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destinysbounty · 6 months ago

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hello i am here to make you talk about avery more. please answer at least 3 of the following:

what are three(+) songs you think describe avery?

what are three(+) songs you think avery would listen to?

who are the three canon characters she's closest to and why?

who are the three canon characters she dislikes most and why?

what's her favorite animal + has she ever had any pets?

if she existed in a no-powers/modern au, what job would she end up with?

what's her go-to drink at a restaurant? how about with at-home meals?

is she more of a morning person or night person or somewhere in-between?

how tall is she in comparison to the ninja?

if she had to fight one of the ninja, who would she pick and why?

(If anyone would like to see some really good art of the aforementioned OC Avery, alongside @oracleofdiscord's OC Estrella, check it out here!)

Who are the three canon characters she's closest to and why?

Lloyd: Avery is a time traveler from a post-apocalyptic timeline centuries into the future, where all the OG ninja are dead/gone and Lloyd is an old, wizened, and immortal ninja teacher. Future!Lloyd didn't like talking much about his past, not wanting to dwell on painful memories, so until she got thrown into the past Avery didn't even know any of the other ninja even existed in the first place. She had a pretty complicated relationship with future!Lloyd, struggling to connect with him on a deeper level due to both of them putting up emotional walls because of their respective traumas/baggage. But now that she's stuck centuries in the past and Lloyd is the only familiar face left in her life, Avery is making a much more concerted effort to connect with and understand him.

Pixal: Avery was thrown into the past circa s4, so she initially only knew Pixal as "that one AI chick that lives in Zane's head". But during s9, Avery joins the Resistance and becomes really close to the surviving ninja, Pixal especially. Her life lived in a post-apocalyptic future has given her the unique qualifications to know exactly how to survive in the wake of the SoG's insurrection, experience that proves vital to the Resistance's efforts. This put her and Pixal in a position of protecting the others, something that fostered a deep bond between them. Pixal would put up a strong front for Nya and Lloyd, but with Avery should could be vulnerable and open about her grief over "losing" Zane. And in turn, Avery opened up about her own losses and traumas as well. The two of them became extremely close during this time, and although she's never acted on it Avery may or may not be harboring an eensy-teensy crush on Pixal.

Jay: Avery and Jay...understand each other, so to speak. Both of them are victims of Nadakhan, both of them having learned the hard way how he can twist your hopes and dreams against you. Centuries after the Teapot of Tyrahn was lost, Avery foolishly tracked it down and used it to wish for an elemental power of her own (since she was insecure about being future!Lloyd's only student without powers). And since Nadakhan is an asshole, he gave her an incredibly broken power that causes her physical pain every time she uses it. That is to say, she can control/produce a highly corrosive acidic substance, but she isn't immune to its effects. And although she's learned how to control it in a way that minimizes the damage done to her body, it's still left a lot of scars on her hands and arms. Jay sought out her help as part of the Ninja Replacement Team, during which time she confided in him about the origins of her power (while leaving out the time travel stuff). Avery and Jay aren't exactly besties - their personalities are just similar enough for them to find each other extremely annoying - but they do also understand each other's trauma in a way that gives them a very profound connection. It also helps that, like Jay and Nya, Avery also remembers the erased pirate timeline. She would ideally be close to Nya for those same reasons, but the tiger widow venom looks visually very similar to Avery's acid and seeing Nya die from it was extremely disturbing to her. Avery's always been afraid of hurting people with her powers, hence why she tends to push people away, but with Nya that ambiguous fear feels a lot more real.

Who are the three canon characters she dislikes most and why?

Ronin: in the Shadow of Ronin video game, Ronin uses an artifact called the Obsidian Glaive to alter and erase memories, and even create false ones. Although it was destroyed during SoR, someone from Avery's future timeline was able to put it back together. One by one, Avery's friends and fellow students were warped, their minds twisted and manipulated by false memories, with the intent of turning Lloyd's own students against him, until only Avery was left. In fact, it was one of these memory-warped students that actually threw Avery into the past in the first place. During the events of SoR Ronin uses the Obsidian Glaive to give the ninja amnesia, and Nya calls Avery in to help with the situation. The moment she sees it in Ronin's hand, she kinda goes feral on him and tries to acid-splash his face off. Although they're able to keep the peace and work together when the situation calls for it, things are still extremely tense and awkward between the two of them.

Nadakhan: for reasons explained above, Avery really, really doesn't like Nadakhan. Her efforts to defeat him in the future were very similar to Jay's efforts in s6, and the entirety of Skybound absolutely decimates her mental health because of it. Avery doesn't have many fears, but she's absolutely terrified of Nadakhan.

Time Twins: at the end of s7 they got lost in a time stream, and ended up far in the distant future - the same future Avery comes from. They are what caused that world to become a post-apocalyptic wasteland, and also restored the Obsidian Glaive to use against Lloyd and his students. They're the ones who turned Avery's friends against her, which likewise resulted in her getting thrown into the past. But since she never told the ninja about her origins, they didn't think to clue her in to their adventures during s7. When she found out after the fact that they'd fought the Time Twins without her, she got really upset about her missed opportunity. To this day, she still fantasizes about getting her revenge on the Twins.

If she had to fight one of the ninja, who would she pick and why?

As mentioned above, she and Jay are extremely similar - similar personalities, temperaments, traumas, tendencies to cope with humor...but the problem is, they're a bit too similar. And because of this, they are very good at annoying each other. She would fight Jay without hesitation, especially during his late-season uwu softboi era. She can and will throw hands with him at the slightest provocation, and he feels much the same about her.

Thanks for the ask!

#listen i recognize that a lot of averys backstory sounds very reminiscent of DR #but i promise i came up with this before DR was released #and hey maybe one day i might retcon this backstory entirely and just make her one of lloyds DR-era students #ninjago #ninjago oc #oc: avery #destiny post

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micechicken · 7 months ago

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Hii! I have some OC asks. Let me know if this is too many. Have a nice day/night! :]

Seven Candles: What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Mary Ary: What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Bea Berg: How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Flick: What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Seven is a Pathfinder OC so naturally she has an arsenal. She's a Rouge with the Mind Smith archetype which means she can summon a weapon with her mind through concentration. She earned this ability during her study at the Magaambya and almost always uses it. I have yet to draw it but it's a knife of a purple hue with a watery texture to is. It also has the ability to add salt to a wound as she enchanted it with ruins that took the ability of her old weapon, a cutlass she stole from a pirate. This ability is more for flair as it doesn't' really cause damage. She also carries a short bow (with arrows, some of which are poisonous), a dagger, and her claws. Also as a stealth fighter you rarely see her coming but it will HURT (thanks to the bonuses that rouges have due to her acrobatic abilities and stealth).

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Mary is rather young so that's not a lot she's experienced. But she comes from a very large family of enchanted mice whom she's strayed from after joining the main cast. They often butted heads with her due to her adventurous nature and desire to go to the people. Her parents often reprimanded her for "seeking danger" and her siblings often find her weird or foolish. Often times she wishes to go back to them but more often is happy she found her own family who appreciates her for who she is. As the youngest of the cast (Sparky and Tiger are considered young adults as they are cats/Inkets, Mary is technically human) she struggles a lot with the difficulties that the group faces as the story goes and finds some of it rather traumatic but struggles to go to others for comfort due to her family. In other words, probably the treatment her family gave her.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Bea is rather docile compared to the rest of the cast. He has a tendency to freeze up when encountering opposition or using his words to get out. Especially at the story of when we first meeting him he's rather directionless other than caring for Mushi. Often he chooses the most peaceful option in any situation to the point he starts to be come a peace keeper for many alien species. This is a huge contrast to Chez/Charlie who is more aggressive and a fighter, often using violence or killing to get what he wants. It's not that Bea doesn't learn how to fight when peace isn't an option but it's usually the others that handle that. Over time he learns to be more demanding with what he wants, any previous instance of this is rare or an act he puts on. Even during the story his goal is mostly peacekeeping and just doing what others want from him in order to get things over with.

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

There's two main ones I can think of.

The first is to never come across Nick or to let him go when he escapes. In both variations she would stay home with her family and never learn of magic or the truth of her home. She'd still struggle with interactions with others and feel like an outcast due to bullying, but she'd be there for her mom as she deals with cancer. It's also questionable how wizards and faie will fair especially if Nick doesn't grow as a person because of Flick.

The second would to end up on Huxley's side, either through believing him or by coming across him before others. She'd instead learn magic through him and not Nick and would definitely still want to learn magic in order to help her mom get better. If things went Huxley's way Faie would go extinct, but if she felt guilt she would probably change sides. Nick would also almost immediately by captured by Huxley in this scenario as he'd be found with Flick.

#ask #esteebarnes94 #it's okay to send as many as you want it won't annoy me I love blabbing about my OCs #I tried to refrain from certain spoilers while making things clear for the story

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valiantthearts · 2 months ago

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― THE EMERGENCE OF PINK .

Pink has always existed with Vi, Pink is Vi's darkest nature, the aggressive enraged tiger. The one that wants to fight, likes to fight, and is thrilled by the damage she can cause by the power of her hands. She doesn't care about power for money or fame or any arrogant connection: Vi's power is the strength she uses to protect herself or those she cares about. However, in Stillwater, Vi has no one to protect but herself.

There are multiple different reasons why Vi is so aggressive and inclined to rage. One is the PTSD that she has gone through, which has made her anger snap at even the quickest of situations whether voiced words or actions. She has Survivor's guilt and with the PTSD, caused angry outbursts she had no control over her anger. Vander saw these problems, and so he worked on finding ways to positively handle her aggressive tendencies that would snap out like a crocodile in the water. IT WORKED! Vi had more self-control and constructively worked through it. She could maintain Pink while still being a young child.

Until Stillwater.

Here, Vi had no way to constructively control her rage, wrath, and aggression. For months, Vi tried! She kept to herself, she would take out her aggression in her room and beat at the wall. She would use the pipes to exercise, doing pull-ups and hanging on them to do sit-ups in the air. She would do push-ups on the floor and against the wall, she took everything Vander had taught her to maintain her control. But Vi was heartbroken as well, she had lost EVERYTHING and blamed herself because she abandoned her sister (even though she had been captured by Marcus which was not her abandoning but she perceived it this way). Vi would wait til the darkness where she would bury herself in her arms and cry because it was the only time when the darkness hid her pain and heartache. She was scared, alone, and traumatized. Her dreams were nightmares, of Silco, of Vander dying in her arms, of hearing his heartbeat stop, seeing Mylo and Claggor in the blood and the shimmer mosterous hounds over her. Sometimes her nightmares would show Powder laughing with the dead bodies, standing on top of them holding the little bunny. Powder held up her fingers pointing at Vi and telling her 'It's all her fault'. Every night was riddled with nightmares and caused Vi to spiral even more.

Vi had been in a cell by herself for a year, trying to cause no trouble for anyone and formulating how to get out of Stillwater. One day, she was assigned a cellmate, which was the breaking point for Vi. This man taunted the young woman, poking at the beast. Vi could see the animal of his, amused that this massive man who towered over her had a tiny raccoon for his vastaya heritage. Her tiger snapped and snarled at the raccoon, as Vi would glare at the man. (this is about Vi's ability to see vastaya animals like they are real; refer to her gemstone power headcanon).

It was the mention of Silco that caused Vi to snap. She had shoved him against the wall and demanded to know what he knew and to find out about Powder. She racked her claws, demanding more information. Bloody fingers and anger as she snapped her jaws and he growled and told her Powder with Silco. Powder was nothing more than a toy. He knew he was pressing buttons, he wanted to piss off Vi. He had no idea what he was unleashing. It led to an all-out brawl and Vi completely released her inner beast and rage. There was no one to stop her, no one to protect. This was Vi in her angriest and most wrathful state. She didn't hold back, whereas Vi had controlled her anger upon the bridge to protect Vander, Claggor, and Mylo; in prison, she had no reason to hold back.

In the end, the man was a mangled mess of death, with a cracked skull, torn-up face, and shattered ribs with a broken arm. She didn't even have time to process when an enforcer came into the room and she immediately lashed out at her, slashing and fighting her only to snap her neck with a powerful clamp of her arms that broke her spine.

Before Vi had a moment to realize what she had done, it was too late. At that point, Vi found Pink, the darkest part of her mind of rage and aggression that she finally let loose. This was Vi's first charge of Manslaughter, as she had to struggle for months to realize what she was becoming, what she was letting loose. And over the years, it became worse. Vi at first feared this, but over the years, she was forced to slowly accept the fact.

Vi was Pink, and it was the only way to survive in this cruel environment.

#[ vi headcanons ] — i cannot lose you too .

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zauntigress · 3 months ago

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― THE EMERGENCE OF PINK .

Until Stillwater.

Vi was Pink, and it was the only way to survive in this cruel environment.

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inkykeiji · 4 years ago

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beautiful when the damage is done

part one | part two

characters: todoroki touya | dabi, todoroki natsuo

genre: smut laced with angst and a pinch of fluff

notes: part two of getting naughty with natsuo!! please please heed the warnings!! | title cred: sick thoughts by lewis blissett

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, sadism, punishment via overstimulation, pseudo-incest (stepcest), vaguely implied incest, emotional manipulation, a hint of degradation, toxic relationships, poly relationship, dom/sub dynamics, a LOT of crying (dacryphilia), slight size kink/size difference, rough sex

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

And you’re both reminded of how privileged you are, being the only two who ever get to witness this side of him, the only two who are fortunate enough to see the person he might’ve been if you stripped away years upon years of trauma and abuse, the person he truly is at the core of his soul, the person he was born as before he was forced to layer himself with thick, protective walls of aggression coated in indifference—and the person who he becomes as he sheds that armor, in the middle of the night when it’s just the three of you, the whole world having fallen away outside the bedroom door.

It’s musty, air thick with the haze of sweat and sex, saturated the smell of tears and cum, so potent you swear you can almost see it in the atmosphere of Touya’s room. Uncontrollable quivers course through your entire body, never-ending chills erupting across bare, damp skin that shines every time it catches in the dim beams coming from Touya’s desk lamp.

Your scalp is still sore from where Touya yanked you off of Natsuo—back in the living room, how many hours ago? It feels as though it’s been forever since then, memory murky and swimming as you try to think—one strong hand wrapped in your hair jerking you up with such force you nearly stumbled. The pain is dull, a throbbing ache that radiates fading waves of hurt along your skull.

It’s constant, though, brewing a headache that is equal parts agony and dehydration, and you wish to rub at the spot, to place your palm over it in a futile attempt to soothe the discomfort at least a little, but you can’t.

Because it feels as if your blood has been replaced with sand, dense and heavy as it clogs your veins, weighing your arms down and keeping them firmly locked around Natsuo’s neck, steadying you in his lap.

But the ache in your scalp is nothing compared to the burn between your legs.

You can feel it, your third orgasm, churning in the depths of your stomach as it builds, a blistering warmth furling into a tight, concentrated ball of fire. It’s almost sickening, now, the heat roiling inside of you as heavy as lead, wracking destruction on your body as tender muscles, already quaking from exhaustion, begin to tense once more, to coil and wind up the way a lithe tiger does right before it strikes.

“Nat-Natsuo, I can’t,” the words wobble as they spill from between clattering teeth, you head shaking sluggishly as fresh tears sting your eyes.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs softly to you, gentler than he’s ever been before but refusing to slow his movements as he bounces you on his cock, concerned stone eyes searching your face while his fingers flex on your hips, readjusting their grip on the slippery skin.

“You better,” Touya spits from his place on his bed, peering down at the two of you with something akin to disgust, to derision, saturating his features. And it stings, blazing sapphire searing his glare into your skin much like how he had carved his name into you, years ago.

A wet sob hitches in time with Natsuo’s rough thrusts, has you choking on it, concentrated with thick saliva that sticks in your throat and forces your breaths to escape in wheezes, hands clasping tighter behind Natsuo’s neck.

Yet, despite the pain, there are still sparks of pleasure that accompany each catch of your puffy clit on Natsuo’s slick skin, flickers of lust interspersed with those excruciating spikes that shoot through your abdomen.

It hits suddenly, that third orgasm—you’re halfway through your punishment now, Touya reminds you—has your tightly shut eyelids springing open with a gasp, entire body freezing up in Natsuo’s strong grasp, a grunt falling from his chapped lips as he drives his hips to piston into your rigid body.

He follows only a few moments later with a deep groan that rumbles in his chest, body vibrating with the force of it as his thick cock throbs, filling your little cunt with spurt after spurt of cum that feels almost cool in comparison to your scalding insides.

Touya allows half hour breaks between each orgasm—a short refraction period for you and Natsuo to regain infinitesimal amounts of strength—and not a second more, he had spit after the second orgasm, cutting off your plea for just a few more moments of rest, because this is plenty of time, more than you need, really and you should be grateful he’s so generous.

By the time you’re due for your fourth orgasm, you can barely move, and Natsuo doesn’t have the arm strength to hold you up anymore, to force your hips to keep gyrating or to bounce you on his cock, his entire upper half spent.

“Lay her on the floor, then,” Touya instructs coldly, voice firm and void of any compassion, though it’s hard to miss the sadistic glint in his eyes, hard to ignore the way the corners of his lips quirk up in an ill-concealed smile.

The look Natsuo gives him is almost heartbreaking, a puppy looking up at its owner with its tail tucked between its legs, eyebrows knitted together so tightly they crease his forehead, a deep frown—no, pout—etched into his face as he gazes at his big brother, glazed stone eyes pleading.

“Nii-san, can’t we use—”

“No,” Touya cuts him off harshly, sapphire eyes flashing, and Natsuo flinches. “You’re fucking her on the Goddamn floor for all five—it’s part of your punishment,”

Natuso doesn’t argue, but his lips twitch, and his eyes blur, and his nose sniffles, and he gives his brother a curt little nod of understanding, head bowed in submission.

The hardwood is cold against your heated skin, and you exhale a hiss through gritted teeth as Natsuo positions you as gently as he can, one large palm cradling your head, the other positioned on your back, slight tremors running through his exhausted muscles as he reclines you.

A wrecked little whine pries its way past your lips as Natsuo pushes in again, face scrunching up as sharp, needle-like pinpricks shoot through your gut, your raw, sensitive cunt stinging as Natsuo’s cock reopens previous sutures, skin split further, wounds dug deeper.

The sound your skin makes as it scrapes against the hardwood from Natsuo’s clumsy bucks has all three of you cringing, a piercing squeal that only adds to the symphony of your sobs and Natsuo’s grunts, flesh inflamed and chaffed from being repeated rubbed against the surface.

It’s getting harder and harder for you to cum, even with the generous breaks Touya allows, sparks of pleasure faded to mere cinders now, each shallow drag of Natsuo’s cock causing both of your bodies to recoil, and it’s too much, too much.

“Please, nii-chan,” you beg in a tiny whimper, teary eyes flying to Touya’s face, partially shrouded in shadows as glowing sapphire gazes down at you in scrutiny. “S’enough now,”

“We’ve learned our lesson, p-promise,” Natsuo adds, nodding frenetically.

“P-Pinky promise, nii-chan, please, stop,”

Touya scoffs. “You wanted to cum, didn’t you?” he pauses, cobalt eyes darting between your faces, an eyebrow raising in question. “Well, now I’m allowing you to. Now you have my permission; the permission you knew you needed so bad, but refused to request,”

And it’s then that it dawns on each of you that he had heard the both of you, had heard the entire fucking conversation, while he was doing his work in the kitchen.

How could either of you thought that he wouldn’t? How could either of you been so fucking stupid? Nii-san knows everything—nii-san always knows everything.

“Please, please, we’re sorry, nii-san, we’re sorry,”

“We won’t ever do it again!”

The laugh that claws its way up Touya’s throat is soaked with ridicule, and he shakes his head, a gleeful little grin present on his lips, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing, as if it’s so ludicrous it’s funny.

“Wait, wait, wait—let me get this straight…you two wanted it so bad, and now you have the balls to complain when nii-chan complies?”

