#good job im now considering ir | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sherryzade · 1 year ago

Note

if i could pitch in my two cents as someone who's not able to vote but who's from the global south (syria gang gang 🇸🇾) and so tragically has a stake in american politics:

local elections are absolutely the place where your voice will matter most and have the greatest ripple effect, but on the matter of large elections like the presidential one, there ARE good options and i think there 100% is merit in voting third party, even if the benefits of that won't come quickly.

gonna super quick get on my soapbox and let ppl know that claudia de la cruz and karina garcia from the party of socialism and liberation are running for president and VP, and they rock, and they're going so hard on standing up for palestinians right now. they're making a HUGE impact on the political left (not just milk toast liberals, but genuine "fuck the capitalist system" leftists).

and like here's the thing... i actually don't think they'd win in 2024. the system is just horrifically rigged, and i think that splitting the progressive vote between democrat and third party would definitely result in a republican victory. the simple fact is that center-left progressives are entirely divorced from leftists, but center-right conservatives are willing to ally with the alt-right trumpers. i'm not gonna sit here and lie and pretend that it'll all be hunky-dory in 2024. in fact, the reason i've been so on the fence about this matter for so long is because it took me a long time to understand why some leftists are advocating for a strategy like splitting the vote which would so massively benefit republicans.

the person that really made things click for me was imani barbarin (crutches & spice on tiktok), when she pointed out a very consistent pattern within the democratic party: they don't fucking do shit without insane pressure. like real, actual, "i'm gonna lose my job" pressure. biden didn't even consider a 4 day humanitarian pause until his polling numbers plummeted lower than ever before. but he did, eventually, give in a little. that's very much the democrat's playbook, and you can see it time and time again.

yes, calling and emailing your reps can have an impact, but they know you don't think you have any other options. they know they have you trapped between a rock and a hard place, and they know the intensity of the partisanship in this country will force you into complacency. they're banking on it. the point is to make it clear that you're willing to let them lose their careers and income if they keep doing this. and yes, that's probably going to mean letting them lose and letting republicans win.

i'm not so idealistic that i think a socialist woc is gonna be the next president, but here's what i do think will happen: record high numbers of people will vote third party, and the democratic party will face massive losses including the presidential seat. you gotta strike fear into them, because no amount of appealing to their morals will ever be enough to bring change.

"but what about trump/project 2025!!" biden never promised you he'll stop that in any way shape or form. the sad and very radicalizing reality is that all of those things would happen anyway even under a democrat president. cop city is being built now. children are being deported now. people are starving now. war is happening now. the IRS is being defunded now. the electoral college exists now. abortion rights are being overturned now. climate change is happening now. education is collapsing now (and it has been for decades).

i'm not saying you should give republicans any grace and im not saying republicans are our saviors or anything. sometimes the most strategic thing is to let the enemy take the W. if people en mass just refuse to vote democrat, it'll actually be a wake up call for the ghouls in congress that they can't keep doing this shit. you gotta make em hurt, man. and then maybe after they realize the game is up and they're forever screwed, y'all can actually have a president like claudia de la cruz.

EDIT: for the people refusing to vote democrat or republican, i do still encourage you to vote 3rd party even if you know it won't really count. it still sends a message. you aren't some shmuck who doesn't vote or care about politics, you're very intentionally sending a message of "you all fucking suck." and sending that message with a single vote will mean more than a thousand emails or calls saying the same thing but then still voting blue.

I don’t want to misunderstand and make things worse for people. When you (and others) say don’t vote, do you mean don’t vote for biden or don’t vote at all?

Hey thanks for sending this in. No worries I understand the confusion.

I said in the tags in the previous post that I think people should vote for the reps in that list because they can be bullied into doing things based on the traditional means of opinion sharing (calling, writing letters, etc) and plus it's a nice little "we meant it when we said we would not be voting for you when we called" to the other dems. Basicially, using your vote strategically as a threat and sending a message instead of just blindly voting blue because red is "worse" and not because you actually like any of Democrats policies.

When I personally say I'm not going to vote, I am still voting in local elections and school boards and things like that. I definitely think you should always vote on the school board, especially, if nothing else. But I don't think I will be voting for major politicians like presidency — at least next election. I don't live in any of the districts of the ceasefire reps either.

Not voting and seeing people not voting would make people change their strategies. They know they can't rely on votes naturally anymore — they actually have to earn them based on material change. That's my personal intention, at least, with not voting. That and... like hell am I going to vote for the party and people that called for the blood of Palestinians. I do genuinely think they're bad people that no one should ever support under any circumstances, and I'll stick by that.

People mention voting for third party and I've recieved asks about it but.... I'm not sure. I think being president of the most powerful country in the world changes you fundamentally. We (palestinians) were hopeful for Obama when he went into office, and he did nothing, largely abandoning us, and he was taught by Edward Said himself. He was friends with Khalidi. He knew what was happening and still he made the decisions that he did.

Now I don't think you should just blindly follow whatever anyone says on the matter. I'm only giving you my opinion on this based on personal experience and past circumstances. You should genuinely, honestly, think about how your vote impacts others, especially around the world. Voting "blue" just because it might be easier for you here, then largely ignoring the entire world that's affected by the US, is, in my opinion, a pretty selfish decision. Besides, as someone who is disabled, Biden has already abandoned a large swath of people and basically left them to die with how he's dealt with covid. The migrant concentration camps are still there. He can't do anything about the Supreme Court and their messed up decisions. He won't do anything meaningful to protect any type of person in the states either, so what are we voting for exactly?

Voting is not a chore you have to do to keep your rights. Voting is a participation in your political system depending on the circumstances surrounding the things you care about. When that political system largely ignores you, I don't see a purpose in participating and showing support — because that's what Voting is, support — to people you fundamentally disagree with and those that don't really care about you.

205 notes · View notes

cielospeaks · 2 years ago

Text

and this time for the real yr in review!

statistics:

grade- no grade babyyy im an adult (but no. im working. lol)

how i spent birthday- actually did something for once! got together w a friend and went to the conan cafe + conan movie! it was fun!

first date to come to mind- oh its gotta be jan 18

why?- using expert (average) strategy i had calculated it to be my only day to go to nwh at an imax theater in order to get the past 8:00 discount and the free stickers. turned out i had work which i wasnt told abt but that was ok bc like i said the movie was at 8. went leisurely shopping in seria and went to royal host tho i had no appetite bc of nwh hype and also i was reading death on the nile. then the imax show was amazing and i still have the stickers, they are my prized possession

something u gave up- i think i gave up caring abt fgo plot bc it all sucks lol. but actually i switched jobs. turned out it was not better, but not worse. absolutely necessary but there are still problems. but thats for me this year to figure out.

someone hot- like :/ how you gotta tell me this. i do completely platonically think the characters from that movie were hot/attractive/nice to look at. theyre just there and im down to see their shenanigans.

best media- i really liked reading mysteries oh my gosh. also seeing the raimiverse movies at last was very good.

worst media- i think its gotta be g b f. like. g o is bad but ive known it would be bad, so its not really notably so. f e h is the same way, like b6 was bad, the tempest trial painted its protagonist in a disfavorable light, but tbh i didnt mind it bc everyone stayed in character unlike last years. g b f has characters as interesting as captain fucking nemo and messes it up. i think the one event i didnt dislike this year was the disciples one and that was just bc it was true neutral. no big bad, no “oh player character you’re so op swoons”, no hamfisted morals, no fetishizing actual problems people face irl, and thats considered a win. not like i like g b f writing considering i stopped playing around the muse event, but they messed with garebear specifically so they earn my ire.

favorite things overall- idk. i wouldnt say favorite bc its actually really frustrating but i feel like having to face more like. irl problems (like mortality, the passage of time, interpersonal strain, ect) is good for me. i dont like it ofc but i do care about people around me so for their sake and my own i need to deal with these too, rather than just get pissed off abt second rate authors of games. that being said a real favorite thing (tho even thats a little bittersweet) was def n w h. like from january to the summer at least i was on a high feeling of hype and happiness abt the story and overarching franchise. im still not a m c u enjoyer but im a huge nwh fan. oh and also things like the g b f museum and g o fest turned out to be surprisingly like. super fun! so that was great!

what ur looking forward to next yr- its up in the air now but itd be nice to get a steady job that pays decently and covers things but doesnt sign me up for things i cant afford. like that would be ideal and id like it to happen. but again idk. i guess im looking forward to seeing what the year holds, good or bad, and trying to make the most of what happens. idk i cant think of anything in particular. except junko nendoroid. oh and sal and izou standies w my gofest goods! and the conan movie! and- (cut off rambling abt fandom stuff)

#year in review

0 notes

lettersnorth · 3 years ago

Photo

It'd be nice to catch the breeze! It'd be fun! That's what Cravendy had thought on a whim. But now that she was up here, after crawling through several spaces far too cramped for any normal-sized person to fit through, she determined the effort to get here far outweighed any benefit. And eventually, she'd have to find a way down. Cravs puts that off for later and looks over the Lilly Hills.

After the meeting with Momori, Aislinn comes across a note left on the desk of her study. A request from Cravendy for Aislinn to engineer an undetectable tracking device. Questionable at best, downright shady at worst but also surprising, coming from Cravendy. She knows the clock is ticking on her own issues but before returning to her business in Ishgard, she goes in search of the oddly absent Seawolf to find out exactly why she would need such a device.

With a bit of searching Aislinn finally finds the woman out on the widow's walk on the very top of the Company House. What was it with the people in her life and high altitudes? She clambers out onto the high walk, with a puff of exertion after squeezing herself through the small attic crawlspace. "Nymeia's breath." she mutters under her breath as she appears and then, "Here you are." louder now, for the Seawolf to hear as she dusts herself off.

Cravendy waits in fearful anticipation as something is shoving its way through the crawlspace. When Lin finally emerges, Cravs doesn't know whether to laugh or cry from surprise. "What the 'ell?! Lin? What brings ye up 'ere?" "Ye look like yer 'alf dust bunny." Cravs, having been 'trapped' out here for quite some time, has had ample time to brush herself off.

Aislinn takes a moment to peer over the edge. The view up here was rather nice. She might even make use of this walk herself sometime when she needed some quiet. She made a mental note of it as she stepped back. "You." she replies, her voice as matter-of-fact as ever. "I came across the note you left on my --" she pauses, noting a bit of dusty cobweb still clinging to the edge of her spectacle frame. She sputters and swiftly brushes at it with a wave of her hand. Clearing her throat, she continues, "..my desk. What's this business about an 'undetectable tracking device'?"

Cravendy stifles a giggle as Lin struggles with the spiderwebs caught in her hair. "If ye've got 'alf a mind to come up 'ere again, we should bring in a team of professional cleaners. It was 'ard for me too, and 'arder still with bugs and splinters every ilm."

"But, ah. Mm." Cravs scratches the back of her head and turns away. This was something she had shared with Riylli and Rising - would Lin respond in the same way? Normally, Cravs would brush off the request, switch the topic. But with two out of two on her side, maybe...just maybe Lin would be receptive as well.

"To put it shortly, I need it to incriminate someone of bein' an arse."

"We should." Aislinn agrees, momentarily pulling the glasses from her face and inspecting them with a frown to be sure they were clean. "I'd wager no one's set foot in the attic in an age." Fitting the frames brusquely back on her face, she passes Cravendy a skeptical look. "Not saying there's not a time or place for that but that might be putting it a little too short for me. Is there a longer version?"

