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birdy-bat-writes · 2 years ago

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Coffee for Mrs. Seresin?

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: Pining, fluff, and uh.... caffeine? Mild swears, Maybe some banter. I have no clue what qualifies as a warning anymore, I'm so sorry, y'all:') Also, sorry for the spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors.

A/n: Should I be doing math right now? Should I actually be sleeping right now? Yes and yes, BUT no one can blame me. I was reading an adorable Jake Seresin Fanfic by @roosterbruiser (everyone go read Millie's work, it's gold) and I got an idea and I had to write it somewhere so here:D

You were pretty used to people assuming you and Jake were an item. When an attractive guy and an attractive girl have been friends since college and spend as much time together as you both do, you suppose it's a fair conclusion for people to draw, but an incorrect one, nonetheless. And you really wish people would stop asking because every time you had to explain to someone how you were "just friends," it ate you a little more inside.

The fact of the matter was this: you were in love with your best friend. And it sucked.

You stepped out of your car and strode along the stone walkway amidst the grass up to Rooster's door and rang the bell. It was a cute little townhouse with a blue exterior and you often poked fun at him for how much it resembled a little wooden birdhouse with its colorful walls and white wood-rimmed windows. You suppose it's fitting since Rooster lives there and yes, he hates that gag. It also serves as your group's prime hang-out spot, which is why you're here now.

The door opened to reveal Natasha, wrapped up in an oversized sweatshirt with her hair thrown up in a claw clip. "Yes, you brought chips!"

"Yeah, you didn't really specify which flavor so I just got them all." You said, walking in. "Guests should start coming in an hour, right?"

"Mmm-hmm." The 7 of you were throwing a casual party to celebrate Jake's promotion to Lieutenant-Commander. You saw Nat lift her eyes and smirk. "And there he is, the man of the hour." You turned around to see Jake at the end of the staircase.

"Well, hello, Mr. Man-of-the-hour," you teased, setting down the numerous bags of chips you were holding.

"Glad you're finally here, N/N. I was starting to think you were going to leave me here to fend for myself against Rooster's ABBA medley." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. It was always like this. Him giving you butterflies you had to ignore because there was inevitably some other girl.

"Oh please, I would never leave you to fend for yourself against Rooster. I would join him and together, we'd overpower you and make you listen to ABBA forever." You grinned up at him and he narrowed his eyes, lips quirking up at the corners.

"Betrayal never comes from an enemy, I see," he shook his head at you. "I will leave you, lovely ladies, to yourselves. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen." You watched Jake walk away and disappear around the corner. When you turned back, Natasha was still wearing that smug smile she always did when she saw you two. You knew it was coming.

"Nix, I'm telling you, if you say it, I'm salting your coffee." She knew you were messing with her but one of these days, you might just do it.

"All I'm saying is, shoot your shot! Come on, just once before you go settle for this rando."

"Mark is not a rando. We know him from accounting!"

"Exactly, Y/N, we know him from accounting. You don't even like the guy, heck you hardly know him."

"Exactly. That's why we're going to get to know each other at this party. I need to get over this crush, now. I can't keep pining for a guy who has no interest in me," you saw Natasha's mouth open as if to say something and you quickly jumped in, "And don't say he's interested. He's been with other girls multiple times and never once looked at me like that."

"True, I won't argue there. He's never looked at any of those girls the way he was just looking at you either." She took her hair out of her claw clip and it fell onto her shoulders in soft waves. "And ever since we all got back from that mission 3 months ago, he hasn't been with anyone. I really think he's got a thing for you but you're right. You should give this Mark guy a shot if you think he'd be good for you."

You smiled softly. You met Jake's friends when you were in San Diego a few years back. About a year ago, you were permanently stationed here and luckily for you, Jake was too. He settled here about 4 months before you. All his friends became your friends, and you've truly never known a better group of people. And they'd never known someone who could wrangle Hangman, so you were quite quickly welcomed to the group.

You and Pheonix tossed your sweatshirts upstairs and fixed up the last bits of your outfits just in time for guests to start arriving. You even managed to slip in a game of cards with Fanboy, Bob, and Payback before you joined a crowd in the living room. You barely felt the tap on your shoulder. If it wasn't followed by your name, you surely would have missed it. You turned on your heel to see Mark from accounting, facing you with a hand in his pocket.

"Mark, hi!"

"Hey. How are you?" His voice was almost monotone. His eyes roamed the room rather than meeting yours. He had just gotten here and he already sounded like he wanted to be somewhere else. You could have sworn he sounded more lively when you met.

"I'm good. I thought you weren't coming till later."

"I got off work early."

"Ah, well that's great." This guy really wasn't giving you much to work with. "Can I get you something to drink? There are drinks and food in the kitchen." That actually went somewhere. You headed to the kitchen where the conversation just barely picked up.

In the distance, Jake noticed your prolonged absence. As silly as it was, Jake liked knowing you were near him. You didn't have to be attached at the hip but he liked knowing he could saunter over to you and escape into your laugh when you came up in his mind. Which was a lot.

He scanned the room for you and stopped when he caught your frame in the kitchen...with some guy? Who the hell was that?

"Damn, if looks could kill...," Rooster muttered. "Do you not like that dude or something?"

"I don't even know who he is," Jake said through gritted teeth. "What's his name?"

"No clue. Pheonix?"

As if on cue, Natasha spoke up. "That, my friends, is Mark from accounting." Both the boys looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Okay, but who is he?" Something in Jake's voice was different now. Both of them looked at him.

"Careful there, Bagman, you almost sound jealous. He's some guy Y/N knows and I think she likes him." Phoenix was searching Jake's face for any sign that she was right about his feelings for you, and he never noticed because his eyes were trained on you like a hawk.

"I'm not jealous, Pheonix."

"You kinda sound jealous, Hangman," Rooster added, earning a glare from Jake.

"Okay, when we first met and you told me about her, you sounded so lovesick, I thought she was your wife. Cut to, you introduce us all and it turns out you're not married, or dating, but friends? I'm sorry, I do not believe that you two don't have feelings for each other." Natasha's remark sparked something in Jake. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk so small, she almost missed it.

"I'll be right back." Jake stated, already pacing away. Rooster and Pheonix watched Jake make his way into the kitchen.

"She likes him too right?" Rooster asked.

"Oh, absolutely," Pheonix responded.

"You know, Fanboy has a betting pool on them."

"What? Get me on this, I have a feeling we'll make some money tonight."

Jake entered the kitchen to see you sitting alone at the table. "Got room for one more?"

"I don't see why not. Shouldn't you be mingling with everyone out there?"

"Well, the person I want to mingle with is in here." You smiled at him. There it was again, that smile that always left him utterly defenseless. "Who's the guy?"

You don't know why you felt your cheeks heat up when Jake asked about him. "His name's Mark. I met him when I was sorting reports last week."

"Okay. So, why do you sound so upset?"

"Because he said he was going to get us drinks 5 minutes ago and I just saw him leave with Commander Reeves' daughter." Honestly, you weren't upset because he left. You were upset because you were glad he did. He was boring you out of your mind and you two absolutely did not click, but it was still disheartening to know that this is what it was going to be like. No guy was going to measure up to the one you wished you were with. The one who was at this table with you now.

Jake was seething. What kind of idiot comes to a party and leaves you for some other girl? "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"Let's leave. I'm bored."

"It's your party, you dork, you can't just leave!" You were giggling at a feeling somewhere in between confusion and disbelief.

"Yeah, it is my party so I say, you and I get out of here." He took you by the hand and walked you out through the back door to his car. And you let him. The chilly air swept you both up.

The drive was pretty calm. You didn't know where Jake was going but you didn't care either. This reminded you of when you two were younger. The long quiet rides in the car with no one but each other for company. He'd put on some cheesy 80's power ballad and you'd both laugh at it until you'd give in and belt it out at the top of your lungs.

"If you don't mind my asking, what did you see in him?"

"I don't really even remember. I think I just wanted to try and get myself out there. I haven't been on a date in literally years."

Jake hesitated before he asked. "So... what made you want to start now?" You felt the words catch in your throat.

"I'm not sure." you lied. You. I'm in love with you and I can't take it.

You felt the car slow down. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even see where Jake parked. A cute little coffee shop and patisserie. Jake got out of his car and rounded the front to open the door for you. He already had you head over heels for him and he didn't even know it. Did he have to be such a gentleman? You weren't sure that you could fall even harder for this man but you really didn't want to find out.

"Why don't you get us a table and I'll get us something to drink. Don't worry, I remember what you like." You nodded and found a two-seat table by the french windows overlooking the city. On the left, in the distance, the last light of sunset was hitting the water and the top of the sky had started to go dark. Little stars twinkled above you. You wondered what it would be like to always be like this? Evenings with you and Jake, running off alone together from places and people you didn't really want to see. Taking comfort in each other's presence because it felt like home. Just then, Jake sat down in front of you. It almost hurt knowing he was right in front of you and you couldn't have him.

"Screw stupid Mark from accounting. He was not worth your time."

"Thanks. It's fine really, I'll find someone else. Someone less boring." When you met Jake's eyes, he looked as if he had something to say. Something he was holding back. "What is it?"

"Don't find someone else."

Did he just- Did you hear him right?

"What? Why?"

"Because-"

"I have a coffee and a latte for Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" The barista called. You actually felt your heart skip a beat. Your eyebrows scrunched together and you looked to Jake for answers.

"Well, I think that's us." He blurted like it answered all your questions, a smile heard in his voice.

"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" You queried, rising out of your seat in tandem with him. "Why'd you tell her we were 'Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?!'"

"Because you looked so down and I thought I'd get a reaction from you! And it's not all my fault, Pheonix gave me the idea." Jake stated, matter-of-factly. How could he say that so casually?! "And you're still looking red so I guess it worked."

You both grabbed your coffees and sat down once again. It was dark out now. Once your laughs and giggles over your reaction were out, you remembered where your last conversation left off.

"Jake, why'd you tell me not to find someone?" You didn't force the question too hard into the conversation. You asked softly, not knowing how or if he would answer. He sighed before he spoke like he was preparing himself.

"Because...because I can't ask you out if you're dating someone else." The emotions hit you like a bombshell.

"You want to ask me out?" You weren't sure this was real. You were really about to pinch yourself before he stopped you in your tracks.

"I've been meaning to for months. Y/N, we've been friends forever, and I didn't want to ruin what we have. I know I should have told you before because I've liked you for as long as- Why are you smiling?"

"Because, you big dummy, I like you too." You couldn't hold it back. You were beaming. You felt butterflies and fireworks all at once just because the man of your dreams just made it all a reality. Jake held your eyes in his and smiled ear-to-ear. You swore you saw his ears go red but if you asked him, you doubt he’d admit it. "I'm really happy right now but I have no clue what to do next."

"I've got it from here," Jake reaches out and takes your hand in both of his. It feels like electricity is coursing through your veins. "Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

It took everything in you not to squeal in this coffee shop. "Yes, I will do you that honor, Bagman." You responded. He chuckled at you.

"Every now and again, I feel like introducing you to Pheonix was a mistake."

"Speaking of which, I really want to tell her about this but she'll get all smug because she was right."

"You're right. As far as people we don't have to tell yet go, Fanboy and Rooster have been betting on us. We can just keep it from them for now too."

"Deal." A laugh bubbled out of you as you thought about how the squad would react. And then a knock sounded directly next to you on the french window.

"Aww, cute," Rooster noted, his voice muffled by the glass, but still clear enough for you to hear his teasing tone.

"Left your own party so soon?" There stood Pheonix. Along with the rest of the squad leaning against Bradley's bronco.

"Shit." you commented.

"So much for keeping it secret."