His voice is painfully apathetic, almost nonchalant in a way, as if it makes no difference to him even though it so clearly does, or you and Natsuo wouldn’t be shivering messes of tangled limbs on the floor.

Excuses begin tumbling from two pairs of lips, words stuttered and choked on and sandwiched between pleads and apologies, jumbling together in a mess of garbled, wet, desperate sounds.

“Enough,” Touya growls, and both voices cut off in an instant. “I don’t want to fucking hear it anymore! Keep acting like ungrateful little brats and I’ll make this punishment longer, I swear to God,”

But you can’t halt the words bubbling up past your lips, regardless of Touya’s threat, regardless of the fact that you know he’s deadly serious. They’re compulsive, automatic, almost instinctual in nature as you seek out comfort, hunt for solace and fragments of relief in the hulking man blanketing you.

“I-I don’t wanna anymore, Natsuo,” you’re weeping into his chest, hot tears leaking from the corners of tightly shut eyes, streaming down the sides of your head and into your hair. “I don’t wanna,”

“I know, baby, I know,” Natsuo murmurs, though his bottom lip is beginning to tremble.

“Make him stop, Natsuo, make nii-chan stop,”

“I can’t,” his voice breaks on the word, facial features saturated in concern, in fear, wincing as if it physically pains him to deny you. “You know I would if I could,” he nearly whimpers, and his eyes search yours almost frantically, as if he’s begging you to understand. “But I can’t,”

But your head is shaking as you wail louder, fingers weakly curling against his skin, nails pressing into the flesh of his shoulders and clinging to him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Natsuo’s saying, the words cracking in his throat, voice hoarse. He pauses, clearing it twice, eyes closing briefly as he sighs out a slow, deep, stammering breath, gathering his strength. “One more after this, princess,” he begins as his hips start to speed up their rutting, procuring a yelp from you. “That’s it, jus’ one more after this one. C’mon, we can do it,”

“No, no, no,” you chant as pretty, gleaming tears roll down your face. And you can see it, the potent guilt swirling in his gunmetal eyes, from the way his pupils expand as they focus on the salt water sullying your cheeks, from the way his cock twitches despite it all. “I don’wanna, I don’wanna, stop, Natsuo, stop,”

His motions pause immediately, the moment the word falls from your lips, but he starts up just as quickly as Touya dictates from his spot on the mattress above.

“Stop, and I’ll add another two,” he promises, ruthless and unforgiving. Chills skitter along your glistening skin, erupting across your damp body at his tone. Both of you know he isn’t bluffing, that he’ll add as many orgasms as he wants to, and that he’ll continue to pull them from your fatigued and worn-out bodies one way or another, even if he has to do it completely by himself.

“Focus on me,” Natsuo instructs gently, though there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, a frenzied need to calm you down before Touya loses his patience completely. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Just focus on me, look at me,”

So you do, blinking the bleariness from your gaze as you direct all of your attention to him. And although there’s that ever-present guilt still swimming in his irises, in his unshed tears, there’s also love in his stare, so much love it’s nearly overflowing, overpowering the remorse and instilling a deep sense of comfort in your stammering chest.

Because at least you’re not alone in this; at least you have each other—each other to find comfort in, to cry and whine and beg with, to protect.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s whispering over your wails like a broken mantra, those tears that have been glazing his eyes, that have been collecting behind his lashline, finally beginning to fall.

His hips speed up, as fast as he possibly can as he gathers every last ounce of power and manages to wring another one out of you, another one out of himself, sore cunt clenching painfully around him, your fourth orgasm feeling as if it’s been punched out of you, despite the fact that Natsuo’s thrusts have been shallow.

And by the time your fifth orgasm rolls around, you’re nothing more than Jell-o in the shape of a human, though Natsuo’s not much better, barely able to move other than the uneven rutting of his hips, a crushing deadweight on top of you as his weary hips give pitiful little thrusts, pubic bone dragging across your hypersensitive clit, every tug against it ripping another ragged cry from your throat.

But you’re having trouble, both of you struggling to do anything other than feebly hump against each other, unable to secure enough strength to pump—to milk—that final orgasm out of yourselves, sniveling little protests punctuated by wrecked sobs leaking from your mouths.

Touya’s pissed—beyond pissed—sharp jaw clenching while seething insults burn his tongue and slice your skin, berating the both of you for being so fucking weak, so fucking pathetic, because he’s forced more orgasms out of the both of you before, so why is this so fucking difficult?

Touya’s too stubborn, and he refuses to end the punishment early irrespective of the fact that you’re both entirely drained, reminding you in a callous voice that you each must cum five times before it’s over while he aggressively roots through one of his desk drawers, snickering to himself when he finds what he’s looking for, hooking his index finger in it and pulling it out.

And the look on his face when he turns back to face you and Natsuo is positively petrifying, idly swinging the cockring around on his finger as his head tilts slightly, observing the both of you with that sharp smile you’ve come to know so well on his lips, eyes glittering with pure delight, features lit up with his own personal brand of sadistic excitement.

Natsuo starts to say something, voice forming around a word that sounds suspiciously similar to no, but he catches himself before it fully leaves his mouth, pressing quivering lips together tightly as he stares up at his brother with wet eyes.

Touya chuckles, raising an eyebrow with that trademark lopsided smirk, as if he’s challenging Natsuo to dispute him, to resist.

He doesn’t, of course, because he never would, but he does finally allow full shuddery sobs to escape his chest, Touya’s condescending shh’s and hush, now’s doing nothing to calm them as he slides the cockring on.

Natsuo nearly howls when Touya turns the tiny, pretty pink device on, his entire body jerking with that initial vibration.

“The faster you cum, the faster I’ll take it off,” Touya says calmly over the stifled little shrieks Natsuo’s continulously trying to swallow back down, nodding his understanding as he repositions himself between your thighs, holding his vibrating cock in one massive palm as he guides himself back into you.

And you want to tell him no!, don’t!, stop!, you want to shove him off, to kick and scream and beg and cry, but your heavy head sluggishly lolling from side to side seems to be all you can manage, words snagging in your throat, nothing more than incoherent babbling leaving your lips.

Because you can barely speak, barely think, barely breathe, vision fading in and out of focus as Natsuo rocks stuttering hips against yours, warm salt water rolling down the bridge of his nose, dripping onto your cheeks and mixing with yours. You’re both more each other, more one than two separate entities now, spit and cum and tears so interspersed you can’t tell which belongs to who anymore, limbs and fluids, thoughts and sounds, endlessly flowing into one another.

“Tell her to behave, Natsuo,” Touya barks, though there’s twisted amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes. “Tell her to finish the fucking punishment,”

And Natsuo, ever the perfectly trained pet, does as he says immediately.

“We can—We can do it,” Natsuo keens from above you, full body shudders wracking his hulking form, alabaster hair clinging to his forehead in uneven clumps, drenched in sweat as he forces words through his own bawling, hips grinding into yours. “We can do it, let’s be good for nii-san, yeah? L-Let’s make nii-san proud—c’mon, you wanna make him proud, don’t you?”

You do—of course you do. You never want anything else. But…But you’re not entirely sure you can, hiccupped sobs peppering your slurred words. Unconsciousness tugs at the edges of your hazy mind, whispers enticing promises of repose and relaxation as weighted eyelids begin to sag.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Natsuo cuts you off gently, shaky knuckles brushing against your cheek in a poor imitation of a caress. “I’ll do it, baby, I’ll do it,”

You don’t even remember cumming a fifth time, only a feeling of hot coals smoldering in the pit of your stomach, but you must have, because then Touya’s hooking his arms under Natsuo’s and dragging him off of you, propping him up against the side of the bed and kneeling as lithe fingers remove the toy from his cock.

And the sense of relief that seeps into your body and floods your veins is so intense it almost feels like a rush of adrenaline instead. You did it. You both did it. Finally, it is over.

Or so you and Natsuo thought.

—

Spikes of fear piece through his heart as Natsuo blearily watches Touya gather your limp body in his arms, hauling you up with a soft grunt.

And it’s astounding, the way you still curl into him, still seek that familiarity, that solace, in his chest, mumbled out honorific padded by hitched half-sobs as you cling to him. It’s astounding, because even after all he’s done to you, after everything he just put the two of you through, you will crawl back to him each and every time, over shards of glass on your hands and knees with his name on your lips—his name in devotion, in submission, in love—without a single question asked.

And Natsuo realizes that he would, too.

The thought inspires a bittersweet taste to settle on his tongue, like sticky toffee and black coffee, alien feelings swirling in his chest, clashes of consoling blooms of warmth and spiky shards of ice.

But Natsuo doesn’t have time to meditate on his newfound emotions, your faint pleas recapturing his attention.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Touya murmurs, large hands repositioning you.

And he really does sound sorry, even though Natsuo knows he isn’t.

“Wh-What are you…”

“It isn’t over yet,” Touya says simply, though the smile stretched taut across his face is severe, terrifying, azure eyes sparkling in merciless amusement at the horror that shows on Natsuo’s face when he realizes, eyes widening as they fill with thick tears again, bottom lip jutting out into an involuntary pout as panic surges through his veins.

His heart palpitates violently against his ribcage, tongue turned to cotton as worry signs itself in the creases of his forehead.

“Nii-san,” Natsuo begins cautiously, trying in vain to keep his voice steady. “I don’t think—I-I mean, is that really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” his big brother responds without looking at him, preoccupied with folding your lifeless limbs up, knees bent and pressed to your chest.

“Why?” the word slips out without Natsuo’s permission, grey eyes widening in shock as he swallows thickly, shaking his head a little as if to say I didn’t mean to!, though Touya doesn’t seem to mind.

“Because the overstimulation was her punishment,” Touya glances over at him, the amusement dancing in his eyes turned vicious as his smile stretches wider—so wide Natsuo’s surprised it doesn’t split his face clean in two—cruel and brutal. “This is yours,”

Natsuo isn’t quite sure he understands, brain doused in a thick fog and having difficulty grasping the concept, the knowledge of what his nii-san truly means turning to dense, ashy smoke any time he tries to grasp it, metaphorically slipping through his fingers.

But then you’re speaking again, and Natsuo’s head whips towards you, chest tightening at how completely wrecked you sound.

“No, please, no more,” the words gurgle in your throat, escaping as nothing more but jumbled, spit-soaked whines that have Touya chuckling as he shoves his cock into your aching little hole.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, princess,” he speaks through a patronizing pout, a mockery of your own expression, voice syrupy and supercilious. “If you weren’t such a needy little whore always desperate for a hard cock to grind on, this wouldn’t be happening,”

The words are spit in the same demeaning tone Touya had been using earlier, the same demeaning tone he always uses, and Natsuo’s powerless to stop the words flowing from his mouth.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures you, though his voice cracks under the emotion, words wavering as his chin trembles.

“You’re right,” Touya muses, slight breathlessness the only indication that he’s railing the absolute life out of you. “It’s yours,”

And suddenly, Natsuo understands what nii-san had meant when he said this was his punishment.

Because he’s right.

It’s got to be the harshest punishment Touya’s ever bestowed on him.

Because it’s hard to watch the way your lax, abused body is forced to just take it, Touya’s thrusts so rough they jostle you up the mattress; even harder to hear as you bawl and beg and scream, and Natsuo’s nose twitches as the threat of new tears climbs up his throat, lodging in the column as he fights against them.

He feels sick, like some sort of depraved pervert, for the weak twitches his cock gives, for the faint embers that flicker in the pit of his stomach, igniting a dull blaze as he watches, almost entranced by the grotesque situation unfolding in front of him. He feels sicker, knowing that both of those would be stronger, much stronger, had Touya not forced him to fuck his entire soul into you.

And Touya—Well, Touya’s been hard from it all—high from it all—the whole time, and Natsuo can almost see the sheer power flowing through his veins, an aura that envelopes him, that radiates off of him in intoxicating waves, that licks at his skin like flames of blue fire. Natsuo bets—no, knows— it’s better than any drug Touya’s ever taken.

Protests marinate on his tongue, bitter and acidic, pleads of stop and enough scraping against the walls of his throat as he forcefully swallows them back down, emitting pathetic little whimpers in their place.

Because he knows if he starts, Touya will only make it worse for you, so he suffers in silence, readily agreeing with Touya every time he reminds Natsuo that this is all his fault and neither of you would be in pain if Natsuo could’ve just kept it in his fucking pants for a few minutes longer.

It hurts, because it’s true, nii-san’s words sending thick, piercing stakes spearing through Natsuo’s heart, through Natsuo’s very soul, straight to the core of his body. Acrid bile climbs up his throat as Touya’s moans mingle with your sobs, so exhausted that they’re barely more than little wheezes at this point. It’s abundantly clear that Touya doesn’t feel a shred of remorse, and that makes Natsuo feel even worse—if only he had said no, if only he had waited and asked, if only he had been stronger, you wouldn’t be suffering.

The tears collecting in the column of his throat sprout talons and claw their way up, past his steadily weaking resolve, prying their way through his lips in the form of jagged sobs.

It’s magnificent, really, the way Touya can render Natsuo a snotty, shivering mess with only a few choice words. And Natsuo—Natsuo only ever cries in front of his big brother, only ever cries for his big brother, full-on weeping that slashes through his sputtering chest, coughing around and choking on his own sobs of nii-san, I’m sorry!

But it ends eventually, finally, Touya tearing one last orgasm from you, gentle words contradicting his cruel, ruthless actions, murmurs of come on baby, just one more, one more for nii-chan. You can do this for nii-chan, can’t you? You can be a good little girl for me and cum one more time, right? lingering on his lips

And somehow, you find the strength to obey, to be his good baby, because you always do, entire body convulsing with a raspy shriek of the honorific, Touya praising you only moments later as his hips still and his cock pumps you full.

—

It’s cute, really, how fucked out the two of you are. Touya thinks you’re both so beautiful when you’re like this, with glassy eyes and tearstained cheeks, lashes clumped together with residual water and swollen faces stained with streaks of salt, all dazed and fucked and stupid for him, from him.

Natsuo’s doing better than you are, of course—Natsuo wasn’t subjected to being fucked again. But Natsuo still needs to rest, Touya softly tutting his tongue with a disapproving shake of his head as Natsuo attempts to aid him with your aftercare, movements clumsy as he stumbles to his feet, inept and awkward as he blunders towards you.

“No,” Touya’s large hands wrap around his younger brother’s shoulders, halting him, steadying him, forcing Natsuo to look at him. “You rest,” he instructs sternly, guiding Natsuo back to his previous spot and delicately depositing him onto the desk chair. “I’ll get to you in a minute, okay, Natsuo-kun?”

Natsuo hums out an affirmation, eyes closing briefly as Touya’s fingertips affectionately trace the curve of his cheek, palm patting it once.

It’s in moments such as these, nights after hours and hours of extreme punishment, that Touya automatically, perhaps unknowingly, slips into Big Brother mode, and you’re reminded of the age gap between them.

Because even though Natsuo’s bigger than Touya, taller than Touya, beefier than Touya, he looks so tiny under his older brother’s protective gaze.

You both must reek terribly, covered in drool and sweat and cum, must look like hot messes, strands of tangled hair saturated with salt and sticking to your cheeks, but your Touya-nii is still right there regardless, whispering the sweetest affirmations and the tenderest praises to the both of you as he wipes each of you down with a damp cloth infused with lavender, telling the both of you how good you did, how proud you made nii-san, how pretty both of you are.

Nimble fingers spend a decent amount of time rubbing soothing circles of moisturizing cream into each of you, your most sensitive skin rubbed raw, aching and puffy from such intense maltreatment, before Touya-nii dresses each of you in his softest, comfiest clothes, steady stream of pure, unadulterated love never stopping as it pours from his lips.

You’re all each other need, after all; because he loves you both more than he could ever put into words—and you each love him back just the same—and that will always be more than enough.

Touya reaches across your body, arm a pleasant, heavy weight as it rests on you, and runs slender fingers through Natsuo’s sweaty hair as you snuggle into your nii-chan’s chest, and Natsuo nearly mewls, nuzzling into his nii-san’s touch as Touya instructs the both of you to sleep, now, a film playing softly in the background as the three of you drift into unconsciousness together.

#todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #natsuo smut #todoroki natsuo x reader #AAAAAAAH jesus finally #this is A Lot lol #tw:incest #tw noncon

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chuuyrr · 3 years ago

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venom

tokyo revengers x reader

masterlist of the series

chapter three. queen shit

warning(s): anime/manga spoilers, strong language, mentions of violence, assault and blood

not proofread! also, tysm for the positive feedback, i'm glad you guys are enjoying this series <3

oh, and since this is a fic—i changed a lot of things.

you couldn't sit still after yesterday's events. not only did the entire school think you were dating toman's commander, but you were more pissed at the gang that assaulted the woman you rescued.

you wondered what would have happened you hadn't arrived on time. she might have ended up as a dead woman. as you promised to yourself, you headed to the hospital where she was admitted to visit her.

you weren't wearing a facemask nor your oversized jacket today since it got stained with blood. because of that, the patches and bandages on your arms and face were exposed.

there was a lot of interrogation done by your teachers and your friend, rie, during your classes earlier. they bombarded you with questions as to what happened to you and somehow you convinced them that you fell from the stairs.

it was a stupid excuse, but they were more stupid because they actually believed you.

you might be a ferocious and unrelenting young woman with the strength of a tiger, but that doesn't mean you were invisible. you were still human, you get hurt and you bleed.

you stood outside the hospital room of the woman you had saved. you sighed to yourself, slid onto the floor and stressfully ran your fingers through your [color] hair.

god, you hated this.

this poor girl didn't deserve to be in this kind of state and those vile men deserved more than just a beating.

"[name]?" you lifted your head at the familiar voice.

you averted your gaze and saw mikey with draken across the white corridor. as soon as their eyes fell upon the patches and bandages on your face and arms, they immediately bolted towards you in concern.

"what are you doing here? who did this to you?" you watched as mikey took hold of your arms, examining the damage you dealt.

you yanked your arms from his grasp and scoffed, "i should be asking you the same thing. what are you two doing in this hospital?"

"do you know her?" draken looked at you in astonishment, seeing how you were sitting right in front of the woman's room.

"no, but i was the one who called an ambulance for her last night. i found her getting assaulted by a bunch of assholes." you furrowed your brows.

"pah is our third division captain. the girl you saved is his friend's." draken explained to your briefly.

"if only i had gotten there earlier, then maybe she wouldn't be in a comatose state. i was too late when i arrived, she was already unconscious." you stood up on your feet, stumbling a bit when your bruised leg hit the wall in the process. "i'm going to make those fuckers pay."

"don't involve yourself with moebius." mikey's playful and carefree aura had drastically changed into a serious one, something that lacked any hint of emotions for a second. "this isn't your fight, it is ours."

so, that's what the gang's name was.

you found yourself glaring into his blank, black whirpools with your red filled haze. "the moment i made them bleed, i had already gotten myself involved in this matter. besides, my conscience won't allow me to rest knowing that those fuckers aren't taught a lesson while she fights for her life in this hospital."

as a thick and weight aura developed in the atmosphere from you and mikey, a couple had arrived from the other end of the hallway, causing the two of you to halt and freeze up along with draken.

"you!"

you watched as the couple angrily storm mikey and draken. you were suddenly pulled to the side by the wife as her husband began to lash out his anger at the two blondes.

"goodness, are you okay? did you yourself involved with them too?"

her motherly aura made your heart clench, but you couldn't help but feel guilty that mikey and draken are receiving the misdirected anger.

"we've heard you were the one who called her an ambulance."

"ma'am, i'm fine but they aren't the ones responsible for this." you interjected, trying to defend mikey and draken. "it was a different one."

"no, we'll take responsible for this." draken bowed his head towards them and forced mikey to imitate him.

somehow, you were able to break up the commotion the father of the girl you saved was causing. you understood where his anger and frustration coming from, any parent would have naturally done the same especially when their children are in such states.

once they had left, you pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled sharply.

"[name], let's go outside." draken over you to come follow him and mikey.

you trailed after them from behind, exiting the hospital. just as you were about to go on separate ways from them, a hand held yours. you looked up to see mikey, smiling at you. the same smile he flashed you when you encountered him and saw him barge into your campus.