Cravendy grimaces, reacting as if Lin is suggesting she needs a tooth pulled. "Shit...the longer version? Uh, the full version? Ye really got time for that? Not that it's anythin' big." She wheezes. "I mean, relatively, it's small, in the grand scheme of Eorzea burnin'."

The more Cravendy hems and haws, the more Aislinn's concern grows. "I'm not asking for the -full- story if you've not the inclination. But you've got to admit that if you're asking me to hand you a device like that, I need to know at least a little bit as to why. Not only for the obvious reasons as to whether we're wandering into a gray area with a -tracker- but to inform the parameters of this project. What sort of range, for how long, and so on." she explains.

"There's a loanshark that's botherin' someone I want to 'elp. I figure if I can bring 'em down, they won't be able to pester 'im anymore," Cravs eventually admits, arms crossed. "But on the surface, their record is clean. So I...I may 'ave broken a law or two in order to find some dirt."

"I need the tracker to prove the loanshark's up to no good. Evidence that'll be 'arder to trace back to my own lawbreakin'."

Aislinn expels a troubled breath. It wasn't the lawbreaking that bothered her. Far be it from her to lecture anyone about something like that. She stares out at the vista over Cravendy's shoulder with a considering tilt of her head. In the end, she couldn't hold it against Cravendy if she decided to hold information back. It wasn't like Aislinn herself was as forthright as she could be with her either. "A normal tracker would just tell you where a person's been. A trail on a map. Is that going to be enough?"

"As long as this tracker can't be sensed by Limsa's best, can lead me to wherever she's storin' 'er illegal goods, then it'll be more than enough." Cravs puts a finger over her lips. "....Oh. And if it can somehow be 'idden in a vat of toad ooze."

"I'm 'opin' to bait 'er with it, ask a favor from Dirtpatch, 'ave everythin' legally look....bad, tear down 'er reputation. Maybe even toss her into gaol." Cravs nods, satisfied. "A sound plan, eh?"

Aislinn shoots a glance over to Cravendy, a small measure of amusement sparking there despite her misgivings. "A vat of toad ooze." she echoes. She inhales and tries to think it through like it was a reasonable problem set and not at all the odd request it was. "Acidic? That depends. Corrosion could be a problem if you needed it to last longer than a few bells. And what makes you think she'd drag toad ooze to wherever you're hoping she goes?"

Cravendy frets by tugging on her braid. She didn't think about that, and after harvesting all that ooze, her hands did feel a bit itchy. "Uh, maybe? Is this somethin' ye can test? It's safe for me to dunk my 'and in for a while. It's sittin' in a barrel in my room if ye want to look at it."

"She's a spice trader, both the dust ye put on food and the, er, 'strong' stuff. I 'eard toad ooze is used by pixies for psychedelic effects, and it sure as 'ell ain't easy to come by. She won't resist tradin' for a vat for it, I think."

"Not just a loanshark, then." Aislinn notes. A bit of fire flickers through her eyes. The drug trading detail seems to have drawn the woman's ire. "I can test it." she affirms. "Once I know what I'm dealing with I can decide on a case of some sort. A shell that would protect the device. But that might limit my options, if it still needs to let an encrypted signal through. Maybe something with a delayed activation? She wouldn't detect it at first if she were looking. But then it'd wake itself up somewhere down the line not too long after she took the bait." Aislinn is clearly thinking out loud now, hooked by the challenge set before her.

"Then it'd be a matter of knowin' when to activate it. It could take a couple of suns for it to make it to 'er," Cravs ponders. "So when it activates, ye think she could sense it then? If that's the case, the moment it goes off, I better be ready to jump into action."

"'ow are ye gonna make a delayed shell like that? I've 'eard of slow actin' medicine, but a slow actin' tracker....and an undetectable one at that. Think that's in the realm of possibility?"

The planning and sketching going on in Aislinn's mind is halted by Cravendy's question like a pen scratching wildly off the boundaries of a page. "What do you mean, could she sense it? I thought she might, at best, scan the vat of toad ooze with her own equipment. How would anyone sense a ping of a device going online? Does she have something I don't know about?"

"That's the thing." Cravs snaps her fingers. "I 'ave no clue. If someone was storin' illegal goods, what sort of security measures would they take? I'm imaginin' an empty barn, maybe 'idden by some trees, but...eh. I dunno. What do ye reckown?"

"Depends on how sophisticated an operation you're dealing with." Aislinn answers with a half shrug. "Is this just a side job for her, something to make a little extra gil or is this her livelihood she has to protect? Is she an arrogant person who thinks she'll never get caught or is she paranoid? How long has she been at this?" Aislinn waves a hand through the air as if to say 'and so on and so forth'. "Let's plan as though it's the worst case scenario. She's wily, she's paranoid and she's been at this for years. If so, hiding something in the product might not be the best way to outsmart her." Lin drummed her fingers against her arm in thought. "Who's meeting her to make the trade?"

Cravendy considers this, is relieved to have asked Lin about such matters. "'ow do I put this...what I'm 'opin' to incriminate 'er of wasn't illegal until the Admiral got in charge of Limsa. So at the least, she's been hidin' her stuff for five years. But I would lean on longer, since hidin' from the law is one thing, hidin' from a rats nest of pirates is another."

"As for who's makin' the trade...a couple of old friends of mine. Nostalgically inclined friends."

"You're trying to catch a pirate." Aislinn said with a dawning realization. A conflicted look flitted across Aislinn's face for the briefest of moments. She had recently found reason to feel differently about certain pirates than most. But Cravendy was speaking of a drug trading, loanshark pirate, she reminds herself and stays the course. In every business there was the good, the bad and the downright ugly. "Do you think money will change hands? Or a drink of some sort. I could work with something like that." she shakes her head. "Either way just give me some time to think and I'm sure I can come up with something. When are your friends meeting her?"

"I wouldn't call 'er a pirate. Too old...or...." Cravs looks into the distance. Mindred might have been a pirate in her heyday, and that explained a lot. She blinks. "Ahem, anyway, when everythin' 'appens is up to me. When everythin's ready I can tell my friends what they need to know."

"Back when I 'ung out with 'em, exchanges were drink free, actually. Everyone 'ad appearances to keep up, and no one wanted a deal to go sour cause Bob can't keep their 'ands off the bottle. But money, aye. Money was exchanged."

Aislinn nods. "Alright, then. As I said, give me some time. I'll come up with something." she hesitates, knowing time wasn't exactly something she had in spades at the moment. "Sooner rather than later, you can be sure."

"No rush. I expect we'll 'ave our 'ands busy with Momori's bullshite anyway. Cheeky lil' red eyed bugger." Cravs shrugs. "It ain't as pressin', is what I'm sayin'."

Relief seems to relax her upon hearing that Cravendy didn't need this device right away. "She says this is all about saving the star. But I still don't trust her an ilm. She isn’t the altruistic sort." Lin turns for the door, preparing to scoot herself back through. "Just...be careful with this drug deal business, alright? Generally, they aren't the best people to be messing around with, you know?"

"There's some other angle she's playin' at, I'm sure of it. Either that, or she's just plain bad at actin' normal." Cravs laughs - she's heard stories about Momori's attempts to smile. "Aye, don't worry. I've dealt with 'er kind afore. Not against 'em, but eh. Same difference."

With the details ironed out, the only thing left now was to figure out how to get down. The passageway through the attic beckoned to the two, promising hair full of webs and dust up the nose. Cravs groans.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #rp snippets #Aislinn's shady past comes in handy #All these pirates #Cravendy Hound

7 notes · View notes

infini-tree · 3 years ago

Note

edith for the character ask meme. or tigress my beloved

Pick a character I’ve written and I will explain the top ~three to five ideas/concepts/etc I keep in mind while writing that character that I believe are essential to accurately depicting them.

why not both bc they are both my beloveds. first, edith (and as a disclaimer, im gonna refer to some au stuff)

i think i’ve mentioned this before, but edith has chaotic energy. granted, its very mild, but its still there-- from her tendency to pop out of from nowhere to just speaking to krupp at a much more casual tone, let alone try and woo him, one would expect when you’re talking to your boss (especially when his reputation must precede him!)

in a meta sense, there’s just something about her that breaks the mold of what an adult is supposed to ‘be’ in this universe, and it’s not just because she’s the only Nice staff member in jerome horwitz; that’s the main through line she has (this is much more prominent in one of my au wips, where edith is even more of an outlier, even in her own species, seeing as they’re meant to parody aspects of a 9-to-5 job and she cant quite fit the ideal mold)

she wears her heart on her sleeve; a lot of people (especially the more curmudgeonly staff, probably) sees her as naive or foolish for that, but she isn’t. there’s a degree of bluntness and honesty there and... she honestly doesn’t see the point of hiding it? of course there are times where she must, but on a regular day-to-day situation, she doesn’t bother to

she grounds both krupp and captain, but in different ways. for the former, she dispels the other’s self loathing and lets him rest. for the latter, she’s a safe (and more importantly, impartial) person to let himself figure out who he is outside of comic canon

and now tigress:

while she can seem aloof and stand-offish, she's not mean. at least, without a damn good reason. she’s a public figure, it wouldn’t do for her to give someone the cold shoulder just because of a minor slight. i mean, the reason why po was the subject of her ire in the first movie was because she’s been working at getting the dragon scroll to maybe get shifu’s approval, only for a random guy with no experience to literally fall out of the sky and get it. i’d lose my cool, too!

by default, she’d probably end up being formal. probably awkwardly so, considering her upbringing as a student and the servants being just as formal with her. in the present day, the worst of the awkward formality has been shaved off, thanks to having a healthy relationship with the rest of the five, but its still there. if the moment is too awkward, she might defer to using kung fu formality as a sort of shield to get away

not the type to use grand gestures. honestly she’s much too shy for that sort of thing. tigress is the type to hang back in a party, the type to try and do favors for someone they love if she sees them being down, that sort of thing

#ask #its been so long since ive written tigress..... rip

7 notes · View notes

uhhhhyandere · 5 years ago

Note

I love, love, love you ❤️ I was hoping I could request where the main character begs for Yandere Light to let her get a doggo bc she’s so lonely since he made her quit a job. Like full on having a full ass fit. I’m talking full blown brat shit. Just how he would react and what she would have to do to convince him if you catch that drift 😏😉

yeah, i know what i said in my last post. whatever. never believe anything that comes out of my stupid mouth i am the single biggest sob in the universe.

um… i took this in a… direction to say the least. someone has to stop me from riding suck n’ ride smut bc… it always goes like this.

next light smut there is going to be ass-eating or i swear to god my name isn’t kerry literally all im thinking about is giving him a rimjob. really. this is where we are at folks.

warnings: smut, face fucking (oops), dick sucking, sex, rough sex. he not happy boi

word count: 3.5k

All you did was watch dog videos anymore. Of course, you watched them because you literally had little else to do during the day, but you just… happened to be more open about it when Light came through the door. Did it have anything to do with the fact you’ve been thinking about getting a furry friend to keep you company from the silence of an empty house and the dark recesses of your mind?

No, of course not. It had nothing at all to do with it, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that if you ask him directly, he would say no before any more words could breach the air. You would have to be creative, because when Light said “no,” there was no more argument, and you wanted this argument.

“A Pug. Wow. Beautiful.”

“Look, it’s a—it’s a Corgi. Oh my—wow. That’s amazing.”

You’d play around with different sizes.

“This Mastiff? This gentle giant? Can do nothing wrong.”

“This Bichon matches with the snow!”

And you’d talk about listings you just happened to see online from the local shelters.

