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softyoongiionly · 4 years ago

Text

chapstick

based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.

Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want

Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)

A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go

Jungkook is in a bad mood today.

He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.

Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.

It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood- sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.

“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”

Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.

“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”

Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.

Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.

“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.

“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”

The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.

“Alright- let’s go.”

For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.

He feels gross though.

Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.

The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.

Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.

“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”

Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.

Amongst other things...

Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.

Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.

Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.

You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.

Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.

Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.

Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.

Again, again, again, again, and again...

He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.

“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”

Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.

His day is finally over.

He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.

“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.

Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.

“No, I’m getting my own car.”

Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.

“Are going to see her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.

“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”

Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.

“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.

Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.

Or seeing who he wanted...

“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen

Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.

“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”

Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”

The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.

Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.

“I like her.”

Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”

Yes.

There was something else Jimin didn’t know.

Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.

He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.

“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.

“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.

How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?

“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.

He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”

“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”

His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”

Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”

Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”

Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”

“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t know...it was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”

He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”

Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”

Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.

Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.

“It was fun.”

Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.

“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”

Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.

Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.

You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.

Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.

But you do know he likes black.

And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.

The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.

So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.

Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.

The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.

By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.

Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.

Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”

He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.

“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”

Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”

Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”

At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”

He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.

He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.

“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”

Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”

“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.

Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.

However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.

Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”

At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.

He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later

After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.

He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.

You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.

When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.

You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.

Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.

He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”

You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.

“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”

Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”

Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”

Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”

He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.

“Mhmmm.” He lies

“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”

Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”

He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”

Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”

He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”

Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.

“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading away...my lips are trying to suck it all up.”

Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”

Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.

“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.

“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”

Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.

He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.

You smirk, “Better?”

Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.

“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.

You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.

He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.

Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.

He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.

He loves when you play with his hair.

You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.

The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.

Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.

And you’re determined to kiss every single one.

“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.

All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.

Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.

His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.

“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”

He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.

He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.

Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.

A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.

You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.

His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.

“I feel dizzy.”

His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.

“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.

He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.

Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.

Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.

It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.

And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.

After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.

“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”

At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“I wanna look good for you.”

It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.

Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.

So you shower him with it.

“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.

“Thank you.”

He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.

If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.

But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.

At least not at the moment...

He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.

Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.

But you’re kind of driving him insane.

Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.

Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.

He likes the torture.

“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.

“Yes.” He breathes

You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.

He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.

“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.

You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.

“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”

Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.

You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.

As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.

It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.

Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”

He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.

“Why are you so quiet then?”

For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,

“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”

Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.

When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.

Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.

“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”

His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.

Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.

You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.

“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”

Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.

Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.

He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.

You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.

Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.

“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.

“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”

You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.

“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.

“Come here.”

You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.

“You’re amazing.”

He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.

You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.

The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.

“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”

#jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfics #jungkook fics #jungkook fic recs #boyfriend! jungkook #long haired jungkook #jungkook sexy #jungkook hot #jungkook cute #jungkook x reader #bts #bts one shot #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfics #bts fanfiction

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og-cinnamon · 4 years ago

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please read this! it's urgent!!!

hello all! i haven't been here in very long, but i don't know what to do anymore. there hasn't been a strike this big in many years, and there has been little to no international exposure to my knowledge, so i hope some of you can read this, and try to help!

you may or may not know this already, but the situation in Colombia is pretty bad right now. because of the pandemic, unemployment rose by a stupid amount, and poverty got way worse than it already was: yesterday, about 40% of the entire country's population got reported to be in poverty. that's about 20 MILLION people living in extreme poverty.

added to these (really bad already) conditions, the government has reported there's not enough money to keep the country working for more than two weeks. this is not because there actually isn't any money. there's not enough money for governing because of ongoing, old corruption in the government; and because our president, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE THIRD PEAK IN THE SANITARY CRISIS, decided he should get himself some war planes for literally no reason.

as a way to resolve the fiscal deficit caused by the government, the government decided to draft a tax reform, according to which middle and low class citizens will have to pay a 19% added value tax for anything they buy, especially including basic goods such as meats, grains, fruits and vegetables- pretty much anything you need to eat. aside from that, there will be a 19% added value tax on gasoline (further increasing the prices on food), basic services (water and electricity supply, and internet in middle class households) and even funerary services in the event that you die. if this reform gets passed, WE CAN'T EVEN DIE WITHOUT BEING CHARGED TAXES FOR IT, EVEN IF THE ALREADY EXISTING SHIT CONDITIONS MAKE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO LIVE IF IT PASSES.

naturally, there was generalized outrage when the reform got announced, and so, on april 28th a national strike against the reform began. it's been three days of marches already, and i have never seen everyone come together like this to repel the reform: indigenous people, farmers and truck drivers are blocking national highways all over the country, many of my fellow students have been marching nonstop all the while, bus drivers are blocking highways in Bogotá. this never happens, so it's that bad.

however, this outrage has been met from day one with police repression, and the government has been blatantly ignoring the people's demands. on april 28th, a 13-year-old got shot and killed because he kicked a policeman. on april 29th, a girl lost her eye because a policeman shot her in the face while she was standing in the midst of a peaceful protest.

today, on april 30th, 7 people have been confirmed to have been murdered in a police shooting during one of the marches; there are about 300 people illegally confined in a stadium by the police; one of my best friends has had two tear gas bombs shot into her house for no reason.

the list of disappearances keeps growing, and no one knows what the death toll is; the media keeps covering it all up by bringing attention to the people burning fires on highways and breaking into banks, but there are no official reports on all of what's happening yet.

the president has said he won't lift the reform no matter what, but the strike will continue until it does, and we're terrified. this is the biggest strike in years, but influential government officials are even asking policemen to shoot people even though they're not even meant nor allowed to carry many of the guns they're using, and the national health ministry is threatening to stop vaccine supply to one of the most covid-affected areas of the country.

i haven't even gone out to march, because i live in a high risk household and vaccines haven't been delivered to a significant degree yet and so i'm scared of covid; but i'm still genuinely fearing for my life and my family's. my friend's house got flooded with tear gas because the police felt like throwing a tantrum. who knows what's next?

what's even wilder about all this is that i haven't seen any international exposure, even though it's the exact kind of thing that deserves exposure; besides, at this point i believe the government will only cave through international pressure.

please, i beg of you, if you read this please reblog it, repost it, do whatever; get informed on what's happening, please help us make it trend. the world needs to know, please help spread the word!

MAY 2ND UPDATE:

as of right now, there are no official reports on the past few days' brutality. however, most unofficial human rights organizations claim the death toll is 35, that there have been 45 seriously wounded people, and that there have been 31 disappearances. in response to that, the president threatened to militarize the main cities last night and said it was a way to defend citizens' integrity; what has been evident, though, is that the main threat to the population is police abuse.

this morning, some things happened as well: first, the largest Colombian syndicates (truckers and taxi drivers) announced they'll be going on strike tomorrow and contributing to the blockage of main highways all over the country.

after this was announced, the president announced that he will order the Congress to scrap the reform, and that a different project will be worked on. by previous experiences, this just means that they'll find a way to rephrase the reform so it's a bit more agreeable, but ultimately get us to the same place; aside from that, a reform to the health system will continue regardless of the tax reform's state.

bear in mind the nationwide health system is on the brink of collapse as it is, because even after a year of the pandemic and counting, there hasn't been enough funding to guarantee biosecurity nor treatment: in departments such as Chocó, or the entire Caribbean region, service is precarious at best. further cuts on its budget would be beyond catastrophic.

this obviously means the strikes won't stop, but with militarization seeming imminent (unless the army goes on strike as well, which has been rumored but I find unlikely), and the nonstop rise in police violence, there are no guarantees to human rights nor protest safety.

please help us keep spreading the word!!!

#28A #noalareformatributaria #police brutality #colombia #paro nacional #urgent #help needed #idk what to tag so this gets seen but god #signal boost #update #important #paronacional2m

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “The Final Word”

Well, we made it to the finale, everyone, and if you're reading this it seems you've survived the watching of it too. Barely. To say that some questionable choices were made across these 20 minutes is... an understatement.

But before we delve into the episode, I want you to cast your mind back to November 7th, 2020. A horrible year that heralded a horrible RWBY volume. There, coming off the shaky writing of Volume 7, I posed a number of questions and concerns that the show needed to tackle, with the promise that we would return to these expectations in four months time. Now, here we are! Let's refresh everyone's memory, yeah?

Taken directly from that recap, what RWBY promised us, through various teasers and Q&As, included:

Emphasis on Ruby’s leadership and how Summer’s death has impacted her

Insight into Ren and Nora’s flaws

May Merigold will supposedly have a larger part

More information about The Long Memory (Ozpin’s cane)

Theme of the volume is that you can respect someone but that doesn’t necessarily mean you agree with them

Very short timeline (supposedly just two days)

Yang in particular is very suspicious and distrustful

And you know what? They did all this. In the spirit of being fair and honest to this show, RWBY succeeded in delivering on everything they promised... it was just our foolishness that expected that these ideas would be delivered well. Ruby's leadership took center stage in the form of her hiding for multiple episodes and then others telling her she's still The Best before the plot dropped a solution into her lap... one she could have used at any point prior to this. Summer's death certainly has an impact, though it's an impact born of a crazy reveal that Summer likely isn't dead, but turned into a horrifying grimm monster. Ren and Nora both delve into their flaws, but heaven forbid either grow from that reflection. Ren learns that if he pushes past his primary flaw of keeping his emotions buried and actually expresses his doubts for once, he'll be yelled at and ignored until he admits how wrong he was. The "real" flaw is being a bad friend, with "bad friend" equaling "Not agreeing with Ruby 100%." Meanwhile, Nora considers that maybe she shouldn't rush in recklessly and hit things with her hammer... which is why she rushes in recklessly, hits something with her hammer, gets grievously injured, and is told that this is just who she truly is. No growth there, not unless we count her sudden desire to figure out who she is without Ren... but that exploration hasn't started yet. Too bad she wasn't the teammate separated at the end of the volume!

Meanwhile, May did indeed have a larger role to play, one I quite liked, it's just that this role — like all the others — inevitably circled back to realizing how wonderful Ruby is. May challenges Ruby to make a decision, but instead of being the catalyst for Ruby's growth, May becomes another forgotten side character who does a sudden about-turn regarding her perspective, leaving the group with the contradictory message that Ruby is actually doing her best, she's just a kid, no need to try any harder... everyone who claimed otherwise up until now was mistaken. May is another Cordovin. She's another Qrow. She's another Maria.

Fun fact: we don't even know if Maria is alive right now. That's how little she means to the show!

Actually, wait... anyone remember this nonsense from Volume 7?

I was too lazy to change the date.

Moving on, Ozpin's cane turned out to be a stakes obliterating bomb that came out of nowhere, makes no sense logistically — how do battles store energy that only hurts grimm? — yet nevertheless seems to have killed Hazel? It's a disaster of unanswered questions. Similar to the disaster of our two day timeline when, I'm fairly sure, we've had an unnatural number of sunrises and sunsets. I'll have to take a look back at the volume as a whole now that it's complete to be sure of that though. As for our themes... did we really explore the idea of respecting someone even if you disagree with them? Because Ironwood wasn't shown any respect. Ren wasn't shown respect. I think the closest we got was Oscar calmly validating Yang's worry about getting buddy-buddy with Emerald, but the whole point there was that Yang was wrong. She wasn't wrong, but that's what the text would have you believe. She is indeed "very suspicious and distrustful," but that's hardly unjustified in these circumstances. I'm still boggling at the fact that it took the group three volumes for forgive Ozpin, even while he was actively working to assist them, yet I-helped-destroy-Beacon-and-tried-to-kill-everyone-you-love Emerald is the group's new BFF after she... ran away with Oscar? She didn't save him, she just went along for the ride. At the very least we might have gotten a scene where Penny was like, "Hey, why are you all laughing with the woman who just tried to kill my dad?"

But oh yeah, the story doesn't remember Pietro exists either. His daughter is DEAD and he hasn't been on screen since Episode Five, let alone there when she passes.

I had my own list going in, including such expectations as "Ozpin bb you got done dirty please acknowledge this" and "Queer baiting, queer baiting… you’re on thin ice at this point, RWBY. Just skate on over to the queer snack bar before you fall straight into the lake." Obviously these needs were not met.

So what, given this mess of expectations, did we end up with?

Our finale — for some reason — breaks the one word title trend with "The Final Word." It's an expression that refers to the final word in an argument or a discussion, the idea of winning by making a last, devastating point. It can also refer to making the final decision on something, which is the best way I'm able to apply the title to this episode (outside of any “final” comparisons). Penny's death is certainly all about choice and making some kind of decision... but on the whole, this title doesn't feel like it fits well. Not like "Worthy" or "Creation" or "Risk." The two latter titles had obvious connections to the episode in question through dialogue and plot, while the former was a deliberate callback to Watts' speech. "The Final Word" feels... less obvious in what it’s trying to say.

That's a minor nitpick though. Let's get into the meat of the episode.

We open on the grimm whale still disappearing, which is weird. I get that it's massively bigger than any other grimm we've seen, but they all turned to dust near instantaneously and it's been, what? At least an hour since Oscar blew it up? Likely longer when we factor in their walk back to the manor, the fight with Ironwood, fixing Penny, and this entire evacuation. It certainly makes for a nice visual, but like so many details in RWBY, it raises unnecessary questions along the way.

The important bit though is that amidst the whale carcass a blob of evil is swirling about. Salem, obviously.

She’s not reforming in time to actually do anything though, don't worry.

Instead, we cut to the Ironwood vs. Winter fight and there's at least some dialogue this time. Ironwood yells that he's sacrificed everything to keep Remnant safe. Winter yells back that he actually sacrificed everyone else. Obviously, Ironwood should be called out for things like, you know, his unprompted murders, but instead they have Winter listing stuff that she was never shown to have a problem with before. The embargo? "Squeezed Mantle until it broke?" She, as Ironwood's second hand, understood and supported both the decision to close the border and the need to collect resources for a plan designed to take out Salem. I hate that no only did she turn without an ounce of hesitation or grief, but now they're having her act as if Ironwood forced these decisions on everyone, rather than everyone supporting him through them. We all remember Volume 7 when Ruby pressured him to finish Amity, right? And in trust RWBY fashion, most of these words are meaningless. Mantle "broke"? What does that mean? The class disparity did not come about through Ironwood: that's been in the works for generations. The lack of resources made things harder, yes, but when they were reclaimed by Robyn nothing improved. Watts is the one who turned off the heat and Salem attacked Atlas, leaving Mantle alone. Now, all the citizens have escaped through magical portals. So how is Mantle "broken" exactly? More importantly, why is Winter upset over this vague, nonsensical dilemma when she could be yelling about Ironwood wanting to bomb Mantle?

Again: this woman watched Ironwood shoot the councilman, shrugged, and continued to believe in him up until she realized his bomb threat was real. That was one of the main reasons why I thought the councilman might be alive, with Ironwood only shooting a warning shot past him. Because this is how you react to a good person unexpectedly killing someone else

whereas this is what we got from Winter and Harriet.

Hell, Weiss has more of a reaction to Yang telling Ruby things aren't super great right now.

So either Ironwood didn't do something that bad, thereby justifying these tame reactions (unlikely, given where his character ended up), or we should believe based on the animation that everyone was super chill with him killing an unarmed civilian. Which is then directly contradicted when they're like, "You're going to shoot Marrow? Bomb a city?? How could you do such horrible things??? 😲" Friends, buddies, fictional pals... you already watched him murder a dude.

The point is, there's a lot for Winter to be upset about, but she's not upset about that. There's a lot that Winter herself believed in, but the writing has forgotten that. This entire arc went off the rails a volume ago.

Also, why is Ironwood fighting with that giant gun? This is his final battle, presumably ever, and he's wielding this awkward, sluggish weapon we saw him randomly pick up two episodes ago? Let him use his regular guns! Give us a fantastic battle like he had with Watts! Instead, RWBY's final showdown consists of him using this no-name weapon as a unwieldy club in some of the most boring choreography we've seen to date. It doesn't help that this fight needs to share time with three others. Instead of an epic showdown, we're given glimpses of the battle before continually cutting away from it.

During that first cut we return to the Team RWBY battle where Penny, doing her best to stay out of Cinder's reach, is whisked away on Weiss' wasp.

Too bad she didn't do that for Yang...

Jaune and Nora watch this horror unfold until Jaune says, "Priority one!" and they split. Except... what is priority one exactly? Helping the civilians? I guess, because they don't enter the fight until the very end of it, when everyone else seems to have made it to Vacuo. And you know what, I like that. For once it feels like the group — or at least the B Team — is acting like huntsmen, putting the needs of the people over their own, personal desires. I'm sure Nora wants to help the group after Yang's (presumed) demise and that Jaune would like nothing more than to get his hands on Cinder, but they put those grievances aside to do the work they signed up for. Good job!

My only real gripe is that we don't really see this struggling in the animation, I'm just assuming it's there. In particular, there's a moment when Jaune sends Nora through the portal for reinforcements — not knowing they can't return — and they seem a little too jovial when, by this point, three friends have died.

There's letting your cast be supportive, and then there's having them ignore that three teammates have perished in an abyss. It really doesn't help to sell the idea that Yang, Ruby, and Blake are in any danger here.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Penny tells Weiss that since Cinder is really just after the Maiden powers, she can buy the rest of the group time to escape. Weiss, obviously, isn't fond of this idea... and then the both of them are blasted off the wasp by Cinder's fire. Which they deserve, frankly. They're just having this casual conversation about sacrifice while in the middle of a battle. Did they somehow forget that Cinder can fly too?

Note that multiple attacks from Cinder, another blast, and a hard landing on the pathway gives their auras a knock, but doesn't break them. The primary defense for Yang's aura shattering in a single, simple hit was that everyone is exhausted and running on little to no power... yet here the rest of the cast is, tanking multiple hits as we've come to expect. There is no explanation for Yang's defeat except that the writers chose to ignore the rules of their world for a dramatic death scene... even though that drama was erased a week later as half our team falls into the void too.

We'll get to that though. For now, Cinder corrects Penny's belief with "I want it all" and proceeds to try to finish them off, only for Blake to arrive, having made her choice from last episode about who to help. It's a legitimately nice attack, but I happened to pause at the bEST MOMENT

Anyway.

We leave that fight to return to Qrow and Harriet who have, off screen, started an entirely different battle. What I mean is, last we saw Qrow had broken through the windshield of the airship, roughly pinned Harriet, and was taunting her about getting the fight she wanted. Now, suddenly, he's going “You’re making a mistake, Harriet, what happened to Clover—” as if he's been trying to talk her down this whole time. It's jarring, especially when we consider that Qrow had a volume long "kill Ironwood" arc that was dropped because... Robyn reminded him that murder is bad? RWBY feels like a storytelling pinball machine. Characters bounce from one personality to the next, one perspective and another, round and round until you don't know where they'll end up.

Harriet screams for Qrow to just shut up already and honestly? Same. I love Qrow, he's one of my favorites, but I can't deny that he's been done dirty like so many others since Volume 6. I love who Qrow was, not the mess RWBY has created the last few years.

Time to delve back into fic after recapping!

Sadly though, this strange dialogue wasn't the only "wtf" moment. Harriet is still trying to drop the bomb — which is its own mess of confusing motivations — when Vine and Elm show up on Harriet's ship. Elm begs Harriet not to do this "because you’re our friend!”

Am I glad that they finally acknowledged that the Ace Ops have always been friends? Sure, but why did we spend two volumes claiming otherwise? They were friends, a fantastic team, then Harriet announces that's a lie and we get a bunch of "Team RWBY is superior because they're actually friends" messages. Except this entire time we're still watching the Ace Ops be kind and playful with one another. But they're not friends, the story says. Not friends as they fight these battles. Not friends as they grieve for Clover. Definitely not friends as they react in horror at Ironwood nearly shooting Marrow. No, there's nothing there... until Elm claims there is! Then Harriet reacts in shock. I have friends?

Except Elm was labeled the one "just following orders" by Yang. Elm is the one who shook off Vine after the whale exploded. This isn't the story of one character, Harriet, thinking she was alone and then realizing that people do care for her, this is a story that, seemingly at random, had this group being BFFs or acting like they hated each other — and at each point the visuals are contradicted by the story's message. When they act like friends, we're told they're not friends. When they don't act like friends, we're told they really have been this whole time. I mean, do any of them even care that Marrow teamed up with Qrow and Robyn to take them out five minutes ago? All three were going along with Ironwood's scheme until they were physically stopped, but now Elm is convinced this is a bad decision she needs to talk Harriet down from with the power of friendship?

None of these characters are characters, they're just slapped together reactions based on whatever the plot needs. Who is Elm? I've got no clue. Her personality changes every episode.

Also, love that Qrow moves to stop the bomb from dropping and Harriet screams at him to "Get out of the way!" rather than just... attacking him? She even throws her hands out like she's having a temper tantrum. This feels like schoolyard bickering, not a life or death struggle.

Even though, you know, the audience is aware that the people of Mantle have already been evacuated and Qrow's group is aware that Atlas is falling on top of Mantle as they speak, so... why does the bomb matter? It's going to, what? Destroy the city thirty seconds before Atlas does? Oh no, the horror.

Things then, if you can believe it, get even worse. The bomb is still about to drop, so instead of doing anything to stop it — I mean seriously, we know it takes four people to shoulder the bomb's weight, but you're telling me Qrow and a reformed Harriet can't snag it in a pinch? — Qrow sits there, looks at Clover's pin... and the bomb careens towards the side of the airship instead, stopping.

Because I guess Qrow has good luck now? Or always did and somehow never noticed it? Or his semblance evolved?? Again, we don't know, but it's a bad moment any way you slice it, imo. Qrow has always been defined as the guy with a bad luck semblance and, much like Penny's android struggles, the allure was in watching him overcome those challenges, not having the show erase the challenge entirely. Especially when we don't even understand how it was erased. Qrow just... stops drinking, stops caring for Ironwood, stops wanting to kill Ironwood, stops causing bad luck, I guess. RWBY takes major character traits and flips them off like a light switch, leaving the audience with no emotional tether. We didn't watch Qrow overcome his drinking, or realize he can't bear to kill Ironwood, or discover a way to live life with the horrible hand he was dealt, he just blinks one day and those things are gone. Why? No one is sure. Not even the writers, I'd wager, because otherwise they would have written explanations into the text.

Many in the fandom insist that any basic information provided by the story amounts to "hand holding" when in fact there is a massive difference between the sort of unnecessary exposition that bogs down a tale, and having facts enough for the audience in its entirety to be on the same page about what is actually happening. For example, recently someone argued strongly that the "Penny is human" take is incorrect because Penny isn't human, she has an inhuman body made entirely of aura... yet where in the world does this exist in the story? Ambrosius may have been unsure about what Penny would be prior to removing her robotic parts, but that ambiguity is gone once her body forms, the equivalent of worrying about that gun only for a flag with 'BANG' to appear instead of a bullet. Worrying about something doesn't mean that something actually occurred. Penny appears human, expresses human sentiments, and then, this episode, dies as a human. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck and succumbs to the mortal peril that all ducks face... it's probably a duck. As I said in a recent ask, I implore the fandom to stop writing RWBY's scripts for them. Or rather, do so in some amazing fanfics. Don't do it on critical posts as a means of insisting that your revision is canon.

So Qrow has good luck now, maybe, but this character change doesn't amount to anything because Watts remotely starts the bomb's countdown.

At least he’s entertaining and competent. We had that for a time.

Back to the main battle, Neo is kicking Ruby's ass. Why? Because there's no consistency in power levels in this show. The ancient woman who hasn't fought in decades dances circles around Neo, highlighting how weak she supposedly is, yet now Neo dances circles around our main character. None of us should expect fights to follow the logic of the world, only what drama the plot wants to stir up. Ruby is eventually knocked down from a hard hit — yet her aura's intact! — and is saved at the last second by Weiss tossing Neo into one of the portals.

Far more of a problem than the power leveling is that Ruby gives no indication here that Neo just murdered her sister. Again, that's what the characters are meant to believe, yet Ruby is as stoic as she would be fighting a bunch of White Fang grunts. If you showed this scene to a RWBY fan on its own and asked, "What do you think happened prior to this?" the answer would be, "Uh... nothing? Ruby is just fighting Neo like she did on the airship in Volume 3." Nothing about this scene — from dialogue to animation — sells the idea that Ruby just lost the person most important to her in the world.

When we do finally mention Yang, it's Weiss who goes, “Come on, we have to do this for Yang” and the delivery is... meh. Honestly, I normally don't pay much attention to the voice acting, but I had a problem with most of Weiss' lines this episode. The "Leave her alone!" during this fight and later a "Get back!" as she attacks Cinder both fell really flat for me. Given the devastation and charged emotion that's supposed to be here, we can't give her anything better than generic cries that, again, she’d throw at any grunt? In that later scene the animation absolutely helps sell Weiss' distress, but the dialogue is common and the delivery has no emotional punch, leaving it feeling like Yang is just hanging out in Vacuo and they promised they'd beat the baddies before catching up with her. No one but Blake is acting like Yang died.

In fact, we see more emotion from Ruby when Weiss shoves her back, taking the brunt of Cinder's blast.

Weiss' aura breaks, not that that's a danger or anything. Everyone falls before they're injured, Winter gets the Maiden powers, Ren barely has to fight. Losing aura in this show used to be a moment of peril, where just last volume Winter was bruised, bleeding, and now needs an assistive device because she had to continue a battle with no aura. Now it's a joke. Aura breaks left and right across the volume with no repercussions attached to that.