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Tag list:

@glorified-red

#rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #hangman drabble #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fluff #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fluff #jake hangman x reader

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animentality · 7 months ago

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not to be a boomer, but I do worry about the current generation of kids being raised with iPads.

first off. some of them literally can't hold a pencil because their parents never gave them physical toys to grip and play with, developing their fine motor skills.

you might ask why do we even need to learn how to write physically anymore- well, frankly, because if you're stranded on an island somewhere and you need to write HELP, you might not have the strength to hold a pencil, but you can at least hold a stick.

but on a more general note.

writing by hand helps you remember things better. it forces you to focus in a way that typing something word for word does not. a person can transcribe what a professor says without even thinking about it.

someone writing notes has to consider what to write and what to omit. it also activates more parts of your brain, forcing you to flex the parts of your brain related to learning and communicating, while also engaging the part of your brain dedicated to muscle control and precision.

but in general, I think the issue isn't even oh technology is bad and kids are getting dumber.

you can have PowerPoints AND take physical notes. that could help you learn even better than the olden days where you just had to remember everything that was thrown at you. or read very limited, out of date books.

the problem is that the generation that raised/is raising this generation of children just doesn't understand the true impact that all this technology will have on their kids. or they just don't care.

because our generation had the internet yes, but it wasn't widely accessible for most of us, sharing our computers with the entire family in the kitchen. it was also the internet in its infancy, where it wasn't quite so predatory, when it was lawless and disturbing, yes, but it wasn't weaponized by corporations trying to sell you things and steal your data, it wasn't flooded with bots and ai and all sorts of things that the human brain can't even distinguish as real or fake, especially when you're just a little kid.

that generation still played with physical toys. we celebrated when it snowed and we could stay home.

we also came from a gen that still, vaguely, cared about some form of community and had third spaces for kids to hang out.

90s children, who still had some memories of both playing outside on a playground and playing Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64 with their friends, who both went out to the mall and had a club penguin account.

we grew up with laptops and smart boards. maybe some of us had them in high school or college, but we still physically went to class and developed relationships. learned uncomfortable things about ourselves and others, the way humans do.

met new people and were exposed to new ideas, away from our parents. but not from some fucking influencer trying to sell us Sephora products.

we had to study for things, instead of just being able to Google shit for some bullshit online test.

which is also something that really concerns me. so many kids today can so easily Google answers for every test, and while tests don't ultimately matter in the real world, they still provide some basis for things that do matter.

like I'm just imagining medical students googling how to perform an appendectomy on the day of, and just using a YouTube tutorial to guide them through, and shuddering.

there are some things that the Internet can't teach you.

there always will be.

but I don't think my generation is really helping their kids find the balance that we were given naturally growing up.

the boomers and gen xers had fist fights and we had bullying someone online until they committed suicide.

and now kids use AI to spread fake nudes of girls.

but the laws haven't caught up with a lot of this stuff yet, and certainly won't while we have dinosaurs running our government. and culture takes even longer to change than laws.

I also worry because I know how badly covid affected kids worldwide. how they struggle to read and do math, because remote learning just isn't good for kids.

and I can't even blame them!! I literally teleworked for 4 years and even I can admit that I'm not nearly as good at focusing at home as I am in the office.

it's hard for kids with social anxiety and disabilities, yes I know, I know, trust me, I have social anxiety, and as a hybrid worker ATM, I highly doubt I'd be able to handle 5 days a week in the office.

but it's also not particularly good for kids to stay home ALL the time, entertaining themselves in their room and never being challenged, and never meeting people other than their parents.

the iPad is more of a symbol of that problem than the direct problem.

if your entire... world view is limited to what you can see on your iPad... I mean what a terrible world view you'll have.

you're a 10 year old using TikTok and all you ever see is the same opinion over and over until you can scarcely comprehend people who have an opposing opinion.

you see fake videos that seem so real. that must be real, and so comforting, aren't they, those videos that seem so real?

you let 30 year old influencers who are trying to grift people shape your world view.

and it's not even your fault.

your parents aren't doing anything to help you.

you're young and you're being barraged with entertainment and fake educational videos and how to guides that accidentally create mustard gas in your toilet.

your parents should be teaching you to find a balance between these things. they should be telling you what's real and caution you about the things you see.

they should limit your fucking time on the iPad actually. take you to a fucking park and let you roll in the mud or some shit.

and then when you're a teenager and a young adult, then you can start deciding for yourself what you believe.

but a lot of these weird millennial/gen z parents, man. just let your 1 year old scroll through vids on TikTok while you don't even talk to them or look at them once.

maybe it's because they don't see the harm in it, but I don't get it.

adults can watch TikTok all day and know, ahhh this is bad for me. I'm not doing anything I actually want to be doing.

adults can see other adults doing dumb shit and say ah you're sponsored. someone paid you money to say and do that. silly.

but kids are just kids.

they don't have discipline and frankly, that's not their responsibility. that is yours.

you should be teaching them that they can't have everything in life at their finger tips at all times, actually.

the iPad doesn't solve all of your problems, nor will it think critically for you.

so I worry about if humanity can really keep up with its own technology.

our species is still in its infancy, believe it or not.

so maybe these are just growing pains, and future generations will be able to look back on this era and know the proper balance.

but as someone living in 2024.

I wonder just how much pain is left before we really mature and either make it or break it.

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ultra-raging-ghost · 11 months ago

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I reached post limit so im gonna write this and save it for midnight to post later 🥰

-10:30 EST

Richas made a reference/mentioned outliving forever and bad started screaming and sobbing for a solid 2 minutes and then started talking about how no no forevers probably fine cucuruchos probably taking care of him, richas asked if thats what bad tells himself to sleep at night, if he just lies to himself and bad said yes! if all else fails, simply lie to yourself and push your true feelings down to make it through this meaningless existence :D and richas said "so if we said the sky is pink at all times a day and just lie to ourselves its ok?" and bad said yes, we already lie to ourselves all the time we just need to think about how much lying we accept :3

richas thinks dappers colorblind

bad said his chats british 😭

time to read books!

-10:40 EST

bad is making fun of us for being sad because of angst(/lh/j) and sang a brief song about us being sad and mentioned "the sun is gone" just to torment us over forever being gone. He also went f5 said something like “if you think it’s sad now… anyway..... spoilers!!" implying it will get even sadder!! (terrified)

oh theres a letter for bbh and forever :((( this might be sad now that forevers. in his place. chats crying

-10:50 EST

Bad is screaming and crying because forever will never be able to read his letter, hes literally head in hands screaming and crying and hes letting the TTS read it out

one of the qsmp purgatory programmers wrote bad a letter saying he was supposed to die more and bad said hes a bug tester at heart and richas is bullying bad because of how many bugs he found and exploited LMAO bad said he'll fudging do it again

-11:00 EST

bad found ANOTHER wall bug to glitch thru, hes insane

-11:10 EST

someone said the word forever and bad is reduced to shambles on the floor, hes crying and whining forevers name in tears and agony and he made the dying "bleh" sound like 4 times

also bad mentioned that as soon as its confirmed to the characters like in-character that max is dead theyre having a funeral for him, like bad as the grim reaper knows but he hasnt told anyone, nobodys aware of him being gone, >>>>also he was ominous and said he needed to shoot max a message oorp and refused to elaborate. what the fuck was that about badboyhalo? <<<<<

-11:30 EST

Bad and richas and pomme wanna make an elevator death trap and then call foolish over to trap/murder him <3 chat is advocating for this idea. chat also wants to see the museum, bad said yes!!! Museum time!

before that, bad is being ominously silent again and is texting off screen. that max comment earlier + this makes me worried. MOVING ON THO BC HES SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO RICHAS AND POMME GOT HIM A PRESENT FOR HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHAS!!!!! (in brazil time) The present is Honey cookies! because richas got covered in honey and used as bait while they were away LMAO

Bad was talking about the 1k snow golems prank and was wondering if the cleanup team would be upset or love that, and richas said "lets say im part of that tio" and bad is now saying richas will take 100% accountability for that and will clean all of it up by himself LMAOOOO richas placed down signs saying "NO TIO I NEVER SAID THAT!! I DIDNT" and bad read them out loud as "Yes tio i agree i did say that ill do it!"

oh god bads spamming richas signs everywhere this is gonna fucking lag everything LMAOOOO richas crashed and bad kept placing until he got bored and said "yessssss richas will get in so much trouble hahaha! messing with the server!!!! bad then said "Richas always comes back" in the FNAF voice, didnt need to know you were an even bigger nerd BBH but okay /aff

-11:40 EST

Pomme is dragging bbh around on a lasso and is trapping him somewhere <3333 theyre climbing up the big ben and bad is taking SO MUCH DAMAGE he has his auto eat on

he accidentally said the word "forever" again and started crying again, his chat is in shambles.

MUSEUM TIME!!!!!!

HELP THE FUCKING ADMINS INCLUDED A DRAWING OF BAD LITERALLY STUCK IN A PADDED ROOM BASED ON HIS TIME IN JAIL, RICHAS SAID "natural habitat"

>>>>>>bad's crying again, and being horny because of how "cute" forever looks in the fanart, but mostly crying<<<<<

pomme started bullying bad because he called forever cute LMAO

tinas on!!!!!

-11:50 EST

Bad's crying again over art of him and forever in the pool he made in forevers base, the admins want to hurt him specifically/j

"treasure the wholesome moments chat, for they are just dust in the wind" -BBH 2023

bad took his totems out of his offhand again :)

Bad's crying again over another image of him and forever!!

#liveblogging #qsmp

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writingintheshadowsforever · 3 months ago

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Hi Let Me Explain

Quick Note: This might be a long post so I don't blame anyone who doesn't read the whole thing. This is an explanation, an apology, and an update all in one.

Hi everyone I'm back this time for real. I won't make any promises to posting three to four times a week. I won't make any promises on what series or request will be updated first. I will reassure all of you than none of my series or requests are forgotten about. I have them saved somewhere and plan on finishing them. The plan here is to take it one day at a time. One fic at a time. As I start my journey to finding the joy in writing again.

You see I've been doing a lot of self reflection these past couple of weeks. I've been at war with myself on rather or not to let a dream go. That dream to become this big time bestselling author one day. I didn't want to admit that dream which has always been my biggest dream since like high school was doing more harm than good. The dream of being a published writer is destroying my love for writing. So I need to let it go before I find myself hating writing altogether.

Its never easy to walk away or let go of your dreams especially for creatives. I sort of feel like its harder for any type of artist in whatever field to admit that they want to move onto something else. Because we grow up having to listen to parents and teachers telling us. Its not a plausible goal and to pick a safer path or at least have a backup goal. And most of us decide right then and there no matter what we're going to prove all those people wrong. No matter what obstacles we have to face, how many times we fail, or how long it takes. We are determined to find success with our craft and make them eat those words.

Some of us refuse to even consider another interest or path. Some of us put all our eggs in one basket. Some of us let our craft become our entire identity meaning. Later on if we want to walk away or maybe just put on the back burner for a while. Its like losing who you are as a person. You feel like you've failed yourself and at life for letting go. I say letting go and not giving up because I will never give up on writing or more specifically storytelling.

Storytelling made me the person I am today. I wouldn't be here today without my love for storytelling. It got me out of some dark places as a kid and still does today. Storytelling is the only real magic in this world.

As a writer who feel like the heart of storytelling is dying because of capitalism. I can't let it go. I can't let my love for it die which is why for now I have to let the dream go. It doesn't mean my dream still won't come true one day. And its not like becoming a bestselling author is my only dream. I have other dreams that have take the backseat, and I think its time to move them to the front seat.

For now on I write for the joy of it. I write to get those stories out of me. When it comes to my writing I don't ever want it to be about money or fame. Starting now I'm going to stop stressing over traditional publishing and rather or not I'll ever be good enough.

I'm sorry everyone for being gone so long. For a while a part of me started to contemplate giving up on writing altogether and even deleting this account. I was starting to hate writing because I was so stressed trying to figure out how to achieve success as a professional writer.

I once had a stranger who I didn't know at all tell me that one day I was going to be a great writer. Never met or talked to this guy a day in my life. I felt like it was a sign from God, the universe or whatever you believe in. Either way it was some divine intervention moment letting me know I was one day destined for a long and great career as a professional writer. But do you have to be a professional writer to be a great writer? Is it the same thing? Can someone be great at something but never find traditional success? Those are the questions that have been running my head every time I thought about letting go. I still going to struggle with those questions, but I hope one day I find the answer. What makes a great writer?