“This one—wow. All of her shots. She looks so nice. Oh, and potty trained! What a girl. Damn.”

“He’s sitting down—oh a paw. I see a paw. Can he do the other paw? Oh, yes he can. Also has all his shots. Wonderful.”

Considering the man you lived with, you were pretty positive that he figured out your intentions day one or day two max. It’s been about a week since you’ve been… outgoing in your interest. At this point, it was a game as to who would break first. You bet he was waiting for you to get annoyed with his ignoring of anything you said related to the subject with how blatant he was with shirking you off, forcing you to simply ask.

You weren’t going to make it so easy on him. Though he happened to be the king of hiding his emotions, you knew you had to be getting to him. Light would never admit it, and he would certainly never show it. He wanted to keep that satisfaction as far away from you as possible.

So, you turned up the heat.

Before, you would break off the dog topic after a time, wanting to etch it in your daily schedule only bits at a time. Now? It’s the only thing you talk about, no matter the actual subject at hand.

“There’s another event we have to—.”

“The animal shelter is having an event in the park next week for adoptions.”

“I’m going to have to go for groceries soon.”

“Look at this weenie dog dressed in a weenie costume.”

“I—.”

“Doggo cute.”

It was only a matter of time until—.

“This French Bulldog is—.”

“Y/N.” His voice was clear, demanding. Even after all this time, like a teacher scolding elementary students, it immediately brought you to silence. You sat on your shared bed, legs crossed, as he leered down at you from the bathroom. “I would say it was cute at first, but you know it’s a waste of time to try asking anything indirectly. As if I would succumb to your manipulation, but I let you carry on. You would get bored. You would stop and think and realize that it was pointless to keep it up, but you persisted. I thought to myself maybe you were just trying to see if I would crack and give you the satisfaction of indulging in your antics, and I was right.

“It begs the question. Why didn’t you just ask directly? Easy. Because I would say no, and you would be correct. To allow something else besides me your devotion? Not likely. But what? Did you think showing me videos of Shibu Inus and Pomeranians would make me want one first? You have the logic of a six-year-old, Y/N,” Light began to unbutton his shirt, “Did you honestly think it would work? Or did you simply want to get a rise out of me?” He removed the shirt entirely, then lifted his undershirt over his head just as easily. Light tossed the fabric into the hamper, leaving a pale, lithe abdomen on display. He turned to fully face you and took two easy steps forward. “Why would you want one in the first place? Have I not given my fiancée enough attention recently? Is this your way of getting back at me, hm?”

You were almost at an even height to his belt buckle, but you did your best to ignore that as his eyes demanded attention upwards. His gaze was near malicious, but not quite so. Ah. Lascivious. That’s what they were. You swallowed the knot out of your throat.

“Y-you wish.”

“Your hesitation is very resounding. Then, if you’re so sure, indulge me. Don’t tell me you wanted a distraction from your loving husband-to-be. I know you didn’t want something else to focus on besides me when I’m away at work, so tell me. Tell me why you desired a filthy, shedding ball of fur. Your answer may earn you some mercy.”

You unfolded your legs from underneath you as your foot began to numb under the weight of your leg. Your hands glided back and forth on your thighs. Was there a point in lying? No, scratch that. Was there a point in lying to someone who already knew the truth? Well, his own truth that Light would undoubtedly make yours. There was little purpose in making it worse on yourself.

“No, you’re—uh—right.” Light set his hands on his hips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m just… lonely when you’re at work. So… yeah.” You risked a peek upwards. Oh, geez the smirk on that fucker. “I’m sorry.” His arms rose from his hips to cross over his chest.

“For?”

“Huh?”

“What are you sorry for? Annoying me for days with your drivel? Wanting a mutt? Lying?” You furrowed your brows. “Oh, that one confused you, hm? Alright, well, if you won’t admit it, I can do it for you. Lonely-“ he scoffed- “You can’t be serious. Such a blatant lie from your lips. The second time you are insulting my intelligence. I’ll ask one more time. Where does your motivation lie?”

“I’m not lying!” You hissed, jumping off the mattress to stand. “What—just what am I supposed to do all day cooped up in this place like a goddamned prisoner? Clean? The place is clean. Cook? As if you’d even let me try. Watch TV? My brain is rotting. You don’t even let me help kids with math anymore online. Just what am I to do? Next thing I may just throw myself out the window—,” Hands gripped your shoulders, causing a slight pain at the intensity.

“You think I’d let you? I expect you to stay here and be good and thankful that you are where you are. I, just as much as you, know—knew women who died to be in your shoes, and you’re ungrateful to be alive and safe? You want more?” You tried to shrug out of his grip, and he allowed you to take the steps away from him.

“I’m asking to be a human being, for fuck’s sake! I’m going to sit here and go crazy. Isn’t it enough that I don’t fuck with the rules anymore? I’m quiet. I don’t say anything. I put every façade you ask me to. All I want is something for me! Something to distract me from literally going insane here! To distract me from everything.”

Light’s eyes sometimes spoke more truth than his mouth ever could. Right about now, the browns were all-consuming, aflame with ire, but his lips were upturned in a challenge.

“A distraction. Caught in a lie, Y/N. Bad form, even for you. After all this time, you still can’t face reality, dearest. I knew you’ve been pitting your mind in some gutter you call the truth. Makes this all easier to accept, but to go to the physical extent? I won’t allow it, and you won’t be able to recess your mind for long, so enjoy that pleasure while you can.” He paused, countenance recessing to something more composed. “You love me, don’t you, Y/N?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, no lie in that affirmation. It was the easiest of his questions to answer. “I love you.” Light inhaled deeply, chest flexing with the exhale.

“With love comes compromise, correct?” You responded with a glare. His tone was all too insinuating. “So, let’s compromise, yes? I hate arguing with you.” He reached an arm out, hand open. Your eyes glanced between the extended limb and his eyes before cautiously taking it. His hand squeezed and pulled you in tight. Light twisted and adjusted you so when he fell onto the bed, you landed comfortably on his lap. Releasing your hand, he brought his own up to gingerly glide his fingers across your cheek, a trail of bumps in its wake as it curled into your locks. Almost like a lover. Almost.

His fingers seized the strands and pulled, forcing your head back and opening your neck for his mouth to latch. “Then compromise, dearest. Prove to me what you think you deserve.” He spoke against your skin, open-mouth kisses with a hint of teeth between his words. “And I’ll make judgement.” His hand let go of your hair and traced to the back of your skull to slant your lips onto his impatient ones. The other wrapped itself to pull your body closer until he pushed you off with an unexpected force, almost knocking you to the ground.

From the unbalanced position, you watched him adjust his position to lie in the center of the bed, head angled to watch you from the pillows with both his hands as another cushion for his crown. Light smirked, watching you stand straight. “Well, go on. Compromise.”

Light was never on the bottom. It was non-negotiable. Being anything else was utterly unacceptable for a god. This situation, despite the physical placement of both bodies, was no different. You may be the one crawling on top of him, fiddling with his belt buckle, but he had every bit of this situation in his control. Under his watchful gaze, you removed the strip of leather and threw it across the room.

“You’re going to have to help me here,” you muttered after undoing the fly. Wordlessly, he obliged, allowing you to slip the trousers off of his person. You glanced at his feet. Thank god he took his shoes off already, so he only lied in his boxers.

No, you would never be accustomed to this.

“You always look like it’s your first time,” he remarked. “As if you haven’t seen my cock before. From my recollection, you should be quite familiar with it by now.” You inhaled sharply. “Unless you don’t want to compro—.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, crawling to straddle his legs. “Just be quiet,” you said more quietly. You reached out to rub the only half-erect cock through the fabric. Only small groans were elicited above you. Light was not a noisy one, to say the least. It took your first, painful, terrible experience of deep-throating to even get him to moan fully.

“Do you think teasing is going to get you anywhere?” His voice is always composed during sex, and it really was alarming because… you really couldn’t relate. You glowered, fingers digging under the waistband and pulling. He helped again, lifting so you can get the fabric off. “If you think you’re doing anything fully clothed, I should take a cold shower.”

You made quick work of taking the layers of comfort clothes you had on, off. “You really know how to put on a show,” he deadpanned.

“Shut. Up.” You returned to your position, seeing his cock now fully erect from your previous work. You were sure you were wet, but you ignored it as best you could. You had a feeling you would not be serviced tonight. Before you can even lean down, he spoke again.

“Beg for it. Beg for the honor of sucking my cock. Convince me you deserve it if you believe you are so entitled.” There was not a single physical restriction to keep you from taking it into your mouth, but his words were powerful enough to keep you still. Light was daring you to try and misbehave, and you really couldn’t help the physical reaction his words always do to you.

“Please—,”

“Pathetic. I can have any girl in my bed. I can stick my cock in any person interested, and here you are, an ungrateful brat who wants more. You’re making quite an unremarkable argument for yourself. Perhaps I will take away—.”

“Please, Light. Allow me the honor of sucking your cock, of you fucking my throat. I want the privilege of swallowing your seed. Fuck—please. I’ll do anything.” You leaned down close, but not touching anything. You only lifted your eyes up to his. “Please. I know I’ve been bad. Please, let me make up for it.”

Your words in bed were always forced. He knew you hated dirty talk as much as you did, therefore he always made you speak, always made you confess how much you craved him, wanted him, and whenever you spoke it was hardly ever in lies. Your embarrassment was too prominent in your body language to tell him otherwise.

“Go on, then. Show me.” You licked up his length first, then around the head and back down. “Teasing will get you nowhere,” he repeated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and took him in, inch by inch. Light was incredibly average despite his ego. It wasn’t impossible to fit the entire length into your mouth with slow adjustment, but that didn’t mean it was fun. You would continue to work his length, getting more and less intense with your pressure and the speed your head bobbed. Still, there was little reaction from him, not there really never was any mind the grunts you could make out. Your inclinations to keep going, and you did until you pulled back.

“How’s—,” His hand was at the back of your head immediately, forcing your head back down, pushing his cock down your throat, pushing until you could feel his balls against your chin. No hair. He was pristine down there. You convulsed, gagged, choked, but he did not release his grip. Hand keeping its hold, he dragged your head up just a hair enough to thrust upwards. Water began to pool at the waterline of your eyes. You had to relax your throat, or this was going to be just worse.

But it was hard, so hard at the pace he was thrusting at. You squeezed your eyes shut and took it the best you can. Listening to his quiet grunts and groans, you forced your lips to continue covering your teeth, but you could not force your throat to loosen. Drool pooled at both sides of your mouth, carelessly falling into both him and the sheets along with the liquid of your tears.

“Your throat is so fucking tight. That’s it. Choke on my cock. This is what your dirty mouth deserves.” Your limited experience could be to blame for its restricting. That, or the selfishness of the man whose grip on your hair tightened even more right before he allowed you to breathe once more.

And breath you did. Gasping, reeling for air as drool continued to leak down. From beneath your hair, you looked at Light, his eyes wild and alive with lust. Small heaves from his smiling mouth mixed with your wet and heavy ones. “Do you think you deserved that, dearest?” You finally wiped your mouth and shook the spit from your arm. “You’re lucky I am so generous. Come. For doing such a decent job.” His hands patted his hips. Swollen eyes met his. “Ride me, before I change my mind and fuck you into the mattress.”

Regaining some semblance of control, you moved to straddle his length. “Oh, your pussy is glistening. Did me fucking your throat really do that much to you? You loved to be controlled, don’t you?” You did not answer, shaky hands guiding his cock so you can sink onto it. You groaned at the feeling. “Tell me how good it makes you feel. How only I can make you feel like this.” You bit your lip, sinking down another inch or so.

