you!"

You practically collide into his open arms as he steadies you, letting go of the rope, you throw your arms around him. Squealing slightly and stumbling, you both somehow manage to end up on your feet.

"You okay?" He asks as you pull away, his hands coming to your shoulders.

You swallow. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay- I'm okay."

He nods. "Okay." Your eyes lock for a second, and all you want to do is throw your arms back around him and let him comfort you about this stressful situation.

Quest barks, jumping up on you and distracting you from the boy. Though, you glance at Minho again. "Thank you." You're clearly referring to the dog, who you might actually die without.

"Don't worry about it."

Teresa's screams bring back to reality for a second time. Both you and Minho go to grab her.

"You okay?" You let her grab at you but she doesn't say anything, immediately turning around.

"No," she mumbles.

"What's wrong?" Newt asks, stepping forward after witnessing whatever just happened with you and his best friend.

"Brenda ran off and Thomas went after her-"

"What?" Jorge steps forward. "Shit."

"Uh, guys," Frypan leans out of a different window, pointing down as WCKD's guards swarm the building.

"Shit," Jorge says again before collecting himself. "Okay, we need to go."

"What?" Newt steps in. "We can't just leave them!"

"We have no choice, hermano- Brenda knows her way out."

"We can't leave Thomas," Teresa steps in front of the man, blocking him from moving.

"Brenda will keep him safe, we can't stay here or-"

He's cut off by the sound of a massive explosion. You shield your face as chunks of debris fly through the open window. The building is turned into rubble and flames, smoking billowing into the night sky.

"What did you do?" Teresa shouts, snapping her attention back to Jorge. "What did you do?!"

"They'll be fine- we'll find them in the city. We need to go- now!"

Jorge rushes off, giving you all very little choice but to follow him.

Making your way through the building, the WCKD personnel are too busy dealing with the burning building to even notice you slipping away.

I mean, they still think you're dead so that's probably a good thing.

You keep running for what feels like miles until you end up in the city. It's almost deserted, towering abandoned buildings trap you in and faint chattering beyond what you can see. It's unnerving, but you stay close.

"We have to find Marcus- he's an old friend that used to have connections to the Right Arm. Brenda will be looking for him as well. We find him, we find your friend."

"Wait, Marcus?" You jog to catch up with Jorge. "Thomas told me to find him."

"Thomas told you that? So, he didn't tell me everything."

"No, WCKD took his memories- he told me in a recording, he doesn't remember anything about it."

Jorge stops, raising his eyebrow as he looks at you, before he hums. "Okay, hermano, we'll set up came for the night. There's no point trying to find Marcus now."

You all reluctantly agree, picking a spot under the damaged bridge, you take a breather.

You sit with Quest, leaning against the wall behind you. You tried talking to Teresa, but you didn't get anywhere with that. She's been acting weird, but you can assume that's because Thomas is currently missing with some random girl.

Minho walks over to you, standing in front of you. "How you feeling? You've been quiet."

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" You scoff. "You got knocked out by pure electricity like three hours ago."

"Eh, bit achey, but I'll live." He stretches and you rolls your eyes, but your eyes lock on his exposed mid-drift. Not because it's hot (well, it is but that's not it) but because of the spider web like lines stretching across his lower stomach.

"Uh, Minho?" You blink as he drops his arms again.

"Yeah?"

"Lift your shirt up."

He freezes, blinking at you. It doesn't help that the other boys are within earshot. "What?"

"Just..." You stand up, "just lift your shirt up- I think I'm tripping."

He furrows his brows, but does as he's told.

Exposing his abs, he reveals his chiselled form, but also the pinkish, exposed vein patterns that curl from around his back and come around the edges of his front, some cutting completely across his skin. Which is what you noticed.

"What the shuck?" He mumbles. In a fumble, he dumps his jacket off and yanks his shirt over his head.

He turns around, exposing the larger and more feathered patterns that stretch across his back.

"Holy shit," mindlessly, you move towards him, touching his back and making him jump. "Dude- you've got lightning scars."

Traving your finger down his spine, goosebumps cover his body and his arm hair pricks up.

"I- you, I- what?" He clears his throat. "Lightning scars?" He turns to face you, looking down as he examines his own arms. "Shit."