"what do you want?" you furrowed your brows.

"thank you for defending us earlier."

you averted your gaze away from him, not used to how mikey wasn't teasing you but instead being genuinely sincere. "don't mention it."

"i can't stop you from wanting to fight moebius, can i?" mikey asked you calmly afterwards, which you returned with a small glare.

"in that case. i want you to join us then. we'll be fighting moebius soon for pah-chin." mikey told you. "come meet us at the warehouse near second MS."

right after mikey had given you the location, you watched as a lilac haired boy zoom and stop in front of you three on his motorbike. his eyes immediately fell onto you, then towards your hand that was intertwined with mikey's.

"oh? is this your girlfriend?" he looked at you in astonishment.

you immediately released mikey's hand and scoffed, "just great, the rumors have reached outside the campus now." you proceeded glare at mikey who simply chuckled at your reaction.

"yeah, she is and she's coming with us tomorrow." mikey nodded, acting as if you weren't infuriated by the situation. "mitsuya, this is [surname], [name]."

"n-nice to meet you..?" you watched as the guy sweatdropped from your glare, resulting in his greeting becoming an interrogative sentence.

"likewise, mitsuya." you scoffed, rubbing your face. "now, if you'll excuse me i have places to be."

with that, you turned your heel away from draken, mikey and mitsuya and walked.

"see you tomorrow, baby!" you heard mikey holler.

you continued walking and simply raised your middle finger without looking back.

"i'm not your girlfriend, bitch!" you yelled.

you couldn't believe your ears when you heard what you'd just agreed to. you were involving yourself with a gang and this time it was with toman. but, on the other hand, you were doing it for the girl you saved. even if you didn't know her, you were going to avenge her.

mitsuya commented, blinking as the three of them watched your figure disappear. "are you sure she's your girlfriend?"

"yeah, i made her my girlfriend when i visited her at her school to return her school ID." mikey answered mitsuya who sweatdropped.

"did she even say yes..?" mitsuya looked at the smaller blonde in concern.

"no, she actually did not." draken answered for mikey, who in return glared at him.

"eh, she didn't?!"

as per told by mikey yesterday outside the hospital, you made you way towards the said warehouse. you were munching on a strawberries and cream sandwich you got from a nearby convenient store along with some soda. there you saw mikey dressed in casual clothes, along with draken and three unfamiliar guys with them. you casually munched on your food, watching their eyes fall on you which you chose to ignore.

"hey." you decided to greet them, lifting your can of soda towards them.

"who is this?" the young man with blonde parted hair raised a brow at you questioningly along with the other blonde who had his hair in a faux hawk style.

"[surname], [name]. she's the one who saved your friend's girl." mikey explained, lifting his head to gaze at you. "she even beat a couple of moebius' members too, including osanai himself."

"she did what?!" the boy with the faux hawk styled hair looked at you fearfully. "but.. she's so.."

"pretty to beat up a bunch of geezers? yeah, i know." you found yourself laughing at how the faux hawk haired boy turn red. somehow, you failed to realize mikey's small glare at you when you did that.

"you look pretty today." mikey's glare subsided into a relaxed look as a smile rose from his lips.

your eyes fell upon the oversized black hoodie adorning you that you loved using as a dress, and top of that; you were also wearing some thigh high heeled boots which definitely made you taller than mikey.

you shrugged, chuckling at his compliment. "whatever, mikey."

"thank you for helping my friend's girlfriend." you watched as the brusque young man dip his head at you in respect, bowing to you. "i'm pah."

"oh, so you're pah." you claimed before taking a sip of your soda. "it's no problem, really."

you proceeded to avert your gaze towards the faux hawk haired boy who seemed to froze on the spot with an evident blush of red on his cheeks. "what about you, michi-boy? you got a name?"

"michi-boy?" all of the toman members within the vicinity sweatdropped.

"my name is takemichi." he sputtered out in a gulp. "it's nice to meet you in person, [name]-san!"

you couldn't help quiet laugh at him. for some reason, he reminded you of your friend, rie. especially, with the way he addresed you and you could easily tell that he had a good heart.

"[name]'s fine. you remind me of rie, michi." you claimed before taking another bite of your food. "so, don't call me as such, got it?"

"y-yes, [name].. chan?" you watched as the boy cringed at the foreign words that elicited from his mouth.

everyone watched as your expression darkened to the point you literally crushed the can of milk soda in your hand, causing the fizzy, sweet contents of it to spill in your hand.

"eh? don't call me that either." you lightly glared at takemichi who let out a scared yelp from the sudden change of the aura you were displaying.

"oh, does that mean i'm the only one who can call you that bab—WHACK!"

pah and peh-yan looked at you in astonishment as you effortless flicked the can to mikey's face in a flash. not only were you seasoned in fighting, but you had a pretty good aim at throwing.

"oh shit, mikey's girlfriend sure is scary."

just as you lifted the baggy sleeve of your oversized hoodie to pummel toman's invincible mikey to the ground, a voice had boomed from behind the rest of you.

"girlfriend? i didn't think this bitch would belong to a middle schooler like you, mikey!"

turning around, your eyes became devoid of emotions once again as you locked eyes with the same asshole that had violated the girl you rescued.

"if it isn't the son of a bitch himself?" you taunted, lips curling sarcastically.

"watch your mouth." he hissed at you, causing a nerve or two from mikey to break. "unless you want me to make use of that pretty mouth of yours for something else."

"says the guy who has a small dick, aren't you the one you ran with a tail in between his legs?" you proceeded to mock him, completely unfazed by his words. "you can go and bark all you want like some dog, but i fucking bite."

you proceeded to hunch the fabric of your oversized, baggy sleeves past your elbows and crack your neck. as you widened your stance to engage an attack, a hand grasped your shoulder. you looked over your shoulder, turning your head to see pah, brimming with anger and determination.

"allow me to fight, [name]." the way he spoke sounded more of a demand rather than a request. "i want revenge for my friend and his girl."

reluctantly, you relaxed your tensed shoulders and let out a long sigh. you could see how loyal and lionhearted this young man was, despite the tough exterior he was displaying. just like you, he wanted avenge them the same way as you.

"alright, go ahead." you chuckled, giving his hand a pat before brushing it off from your shoulder.

you proceeded to take a step back and folded your arms, watching as pah-chin went to head to head with osanai. you watched from the corner of your eye takemichi practically and mentally dying inside. you could see the fear and worry his eyes like he had seen something he shouldn't.

eventually, you were able to analyze this fight despite the fact that pah became no match. you observed that osanai uses boxing. by the time pah was becoming unconscious with blood all over his face and nose, you instinctively stood up from the floor and simultaneously approached him with mikey.

the two of you glanced at each other for a second and you could have sworn you've read his thoughts. you watched as mikey supported pah with an arm as you turned towards osanai who was mocking toman, claiming that they needed to change their name into a baby alliance.

the laughter of his men filled the entire warehouse as he proceeded to mock you. the moment he had specifically told you that you needed to get dicked down, you chose not to hold yourself back anymore.

the atmosphere drastically changed when you silently took a step forward and swiftly kicked your leg to where the sun doesn't shine on him. the rest of moebius, including the toman members behind you, looked at you in shock. you didn't even flinch when you heard a nasty snap. as osanai's knees buckled to the floor, letting out a pained groan as clutched his lower area. you cracked your knuckles before ramming a fist to his face; giving him a bloody, black eye just like you had sworn.

you roughly grabbed him by his chin, your black painted nails digging into his skin as you forced him to look at you straight in the eyes.

"what were you saying to me again, hmm?"

at that moment, they became afraid of you. especially, takemichi, though you knew the boy had no bad intentions; he definitely knows how dangerous you are and finally, he realized why you were deemed as a dangerous woman in tokyo.

the queen of st. ishiyama.

the female delinquent.

you watched as he sputtered out fearful noises, practically trembling from your watchful gaze. they all couldn't believe how you easily brought osanai to his knees like that, you were unnatural.

"yeah, i can't hear you." you let out a yawn. "but, i'm sure you've learned your lesson now."

"because if you don't, i'll kill you in the most gruesome way possible and make sure the police never finds your damned carcass. understand?"

osanai proceeded to pass out, literally. and when he did, you flicked your eyes upwards. all of the moebius members couldn't bring themselves to look at you. you could practically hear their unsteady breathing and trembling despite the distance they had from you.

"are they even middle schoolers?"

you heard them murmur.

"she's scary."

eventually, police sirens came around. you proceeded to drag osanai's unconscious body and literally yoinked him at the moebius members with your insane strength.

"he's your leader, yeah?" you asked, hardening your gaze into a glare. "take him with you, unless you want me to take out your own trash."

without another word, they took hold of their leader and everyone left the warehouse right before the police could witness everything. you found yourself laughing as you trailed behind draken and mikey. you felt alive.

you haven't done that shit in such a long time; beating a gang leader. you reminisced your early years in your previous school, remembering your prime time of a life—back when you had your very own empire.

looking back at it, you missed it. you missed your girls too.

"i think [name] lost it." takemichi looked at you, sweatdropping.

you beamed a smile at him, one that could make anyone fall hard for you. fortunately, you heard what he murmured. "lost it? i haven't taken down a gang leader in a while!"

you received a series of surprised looks and a terrified scream from takemichi, who couldn't believe what you had just said.

and you? you simply continued to smile at them.

taglist: @kamikoii @sakumoly @valyblossms @cxtwomans @ooriru @sundaemochi @justfandomlover @coco-goat-milk @almondtofuu @thelovehashira143 @akqshie

tell me in the replies to get added

#tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev x yn #tokyorev x you #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo manji gang #tokyo manji revengers #toman x reader #toman x you #sano manjiro x y/n #sano manjiro x you #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro

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masquenoire · 2 years ago

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@riddleroyalty made a really good post about how their Riddler views his fellow villains so I thought I might try and do something similar with Roman. Enjoy!

The Joker - Roman absolutely fucking DETESTS the Joker. Their first meeting did not go well at all, with the Joker having killed his girlfriend, getting the better of him during a physical altercation and usurping his identity during the events of Arkham Origins. It’s a bitter, bitter memory for Roman and an experience that made him regress considerably, becoming much more paranoid and aggressive due to how the Joker so effortlessly caused so much damage in one night and for what? To get Batman’s attention?? Roman would dearly love to put a bullet between the clown’s eyes but his madness and unpredictability only serves to warn Black Mask against interacting with him at all unless his hand’s been forced. The Riddler - Roman does not like Edward. It’s not because the man’s wronged him exactly... Edward just rubs him the wrong way and the mindgames don’t help. Roman is a bully and likes being direct whereas Edward beats around the bush, wasting time with convoluted schemes just to prove his smarts. Unfortunately this means he’s too crafty to be manipulated so easily, even if Roman felt inclined to try. Roman might be a tiger in comparison but Edward is the monkey who’ll yank his tail and disappear into the treetops before he’s able to retaliate. Fortunately their interests are too different for them to interact often but whenever they do cross paths? Neither man will have a good time.

@deciphertheriddler’s Edward is a slight exception, with Roman having developed a marginally more positive opinion of. His unassuming looks, acts of extreme violence towards corrupt policitians and imposing mask that inspired terror across Gotham has intrigued Roman, though he knows not to underestimate Edward despite his ‘harmless’ appearance. Tries not to give him a hard time.

Scarecrow - In spite of the Good Doctor’s intelligence, there’s something about Jonathan Crane that Roman can’t bring himself to fully respect. It might be that skinny body or reliance on fear toxins that makes his lip curl, thinking that a truly frightening person doesn’t need to rely on drugs to incite terror. Roman thinks it’s cheap using chemicals to do the job for him though he rarely voices this opinion out loud as he doesn’t want to know what getting a full dosage of fear juice must feel like. Jonathan is smart but his obsession with fear and all it entails isn’t something Roman cares much for.

@arkhampsych’s Dr. Crane is regarded as ‘positively’ as Roman can towards an employee of Arkham Asylum. He doesn’t feel as though Jonathan pretends to care unlike other psychiatrists working there, keeping their sessions professional and straight to the point. Jonathan’s lack of ‘phoney’ airs has Roman more willing to talk and engage, and the topic of masks between them can get particularly deep.

Mad Hatter - Roman has no idea what to think when it coms to Jervis Tetch. Seriously, Alice in fucking Wonderland? It’s a children’s book for crying out loud and an old one at that too, though Roman doesn’t disapprove of the Mad Hatter’s dedication to his work. Those rabbit masks? Top notch. That technology to brainwash and control people? Roman might consider investing in said tech were Jervis a more... lucid person. He’s not accepting any invitations to a tea party anytime soon but Roman considers the Mad Hatter a clever, if somewhat disturbing little man. Victor Zsasz - Somebody Roman finds to be most interesting. Zsasz is feared and for good reason, being a serial killer who mutilates his own body to commemorate his kills and on a strange level, Roman has mad respect for how far the other is willing to go for that goal. Pain is something many people are afraid of and shy away from at all costs but much like Roman, Zsasz is not only willing to embrace pain but invites her veritably, dedicating his own body as a temple. It’s truly mask off behaviour, so raw and open that Roman can’t bring himself to look away, wondering what grisly tale each and every scar holds. Two Face - There are few things Roman hates more than a ‘two-faced’ person and Harvey Dent embodies that term perfectly. Being two sides of the same coin, Harvey and ‘Harv’ are a tough read, both equally challenging and too vicious for Black Mask to chase off so easily. Similar interests in territory, wealth and power through similar means (i.e: drugs, weapons, ect.) makes him a most unwelcome rival in Gotham and an especially hard nut for Roman to crack. Penguin - Of all the ‘mafia’ type rogues, Roman loathes Oswald Cobblepot the most. He’s such a short, pompous little man and Roman would love nothing more than to punt him across his own Iceberg Lounge and sit in his chair. Unfortunately Penguin is a canny bird with a sharp beak and an equally sharp tongue, and his more ‘subtle’ doings are nothing short of vexing for Roman. That gentlemanly act? Cut the crap, Cobblepot. Roman can see right through that shit and he’s not impresssed. Scarface - Freaky little man with a freaky little doll. He’s a good ventriloquist, Roman will give Arnold that but it’s hard to imagine that simpering little coward having the mind to pull off such a convincing act through Scarface. Roman’s sure Arnold’s just as nuts as everybody else is in Gotham but the opposing personalities, the difference between them makes it really hard to tell. Doesn’t like Scarface at all, seeing him as another rival on his turf. Bane - Roman prefers to give Bane a wide berth, both figuratively and literally. Somebody who can break Batman’s spine is NOT one to aggravate and despite his looks, Bane is no slouch in the mental department either. What makes Roman even warier is how calm and collected Bane seems to be, clearly thinking ahead and evaluating his actions. It’s not a feeling Roman enjoys at all, knowing he’s outclassed physically, mentally and emotionally all at once. Fortunately much like with Edward, Bane and Roman rarely have reason to cross paths and he greatly prefers leaving the juggernaught to his own business. Killer Croc - Waylon Jones is also given a wide berth for similar reasons to Bane but Roman won’t hestitate to contact the man if he wants a certain type of ‘muscle’ for a job. Killer Croc has been treated as an outcast his whole life due to his reptilian appearance but Roman honestly couldn’t care less about how he looks, liking the other man’s similarly honest and direct nature. If and when they do end up working together, Roman makes sure Waylon gets paid and treated fairly... those rumours about Killer Croc eating people isn’t something he wants to test on the offchance they are true. Clayface - A bit of an enigma. Roman doesn’t really know what to think of Clayface other than the man is an incredible actor and is impressive with how effortlessly he can take on the looks and personality of another. It’s a bit disconcerting really, especially with how convincing Basil can be and Roman would be lying if he wasn’t *slightly* jealous about it. He’s content having a body consisting of actual flesh and blood though. Harley Quinn - Really doesn’t like her, due to her personality and her links to the Joker. Individually he can handle her in small doses but somehow the clown always finds a way to push every one of his buttons like a kid in an elevator, every word and action finding ways to get under his skin. It’s a grating experience whenever Harley’s around and after she’s gone, Roman quickly finds himself needing a hard drink. How can one woman push so many of his triggers in such a short amount of time? Nobody knows, but @quinnzelles spoiled almost as many movies as he’s downed shots of booze. Poison Ivy - Pam is hot. Scary but hot. Unfortunately she doesn’t seem to care much for Roman and he’d rather avoid ending up as plant fertilizer or brainwashed due to spores... or pheromones, or whatever the hell she’s capable of producing. Treats her much like a very dangerous plant cordoned off in a private exhibit, something to admire from a distance and not approach no matter how tempting it is to do so. Catwoman - Roman both hates and fixates on her, formerly for her close ties to Batman and secondly for her occupation as a thief. Roman is paranoid she’ll come slinking through his windows some dark night to make off with his things - his money, his masks, he’s certain she’s going to pull something some day and he just can’t have that waiting to be a problem now, can he? Unfortunately there is some twisted infatuation held in regards to Selina Kyle due to her vivaciousness and aggression, wondering what exactly it is about her that has captivated his interest so. Mr. Freeze - These two have very little to do with one another, if they ever did. Victor Fries is an oddity in Gotham, causing crime not to enrich himself or to exact revenge against another but to save his wife and ensure she has a healthy future. It’s admirable, especially as Roman once lost somebody he cared about and loved very deeply so the lengths that Victor goes to is nothing short of impressive. Other than that, they share absolutely nothing in common and Victor probably doesn’t feel as kindly towards Roman as Roman does in turn.

#( 💀 ♮ IMMACULATE INTERESTS ♮ | musings )#( 💀 ♮ UNMASKED MALICE ♮ | headcanons )#I'll probably go over this in the morning and tidy it up a little #Or add some names #Roman's feelings are rather complicated and my writing feels ugly and cluttered #This is just a general vibe check on his part but a couple of roleplayers have made distinctive impressions which I've noted #I hope this doesn't bother any other roleplayers #This is just his opinion on some characters but that can change

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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Modern AU Heartrender Husbands gives me the vibes of like they'll watch eurovision bc Fedyor wanted to and Ivan only begrudgingly agreed but in the end it's him who's standing really close to the TV with a bottle of beer loudly criticising the jury vote

Anon, your Mind. As 100% ever, I am so very easy to enable. As before, this is set in Phantom!Verse, and serves as a sequel of sorts to this (and as a further prequel to PEL).

Brighton Beach, 2014

It’s their first spring in their new home – they arrived in America in August 2013 and got this place, fittingly, right around Orthodox Christmas in January 2014 – and that means many things to them. Their apartment is in a formerly rent-controlled brownstone tenement right off the boardwalk, but prior to their arrival, it was occupied for fifty years by an old bat from Krasnodar Krai who apparently never, ever, threw anything away. (Fedyor is too scared to ask if she actually died in this apartment and her mummified corpse is lurking at the bottom of all the junk.) That is why he and Ivan were able to afford it, at least, but now that the weather is warmer, they have been spending all day cleaning, hauling boxes of crap to the dumpster, and trying in vain to get the smell of pickled cabbage out of the kitchen. It looks exactly like your Great Aunt Masha’s house, the one that traumatized you as a child and has never left your nightmares since. Home sweet home.

The upside is that the location is great, the apartment is surprisingly spacious and lovely – a big bedroom, a bathroom with two sinks and a deep claw-footed tub, a living room with high windows that let in lots of light, original crown molding and hardwood floors – and if it was located in the really chic parts of Brooklyn and inhabited by a tech-startup hipster rather than a Russian émigré spinster with definite hoarding tendencies, it would rent for some astronomical monthly sum. Fedyor has a three-ring binder full of paint swatches, sketches, furniture samples, and other plans to give it a total overhaul (he’s thinking a nice pale green for the living room?) But the one thing that spring definitely means is Eurovision, and it is just the ticket to relax from their grueling schedule of throwing boxes of junk away and hoping they don’t stumble upon a withered hand in a glass jar. He likes America and he’s excited for their new life, for all that they had no choice but to leave Russia in a hurry, but Eurovision is Eurovision.