“God, Light. Your cock feels so good. Only yours can make me feel like this. No one—no man, no woman, no person—can make me feel anything—like—this—fuck!” You sunk down to the hilt before you lifted yourself again, easing yourself up and down his length. “It’s so good—so good.” Light allowed you more time but decided your gentle pace was not enough to soothe him. He roughly grabbed you and flipped your positions.

“Too slow, Y/N. What did I say about teasing?” He brought his hips back and then snapped them into yours. You screamed, and you wondered if the neighbors would call again, but his pace did not relent.

“Light—please. It’s too—too much! It’s too fast. I can’t��” He smiled, a wicked grin over you.

“And you won’t. Don’t you dare think about cumming. I decided you don’t deserve it. This is your compromise. You get to live, marry, and get fucked by me, and only by me, and I will only have eyes for you. You’ll never feel like you need a… distraction again.” You clenched your teeth and pushed your head farther into the pillows. “I feel you clenching onto me. Don’t you dare think about disobeying me.” His thrusts were even, balanced.

“Please, please, please let me cum. It feels too good. You feel too good. I’ll do anything.”

“Then don’t cum.” You threw your hands back and gripped the headboard, feeling it rock in rhythm to his thrusts. They were beginning to become, sloppy, wild, he was close while you were holding back for dear life. “Y/N. You are mine and mine alone. Your body. Your actions. Your mind. I am the only thing you are allowed to think about.” With one final push, his seed released, filling and coating your insides. He rode it out, making sure every drop stayed. He hated to have to wash the sheets after, though your drool stains remained.

Pulling out, he retreated and stood, ignoring your writing, unfulfilled form. “Come. You aren’t going to sleep like—get those hands away from there. Let’s get you clean before you ruin the sheets even more.” Like before, he extended his hand to your heaving form. “Alright, alright, I’ll take care of you, but you need to get cleaned up first.” An unstable hand fit into his own. His gently pulled you to stand and allowed you to lean your weight onto his.

Hot water cascaded down your body. Though Light effortlessly scrubbed washed his hair, you could not bring yourself to match his speed, and by the time he was already done, you hadn’t even washed your body yet. You heard an incomprehensible mutter amidst the running water as he left you alone. He was washing his face as you finally emerged, wrapped in your towel. No romance tonight, you figured. Not that it was any different than any other night. You followed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and taking your pills while he huddled in bed.

You could only dream of romance anymore. Getting your pajamas on, you approached the empty side of the bed. Before you could get on, Light shifted, opening his arms and staring at you expectantly. You froze. Did… did he want…? “Well, come on.” Ah. Was this supposed to be the ‘I’ll take care of you,’ he mentioned earlier? You supposed he would never wash you in the shower, so this would have to be it. You swallowed and fell into them, feeling his arm wrap you close to him so you lied nearly on your stomach, face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulders. His arm lied around your neck, the other near your elbow on the arm that sprawled on his chest. Oh, hello? What is this?

Ah. This is the quote-on-quote, attention he promised as a fiancé. His eyes remained closed as you stared. How forced was this? You wondered if he hated it, if he saw it was succumbing to your wishes, but it was unlikely. Perhaps it was him showing the physical love outside of sex that you lacked thinking it would keep you from having another outburst as you did before. Him keeping his side of the compromise so you would keep yours.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes before you thought too hard about his actions. The more you thought about it, the more—and less—real it all became, but if he was offering more conventional couple things: cuddling, dates, attention, you would not pose another argument.

“So, no dog?” you whispered.

#yandere light yagami #yandere light yagami x reader #yandere death note #light yagami x reader #reader insert #yandere reader insert #yandere x you #yandere x reader #uh oh spaghettio #tw: yandere #tw yandere

929 notes · View notes

thathopelessromantic · 3 years ago

Text

Reckless Good (6/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Fic Rating: Explicit Chapter Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku Note: Thanks again for your amazing support so far! I really appreciate all of you and your comments have been making my weeks since posting <3 This fic will be going on a short hiatus...I'm not sure how long it will be but July has been shockingly busy this year and has only continued to get crazier so I need a little more time to write more of this fic

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Beginning/Chapter One: (x) Previous Chapter: (X) TDDKBB2021 Companion Art: (X)

It’s been three days since the debriefing, and Shouto hasn’t been able to think about much else besides the weirdness of everything that happened in the meeting. Even now, standing under the scalding spray of his shower, he’s going through the motions, but his mind is in the hallway outside the conference room with Ingenium.

“I’m sorry about lying to you regarding Architect,” Ingenium had said solemnly. They’ve grown and their costumes had both changed since then, but without his helmet on, head bent to discuss something quietly, Shouto was reminded of the in-class exercises they used to do in high school. Off to the side in a hallway, as if creating a strategy. Somehow adult-Ingenium had gotten even more serious than his high school counterpart. “I know it was wrong to mislead you, but I knew he meant no harm. I knew he could help with Kou.”

“How?” Shouto had asked, but even then he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“…I’ve worked with him before,” Ingenium admitted. “I know the law, but he…he just wants to help people. And he does good hero work.”

Ingenium couldn’t say afterwards if he thought Architect would still somehow help the case. He knew he would want to, but with more people involved, and more people who knew he had been there before, it would be harder. Shouto can’t articulate exactly why, but somehow knowing he might be what brings more scrutiny towards Architect makes him feel…guilty? It’s not his fault that he didn’t know, nor is it his fault Architect is technically doing something illegal, but he feels guilty anyways.

Shouto’s phone chimes just as he steps out of the shower. Even before he checks it, he knows it’s a new text from Midoriya. While Shouto has thought of little else but the weirdness that had transpired at the debriefing for the last three days, Midoriya has acted as if it never happened. He had been quiet the rest of the day afterwards, but the next day Midoriya had picked up their text chat where they had left off as if nothing had happened. The few times Shouto tried to broach the topic of Midoriya’s behavior at the debriefing, his contacts with heroes, the vigilante Architect, anything from the debriefing, all he got was an abrupt subject change or radio silence for a few hours. After a day and a half of the back and forth, Shouto gave up pushing the subject. For now.

Shouto slings a towel around his hips and grabs his phone off the counter. There’s a new picture attached to the message. Midoriya’s scarred hand holds a large navy book out in front of the camera. The sidewalk serving as a background and the blurred edges of the image suggests he was walking somewhere as he took the picture.

I found a copy of the book!! The text underneath reads.

Shouto can’t make out any title in the picture, but he knows what book it is anyways. There was only one they had really discussed in-depth that would warrant such an excited text. It was an early study of dual quirks. Apparently, according to Midoriya, some of the information and conclusions they came to is now outdated but it is still considered one of the best introductory texts for understanding how dual quirks come about with inheritance. He had been suggesting it to Shouto practically since they had started their text conversation.

Another text comes in before Shouto can come up with a reply.

I can keep this copy in my office, if you would like to come by for it sometime.

Shouto wouldn’t mind going by the professor’s office again. It wasn’t that far out of his way, and it would be a good excuse to see him and talk to him some more – either about quirks, or whatever the hell was going on at the debriefing in an environment he can’t escape so easily. But as he mentally goes through his schedule thinking of a time he might be able to get there, it would be at least another week, if not two.

Shouto grimaces, running a hand over his face.

between normal wrk nd this new case itll be a while…

Of course I understand you’re busy! Oh unless you wanted to read it sooner

Shouto glances at the time. He still has almost two and a half hours before his next shift starts. It would be enough time. Probably. Depending on how long it takes to get Midoriya to agree. He has an idea but he knows Midoriya isn’t going to like it.

are u in musutafu now?

Yes. Of course! I could drop it off at your agency!

i was thinking just my apartment

Shouto puts his phone down to find something to wear. He doesn’t usually wear normal clothes under his uniform, but he figures he has a little while before he needs to change into it. He expects to get a flurry of messages protesting his suggestion as he finds and pulls on a pair of sweatpants, but a full three minutes pass before his phone chimes with another message. It just reads: what, lacking even Midoriya’s usual proper grammar and capitalization.

Shouto snorts. He knew he wasn’t going to like it.

im at the hospital on guard today and ill be out of the office the next few days. it would be quicker

That does set off the flurry of texts he expected the first time, Midoriya insisting that wasn’t necessary and he didn’t need to read it that quickly and a few that just said no a few times. The texts are still coming in, the notification that he’s typing still lit up on the screen, when Shouto presses the phone icon next to his name and starts a call.

The phone starts to ring. And then continues to ring for so long, Shouto thinks he’s going to go to voicemail, when Midoriya suddenly answers. There’s a shuffle on the other line for a moment.

“Entro-er, Todoro…hello?” Midoriya says.

“Hello, Midoriya,” Shouto replies.

Shouto’s simple greeting seems to knock Midoriya out of his stupor, because he immediately jumps back into his protests, picking right back up where he left off in his texts. Shouto waits until he has to stop to take a breath.

“I figured you would really frown upon me texting you my address, so I thought I’d call. Do you have something to write with?”

Midoriya sputters for a moment before he sighs. “You…yeah, go ahead.”

Shouto blinks in surprise. He really expected more of a protest than that. Still, he rattles off the address before Midoriya comes to his senses and changes his mind. Midoriya has him repeat it once, just to be sure he copied everything down correctly.

“Okay. I guess I will see you in a few minutes,” Midoriya says, sounding resigned.

Shouto almost laughs at the tone. “You don’t actually have to bring it to me if it’s any trouble. I can get it from the office eventually.”

“No, I don’t mind and it’s not that far out of the way actually,” Midoriya admits. “I’m a little concerned by your complete disregard for privacy or self-preservation but otherwise, it’s no trouble.”

“‘A lack of self-preservation and privacy’ is pretty much in my job description.”

Midoriya sighs. There’s some quiet mumbling Shouto can’t make out through the phone before Midoriya seems to give up on arguing the point for the moment and says his goodbye.

Shouto plugs his phone in by the bed to charge until he has to leave. Monarch and Momo still haven’t let go of the last time his phone died while he was on duty and he’s sure even being away from the agency for the next few days won’t save him from their ire if it happens again.

Shouto is still toweling off his hair when there’s a knock on his door. He glances at the clock on his wall, but even without the visual confirmation, he knows it has only been a few minutes since his call with Midoriya had ended. It was unlikely he found his apartment that quickly. He throws the towel over the bar in the bathroom and grabs a t-shirt on his way out of his room.

He opens the front door, expecting to see one of his neighbors in the hall. Instead, it is Midoriya staring at him from the other side of the door. He looks almost the exact same as the first time they had met with his thin, crooked wire frame glasses and oversized leather satchel hanging at his side. Though he had replaced his ill-fitting cardigan with a Froppy sweatshirt and a jean jacket over a button-up. Midoriya’s eyes scan over him quickly, pausing briefly at his middle before jumping back to his face and then to the space next to his head.

“Hello,” Midoriya manages quietly.

Shouto tugs the bottom of his shirt the rest of the way down.

“Hello. I…wasn’t expecting you to find the place so quickly,” he replies simply.

“Um, yes, it was closer than I realized too,” Midoriya finally looks him in the eye again, only to look away a moment later to bow his head. “I’m sorry, I should have announced myself somehow.”

“It’s fine, Midoriya. I’m glad you didn’t have to go too far out of your way.”

They stand in an awkward silence for a moment before they both seem to remember themselves and try to speak again.