He looks over at his friends, who are yet to move. Frypan, Newt and Teresa seem more interested in how this pans out than their friend being permanently scarred. Jorge and Aris don't want to be involved.

"They look kinda cool," he looks back up at you, starting to feel flustered under your admiring gaze as you stare at his body.

"I, uh- thanks?" You snort, sitting back down.

Minho puts his shirt back on, but doesn't bother with the jacket. He flops next to you, groaning.

"Well, shuck it- guess that's something I have to deal with now."

"As long as they don't hurt, they're not really a problem though, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

You settle into a comfortable silence, the other's start to go to sleep, but neither of you really make an attempt to. It's smart for someone to stay awake anyway, and you'd rather not do it on your own.

"Okay," Minho clears his throat after a while, finally gaining some courage after thinking about it for so long, "this is gonna sound weird, okay?"

You furrow your brows, but nod. "Okay."

"Okay, so, I uh, I think... I know you." You blankly look at him. "Yeah, I know, I don't get it, but you feel... familiar. I just, I feel like I know you, like we're close, in some way." His head falls into his hands. "The shuck am I even saying?"

"I used to have dreams about you." You state pretty bluntly. "Well, memories, I guess." If you're going to be honest, this might as well be the time. Especially since Minho is being open with you.

"What? What do you mean?"

"We were... friends? I guess. I don't really know. But I'd have these dreams about you, and the others and we'd be in this lab. All of it was pretty mundane and nothing really of note- you were just in pretty much all of them. Half of the time we were just chilling, or playing some game or talking about something." You shrug. "I guess my memory wipe didn't work as well as other people's."

"That's..."

"Weird, right?"

"Yeah," he scoffs, "I didn't even have any memory-dream-things. It's just a feeling. I can't explain it."

Another round of silence settles, and you laugh to yourself, making him give you a puzzled look. "I think I used to have a crush on you."

He blinks at you.

Why the fuck did you say that? Oh, yes, very subtle- like you totally don't still have a weird crush on him.

A grin spreads across his face.

"You had a crush on me?" You face starts to burn.

"Well, I uh, I think so- I mean I could feel things in those dreams- wait, no, not feel things that sounds weird. I just mean I could feel my last self's feelings, so I could feel my own feelings, I guess. That makes no sense, I uh- I'm not weird, I promise."

He barks a laugh, shaking his head. "That's cute."

"Shut up," you playfully shove him.

"Nah, it is." He smiles at you. "So, you still got a thing for me or...?" You shove him again, harder this time.

"Dude, shut up."

"I'm only asking."

"Why do you wanna know?"

"'Cause I do."

You hesitate, feeling your face grow redder. You shrug. "I uh, I don't know- I mean, you're hot, dude. But I don't even know who I am, yanno?"

"Yeah, I get you," he pauses, "so you think I'm hot?"

"Bro," he snorts again.

"Look, I don't think it really matters if we know who we are- but if we know how we feel, then that's as close as I think we're ever gonna get. I mean, we've got this far, right?"

He stares off into the city, internally dealing with these feelings himself.

You shift slightly, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. Minho freezes before turning to look at you. "What was that for?"

"You're right. And thank you, for looking out for me I guess. It's nice not having to be on my own and fend for myself for a change."

A soft smile creeps across his face. "So, you do still have a thing for me, then?"

"Shut up," it comes out as more a mutter than anything else as his hand comes up to your face.

"I'll take that as a yes," his nose brushes against yours. You lean forward, kissing him. It's a sweet kiss and it doesn't last very long.

You pull away, resting your head on his shoulder. For the first time ever, you feel actually kind of content.

"Oi, lovebirds, wake up," Jorge kicks you awake.

You didn't even realise that you'd fallen asleep, but you're both sat upright against the wall, your head still on Minho's shoulder, his head resting on top of yours and Quest sprawled across your outstretched legs.

You groan, your movement stirring Minho awake too.

"We gotta move, hermano, get up." You and Minho exchange glares before you make Quest move, getting up and offering Minho a hand.

You're on the move fairly quickly. You walk with Teresa and Aris, chuckling to yourself as you listen to Frypan and Newt tease Minho about you.

Eventually, you reach a building. It looks like a party that was in full swing about an hour ago, but now half the people are passed out and the other half are slurring their words and looking very lost.