Actually watching it, of course, is easier said than done. For one thing, Fedyor can’t find a blasted station that is airing it, when he could have just switched on the TV and found it right away back home. For another, Ivan is deeply dubious of the whole endeavor, having watched five minutes of it once when he was eighteen and turning it off in disgust, never to return. Fedyor spends a lot of time wheedling him to give it another chance. “Come on, Vanya. It’s fun!”

“It is a lot of homosexuals gyrating in leather to very bad music,” Ivan snaps. “They look ridiculous. And sound even worse.”

Fedyor glances at them – the fact that they’re sitting on the couch, he’s on Ivan’s lap with his legs draped over Ivan’s thigh, and Ivan’s arms wrapped around his waist – and coughs. “I’m not sure how to break this to you, darling,” he says, “but you are also a homosexual.”

“Maybe, but you would never catch me dead up there.”

“Of course not.” Fedyor rolls his eyes. “You might actually have to smile.”

Ivan makes a scoffing noise. Then he notices the full-on puppy-dog face that Fedyor is now giving him, and says, “Oh no. Oh no, Fedya. Do not look at me like that.”

“Why not?” Fedyor shamelessly snuggles closer. “Is it working?”

The predictable outcome is that Ivan grudgingly agrees to watch it with him, though they’re on American time now and Eurovision Song Contest 2014, held in Copenhagen, Denmark, is six hours ahead of them. Ivan thinks that it’s stupid to sit down and watch a lot of gyrating homosexuals in the middle of the day, when there’s still so much work to do, and tries to demand that they just watch the recording later. Fedyor says this is nonsense, you simply cannot watch a recording of Eurovision, and after a lot of investigation, finds the online streaming channel on his laptop and hooks it up to the TV so they can watch it there. Then he prepares his popcorn, his alcoholic beverages, and his glitter glasses, corrals his recalcitrant husband, and readies himself to experience pure joy. No wonder Ivan doesn’t get it.

However, the effect is both swift and remarkable. By the end of the first semi-final, Ivan is put out about the fact that Russia came seventh in the popular vote but was knocked down to eleven by the jury (this is evidence of an anti-Russian conspiracy, according to him) and when only Moldova, a tiny no-name non-EU former Soviet state, deigns to award them the full twelve points, he is openly incredulous. “Moldova?! That is all we get?! MOLDOVA?!”

“Well,” Fedyor says delicately. “There is that little situation in Ukraine, so I’m afraid we are not that popular right now.”

“That is bullshit,” Ivan grouses. “This is a song contest. The Tolmachevy Sisters are not Vladimir Putin. I am sure they have worked very hard to be here.”

Fedyor glances at him and wisely decides not to say anything. He is likewise a little peeved when the Russian contestants get booed by the Danish audience, but Ivan looks like he’s about to leap through the screen and throttle every single one of them. He thrusts out a hand. “Give me a drink, Fedya. I need it to suffer this indignity.”

Fedyor cracks the lid off a cold one and hands it over – there is the Brighton Bazaar just a few blocks away, stocked with Russian goods, so they are spared the ordeal of drinking Yankee beer – and Ivan takes a long slug. He thinks they can skip watching the second semi-final two nights later, since Russia isn’t in it, but Fedyor puts it on anyway. They both like Austria and “Rise Like a Phoenix,” sung by the bearded drag queen Conchita Wurst (there have been a few dumb comments about her from the usual suspects), but Ivan hits a fist on the arm of the sofa. “She was not better than the Russian girls,” he says loyally. “I still think that they should be the ones to win.”

“Right, well,” Fedyor says. “I think the only ones less likely to win are the Brits, and they never win, so we might be waiting a while.”

The grand finale, on May tenth, is an inadvertently hysterical exercise. They get up early and put on the pregame show, like the Americans do with their bewildering fixation on the Super Bowl, and Ivan gets even more furious when the Tolmachevy Sisters are booed again. “Are they not supposed to love everyone at this glitter bacchanalia? So much for the Scandinavians being tolerant and accepting people! The song is nice! They are nice girls! What is wrong with them?!”

“Come over here and give me a cuddle, Vanya,” Fedyor suggests. “Otherwise you will blow a blood vessel long before the show starts.”

Ivan growls like an escaped tiger from the zoo, but consents to sit down next to Fedyor. They both drink copiously once the festivities get underway, singing along loudly (and not that melodiously) to the various entries, Fedyor’s arm draped around Ivan’s neck as he sits on his lap and critically judges the acts before the official results pop up. Once again, the only twelve-point awards Russia gets are from former Soviet countries (Azerbaijan and Belarus) and Ivan looks like he’s going to have a conniption before Fedyor kisses him and he gets distracted for the next three minutes. “This is disgraceful,” he mutters, when they break away. “Not you, Fedya. Just the horrible way they have clearly rigged this show against us.”

“You know,” Fedyor says. “That’s Eurovision. You declare war on your neighbors when they don’t give you twelve points. Now they have the EU, they’re not supposed to fight anymore, this is the only way they can get all those old rivalries out. Just be glad that Australia isn’t in this year. You might have really blown a gasket.”

“Australia?!” Ivan shifts Fedyor to a more comfortable position on his lap and grabs for his third bottle of beer. “AUSTRALIA IS NOT IN EUROPE! It is not even anywhere NEAR Europe! WHY DOES AUSTRALIA GET TO BE IN EUROVISION!?!”

Fedyor laughs out loud. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Ivan says. “But this is still the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”

“Shh.” Fedyor nuzzles him. “Just give in, Vanya. Just give in.”

Ivan consents to turn his grumbling down to a simmer, and is somewhat mollified that Russia comes in sixth overall, which is better than even Fedyor thought they were going to do. Austria takes the champion’s crown, they can both agree that Conchita Wurst deserves it, and get up and dance around their still-junk-cluttered living room as she gives her bravissima performance. A few things have been thrown during the judging, but they can’t add much to the existing mess, and in Brighton Beach, “damage caused to the apartment because Russia got shafted during Eurovision finals” might actually be a legitimate excuse. As he leans against Ivan’s chest and grins into his neck, Fedyor has to admit that this place may just feel like home yet.

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #fivan #pel asks #henchmen deserve happiness too okay #anonymous #ask #fivan ff

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laurelnose · 4 years ago

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Very New to your blog and the posts are probably way old but I saw you do Witcher Biology (??) rants sometimes and Id love to hear your take, if you have one, on what monsters (namely "naturally occurring" ones like draconids and insectoids) contribute to the ecosystem if anything and whether or not they should be hunted into extinction. I was discussing it w/ a friend last night after dealing with Iocaste, the last silver basilisk, and now its smthn I'm Invested in

re monster ecosystems: I just figure theyve probably found a niche in the world by now and can eat anything smaller incl. humans but because theyve got no natural predators aside from eachother and arent hunted by anything but witchers , monsters are just breeding and eating and wldnt that damage the land? or have they made their own like, circle of life or whatever ? Ive little knowledge on the subject as a whole but the whole thing intrigues me

hi & extremely belated welcome, anon! my apologies for the length of time you’ve been waiting for this answer; I had to think carefully about how I wanted to respond to this ask, because: there’s a lot going on here. also, because I am a disaster, I ended up posting it to ao3 first while I was avoiding tumblr for a spell and then completely forgot to come back. oops. i’m sorry!! This one’s about 5000 words long, which is a lot for tumblr, so reading on AO3 may be preferable.

The two main thrusts of your first ask (how do monsters interact with the ecosystem and should they be eradicated from the Continent) are questions of invasion ecology, the study of non-native/invasive species and their effects on the environment. Monsters, having arrived on the Continent about 1200 years ago during the Conjunction of Spheres from entirely alien dimensions, are indeed technically non-native species!

However, invasion ecology is…somewhat controversial, to say the least—there are a lot of invasive species, who have a lot of different & complex impacts, and a lot of different ideas about what we might do about any of this, and it’s basically all arguing all the time, so I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to approach the topic. Not to mention that for reasons I couldn’t initially put my finger on, it seemed wrong to apply theories of invasion ecology to the Witcher monsters. We’ll get into it! There are also a couple of common misconceptions/oversimplifications of how ecology works in your second ask which I want to unpack. Hopefully I pulled this together into something that makes sense, and feel free to ask me for clarification!

Some important background facts:

Species have always been moving to and “invading” new places on their own; humans and globalization have accelerated this process into a Big Problem, as the sheer number of invasive species being introduced all over the globe strains ecosystems already under pressure, but “native ranges” are always shifting, sometimes more dramatically than you might expect. If you go far enough back in time, all species are “non-native”.

Because of this, the very definition of “invasive species” is hotly contested. This is why you’ll hear dozens of terms like introduced species, injurious species, naturalized species, non-native species, etc.; these all have slightly different connotations, but all refer to a species that did not originate in a particular location.

An introduced species is usually classified as “invasive” as opposed to “non-native” or “naturalized” if its presence significantly alters the ecosystem it invades; some people define this more narrowly as a species that causes harm to an ecosystem. “Harm” can take a lot of different forms, as every non-native species interacts differently with the ecosystem they were introduced to.

Aside from various potential impacts to human economic activity, most forms of ecological harm by introduced species involve the decline of native species, by a variety of mechanisms; invaders might eat natives, outcompete them for food, interbreed with them, carry novel pathogens, etc. Invasive species are primarily a threat to biodiversity.

Now, here’s my Hot Take:

The Conjunction of Spheres is analogous to real-life ecological cataclysms such as the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event, and thus monsters are not invasive species.

The Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction event saw the extinction of 75% of all species on Earth after the Chicxulub asteroid hit, including the non-avian dinosaurs. The Earth has had several disasters like this, of varying severity—the Great Oxidation Event killed almost literally everything on Earth except for the cyanobacteria who caused it. These cataclysmic extinction events completely upended existing ecosystems, altering habitats beyond recognition and leaving swathes of niches emptied of life that the survivors could evolve to exploit.

The most recent Conjunction of Spheres on the Continent is supposed to have thrown everyone living on the planet at the time into chaos and darkness; it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that the interpenetration of multiple spheres caused mass extinction of species living in the pre-Conjunction environment, similar to Chicxulub or the GOE!

But Socks, you might say, evolution works on a massive timescale! It took millions of years to fill the niches left open by Chicxulub, but it’s only been 1200 years since the Conjunction of Spheres! And you are absolutely right*, but the Conjunction of Spheres canonically came pre-loaded with new species. We actually have no proof that any of the animals we see originated on the Continent: if humans are a post-Conjunction phenomenon, why not also dogs? Why not bears? Who’s to say any of those were actually there before-hand? (The elves, I guess, but as they have not, actually, said so, there’s no proof!!)

* FTR, 1200 years is a shockingly short period of time to go from cataclysm that plunged the world into darkness and chaos to functioning medieval-era society considering how long it actually took humanity to build 13 century Europe (horses had been domesticated for at least 3000 years by that time), even if we’re not assuming that most of the ecosystem was destroyed, so, my timeline concerns here are minimal, lmfao. TIMELINE WHAT TIMELINE.

…and actually now that I think about it the three options for the origin of dogs are a) elves or dwarves domesticated them, b) humans brought dogs with them during the Conjunction, or c) dogs have existed for less than 1200 years, and I refuse to accept that dogs are practically a new invention in the witcherverse, wtf.

Anyways: we really have no idea which species are truly “native” to the Continent, or what the physical environment was like prior to the Conjunction. While monsters are not native to the Continent, monsters are also not invasive—there cannot be decline of pre-Conjunction biodiversity or harm to the pre-Conjunction ecosystem because there is no pre-Conjunction ecosystem anymore.

should monsters be hunted to extinction?

So, the thing is, I think we should try to eradicate invasive species from non-native ranges if we can; the biggest problem with that is feasibility, not morality. It’s much more difficult than one might think to eradicate an invasive species once it’s established, and we have to be very careful that the methods we choose don’t have other impacts, but invasive species are a huge threat to the biodiversity of Earth! If monsters are invasive species, then the answer is yes, they should be eradicated from the places they are not native to.

(Notably, on Earth this kind of eradication is not the same thing as extinction; it would be a local extinction, or extirpation, where the species is totally wiped out in the places it invaded but still exists in its native range. This does get way more complicated if the invasive is already extinct in its native range.)

However, I have just outlined a possibility that would make it plausible for monsters not to be invasive species. Let me also outline why I prefer this interpretation. Here is a book conversation between the sorcerer Dorregaray of Vole and Geralt:

“Our world is in equilibrium. The annihilation, the killing, of any creatures that inhabit this world upsets that equilibrium. And a lack of equilibrium brings closer extinction; extinction and the end of the world as we know it. … Every species has its own natural enemies, every one is the natural enemy of other species. That also includes humans. The extermination of the natural enemies of humans, which you dedicate yourself to, and which one can begin to observe, threatens the degeneration of the race.”

“Do you know what, sorcerer?” Geralt said, annoyed. “One day, take yourself to a mother whose child has been devoured by a basilisk, and tell her she ought to be glad, because thanks to that the human race has escaped degeneration. See what she says to you.”

–The Bounds of Reason, ch. 6

This is a, uh, incredibly unsubtle reference to a debate that has been ongoing for decades; Geralt’s stance here is one of the key arguments in opposition to wolf and bear reintroduction. What do we do about large predators that may pose a threat to humans? How do we balance preservation of the ecosystem with the safety of people who have to coexist with these predators?

I can’t fully agree with Geralt, because large predators are integral to the ecosystem, which I value for its own sake and because humans depend on healthy ecosystems. But I can’t fully agree with Dorregaray either, because Geralt is right: human life is valuable and worthy of protecting. This is an issue that India has been running into in the past ten years; as their tiger conservation efforts yield fruit, people become more likely to encounter tigers, and thus more likely to have a bad encounter with a tiger. It’s become a political struggle as rural people who have to actually live with the possibility of a tiger attack come into conflict with urban conservationists who just really want to preserve tigers (& in some incidents, some of those conservationists have been Western, which is a whole additional level of fuckery). The fact is, there isn’t a good answer to this yet! We certainly should not drive tigers, wolves, or any other large predator to extinction, but we also have to figure out a way to keep people safe. It’s something humanity still has to wrestle with.

Under this framing, which CDPR reinforced when they chose to have the Count di Salvaress defend Iocaste as an endangered species while making significant provisions to minimize the damage she could do to human life, there’s far too much baggage attached for me to say yes, monsters should be hunted into extinction. If you’re going to make monsters analogous to wolves, of course I do not think we should get rid of monsters entirely!

And frankly, Geralt doesn’t think so either, despite his hardline stance about monsters that eat humans. Sapkowski isn’t exactly an anti-conservationist; though Dorregaray is shown as out of touch in this passage, at another point the narrative sides with him calling Philippa out on exterminating a species of ermine for her fur collar, and it’s consistently put forth that Geralt’s best quality is that he doesn’t want to perform violence for the sake of it or destroy things without cause, and one of the representations of that is that he refuses to kill endangered species even at cost to himself:

“What should I say about you, who rejects a lucrative proposition every other day? You won’t kill hirikkas, because they’re an endangered species, or mecopterans, because they’re harmless, or night spirits, because they’re sweet, or dragons, because your code forbids it.”

–Eternal Flame, ch. 2

If monsters and other post-Conjunction creatures are invasive species, the nuance in this conversation is flattened, and Geralt’s refusal to kill mecopterans and hirikkas becomes a flaw rather than a virtue. Boring! I also think that one of the strongest themes in the witcherverse is the idea of all monsters being human ills; wraiths are manifestations of hatred, necrophages multiply because of human bloodshed, cursed ones are created out of malice, mages like Alzur and Idarran of Ulivo go out of their way to straight-up create monsters from scratch*, etc. Iocaste attacks humans and takes livestock because the traditional prey of the silver basilisk, roe deer, has been extirpated by human destruction of their habitat. The aeschna in Blood of Elves attacks humans because humans have altered and polluted the flow of the Pontar, hunting the aeschna’s previous food (seals) to extinction. The true monster is the actions of humans. Monsters that appeared unbidden from another dimension into a previously functional ecosystem to invade and cause problems undermines this theme; monsters that are integrated into the ecosystem and subject to the same social and ecological forces as other animals supports it.

* Idarran’s “idr” monsters from Season of Storms absolutely should be eradicated. Did the world not have enough man-eating arthropods, Idarran? Did you really have to mutate horrible new ones and release them in populated areas?? Mages are a scourge, lmfao

Additionally, one of the biggest reasons I felt like I couldn’t actually apply invasion ecology to monsters was that, whether you accept my Conjunction theory as sufficient biological justification for this or not, monsters just don’t really behave like invasive species. It’s hard to explain this because the setting is pretty brief about its ecological details, but aside from the fact that the narrative frames them like just part of the ecosystem of the world, there are never any details like “that type of flower doesn’t exist anymore because giant centipede tunneling destroyed the soil they needed to grow in.” When monsters are the aggressors, their victims are always humans, not the environment or other animals, and again monsters are themselves often treated as victims of human actions.

So I say monsters aren’t invasive species!

Which means that monsters are, regardless of their strange origins, now a part of the Continent’s ecosystem just as much as bears and wolves.

So let’s talk monster ecology.

what do monsters contribute to the ecosystem, if anything?

So, the phrase “contributing to the ecosystem” is actually super loaded, and I want to unpack that before we go anywhere else. Ecosystems are made up of organisms, and organisms interact with and impact ecosystems, but they don’t necessarily contribute to ecosystems! The implication of “contribute” is that it is possible for an organism to not contribute, and it follows from there that some organisms are not useful. This is functionally nonsensical, and also dangerous.

Conservationists talk a lot about “intrinsic value,” which in this context is the idea that we should want to keep species around just because their existence is valuable! Biodiversity is intrinsically valuable. This is important, firstly because I do believe that all species are intrinsically valuable, but also: ecosystems are so enormously complicated that we do not know the full extent of any species or individual organism’s impact, and we can’t predict what the consequences of removing any given species might be. Treating all species as intrinsically valuable is hedging our bets. All organisms affect the ecosystem, because it’s impossible for them not to, and while some species definitely have outsize impact, none of them are “not contributing,” and frankly even if some of them weren’t, it would be the absolute height of human arrogance for us to decide we could tell which ones were useless when we barely even know what most species eat. Mosquitoes are the base of the entire goddamn food chain, and you still get assholes claiming they don’t “contribute anything.” Of course, most people don’t really mean all of these implications when they use the phrase, but I don’t find it useful to talk about what species “contribute,” and avoid using that language if I can!

What I assume you mean by “what do monsters contribute” is a combination of “what roles might monsters play in the ecosystem” and “are monsters actively harmful to the ecosystem, i.e. do they cause loss of biodiversity?”

And this is difficult to answer! As I’ve said, I don’t think monsters are invasive species, and thus don’t harm the ecosystem, though we know that monsters can be harmful to humans. However, when it comes to the role they do play in the ecosystem, there isn’t enough in canon for me to do more than wildly speculate! Also, there are so so many of them, and the role of a hirikka is going to be wildly different from that of a draconid.

Just offhandedly, most of the big predatory monsters can be assumed to fill the same roles as Earth’s big predators, one of the big ones being overpopulation of prey species, which has ramifications throughout the ecosystem. Some of them are canonically ecosystem engineers, or animals that physically alter their environment (think beavers); for instance, shaelmaar and nekker tunneling. Additionally, the big insectoid colonies can’t be relying solely on naturally-occurring caves for their homes; they’ve gotta be constructing some stuff themselves. These tunnels can be repurposed as habitat for other organisms, from giant centipedes to sewant mushrooms. Necrophages, like corpse-eaters in our world, likely limit the spread of diseases from decomposing flesh (and really wouldn’t be as much of an issue if everyone would stop, you know, doing war and mass murder, lmfao). Arachasae use tree trunks and organic plant material to conceal themselves, which is likely contributing to plant reproduction in a few different ways—but the arachasae decorating essay is a different topic that I swear I will finish one day oh my god—

…anyways, feel free to ask about any specific monsters or niches if you’re curious, but if I tried to go into detail with every single potential niche/ecosystem service all of the monsters we know of might fill, we would be here all day!