We see a bit of the Blake and Penny vs. Cinder fight where Cinder blasts Blake off the edge. Penny rushes after her because at least one character remembered that they can fly.

Ruby, meanwhile, remembers that she can fly when it benefits her. After getting hit down onto a lower level and watching Crescent Rose plummet, she taunts Neo into an attack with a move that's actually quite good. I like the confidence with which Ruby riles her up and I like the strategy of darting behind Neo to knock her off the path instead. “Whatever you wanted, I hope it was worth it."

The only thing I don't like is that this speed and ingenuity had to disappear to justify Yang falling.

Cinder breaks Ruby's aura from behind though, sending her over too and grabbing onto Neo's leg. In an obvious moment born of the trope, it looks as if Cinder is reaching to help Neo, only for her to snag the Relic instead. “You should have never threatened me," she tells Neo and to Ruby: "you should have never been born.”

Love that they erased all that cool growth from last episode! And by "love" I mean "hate." As I said last recap, I'm not going to pretend that Cinder's character isn't riddled with problems, but realizing she was stronger by teaming up with Neo and Watts was one of the best things they've ever done for her. It made Cinder dangerous again and showed Watts' speech having a clear impact. It also made her more entertaining, creating a new dynamic among the three villains. Now though, Cinder is just... Cinder. The same boring, stupid Cinder we've had since Volume 4. She betrays Neo and then later betrays Watts.

So Cinder kicks Neo and Ruby both over the edge because why would we want to make her interesting? Neo falls, but Ruby has friends there to catch her! Unlike Yang. Jk. Weiss’ aura is gone and Blake actually tried both times, so major kudos for her. Using momentum supplied by Penny, she snags Ruby and hooks her weapon into one of the pathways... only for Cinder to cut the ribbon. Both plummet and once again Penny has a more believable reaction to all this, just like she did last week

Speaking of reactions, does anyone else find it weird that Cinder finally succeeded in killing Ruby and... doesn’t seem to care?

No? Just me?

At least we get that good animation with Weiss I was talking about before, even if the dialogue is lacking. I love that she snagged Blake's weapon and uses it to try and take out Cinder, shaking the whole time. Those are some great details.

Back to the bomb, Qrow is trying to escape, but Harriet says there isn't enough time to get out of the blast range. "I've killed us all." Vine has the solution though, using his semblance to wrap up the airship, thus containing the blast when it goes off. His final words are to reassure Elm that he can give his life, "if it means saving all of my friends." Just in case you missed the part about the Ace Ops being super close this whole time. Even though they also weren’t. Trying to eat your cake too, RWBY?

Frankly, I didn't feel much of anything during this scene, not when Vine made the sacrifice, nor when Elm and Harriet look on sadly while Robyn pilots them away (that's her contribution this episode).

All I can say is, good on RWBY for not killing one of the three dark skinned characters, or just murdering the Ace Ops as a whole. What the story is going to do with them though, who knows.

Jaune and Nora have that ‘You can do it!’ moment after three of their friends have presumably been killed. I swear, about 80% of Jaune's scenes do not work tonally and oh boy, things only get worse from here.

First though, I like his entrance. He slams into the fight against Cinder and lines up with Penny and Weiss, who is still dual-wielding her and Blake's weapons. That's an epic shot.

It looks as if they stand a decent chance against Cinder — Weiss' lost aura notwithstanding — except then Cinder's arm starts going crazy and she gleefully announces that Salem has returned.

Working on a time limit now, Cinder unleashes a volley of attacks that Penny steps in to protect the other two from. It's here that Cinder grabs hold with her grimm arm.

It's here that Penny dies. Again.

For the third time.

Friends, I am tired. This moment honestly deserves the most epic of rants, but that, in turn, requires energy. Energy? In this economy? Ha! That's hilarious. Taking this seriously though, the problem here can — as usual — be boiled down to a single question: What was the point?

Penny died in a horrible attack that shook the cast and audience both to their core.

That emotional impact was erased through her resurrection.

The resurrection did not create a new emotional impact for our heroes to grapple with.

Penny is given the Maiden powers, solidifying the fact that she's always been a "real girl."

That lesson was erased when the story decided to make her human for unexplained reasons (because no, she never needed to be human to survive the virus).

Penny then dies, passing the power to Winter... who was set to get the power in the first place.

We have, once again, come full circle. You can take Penny out of the story and nothing changes. Does Ruby lose any lessons or emotional growth? No. Does anyone survive who would have otherwise died? No. Does her getting the powers lead to someone unexpected snagging them upon her death? No. Penny's existence was filler. She was put in the story to take up time and, that done, was removed from the story once again. It's a choice that wouldn't be half as horrible if that filler hadn't done so much damage along the way.

First is the obvious: that Penny didn't deserve this. As a character, she didn't deserve to be brought back just to be killed off again, seemingly without narrative purpose, serving only to draw in viewers who RT knew loved the character. Second, keeping her in the story led to her entire arc unraveling. Initially, Penny died as an android in the world's eyes, but those who actually knew her — Ruby and Pietro — mourned the girl she really was. Now we have this horrible message that being a machine isn't real enough, so she has to die as a human being. It's a disservice to her character and, as an allegory for many minorities, downright insulting to the audience. Third, this offensive 'better to die as a human than live as a robot' message is wrapped up in the claim that Penny finally gets to choose something — “Let me choose this one thing. Trust me” — but she already did that when she chose to take the Maiden powers. We already had the better written version of this last volume!

And the fourth issue...well.

Fourth and fifth are the real kickers. Fourth is that Penny's death was an assisted suicide. She explicitly asks Jaune to kill her so she can ensure she's thinking of the right person when she passes (never mind that her thoughts would probably be on Jaune while this is happening) and that's... pretty horrible. Look, I'm no purist. I like a great deal of dark, gritty stories whose plot exists to make us uncomfortable. That's a valuable emotion that fiction can generate. The problem is not that RWBY is tackling a sensitive topic, but that they aren’t tackling it well. Yes, they put in a content warning and (from what I've heard) a suicide helpline as well, but providing the already necessary resources is not the same thing as writing that kind of scene with respect and care. All of the above tells us that, no matter what RT may have intended, that respect and care weren't communicated to the audience. Like Yang, they didn't even bother to keep Penny's death within the rules of their world. Jaune is right there ready to heal her and Penny says no, there's supposedly not time.

Um... since when?

Jaune's aura boost is instantaneous. The second he amplifies aura is the same second the healing starts and their talk could have been spent saving Penny. There was certainly time to save Weiss in Volume 5. To have a character go, 'Nah, it's too late' when the solution is right there is the ultimate cop-out. Suddenly announcing that the solution will no longer work For Reasons is not a legitimate limitation and it's made doubly insulting that RT didn't simply use the limitations already available to them. Jaune has been running low on aura since the whale. He then expended a great deal of aura boosting Penny to keep the virus in check. Every other ally has had their aura broken in this fight so, there. That's your solution. Have Jaune take a few hard hits from Cinder, his aura breaks, and then when Penny is mortally wounded he no longer has a semblance to heal her. It's that easy! Yet instead they had Penny reject help so that she could ask to die. That's what's offensive here.

Finally, reason number five... why is this moment given to Jaune? That's another easy solution: Jaune has gone through the portal and can't get back to heal Penny. There. Done. But logistics aside, this scene should have gone to any other character. Who is Jaune to Penny? Or Penny to Jaune? No one! They don't have a relationship. I get that the writers didn't want any of the girls at her side because then it would be hard to justify Penny not passing the power to them (which I get: making one team member a Maiden changes the show drastically), but you know who should be there instead of Jaune?

Pietro.

Pietro, who built Penny as a weapon and who was never given the chance to apologize for that. Pietro, who told Ruby he could only rebuild her once more, setting up an expectation that he'd sacrifice himself for his daughter (despite the complicated racial issues that would bring up). Pietro, who watched Penny plummet and has no idea what happened to her, let alone that she's been made into a human girl. Pietro should have been at her side, saying goodbye to his child and helping her complete her last wish.

And it would be so very easy to pull off. All it takes is a single line where Penny remembers that her father exists, asking Ruby to ensure a portal opens up in Amity. There's a quick reunion along the pathways before Cinder attacks. We hear a cry of despair as Penny falls and she looks, seeing her father racing towards her, though she thought he'd already made it out. There, you’re done. We open ourselves up to a lot of attacks whenever we say, "Why didn't RWBY just do ____?" because those who vehemently defend the writing like to go, "Oh, you think you could write RWBY better?" and no, I don't. I struggle with long-form storytelling and massive casts. I don't think I could do justice to the sort of show RWBY wants to be, but I do think I'm a decent enough writer to spot when there are major problems like this. The question of "Why doesn't Penny remember that her beloved dad exists?" and "Why, out of that massive cast, is Jaune the one to do this deed?" are both things that a newbie writer can spot, and a sometimes okay writer can figure out how to fix them both simultaneously. A good writer will start thinking about themes — what might it mean for Pietro to kill the creation he made? — and a great writer will find a way to pull that off without having that insulting, discomforting feeling pop up. At this point, our RWBY crew feels less like new writers making mistakes (because they're not new, not at all), but rather just writers who haven't bothered to learn from their mistakes after eight years. That's a lot harder to watch.

Because putting Jaune here doesn't just mess with RWBY's internal rules (not using his semblance) and it's not just useless in terms of Penny's development (she doesn't know him outside of "dude who boosted my aura for an hour"), but it also falls back into a pattern I thought RWBY had finally broken from: making Jaune the story's emotional center. This is not the JAUNE show. It's the RWBY show. Yet here, once again, we have Jaune in the spotlight. Why, after a whole volume of Ruby avoiding making decisions, does Jaune finally make the hard call? Why, after a scene where Penny asked Ruby to kill her, does Jaune do that deed? Why, after a divisive arc where all the grief for Pyrrha went to Jaune, is Jaune now set to shoulder the grief of Penny? At least Jaune had a relationship with Pyrrha, even if Nora and Ren did too. Yet with Penny he seems to be there solely because the writers can't bear to keep him out of that center spot for long. All of Team JNOR make it through to Vacuo... except Jaune. Jaune falls into the abyss too because, if the show goes this route, we apparently can’t have a volume just about Team RWBY, the main characters. The main characters are separated from the rest of the team and it's Jaune, not Oscar and Ozpin with a connection to the lore, not Nora or Ren whose development now hinges on them learning who they are without the other, it's Jaune who follows the title characters into a new dimension.

The issue is not whether Jaune deserves to grieve over the truly traumatic thing he just did now that he’s done it. He obviously does. The issue is the writers setting up a scenario where Jaune is situated to do that emotional work in the first place.

I like Jaune as a character. I don't like how the writing uses him as a character. RWBY is built on the idea that these four girls are the heroes of this tale, not the expected blond, blue-eyed, sword wielding guy we’ve seen in so many other stories. So why does that guy get the most important scene of the finale? Yes, Jaune had much less screen time this volume than he did in the past, that’s a good thing given the number of important characters RWBY has to balance, but that hasn't erased the problem of him being given significant moments that should be going to title characters. Does Ruby’s team rescue Oscar and take on Salem? No, Jaune's team does. Does Ruby's team save Penny? No, Jaune's semblance keeps her grounded and then holds the virus off. Not everything is a problem — we've also got good choices like having Ruby defeat the Hound and Ruby's team take on Cinder for the majority of the fight — but that doesn't erase that Penny’s death wasn’t something Jaune should have been a part of. Not unless he was going to heal her. Doing better than they have in the past doesn't mean that RT isn't still slipping when it comes to giving him undeserved focus.

They took one of the most controversial characters, controversial because of how much emotional focus he's gotten in the past, and had him help a fan favorite commit suicide while he cried about it, showing more emotion for a near stranger than our title character showed for her sister. This is a character who, up until two or three episodes ago, had no connection to the victim and still has no reason to thematically be the one committing this act. That is why the fandom goes, “The crew loves Jaune and does everything they can to put him in the center of the action.” Ruby, as main character and Penny’s first friend, is the obvious choice here. Pietro, as Penny's father, would be a good choice too. Hell, Nora is a better option given their moment in the Schnee manor this volume. Or Winter given their moments in Volume 7! Have her escape Ironwood, find Penny, receive the powers, and then finish him off. Literally anyone would be better than Jaune, not because Jaune is a bad character, but because Jaune has no emotional stakes here and putting him in a position where he could heal Penny but doesn’t is massively stupid. No one should be surprised that a lot of the fandom is upset about this. It was one hell of a reach to give him this moment and, since Jaune's problem has always been getting too much screen time and emotional nuance compared to our main cast, it's no wonder this act brought up a lot of bad memories. RT fell back into an old pattern after two volumes of improvement and they did so at the worst possible time.

The tl;dr is that Penny's third death is a writing travesty, just like her second. I shouldn't be surprised, given that this is the same volume that tortured a kid and the only thing they did with it was have him blindly trust his torturer... yet I find myself surprised nonetheless. Because Penny had such potential as an android Maiden and, as much as I personally hated it, potential as a former android learning to be human too. But why explore any of that when you can kill her off instead? Again.

As a final, far smaller note about this scene, we have the continuing problem of what purpose Cinder's arm is serving. If everyone recalls, its threat comes primarily from the fact that she can "siphon off" power from other Maidens.

She did it to Penny during the Amity battle and now she does it again, a great deal of green energy absorbed into Cinder. So what's left to give to Winter? Why doesn't Cinder become noticeably stronger with each successful theft? Like so much else in RWBY, we're told it exists without actually seeing the impact of that. Winter isn't a weaker Maiden for having lost power and Cinder isn't a stronger Maiden for having snagged it. It's just.. there, hanging out and looking vaguely menacing, I guess.

Outside of this unnatural not-transfer, we get to see how the power normally passes as Penny meets with Winter in some in-between place. It's a soft, heartfelt scene... with the exception that Winter says, “You were always the real Maiden at heart. I was just the machine. Just following orders."

I don't know how any viewer can doubt that RT now believes machinery = evil. Penny's machine body is magicked away so she can be a real-real girl. Yang announces that the arm she worked hard to make a part of herself is just "extra." The man with half a metal body is made this volume's villain and losing his second arm is, by the authors' own admission, a symbol of his lost humanity. Mercury with two metal legs remains a bad guy while Emerald and Hazel are hastily redeemed. Tyrian with his cybernetic tail is the most devoted crazy of the bunch. Maria, blind and in need of assistive lenses, is so forgotten by the story she was left in the tundra nine episode ago and won't be mentioned again until next volume (if then). Pietro, the guy in the wheelchair, is forgotten too, despite it being his daughter who dies on screen.

Now Winter, also bearing an assistive device, says that she's the real "machine" here and tells Penny, now human, that she was always the "real Maiden." I don't know what happened to make RT do a 180 lately, but the disability rep is no longer what it was.

Penny reassures Winter that she'll always be a part of her and then passes on, for good this time.

The rest of the episode feels lackluster, if I'm being honest. Images of Cinder beating Weiss are intercut with Ironwood beating Winter, getting her to a point where her aura breaks.

But then the powers appear and, as we'd expect, she easily turns the tide.

Gorgeous animation there.

But RT once again rewrites earlier scenes by having Ironwood claim that the "destiny" he chose for Winter has finally arrived — isn't that Cinder's MO? — and Winter shoots back that he chose nothing, this was a "gift." Except, it was never about destiny or orders? This was why Weiss' anger in Volume 7 was ridiculous. She acted like Ironwood forced Winter to accept the powers and Winter told her point blank she chose this. Ironwood didn't decide anything, he offered and Winter chose... kind of like how Penny is choosing now. I hate how nearly all of Ironwood's character has been ignored or, during times like this, outright lied about to make him seem super duper evil. He tried to bomb a city! You don't need to make him seem evil anymore, that job is done! Like their sudden change regarding disability, RT now seems to be allergic to nuance. Heaven forbid Ironwood be allowed to have valid points like he did in Volume 3. No, if you've got an antagonist every single thing they've ever said must be twisted into a display of their evilness.

Unless you're Hazel, who Oscar trusts for #reasons. Unless you're Emerald, who the group immediately embraces. Unless you're Cinder, who gets to cry on a rooftop and secures the trust of her allies long enough to betray them again.

But Ironwood? Nah, screw that guy.

Salt aside, the fight is pretty boring. Winter literally just throws up a wall of ice and Ironwood's blast rebounds, taking him out.

Winter flies through the portal and we return to Jaune. His sword is broken by Cinder, so weapons should be quite the problem in Volume 9.

There's a bit of sword vs. sword Maiden battling — this episode really pulled heavily from both Volume 3 and 5's finales — before Cinder gets smart again and attacks Weiss, currently trying to escape with Jaune. Weiss goes right off the edge and Winter isn't able to reach her in time. That's the entirety of Team RWBY, lost to the magical void.

Kudos to Winter's VA and the writing here though. This feels like an appropriate reaction to losing a sister. Screaming, sobbing, falling to her knees and beating the floor... Ruby, take notes.

A roar sounds through all the portals though, the sort of roar a pissed off witch might give. Jaune convinces Winter they need to leave Cinder behind, but before they can escape Cinder... makes a new wish?

Look, it works on all the major fronts. Cinder has the staff, check. We've basically established that Ambrosius can make an unlimited number of things per era, check. We know the previous thing disappears when a new wish is made, check. My only question is the timing. In all honesty, I'll have to re-watch the scene to be sure, but at the time it felt like the portals began disappearing almost the second Cinder left. Did she really have time to summon Ambrosius, deal with his explanatory nonsense, and get him to make a new wish without any fiddly concerns? Sure, fire is just fire, but it still felt like way too much happening too fast off screen.

Either way, the portals are gone and Winter makes it through in time, but Jaune does not. He falls through the void along with Team RWBY. And Neo.

Neo is the only addition I'm looking forward to here.

We get a few shots of our other characters as Winter arrives, saving the day by taking her grief out on the grimm. So glad something came of Ren breaking his aura again! Maybe they'll be more fighting at the beginning of Volume 9? If we see any of this group outside of 9's finale. My worst fear right now is that we'll spend an entire season away from the main action — remember how I said it would be stupid for Team RWBY to go on a side adventure while Salem is attacking the world? — and when they return there will have been some major time skip. Salem has destroyed most of Remnant, only pockets of survivors remain, it's all dark and dystopian... and oh look, every bit of character development happened off screen. How did Nora discover who she is without Ren? She did it while Team RWBY was gone. That merge we've been teasing for five years? That happened while you were gone too and, btw, Ozpin has ceased to exist. So sad, right? Not that anyone will actually mourn. Just take comfort in the fact that his last line was an "Oh no" about Ambrosius and his last major scene was apologizing for how the group treated him. Emerald's redemption? Off screen. Winter's grief? Off screen. Any and every one of these challenging beats to tackle can be waved away with, "We went through that arc while you were lost in the magical realm. Just get to know our new, improved selves now!"

Please, oh writing gods, don't let that happen.

Though I do worry because my last prediction came true.

But we all knew we’d end up here. My current theory? The portal should still be open at the vault. Winter will fight Ironwood, escape through it, and it will close right before he escapes too. He’ll fall with Atlas and everyone will act as if it’s some beautiful, poetic justice for him to perish with the city.

Ironwood didn't make a break for the portal — too busy being unconscious — but we got everything else. Winter left him, he falls with Atlas, and this is some poetic justice, I guess. Really, it's just an undignified death. I'd hoped for a sympathetic kill, something that showed the characters still cared about him even if they knew Ironwood had to be stopped. Baring that, I'd hoped for an epic battle that took him out with style. Instead, no one even bothers to kill him. Ironwood is now beneath the entire cast, not even worth finishing off. Winter casually tosses his blast back at him and leaves. Cinder throws out a "that's checkmate" and leaves. I don't think Salem even looks at him. Ironwood (presumably) dies with no one and nothing, just a casualty of the city Team RWBY made fall. And I say "presumably" because the audience isn't even given the satisfaction of being sure he's passed on. Like Hazel, Ironwood's death is this weird, ambiguous moment that, based on the other character reactions, isn’t meant to be ambiguous. Is he dead? Most likely. Is it possible, based on what we've seen, that he'll pop up two volumes later like

Yes and, memes aside, that sucks. I don't want to be wondering for the next couple years if Ironwood survived and if they'll bring him back just to drag his character through the mud again. Move on.

But no, we don't even get that.

I've spoken at great deal about Ironwood both in these recaps and on my blog more generally. Last week, I said I'd covered it all and there was no need to rehash it all again. I stand by that, so let me just conclude this travesty with a final note: if your bad guy's final moment is using the last of his strength to point a gun at the actual villain of this story, and you don't realize the problem of how this image contrasts everything else the story has insisted about his character? … I just don't know what to do with that.

Oh, actually, final-final note: Ironwood’s semblance is officially a Schrodinger's semblance. It is both canonical and noncanonical simultaneously. Wooo.

Cinder tells Salem she used her wish to "add more flames to the first of Atlas" and we cut to Watts, trapped in a roaring fire, unsuccessfully trying to break his way out. Wow, I hate that too! Next to Tyrian, Watts was our last remaining, entertaining villain. He carried a lot of the last two volumes and, I had hoped, was going to add some bright spots to the coming volumes as well. Apparently not.

Just another waste.

In addition to this casual, second murder of her ally, Cinder successfully convinces Salem that Neo killed Ruby and Ruby used the Lamp's last question, but she's back in her good graces since she snagged the Relics anyway. “You’ve done well, Cinder. Our work here is done" and they leave, blasting off like a less cool Team Rocket as Atlas plummets into Mantle.

Let's spend a second to tally things up then, shall we? What happens if Ruby, instead of throwing a moral fit, says, "You're right and we never should have lied to you, or betrayed you. But we want to help now. You get the Relics and the Maiden to safety in Atlas, if you can, we'll defend the people of Mantle"?

Well, they can still tell the world about Salem and call for help, much more easily now since Ironwood would likely just give them the code rather than them needing to spend an episode stealing it.

The Staff at least may not have ended up in Salem's hands and the group could have actually focused on getting the Lamp back (also solved if they'd been smart and just put it in the vault to begin with).

Mantle would still have been safe because Salem was never interested in Mantle to begin with.

Atlas wouldn't have fallen.

Ironwood wouldn't have died.

Penny wouldn't have died.

Even Vine wouldn't have died!

Our heroes unambiguously made the situation worse. Rather than banding together with their allies to fight the real enemy, Salem, they pushed until they made enemies of Ironwood and the Ace Ops both. Then they asked for help — which a pinch of logic said would never arrive — and twiddled their thumbs waiting for it. When it was clear none would come they...did nothing. They sat around, upset that the people were in danger, but not willing to do anything about it. It's only when one of their own, Penny, is threatened that they kick into high gear, hitting on a solution that they could have posed to Ironwood from the very start if no one liked the fly away plan. Yet instead of taking a few minutes to brainstorm other ideas — doing anything other than denouncing Ironwood to the rest of the group and attacking the Ace Ops — they spent two days sitting around, fixing minor messes they’d helped to create, then rushed through the portal plan, messing up the wish and stranding an entire kingdom in a sandstorm, with only Winter now to protect them from grimm.

Fantastically done, team.

The villains won, yes, but not because the villains were smart and compelling. Watts' hack on Penny and the heat petered out to nothing and Salem... well, she sat around for the whole volume, expending energy only to torture Oscar and try to (unsuccessfully) stop some escapees. Neo and, miraculously, Cinder did the most damage, but only in the final hour, with this "damage" being that our characters fall into a void that we now know looks remarkably like a paradise! Everything bad that happened was a result of our heroes being stupid and stubborn. That's a compelling story to tell... but RT isn't trying to tell it. Our heroes caused so much damage, yet that damage goes unacknowledged — or worse, ignored into silence like with Ren — and everything else is waved away with the magic wand the series claims isn't there. The cold doesn't kill anyone. Oscar has no problems walking off the torture. Nora hops back out of bed. Ruby one-shots the Hound. The civilians lost to the void must have survived too. The entire kingdom successfully makes it to Vacuo... unless you count the massive army we never saw making use of the portals, but who cares about them, right?

The villains won, there was indeed something resembling consequences, but none of it was emotionally satisfying. Not even when the series tries so hard to insist that emotion is there.

Qrow watches Atlas fall, mouthing Ruby and Yang's names, but it's too little, too late. Where was this care for his nieces when he was obsessed with killing Ironwood? When did they care about him? Was it when Ruby shrugged at his arrest, when neither cared that he was missing, or when they were designing an escape plan that didn't include putting a portal where Qrow could reach? RWBY markets itself around the found family-ness of its cast, but they're done a poor job in recent volumes (not others) of convincing me that most of these characters care for one another. We went from Ruby denouncing all adults, to Ruby pulling an Ozpin with Ironwood, to Ruby watching blandly as her sister falls to her presumed death. This is my hero? This is the simple soul we're supposed to rally behind? Ruby doesn't feel like a character who cares about other people anymore and, given that she leads the charge, neither do most of her friends. Or, when that emotion appears, it's jarring and undeserved. Jaune cries over Penny's death? That's tonally and characteristically backwards.