All of you creep into the room, and you spot Brenda, who is trying to wake up an unconscious Thomas.

"Uh, Jorge?" He looks at you, and you vaguely point in the general direction.

Brenda and Jorge reunite and he instructs Brenda to take you all upstairs, Minho, Newt and Frypan having to carry Thomas.

And Jorge said he had to deal with something and would meet you up there.

You, however, did not expect him to return with a beaten up bloodied stranger that he tied to a chair.

Who is Marcus, apparently.

You leave Jorge to deal with that and join Minho and Newt as they watch Teresa caress Thomas' face.

They exchange glances. "How romantic," Minho whispers, sending Newt into a fit of repressed giggles. You elbow him. "What?" He grins at you.

"Don't be dick."

"What? It is romantic." You give him a deadpan expression. "You don't want me to gently stroke your face?"

"Try it and I will bite you."

"Please don't."

"Hey, hey, you're okay," Teresa says, bringing your attention back to Thomas as he rises up, groaning. "Hi," she smiles, "we have to stop meeting like this."

And suddenly you understand why they were making fun of her.

Minho walks over, leaning over Teresa. "Welcome back, you ugly shank."

Thomas gets up, processing the scene in front of him as he joins you and Newt. "Looks like you've been having fun," the blond boy says.

You walk over to Minho, taking no interest in the violence and honestly being pleased you don't have to deal with this on your own- like the original plan when you escaped.

Minho casually puts his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Apparently, he has no problem with PDA. "You really think this guy knows where the Right Arm is?" He asks you and you shrug.

"It's not like we have any other option, really."

He hums in response. "I guess."

You all cringe as you watch Jorge give Marcus a piece of his mind, resulting in him kicking the man in the chest, sending him flying and stealing his car keys.

So, you ended up in some random man's career driving into the mountains. You, Minho and Frypan got into a massive fight about riding shot gun, so much so that you missed Newt taking the seat before any of you got the chance.

So, obviously you then got into an argument about who got to sit next to the window.

Minho won.

And you ended up sitting between him and Aris, with Thomas, Teresa and Brenda in the very back. Which seemed very awkward and you felt bad for Frypan- who also ended up there.

Quest decided to sit on Minho so he could stick his head out of the window. Minho regretted his decision pretty quick after that.

You were thriving, however.

The drive is surprisingly peaceful, and it gives you the opportunity to talk to Aris more.

Though, when the car slows down due to a pile of vehicles in the road, none of you really have to say anything when you get out. Silently walking through the graveyard of transport, it becomes apparent that driving anywhere past this point is unlikely.

Then the gun shots start.

You dive behind a car with Minho and Newt as the group lets out numerous shouts along the lines of "get down" and "take cover".

"Does anyone know where those bloody shots came from?" Newt shouts once it's confirmed you're all okay.

"You okay?" Minho asks you, his voice low as he pets Quest. You nod in response as he take your hand into his.

Another round of gunfire.

"Everybody! Get set to run back to the truck! And cover your ears!" Jorge shouts, making the three of you look at each other. Well, that can't be good.

Two girls appear, forcing Thomas to drop whatever weapon he has and making you all get to your feet, shouting demands at you.

That's until they recognise Aris. You lean the girls are called Harriet and Sonya, and they have a nice reunion that leaves you all confused.

It's been a weird few days.

"Uh.. what's happening?" Minho asks for you all.

"We were in the Maze together," Aris explains.

Harriet whistles before shouting. "We're clear, guys! Come on out!"

People start to appear at the mountain tops, and before you know it, you're following these two girls through the mountains.

You get into another set of cars as they take you to the Right Arm base, which is a pretty big camp.

Harriet and Sonya give you all a run down of what's going on here- which is when you meet Vince.

He seems skeptical at first, which gets ten times worse when Brenda collapses and he threatens to shoot her. Though, a lady comes through revealing that Thomas actually released the location of all WCKD locations to the Right Arm.

So, she takes Thomas and Brenda away to give her a Flare buffer.

You stick with the boys, since you don't know anyone else, and end up chilling with them on a hill. Teresa vanishes and Aris goes to catch up with Harriet and Sonya.

"So," Frypan clears his throat as you sit on the ground, playing with Quest as he tries to get a stick you've found, "are you two like... together?"

