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meocities · 4 months

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The Lack Thereof

Mithrun/Reader - 1423 words, hurt/comfort

You're nervous. You're sad and lonely and hurting, and on top of it all, you're nervous.

Mithrun stares at you from across the bedroom. He's been doing that a lot lately — you've noticed how his eyes linger. You notice a lot more than you let on about him, but you’ve realized that he ends up knowing anyway. You can't keep anything secret from him — he'll find out that you're hiding something, at the very least, and then he'll just keep staring until you tell him.

He's doing that now. Staring. His eyes bore into your own, and when you look away for a second, glance back, look away again, he moves his staring to your hands. You're wringing your fingers in your own grasp. The edges of your cuticles are dry and picked. Your skin might have bled a few times from your nervousness, and though the blood was the only thing that could have given your anxiety away (blood that had long been cleaned), you know Mithrun sees the red-flushed divot of wounds even from the distance you're keeping.

Mithrun raises an eyebrow, and the anxiety compounds in your stomach. It burns your skin, just as much as the memories do, and you know you're strong but you think to yourself, god, I want to cry.

You're strong, and you're brave, and you've always stood up to everything that has ever been thrown at you, and you're so tired. You're so tired of the effort. You wonder if he can relate.

So you bow your head, and you know Mithrun's eyes have gone wide — as much as they can, anyway — staring at you still. He's silent, unmoving on the bed the Canaries had set him up with after the new kingdom's establishment. Of course it would be silent. Of course he would be staring. You’re the one who invaded his room in the middle of the night, after all. You know you're lucky that he doesn't care.

Yet, for now, you're still looking at the floor while the former captain of the Canaries looks at you, with your hands wringing themselves into shreds, and the hole in your stomach is eating you alive. You know he expects something of you, so you take a breath (it's shaky, and you cringe because you know your words aren't going to come out right) and deliver, ineloquently, “you don't care about most things, right?”

Mithrun's told you his story. How he became a dungeon lord — and how he lost that title in five years. How he's been recovering over time, slowly but surely, thanks to the help of Kabru and his Canaries, and the noodle shop that he lives above, and everyone who's had the smallest bit of faith in him along the way. And while Mithrun's made endless progress, you know he still has trouble desiring, sometimes.

You can't imagine asking this of anyone else.

Mithrun nods his head slowly, and you realize you've looked back up at him when his brows furrow together. “I don't,” he says.

“Can you do me a favor,” you say, expecting to stop there, but highly reluctant to even consider the thought of him rejecting you before you even get the real question out. “Can I join you?”

Mithrun looks down, gaze sweeping his bed, before turning back to you. It's a silent question, and you nod, cheeks aflame. Are your legs shaking? You feel unsteady. You aren't sure if you're breathing right — feels too shallow, as if you're afraid to even make a sound. Your hands, still fidgeting with your fingers, twist a joint in such a way that your knuckle cracks, and you wince at the sound interrupting the silence. Mithrun remains quiet, and you think that you might never have taken a deep breath in your life.

He breaks this silence a moment after. “Why are you asking this of me?”

There's lots of things you can say to this — lots of things that go through your head in response. It feels delicate to dissect, yet heavy. Emotion and cognition flit through your brain, and you think about analyzing yourself in your typical pattern of being self-aware, but it feels like too much. There's no good straw to grasp onto, but the one thing that comes to your mind is that, despite not knowing him for long, there's something about him that makes you feel as if he's the only person in the world you can go to.

I don't know wouldn't suffice as an answer. Moreover, you would feel bad about not communicating to the best of your ability. To him, you say, “I trust you,” and you don't think about how his distance is the most familiar thing you've known.

He doesn't seem convinced, but he shrugs and lifts his head to lay on the side of the pillow — moving to make room for you. Your heart thuds hard in your chest, and you're both terrified and not. You wipe your sweaty palms on the surface of your clothes, because you don't want to put that on Mithrun, not at all — there's no need for him to see that you're any more nervous than he already knows you are. While your hands are wiped off, you approach the bed, lifting your leg so you can slide over the top, knees bent as you sit by his waist. You're so close that your knees are touching the right side of his waist. The bed wasn't very big to begin with, and by the way Mithrun moves his arm out to make room for you to lay down, you know he's aware of the proximity.