This volume was the culmination of so many mistakes over the past two years. No, Covid couldn't have made things any easier for the crew — the fact that they got a volume out at all is amazing — but the pandemic isn't to blame for the problems in the story. These seeds have existed since Volume 5, with some (like Jaune) going back even farther. I don't think we're ever going to get that flawed, but emotionally fulfilling RWBY back. The show has dug too deep and unless it somehow manages to create a clean slate — those time travel ideas get more and more alluring! — there's nothing they can do but keep on digging. At this point, I can only hope that the series does wrap up within the next two volumes, rather than dragging RWBY to a Supernatural-esque length.

Our final shot of the episode proper feels fitting for what this volume has been. Atlas and Mantle flood rather than exploding, something that makes a certain amount of sense, sure, but definitely wasn't what I was expecting. And after all these shocking images — Penny dying, the grimm attacking, our main characters disappearing in a puff of gold dust — we end it all with bits of random debris. It's strange and underwhelming. Out of everything you could have done with the options you had, you choose to do this?

Of course, RWBY always has an after-credits scene (RIP Raven's, still amounting to nothing). Here, the sounds of water return to show us a beach. Crescent Rose imbedded in the sand, mirroring its classic pose in the snow.

There's a tree. It's a very different kind of tree from what we saw in Volume 6, but the height and shape is nevertheless reminiscent of Light's domain.

A tree of life, anyone? After all, the group has fallen into a dimension created by a Relic, the gift of Light himself. It certainly seems as if RWBY is heading towards another encounter with the Gods, though what that will look like and how narratively satisfying it will be remains to be seen.

As for our bingo board, RWBY certainly pulled its weight! Only three squares got gold stars: Watts and Jacques didn't manage another team up because both are dead, Oscar didn't apologize for getting shot because he was too busy being tortured, and Qrow didn't drink likely because he didn't have access to any alcohol across the whole volume. Can't say that's a stellar result. The final image is something to behold though lol.

What a mess.

And on that less than exciting note... we’re done. This has been the volume of desertion, with a large number of fans telling me that they will no longer watch RWBY, but baring something entirely unexpected in my future, I'll be back next volume, for whatever that's worth. It never ceases to amaze me that even one person would give these nonsense recaps the time of day, so in all seriousness: thank you for reading. You rock.

Now go forth and fill the hiatus with great RWBY content!

✌️

#suicide tw #rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby the final word

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tlou-1 · 4 years ago

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Joel Miller x Reader (Home) Chapter 20

Chapter 20 - Joel still hasn't returned from patrol, you set off after him and what you find is beyond what you could have worried about.

You look at the clock again, 11:15 and still Joel wasn’t back. You had been pacing the kitchen with Patrick playing at your feet, Joel was over an hour late. Another half an hour passed and you couldn’t sit in the house any longer. You picked up Patrick and made your way to Maria’s post for the day in town, “Maria it’s been two hours and none of them are back. Looks at the clouds out there, somethings wrong I can just feel it” You plead with her but she just says they have probably bunkered down with the snow, “and nothing on the radio either?” You ask, she shakes her head. Right that settled it, you turned and made your way to your sisters. Before Molly could greet you as she opened the door you began “Joel has been out since dark this morning and still isn’t back. I need you to take Patrick for me”, you try to hand him to her but she says “No”, there is a pause for a moment “No? What do you mean No, Molly I really need” but she interrupts you by grabbing a jacket and locking her door, “Because I am coming with you. We can drop him off at the day care”.

You and Molly try to sneak into the stables to retrieve a horse each but of course Maria had you sussed and was waiting for you. “Maria I need to go out there, I know it sounds crazy but I have a bad feeling” you argue.

“You’re right, it does sound crazy“ she responds, she was always so set on rules.

“Do you know what, maybe it does but it’s your husband out there as well. Tell me you aren’t worried about them being out there with no sleep, in a blizzard with reports of hoards of infected. I am more capable than most folk in this town and I am going out there” you say sternly close to her face and she knew you were not going to budge.

“Okay” she concedes and proceeds to pass you the reigns of the horse and your bag back filled with your gear. “I cant spare many folks to go out with you, Jesse, Dina and Ellie are already out there you can meet them at one of the posts” she explains. Jesus now your worry turned to them but your line of thought is interrupted by the radio, it was Jesse. “Maria, Tommy and Joel didn’t show to trade off” he explained. You take the radio from Maria, “Jesse its Y/N, where were they patrolling? Can you get, Ellie and Dina and meet me there?” You ask, he agrees to your plan. Your sister in laws body language had changed during the exchange.

“We need to go now” you shout to Molly as your get on your horse and take off. Behind you Molly is following and Maria had saddled up obviously now sharing in your worry.

The wind and snow was harsh and whipped at your face as you rode ahead as fast as the horse would carry you, you must have been not far behind Ellie now. Neither Joel or Tommy’s had been at their post but their tracks had led you to a Chalet you had visited a couple of times on patrols. As you approached closer you could see more than two sets of tracks, they were disrupted slightly from the storm but there was defiantly a number of different footprints, other people were here. You had to be smart about this, the rest of the guys were still a bit behind you. You move into the building as quietly as possible and have to take out one guy standing watch at a patio door, he had a fresh cut right across his face. If anyone finds him they will know someone else is here, you had to move swiftly. As soon as enter the lodge you can hear cries of pain, guttural cries. It makes your stomach churn, you were right to have had a bad feeling. One more girl is pacing in the kitchen, you silence her by taking your small knife down on her. It had been a number of years since you had taken the life of a living person but you didn’t hesitate after hearing those cries.

You follow the cries to a narrow staircase with a door at the bottom of it, you could feel your heart in you mouth as you took each step closer to the door. You peer through the slight crack and see a group of unfamiliar people and a figure standing above a bloody one. You take a breath remember where each person was standing, attach your silencer and pushing open the door quietly, you take out the three people closest to the door, one dead ahead the other two to your right side. You were still one of the best shots without a doubt, maybe just as good as Tommy. There were three left by the time they realised what had happened and your presence, a young man standing next to a women with cropped dark hair and a large women standing above the bloody figure, it was Joel along with Ellie and Tommy unconscious.

The man goes to grab a pistol, lying next to the body of one of the men you just shot and without hesitation you reach round to your backpack pocket. Thank god it was still there.

“Don’t any of you fucking move, or I will blow up everyone of us in this room” you spit out as you hold the grenade in their sight. They each stop in their tracks and the large girl standing above your husband loosens her grip on club. Joel tires to speak but barely a sound escapes his lips.

“You’re bluffing, why would y-“ she begins.

“Try me”, you challenge her and there is a long pause “You let them go… you leave here and everyone gets to walk away from this or every single one of us just end it here”. This was madness but what other chance had you got, either way the people you loved could wind up dead, the only thing to stop these strangers was the threat of loosing their own lives and if it meant you went with them, so be it.

“No, not him, not after what he did.” The girl lifted the club but you jump in “What ever he did, I am walking out of here with him, our daughter and that other man alive or none of us are”

“He took everything from us! Killed my father, ruined any chance of a cure” the women says lowly shaking her head.

“You’re fireflies?” You ask looking around at them but you already know the answer from what she had said.

“Were. There are none, left he made sure of that. Killed most of us.” She answers. You speak without thinking, a stupid thing to do.

“I don’t blame him… Protecting her, I would have done the same. They were going to butcher the brain of a child, our daughter for the smallest chance of cure. If that’s the price for a potential cure and humanity were so eager and willing to pay it, we didn’t deserve it. I know that much.”

She looks like she has seen red and goes to lift the club again but before she can send it crashing down one of the fireflies, the man stops her and you have pulled the pin on the grenade keeping your finger firmly pressed on the clip as he intervenes.

“Abby stop! She is going to kill all of us” he pleads with her looking between Abby and the women behind him with cropped dark hair that he called Mel. Your hand is shaking from your firm grip on the clip.

“Are you insane?” The man asked, “When it comes to my family, yes” You reply looking down at Joel and Ellie.

“Figures, crazy man, crazy wife” scoffs the other woman says looking between you and Joel.

“Don’t fucking touch him. I am giving you all a chance, take it. If I let go of this clip, dead or alive it only takes two seconds for this thing to go off”. You try sounding as calm as possible and it seems to pay off but inside your terrified more than you had ever been. In your head you pray, you had never prayed in your life, for them to leave, for the woman to put down the club, for them not to shoot you, for this bomb to be a dud like Joel had said but for them to not find out it was.

You can hear commission from upstairs as the rest of the search party have caught up with you, you had bought all the time you needed. Owen grabs Mel by the arm and leaves through garage door.

“You should go with your friends”

Abby looks torn for a moment her eyes fixed on Joel before she flings the golf club to her side and takes off, on horse back alongside her friends but you felt this part of the past would rear its ugly head again.

As soon as it sounds clear you carefully place the pin back in the grenade and fall to the floor, guess you will never know if it was a dud or you almost killed everyone in this room. Ellie is still breathing but bruised, you look across at Tommy, the same. Your husband, you crawl across to Joel, the ground around him covered in blood you can feel it soaking your jeans.

“Jesus, Joel can you hear me?” you say softly, tears in your eyes from the sight of him. His right eye swollen, strips of blood pouring down his face from a couple gashes he had taken on the head. You were worried to touch him in case it caused any more pain, it was hard to look at him like this.

“You got to stay with me, you cant leave me, you hear? You promised” you cry just as Maria, Jesse, Dina and Molly enter the room.

“Holy Fuck” Jesse whispers. You beg them to help Joel, Dina checks on Ellie who is starting to gain consciousness along with Tommy.

“The storm has almost passed, Jesse and Dina find something we can make a stretcher out of. We can strap it to one of the horses and pull him back”. Maria says at her husbands side, it was the best anyone could do in the dead of winter. No one even thought about going after the remaining three strangers, what was important was the three people who each of you loved in this room.

You rode behind Jesse who’s horse is pulling Joel the entire trip, he sometimes groans or shifts and all you want to do is ask to stop and let him rest but there was no time for it, you had to get back as swiftly as possible. As soon as you arrive back in Jackson men are there to carry Joel’s stretcher into the surgery, you follow behind asking Dr Henry if he would be okay. She didn’t respond focusing solely on Joel, she tells you to stay in the hallway and when you start to protest and push forward Jesse is there pulling you back and when you stop fighting him into a hug. You finally let out a cry from everything, the horror of what you had seen, what you had almost done and at the thought of your husband’s life still hanging in the balance. Everything goes to black for a moment.

*NOTES - I have to say I found this one pretty difficult to write so I apologise if it doesn't land as well as the other chapters. There is just so much that happens. I have decided to deviate slightly from the game, we have all seen the dark ending for Joel in the game so lets try something different

#the last of us fanfic #The Last of Us #The Last of Us Part 2 #The Last of Us Part ii #Joel Miller #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou joel #tloufanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #Ellie Williams #ellie x joel #tlou ellie #tlou dina #tlou jesse

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builder051 · 3 years ago

Text

The talk

Chasing Ghosts

(I generally do not play in this arena; DO NOT ask for other stories with PMS, etc., as illness features. I do loosely plan to continue this thread, though. Or @mohini-musing might pick up for me.)

Warnings: weight (though not ED context), SA inc. prostitution, blood, emeto

____________________________

Tasha comes down the hall and stands like a ghost behind the sofa.

James is in the recliner across the living room, and he barely looks up from the textbook he's pretending to peruse. The quiet music he's had playing in one ear has long since captured his attention more than the multiplication of matrices. He's fairly sure he'll never use the skill lest he become a software engineer post-graduation, and the prospect of that's looking pretty slim.

He sees Tasha out of his peripheral vision, but doesn't move his head or lift his eyes for acknowledgment. She's probably drifted down from her weekend high, realized it's Sunday night, and gotten up for a Gatorade and maybe a glance at her homework.

Steve, though, who's lying on his stomach and taking up the whole of the couch, practically jumps to attention. He stands, scoots, and sits again in the amount of time it takes James to blink and make the first inhalation of a laugh.

"Sorry," Steve says, as if he's personally offended Tasha and just been called out. "I didn't mean... I was just, like, studying..."

Tasha shrugs. "Didn't come to sit with you," she says, in a voice that recalls the 'boys are gross' tone of young teenagerhood.

"What's up, then?" James asks, trying to bring back the balance of the room's atmosphere.

Tasha makes an ugly face. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. "Can I talk to you alone?"

James scoffs. "You think there's privacy in this apartment?"

"I can go, I don't know--" Steve looks around.

"Just talk," James says. He almost rolls his eyes, but the undercurrent of Tasha's affect seems to hold an air of seriousness. If there's something she needs to confess or ask for help with, he doesn't want her to feel less than secure.

Tasha lets out a breathy sort of sigh. "Blood," she says. "There's blood."

"Huh?" Steve responds first. "Where?"

James takes a little longer to contemplate the admission. Has she cut herself? There's no visible damage; Tasha's not holding an injury or howling in pain. Bloody vomit? That's nothing new, really, and even with vampire-red teeth, which she doesn't have, Tasha probably wouldn't come crying to him.

James is still thinking when Tasha points vaguely down the hall and to the left, which is, technically speaking, her side of the apartment. Or at least the bedroom and bathroom they'd parceled out for her when they'd unofficially moved her out of her dreary campus housing.

"What, in your room?" Steve asks.

"No." Tasha screws up her eyes. "I mean... I'm bleeding."

The cogs continue to turn in James's head, and just as he lands on an answer, Steve gives up, shaking his head and saying, "I don't get it."

"Fuck you," Tasha mumbles. "Both of you." She turns and starts to head back down the hallway.

"Tash." James jumps to his feet, his algebra book falling to the floor.

"You guys are fucking gay..."

"Hey!" Steve interjects.

James flaps his hand at Steve to shut him up. "Maybe we're gay, but I'm your big brother." He shoots a quick glance at Steve, hoping this won't surpass his no privacy promise. They've done some pretty wild stuff together: partying, puking, cleaning the carpet... Period talk shouldn't be too far out of their wheelhouse. At least, not if Tasha wants to talk about it.

Tasha huffs and rounds the edge of the sofa. She stands beside the arm, leaning her hip against it for a moment, before finally deciding to sit down, as far away from Steve as possible.

"I..." James starts, assuming it's his responsibility to keep the conversation going. "I assumed you hadn't been, um. You know."

Tasha's 100 pounds soaking wet. In her usual cutoff shorts and tank tops, he'd give her 95. Maybe 92 if she's detoxing. James assumes she has something like female athlete triad going on, except without the athlete. He doesn't like to think she's just too skinny to go through... normal biological processes. If he blames the drugs, sees them as wrecking her body instead of bringing her solace, then he'll have to turn eyes on himself, and there's no way in hell he wants to do that.

"Smart one," Tasha says. "And exactly how much thought do you give to the functioning of my uterus?"

Steve gives an 'oh shit' face, looking from James to Tasha and back again as if wondering how he's been so thick headed. James agrees, but is also relieved, in a way, that his boyfriend hasn't been thinking about his sister in, well, that way.

"Seeing as I have, more than once, pulled you out of an R-rated situation with iffy consent, and you have yet to become pregnant--" James starts.

"Yeah, ok, you don't have to..." Tasha shakes her head.

James decides not to stop his momentum. "Do you know how much sex you're having? How often you're using protection?"

"I said, you don't have to." Tasha glares at him. "I don't have one. A cycle, or whatever. I can't get knocked up."

"Well, I figured that, but you can still get an STD--

"I don't think you're hearing me," Tasha says. "I don't have one. I haven't. Like, ever."

"But--what?" James squints and cocks his head. "What about, what was it? Cheerleading camp?"

"That stupid summer program when I was 16?" Tasha bites her lip. "Yeah, that was a lie."

"You're losing me." Steve reminds them he's part of the conversation as well.

"What, didn't your mom send you to cheerleading camp when you were a sullen teen?" Tasha asks him, seemingly in all seriousness.

"Um. No." Steve withers a little under her stare. "There was a threat to beat it out of me with a bible when I was that age, but that never came to fruition."

"Mm. Fun times." Tasha scrubs her hair back from her face. "I told mom of the moment I started at camp, so then she couldn't go nuts about the moment I 'became a woman,' or whatever."

Tasha has always seemed like a little kid to James. Her stint at camp had only taken place... he quickly calculates... 3ish years ago. Tasha is a kid. She hasn't busted 20 years old yet. But, for the first time James wonders if other, more metaphorical factors are at play.

The idea quickly fades, though, when he remembers the actual topic at hand. "Ok, but Tash," James says. "What's actually going on right now?"

Tasha practically sinks into the couch cushions. She wraps both arms around her abdomen. "Blood," she says. "Kinda...everywhere."

"We'll clean the bathroom later," James says dismissively.

"And I'll do laundry," Steve offers. "I used to be the scrawny kid who got beat up a lot. I can do bloodstains."

"Not helping, babe," James tells him before Tasha can get a word in.

"Feel sick," Tasha admits, rather suddenly.

"Bathroom it is, then," James decides. "But, let's use mine."

Tasha seems to have turned into a shapeless blob on the corner of the couch, her chest meeting her thighs with her arms still wrapped around her stomach. Her face is in her knees, which James has to admit, would be easier to clean than the carpet.

"Come on," he says gently, taking Tasha's shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, don't do it here, please."

"But I already diiiiid," Tasha complains, drawing out the last word and adding the hiccup of a fake crying fit.

"Sorry." James hooks his flesh arm across Tasha's chest and lets her cling to him down the hall. He takes her into his and Steve's disorganized yet bleach-shined bathroom. Cleaning was practically Steve's hobby. Yet keeping down the clutter? Not his strong suit.

Unsure of exactly what kind of sick his sister intends to be, he sets her down, fully clothed, on the toilet, which, of course, has the seat up. Then he dives for the trash can and shoves it into Tasha's chest.

She gives James an appreciative glare, then sets her chin on the edge of the trash can, ostensibly to wait for an upcoming retch. James can practically see it, rising from the bottom of her spine, up her back, to her neck and throat before finally pushing a pitiful amount of spit and bile out of her mouth.

"Ok..." James sighs. If she's down to just that, she's been at it a while. Lost a lot of fluids already.

"Gatorade?" Steve asks in a chipper tone, putting voice to what James is thinking without a trace of delicacy.

"Hmph." Tasha spits. "If it'll... make it stop burning..."

"Lemme guess, vodka last night?" James tries to make her laugh. Maybe cough.

"Fuck you."

"Eh, we'll talk about that later," James says, hoping he doesn't sound threatening. "For now, how about I go with you?" James pulls on Steve's arm and heads for the bathroom door.

"Hey, you said no privacy here..." Tasha's irritated and sickly voice trails after them.

"Yeah, well, puking people aren't allowed to leave the bathroom," James says. "That's the house rule that trumps all the others."

"But I puke on the couch all the time--"

"That's because it's too hard to get your fucking limp-ass octopus body into the bathroom in the first place." James rolls his eyes. "Just sit tight."

He quickly drags Steve into the kitchen. "Ok," he says. "You have to know about this stuff. You took health class in high school, right?"

"I've lived with a woman," Steve reminds James, a little shamefully. "But Peggy was super private. You know, like inhibited, about, like, um..."

"Yeah, I get it." James shrugs. Then, "Did you know you can stem a nosebleed with a tampon?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know..." James shakes his head.

"Why do you?" Steve looks a little take aback now.

"The field. Desert air's pretty damn dry."

"Ah. Ok."

"We'd get donations of shit from the states. Care packages, Costco overstock, you know. Just, whatever. When we got pads and stuff, whoever was unloading the box would just hold them over their head and yell 'who needs them?'"

"And I'm assuming people would just raise their hands?" Steve postulates.

"Yup." James pops the P. "No privacy. Everyone knows everyone else's bathroom habits. When you're deep in the field, there's no men's and women's facilities. Half the time the privies don't even have doors."

"Ok." Steve nods. "Experience, then. You have lots of experience."

James shrugs again. "You have to be chill, ok?" He opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. He holds one to either side of Steve's neck, as if to physically cool him. "This is, like, super weird and awkward for her. She's really scared, I think, and her brave face just looks...jerk-ish."

"Yeah." Steve takes the Gatorade. "I can be good with this. I really care about her, even if she doesn't think I do."

"I know you do," James says. "It's all in the presentation right now, though. She's skittish. But, also, for some reason, willing to talk. We have to tease it out. And you can't ruin it, ok?"

"Ok, ok." Steve seems to understand, even if he doesn't appreciate the words.

They head back to the bathroom, where Tasha has, for whatever reason, decided to heave into the toilet instead of the trash. She squats awkwardly, sitting on one heel. From the angle he's at, James can see a spreading stain on the back of Tasha's shorts, which has made an imprint on her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Don't move," James says, reaching for a towel.

"The fuck would I?" Tasha coughs, holding her stomach and moaning.

"Well, when you're done, stand up slowly and wipe your feet."

"...Shit..." Tasha spits. "Like I said. It's fucking everywhere."

"Yeah..." Menstrual blood, James has no experience with. But blood in general, yeah. It does get fucking everywhere. There's that first moment when the entire body and all its systems are still in shock, like when the arm is first blown off, and then all he can see is red. Even the bone that was white just a second ago is lost in a sea of scarlet--

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Steve says with a grin, clearly trying to be friendly, but missing out on one, or more, of the points. "You're not pregnant."

"Well, of course I'm not, you dingbat," Tasha replies, rolling her eyes so hard that James is sure it must give her a headache. If she doesn't already have one. "And besides. He used a condom."

"Wait," James says. He's been preoccupied by not looking at Steve. "You know that?" he pokes cautiously. "For sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Every time?"

"To be honest," Tasha starts, spitting and pushing herself away from the toilet. She crab-walks to the towel, wipes her feet, then sits on it, criss-cross like a little kid. "I don't know if he actually gets off every time." She draws her mouth into a straight, defensive line.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" James asks.

Steve looks very much like he wants to get the bleach from the cabinet under the sink, pour it into one ear, tip his head, and see if it comes out the other.

"He pulls out," Tasha says bluntly. "And there's never any, you know. Gunk."

"Wait, he does both?" Steve's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "A condom and--"

"Ok, ok." James puts up his hands to shush them both. "And this is, what, this is your dealer we're talking about?"

"Yeah, I guess, if you want to call him that," Tasha says with a shrug.

"What else would we call him?" Steve now looks disgusted. "That'd be stupid to let him just, like, defile you every week."

"He doesn't--" Tasha starts, but then she hiccups, and maybe thinks better of what she was going to say. She still stares Steve down, though, then looks to James as if grasping at straws of support.

"He's, like, a manufacturer?" Tasha turns her gaze sideways.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." James puts his hand over his face. He'd assumed Tasha was getting her stuff on the street, through a framework of various interlopers. Now he's getting news that his kid sister is taking substances thrown together in some coed's bathtub? This is too much.

"Tash--" James starts, trying hard to keep his bubbling anger and concern from spilling over.

"He's a PhD candidate," Tasha says defensively. In Chemistry. And--" her eyes flicker from side to side as she seems to wonder what's appropriate to spill. "I won't tell you his name. But... I'll tell you that he got kicked off the football team for being too violent, but he still wears his green jersey all the time to prove how much better and calmer he's become since that happened, which was only in the freshman year of his undergrad..." Tasha babbles on.

The more she defends the guy, the more James hates him. He feels bad for him a little, slinging synthesized crack to get by. He feels better for Tasha, knowing that what she's taking is most probably pure. But the sex thing is--

"It's kinda creepy," Steve says, taking the words right from James's mouth. "Like, how much older than you is he?"

"I don't know." Tasha shrugs. "Not that much, I don't think. Started school early, finished fast. And I'm not sure this is his first post-graduate program..."

"Maybe shouldn't've added that last part," James says, screwing up his eyes. "So he's had, like, however long to prey on girls who are barely legal. Who might not even be legal..."

"Well, I'm legal, and I can do what I want." Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," James sighs. "Unfortunately."

"But what about the thing with the handcuffs? The gang rape? Losing your bra?" Steve blurts out.

"Wait, you..." Tasha's eyes flash with anger. "You told him?"

"What did I say about privacy?" James quickly reminds her. "The non-puking kind? And, um," He looks to Steve. "Maybe a little respect?"

"Sorry," Steve mutters. "But--I really do--"

"I don't really remember that stuff," Tasha says.

James studies her face, but he can't tell if she's lying.

"Probably just party stuff that got out of hand."

'You mean you were too stoned to know the difference between your regular and some random dude off the street,' James thinks. 'What do you do at parties? And how the fuck do you slip past me?'

"He's your pimp, too, isn't he?" Steve asks, pointing at Tasha rather accusatorially, in James's opinion.

"No!" Tasha leans forward and brings her arms down to cover her clearly still sore abdomen. "Bruce wouldn't--" She swallows. "I didn't-- You didn't hear--"

James hasn't been a student long enough to know who was on the football team 4, 5, 6-odd years ago. He supposes he could look it up, crossing the name with accounts of any violent incident that amount of time ago. He's not sure he wants to, though he'll probably wind up looking it up later. Either that, or Steve will. James still has his ex-mil connections, a few of which were absorbed into the local police force. Steve, on the other hand, is better with social media and navigating the niceties of such mysteries as SnapChat and TikTok.

"Ok, fine," James says, just ameliorate his sister's panic.

"He doesn't even drug me at parties," Tasha goes on, probably unaware of how terribly young and desperate she sounds, making lame-ass excuses so she can keep her boy toy.

"And you've had other guys who did?" Steve asks incredulously, even though James shakes his head frantically at him to try to get him to shut up.