Both you and Minho pause, looking at each other. And then, in sync, you both shrug, which then causes a wave of laughter.

"Do you wanna be together? We didn't exactly have that conversation," he asks you.

"Sure," you says simply.

"Cool," he turns to Frypan and grins, "I've got a shuckin' girlfriend."

Newt snorts. "We've been out of the Glade for a couple of days and you've bagged a girl?"

"What can I say? I'm just smooth."

"You're full of shit, Minho," you say, making the boys laugh.

"What? I am smooth."

"You almost had a panic attack when I touched your back."

The Gladers lose it. They're literally crying laughing as Minho desperately tries to defend himself.

The conversation progresses naturally, and it's moments like these that you wish you could've had in the Maze. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad then.

After a bit, Thomas finds you.

"I wish Alby could've seen all this," Newt says, having a sentimental moment.

"And Winston," Frypan adds.

"And Chuck." Thomas says as he looks down at a small wooden figure.

"He'd be proud of you, yanno, Tommy," Newt gives his friend a reassuring smile.

Frypan shouts Aris, who waves back, making you smile. "I kinda like that kid."

"Yeah," Minho says sarcastically, "still don't trust him though." You playfully shove him before he throws an arm over your shoulder, making Thomas and Newt smirk at each other.

It isn't every day they get to see Minho actually happy.

Thomas goes off to find Teresa, leaving you all to your own company once again as darkness starts to fall.

That's when it goes wrong.

You watch as Quest's ear perk up, making you look into the sky as you hear the buzzing of helicopters.

"Uh, guys," you stand up, the boys doing the same as one of them flies towards camp.

"(Y/N)! Get down!" Minho dives into you as a missile strikes the camp, sending fire and debris everywhere.

You scramble back to your feet. Watching the suffering and chaos unfolding, your legs move beneath you- these people need help.

"(Y/N)- shit!" Minho and the others follow you, running down the hill and joining Vince as he shoots from a machine gun.

You send Quest away, you trained him in the Maze to hide if needed- and if you don't get out of this, he could probably survive for months on the food left.

He passes Minho a gun, who is actually surprisingly capable of using it. Harriet also gives you a weapon, and you start shooting, too.

"Nice shot, babe."

"We are not going to be one of those couples that calls each other babe."

"Noted."

"Look out!" Newt shouts before a granade goes off, electricity completely paralysing you.

You're rounded up in the centre like cattle, forced on your knees in a line as a guard scans people's necks.

"A5, A6, A7," he scans your neck, pausing. "Uh, Sir?"

"What?" The silver haired man, who you're assuming is Janson, responds.

"This just says... X?"

Janson looks at the guard before his gaze falls to you.

"Well, (Y/N), aren't you meant to be dead?"

"Bet you'd like that, eh?" He grimaces.

The guard confirms that they'd rounded up pretty much everyone, and then Janson asks the question. "Where's Thomas?"

"Right here."

Thomas approaches with his arms up, and is swiftly punched in the stomach and forced to join the rest of you.

"Why didn't you run?" Minho asks him as you sit between the boys.

"I'm tired of running."

You watch as a Berg flies over head, its bright lights blinding you as it comes to land. The doors open, revealing a group of guards and Ava Paige.

She stops to talk to Janson, and then they start forcing people onto the Berg.

She comes to talk to Thomas, and then Teresa joins her side.

"What the hell?" Frypan says. "Teresa?"

"Wait, what's going on?" Newt asks.

"She's with them," Thomas explains bluntly, his voice full of pain as Minho looks at you.

You swallow. The boys would've never found you if Teresa hadn't have gone out of her way to save you.

"Since when?" Minho asks.

"Oh," Janson butts in, "Teresa's always had an evolved appreciation of the greater good. Since we restored her memories, it was only a matter of time."

"I'm sorry," she says, "I has no choice. This is the only way- we have to find a cure."

"She's right. This is all just a means to an end. You used to understand that, Thomas. No matter what you think of me, I am not a monster; I'm a doctor I swore an oath to find a cure. No matter the cost. I just need more time."

"More blood," the woman from before says from behind you.

"Hello, Mary," Ava greets her, "I hoped we'd meet again. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

"I'm sorry about a lot of things, too- but not this. At least my conscience is clear."