Midoriya fumbles with the leather bag at his side, searching for the book. “Right, I’m sure you need to finish getting ready for work-” he starts to say.

At the same time, Shouto steps back, opening his door further. “Would you like to come in?”

Midoriya stares at him in surprise for a moment before his gaze jumps to something behind Shouto, brow furrowing.

“Todoroki, do you live alone?”

“Um, yes?” Shouto glances over his shoulder but doesn’t see whatever it was that Midoriya must have seen.

He turns back around, but Midoriya is still staring hard at something in the distance.

“Midoriya, what did-"

A loud crash of breaking glass cuts off the rest of Shouto’s question. Midoriya reacts a second before him, grabbing Shouto’s arm and throwing them both down the hall, away from his door as flames erupt in the apartment behind him.

They tumble to the ground. Shouto lands hard on his back as they roll for a moment, the floor below him and Midoriya landing heavily on top of him knocking the air from his lungs. One of Midoriya’s hands cushioned his head in the fall, but he pulls it back quickly as if Shouto burned him.

Midoriya quickly lifts himself up, carefully checking Shouto over. “Are you alright?”

Shouto nods, not yet ready to try speaking again. The sound of a vicious fire cracks behind them and the smell of smoke is already starting to fill the hallway. Whatever was thrown has a fast-moving fire and Shouto can feel the heat even from a few feet away.

“Will your fire alarm alert the authorities?”

Shouto pushes himself to a sitting position . “Don’t have a fire alarm,” he chokes out. They really need to move. “They go off too easily.”

Midoriya stares at him for a moment like he’s lost his mind before realization dawns. “Right your quirk would probably make that a pain. Okay, I’ll call for help. But we need to get as many people out as we can before they get here.”

Shouto climbs to his feet, using the wall to hold himself up for the moment. Everything seems to feel okay, so he doesn’t think he’s injured, just winded. Midoriya looks worried but he still scrambles to his feet a moment later.

“I can get my upstairs neighbors out,” Shouto says.

“I’ll help everyone below evacuate,” Midoriya offers before Shouto has barely finished speaking. He takes off for the stairwell, glancing back at the last second. “Be careful, Todoroki.”

Shouto stares after him for a moment, incredulous. ‘I’m the pro in this situation,’ he wants to remind Midoriya. ‘And probably marginally more fire-resistant than you.’ “You too,” is all he manages instead as the stairwell door swings shut behind Midoriya. Faintly, Shouto remembers another time he watched a civilian run head-long into trouble, but he brushes off the otherwise long-forgotten memory. It was so long ago, he’s not sure what dredged up the old memory, but dwelling on it won’t help anyone right now.

Shouto forces himself away from the door and his desire to go after the apparently reckless, mysterious, crazy-overachieving civilian he just let run into danger and heads for his closest neighbor. There are only three apartments on each floor. The one next to him has been empty for months, and usually both of the Fukudas were at work during this time of day, but he pounds on the door just to be safe, calling for them both. Smoke is finally beginning to fill the hallway and he knows it will only be another minute or two before the fire itself begins to crawl its way out of the apartment too.

Shouto breaks through the door, calling for either of the Fukudas to answer as he darts through the handful of rooms laid out in a mirror of his own familiar apartment. Satisfied that it is empty, he goes back to the hall heading for the stairs. He can feel his right side rapidly growing colder as his quirk tries to regulate his body temperature. The overheated air burns his already sore chest as he runs.

Shouto is already shouting as he reaches the next floor, hoping to alert as many of his neighbors as he can. One door opens as he throws himself down the hall, an older woman looking at him suspiciously through the crack in her door. For once he’s thankful for his unique appearance because he sees recognition dawn on her a moment later, even without his hero suit.

“A fire started on the floor below, I’m trying to evacuate everyone on this floor and the next, if you have anyone home with you, get them!”

The woman nods in understanding, throwing her door open and running back into the apartment calling for someone. Shouto goes to the next closest apartment, banging on the door and calling for anyone who might be inside. The door to the apartment next door opens and a man looks out.

“What is all the racket about? They went to their parents for the week, no one is in there.”

“The apartment is empty right now?”

The man glares at him, but Shouto pushes on before he can start an argument with him. The first woman comes out of her apartment with her grandson and a small dog in tow. “Sir, there is a fire on the floor below. We’re evacuating everyone.”

The man still looks like he wants to argue, but a moment later the sound of sirens grows louder as help arrives on the scene and that seems to be enough to convince him to cooperate. The three tenants follow him up the stairs to the last floor. Two of the three doors are already open, the tenants looking out obviously wondering what all the noise is about. The woman and her grandson greet one of the two women, immediately filling them in on what’s going on. Shouto goes to the last door.

“She’s at work,” one of the women calls to him. “She lives alone. Except for a cat.”

Shouto nods his thanks for the information. “I’ll go in to get the cat. Do either of you have a window that faces the front of the building?”

The other woman raises her hand. “I do!”

“Please take everyone into your apartment, clear a space in front of the window if necessary and I’ll be there in just a moment.” Shouto instructs. He waits just a moment to make sure everyone is complying before he forces the last door open. The cat in question makes itself known immediately, rushing to the door crying for attention before it realizes he is not their owner. The cat turns tail and darts deeper into the apartment.

Cursing, Shouto uses ice to create a small blockade in the hall that leads to the bedroom and bathroom, limiting the cat’s escape routes as he darts after it, sliding across the hardwood floor leading into the hallway. He catches himself on the wall just as the cat skids to a halt before the ice, trying to turn quickly but the floor is more slippery than its accustomed to and Shouto manages to grab it as it struggles to find its footing. He gets a few heavy scratches across his arms for his trouble, and the cat does its best to escape his hold, but he manages to get it out of the apartment. He wishes he had his tool belt on him, where he might have something that could contain the cat better, and make it easier to transport, but even if the fire-resistant fabric had lasted this long, it wasn’t worth it to try and get back into his apartment for it.

He rejoins his neighbors in the other apartment. Along with the three from the first floor, there are the two women from this floor, one of whom clutches a still-sleeping baby to her chest. From the window he can see the ambulance and two fire engines that have already arrived. And based on the sounds in the distance, the police and at least one more ambulance would not be far behind. Someone offers to take the disgruntled cat from him as he throws open the window.

Smoke is billowing from a window on a lower floor, obscuring his line of sight for a moment as the winds shift. Shouto swears under his breath, he can feel his neighbors growing anxious behind him, but he knows he needs a clear shot of the ground for this to work. It takes a few minutes for the view to clear enough for him to see a good landing place. By then a few people from the lower floors have started to evacuate, and he can see the first responders meeting them as they come out. He can’t tell from here if Midoriya is with them yet, though he has a feeling the answer is no.

Pushing his concerns aside for the moment, Shouto takes a deep breath to focus. Even after all these years of playing catch up, he still has a much better control of his right side than his left, but the overheated air is already putting a strain on his right side as it keeps his body cool. He creates an ice ramp, or perhaps more accurately a slide, from the window to the ground besides one of the fire engines. It’s as far as he dares to go to keep the slide from being too steep without also becoming too thin. He reinforces the part connected to the building and as much of the underside as he can from where he is to keep the fire from melting it down.

He turns back to his gathered neighbors. The adults gathered look unsure at best, if not down right afraid, but the young boy looks excited.

“It’ll be cold going down, but you should be perfectly safe,” Shouto promises. “Who’s first?”

Shouto helps the first woman up to the window. Once she is down safe, the woman with her baby goes, climbing up by herself first before Shouto hands the infant off to her. The young boy volunteers next before his grandmother can stop him, scrambling up to the window and then asking Shouto to hand the dog up to him. The older woman goes next, clutching the terrified cat tightly to her chest as she disappears down the slide.

Shouto waits until the older man safely reaches the bottom after her before he prepares to go down himself. Taking one last look back before he drops, he sees the smoke begin to curl around the edges of the apartment door.

The fire chief stops Shouto first once he’s down, thanking him for his help evacuating the civilians and asking about the conditions inside. Shouto gives as much information as he can about the fire and where it started. He ignores the concerned expression the chief gives him as he explains how it began. He knows it seems like an attack, and a targeted attack at that, but he doesn’t want to focus on it just yet. Eventually, the chief figures he’s gotten as much as from Shouto as he’s going to for the moment and sends him off towards the paramedics.

Shouto dodges them for the moment, finding the neighbors he helped down first to make sure everyone actually made it down unharmed. Everyone seems okay, the baby somehow still blissfully asleep and the young boy excitedly asks Shouto if he can go down his ice slide again some other time. One of the first responders found a carrying case for the cat until they could get ahold of its actual owner. He recognizes a few of the other neighbors gathered around from the lower floors. A few have shock blankets on and one person is perched in an ambulance with a paramedic attached to an oxygen machine, but there don’t seem to be any major injuries.

Midoriya is arguing with a paramedic, insisting someone else is in more pressing need of care when Shouto finally approaches one of the ambulances.

“What’s that saying about doctors being the worst patients?” Shouto asks.

Midoriya jumps, startled by his arrival, though he quick recovers from his shock to glare at Shouto.

The paramedic throws his hands up. “Entropy, please try and talk some sense into him. This is the fourth time he’s refused care.” The paramedic turns back to Midoriya and waves a warning finger at him. “I’m running out of other patients to look at.” He warns before storming off.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Shouto asks once they’re alone. Midoriya mostly looks okay, his glasses are missing and he’s a little sooty and disheveled, but Shouto figures everyone probably looks about the same in that regard.

“Nothing,” Midoriya starts to say as someone nearby loudly clears their throat over him. Midoriya scowls. “I think I might have landed on my hand funny earlier, but it’s fine, probably just sore.”

Shouto frowns. “You should at least have someone look at it, just in case.”

Midoriya opens his mouth to argue but a ringing phone cuts him off. He fumbles with his phone for a moment, struggling to pull it out of a pocket with his opposite hand. He winces as he finally pulls it out.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“It’s a video call.” Midoriya doesn’t elaborate anymore. He shifts around before he answers, holding the phone up at an angle that keeps his arm and the ambulance mostly out of the camera. He pastes on a bright smile. “Hi, Eri.”

“Oh Izuku, are you okay? I heard you were involved in a fire. Are you injured? What happened?” Dr. Aizawa asks in a rush, her worried face fills the screen. Red eyes move quickly, obviously taking note of Midoriya’s disheveled apperance.

“I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. We’re not sure exactly how it started yet,” he lies. “But no one was hurt.”

“Where are you? I’ll go-”

“No,” Midoriya cuts her off. “I’m fine and I’ll come by the hospital later so you can check me over yourself if you’re really that worried, but I’m fine. And I want to make sure someone is keeping an eye out for Kou.”

“You think this has to do with her?” Dr. Aizawa asks, surprised.

“I’m not sure yet, I would just feel better if I knew there was extra security around her.”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “Okay, Izuku. I’ll make sure someone has an eye on her at all times. I’ll call you later to check up on you.” She says. “And I’ll know if you don’t let the paramedics check on you so don’t even try it this time.” The call ends before Midoriya can refute her last statement.

“I’m supposed to be taking the next shift on the hospital,” Shouto realizes. “I still had another two hours before my shift began when you arrived, but I should let someone know.”

Midoriya offers Shouto his phone. Before Shouto can step away, the paramedic returns with his arms crossed.

“Ready to cooperate?”

Midoriya looks miserably over his shoulder at Shouto but lets the paramedic force him into a seat.

Shouto calls Momo on her private number.

“This is Creati.” Momo answers stiffly after a single ring.