Let’s talk about a couple specific things you brought up in your second ask.

> theyve probably found a niche in the world by now and can eat anything smaller incl. humans

I mean…maybe! That is, yeah, they’ve definitely settled into niches by now, but feeding is way more complicated and interesting than that.

For instance: orcas can eat basically whatever the fuck they want—orcas are fully capable of bringing down everything from fish to seals to gray whales to great white sharks. But they don’t. In the Pacific Northwest, the resident orca pods almost exclusively eat salmon, while the transient pods largely feed on seals. Orcas are kind of an extreme example, but this is something called resource partitioning and it’s a big part of how animals limit competition with one another and what enables lots of predators to coexist in one place!

We see a big fuck-off dragon thing and we assume that it’ll eat anything it can fit in its mouth, and definitely some predators work like that. But just because an animal is technically capable of eating something and deriving nutrition from it doesn’t mean that it will. Silver basilisks made roe deer the staple of their diet before the destruction of beech forests meant they had to turn to humans—which is a pretty specific dietary restriction when there should be multiple species of deer running around, not to mention everything else a draconid could be killing! And given how many types of draconid there are…I have to assume there’s some kind of resource partitioning going on to prevent them all from conflicting with each other! For instance, if basilisks prefer roe deer, maybe forktails prefer wild goats, while wyverns are mostly kleptoparasitic (stealing other predators’ kills).

And of course, not all monsters eat humans at all; harpies steal from and attack humans, so they’re a dangerous nuisance, but they don’t seem to eat them. And in the books Geralt mentions plenty of monsters which are totally harmless.

So yes, there are lots of things monsters could be eating, but it would strongly depend, and there’s a lot of interesting places one can take monster diets! Netflix decided their strigas only eat specific organs, leaving the rest of the body untouche, & I love that for her. More monsters that need a particular kind of nutrition that leads them to take only specific body parts from some kills!

> because theyve got no natural predators aside from each other and arent hunted by anything but witchers, monsters are just breeding and eating and wldnt that damage the land? or have they made their own like, circle of life or whatever ?

Absolutely—invasive species whose populations rapidly increase once they’re away from their natural predators cause the decline of native species, often by eating natives directly or competing with natives for resources. And in fact, even native species who become overpopulated can seriously damage the ecosystem (see: white-tailed deer in the United States, whose overpopulation has such negative ecological effects that some people argue we should classify them as invasive, even though they have definitely been here this whole time).

However, even if we grant that monsters are invasive, it’s a little more complicated than that for a few reasons!

Despite the apparent preponderance of them in the witcher games, most monsters are supposed to be strongly on the decline, like witchers themselves. Geralt’s profession is falling out of necessity; human development of the Continent is going to be the biggest suppressing factor in monster populations in the future. Monster overpopulation is just canonically not a problem in this universe! But even in the scenario where the Inevitable March Of Civilization isn’t threatening monster populations, there are a lot of factors that could and would limit monster populations.

(TL;DR for this next part: yeah I definitely think they’ve figured out their own little circle of life—the term you’re looking for is ecosystem equilibrium, btw!—& I’m going to take the next 1.2k to talk about how.)

For starters, predation is only one among many limiting factors that affect populations & prevent them from ballooning out of control:

food availability: If there’s not enough food, there’s not enough food! It also matters how adaptable the animal’s diet is—silver basilisks moved from deer to humans, but if the eucalyptus went extinct koalas would not switch to eating cycads.

illness and parasites: Some people argue these are more important than direct predation for limiting populations, and I am often inclined to agree. Basically, if a population becomes very dense, illness and parasites spread more quickly, creating a natural limiter on how many animals can live in any one place. The greater susceptibility of some individuals to illness or parasites also winnows down populations. Non-native species often escape a good portion of their native diseases by moving to a new range—however, given how fast bacteria and viruses evolve, 1,200 years is a pretty decent amount of time for new diseases to arise. Also, just going to drop a link to my treatise on monster parasites here. It’s gross, mind the warning at the start of the post.

mate availability: If only a certain percentage of the population is actually able to reproduce, that’ll eventually bring the total number down. RIP Iocaste’s boyfriend 😔

territory/shelter availability: Animals need a certain amount of space and certain types of spaces to survive, and space isn’t infinite! It again depends on how adaptable an animal is; rats find ways to thrive nearly everywhere, but pandas can only live where there’s bamboo. If there’s not enough space to hide from predators, reproduce safely, store food, and avoid adverse weather, the population again limits itself naturally.

natural disasters: Wildfires, drought, flooding, tsunamis, storms, etc. pick off significant portions of wildlife populations. Disasters are sporadic rather than directly linked to population like most of the other factors but these periodic blows to population and the other impacts of fire or flooding are often integral to the ecosystem (see especially: fire regimes and fire ecology.)

Now let’s talk predation & monsters! (Genuinely, I think predation is one of the most interesting things in ecology; people tend to simplify it down to things eat other things, which—yeah, but there’s so much more going on there!)

First, I wouldn’t underestimate the effects of monsters eating other monsters! Even if it’s rare for a draconid to snatch up a nekker and carry it off, the threat of a draconid doing so can have dramatic impacts; researchers found that just playing the sound of dog barks on a beach stopped raccoons from foraging for crabs for over a month after the barking stopped, leading to an increase in crab populations, even though no raccoons ever encountered a dog. This is called the ecosystem of fear (which as a term is metal as hell) and it theorizes that just the fear of predators can lead to chronic stress for prey animals, decreasing reproduction and making them more susceptible to disease. Maybe draconids in Toussaint eat only a few dozen nekkers a year, but that might cause thousands of nekkers to have fewer offspring or fall to disease. When it comes to ecosystems the direct effect is usually only a small part of the story!

Second, when we talk about a species not having natural predators, we’re usually talking about an animal that would have a predator back in its home range—lionfish, for instance, have plenty of predators in their natural range (the Indo-Pacific), but no natural predators in their invasive range (the Caribbean), so invasive lionfish, suddenly freed of a limiting factor, can run amok. However, a great white shark has, aside from orcas (who do not actually eat white sharks, they’re just assholes sometimes) and occasionally other white sharks, more or less no natural predators anywhere once it reaches maturity, and that’s fine! Lack of predation of great white sharks did not cause their populations to explode and consume the ocean. White sharks are limited by other factors.

So: it is possible that wherever draconids originated (and it’s entirely possible that “draconids” came from multiple different places, tbh) there was something bigger that preyed on them, but it’s not unreasonable to assume they were also apex predators in their previous dimension (I mean…look at them), and that adult draconids were never really preyed on by anything else! It isn’t necessarily an issue for there not to be predators of certain monsters on the Continent.

(Though, of course, we also shouldn’t forget that most apex predators are prey when they’re young—baby white sharks are snack-sized for a lot of fishes, and bear cubs and wolf pups are similarly vulnerable. Based on the size of the eggs you see in TW3 draconid nests, a basilisk is hatched around the size of a little dog, which is the perfect size for small, ballsy predators such as wolverines to sneak into a nest and snap them up—predators such as more wolverines or raptors like eagles and hawks might also come directly for the eggs.)

When it comes to smaller monsters such as nekkers, who likely weren’t apex predators in their original dimensions and would thus be subject to that lack of natural predators—there are usually specific reasons why prey species manage to avoid predation in their introduced range. Lionfish confound Caribbean predators because lionfish are covered with huge poisonous spines that Caribbean predators don’t know how to deal with.

Drowners, on the other hand, are basically just man-shaped fish; they don’t have any adaptations or defenses that would really stump a bear or a wolf. Again, bigger monsters are still probably checking the populations of smaller monsters no matter what, but there’s really no reason a bear couldn’t figure out how to eat a drowner! Unless a monster has a unique defense (e.g. scurver spines), is actively distasteful to eat (rotfiends, probably), or is just difficult to take down (nekkers in packs), most of the non-monster predators* on the Continent will have incorporated various monsters into their diet by now, or suppressed monster populations indirectly with the threat of predation or by competing with them for food. It has been over a thousand years, which is nothing evolutionarily but is still a decent period of time for mammals, who pass hunting techniques down to their babies, to figure out how to eat ghouls—especially if we’re considering that the Continent’s mammals may also be a result of the Conjunction and would thus have to have been just as adaptable as the monsters to establish themselves. And I’ve also actually talked before about how wolves specifically might be preying on necrophages!

* For reference, the non-monster predators are, considering the Continent is more or less Europe, most likely lynxes, brown bears/polar bears (in Skellige), wolverines, foxes, badgers, and a variety of large birds of prey.

So—yes, if monsters were truly overpopulating, then that would damage the ecosystem. However, canon tells us they are definitely not doing that, and there are also many factors that would prevent that from happening!

(Though I will say that some of the reasons white-tailed deer are overpopulated are that we got rid of cougars and wolves and human development creates a lot of extra habitat of the type that deer like. Given that we know many of draconids are for sure in significant danger of going extinct, and the trajectory that Europe’s wolf and bear populations followed in real life, it is possible that the Continent will have to contend with an overpopulation of some of the smaller monsters at some point as they continue to try to eradicate the larger predators, both monster and non-monsters—you think the drowner problem is bad now, wait until the bears are gone and city development has tripled the number of sewers. Yet another of those humans-make-monster-problems-worse things I am fond of in the Witcherverse!)

…whew. that was a lot of words. In conclusion: ecology is really cool & there’s a bunch of ways monsters can fit into it!!

#kaer morhen biology of monsters 101 #and a bit of #witcher book blogging #asks #anonymous

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textsfromninjagoblog · 3 years ago

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🏮DotD debts part 1: Abandoned RPs🏮

Now this could get long so going to try to make a read more cut, hope it works!

:readmore:

First debt to settle here is probably the longest overdue and the one I feel most guilty about: the never finished “Slumber Party of the Departed” RP.

I’d like to both thank @purplerose244 , @brieflyshypuppy , @thatoneninjagosideblog , @geode-masterofcrystal , @letheboo , @ninjago12345 and apologize.

I was in my last year of high school when I was trying to run it, and not in a very good place stress wise, which combined with other life factors led to the abandonment. However, you guys are all awesome and don’t deserve to have put so much fun and work into my madness only to not find out how it would’ve ended, so here’s how it would’ve went!

Once we vanquished Chen, Kasia would have been in danger of being possessed by Morro. It would’ve turned into a giant game of keep-away around the house as we guarded her, with our choices depicting weather or not the possession would’ve happened, and if Geode would have turned into a ghost. However, no matter what, it would’ve been a ticking time bomb for the Preeminent to show up and I would’ve flooded the house with Nya’s full potential.

At this point, people would’ve been fighting off more of their character’s personality kinda seeping in, which sets the stage for the very angsty Skybound Round 2 in the now heavily damaged house.

I had planned on doing something involving a vengeful Delara as Nadakhan himself isn’t dead, but nonetheless the fight against fate would’ve ended the same as og skybound, me in a wedding dress (which for the sake of the story was going to be a cosplay I was forced into by the ghosts at some point) and the poison design on my shirt turning into the Tiger Widow Venom. Blake would have then had an epic moment, saving everyone with a final wish, which would have also fully repaired the house as well.

Since at the time that would’ve been the last aired season (crazy how time flies, right?) when we went to make a move to destroy the Ouija board, Yang would’ve popped out but instead of attacking like we expect, is impressed that we survived the onslaught and presents us each with pins of each ninja’s symbol that allow us to use the gifts we mastered over the night whenever we want/need to. After we send him off with the convenient eclipse happening outside, we would’ve destroyed the board and settled in to watch the primer of DotD, closing out the RP.

Once again, thank you all for participating all those years ago, and if you’d like a copy of the chat logs feel free to message me!

🏮🏮🏮

Debt two is slightly more recent but also on the same note, “Ninjagoland: A Summer RP Experience”.

I thought I’d learned my lesson, but apparently not since life got wild while trying to run this one too. I’d hoped the flexible group setting would allow me to keep better track of it, but when they came out with more and more seasons at a quicker pace than expected I ended up with a writing paralysis that just didn’t clear up, which is what caused the abandonment. Also, I felt things were rapidly changing at the parks to the point it was hard to stay in the correct mind space to write this one, as it started to feel like a period piece in a way.

Same as with the last one, I’d like to apologize to and thank @geekywinemom , @ninjagogolion , @councillake , @kaospersona for participating, you all pushed the story into some crazy fun directions that kept me on my toes for improvisation!

I can’t give an exact closure to this one because it was very improvisation based, down to even what seasons we experienced in what order. Yes,this is why I would always ask what ride you all wanted to go on next, because that determined the next round of chaos! Also, there would have been a ‘lock and load’ montage at the Downtown Disney Lego Store, where the weapons we picked from sets would have become real for us to use against the villains.

The main plot for this one would’ve ended with Sons of Garmadon, which in a terrifying twist, would have seen us returning to the Fantasyland suit to find Harumi waiting for us (and yes, this twist is why I gave us the ultra princess-y suit to stay in!)

We would have worked together with the time twins and the ninja themselves to un-merge the realms before Harumi could fully start her conquest by completing the resurrection.

The archive for this one has its own whole side blog, but if you’d like me to post a list of rides and their corresponding villains/seasons, or are even interested in a possible revival this coming summer, just hit me up!

🏮🏮🏮

The last abandoned RP is so old it was on deviantart, but thank you so much @onyxcia-greystone for your amazing storytelling with the Morro-centric RPs of ours.

I’m sorry that the horrific combination of high school plus writer’s block stopped the RP dead in its tracks. Even though I feel like too different of a person now to go back and finish it, I’m glad to have been taken on such a thrill ride and that your RP turned out so well. Writing Morro is always fun!

#day of the departed #dotd #ninjago dotd #slumber party of the departed #ninjagoland #a quick update #ninjago #halloween #? i guess #might delete later

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translations-by-aiimee · 4 years ago

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Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 7

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

TW for this chapter: Suicide Attempt

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 7 - Panic in the Medicated Bath

Song Qingshi searched the warehouse all night and finally found old robes made of red ice silk. He dismantled the decorative formation above, handed it over to the valley servants, and asked them to modify them to look like inner robes overnight. Then, he quietly put them on the bedside of Yue Wuhuan along with the new cotton gown.

The next day, Yue Wuhuan was shocked when he saw this ice silk robe.

Song Qingshi has urged him up from outside the door: "Hurry up, let's go for a new treatment."

"Yes, Master." Yue Wuhuan knew that he had changed masters, so he didn't dare to think too much. He put on his clothes and went out in a hurry, feeling much more comfortable in this outfit.

Song Qingshi took him through the corridor and went to the alchemy room next door. This was originally a forbidden place in the Medicine King Valley. A place where the original body used animals and humans to experiment with various medicines. It was also the place where the valley servants were most afraid of entering. Song Qingshi complied with the "Declaration of Helsinki" and rejected any human experiment that violated ethics. Fortunately, when he took over being the Medicine Master, there were not many test items left by the original body. He immediately released what he could release and helped those that needed help, and then changed it to a treatment room. The remaining specimens and general teachers are placed in other rooms - these were the big treasures of medicine, and he would study slowly when he had some free time.

Yue Wuhuan was walking towards the alchemy room and found that more than one valley servants cast sympathetic glances his way, and he became a little nervous. After entering the alchemy room, when he saw Song Qing take out a medicine vat big enough to fit a person in, he became more paranoid.

Song Qingshi didn't notice his anxiety. He threw the various medicinal materials that had been counted ahead of time into the tank, then poured water and used the alchemical fire in his body to control the temperature. After the water in the tank turned red, he turned back and said: "Take off your clothes and get in."

Yue Wuhuan stood still, his eyes stiffened when he looked at him.

"Don't be afraid," Song Qingshi finally remembered that he had forgotten to explain. "The Prince’s Plume Expelling Decoction is a medicinal bath. It won't cause discomfort."

Yue Wuhuan hesitated for a moment before stretching his hand to the belt and untying it.

Song Qingshi turned around, sat down with his back to him, not peeking at him entering the bath.

Yue Wuhuan breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly removed his clothes, and stepped into the bloody medicinal water. The hot liquid medicine penetrated into the skin, causing a slight tingling sensation, but there was indescribable comfort. He took a deep breath, relaxed completely, and suddenly sank his whole person into the water. He didn't expect that the water would overflow because it was too full. It splashed on Song Qingshi’s neck, ears and hair. A pale red flower blossomed on his white robe.

For most Daoists, the robe was a very important thing and any damage would cause heartache.

Yue Wuhuan realized his mistake and sneaked out of the water quietly. He hid in the tank and peeked out, worried that he would offend Xianzun.

Song Qingshi didn't care what happened. He stared at the bluestone on the ground in a daze. After a while, he discreetly shook the water droplets on his hair.

Yue Wuhuan picked his words carefully and asked cautiously: "Master, will you turn around so that this slave can clean you?"

Song Qingshi lowered his head and looked at the bluestone more attentively: "You are bathing, you can't peek." In his world view, it was reasonable for doctors to check the patient's physical condition during treatment, but if the doctor peeks at the patient trying to take a bath, it was morally corrupt and shameless.

Yue Wuhuan pondered these words for a long time, and guessed: "Does Master dislike that this slave's body is too dirty?"

Song Qingshi shook his head and whispered: "You don't like being watched."

"Master jokes." Yue Wuhuan's eyes hardened, and he was silent for a moment, peeking out of the water. His long hair wet sat on his shoulders, just like a mermaid who just came out of the sea. His body was otherworldly, and his muscles were perfectly proportioned with no hint of fat. His waist was slender enough to be held with one arm, but there was hidden power inside. He leaned against the edge of the bath, approached Song Qingshi’s ear, blowing lightly. His phoenix eyes were extremely charming, the red tear-shaped mole was so gorgeous that it could charm people’s hearts, and his voice was as tempting as the devil. "What is there not to see on this slave's body? The people who have seen it. . . there were too many to count. They all say that the slave's body is very beautiful and defined, and it can stop a man in his tracks. It was made to be adored. . ."

Song Qingshi quickly interrupted him, repeating: "You don't like being watched."

After Yue Wuhuan watched him for a long time, he said hoarsely: "This slave doesn't care anymore."

Song Qingshi didn't know how to explain, but insisted: "You don't like it."

Can he refuse just because he doesn't like it?

Yue Wuhuan thought this was ridiculous. In the years when he was just sent to accompany guests, he was coaxed to say that he didn't like it and didn't want it. The result was only meant to find his weaknesses for their amusement.

He didn't like to be seen, so that meant he was forced to show the most unbearable postures to everyone in the square and at banquets time and time again.

He doesn't like saying those lewd things, so he was tortured by various drugs and instruments of torture until he learned to use his voice to add to the excitement. . .

Until he abandoned his sense of shame, gave up his dignity, and pretended to enjoy these things.

He had known for a long time that in the eyes of these stupid cultivators, he was just a beautiful toy, without emotions, existing just to be moulded into whatever his master wanted. He often wished that he could go mad and be stupid, like most slaves, and lose his ability to think. He could mindlessly live a dog-like life and using his body to please his master.

It's a pity that there was always a trace of clarity in his heart, coldly examining his embarrassing self, and then cutting him to pieces. . .

Maybe he had already gone crazy. . .

He couldn’t tell when the fire rose slowly. The temperature of the potion was getting hotter and hotter. Yue Wuhuan’s face also became hotter and hotter, but he couldn’t feel the scorching heat and dipped his head into the bloody-red potion until water flooded up his nose and he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to get up, hoping to just stay submerged forever so that the hot water could clean the filth off his body, preferably right down to his bones.

Song Qingshi noticed something was wrong from the quietness behind him. He turned his head and found that he had been distracted when they were speaking and did not control the Red Lotus fire well. The water temperature rose several degrees and it was so hot that Yue Wuhuan had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. Song Qingshi didn't move cautiously, got up and rushed over, reaching into the tank to get the person out.

The wet beauty was dragged into his arms. His eyes were closed and his limbs drooped feebly. His long curling hair clung to his fair skin, dripping onto the ground, making the Acacia Seal on his back shimmer. Song Qingshi's mind was clear. He quickly laid the person on the ground, confirmed he still had a pulse and started CPR.