"So is mine."

A gunshot rings out as a bullet flies into Mary, leaving Vince screaming and grasping at her. Ava commands that people move as Janson puts his gun away.

Then Thomas elbows a guard in the face and pulls out a bomb.

Everyone goes into panic mode, with Teresa begging him to stop. "Thomas, please stop. I made a deal with them, they promised we'd be safe. All of us."

"And I'm supposed to trust you now?"

"It's true- it was her only condition." Ava interjects. She continues to try and convince him, with Janson even joining in.

But you'd rather die here than go with them. Moving towards the boy, the others follow.

"We're with you, Thomas," Newt says.

"Do it, Thomas," Minho says as he slips his fingers between yours.

"We're ready," Frypan agrees and Thomas looks at you.

You nod.

"We're not going back there, it's the only way."

Ava screams Thomas' name as he goes to press the trigger, only the be stopped by a loud beeping noise.

A truck slams into the side of one of the helicopters, sending debris flying as you all dive to the floor.

In the truck, Quest is with Jorge. So, two treats for Quest for getting help again, I guess.

A guard goes to attack Thomas and he lets off the explosive, diving to safety before getting knocked by Janson.

Who is promptly shot down by Brenda.

You all scramble, Minho finding a gun as you retreat to safety. Hiding behind a box, Minho stands guard.

And then he's shot. The shock of the Launcher leaves him defenseless.

"Minho!" You scream, both you and Thomas trying to get to the boy as he's dragged away, whilst the Gladers try and hold you back and keep you safe.

You're dragged backwards, watching them as they take Minho with them and the doors of the Berg closing, with him inside.

Gone.

The real damage is shown when morning comes.

The camp is destroyed and Vince makes plans to move you all to the Safe Haven.

You sit with Quest, listening in.

"I'm not going with you," you state.

"What?" Vince asks you.

"I'm going to find Minho- I've dealt with worse shit on my own. I'm going after him."

"She's right," Thomas nods at you. "I made a promise to Minho that I wouldn't leave him behind, I'm going after him, too."

The others try and talk you down, but it doesn't work, Jorge saying it's like suicide.

But Thomas has he mind made up, and so do you.

You're going to get him, even if it's on your own.

Bro omg this took so long. Ik the pacing is probably completely wack, but there were scenes that writing them fully out would take up even more space and my tumblr is already bugging out over this.

Part three should be out at some point soon, but we shall see if I stick to that.

I hope you kind of enjoyed lmao :)

#🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #tmr imagines #minho tmr x reader #minho maze runner #the maze runner

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aethon-recs · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! First I wanted to say: Thank you for all your hard work these these fic recommendations <3 There has been many I did not know of till you have shared them! So thank you so much!

Okay for the ask: Do you have any recommendations for creature fics for the tomarrymort boys? It can feature either or both of them being non-human. Thank you again for all your hard work, and I love seeing you on my dash!

Hi anon — thanks for your kind words. I’m really glad to hear there were a lot of fics rec'ed that you haven’t come across yet, that totally made my week!

In terms of creature fic recs, there’s quite a good number of them, so I will separate by category and will try to keep the descriptions short. Enjoy!

Tomarrymort Recs – Creature Fics

🐍 Naga / Snake

A Rather Useless Inheritance by Blood_Stained_Fingers (T, 28k, complete)

Harry comes into his Parseltongue inheritance. It’s rather less useful than he expected.

Renanthera by @zarasu (E, 6k, complete)

To brew a potion that could give someone the ability to talk to snakes, Harry would first need to find a bit of Basilisk blood. He stumbles on a powerful Naga instead.

Venom by @katsitting (M, 9k, complete)

Naga Voldemort lures Harry into her trap and has her way with him.

Venomous by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 4k, complete)

Sirius Black should know better than to set a Naga loose in a room full of people. Harry is the only one who happens to survive the Naga’s murder spree.

Viceroy by @vestiges-of-light (E, 7k, complete)

Harry will marry Voldemort to end the war. Harry also takes a potion that turns him into a Naga every night. This is hardly a problem for Voldemort.

worship at your altar by anon (E, 3k, complete)

Harry finds himself drawn to an old altar in the woods dedicated to the ancient Naga god Voldemort.

