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prettyboy-asmo · 4 years ago

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Spending time/showing affection to GN!MC (Brothers+Side)

I’ve had terrible writers block lately so I decided to just do some general HC about how the boys show affection/ spend time with MC to hopefully get back into the swing of things.

MC is gender neutral and most of the hcs are written with romance in mind.

pure fluff

Lucifer:

Lucifer is a busy Demon, so He’ll take any time with you he can get, Even if it’s just the both of you sitting in the same room, working on your own things.

He cherishes the moments when you can both do nothing together- a moment to relax with you. When you get that rare moment with him, he likes to be close to you, sitting close enough your shoulders are brushing or his head in your lap or you on his lap- it doesn’t matter

He also likes taking you out on occasion- a nice dinner, maybe some sort of show, symphony, theatre, if you like it he’ll go. Getting to see you dress up more than usual and knowing his brothers won’t be there to barge in.

He’s not overly touchy in public, but he’ll usually keep a hand resting on your back around others.

He’s not as verbal about his affection around others either, but when it’s just you two he tends to be far more open with it.

An absolute favorite of his, however, is when you get to fall asleep together. He’d never, never admit it to anyone else but getting to fall asleep cuddling you is the best thing for him. Especially when it’s you holding him, when he doesn’t have to worry about anything else besides feeling content in your arms.

That’s also when the verbal affection becomes more open as well, soft whispers as you drift off to sleep.

Mammon:

When Mammon wants to spend time with you, he usually invites himself into your room and just throws himself on the bed. It doesn’t even really matter if you say anything or not, he’ll scroll his D.D.D. until you finish whatever you were doing and pay attention to him.

If you take too long though he will start to complain.

If he wants your attention and he has something he needs to do like a modeling shoot, he’ll drag you along.

No matter what it is though, Mammon is always touchy (Despite how much he denies it) things like a hand lingering on your shoulder, fingers interlaced, leaning on each other's shoulders- he likes to be touching you in some form.

In public he’s just as clingy, his arm wrapped around your shoulders to hold you close to him, (you should want everyone to know you’re with the great Mammon, after all.)

Loves movie nights with just the two of you. It usually ends up with his head on your shoulder or lap, fingers running through his hair.

He won’t outright say he wants headpats or your fingers in his hair, but he’ll take your hand and place it on his head without a word (he also won’t make eye contact when he does, poor boy is blushing so hard)

He’s definitely not as verbal with affection. Though if he notices you’re stressed or having a bad day he doesn’t try as hard to deny his feelings and he’ll remind you how much he cares about you.

Levi:

Obviously, Levi loves being able to marathon Anime or spend hours playing video games with you.

At first, it’s you who has to initiate any sort of physical contact. It starts slow, sitting closer together, leaning against him, small things. The more you hangout and the closer you get however, the more used to the idea he gets.

Eventually, anime nights are spent cuddling while watching whatever show was chosen, and more often than not you find yourself in his lap when you guys play video games While he can still end up a blushing mess sometimes, he’s more comfortable asking for physical contact.

But it’s not just anime and video games. If you show any interest in cosplay he’ll jump at the chance to create costumes together. If you don’t know how to do something, he offers to teach you.

As you grow closer, he also grows more vocal with his affection, tells you how happy he is to spend time with you or how glad he is that you actually like him and indulge in his hobbies as well.

If for some reason, you both end up going out in public together, he seems far less hesitant to give physical contact. Usually it’s just him holding your hand (sometimes he’ll absentmindedly swing your hands back and forth)

He also enjoys when you simply sit with him while he plays video games- whether you’re cheering him on, watching him progress through plot, or even doing your own thing on your D.D.D. the fact that you choose to spend time with him is enough to make him feel fluttery in the best ways.

Satan:

Another one who enjoys the quiet moments with you. He likes to sit with you while reading, just sharing the same space as you is nice.

He also likes reading to you, and while he’s not very touchy in general he likes to have you close in those moments- especially when it’s you in his lap, leaning back against him and your head on his shoulder or you lounging with your head in his lap.

As cliche as it is- He’s a sucker for cafe and bookstore dates. He likes to see what kind of books you’ll take interest in, offer his own suggestions and ask you about your favorites, he gets to spend time with you and learn about you at the same time.

Will find a cat cafe to visit with you or an animal shelter. Lucifer won’t let him get a cat but he can at least enjoy them this way- and since it’s time he also gets to spend with you it’s even better.

He will absolutely tell you how much he cares for you. He ends up being far more verbal than physical when it comes to affection- he says his fair share of cheesy things (You gotta love it though.)

Like Lucifer, around others his hand is usually sitting light on your back.

He’d also love murder mystery dinner theaters and the like. That includes watching true crime documentaries/ unsolved mysteries with you.

Asmo:

He loves to pamper you. Spa days with just the two of you- offering you new products to try for hair/skin/etc.

If you let him do your nails he will be absolutely over the moon, even if it’s just a clear coat of polish.

Asmo is naturally a very touchy person- it’s one of the main ways he shows affection. When you’re spending time together, he’s almost always touching you in some form. Draping an arm over your shoulders, holding your hand, resting his hand on your arm- whatever you’re comfortable with.

It’s not just touch however. He has no issues telling you how much he loves spending time with you, he’s very vocal about everything he likes about you, how much he cares about you.

As much as he likes to stay in for spa days, he also enjoys going out with you.

Loves to drag you shopping. He loves picking out outfits for you, asking you what kind of style you want and going from there, it’s one of his favorite things to see your eyes light up when you try on his suggestions.

Will also take you out to the Fall and to some parties. It’s true he thrives off the attention of his fans, but when he takes you with him he’s far more focused on you than his followers.

He can get extra touchy in public. He wants everyone to know you’re with him. Even if he does interact with his fans, the conversation often swings back around to you and him- “Aren’t they just wonderful? I picked out their outfit myself, it really suits them, right? Don’t we look so cute together?”

Beel:

Beel cherishes any time he gets to spend with you. No matter what it is he’s excited to be able to share his time with you.

If you like to cook or bake though, he will absolutely be more than eager to offer his help or keep you company in the kitchen.

If you accept his invites to the gym, whether you do your own workout routine or film him so he can see his own form later, He’s glad to know you're willing to spend that time with him even though he can’t turn his full focus on you.

Also, while it’s not really spending time with him, if you come to his practices and games he will be so happy. He’s like an excited puppy and he’ll always thank you for supporting him after he’s done.

Will 100% give you piggy back rides whenever you want. Sometimes he will insist on it, especially if you seem tired or you're somewhere crowded enough that others keep bumping into you.

He does enjoy cuddling up with you, especially when you end up using him as a pillow or clinging to him- he got used to that stuff with Belphie and he’s glad that you feel comfortable enough to be that close to him.

A demon of few words, but he does have little actions that show how much he adores you. The most common one when you’re relaxing together is when he lifts your hand in his own, sometimes laying his palm against yours, sometimes playing with your fingers, sometimes simply interlacing your fingers and giving a soft squeeze.

Sometimes though, he’ll bust out an “I love you,”- usually the most random times, if you’re sitting with him while he raids the fridge, walking to classes, studying together, sometimes he just has to say it.

Belphie:

Napping together is his favorite, hands down. He’ll take any chance he can get to snuggle and nap with you.

He’s not one for high energy activities for obvious reasons, but he’ll never turn down a movie night or binge watching shows with you.

Love it if you read to him. He finds your voice soothing and relaxing, so being able to close his eyes just listen to you is nice.

Laying together in the planetarium is something he’d never even dream of turning down.

He’s naturally very touchy. Leaning against you, wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, he just likes to be as close as possible to you.

When it comes to verbal affection, it tends to come in the form of teasing comments. Though, when he’s just waking up expect sleepy whispers of affection.

Around others he’s even more clingy than usual. Hanging around your shoulders, holding on to the fabric of your shirt, sometimes his tail will make an appearance and curl around your middle.

Similar to Beel, he has little unconscious actions of affection. Tracing patterns along your arm/leg when you’re cuddling, nuzzling his head into your hand if you run your fingers through his hair, most often though is when his tail curls around you or drapes over you.

Barbatos:

Another busy demon, but he always makes sure he has extra time to spend with you.

Outings to markets and joining him on shopping trips is pretty common, and it usually includes a meal at a cafe or nice restaurant.

He will gladly let you keep him company while he’s baking or cooking- he’ll even teach you some recipes if you show interest.

While not outwardly affectionate by nature, especially in public, he will keep a hand on your shoulder in crowded areas and he makes it clear that you’re with him.

If you want to cuddle, he’ll oblige, but he usually won’t initiate it- It’s not that he doesn’t want to or that he doesn’t like it, He just likes it better knowing that’s exactly what you want.

He does like to hold you when you lay together, both arms and tail around you- he will absolutely bury his face in your hair/ neck.

You can also expect plenty of gifts-sweets he’s made, little things he sees that he knows you’d like, flowers, etc.

Even though he’s pretty reserved, his gestures make sure you know he cares about you and is thinking about you.

Diavolo:

Busy, busy, busy. There’s always something going on that he’s supposed to be doing, but Diavolo always has time for you.

It doesn’t matter what it is- The fact that he gets time with you is enough for him.

He does like to treat you to fancy dinners and such, though, in fact, he just likes to treat you in general.

Diavolo also is very liberal with gifts, though it’s not just small things. Anything he sees that he thinks you’d like, things that remind him of you- anything is fair game. He doesn’t really have to worry about price, and honestly, he’d want to get you the best of what you enjoy anyways.

Very big on both physical and verbal affection.

He loves to be touching you in some way, holding hands, an arm around you, you leaning against him- he has absolutely no reservations or hesitations about pulling you into his lap or into his side at any time.

He will melt if you run your fingers through his hair or lay your head on his shoulder/chest while you’re relaxing.

He’s absolutely not shy about saying ‘I love you’ or any other sort of affectionate thing, public or otherwise. (He will blush though, especially if you return his words.)

He doesn’t need to, but in crowded areas he will keep your hand in his or an arm around you.

Solomon:

If you’re willing to sit with him while he does research, that’d be great- if you're willing to help that’s even better.

He also enjoys taking you to cafes or simply being able to talk a walk with you- the change of pace is nice and your presence is something he can bask in.

He’s also the teasing type. Snarky comments and bold flirting- He likes to see what it takes to make you blush. He’d also get a kick out of it if you tried to make him blush. It’s not as hard as he thinks, though, some genuine words of affection and he’s blushing like mad.

He will try to cook for you. Once.

In public, he’ll let his arm drape over your shoulders, making sure to keep you pretty close to him. He’s got a protective streak to rival the brothers- he’s got plenty of experience with Demons, after all.

If you show an interest in something, he will be willing to teach you about it.

Man is a sucker for massages. Will melt into a puddle if you rub his shoulder/back. He also won’t hesitate to return the favor. (He’s surprisingly good at it- Won’t admit it’s because Asmo taught him.)

Simeon:

His favorite is little tea dates or picnics with you. A nice calm atmosphere and pleasant conversation with you is just what he needs to relax.

He also likes to tease and flirt, but the second you retaliate he’s a blushing mess.

Will absolutely take you to plays/musicals/ performances. Being able to share his interests with you is wonderful.

He will for sure write love letters. It doesn’t even matter if you write any back, it’s easiest to show his affection and how truly deeply he cares for you in writing.

He’ll be overjoyed if you sit with him when he writes. Sometimes he’ll even bounce ideas off you or ask if something sounds okay. He values your input above all else.

He’s most shy about touch. He’s honestly not as used to it and it flusters him pretty easily. That’s not to say he doesn’t love it anyways.

In fact, having you simply tucked to his side leaves him smiling and feeling warm.

He also likes to be held, especially if you’re sharing a bed. Feeling absolutely loved and cared for in your arms is the best feeling he’s ever had, and he won’t hesitate to tell you that.

#obey me hc #obey me!#obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #self indulgent fluff lol #obey me fluff #affection

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tenthgrove · 3 years ago

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yess thank you for letting me ask you about the lore >:3c so I have to get my absolute favorites outta the way first— what kinda lore and thoughts do you have for sorbet or gelato ( <- before they get together and the earlier years of them getting together if you need a specific period ) I have to also ask are you ok if I go down the “line” and get your thoughts in other asks about the rest of the la squadra babes? Thank you sm 💖💖 I hope you’re having a wonderf day/evening

Ah! Now this is one of my absolute favourites! Apologies to anyone who has already heard me ramble about my Sorbet and Gelato backstory ad nauseam on multiple occasions, but this is really an area where I can't help myself. Besides, this is my opportunity to go more in depth where I haven't before:

(Note after writing this: It's stupidly long. I'm sorry I just can't help myself with these backstories. I couldn't decide what to leave out so I decided nothing.)

(Also please feel free to ask me more lore questions because I love doing this)

We'll begin with Sorbet, born in Naples in February 1967 if you follow the canon timeline (although by default I write in modern AU so move the dates 20 years later). His situation at birth was absolutely dire, the eldest child of an incredibly vulnerable woman and one of her clients as a sex worker. Sorbet's mother was by all means a decent woman but her severe mental illness and drug addiction made it impossible for her to be a good mother, which of course had a bad effect on Sorbet growing up. After Sorbet, she had 5 more children, all through clients, and Sorbet was saddled with much of their care.

Though he loved his siblings, Sorbet was pretty much done with this life by age 12 and was easily swept up by older boys from the local street gang, who paid him well to peddle drugs when he should have been in school. This was a very underfunded neighbourhood so nobody questioned his truancy, and within the next couple of years he had stopped going to school entirely. Shortly after this, having acquired sufficient money through his crime involvement, Sorbet left his family to stay with his new friends, moving between them on a regular basis. He also discovered his sexuality around this time and dated a few male friends, though none of these relationships got very far.

By age 16, Sorbet had earned a reputation in the street gang for skilled and passionate violence, and was selected by the ringleader to commit the group's first planned murder, in exchange of course for a lucrative reward. Sorbet accepted, succeeded, and became the group's de-facto assassin whenever needed. He continued to hoard considerable money for the remainder of his adolescence, though continued to be functionally homeless since he didn't see it necessary when sofa-surfing was suiting him fine.

Before resuming with Sorbet, let's explain the life that Gelato came from. Gelato was born in October 1967 in St. Petersburg, Russia, (Note- I previously used the city of Minsk, unaware that this is in fact, in Belarus) to an upper-middle class businessman and his Italian wife, a distant relative of French Monarchy. Gelato's relationship with his parents was rocky from the start due to the fact they would have preferred a girl after three successive sons, but any parental love they had for their youngest child broke down entirely after he was diagnosed with both Autism and ADHD at age 5, in an evaluation intending to find the cause of some behavioural issues that were really, just a response to emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13 he, his parents, and two of his three brothers (the eldest was already an adult by this time and elected to stay behind) moved to Italy to escape some allegations of corruption in the father's business. They moved to a rural village in North-West Italy where the community was very middle-class and quite stifling for Gelato, who had enough social rules to remember in the familiar, economically-diverse city he grew up in. His behavioural issues got worse and began to include things he would later regret, such as attacking and stealing from younger children, and things he would absolutely not, like attacking and stealing from teachers. By this point the family had largely written him off as a failure, revering instead their academically successful, well-behaved older children, which absolutely contributed to the spiralling cycle of behaviour issues Gelato faced.

Then, at age 17, Gelato failed a crucial exam and was expelled from high-school. His parents kicked him out on the spot, and with no other family in Italy Gelato had very few options on what to do next. He recalled, however, one older friend having links to a street gang in Naples, and decided to see if this boy might have a route out of destitution for him. Indeed, the friend did know of a man in Naples needing assistance within the gang, but could offer no help in getting Gelato there. Seeing no other way, Gelato walked the whole journey.

Arriving in Naples, the friend's associate announced that the position Gelato was after had been taken, but taking pity on his distress, informed him of another friend who needed someone to look after an unlicensed bar that served as one of the group's main meeting points. He agreed to arrange for the small apartment above the bar to be given as payment.

Gelato accepted, but although he had now solved the problem of homelessness his life was still incredibly miserable. For one, with his pay being the apartment he had to rely on measly tips to get by, which rarely left him with enough to eat let alone anything else. Additionally, as an outsider with little understanding of the way gangs work Gelato was an easy target for abuse, and was treated like absolute shit by the bar's patrons.

By this point in time, Sorbet had just turned 18. He was, incidentally, in the same gang Gelato had joined, and a regular at the bar he worked in. For a good couple of months they took no notice of each other, until Sorbet came to be in a coincidental feud with one of the men who was violent to Gelato at the bar. When Gelato witnessed the two of them in a fight, he made the spur-of-the-moment decision to join in on Sorbet's side, knocking the patron unconscious and leaving him too afraid to visit again. For his trouble, Sorbet gave Gelato a portion of the money he looted from the fight's loser, and flirted with him lightly before going about with his evening. Unknown to Sorbet, he had just sent Gelato falling head over hills in love.

Gelato found out about Sorbet's sexuality from other patrons and, delighted, attempted to flirt with him the next time they saw each other, but his attempts came off very poorly and Sorbet actually thought he was being insulted. Angered, he dragged Gelato into the cellar to demand what was going on. Gelato, terrified, admitted having a crush, which Sorbet found to be the sweetest and most genuine thing he'd ever heard. While he couldn't promise a relationship, he did agree to show Gelato more attention in the future. But, it was only a matter of days until Sorbet found himself loving Gelato back.

This whirlwind relationship continued happily for three weeks, Sorbet greatly improving Gelato's situation through his saved money and helping him fend off the abusive patrons. Gelato, in turn, offered Sorbet a permanent place to stay in the apartment, which he accepted. Sorbet was in the process of moving his things, and they had plans to refurbish the place to make it actually habitable.

But then, everything came crashing down. One night the bar was subject to a surprise raid by the police, operating by the false assumption it was empty. Sorbet and Gelato attempted to flee but were caught, and in a panic, Gelato shot a policeman dead. Rushing to his defence Sorbet killed two more, but a fourth escaped to tell the tale. The couple knew they were screwed. Running to the headquarters of their gang they begged for protection but were informed the small group simply could not save them from a charge this serious, and gave them only a single night of shelter to plan their next move. Gelato, who remember had never committed anything more serious than minor ABH before, had an absolute breakdown over this predicament that night, and whilst comforting him, Sorbet devised a blood pact with him to stick together no matter what came.

Over the next few days, Sorbet and Gelato fled north, avoiding the police through Sorbet's skills as a criminal and Gelato's very convincing Russian tourist impression. They were almost at the French border when Sorbet awoke one night to find Gelato missing behind him. He chased his tracks to the driveway of a rural house, a tearful Gelato clutching a knife at the shut door and trembling. He informed Sorbet that he had intentionally led him to the village where his family lived, with the intention to break in and kill them as revenge for the years of abuse. Sorbet warned Gelato that this would not be good for their attempts to flee, but said he understood fully and would help him if this is truly what he wanted. Gelato agreed, and together they broke into the house and slaughtered Gelato's mother and father, additionally killing one of his brothers after he woke from the noise. The other brother, the youngest other than Gelato, was spared, as Gelato felt his role in the abuse had been comparatively more minor and he did not deserve to die. This of course, left another witness.