Which, this action makes your chest ache. He wasn’t supposed to be caring — he wasn't supposed to make this easy. You're tempted to pull back for a moment before Mithrun raises his eyebrow at your hesitation, and you bite your tongue even as your eyes begin to moisten. You won't cry, you know this for sure — you refuse to be weak in front of someone as strong as him, and even though his eyes narrow at all the things you won't say, you give up part of the act and lay your head down on his chest, nosing your face into his neck. Your left hand comes to rest on his stomach so that you're curled into him, and you can already feel the moisture from your breath condensing on the skin of his neck. You won't cry, you remind yourself. You won't cry, and if some tears do drop on Mithrun's shoulder beneath your face then it was an accident. You didn't mean to.

Slowly, his arm comes around to cradle you into his side. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail down your spine to pull you closer, stroking along the bone of your back. You can feel yourself shaking, frozen in place — you don't want to move, but something like this is so unfamiliar. You never would have expected this from him, of all people — wasn't the point of seeking this out from him because he wouldn't be overwhelming? Wasn't the point of this to have an image of being loved?

Yet, with Mithrun’s fingers at the slope of your back, the image you had is colored and crisp. Even if he's pretending, it almost feels like he actually cares about you.

He can feel that you're shaking now — there's no doubt about it. Your breathing rattles through your chest as your fingers grip the fabric on his stomach, and you feel his abdominal muscles clench for a moment before he forces them to relax. He shifts his face above you and you feel lips on your forehead — he pressed a kiss to your skin, you realize, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. You're warm, you're burning up, and all you can do is sling your arm across his ribs, tuck a leg between his, and bury your face so far into Mithrun's neck that you don't know where you end and he begins anymore.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this — nothing this nice. You're still shaking, but you're held tightly. Why did he desire to hold you?

You vocalize this sentiment. “Why are you doing this?” You ask, and your voice is quiet. Devastated. Unsure.

Mithrun doesn't look at you. He doesn't even shift his position. Just hums a short noise in the hollow of his throat — something you feel the vibrations of tickling your nose — and says, “I trust you, too.”

#mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #mithrun #meo writings

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months

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He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing.

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap.

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle.

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves.

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment.

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV.

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.”

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest.

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee.

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer.

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie.

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds.

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within.

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.”

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark.

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people.

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by.

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion.

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground.

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed.

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#russell shaw #Russell Shaw x reader #russell shaw fanfiction #Tracker Fanfiction #Tracker #Russell Shaw x you #Russell Shaw Series

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girl-named-matty · 1 year

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Why I don't like Solomon Sallow

(I worked this out on a google docs first and that has some screenshots i couldn't fit into here so after this post imma post some screenshots of the document) SO HI EVERYONE! You'll probably remember what I posted yesterday about dissecting the scene where you first go to Feldcroft in order to find out just a few things about Solomon upfront, so here it is! Buckle up because it is a lot.

Why I dislike Solomon Sallow, by me. 💕 Based on the scene where you first arrive in Feldcroft to visit Anne with Sebastian.

So I’ve just finished writing this scene for my fanfiction and going over the dialogue so carefully has made me realize just how much from this scene only we can see why Solomon was just a horrible person in general–if it wasn’t already obvious by now. I’ve been wanting to dissect scenes from the game for quite a while now and I think this presents a perfect opportunity to do it!

First, we’re going to start out when MC first arrives in Feldcroft and Sebastian is standing up on a ‘watch-tower’ to keep an eye on things since Feldcroft hasn’t been safe with all the goblins around. And then he states this:

Now, the goblins being around Rookwood castle isn’t Solomon’s fault. But being a resident of Feldcroft and being an ex-Auror, one would assume that he’d at least check it out, correct? Nope. Because Sebastian goes on to say this as well:

Now at the time, everyone thinks that Anne has been cursed by Goblins and not Rookwood, even Solomon does. But even with Solomon thinking the goblins had cursed Anne, he refuses to confront them even though we know he could since two fifteen-year-olds (Sebastian and MC) could easily defend themselves against said goblins.

And this leads us into our second segment.

We are now at the Sallow residence in Feldcroft and Sebastian walks in first, going to surprise Anne. Everything is happy and Anne is extremely excited to see Sebastian as shown in this picture:

Sebastian then pulls out a Shrivelfig, something he picked up in Hogsmeade for Anne.