🩸 Vampire

Blood in the wine by @girl-with-goats (E, 31k, complete)

Tom Riddle achieves immortality by the means of vampirism. Enter young copper Harry Potter, fresh recruit from Scotland Yard, sent to investigate the mysterious disappearances of all the young men who uncannily look like him.

chiaroscuro by @cindle-writes (E, 7k, complete)

Immortal children are illegal. Harry makes one anyway.

effervescent by @duplicitywrites (M, 5k, WIP)

Sometimes a relationship is you (ie, Voldemort), the vampire brat you made (Tom), and his human blood bag boyfriend (Harry).

Family Dynamics by RenderedReversed (T, 1k, complete)

In which Harry is a dragon for hire, Voldemort is a vampire who is probably plotting world domination, Tom is a vampire hunter with a one-track mind, and they all live under the same roof.

found you sleeping in my coffin by @orangemoustache (M, 6k, complete)

Harry gets turned into a vampire. For better or worse, Tom is there to help.

Hinnom by rightonthelimit (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a member of an ancient vampire Pureblood family. To be even seen with a Spawn is punished with death. But he can’t help falling in love with Tom.

Hypnotic Kind of Dance by @acciotomriddle (E, 2k, complete)

In a club where humans willingly offer themselves to vampires in exchange for the high that comes from a bite, Harry meets an incredibly charming vampire named Tom.

Matriphagy by @being-luminous (M, 2k, complete)

For years now, Lord Voldemort has hunted Harry and his parents. First because of a prophecy, then… Then, for something else.

Not a Single Bite by @vdoshu (M, 2k, complete)

They’ve been at the restaurant for an hour and a half, but Harry hasn’t eaten a single bite. Tom is beginning to think that maybe their date isn’t going so well.

Scent of Death by @dividawrites (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort discovers a new, submissive side of himself when he feels Harry's teeth on his neck.

the little death by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 2k, complete)

"You brought a vampire into my study?" Voldemort asks, more tired than offended.

The Resurrectionist by @bluesundaycake (E, 12k, complete)

Tom (vampire) runs a nighttime coffee shop, and Harry (sleep-deprived human) is a regular customer and Tom thinks he is a vampire.

🧜‍♀️ Mermaid / Siren

Call of the Deep by @hikarimeroperiddle (E, 17k, complete)

Harry is a captain of a pirate crew. A dangerous siren that lurks in the deep seems to have set its eyes on Harry himself.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Siren Song by The_Fictionist (NR, 11k, complete)

Tom is a siren. He offers Harry a deal. "I'll help you out, and you get ten years to live on the surface. Then you're mine."

Undertow by @katsitting (M, 10k, complete)

Harry is a pirate. Voldemort is a siren that lures him in. “Harry. Come to me.”

we may sink and settle on the waves by @greenbriars (M, 22k, complete)

A retelling of The Little Mermaid, wherein Harry is Prince Eric, and Tom vies with Ginny for Harry’s affection.

🐺 Werewolf

the first full moon (part 1) / midnight snack (part 2) by @greenbriars (E, 4k, complete)

It's Harry's first full moon since he started dating a vampire.

🌟 Veela

Love at First Sight by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Voldemort rises from the cauldron with two dicks and a newfound Veela inheritance. Harry is mesmerized.

#tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #naga fic #vampire fic #mermaid fic #werewolf fic #veela fic

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 months ago

Text

Mike Peters

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 23, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 23, 2024

“There’s nothing sadder than an aging salesman trying to close one last deal,” MSNBC’s Ryan Teague Beckwith wrote on September 21. Beckwith went on to list seven of Trump’s most recent campaign promises, most delivered off the cuff at rallies, that are transparent attempts to close the deal with different groups of voters.

Trump is also threatening voters. On September 19, he told two Jewish audiences that he had not been “treated properly by voters who happen to be Jewish,” and that if he doesn't win the 2024 election, “the Jewish people would have a lot to do with a loss,” adding in that case, “Israel, in my opinion, will cease to exist within two years.” Opponents were quick to point out that these threats echo old antisemitic tropes scapegoating Jews. When Jake Tapper asked Arkansas senator Tom Cotton to comment on Trump’s statement on Sunday, Cotton’s answer brought small comfort: “Well, Jake, Donald Trump has been saying things like this for at least 11 months.”