"You know Rumlow?" Tasha asks, since apparently she's now all about spilling names.

James shakes his head, but Steve screws up his eyes and says in a disgusted voice, "him?"

"Yeah..." Tasha sighs and looks down at her fingernails, which are stained rust-red at the root. "Remember the night I didn't come home?"

"Yeah, and scared the living shit out of us because your phone was off," James fills in the blanks.

"Well, I didn't turn it off."

"You mean that asshole kept you overnight without any means of getting yourself out of there?" Steve looks downright sick. "I mean, I know he looks slimy, but that?"

"I think Maria accidentally slept on the couch and found me at, like, 6am trying to stick my head in the linen closet because I couldn't find the bathroom." Tasha laughs, though the situation is anything bur funny.

"And I was so pissed at her for having you out all night..." James trails off.

"Yeah, maybe respect my choices a little more?" Tasha glares at him. "I mean, Maria's studying to become an EMT now. You can't think that badly of her."

'Great,' James thinks. 'Someone who'll drug Tasha to the gills every weekend.' She'll be less likely to overdose, but James has seen it all too often in the field. Newly minted medical personnel eager to sow off their skills and rushing into action.

"Yeah," James says, trying not to smirk. "So you got a girlfriend and a boyfriend now?"

"Ew, no," Tasha replies. "Friends with...benefits, I guess. If you even want to call it that. Folks who look out for each other, using a barter system?"

"Did you recently take World History?" James can't help but poking at her vocabulary.

"Fucking-a, I don't know. Once I pass, it's in my past."

"That's actually a good motto," Steve points out.

"Anyway," James says, bringing the conversation back to topic. "None of your...friends... are invited to this house."

"It's not like I want to bring them over for dinner," Tasha replies. "I guess drop off and pickup might happen, since, well, you know now, and I don't have a car." She shrugs. "Cool?"

James hates the idea of someone inebriated driving a car in which his sister is a passenger, despite the fact that he's done it before. Regularly, actually. Maybe he just hates the idea of the driver being someone who Tasha just fucked. The air might be heavy between them. They might smell like each other's deodorant and musk. They might kiss each other good bye. The thought makes James's stomach turn.

But, "sure," he says. "That's fine.” At least she'll come home.

James shares a glance with Steve, which seems to confirm the same sentiments, "Yeah," Steve echoes, as if his opinion counts for anything. "Fine."

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sugarandspace · 4 years ago

Text

Some of us are human (Sterek)

(posted on AO3 under the pseud aconitum)

Summary: While researching the newest threat with Stiles, Derek comes across a box under Stiles' bed. The box has the words "open when I'm dead" written on it and for a moment Derek forgets how to breathe.

Word count: 2,446

Warnings: for a moment Derek thinks Stiles might be suicidal (he's not), there's also talk about death (but no one dies) and a mention of the nogitsune and the darkness inside Stiles

A/N: check out this beautiful gifset made by my talented friend @sparkandwolf who also helped me with the fic!! 💙

Read on AO3

Stiles’ desk lamp is a little too bright for Derek’s liking and he’s sure it’s going to give him a headache soon. Maybe Stiles would be okay with switching places. Derek looks at the bed where Stiles has been sitting with his laptop. The bed is full of printed out articles and notes Stiles has been taking and Derek doesn’t dare touch them in fear that he’s going to mess up the other man’s organized chaos. He’s going to have to ask him once he comes back from the bathroom.

Stiles is back in Beacon Hills for the winter break and they are at Stiles’ researching the newest creature that has arrived in the town. The amount of books and notebooks and other sources Stiles has on his bookshelf is honestly impressive, and they hope they can find something that could tell them what they are up against.

One of the scrolls - yes scrolls, Derek has no idea where Stiles has found scrolls - falls from the desk when Derek turns to face it again. It rolls under Stiles’ bed and Derek gets up from the desk chair to kneel on the floor so he can see under the bed and can see where it rolled. It’s not far and he can easily reach it.

Just as he’s about to get back up, he notices an old shoe box under Stiles’ bed. It’s not what catches his attention, there are plenty of things under the younger man’s bed, but what makes him stop and stare at the box are the words written on the side of it, bold black letters in Stiles’ handwriting:

OPEN WHEN I’M DEAD

Derek stares at the box for a moment, feeling like his whole world has come to a halt. When he’s able to move he pulls the box from under the bed and sits more comfortably on the floor, bringing the box to his lap. He doesn’t even stop to think if it’s okay before he opens the lid and looks into the box.

Privacy be damned, if Stiles is planning on dying he needs to know everything.

Derek knows that some darkness still lingers inside of Stiles from when he, Scott, and Allison died for a moment a few years ago when they were trying to save their parents. The same darkness that made him vulnerable to the nogitsune. A darkness that will never completely go away.

But Derek didn’t know that it was affecting him this deeply. Was Stiles suicidal? The thought makes his heart race in panic.

What he finds from the box makes his eyebrows furrow. The box has three light blue envelopes in it, each of them addressed to someone. The first one is for the Sheriff, the second one for Scott, and the third one is for... Derek?

It’s in that moment that Stiles walks back to the room. Derek had been so distracted by the box he hadn’t even heard him walk up the stairs. Derek looks up from the envelope he’s holding - the one with his name written on in Stiles’ handwriting - and can easily see the moment Stiles realises what he’s holding.

Stiles’ hand goes to the back of his neck in a nervous manner and he tries to laugh, but it comes out weak.

“So you found those,” he says. “Neat.”

The situation is very far from neat and Derek doesn’t know what to say. He’s not good with serious conversations and to be honest the flippant tone Stiles is going for grates Derek’s nerves, because this is a serious topic and Stiles’ isn’t allowed to make fun of it.

“What are these?” his tone comes out accusing now that he’s gotten over the shock of finding the letters.

“Listen,” Stiles starts and lets out a deep sigh as he leans against the doorframe, giving up instead of trying to argue. “I’ve seen things - I’ve done things no 20-year-old should ever have to have done. Is it really so unreasonable for me to be prepared for the unfortunate but very possible situation where some supernatural creature will eventually shoot me or maim me or cast me under a curse that no one will be able to break? I don’t have supernatural healing properties. Let’s be real, I’m lucky to still be alive.”

At some point during his speech Stiles had gotten defensive and even though he’s wrapped his arms around his chest in a protective manner Derek can hear his heart beat faster than normal beneath his ribs. Derek can smell hints of embarrassment in the air, but it’s paired with determination. Stiles really does believe in what he’s saying.

And it breaks Derek’s heart.

He’s gone through his own share (and a little more) of bad things in his life, and he knows very well how dangerous the supernatural world can be. But it still hurts somewhere deep in his chest to hear the words Stiles is saying. In no small part because he knows it’s true. Stiles’ mind and soul might be as tough as that of a strong werewolf, but his human body is fragile.

“And I’m part of the reason you’re a part of this world,” Derek says. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud but he can’t help it when the realisation comes to him.

Stiles walks over to him and sits on the floor as well, taking the letter from Derek’s hands and putting it back to the box, which he pushes back under the bed. Derek wants to say that it’s a bit too late for the whole “out of sight, out of mind” thing and that box is probably going to come to haunt Derek’s dreams in the following nights, but he stays quiet.

“No,” Stiles says. It’s short and sure and he makes sure Derek is looking him in the eyes before he continues. “You stop that right now. I won’t let you blame yourself for this. You know what got me into this world? My curiosity. It was my choice to go looking for a body in the woods in the middle of the night, my choice to keep hanging with Scott when he became a werewolf. It’s been, and always will be, my choice to accompany you all to your battles. My choice. I’m aware of all the risks. I don’t regret learning about the supernatural. Ignorance might be bliss but knowledge keeps me safe. That way I can protect myself and the people I care about.”

Derek doesn't know what to say to that. He’s suddenly hit with how much Stiles has grown in the past few years. He’s gone through a lot and he’s not as carefree as he used to be, but this life hasn’t turned him cold. There’s humor and sarcasm in hard places but there’s also wisdom and strength.

“Do you understand me?” Stiles asks. His voice has gone softer now, the determination has made room for gentleness, for the need to be understood.

“Yeah,” Derek replies. He does.

“Those letters are just in case,” Stiles says and looks towards the bed where the box is once again hidden beneath it. “I don’t want anything to be left unsaid if I’m taken from here too soon.”

That sparks a question in Derek, one he’s not sure if he should voice. He understands the letter for the sheriff and he understands the one for Scott. The sheriff is Stiles’ father and Scott is like a brother to him. But Derek? They’ve gotten far from when Stiles accused him of murder and he mainly communicated with threats and glares. They’ve become good friends. But Derek doesn’t see a letter for Lydia or Liam or Isaac. There’s something Stiles wants to tell him that he feels like he can’t say to his face. Something important. In the end the curiosity wins and he asks, “What do you want to say to me?”

Stiles’ eyes widen.

“I think I’d rather wait until I’m dead,” he says and goes to get up but Derek takes a hold of his wrist.

“I want to know now,” he says gently. He feels nervous and he hopes Stiles doesn’t notice that his hands are sweating a little.

Stiles looks uncomfortable when he sits back down.

“Don’t make me wrestle you to get to that letter,” Derek threatens, only half-serious.

“You wouldn’t,” Stiles says and narrows his eyes at Derek. Still, Derek notices how he angles himself slightly more between Derek and the box.

He wouldn’t. Stiles is allowed to have secrets, no matter how much Derek would want to know.

“Obviously you don’t have to,” Derek says. “But I’d really like to know. It’s clearly something important if you’d want me to know in case you died.”

Just saying that - of talking about the possibility that Stiles might die anytime soon - makes Derek’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He cares about the other man more than he’s cared about anyone in a while, more than is probably acceptable to care about someone who’s only supposed to be your friend, even if said friend is also your packmate.

“It might ruin everything,” Stiles warns, but Derek can see that he’s warming up to telling him.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” Stiles says and tries to laugh, but it comes out flat.

It might be unfair but Derek uses his senses to get a better read on Stiles. When he breathes in the other man’s scent, among the nervousness he can smell a hint of longing, and a little bit of hope finds its way to Derek’s heart.

Could it be possible that the feelings he has for Stiles were reciprocated? Derek tries not to let the hope grow too much. He’s tried so hard to keep those feelings buried as deep as he could, knowing that Stiles deserves better than him. It’s easier to do that when he imagines that Stiles would never want to be more than friends with him.

“I won’t force you,” Derek tells him honestly. “But I’d like to know.”

Stiles looks at him for a long time, probably weighing his options. It’s clear that he wants to tell Derek, wants to believe that nothing would change, but the fear is persistent.

“Can you honestly say that you’ll be okay with never hearing my answer?” Derek tries, and that seems to do it for Stiles.

“I like you,” he blurts out in a similar way Stiles often blurts things, only this time instead of rushing to talk more Stiles freezes in fear like he’s waiting for something bad to happen.

Derek doesn’t know what to say because Stiles’ words leave room for interpretation. Derek can’t know for sure if Stiles means it the way Derek hopes or if he means it in a way he does when he talks about the fries from the local diner. Though, as Derek thinks about it, Stiles wouldn’t be so scared to admit it if his feelings were platonic.

Stiles has been brave and he’s meeting Derek half-way, it’s only fair Derek takes the remaining step to meet him there.

“I like you too,” he says.

Stiles, it turns out, doesn’t hesitate to ask refining questions.

“You mean like… like-like, don’t you?” He asks, not giving Derek time to reply before he’s rambling on, obviously nervous. “Because otherwise this is embarrassing. Oh god, I should have waited until after I die. Is it too late for that? Because Derek if you’re not going to say anything anytime soon I might really die. Death by embarrassment, a new way to go but I bet no one who knows me would be surprised to hear that Stiles Stilinski was the first one to die of embarrassment. I can already see the headstone. Here lies Stiles Sti-”

Stiles doesn’t get to finish because Derek leans in and kisses him. Derek’s been dreaming about this moment many times, has hoped that he could stop the other man from rambling by kissing him speechless, and now he finally can.

It’s better than he dreamed.

Stiles’ lips are soft and he returns the kiss as soon as his brain catches up with the situation. The kiss is tentative, just a touch of lips, but somehow it feels like something huge.

“Oh wow,” Stiles says when they pull away from each other.

When Derek opens his eyes Stiles is still really close, and he smiles when Stiles’ hand comes up to gingerly touch his jaw. Derek wants to tell him that he’s not going to break, but he doesn’t remember the last time someone has touched him so gently. He leans into the touch and smiles.

“Oh wow,” Stiles repeats. “I think you broke me.”

“I’m sorry?” Derek says, to which Stiles snorts.

“You’re forgiven,” he says and leans in to kiss Derek again. This time the kiss turns deeper, more sure now that they both know to expect it.

The hand Stiles has on his jaw turns surer while the other one comes up to Derek’s shoulder. Derek crosses another thing from his list-of-things-he’s-dreamt-of-doing and buries one of his hands into Stiles’ hair and yes - it’s just as soft as he’s imagined. The other hand rests on Stiles’ thigh for balance.

“ Back to what I said earlier ,” Stiles says when they pull away for air. “ Learning about the supernatural side of the world has brought a lot of danger and bad things in my life. But it has also brought you into my life, and I’m really grateful for that. I wouldn’t change anything. If I were to be given a time machine, I wouldn’t go back. Or maybe I would, just a little, so I could do this sooner and we could spend more time kissing because holy hell if I’d known how you reply I would have spoken so much earlier .”

Derek rolls his eyes and takes Stiles by the chin to drag him to another kiss which effectively shuts him up.

“Is this going to be a new thing?” Stiles asks when he pulls back. “You shutting me up with your kisses?”

Derek doesn’t reply with words, but he does kiss Stiles again and that is a reply in itself.

“Okay no talking,” Stiles says when Derek lets his lips go.

“You are talking,” Derek points out as he gets closer again, unable to get enough of kissing Stiles now that he can finally do it.

“Shutting up now,” Stiles says, the words brushing against Derek’s lips before they are kissing again.

This time Stiles really does stay quiet. They get lost in each other, their crazy world and research forgotten around them.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterek fanfiction #my writing #i'm slowly but surely posting these in here too

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comfortablesilencebk · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER 01

Flying itself never bothered Y/N, it was always a freeing feeling to see the world beneath one's feet and feel the air on her body, this however is different from the other times Keigo took her for a flight. They are about 50 feet in the air, beneath them the city and streets. It is a pretty nice view and Y/N would enjoy it, if she wasn’t hanging in the air and trying not to let go of her bag or Keigo, while he tries to break his speed record. It’s the first time since months, maybe even years, that he flys her somewhere. Now that he’s a famous pro hero, people would recognize them and he never intended to put Y/N under the blinding lights of the press. At least that’s what he says. Y/N thinks she just became too heavy and tall for him, too fly her around like he used to when she was a child. She doesn’t mind it particularly because it only shows that she’s getting stronger but some nights she misses their little trips around the city.

„Hawks! Hawks, I’m gonna fall! Slow down!“ she yells, panicking and trying not to glimpse his grip as he takes a sharp turn right, almost crushing her into a building. The man above her only laughs and starts flying downwards for a landing. They land on an empty parking lot near U.A High and Y/N tries not to fall, while catching a breath. Maybe she doesn’t miss flying that much, she thinks to herself and watches him stretch his arms before turning her head back to the ground. The more she trains her quirk the safer she feels walking on the earth, knowing there is always something beneath her feet.

„You used to like flying,“ he says in an amused tone and even though she can’t see his face, she can hear his smile. Keigo is still smiling and he doesn’t even try to hide it. Just because he doesn’t like her plans for the future, doesn’t mean he isn’t proud of her and what she has accomplished. His chest could explode by the thought of his little Dove growing up and taking matter into her own hands. The man has to hold himself back not to pull her into a big hug.

„Not like this,“ she replies and takes the bag he's holding for her. The girl straightens her uniform, loosening the tie, so she could breathe freely and brushing her brown curls. “How do I look?“ she asks with a worried look on her face. Now that she’s only a few streets from U.A, the anxiety starts creeping up. It’s normal to be a bit excited or even nervous, it’s a new chapter in her life after all, Keigo told her but somewhere deep inside she’s still afraid everyone could see straight through her.

„Like a wingless chicken and now say UA,“ he grins and pulls out his phone to take a picture. His attempt to light up her mood fails but Y/N doesn’t have the heart to show it.“You should probably go. You don’t wanna be late on your first day, eh?“

„Right,“ she says but doesn’t move a bit. Y/N is still nervous and even a little afraid. What if no one will like her? What if the teachers recognize her? U.A is the best school in Japan, Y/N could fail and - no! Failure is something she doesn’t even dare to think about. She’s powerful enough to beat them all, even Todoroki and Yaoyozoru or whoever thinks they’re better. Y/N has formed herself into something powerful with tears and bones and she’d rather do it all over again than to look back.

„Dove, everything will be fine. You’ll do great.“ After the years they have spent together, Keigo can see past her mask whenever she’s nervous or uncomfortable and even how to calm her down. He lets one of his feathers fly in front of her nose, which let’s her crack a smile.“Let’s go.“

Keigo escorts her until they’re only a couple of streets away from the facilities. That’s where their ways part and Y/N walks alone towards the gates. Her mind is trying to find something she can think about other than all the things that could go wrong and so she just stares at the cherry blossoms. They have been her favorite thing about this world she entered years ago.

Being late has its advantages, Y/N notes and tries to calm herself down. There are barely any people in the hallways and she doesn’t have to choose a seat because there is only one left anyway. Just stay positive and calm, she reminds herself. Right behind a blond boy, who seems in a bad mood is the last free table. Y/N takes a seat and looks around the classroom. Only one door but the windows can be opened and the classroom is located on the second floor. 20 students, 7 girls and 13 boys. She recognizes Todoroki, who’s sitting in the back and Iida, sitting in the front. The pink girl and the yellow haired boy seem friendly and Y/N decides to talk to them later. If she survived this far she can surely make some friends, right? It was Keigo who taught her how to be charming and friendly, after all.

„Hey, I’m Sero Hanta,“ says the boy next to her, as he notices her looks, and offers her his hand, which she accepts with a smile. The boy has a bright smile on his lips and pitch black hair. His elbows look somehow weird but Y/N can’t see what they are.

„Takami Y/N, nice to meet you.“

It turns out that Sero is actually pretty nice and funny, she notes. He likes old action movies and sweets. Listens to music she doesn’t really know and taps with his foot. His open type and bright smile reminds her of Keigo. They keep talking until the bell rings and someone rolls in the classroom. A man with long black hair and a weirdly long scarf. Y/N doesn’t know him but Sero recognized him immediately. The underground hero Eraserhead or rather Aizawa Shouta.

„You know, Aizaw Sensei can erase someone’s quirk with his eyes! So cool right! What is actually your quirk? I can shoot tape from my elbows, how about you!“ Sero also talks a lot, Y/N realizes as the class gathers outside after changing into their gym clothes and he immediately ran towards her to keep chatting. The girl is a bit surprised that he came back to her, to talk and how friendly everyone seems. Y/N was the last girl to come out of the cabins, still a little anxious that someone might see her change, but as she finally came out she found Momo waiting for her so she wouldn’t be alone.

,,I can control bones that are in the ground and recreate my own,“ Y/N explains and smiles nervously. Her quirk might sound creepy to some and isn’t quite flashy. Pulling out bones of dead people or animals is not really a quirk of a hero, little girls look up to. It’s rather a quirk to cause harm but Y/N swallows the thoughts and memories.

„Does that mean you can create an army of skeletons?“ asks the blond boy from earlier and looks at her with big eyes. He’s standing right next to Sero and another boy with spiky red hair. They don’t seem disgusted by her, letting her relax a bit until the little voice she choked so many times to death murmurs a „not yet“ into her ear.

„You can talk about your quirks later.”

They all turn around and fall silent as Aiwawa Sensei appears behind them, his look as tired and bored as always. His voice is monotone but it somehow calms Y/N down and it’s not exhausting to listen, unlike many other people she met in life.

Y/N likes their first exercise. She worked hard on her abilities and now she can show off her quirk in a good way. Show them that she’s more than the things that they used to say. More than a murderer they want her to be.

„How far can you throw a ball?“ Sero asks as they watch the angry blond boy, whose name apparently Bakugou is, throw one of the baseballs over 705 meters. He doesn’t seem proud or happy about his score, only annoyed as if the whole exercise is just a waste of his time. This alone wouldn’t bother Y/N but it’s the way he looks at her when she answers.“Maybe 500 meters?“ He gives her a look that almost screams she’s too weak to even be in this class. Like she’s the one wasting everyone’s time. It makes her blood boil in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. She won’t justify to an arrogant boy why she’s here. He's no one, yet she has to say something.

„Congratulations, you can throw a ball. Go play fetch with a dog.“ she murmurs to him and watches how his face turns from scorn into angry, giving her satisfaction.

„At least I can use my quirk useful. What do you want to do with your bones? Use them as chopsticks?“

Y/N has to admit, it’s not the best idea to start a fight on their first day but something about him makes her fingers twitch. She also doesn’t realize that he listend to them earlier, all she wants, in that moment, is to wipe away this stupid look on his face. The stupid boy seems to see through every facade she put up and hit her right where it hurts. First he thinks she’s taking up space and now she’s useless! “Breaking the bones in your body seems useful to me.“ Y/N regrets the words as soon as they fall off her tongue. This is exactly what she didn’t want, them to think she’s a thread.

„Takami! Bakugou!“

Both of them step away from each other and turn to Aizawa, who’s standing right behind them. The look on his face is terrifying and covers even the fact that most of the other students were watching them too.“I really don’t care if you hate each other but if you disturb my class one more time, I’ll expel you immediately.“ He doesn’t even bother to wait for their apology, not that Bakugou wanted to apologize anyway, and starts walking towards some other sports equipment.

„Can you really do it? Break someone's bones?“ Sero is still next to her, whispering while the man explains their next exercise. He doesn’t seem scared but rather surprised and Y/N wonders if he’s just hiding his fear.

,,No,“ Y/N answers with a low voice and notices how the boy next to her loses tension. She can only hope, her classmates won’t be afraid she might be a threat.

Y/N and Bakugou don’t talk for the rest of the day but that doesn’t stop them from comparing in every way possible. Bakugou would look provocative at her, whenever he scores higher than her and Y/N can’t hide her wicked smile whenever she gets a better score than him. He doesn’t even want to be better than the rest of the class, only better than her.

The classes ended quicker than Y/N thought and even though Aizawa Sensei told them he'd expel the student with the least points, no one was sent home.

By the time she steps out of the facility and checks her messages, Hawks and Kanai have already spammed her phone.

> From: Keigo

> 09:57

> Who‘s your new teacher? Are they nice?“

>From: Keigo

>11:49

> Found any friends? Just be yourself :)

>From: Keigo

>13:21

> Please, eat enough! And drink water!

>From: Kanai-San

> 13:27

> I hope you have a great first day! Don’t overthink too much and have fun. PS. Don’t overdo yourself and listen to your body

>From: Keigo

> 13:47

> Kanai is coming over tonight and wants to cook. Told him you want fried chicken :)

It takes Y/N about 2 hours to get home and thanks to Sero the train ride is just half as boring and long. He keeps telling her about the comics and mangas he reads and Y/N has to promise him to pick up at least one. By the time she enters the apartment, the whole area smells delicious and she can hear Keigo and Kanai talking. They end their bickering as she enters the kitchen to find the two men cooking. Well Kanai is cooking, while Keigo just sits at the breakfast bar and plays with one of his feathers.

„There she is! The next pro hero in its glory!“ The man with the red wings jumps off the barstool and walks towards her, to give her a welcoming hug. Y/N can feel her muscles relax as she puts her arms around him and inhales the cologne they gifted him last Christmas.

„Tell us everything! Who’s your teacher? Did you find any friends? How was-“ Keigo is being interrupted by Kanai, who hits him with a wooden spoon on the hand.

„Let the girl breathe, you chicken!“

Y/N takes the opportunity and sneaks into her room, to catch a breath. Her hand clungs around the door handle, as she closed the door and let the room fall silent. She catches herself staring at the mirror on the other side of the room. Her cheeks are glowing red from the cold air and her brown eyes have a happy shine in them. She looks strong, healthy and even happy. There is no visible evidence of the past. Y/N can no longer hold back a smile as the realization hits her. She’s a U.A student! A real student who goes to classes and eats lunch with their friends! She is becoming a hero, has potential friends, a home and even people she can call family. Her smile quickly turns into silly giggling. She has never been this happy.

index • next chapter

———————

I hope you like the first chapter and tell me your feedback! :) ❤️ ~ mars

#comfortablesilcence #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #mha fanfiction #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakusquad #sero hanta #mha hawks

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simonalkenmayeris-still-dead · 4 years ago

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wow this one’s long

I don't usually "liveblog" my reactions to Simon's posts, I usually read them all the way through and then respond, but he's made yet another post about how dumb I am, so let's see how I'm gonna react in real time.

First up, it's a problem that I've already decided he's human. Off to a bad start already. I didn't decide you're human, Simon, I decided you were a character. It's pretty obvious you're a character, there's a whole book about your monsterous deeds.

See what I said about him getting in and out of character mixed up?

Apparently the correct thing to do when I decided this was to offer to fill out a survey. You know, those surveys he keeps talking about? The ones he hasn't written yet? It makes total sense I would offer to fill out something that doesn't exist. Right.