Now from that screenshot alone, we can’t really tell if Anne just really likes shrivelfigs or if she thought it could be the cure–but from what happens next I can safely assume she may have thought it was some form of cure.

Because as shown right here–SOLOMON JUST YOINKS IT OUT OF SEBASTIAN’S HAND.

Solomon doesn’t give Anne and Sebastian even a moment to have a proper reunion, he doesn’t say hello to Sebastian, or greet MC, he doesn’t wait until MC is out of the house to have a conversation with Sebastian like a civil person would if a guest were around. In fact, he doesn’t do anything civilly, he starts an argument with Sebastian RIGHT there and then over a shrivelfig!

He looks at Sebastian and tells him that Shrivelfigs cannot reverse the curse. But we have no background to if they’ve ever even tried to do something with a shrivelfig to even help ease Anne’s pain. Since Hogwarts Legacy came out, the wiki for shrivelfigs has stated that they cannot reverse curses but it does have “medicinal properties' which could’ve at least perhaps eased Anne’s pain for even just a bit.

But what is even worse is that when he says “Nothing can” he looks DIRECTLY AT ANNE!

Why would he look directly at Anne while saying nothing can reverse the curse she has? Probably because he wants her to believe that she cannot be cured. He’s tired of trying to find one and so if Anne isn’t complaining about not having a cure, he doesn’t have to hear about it from anyone other than Sebastian. I’ve had conversations with friends about this and have a few theories about this situation but that’s for a different post. Then Solomon proceeds to destroy the Shrivelfig right in front of Sebastian and Anne.

Now, this is possibly a bit of a stretch but Sebastian got that for Anne and not Solomon so he’s basically just destroying a gift that Sebastian took the time to get for her right in front of the both of them which is a pretty crappy move in my opinion.

Then he turns to leave, yet again not even taking the time to say hello to Sebastian or MC and of course Sebastian, feeling like he needs to defend himself, says that they haven’t tried everything–which is technically correct. But then of course, instead of Solomon civilly telling Sebastian that there is no cure–It turns into another shouting match.

He gets up in Sebastian’s face and shouts at him, right in front of Anne and MC. Wow Solomon! I wonder why your nephew hates you.

Yes I understand that Sebastian is a stubborn boy but at this point in time, he’s a fifteen-year-old boy who is desperate to cure his twin sister! Before this, all he had was Anne and Ominis because his parents were dead and his uncle truly never cared. Let’s say MC had never come into the mix and Anne died, all he would have was Ominis. This is an act of Sebastian trying to preserve the last of the people who love him.

And then, unfortunately, the effects of the curse start to pain Anne.

The first thing they do is look over but instead of Solomon immediately going to Anne’s aid, he has to look at Sebastian and blame him for Anne’s pain.

Then he goes over to Anne to aid her and Sebastian tries to apologize for the argument that Solomon started.

Then instead of letting Sebastian apologize, Solomon tells Sebastian to leave.

He doesn’t even give Sebastian a chance. He’s fed up and doesn’t even want his nephew around. My whole guess is that he’s truly never wanted Sebastian around and this was all just an excuse. This leads us into our third segment. Sebastian storms out of the house and tells MC that he needs a moment alone if they are alright with it. Then MC will go talk to Solomon and Anne and for this, we’re going to speak to Solomon first. You go up and you greet Solomon, everything seems normal. Solomon apologizes for Sebastian’s behavior claiming “he doesn’t know when to stop” which is true in some cases.

When he says this, this is not a fact, and we have to keep that in mind. When he says nothing can be done for her–that’s his opinion because HE doesn’t think anything can be done for her. Which opinions are okay to have, but using your opinions to discourage others is usually not the way you want to use them.

Now after this, MC can say two different things. If you pick the option “Surely there’s something” your MC will say “It could be that you’ve not yet discovered a cure.” so in turn, slightly disagreeing with Solomon’s statement that nothing can be done but not downright disagreeing with him out loud.

But again, instead of Solomon holding a civil conversation, he starts to accuse MC of thinking they know more than the healers at St. Mungo's.

Now did MC ever claim to know better than the trained healers? NO! So why is he assuming this? It’s because he’s incapable of having a civil conversation regarding the curse if anyone disagrees with him in the slightest. We see this several more times throughout the game!