After going through my old fics the ones I'm going to get started on are:

Queen Ramonda x Reader Enemies to Lover

Part 2 to being Namor's daughter and choosing Wakanda over Talokan

Steal Your Heart

Not Who You Think I Am

New Marvel Stuff

New Addition

My Hero Academia imagines because its my new anime obsession

#life update #daily update #fic update #explanation #writing #fic writing

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the-broken-truth · 1 year ago

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Best Friend - Yandere Cassandra Savage [2]

Parts: [1] - [2] (You Have Arrived) - [3]

Recap: The secret of Cassandra has been revealed, and her plan to easily claim the one she loves has fallen apart. However, she is a Savage who will stop at nothing to get what she wants. You can try to run and hide, but Cassandra is determined to take what she desires.

It has been three weeks since Cassandra was revealed to the one she desires by Artemis. If her life as a Savage wasn't already difficult enough, it was about to get even harder because she was being guarded by Artemis and the Members of Young Justice 24/7. Despite having purchased a small apartment with funds that her father knew nothing about, or at the very least, she hoped he didn't know about her secret account, Cassandra was being monitored by security cameras hooked up to monitors in her living room. Although she showed up at work every single day since running away, she never stayed in her apartment alone. Artemis made sure that someone was always with her when she went to collect her clothes and mail, before returning to an unknown location that Cassandra couldn't pinpoint. This situation made her Savage Blood boil more each day.

Where were they taking you?

Why couldn't she find you?

Why weren't you answering her calls?

Why couldn't you give her the chance to explain?

Cassandra knew the answer to the last 2 questions but she still wanted to hear the answers from your lips; the lips she desired to kiss with her sweetest dreams every night. She knew that you didn't really hate her - she'd known you too long to be unable to read your true emotions. She knew you were hurt by the memory of your slaughtered parents and the fact she had blood ties with the man who took them away from you. You were confused and blinded by grief but she would make you understand that everything happened for a reason. If her father never released their souls from their bodies, you would have never met her; fate and tragedy brought you both together, it was your destiny to be together and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Cassandra thought about abducting you from your very job but she was instructed by the shadows and they didn't operate during the day; she needed to be careful about this or else her father would catch wind of this and who knew what he would do to you if he thought you were distracting his future heir. She knew and she didn't want it to happen. She had to do something and fast - she needed to find you and take you away to somewhere only she knew; she would keep you safe from everything...all you had to do in return was love her unconditionally.

On your end, you just finished a shift and you were exhausted - all you wanted to do was go home and relax but you knew the members of Young Justice wanted to keep you safe. You waited in front of the place when Connor Kent - The Superboy - walked up with Wolf by his side. The 3 of you walked down the street to reach your apartment to get the mail and some clothes, you managed to get to the front of the building when Connor's keen hearing picked up on someone screaming for help. He told you to hide in your apartment and keep the doors locked until he investigated; with that, he and Wolf bolted in the direction of the screaming while you rushed to your apartment and quickly got inside before you locked the door and exhaled.

You looked around and instantly felt like something wasn't right but everything looked the same as you left it the last time you were there but you couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. You walked around the apartment and everything was kept the same; you exhaled, chalking it up to being paranoid. You started collecting clothes for the week when you heard something falling in your room, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you carefully walked into the room to see the picture you kept of your family had fallen from its place on the nightstand. You exhaled once again and walked over to the downed picture, you picked it up and looked at it before placing it back where it belonged. You turned and froze as your [Eye Color] eyes hit familiar brown eyes.

Your blood froze in your body.

"Fate... cannot be evaded or eluded. Those who attempt this...are doomed to fail." That voice.

This couldn't be happening!

Before you could make a move, a hand wrapped around your mouth and nose with a soaked cloth between the two.

'Chloroform!' You held your breath as long as you could as you struggled against the grip that held you still.

"Do not fight. Everything shall make sense once all the pieces are together once again. Cease your fight... All shall be as it's meant to be." the voice spoke softly. You tried to fight but your lungs screamed for air and you eventually attempted to breathe, but the smell overridden your senses and soon, you fell into a void of darkness.

Broken Truth: End of Part 2. One part left. I'm sure you guys will like the last part, a very good friend of mine gave me the perfect idea for this. Thoughts and comments are welcome but please be respectful.

#young justice #cassandra savage x reader #yandere cassandra savage #romantic yandere

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envihellbender · 2 months ago

Note

Headcanons: DBD killers of your choice with an immobile S/O

For some reason even though I prefer submissive feeders, a lot of these were submissive feedees…

Content: extreme weight gain, dom/sub feedee/feeder (both variations), soft and hard feedism, some force, some gross references that aren’t gone into, 18+

The Trapper

Evan (Trapper) is a loving romantic feeder with Maxie (Hillbilly) feedee, not completely intentional but it becomes it over time.

Evan originally enjoys spending time with Maxie because his new friend has absolutely no idea who Evan is. Living in isolation no one had ever heard of the Miner (a title the Entity at least had the grace not to bestow upon Evan) or the MacMillan family. When he saw how much of a cruel childhood and life Maxie had had Evan found him feeling protective of the one person he could be his true, complete self around.

Evan realised quickly that Maxie hadn’t ever eaten much but gruel, rotten vegetables, and uncooked meat. That was how it started, Evan using the Entities realms to take Maxie to the nicest restaurants. Not particularly fancy places, just homely ones where they were the only customers and buffets materialised in front of them.

It didn’t take long for Maxie to discover he had a sweet tooth - cake and ice cream in particular, that he liked chicken fat better cooked, and that there were more fruits than rotting apples and blackberries.

Somewhere along the way it becomes less about Evan showing Maxie everything he’s missed and more about shoving cake into his mouth and watching his ever growing gut pour into his lap. It’s about rubbing Maxie’s stuffed gut and helping him to his feet. Evan expected to experience the Entity’s wrath when Maxie could no longer walk without aid… but quite the contrary. The Entity had a a soft spot for Maxie however, and decided that its realm had great use for an immobile blob, a sweet young man to feed full to the brim. There were so many different ways the creatures it tormented could be cooked after all.

The Cannibal

Bubba is a devoted, romantic feeder, but his victim is a very reluctant feedee.

Bubba loves to cook, and he always cooks far too much. Usually this means in his little cottage the Entity has made for him there’s hundreds of carefully sealed boxes and just as many jars filled with different dishes. Something about this realm means food doesn’t go bad here, only there however, if Bubba doesn’t harvest the food outside quick enough it rots far too quickly. As a result, any visitor he has ends up being given a delicious feast and leftovers to go home with.

So when you show up, despite how suspicious he is since he never saw strangers round these parts, he was delighted to have someone to break bread with. Or rather, someone to feed, and feed, and feed. At least he wanted to, but you looked so terrified of him. He supposed it was his appearance… but that was fine, you’d learn not to be afraid eventually. For now he’ll just have to tie you to the kitchen chair to make sure you don’t escape before you realise.

It doesn’t matter how much you refuse to eat, he shoves it all in your mouth anyway, and since you look so skinny he’s added some of his specially made appetite enhancers. As a result it’s not long before your aching, growling stomach is screaming for him to feed you. He doesn’t account for how much of an effect they have when you have gained such a large amount, when he doesn’t wake up in time for breakfast one day he comes in to see you’ve began eating the dining table. A cute glassy eyed expression on your face and splinters stuck in your huge plump lips.

By the time you’ve breached a thousand pounds your brain is essentially gone. Bubba has moved you to the bedroom, all comfortable and welcoming with no need for rope that bites into your ever growing joints (which are no longer visible under your shapeless mass.) You make noises like a hog instead of speaking, not that you have anything worth saying. All you want and need is food, a constant supply to keep you nice and full… Not that your ever full these days.

The Ghost Face

Jed would initiate a 24 hour sub/dom feedee/feeder relationship at the drop of a hat, in this case with the reader.

You recognise Jed Olsen instantly from the first day he enters your parents’ restaurant. You had woken up at 6:00am every morning to read his latest reports on the Roseville Murderers, and everything he’d ever written on historical true crime, your favourite being his analysis of the Miner. You felt like you got him more than anyone else did, and it was to your shame that the first time you saw him whilst you sat on a reinforced chair at the table opposite surrounded by your college work that your dad came over shouting ‘hey piggy’. A humiliating nickname referring to your five hundred pound body, and unfortunately that was what caught his attention.

The next time he came in you paid for his meals and declared them on the house, he came over to say thank you, a little smirk on his lips as he caught a glimpse of your work for your Criminology course. You couldn’t help but grin as you were currently working on your report of “Why We Need the Ghost Face Killer”. You knew your professor wouldn’t accept it, but geniuses weren’t always appreciated in their time.

He didn’t come in the next day to your dismay, but when you heard his voice at the door at closing time you felt your heartbeat in your ears. You couldn’t speak as he came to your regular table with two large boxes of donuts. Your dad gave a disapproving look but stayed quiet, “the customer was always right” after all. Jed asked if you wanted to talk true crime and share some snacks, you didn’t notice that he didn’t touch the donuts, he just watched you eat them. That was always what he called your first date.

Things moved very quickly after that, as soon as you admitted you knew he was the Ghost Face killer there was no need for secrecy. Jed set out a list of rules for you to follow from now on. Firstly, you would eat whatever he gave you whenever he gave it to you. It didn’t matter what you were doing - sleeping, jerking off, shitting, if he had food to shove in your mouth it was filling your mouth. End of discussion. Secondly, Jed was your owner now, and he decided everything from the clothes you wore, to the places you went to, and to who you spoke to. Finally, and most importantly, you would he weighed daily. If your weight went down you’d be punished, if it went up you’d be rewarded. You didn’t have a choice really, he pretended you did but given that he was shoving cake in your mouth as he told you, and given that he’d just fucked you full of his seed that was dripping down your bloated fupa… what were you going to say?

The best part was when you reached immobility, the first day you tried to get out of bed and failed he was delighted. When you tried harder and just broke the rail Jed had installed for you in your new home (no college dorms any more, his pet didn’t need college), he was so happy he gave you the best reward he could. You were going to be his new corpse disposal, and you couldn’t think of a higher honour.

The Pig

Amanda is a submissive feeder to a dominant feedee, Michael Myers.

It was an unexpected pairing. They first started talking when Amanda had a lunch box filled with delicious homemade food shoved into her hands from Bubba, the third of the week. Amanda hadn’t ever had much of an appetite during her life, so in the Entity’s realm she never ate. She didn’t have to, it wasn’t fun, why bother? However she didn’t have enough experience accepting presents to know how to turn them down. This time, Michael waddled over to her, it was strange - she’d heard of the Halloween Murders but she hadn’t ever pictured Michael as being quite so obese. It seemed the Entity changed them all. She didn’t know how but despite him not talking she knew he was asking if she was going to eat the gift, she shrugged and handed it over. It seemed this new arrangement would suit everyone involved.

Amanda began bringing Bubba’s gifts to Michael, unaware to begin with that he’d already received a large amount from the Cannibal. With twice as much of one food source, on top of everything else - especially with the appetite enhancers Bubba drugged his food with - Michael began to gain to a far greater extent. Amanda found herself hanging around him, finding she actually quite liked serving him. He got more and more demanding as he grew, and Amanda became softer and meeker. When he became immobile she responded by using him as a gigantic bed. She’d climb on top of his gut and curl up to sleep, she’d stretch out and laze around, and shove food and corpses into Michael’s mouth.

Michael was always demanding about his requests, and if Amanda was too slow she’d feel some fat fingers tugging on her hair, or she’d have a gigantic roll crush her small body when she returned. She was expected to predict when he would be hungry, and she got very good at it. She enjoyed having a space where she was completely dependent on someone else, she needed extreme amounts of control or none at all.

Michael never seemed interested in Amanda when it came to sex, and she didn’t care much about intimacy when it came to him either. No, their relationship was entirely about causing Michael to be as fat as possible, and giving Amanda a firm hand so she could just be a pet whose special trick was bringing food to her master.

The Trickster

Ji-Woon feeds his partner out of sadism, and Jed gains out of careless hedonism.