The massacre in the village was quickly linked to the one at the bar and Gelato was promptly identified from a comparison of DNA found at the scene to his surviving brother's. Sorbet, a known criminal, was identified soon after. Not only were the pair now known but the police figured out what their plan was and informed the French police as well, making things exponentially harder for the couple.

They made do for a while by hanging low and keeping on the move, living off money stolen from the parents' house. Eventually however, they needed more, and began making deals with local crime organisations to carry out assassinations in exchange for money or temporary shelter. While Sorbet was already a pro at this, Gelato found himself a fast learner, and soon realised he shared Sorbet's adoration for the act of killing. He felt as though he was finally coming to meet his true self.

Though the assassination deals were lucrative, they did not help the couple keep a low profile and the attacks from police were relentless. Several times, they barely escaped capture. All this was not good on their mental states, and after two years, Sorbet knew it needed to end. He and Gelato returned to Naples in the hope their old gang might reconsider protecting them, but they were met with a surprise as their old gang had been completely overtaken by Passione. Even still, the new mobsters had heard a lot about Sorbet and Gelato's exploits and agreed to get them an audience with a local Capo, Pericolo, who was impressed by the men's skills and moved by the sense of honour suggested by their love for each other. He agreed to initiate them into the gang.

Soon after this, Sorbet and Gelato recieved stands which, although not very powerful, assisted them greatly in the art of assassination. Soon, they were natural choices for Passione whenever a hit needed carrying out in the Naples area. At some point a few years in, they befriended a man named Prosciutto who had been recently forced into Passione due to his heritage. Prosciutto was also funnelled into assassination jobs and, with less of a reputation for impulsivity than Sorbet and Gelato, was the one given the order to form a new assassination squad when the need arose, around 1993 if we're following canon.

(Note, I hc La Squadra was created by Passione in response to a real life government crackdown on the Italian mafia around 1992-93, in response to an incredibly scandalous series of assassinations. In such a climate, it would make sense for Passione to want to consolidate an elite squad of its best hitmen, do avoid future problems.)

Due to personal commitments Prosciutto did not want to be the captain, so attempted to give this responsibility to Sorbet, a request the boss promptly denied. Prosciutto was, however, allowed to add Sorbet and Gelato to the team's ranks, cementing the three of them as the first members of the team.

Prosciutto would, soon enough, find another person to give the title of captain to, but that's a story for another time.

#small asks #haha small #btw if you've already read my backstory for them this doesn't really add much except add a few new bits of trivia #la squadra #la squadra x reader

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years ago

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Dancing with Our Hands Tied (5)

A/N: I’m sorry for this being late, and thank y’all for being okay with that and not wanting to kill me. Come chat to me about this chapter after you read! I wanna hear what y’all think.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Smut, some ass slappin’, lots of cursing, bad attitudes... So, the usual.

Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pierre swore that you were full of shit when you said you wouldn’t fuck him again. But, it’d been two weeks since that little rendezvous in the bathroom and you hadn’t so much as looked at him since. In fact, you stopped showing up whenever the boys hung out which was a red flag all on its own.

Each night that he inevitably ended up going home alone, he passed Charlie’s door wondering if you were in there with him, tangled in the sheets, faking another orgasm. His mind wandered to you and the sounds you made as he fucked you. How sweet they were and how clear it was that you didn’t have to fake with him. Admittedly, he thought about that a bit too much and he wondered if you thought about it too. He hoped you did. The idea of that night living rent free in your head was too good not to fantasize about.

After a weekend of away games, Pierre returned home on Sunday night and found himself slowing as he passed Charlie’s door once again.

His dogs greeted him as he entered the apartment and he fed them before slipping down the hall to wash the weekend away in his own shower. Again, his mind wandered to thoughts of you as he massaged shampoo and conditioner into his scalp. And, despite his growing erection, he tried to drown the thoughts with the suds until, finally, he had to make the water temperature colder to shock it out of his system.

When he finally stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist to continue through his routine. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when an unusual sound floated through his apartment. He peaked out the door to check if it was the dogs, but they were both already laying in bed waiting for him. He turned the faucet off and stood still.

“Pierre, fuck.”

His eyes went wide and he listened to the moans as reality crashed over him. He couldn’t believe it. You’d been so cocky, so clear that this would never happen again, but it was your voice that he heard moaning his name through the vents of his apartment building.

Check mate.

---

You truly didn’t want Charlie past the sex, but still you stayed in bed with him overnight and snuck out in the early morning. You never planned on it, and you really never cared for it to happen, but it always did. The moment his arms wound around you and tugged you against his chest, you were done for simply because it filled a void. It’d been a long time since you’d been held intimately in a way that didn’t involve your legs being wide open. So, you just let it happen.

You knew you had to draw the line, though. Because why would you settled for post-sex cuddles when you could hardly stand the guy? Why did you stay over when you found yourself sneaking off to his bathroom to finger yourself to the thought of his neighbor fucking you over a bathroom sink?

You couldn’t believe you actually stooped that low and you were thankful Charlie didn’t wake up to hear Pierre’s name fall from your lips. It was a shock even to yourself when you said it because in the two weeks since the bathroom, you hadn’t thought about it. Then again, you were avoiding the topic completely and now you were just a wall apart from him.

You didn’t stop yourself after you said it, though. You let your mind wander to the way his hands felt on your skin and the dirty words he grunted in your ear, and the way you felt with his cum dripping down your thighs. After your orgasm subsided and you came crashing down to Earth, you realized that even the thought of Pierre could make you cum when Charlie couldn’t at all.

When you slipped from Charlie’s apartment that morning, you were determined to put it behind you once again. But then you ran into Pierre in the elevator. Again.

You felt your stomach plummet at the sight of him.

“Morning,” he greeted as you entered and hit the lobby button that was already illuminated. He gave you the once over, eyes fixed on the men's sweatshirt draped over your body. He repeated, “Good morning.” “It’s too early for you to be smiling at me like that. What do you want?”

“I knew these walls are paper thin, but apparently so are the vents,” he murmured. Your body ran cold. “Next time you find yourself having to sneak off to his bathroom to get yourself off to the thought of me, just come next door. I can take care of you, you know that.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m offering.”

“Pierre, just drop it,” you grumbled, fingers pressing the bridge of your nose as if to relieve a headache before it even came on. You looked back up at him when you were met with silence and glared. “Don’t you ever fantasize about shit you shouldn’t? It’s not a big deal.”

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p’. “And if you’re referring to us having sex in a bar bathroom, I haven’t thought about it even for a minute. Until I heard you moaning my name and I thought, ‘I should be a good friend and offer her my services again’.”

“We’re not friends.”

“No, we’re not,” he spoke. “I’ll correct myself.” He faced you, all cocky and smiling, shoulder leaned up against the wall beside you. “If she can’t stop thinking about my cock, I might as well offer her my services again.”

The elevator dinged, signaling that it’d reached the lobby, and Pierre stepped away.

“I already told you it’s never going to happen again.”

“Let me know when you change your mind.”

---

“Hands off!” you yelped as soon as you turned into the kitchen. Seth and Josh were standing at the counter, fingers picking at the meal you’d been slaving over for the last hour. You shooed them away with the dish towel that was resting over your shoulder and they jumped away, giggling. “You two are awful.”

“We’re starving, YN.”

“And you won’t be in about fifteen minutes,” you said. “Now, move.”

Seth made himself scarce with one more lunge towards the food and though you whacked him with the towel once more, he still got away with another string bean.

“Thanks for making dinner,” Josh said, leaning back against the counter as you shuffled about the kitchen with more seasonings. “The boys were all out of groceries, me included.”

“Well, you’re leaving for a roadie, so I was honestly kind of expecting you all to show up at my door,” you murmured. “Grab some plates for me?”

There was a rhythm to your make-shift team dinners, so he knew where everything went for serving purposes. The boys raiding your kitchen the day before a long road trip was a common occurrence.

Josh started grabbing plates from the cabinet and as soon as they were stacked neatly on the counter, his phone began to ring. He stepped away slightly and answered. Pierre’s voice ripped through the kitchen.

“Yo, do you wanna grab sushi?”

His voice sent a chill down your spine, so you busied yourself with the dishes.

“Oh, sorry, bro,” he murmured. “I just ate at YN’s.”

He groaned loudly and as Josh turned the camera to show you, you flipped it off. He smiled when he saw you, “YLN, spare me a plate, would you?”

“You can starve, Dubois.”

Pierre laughed it off, and Josh spoke to him a few moments more until you signaled for the boys to come in and he said goodbye. They served themselves and shuffled out to the dining room table that was only ever used when they came by.

When you finally settled down with them at the table, they were already talking over each other, laughing at a story that one of them was telling.

“What are you all laughing about like pre-teen boys?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Boone teased, “It’s about PL.”

You resisted a heavy roll of the eyes.

“You’ve piqued my interest, do tell.”

The sarcasm was evident in your tone but Boone launched into the story regardless of the face it was clear you didn’t care about the story involving Pierre. At least, outwardly.

“We’re just ragging on him, taking bets on whether or not he’s going to get a free show tonight,” Boone laughed. Your blood ran cold and you snapped your head up from where you were looking at your plate.

“What?” It took everything in you to keep your voice even as you furrowed your brows, attempting to mask the panic in your expression.

“Apparently the vents at Pierre’s place are as thin as the walls because he heard some girl’s moans coming into his bathroom a few nights ago,” Seth said, speaking through laughter.

“He said she sounded like she was enjoying herself,” Boone added, only making your jaw clench tighter. Josh snickered to himself, “And he enjoyed himself.”

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, come on, YN,” Seth sighed, like she was stupid or something, but when he saw she was serious, he laughed. “He jerked off after.”

You weren’t sure if you responded to that revelation, maybe a soft ‘oh’ before one of the other guys jumped in to comment on it, but you couldn’t remember. It felt like you blacked out the moment it was said.

All week, you were embarrassed that Pierre heard you, and it was made worse when he said he wasn’t also thinking of you. But he was lying, because of course he would be, and now you wanted to kill him for making you feel so… vulnerable.

---

As soon as everyone was gone, you marched out to your car and began driving in the direction of Charlie’s apartment building. Except this time, you weren’t going to see him. You marched into the building, up to their floor, and all the way to Pierre’s front door. You didn’t hesitate once before knocking at his door, and he didn’t hesitate in pulling it open.

“Why did I know you were going to come over?”

“You fucking lied to me,” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. He took a step back and you followed as you spoke. “You made me think I was crazy.”

“You are.”

“No, fuck you,” you barked. “You were all ‘I don’t think about you’ and ‘You gotta get over it’, but you jerked it to my moans the other night, you asshole.”

“Care to come inside so we don’t alert your boy toy?”

Pierre stepped aside and let you into his apartment. You glared at him as he locked the front door and headed into the kitchen, assuming you’d just follow him, and of course, you did. He noticed the tupperware in your hand then and smirked.

“You brought me dinner, too, sweetheart?”

“I poisoned it,” you growled, deadpan. He laughed and took the leftovers from your hand to slide them into the fridge before returning to the pulled out stool at the counter. There was a plate resting in front of him with some sushi rolls, and he continued eating happily while you stood in the doorway watching.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You snapped, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him all too contently eating his dinner.

“What is there to say?”

“What is there to say?” you repeated, voice lowering as you glared fixed on him. His hands faltered as he brought another sushi roll to his lips and you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. “Admit that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking me in the bathroom either.”

He turned on the stool to face you with a look of confidence and threw your words from the elevator right back at you, “Don’t you ever fantasize about shit you shouldn’t? It’s not a big deal. Right, YN?”

You rolled your eyes and tossed a curse his way before turning out of the kitchen to match towards the door. Pierre was hot on your heels, discarding his dinner plate with a clatter in the sink before he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled you back to him.

“Be honest about what you want,” he spoke, voice low, eyes dark. His free hand curled around the base of your throat and he nudged your chin up with his thumb. “You want me to fuck you? We don’t have to like each other to fuck, angel.” He paused. “Is that what you want? Say it and we can both get what we want.”

“Pierre.”

“Say the words and I’m yours.”

“Fuck me.”

“Good girl.”

His lips met yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, his hands all over your body, and he lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you down the hall. Your back hit his mattress moments later, hair fanned out below your head as he kissed your neck, only detaching his lips from your neck as he peeled your shirt from your body and took his with it. He didn’t spend much time on foreplay, both of you already feeling revved up from weeks without touching each other.

After stripping you of the rest of your clothes, Pierre flipped you onto your stomach and placed his hand on the back of your neck to press you down against the mattress. It trailed along your spine until it finally curled around your hip, the other gripped the other side and he tugged your ass up to pull it flush against the sweats he was wearing.

Goosebumps rose along your skin beneath his fingertips and he smiled to himself, shaking his head in awe as he admired your naked body in front of him. He was thankful he’d flipped you so you couldn’t see the way he looked at you. It felt like he couldn’t get enough and he desperately didn’t want you to know.

You wiggled your ass, beckoning him to do something, and his palm came down hard on it. You lurched forward with a filthy moan.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed out, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. He ran his knuckles along the mark he left on your ass.

“You like that?”

You hummed an affirmative sound and he leaned down to leave a trail of kisses from your tailbone to your shoulders. He shuffled behind you and you heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt him hard against your ass.

“Spread your legs,” he spoke. You did as you were told and he shifted closer to you, head of his cock brushing along your pussy lips. The sound of a condom wrapper tearing filled the room and he let out a deep breath as he rolled it over his member.

He wrapped his hand around his cock and slid it along your folds. He watched the tension in your back as your muscles constricted and your hands gripped the sheets again in preparation for his entrance. And then, finally, he was sliding into you with a groan.

It didn’t take long for him to start railing you into the mattress. As he fucked you, he pressed you onto the bed and listened to you moan and scream as you took his cock. When he finally relieved that pressure on your back, you regained your composure enough to roll yourself back onto his cock and match his thrusts with a desperation of your own. His hands gripped your hips tightly as your ass bounced in front of him and he watched with wide eyes, mesmerized.

“Taking my cock so well, sweetheart,” he praised.

“You fuck me so good.”

“Better than him?” he asked, pounding into you as he awaited your answer. You nodded, teeth biting into your bottom lip as you stifled more moans. His tone of voice held an animosity you’d never heard from him before, but his cock felt so good that the question was forgotten within seconds.

As he approached his orgasm, he curled around you, hand dropping to your clit to help you catch up to him. His thrusts were erratic and uncontrollable, and he huffed onto your breath as he moaned.

“Come on,” he coached. “Cum with me.”

You chanted his name as he cursed into your skin. Your legs shook as your own orgasm washed over you and when you both finally came down, he eased himself out of you and rolled onto his back.

There was a long moment of silence. A looooooong moment. And then you sat up and walked off to the bathroom to pee before gathering yourself in the mirror and retrieving your clothes from the floors of his apartment.

Pierre was sitting at the edge of his bed with boxers on when you emerged from his bathroom. His head shot up at the sound of you re-entering the room and he watched as you approached the side of his bed to grab your clothes.

“Can you stop staring at me?” you snapped as you slipped into your thong.

He cracked a smile and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief of your quick switch-up in attitude. He muttered, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“Yeah, and you’re fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, I really am,” he grunted as he stood. “I’ll be in the living room. Let me know when you’re leaving, I’ll lock up after.”

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois imagine #pierre luc dubois story #pld imagine #columbus blue jackets fic #columbus blue jackets imagine #nhl story #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #pierre luc dubois x reader

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outofangband · 4 years ago

Text

Another Entry Into Angband Worldbuilding

EDIT: IN THE PROCESS OF A REWRITE WHICH WILL BE LINKED HERE WHEN COMPLETED

Complex trauma after torture and Angband world building masterlist

edit: and another relevant post

So obviously most of what I write is Maedhros in Angband but I’m very interested in the fortress itself too.

The cultures and environment, both ecological and social/political) of Angband are extremely interesting to me and I touched upon this many times (especially in these posts here: x, x, x but I wanted to add more about the complexities of the fortress especially within the population of thralls and the orcish populations who work in the fortress rather than as soldiers

I’m not going to be able to link all my relevant headcanons because that’s just too many but my masterlist of headcanons is here and feel free to send any questions, if I’ve touched upon it already I’m happy to either say again or link it. I like talking about this lots

final note: special thanks to @navyinks and @niphredilien and @aronoiiel for your kind words about my headcanons. Thinking and writing about this has taken up so much of my brain space and having people who’s work I admire so much say what you both did is the height of validation

I’m really nervous because I’m always scared I won’t have explained myself well enough or linked enough of my references or something but I’m trying to tell myself that if that’s the case I can edit and repost like I did for my extended musings on Maedhros’s capture

warnings: slavery, mentions of torture, medical abuse, mentions of suicide, murder, and eugenics. also includes a mention of harm to elflings (nothing graphic as this is an overview but like, this is Angband)

there are far more “jobs” than one would initially expect. most slaves are in the mines but there are also those in the forges, collecting various materials including in the gloomy underground pools. some are even tasked with watching orcish children and other creatures. while most elflings taken during raids and in other incidents are either killed or given to Sauron some of the older, stronger ones make up the relatively small population of those tasked with various cleaning jobs. The fortress is unsurprisingly not a beacon of cleanliness though some spots, such as Sauron’s work rooms are spotless.

Sauron does try to keep track of who new captives are and what they have done prior. The maintaining of a fortress like that would NEED a lot of skilled labor that you wouldn't necessarily be able to find among orcs who have lived their whole lives there, I mean, it's not like they can go and get an apprenticeship

I go into food more in my headcanons about Maedhros’s relationship to food and my expansion to the other prisoners (linked at the top) but while there is a room that is typically used for feasts and formal events,

The kitchens of Angband are a chaotic, messy place. I have a story that goes into it if anyone is interested but actual meal preparation is minimal. Stews and gruel of an amalgamation of collected and stolen ingredients are brewed and delivered, occasionally along with stale breads.

The tasks there are repetitive and painful, stirring and scrubbing

Though there is less active punishments from the few who oversee these jobs, they are nonetheless extremely unpleasant. Standing for long hours with no rest and with relief for blisters and bruises from the endless tasks are considered a luxury.

Theft of food is so harshly punished that it is extremely rare. Despite the high levels of starvation, meals in Angband are associated with such fear and dread as prisoners line up and are inspected again and again to ensure they have only taken their rations.

On a similar note, there are elven slaves who are stationed at the various underground wells and springs, collecting water to be delivered for various uses.

There are other places where food for the more important is prepared and served that are overseen by a few lesser Maiar and occasionally assisted by elves.