Yue Wuhuan spit up water and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find that Song Qingshi’s face was so close to his. He could even see his own reflection in his clear, black eyes. Because of the heat from the tank, Song Qingshi's eyes were heated and red, with water droplets clinging to his long eyelashes. He looked like a naive and innocent boy, nothing like an ancestor of the Nascent Soul sect who had practiced for nearly a thousand years, deceiving and cheating death itself.

He hadn't recognized the other party's true identity by the river at the time. He had wanted to sympathize with a man who would never experience an unjust death.

Yue Wuhuan's thoughts became more and more chaotic. He curled up subconsciously, and all kinds of messy memories flashed in front of him. The tenderness in his chest and the remaining warmth on his lips made him a little confused between reality and his memories as if he had returned to when he was punished by his masters.

Scholar-Tyrant Song almost failed his class, so scared that his soul almost flew away. His movements were as fierce as a tiger, relying entirely on instinct. After Yue Wuhuan woke up, he breathed a sigh of relief. However, he realized that there were many ways to treat drowning in the world of cultivating immortals, and there was no need to use modern first aid at all.

He wouldn't be able to clearly explain this. . .

It was standard for medical students to perform CPR on a drowning victim. Regardless of whether it was someone beautiful or ugly, a child or an old man, he would do it without hesitation. Song Qingshi was a little embarrassed that he hadn't figured out the best first aid technique for the immortal world ahead of time, but he can worry about that later. He just had to figure out how to explain it.

Yue Wuhuan had lost the focus in his eyes. He slowly unfolded his body, no longer covering it up, like a fish that was forcibly dragged ashore to die, preparing to be slaughtered.

Song Qingshi quickly turned his face away, closed his eyes, and apologized honestly: "I'm sorry, I made a mistake with the temperature of the water."

"It's not Master's fault," Yue Wuhuan's eyes were open, but he couldn't make out anything around him. He was listening, but he couldn't understand what was being said. He repeated his standard answer, "It's my fault, it's my fault. . ."

This is the truth that he had paid a heavy price to learn and had been instilled in him over and over again, always reminding him how to live.

"Wuhuan, you are so beautiful, you were born to be played with."

"Wuhuan, it's your body that seduces men, so it must be abused."

"Wuhuan, it's because you are so aloof that it makes me not want to stop."

"Wuhuan, you are a monster born for sex."

"Yue Wuhuan, it's all your fault."

. . .

"My fault, my fault, my fault. . ." Yue Wuhuan kept repeating numbly, "It's all my fault."

Because he was the wrong that existed in the world.

Song Qingshi took off his robe and put it on Yue Wuhuan, and suddenly realized that the mental state of the person in front of him was very fragile, as though he were caught in a terrifying trap. He thought for a while and gritted his teeth. He stretched out his hand to slap him but hesitated, so he got up and brought a bucket of cold water next to him. He used the freezing technique and poured it down suddenly over his head. Yue Wuhuan was shocked by the cold, and his mind cleared somewhat. Song Qingshi took the opportunity to give him the Tranquil Mind Spirit Calming Pill to take.

"Master?" Yue Wuhuan came to his senses, a little confused.

"It's okay." Song Qingshi took the towels and clothes he had prepared earlier, wrapped him up layer and layer like a dumpling, and then gave a rational explanation, "You were hallucinating because you almost drowned."

Yue Wuhuan nodded blankly.

Song Qingshi determined that he had wrapped the dumpling tight enough. He stopped, satisfied, and ordered: "Wear more in the future."

Yue Wuhuan looked at him and asked anxiously: "This slave can wear more?"

Song Qingshi eagerly educated him: "Autumn is coming soon. It's going to be cold. You must wear more to avoid catching a cold."

"Thank you Master for your pity." Yue Wuhuan responded softly as soon as he was sure that he was not toying with him. He clutched his clothes tightly. For some reason, he suddenly remembered that when he first entered Golden Phoenix Manor, he was forced to take off all his clothes and was reduced to being a plaything.

Now, this seemingly deceptive man had personally helped him put on his clothes piece by piece, as though he were trying to convince him of something. . .

Because the medicated bath had been interrupted, the effect had not been fully achieved.

Song Qingshi busied himself adding water to the medicine tank and re-adjusting the temperature.

Yue Wuhuan sat quietly on the ground watching him work for his sake, lost in thought. Suddenly, he later realized that the never-ending burning sensation in his body had died down. He moved his body slightly and was surprised to find that the sensitivity caused by drugs had also greatly decreased, and the friction of the cloth was no longer causing him discomfort.

He tried to find an answer, but couldn't understand it. He finally plucked up the courage to ask, "Master, what is the purpose of the Prince's Plume Expelling Decoction. . .?"

"Huh?" Song Qingshi stopped and froze for a while. He found that he had again fallen into the scholar-tyrant's bad habit. His mind was moving too fast. He always felt that others would understand as long as he gave a name or an answer, regardless of whether others were following his thoughts or not.

Song Qingshi was a good academic who knew how to accept his mistakes and correct them. He reorganized his words several times in his mind and chose the simplest explanation, "Your body has been corroded by many drugs, so it causes great discomfort. The Prince's Plume Expelling Decoction can be used to remove the drug residues in your body. This medicinal bath needs to be taken five times, and the last two times will be taken with Muscle Generating Flower and Snow Toad Cake added to help repair the old wounds. When that happens, it might be itchy and uncomfortable but we can't use anesthetics. Don’t worry, you just need to endure that stage, and the body will return to its original state. . ."

Song Qingshi couldn’t bear to say it: Those people didn’t care about whether Yue Wuhuan lived or died. All kinds of aphrodisiacs were used uncontrollably on him, causing conflicts of various drug properties in his body and residual excess. If the drugs had continued to be used, he wouldn't have made it another few years.

"I was overdosed on drugs. . . Yes, they thought I was boring," Yue Wuhuan wrapped his clothes tightly around his frame, reluctant to let go. He hesitated for a long time but decided to control the unwillingness in his heart and explain clearly what Song Qingshi would figure out sooner or later. He was so confused that he once again forgot how he was supposed to address himself, "Master, without the medicine, my body will not respond to men. You won't be able to find pleasure in me. I-I'm not used to those things, only with the help of drugs. . ."

Song Qingshi interrupted his incoherent speech: "Don't do things that make you uncomfortable."

"You don't need to be nice to me." The more Yue Wuhuan opened his heart, the more fear he felt. He was like a bewildered child, desperately saying, "I have nothing, the only thing I can give you is this body. . ."

Song Qingshi realized that he wasn't in a good emotional state right now and turned away. He knew he should do psychological intervention now, but the words in his heart that he had practiced thousands of times all disappeared the minute he opened his mouth. He couldn't say anything sweet and comforting. He was clearly extremely upset, but in the end, his thoughts could only be condensed into two words: "You have."

The Yue Wuhuan in his heart was the kid who had practiced his swordsmanship under the peach blossom tree, the boy who dreamt of becoming a cultivator with a mortal body.

The Yue Wuhuan he saw in his eyes was a soaring phoenix in the heavens, the brightest star in the night, but with its wings broken and covered in dust.

Song Qingshi walked step by step, firm in every step.

Yue Wuhuan tried to force himself to calm down, but he couldn't stop his body from trembling, and he wanted to retreat.

Song Qingshi squatted down on his knees and looked meaningfully into his eyes.

Yue Wuhuan felt that he couldn't retreat.

Song Qingshi promised word by word: "I will and return to you whatever you had before, and I will give you everything you want."

Yue Wuhuan's breathing became short. He still couldn't understand what this promise meant, but he understood the seriousness and determination in Song Qingshi's eyes. He asked carefully: "What do you need me to do?"

Song Qingshi asked: "Don't try to commit suicide again, okay?"

Yue Wuhuan thought for a long time and finally nodded.

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #song qingshi #yue wuhuan

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rubymoon-snape · 4 years ago

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Disclaimer: I don't own Thundercats (1985), but I do own Ruby.

Summary: Pumyra has a nightmare of the day Thundera exploded, but she lost more than her home planet that day. Her mate had perished as well or so she had thought.

Author Note: This is Pumyra/OC (named Ruby). This starts off with Pumyra, Bengali, and Lynx-O trying to escape the destruction of Thundera. The beginning part comes directly from the movie, "Thundercats Ho!"

"Reunion"

Pumyra, Begali, and Lynx-O were running to board their ship.

"There's the ship that was assigned to us! Hurry!" Bengali called out.

Another tremor shook the planet, causing a chasm to open and the ship to fall over and explode.

"The ship!" Pumyra exclaimed. Her eyes widened in realization. "No! Ruby!"

Bengali wrapped his arms around his friend. "I'm so sorry, Pumyra. I know you and she were close."

"She was my mate." A tear slid down Pumyra's cheek.

"Our poor countrymen," Lynx-O added.

"Look! Another ship ready to take off!" Bengali drew their attention to the royal flagship.

"Let's try to reach it," Pumyra sniffled.

A fiery pillar fell over, blocking their path and blinding Lynx-O, causing him to cry out. Bengali and Pumyra paused and went over to his side.

"Lynx-O, are you all right?"

"I-I-I think I've been blinded, Pumyra. You and Bengali run for the ship. Leave me!"

"No! We will not abandon you, old friend. Get his other side, Pumyra!" Bengali had already grabbed his friend's right arm and draped it over his shoulders, and Pumyra did the same.

The three of them walked towards the ship slowly.

"No! I'm holding you back!"

"Don't argue, Lynx-O. I'm not losing another loved one! We're almost there!"

The three stumbled slightly on their trek, and the ship took off.

"Hey! They're leaving!" Pumyra exclaimed.

"They have no choice, Pumyra. A second more and they would have been destroyed by the quake!" Bengali reasoned.

%%%

Bengali was sleeping peacefully next to Pumyra, who was having a nightmare of the time she lost not only her planet but her mate as well. Tears were coursing down her cheeks, and she twitched in her sleep, disturbing Bengali who woke up. He realized what was going on and reached over to shake her awake.

"Pumyra! Open your eyes, please."

The puma's eyes flew open in slight panic, her breaths coming in pants. "Ben-Bengali?"

He drew her into his arms, providing comfort to his best friend. "Was it Thundera?"

She clutched onto the white tiger. "Yes."

Neither one mentioned it was also the time she lost her mate as she was also assigned to the same ship they were, the one that exploded. She still felt the loss as keenly as she did that very day.

Just then, an alarm sounded in the tower, and the two rushed to the control room, where Lynx-O was typing away on the Braille Board.

"What is it, Lynx-O?" Bengali asked.

"We are getting a distress call from space. It has a Thunderian signal."

"We should contact Cats' Lair and form a rescue party," Pumyra suggested.

"That's a good idea, Pumyra. Tower of Omens calling Cats' Lair. Does anyone hear me?"

"This is Cats' Lair. Go ahead, Lynx-O. Is there a problem?"

"You could say that, Tygra. We received a distress call from a damaged Thunderian ship."

"We just received the same one and were about to assemble a rescue party," Tygra replied.

"I want to join you. There might be injuries I can take care of," Pumyra offered.

"We're sending Kit and Kat over with the Thunderclaw, and you can ride it back, so you can join us in the Feliner," Lion-O mentioned.

"Understood."

"Cats' Lair out." The view screen went black.

"Are you sure you're okay with going, Pumyra?" Bengali asked.

"Yes, Bengali. A relief mission is what I need to take my mind off of it."

"Another nightmare, Pumyra?" Lynx-O asked.

"Yes. It's not unexpected. It's been a year since the destruction."

Bengali wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze as they waited for Kit and Kat to arrive, which didn't take too long. The kittens landed the Thunderclaw outside the tower and passed Pumyra, who was anxious to get going. She boarded the craft and flew it to Cats' Lair. She landed it in the hangar under the left cat's paw and hopped out, heading for the Feliner, where Tygra, Lion-O, and Panthro were going over the pre-flight check-list.

"Are we ready to go?" Pumyra asked.

"Just about. Go ahead and climb aboard," Panthro answered.

Pumyra climbed in and took a seat in the back. She couldn't explain it, but something was telling her that she had to be on the relief mission. She didn't tell anyone, but she never ignored it when she got one of those feelings.

It wasn't much longer before the three males joined her, and they took off in the direction the distress signal was coming from. They noticed the damaged ship was an older model and was just drifting in space. They tried calling the crew, but no one answered. They managed to land on and board the ship.

The four of them searched the various rooms, not coming across anyone until they reached the second room. Pumyra rushed forward and checked for a pulse, not finding one. She shook her head. The old tigress wasn't alive. They continued their search and came upon several more dead Thunderians.

They reached the main bridge, and Pumyra continuously checked everyone for a pulse. She was getting dismayed at all the dead surrounding her. She turned around to check the next body and paused, sure she was seeing things. The fair-skinned Thunderian laying face down had purple hair, which was an unusual color. The tips of her hair were so dark that they looked black. Pumyra reached out with shaking hands and felt the side of her neck for a pulse.

"This one's alive!" Pumyra felt around her chest under her blue sleeveless tank top and was relieved to find no broken ribs. She gently turned her over, and she gasped. The dual, red cheek stripes were a distinctive and highly unusual trait that she had only seen on one cat, her mate, Ruby, but hadn't she perished on Thundera?

Noticing Pumyra was starting to shake, Tygra came over to her side. "What's wrong, Pumyra?"

"I-I-Can you-This is.." Pumyra took a breath.

Tygra understood what she was trying to say. "Go check the others for a pulse, and I will determine her condition."

Pumyra hesitantly nodded and checked the remaining Thunderians for anyone else who may be alive. However, no one else was alive. Pumyra made her way back to Ruby's side. "How is she?"

"She doesn't seem to be injured, just unconscious. We should take her back to the Lair. I take it you recognize her."

Pumyra nodded. "She's my mate, but I could have sworn she perished when the planet exploded."

"How certain are you that this is her?"

"Her cheek stripes are an unusual trait. I haven't seen anyone else with stripes. Her parents named her Ruby because of them."

"She sounds certain to me," Panthro spoke up. "Let's head back to the Feliner."

Tygra gently picked up the unconscious cougar and carried her to the Feliner. He laid her down in the back, and Pumyra sat down next to her head. She brushed her hand through her purple hair, caressed her cheek stripes, and smoothed down her blue shirt and black pants. She couldn't believe she was reunited with her mate after all this time and also couldn't wait to hear how she survived the explosion of the ship there were assigned to.

Pumyra was so focused on her mate that she didn't realize when they had left the ship or when they arrived back on Third Earth. When she didn't move, Tygra gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Pumyra?"

"Huh? Oh, Tygra."

"Let's take her to a room, and let her wake on her own."

Pumyra nodded and let Tygra take Ruby to an empty room, following close. She sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Are you sure she's okay?"

"Yes. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes. I would like Bengali to be here too."

"I'll give him a call." Tygra left the room, leaving the two females alone.

Pumyra grasped Ruby's left hand. "How did you survive? How did you get on that ship? How many nights have I dreamed of being reunited with you?"

"Too...many."

Pumyra watched as her mate's red eyes opened slowly and her pointed ears twitch. "Ruby, you're awake."

""Myra, is it really you?"

"It's me."

Ruby slowly sat up, and the two hugged. "I can't believe we're together again."

"Ruby? It can't be!"

The two females separated and turned to the door, where Bengali was standing. "Bengali, it's good to see you."

"How did you survive? Weren't you assigned to the same ship we were?"

"Yes, but you know me. I couldn't be on time to save my life, and ironically, that did save my life. I was late coming to the ship, but I caught a ride on a different ship. True, they had too many people for such an older ship, but they couldn't just leave me there, especially since I am a healer." Ruby patted the smaller one of her blue hip bags.

Pumyra noticed that there were two hip bags instead of one. "What's in the other bag?"

Ruby grinned. "It's my collapsible bow. I just need arrows to use it. So, where am I?"

"You are on Third Earth in Cats' Lair. The Thundercats rescued you and brought you here." The three Thunderians looked at the door, where Tygra was standing. "It's good to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Better than I had, now that I'm back with 'Myra." Ruby grasped Pumyra's hand again. Pumyra smiled and settled on the bed next to her mate. She was finally reunited with her mate and was never going to be separated from her again.

Fin

#80s thundercats #thundercats #Pumyra/OC #pumyra #Bengali #Tygra #Lynx-O #f/o x s/i #writing

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joezworld · 4 years ago

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Memories

A continuation of this

January 29, 2020

“Well, despite my extensive protestations, I cannot find any reason whatsoever to keep you here.” Anton, the head of the Crovan’s Gate diesel shop, said as he shut his toolbox with a petulant clang.

55 010 and Wendell looked at each other with no small amount of relief. Since the events of Christmas, the works had been beside themselves in trying to find a cause of 010′s existence as well as fixing the damage to Wendell’s chassis from when he fell off the jack stands on Christmas day.

A naturally superstitious man, Anton had refused to clear 010 for traffic until he went over her with a fine-toothed comb. This was a process that had taken over a month, and had insulted Wendell more than it had 010, as the Class 47 had believed that Anton was looking for a way to keep 010 out of traffic (he was), while the Deltic - who hadn’t been properly serviced since the late 1970′s - found the whole process very therapeutic.

All that being said, the pair were anxious to get out of the sheds and onto the main line once again - Wendell wanted to stretch his wheels properly, while 010 was deeply excited to see the bright future of the year 2020.

Anton left, shutting off the lights behind him. The two engines would have kept talking, but they’d honestly exhausted their conversational reserves after being together for over a month, so instead they fell asleep, dreaming of the world outside the sheds...

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

December 26, 1981

Doncaster Station, Doncaster, South Yorkshire, England

55 010 sleepily opened one eye to the sounds of an argument. Some men were clustered around the Class 47 that was on the siding. They sounded like they were trying to figure out what to do with her.

One group was saying that she should be shoved onto the out of use lines, while the others were saying that doing that would take too long. The 47 seemed to be stuck in the middle, unsure of which side to take. At one point, he opened his mouth to agree with the shunting plan, before he stopped. A flurry of emotions passed across his face in an instant, before he shut his mouth, glared at the men he’d been about to agree with, and put his wheel down.

“I’m not going to miss my path and spend all day in passing loops just to put her away - look at all the switches you’d have to hand throw! It’d take ages!”

With that the other men now held a majority, so without much more discussion the 47 was coupled up to her, and the train set off for parts unknown.

“Where are we going?” She’d sleepily asked the 47 - who’d introduced himself as number 556 - as they rattled across the Pennines.

“Dunno,” He’d said quietly - they were coupled face-to-face, and she felt vaguely bad that he was driving backwards on her behalf. “Some coach depot I’ve never heard of - Titfield or Tidmouse or something like that.”

December 27, 1981

Tidmouth Station, Tidmouth, Tidmouth and South Haltraughshire, Sodor

47 556 and 55 010 eventually made it across the bridge and onto the Island very early on the morning of the 27th. It was a quiet little Island railway out here in the west country, and they met few trains on their way by.

A class 86 shouted hello from an electrified branch.

A old Hymek, somehow still in service, honked amiably as he passed with a goods train.

Even an old blue steam engine clattered by on a rail tour. This one looked at them funny, but the expected malice wasn’t there, merely confusion at the unusual double-header.

Eventually arriving at the big station at the end of the line, the two engines were met by a older gentleman in a top hat.

He introduced himself as the Controller for the region, and asked what they were doing here.

As 556 explained why he was also carrying a broken-down Deltic on his train, 010′s attention wandered to the rest of the station.

It was a beautiful design, like King's Cross, or Euston before they ruined it, but the roof of the trainshed was simply covered in soot - it was almost like they hadn’t cleaned it since before the end of steam.

Then there was a whistle from outside the platforms.

Both diesels goggled as a tender engine, painted an almost gaudy shade of bright blue with red lining, rolled into the station with a train of teak coaches.

At almost the same time, two more whistles were heard, and a train of GWR autocoaches complete with a Pannier Tank in the middle rattled in alongside a green saddle tank engine of indeterminate origin towing a pair of ancient compartment coaches.