Ji-Woon doesn’t like Jed at all. He can’t stand him, but also considers him fascinating. Whenever Jed laughs or goes on about the Miner or his other heroes Ji-Woon cringes and scoffs, he was such an embarrassing little fanboy. However, the fact Jed hung around Ji-Woon so much wasn’t really something he fought against. In fact, he decided to play a game to see just how oblivious he could be, to prove he wasn’t the master stalker he claimed.

It started small, they’d always eat lunch together - Ji-Woon would have something small and he’d watch as Jed stuffed his face again, and again, and again. He’s even encouraged it, plating up more food than he could eat and pushing it towards Jed. After that, it’s easy. A few comments about how attractive fat men are, Ji-Woon lightly brushes his index finger over Jed’s ever-growing gut… Soon Jed is gorging himself regularly for a little bit of Ji-Woon’s attention.

Thankfully, the Entity is on board and adapts Jed’s abilities to work despite his size - especially since at five hundred pounds Jed’s asthma means he can’t walk too long at all. Ji-Woon, represses a cruel laugh at his wheezing chest and deep red cheeks. Instead he croons, stroking Jed’s face and feigning sympathy.

It’s only when Jed is a thousand pounds and beyond repair that Ji-Woon comes clean. He slaps Jed’s gut cruelly and admits this was simply a curiosity to him, a game. Surely a master stalker based killer should have realised that sooner? He brags about how much cleverer he is, and how Jed is just his pathetic little pet hog.

What Ji-Woon doesn’t account for is the fact Jed can still lift his arms, and how it feels to be crushed under gigantic, heavy, sweat soaked rolls of flesh.

The Huntress

She is a devoted feeder, but her feeder has to be forced into both being fed and romance for a while until their brain has been broken.

Ever since she found you in the forest bleeding to death, you’ve never been able to leave your bed. She nursed you back to health, but she also restrained you with bonds tighter than steel.

The rope against your wrists and ankles didn’t loosen until the masses of meat she brought you to eat began to make your body too huge and weak to rise yourself.

At first you were a weeping, skinny little thing, tugging at your ropes and unappreciative of all she was doing for you. Screaming at every opportunity. As soon as you hit three hundred pounds your attitude changed. You began mewling for her, licking the blood from the dead carcasses she brought you off of her fingers.

By the time you are an immobile blob, you are truly devoted to her. You feel a pain in your gut when she is away, needing to eat to hide it to the point where if enough meat is not left you begin eating the furniture. Not that your love ever scolds you if you do, she hums, giggles and rubs your gut, she teases you a little but apologises for being late as she climbs onto you - your body now being her bed and dwarfing even her.

#envi writes #nsft fanfic #extreme weight gain #dom feeder #dom feedee #sub feedee #sub feeder #dbd fanfic

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josiebelladonna · 2 months ago

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”social media seems to be drying up!! why??” says the influencer on threads.

probably because:

ads are a dime a dozen

videos are a dime a dozen

you put those two things together and sites are an absolute bitch to load, even if you have good internet

certain sites, like recipe sites, are nearly impossible to load in one sitting anymore (and i’m glad the “cooked.wiki/“ shortcut exists)

you have this new generation of users that treats everything like “content” and wants everything to be “relatable”, no matter what the site is or who’s involved

said new generation is primarily and inexplicably under the age of 20, i.e., it’s not safe for nsfw accounts anymore (dude, i literally saw something on instagram earlier called instagram teens, and the only thought running through my mind was “oh, for god’s sake…” because it’s rectifying a symptom rather than a root cause)

said new generation gives more fucks about their fucking ~mutuals~ rather than things that do have essence like reading, learning, and real friendships, things that feel authentic and you don’t have to go out of your goddamn way to talk about them at every drop of the hat

sites change their rules, regulations, and layouts like how people change their underwear, and it’s almost always without warning, and it’s always disorienting, too

aside from say, livejournal, ao3, or dreamwidth, sites look exactly the same now, such that you often forget which site you’re on and you need to be mindful

with the exception of tumblr, freedom of speech doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, and even on here, you have reams of people self-censoring and resultantly ruining an already jacked tagging system

social activism is so exhausting now—in my experience, it was getting exhausting when trump was in office (one of the reasons why i went quiet for the most part when he was in office; i just knew it was going to be bad). threads is probably the one exception but for the most part, it feels like all anyone wants to do is scream and be completely condescending about what they believe in. in the case of people who are pro-palestine, they’re belligerent and completely deaf to their own antics. shit gets on your nerves quick.

speaking of, there’s an awful lot of talk of “mental health awareness”, but is there anything being done? in my view, nothing has been done. you’re more focused on being aware that this thing exists and you jump to conclusions about someone who’s actually honest about their feelings and their experiences, and it’s only because you want brownie points. and since you’re too egotistical and too far detached from your own humanity, i fully expect you to argue with me on this.

there’s just something phony about the whole thing. look no further than the kinktober tag, believe it or not: writing about what other people want to see rather than what you like all for the lulz, the brownie points, and the new ~mutuals~ so it feels very synthetic and inadvertently anti-fanfic. it’s like, i get that fic is inherently amateurish. i get that completely. but i can read a fic from 2006 and see what they’re getting at. these fics are often incomprehensible at worst—i have probably asked “am i just too old for this?” more times than i ever would’ve liked in the last four years alone it’s hard to believe anything you read, really. true sincerity is written off as nonsense (and in my case, straight-up ostracized) while extravagance is praised. people who go off about authenticity at every opportunity are oddly fake, too: why feel a need to talk when you can just be?

art doesn’t exist anymore. …let me rephrase this: somewhere along the way, art became more and more about the business side rather than actually making it, and somewhere along the way, it all started to homogenize itself. all the faces look the same. the methods look the same. the techniques look the same. there is also the lingering existential threat of ai, scraping away at digital art and photography for its bubbling cauldron of a database, so you don’t trust pieces of art now. rather than connect to humanity, you look at it like it’s about to steal your money and your clothes.

no one can go out and suck anymore. you might have seen posts on here telling you that you are free to be cringe but even those feel phoned in. again, why not just be?

#writing it out here because the person over there limited reposts and comments 😒#text #social media

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auxiliarydetective · 1 year ago

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OC Pride Challenge: Day 10

You can find the challenge here

We're currently in LGBTQIA+ Tropes week and for today's prompt I decided to use...

Family of Choice for Kit Kelley

Yes, we're doing Kit again, because nothing beats the chaotic family that is the A-Team. But it gets bloody, so watch out for that.

Hannibal, B.A. and Kit snuck through the bushes, towards Sanchez’s hideout. Face and Murdock were in there somewhere and they needed help. Who knew what they could be going through right now. Hopefully they were still alive. All they had been meant to do was gather information but they had been caught and now… Well, now they were in trouble. But they’d be okay, because the rest of the team was here. Finally, they reached the facade of the hideout. Above them was their entrance: The ventilation shaft.

“You sure you can make it?” B.A. asked. “That’s pretty high up.”

“Sure, with enough momentum,” Kit declared. “Come on, open it up.”

So, B.A. placed his contraption on the ground. First, it extended its feet. Then, its arm extended upwards like a periscope, segment by segment. Meanwhile, Kit took off her boots and jacket and shoved them into B.A.’s arms. Finally, the contraption shoved its claws into the vent. With one sharp motion, it pulled the cover off. Someone must have heard that. From now on, they were on a time limit. Kit stretched, then took a deep breath. Hannibal pulled a round tin out of his jacket and opened it, holding the white powder inside out to Kit.

“Here’s your magnesia, kid.”

“Thanks, dad.”

She dug her fingers into the powder and rubbed it all over her hands and feet. It was just then that she noticed B.A. staring at her.

“What, never seen magnesia before. Really, by now-”

“No, you just called Hannibal ‘dad’,” B.A. remarked.

For a second, Kit froze. “I did?” She didn’t even look at Hannibal. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“I thought you hated your dad.”

“Yeah, well, what better way to hate him than to take away his parent privileges and replace him? - C’mon, move aside, I’m gonna jump.”

She walked a good bit backwards, eyes fixated on the vent at the top of the wall. Did she really call him dad? Well, wasn’t he her dad? By all accounts except biological? He sure as hell acted like it, he was the one who had to deal with her shenanigans - and he was her emergency contact at the hospital and that had to count for something. With another deep breath, she sprinted at the wall, jumped and kept running, scaling the wall until she could cling on to the bottom of the vent, dangling from it by her arms. Swiftly as if it were a trapeze, she pulled herself up and climbed inside. So much for having overly big vent shafts. Whoever designed this building hadn’t had her in mind.

“Good luck, kid!” she heard Hannibal calling from below.

He and B.A. would need to find a different way inside. Knowing them, they would. But for now, she was on her own. Swiftly and as quietly as possible, she started crawling through the vents, peeking down through every opening into the room below, hoping one of them could help her save Face and Murdock. But her mind went back to that conversation just now.

I thought you hated your dad. Yes, she did. She definitely did. To even call him that was a crime, honestly. She hated Lieutenant Kelley. A man obsessed with his career and raising the perfect family. He had wanted a sweet baby girl, a girl who would wear pink dresses and bows, bring home a trophy husband and devote herself fully to the kitchen and children. Well, at least the trophy husband part had worked. Except that Face was a criminal. And honestly pathetic. Also, it was him bringing her home. Lieutenant Kelley would never get to see him in his life.

Bringing her home really was the right phrase to be used here because, wherever the A-Team went, it was her home. They were her home. Her true family. Murdock was the crazy cousin, in the best way possible. He always knew how to cheer her up and he fully supported whatever gender she wanted to screw with that day. On top of that, he adored her for what she was at heart: An artist. He always had an excuse for her to showcase her acrobatics and he was the one who had gotten her her throwing knives. The two of them were fire and gasoline, bad luck for anyone up against them. B.A. was her brother, skin color be damned. He had taught her everything she knew about mechanics and tinkering and they lived together the most out of all the team members because they actually shared a flat, the flat over B.A.’s workshop. He even bestowed her with the greatest honour: Lending her his jewelry. On top of that, he was there to defend her when she couldn’t or was sick of it. People had better stop calling her young lady or he’d identity as their problem, fool. And Hannibal… Well, Hannibal was her dad. There was no other way to say it. He cared for her, calmed her down, gave her advice, accepted every quirky bit of her, no matter what others thought. Good job, kid. You got this, kid. I’m proud of you, kid. What wouldn’t she have given to hear those words from Lieutenant Kelley when she was young. But to hear them now from someone worthy to be called her dad… It was even better. After all, what did it matter how long you were lost as long as you got home, right? In fact, the longer you were lost, the better the feeling when you finally make it home.

Finally, Kit struck gold looking through a vent cover: Beneath her, Murdock and Face were sitting on a bench in a small room, staring into the emptiness. A smirk spread across her face. With a good push, the vent cover sprung off the shaft. Immediately, Murdock jumped up.

“I told you I heard something! I told you-”

“Shh”, Face cut in, “you’re gonna get the guards’-”

Before he was even done speaking, the door to the cell flew open and a thug came in, gun raised. Quickly, Kit threw the vent cover at his head, then hurled herself out of the vent, at the thug. One punch to the gut, another to the jaw and he was out cold.

“Everyone okay?” she asked, turning around to Face and Murdock. They looked okay. Not good, but okay.

“A little roughed up, but okay,” Murdock said.

“Yeah, but you’re bleeding,” Face remarked.

“Oh, that”, Kit shrugged. “Vents aren’t meant to be crawled through, so they have some rough edges.”

Face picked up the gun from the ground, then they were on their way. They made an effort to be as quick and as quiet as possible. Kit led the way, because she had gotten at least some clue of the layout of the building through the vent shafts. Suddenly, a gun nozzle turned the corner ahead of her. She made an effort to run, but the bullet was faster. Within a millisecond, a sharp pain shot through her flesh. Still, she kept running until she was behind the next wall with Face and Murdock. There, she collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. Scarlet blood poured down her side.

“Okay, don’t move,” Murdock told her, sounding stressed and calm at the same time. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“How bad is it?” Kit croaked, her breathing fast and shallow.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Murdock reiterated over the sound of Face firing to get his revenge. “Try to take deep breaths.”

But Kit wasn’t breathing deeply at all. It wasn’t long until her vision blurred. Then, everything went black.