“Momo, it’s Shouto. My phone is…I don’t have my phone right now. There was just a fire-”

“At your apartment building. I know I just got the alert. Are you okay? You were still home, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m fine. No one was injured, but they’re still putting out the fire and I’m pretty sure my apartment is gone. It started there.”

Momo takes a long time to reply. “Your quirk?” She finally asks, but she sounds like she already knows the answer.

“No. I think…It seems crazy, but…” Shouto hesitates. He lives on the third floor, but crazier things have probably happened to him. “I think someone threw something through my window to start it.”

Momo curses under her breath. “I was afraid of that. You haven’t heard from anyone else, yet, have you? There was another attack, across town. Not a fire, but a building came down. A few civilians were hurt, and…”

Shouto tries not to lose his patience with Momo as she hesitates.

Finally she sighs. “The latest report from the police just came over the radio. Mr. Smith was one of the only heroes in the area. He was severely injured while helping trapped civilians. Paramedics rushed him to the hospital a few minutes ago. No one’s sure of his status yet.”

“Fuck.” Midoriya was right. “This is about Kou. The girl from before you have to-”

“I know your schedule, Shouto.” Momo interrupts. “As soon as I got the alert I let them know you might have been targeted. Someone has already been assigned to your guard shift and they’ve added extra security to the hospital.”

Shouto feels himself relax for the first time since the fire began. If there’s one thing he can count on, it’s Momo to be on top of things. “Thank you.”

Momo replies with a quiet hum of acknowledgement. “Is there anything else I can do for you right now? Do you need anyone else at the scene?”

“No, everything seems pretty well in hand for now. But if you could let my mother and sister know, that would help. They’ll see it on the news eventually, but even if my phone survived the fire it will probably be a while before I can get it to contact them myself.”

“Of course, I’ll make sure they know you’re alright. Can I contact you on this number again?”

Shouto glances back at Midoriya. He’s, miraculously, still sitting in the ambulance doors letting the paramedic wrap his hand, but he also managed to call over one of the firefighters to discuss something about the attack. “Yeah, you can use this number again.”

“Let me know when you learn something more.”

“I will.”

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Shouto.” Momo says just before she ends the call.

Me too, Shouto thinks, looking around at all the people gathered in front of the apartment. He and Midoriya had managed to get everyone out, but if Shouto had been alone he might not have been quick enough. Hell, if he hadn’t been answering the door at just the right time, he might not have been able to save anyone at all. He would probably be right beside Mr. Smith in the hospital. I just wish it could be said for everyone.

Shouto returns to the ambulance, passing the cell back to Midoriya. Midoriya takes one look at his face and knows.

“You heard about Mr. Smith too?”

Shouto nods. “Creati already sent word to the hospital for extra security and for someone to cover my shift watching Kou.”

Midoriya cracks a small smile. Other than the one he wore to briefly pacify Dr. Aizawa, it’s the first smile Shouto thinks he’s seen from him all day. And bizarrely, it puts him at ease for a moment, lifting some of the weight of the attack.

“Remind me to send her a huge thank you gift when we finally get out of here,” Midoriya says, and even though Momo is just doing her job in her own efficient, overachiever way, he knows Midoriya is serious.

Midoriya moves over, offering the extra space for Shouto to sit down. Another paramedic almost immediately descends on them, finally checking Shouto over for shock, smoke inhalation, over-extended quirk usage, and other injuries. Other than the handful of cat scratches that they clean and bandage, he comes out with a clean bill of health. Midoriya is comparing their injuries, complaining that his “bruised wrist” didn’t need more bandaging than Shouto’s cuts, but while his tone is light, his eyes keep focusing on something in the distance, his attention obviously not on their conversation. Shouto can practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he thinks.

The fire chief eventually joins them as the fire dies down and more of the firefighters exit the building for the last time. “Thank you again, Entropy, for your help evacuating tenants before we arrived. And…Midoriya, was it?”

“Dr. Midoriya,” Shouto corrects when Midoriya simply nods. Midoriya elbows him in the side, but Shouto ignores the jab.

“Dr. Midoriya, thank you for your help as well. That was very brave of you. A number of the tenants I’ve spoken with were extremely grateful for your assistance.”

Midoriya shrugs a shoulder, as if he had truly done nothing of note. “I’m just glad I was in the right place to help, at the right time.”

“Do we know anything else about the fire yet? Or the building?” Shouto asks.

“The fire is mostly out, we just have a few more people inside checking for any hidden fires or areas that weren’t extinguished completely the first time. As for the building…it will take a little while longer to properly assess all the damage but the third floor where it started, and the second and fourth floors, took the most damage. At the very least it will be a day or two before it’s safe for the tenants to move between the floors to get their things.” The chief explains.

Shouto expected about as much, honestly he was prepared to hear worse, but it doesn’t make it easier. “Thank you for letting us know.”

The chief nods. “Of course.”

Shouto turns back to Midoriya as the chief walks away. “Can I borrow your phone one more time?”

Midoriya politely, but unnecessarily, turns away as Shouto crafts a text to Momo.

the tenants will b displaced for at least a few days. can we do smthing abt accommodations for them?

It only takes Momo a few seconds to reply.

Of course. Send me the number of people and their contact information and I’ll take care of everything.

A second text comes in almost immediately.

Will you need something too? You could always stay with me and Kyouka. Or I’m sure your mother would be happy to have you for a few days.

Shouto stares at the message for a moment. “Shit.” He hadn’t been thinking about himself. Obviously he couldn’t stay in his apartment. But he wouldn’t want to be housed anywhere near his neighbors, in case whoever attacked tried again. But that would put his friends, or family, in the same line of risk.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya finally turns back, looking over Shouto’s shoulder. “Was there another attack?”

Shouto shakes his head. “No, sorry to worry you. Momo just reminded me I’ll need a place to stay for a while. I don’t want to risk a hotel or some public housing, if they try to attack again…”

Midoriya doesn’t need him to finish his thought before he nods in understanding. “And you don’t want to stay with your friends or family for the same reason. There’s too much of a risk they will try to target you again.”

Shouto groans, running a hand over his face. Maybe Midoriya was onto something with all his concerns about ‘privacy and self-preservation.’

“Stay with me.”

Shouto’s head shoots up. He thinks he had to have misheard, but the serious expression on Midoriya’s face suggests otherwise.

“What?”

“You can stay with me. No, you should stay with me.”

Shouto feels like he was just transported to a parallel universe. He was actually fairly confident his role as the only one to suggest ridiculous things in this newly-started relationship was already established.

“I-No. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m insisting.”

Shouto ignores him. “I can stay in the dorms at the agency.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes. “That’s an extremely short term solution, at best. And a huge risk. If these villains have kept close enough tabs on you to find your personal apartment and attack it, it would be child’s play to figure out you were staying in your office, with a publicly available address, and target it too.”

“You would still be at risk,” Shouto says, baffled as to how Midoriya somehow managed to miss that very important fact. “The same way Momo and Kyouka or my family would be, I can’t put you in that position.”

“Todoroki,” Midoriya says, deadly serious. “You are not a very social hero. It is common knowledge who you are close enough with to consider a friend. And your family has been in the spotlight for years. Staying with any of them is an obvious and dangerous choice. I’m a nobody. No one knows me, no one knows you know me. Also my house is…private, secluded. Even if someone does eventually figure out you’re there, it will take much longer than any of the other places. Enough time that we can come up with another plan.”

Midoriya reaches over and takes the cell out of his hands. “Now, unless you have a more convincing argument, I will text…” he looks at the phone for a long moment as he trails off. Shouto has no idea how he can casually insist on Shouto staying with him and in the same breath be visibly uncomfortable texting a different hero. “I will text…Creati and tell her you have a place to stay. You should go collect everyone else’s information for her.”

Shouto stares at Midoriya in disbelief while he pointedly ignores him and struggles to craft a text to Momo. He only finally moves when Midoriya all but shoves him off the ambulance step, claiming to be unable to type while he was being watched.

“I…can’t make sense of you,” Shouto finally admits. Midoriya has baffled him basically since the moment they met and he’s beginning to think he might never fully understand him.

Midoriya looks up from his phone with a curious expression, as if surprised by Shouto’s admission, before it transforms into a smile Shouto has never seen before, but that he wants to pull from him again and again.

“I like to think that’s just a part of my charm.”

#bnha #mha #tddk #tododeku #tododeku big bang 2021 #midoriya izuku #todorki shouto #fic #rita writes #7.16.21 #fic: reckless good

3 notes · View notes

sapphire-weapon · 4 years ago

Note

It's refreshing knowing your thoughts on the executives post. Though are we getting the reeve post? Or nay? Now im curious about what you said hes the one person rufus could refer as a friend

ok so what i can do is just give the general direction that my thoughts are going right now

bc like i said my thoughts on this aren’t fully formed yet

but here’s what we know:

1: reeve starts to gain respect for rufus in BC when rufus demands accountability from his father

2: reeve has always been on the side of veld + the turks over papa shinra’s administration, per BC

3: BC confirms that rufus was the one who approached reeve about using cait sith to spy on the party in OG

4: in OG, heidegger and scarlet do not know that reeve is doing this spy job for rufus using cait sith (this didn’t translate well in english, but in japanese he gets caught because he uses a different dialect for cait sith vs how he talks normally and scarlet notices)

5: the above means that reeve and rufus were working on this project together privately and do so throughout the entirety of OG

6: in CoS, it’s revealed that reeve called veld and the underground turks to save tseng’s life at the temple of the ancients, not shinra

7: in OG, reeve (through cait sith) calls out the party as being the reason why rufus’s plan to blow up meteor failed

8: reeve sees rufus’s redemption as genuine and readily accepts his help and his money for the WRO, despite cloud rebuking and refusing both

9: reeve defends rufus without even being asked about him in DoC when vincent is grilling him about deepground. “i doubt rufus was ever briefed on the project.”

10: reeve goes out of his way to protect rufus’s identity in DoC from vincent

11: at no point in the compilation does reeve capture rufus’s ire -- not even when reeve is out publicly trashing shinra in order to build up the WRO (which is interesting considering how pissed the fuck off rufus was at tseng for doing the same thing in a much more subdued and subtle manner and only to cloud and the party)

wrt 4-6: there’s no indication anywhere in the text that reeve reported to rufus first, got nowhere, and then turned to veld. all of these details together make me feel like reeve knew rufus well enough to know that he had no interest in saving tseng’s life and would have readily left him to die, so reeve immediately kneejerked to veld instead.

and the fact that reeve knows rufus well enough to make a split second decision like that makes me feel like they’re close.

at the very least, rufus is closer to reeve than he is to any of the turks. this could also help to explain #8. reeve knows this man. they’re close. and when rufus approached him, reeve didn’t seem to think twice. he could see the change plain as day.

#9 and #10 together helps fuel my theory that rufus is secretly actually running the WRO, which is something that can’t and won’t happen without a sincere level of trust running between them.