Oh, then we get to the good parts. The parts where Si thinks he invented roleplaying. For anyone who doesn't know, I've been a roleplayer for around 20 years. This is gonna be interesting.

So yeah, of course there's a person writing the blog, that's YOU Si. But you're writing it as the character of Simon Alkenmayer. That's the monster. They are different people. What happens on the blog should be in character.

Remember that instead of recognising that I've said he's a fictional character, he's saying I think he's a human and not a monster. That's important because then he tries to consolidate the parts of his persona. It's beside the point that if you shoot an author because of their pen-name then the author is still dead, because I'm not talking about authors.

You can't harm an author by harming their character, but Simon is trying to conflate the two, and if you were just reading this casually, it would be easy to agree with him.

Then we get to this part where I'm not entirely sure what Simon's talking about, but I suspect he's talking about his blog. And I suspect he's talking about what I just mentioned before, that he doesn't distinguish between in and out of character.

One of the fun parts of interacting with roleplay blogs run by actual roleplayers is that they don't get offended by asks because they know it's all in good fun. Si seems to think everything sent to his blog is being sent to him, the author, rather than Simon, the character.

And then we get a paragraph on harm and accountability. I'm not really following the logic that I can't hold him to account if I can't harm him. I do find it disturbing, but not surprising, that he equates those things. Like, we know Simon thinks it's much worse to be called out on discrimination than it is to actaully discriminate against people.

But even then, I can't harm a character that doesn't exist, but I can absolutely hold the writer to account, especially if they're running an online blog. Creators are held to account all the time.

Oh then we have this "unique instance". Because we know Si hates roleplayers, so obviously, he's the only person who's ever done this before. Which is actually really bad for him, because if he had gone and looked, he would know there are lots of rules and etiquette around roleplaying, and they exist for reasons, including preventing you from having a public meltdown.

So in this unique instance, he's basically saying he's projecting onto the character. I mean obviously he's saying this to back up his "I am monster" story, but I've no doubt he's also just doing that, which aside from being a real mistake in RP, why would you do it? If I were in that position, I'd want the character to be authentic to the books, and I wouldn't want my personality to get mixed in.

Simon's really humble here. His action are well thought out, disciplined and in the best interests of others. He thinks I've called his readers idiots. I don't think I have. I'm always very careful not to slight people who follow Simon, because I know first hand how easy it is to get caught up in that sort of thing.

Oh, the best line in this is that he says when people defend him, they're not defending the fiction, as if I haven't had people come to my blog insisting that Simon has to be a monster because nothing else makes sense to them.

Sorry mate, sometimes people are just defending their source of entertainment.

I'm not comandeering a pen-name. Is that really what this is all about? And I wouldn't characterise my "work" such as it is as cruel and mean-spirited, so much as pointing out Simon's bad behaviour.

Like there's a really simple fix for that and it's just to delete some posts, edit the books where appropriate, and make a public apology for the crappy things he's done.

I love that he keeps saying he can't stop me as though he hasn't chosen not to take action. It's a particularly manipulative little phrase for all his readers to keep reading. "Oh, poor Simon, he can't do anything about it." Simon can do something about it, and he chooses not to.

Oh, so then we get to the real accusations. They are yikes. There's some stuff about me allegedly inciting violence? But apparently I've been saying the fire was a hoax. I have NEVER said that. I don't know why Si is so keen to link that fire with me.

It's just an extremely long jump to that conclusion. If something got set on fire out the front of my house, I would probably jump to the conclusion that it was a bunch of teenagers, or drunk people. I would not immediately go "that person on the internet MUST have done it".

And when am I supposed to have said it was deserved? Kristina replied to one of my posts and I tried to console her. I didn't have to tell her what country I live in, but I did, so that she might feel safer. But apparently I think she deserved it? And he says I have no evidence. Where's his?

The other thing I love about Si is how he keeps saying how polite he was to me, but neglects to mention it was after he tried to threaten me. And like, his friends will come over here and be all "that was just a question", as if they don't know what a veiled threat is. It's so cute.

And it turns out, we get to the end and this rant was STILL about me taking the name off the blog? WOW.

#follow up #not THE POST #why is he doing this

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mininacl · 4 years ago

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surely you must know (how much i love you so)

my fic for @batfam-big-bang

summary: Timothy Drake, adopted son of billionaire by day, superhero Red Robin by night. He's used to keeping secrets, but one secret he's having trouble keeping is his feelings for his best friend.

word count: 7.1K

Tim sits at his desk, staring blankly at the screen. He watches as the text cursor blinks. The essay is due tomorrow, but he hasn’t started, hell, he hasn’t even written his name on the document. Tim’s mind is distracted by all the unsolved GCPD cases. He has to solve them and let the families have the peace of knowing the criminals have been caught. But having to balance his day-life and his night-life is taking a toll on him. He already feels the effects of staying up for 36 hours without any sort of sleep. He can’t pay attention, he can’t eat, his motivation is lagging, and he is having a hard time speaking. Those are normal side effects, and he ignores the little voice in the back of his head saying yeah, of depression. He stays up so much that it doesn’t really affect him as much as it used to. Tim knows how to focus with no sleep, but that was for cases and not for essays.

Tim stares at the screen a few seconds more before closing his laptop. He rubs his eyes, stands up from his desk and stretches, feeling his back pop and he sighs in relief. He grabs his cup that says “fr e sh voca do”. Conner got it for Tim’s birthday last year. It has been his go-to coffee cup since. He walks downstairs to the kitchen, wanting to fill up his cup again and maybe get something to eat. Cassandra is sitting at the table, eating some strawberries while she looks outside. She looks lost in her thoughts, but she still hears Tim come into the kitchen. She turns to him and gives him a small smile. Tim smiles and waves back.

“So, Cass, how are you doing?” Tim asks Cass, sitting down across from her.

“ I’m doing good, ” Cass signs. Tim reaches over and takes one of the strawberries.

Plopping it into his mouth, Tim says “You sure? No one is ever ‘good’ in this family.”

“ I am doing good. Nothing else to it. How are you doing? Have you slept yet? ”

“Naw, I haven’t slept yet. I’m doing as good as I can with the lack of sleep.”

“ You need to sleep. ”

Tim looks at Cass. Cass is picking at the leaves on the strawberries. She never picks at her food.The only time she does pick at her food, or really anything in general, is when she is upset or has something on her mind.

“I will sleep when you tell me what’s going on”

Cass pauses. She stops eating the strawberries and looks up at Tim, she looks surprised that he knew something was up. Tim pulls the container of strawberries closer to him and stares at Cass, waiting for her to spill. A few moments pass before Cass reaches over to grab the strawberries again. She looks like she’s hesitating to tell him, not wanting to talk about something. They sit in silence for a while, the only noises that can be heard are the ticking of a clock and the sound of Tim chewing on strawberries. Cass’s eyes drift to the window that overlooks the garden. Her eyes stay focused on one rose for a while before she looks back at Tim.

“ I have been thinking a lot recently. ” Cass signs.

“What have you been thinking about?” Tim asks Cass. He stops eating, wanting to show Cass that his full attention is on her.

“ I’ve realized something...about me, ” Cass pauses, she's shaking a lot. Tim reaches over to place his hand on her arm, trying to calm her down. They sit in silence for a bit. Cass slowly starts to calm down but Tim can tell she is still nervous.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell.” Tim says, breaking the silence that surrounded them. “I’m not going to force you or bring it up, I’m just here for some food” He adds a little laugh at the end, hoping that it makes Cass comfortable. Cass smiles at him a little before she grabs another strawberry, raises her arms.

“ No, I need to. I want to, ” Cass takes a deep breath, before signing again. “ I am asexual. ”

Tim tries not to look a little surprised, but it’s hard not to. He notices that Cass looks worried. Worried isn’t the right word. Cass looks scared. Tim smiles at Cass, before taking a sip of his coffee.

“I have something to admit too.” Cass looks at Tim, intrigued.

“I am pansexual. I could love anyone.” Tim smiles and laughs a bit. This is the first time he has admitted outloud that he is pansexual. Cass smiles back at Tim, happy that she wasn’t the only one who is in the LGBTQ+ community. They both look relieved at the confession. Tim thought he was alone, and perhaps Cass thought that no one would accept her for being asexual. But it isn’t like that. Tim still loves his sister and he's happy that she trusts him enough with this information.

“Thank you, Tim.” Cass smiles. She moves to get up, wanting to hug Tim and to put the strawberries away.

Tim follows suit, telling Cass as he got up, “I need to go and work on the cursed boy.”

Tim is grabbing his coffee from the table, when Cass stops him. How she got over to Tim so quickly is a mystery but it's not surprising. She places the strawberries down, and moves Tim’s coffee away from him, both to avoid a spill and to keep Tim from trying to grab it. Cass wraps her arms around Tim, he hugs her back, squeezing her a little. When Tim moves to get out of the hug, Cass doesn’t move. As much as Tim wants to question her, he doesn’t. Cass finally releases her grip on him, picks up the strawberries and places them in the fridge, before walking away.

Tim goes back upstairs and sits down again at his desk, and starts to write. The talk with Cass has sparked some inspiration. Tim writes and writes all day. By the time he is done, the sun has set. He hasn’t eaten since his talk with Cass, and he wants to eat, but he has a craving for fast food. He grabs his phone and shoots Conner a text, asking to meet up at BatBurger. Instantly, Conner says he will be there in a few minutes, and Tim rushes to get ready. His clothes are wrinkled and his hair is a mess but it doesn’t matter. After a few days of no sleep, he doesn’t care about a lot. Tim grabs his phone and keys, and heads downstairs. He passes by Alfred, tells the butler that he is having dinner with Conner. He's too busy rushing out that he doesn’t hear Alfred's reply. Alfred watches the boy run out of the house, shaking his head.

Tim races down the streets on his motorcycle, hoping to get to BatBurger before Conner. He narrowly misses being hit by a truck, and the truck driver honks but Tim just ignores it and continues on his way. It takes a few minutes, but he pulls into the BatBurger parking lot. Tim parks and looks around, not seeing Conner anywhere. With a big smile, internally cheering that he arrived first, Tim walks into BatBurger, scanning the place in case of threats. His smile drops when he notices Conner sitting in a booth by the window.

“How is it that I live only 20 minutes away, and you live in a different city, yet you always manage to beat me here?” Tim asks Conner as he walks up to the booth.

“Because I have some time management skills. Plus, I can fly.” Conner tells Tim, smiling smugly.

“You know what? I don’t need the sass Kon-El.” Tim was going to sit down, but instead he turns and walks up to the counter and waits in line. Conner shakes his head as Tim walks away. Tim orders some food for the both of them, he knows what Conner likes by now. He turns back to Conner, and they start to make faces at each other from across the restaurant. Conner is laughing softly at the booth, but Tim can’t laugh since he doesn’t want to seem crazy. The order arrives and Tim grabs it and walks back to the booth.

“Here you go, Kon. You owe me.” Tim says as he places the food down and sits across from Conner.

“You were the one who asked me to meet you here…but fine.” Conner steals one of Tim’s fries, even though Tim made sure to get him his own fries. Tim tries to slap Conner’s hand away but is a little too slow.

Tim feels at ease with Conner, it is so easy to talk to him. He feels safer around Conner. In some moments he freezes, words dying from his mouth when Conner smiles at him. Tim is in love, but he is too scared to say it out loud. He is scared that he would break Conner’s trust and he would lose him. They are best friends and admitting something that big could ruin the friendship. But Tim wants to kiss Conner, and oh so badly he wants to admit that he loves him. Tim knows he doesn’t have to hide his heart, but it is scary. He shouldn’t be afraid of the words he wants to say. This game of love should be played out loud, but Tim is scared, he knows how people like to talk. He is the adopted son of a billionaire, the CEO of Wayne Enterprise, and a hero. He has faced so much, from rumors to fake scandals, this shouldn’t bother him. Yet it does. It shakes him to the core.

“-im. Timothy. Timmy. Tim. You in there?” Conner asks as he pokes Tim on the head. Tim shakes his head, not realizing he got lost in his thoughts and worries.

“Yeah, I’m here. You didn’t have to poke me.” Tim takes a sip of his drink. Surprisingly it isn’t coffee but water. He needs to drink something else besides coffee for now. Or at least for this meal, anyway.

“I called your name several times and you still didn’t answer me. So I had to poke you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

They go back and forth for a while before Tim finally admits that Conner had to poke him. Sighing in defeat, Tim munches on fries. Conner just smiles at Tim. They finish eating and sit in silence. Tim wants to tell Conner in that moment but he can’t. He told Cass earlier and that was enough secret telling for him today. Tim pulls out his phone, checking the time. He pretends he has to leave, in reality, he was getting more nervous around Conner. He was so close to telling Conner he loves him.

“Lets hang out more, Tim. It's nice to get away from our crazy lives.”

Tim gets up as Conner finishes talking, putting their trash onto the tray. Conner stands up and puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder, turning Tim to face him. Conner pulls Tim in for a quick hug before grabbing the tray and walking away from Tim. Conner turns once more at the door, and gives Tim a smile before exiting Bat Burger and flying away. Tim stands there. His heart is beating fast, and he is blushing a little. He shakes his head before exiting BatBurger and heading to his motorcycle. He drives back home, a smile on his face.

Tim gets home and goes to his room without saying anything to anyone. Even though it hasn’t been a busy day, he still feels exhausted. From having to do the essay, to coming out to Cass, and dinner with Conner, he needs to relax for a bit before having to leave for patrol. He puts on some music, and lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan, watching it go around and around. Kiss the Boy by Keiynan Lonsdale plays from the small speaker Tim has. He knows the song, hell he plays it on repeat. It hits home for him. Not knowing what to do after all that happened today, Tim gets up and goes to work on some of the case files he has in his room. The song keeps playing as he works.

I might not say the one thing on my mind cause it’s too tough

But we lose our chance when we don’t try

On second thought yeah I think I might

The lyrics make Tim think he should tell Conner. If I don't tell him, I run the risk of losing Conner to someone else, but if I tell him I run the risk of losing Conner if he doesn’t love me back, Tim thinks. He doesn’t know what to do, all the different possible outcomes form in his head. Tim shakes his head, wanting to focus on the unsolved cases rather than his feelings for Conner.

Don’t want to hide

Most of my life I’ve been terrified

Spending my days always questioning

Am I wrong to love a man

I realize

Ain’t gotta hide this heart of mine

I’m gonna fight just to let you know

To open your light and let it glow

Tim pauses. He rewinds the music and listens to the lyrics again. He feels as if they were meant for him. He has never realised that deep down he questions if it is wrong to love Conner. The unspoken fear that has made its home in his heart long before he even knew he loved Conner, yet in his heart he also knows that it doesn’t matter if people say it's wrong. All that matters is that he wouldn’t have to hide anymore. The fears he has have stopped him, but after hearing that it isn’t just him that feels like that a burst of courage came to Tim. Tim grabs his phone and texts Conner before he can stop himself.

“I love you.” “And I don’t mean as friends”

The burst of courage that had come, was now gone. Tim looks at the texts in panic. He throws his phone onto his bed and jumps up. Pacing around, he doesn’t hear the chime of a text alert from his phone. His breathing starts to get heavier, and tears form in his eyes as he paces, worrying over how Conner will react. After wearing the carpet thin, Tim finally picks up his phone again, heart pounding. He sits down and prepares himself for rejection. Tim unlocks his phone and checks the text conversation between him and Conner.

“I love you too” “And I definitely dont mean as friends lmao”

Tim stares at the texts in shock before letting out a small laugh of relief and joy. He wipes the tears from his eyes and grabs the water bottle he keeps by his bed. After chugging the water and throwing it into the trash bin, Tim gets up and shakes his hands, grinning like a fool. He has to get his head into the game. Patrol was starting soon, and if he didn’t make it to the cave in time Bruce would get worried. Tim looks at his texts again, smiling at the screen, before locking his phone and placing it under his pillow. He can’t risk having siblings going through his phone. Tim leaves his room, heading to the cave.

Tim arrives at the Batcave just in time. Bruce looks over at Tim and raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Jason is too busy cleaning his guns to notice that Tim arrived, Dick is spinning in the chair that sits in front of the computer, and Damian, just like Jason, is cleaning his weapons. Stephanie, Duke and Cass are nowhere to be seen. Bruce gives a quick rundown on where he and the others are going to be patrolling. Dick gets the docks to watch for Penguin’s gun trading, Jason and Tim get from Amusement Mile to Sprang River to watch for any rogues, Damian and Bruce get from Sprang River to Robinson Park, and Stephanie, Duke, and Cass are covering the rest of Gotham. Everyone gets suited up, chatting a little. Cass is putting gadgets into her suit as Tim walks over to her. She smiles softly at Tim. Tim grabs one of the gadgets out to put in his utility belt, smiling at Cass as he does so. Cass reaches up to pat his head, and walks away, heading in the direction of Steph.

“Why are you so smiley?” Jason asks Tim as he puts on his holsters.

“I had a good day. That’s all,” Tim grins a little at Jason before placing his mask on and hoping on his Red Robin motorcycle and driving away. It's time to fight criminals.

Tim still hasn't figured out when he should write his essays. The rain hits against the window as the noise of cars passes by. The noise provides background noise for Tim. It is a soft buzz of noise since his dorm is on the third floor. His room is only illuminated by the glow of a desk lamp and the light of a computer screen. It's 3AM and Tim is just now eating dinner. A microwave dinner at that, but it is still dinner, Alfred would be disappointed in him but with living in dorms, this was all he had at the moment. This essay is easier since it deals with his major — computer science. All Tim has to do is explain the different parts of a piece of computer software. The problem is between college life, a day job, a night job, patrol, and secret dates with Kon, Tim doesn’t have the time to do it all. He could technically get rid of his two jobs but that means relying on Bruce’s trust fund and as much as he wants to use the money, he also wants to be normal for once. Or really, as normal as he can be.

“FUCK!” Tim yells before looking around his dorm. He is alone but the walls are thin. After not hearing anyone or any yelling, Tim gets up to make coffee. How the hell did I forget coffee? It was shocking. He runs his fingers through his hair as the coffee maker does its thing and makes his coffee. As Tim grabs his black coffee, he quotes John Mulaney under his breath, “One black coffee”.

He walks back to his desk and moves the graph paper he has around to make room for the coffee. He pulls out his phone to text Kon but pauses, then puts down his phone. He has to focus, essay first, then Kon. Tim takes a sip of his coffee before cracking his fingers and getting to work.

4AM arrives quicker than Tim expects. He has just finished his essay and has to sleep at least little before classes start. He regrets having to take morning class, but it was the only option that works with his schedule. 9AM-12PM he is in classes, 1PM-4PM he is at FRATZ BEANS café — a fraternity café at the college, yeah a café just for the fraternity people — as a barista, 7PM-12AM he is at a local diner — bless the owners, they gave him a part-time job — working as a waiter, and then depending on the day, he either goes out on patrol until crime slows, on a date with Kon or working on school.

Today, it is a date with Kon. They are going to meet up at 1AM near the small park on campus. It isn’t really a park, just a patch of grass, flowers, and trees. Tim’s excited to see Kon tonight. The last date was at an arcade and a 24/7 hour diner. Tonight's date is up to Tim. He hasn’t figured out a back-up plan just in case things go south - which knowing Gotham, that could happen where they will be going - or how to upstage Kon. He has ideas but nothing can work within his schedule, besides one idea. Gotham has a drive-in movie playing at 2AM, it's late for a movie but early for Gotham. Tim shakes his head, he has to sleep before class.

All Star by Smash Mouth plays as the clock hits 8AM. Tim groans as he stretches in bed, he only has an hour to shower, eat, and head to class. Tim sits up and looks around his room for a moment before getting up and grabbing clothes. Tim may have a dorm to himself but it doesn’t have a bathroom in it, he has to go to one of the shared bathrooms on the floor. Tim grabs his bathroom bag before slipping on his flip-flops and heading to the showers. The showers luckily aren’t that busy in the morning so Tim is able to slip in and out in under 20 minutes. After showering, brushing his teeth, and changing clothes, Tim heads back to his dorm to pack up his backpack for his classes. He has statistics, programming, music theory — why he chose that class, no one knows — advanced coding, and business. Some of those he has to do because Bruce made him. Why, he still has no idea.

Tim fixes his denim jacket, makes his hoodie strings even lengths, and puts on his sneakers. He sits on his bed for a few seconds, messing with the holes in his jeans. Unplugging his phone from the charger and grabbing his backpack, Tim checks the time and sees that he has enough time to go to the small coffee shop in the campus to grab a bagel and coffee.

One of the workers, Alec, greets Tim as he walks into the Student Center. The center has some classes but it’s mostly small food shops and restaurants. Tim nods to Alec and walks to the coffee shop, the one working barista smiles at Tim and asks what he would like. Tim gives them his usual order, espresso Americano and a lightly toasted bagel with cream cheese. Tim slides over his student card and the barista scans the card before handing it back, he goes to the pickup counter and checks his phone but it doesn’t take long for him to get his order. After thanking the worker, he heads to class. During class, Tim can’t stop checking the time, wishing that 1AM would come faster.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully fast. Or as fast as it can given that today is busier than normal. Tim’s exhausted by the time he goes to his diner job but it’s only a few more hours before he gets to see Kon, so he powers through the exhaustion. When he turns to look at the clock, he notices it’s 12:30AM, only a couple more hours until he sees Kon. They are going to take one of Bruce’s trucks — or really his only truck — to a drive-in movie. Dick had driven the truck down to the college earlier in the day. It was no surprise that Dick knew Tim’s schedule, and Tim managed to grab the keys from Dick when he conveniently passed by on his way to another class. Tim has already packed a bag for the drive-in and snacks during his free time he had yesterday.

Finishing his shift at the diner, Tim goes back to his dorm, waiting for Kon to come flying in. Tim can’t contain his excitement to see Kon. He starts pacing back and forth, checking the time every second. When Kon finally knocks on the dorm door, Tim runs to the door and yanks it open. He pulls Kon into a hug and gives him a kiss. Kon kisses Tim back and moves his arms to hold Tim closer, kissing him a little harder. Tim pulls away before their kissing can get more passionate.

Out of breath, Tim says “Are you ready for the movie?” He’s still in Kon’s arms.

“Yeah. Are you able to get us there with no accidents?”

Tim moves out of Kon’s arms to grab the bag of snacks and drinks, and two blankets. “Hey! I don’t get into accidents! That’s Dick!” Tim laughs at the memory of Dick’s last accident. It was in the Batmobile and since then Dick has been banned from the vehicle.

“Sure, it’s just Dick,” Kon jokingly says.

Tim grabs a random object — which turns out to be an empty water bottle — and throws it at Kon. Kon catches it, only to throw it back at Tim, who, not expecting it to come back like a boomerang, yells in surprise when he gets hit with the water bottle. Tim stares at Kon in disbelief before walking out of the dorm, leaving Kon in his dust. Kon just laughs at Tim and follows after. Tim throws the bag and blankets into the backseats of the truck and moves to hop in the driver’s seat.

Grabbing Tim’s arm, Kon tells him, “You shouldn’t drive. I know how to drive a truck, you don’t.”

Tim said nothing as Kon gets into the driver seat. Kon starts the truck as Tim goes to the passenger seat. They sit in the truck for a while, before Kon starts to drive off towards the drive-in. Tim connects to the bluetooth system that the truck has. My Own Hero by Andy Grammer plays through the speakers. Kon drums his fingers to the beat of the song on the steering wheel, and Tim looks out the window, watching as Gotham passes by. It was luck that no one was out tonight. It’s always luck when they go on a date and not a lot of people are out. They want to keep the relationship a secret for as long as they can. It’s hard to keep, but Tim is scared of what his family — minus Cass — would think. He’s scared of how that would affect him in the public’s eye. Tim isn’t really known for caring about publicity, but this time it's different. This time it affects Kon as well, he would be pushed into the spotlight. Tim can’t stop thinking as he leans his head on the window, sighing softly.

“Timmy, you okay?” Kon looks over at Tim for a second before focusing back on the road.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tim, with his head still on the window, turns to Kon and smiles.

Kon can tell something is bothering Tim but he didn’t want to push. His family does that enough and Kon doesn’t want to add to it. After a few minutes, they pull up to the drive-in. Tim sits up straight and digs into the bag for his wallet. He hands Kon the money for the drive-in tickets. They get their tickets and go to find a parking spot, the drive-in is mostly empty, save for a few other couples and families. Kon parks the truck directly in the middle and reaches behind them to grab the bag and blankets before Tim can react. Tim just looks at Kon while smiling. They get out and Tim opens the tailgate, hopping onto the truck bed. Kon places the bag down before throwing one side of a blanket to Tim. They fix the truck bed to their liking before Kon hops into the truck bed with the bag. Tim grabs the bag and pulls out a drink, Kon doesn’t even have to ask to know its coffee. Sometimes he wonders if Tim loves coffee more than him. Tim digs in the bag and pulls out a couple of glow sticks.

“Glow sticks? Really?”

“Yes really. Are you judging me?” Tim asks as he opens the package and breaks some glow sticks. Kon looks at Tim in awe at how beautiful Tim was. The glow of the glow sticks provides an angelic glow under Tim. It's dark out with only a few lights out and shining. The nearest one is a few meters down in the next car. The movie hasn’t started yet, so the only light lightning up the area around the two are the glow sticks.