Kit woke up with a blurred vision and feeling very groggy. It took her a few seconds to realize she was lying somewhere. That explained why everything directly in front of her was one white blur. She was looking at the ceiling. Her muscles were aching. But as her vision returned to normal, a sharper pain emerged in her side. That was when she remembered. But if she was in a hospital, that meant they must have gotten out, right? Sanchez and his men wouldn’t have taken her to the hospital. That was when she noticed a nurse next to her, taking notes on a clipboard.

“How do you feel, Miss Kelley?” she asked in a calm, yet kind manner.

“Dizzy,” Kit replied curtly. “My muscles are all sore. And there’s this pain in my side. Y’know, where I got shot.”

“That’s all normal for coming out of anesthesia, don’t worry. The dizziness and soreness should go away soon. I’ll give you some medication against the pain. Make sure you take no more than three pills per day and space them out.”

“Alright.”

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“Great, “ Kit sighed. To be honest, she felt like she had been run over by a car. But might as well let the person in, right? She could still ignore them or ask them to leave. “Fine by me.”

So, the nurse opened the door. Hannibal came in, smiling at Kit.

“How are you, kid?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to her.

“Rosy,” Kit remarked. “Being shot really isn’t an experience I wanted to have before turning thirty.”

“Your daughter is going to make a full recovery, Mister Smith,” the nurse said with a smile. “I’ll be right back with the medication.”

Kit’s eyes widened. She looked at Hannibal and cocked her head to the side slightly, but he just smirked. As soon as the nurse had closed the door behind her, Kit blurted out:

“Did she just say ‘your daughter’?”

“That’s what I told her. Why so shocked? I thought I was your dad. Or don’t you remember that?”

“Yes, I mean-” Kit stammered, “I remember everything. I just didn’t think… Y’know?”

Hannibal chuckled. “I figured someone’s gonna have to walk you down the aisle when you and Face get married and it might as well be me.”

Kit chuckled, too, but quickly stopped due to the shooting pain it caused. “I’d be honored, but it’d take Face actually getting his act together. Speaking of Face, how is he?”

“He’s fine. Everyone else got out safe and sound. We found you a few minutes after you passed out and got out of there as fast as possible.”

“Good, good.”

“Everyone was worried out of their minds. They’ll be glad to know you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I bet. Can’t go without their circus clown.”

#the a team #a team oc #oc: kit kelley #opc2023 #fanfiction

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gareleia · 2 years ago

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Had Worse

Chapter: 4/6

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Word count: 6071

Relationships: Edward Elric & Roy Mustang

Tags: 5+1 Things, Pre-Canon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Depression, Racism, Parental Roy Mustang, Everyone Needs A Hug

Summary: Where the fuck did the Colonel find this kid?

5 times Edward said 'I've had worse' and traumatized his poor innocent coworkers with his Tragic Backstory and 1 time he wasn't able to (to everyone's relief).

Read on AO3

Roy had always been different.

From his childhood, when he had desperately tried to fit in the shoes he didn't quite understand, overcome the divide he couldn't comprehend in its superficiality (child of a festival, neighborhood grandmas cooed, and it wasn't right, he didn't understand, why was auntie so angry?); all the way to adulthood when he stopped being human entirely.

He could almost feel it, just beneath the skin, something crawling all around his rotten bones, and on his worst days he wanted desperately to cut open his chest and let the filth spill all over the floors. Roy wanted to see his guts fall out, charred and half-eaten by maggots, wanted to rip off his lying face and expose the sad, horrifying truth.

Look at me, he wanted to scream. Look at the thing you let walk among you.

He was a disease, an infection left to fester for too long, a rabid dog no one had the presence of mind to shoot, he was rotting and rotten, the source and the symptom, the negative space in place of a person bleeding miasma and poisoning everything he touched. People walked around him, glanced at the paper-thin human disguise he wore every single day, and no one ever bothered to look underneath, to uncover the monster in shape of a man.

Roy Mustang has been hiding his true self for as long as he could remember. Technically speaking, 'Roy Mustang' wasn't even a person, just a lie crafted for the sole purpose of legalizing a smuggled kid. Except that lie has grown and matured, and now it was spreading pain and misery wherever it went.

She should've left him in a ditch he was found in. Should've let them sell and use and dispose of him like they planned, because even to him the rescue made no difference. He'd gotten a respite, a few good years before stepping right back into hell of his own stupid accord, and this time there was no ending in sight. No salvation, no concerned information brokers with hearts too damn big for their own good.

He'd been given a second chance he'd done absolutely nothing to deserve, a home and a name, a family, a future - and Roy had torn it all apart. Spat in her face, wasted the life she had gifted him and taken countless others with him.

She should've left him to die, he cried drunkenly and his aunt still held him in her arms, safe and warm and closest to heaven than he'd ever have the right to feel again. As if he was a child again, bawling his eyes out about the kids at school calling him a squint.

She should've left him to die. She didn't. But Roy did. He'd left thousands of children to die in a fire of his own making. Children who, by all accounts, were just like him: unwanted by the government and hated for no good reason. Who'd never deserved even a fraction of what had been done to them. Who Roy burned with his own two hands, he was a mass murderer-

Not too long before that Roy used to be as much of an outsider. A poor little orphan with features too obviously eastern for even a half-breed. A xinee, the neighbors sneered, as he tried his best to act as a good amestrian boy. A squint who could never quite blend in with his blond, blue-eyed peers. A twinkie unwelcome even amongst the other immigrants.

It used to sting, though these days he only vaguely remembered, too swept in his new and horrifying defects to examine the old childhood insecurities. The pain of alienation, the loneliness and the burning need to become someone great, to show them all who they used to shun (I just want to belong somewhere, what am I doing wrong?) - it all seemed so shallow now. So simple and inconsequential.

After Ishval came Roy had started to crave that sting. The thought of dying alone and unwanted no longer tormented him at night (that was the war's job now) but instead became weirdly soothing. He didn't deserve comfort, but the freak he was, Roy still found it in the fact that there wasn't a place for him on this earth. No more monsters like him. He was an exception, not the rule.

And even still he tried his best to fit in with the rest of the population. Not because he wanted forgiveness or companionship-

(he wanted them all to take turns in striking him until there was no skin left to tear apart, no blood to spill, no guts that hadn't already fallen out and been crushed under their feet; he wanted the agony that pervaded his every living moment to be given form, written all over his pathetic writhing wreck of a body; he wanted that sweet taste of hell that awaited him if there was ever any justice in the world to mix with bile on his tongue, he wanted-)

Focus. Not because he wanted companionship, but because if he ever wanted to make Fuhrer he needed the people around him to accept him as one of theirs - or at least as the lesser evil. Most of them had already stopped giving him lip, though whether it was out of fear or respect he couldn't tell. Either way, his physical appearance wasn't going to be much of an obstacle.

On the contrary. If all his superiors ever saw was his admittedly quite charming appearance (too pristine, too clean, too perfect - he'd never needed to come close enough for their blood to stain his uniform) then he damn well was going to use their blindness against them. It wasn't hard to smile and wave when Roy had practically spent his entire life doing that. Let them see a fool, a loyal dog, he was but a tool ready to be used until one day when he'd finally sink his teeth into their throats.

(couldn't they feel his hatred? couldn't they see how he wanted to show to each and every one of them what 'Hero of Ishval' really meant? to snap snap snap and roll on the ground laughing as their whole damn institution was reduced to ash, down to the very last soldier? in the end, the only real difference between him and Kimblee was that he didn't get caught)

Roy had his eyes on the prize. He had a reason to move forward. He had a goal and until he completed it he would dig his nails into his flesh, grit his teeth and appear stable. Keep it together for Riza and Maes, his team and the Elrics, his aunt and his sisters. The ending was closer every day, and he could almost feel the pure cathartic satisfaction, a sigh of relief right before the gunshots.

It was the sole reason he woke up today, extra early, to the familiar stench of whiskey, vomit and despair. An impromptu meeting with the higher-ups in the Eastern Command, bright and early and on his fucking day off, no doubt to bitch him out again for something trivial. With General Grumman backing him Roy had nothing to fear from a bunch of paper-pushers drunk on power. They'd just have to wait and see. When he's the Fuhrer he would personally demote every single one of them to latrine duty.

That, and he would initiate the Miniskirt Mandate. And reform the cafeteria so that the food in there would be actually edible - and include some vegetarian options. And order a sign to be put up in the examination hall with a smiling cow and a phrase: "To pass the State Alchemist exam you need to be this tall!" in big bright red letters, except the height mark would be moved every year to be half an inch taller than Fullmetal-

"SAY THAT AGAIN, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I FUCKING DARE YOU!"

Ah, speak of the devil, Roy thought. Why did he feel the need to take a shortcut near the dorms when he was still an hour early? And was it really necessary for him to put up with the Elric bullshit when he was already hungover and en route to receive a tongue lashing?

It wasn't too late to walk away. Pretend he never heard anything. Let Fullmetal cause a scene and get in trouble just by proximity.

"I'LL SHOW YOU 'LITTLE' YOU FUCKING DICKWAD! COME HERE AND I'LL BITE YOUR FACE OFF!"

Oh, goddammit.

Roy had made it around the corner just in time to prevent a murder.

"Fullmetal!" he barked, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the boy only stopped because he was startled. "Just what I needed this morning, more of your immature antics. Are you bothering people now?"

That might have seemed cruel, but considering how many times Roy had to smooth things over after Edward threw a tantrum at some random minuscule occurence, it was usually a reasonable first assumption.

"The fuck do you want, you shitty bastard?!" the boy snarled. "These fucks deserve it, you didn't hear what he said!"

He then pointed his finger at one of the three men, the childish gesture clashing with pure murderous rage on his face. The soldier in question, young, thin, tall and with possibly the ugliest bloody mustache Roy had ever seen, backed away warily.

"Master Sergeant Bauer, sir!" he introduced himself to Mustang with a proper salute. "Caught an intruder on the base, requesting permission to make an arrest!"

"Permission denied," Roy shook his head with a tired sigh. "This is my direct subordinate, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Elric."

Bauer eeked, looking suitably intimidated. Not that Roy could honestly blame the poor sod for mistaking a thirteen year old out of uniform for a civilian. Although as far as he'd known the Eastern Command staff had learned not to try and stop the kid months ago.

Fullmetal himself was strangely silent, glaring at the man and the two of his friends behind him. Neither of them looked familiar. The one on the right was a young ginger man with ridiculously big ears that were probably going to win him an unflattering nickname soon enough. The left one seemed to be twice as old as the first two, and, by the look of his face, only half as intelligent. Though that might have just been the calvity talking.

Since when had ugliness became a requirement to join the military?

"Master Sergeant Klein, Colonel, sir!" the ginger squeaked at Roy's raised eyebrow.

"Second Lieutenant Dressler, Colonel, sir!" the baldy followed with a lisp.

"I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the sight of Major Elric, Master Sergeants, Second Lieutenant. I trust there won't be any more incidents?"

"No, sir!" all three of them chorused, sounding vaguely like chastised children.

"Good. You must be new to Eastern Command." he said casually.

The silence stretched. Roy knew he didn't outright ask the question, but surely the implication was obvious? Did he need to talk to them like to a five year old? Or worse, Fullmetal? They didn't seem that scared of him, so what else could make them freeze besides stupidity?

Almost a full minute passed with Moustache silently glaring at the ginger. Finally, Ears seemed to have realized that their fate was resting upon his bony shoulders and so he elbowed Baldy on the side.

The state of this country. Roy could feel himself losing brain cells just by breathing the same air as the three idiots. Which made his already pounding head that much worse.

"Yes, sir! All three of us, sir!" managed Lieutenant Waldo (and how did that man make Lieutenant with that level of brain activity?). "Assigned to Colonel Seuss' unit starting today!"

Huh. Poor guys.

"Oh, I see. You're from Applesweet's crew. You best be on your way then, Colonel Seuss doesn't endorse tardiness."

Or degeneracy. He'd bet a thousand on the baldy folding first and requesting a reassignment within the month. If he survived, that is.

"Sir, yes, sir!" the trio saluted again, remarkably in sync.

"You're dismissed."