#7 is interesting too, because what cait sith actually says is “i wonder if we were wrong” re: giving rufus and shinra such a hard time. everything in the list after that seems to indicate to me that, while rufus is repaying his debt to the planet, reeve is repaying his debt to rufus by seeing him as the good man and the good leader that he actually is. basically, he’s doubling back on #1 and realizing that his first instinct was the correct one.

now, none of this is to say that i think of reeve and rufus as actual friends. but it’s the closest thing that rufus gets to having one in the entire compilation.

i said in a previous post that aeris states re: tseng “there are only a handful of people in the world who really know me” and that that number for rufus shinra is zero.

i now am starting to think that that number is actually one. and it’s reeve tuesti. reeve knows rufus. and while they might not actually be legitimate friends, it’s the most intimate relationship that rufus has with anyone in the entire canon.

and regarding #11, i’m just gonna say: when rufus has to turn to someone he can trust with private information, he turns to reeve every time. rufus trusts this man with sensitive information over all others.

and for someone like rufus shinra, who deals solely in sensitive information, who’s the most walled-off and emotionally guarded person in the entire FF7 universe -- for that man to trust reeve with his secrets, for that man to be open enough with him that reeve can make a judgement call like in #6 -- then that means that reeve tuesti knows rufus shinra better than possibly anyone else on the planet. and rufus wholly trusts him with those sides of himself.

it speaks volumes to their relationship. it’s something i’d really like to see explored in remake.

ETA: also reeve never badmouths rufus in the entire compilation the way that he shittalks: papa shinra, heidegger, scarlet, hojo

so. there’s that.

#final fantasy vii #rufus shinra #reeve tuesti #Anonymous

47 notes · View notes

furymint · 4 years ago

Photo

2020 Creator Reflection

Pick a favorite piece for each month to celebrate the year! Reflection under the cut.

March: i talked abt this one here so hell yeah, i love me some angst and revving up elliot’s fatal flaw to ruin his life

April: Oh God, Nol Antagonized The Feral Possum Too And Now Everything Is Going To Become Bad. it was really hard for me to commit and let nol be the idiot he is to one of my friends but im rly glad i managed it. i expected a lot of tauntness in his character from removing him from ishgard but i wasn't completely sure how i would express it beyond his fragmented thoughts. he never says or thinks quite what he wants to in the order he intends. his impulsivity is damning here n i like that a lot

May: next year for sure im gonna write at least two clo stories. i dont like that he's That Aesthetic Cat Boy on this blog when he's my vehicle for horror. his voice is also one i haven't figured out yet so id rly like to get that done. shout out to the little pharos in the back.....ilu

June (one): trench warfare trench warfare trench warfare, aka me rewriting what square was too cowardly to put thought into, plus a good dose of sucker punching nol. its much overdue but im working on another sb thing too based on brave's IR so i rly rly wanna finish that soon next year.

June (two): i already talked abt this one here but noise good boys cute

July (one): this one reminded me that oh. yeah. i CAN photoshop things if i have a vision. bc halone knows i havent in a long time. im a bitch for arr and i love the calamity, but i dont write much abt my boys' childhoods so never get to directly address it. i rly love the one of elliot, who is definitely not eating a piece of bread

July (two): this bitch wrote FLUFF and POETRY in ONE STORY so thats p cool. i rly like elliot getting smacked by the piano.

August: spinny. the combination of cute pastels and nols dead anger face is p funny tbh

September (one): i looooove showing nol's perception against elliot's. nol has an interesting relationship w eli's room, too, as a place of comfort but also massive change, so it's always fun to get him to interact w it. still, elliot operates almost mockingly here--id like to change that vibe bc while his actions are deliberate, they're not cruel.

September (two): this one was fun to write and fun to read. I've missed writing nol n eli in that awkward period of their early friendship a lot n this let me revisit it. their fondness for each other is clear but theyre evidently not quite *used*to each other. also "a fair trade, he considered, as nol manhandled him through the window" still makes me laugh.

October: FRUMPY CLOTHES FRUMPY CLOTHES FRUMPY CLOTHES. v happy w this outfit. good clothes this year even if i didnt play very much at all.

November: i loooooove writing jos and nol. they have so much tension its beautiful. mentor characters are one of my favorite ways to push another chara to do smth uncomfortable, so jos' prodding is the perfect combination of understanding and advice to get nol to reflect on what he needs to. even if that's calling elliot a bitch

-------

i didnt get to do anything for three of the months this year, which is kind of weird for me, but also. its whatever. bc this is 2020.

i rly didnt get to create much at all tbh for 2020 reasons, but also for job reasons--i v happily began working at a public library halfway through this year. adjusting to that time sink was p difficult.

i also really. didn’t play ffxiv much. i did start playing a couple other video games tho, like animal crossing and a few zeldas, and i started tw3 a few weeks ago and im enjoying it. ill take that as progress, too

im working really hard on starting a book blog so i dont expect to return to the game very quickly next year. but i really miss my characters and my friends so i def want to put more time into ffxiv. i have an industrial revolutions wip that i should be done with in the next month, plus another marriage plot wip that i can begin tying together too.

i would really like if i could finish the rp plot for marriage plot im cooking and contribute it to my fc a little. who doesnt need a little more ishgardian drama in their life, duh,

but we made it! to the end of the year! even if it feels lonely and the festivity is really out of me, im glad to move into 2021 and take the little good parts with me.

past reflections: 2017 | 2018 | 2019

#i didnt take this as seriously as past years bc im not feelin it #next year im def gonna create more #brianna babbles

4 notes · View notes

halorocks1214 · 5 years ago

Text

ბარტერი (a Thunderbirds fic)

Chapter 1: გატაცებული

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3892

Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.

i make no promises for this fic. the upload schedule will be totally willy nilly because i havent really been feeling the whole writing thing and because of my other fics and projects and irl shit. i hate to admit it but im on the fence on whether or not this will actually be completed, BUT, i still am surprisingly proud of this so im posting it anyway. hope yall enjoy!

“Okay, what’s the dealio?”

Gordon easily skipped around his younger brother with a slightly faux-naive voice. They were currently out in the field, damn tsunamis not being picked up by the D.A.R.T. soon enough, and while Gordon knew better than to talk about personal things during a rescue, it was the first time in a while he even had the chance to talk to Alan.

Who was currently more forlorn than Gordon was aware he could be if the way he watched his toes kick whatever small rock they strutted past was any indication. It took a moment for Alan to register his older brother’s question, but when he did, he blinked a few times before looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

Gordon was going to play this slyly. Treat it as banter, not an interrogation. Gordon idly leaned over and picked up a stick. He started to twirl it, never meeting Alan’s gaze directly, “I don’t know, you seem off. Just wanted to see if it was anything I could help with.”

Alan went back to kicking the pebbles, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said ‘this was a big deal but I don’t want you to know that’, “Oh, sorry, just tired. It’s not my fault I was having a wonderful nap in the closet only for John to make me tumble out of it due to the alarms. The fact that we’ve been out here for God knows how many hours doesn’t help.”

Gordon’s chuckles at that statement were slightly fake. Alan was hiding something, and if Gordon had to imitate Scott, well, then it was only Alan’s fault, “Yeah-huh. Sounds good.” He focused on the stick, pretending it was a wand and waving it around as such, “Decided on a college yet?”

Alan still didn’t look up, and Gordon could hear the noises of rocks getting kicked and traveling a foot or two. Alan answered him monotonously, “Uh, not really. I’ve narrowed it down to three. I haven’t brought them up with anyone other than Grandma though since the last thing I want to do is create a World War between our older brothers about which one is better.”

Gordon snorted but then got serious again. Dammit, Gordon, you are not letting him worm his way out of this. Again, “If I promise Scout’s Honor will you tell me them?” He cheekily grinned at Alan, which got a small smile out of the younger brother. Nice, getting closer. Now Gordon was doing that rubber pencil trick with the stick, way more immersed with the visual illusion than he probably should be, “Hmm, is it girl trouble?”

Alan rolled his eyes, but Gordon could tell he was getting annoyed, which meant the older brother was getting close. Alan kept his facade up, crunching a stick underneath his feet as he started walking just a little faster, “If you mean ‘Kayo chased me for accidentally spilling paint on Shadow’s nose’ then yes, I’m having lots of girl trouble.”

Gordon winced wholeheartedly and sympathetically. He remembered when he accidentally tripped and spilled water all over the front of her one night. He wasn’t aware she was a fan of throwing them into the pool just as much as he was until that night. It was in annoyance, but still, Gordon considered it a similar hobby between them regardless, “Yeesh, sorry for bringing up traumatizing memories bro.” Squinting at the stick he was playing with, he put it over his lips like a faux-mustache, lightbulb dinging in his brain with joyful glee, “Boy trouble?”

Alan groaned at started walking way faster than Gordon. Once he was about three feet away from Gordon, he shouted while still facing forward so Gordon could hear him, “Oh my god, let it go, Gordon!”

Bingo, Gordon thought he hit the jackpot. Throwing the stick away and keeping his distance from Alan, his grin went ear to ear with excitement at what he thought was figuring it out, “Oh man, okay, wait, hang on, is it that Bear kid? The one Scott rescued for the umpteenth time last week? Or, wait, didn’t Conrad visit you up at ‘Five two weeks ago during your rotation?” Giggling, Gordon rubbed his hands together mischievously, “Allie, how dare you. Romantic or not, it’s my job to help you out with these things--”

Suddenly and abruptly, and shutting Gordon up, Alan turned around and glared at Gordon while his fists were haphazardly clenched at his hips, “Fine, Mr. Nosey, you wanna know? It’s about Dad, okay?!”

Well, there went any ability to joke in this situation. Gordon lost his smile completely and stared mindlessly at his younger brother, who was breathing heavily and still glaring, but Gordon could tell there was a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

Dad had been back for about two-and-a-half months now, and the Tracy family seemed to be settling into a new routine with him. Everyone was happy Jeff was back in one piece, none more so than Jeff than himself. They quickly figured out how to slowly integrate him back, starting with daily chores, reaching him having permission to help out with IR, and now they were getting ready to reintroduce him back into Tracy Industries.

The anxiety in Alan’s features was suddenly all Gordon could see in them, followed by Alan shaking his head and turning back around, “Shit-- forget I said anything, that’s not why--”

Before he could even think, Gordon shot his arm out to grab Alan by the wrist, his amber eyes wide with careful thought. He needed to think these words through. The idea that Alan was nervous regarding talking about his own dad was... “Allie… I know you didn’t have as much… time with him, but he’s your father too. You don’t have to hide any opinion about him for me, for us.”

Alan still wasn’t looking at Gordon, but the older brother definitely saw the tiny and hidden flinch the younger brother made at your father too. Gordon barely held back the sharp inhale he wanted to make. Okay, that was an entire suitcase, one he, unfortunately, couldn’t unpack right now (as much as he loathed to admit it that was a Scooter problem), so he focused the first problem he figured out, “Allie, are you upset Dad is back or?...”

That got Alan to turn around, “No! Jesus, Gordon, of course, I’m happy he’s back. The only reason I graduated right before we left was that Scott and John both told me to go do something while we waited because “the way you’re bouncing on your toes is going to burn a hole in the ground and Grandma won’t like that,” remember? I’m ecstatic he’s alive and back home.”

Letting Alan gently go, Gordon took a deep breath to reorganize his thoughts, “Okay, then what about Dad has got you so worked up?”

Alan was suddenly much younger than the fresh, getting-ready-to-go-to-college, young man Gordon saw this morning, “You remember that argument between Scotty and Dad, right? The one about five weeks ago that we shouldn’t have listened in on but did anyway?”

Gordon flinched, not wanting to remember that argument.

The two have made up since then, but it was a shock to just about everybody on the island, including John and Virgil, who the blondes nervously told the morning after so they could get some kind of reassurance the world wasn’t ending. In the Tracys’ quest to have their Fairytale Happily Ever After, it never occurred to them that their father might not like how they were running things.