Tim looks over at Kon while he throws the glow sticks around the truck bed. “You okay?”

Kon snaps out of it. “Yeah yeah, my bad. Here let me help you.”

Kon grabs another package of glow sticks and opens it before snapping them. Before Kon can throw them around the truck bed, Tim grabs them and the connecters. Tim makes a bracelet out of two glow sticks and places it on Kon’s lap. Kon picks it up gently and looks at it. Tim, not being able to stop himself, grabs Kon’s hand and the glow stick. Tim slips the glow stick onto Kon’s hand, or more accurately, his arm. He picks up Kon’s hand and kisses the back of his hand instinctively. Tim not so gracefully drops Kon’s hand and takes a sip of coffee, trying to calm down the blush that appears on his face. Kon didn’t say anything but he smiles and grabs the glow sticks Tim stole before throwing them around the truck bed. The truck bed has a range of different colored glow sticks. The whole rainbow made an appearance on the truck bed. Fitting, Kon thinks.

Tim jumps as the movie screen makes a noise. It starts to countdown from 10. The two boys get settled in as the movie begins. Kon looks surprised at the movie choice.

“Megamind? Really?” Kon is unimpressed by the movie, but is impressed at the amount of couples here.

“Yes, Megamind. You got a problem with it?” Tim sasses. Kon can only shake his head.

As the movie plays, both Tim and Kon can’t help but sneak glances at each other. In that moment Tim wants to shout from the rooftops about his love for Kon. He wants to hold Kon in the streets, kiss him, do normal couple things. But his fear is holding him back. He focuses back on the movie.

The movie ends, Tim and Kon stretch out and they look at each other before laughing. Out of all the movies Tim could have picked, he picked Megamind. Only Tim would do that. Kon is the first to stop laughing. He grins as Tim keeps laughing his head off. Picking up the glow sticks and throwing them into the bag, Kon becomes so focused on cleaning that he doesn't hear Tim stop laughing. As Kon turns around, he jumps, almost punching Tim in the face. Tim is standing there, doing the Spooky Scary Skeleton dance, not that well either. Tim looks like a car dealership balloon person, just all wiggles. Kind of like a worm string.

“Mother of goose! What are you doing?” Kon holds his free hand to his chest, trying to calm his heart.

“For someone who has super hearing you definitely are deaf.” Tim says as he grabs a Swedish Fish that was lying on the blanket. He throws it in the air and catches it in his mouth. Kon glares at Tim and throws a glow stick that is lying around them. Tim, just like earlier, can’t dodge the incoming missile. A battle of throwing whatever was in reach ensured. Tim is getting hit left and right while Kon is catching all things thrown at him.

“I surrender! I surrender!” Tim has his hands in the air, not wanting to get hit again and again anymore.

“For someone trained by Batman, you definitely can’t dodge,” Kon says jokingly. Tim glares at Kon before smiling. It isn’t an evil smile but a content one. This is the first time he has had fun these past few weeks. With everything going on, having fun was something Tim could only dream of, but now he feels at peace. He’s happy. They stare at each other for a few minutes before cleaning up the truck bed. Everything, trash included and blankets excluded, went into the bag. They climb out of the truck bed and back into the truck. Kon is still the driver. Tim turns on the radio this time, and rolls down the window.

He feels as if they’re in a scene out of a movie. The wind from the movement of the truck hitting his face, the soft playing of the radio, the faint noise from the truck, the smell of Gotham air, the sight of clouds, the slight shine from the moon; it all hits Tim as Kon was driving him back to the dorm. Tim turns to rest his arms on the window and stuck his head outside. He doesn’t know it but he has silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Emotions swirl inside him, wanting to come out but not being allowed to. He wants to show the world his love, but the fear of rejection was stronger than ever. If only love was simple.

Arriving a little past 3AM, Conner pulls into the dorm parking lot, parking the truck and turning to Tim.

“I had a fun night. It is in my Top 5.” Kon tells Tim as he reaches behind to grab the bag and blankets for Tim.

“It was last minute” Tim stares at Kon, not believing he blurted that out. Kon just laughs at Tim.

“Oh, I know.”

“How do you know?”

“I know you, Tim.”

They stare at each other before leaning in for a goodnight kiss. Once breaking the kiss, they get out of the truck, waving goodbye to each other. Tim walks back to the building his dorm is located in, while Kon flies back to Metropolis. Another day, and another date down. Tim smiles as he goes to his room. Once arriving, he flops onto his bed, bouncing a little as he does so, and goes to sleep.

A few weeks pass before their next date, and this time it was Kon’s turn to choose the date. All the information Tim gets is to be ready at 1AM and wear clothes he would be okay to fly in, so Tim knows it’s at least out of Gotham. He figures it’s probably back at the Kent’s farmhouse but Tim promised not to go all detective mode. It’s a slow day, which was shocking, since on Fridays both the cafe and diner are usually busier than normal but today was slow. Tim manages to get two breaks at the diner instead of his normal one. Hell, the owners give him dinner on the house. Tim still pays for it out of pocket but it's nice to know that the owners will give him a meal on the house. Tim brings the dinner home to eat, just a cheeseburger and fries with a Coca Cola.

Tim starts to do his school work, eating as he does so. Crumbs from the burger get on his desk, and he half-heartedly wipes them away but it's not that big of a deal. Besides, he is just waiting for 1AM to arrive. Focused on school work, he doesn’t hear the knock on the window. The window slides open - how, Tim doesn’t know - and Kon steps in. In an instant, a batarang is thrown his way. Kon reaches up and grabs the batarang, stopping it inches from his face.

“How did you get in?” Tim wonders.

“I’m standing by the window, World's Greatest Detective.”

Tim says nothing before throwing another batarang. This time he aims it away from Kon, but the intent is there. Kon pulls the batarang out of the wall and hands them to Tim.

“That’s property damage.”

“They don’t care. Well, they do but a lot worse has happened in other dorms. Before you ask, don’t ask.” Tim tucks the batarangs away. He stands up, grabs his phone and a small bag before hugging Kon. Kon grabs Tim’s hand and goes back to the window. He slides out of the window, and hovers just outside. Tim slides out and sits on the window ledge before he reaches out and grabs Kon. He turns, closes the window, and Kon flies them into the night sky.

“A whole new world...” Kon sings into Tim’s ear as he screams from the sudden elevation change. Tim stops screaming as they slow down and stares at the clouds they passed. He reaches out and touches a cloud. It feels light, like nothing he had ever touched before. The cloud disappears from his hands as they continue to fly. It’s a quick trip, given that Kon is flying fast. Tim doesn’t even know they are in Metropolis until Kon touches his shoulder.

“Hey Tim, we are here”

“Huh? Oh, that was quick” Tim looks around, noticing that the Kent’s farm has more animals than normal. He doesn’t point it out but knows it has to do with Damian influencing Jon, asking for more animals. Kon gently grabs Tim’s hand and pulls him inside. The house smells of warm apple pie, with a hint of oakwood and smoke. The only noise that can be heard is from the animals.

“Where’s Clark, Lois, and Jon?” It's never this silent in the Kent house. Much like the manor, noise is a constant thing. Jon and Kon may be the only kids, or young adult in Kons’ case, but they make a lot of noise. Hell, even Clark makes a lot of noise. It’s like those Kryptonians just love noise.

Kon laughs, breaking the silence in the house. “Jon is at a sleepover with some school friends, Cl-”

Tim interrupts him, “Wait, Jon has more friends than just Damian?”

“Yeah...as I was saying Clark and Lois are out ‘working’”

“So they’re pulling a Bruce?”

“....yeah.” Kon laughs at that. He wonders if Tim has been spending some time with Jason. Jason is the only one that insults Bruce so much, and Tim saying that is definitely insulting Bruce.

“Am I wrong?” Tim holds out his hands. He looks like a meme, and Conner wishes he has his phone out to take a picture.

They make their way to the kitchen. Conner had mentioned something about a campfire earlier in the day, but Tim isn’t sure if Conner really means a fire. It's something that Tim isn’t used to. Or, well, at least in a positive way. Tim has to pause and think about what Conner means. All while he is thinking about the campfire, Conner somehow gets the ingredients for s'mores and waits at the door for Tim. He waits for Tim to get out of his own mind. It takes a while before Tim realizes Conner is waiting for him. He smiles at Conner before they walk out to the small fire pit outside.

Conner hands the ingredients to Tim before lighting the fire pit. With what, Tim doesn’t even know. The fire roars to life, the heat is intense for a second, but it soon calms down. Tim places the s’mores ingredients down, looking around for any sticks. It takes a few minutes of wandering around, before Tim finds some decent sticks. He walks back to where Conner and the fire is at, holds up the sticks with a smile. Conner shakes his head before nodding towards the fire pokers. Tim looks defeated, his arms dropping to his side. It takes only a beat of silence, saved for the noise of crickets and the fire, for Tim to throw one of the sticks in Kon’s direction. For onlookers, it may look like their relationship is full of throwing random objects at each other. That may be the truth, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. The stick throwing went on for a few minutes, before the throwing and laughs calmed down. Tim falls to the grassy ground, taking in the feel of the grass on him. Conner walks over to Tim, sitting next to Tim’s horizontal figure. They take the moment to catch their breath. The moment didn’t feel real. The area surrounding them fades. It was just Conner and him. The sound of the fire crackling brings them back to reality. Conner stands, reaching his hand out to Tim as he does so. Tim grabs his hand, getting pulled up by Conner. They walk over to the fire, grabbing a poker and finally starting to do the s’mores. Tim’s first s’more, the marshmallow went up in flames. Conner is too busy laughing his ass off to help extinguish the marshmallow. Tim throws the marshmallow to the ground, stomping on the flame. The flame, luckily, went out, but Tim knows Conner will not let him live this down. After that, the s’mores weren’t as hard or as up in flames.

By the time they were full, most of the s’mores were gone. The feeling in the air was full of nostalgia. For Tim, doing this reminds him of the days where crime-fighting wasn’t his whole life. It’s these small moments with Conner that bring him to a new plane of life, a new reality. Being able to be a kid again. Being able to feel the stickiness of marshmallows as he makes the s’mores. Feeling the comfort of a fire, the warmth, the feeling of home. These moments, these moments make Tim think that continuing is worth it all.

So lost in thought, Tim didn’t notice that Conner had moved. Tim blinks a few times, pulling himself out of his mind, and scans the area. Even if he promised no detective brain, Tim can’t stop himself from worrying, from bringing out his detective mindset. Tim gets up, still looking around for Conner, and walks to the house. He notices that the door has been left open, and rushes inside. Conner’s standing in the middle of the living room, music is playing from some speakers that the Kents have.

“What is going on?” Tim asks, looking around and making sure nothing got damaged.

“Waiting for you” Conner moves to Tim, guiding him to the middle of the living room.

“Why?”

Conner just smiles. He places one arm behind him, bowing slightly, holding out his other hand. He looks down for a second before looking up, asking “Can I have this dance?”

Tim is speechless. It takes a few seconds before Tim grabs Conners hand. Conner leads them into a swaying motion, his hands on Tim’s waist, and Tim’s around his neck. They sway to the rhythm of the music.

The song changes but the swaying doesn’t stop. Tim leans into Conner, pushing him on the back of the neck a little, bringing their foreheads to touch. Tim looks at Conner before closing his eyes. They gently sway to the music as the night continues on, blissfully content to stay in this moment forever.

#batfam big bang 2020 #timkon #tim drake #conner kent #batfam #my writings #surely you must know (how much i love you so)

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Sasquatch: Hulu Docuseries Director on Murder by Bigfoot

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Some legends are so powerful they can never die, but they might be able to kill. That is a pervading idea behind Sasquatch, Hulu’s three-part murder-mystery documentary that explores a strange story of the famous cryptid tearing three men limb from limb on a pot farm in Northern California’s Emerald Triangle.

Fittingly premiering on April 20 a.k.a. the weed holiday “420” the series is told through the eyes of investigative journalist David Holthouse. A man who has built his career chasing monstrous humans, such as Neo-Nazis and sexual predators, Holthouse heard of these Bigfoot murders back in 1993 while laying low to avoid some gangs, and passing time working on the farms in the Redwoods. Now, nearly three decades later, he revisits the region to further uncover the truth behind the story.

Directed by Joshua Rofé (Lorena), and produced by Duplass Brothers Productions (Wild, Wild Country), Sasquatch is more than a monster hunt. It does dig into Bigfoot culture, and features interviews with notable squatcher James “Bobo” Fay (Finding Bigfoot), anatomy and anthropology researcher Dr. Jeffrey Meldrum — and even Bob Gimlin, one-half of the Patterson-Gimlin film, the most famous supposed Bigfoot video ever. But the series is likewise an exploration of the illegal marijuana trade in the Emerald Triangle. A haven to where the hippies of the 1960s counterculture once escaped, parts of the three counties that make up the triangle — Humboldt, Trinity, and Mendocino — have become off-the-grid zones where interlopers might vanish.

While a legend of a potentially killer Bigfoot looms large over the area, crossing the wrong character equally poses a mortal danger, and the documentary conveys that palpable human threat. In this way, Sasquatch is gripping, and full of shocking revelations as it takes the viewer on a journey that’s both an examination of cryptozoology and paranormal phenomena, and a true crime investigation.

Rofé joined Den of Geek for a Paranormal Pop Culture Hour to discuss the series, and how he became connected to Holthouse’s strange tale. In the following interview the director opens up about a childhood fear of the Jersey Devil, and how that fear was nothing compared to the frightening nature of some of the people he had to interview for Hulu’s Sasquatch.

Note: Quotes edited lightly for clarity and length

Den of Geek: There are weird parallels here with Lorena, the Lorena Bobbitt documentary, because you take something you assume people know a lot about, but they really only know part of the story.

Joshua Rofé: It’s interesting, my producing partner, Steven Berger, we sort of started to realize in the last couple of years, that our M.O. is we like a story about a household name, a word that is just part of common vernacular … where you come in with a totally preconceived notion. And by the end of it, hopefully, you will never think of that name or that word the same way again.

Why Sasquatch? Was it your own pre-existing fascination?

I grew up in New Jersey. When I was a kid, we’d go to day-camp in the summer, and it was in the Pine Barrens. I grew up terrified of the Jersey Devil. You’d have one or two sleepovers a summer, where you’re camping out, and [counselors] would take you to the old canteen, which is just an abandoned shed. You think, as a nine-year-old, that this is where the Jersey Devil resides. You grow up and sort of never think about that again but it’s still in your being.

Cut to February 2018. I’m making Lorena, and I have dinner with a buddy of mine, Zach Cregger. He’s one of the executive producers on this show. His parting words to me are, “By the way, you’ve got to listen to this podcast. You’re either going to love it, or you’re going to think I’m crazy for loving it, and it’s called Sasquatch Chronicles.”

Immediately, I just had no interest. Despite what I had been sort of terrified over as a kid, with the Jersey Devil, cryptids were just, at that moment in time, they were not something that I gave much thought to. And he said, “Just listen.”

Culture

The Golden Age of Bigfoot Movies

By Jim Knipfel

What Sasquatch Chronicles is, is people calling up with their encounter stories. The next day, I listened to one episode. By the end of four days later, I’d listened to 11 episodes, and I was not hung-up on whether or not I believed the details of the stories. That was sort of irrelevant to me. What I was immediately taken by and really overwhelmed by was I sensed authentic, visceral fear as through-line with every story, from every caller.

I started to have this conversation with myself. Am I going to make a Sasquatch something? I can’t. I make social issue documentaries. My collaborators are going to laugh at me. And then I got to this point at the end of the week, where I said, “I’m going to make a Sasquatch-centric story. I don’t know if it’s a doc, I don’t know if it’s scripted, but this is amazing. And I’m going to do something.”

In the first episode of the documentary, you reveal David hasn’t told this story before. He has plenty of insane stories but kept this one in his back pocket. Why did he tell you about it now?

Keep in mind, David was working on Lorena with me at the time. I knew that in his experience as a gonzo journalist, he had seen and done a lot of crazy things. I sent him a text, and I just said, “Hey, I promise this is the craziest text I’m going to send you for the next five years. I want to find a murder mystery that’s somehow wrapped up in a Sasquatch story and pursue it as the next project.” He texted me right back. He said, “I love it. I got one. I’ll call you in five.” And then he proceeded to tell me that story from 1993, and here we are.

This is a murder investigation of sorts, and an exploration of this outlaw territory, but you begin with interviews from that Sasquatch community. Why did you find it was necessary to include them? You could just have gone straight to the territory where these murders took place.

If we were going to try and figure out what happened with this Sasquatch murder mystery, we needed to start at ground zero. And ground zero in many was, “Well, let’s understand Bigfoot culture. Let’s understand the history of Bigfoot.” Talking to people who can explain that very credibly, particularly in the Bigfoot community, and also talking to people who when they’re telling you about their experience … it feels authentic. You never for a second think, “Oh, this person is putting me on.” You know that they believe what they’re telling you … There’s a former cop in this who, when he relays his experience, I mean, this grown man is about to cry. He is terrified just recalling it, and it’s very tough to dismiss that.

Can you walk me through the unique challenges you faced as you filmed in this pretty dangerous Mendocino area?

All of the credit for that goes to David Holthouse. That’s his work, that’s his reporting, that’s his skillful and relentless development of sources, and frankly, putting himself in really dangerous situations when there was no camera present.

There’d be moments where we would be up there in Northern California, and maybe the next day was an interview with a Squatcher. Certainly, not somebody in the criminal underworld. [The crew] leaves the hotel, 8:00 AM, to get to somebody’s place. David, that night before, was going to meet a potential source, very much from that underworld and say, “Here’s where I’m going to be. If you don’t hear from me by this time, that’s bad.”

I remember just sitting, wide awake till two, three in the morning, just waiting for that text message, “I’m out. I’m safe. I’m heading back to the hotel. I’m good.” So there was a lot of that, and then there was a lot of, when we were in the places that we were, sort of being overcome with this feeling of, “We better not overstay our welcome, because we’re not welcome here to begin with essentially.” And so, that was a new experience.

Do you think some of these folks up there in the Emerald Triangle, legitimately do believe in the existence of Sasquatch?

Absolutely. There are a ton of people up there who believe in the existence of Sasquatch, and they would base that on experiences they will tell you they’ve had. There’s a line David has in the show, where he talks about the belief in the supernatural up there, meaning Northern California, deep in those woods, running on a higher vibration.

You said that you hadn’t really previously experienced this kind of threat of danger with your work. Was this something that David tried to prep you for?

It was more conversation, sort of as a group, of, “Do we need security?” … Actually, you know what? I haven’t thought about this since it happened. We looked into hiring security. Nobody would go. Nobody would go, and it was something more or less like, if it’s going to go down, it’s going to go down.

I don’t remember David prepping us, so much as those conversations as a group, but I think everybody just understood. I think a big rule for me personally, and my crews, when we’re shooting docs is, somebody’s letting us in their home. Man, I don’t care if you have totally different political beliefs, I don’t care what. Someone’s letting us in their home. It’s like please and thank you, and take your shoes off, and be respectful. It was kind of that on steroids for this, which is, “Oh, and somebody might have an AR-15 in the bedroom, so everybody just behave yourself.”

…And the answers to our original question of, “What happened the day that these people claimed a Sasquatch murdered these people?” Well, some of those people were going to potentially hold the answers.

Let me backtrack a little bit to the hardcore Bigfoot stuff because you do talk to Bob Gimlin as well as Bob Hieronimus, who claims he was the guy in a Bigfoot suit. Did you walk away, finding one or the other slightly more reliable?

Oh, I don’t want to answer this one … I think there are going to be people who are going to believe both of these guys. These guys are in their eighties now, and — we’re going into very mild spoilers, but it’s one of my favorite things in the show, actually — there’s a real rivalry that is clearly decades old between the two of them, and it turns out they live down the street from each other, which is amazing. It’s a wild dynamic between the two of them, for sure. As surly as they get when they can be talking about each other, they’re both the nicest guys. They’re both the nicest guys, so welcoming, so thoughtful.

From that nine-year-old kid, camping in the Pine Barrens, terrified of the Jersey Devil, to now being on the other side of this three-part documentary, what is your takeaway about the power of legends?

Like you were saying, from being a kid who was afraid, camping in the Pine Barrens, to then listening to those stories on Sasquatch Chronicles, and hearing that visceral fear from these folks, to then making this and being in those woods — and feeling fear again. I think fear is a very powerful tool, and legends are often born out of people feeling afraid or wanting to make others feel afraid for specific reasons. And that’s where the real story lies, I think, a lot of times. I’m not coming down definitively on the existence of whatever or not, but people like to wield fear in the name of control. I think that’s where a lot of legends are born, and I personally find that endlessly fascinating.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Sasquatch, the three-part documentary directed and executive produced by Joshua Rofé, and produced by Duplass Brothers Productions is available to stream on Hulu now.

The post Sasquatch: Hulu Docuseries Director on Murder by Bigfoot appeared first on Den of Geek.

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ziracona · 4 years ago

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And I hate to do this- So on that thread, not that he's as bad, why do you think Michael is redeemable? (and also Frank) Especially by his main victim? :? I hope that isn't as bad or as judgmental as I think it sounds... - Sleepy (its like 5am here :3 living up to my name i see)

So, these I gave a short and a long answer for under cut, but forgot I’m on mobile and can’t do that. I can tag it “long post” but uhhh, sorry about this. Anyway, thats why Frank comes in two chunks. I wrote it expecting to be able to use a read more. :’-] also ya fine. And I hope you’re in bed 🤣 now. Okay so. Here’s my reasons:

For Michael, to start, Halloween is complicated af. You have to know what timeline people are talking about, because there are like 8+ and Michael has been written as a wildly different character by wildly different content creators, and I would not feel the same ways towards them all. They’re not the same character. When I talk about Michael, unless I’m going on about a specific other film, I mean either H20 canon, or DbD canon, which are in line with each other when it comes to characterization. (This also includes Halloween’s 1 & 2 in the H20 line, and Halloween 1 at least in DbD). In those timelines, Michael has like at best 2% agency and choice in his own life and what he becomes. That’s why I am sympathetic. I still root for Laurie to nail his ass to the wall of course, and everything he has done to hurt someone isn’t okay just because his life is unfair & awful & out of his control, but I still find him a very tragic character. He was canonically suffering violent psychosis his parents refused him treatment for, isolated with a monster as his doctor & only human contact for 15 years from age 6 on, overdosed on medications that when OD’d worsen psychosis symptoms and can cause permanent brain damage, and stuck like that until escaping briefly when he turned 21.

In Halloween canon, Michael tells his parents he hears voices telling him to do bad things like hurt people, but they tell him he is imagining stuff, and ignore his attempts to get help. The voices say they will be quiet, which is what he desperately wants, if he kills his sister Judith. So he does, at age six. Scientifically speaking, that’s literally too young to really have a complete grasp on death and mortality itself, let alone complex ethics. He immediately goes to his parents after doing the deed, so they can do whatever they need to do. Instead of getting him help, he is sentenced to 15 years in a 1960s American sanitorium (hell), until he turns 21 and can be tried for murder as an adult (fucking ridiculous and unfair?? Tried as an adult is for like, upper teens who commit heinous murders. How tf you justify trying a six year old literally too young to really understand murder as an adult for murdering someone??). They give him to Dr. Sam Loomis, a fucking horrible person, who says he spends 8 years trying to help Michael (a fkn lie), but canonically by only a few months of meeting the kid is thoroughly convinced he is evil, the devil or a demon in human form, faking his psychosis and side effect symptoms (trauma induced mutism from killing his sister, onset of catatonia/motion loss symptoms, etc, all of which are common with his disorder & trauma), desperate to kill again, and an evil mastermind doing the devil’s work, and says so. Spends four hours every day accusing Michael as a six year old child on, of planning to do horrible things and faking his illness and being a demon and not a human, and Loomis, from age 6 to 21, is this kid’s only human contact. And the staff knew it and how wrong and disturbed Loomis was, but did nothing. So from age 6 to 21—barring one or two visits from his mom & Laurie before his dad beat 4 year old Laurie for saying Michael’s, who he hated after Judith’s death, name—until she trauma blocked out having had a brother or sister at all, and then both parents died in a car crash—his only human contact in complete isolation was an adult man who told him for four hours a day he was an evil lying demon faking his symptoms and plotting murder and not a human and promised he would kill Michael and stop him, from childhood on, and that was it. He was never given an understanding of what was medically wrong with him, or that anything was at all. He was threatened and abused and kept overdosed on drugs for 15 years since early childhood, and his only understanding of the world taught in that absolute isolation, was that he was a demon who wanted to get out and kill again. And the violent psychosis, telling him if he killed both sisters, they would go away and leave him in peace with no more constant noise. With no normal understanding of the world or people or life like he was owed ever given to him, no understanding at all of what you were going through or were aside from the promise drilled into your head you were a monster who wanted to kill every day for 15 years while drugged up? Like, I’m a firm believe people are responsible for their own actions, but in a case as extreme as that, honestly, how else was that ever going to even be able to end? You forget, as a child. Who you used to be. That’s beyond grooming even, it’s being grown in a lab for the sole purpose of someday walking out, taking a large kitchen knife, and killing Laurie Strode. And it’s tragic. It’s unfair. Halloween is a tragedy, not a horror film. It didn’t have to be that way. He wanted help. He asked for help. Loomis is directly and pretty much solely responsible for the lives lost in 1978. You know he won’t even call Michael “him”? The only human he contact he had since age six on called him “it.” And no one stopped any of that. And even then. Even then, even with all that. With the drugs, and the lab grown killer, and all of it? Michael is pretty much the single least sadistic slasher killer there /is/.