These thralls are generally overseen by orcish captains, at least one balrog, and occasionally one of the lesser Maiar. Elven thralls also work alongside orcs deemed too weak for wars and battle but fit enough to avoid, er, culling.

there are also those that Mairon uses specifically for various experiments and testing of materials. Many are short lived. Sometimes they die in the process but sometimes they are deemed no longer useful and are slain. This is viewed as a preferable fate to many others in Angband.

One of the most valuable materials in the black market among the elven thralls are various poisonous substances that can be ingested to cause death. While there are no shortage of these substances,especially among the thralls slaving in the caves collecting, they are heavily guarded for precisely this reason and the punishment for obtaining or sharing these is brutal.

There are also elves and other beings (orcs, etc) who are fed to various creatures in the fortress, both ones kept by the dark lords such as the dragons and the ones deep in the caves.

Serving as entertainment for the orcs and other dark creatures isn’t an official role per say but they do have a quota of how many they’re allowed to go through over certain periods of time. But abuses that don’t kill or render the prisoners incapable of working are rarely punished. It’s also not uncommon for prisoners to be forced to fight for entertainment, both organized by various orcish overseers or occasionally a more formal event.

Some of the higher ups will occasionally keep favorites. An example in the fandom is @aronoiiel and her fantastic and chilling stories and ideas about Rog and Gothmog. While Sauron does attempt to keep records of the thralls who slave in various places in the fortress, with a few exceptions he will not bother to investigate minor irregularities in headcounts.

There are also specific brands that indicate if a prisoner is of such importance that the maiming or killing (without the consent of Melkor or Mairon) would lead to brutal punishment, likely death. This could be because they are of particular use in a project, are of interest to Mairon’s experiments, or are prized by some dark creature or another

Torture in Angband falls into a few categories:

(note: I discuss punishments in the post linked right before the cut)

intentional, precisely inflicted torture for the purposes of interrogation. depending on the instance this may or may not be overseen or done by Sauron or another Maiar. if the information is more general higher ranking orcs and balrogs can take these roles but in the case of say, Maeglin where the questioning concerned something very specific and important to Melkor, this wouldn’t be given to just anyone.

punishments and ‘discipline’ as well as public displays to keep thralls fearful and lower morale or to make an example

medical abuses that absolutely count as torture regardless of intention

Various beings will also seek out elves for torture for the sake of it. see uh, my entire Maedhros in Angband series :/ for examples

(up next is landscape and ecology though obviously will continue to expand on everything here in stories and headcanons. Feel free to ask questions!)

#The Silmarillion #Sauron #Mairon #Morgoth #Melkor #Maedhros #In the Iron Hell #Musing and Meta #blind you be morgoth bauglir #subtle be my blade

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fitzefitcher · 3 years ago

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faction conflict soapbox, pt. 2

school 2: I’m tired of faction conflict, in general

@alldepressednshit said: To be honest, it feels overdone. Also, it keeps getting sidelined by *insert world-threatining asspull* BfA could’ve been great if it was an actual civil war. Like a baron zemo type setting out to destroy the horde and alliance from within.

@ashyteg said: I wish we could all hang out and play hearthstone

@baenling said: annoying as fuck. should have been over in mists of pandaria. literally zero reason for the faction war to continue

@swampgallows said: i just like being a zombie lady with a conscience and an ability to be hugged by huge monster people who are my family and would never hurt me

Anonymous asked: I wish people would stop bickering over which faction is worse, admit both factions are problematic and stop trying to morally high road the other for faction pride.

Anonymous asked: Hi yes I have come to talk about Horde vs Alliance. Honestly I use to be a big fan of it back in the day. Two big factions, warring over resources that would occasionally have to realize there are bigger threats. Thought it was fun, had faction pride in grinding up PVP reps to be like: Yes FOR THE HORDE. I just think things took a big downturn in Mists. Before it felt kind of balanced, sure Garrosh was "bad" but at the time i thought: well Varian started the war back in Wrath. 1/?

Having the war break out across the continents when before it was sort of like a cold war with a few active fighting spots was cool! I didn't think the Horde was being portrayed as 100% evil! But after that... I don't think the Alliance has really been shown ever in the wrong or negative. And that's just fucking boring. Not to mention literally punishes half the player base for preferring one faction. The Horde has so much creative potential but they never use it. So really sours it. 2/2

so I think the core issue with this is probably less that the faction conflict itself is happening, and more that it's happening but without any sense or meaning, and that it's happening in such a way that feels extremely unbalanced on either side. faction conflict, when it's done well, can be an extremely rewarding and memorable experience.

like, anybody that's played vanilla will tell you how fun an experience the scarab wall event was, and I myself remember how fun the thunder isle event was. and I think what worked for those events was that they were less like. Dark, Gritty War Conflict, and more played like a high school field day. Like there's certainly competition, and faction pride, but it's actually fun because it's more focused on Achievement than it is on Active Conflict. Like, people meme on the Argent Crusade Sponsored Renaissance Faire, but tbh that's some the most fun I've had with wow, and it ended being a really memorable experience for me and many of the people I was playing with at the time, in part because it was so light-hearted and silly and campy. in my opinion, wow is at its best when it leans into the stupid, silly camp, and that's why hearthstone has a better handle on warcraft and its characters than wow does lmao.

But I will acknowledge that this doesn't always work beyond just gameplay mechanics and overall experience- I love the argent tournament, but as a story, it's dumb as fuck, and at the time, felt extremely out of place for the wrath storyline. Like, we did naxx, then ulduar, and we were revving up to do ICC, which was (and still is, for the most part) regarded as one of its most serious story arcs, and it held a lot of gravity to it in terms of buildup, and the sort of consquences it would have afterwards. Whether or not those consequences were actually addressed afterwards are another issue entirely, but the point here is, ICC is an extremely memorable raid, and was very rewarding as an experience and story end (for the most part, let's stay on topic though), and it absolutely would not have worked if they had leaned into the campy silliness that worked for other things in wow. Here, the grim seriousness does work, because there was plenty of setup and payoff for it. like, even well before we get to ICC, or even wrath, there's buildup for the scourge starting in vanilla, and even in w3.

I think the wrath expansion in general was very very memorable, bc it was an expac where the stakes were pretty well-balanced in terms of alliance and horde content. like, the alliance's bone to pick with scourge is fairly obvious, and while the horde's was less so, the forsaken's was even more obvious, and there was planting and payoff of how the horde needed to go, both because the forsaken are their ally and this is their time of need, and that the scourge are a threat to everyone. truthfully, the alliance side of things I don't remember quite as well, but it was more staged as like, the alliance sort of acknowledging that Arthas (and that many aspects of the Scourge including KT and the cult of the damned) are very much problems that stemmed from the Alliance, and that they had a sort of responsibility to take care of it and make things right, even if they weren't necessarily Directly responsible for Arthas himself. So, there's equal setup in place for both factions, and equal stakes, even if they're not the same, and what faction conflict that does happen within the storyline has a setup and payoff. like, let's look at the wrathgate: a rogue faction of forsaken unleash hell on everyone at the battle of the wrathgate, whether they be scourge, alliance, or horde, and there are immediate consequences afterwards for each faction that feel engaging and meaningful. horde-side, you have to drive out the traitors that turned against your ally and retake one of your core cities, and alliance-side, you're taking immediate action against a faction that just completely fucked you over at a really key battle against a mutual enemy, a particular part of that faction that was already on thin fucking ice to begin with in terms of like. doing morally questionable, reprehensible things. and the ending, while daunting and honestly a little emotionally frustrating, neither punishes nor rewards either faction, and amps up the conflict in a way that feels realistic given the circumstances. And I think that this was really memorable as a questline, and as an expansion, because again, there was setup and payoff, but also, the prior two expansions weren't super focused on the faction conflict as much as wrath had started drumming up.

yes, there was conflict, obviously, but it wasn't so all-consuming as to make it tiresome or overwhelming or frustrating, and didn't feel particularly unbalanced or unfair. I think it should also be noted that faction conflict had never taken the spotlight so strongly in this way before, so it was this novel thing still being explored, and again, working off of things that had previous setup, felt like reasonable or realistic consequences, and above all, were balanced in what sort of story beats were being explored for either faction. wrath for the most part felt like a very natural, very organic step forward in the wow storyline overall, and while I don't agree with every decision made with it, particularly towards the end, I cannot deny that it was definitely one of if not my favorite expansion, and was extremely formative for how I engage with wow, and with stories as a whole.

all that being said, I think it's a fairly reasonable conclusion to draw that faction conflict in recent years has been souring the game for a lot of people, and I can't really blame them, as I, too, have a bone to pick with it. bofa in particular was pretty rough for a number of reasons, but I think the number one reason is how unbalanced it felt in terms of storyline for either faction. bofa imo sortof works as a synopsis for why Horde Bias(TM) is such a huge point of contention between horde and alliance, in that the horde faction spent most of the expansion losing characters, whether that be to character death or death of character development, watched their faction tear themselves apart for what feels like dozens of times now, and basically felt as though that the Evil label was being forced on them, and that they had no choice in the matter for any of this. The alliance faction, meanwhile, didn't really get much of anything. Kul Tiras isn't really as rewarding a leveling experience as Zandalar is in terms of the individual zone stories being strung together, the allied race factions they got didn't feel as fun or varied as the ones the horde got, and seemingly had no actions, issues, or consequences with any sort of serious examination. It's hard to have fun or get any sort of emotional satisfaction from a story that doesn't really let you do anything, and doesn't really show that your actions have any consequences at all, whether they be good or bad, and seemingly is spending all of their time and attention on the other faction. Like, the horde is suffering, and that suffering is definitely, wholly unfair, but the alliance seemingly isn't getting any sort of attention, at all. But because they're not constantly getting a bat to the head story-wise, horde players (including myself) just get really frustrated when accused of favoritism, because like. There is literally no benefit whatsoever to having blizzard's attention, when all blizzard does is take away everything you love lmao. This, I would say, is a matter of violence vs. negligence. Both are forms of harm, but they are radically different in terms of how they hurt you, and neither is inherently more hurtful than the other.

I think if I were to propose a solution to this, I think that the first step should be to pull back on faction conflict as a major component to the story, which they have at least partially. But I think the next step is to give a fairer distribution of attention to characters. Like, I complain about the Horde losing characters, and I'm not taking that back because it's True, but it would be remiss of me not to touch on the fact that, for how many dozens of characters the alliance has, the only ones who really get the attention are like. Human Males. In particular, Anduin. And if they're not Anduin, they're usually characters within Anduin's immediate peer circle. And then the characters that aren't human men and do get attention are usually ones that are getting shafted, somehow, or are getting painted as Wrong and Violent and Stupid for Disagreeing With Anduin- i.e., tyrande. And before Anduin, the only character that really got any sort of serious attention was Varian, which is probably why alliance players as a whole took his death so hard. It's hard not to feel some kind of way about losing a favorite toy when that toy is damn near the only one you functionally have lmao.

I know shadowlands as an expac has been pretty polarizing to people in terms of experience, but tbh I think this is a good step forward in resetting the stakes, and making things in either faction feel a little more balanced. I do think that the consequences of the conflict in bofa has to be addressed Eventually, and I'm honestly a little afraid of what they're going to do next, but this is alright for now.

#essay tag #faction conflict soapbox #warcraft #long post wheezes

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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Satisfied, Part 54

First

~~~

The lady’s watch beeped.

Marinette grinned as she pushed herself off of the couch. She dug into her bag and handed over a wad of cash. “Thanks, Linda.”

“Of course.” She watched the woman count it and then put it in her pocket. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Nah, I’m going to see my better therapist.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Harley lets you give in to unhealthy coping mechanisms, that doesn’t make her better.”

“Lalalalala! Not listening!” Said Marinette, ducking out the door.

“Right! Don’t forget your homework! Five more good things about yourself!”

“Oh nooooooo you’re too far away I can’t hear you!”

Linda groaned. “Ladybug, please.”

She sighed and stopped. She turned around, flashing a small smile. “Fiiiiiine, I’ll do it.”

“And they can’t have anything to do with how you help others.”

Marinette cursed. “I should have kept walking.”

“Too late! Have a good week!”

She spun on her heel and threw a wave over her shoulder. “You too!”

“And tell Red Robin to stop by!”

“Will do!”

She hummed lightly and ducked into an ally. “Spots off,” she said. She opened her jacket pocket and let Tikki fly in. She’d stopped using her purse to hold the kwami a few years back when a guy had attempted to steal it and she’d nearly given away her identity trying to get it back. Besides, she never had to open her pocket, so there was no stress when she was paying for something.

She pulled a normal yoyo from her pocket and started playing with it as she walked out the other side.

Marinette glanced up and grinned as she spotted the familiar yellow and black outfits. Signal, Orphan, and Queen Bee had recently started doing daytime patrols. Crime had dramatically decreased since, and Bruce was more than a little bitter that he hadn’t thought about it.

She gave a tiny wave and grinned when they sent some of their own. Marinette had given up on trying to keep the fact that she was friends with pretty much every vigilante in Gotham a secret. It turns out you don’t have to worry about people coming after you to hurt your powerful friends when they are, in fact, afraid of said powerful friends.

She heard her phone go off in her pocket and grinned. Also, the publicity was amazing for her business. That was also good.

She grinned and opened a portal under herself, dropping into the Siren’s living room.

“Hey, darlin’,” said Harley, who was far too used to this by now to even blink.

“Kid’s here?” Asked a Catwoman from the kitchen.

“No. I was talking to the plants,” said Harley sarcastically.

Poison Ivy glanced up from watering her plants. “Hilarious. But please do, they grow better when you talk to them every day.”

Catwoman sighed. “Whatever. What do you want to eat, kid?”

Marinette plopped down on the couch. “I’m not a kid. I wasn’t even a kid when you met me.”

“Oh?”

“Yes!”

“Then why don’t you tell us your identity to prove it?”

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Catwoman. “Do I look like I’m under eighteen?”

“Do I look like I’m older than thirty?” Catwoman retorted. When she saw the small smirk forming on Marinette’s face she quickly cut her off: “Don’t answer that.”

She huffed. “Think about it. It’s been ten years, do you really think I was eight when we met?”

“Who knows. Human kids all look the same to me.”

Marinette groaned. “I’m not -- you know what? I don’t care anymore.”

“You do, though,” cooed Harley.

A scowl made its way onto her face. “Whatever. Can I use the misty-thingy?”

Poison Ivy handed it over and Marinette spritzed Catwoman. The woman hissed and batted it away.

“I’m choosing dinner,” she said dangerously as she disappeared to the kitchen.

Marinette fought between the instincts to laugh and curse, handing the spritzer back to Poison Ivy. She rested her head on Harley’s lap and smiled to herself as the woman started to braid her hair.

“We still on for that raid on Sunday?” Asked Poison Ivy.

“Sure. I’ll see if I can get Red Hood to go.”

Harley laughed. “I’m sure Batman wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“Has that ever stopped him before?”

“True, true.”

Catwoman emerged with what looked like a burnt brick. She dropped a plate of it onto Marinette’s lap.

“Eat up, kid.”

She went a little pale as she stared at the food in front of her.

“Well, you see, about that...” She opened a portal under herself and disappeared.

She heard a click from her earpiece and flicked it on.

“Right, found one. Looks like a normal mugging,” said Jason.

“Location?” Asked Damian.

Jason gave his general area and sighed. “Right. I’m heading in.”

She listened in on the fight as she hopped from rooftop to rooftop.

Ever since Dick had taken up the Batman mantle (Bruce had, for the most part, retired), he’d made a few changes to patrols.

The first thing he’d done was make it mandatory that they communicate when and where they were getting in fights and transmit the audio. There had been the usual amount of backlash that arises when the bats are asked to do something for their own good, but they’d stopped complaining that it wasn’t necessary when Tim had walked into the manor for coffee with a knife sticking out of his side.

(She was pretty sure that he’d done that on purpose, but whatever.)

Next, he’d set up rotations so people actually got sleep some nights. They switched between two teams. The first (and best) was made up of Jason, Marinette, and Damian. The rest of the time it would be Dick, Tim, and -- occasionally -- Bruce. Most criminals opted for nights with the second team. She never could figure out why --.

They heard the click of Jason’s gun and Dick’s voice cut in: “Don’t kill them!”

Jason scoffed. “What’re you gonna do if I do?”

“I… Mari, tell him not to kill them.”

“Jason --,” she began.

“I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“-- is a grown adult who can make his own decisions.”

She could practically feel Jason’s smirk as Dick cursed.

“Damn, why are you so easy to buy? I’ll... um��”

Bruce cut in: “I’ll build a starbucks in the room next to yours.”

Her eyes widened. “Jason, if you pull that trigger I will never talk to you again.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“Try me.”

There was a short silence and then the click of a safety turning back on. Jason mumbled about how it wasn’t fair, along with a lot of other colorful things.

Marinette, however, was grinning.

She slipped into the house and yawned.

Damian looked up from where he was petting Chaton on the couch.

She raised her eyebrows. “Not even gonna detransform?”

He sunk into his hooded jacket. “It’s comfy.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Whatever, give me my cat back.”

“He’s our cat.”

She huffed. “He’s my cat. Give him back.”

“Why don’t we let him choose?”

She scoffed lightly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Not while you’re still Kitten.”

“I told you to call me BatCat!”

“And I told you that I’d rather you beat me to death with a spoon.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and detransformed. They set the cat between the two of them and made cooing noises.

Chaton went to Damian without even sparing her a glance.

“Traitor,” she murmured.

Both of their phones went off and they checked them.

Ah. The Thesmartones chat. It included Riddler and every bat except for Dick

The partners both groaned and opened the chat.

Riddleboye: Can one of you test my new escape room?

Her phone blew up and she glanced at the different chat. Whohastodoriddlersriddlethistime.

Queenbee: Not it

Therealdamianwayne: Not it.

Bruecbrucewayne: not it

Redhoodiewastaken: not it :)

Brucesfavorite: not it

Coffeeismygirlfriendmarinetteismywife: Not it!

Imsurroundedbyidiots: Not it

She groaned when she realized she was the only one who hadn’t done it yet.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: i hate you all

Damian had the audacity to laugh. She sent him a tiny glare and kicked him in the side. He cursed and she was only saved from his wrath by the cat currently resting on his stomach.

She went back to the original chat.

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: im free monday night

Riddleboye: Thanks!

Notsleepingwasaconsciousdecision: its fine see you then

She raised her eyebrows as she stepped into the room and saw Tim awake, clicking away at his laptop. This wasn’t exactly new (far from it, really) but it was still sometimes, somehow, surprising.

She changed into her now well-worn hoodie and crawled into bed. She picked up her newest project, a new costume for Red Hood, and started stitching.

He wrapped an arm around her and drew her close so he could type.

She rested her head against his chest. She stitched in time with his heartbeat.

Her eyes glanced over his screen and she sighed lightly. “No information yet?”

He shook his head. “Nope, still don’t know how to help lower his cortisol levels back to normal. There’s nothing on it.”

“Yeah, it’s almost as if no one else on Earth has Scarecrow’s problem.”

This earned an eye roll. He closed the many tabs on cortisol inhibitors and pulled up a spreadsheet for work. “It’s always ‘reduce stress!’ and ‘take fish oil!’ and other things that we’ve already tried.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing else we can do. We just have to hope that his therapist can help him work through it.” She blinked. “That reminds me: Linda said that you need to see her.”

“But I don’t have to see her again until Wednesday!”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Thurs -- actually…” She checked her phone. “Friday. It’s Friday.”

Tim cursed. “So, that’s what I forgot.”

“What, the week day or the therapy session?”

“Both.”

She rolled her eyes.

He pulled away slightly for a second to grab his drink and then handed her a coffee. “Behold. Just the way you like it.”

A blush rose to her cheeks as she took it from him. “Oh, sweetie, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already making some for myself and yours isn’t hard to make.”

She grinned. “It’s going to be easier to get from now on. I told you I could get Bruce to buy us a coffee shop.”

He huffed and rested his chin atop her head. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent.” She teased. “Anyways, I think I’ve achieved favorite kid status.”

Tim laughed. “Please, bean. You’re not even his favorite daughter. Remember that time he bought Cass an entire police station’s equipment?”

She rolled her eyes and set down her project so she could cross her arms over her chest. “Shut up.”

“Eloquent,” he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

She laughed and tipped her head back to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ve decided I’m getting a divorce.”

He finally set his computer down, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “You wouldn’t. You love me.”

She smiled and reached up, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I do.”

Marinette pulled him down for another kiss.