Were he in a better mood, Roy would've wished them a good day. As it was, he was hungover, mildly irritated and in pain, so they could die in a fire for all he cared.

(children screaming - flesh burning - smells like meat - don't vomit - weak - don't let them see)

"So." Roy turned to Edward, who had been remarkably, wor suspiciously quiet during the exchange. "I have to clean up after you yet again, Fullmetal. Even on my day off."

He expected a snide remark. Something about him being lazy or smug or a million other percieved slights that the brat regularly threw at his face - which, to be fair, was still better than the kid realizing what was actually wrong with Roy (everything) and running for the hills. What he got instead was a sullen, tired glare that spoke more of defeat than real anger.

"Do you expect a fucking gold star for that shit? Nobody asked you to step in."

This was wrong on so many levels. Edward Elric didn't do defeat. He did the impossible with a maniacal laughter and ran exclusively on spite. For fuck's sake, that boy had tried to walk off a bullet wound once!

"Well a 'thank you' would certainly be a start. I did just spare you a court martial by preventing actual bloodshed from occurring."

And that was another thing. Edward was impulsive, aggressive and loud, but he wasn't outright violent unless someone's life depended on it. He never jumped on people who offended him unless Alphonse was there to catch him. The kid must've thought he hid it well, but he wasn't quite as brash and careless as he let on.

Except that when Roy had stumbled upon the scene the boy sounded genuinely furious. What did these men do to incur such wrath? Alphonse wasn't there for them to insult, so was all this ruckus just because of a comment on his height?

"What, you think you helped anyone?" Edward snorted. "These fucks are just gonna corner me later and then I'll kick their teeth in. Now you've just given them more ammo. Thank for that, by the way."

"Fullmetal," Roy stared at him incredulously, he couldn't believe they were having this conversation. "Are you being bullied?"

Was that what he just interrupted? How did he miss something like that?

"No!" Elric hissed, flushing rapidly. "No. I know what bulling is like and that ain't it. I'm used to this bullshit, those losers just really had crossed a line this time."

"Used to what?" Dear fuck did he let grown men beat him up behind Roy's back?

"You know," Edward coughed and shifted awkwardly. "People being assholes. Why do you care anyway, get off my dick!"

Roy suppressed a grimace. He knew that Elrics were orphans and really didn't have anyone to help them clear up their vocabulary, but Alphonse seemed to have managed it just fine. Why couldn't Edward string two words together without cursing?

"The well-being of my subordinates is my utmost priority, Fullmetal. If your safety is being threatened, I need to know."

If Fullmetal's safety was being threatened, Roy would grind the threat in question into fucking dust and then set it on fire. While mocking the kid's every move, obviously, because he didn't want him to get any ideas.

"Oh, for..!" Edward rolled his eyes with a groan. "I'm not being threatened. It's fine, I'm fine. Nobody ever tries this crap with Al around, so I don't even have to deal with it much nowadays."

"Nobody tries what?" it was like pulling nails with him. "How long has this been going on?"

Whatever 'this' is.

"Just... general bullshit. These three dicks are a new development, but the rest of it had always been like that? It was never this bad in Resembool since everyone knew mom, me and Al just got side glances sometimes. Cities are worse because we're not a part of the community anymore. Had guys in the market try to upcharge me more than once, though they usually shit themselves when Al comes along and asks if there's a problem. It's hilarious."

He looked uncomfortable. Roy was uncomfortable too, partially because he was not the right person to comfort a kid and partially because he still couldn't understand.

"I thought people in cities were in favor of the military?"

"That's not the-" Fullmetal smacked his face with his flesh hand. "Do I really need to spell it out for you? Here."

He rolled up his left sleeve and took off his glove. Then gestured at him to do the same. As the boy put their forearms near each other, Roy's heart skipped a beat.

They were so close. Too close. Almost touching. Except Roy couldn't touch him, shouldn't touch him, because he would spread his disease, break the kid, (they're all screaming-)

"See the difference?"

He forced himself back into the moment.

Edward's arm was so painfully small compared to his that Roy felt himself choke a little, both in amusement and in an unexplained, unwelcome grief (he's too young, what has he done?). Strong and solid, with prominent muscles and blond hair so light he wouldn't have seen it if he wasn't looking closely. Noticeably darker than Roy's own.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Fullmetal shrugged and started covering himself back up. "I'm not exactly your typical white amestrian kid, and you should know how this country treats outsiders."

He did. God fucking dammit.

"Fullmetal, that's racism. What did those soldiers say to you? We can file a complaint."

"I'm not fucking tattling on them, Mustang, I'm not a kid. It was the usual spiel - calling me a wok and half-breed, telling me to go back to 'my country'. I really don't care about that type of shit, but then Pervstache called my mom a magi whore and I was about to punch him senseless when you swooped in and fucked it up. Here, happy? I told you everything. I was justified."

Roy wasn't happy. Roy was the farthest from happy he'd been since he started hiding his gun before drinking. What the fuck?

"Why-" he steeled himself, even if his heart felt like it was trying to break out of his chest and leave, he had to know. "Why 'magi'? That's a slur for ishvalans."

(please please please don't be- he couldn't take it if- please no)

"I don't know. Because of the skin tone? Mom was amestrian and our shitty bastard of a father wasn't ishvalan either. Not that any of those people actually care. Although his last name did end in 'heim', so who the fuck knows. Maybe he was mixed."

(thank you thank you thank you oh god thank you god fuck-)

"I'm sorry."

Roy wasn't actually suffocating, it was all in his head. Just a passing thought, just a nuisance. He wasn't dying yet, because Riza would kill him and Maes threatened to do a full on speech on his funeral. With photos.

"It's... fine." Edward was looking at him funny, did Roy let something show on his face? "Really, it's nothing - well, besides the mom comment. But I've had worse."

"How much worse?"

"Oh, what's with the-"

"Fullmetal." He said in perfectly measured tone, with a perfectly stable expression, doing his fucking best to project the calm he didn't feel. "What exactly did you mean by saying you've had worse."

Getting Edward to open up was like walking on a rope above a canyon full of razor-sharp rocks and bloodthirsty chimeras. While it was raining acid. Tread just a little too heavily, push just a little too far and too fast, and you'd end up falling to your painful and gruesome death.

Except Roy had no patience for mind games today. Not while he was hungover and on a time crunch and working through a full-blown panic attack.

(don't let it show, don't lose control, they are watching-)

Perhaps the child was also not in the mood for making undue trouble, because he was surprisingly cooperative.

"Ever got your hair sun-bleached after a summer outside without covering your head? I'm already blond, so by September my hair gets very light. And Al wasn't much better. Had a military veteran freak out on us once when we were studying in Dublith. Combined with the tan, poor sod must've thought we were ishvalan. It's kinda funny in retrospect, but at the time we were scared shitless, because it turned out he had a gun."

"What?" It wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all. "What happened next?" he couldn't breathe

(a shot rang out they screamed)

"Ah, not much, honestly. The MPs arrived on the scene and heard him yelling about 'gutting them desert pigs' and 'killing all 'em heimies' and next thing we knew we were thrown on the ground and now the police were pointing guns at us too."

"What the fuck?!" They did what?!

"Yeah. Dragged us both into a cell and kicked up a stink about us being ishvalan terrorists. Looking back, I think they realized early on that they fucked up, but couldn't admit it since the guy in charge had already reported it to the military."

Holy shit, now Roy remembered that incident.

"You were those kids?! You made it into papers, Fullmetal. Forces were on high alert from Rush Valley to Laurelvale. Amestris Today ridiculed military police for months afterwards." More like decimated. Painfully.

"Well they deserved it. They're useless at best and fuck shit up at worst. Stupid soldier rejects. What do we even have them for anyway? Don't answer that, I don't want your smartass comments."

"Can it be, Fullmetal? You, implying my ass is smart?"

"Pity you only use it to shit, Bastard. Then again, that's all that you use your head for, too."

Finally, they were back in the familiar territory.

Of all people in his team he and Edward had the worst relationship. They were tentatively tolerant of each other at best and downright antagonistic at worst. Roy had tried, really, to find some common ground, but the kid adamantly refused any kind of peace offerings.

Somehow, Havoc got both of the Elrics to trust him from the get-go. Whether it was through a particularly good first impression or through some kind of sorcery Roy hadn't had a faintest, but the best advice Jean could offer was: "Just don't be an asshole, Chief, these kids are awesome."

Then Fuery soon managed to befriend the feral one, and naturally the nice one followed suit. That wasn't surprising, because Kain was closest to them in age and had experience helping out in animal shelters. He knew his way around strays. Sadly, the knowledge was mostly instinctive and his advice basically boiled down to: "Just have a heart, Colonel."

Falman, after the time they found him sitting in the office with bloodied hands and a thousand yard stare, started treating both Fullmetal and his brother with utmost respect that bordered on reverential fear. He declined to comment.

Even Breda, his sole ally in being distrusted by the pair, had somehow established a truce with them as of two months ago. And though his advice of: "Just feed them. Like, a lot. Now." was sound in theory, on practice Edward just refused anything Roy offered.

It seemed like every one of his men had had a weird bonding experience with one or both of them. Except for Riza. But Riza didn't count because everyone respected her, even the Elrics.

Roy was outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered, outplanned and outmaneuvered.

But he wasn't dead yet, so that was something.

"Anyway, they tried to scare us into confessing to at least being illegal immigrants, so they could give something to their higher-ups, but Teacher had caught wind of it by then and came looking for us. That part really was funny, because I know for a fact that at least two officers fainted. And one cried like a bitch. We didn't even get in trouble."

Of course not. Why would they? They didn't do anything wrong. If it happened now (but what if Roy had been that veteran? what if he killed them? what if-) Roy would've gone ballistic. Two children being arrested and treated like enemies of the state because of one visibly unstable man's ravings? He'd have torn them apart, piece by pathetic piece, for touching his kids.

"That's horrible." Roy managed. "If it's any consolation, they got into a lot of trouble for this."

"I don't really care." Edward shrugged. "What's done is done, and we haven't had any trouble with them since."

"And you're not going to. If anyone gives you trouble like that you tell me and I'll deal with it, got it?" he stressed.

Because apparently that was the one issue he somehow overlooked. So many things to shun Elric for - his age, demeanor, freakishly high intelligence, atrocious fashion sense - and people picked his skin color. Why was Roy trying to save this country again?

(children burning people crying oh god why make it stop I can't take anymore)

Right.

"Why?" Edward glared at him, half in suspicion and half... confused? "What's in it for you?"

"Do I need to have an ulterior motive for protecting my subordinates?"

"Don't bullshit me, Colonel God Complex." the boy scowled. "You have an ulterior motive for everything."

"My ulterior motive here is to make sure you're safe and not being bullied by some third-rate Marvin award nominees."

"Oh, so sending me on missions where I get shot at is fine, but schoolyard taunts are where you draw the line?"

"Those aren't schoolyard taunts, Fullmetal, it's a serious issue that many men face on a daily basis!" Roy was starting to lose his temper. "And I never send you on missions where an altercation is expected, but you still manage to attract trouble! I swear I could tie you up and hide you in an empty room and you would still somehow get into a fight!"

And give Roy a heart attack.

"Oh, so now it's my fault that people keep trying to hurt me?! You're saying I deserve it?!"

"No! Were you even listening?! I just said-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU BASTARD!"

It was at that point that Roy had realized what he was doing. He had just locked himself into a screaming much with a bratty, insecure traumatized thirteen year old. Thankfully, at least, the courtyard was completely empty, free of any potential onlookers.

Still, he was the adult in this situation. He had to keep his cool.

"Fullmetal. Edward. Look at me."

Before he registered how bad of an idea it was, Roy's hands were already on the kid's shoulders, holding him in place.

"Let go." Edward hissed, but didn't follow the demand with a threat or an escape attempt, instead choosing to look down at his boots with his hands crossed.

"Edward." Roy insisted. "Come on, look at me. Please."

He actually considered squatting down so their faces would be on the same level, but thought better of it. Mostly because he had a feeling that Fullmetal would see that as a grave insult and not an attempt to establish trust.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Listen to me, Ed" it was the first time Roy had ever used the nickname and he could see the boy's apprehension lessen a bit, probably against his will.