Trump’s social media posts about women sounded both desperate and delusional. Trump has boasted of overturning the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision that recognized the constitutional right to abortion, but that loss is enormously unpopular. So he is caught between the reality that his white extremist evangelical base continues to support banning abortion while voters in a general election are just as adamant that they want abortion rights protected.

Trump insists that there was a driving popular demand for returning decisions about abortion to the states, but this is a lie; there was no such popular demand. And now a two-year lag in the commissions that study maternal death means that stories of women who died because the new laws deprived them of medical care are beginning to hit the news.

On Friday, news broke that maternal deaths in Texas skyrocketed after the state’s 2021 abortion ban, rising by 56% compared to an 11% increase across the rest of the nation. Just before midnight, Trump posted a rant that included his usual lie about after-birth executions:

“WOMEN ARE POORER THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO, ARE LESS HEALTHY THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO, ARE LESS SAFE ON THE STREETS THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO, ARE MORE DEPRESSED AND UNHAPPY THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO, AND ARE LESS OPTIMISTIC AND CONFIDENT IN THE FUTURE THAN THEY WERE FOUR YEARS AGO! I WILL FIX ALL OF THAT, AND FAST, AND AT LONG LAST THIS NATIONAL NIGHTMARE WILL BE OVER. WOMEN WILL BE HAPPY, HEALTHY, CONFIDENT AND FREE! YOU WILL NO LONGER BE THINKING ABOUT ABORTION, BECAUSE IT IS NOW WHERE IT ALWAYS HAD TO BE, WITH THE STATES, AND A VOTE OF THE PEOPLE - AND WITH POWERFUL EXCEPTIONS, LIKE THOSE THAT RONALD REAGAN INSISTED ON, FOR RAPE, INCEST, AND THE LIFE OF THE MOTHER - BUT NOT ALLOWING FOR DEMOCRAT DEMANDED LATE TERM ABORTION IN THE 7TH, 8TH, OR 9TH MONTH, OR EVEN EXECUTION OF A BABY AFTER BIRTH. I WILL PROTECT WOMEN AT A LEVEL NEVER SEEN BEFORE. THEY WILL FINALLY BE HEALTHY, HOPEFUL, SAFE, AND SECURE. THEIR LIVES WILL BE HAPPY, BEAUTIFUL, AND GREAT AGAIN!”

In North Carolina the core members of Lieutenant Governor Mark Robinson’s campaign staff resigned yesterday along with all but three members of the campaign staff—two spokespeople and a bodyguard—after the CNN report about Robinson’s offensive writings on a pornography website, including his declaration that he considers himself a “black NAZI,” and that he would like to own slaves. And yet the North Carolina Republican Party is openly defending Robinson. Today the Republican Governors Association announced it was not going to buy any more ad time in North Carolina, a potential disaster for Trump as well as Robinson.

Trump’s ability to command the Republicans appears to be waning. House Republican leadership has apparently accepted a deal to fund the government through December 20 without the addition of the voter suppression bill Trump wanted, and today Nebraska Republican state senator Mike McDonnell said he would not vote to change the way Nebraska allots its electoral votes so close to the election despite great pressure from Trump loyalists to do so.

Meanwhile, MyPillow executive Mike Lindell, a Trump loyalist, is using a neo-Nazi code to advertise his pillows for $14.88, a reference to the fourteen words “We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children,” and, since “H” is the eighth letter of the alphabet, a reference to “Heil Hitler.”

When the Trump campaign released a photo of the candidate with his grandchildren near him on a plane, Ron Filipkowski of MeidasTouch noted: “When he lets the grandkids near him on the plane for a photo op, that’s when you know he’s really panicking.” Today, Trump had an event stop at a grocery store in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, where he chatted with supporters. He handed a $100 bill to a customer and promised that “we’ll do that for you from the White House, all right?”

The election is not the only reason Trump might be worried. Shares of Trump media continue to fall, and his new crypto platform does not appear to be taking off. On Sunday he announced “the launch of our Official Trump Coins! The ONLY OFFICIAL coin designed by me—and proudly minted here in the U.S.A.,” but his other meme coins have lately aroused little interest in what seems to be an oversaturated market. Technology reporter Brian Krassenstein noted that the new coins cost $100, while the 1 ounce of silver in one costs $30. Veterans’ advocate Travis Akers pointed out on social media that less than 24 hours after Trump’s advertisement, the Jacksonville FBI office warned against collectible coin scams.