~~~

Holy shit. It’s over.

Right, I’m going to get sappy for a minute so if you don’t want that then I would like to just thank you for reading! You can stick around if you’d like and if not then I hope you have a good life! <3

Okay, now for the emotions stuff.

For context, I’ve been writing a book for the better part of three years. Writing a book is... hard. Shocking, I know. But, in all seriousness, I’m not even halfway through.

I was getting really burned out on writing, and one of my creator friends suggested I do a ‘break project’. I didn’t want to jump into another book but I wanted to keep writing, so I said ‘fuck it I’ll go back to my roots fanfiction it is’.

I’d been reading a lot of Daminette lately, so I decided to put my own spin on the ship and write a cute fluffy fanfiction of around 30k words. Ha.

But, seriously, this project has been really therapeutic for me. It’s showed me that I can actually write a decent story, that people enjoy my writing, that I don’t need to go back and change things constantly...

This was kind of supposed to be a one-time thing and then I was going to disappear, but I found myself actually enjoying writing fanfiction.

I don’t know.

The plan is now to continue. I have another fic that I’m currently plotting out. It won’t be daily uploads, because each ‘chapter’ is going to be an arc in itself and I don’t want to rush that. I’m not going to give too much of it away, but it’s another mlb x dcu crossover so stick around if you want some of that.

Since I’m still in the planning phase and all the chapters are going to take ages, I’m opening up requests. Feel free to submit a prompt. Or ask me questions if you’d like. I’ll answer in 2-3 business months.

With love,

‘Olivia’

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur @aestheticnpoetic @labschaos @our-preciousss @mochinek0 @eliza-bich @mythogaychic @severelyenchantedwonderland @sashakoi @smolplantmum @bluesimani @tropestropestropes @kitsunebell @keepingupwiththemalfoys @sassakitty @2confused-2doanything @too0bsessedformyowngood @all-mights-asscheeks @demonicbusiness @meg-an-ace @fantasiame @qualitypeacepainter @multplelifes @kokotaru @spicybelladonna @ultimatetornshipper @cute-angi @blu-raydisc

#timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #satisfied #maribat #red robin

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ratsmp4 · 3 years ago

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holding myself accountable .

i would like to start off by saying that no one is required to forgive me for what i've done, both in the past and in recent weeks . depending on how long you've followed me, you may have seen this post from a few months ago . it was poorly worded and written in a moment of anger, where i was not thinking straight . i was in a very dark place when i posted it, and i was encouraged by one of my good friends, who will not be named for their safety . additionally, you may have seen this callout post made by one of my former mutuals . if not, i encourage you to read over it, as it could provide much needed context about what happened .

more about the situation will be included under the cut .

Garrett is the protagonist of the Thief games - a cynical master thief who wishes nothing more than to be left alone to steal in peace, but who unwittingly becomes embroiled in a series of epic events.

Garrett exhibits a strong sense of survival and self-interest. While on the surface Garrett is callous, cynical and sarcastic, with loyalty only to himself, he does seem to have deeper feelings for a few of his contacts: Artemus, the Keeper that recruited and trained him; Basso the Boxman, a fellow thief; Cutty, his fence. In extreme cases this seems to extend to even to past antagonists such as Viktoria, although that may be a result of Garrett's own self-interest.

Garrett also exhibits a strong sense of professional pride as a thief: he usually refuses to kill while on the job, saying that he's a thief, not a murderer,[1] though Constantine and Karras died as a result of Garret's actions only because he was able to sabotage their evil plans. Lotus was a mercy killing, as he begged for death due to the inhumane conditions that Garrett found him in. Other than that, Garrett has not killed any humans in the Thief canon. It is implied Garrett also never steals from his allies or the poor.[Fact Check]

Orphaned, Garrett spent his youth on the streets surviving as a pickpocket and message runner.

One night, he saw Artemus walking on the street as people, 'just passed him by like he wasn't there'. Thinking the man had some valuables, he decided to make a grab. However, he was caught, and Artemus, impressed with his ability to see a Keeper, offered Garrett a new life. Garrett was then recruited into a secret organization known as the Keepers, dedicated to observing and maintaining stability in the City.[2]

Not much is known about Garrett's education with The Keepers, except the fact that he was given initial training in the arts of stealth and subterfuge practiced by the Keepers. But, he found that it was much more profitable to make use of these skills as a thief than to continue working for the Keepers as an agent.[3] He was called "the most promising acolyte" in the Keeper annals, but left around the age of 20 due to his "imbalance." It was brought before the council to deal with him using the Enforcers, but Caduca informed the council that Garrett would be needed in the future.[4]

At some point in time, Garrett is now working as an independent thief in the City, making contacts with people such as Basso the Boxman, Cutty and Farkus Bernard. Garrett's first known large score comes from stealing an expensive scepter from Lord Bafford. After which, he breaks into the Hammerite prison to spring his fence, Cutty (who dies while still in prison). This leads him deep into the old Hammerite catacombs looking for treasure. Shortly after this thugs working for the local Warden, Ramirez, attempt to kill Garrett for non payment of tribute. Garrett turns the tables, escaping and going on to humiliate Ramirez by looting his mansion, even going on to rob the local thieves guild. This brazen display of skill attracts the attention of Viktoria, a somewhat mysterious independent fence. She contracts Garrett to steal a magical sword from the eccentric nobleman, Constantine.

Upon successfully returning from Constantine's bizarre mansion, Viktoria reveals that she and Constantine are old associates who were testing Garrett. Constantine offers Garrett a fortune for the job of retrieving the gemstone known as The Eye. Getting to The Eye means Garrett must venture through the abandoned and walled-off Old Quarter of the City to the old Hammerite Cathedral. A mysterious catastrophe, rumored to involve great fires and many undead, caused the area's abandonment decades ago. Garrett finds the cathedral sealed, but the Eye itself tells him of an old Keeper library hidden nearby. Writings there tell of where the talismans that open the cathedral are hidden and how the Keepers almost revealed themselves in order to assist the Hammerites and the Hand Brotherhood in containing a great evil. The first talisman was found in a place called The Lost City, the ruins of an ancient civilization buried beneath the existing city, its entrance hidden by the Keepers. To get the second talisman, Garrett enters a Hammerite temple in disguise. The third talisman was kept with a brotherhood of Mages. The fourth lay inside Keeper secured caverns. Unbeknownst to Garrett, the Talisman was recovered by the guards of the Opera House above the caves. Successful, he then returns to the cathedral and collects The Eye from amid the many undead, escaping with the help from the ghost of Brother Murus, a long dead Hammerite priest.

Garrett visits Constantine to hand over The Eye and collect his payment. Instead of paying, however, Constantine reveals himself to be the fabled Trickster (aka The Woodsie Lord), the entity worshiped by the Pagans, and Viktoria, his consort.

They bind Garrett in vines and Viktoria plucks out one of his eyes, using it to seemingly activate The Eye stone, and leave him for dead. Some time later two Keepers find and free the unconscious Garrett from the vines. The Keepers then leave Garrett to escape by himself through the caverns beneath Constantine's mansion and amongst some new and strange beasts. Once he reaches the surface Garrett decides the only thing to do is visit the Hammerites and tell them about what has happened in the hopes they would provide assistance. He heads for the temple but discovers that the Trickster's minions have gotten there first. Venturing inside he finds the remaining Hammerites in a hidden sanctuary down in an underground cavern. With stealth being the only hope against the Trickster's army, the Hammerites provide Garrett with a booby-trapped copy of The Eye. Garrett descends into the Trickster's realm, where he finds the Woodsie Lord performing a ceremony with the Eye. Garrett stealthily swaps the Eye for its trapped copy, which then explodes, thus striking down the Trickster as he attempts to finish the ritual.

The coda shows Garrett walking back to town alone through the snow. Life appears to be returning to normal. A Keeper approaches, Artemus. The two converse and The Keeper warns Garrett, telling him of a book he should read, and that he can't run away from life. Close observation reveals Garrett now has a mechanical eye. Garrett rejects the Keeper's 'help' in his life and says to tell the other Keepers that "I'm through. Tell them Garrett is done". He then walks away into the city streets. Artemus answers quietly "I will tell them this: Nothing is changed. All is as it was written. The Trickster is dead. Beware the dawn of the metal age.", foreshadowing the sequel, Thief II: The Metal Age.

Garrett's role in The Metal Age begins innocuously. Garrett provides a favor to an old acquaintance, Basso, helping him rescue his love Jenivere, so that he may retire from thievery and elope. Next Garrett breaks into the dockside warehouses to get some extra cash for rent. It soon becomes clear that the City Watch, lead by the zealous Sheriff Gorman Truart, is waging a war on crime, brutally persecuting thieves and conducting nighttime raids on the poor neighborhoods with the intent of rounding up criminals. Truart stages a sting operation in an attempt to assassinate Garrett, but he escapes by using a Flash Bomb. With the newly strengthened police force making burglary more difficult, Garrett begins to wage a personal war against Truart, attempting to blackmail him into loosening his grip on the City by exposing his corruption. In the process, Garrett acquaints himself with the Mechanist Order, a splinter faction of the weakening Hammerites led by the charismatic Karras, whose robotic security devices have begun to guard the City's wealthiest businesses and residences. In addition, he discovers that the Mechanists are manufacturing some sort of weaponized "Servant," made from a human body and emitting a substance known as Rust Gas, and that Truart has agreed to round up vagrants under false pretenses to be used for the project.

When Garrett confronts Truart, he finds that Truart has been slain by a strange creature. Trying to unravel the conspiracy, Garrett reunites with Viktoria deep in the Maw. Viktoria identifies the Mechanists as the true enemy, and the two form a tentative alliance. The combined skills of Viktoria's pagan operatives and Garrett's stealth abilities reveal that the Mechanists are gifting the Servants to the City's nobility, and that they are working on a top-secret endeavour known as the "Cetus Project." The Cetus Project turns out to be a gigantic submarine, the Cetus Amicus, and that the Mechanists are using it to access the remains of The Lost City in search of ancient artifacts. By interrogating the head of the Cetus Project, Brother Cavador, the pair discover that the Mechanists have recovered an object known as a Cultivator, and that they have already begun mass-producing them and installing them inside of the Masked Servants. While Garrett stakes out the Gervaisius Estate and steals a mask and the prototype Cultivator, Viktoria's agents observe Karras hermetically sealing Soulforge Cathedral. The pair conduct an experiment with the Cultivator, revealing that the Servants could be commanded to release Rust Gas, which would react violently with the plant matter inside of wealthy nobles' gardens, wiping out all life in the city, with Karras safe inside of Soulforge Cathedral.

Viktoria claims that there is no time to spare and proposes a plan: Garrett must gain control of the beacon controlling the Servants and command them to return to Soulforge and trick Karras into releasing the Rust Gas, while Viktoria fills Soulforge Cathedral with plants, to wipe out the Mechanists instead of the city. Garrett claims the plan is "suicide", claiming he will think of a better plan, and re-affirms that he works alone. As he leaves, a Keeper informs Garrett that Viktoria has begun an assault on the Cathedral herself. Garrett hurries to the Cathedral but is too late to save Viktoria as she is attacked by an onslaught of Mechanist forces. Her dying action is to fill Soulforge Cathedral with plants, as promised. Left with no better plan, Garrett proceeds to assemble a new guiding beacon and redirects the Cathedral's signal towers back to the Cathedral itself. The plan succeeds, and Garrett locks the servants inside the Cathedral. When the rust gas is released, Karras is killed and Soulforge Cathedral is left in ruins.

Garrett returns to the Cathedral after the reaction is complete and is met by a Keeper, who explains that the events of The Metal Age transpired exactly as written, and that the prophecies contain even more predictions. Garrett, previously skeptical of the Keepers' mysterious ways, reluctantly requests to know more.

#.text #posts that would be significantly funnier if i put them in a twitlonger instead

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iguessilovebakugou · 4 years ago

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Beautiful || {Dabi/F!Reader} --- Heathers: The Musical -- Cause I’m a stupid fuck who can’t control themselves

Me: *Doesn’t post anything for 2 years*

Also Me when Dabi is on screen at any point ever: 👁👄👁

I’m also throwing this out there because like...I highly doubt anyone still looks at my blog, so I can hide my fucking shame that I’ve been thinking of this idea on and off for almost 2 years now.

Now...spoilers under the cut because I have to explain some things...

I know they just recently announced that Dabi “died” when he was a kid. So I will have to specify that I’m aging him up to be 17, since that would just...make sense?

-- -- -- --

“Venti salted caramel coldbrew, extra foam.”

There was a raid against villains that day. It had been the only thing anyone could talk about.

You had overheard the editors talking about it as they made their coffee. It was a good thing, right, that they were taking the fight to the bad guys? That not all hope had been lost? Most people just wanted an ounce of good news. Some confirmation that the way of things would hold strong - a nice sugar coat to swallow the hard pill. Though, it seemed like all any report worth their salt - you included - could discuss was the fall of society, what people were going to do if...or...when, rather, the heroes were yanked from their spot light and cast down in the dirt with the rest of civilization.

You weren’t a giant fan of them, considering, but you understood the necessity for someone to hold the mantle - someone who guaranteed the safety the mass populous required to keep them from falling to complete anarchy.

Your phone buzzed as a message appeared at the top, blocking the article’s title from view. Your boss, Fumihiro...again...for the 8th time since you left the office.

[INCOMING MSG] :: Where are you right now?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam for...”

Your brows furrowed, your stance shifting from one foot to the other.

[OUTGOING MSG] :: Getting the coffee.

[OUTGOING MSG] :: Why? Want me to get you something?

Heroes. The way of things. Society.

Most people didn’t seem to care too much about it once their phones locked and it was out of their line of sight. When the terrible wasn’t in your face, it was easy to forget that everything hung on a tiny thread that was always threatening to snap. It was hard, you figured, to care about the state of the world when you were more concerned about mundane matters that were pressing in the moment. The rest of the world seems small when you have everything else to pressure you. It was easy to forget.

[INCOMING MSG] :: www.wtxz319.rdio.com/live/93901_error

[INCOMING MSG] :: u need to watch this

You wished you could forget about it. Wished that it hadn’t been looming over your head since...well...

Your thumb hovered over the link, the screen went black and a stream started loading. Some radio podcast? You read the title: ENDEVOUR TAKING ON U-A’S BEST AND BRIGHTEST?! UNLIKELY SON AND FATHER DUO?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam!!”

Your heart leapt up into your throat as your eyes met the kid behind the counter. He paused only a moment before using his fingers to nudge your drink closer to edge.

“Oh. Sor-”

“Have a good one.”

You locked your phone as you shoved it into your back pocket, grabbed your drink and made a beeline towards the door. The streets were busy, given the hour. You had just enough time to get back to the office and finish your article on before the evening - just enough time for an editor to look it over, to do some quick fixes and-

You phone buzzed again, and Fumihiro’s face once again flashed on the screen.

[INCOMING MSG] :: Did you see it?

[INCOMING MSG] :: We need to be the first people on this. I don’t care about what else you were working on. This is more important.

You stopped at the crosswalk, staring at your phone and ignoring the woman who had to move around you with a huff. But...you were so close to getting to the meat of what the Safety Commission was hiding. You were so close getting to the heart of it all and, maybe - just maybe - throwing away some of the uncertainty that was hanging over everyone’s head after All Might’s retirement.

After the weeks you spent staking out police stations, hounding hero agencies, digging through dumpsters for any shred of proof the Pros and Police were hiding something - the favors you had to call in for breadcrumbs and scraps alone?! And just like that, he wanted you to drop it all? For what? Some stupid radio show speculation?

You didn’t hesitate to hit the phone icon in the upper corner, stomping towards the intersection.

“Hey-” You cut Fumi before he could even finish your name.

“What do you mean ‘drop the article’? Do you know-”

“I don’t care! This is bigger!!”

“What’s bigger than-”

“Did you even watch the link I sent you? Every station across Japan is getting hacked and it’s been playing on loop for a few minutes now on a few stations. It’s slowly moving to others now.”

“Fumi what the hell are you talking about!?”

“I, TOUYA TODOROKI, WAS BORN THE ELDEST SON OF ENDEVOUR.”

It...was hard to think for a moment. Like a memory, reaching up from the dirt to grab you, to finally take you down to hell.

That voice.

It felt like he was right in your ear, in your head. It had been so long since he had done it to you, since he...no...not him. He was dead. His father confirmed it. You confirmed it. You knew he was gone and there was no bringing him back and -

“I’VE KILLED OVER 30 INNOCENT PEOPLE UNTIL NOW.”

No. No, no no no no it wasn’t in your head - because if it had been, the sound of blood pounding in your ears wouldn’t be able to mask it so well. You froze, your hands shaking as your breath caught in your throat. It couldn’t be him. I couldn’t, it couldn’t...

“You need to get back to the office - I want you on this. I already have a copy of it in case you can’t screen capture it -”

“I WOULD LIKE TO LET EVERYONE KNOW WHY I’D END UP COMMITING SUCH A HIDEOUS ACT.”

Because you’re a fucking monster.

Someone next to you stopped and looked up. Then another and then another. You knew what they were looking at. Who they were looking at. And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. You couldn’t do it - not again. Not now. Not after so many years of him being dead and buried where he deserved to be.

But he always had a hold on you. Something that drew you to him. And so...you looked up.

And as your phone and drink clattered to your feet, you felt the world stop.

“...Touya?”

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

September 1st, 20xx

Dear Diary - I believe I’m a good person. You know? Like, I believe there’s good in everyone. But um...here we are! First day of our Senior Year and I look around at the kids I’ve known for so long and I can’t help but think to myself - what happened?