Everyone he kills in Halloween? He kills fast. It’s actually kind of boring if you’re expecting a scary slasher, because there’s no chase until Laurie. He just appears, runs you through, and you die. Very fast. And if there is any emotion expressed towards the act of killing or aftermath, it’s not pleasure or hate or happiness, it’s curiosity, because literally everything is something he wasn’t allowed to experience growing up and just has no practical experience with yet. And on top of all that, he also just doesn’t kill people he doesn’t have to. He kills one man for clothes, kills Annie to re-do Judith’s murder since it didn’t work the first time and he needs both sisters for the voices to stop, and he kills Bob and Lynda becuase they stumble onto where he is & are a threat to success. (This + Judith 15 years prior is all the deaths in Halloween period, btw). Michael routinely only kills his target, and anyone who is a threat to success. Literally doesn’t even jump out to kill Bob or attack until Bob opens the door to the closet he was hiding in, and he has been seen. Walks past a security guard and lets him go in H20 becuase he doesn’t see him, steals keys from a mom with her 4 year old kid and doesn’t even hurt them because they don’t see him really either, steals a knife from an old lady making a sandwich who is one foot away but looking the other direction, so he lets her go. Even with all the possible stakes against him, really, Michael is like, the least cruel and most sympathetic and merciful version of that lab grown killer possible, which can only be a testament to the person he was initially/still somehow has managed to keep faint traces of alive inside.

As for Laurie finding him redeemable, answer is threefold I guess, and I’ll start with the most important. 1: in Halloween canon, Laurie cares for Michael and is incredibly sad about what he turned into and wishes he could be different (once she remembers who he is). That’s established canon, not a choice of mine. In Halloween 2, she tries to talk him down before shooting him, and he hesitates when she says his name and lowers his weapon for a moment. In H20, she talks about him a lot & even asks her boyfriend (a psychologist) if he thinks something so traumatic can happen to someone that they can never recover, bc even though she hasn’t seen him in 20 years, he’s still on her heart. She hesitates to kill him once she has him helpless in the finale, and when he reaches out for her hand, she almost cries and starts to reach back because it’s what she has truly wanted for so long. 2: Michael & Laurie are siblings, and that’s a very important relationship to me. Obviously, there’s lines where you cross, it’s fkn over, but it is special, and I’m weak for it. They were both cheated of the good family life they could have had, and I like characters I care for getting recovery and rehabilitation, and I would like them to be able to recover and have whatever fragments of the lives they wanted which are still possible. And then 3: Laurie is his victim, but they’re also both victims of Loomis, and the system, and her parents, and if she does /wish/ for him to be okay and things to be like they were, which was canon before me, so she does, then I think them finding happiness and her relief and new hope in regained family and him redemption and rehabilitation through the quite literally only person he has /ever/ known who treated him well or like even a human at all & is still living, that’s so good. It’s sweet, and it makes sense. I like broken people putting the pieces together and finding ways to be okay. None of the shit that happened to either of them was okay, and Michael sure did fucking do it, but it’s about as “it’s complicated” as literally possible, and Laurie wants him to be her brother again, and Michael deserves a chance to experience personhood enough to want anything like that again too, and I think it’s sweet. To be able to find happiness and peace and a new life in that rubble. It shouldn’t be possible, because Halloween is a tragedy that never gets a happy ending, no matter how many timelines they create or versions they tell, but I wish it could have one. It needs one. At least one, among all the fated tragedies for those two cruelly cursed siblings. They both had their lives stolen. Michael by Loomis, and Laurie by Michael. And I want them to find those stolen lives again. And if they can do it together, that’s a very odd and unusual set of circumstances for that kind of thing, but it’s a very complete way to tell the story. He tried to kill her, but if she asked him to stop and he stopped, if he himself chose to change on his own, when it really, really mattered—decided that it was what he wanted more than all the things he was before, and she decided that was enough, and they could both have a future as family? I like that. It’s a happy ending stolen back.

Long Frank Answer, in case you /have/ read ILM & thus short answer did not answer your question: So. Again, for me, I always talk about Frank as in the version of him I myself write, and I wrote ILM before the archives retcon, and also just ignore them because they’re usually dumb and blatantly contradict well established and longstanding canon. Even then, I usually don’t like Frank though—didn’t like him when I started writing ILM. But Frank has very little established canon character. All there is for sure is he was a foster kid that went through some bad stuff, he met Julie and changed his mind about desperately trying to be homed somewhere other than with Clive bc he liked Julie a lot, he met Susie and Joey, they became a gang chilling in Ormond’s abandoned lodge, then tried to rob a store Joey was fired from, were surprised by a cleaner who grabbed Julie, and Frank impulse stabbed him, freaked, and ordered the others to finish it with him and be in it together. Then before they’d even really finished burying the body, they got snagged. That leaves a whole lot of personality and thoughts and motivations and future choices and person wildly undetermined. Writing, sometimes characters just do their own thing completely out of my control, and I have to adapt. Frank chose not to kill Meg at the end of Tenacity, Adrenaline, & Grit, which surprised me, because he’d been nothing but a dipshit asshole bastard till one minute ago, but I knew it was because he recognized what she’d tried to do at great pain to herself because she wouldn’t bow down and die, and he connected/empathized or sympathized on some level. He also couldn’t go through with killing Quentin immediately after being helped by him in Distortion/Iron Maiden. Neither was like, planned. It’s just who the character was. I was frustrated. I did not want to like or feel sympathy for Frank at all. Then in The Lost, Jeff just fkn hijacked the whole plot and added 20 pages not in the outline because he wanted to be kind to Frank & it’s not like I can stop characters when they do whatever they do. And while writing it, I got to know that the version of Frank Morrison in the world I was writing—which is always the version I refer to/think of him as & write now myself—was not somebody past saving. He’s a piece of shit and he’s done fucked up and inexcusable stuff, and he pays for it. In many ways, Frank gets away with a lot over the course of ILM, but it’s always because characters choose on their own to forgive him, not because they or he doesn’t think it was fucked. And Frank suffers—a lot—for his choices, and has to live through appropriate and large amounts of regret and remorse about stuff he did before the end. He gets the chance to make better choices several times, and mostly he doesn’t. He continues to fuck up. But right near the end, he makes a couple good decisions when it’s down to the wire, sees where his bad choices got him and what he has to live with, and then he does live with it. He almost dies, and then ends up falling on Jeff’s mercy, which he knows he doesn’t deserve and doesn’t expect to get, for a last chance to make it, and because Jeff is an ungodly kind and forgiving soul, he makes it.

Frank isn’t a good person, and he does a lot of stuff that isn’t remotely okay or justified or excused, but he /is/ a kid—the upper end of it, but he’s not a full grown adult. He has every reason to believe nothing of himself or others, a fucked up childhood and life which isn’t his fault, and the Entity got all four Legion kids before they’d even had time to process the one and only violent crime they did (which was unplanned), and it is historically running a PHD in psychological warfare vs everyone. Absolutely none of that excuses or justifies him, but it is an explanation for some of it that is not as bad as say, doing that shit for fun or cruelty or hate or what have you, which makes him a bad person, but one with a lot more humanity left than say, Kenneth. Who is at -100 or something. If he’s still got a lot of humanity left, that means he could be redeemed, and he eventually chooses that path for himself and hits the appropriate “I did something horrible. Fuck. It was really bad. I should not have done it.” “I am really sorry I did this. I feel awful. I’m sorry.” “I cant change it, but I can try to do better and make whatever reparations I can.” “I want to be better, and I am going to try.” necessary stages of actually trying to improve. So, I like him. He did a lot of really awful shit that wasn’t okay, but he was never without sympathetic elements. He does love his friends and his girlfriend, he is a good boyfriend to Julie and selfless towards her and his crew (overall anyway—has even risked death for them very willingly, even the one who was fighting with/kinda hated him), will keep his word in deals and has some semblance of both sympathy and honor, feels guilt, is a kid, did not choose this life but was rather catapulted into it and too weak to climb out once he landed in the mud. All of that together makes him someone I feel sympathy towards and find quite redeemable, so long as he will decide he wants that, which, in ILM, he does. If you just meant Frank in general then idk how to answer because there’s not much established Frank period it’s kinda a shell like all original dead by daylight characters, and I have no thoughts on it by itself because it’s not a whole person, and so I really only think of Frank as ILM verse Frank now.

#ask #sleepy #hope this is coherant. I love answering but I’m also on vacation trip rn so I’m not proofreading & u get what u get 🤣 adds flavor #in living memory (fic)#in living memory #spoilers #ILM spoilers #Halloween #dead by daylight #long post #Michel is not the villain of Halloween: he and Laurie are both the victims & it’s a fkn Greek tragedy #they both deserved so much more than the lives they were thrown into #: (#sad now just thinkin bout it

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wanderingcas · 5 years ago

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Safe and Sound. Commission for @starsmish 3.5k words

. . .

Castiel leans back against the wall adjacent to the men’s bathroom, looking down at the watch-face poking out of his sleeve. People stare at him curiously as they filter in and out of the restrooms. Castiel smiles politely back, all the while keeping his eyes trained for a specific face: one with bright green eyes, a jawline that Castiel is positive would cut glass, and dusty blonde hair.

He was assigned to Dean Winchester approximately two weeks ago. What Castiel originally thought was going to be a low-key assignment, protecting Lawrence’s newly-appointed councilman is turning out to be one of his more difficult cases.

The first red flag is that Dean’s family hired Castiel without informing Dean at all. According to the family, Dean had been receiving death threats from an alt-right group so cleverly named “the Trumpers” because of Dean’s very liberal agenda in his politics. The family was concerned. Castiel assumed that Dean was also concerned.

But when Castiel walked into the room and saw Dean for the first time, saw the equal parts of surprised and pissed off look on Dean’s face: that was Castiel’s second red flag.

He checks his watch again. It’s been 20 minutes.

“Goddammit.” Castiel pivots and swings through the bathroom door. He opens each empty stall. He does a useless circle around the empty bathroom.

“God damn it,” he says again, voice echoing off the tiles.

. . .

It isn’t hard to find Dean, as the workaholic councilman is parked where he usually is: his office.

Castiel smacks a styrofoam cup onto Dean’s desk. Drops of cold coffee spring to liberate themselves through the plastic lid’s opening. “You forgot this.”

Dean’s eyes barely leave his computer screen. “Mm,” he replies. He picks it up; sips. Grimaces. “That’s disgusting.”

Sitting in a chair across from Dean’s desk, Castiel says, “Yes, Dean. That’s because it’s cold. Because you left it. Hours ago.”

“Huh,” Dean says.

“When you left a location without informing me,” Castiel continues to explain. “Again.” Dean still doesn’t look up. “That’s dangerous,” Castiel adds.

“Uh-huh.”

Castiel kicks the desk with the toe of his foot, making it rattle. “Are you even listening to me?”

Dean finally takes his hands off the keyboard, folds them in front of him. “Cas. I have more important things to do than listen to you bitch about how you failed at your job. Again.”

“You can’t keep running away from me,” Castiel says tightly. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re constantly running away.”

Dean leans back in his chair, laces his fingers behind his head. “I dunno, I’d call it more like… walking briskly. Not my fault that you’re too slow.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Huh. Didn’t see you.”

“I was waiting,” Castiel continues, leaning forward, “as I was all the other times when you’ve attempted to ditch me. During that press conference on Wednesday, at every grocery store you go into, at the restaurant last night—”

“Well, you being on my date was a little weird, to be fair,” Dean says.

“Dean.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “You hired me to protect you. I can’t do that if you won’t allow me to do so.”

“My family hired you,” Dean corrects, “and based on some stupid disorganized Trump fanatic group that couldn’t even find their own ass if it was handed to them. Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I’m keeping you around to make my brother chill out. That’s it. I don’t need your damn protection.”

“I disagree,” Castiel says. “I’ve been monitoring tagged posts with your Twitter username, and some of them are violent death threats. From multiple extremist groups. Additionally, you did a very poor job at hiding the letter you received that depicted a very graphic drawing of you getting eaten alive by hellhounds.”

“But that’s all they are, Cas,” Dean says. “Threats. Nothing’s actually happened. You’ve been up my butt for weeks; have you seen anyone stalking me? Confronting me personally?” At Castiel’s reluctant dissenting head shake, Dean says, “See? It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Castiel hasn’t known Dean long, but he can identify three qualities in him: stubborn, handsome, and fiercely loyal to his family. Castiel straightens in his chair and plays his last hand “Elections are coming up,” he says. “That’s when people get most heated. And if you’re ignoring the seriousness of the situation, there may be an attack on you that could get multiple people hurt if it’s not intercepted. Like the woman you were on a date with last night.” Castiel takes a breath, attempts to hit home. “Or your family.”

It has the desired effect: Dean’s face becomes stormy and still. He slowly points a finger at Castiel, jabbing with it in the air. “Don’t you dare bring my family into this.”

“I am not doing so. The people who are threatening your life will.”

Dean sits, stone-faced, until an unheard noise makes Dean snap to attention. “All right, Cas. You wanna play it like that? Then here’s what I think: you’re bad at your job. It’s why you work as an independent contractor who costs next to nothing to hire. You’re shitty at your profession, and you’re blaming me for it. I’m not a ninja, and yet I slip past you every goddamn time. You think that’s a coincidence?”

Castiel clenches the fabric of his pants, bunched at the knees, willing himself not to take the bait. “If this whole thing is some sort of ridiculous self-punishment—”

“Where the hell did you pull that out of your ass?” Dean scoffs.

“—from that attack last year that hurt your brother, instead of you, because he got caught in the crossfire—”

Dean says, voice raised and sharp, “Don’t you dare bring that up, you son of a—”

“You could really get hurt, Dean!” Castiel shouts above him. “This isn’t a damn game. No matter what your problem is with me, or with having protection in the first place, you have to face the facts.”

They stare at each other in a moment of silent standoff. The hallway beyond Dean’s office’s open door has gone tensely quiet.

Dean stands and pushes his chair back harder than necessary. “I did a little digging on you too,” he says, a little too calmly. “You were fired from the former Secretary of State’s detail because you made a mistake on the job. It’s classified, obviously, but I’m willing to bet it had to do with that bomb making its way to the East Wing. Am I on the right track?”

Castiel clenches his jaw. “The whole security detail was fired,” he says. “Not just me.”

There’s a flicker in Dean’s expression—a softness that Castiel had not seen yet from him—but it’s gone as fast as it occurred. He replaces it with a condescending smile. “Pretty hard to protect anyone properly after that piss-poor mistake, huh?”

Something in Castiel’s chest splinters. “All right,” he snaps, the backs of his knees smacking the chair as he stands. “Message received. I’ll resign from protecting you, effective immediately. You won’t be hearing from me again.”

“Peachy,” Dean shoots back. He falls back into his chair, trains his eyes once again onto the computer screen again.

Castiel has his hand on the knob, clenching it so hard it could shatter. “Whatever your opinion of me is; I hope you think about what I said.” He turns the knob sharply against the silence behind him, says, “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” before slamming the door behind him.

He takes the stairs that are down the hall from Dean’s office. His feet hitting the metal stairs echo sharply in the empty space. Striding through the lobby of the office building, he narrowly avoids connecting shoulders with a group of men who are walking quickly in the other direction.

When he gets outside, he doesn’t know what to do. He pulls his scarf against the wind. As is the theme of the week, people look at him strangely as he stands there, staring down at the sidewalk. The sun begins to slump in the sky.

“Idiot,” he says to the ground, as if to explain. “He’s a goddamn idiot.”

Despite this, he knows he has to go back in.

He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, indecisive, until his phone begins vibrating violently in his coat pocket. He scrambles to take it out with his stiff fingers and pulls off a glove with his teeth so he can hit the green button on the touchscreen. “Hello?”

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, cut off by something that sounds like static.

Castiel holds the phone closer to his ear, listening intently. “Dean? Hello?”

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, again, this time more desperate. It sounds like some sort of fabric is being rubbed against the receiver, making the connection fuzzy. A few odd thuds are heard over the receiver.

“Dean, what’s going on? Where are you?” He hears Dean’s voice again, but this time it’s not forming a word—more like a cry. The realization of what’s happening dumps over Castiel like cold water.

“Fuck,” Castiel says.

Like a shot out of a gun, he whips around and bolts through the revolving doors. He holds the phone to his ear like a lifeline with one hand, pushing people out of the way with the other. “Dean, hang on!” he shouts into the phone. “I’m coming, just hang on! Call the police, tell them to come to office 202!” he barks at the bewildered doorman as he sprints by.

He was only gone for ten minutes, he thinks desperately. Or twenty. How long was he standing outside?

Castiel dashes into the stairwell he used earlier to leave. As he begins sprinting up the stairs, he hears the grunts and thuds he heard over the phone become a reality.

Castiel throws his phone aside and increases his speed, taking two stairs at a time. He sees a group of men all huddled around one broken one. He jumps at the back of one of the men, barely slowing his sprint, knocking him to the ground.

Seeing Dean bleeding and curled up on the ground brings out something primal in Castiel. He kicks a man over the railing, barely hearing the thump that follows. He punches a man with one fist and pivots to scissor-chop a man’s neck with the other. Castiel barely sees how many people there even are, barely stacks the odds in the fight: he just knows that Dean is in danger, Dean needs to be helped, Dean needs protection.

Among the chaos, Dean has teetered to his feet and is fighting beside Castiel, landing the occasional second blow after Castiel deals the real damage. Castiel grabs Dean by the arm, leading him toward the door that opens to the hallway. He fumbles for his taser, aiming and firing at a man running toward them.

“Go to your office and lock the door,” Castiel tells Dean, already pushing him into the hallway. He sees an argument in Dean’s eyes; Castiel barks, “Go!”

. . .

In the end, one man against six is a bit stacked, even for a trained bodyguard. He’s caught in a headlock and can barely see out of his left eye by the time the police arrive.

As soon as his neck is free, the police shouting at the assailants to get on the ground around him, he stumbles into the light of the hallway and runs toward Dean’s office.

He finds Dean with the EMTs, a blanket being put around his shoulders, a stretcher prepared for him to be taken to an ambulance downstairs.

Castiel stands in the doorway, waves off the medic trying to treat him. “Focus on the councilman,” he snaps.

Castiel walks beside the stretcher as they wheel Dean out of the building; Castiel can tell that Dean is pretty hurt since he barely protests to the special treatment.

When Dean reaches for Castiel’s hand, he decides that Dean is downright delusional; nonetheless he grabs Dean’s hand tightly, refusing to let go during the whole ambulance ride to the hospital.

. . .

“Cas.”

Castiel raises his head from where it’s cradled in his hands. His delirious mind mistakes the voice for Dean’s; a few blinks into the fluorescent hospital lights confirms that it’s Sam Winchester looming before him.

He feels a whole new wave of shame overtake him. “Sam.” Castiel wipes a shaking hand over his face. “God. I don’t know how to—” He stutters out a breath. “How is he?”

Sam sits in the plastic chair next to Castiel’s. “He’s stable. A few broken ribs, concussion… nothing too serious, though. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation.”

Castiel nods. He can’t sit still, has a weird tremor in his leg. “I am so sorry,” he whispers.

“How long have you been here?” Sam asks.

It’s a ridiculous question that Castiel couldn’t care less about the answer to. “I don’t know. What time is it?”

“They brought Dean in six hours ago,” Sam says. “I got on a flight as soon as you called me.”

Castiel nods numbly. He doesn’t even remember that phone call. Or where his phone is now.

“Cas.” Sam puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder; he flinches at the touch. “Have you had anyone look at you?”

“There was a nurse,” Castiel says. He vaguely points to his swollen left eye. “Stitches.” He can’t meet the younger Winchester’s eyes. It makes no sense that Sam’s being gentle or caring to someone who so tragically and stupidly let his older brother down. If anything, Sam should be shoving lawsuit papers underneath Castiel’s nose.

“They arrested all the guys that attacked him,” Sam says. He huffs a laugh. “Although the majority of them had to be hospitalized, too, after the number you did on them.”

Castiel clears his throat against the scratchiness that’s rising up in it. “Dean fought back, too.”

Sam chuckles, shakes his head. “Of course he did.”

They sit in silence, as nurses and white coats and stretchers scurry by. Castiel keeps his eyes on the scuffed linoleum floor that’s yellowed with age.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam says, shattering the silence.

Sharply rising to his feet, Castiel says, “Don’t.”

Sam stands with him. “Seriously, Cas, it wasn’t. Dean was being difficult. He ignored the dangers—and you can probably tell by now how freaking stubborn he is. I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long with him.”

“I should have stayed by his side, no matter how much he complained,” Castiel says. “It’s part of the job. I didn’t do my due diligence, I didn’t protect him, I didn’t even see this attack coming—”

“Cas, whoa, slow down.” Sam puts a hand on his shoulder again, pulls him to face him. “These guys that attacked Dean aren’t even an alt-right group that was contacting him with those death threats. It was a completely random attack. They saw Dean go into the building and they impulsively decided to go in.” He looks imploringly at Castiel. “I don’t blame you, not even for a minute. And neither does Dean.”

Castiel feels something thrum through him. “He’s awake?”

“Yeah. And he’s asking for you. That’s why I came out here.”

“I don’t—” Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“I think he wants to apologize,” Sam continues, “Which for Dean is … well, frankly, a minor miracle. So don’t pass up this opportunity, okay?”

Castiel looks for a moment at Sam’s reassuring smile. “I’ll go,” he finally relents. “At the very least to apologize to him.”

“Whatever makes you two stubborn idiots talk to each other,” Sam says with a gentle pat on Castiel’s back.

Dean’s hospital room is a private room with a security guard stationed in front of it. Castiel doesn’t meet the guard’s eyes as he walks in.

Dean is on the bed, hunched over a sprawl of papers on his lap. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around his bare torso.

Castiel stands there for a moment, mouth open, staring at the scene. “What the ever-loving hell are you doing?”

Dean looks up. “Hey, Cas,” he says with a lopsided grin.

“‘Hey, Cas’?” Castiel spits out. “Are you kidding me? You’re doing work?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, barely gets a word out before Castiel is striding over to him and snatching the papers from him, dumping them on the floor. “And you shouldn’t be half-naked in a hospital where you can catch a cold,” Castiel continues, snapping Dean’s hospital gown in the air before depositing it on his head. “Put that on.”

“Jesus, fine,” Dean tentatively putting his arms through the sleeves, wincing at the disturbed bruises on his skin. “I didn’t realize Sam hired a nanny instead of a bodyguard.”

Castiel sits in the chair adjacent to the bed, bristling. “I won’t have you getting hurt on my watch again, Dean,” he snaps. “Not for the last few hours I’m in your employment.”

Dean blinks. “Are you quitting?”

Castiel looks at him incredulously.

“Okay, yeah. Well, I probably owe you an explanation.” Dean shifts minutely in his bed. “And an apology.”

Seeing Dean vulnerable deflates Castiel from any anger. “No, I have to apologize. If I had been there—”

“But you weren’t, because I pushed you away, Cas. The things I said to you…” Dean rubs at the eye that’s not bandaged, huffing out a sigh. “I said those awful things because I knew pissing you off wouldn’t make you go away; hurting you would. I know how to find people’s weak spots and apply pressure. It’s why I’m in politics I guess.”

“It’s not like the things you said to me weren’t true,” Castiel says softly. “You’re right in that I did get fired. That I failed at my job. Similarly to how I failed at this one.”

“No, Cas, that’s not it. You’re human, okay? But I just—” Dean pauses. Frowns down at his hands clasped over the thin, blue hospital blanket. “Sam was attacked last year. You know that. He didn’t get hurt, but—those people were after me. And I didn’t protect him. My whole life, it’s just been me and Sam against the world. I always protected him, kept him safe, and last year I realized that I just… can’t anymore.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It was fucking depressing.”

Castiel blames it on the lack of sleep when his hand reaches out and gently grasps Dean’s arm. “Dean…”

“And then Sam hires you because he thinks that I can’t take care of myself, and I just saw red. I saw you as this, I dunno,” Dean waves a hand in Castiel’s direction, “physical manifestation of everything I can’t do: take care of Sam or even myself from a bunch of crazy lunatics. I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

Tightening his grip on Dean’s arm, Castiel says, “I shouldn’t have left you.”

“It’s not your fault, Cas. Seriously. I don’t blame you for a second.” Dean wraps the hospital gown tighter around himself. “I blame myself, for being a coward. Not really facing the dangers that are out there.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Dean—”

“I know there’s bad people on both sides,” Dean says, words rushing forward. “I just wanted to… I dunno. Be one of the good guys. Be brave.”

“You are brave,” Castiel says. “You’re assertive in your beliefs, you don’t back down from your opinions just because someone dissents. That’s brave.”

Dean shrugs, pondering on that for a minute. The heart rate monitor beats a steady thrum in the silence. “That means a lot,” he finally says.

“Good. Because it’s true.” Castiel adds, firmly, “And protecting you has been an honor.”

There’s a rise of color on Dean’s cheeks; he chuckles, “Jesus, Cas, buy me dinner first.”

Castiel smiles. He pulls his hand back; as he does, Dean grabs it, just as firmly and decisively as he did while riding in the ambulance just hours before.