Now think, he told himself. What could he possibly be afraid of now?

Because that was what Roy saw when he looked at Elric. It was in his too-bright eyes, too tight fists, too straight back. In the slight shaking, in the loud voice.

Fear, masked by anger and bad jokes. But fear of what?

(fear of Roy?)

"I'm not trying to hurt you, alright? I'm not laughing at you, or gathering dirt on you, or playing a prank. I'm not trying to manipulate you somehow or get you to owe me something."

"Fuck you." the kid was breathing heavily, his face pinched.

"Ed, I'm just trying to help-"

"I don't want your damn help!" his voice cracked.

Fuck, was Fullmetal actually going to cry on him?

"You're just-" he sounded so young and vulnerable, and every word felt like a knife lodging itself into Roy's chest. "You're just an asshole!"

"I'm sorry, I'm trying not to be-"

"Well don't!"

What?

"You can't just...!" Ed spluttered and swallowed loudly. "You can't just- not be an asshole! It's not allowed!"

What?

"Fullmetal," now he just felt incredibly dumb. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Shut up!" the child turned away again, hugging himself. "Just go away!"

"No, I don't think I will."

Now he really did squat down in spite of his poor, long-suffering knees. Roy could deal with the pain later, in the moment he had more pressing problems.

Like the kid in his arms who was full-on sobbing now, albeit silently. For him it was probably a much-needed breakdown that had been slowly creeping on for months, if not longer. For Roy, however, it was a nerve-wracking experience, if simply because he had never had a child seeking comfort from him of all people.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? Stay still? Hug him? Try to calm him down? Distract him? Wait it out and pretend it never happened?

He wished Maes was there. Maes always knew how to deal with emotions, meanwhile Roy's usual solution was to push them down for as long as he could manage and then drink himself halfway into a coma when that stopped working. Which was not an option this time.

(What would Hughes do?)

Roy had never asked for this. He had just wanted to attend one meeting and then go home to try and sleep off his hangover. He didn't want to be in this situation, with a crying Elric in front of him and no one competent to give proper instructions.

(But deep inside something steered. Something he couldn't quite ignore.)

He hesitantly took his hands off Edward's shoulders and wrapped them around his small form, pulling him closer. The little alchemist stilled for a few seconds during which Roy stopped breathing entirely. He considered letting him go but in the next moment the boy launched himself into his chest with the force that almost knocked them both over.

And then the floodgates opened.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Ed chanted, curling into his coat and getting snot all over it.

Roy didn't have a clue about how to respond to that, so he simply hugged him tighter.

"Why can't you be easy?! Why can't anything ever be easy?!"

"I'm sorry, Ed." he murmured, rubbing circles into his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I'm so fucking sorry."

They stayed like this for a while. Roy didn't know what he was apologizing for. For not seeing his distress sooner, perhaps. For not being the mentor and father figure the boy clearly needed in his life. For the impossible, unfair amount of suffering both Edward and Alphonse had been through.

Roy had never been jealous of Maes and Gracia. He'd never wanted kids, never wanted the lifelong responsibility, and that was without taking his main goal into account. But it felt inexplicably right to hold this brave, fierce, precious child in his arms and oh. Oh. He got it now.

"You-you always go away. E-everyone always d-does. No m-matter how hard we t-try, you all d-die or leave, or..!"

Roy wanted to cry too. He wanted-

He wanted Ed to feel safe around him. He needed the kid to trust him, to let him in, because he was Roy's now and Roy Mustang was a greedy bastard. He wouldn't, couldn't let him go now, because they were both his. He fucking claimed them. End of story.

"I swear on everything that is holy, Ed, I'm not going to die before you're ready. And I'm definitely not leaving you behind. Trust me, if I ever even think about it, Hawkeye will shoot me."

"I'll never be ready." Came a muffled response. "No more dying."

"No more dying." Roy smiled wryly into the crown of golden hair. "I guess we'll just need to figure out immortality now, huh? You better share that Philosopher's Stone when you find it."

Elric awkwardly squirmed out of the embrace and and started rubbing his eyes furiously, trying to erase the evidence of what he must have perceived as weakness. Roy had to suppress a bizarre impulse to cup those reddened cheeks and wipe the tear tracks with his thumbs.

(what the fuck was wrong with him today?)

"But this never happened and I still hate you, g-got it?!" Edward's voice almost didn't waver, carrying on with his normal bratty attitude, but for the first time since they met Roy had noticed that brittle undertone.

All this time that boy hadn't been a feral and possibly rabid cat after all. Just a particularly loud hedgehog. With venom on his quills, sure, but still soft and squishy on the inside.

"Sure, Fullmetal." Roy smiled. "Nothing happened at all. But we're still filing a complaint against those three soldiers, don't think I forgot about them."

"Urgh. This again? Why are you so hellbent on tattling? Do you like additional paperwork? Oh. Oh, shit, you're a masochist, aren't you? That's why you let Lieutenant Hawkeye boss you around, you old pervert!"

"Excuse me?! I'm not old, Fullmetal, I'm twenty six!" For three more weeks at least. "And I'm not a pervert - where did you even hear that word? Nevermind, I don't want to know. Why are you so against reporting them? Don't you want them to get in trouble?"

"Because they won't, you stupid bastard. It never works, so why bother?"

"Oh, but this time it will." he smirked. "I know their commanding officer personally and let me tell you, Colonel Seuss won't be pleased to hear about their questionable hobbies."

"What, is he a hardass or something?"

"Dear old Abigail is a miserable shrew, but luckily for you she only hates one thing more than she hates men, and that is men who act like douchebags."

"So, you."

Roy didn't even need to say anything. He only had to raise an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't turn it off!" Fullmetal blurted out, cheeks aflame.

Truly, he was a delight to work with.

"To be completely fair, you weren't wrong, I'll give you this one. You see, I used to think that her habit of spitting venom in my face every time we talked was her unique way of flirting."

That got him a snort.

"Tell me you didn't."

"Yes, well, we cleared up that particular misunderstanding pretty quickly." Roy grimaced, but Ed started giggling, so he continued. "I'm honestly surprised she didn't actually shove those flowers up my ass, but it was an extremely close call. Word of advice, kid: don't piss of women who can transmute air into poison."

The giggling stopped and the boy gave an exaggerated shudder.

"More like, don't piss off women in general."

"Yes." he echoed with a grin of his own. "Women are scary."

Roy felt... lighter than he had in years. For the first time in months his mind has stopped screaming at him every goddamn second. He could almost, if he squinted really hard and tilted his head just so, make out a ghost of a will to live.

Not that it fixed anything. He was still a monster, calamity given human form, and he deserved to rot in the deepest, hottest pit of hell.

But as he walked down the path to the Command building with a laughing Fullmetal in tow, that part of him that Roy thought had long since died, that he did everything in his power to forget ever since the Elrics barged into his miserable life, finally reared up it's terrifying head.

A thought came in. A stupid, dangerous, absurd, tempting thought. If he ever reached out for that small hand. Would he be allowed to hold it?

It looked like the eternal damnation was going to have to wait a decade or two. After all...

"No more dying."

...he still had a pair of hedgehogs to raise.

#fanfiction #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #edward elric #roy mustang #angst #hurt/comfort #ed @ trauma #“and repreeess... this is HeAlThY”

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deyanirahayes · 8 months ago

Text

idk man this is the only social media that i have no ties to anyone on and i just need to vent/rant/ whatever bc the unsent project only allows 100 characters and i have so many emotions that i will get lectured at if i post somewhere ppl will see it.

i am fine. not happy. not good. just fine.

i miss a life that i never had. something i have learned over the years ive been alone is how much i love to run. anytime anything in my life gets hard i do whatever i can to run away from it. ill change my name, hair, style, house, friends, ANYTHING to forget that version of myself and that time of my life. i have never had a strong sense of self, i dont know who i am or what i stand for. its funny, my mother may have been wrong about so much but she was right about that.

i have done horrible things. everyday when theres a pause in the chaos i remember. i hate it. no matter what i change, the memories remain.

ive gotten better at taking accountability. ive gotten better at just making the right decisions in the first place. what might be the easy choice is rarely ever the right answer. my brain is sick, but other people shouldnt have to suffer because of it.

i started taking my meds regularly again. its not easy and i feel empty but if thats what keeps the people i love safe then ill do it over and over again. i still remember the last message he ever sent me. he really was trying even after everything.

i catch myself missing him often. its not fair; its actually incredibly selfish. things were not good. we were awful together because of me. i wonder if we had met later on, maybe things wouldve been different.

i doubt it. he was my first true love. if it wasnt with him it wouldve been someone else. thats how i know deep down i was the issue all along.

overall im fine. there is nothing special about me. anyone on the street wouldnt give me a second glance. i no longer feel pride in being "brutally honest". ive learned thats nothing but an excuse for being mean. i just dont see the world like i used to. i am not better than anyone else. i dont need to be.

im glad that im working on being better. im just sorry it happened too late. i couldve been so much more.

nostalgia is a funny thing. i am in love with my past. maybe its because in the end ill always be more comfortable in chaos. maybe its because im scared ill forget the things ive truly loved.

i still write about him. not music. its more poetry. music is alive. everything about him is dead now. like ink on parchment.

in the end, i really want him to know he was what changed me. im glad i no longer cringe away from mirrors. im glad i dont see her in my reflection anymore. he always did feel obligated to fix what was broken. i just wish my brokenness didnt cut into him as deep as it did.

i dont love him. i dont hate him. i just want to be free of who i was when i was with him. but thats the price of destruction.

#letters i can’t send

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chortu · 8 months ago

Text

This is an interesting discussion -- the text in the reblogs, I mean, not the tags. There is merit on all sides. I think some additional clarifying information would be helpful.

OTW has reported its total expenses, total assets, and total cash in hand every year since 2007, which is well known. At the end of 2020, they reported $1,761,512 USD. At the end of 2021, they reported $2,302,817 USD. At the end of 2022, they reported $2,767,306 USD. Of course, their annual reports are published in the last quarter of the following year, so it's possible someone in the org claimed a lower number ahead of the annual report.

The annual audits follow several months after their annual reports, and the numbers reported align closely with the annual reports. The audit for 2020 reported $1,764,107 USD, within $3,000 of the annual report. The audit for 2021 reported $2,315,841, within $13,024 of the annual report. The audit for 2022 reported $2,778,530, within $12,000 of the annual report. This should help dispel the idea that OTW lies about how much cash it has in hand.

Speaking of the idea that the OTW would lie about their cash in hand, if one has examined their public tax documents, it would be easy to see that it is the same CPA firm that does their audits, Davie Kaplan CPA. This is typical -- they are qualified to do both. It is also sort of reveals the humor behind the idea that the audit would reveal a lie from the annual report, which is based on their tax documents. It's the same team doing the calcs.

Without doing a yearly breakdown of their expenses, they spend somewhere around $550,000-$650,000 a year, without counting depreciation. This number grows yearly. It is true that without factoring in any of the plans for paid staff, hardware updates, servers, etc. on their roadmap, their cash in hand would sustain them for almost 5 years. Let us consider that their revenue is based on goodwill of the public. The roadmap to paid staff needs to account for the fact that these fundraisers won't always be so successful. Yearly hardware updates, servers are quite expensive. "Normal operating expenses" is a bit of a misnomer in this case. Their roadmap is ambitious. They'd really like to combat their high turnover by paying more of the people in their org. There's quite a few of the hardware updates they can't get to without paid staff, and their ambition to do these will cost a chunk of these reserves. In conclusion, it would be unfair to expect them to put the breakdown of where they'd really like to put this $2.8 mil in the long term because the plan for paid staff is incipient, and they may need to change these plans on the fly to account for more technical costs.

Speaking of the budget, it is normal for an organization to include in their yearly budget, the amount of dollars they plan to spend that year. It is normal for an organization to not commit to a place where each of their surplus dollars will go each year. Instead, we must inspect their annual report and their long-term roadmap, and endeavor to hold them accountable for it each quarter.

The idea that their legal services are all donated is misleading. They paid their legal team $84k in 2022, not counting various other contractors. In fact, there is a contingent that is quite upset about how much OTW pays for contractors.