You hadn’t really wanted to be friends with the Nori’s. Not really. They were stuck up snobs who made everyone below them miserable. But there was a power to them that everyone respected. You had been taught that knowledge held power. And the Nori’s had power because everyone knew if you double crossed them, your life would be a living fucking hell.

“Ah, Nori and Nori.”

You grimaced into your knees as Nori Ueda vomited for a third time since you had been hiding out in the bathroom. The teacher paused before sighing. “And Nori. Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell? You’re late for class.”

“Nori’s sick! We’re helping her.”

You had given the low price of just sitting at their lunch table - once, no talking would be necessary - in the hopes people would leave you alone. It was a simple fact of life: Where there are teenagers, there are winners and there are losers. And you had spent the majority of your High School career on the low end of the totem pole. You were so low, in fact, it seemed talking to you was all but taboo. Anything other than bullying, shoving into lockers, or calling out unfortunate break outs was strictly forbidden by anyone not wanting to suffer the same fate.

But the Nori’s? Solid Teflon: never bothered. Never harassed like you had been. They had a mystique, a pull, a confidence that couldn’t be matched. And you would have killed to be like them.

Perhaps that why you reached into backpack and yanked out the pad of hall pass papers.

You opened the stall door and slipped out, making your wave over to the group. Nori Ueda wiped her mouth. Nori Makino was leaning against the bathroom counter, focusing on making sure her bright red lipstick was perfectly placed. And Nori Kaneko? She was staring down the teacher, hands on her hips, completely equal and completely ready to start a fight.

The teacher laughed, so sure and so pleased that she had been the one to stumble upon the trio in the bathroom. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. A week’s detention.”

“Uh...ma’am.” Your voice trembled out and reverberated off the tiled wall. It had been louder than you originally intended. Everyone turned quickly to you, only for their attention to be immediately drawn to your outstretched hand you held. “All of us are out on a hall pass...yearbook committee.”

She snatched it from you. For a moment, she simply glanced back between you, the paper, then the Nori’s, then back. After a heavy moment, she nodded. “It looks like you’re all listed.”

Nori Kaneko took it from the teacher, looking it over herself. You tried not to make eye contact as she looked at you. You instead focused on the teacher as she made her way towards the bathroom door. “Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

You heaved a sigh of relief.

“This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?”

You stuttered your name, shrinking under her sharp gaze. “I uh...I crave a boon.”

“What boon?” You weren’t sure if she was simply aggravated you had dared do more than answer the questions she asked or if the annoyance was just a constant manner of speaking for her.

You could forge anything thanks to your quirk - Copy. All you had to do was see someone or something once or twice, focus on it as best as you could and like that, you could be that person. From their mannerisms, their voice, to their penmanship. Its why you stole the pad of hall passes, to skip class whenever you wanted, to have an excuse to be hiding out in the bathroom.

It had worked...sometimes...

You stuttered out your name. You could see the two Nori’s snicker in the background. They had no clue who you were. It was...somewhat insulting. Their “friends” had done their best to make your life a living hell and yet you had flown under their radar.

Your eyes darted between the three of them. Nori Kaneko stared down at you, foot tapping and arms crossed as she took you in. You couldn’t help but feel like a prey animal, stuck in the line of sight of the Apex Predator.

But your mama didn’t raise no quitter. You swallowed and stood up just a bit straighter. “Let me sit with you at lunch, once. No talking necessary. If...I mean, if people think you guys tolerate me, they might leave me alone.”

The laughter was instantaneous. Kaneko looked back to the other two, her laugh light and condescending. The audacity, it said. The gall of you to ask to sit with them, of all people. “Before you answer, I also do permission slips, report cards, and absent notes.”

“What about prescriptions?”

“Shut up, Nori.”

“Sorry, Nori.” Ueda immediately slunk back to the shadows, gaze downcast.

Kaneka stepped forward and you thought for a moment she was going to shove you onto the floor. You braced your feet, mentally preparing yourself for the force of her push...but it never came. She was in front of you for a moment, and then the next, she was at your side. She hummed under her breath and you could feel her eyes trail over your body. Your school uniform a size too big, the bulky cardigan you had worn over it, the scuffed shoes and year old skirt. Your hair was a mess, your face was bare, and you could hear the sound of your knees knocking together in fear.

“For a greasy little nobody,” She started, reaching out a smooth hand and brushing some of your hair back and out of your eyes. “You do have good bone structure.”

Nori Makino perked up, coming over to take a look at you. She took your face in your hand, causing you to tense and try to pull away. For a girl bordering 90 pounds soaking wet, her grip was rather strong. “And a symmetrical face.”

“A...huh?”

“If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I would have matching halves.” She looked back at you, nodding. “That’s very important.”

“Of course,” Ueda added, glaring at you from over Kaneka’s shoulder. “You could stand to lose a few pounds.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to gain some sense of control over the conversation - but like everything, Kaneko had the power. She gripped your shoulders and turned you towards the mirror. You tensed, feeling her arm wrapped around your shoulders. You watched as she tilted her head this way and that before...smirking. “You know...this might be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss and we might have something.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding once she moved away. “I’ll need some blush, Nori, get your brush.”

You were frozen, watching as each item was brought out and laid on the bathroom counter. A new jacket, skirt, perfume, a pallet of...color? You gripped your bag, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.

“Take that thing off - it smells.”

The...thing? You saw the Nori’s staring at you, waiting for you to comply. You glanced down at your cardigan, pausing only a moment to sniff the sleeve. It...wait, did it smell? Would they lie to you? You fumbled with the buttons, sliding it off your shoulders. Makino snatched it out of your hands and before you knew it, it was tossed in the garbage.

“Now, let’s make her beautiful.”

In that moment, you understood what was happening. As Kaneko stepped forward, the smirk on her face, she watched you. This...was an invitation. Into their group. Into the inner sanctum of popularity and the safety it brought. No more bullies, no more humiliation, no more terror.

“Okay?”

“Okay!”

They don’t tell you that being popular is more hell than it’s worth.

You wouldn’t say you and the Nori’s were...friends. It felt more professional than anything else. You had a strict uniform you had to stick to - above what the school required. Any accessory had to be approved by the trio. All meals had to be approved by Ueda - needless to say, the packed lunches your mother made every morning every morning included with a handwritten note never seemed to make the cut. The make up you did every morning never was good enough.

They had high standards, more inline with a sort of...job than actual friendship. In fact, over the past few weeks, it had been hard to tell if the three Nori’s were even friends to begin with. There was definitely a power struggle between Kaneko - the obvious leader - and Ueda - who tried to exert her dominance every chance she could but was shot down by Kaneko. Moniko was harder to figure out, more happy to follow than to lead. She was...nicer than the other two, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was simply because she didn’t want the drama or if she just...simply didn’t understand that what she said held weight beyond being...noises in the air.

Dear Diary - It just seems like our job is being...popular and shit.

“There you are!”

When Kaneko wasn’t around Ueda was hardly as docile. It was hard to tell she had thorns at all when she was standing next to the Cactus that was the head Nori. But any chance she got, she made sure to inform you in less subtle ways that you weren’t welcome among the three of them.

Which was obvious. Your name wasn’t Nori.

You jumped as Ueda’s hand slammed your book shut on your fingers. “Nori wants you in the caf - now.”

Moniko hardly offered you a glance as you flexed the pain from your joints. “Is that so? What for?”

Ueda snorted, “I don’t know. She just said to get your ass there...now.”

You normally punched out for lunch. You sighed, pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up. “How very.”

If the two Nori’s heard your remark, they didn’t say anything. Nor did they relay it to Nori Kaneko when the three of you had reached the cafe.

The Nori table was the nicest table in the entire cafeteria. With the perfect white table cloths, centered exactly in the middle of the room, other kids from the “popular groups” would migrate around it like a port. They would stay for the entire period or would flit about from table to table. And at it’s head, sat Nori Kaneko. She sat with her legs crossed, talking to another student who’s name you couldn’t quite place. You always thought you had been good with names. Turns out, you just didn’t know many people.

“Ah, you’re finally here. Took you long enough.”

When Kaneko had offered the make over and...”admission” into the popular crowd, you had thought maybe you pegged her wrong. Maybe she was just a normal kid, wrapped up in the politics of High School. It didn’t take long for you to realize she was still the same mythic bitch you had thought she had been - you just did things for her now.

“I need you to forge a note - in Souta Ishii’s handwriting.” With a snap of her fingers, the boy she had been talking to reached into his pocket and yanked out a few folded up pieces of paper. You didn’t need to open them to know what they were. But when you did, you couldn’t find yourself surprised at the fact Souta was barely passing most of his classes.

“You’ll need something to write on. Bend over, Nori.”

One day, it would stop shocking you how quickly Ueda would act to Kaneko’s command. You paused, looking to your superior for a moment. “Uh...I could just-”

“You’re not sitting with us.” She answer simply.

“...right.” You took the paper and pen offered by Moniko. You flexed your digits, feeling the flutter under your skin. “What do you want it to say?”

“‘Hey baby girl, I’ve been watching you and thinking about us in the good old days. I hope you can come to my party this weekend. We can talk about us. Love, Souta.’“ She leaned over, watching your hand glide over the paper in barely legible chicken scratch. “Put an XO after the ‘Souta’ too.”

It was gone the second the O was done. She looked over the note again. “Perfect.”

There was a glint in her eye that didn’t...settle well with you. With your quirk, you noticed certain...things about people. Little ticks and tells that everyone has. Ueda scrunched her nose when she didn’t like something - like everyone. Moniko would fidget with her hands when she was nervous - like everyone. And Kaneko would get a little sparkle in her eyes when she was about to ruin someone’s life.

With each fold of the paper, you stomach dropped closer and closer to your feet. “What’s that for, anyway?”

You never really questioned why she did half of what she did. It wasn’t like you could do anything to stop it. “You know how Souta used to hang out with Arisu Nomaru?”

Of course you did. You considered Arisu a friend - a good one. She was the really only nice person at this school. Of course, hanging out with the Nori’s meant that quality time with Arisu was...well, all but non existent at that point. But she assured you, through texts, that everything was fine. It was exciting! That maybe, she could join you and the Nori’s for lunch one day. It wasn’t possible, of course. You never even bothered to broach the subject to the three. Arisu was never going to be in the popular crowd and would be stuck watching them from a distance.

The only other constant in Arisu’s life - aside from her kindness and her exile from popularity - was the undying love she had for Souta Ishii. Ever since...

“We all hung out with Arisu. In kindergarten.”

Kaneko scoffed, looking up at you from under perfect lashes. “Well, we didn’t all kiss her on the soccer field.”

You had to fight your body’s desire to snatch the paper out of Nori’s hand.

Monika gagged next to you. “Oh my god! I forgot Souta kissed Arisu Nomaru. It was disgusting!!”

It took everything you had not to hit her. She met your glare with cool indifference, adding a laugh for good measure.

“Souta! Just the man I wanted to see!”

Souta was a...handsome man to say the least. You didn’t blame Arisu for having the crush she had on him, not by any means. But what he had in looks, he lacked in anything worthy of personality - aside from just being a huge dick. And where there was a Souta there was Jun Goto. His best friend. He was the smartest one out of his group of friends.

Which amounted as much as being the tallest dwarf, but hey - credit where credit was due. They were both smart enough to know to come when a Nori called you - no questions asked. And in a flash, the two pulled themselves up and made a beeline for the table - not after giggling to themselves first.

“Be a sweetie and give this note to Arisu Nomaru for me.”

Dread immediately filled your stomach. “What? No!”

“What the hell are you talking to Arisu for?” Jun demanded, reaching for the note.

“Don’t read it! She was having a heavy flow, and wanted some advice from Gyno.”

“That’s fucking disgusting!” You would have thought the boy had been burned with the way he flicked the paper onto the table, back away and retreat to the table he had come from.

“Yeah, I’ll take that.” You snatched the note up, gripping it tightly in your hand.

It had been a while since anyone had stared at you with such venom. If looks could kill, Kaneko would have you dead to rights. Her eyes darkened as she glared at you, hands slowly moving to her hips.

But you weren’t going to allow yourself to back down. Not over this. This was too much. “Arisu has had a crush on Souta for 13 years. This...” You waved the note. “This would kill her.”

It was quiet for a moment - and in that moment, you realized you made the biggest mistake of your fucking life. Nori smiled, stepping forward with a soft chuckle. “I didn’t realize we had a problem.”

“We’re not but-”

“Are we going to have a problem?”

You faltered for a moment.

“No, I just-”

“So you have a bone to pick.”

“No, Nori I just think you’re bigger than-”

“You know, when I dragged you out of the dredges of inferiority, I was shocked how far you would go.”

Before you knew it, she had succeeded in pushing you down onto the bench. Your elbow slammed into the top, causing you to cry out. Immediately, all eyes were on you. “So you wanna tell me, why now, are you pulling on my dick?”

“Nori! I’m not trying to argue with you! Just doing this-”

“I know!” She snatched the note from your hands. “It will ruin her. That’s the fucking point.” She offered the note to Ueda, who happily took it. You watched helplessly as she skipped back over to Souta. While he didn’t seem too pleased to be the one to deliver the note, he begrudgingly got up from his spot and headed to the corner of the cafeteria.

"You still have a lot to learn about how things work around here." You swallowed, digging your nails into the palm of you hand. "This whole school is my own personal candy store. I do what I want, when I want."

You watched as he slammed a fist on the table, causing Arisu to jump. She froze, stuttered, and then almost dropped the note when he tossed it to her. Your heart hammered - maybe if you got there fast enough, you could stop her from reading it. You could distract her and -

You were forced back down in your spot and perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “You got a good thing going here,” Kaneko stated, very matter of factly. “You could join the team, or you could bitch and moan.” You winced when her nails dug deeper into your skin. “But if you test me one more time, you will end up just. Like. Her."

Ueda grinned, an ugly, spiteful thing. "Welcome to our Candy-"

"Shut up, Nori!" All three of you flinched as your leader stood. Fixing her skirt, she offered you a sweet smile that made your stomach roll. "We'll see you after school."

They left you in that spot for a long time, staring at your hands. It wasn’t until you felt a tap on your shoulder that you finally looked up. And there above you was Arisu. She grinned and offered you the note. “Look! Look what Souta wrote me! He invited me to his party this weekend.”

You stared at the paper, then back up at her. You tried to smile - though it didn’t look like she noticed. “This proves he’s been thinking about me!”

She...seemed happy. And you knew in this school that happiness was hard to come by. Especially with people like Nori’s. You opened your mouth, before closing it again. You stared at that letter, at the handwriting that perfectly matched the papers left on the table. You could tell her, warn her it was a prank. Just...break her heart and tell her Souta wanted nothing to do with her.

“...color me stoked!” You grinned.

You were happy when she left. With a heavy sigh, you buried your face in your hands and ignored the bell above your head. You listened to the shuffling of your peers as they made their way towards the doors.

What the hell were you doing? What the fuck did you just do? Arisu had always been a good friend to you and you threw her under the bus? For what? Popularity? Safety?

“You shouldn’t have bowed down to those dogs. They’ll eat that girl alive.”

You had grown used to most voices, labeling them by people who was more likely to hit you or simply ignore your presence entirely.

But his voice? You had never heard that voice before. It was pleasant in it’s own way - low, guttural, and deceptively indifferent to the advice he was giving you. You sat up, turning to look over your shoulder. Your eyes trailed up to stark white hair. Bright blue eyes stared down at you, hands in his pockets. Your breath caught in your chest and your mind scrambled for a response. “I’m...I’m sorry, what?”

He watched you for a moment. Sizing you up. “Look,” He continued, “You clearly have a soul. You just need to work a little harder to keep it clean.” With a final shrug, he turned on his heel and made his way for the door. "We're all marked for evil."

Did...did he just...quote at you? It took you a moment for your mind to catch up to what he said. “Okay, don’t just quote Baudelaire at me and walk away. Excuse me?”

You scrambled to your feet. He stopped and turned to look at you. He didn’t move to say anything else however, leaving you in charge of continuing the conversation. You looked him over, took in his long, lanky form, the mess of white hair, they...very pretty eyes. You cleared your throat and motioned to him. “I...uh...I didn’t catch your name.”

He waited a moment before shrugging. “That’s cause I didn’t throw it.”

You watched him turn back around and make his way towards the door, mouth hanging down to your chest. It didn’t take long for you to realize how hot your cheeks were burning, how fast your heart was racing. You couldn’t help as your lips broke out into a smile.

You swore he stole another gaze at you him slip out into the hall.

So yeah. I’ll edit this later. Promise.

How did everyone enjoy their holiday season?

62 notes · View notes

selene-tempest · 3 years ago

Text

It’s our Kayo’s birthday, and to celebrate I dragged her up to Five to participate in another Live From Five.

Selene: Aahhh, we're back! Look at this! John, look, look how long it's been since we last broadcast.

John: Why break the streak now, I'm sure we can go another few months…

S: Hush your mouth, we've got a job to do. The world is still chaotic, Gordon still hasn't found the source of that smell in the hangars that he swears wasn't to do with him but is starting to permeate the house, and it's just nice to get away from it all for a bit. Go on, admit it.

J: I admit nothing, we could have just hung out up here, watched some movies, eaten some snacks, took some time to properly relax, all alone…think about it.

S: That…is very tempting, do we still have that bottle of mass-

Kayo: *loudly clears her throat*

S: Oh, sorry, forgot you were here for a second, you're like a ninja cat that had its bell taken away.

K: I'm not sure how to respond to that.

J: She means you're quiet and that she's sorry that she started to bring up the Knotty But Nice blackcurrant-

S: I think that's enough explanation, babe.

K: *grins evilly settling herself more comfortably in her chair* I don't know, I think I need to know more about this.

S: No, you really don't.

K: But I might be wanting to purchase some for myself.

J: I think I still have the link somewhere…*pulls out his phone*

S: *covers his screen with her hand* Can we just get on with this, please?

J: *smiles innocently* What's the rush? Normally you like to chat for hours and tell me off for trying to hurry things along.

S: Because your idea of hurrying things along is to skip the questions entirely.

J: A foolproof method, I've found.

S: *gives him a squinty eyed warning look and turns back to the camera lense of EOS and its slowly blinking light* Hello, and welcome back to Live From Five, the monthly-

J: Sometimes.

S:- the sometimes monthly, but more at random times, podcast where I force my darling husband to sit down with me and talk to you all about the goings on of International Rescue and the other organisations that help keep the world safe.

J: When the world hasn't slowed down because of a pandemic that is.

S: Ordinarily, yes. But now is the time when we should all do our bit to make life a little more bearable and so we have another of the team ready and willing to answer your most burning questions.

K: I wouldn't say willing exactly.

J: You'll soon learn that resistance is futile, she's like a steamroller-

S: Excuse me, sir!

J: A pretty steamroller.

S: That's better.

K: I love how she didn't even try to deny it.