“What is that?” 010 asked, shocked to see clean and well-maintained steam this far into the 1980s.

“Those are Gordon, Duck, and Percy.” Said the controller kindly.

“Are they all on rail tours?” Asked 556, causing the controller to laugh.

“No! They’re my engines! They work every day because they’re still useful.”

Neither diesel said anything. 556 was shocked that BR was allowing this to happen, but 010 suddenly felt a surge of hope. If they were still running steam here, maybe she could convince 556 to leave her here on his way home...

Something must have shown in her face - or maybe even 556′s, because the next thing the controller said was: “If I may, my railroad is currently experiencing a locomotive shortage. We have to keep relying on the other railway for temporary engines, but they aren’t the most reliable. Would either of you happen to know where I could find some strong, hardworking locomotives?”

They stabled 556 and 010 in the sheds with the steam engines over the New Year’s holiday. It was an almost out-of-body experience for 010, who was used to the cold and unfriendly atmosphere of Finsbury Park TMD, and had no idea how to deal with engines who, when told to treat her nicely, immediately made sure to include her in their singing of Auld Lang Syne.

A few weeks later, both engines had been successfully outshopped at the massive works complex in the west of the island. 556 had required little repairs, but had rolled out with a new coat of paint and a new name, Wendell, chosen after a friendly dog that hung around the works.

It took longer for 010. She had many, many worn out parts that required removal and repair, and her engines needed a full overhaul. During this time period, some of the female welding staff had spoken to her about needing to choose a name before one was chosen for her - apparently the Hymek she’d seen was named Bear, and she didn’t want that did she?

After a few days with books on baby names, a set of brass nameplates were bolted to her sides - they read “DAPHNE” in big letters.

While she was there, the workmen asked her what she wanted to be painted. When her request for a new coat of Rail Blue was met with groans, the men explained that they were bored of normal paint schemes and would paint anything she wanted.

Two weeks later she rolled out of the works feeling like a new engine. Her motors fired on all cylinders, her grease and oil was fresh, and her new paint sparkled in the sun. She’d always liked how Deltic - The Deltic, DP1 - had looked, and the men had grinned at each other when she told them about how the irritable prototype had spent most of his free time whining about not having stripes that went the whole way down his body.

Daphne found out why when she rolled into Tidmouth Shed that night. There was another express diesel on this island - a big Class 46 - and the similarities were striking. Both had similar designs, and had non-standard paint - the 46 was red, she was blue - with gold stripes down their sides. The 46 was named Delta - a very similar sounding name, and when she opened her eyes and took in Daphne and her nameplates, it took her all of two seconds to begin smiling broadly.

“You look like you could be my big sister!” She said.

Daphne, expecting some sort of hostility, wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, all of my sisters are dead, so it would be nice to have one again.”

She began to backpedal when the 46 stopped smiling, but the look she gave was thoughtful instead of hurt. “Come to think of it, all of mine are probably dead too. Shall we make our own family then?”

And so it was.

A few weeks later, Daphne and Wendell finally met all but one of the other diesels on the region - a Class 28 named BoCo, Bear the Hymek, and Daisy, a deeply customized Class 101. According to Daisy, there was also a Class 01 named Mavis who worked on a private quarry at the end of her branch line.

“You know,” Daisy said after Delta finished introducing everyone. “Aside from having one of each power rating, I think all of us but Wendell would have been scrapped by now if we were on the mainland. I think we should do something to celebrate the fact that we aren’t dead.”

The other diesels agreed - word had already spread about Delta and Daphne’s nontraditional sisterhood - and they agreed to form a club: the Non-Standard Survivors Society.

“But, I’m not non-standard?” Wendell asked as they dispersed. “Am I?”

“No, but you are really cute,” Delta joked. “So we’ll give you a pass.”

Daisy chuckled as she headed for the platform. “I’ll have to remember that when I tell Mavis about this club she’s in now.”

Daphne was confused. “Cute? What do you mean cute?”

Wendell was similarly puzzled.

Bear and Delta looked at each other meaningfully. “You two have so much to learn...” The type 3 said as he backed into the station.

That didn’t make Daphne or Wendell feel any better!

1983

“You know,” Said Delta one morning in the newly-refurbished diesel shed. “We should have nicknames for the society.”

“My name is Bear,” Said Bear. “yours is a Greek letter. How much more nickname-y can we get?”

“The rest of us should get nicknames then. And I feel like I could get a great nickname, like Tiger Stripes!”

Daphne giggled as Bear growled under his breath. “And why, pray tell, are you Tiger Stripes?”

“Because I’m fierce like a tiger! And I have stripes like a tiger does! It also matches the animal theme we’re going with.” Either Delta could think at a mile a minute, or she had been considering these nicknames for a lot longer than she let on.

“A tiger does not have stripes like you do.”

“How do you know?”

“My name is Bear. I know about animals. I have to.”

“I figured it was so that we could be ‘Lions, Tigers, and Bears, oh my!’” Quipped Daphne. “I guess that makes me Lion Stripes then.”

Delta’s sputtering and spluttering made it very clear that she hadn’t thought of that, and Bear and Daphne roared with laughter.

Later that year

The Thin Clergyman’s son made another trip to Sodor to research for his next books.

Daphne, as an express engine, had been rather removed from the strife among the rank-and-file engines caused by the Thin Clergyman’s books, and had no idea why Delta wanted to hide from him.

After a “short” explanation that took almost an hour, Daphne was now furious.

While she did help Delta by hiding her deep inside an old carriage shed, she did not stay there herself; She was an engine of action, and would deal with the problem directly.

Two days later, the Clergyman’s Son approached her to ask her some questions.

“If my sister shows up in one of your books you won’t survive to write another.” She said darkly to the author, who retreated immediately!

The Clergyman’s Son’s next book focused about Diesels and James. Much to everyone’s amusement, Delta was nowhere to be found in it, despite her being being the biggest reason why James was more accepting of diesels.

Unsurprisingly, Daphne did not appear either, and everyone wondered if the story of the rude diesel who crashed through a wall was based on her in some way. Delta, on the other wheel, stayed uncharacteristically silent!

Wendell was most offended that they hadn’t even bothered to include his name in the book, and refused to speak to the Clergyman’s Son again!

1985

Bear and Wendell had both gotten very scruffy looking after several years without a repaint, and went into the works with the intent of coming out looking the same as they had before.

They had reckoned without Delta and Daphne, who had very kindly asked the paint shop workers to be imaginative on their friends.

Bear had rolled out first, looking furious about the deception, but rather pleased with his paint. The men had been inspired by some American locomotives, and he rolled out of the shop in a dark shade of green with metallic gold stripes down his sides. Any lingering discontent he had felt lasted until Henry saw him for the first time and dragged him away behind a shed without a word. Daphne tried to ask what was going on, but Delta, laughing too hard to even speak, had pulled her away to the station.

Wendell came out a few days later. Whatever the men had originally tried hadn’t been to his liking, he explained, and he’d asked them to try a different design from the same book that they’d pulled Bear’s paint scheme from. When he came into the sheds painted a glossy black with grey and white stripes, Daphne felt both of her crankshafts do a flip-flop.

Delta took one look at the slack jawed expression on her adopted sister’s face and sighed deeply. How had Jamie seen this coming before she did?

It took all of a week for Bear and Wendell to have nicknames foisted on them by the express sisters - Ursus and Cobra stripes, respectively. Delta explained that she liked the predatory animal theme that went with Lion and Tiger, while Daphne innocently pointed out that it had absolutely nothing to do with how much it annoyed Bear.

The nicknames did eventually stick though, in no small part because Henry had taken one look at how irritated Bear was and started calling him Ursus!

It took a month after that for Tiger Stripes to take pity on her sister and the piteous faces she made when she thought Wendell wasn’t looking, pulled a Flying Scotsman, and told her and Cobra Stripes exactly what those feelings meant. She was very unsurprised when Wendell revealed that he was also growing attracted to Daphne.

Henry and James both joked that one day, Bear or Delta would put one of them through a wall, but three weeks later, Daphne managed to put herself and Wendell into the parking lot behind Barrow Sheds.

1990

After realizing that Mavis and Daisy both technically had stripes painted on them (making them Wasp and Cougar stripes), the other diesels began to seriously peer pressure BoCo into getting repainted with stripes so they could complete the set.

He’d held out for many years, but after Daphne took a special train to the clay pits, there was suddenly pressure from within the Brendam Branch as well, and he folded like a house of cards in less than a week.

When he came back from the works, he was now green, gold, and white, but also red, if you counted the angry blush on his face.

“I asked them for Southern Railway Green with a gold stripe.” He seethed. “But clearly there was a misunderstanding.”

The howling from his compatriots was earthshakingly unsympathetic, but nobody could deny that he looked striking, and he was quickly dubbed Jaguar Stripes, even though - as he and Bear were quick to note - he did not look like a Jaguar at all.

1995

James asked Delta to marry him. The other engines were overjoyed, even if they BoCo and Daisy needed some catching up on how exactly that was possible.

Daisy groaned. “Mavis and I are going to have to have a talk, aren’t we?”

The other diesels - which by this point included James and Henry in an honorary capacity - hadn’t quite processed that when BoCo announced that if he was being honest, he and Edward were “so emotionally codependent that we’ve probably been married for twenty years without realizing it.”

Henry couldn’t take it any more and screeched with laughter at the conversational disparities - he’d just left the steam sheds, where the engines were still unaware that London had multiple termini, and were therefore having a rousing argument as to whether the impending fall of British Rail meant that London’s terminus station would magically return to being King’s Cross or Paddington instead of the current Euston.

1996

James and Delta were wed in a quiet ceremony behind the diesel shed - Siobhan, her fiancé Declan, and all the members of the “Non Standard Society” - including Mavis, who traveled down specially for the event - were present, with Daphne and Henry acting as bridesmaid and best man.

By design, the engines had arrived in pairs, with only BoCo “going stag”, as he hadn’t yet told Edward how he felt. The officiant - a kind looking man from the Arlesburgh judiciary - had taken one look at the rest of them and asked if he should be preparing for any other weddings in the near future. Daphne and Wendell were the only ones to say yes instinctively. (Much to each other’s surprise!) When Daphne looked over at Bear and Henry, they said with no small amount of irritation that it wasn’t legal yet for them to be wed. Similar grumblings then erupted from Mavis and Daisy, which briefly made the quiet ceremony very loud, as none of the other engines had been aware that either diesel was dating!

2000

Dull yellow smoke billowed out of Percy’s funnel as the men did a pressure test. Before Daphne or Wendell could do anything, they were enveloped by the choking cloud.

Daphne shut her eyes to avoid getting any of the strange metallic soot in her eyes, and when she opened them again, the works looked... different somehow.

A few of the new inspection pits were gone, while the diesel shop building had one less door than it should.

Daphne opened her mouth to ask Wendell what was going on, and then stopped dead in her tracks when a workman ran right through her.

Looking down at herself, she appeared to be fully transparent, floating above the rails like a ghost of Deltics past.

“Who are you?!” Wendell squeaked.

Daphne looked at him for a moment. His paint was a different colour than it had been a minute ago - Rail Blue instead of Black and Gray - and he seemed like he didn’t remember her at all.

“Cobra,” She said, not even thinking that this was not the time for nicknames. “It’s me, Lion. You know me.”

“I know exactly who you are.” He said frantically. “You’re the ghost of the engine I killed! It’s not Christmas! Begone with you!”

“What?!” Daphne was horrified. “Wendell, what on Earth are you talking about!? Nobody’s dead! How can you say that?!”

“Don’t you overreact here Lion!” Wendell snapped. “I should be the one screaming! Ignoring whatever it is you are, there are dinosaurs eating the ballast! That water tower has a face!”

Daphne suddenly understood that there was something in the yellow smoke that was making both of them see things that weren’t there. With that in mind, she spent most of the next few hours keeping Wendell calm until the hallucinations stopped, and he turned back into the black and gray diesel she’d fallen in love with.

A few weeks later, and Daphne asked Wendell about what he saw in the yellow smoke.

“I saw a bunch of brightly coloured horses singing about friendship. Why?”

“Just curious...” Daphne said as she realized that maybe her hallucinations had been much stronger than she thought!

Later That Same Year

A new high speed trainset arrived on Sodor. Their names were Pip and Emma.

They had been on the island once before in the early 80′s, but somehow none of the diesels had met them in anything other than passing.

After three nights on Sodor, Delta declared that she liked them and was “keeping them”, giving them no choice in the matter on the subject of express engine sisterhood. Daphne explained that Delta was less of an engine and more of a force of nature, to which Emma responded that she and Pip were ‘the Dragon Sisters’ and could take care of themselves.

Both Dragons realized that they had even less of a choice when Daphne's face lit up like a Christmas tree upon hearing that!

Learning that the duo already had animal-themed nicknames for themselves made it much easier for Lion and Tiger Stripes to press-gang their new sisters into the “Non-Standard Survivors Society”, and even easier to get them painted into the old Intercity “Swallow” paint scheme.

Even for express locomotives, the speed at which the two went from Pip and Emma to Dragon Stripes was remarkable.

Even later that same year

Donald screamed all the way to the Little Western, unable to shake the image of a unified force of Red Eyed, Soul Stealing, Mind Controlling, Memory Altering, Diesel Electric Monsters!

2001

Pip and Emma taught the other diesels how to breathe fire.

Being the sort of sisters that they were, Daphne, Emma, Pip, and Delta soon began hosting competitions to see who could shoot fire the furthest. This did not help Oliver’s mental state at all.

2004

The United Kingdom allowed same-sex couples to enter into a “civil union” on the 14th of March. The engines knew it wasn’t actual marriage, but it was more than they’d been allowed before, and Daisy and Mavis, and Henry and Bear were wed by The Magistrate that night, with Delta and James acting as best man and bride/groomsmaid in all the ceremonies.

Immediately afterwards, Daphne and Wendell - who had agreed not to be wed until their friends could - tied the knot as well.

The rest of the Society (BoCo, Pip, Emma) and Siobhan and her husband Declan cheered until they were hoarse.

The next morning, Stephen and Richard Hatt, as well as most of the steam engines, could not understand how every James, Henry, and every diesel on the island were somehow exhausted and happy at the same time.

Later that same year

Flying Scotsman showed up on what would turn out to be his last railtour before his overhaul. Not realizing what he’d started way back in 1979, he jokingly asked if Henry and Bear had ever done anything in regards to their relationship.

When they and seemingly every other diesel on the Island regaled him with wedding stories he almost burst a boiler tube!

2007

Pip managed to convince the paint shop staff to paint huge fire breathing dragons on herself and Emma for Christmas.

Within two weeks all the other diesels had their own respective animals painted somewhere on their bodies.

After a while, they all started to notice that the animals seemed to be in different places on different days... Daphne's Lion and Wendell's Cobra would even swap locomotives sometimes - not that they'd ever admit it!

After an even longer while they noticed that an identical Bear and Tiger had ended up on Henry and James - despite neither of them having gone near the paint shop in months!

Richard Hatt has asked why this happened, but nobody has yet said anything close to the truth. It may be because they don’t know themselves...

2017

A certain Class 5 diesel convinced her driver to hang some mistletoe over the turntable.

Everything was going well until Donald chuffed in unexpectedly and saw Henry and Bear under it.

A lot of explaining was required.

2020

Wendell loved Christmas, and had spent every year since the early 90′s covered in lights and pulling the N.W.R.’s holiday train. In more recent years Daphne also joined him, and they usually spent a few days in the first or second week of January getting the lights removed and their paint touched up.

This year, heavy traffic in early January meant that they couldn’t make it to the works until late on the 28th, and spent all of the next day getting de-lighted and touched up. They went to sleep eager to go to work the next morning...

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

January 30, 2020

Wendell woke up with a start. What a dream that was! It felt so realistic, and...

55 010 was staring at him, eyes wide to the point of bulging out of her face.

“What?” He asked, trying to shake off the feeling of strangeness - in his dream, they were married, but engines can’t get married - can they?

“Wendell,” She said quietly, her voice shaking. “I just had the most amazing dream.”

“Really?” Maybe they could compare notes, Wendell wondered. Maybe in her dream they were all brightly coloured crime fighting action heroes.

“We were married.” She said after a moment.

Wendell felt the world go fuzzy around him. The last thirty-nine years of his life flashed before his eyes in some sort of visual stereo - one side sad and depressed, the other side...

“Daphne?!” He gasped as he returned to reality.

That was all the confirmation the big Deltic needed. “It wasn’t a dream!” She cried joyously.

“It was,” Wendell said, his brows furrowing under a sudden and massive headache. “But it wasn’t. How can it be both?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Daphne/55 010 said, her voice laced with quiet joy. “I have sisters. I have a family. I have you.”

Wendell could feel his mind short circuiting. On one wheel, he was in his shed in the works. It was his home. He’d lived here since the 80′s!

On the other... He lived at the diesel shed in Tidmouth. He’d asked The Fat Controller in 1982 if he could stay there so he could be with his friends - with Daphne. His home was the road between Daphne and Bear in Tidmouth.

Bear. His eyes widened as he thought of the Hymek.

He didn’t know the diesel that well, but - he did. Did he? Was this all a shared dream between him and 010, or was Bear really Henry’s husband? Were Delta and James married? What about Daisy and Mavis? Was 010 actually Daphne? He didn’t know what was real or not anymore.

He looked back at Daphne/010. As much as he wanted to believe it was true - that he really did have thirty years of family and love - but as he looked over at the Deltic and down at his own buffers, he didn’t see the blue-and-gold or black-and-gray of Lion and Cobra Stripes, just the basic Rail Blue of two anonymous British Diesels.

Then...

As he looked at 010/Daphne, her dark blue paint started to muddy and shift before his eyes. Starting at her buffers and moving backwards, a ripple of colour began to work its way across her body. The rail blue and yellow warning panels faded away, leaving a trail of sky blue paint and metallic gold stripes. A roaring lion, standing atop a crushed double arrow, appeared below her cab window.

He would have watched the transformation in more detail, but a sudden and intense itching caused his him to look down at his own body. Where there had previously been blue and yellow was now a dark gloss black with grey stripes. The very hint of a snake's tail could be seen stretching around the corner of his bodywork.

It was over almost as quickly as it begun, and when the two diesels looked back up at each other, they didn’t see Wendell and 55 010, they saw:

“Lion?”

“Cobra?”

---

The drivers who went to take Wendell and 010 back to the works had no idea why the diesels were crying like babies, but assumed it was due to the outrageous paint schemes the works had elected to cover them in. They were in no mood for shenanigans, and coupled up the engines and left before the works staff could notice and ask questions.

In a remarkable parallel to the 1981 of their dreams, Wendell hauled an unpowered Daphne and a rake of coaches from the works down to Tidmouth in the predawn light of winter. They passed Abbey, who shouted hello from the electric branch, and passed Edward, who stared at their paint in utter bafflement.

The train arrived in Tidmouth, but there was no Fat Controller to meet them that day, so they left the coaches at the platform for The Limited and departed for the diesel shed.

Wendell felt another headache come on as he rolled up to the concrete-and-steel structure. With only Bear and Delta permanently in Tidmouth, The Fat Controller hadn’t built the shed until Pip and Emma arrived in 2000, knocking down an old brick warehouse to do so.

But, with Daphne and Wendell, that old brick building had been spruced up and expanded in the 80′s. Looking at the building, Wendell felt woozy as his mind layered an image of the cozy warehouse overtop of the sleek shed.

“There’s supposed to be windows there.” Daphne whispered as she looked at the blank wall of the shed.

Wendell grimaced as he looked up. That blank concrete wall was in no way special, but at the same time, the light that streamed in through bank of windows set into the brick had been the source of many arguments - nobody wanted to be the one in that road because the morning sun was at just the right angle to shine into the eyes of whoever was parked under them.

But that wall was blank specifically because the architects had realized that - in 1999.

But it was an old shed - from the 1920's, right?

Wendell grimaced and hoped that his mind would pick something and stick to it.