A small note that an additional $10 appearing in their interest-bearing account after a year does not mean there was a singular transfer of $10 to the account.

The fact that more of their cash is not in an interest-bearing account is pretty comical. They've had some financially literate volunteers leave. Clearly, a financially literate paid staff should be one of their PSTO's first priorities. For those in the tags really upset about them not selling anything to earn revenue, they would need to worry about this from a whole slew of legal and tax perspectives. It's simpler to gift merch with donation levels.

There are other internal problems with the org that all volunteers are contributing to combating against from the inside. And to help them, we need to hold certain committees responsible for their respective tasks! (combating burnout, racism, the persisting horrors do persist!) The Board continues to release their finances accurately each year, and I certainly hope they plan to continue to answer these hard-hitting questions about their plans regarding investments and paid staff.

This org needs to plan and step very carefully to achieve some of their long-term goals. $2.8 million really does not have as much spending value as one might expect, with their plans in mind.

To those in the tags discrediting the work done on the website, I'll bring it out of the tags. Please consult their JIRA for all the incredible work done on the functionality and defect resolution of the site. Out of curiosity, are there really people who want the UI to get a modern Kim Kardashian update? Genuine question.

Certainly, there are many places deserving of a donation in these times. Those with abundance are free to give it where they choose. It would be more enticing to make a donation to OTW if they were more financially literate at the moment, but if we want those hard-working tag wranglers and database coders to get paid for their work eventually, it is also in our interest to ensure OTW has the assets (and the critical oversight!) to meet those goals.

on ao3's current fundraiser

apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.

we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.

our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):

when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for

yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS

they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!

no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that

no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose

i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:

otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022

otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024

otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)

also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!

but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.

so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.

oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#On a more personal note #I have donated some of my abundance to Free Palestine #And to mutual aid #But I have also donated a lesser amount of this abundance for an OTW stack of playing cards #And some of you in the tags will have to forgive me for not murdering myself about it #ao3 #otw

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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I don't know who else to asks that knows a bit more about ao3 but won't require me to go off anon. I came across this post recently: icantbebotheredsstuff(.)tumblr(.)com/post/681001917886906368 . I don't know much about maintaining sites so I'm not sure if this is true or not so I want a bit of an explanation (or debunking) of it. I block most anti-ao3 people cause they're usually antis and many of them are already spreading this post but I haven't seen anyone say anything against it yet.

Ah, what dumbassery will it be this drive season?

Oh, I see: it's the nitpick the financial reports genre.

If you haven't seen these, they pop up every 6 months and are the more faux-reasonable end of the anti-ao3 posts. People make them because combing through old tax reports to argue about what some particular dollar amount means is tedious, so they don't get thoroughly debunked. In other words, they're sealioning.

2014 was when I left the org because it was too time consuming and I had personal life shit going on. As I recall, it was a fairly wanky period with much worse management than now, and plenty of ex staff had beef, both justified and not. I'm not surprised someone left a salty review, but also... it's 2022, and the org has been through major upheavals since then.

"with how ao3 hasn’t exactly updated their site in a major way in the better half of a decade and the fans over inflate server costs, that extra money has to be going somewhere."

LOL.

That right there should be enough to tell you this person is an idiot. Sites shouldn't be updating in a visibly major way. If they do that, it means they're making a fucking mess like all the social media redesigns we all hate so much.

"But they haven't updated!" is a favorite anti rallying cry. But all sites experience tech debt. All sites need to constantly change as browsers and server software change. I think some people imagine that code just works forever, but that's not realistic when your code interacts with other people's.

Note: This post was made on a dummy account to protect my identity. I will not be responding to this post on any accounts and just want to make these issues public. AO3 continuously makes more money than it needs and that money could be better spent supporting minorities. Have a nice day.

This is also telling. Someone who knew their shit and who wasn't just angry that we're donating to AO3 instead of to them would suggest another nonprofit with similar aims of preservation, free speech, and supporting the arts.

I have no idea what the $13k is. That amount is nothing. It could just be the expenses from an in-person board meeting. I remember the first time we had one of those, and people were beside themselves about how ever meeting in person (like all normal orgs do and like massively helps your online working relationship) was a tasteless luxury. (Never mind that we picked a spot where two board members already lived and housed everybody else in a shitty motel to keep costs down.) The second time, the most suspect expense was the plane ticket from Turkey. Why Can't The Non-American Just Stay Home was the message. Gross.

The biggest fallacy in all of this genre of post (and they pop up anew every year) is that AO3 made its drive goals, so it has "enough".

AO3's initial drive goals are always some lowball nonsense designed to make us feel good when we blow past it.

AO3 ought to be expanding to protect fan art more. AO3 ought to have some paid staff because of how this helps with longevity and not putting an unfair burden on volunteers. There are a lot of things AO3 could do if it had more person hours (which are generally more of a problem than cash for hardware).

AO3 has "enough" to keep the site open, yes. That doesn't mean it should stop there. That's what you do if you're running an archive yourself and you ask users to pay you back hosting costs. It's not what an arts organization does.

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glorified-red · 4 years ago

Note

Could I request hcs for subtle ways the boys express their protectiveness?

Thank you for the request my love! I got to play a fun little game of ‘Eenie Meenie Miney Mo’ for which request to do.

Protective BatBoys

word count: 1600~

warnings: insinuation of someone getting hit by a car, mentions of attackers

I was quite tempted to write Bruce headcanons to this but I must hold back ><

Dick Grayson

Ah, Dick Grayson, the King of small romantic protective gestures

Every time, without fail, Dick will wait until he watches you get inside your house safely before driving/walking away

Its a really cute tick of his because he covers it up with a goodbye kiss and goofy waves that leave you giggling even after you close your house door

But its so he knows where you are, and he can see for himself that you made it safely inside because the second he turns away too soon, you may get locked out, or someone can crawl out from the bushes and nab you

Paranoid, he knows

He constantly wraps you up in things, when you two go swimming he’ll patter up from behind you and place a towel around your shoulders, patting you dry along the way

Very insignificant gesture but he doesn't want you to catch a cold in the A/C or Gotham wind

He’ll do the same with his jackets, maybe even plop his hat on your head when it's gets to the snowy seasons 1. Because its adorable seeing the hat fall into your eyes and 2. Because it'll warm your head up

Scarves too, he’ll even go on a tangent about how cold it is outside while he wraps you in it

Dick will always offer to drive you places, even if you insist on driving yourself to meet up with him or walking there, Dick will still offer because it means he’ll be present if you get into a wreck, sucks but then he can help with first aid

If you decline his offer though, he’ll politely ask for you to take Titus or Ace with you whenever you walk somewhere, they’re trained and he trusts them to keep you company/safe when he can't

Jason Todd

Jason’s protectiveness comes from a place of knowing how cruel the world actually is

He can't stand the idea of anything happening to you

If he has to, he will use his reputation of Red Hood as a way to keep you safe, putting a man at gun point and sneering out, “They’re off. Limits.”

He’d bust a whole trafficking ring if it meant ending a person who touched you or hurt you in any way

But Jason’s protectiveness doesn't stop while he's wearing the helmet

Even when you two are sleeping, Jasons unconsciously protecting you, no matter how you two cuddle, Jason always positions himself as closest to the bedroom door

Whether his back is to the door or he’s facing it, Jason needs the comfort of knowing any person coming into the room would have to get through him before even reaching you

He also envelopes you, he's a big guy so its pretty easy for him to wrap you up in his arms as an extra layer of protection from the outside world

Jason doesn't really like the idea of training you past basic combat or gun skills, hell, he doesn't like involving you in the family business if he doesn't have to

So he inserts himself into any situation you may need protection in

Which is exactly why he starts going to the gym with you as a work out buddy

Jason makes it sound like he just wants to spend time with you or help you achieve your goals faster since he knows how the body works from his Robin days

But deep down you both know his true intentions: he wants to keep an eye on you

The gym is crawling with creeps that have the guts to ogle at you or get too touchy, but having Jason’s 6 foot beefcake of an ass standing beside you the entire time is like an instant creep repellent

Plus, he gets to spot you and make sure you don't get injured from bad technique or from pushing yourself too hard

He’ll even encourage you with innuendos the entire time, but at the end of the day, he’ll gladly walk you home

Tim Drake

Tim is the most subtle about his inner protectiveness, a subtle King if you will

Most times when he gets protective, you never even notice

When you two cuddle in your house, it takes him a very long time to actively fall asleep because he doesn't trust your home security system if you even have one so he forces himself to stay awake just incase anything happens

But don't worry, he’ll eventually get to updating the security in your house

He does get these protective eyes whenever something is off when he's around you, they narrow a bit and latch onto whatever is off, glaring holes into the offending object until its all clear

Its quite terrifying to witness and very hard to miss when Tim is staring dead at the man speaking to you from across the room at a Gala, sipping his drink in the corner

If he feels the need, he will walk up and control the situation, whether it mean inserting himself into the convo or simply being present for it, he’ll do it

The thing with Tim though, is when he's protective, he’s almost always touching you in some way

His fingers playing idly with the ends of your hair as he speaks to a random person who walked up to you, clinging to your shirt/sleeves when he’s analyzing a situation and doesn't want you to go forward just yet, or even as simple as holding your hand as he leads you home

Tim also keeps small snacks/waters on hand at all times to protect you from Gotham heat and pesky hunger, very much like a mother hen because he also carries a first aid kit everywhere

He follows you whenever you walk alone around Gotham at night, he’s already on patrol so he might as well make sure you make it home safe, if anything happens he won't think twice about intervening as RR

If your going out somewhere alone he always always always asks you to call him until you make it to your destination, he doesn't care if he's working on something or in the middle of a board meeting, he has an assistant for a reason who can give him notes

Its become a normal thing for you to send him your Uber tracking link so he can watch it, if you don't send it he won't hesitate to hack into your account just to find it

Damian Wayne

Damian? Wayne? Being subtle?

Its usually pretty obvious when Damian gets protective over you

He’s the type who won't hesitate to pull out a knife out of god knows where and threaten whatever is responsible for you being uncomfortable

This leads to very interesting encounters of you having to hold him back because ‘oh no a random guy bumped into you and didn't apologize’ and suddenly Damian is missing

He’s also incredibly blunt, saying things like “Cover your drink” at galas or handing you one of those hand held tasers before you go out and saying “Go for the neck”

Will insist on training you himself, whether its hand-to-hand combat or with a sword, Damian wants to keep track of your progress himself so he can make sure all your weaknesses are trained

Its also because he doesn't want his grimy brothers near you, so its protective on all counts

But subtlety? Theres a few you can notice after being with him for awhile

He’s very careful when going out around Gotham with you, Damian knows he can fend for himself so he will gladly take the brunt of any possible situation

This leads to him always walking on whichever side of you thats closest to the road, so on the off chance a car derails, he’ll get hit first

Always making sure to match your pace when you two walk together, he doesn't want you getting too far ahead of him because he'd have to run to get to you, too far behind and he might not notice you getting taken silently, he wants you right in arms reach at all times

He has a permanent scowl and narrowed eyes but when he's protective, they get even more prominent

Bonus

All the BatBoys do the same exact thing out of instinct when it comes to protecting you

None of them will hesitate to step in between you and any attacker, pulling you behind them so they are in the line of fire now

Its a subtle action that each of them do, albeit with some differences

Damian will push the attacker back as far as he can from you, putting plenty of distance between the two of them and you, so if anything breaks out, you can run away easily

Dick will hold his arms out, fully covering you but keeping his hands in the fray so if the attacker tries attacking you from any angle, Dick is ready to protect

Tim will grip onto you somehow, keeping his hand right on your bicep or forearm so he can still hold you, he doesn't know if there can be a hidden attacker from behind that will pry you away from him, so touching you is his way of making sure he doesn't lose track of you

Jason will slip in front of you and cross his arms, its a sign of nonchalance but obvious dominance, showcasing that he doesn't need his hands to be intimidating to the attacker, he’ll glare and challenge them so all attention is on him now and not you

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@bungunz

@red-hood-redemption

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing.

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him. One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

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