Scott made a decision that didn’t sit well with the older man, and he let his son know that in tactless, Jeff Tracy fashion. Scott’s decision wasn’t the best per se, certainly not the worst, but he could’ve waited for some better options, but Jeff couldn’t just say that outright, that he was concerned about his son taking risks like that. He had to immediately jump to the idea that Scott’s leadership might be lacking suddenly.

It also didn’t help that Scott couldn’t just fucking say that, while he was sorry for being slightly rash, he didn’t like being undermined after years of successful leadership. He went straight for the fact that Jeff had been gone for the past eight years. Scott didn’t blame the man for it, God no, but the insinuation that Jeff wasn’t any better than Scott because of it stung everyone in the room. Because being reminded of the fact that Dad was technically a dead man for a big portion of all of their lives wasn’t bad enough.

Gordon forgot that Scott could be too much like Jeff for his own fucking good, as well as the fact that Scott did get it from Jeff Tracy of all people.

Adult men Gordon’s ass, two old and stubborn as hell mules more like it.

They were both stuck on the fact that now there might have to be challenges of authority, and frankly, now that the oldest outside of Grandma put that idea on the table, it bothered everyone else barely more than those two combined.

Jeff apologized for how he acted after Grandma ripped him a new one, and Scott apologized for jumping the gun a little bit too (after Grandma yelled at him as well), but there was no promising no second fight, least of all one like that.

It was a little like being a kid and watching Mommy and Daddy fight for the first time.

Long story short: it sucked ass.

Alan took a shuddery breath and brought Gordon down from that memory. Alan then proceeded to wrap his arms around himself, rubbing up and down in a weak attempt to ground himself, “I just… what if he had all these ideas about me while he was up there, and what if I’m completely different from those ideas and it disappoints him?”

Oh, sweet Jiminy Cricket.

What the hell was Gordon to say to that? Jeff was a loving a supportive father, more so than others. Gordon remembered all of his swim meets and such for a good reason, so his first response to that statement was easily of course he would be proud of you!

But there was an ever so tiny thing that grabbed Gordon’s tongue from saying that outright. It was honestly minor, so he wasn’t sure why it kept hitting him like a fucking truck.

Eight. Years.

Jeff Tracy was a remarkable man, and even more remarkable father, but nobody spent eight years in isolation, let alone spent it thousands of miles up in space, without it having some kind of consequence. Jeff would never outright disown his sons for anything as long as it wasn’t illegal or got themselves or others hurt, but he was human, and he had preferences just like the rest of them had.

So, disappointed? Hell no. But potentially shocked and uninterested? Less supportive than other endeavors? Gordon loved his father, but he had to admit that he was at a loss. There weren’t Dead Men for Dummies books anywhere, and it sucked to say it, but Jeff was different. They were different, and the only way they would know how this Jeff reacted to things would be an in-the-moment experience, and if Scott’s and his argument was the first concrete example they had...

With how different Gordon was to the rest of his family, he always worried that he would never fully fit in. When Jeff came back he was excited just as much as Alan, as the rest of his family, but Gordon was always worried about his dad the most. He cheered him on at his swim meets, sure, but Gordon was always keenly aware of how the man, outside of taking him to and from them and, well, cheering, lots and lots of cheering, never really asked more than How did it go, sport?

Gordon wanted to be the only Tracy with that fear. It sucked, but in the end, his family always came through even if they weren’t aware of his anxieties. Now that Alan has them, over his father no less…

That just brings them right back around to the start: Gordon would be lying to himself if he knew what Jeff thought of him, let alone Alan.

Alan was a perceptive person, and if Gordon lied to himself, Alan would see that and know Gordon was lying to him as well, and that would very easily make the situation worse.

However, before Gordon had any chance to say something, words pulled from his ass or otherwise, anything to ease his baby brother’s low thoughts, footsteps rustled in the distance, causing the two blondes to snap their heads to look to the side. What they saw were two men, one larger and older, another younger and seemingly out of his comfort zone, in a sense. Gordon was going to chalk it up to ‘being a rescuee after a tsunami’, but his squid senses were tingling, and he felt himself easily go slightly taut.

The younger stranger blinked a few times before snapping his head up to look at the two IR Operatives in front of him. His eyes lit up, and Gordon suspected it wasn’t because he was about to be rescued.

“Oh, shit, these guys are young. How much do you think they would sell for?”

And just like that, Gordon’s gut twisted into a killer pretzel and was dropped off a five-story building. This had to be a joke, had to be. These kinds of people were only supposed to exist in horror stories. In the dark parts of the internet that are mainly regarded as myths, created to scar the poor children who snuck onto their parents’ laptop without permission. Even if they were real, Gordon and Alan couldn’t have had that bad of luck to--

“Remember what we said about famous people? Forget the ages, these guys are International Rescue. Most clients will throw physicality to the wind if something famous is involved.”

Gordon also thought that your pupil shrinking to the size of the tip of a needle when you’re terrified was a myth, but as the blood completely drained from his face and left him white as a sheet, he had to concede he was wrong about multiple things tonight.

Holy hand grenade in a fucking handbasket.

The state of shock his body was forcing him to enter was bad, like, shock-blankets-are-required level bad, but trembles from a different body right next to him snapped him back into attention.

Alan was trembling, his grip on Gordon’s arm so tight that the older brother wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises when his outfit was finally taken off. There was only a marginal amount more color compared to Gordon behind those freckles, and Gordon couldn’t tell if his brother’s pupils were any smaller with the way the kid was flicking them around like crazy, “Wha-- what are they talking about?”

Ah, shock was one hell of a bitch.

Alan was 18 years of age, an adult. He flew a rocket into space for a part-time job. He also lived on an island where he was mainly homeschooled and was soon to be off at some kind of college (maybe even online classes). As embarrassing as it could be, his family wasn’t going to be the puritan fam that shoved the mere thought of sex to the sidelines. Alan had four older brothers who spent a significant amount of time on the mainland around other people more than the youngest could ever dream of. Most time of which was spent in their respective high schools (or Olympics fields, ‘cause Gordon wasn’t exactly of age when he still had school over there) with hot girls and boys-- similar hobbies or not-- that had the same level of hormones flying about.

They knew things and weren’t afraid to answer any question Alan had.

Also, Alan had a huge internet hobby; video games, browsing social media, you name it. The kid’s probably heard stories that would give Scott hernias for days. Alan had to have stumbled across the topic of human trafficking somewhere, whether it was the plot of a teen-rated video game or something as simple as a news article. At the end of the day, this kind of thing was something everyone was subconsciously aware of, but you didn’t think about it because A, it was awful, and B, more often than not, it didn’t happen to you.

But the way Alan stared at Gordon like the prankster held the stars in his palms-- as if he could snap his fingers and bring them to safety in the blink of an eye reminded Gordon that Alan was always a little bit more sheltered than any of them could help it. Alan was one of the last things their mother gave them, and the way John and he essentially became her just split into two people hurt more than any of them would be willing to admit.

Alan knew the horrors of the world firsthand, but he never had to fully grasp it because his older brothers would be there to shoulder it for him.

Always.

Like hell Gordon was going to drop that tradition today.

“Alan, run.”

With a shove and a half, Gordon ripped his little brother’s hand from his upper arm and sent him in the other direction. Gordon also ripped his own heart in half as he ignored the somewhat naive cry of Gordon! as it got quieter and quieter. Despite the guilt, Alan listened and booked it. Like a baby calf being told to run away from starving lions while the mom stayed behind to protect it. Gordon, mostly satisfied that his bro was safe, turned around and swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat.

He was hoping his glare could be as scary as Scott’s or even Virgil’s, but the way the creepy strangers just chuckled as if the threat he posed was no bigger than a tiny kitten filled Gordon with both anger and fear. They knew he was from IR. If they weren’t scared of him, what did that mean they were prepared for?

The older man stated an order, one that had Gordon’s blood run cold, “Go after the other. I got this one.”

Gordon got out half an angry “Hey!” before the man that spoke suddenly charged at him. On reflex, Gordon put himself into a fighting stance and prevented both of them from toppling over. He hardly considered it a victory, though, as the other guy who was ordered to run after Gordon’s baby brother was gone and out of sight before Gordon could even look up after nearly having the wind knocked out of him.

Gritting his teeth and shoving the man off of him, bringing his arms up and curling his fists with a glare brighter than his hair, the only plan he could go with was the one where he took this guy down as quickly as possible. Right now, the only solace Gordon had was the fact that his brother was a quick puppy. He didn’t only need ‘Three to move at the speed of light.

C’mon, Alan, show me why Track was worth it.

Focusing completely on his enemy, Gordon figured the man was intentionally slimy with his words, as the only thing he did in response to Gordon tensing like a cornered animal was to chuckle in cold amusement, “You’re a wily one, they’ll like that.”

Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t--

Gordon reinstigated the fight with a snarl, landing a punch that didn’t cause as much damage as he wanted, but it was enough for him to gain a slight upper hand. The man wasn’t thrown off balance, nor did he majorly flinch back from the recoil, but he did understand that he had to play more defensively. It was like two stubborn stallions fighting over the mare in the area.

One young and smaller and quicker, his age not a roadblock but an easy strength. If he hit just right his opponent would topple over as quickly as he could throw his fists. The older one, however, was still larger, and while he might have been slower and less agile, his age allowed more wisdom and understanding. He’s probably seen (and kidnapped) many like Gordon, so he knew exactly how to play him like a damn fiddle.

It was hard to say who would win until one of them was either running for the hills, beaten and bloody, or dead at the victor’s feet.

Gordon wasn’t sure how long they went at it, but he knew it was longer than he liked.

He was somehow barely winning it regardless, and he was fully prepared to give Penny a big heckin smooch for the lessons that were currently saving his life, but even with her endless knowledge and background, she couldn’t prepare Gordon for dirty tactics. Stallions fighting over mares usually just involve two of them.

Right as Gordon was able to grab the man’s arms and wring them around his back, a magical third person appeared, different to the second one that went after Alan, like a freaking wizard with his own magic wand.

Which was also known as a cattle prod to most.

The pokey object was jabbed into his side. Fire filled his body, making him scream out in pain. Gordon remembered when he and Virgil messed with one back on the farm as kids and how they learned their lesson the hard way. He was hoping to never “learn” it again. Yet as a couple thousand volts flared throughout his abdomen, even with the suit, he had to relent and let go of his makeshift hostage. His body was on autopilot and it said get away from source of burning pain.

His body tried, oh, it tried, but what was previously his prisoner managed to stand in the blink of an eye and swing a fist into the side that wasn’t being tortured by an agricultural device. With another short, cut off scream, Gordon fell over onto his ass. His wheezes were brutal, the air not wanting to come back into his body despite itself. At this point, the logical part of his brain was telling him he wasn’t going to get away and he should save his energy to withstand whatever these people were going to do to him, but as always, the emotional part was overriding everything.

Shit, guys, help! Scotty, Virg, Dad--

He turned around to be on his hands and knees and scrambled to try and run as Alan did. He might be faster in the water than on land, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one quick son of a bitch when he wanted to be. It was enough for his gym classes, it was enough when he needed to run away after a successful prank, it was enough when his grandma needed a new test subject...

But it wasn’t enough here.

The cattle prod was shoved into the back of his neck, and with it came darkness and a growing sense of dread.

Please, Mom, get Allie to our family.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #alan tracy #my post #my fic #i FEEL like im forgetting tags wtf. im 99% im not but STILL #hang on i added (a thunderbirds fanfic) to this cuz now that i look at it #that title is VAGUE AS HELL lmfao

43 notes · View notes