Arriving in the shed to the sound of Genesis drifting through the doors - dream or no dream, Henry had apparently still infected them with his prog rock obsession - the men first shunted Daphne onto one road before putting Wendell next to her, powering off off his motor and scarpering to the staff canteen and its coffee maker, leaving the two diesels outside.

Their presence was noticed after Bear’s voice drifted out of the shed with a command to turn off the voice activated speaker. In the silence, the quiet pinging of Wendell’s cooling engine was heard, drawing eyes to the outside.

“What the hell are you painted like that for?” Called BoCo from inside the sheds. “And who are you?” He asked Daphne.

“Hi Jaguar, it’s so good to see you.” Daphne evidently did not care that BoCo had no idea who she was.

“Good morning!” Said Wendell, trying to figure out how on earth he was going to explain this. “We had a doozy of a dream last night!”

The other diesels poked out of the doors to gawp at the oddly-painted engines.

Delta in particular looked like she wanted to say something, looking down at her own stripes before looking at Daphne’s.

“You look like you could be my big... sister...” She didn’t make it all the way through her sentence before her jaw dropped and her eyes glazed over. Wendell imagined that this is what he looked like earlier that morning.

“You...” Delta was on the verge of tears. “You were at my wedding. You all were!”

“Your what? You know this engine?” BoCo was more confused than ever.

“Yes! And so do you! We all do!”

“Delta, I have never... met...” BoCo stared in shock after his eyes glazed over for a long moment. “Oh soot and oil... Daphne?!”

And so it went through the other engines, who all suddenly remembered.

“How?!” Bear eventually managed. “How did this - what?”

He was cut off as his paint rippled and changed, an effect that quickly rolled across the other engines. From within the shed, Emma and Pip swore loudly as their NWExpress livery roiled and shifted from blue and yellow to black, white and red. BoCo grimaced as his BR green suddenly became a lot more American. Bear grinned unconsciously, suddenly remembering how well Henry had taken his stripes last time.

Within a few minutes, the disparate group of diesels were gone, replaced with the members of the Non-Standard Survivors Society.

Daphne, who watching this happen with no small amount of glee, squealed with happiness.

In the station, Henry and Daisy were congratulating Richard Hatt on his recent promotion to assistant controller of the railway. As they spoke, both engines kept one eye on the diesel shed in the distance - two new diesels in some absolutely ludicrous paint schemes were parked in front of the diesel shed, and a commotion was quietly audible, much to their consternation.

Richard eventually took notice of the new engines as well, and took a long moment to try and figure out why the original Deltic prototype was on his railway. A gasp drew him back to the engines on the platform, both of whom now looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

Daisy, who was wide eyed and shaking on her suspension, was the first to react. “I’m married!” She shrieked before setting off for the junction almost before her signal dropped. Richard wasn’t sure, but as Daisy left, frantically blowing her horn to the diesels in the yard as she did so, she seemed to shimmer in the sun for a moment.

“What?” Richard asked. He thought he’d heard what Daisy had said, but was really hoping that he’d misheard her. He looked back at Henry, suddenly forced to remember that he had to give the engine a day off every March.

“I don’t think I could explain that to you if I had all day.” Henry said quietly.

Richard wanted to investigate the sudden faraway look in the engine’s eyes, but remembered what usually happened to him when he asked the engines personal questions.

As he left the platform, he noted with some amount of confusion the elegantly-painted bear that was on Henry’s cab side. It definitely hadn’t been there when he walked up.

He turned around to ask Henry about it, when James raced into the station, a wild look in his eyes.

“Henry!” He demanded. “What just happened to me?!” The pouncing Tiger painted on the side of his tender gave some idea as to the “what” he was talking about.

Richard turned and fled for his office. The pub didn’t open until noon, and he was not about to deal with any new earthshattering revelations sober.

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

Say You’ll Stay- Chapter 3

Fury/Band of Brother Crossover Fic

I don’t think I’m going to put warnings for each chapter. I have a broad statement of warnings on the masterlist. If there is something specific that I think might be triggering, I’ll put it on that chapter. Just know there will be swearing, mentions of injuries/blood, battle scenarios frequently.

Tag List: @happyveday @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @alwaysindecemberfeels

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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

Don stalked out of the HQ building, cigarette hanging between his lips. They had their orders. Tomorrow they would be heading to the next town to liberate and secure. Captain Evans had put him in charge of the other three tanks and their crews. Two of the other crews he recognized- Davis and Binkowski- having worked with them before. Yet memories of the last team he led and their demise...fuck, he could not think about that. He knew it was not his fault that Tiger got those lucky shots in.

His hands still shook slightly at the memory though. Hearing their screams. He wondered if he would ever be free from the sounds of dying men or if that would haunt him until his own demise.

Walking down the snow-laden, muddy streets, his attention switched from the checklist of preparations running through his mind to seeing Boyd crossing the street up ahead.

"Boyd!" He shouted, getting his gunner's attention. Boyd stopped and waited for him, thankfully. Fuck if Don was going to jog to catch up. "Where are you off to?"

Boyd motioned towards the field hospital, with the cigarette in hand. "Promised Anna I'd stop by if we was still here."

"Alright. Let's go."

If Boyd wondered why Don was following him, he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Get our orders?" The gunner asked, maneuvering around a seeping pot hole in the ground.

"Yeah, heading out tomorrow. Gonna take out a town but start in the reserves. Intel says there are civilians there and they want to minimize damage."

"We sure these civilians won't shoot us when our backs are turned?"

"One can only hope."

They entered the field hospital, both having tossed his spent cigarettes just outside the door. A few men lay on cots but overall, it was surprisingly quiet. A curvy, dark-haired nurse was passing out what looked like bowls of watery soup to the wounded men. A few of the men glanced their way but went back to whatever they had been doing before. From somewhere off to the left, it sounded like someone was constantly hacking up a lung in a different room.

Don usually did everything possible to avoid going to field hospitals or aid stations. The air always seemed tainted with blood, death and screaming. Something he had more than enough experience with on his own. There were a few times he should have sought medical care but refused, forcing Boyd to wrap up the bullet graze or the one time he got a small piece of shrapnel in his leg. That one hurt like a sonofabitch. Why he was here now with Boyd, going out of his way to enter a field hospital he had no reason to be in... he could not even justify it to himself.

A middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform walked over to them, coming from a side room. "Y'all injured?" Her shrewd, brown eyes looked over both men with terrifying precision, trying to determine who was the patient.

Boyd pulled out his bandaged hand from his jacket pocket. "Came here to see Anna...ah, Nurse Cooper. She wanted to check it yesterday."

"Mmm… ya that fella that looked out for her last night. Made sure she ate."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank ya kindly again. That girl gives too much and forgets to take care of herself. I'll get her for ya. Y’all go on now and take a seat towards the back." She gestured towards the few open beds, then turned those shrewd eyes on Don to openly scrutinize him. "Why are ya here?"

"Moral support. Boyd here is a crybaby and I said I'd hold his hand…" He chuckled as Boyd swatted his arm, muttering something under his breath.

She pursed her lips but did not comment. "A'right. Y'all best be on good behavior. Doctor Erickson is in a right mood, I tell ya. I don't want her to get in no trouble because of y’all, ya here?" Without explanation, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Don met Boyd's eyes but he only shrugged. He followed his friend to a cot set against the back wall. Don snagged a nearby stool and leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. They sat in silence, neither one feeling the need to fill the air. They had been comrades for three years now and brothers for just as long. Often with a single look they could understand one another. Don was not sure if he believed in God anymore, he had seen too much war and too much death. But if there was a man upstairs, He deserved to be profusely thanked for bringing Boyd into Don's life.

"Good morning, Boyd. Good morning, sir." Anna chirped as she came around from a side door, wiping her hands on a cloth. She briefly looked around the floor nearby, hesitated then sat down next to Boyd on the cot.

"Mornin', Anna. How are you today?" Boyd asked.

"I'm fine. How are you? How does your hand feel?" She asked as she placed his bandaged hand on her leg and began unwrapping it.

"Feels a little stiff, don't hurt too much anymore."

"Good." She poked and ran the lightest touch around the cut on his palm. "Doesn't look like it's infected and it's healing nicely already. I'm going to bandage it back up with some new dressing. Try and keep it clean and dry, change the dressing every day. Do you have your orders?"

"Yeah, heading out tomorrow."

"I'll grab some extra dressings for you then. Can one of your crew help you with it?"

Don cleared his throat. "I'll make sure."

She met his eyes for the first time with a small smile before standing back up. "I'll be right back." She disappeared around the corner.

"She reminds me a little of my sister." Boyd softly said, gaze having followed her out.

Ah, so there it was. Don eyed his gunner but chose not to comment. It made sense now why he was so protective of the young woman. Boyd had always been the most sentimental of their crew. Hopefully that sentimentality would not bite him in the ass later.

It did not take long for the red-headed nurse to return, hands holding new wrappings and dressings. Before she could sit down on the cot again, a shout made her jolt, whipping around to face towards the front.

"Nurse Cooper!"

Don watched a tall, blonde man stride into the room like he owned every inch of the ground he walked on. With his doctor's uniform on, he practically did. The tank commander was unsure what was going on but he had a bad feeling. Unconsciously, he straightened up in his chair, staring hard at the doctor.

"Come here!" The doctor bellowed, completely ignoring the scene he was causing.

Anna carefully set the bandage down next to Boyd before slowly walking towards the doctor. He stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips and a glare to rival the devil's on his stubbled face. When she stood before him, he immediately got in her face.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my patients! One came in here an hour ago and complained you ignored him! Need I remind you that we are to help everyone with an injury, it does not matter our personal preferences or if you find them attractive. You do your damn job!"

"Yes, sir. I apologize, I asked Nurse Falk to help him because…"

A loud smack filled the air.

The doctor pulled his hand back from backhanding her to only point a finger at her. "I don't care for your excuses. Do your fucking job or I'll find you some hell hole to work in. Do I make myself clear?"

Don was up and moving before he realized it. He looped an arm around Anna's waist and pulled her behind him in one fluid motion. He squared off in front of the doctor, meeting him eye to eye.

No words were spoken, yet a war waged between them. This doctor wore an air of authority like a badge to wave in other's faces. If he expected the tank commander to back down, he was sorely mistaken. Don had been fighting too long, killed too many men with his own hands to be intimidated by someone who thought when he opened his mouth, everyone around should obey. Don narrowed his eyes, silently begging the man to try something. Give him an excuse to knock the arrogant asshole down a couple notches.

Finally, the doctor looked over Don's shoulder, glaring at Anna one more time. "Do your job." He spat out before retreating out of the room and up a set of stairs.

Don watched his retreating form for a minute, making sure the man was not going to turn around and continue to publicly berate and abuse Anna. When he could no longer hear the doctor's step, he looked down at the small woman still huddled against him.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

Tilting her head up to meet his eyes, she nodded and licked her lips before answering, voice just above a whisper. "Thank you."

He could not help it. Oh so carefully, he put his other hand on her chin and turned her head to see the reddened cheek.

"I'm fine. It's not that bad." She stepped out of his grasp and looked back towards the front.

The middle-aged woman with the shrewd eyes and graying hair watched them, both hands gripping a towel until her knuckles were white. Quietly, she approached and took a look at Anna's cheek. "Finish up with ya patient then get to the kitchen. Make yaself a cup of tea."

"Yes, ma'am." Anna started back down the rows of cots to Boyd's side, head down, ignoring the looks sent her way by those in the room.

Don met the aging nurse's eyes and a silent understanding passed between them. She gave him a brief nod then left. A sigh left his lips before he rejoined Boyd and Anna, returning to his spot on the stool.

She worked silently, putting some kind of ointment on Boyd's cut and dressing it.

"Anna." Boyd tried to get her attention but she ignored it, working methodically. "Anna, look at me. Come on."

Finally, she looked up with watery eyes. "He came in this morning."

"Who did?"

"That Private from last night…"

"Shit," Boyd swore, rubbing his other hand over his moustache, "that's who the doctor is yelling at you about?"

She looked away, gathering up the soiled dressing, then stood. "I need to clean these. I… I wish you both well tomorrow...good luck."

Boyd stood, putting a hand on her shoulder. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times as if to say something encouraging but finally settled with, "I'll be praying for you."

"Thanks. If anything, I'm glad I met you." She looked down at Don, still sitting with his forearms on his knees. "Both of y’all. Thank y’all for everything." With a final small smile, she walked out of view and towards the back room.

"Don…"

The tank commander finally stood, quickly lighting a new cigarette. "I know, Boyd, I know. Come on. Us lingering isn't gonna do her any good."

They walked out together side by side, clean dressings and bandages in both their pockets. Neither said anything as they walked back to Fury, their separate thoughts on the auburn-haired nurse.

When they caught sight of Fury with the others lounging around, Don knew what he had to do.

"Fuck it." He muttered then stopped walking. "Bible, start getting Fury ready to leave for tomorrow. Spread the word."

"Where you going, Don?"

"There's something I gotta do."

Before further questions could be asked, he started back the way they had just come. He brusquely pushed past someone standing idly in the doorway of the field hospital. His eyes scanned the large front room and landed on the matronly nurse from before, who was examining a man's shoulder as he gritted his teeth.

"Nurse." Don spoke up, stepping closer. When she looked up at him, he continued, "where is she?"

She seemed to weigh out her answer before jerking her head towards the back. "In the kitchen still. Be quick."

He brushed past all the cots and the few men filling them, wandering into the back room where a few extra cots were and medical supplies in cabinets. To his right was another door. Without hesitation, he pushed it open and was relieved it was the kitchen.

It was a small room and probably had been cozy at one time before the war came and ravaged it. A fire was lit in the hearth, a black kettle hanging just over it. The sound of the water just beginning to boil made the scene feel domestic. A small wooden table was pushed against the wall, three chairs crowding it in. Anna sat on one of the chairs, hair freed from its typical bun and hanging loose down her back. Having heard the door open, she turned and he witnessed her eyes widened as she recognized him.

"Sergeant? Is everything alright?"

Putting his boot on the chair across the small table from her, he unstrapped the combat knife and sheath strapped to his lower leg, hidden under his trousers. It thudded when he set it on the table, the sound feeling like a gong going off even though it was not nearly that loud.

"It's a Mark 3 combat knife. I've had it since North Africa. Hide it somewhere on you that you can reach easily. Don't worry about using it right, just use it however you can to defend yourself. Slash. Stab. Doesn't fucking matter. You wait though until they can't get away. Don't pull it out too soon and someone with skills will knock it out of your hands or just take it from you. Got it?"

Her sapphire eyes were wide as saucers as she looked at him then the knife, gingerly reaching her hand out to touch it. "Why are you giving me this?"

"Look, find someone to show you how to use it if you…"

She reached over and placed a hand on his forearm, effectively silencing him. "I know how to use a knife. My father taught me. I had a knife but Doctor Erickson took it. Said it was not appropriate. This time he won't find it." She looked up, meeting his hardened gaze. "Why did you come back?"

Don sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

They stared at each other, both seeking answers in the other person's eyes. It was in this moment he truly began to notice things about her; like how there was a ring of gold around the iris in her eyes, how there was a slight dimple in her chin, how her features were soft but underneath it all, was a core as strong as steel. This was how she had survived as long as she did on the front lines of war. His respect for her increased. She looked a dainty, petite little rose but that was only her outward appearance.

The door opened behind them and the dark-haired, curvy nurse stuck her head in. "Anna, I'm going to need your assistance."

"Yes. Yes, I'll be right there."

The other nurse closed the door, only sparing Don a quick look. With that, whatever intimate moment they conjured shattered into a thousand glass pieces.

Don rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what just happened. It did not matter though. In all likelihood he was never going to see her again. "Good luck, Nurse Cooper."

He turned to head out but she gripped his arm, holding him frozen. In a flash, she stepped closer and rose up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his jawline. Not that she could reach much higher.

"Stay safe, Sergeant. " She whispered, before snatching the combat knife off the table and slipping out the door like a dream.

His hand drifted on its own accord to rub the spot where her lips touched his skin.

He groaned as he realized what he was doing. Silently reprimanding himself, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed out, past the cots and fellow soldiers, keeping his eyes forward. He had a job to do. They were in the middle of a war for Christ's sake. He should not be acting like some schoolboy.

If the skin that had been graced by her lips felt like a seal on his jawline, no one else needed to know that.

*****

Anna helped Nurse Harris patch up a soldier who had gotten his foot crushed as best as they could. She worried they would have to amputate it but for the moment, it was bandaged as well as possible and he was finally sleeping, the morphine having fully kicked in.

She tended to the few other men laying on cots, making sure they all had water, no one was in major pain and they were as comfortable as possible. The last rays of sun peered through the windows, a display of reds, oranges and yellows coating the inside of the field hospital.

As she moved about, the strange yet comforting feel of the combat knife strapped to her calf was her companion. And with the feeling of it, her thoughts continuously drifted to the Staff Sergeant who gave it to her.

What had she been thinking to kiss him? Even if it was meant innocently and as a thank you. Stupid, so stupid. It was too late now to change it. For all she knew, she would never see him again. He could die in the fight tomorrow and she would never know.

The thought of his death sent a sharp stab to her heart.

Only in her own mind would she easily admit how attractive she found the man to be. When he held her behind him, an arm around her to protect and shield her from Doctor Erickson; his touch had knocked the air out of her lungs more than the slap from the doctor ever could.

"Nurse Cooper."

Anna looked up as Nurse Falk walked towards her. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Come with me."

Nerves came alight with those three words. Whatever this was, it could not be good. Anna set down the clean bandages she had been rolling to store away and followed the matronly nurse towards the back.

In the kitchen, Nurse Falk quickly moved to shut the doors, even going so far to draw the curtains over the solitary window. The only light came from the small fire in the fireplace.

This could not be good. Was Doctor Erickson sending her away? Oh God, what was she going to do?

Nurse Falk had never been one for physical touch. So when she came and grabbed Anna's hands, holding them between their bodies, Anna could feel tears gathering in her eyes.

This was bad.

"Ya know 'bout that mission tomorrow?"

Anna could only nod. Her throat felt swollen, questions threatening to choke her.

"Captain Evans asked for some additional medical support. He's plannin' on settin' up a small aid station there. Says there's civilians and he's worried 'bout extra casualties."

No.

"Besides their usual medics, they asked for any spare medics we have…"

No, please, no.

"...but Doctor Erickson gave 'im ya name. Since ya speak both German and French, it would help with them civilians, and ya would be seen as less intimidatin' than a soldier if they be needin' a translator. I'm sorry."

So, this was Doctor Erickson's final revenge. To this day she still questioned what she had done to cause him to hate her so much. Since the beginning, he treated her like shit on his boot. Now he was offering her up as a sacrificial lamb.

"When...when do we leave?"

"Oh seven hundred. Ya be ridin' in a truck with Medic Hunter...do ya need help packin'?"

She shook her head, cursing the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

"A'right. Go pack and rest while ya can. We'll find ya some new clothes too. I'll come get ya in the mornin'." She squeezed Anna's hands once more before stepping away.

In a daze, Anna felt her feet moving but did not remember telling them to. Up the stairs she went to the small bedroom she shared with two other nurses. She sat on her cot, mind numb and lacking the energy to do anything.

She was being sent away. To the real front lines. Alone. A single woman alone in a company of soldiers. She knew Medic Hunter; he seemed a good man. She had gotten used to the chaotic, draining life of working in a field hospital. She had been doing it for a year now. At least she was around other women, a few she would even call friends.

Tomorrow all that would be gone.

Slowly, she curled up on her bed and silently let the tears fall unaided. She was tired. So bone-deep tired of this war. Of seeing young men dead or maimed. Of constantly being dirty with grime and blood. Of remembering what spilled intestines looked like more than her childhood home.

She always tried to convince herself that it would get better, tomorrow would be better. It was a habit she had picked up from her mother, trying to always be positive, to see the best in everyone.

For the first time, she did not even try to pretend that tomorrow would be better.

#Fury movie #fury 2014 #fury fanfic #band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #Don Collier #Don Wardaddy Collier #don collier x OFC #boyd swan #boyd bible swan #mzwrites

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