Trump’s wife, Melania Trump, is also looking for cash. On Wednesday, September 18, she released a video to advertise her forthcoming book. In the video, she said she stands “proudly behind my nude modeling work.” Since her nude photos were 100% not in the public conversation, her statement seemed designed to pump sales by suggesting there are nude photos of her in the book.

Today, Pamela Brown, Jeremy Herb, and Shoshana Dubnow of CNN reported that Trump’s most recent financial form reveals that Melania was paid $237,000 to appear at a campaign event in April, although it is not clear who cut the check for that appearance. The reporters say that such six-figure payments for her campaign appearances are not unusual, although payment for a spouse’s campaign appearances at all is highly unusual.

On Saturday, Trump said he would not debate Vice President Harris again, saying it was “too late” for another debate, although he then suggested he would be interested in doing one if the Fox News Channel broadcast it.

The Trump campaign is openly vowing to use federal forces against political opponents, but it is not clear the news is coming from Trump himself, so much as from those surrounding him. Vice presidential candidate Ohio senator J.D. Vance has doubled down on his insistence that a Trump administration will deport legal as well as undocumented immigrants.

His stand has earned him a rebuke from the editorial board of the Dayton [Ohio] Daily News, which expressed alarm at Vance’s lies about immigration and his evident belief that the ends justify the means. “History, of course, offers no shortage of atrocities committed when the truth is viewed as an inconvenient obstacle in your way,” the board wrote. It called Vance “an embarrassment not only to himself, but to Ohio.”

On Sunday, the “Trump Team” posted on social media that “As soon as I take office, we will immediately surge law enforcement to every city that is failing to turn over criminal aliens” and “bring down the full weight of the federal government on any jurisdiction that refuses to cooperate with ICE and Border Patrol.”

This threat is in keeping with Michael Schmidt’s report in the New York Times yesterday outlining how Trump used the criminal justice system to retaliate against those he saw as his enemies.

Bipartisan endorsements for Democratic candidates Vice President Kamala Harris and Minnesota governor Tim Walz continue to pile up. Today, three former chairs of the Maine Republican Party “enthusiastically” endorsed Harris.

After Teamsters president Sean O’Brien said the 1.3-million-member organization would not endorse either candidate in 2024, making the Teamsters the only one of the nation’s ten major unions not to endorse Harris, joint councils of the Teamsters have endorsed Harris and Walz on their own. These endorsements matter not only for votes, but also for get-out-the-vote efforts in crucial Midwestern states. Also crucial to Pennsylvania is today’s endorsement of Harris by members of the state’s Polish American community, who expressed concern that Trump would enable Russian president Vladimir Putin to invade Poland. There are 800,000 people of Polish descent in Pennsylvania.

On Sunday, a bipartisan group of 741 national security leaders—some of the biggest names in the field—endorsed Harris. “To the American People,” they wrote. “We are former public servants who swore an oath to the Constitution. Many of us risked our lives for it. We are retired generals, admirals, senior noncommissioned officers, ambassadors, and senior civilian national security leaders. We are Republicans, Democrats, and Independents. We are loyal to the ideals of our nation—like freedom, democracy, and the rule of law—not to any one individual or party.

“We do not agree on everything, but we all adhere to two fundamental principles. First, we believe America’s national security requires a serious and capable Commander-in-Chief. Second, we believe American democracy is invaluable. Each generation has a responsibility to defend it. That is why we, the undersigned, proudly endorse Kamala Harris to be the next President of the United States.

“This election is a choice between serious leadership and vengeful impulsiveness. It is a choice between democracy and authoritarianism. Vice President Harris defends America’s democratic ideals, while former President Donald Trump endangers them.

“We do not make such an assessment lightly. We are trained to make sober, rational decisions. That is how we know Vice President Harris would make an excellent Commander-in-Chief, while Mr. Trump has proven he is not up to the job.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Death of a Salesman #letters From An American #heather cox richardson #closing the deal #election 2024 #teamsters union #truth social #Mark Robinson #maternal death rate

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