“I’ve been an ass,” Dean says, “and I would understand if you don’t want to. But honestly, Cas, I want you around.”

Castiel tries to take his hand back, but Dean holds tighter. “No, Dean. I think you’re incorrect. I wouldn’t keep you safe, I’d just—”

“I was safe until I pushed you away,” Dean says.

Castiel can’t argue with that. He looks away from Dean’s green eyes are imploring. “I suppose that’s true,” he admits.

“I won’t do that again,” Dean says, “seriously. I’ll let you do your job. If I promise not to keep trying to dodge you, and at least, uh—try to be less stubborn and make your life easier… would you—”

It’s the lack of sleep, Castiel thinks, it must be, because his mouth is moving and is interrupting Dean to say, “Yes.”

Dean gapes at him. “You really want to—”

“Yes,” Castiel says again. More sure this time. He squeezes Dean’s hand tighter. “If you promise not to leave me standing in front of bathrooms again as you climb through the windows, then yes, I will stay. Keep you safe.”

The smile Dean gives Castiel is blinding and beautiful, and if Castiel were hooked up to that heart rate monitor, it would be going wild, giving him away. It’s the first real one that Castiel’s since he started protecting Dean.

“I promise, Cas.”

#spn #spn ficlet #destiel #destiel fic #protective!cas #bodyguard au #<33 thank you pris for the commission #i loved writing this #starsmish #inacatastrophicmind #woefulcas #wanderingwrites

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years ago

Text

Leader or Not... ~ A Negan One-Shot

Summary:

You’d think that after 22 years of being around each other, Negan would know when not to mess with Leigh. You’d think that after 22 years of being best friends and married for the last 20, Negan would know when not to touch Leigh’s food. You’d think that after 22 years of watching Leigh threaten and even punch people for touching her food, that Negan would know better.

You’d think this...and you’d be just as wrong as Negan. Despite the fact that the only person allowed to “steal�� Leigh’s food is Negan himself, even there comes a time, and a dish, that Leigh just won’t share. Not even with her own husband. You’d think Negan would know this...both before, but especially after, the end of the world and the dead started walking the Earth.

You’d think that Negan would know not to touch Leigh’s bacon.

Warning(s): Language. Angst, maybe? Threats - spoken, unspoken, well known, good, and bad. Rules - both Negan and Leigh’s. Violence - Seriously, Don’t fuck with Leigh. Negan being an ass ‘cause, well, he’s Negan. Leigh takes Lucille’s place in the comics but doesn’t die. Secret relationship - well, secret to every-fuckin’-one that’s not Negan or Leigh. Leigh’s a badass. Not beta’d, so...there’s that. I only have Grammarly used on this.

Author’s Note(s): Here’s that new Negan fic I mentioned! :)

Word Count: 2,631 words

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic].

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Sanctuary Workers. Simon. Carson, mentioned.

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan

_______________________________________________________________________

Story Time:

Third Person’s P.O.V. ~

You’d think this...and you’d be just as wrong as Negan. Despite the fact that the only person allowed to “steal” Leigh’s food is Negan himself, even there comes a time, and a dish, that Leigh just won’t share. Not even with her own husband. You’d think Negan would know this...both before, but especially after, the end of the world and the dead started walking the Earth.

You’d think that Negan would know not to touch Leigh’s bacon.

***

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~

Sitting across the table from Negan as we eat breakfast in the cafeteria, I listen to my husband talk ‘bout the plans for the day’s scavenging runs with Simon as I glance down at my tray. Since we had a pretty good haul yesterday, the kitchen was able to whip up some scrambled eggs, french toast, and bacon. The bacon’s a treat for those of us that can afford it by havin’ ‘nough points.

Thankfully for me, though, between being Negan’s right hand, top savior, and secret wife, I can have whatever the fuck I want. My husband doesn’t care as long as I’m happy. Besides, I risk my ass to bring in the goods that we find out there. I say I’m his secret wife ‘cause...well...no one else knows he and I together.

At least not officially. Everyone knows to keep their hands to themselves. My husband doesn’t tolerate rape, and I don’t either. Plus, I may have once cut a man’s dick off and shoved it down his throat when he tried to get fresh with me. That was at the beginning when I was helping Negan get this place set up and there hasn’t been another incident like it since.

He and I decided that it would be in my best interest, and his too since he’s the Bossman, if there wasn’t a giant target on my back, painting me as his weakness. Not that I’m weak. I’m not. I’ve made that abundantly clear in the last few years since the dead started walking, and even before, way back when civilized society was still a thing.

Yet, neither of us could handle the thought of someone trying to use me to get my husband. He can’t stand the thought of someone trying to hurt me. I’m his wife, after all, the love of his life, the one woman who’s always been there, or at least been there for the last 22 years, ever since senior year of college.

And, I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting Negan in any way whatsoever. He’s my husband, the love of my life, my best friend, and my whole world. And hurting me, well, it hurts him, and I ain’t ‘bout to let that happen. So, we decided that we’d keep our relationship a secret. It hasn’t been easy, that’s for fuckin’ sure.

Not when I see women, and hell even some men, flirt with him, thinking they have a chance. Before the world ended, I used to slide up next to him, my hands all over him, and make it clear that he wasn’t single. Now...I just grit my teeth and give the other person the deadliest glare I can, while watching Negan brush it off, only sometimes flirting back, not that part bothers me.

My husband has always been a flirt. Hell, that’s how he and I ended up becoming best friends, then dating, and even getting married two decades ago. It’s just who he is. Even so, he wouldn’t cheat on me, that I know for a fact. And, I know it abso-fuckin’-lutely kills him to see men and women flirt with me, thinking that I’d be up for a one-night stand.

I never am. Not when I have the man of my dreams still by my side. Even if he is a jealous ass at times who doesn’t like to share what’s his. That always turns into some of the best sex of our lives after he catches some fuck flirting with me. Not that I ever flirt back. That’s just not who I am; I’ve never been much of a flirter…’cept with Negan.

Other than watching people flirt with the other, Negan and I have managed to keep our relationship secret. I mean, yes. We still sneak touches, glances, and whispered words when we think no-one’s ‘round, and we always come home to each other every night, and we still wear our wedding rings, but we don’t flaunt our marital status.

And nobody questions the close-knit bond he and I have. They figure it’s just one of those “gotta survive, so I teamed up with this person” type of bonds that are common since the dead started walking. And...no one would dare question the barbed-wire covered bat-wielding, leather jacket wearing, swear with every other word, leader of the Sanctuary.

Hearing my husband’s deep chuckle, I glance up and hide a smile as I see him pat Simon’s shoulder. I raise a brow, drawing the conclusion that they’re finally finished discussing plans for the day. Maybe Simon’ll fuck off now and I can get back to enjoying breakfast with my husband. Negan glances at me and shoots me a wink as he takes a sip of the orange juice we picked up from the Hilltop a few days ago.

I blush a little, glancing back at my plate and pick up a strip of bacon, bringing it to my mouth, taking a bite, and glancing back at him. A smirk plays on my lips as I watch his eyes dart from mine to the piece of cooked meat between my lips.

“Leigh.” He growls softly.

I smirk. “Yes, Sir?”

His eyes darken and I try not to giggle at the lust and love that swims in his muddy water brown eyes. He discreetly shifts in his seat, stretching out his fuckin’ long-ass legs until his boots brush my shins. To anyone else, it’d look like he’s getting comfortable. But, I know better. He’s itching to touch me, and I know he’s hard from me calling him “Sir”.

“You’re going out on the run today, right?” He asks, playing it off like he’s not rubbing his boot up and down my lower leg.

“As far as I know, Sir. Unless you need me here for something?” I question, taking another bite of bacon.

“Nope. I need you out there with me. You’re the only fuckin’ person I trust to have my fuckin’ back and protect my sexy ass.”

I snort with a laugh. “Of course, Boss. Whatever you need.”

Simon shakes his head. “She can’t fuckin’ protect you, boss. She’s too tiny.”

Both Negan and I jerk our heads to glare at Simon. Negan’s foot pauses, pressing against my knee, I reach a hand down to slide my fingers under his jeans, and softly stroke the little bit of skin above the top of his boot in an attempt to calm him. My actions remain hidden by the table, thankfully, and I watch him relax just a little at my touch.

“Simon…” He and I both growl out at the exact same time.

“I have protected his ass since long before yours ever showed up. I’m the one who’s been there for him, stitched him up, and killed any fucker, dead or alive, who tried to take him out.” I hiss at the slightly balding man. “Yes, I am short, but you know what they say ‘bout short folks. We’re closer to Hell, so we’re meaner. And, I will fuck you up, along with any other fuckin’ dumbass that tries to mess with him.”

Negan nods. “She’s right. She will. And she’ll do it over something as simple as someone trying to steal a bite of her food. ‘Cept for me of course. ‘Cause I’m the Leader, and I can do what I fuckin’ want. Ain’t that right, doll?”

He glances at me as he reaches for a bite of my eggs. I rub my thumb across his leg as I nod. He’s right. I have fucked people up for trying to steal my food. Even if it’s just meant playfully. I don’t fuckin’ share it. Never have. Unless it was with my brothers, my best friend, and eventually Negan. It even became our thing while we were dating.

That was actually how he figured out that I liked him back.

“That’s fuckin’ right. So, Simon, if I can fuck someone up over trying to steal my food, just imagine what I can do to someone who tries to hurt Negan.” I say, finishing my strip of bacon.

Simon’s eyes widen, and I know he’s heard the stories ‘bout what I’ve done when some of the other Saviors once tried to, jokingly, take a bite of my food off my plate. Let’s just say that they ended up with jobs that didn’t require the use of both hands after that. He shakes his head, sighing.

“Whatever. I can still protect him better than you can, Leigh. I’ve easily got a foot and 150 pounds on you.” He gripes.

I raise a brow. “And we both know I’ve kicked your ass before. Or do you need a reminder?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

Negan laughs and shakes his head as he reaches for another piece of food off my tray. I don’t pay it any attention until I see what he’s reaching for. In one quick movement, my hand is off his leg, above the table, and holding a fork between his fingers, leaving it embedded in the tabletop.

“Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. My. Motherfuckin’. Bacon.” I hiss, glaring at my husband.

Every fuckin’ thing and every single person in the Sanctuary goes silent at my actions. I’m not surprised. They don’t know he and I are married. To them, I’m just a Savior who just threatened the Boss. Granted, I intentionally missed and Negan knows that. He knows I’d never hurt him. A moment later, Simon has his hands on me, jerking my arms behind my back.

I growl and slam my head back, busting his nose and knocking him to the ground, effectively loosening his grip on me. I glare at my husband for a brief moment, taking in his wide eyes and slightly opened mouth, before I quickly stand and pin Simon to the ground.

“Do. Not. Under. ANY. FUCKIN’. Circumstance. Lay. A. Fuckin’. Hand. On. Me.” I growl at him. “I’m not some bitch you can just touch, Simon. And you’d best fuckin’ remember that. What happens between Negan and I is our business. And he fuckin’ knows better than to steal my goddamn bacon. The punishment for stealing my food is NOTHING compared to someone thinkin’ they can touch me. And, if you ever fuckin’ touch me again, I will string you up by your goddamn tiny ass dick and stick you on that fence my-fuckin’-self. Am I fuckin’ understood?”

He swallows deeply, or well, as best as he can since his face is bruising, and blood pouring outta his nose. But, he nods in understanding, fear flashing through his eyes as he glares at me. I stand, kicking him in the side once, just below the ribs.

“Get the fuck outta here and go fuckin’ see Carson, you pornstache creep.” I hiss before turning back to the table, taking my seat once more, and drinking my orange juice.

I hear him shuffle to his feet before he walks away. I smirk to myself and turn my attention back to my husband. He’s clearly still in shock. Not once have I ever physically threatened him for taking my food, and it’s because I generally don’t mind. Except when it comes to my bacon. No one fuckin’ touches my bacon and he’s known that.

He was just trying to prove a point to Simon earlier, but it backfired on him. There’s only been two people in my life who I have shared my bacon with: my baby brother, Eli, and mine and Negan’s daughter, Lucille. Up until we lost her to childhood leukemia at the age of 5. I take another sip of my orange juice as I stare at my husband.

Negan holds his hands up in surrender as he lets out a shaky laugh. His foot isn’t close to my leg anymore, and if I wasn’t slightly pissed off at him for trying to steal my bacon, I’d whine softly at the loss. He leans in closer to me and just barely manages to whisper, but it’s still loud ‘nough for those ‘round to hear.

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I fuckin’ love you, sweetheart.”

My eyes widen at his words. It’s not the first time I’ve heard him tell me he loves me, but it is the first time since the dead started walking that I’ve heard him say those words where other people can clearly hear. I know my left eyebrow is now raised high, surely resting halfway between my hairline and my eye.

He just smirks that dimpled little smirk at me, thinking he’s got the upper hand again.

Oh, but he doesn’t know just how wrong he is.

I smirk over the top of my glass of orange juice, before lowering it to the table and leaning in close to him. Our lips are just a breath’s touch away from touching each other’s. Instead of kissing him right away like I really want to, I whisper something back to him.

“I love you too, and I don’t give a flying Fuck if you’re the leader or not. You. Do. Not. Fuckin’. Touch. My. Motherfuckin’. Bacon. I won’t miss next time.”

Only once the words have left my lips do I allow myself to kiss him. I don’t really give a flying fuck ‘bout everyone watching at this point. The cat’s basically outta the bag. I smile and relax, calming down a little bit, giving in to the feeling of the kiss. Just before he can turn the kiss into a more passionate one, I pull back, smirking at him.

“No runs, mister. Not today. You’ve got a punishment waiting for you in the room.” I say, my voice low and full of unspoken promises.

As I stand once more, grabbing my tray, I watch as he flashes me that devilish, dimpled grin I fell in love with over 20 years ago. That “I’m a bad boy and you shouldn’t introduce me to Grandma” dimpled grin. I wink at him before walking away, putting my tray in the bin to be cleaned later by one of the kitchen workers.

Without looking back at him, I know he’s still got that grin on his face and that he ain’t moving till his hard-on has gone down just a little so he can comfortably walk. Just before I walk out the cafeteria’s door, I raise my hand above my shoulder and flip him off. His laugh follows me out into the hallway as I make my way back to our room.

Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. He’s still my husband and our relationship’s no longer a secret. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. No one fuckin’ touches my bacon. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck. He’s getting punished. Leader or not, I don’t give a fuck.

#Leader or Not #Negan One-Shot #Negan Fanfic #Negan #Negan x OFC Character #Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan One-Shot #Jeffrey Dean Morgan Fanfic #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #JDM One-Shot #jdm fanfiction #JDM #The Walking Dead One-Shot #The Walking Dead Fanfic #The Walking Dead #TWD One-Shot #TWD Fanfic #TWD

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thequietmanno1 · 4 years ago

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Thelreads, Vigilantes 2, Replies Part 1

1)“By the name of the chapter I’d say its Pop☆Step “introduction” chapter, since she’s the closest thing to someone that fly as far as we know, but with the group here it could very well be the takeoff of their crime-fighting group.”- His no-doubt tragic backstory of dead parents or whatever aside, Knuckleduster Cleary hasn’t actually been doing his drug-hunting nightly activities for too long, given how he appears to have no allies or assets to work with besides Koichi- heck, he practically moved in and turned Koichi’s apartment into the Vigilante batcave for lack of a better place to go-and the relative scarcity of the drug itself, being handed out only to select clients the dealers meet on the street, as well as it’s relatively unknown presence in the underworld.

Like, ok, the three thugs aren’t clearly top-tier criminals with their fingers on the underworld’s pulse, but they’ve clearly never heard of the booster drug before or know what it’s effects are, so it’s a hip new substance that’s steadily making its way onto the scene, with only Knuckle aware of the threat it represents and taking action to combat it thus far. It says a lot about how underfunded Knuckle is compared to pros that he has to basically enlist ‘volunteers’ like Koichi to the cause to improve his chances, both because he can see Koichi’s potential and because he’s massively struggling to make headway with his own methods and tactics. Perhaps he should rely more on the winning smile and firm Handshake to track down his quarry, rather than the manic grin and clenched fist.

2) “Also, I checked, and Japan’s drinking age is 20, so, you already lost a few points there Koichi, best boys don’t drink while underage, you know?”-Well, depending on how he puts it, Koichi could definitely get away with telling the Cashier that he turned 20 this year, leaving out the fact that said all-important birthday hasn’t actually passed yet, to get away with getting some brewskis given how close he is to the big 20. Besides, he could certainly use a few stiff pick-me-ups after last night’s events.

3) “Oh, is someone injecting something.”-I like the phonetic connection between Knuckle pulling the ring tab seguing into the injection noise of the thugs shooting up- you can practically hear the sounds overlapping in your head.

4)“okay, let’s keep going… And the drug is just as we remember. A terrifying boost to one’ quirk, like making the lizard dude grow fucking wings what the fuck”- If spinner took it, it’s likely he’d become more like a ground-based lizard or such, based on the next/gecko imagery he had, but snaky here is clearly meant to have pterodactyl DNA in him…which makes me wonder how you clarify between overlapping quirks like theirs. I mean, they’re both reptiles, but contain different kinds of Reptile DNA, yet in their ‘normal’ anthromorphic states there’s basically no difference between the two. Do you call them both lizards or do you bother differentiating the semantics of their quirk biology on a casual description?

5) “Oh, now that’s an important point to make clear. The drug does more than just boost the power, it also guarantees that the user will turn violent by allowing them to make stupid decisions without thinking.”- Whether it’s a power high, or just the high of the chemicals altering your very physiology to a more combat-ready form, increasing your endorphins and other aggression-enhancing substances in the brain, it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll be lashing out and causing chaos without regard to the consequences when you use it, especially in the heat of the moment, basically making anybody holding a syringe a ticking time-bomb ready to wreak the street around them when they decide now’s a good time to shoot up.

And due to the illegality of said drug, it’s almost guaranteed that it’ll be in the hands of criminals and neer-do wells who’re already pissed off and upset with the suppressive state of society especially with All might running around non-stop and enforcing justice all the live long day. People like that want to act out and release their stress, and trigger represents the wrong way to go about that.

6) “Oh, now the big douche himself. What? Too afraid to do it? “-Less afraid and more cautious. As the ‘leader’ of the trio, he’s shown to be slightly less easy to sway and uncooperative with others than the other two, when he’s in a semi-reasonable state of mind. He’s not denying the usefulness of the drug, but he can tell that he and his pals are being used by the shady doll-dealer here, and he’s wondering what his angle is, and what kind of repercussions could come from taking his bread of ‘help’. However, the desire of revenge against the vigilantes, and Koichi specifically, eventually overrides his caution, and he decides to hold onto his sample so he can shoot up nice and fresh once he’s got eyes on his target, maximising the time he can use his boosted powers for payback on Koichi and Knuckle.

7) “Knuckleduster knows that the heroes have bigger thing to deal with, not to say, those guys are small fish that show up and disappear back into the crowd; they lack the necessary manpower to track down them, and as we know by the main series, it would be a few years before it became a noticeable probable to warrant the heroes’ attention.”-Not to mention that the main problem for the Vigilantes to deal with is that their main opponents aren’t the users of trigger, but rather the dealers. The users are desperate people in their own way, looking for a little something extra to make themselves feel good or help them out in a pinch, enough to use an unidentified substance they got for free off the street. The Vigilantes can pummel the crap out of as many junkies as they want whenever they randomly appear out of the crowds, but they’re only treating the symptoms of the disease, not the source. Heroes are government-mandated to patrol their areas and take down villains that appear and cause chaos, but that’s all they can actually do.

They can’t spend the time to find out why these villains appeared or find out their powers came from a boosted drug, they just beat them up, restrain them and hand them over to the police when they find them. Vigilantes Like Koichi and Knuckle, however, can be first responders, able to pre-emptivily ambush said users before they have the chance to cut loose and cause chaos, as well as dedicate their time and efforts to tracking down the drug distribution networks one pushers at a time. Their lack of resources and friendly connections between the police and heroes, whom possess a far wider range of information-gathering abilities, as evidenced by how Nighteye will later be able to form a neat outline of the interconnected drug trades when investigating the Hassaki, makes the task far harder for them, but in exchange they’re better positioned to pre-emptivily combat this rising drug ring and take them down before they become a far more serious threat to public health and safety.

8) “It also would be really easy to identify them without seeing the tongues, since they are always walking catastrophes that wreak havoc around them without any regards to who they hurt.”- Actually, the black tongues indicate that said trigger users are not only on said supply, but that they have regular contact with somebody who can provide them with enough samples to start affecting their bodies, indicating a far liker chance that they can point them to somebody higher up the Drug ring. Shooting up once or twice like the Dumbass trio does won’t change their bodies permanently, as once they’re off the drug their tongue will likely return back to normal after a few weeks, but Black-tonged users can help paint a picture of the Trio’s real target.

Plus, just because trigger makes it easier for villains to suddenly appear, strong enough to be a serious threat to surrounding civilians, especially with stronger powers that they haven’t trained how to master naturally, it doesn’t mean that every villain that causes chaos is on trigger. Several will be just like that Snot monster from Chapter 1, just using their powers for crime without having been in contact with trigger, having mastered their abilities enough to be competent at crime without needing to rely on external help. Checking the tongues helps join the dots about who’s who in the String Theory pegboard the vigilantes will slowly build about the trigger ring’s structure and nature of operations.

9) “OH MY GOD HE REALLY IS LOOKING UP TO PUNCH THEM

Also, glad to see Koichi already accepted his fate, since he said “we”.”- Knuckleduster believes in being blunt and to the point. His opponents are a shadowy organisation that meticulously hides their identities and avoids direct confrontation? Attack them all head on! - it’s the last thing they’ll expect, and the most effective means of catching them off guard- which knuckle needs to do if he wants to stand a chance, given his own relative powerlessness. Unfortunately, Koichi has yet to learn that his master does not understand sarcasm when the subject involves punching people and the reasons why you shouldn’t.

10) “Oh my god I loved it, you can’t take him serious, even though he IS serious about this.”-The Batman effect. I’m reminded of the very serious scene in the dark knight where Gordon and hardy are having a very serious discussion on the mob situation straight out of a serious crime drama, then batman joins in without missing a beat, dressed up in his bat costume and acting like the whole situation isn’t absurd, and is a very reasonable course of events that lead to them planning to have a bat-themed vigilante hit the mob where it hurts whilst the police and the law stick to ‘official’ channels to keep their hands relatively clean.

11) “Koichi, what made you believe that the guy that jumped into a trash pile and is basically dragging you into the world of illegal crime fighting would be joking about punching the lights out of random people in the street?”- Wishful thinking. On the other hand, he might have tagged along because he was worried that without him being around to manage Knuckleduster, he’d go off and assault somebody on his own, so at least Koichi can be present to play damage control.

12) “Oh my god Koichi, it seems like you’re current the brains of this team, because there’s nothing on Knuckleduster’s skull besides PUNCH”- Actually, the actual brains of the team is Pop, being able to plan out a logical course of searching for their targets that’s got farther and more wide-reaching methods than just walking street-to-street attacking anybody who looks cock-eyed at you- she even deduces the doll-Dealer’s connection to the trigger ring through recognising him in the background of the photos she was browsing, showing high data-processing skills and memory retention , allowing her to direct the ground troops of Koichi and knuckle more efficiently. Koichi himself seems to sit somewhere when Knuckle’s Brawn and Pop’s Brains, being mainly the Heart/Face of the team for now, but that’s not to say knuckle’s only useful for attacking the forces they’re hunting. His ‘gut instincts’ did correctly identify one of the dealers in the end, even with a few false starts that hamstrung him midway through.

13) “Alright, she’s far from the violent type, the joke won’t work. She’s a tsundere at most, but I wouldn’t call her that yet, since we only saw one single interaction with her.”-

‘2 interactions later’

L: TSUNDERE ALERT! Sound the alarms!

14) “He’s willing to see if he really is capable of it, just to make sure. It doesn’t hurt to have a little fate in yourself, right?”-Good feels good. Only last night did Koichi find out he had it in himself to actually take action to help/save someone else, and if Knuckleduster has unwavering faith that Koichi has ‘got it’ whatever it may be, then perhaps Koichi owes it to himself to tag along and find out how far he can really go without all his doubts and insecurities weighing him down

15) “Please Pop☆Step, please be the brains of this operation, Koichi lacks the qualifications, I blame the alcohol.”- Koichi’s smart, but more in the ‘common sense’ understanding- which actually provides a handicap for him given how heroics require you to often do crazy stuff to help others. He’s also not as much a social butterfly as Pop, seeing as how she was able to instantly come up with the idea of using phones and social media to try and track down the target, an idea that didn’t immediately occur to a millennial like Koichi likely because he’s not had much reason to use his phone for such reasons, given the lack of friends we saw on his side in chapter 1- in fact, being a parallel to Midoira, it makes sense Koichi wouldn’t be surrounded by friends and allies until he started his own heroes journey. Each aspect of the Vigilante trio covers a different smarts spectrum- Koichi’s all for common sense and negotiation if it avoids unnecessary conflict, Pop’s all about using her brains and connections to point them in the right direction, and Knuckle’s all about using his gut instincts to make on-the-spot decisions for good and for ill, however it works out.

@thelreads

#thelreads #bnha vigilantes #vigilantes 2 #chapter replies #my hero academia

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