S: *shrugs*

J: She can't argue the truth and we made vows never to lie to each other.

K: So you finally told her that you don't like those new tie-dye leggings of hers? The ones you said made her butt look like a Rorschach test?

S: EXCUSE ME, SIR!! You said they looked good with that black shirt I stole off Scott!

J: The shirt hides your butt.

S: First my beloved T-shirt, now my leggings? Is there anything in my wardrobe that you actually like? Or should I throw it all away and just go about naked? Would that please you? *throws hands up in frustration*

J: *quirks an eyebrow*

S: *scowls at him* We’re done with this conversation.

J: *scowls at Kayo* You just had to go there.

K: What? You said you never lie to her. I was only asking.

J: What's the first question the viewers sent in? *scrolls frantically on his tablet* Paul asks if your name is short for Knockout.

K: Yes, it is.

S: *still scowling, has now advanced to sulkily crossed arms too*

J: Care to elaborate a bit so she doesn't smack me?

K: Elaborate how?

J: Maybe how you got the name?

K: *sighs* I was ten years old, so was Gordon, there was a sparring match, his face got in the way of my fist.

J: You aimed at it.

K: He was supposed to duck and deflect it, that was the point of training and sparring.

S: Is that why he can only breathe out of one nostril?

K: Yes.

J: Kath asks, how does it feel to be a strong female role model?

K: I don't really see myself that way, at least I never intended to be one. But, I suppose that if young people want someone to look up to I'm glad that I can show them the truth about a few things and hopefully inspire them to try things for themselves.

J: Such as?

K: I'm proof that you don't have to be the biggest or the strongest on the team to make a difference. I might not be as actively involved in rescues like the rest of you are but I have my area of expertise and that's just as good. People shouldn't try to be someone they aren't or to match up to others, being yourself is just as good. You can be strong and successful without compromising who you really are. You don't have to compete with the rest of the world, as long as you can honestly say you're doing your best. We all have different skills and different weaknesses, none are more important than the other. Life shouldn't be a competition, it should be about being the best person you can be. Sure you're going to mess up sometimes but that's how you learn and grow. Oh, and that girls are just as good as boys.

*S & J just staring at her*

K: What? I can be deep. I do have some insightful things to say now and then, you know.

S: Oh, we know, we never doubted that.

J: We just doubted you'd ever actually say them.

S: *swats at him with the back of her hand*

J: Hey! No hitting.

K: Are there any more questions or can I make a break for it in the space elevator?

S: Of course there are more. *steals his tablet off his lap* Yoink. Next question. Isabelle asks if your training includes other sports or activities other than martial arts?

K: Yes.

S: *gives her a look that says she’s trying her patience*

K: *rolls her eyes* I was not told that this interview process would be so intrusive, I’m head of security and this is not very secretive.

S: It’s a question about your training, how can that be a bad thing?

K: Is that another question on the list?

S: Don’t get cute, just answer the training one.

K: I used to be on a Parkour team at university, I found that I had a natural affinity for it and I still practice it now and then, just basic wall and rooftop runs, that sort of thing. I also do some weight and strength training, like pull-ups and planks on objects, you never know what you might run into in the field and we should always be prepared.

J: Natural affinity for it. I think you’re forgetting one thing you used to do that you haven’t mentioned…

K: *narrows her eyes dangerously at him* Don’t you dare.

S: What? What am I missing? Share with the class.

K: *huffs, admitting defeat* I used to do gymnastics when I was younger, lots of tumbling and balance work mostly, which yes *glares a pointed look at John* did contribute to my affinity to Parkour.

J: *smiles evilly* There were ribbons involved-

K: *lunges for him*

J: *drags wife onto his lap to use as a human shield* and twirling!

S: *attempts a very crap version of defensive karate hands* I can wax on and wax off, don’t make me use it. *demonstrates, protecting her man even though he is an ass who is laughing behind the safety of her back*

K: You have to sleep some time, Tracy.

J: I’m protected then too. *peeks over her shoulder to look at Kayo, very tempted to stick out his tongue* What’s the next question, love?

K: I don’t think I want to answer anymore. *crosses her arms defiantly*

S: *continues regardless* Emma asks what is it like living with Five Tracy brothers and who is the biggest pain in the butt?

K: John.

J: Hey!

S: Come on, you don’t mean that. No way is he more annoying and hard to live with than Gordon or Scott. No way in hell.

J: Thanks for the support.

S: You all have your moments, I’m not gonna lie. *pats his hand* Come on, Kay, just give me a decent answer, please. Show these boys how it’s really done, they have just been complete nightmares and we might have Brains next.

J: Wait, we what?

S: Have Brains next, by popular demand. It’ll be fine.

J: Have you met Brains?

S: *deadpans* On a number of occasions, yes.

J: So you know that he likes the spotlight even less than I do, preferring to hide away in his lab and never see the light of day?

S: You make him sound like Victor Frankenstein. Which would definitely make the place more interesting.

K: *sits quietly looking smug, they have once again forgotten her*

J: I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. Kayo, what’s it like living with us all?

K: Well, that peace lasted a long time. *straightens from her slouch* It’s noisy, chaotic, and sometimes a little overwhelming.

J: *nods along, and they wonder why he spends so much time in space*

K: You can’t keep anything to yourself. Food, drinks, snacks, magazines, toiletries, everything is up for grabs as far as they are concerned.

S: Truth. But they do have some good points.

K: Yes, while it’s sometimes annoying, it’s not all that bad. When you’re having a bad day there is always someone there to talk to if you’re so inclined. You’re never alone and while that’s not always a positive thing, it means that there is always someone there for you when you need them most, you never feel lonely. I know that, whatever happens, there is someone there that has my back.

S: And who is the most annoying?

K: Scott, closely followed by Gordon.

J: Why Scott?

K: Because he’s too up in my business. He always wants to know where I am and what I’m doing.

S: That’s because he cares.

J: I always know where you are too.

K: But you don’t ask me about it and I don’t tell you, we’ve got an understanding. Scott also knows almost all of my snack hiding places and raids them when he’s annoyed with me, which is often. I have nothing left but a couple of Japanese kit-kat bars left, and only because he doesn't like Lychee flavour.

S: Sounds reasonable. He does that to me too, I think he’s just looking for any excuse to eat our snacks.

J: Why do you think I keep all mine up here?

S: Because you’re a genius?

J: Yes.

S: Ready for another question?

K: Do I have a choice?

S: Well, yeah, I mean, you can always say no or refuse to answer one.

J: We’ll let you have one veto.

K: That’s appreciated. Fine, continue.

J: *eyes scan the list* Let's keep it simple, Lauren asks where your dad is?

K: He’s at home *shrugs* He said he was fed up with constantly being on guard and suspicious all the time and that it wasn’t doing his blood pressure any good. So, he retired, moving permanently to his childhood family home so that he could concentrate on his first loves of gardening and cooking. The boys despaired the day he left and they realised they only had Grandma’s cooking to come home to.

S: That brings us nicely to one of Rebecca’s questions. She says, and I quote ‘Spill the beans, is Grandma’s cooking really that bad’?

J & K together: Yes.

S: Elaborate please.

J: * Looks nervously at the camera, he knew from experience (so did Scott) that Grandma had ears like a bat when her culinary skills were being disparaged*

K: *cares not if she gets caught, continues confidently* She is easily distracted, so loses track of her timings and often tries to compensate. Like if she forgets to put the food in she’ll turn up the heat as far as it will go and cook it for a shorter time. Which leads to it being burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. But sometimes she does it the other way around, where she puts it in too soon and it starts to burn so she turns it off and it goes cold, so it's burnt and cold.

J: *watches impasively as one would a stupid person about to make a very big mistake, like touch a hot plate without oven mitts*

K: She loves spices too, hates bland food and thinks that everything needs to be full of flavour. But she’s not too concerned by the amounts the recipe, if she even uses one, calls for. Much like with heat, she thinks more is preferable. Recipes are not something she’s good at following, she tends to just scan it and trust she’ll remember it when she really won’t.

J: Overconfidence is a family trait.

S: At least she tries, it’s how she shows her love.

K: I’d prefer she showed it with take out, but OK.

S: Sounding a little ungrateful there, Kay.

K: You haven’t lived with it for as long as we have.

S: Next question, before we accidentally start an Island kitchen revolution. Robyn asks ‘ before you got your own ship, who gave you the most rides or how did you get about’?

K: Probably Alan, I tended to have to go along to babysit him a lot at first and I’d make him drop me off on the way home. That or Scott, I couldn’t handle too much of Virgil’s flying.

S: She also asks who was the best pilot from a passenger's perspective.

K: For skill level, probably Alan, but in general, Scott. Alan is technically brilliant, as is Scott, but Alan was under far more restrictions, whereas Scott had less and is more to my tastes.

J: You mean he’s as reckless a pilot as you are and you kept complaining that Virgil was too slow and was boring to ride with.

K: He was and still is. His craft is far too slow, nowhere near as slow as Four, which feels like it’s crawling, but still slow, and he drives like an old lady. Actually, scratch that, Grandma drives faster.

S: Well then, I mean, I’d actually prefer to ride with Virg but...

K: Is that all?

S: *shakes her head and nudges John*

J: *checks the list* Rebecca also asked how you unwind after a tough mission.

K: How does any woman unwind? I quite enjoy a hot bath and a magazine, maybe watching a few shows in bed after. I also like to listen to some soothing music and eat some ice cream.

*S & J look blankly at her*

K: What?

J: *clears his throat* Nothing.

K: *glares at them*

S: *shifts uncomfortably* We just...we just thought that you would do something a little less…

K: Girly? I am a woman you know.

S: I was going to go with depressed dumpee in a Rom Com, but OK.

J: *snorts out a laugh, then immediately stops when Kayo shoots a warning glare at him*

K: I didn’t have to come here, you know, especially not to be insulted.

S: You’re right, I’m sorry.

J: That was totally my bad *holds his hands up in surrender*

K: *eyes flick to the tablet and she waves a hand to indicate for them to continue*

S: Isabelle wants to know if there is anything you wish you had more time to do or something you want to learn?

K: *thinks about it for a moment or two* That’s actually not a bad question. I wish I had more time to travel.

S: You go all over the world.

K: I know, but that’s for business, not for pleasure. I never get to sight see or experience any of the culture. I’d like to visit some of the places that are significant to my family history, the land of my ancestors, just like Father did when he was younger. I’d like to know more about my roots. As for something I want to learn *pauses to think some more* cooking. *Nods firmly*

S: Cooking?

K: Yes, cooking. Father is a good cook and I’d like to have the time to spend with him and learn some of his favourite traditional dishes, like he used to make when I was a little girl. Family recipes always have little tweaks that you don’t find online or in recipe books, every family is different and they often aren’t written down, I’d like to learn some of them.

J: I’m sure we’d all love for you to learn too, so we could eat them, just to test them for you, obviously.

K: Obviously.

J: You know, to be helpful.

K: Of course.

S: *side whispers* She doesn’t sound like she believes you, babe.

J: *side whispers back* She never does.

K: I can hear you, you know.

S: Two questions left!

K: Good.

J: Does that mean you won’t be allowing a quick fire round?

K: Whose questions are they?

S: Mine, one minute on the clock, one word answers, you say the first thing that comes into your head.

K: I’ll think about it.

S: OK then. *checks the list* Steeve asks who spends the longest in the bathroom getting rescue ready?

K: Virgil.

*S & J stay silent*

K: He’ll say it’s not him, he’ll point the finger at Scott, but we all know the truth.

S: *nods sagely*

K: Scott likes his hair super shiny, but Virgil likes his super high. So he will be there blow drying for up to an hour.

J: *nods* I watched him once. Brush it out, product, lift it up, blow dry, more product, blow dry, more product, blow dry again, smooth the outside, more product, final blow dry then pat it into place. I got bored just watching him.

K: Says the man who’s got hair like that. *points at John’s front curl*

J: Hey! This is mostly natural. All I use is a little gravity paste to hold it in place so it doesn’t flop about everywhere. I’m enhancing the style, not creating a whole new one.

K: *grins triumphantly that she managed to get him to defend his hair*

S: Your hair is perfect, my love.

J: *self consciously smooths his hair, realises what he’s doing and stops, looking annoyed at himself* What’s the last question? *yanks the tablet closer, scans the list, then freezes*

K: Well, get on with it.

J: *swallows* I really don’t think we need to do any more, do we? *turns the screen off*

S: What do you mean? We can’t just not read out a question that someone took the time to send in…* takes the tablet* oh.

K: *rolls her eyes* Just read it out.

S: *slides a side eye glance at John who shrugs back, then nudges her to continue* Steven asks who do you secretly have a crush on?

K: *one eyebrow lifts*

J: You can use your veto for this.

K: No, I can answer. There might be someone that doesn’t annoy me as much as everyone else in the world does. He’s good at his job, he’s handsome and we get on very well, we have things in common and we are comfortable enough to tease each other and enjoy a friendship that has the potential to be more but that we’re happy with either way. *shrugs* That’s all I’m going to say.

S: That could literally be anyone.

K: Yep *buffs her nails on her top and stretches a hand out to examine them*

S: Well, that was somewhat enlightening. I think the listeners have definitely gotten to know you a little better.

K: Then I have to kill them.

S: Ya wha?

K: I’m joking.

S: I knew that.

J: Did you really, though?

S: I had high hopes she was joking, OK?

K: Is that it? Can I go now?

J: Unless you’ve decided if you want to answer her quick fire questions.

K: *sighs* She’s going to pout at me if I don’t, isn’t she?

J: Highly likely, but I didn’t think that sort of thing affected you.

K: I can get annoyed as much as the next person.

S: *mutters under her breath* Sometimes more.

K: Fine, ask your silly questions.

S: *grins and sits up straighter* OK, remember the rules, say the first thing that pops into your head, one word answers, feel free to say skip. Babe, time me.

J: *sets a timer* And...go.

S: Favourite colour?

K: Black.

S: On a scale of one to ten how good are you at keeping secrets?

K: Eleven.

S: Do you snore?

K: No.

J: *snorts out a laugh* Forty seconds

S: Texting or Talking?

K: Texting.

S: Nickname your parents used to call you?

K: Tin-Tin.

J: Twenty seconds.

S: If you could travel back in time, what time period would you go to?

K: World War Two.

J: Ten seconds.

S: If you were an ice cream flavour what would you be?

K: Chilli Chocolate.

S: Are rats cu-

J:Time

S: I was going to ask if rats are cute.

J: We are not getting another rat, Alan already has Fuzz Aldrin. Besides, I already said no to the hamster.

S: But if Kayo got one I could help look after him and cuddle him and stuff.

J: No.

K: Yes.

J: Pardon?

K: Rats are cute.

S: Yessssss!

K: *smirks*

J: I think we’re done here.

K: Finally.

S: You’re both as bad as each other, I swear.

J: Yet you continue to force this ordeal upon me.

S: Yep. *turns back to the camera* That’s it from us here on Five. Thanks for tuning in. Next time we’ll have the little seen in the wild creature known only as the Brains.

K: *sniggers* He’ll love that.

J: EOS, cut feed.

If you want to read the rest you can find them here on A03.

#kayo kyrano #John Tracy #selene tempest #live from five #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction

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herohotline · 5 years ago

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Can I please have a Shigaraki who's dating a male s/o that's part of the LoV but has to break it off because of All For One disapproving (either bc he's homophobic or thinks the s/o is too moral or doesn't want Shigaraki to be distracted from his goal)? Maybe with the s/o trying to leave bc they don't want to get Tomura in any trouble while Shigaraki insists that he should stay??? Sorry if it's too specific

A/N: yes yes yes! I hope that I wrote this well- I’m not sure how I feel abt it just yet, so I suppose the notes will tell me if it’s good or not! Might rewrite and try again if it doesn’t hit. It’s not exactly what you requested, i’ll admit, but it has some elements??? So if I have to rewrite it one day then that’s okay jfdhgjg

— — —

What made you fall in love with a man like Shigaraki? On the outside, he was villainous, cold, immature, and harsh. A man like Shigaraki fights very hard to be in control and not let anyone come close to him- but things have a tendency to happen naturally over working with each other over a long period of time.

Though he doesn’t show it often, he cares for the entire League. It might be minimal, and his way of caring for others might be a little twisted and considered abnormal, but Shigaraki has his own way of doing a lot of things. And even if it wasn’t the way that people normally loved friends and family- at least he still cared for the League at all.

And he cared for you, too.

It was hard to tell at first, especially since your relationship started out rocky. You weren’t the most evil type- you had fallen into the villain category over reasons of ‘justice’ rather than ‘revenge’ or even just a thirst for blood. You didn’t like the feeling or thought of hurting innocent people- and that’s why you didn’t attack the innocent.

You helped the League when you felt it was right to do so. You wanted justice- you wanted society to change and be a more fair, even world for everyone to live in. And if this was the way to do it… then this is the way you would do it. But only when your heart found it just to do so.

Shigaraki was disgusted by you at the start. The fact that you sounded like a typical, roundabout hero from around the block made him despise you. But his feelings about you were trivial since All for One thought you were essential to their cause because of your tactical thinking and useful quirk. Shigaraki’s feelings about you were negatively intense, but nothing that would make you run away.

Though he hated you, you never hated Shigaraki. You could tell right after meeting the League leader that this man- this boy- was wildly manipulated and truly naive. He was being used. You knew you couldn’t change this- you couldn’t help him, not with the way things are right now. But the least you could do was treat him fairly even when he spit in your direction.

Eventually, he asked with an angry tone why you didn’t lash out on him. Why were you always so calm? Why won’t you at least fight back?

You told him that you weren’t here to make more enemies than you needed to. You said that you didn’t want to be enemies with him, but allies.

He rolled his eyes at your answer, saying that you were already allies, whether he liked it or not. But you noticed how he changed his tune around you after that. The two of you became closer from everything you experienced in the League- all the missions, all the close calls, all the trials and tribulations.

It was a rush of pure adrenaline after a successful raid against heroes that made you kiss Shigaraki for the first time- and you were lucky this even worked, considering his face was usually covered by dead hands. He was, of course, caught off guard and somehow offended that you would do such a thing. The kiss only lasted a second before he jumped away from you and cursed at you for being disgusting and disrespectful to your leader.

Such a harsh rejection would have discouraged you if you didn’t already know how Shigaraki worked. You knew, that once he had time to let what you did sink in, he’d either reject you normally or hopefully come and accept your advances.

Which- he sort of did. Quietly at night, he sneaked into your room, and basically told you he had no idea what your intentions were- what his intentions were. He didn’t know a thing about romance, especially anything about romance with another man, and he doesn’t like not knowing things.

(This was a summary of what he said to you- the actual version of it had a lot more petty insults, sarcastic comments, and harsh words mixed in)

That same night, in order to help him understand, you told him your feelings for him and how to kiss someone. You taught him everything you could about what love and affection feels like- what it looks like. And over the course of that night, the two of you secretly grew closer.

It took a few months until Shigaraki eventually stopped caring about the anxiety of being with another person. After kissing you, loving you, and feeling at least somewhat confident in your relationship, it wasn’t really a secret from the League anymore.

The League reacted in an expected way. No one cared that the two of you were men- some of them had already figured out you were together, and others just didn’t care (also known as Dabi). After that, it was a common sight to see the two of you kissing, your hand wrapped around Shigaraki, or having him sit on your lap. Shigaraki really could care less about being worried over PDA- he was too touch starved to care, really. Not like you minded at all- you were just happy to be with him and provide your leader and lover with comfort and a stable person to rely on.

Throughout your relationship, it wasn’t uncommon for you to try and pry things from him if he was willing. It took a lot of coaxing, a lot of convincing, but eventually, he began to open up. And you loved him even more for it.

One evening after you had slept together, you got into the topic of his hands that he wore. “Why do you wear them?” You asked. It was a simple enough question.

“Because I have to,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Because… Because I have to,” he said again, as if confused that wasn’t a good enough answer. As you often did, you tried to elaborate for him to get him to understand what you meant.

“Well… how do they make you feel, when you wear them? What do they do?”

Surprisingly, Shigaraki actually thinks about his answer as he taps his fingers on your naked chest. “…They keep my mind dark. Focused. They remind me of what I’ve done, and what I need to do. They ground me… to the past.”

You hum at his answer, one of your hands moving to stroke and play with his strands of light colored hair. “…And how do you feel without them?”

“Like I can breathe,” he says much quicker this time. “Like I can see what’s right in front of me. Without the hands… I don’t feel as heavy.”

“And isn’t that better?” You ask him, quietly in his ear as you look into his eyes. “Isn’t this better?”

After that night, he begins to wear the hands around his face, throat, and arms less and less. He begins to think clearly like he couldn’t before- it’s almost as if the longer he lives without them, the more he becomes a different kind of person. Granted, he’s more anxious than before, but he’s also more empathetic, considerate, and puts more time and thought into his plans with the League instead of acting hasty and impatient.

And this development doesn’t go unnoticed by All for One.

All For One… Technically, you were hired by him, and technically, you were a villain. But you never liked that man. He seemed to so easily manipulate those around him, including Shigaraki, and it was clear that he was evil to his very core.

He did not fight heroes and cause chaos for anything other than the sake of doing it. He didn’t do it for a sense of justice, personal gain, revenge…

All for One loved to create chaos and he loved to be in the eye of the storm, plain and simple.

And the fact that you were ruining his plans, ruining his problem child who was doing all the dirty work for him- the fact that you were corrupting his broken mind with morals and a sense of ease- well, All for One didn’t like that at all.

All for One, though, wasn’t one for simply showing up at the bar you hid out in, giving out orders. He worked a bit more slyly than that, of course. So, instead, he had a private conference over his little television and intercom with Shigaraki when no one else was around.

When you weren’t around.

“How are things going? I’ve noticed you haven’t made any moves against the heroes recently…” His voice is smooth and even, his broken face shadowed and hidden by the darkness in the room. “Is there anything else you need?” He offers.

Shigaraki stares at the screen in front of him clearly. He isn’t wearing the hands of past regrets like usual- and it gives him an uneasy feeling not to wear them in front of his master. “No, things are running smoothly, for once. We’re just trying to figure out the best way to-“

“We?” All for One interrupts. “Have you started feeling more comfortable with your teammates now? You used to be so stubborn about them…” He chuckles, a dry and halfhearted chuckle that makes Shigaraki inhale shakily.

“They’ve been doing their job,” he says. “It’s better now that we’re all working together. I didn’t like it, but I’ve realized I can’t accomplish our goal all by myself. I need to work harder than that.”

All for One nods. “And how did you come to realize this?”

“Does it matter?” Shigaraki deflects, and his eyes fall away from the screen.

“Will you not answer my question?”

“…My teammates helped me realize this, master. I’m sorry.” The young man frowns as he sees from the minimal light on All for One’s side that his lips break into a grin.

“…___. That is who you mean.” He says knowingly. Shigaraki quickly opens his mouth but his master holds up his hand, making him silent. “I have seen what he’s been doing to you. I think it’s time we had a discussion about our dear ___.”

A cold feeling crawls up Shigaraki’s back, and suddenly he wishes he had his hands- they would cover his face, hide the fact that he’s almost scared right now. But why should he be scared? There’s no reason. How irrational. “What is there to discuss? He’s a good member.”

“Surely, you think so. But he has been corrupting you, young boy. I think it’s time we considered… letting go of him.”

Killing him.

There’s a sense of panic filling Shigaraki as he realizes this, but he can’t show it to All for One. He knows that wouldn’t be wise- he can’t speak too quickly, he can’t act too emotionally. As evenly as he can, he tries to object. “I can’t be so easily corrupted, master. We still need his powers, we can’t-“

“No, I think you can, Tomura.” All for One’s voice raises for the first time during the entire call. It’s minuscule, but Shigaraki hears it. “He has been corrupting you with his mind and his body. He’s been using you, and I cannot allow such things to happen to you. You are too important, Tomura- so you must dispose of him.” The man sighs deeply at Shigaraki’s silence, slowly continuing with a deeper tone. “I am worried for you, Tomura. I only want what is best for you.”

…Does he?

Shigaraki frowns. “Yes, master. I know- I just need to think it over.” He bows slightly at the screen. “I’ll talk to you again soon.”

For the first time, Shigaraki ends the call first, and that action alone has him feel a sense of empowerment.

If you really were changing him, Shigaraki has a feeling that it’s probably for the better. Besides… This is his organization. All for One said as much- he can do as he pleases.

And that means you’re not going anywhere . Not while he can do something about it.

——

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Tomura,” You look up at Shigaraki as you lie on your bed. There’s a comic book in your hands as you hold it over your head, your hair messy and knotted from lying on the pillows. Shigaraki observes you silently from your doorway until he walks toward you, toeing off his sneakers before he falls onto your bed and next to you.

You laugh as he tosses and turns until he’s got his head on your chest, looking up at the comic you’re holding. His hands are carefully placed around you in fists, as they usually are when he wants to cuddle with you. “What’s up, Tomura?” You nuzzle your cheek against his shaggy hair and flip a page in your comic.

Shigaraki realizes that he likes it when you say his first name. He was hesitant and felt odd letting you know it at first, and letting you even say it was another hurdle in itself. But after talking with All for One- he likes how you say his name much more than how his master does.

“…Nothing.” He says. “…Where’d you get this?”

“The comic? Twice snatched it for me when him and Toga were raiding for supplies nearby. It was sweet of him to think of me, but I think you’ll like it too.” You look down at him as much as you can, but the position is a little awkward and you can only barely meet his eyes. “Want me to start from the beginning?”

“No,” Shigaraki says and looks back up at the pages. It’s around the middle of the story, not much is left. “Looks like it’s getting interesting.”

You hum and flip another page. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty good where it is right now.”

His arms wrap around you a little tighter as he hums. He agrees with you silently, making his decision without you even knowing what he was deciding as you flip another page.

Things are good right now. Why change that?

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catbountry · 3 years ago

Text

Glancing over some of my older essays on politics, I’m kind of struck how, despite them not being written that long ago, I feel like I come across as a dumbass, or at least like somebody who thinks they’re much smarter than they actually are. And it’s weird, because most of my views are roughly the same; rather, it’s that I feel the way that they’re articulated comes across as too... I don’t know, smarmy? Smug, maybe? Lacking nuance. Blunt. Like I’m talking down to people. Obviously, this was never my intention, but it’s weird how something that was written while in my early 30′s somehow makes me wince a little... as I rapidly approach being smack-dab in the middle of my 30′s. God, I’ve been in my 30′s for almost 5 whole years now, fuck, where does the time go?

I think being able to come out of the other side of the Trump presidency in one piece has kind of helped add some much-needed perspective, at least for myself. I think the hypothesis that a lot of people who voted for Trump were desperate for some kind of change was proven correct when he failed to be re-elected due to his bungling of COVID, which, funnily (or not) enough, he almost could have looked like he was doing the right thing when he initially wanted to close the U.S. borders... except he’d been trying to restrict travel and close borders so often that of course nobody took such a suggestion seriously. And even if they had? Rich people still would have brought it over, because as we all know, rich people can just get away with all kinds of shit. Of course, once it actually hit, Trump really couldn’t handle the idea of looking weak at all, so instead, it was downplayed, joked about, not taken seriously, even though he’d been briefed that it was going to be really, really bad. And when he got it, and in private thought he was going to die? Well, once he beat it, of course he had to say it wasn’t so bad... even though it killed almost a thousand times more people than the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Most of them were seniors. I think that, as well as a general fatigue and disappointment over the lack of swamp-draining from those who weren’t fanatical devotees, probably sealed his fate. I admit, I wasn’t very sure Biden really had much of a chance for a long time... until COVID happened. But hey, at least we got our stimmy from Trump, right lads?

I’m still fully convinced that Trump never intended to win, and that his run was done purely for ego and financial gain, but his ability to effortlessly bait the media, as well as his unexpected exposing of the sham we all knew presidential elections to be, wound up rocketing him to success. Trump will no doubt go down as one of the most successful conmen in American history, one so slick he wound up conning his way all the way into the White House. The whole thing was like if The Producers was a presidential campaign, fascism included. Granted, I don’t think Trump was ever a true fascist; I think he wanted to be a dictator, but the actual job of being President was a drag. The cult of personality he accrued, however, was the biggest source of narcissistic supply that he’d ever experienced in his entire life. Hell, just being the literal President, the most important person in the entire fucking world, is a hell of a high that I don’t think he’ll ever really be able to reclaim. Trump’s going to be chasing that dragon for the rest of his life. Having “President” in front of your name is a lot nicer than actually, you know, having to be the President. I mean, look at how quickly Obama went gray. A lot of people are convinced Trump will run again in 2024, and I don’t doubt it, but unless something happens that completely throws us for a loop, I don’t see him being able to recreate the, er, “magic” of 2016. Everyone getting to see that, not only was his fanbase capable of having embarrassing public meltdowns just like the le epic triggered snowflake lib Hilary supporters, but that their meltdowns were even more embarrassing, and that they all looked like a bunch of fucking English soccer hooligans during the Capitol siege... well, I think that’s going to put off the swing voters, as well as the moderate Republicans.

Also, that Twitter knock-off founded by Trump’s aide, Gettr, being flooded by gay furries posting Sonic the Hedgehog foot porn? Feels like classic 4chan-style raiding. I approve. It almost feels like we’re healing, even if it’s just a little bit.

But what the fuck did we even learn from all this? What did I learn from this?

I don’t know. It feels like over the time I’ve been on Tumblr, what was once SJW became woke, and being woke has become very normal; so normal, in fact, that fucking massive corporations that use slave labor overseas will change their Twitter icons to rainbow every June because The Gays have become a safe, marketable demographic. On one hand, it’s nice to know that, at least in what I guess is considered the western world, LGBT people are more accepted now than they ever have been. On the other... god, it feels so cynical, doesn’t it? This is all very stream of consciousness, here. I don’t write very much on here since, surprise surprise, Tumblr’s been kind of dead since the porn ban. I still see people post, but it used to be that I couldn’t refresh my dash without seeing dozens of new posts. Now it feels like I refresh my dash and I’d be lucky to see a new post there an hour later. This is why I’m on Discord more. It feels like I have more productive conversations than I ever could on Tumblr or Twitter. Twitter is just... god. It’s like all the worst parts of Tumblr without the parts that made it fun aside from a few memes.

Sorry, I got off track there. The point I was going to make before is that, while I am still very firmly anti-censorship, I’ve managed to put myself in a position where it no longer feels like the stakes are so high. I can relax. I don’t have to feel like I’m on the defense the whole time as somebody grills me over some slip-up. I don’t use Twitter that much. When I do post something in response to somebody, I feel like I instantly regret it. I posted in response to some dumbass spreading a rumor that 4chan’s favorite Simpson’s meme about Sneed’s Feed and Seed is secretly ableist, and I got a response from some dude with an Umaru-chan avatar telling me how he’s proudly racist because he and his friends call each other slurs? Like bro, you’re posting cringe, you’re going to lose subscriber-

I don’t know what I’ve learned yet. Maybe that social media sucks and that chatrooms with friends are the superior way to communicate online. I tried out Telnet recently to go into some random IRC, that was neat. It just feels nice to not have to get into a fucking argument every fucking day over shit that doesn’t matter as much as people thinks it does, to not have to hear about every fucking time the President sneezes or farts. It’s not that there’s no longer anything to worry about; there is. I’d really like to see fellow lefties go after the handful of massive corporations that control the majority of the online experience, who censor not just all the racist white dude grifters in suits who all look suspiciously similar to one another, but us as well. I want to see us raise a bigger stink about the web being santized, sterlized, and gentrified to be friendlier to corporations who only want your precious data and eyeballs. Maybe without the constant distraction of Bad Orange Man, we could make that happen. Maybe.

Or maybe fucking Dream will breathe again and all the fucking children will piss their pants and clog up Twitter, fuck these kids, get off my internet, GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#not fan fiction #political bullshit

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Sheng (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Yeren Additional Tags: Exophilia, Yeren, Chinese Yeti, Bigfoot, Sasquatch Content Warnings: Slavery, Indentured Servitude, Gladiator Words: 5545

The conclusion to the story commissioned by @floral-and-fine! After three years, the reader returns to repay Sheng's generosity. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Sheng’s friend Rantha was a large, black minotaur, you discovered. He and Sheng had been raised together at the arena. Rantha had had the makings of a top-winning gladiator when he was young, but he left after he killed a man during a bout, deciding that fighting wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life.

He now made a living as a hunter and was married with two sons, living in a quaint cabin in the forest, which is where he took you when you left the city. You had given Edgar the extra papers you’d found before you made your escape, not certain what they were, but hoping Edgar could do something with them and help other people unjustly imprisoned find freedom, or at least justice.

Mercy, Rantha’s wife, was a cheerful and accommodating woman. She had a shriveled left arm, an affliction she’d had since childhood, but she managed to do things one-handed with little to no trouble at all. When you told her about how your own family had sold you into slavery to pay off their debts, she had told you about being left here in the forest to starve by her mother.

However, it was only because of that that she was able to meet and marry Rantha in the first place. She knew she was lucky, though; if Rantha hadn’t been here and she’d been left at an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere with no help, she wasn’t sure if she’d still be alive. As much as you empathized with her, it did make you feel better knowing that her own sad tale had a happy ending. You hoped you and Nhemi had a happy ending waiting for the two of you, as well.

Nhemi, who’d grown up a slave, wasn’t used to not having any work to do and was a little confused by the change. Honestly, you were feeling out of sorts, too. Rantha and his family gave you food and shelter with no expectation of reimbursement. Being a guest after being a servant for so long felt unnatural to the both of you.

That evening, Rantha slept in his boys room and gave you, Nhemi, and Mercy the large bed.

“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,” You whispered to Mercy as the three of you began to prepare for sleep.

“It’s no trouble at all, love,” She replied. “Rantha has been helping folks escape hard lives in the city since before the two of us ever met. He was able to walk away from the arena freely, but a lot of the friends he left behind weren’t as lucky. I think he’s always felt guilty about that.”

“I get that,” You said. “I wasn’t close with many of the other slaves besides the children I helped raise, like Nhemi, but I still feel bad that I’m here and they’re there.”

“I can’t tell you how to feel, of course, but considering you were working off someone else’s debts and that you were being held illegally, you’ve more than earned your freedom in my opinion. You don’t have to feel bad that you’ve finally received what you deserved in the first place. Trust me, that was a lesson I had to learn myself.”

You smiled. The three of you climbed into bed with Nhemi in the middle. She’d only ever slept on a thin cot before, so the plush bed was something she was unfamiliar with. She adapted quickly enough, and was dead asleep in a matter of minutes.

Despite the exhaustion due to the three day flight from the city to Rantha’s hidden cabin, you lay there unable to doze off. You stared up at the ceiling, the uncertainty of yours and Nhemi’s future made sleep slow in coming. Where would you go? You were now a fugitive on the run. If you or Nhemi were caught, it was the gallows. Rantha said there were options, places you could go where the people would protect you, but that seemed dubious to you. You knew better than anyone that everyone had their price.

Rantha had told you that Sheng had provided you with a care package of money and papers recommending you for work wherever you chose to go. You weren’t even sure where you should go. Where would be safe? Honestly, the safest thing would be to leave the country altogether.

You could go to the port in Shoreton and beg for a place on a ship. You didn’t know anything about working on a boat, but you were a fast learner. Every ship needed someone to mop decks and cook. You’d need to buy some trousers.

What about Nhemi? Would she be able to work on the ship? You knew there was an orphanage two towns over. Should you leave her there? You didn’t like the idea of leaving her with strangers, but it may be what was best for her.

With the future uncertain, you fell into an uneasy sleep, visited by tense dreams that were gone when you woke.

Three Years and Five Months Later

You stepped off the gangplank in Shoreton, adjusting your hat and looking out over the port town with a smile on your face. Shoreton was built on the ruins of an ancient elvish city, long decayed. What it’s original name was is lost to time, but now it was a town full of life and livelihood with fisherman and sailors and working girls. It felt more like home than any home you’d ever known, despite you spending a collective few months there.

You had managed to get a job on a merchant ship. Their merchandise was of questionable origin, but they hired you and Nhemi as deckhands, mopping the deck and scraping barnacles off the bow. Much like in the arena, you had worked your way up into owning your own small transport ship with a handful of crew, including Nhemi, who could climb the rigging like a spider.

Despite being a woman, your reputation for getting cargo where it needed to go regardless of seas or circumstance had garnered you a lot of business. In three years, you were now a captain of a small fleet of ships and a loyal crew. Your habit of humming as you navigated had earned you the name “Sea Sparrow” by your crew, a nickname that had caught on with the other sailors.

Next to you was your first mate, Neeta. Neeta was a siren who’d fallen in love with a crew member of yours. She was also the secret to the success of your business. The crewman she loved had died during a pirate raid, and the two of you had hunted them down and slaughtered them in his honor. Afterward, she swore allegiance to you, becoming a trusted friend and helping keep the seas and weather calm and favorable on your journeys. Staying on the boat allowed her to remember her departed lover and stay close to her home, the sea.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” She asked.

“Yes,” You replied. “This was always the plan. I told you that from the beginning.”

“I know. Far be it for me to question your decision,” She said sardonically. “It’s not as if I’ve ever left my whole world behind for someone I loved, after all.”

“That’s only part of it,” You replied evenly. “I have unfinished business in Dunmountain. Clearing my name is important to me and so is repaying Sheng, but there are people out there who need to pay for wronging me, and people who are still being wronged. Someone has to do something about it.”

“Does it have to be you who does it?”

“If I don’t, then who will?”

Neeta gave a conceding nod. “That’s fair. Do you think you’ll come back to the ships when you finish your work? I can certainly run things in your absence, but the seas will be sadder without you on them.”

You smiled. “That’s kind. I’m not sure. Sheng talked about a small cabin in a small town, and I want him to have what he wants.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll get what I want, regardless,” You said, smirking. “I always do eventually. The key is convincing people your patient, when really you’re just stubborn.”

Neeta chuckled and crossed her arms, looking out over the port town.

Nhemi stepped up next to you on your other side and took a deep breath, looking up and grinning toothily at you. She wasn’t much taller than she had been three years ago, but she stood straighter and with more confidence. She had earned quite a bit of respect herself, having become an invaluable member of your crew.

“Ah, there you are,” You said, crouching down so that you were eye-to-eye with her. “Now, you remember what I said, you hear? Listen to Neeta, keep close to the rigging, and take care of yourself. When you come of age, one of these boats will be yours. You’ve earned it. And who knows? One day you might be my competition.”

“That’s right, I will!” She said brightly.

You twitched her nose and kissed her cheek. “You be good, alright? You’ll see me again before long.”

“I better,” She said, hugging you around the neck. You returned it and stood, giving Neeta a firm handshake, and headed out into the town to hire a carriage.

It was a nerve-wracking six days to reach the city. Not much had changed, especially the arena. The sight of it when you rode past it made your heart lurch. Was Sheng still there? Did he think of you? Had he been hurt again since you’d been gone? Had he gotten into trouble for helping you?

You’d thought of sending him a message, but Rantha said it was dangerous. The only thing you’d been allowed to do was send a missive to Edgar with the words “All is well” and hope he passed it along for you.

You found an inn uptown and set your belongings in it. You’d sent a letter to a magistrate in the city asking to meet, and the date was set for tomorrow. The waiting was agonizing. You wanted this to be over. You wanted the slavemaster and your family in jail. You wanted to see Sheng. But, you reminded yourself, you had decided not to meet Sheng until all this business was done. Sheng was the final piece.

The next morning, you went to the magistrate’s office with the papers you had kept on your person for the last three and a half years. You were so sick with nerves that you hadn’t been able to eat your breakfast, but you kept a stern and stoic face. You imagined you were quite the sight for the land-locked city, wearing a sword on your belt and a fine overcoat. Not to mention the well-tailored trousers. Tasteful women didn’t wear trousers. Not in this city.

“The magistrate will see you now, madam,” The attendant said to you. You nodded to him grimly, and he stepped aside warily to let you pass.

“Judge Andrews, good day,” You said as you entered.

He looked up from his papers. “Ah, good day, madam. You’re my appointment, I assume.”

“Yes,” You replied, and he gestured for you to sit. “You received my last letter, I trust?”

“I did,” He said, laying down his quill and sitting back in his chair. “And those are some serious allegations you’ve leveled against the slavemaster, serious enough to be taken to a higher court than mine, should they be true. I assume you have proof of your claims?”

“I do,” You said, handing him the envelope with the papers. “I also believe you should be in possession of a sheaf of similar documents from an anonymous source, correct?”

“That is correct,” He replied, looking at you curiously. “Though, without a formal complaint, no action could be taken. Are you making such a complaint on behalf of those referenced in the documents?”

“I am,” You said. “Should you need time to peruse the documents, I will wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors by coming without a legal representative, by the way. Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer?”

You shook your head. “I trust myself and my own competency, not the competency of someone who wants my coin. Especially when lives are at stake.”

He scrutinized your letter with a furrowed brow. “This is indeed the slavemaster’s seal.”

“And you’ll note that the dates and balances are after my original imprisonment.”

“That’s so,” He replied. “It would be very difficult to forge a letter like this. The slavemaster’s seal in particular is quite intricate and nigh impossible to duplicate. I would need a professional sealmaker to inspect it against the slavemaster’s, but this is strong evidence.”

“That’s good news,” You said. “So, how much time will we need to conduct an investigation.”

“No reason not to do it now,” He said, standing from his desk. “We can collect the sealmaster from on our way.”

“Wha--” You rose from your seat as well. “On our way to where?”

“The arena,” He replied. “If what you say is true, he’s had plenty of time to destroy valuable evidence. If we want to catch him red handed before he gets rid of anything that could incriminate him, including his own slaves, we should act fast.

Though he was an older gentleman, he was a spry fellow and quick on his feet. He flagged down a carriage and let you get in first. The two of you spoke on various things, mostly about your imprisonment. He kept the conversation light, but he often attempted to steer the questions toward your escape. It had been illegal, but since the statute was up he couldn’t touch you. He could, however, prosecute the people who assisted your escape. You appreciated his desire to uphold the law, and playful banter though it may have been, you refused to implicate anyone and carefully hedged the subject. After a while, he gave you a knowing look and ceased his attempts to glean information from you.

He made a brief stop at the sealmaster’s shop, grabbing the sealmaster and explaining the situation. He and the magistrate appeared to be associates, and though the visit was abrupt, he did acquiesce to accompanying the two of you to the arena to confirm the validity of the seal.

The arena loomed over you as you approached, it’s shadow an oppressive presence. One last time, You told yourself silently. Just this one time, and it’ll be over, either way.

This was the first time you’d ever walked in the front gate as opposed to the slave’s entrance. Your natural instinct was to lower your gaze, but you reminded yourself that you weren’t a slave anymore and you kept your eyes straight ahead.

“Pardon,” Judge Andrews said, catching an attendant’s attention. “Could you please notify the slavemaster that Judge Andrews has arrived and would like a meeting with him.”

“Of course, your Honor,” The attendant said. “Can I show you to a lounge where you may wait?”

“Please do, young man,” Andrews replied. “Bring wine.”

“Yes, your Honor.” The attendant turned and led you to the upper ring to one of the nicer private sitting areas.

“Young man,” Andrews said to him before he left. “Do tell the guard to be on alert but say nothing to anyone else. Bring two of your strongest to guard this room.”

“Yes, your Honor,” The attendant said, clearly disturbed but excusing himself to follow the judge’s orders.

Wine was brought, and the three of you sat discussing various things while guards arrived and flanked the doors of the sitting area. You recognized one of them, but you looked a bit different than you had when you were last here, so you weren’t sure if he knew it was you.

The attendant returned and said, “The slavemaster is available, if you’ll follow me.”

“No,” The magistrate said. “No, the slavemaster will come to us. And tell him to bring his seal. We have very important paperwork to go over. Tell him that.”

“Uh… yes… your Honor,” The attendant said uncertainly.

“Oh, wait, before you go,” You said, catching him as he turned. “Is… Does Sheng still fight for the arena?”

“Yes, madam,” The attendant said. “He has a fight today, in fact.”

“I see,” You said, keeping your voice level. “I will sponsor today’s event, then. Can that be arranged, or does he have another sponsor today?”

“He does not, madam,” He replied. “I will inform him that he has a sponsor and arrange for a meeting once he has become presentable.”

“Thank you,” You said, and tossed the boy a coin. He accepted it with a bow and left.

Judge Andrews raised an eyebrow at you. “It costs a pretty penny to sponsor a prize fighter, even for one round.”

You sipped your wine delicately. “I have a debt to repay.”

“Hmm,” He said, and drank his own wine.

The slavemaster took a full hour to drag himself to the meeting, and when he arrived, he did not look pleased.

“It’s good to see you, Judge Andrews,” He said, not at all looking as if he meant it. “To what do I owe this unprompted, unannounced visit? I was told something about documents to go over? Was this not something that could have been done from the comfort of my office?”

“Did you bring your seal, Master Owens?” Judge Andrews asked, ignoring the slavemaster’s questions.

The slavemaster sighed and produced it from his robes.

“Cornelius,” Judge Andrews said, gesturing at the sealmaster, who took the seal and fixed a jeweler’s loupe to his eye.

“What’s this about, James?” The slavemaster asked, crossing his arms.

“Pitting is identical,” The sealmaster said, examining the seal in reference to the document. “Grooves are the same. Moreover, I was the one who made this seal for the slavemaster. I can say with confidence that this document was not forged.”

You smiled slowly. Got you, you smug bastard.

“Forged? What are you talking about?” The slavemaster said.

“Read for yourself,” Judge Andrews said, handing the paper to the slavemaster. He snatched it from the judge’s hand and scanned it. His face then paled. “I also have these,” The judge said, retrieving the papers you had left with Edgar from his coat pocket. “These also have your seal on it, and I’ll eat my chair if they don’t match. What have you to say, Master Owens?”

“They’re forged!” The slavemaster protested. “They must be! I’ve never seen them before, I swear it!”

“Ah, but you see that’s why I’ve brought Cornelius, here. He was the one who made your seal, as he stated. He, himself, has judged them to be genuine documents.”

“Nonsense! I want a second examiner!” The slavemaster insisted. “I demand a proper investigation be done!”

“You can demand all you like from your jail cell,” Judge Andrews said. “Guards, arrest the slavemaster.”

The guards stationed outside the door entered and took the slavemaster by the arms, dragging him backward. You stood up and watched as he was forced, kicking and spitting, from the room.

“Did you want to say anything to him?” Judge Andrews asked.

You shook your head. “No. That’s done. Nothing needs to be said.”

He nodded in understanding. “Very well. I have much paperwork to do, so I shall be going. Please come by soon to sign some papers, will you?”

“Of course.” You held out your hand. “Thank you for your help, your Honor.”

He took your hand and shook it. “It was my privilege, dear lady. Do take care.”

“I will.”

He and the sealmaster left, and you sat down, sipping at the wine and waiting for the attendant to retrieve you for the fighting match.

You were led to one of the private sponsor’s boxes in the upper ring. This was all so surreal. You’d been in every inch of this arena, but never as a guest. You almost felt like you should get up and sweep the floor.

There was a roaring cheer that made you sit up in your seat and look down eagerly. There, striding out into the ring, was Sheng. His fur was shiny and glowing. He held up his hands and drank in the praise from the crowd. Seeing him made your hairs stand on end, but you also smiled. At least one thing hadn’t changed.

He stopped in the center and waved to the children, like he always did. He then bowed to the crowd. Finally, he turned to the box where you sat, and though he couldn’t see you from this distance, he bowed more deeply than he had to anyone else.

His bout was incredible, and you watched it on the edge of your seat, breathless. He was so graceful and athletic, even for his size. Your memories of him were nothing compared to him in real life, and you couldn’t wait to see him face to face again. You just hoped he would still see you as a friend, after all this time. Three years was plenty of time to change a person’s feelings. Not enough to change yours, but that was beside the point.

As expected, he won, and he was showered with applause and flowers from the crowd. You wished you had one you could throw to him, even if he didn’t know it was from you. He bowed again to you before he left the ring, scooping up several of the flowers that had floated to the ground and holding them up in salute to the audience.

“Madam?” You heard from behind you. It was a second attendant, a woman that you didn’t recognize. “A room has been prepared for you with refreshments while you wait for Sheng to get ready. If you’d follow me, please?��

“Of course, thank you,” You said, rising from your seat. “Are you a slave?”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, madam, I am.”

“Whose debts brought you here?”

Her face soured. “My husband’s.”

“And where is he?”

“Drank himself to death. I inherited his debts.”

“Hmm,” You said. You took a few coins from your pocket and passed them to her. “To freedom. From one slave to another.”

“Thank you, madam!” She said. “Thank you very much!”

“You don’t have to call me madam,” You said, smiling. She returned the smile. “What’s your name, love?”

“Anya,” She replied.

“Well, Anya,” You said, linking your arm with hers. “Why don’t you relax and have a drink with me until Sheng is ready?”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” You said. “The slavemaster would sell me in a heartbeat.”

“Today is your lucky day, Anya,” You laughed. “Come on.”

She sat with you until another attendant informed you that Sheng was ready to meet with and to collect your sponsorship fee, at which time Anya excused herself. You took a deep, shaky breath and waited.

Sheng entered the room, looking glorious, and smiled at you. You knew him well enough to know when he was trying to hide when he was tired.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” He said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the chamber. “If I might ask why you decided to sponsor me today? Have you seen me fighting before?”

“Oh, many times,” You said, smiling and trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. “Though, it was usually from the very cheap seats. This is the first time I’ve been back to the arena in several years.”

“Welcome back,” He said. “How was the view from the sponsor’s box?”

You chuckled. “If I’m honest, I preferred the old view.”

“And why is that?”

You sucked in a breath. “Sheng,” You said softly. “Don’t you know who I am?”

He blinked, and his smile slipped. “I’m sorry, my lady, but should I? Have we met?”

You sighed. “Well, I guess it’s not surprising you don’t recognize me. Cut my hair, and it’s a bit sun-bleached, too. I wear pants now. I didn’t do that when you knew me. I got a tan and lost some weight. That can happen when you’re on a boat for over three years.”

“A boat?” He said, confused.

“Yes,” You said. “I begged my way onto a ship after I… left. Worked my way up, and now I’m very successful. It’s why I sponsored you. I had a debt to repay.”

“A debt to me? Why?” He asked.

“Sheng, do you really not know who I am?”

He held out his hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

“Then let me remind you,” You said. You reached for your bag and pulled out a brush. “Come and sit.”

He eyed you warily, but he complied. He was still wearing his breastplate, but he’d taken off his bracers and neckguard. You reached up and carefully ran your fingers through the fur of his neck and began to brush in long, broad strokes. After a few seconds, he stood up abruptly and swung around, his eyes and mouth wide open.

“It’s you!” He said in a quiet voice. “You came back!”

Your eyes filled with tears as you laughed. “Of course I came back, you lump!” You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He gripped you to him tightly.

“Oh, I thought I’d never see you again, little one!” He said into your hair. “What have you been up to all this time? Is that a sword on your belt?”

You snorted a laugh. “Yes,” You replied. “It’s helpful for fighting off pirates.”

“Pirates?” He asked, pulling back to look at your face. “What work has you dealing with pirates?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” You said, crying. “Whatever you want. I’ll tell you anything.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t the same as the one he’d given you when the two of you had parted over three years ago, which was soft and feather-light and spoke of a long farewell. This was rough, hungry, and needy. Heat flared between your legs and you moaned against his lips.

He put you down on your feet and took your hand.

“Come on,” He said. “Let’s go somewhere more private, where we won’t be disturbed. You remember the way to my quarters?”

You smiled. “Some things one never forgets.”

He grinned back at you and the two of you sprinted to his rooms. Once there, the two of you began shedding clothes like they were on fire. Your breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking as he reached to touch your body.

“I’ve dreamed of this for three years,” He breathed. “Longer. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you from the arena, peeking into the ring. That was lust back then but even still I cared for you. I didn’t realize I loved you until it was too late.”

“It’s not too late, Sheng,” You said, carding your fingers down the fur of his chest. “I’m right here. I’m here because I chose to be. I chose you.”

He picked you up bridal style and tossed you lightly onto his wide bed. You bounced up and down with a giggle.

“You did lose some weight, but there’s still plenty of jiggle in those parts of yours,” He said, laughing as he climbed over you, pressing you down into the bed with his body.

You snickered and slapped his shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

“You like it,” He said as he kissed you. His kisses moved to your ear, then your neck, and to your breasts. He squeezed and kneaded them while he sucked on your skin. You sighed and pulled up your knees as he settled his body between them. Your back arched as he moved lower, kissing and sucking your belly and lifting your legs up and open.

The first press of his tongue against your slit was like lightning in your body, and the muscles of your stomach clenched. The sheets were balled in your fists as he sucked at your core, teasing the lips with one of his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” You wheezed.

“Where did you hear such language, missy?” He asked.

“I’m a sailor now, remember?” You said breathlessly.

“I thought that ‘cursing like a sailor’ thing was an old wives’ tale,” He said.

“It mostly is,” You said, looking down at him lying between your legs. “Can we discuss it later?”

He grinned wickedly at you and went back to his task with renewed vigor. You moaned and bit your lip as he eased a finger inside you, crooked and rubbing the sweet spot. You felt yourself coming to a climax, but just as you were on the cusp of falling over that cliff, he stopped, much to your dismay.

“Now, now,” He said, pulling himself up your body, kissing your skin as he went. “We don’t want to burn ourselves out before the main event.”

“I can go for hours,” You replied.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” He chuckled, kissing your lips. You rolled him until you were straddling his waist. He was rock hard underneath you, and you slicked him in the wetness from your slit, rubbing yourself against him. He gripped your hips and groaned, his eyes closing.

“Is this as good as your dreams?” You asked, bracing yourself on his chest.

He touched your cheek and made a fist in your hair, pulling your head back. You laughed.

“Better,” He said. “Infinitely better.”

You pushed up on your knees while he reached between the two of you and held his cock in place so that you could slide slowly down upon it. There was a little bit of pain due to his size, but you gave yourself a minute to adjust, and began to rock gingerly. You bent down to kiss his chest and fondle his nipples and he bucked a little underneath you.

“You’re going to make me pop too soon,” He huffed.

“That’s alright,” You said, sitting up and bouncing faster. “You got me pretty close, it won’t take much to make me cum now.”

He grunted and his fingers dug into your flesh as he drove up into you from below to meet your hips as you came down on him. The two of you were beyond words at this point, moving in sync with each other. Your thigh twitched as you came suddenly, gushing down his shaft as he released inside you with a drawn out groan of pleasure.

You collapsed onto his chest with a deep sigh of satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around you and held on tight. Eventually he rolled so that you were tucked into his side and he breathed deeply, as if asleep.

“Are you still awake?” You asked.

“Aye,” He said quietly. “Though my vision went fuzzy for a moment.”

“You can’t die yet,” You said, kissing his chest. “You still need the cabin in a quiet town. The little tadpoles. I’m going to make your dreams come true. It’s why I came back for you.”

“What about your dreams?” He asked, opening his eyes to look at you.

“You’re half of them, and I’ve got that now. The other half I’ll have to work on, if you’ll support me.”

He hugged you in tight. “Anything you want.”

By the time you were pregnant with Sheng’s first child, you’d taken a position at Judge Andrews’ firm and started working your way up, like you always did. Even though women were not allowed to actively participate in politics, the two of you began petitioning for fairer treatment for slaves as well as making it illegal to sell family members into slavery to pay for their own debts

There was plenty of pushback from people who liked the system the way it was and didn’t want things to change, but you were just as stubborn as they were. You went through all of the cases of the current slaves at the arena and made sure the ones who were being held illegally were freed with reparations. You also ensured that the responsible parties were arrested and tried for their crimes. You had to do all of this through Judge Andrews, which meant you didn’t get any of the credit, but that didn’t matter as long as justice was served.

You made sure Sheng got his cabin and his garden outside of the city. Commuting to the city for work was a bit of a pain, but you were happy to do it if it meant Sheng was happy. He loved being a househusband and a stay-at-home father, and as much as he wished you’d slow down when you were pregnant, he knew by now that he couldn’t stop you. If you had a mission on your mind, you wouldn’t stop until it was complete. He knew that. It’s one of the things he loved about you, even if it frustrated him at times.

You still had a long way to go, but some things were going to take time.

You were patient. You could wait.

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