After this, your MC will say “Perhaps the healers don't know everything, sir.” which is in turn–correct because as skilled as they are, no one knows everything. And keep in mind that MC is calling Solomon “sir” being respectful while Solomon is not, he is shouting and spouting off. MC then follows up with “Sebastian is single-mindedly focused on finding a way to help his sister. If there is a cure, he will find it.” Then Solomon responds with this.

Yet again going back to the fact that he could easily confront the goblins but he never does. You have a dialogue choice here but both of them really just lead back to this statement.

He claims giving Anne hope is cruel because he doesn’t want her to have hope that she can be cured but in my opinion—not giving her hope is just as cruel! Imagine telling your niece, the child you are supposed to be raising, that there is nothing that could possibly cure her and so she is stuck feeling immense pain for the rest of her possibly short life even when there are still chances of finding a cure! I’m not sure about anyone else, but that sounds pretty cruel to me. I can see why you’d want to keep her comfortable but its still keeping her comfortable for her impending death when there’s still a chance she can be cured.

Then, as if he’s been acting like a good guardian, Solomon plays this card.

He says he knows what's best for both of the twins–which is clearly not true seeing how he treats Sebastian. Then he goes to say “my stubborn brother’s children” which always makes me think that Solomon had something against his brother–a rivalry possibly–that led them into fighting a lot and so Solomon takes his anger for his late brother out onto his brother's children. Which, keep in mind, is never okay.

Sebastian is a target of Solomon’s constant attacks because Sebastian acts like his dad. And that’s just the nature of a young boy to act like their father. Also, to Solomon, are you sure your brother was the stubborn one here…?

Solomon follows up with this and then this.

THIS ^^ is probably the only sensible thing he says during the entire game. Yes, Sebastian doesn’t know when to stop sometimes but I wonder why he doesn’t stop. It’s because he’s constantly being verbally attacked and Anne is the LAST bit of family he has that actually loves him! Of course he isn’t going to stop–he’s trying to save the life of his twin sister!

Our fourth segment leads us into our conversation with Anne–which gives us more perspective since we get all three perspectives of the Sallows who were involved in this.

MC enters the house and apologizes for earlier and Anne–being the sweet girl she is, reassures MC that it is not their fault for the pain she has.

It’s clear she’s struggling but she always makes sure to make it clear that it is not anyone’s fault when her pain comes and goes. Meaning Solomon was wrong by blaming Sebastian for Anne’s pain during the argument.

MC and Anne go on to talk about Anne being at Hogwarts and how she misses it but she says she wouldn’t mind being in Feldcroft all the time if it weren’t so dreary. That meaning, the goblin attacks and of course, her uncle and brother fighting all the time.

She says this but the way she words it makes me think a few things. She mentions that Solomon is fighting with Sebastian whenever he’s home. Which this could be a stretch but that makes me believe that Solomon starts the majority of the arguments that they are in. As seen earlier, Solomon started this one as well instead of letting the scene play out before he jumped in. Not only does Solomon starting arguments affect Sebastian, it affects Anne too!

MC will then say “Sebastian mentioned something about your uncle being an ex-Auror but refusing to go after Ranrok’s Loyalists'' and while I’m not an uncle, I am an aunt and if someone cursed my niece especially while she was in my care–I’d be burning down the goblin encampment while demanding answers. Then MC says “I must say, I wasn’t prepared for him to be as angry as he was''

Then Anne goes to defend her uncle, which is understandable.

BUUUUUT then we get into Anne now thinking she cannot be cured, saying that she can feel it.

Now I am not about to argue with the victim of the curse for saying she doesn’t think she can be cured–after all, she is the one suffering. But from what we saw with Solomon looking directly at Anne while saying “nothing can” referring to nothing can cure her, how much of her disbelief about her being able to be cured is actually coming from Solomon that she has just accepted and isn’t actually her own belief?

After that, you finish up your conversation with Anne and go to find Sebastian which leads us into our fifth and final segment.

Now, Sebastian does the same thing Solomon does and apologizes to MC for the way he acted–which means they are sort of the two sides to the same coin when it comes to how others perceive them. Both feel like they need to apologize for something that the other has done–even when only one of them is actually in the wrong. You have two options for dialogue here. You can either choose “He was out of line” which will lead you into saying “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting him to be so angry.” or you can chose “He’s trying to do what’s right” which I honestly have no idea what that option will lead you to say because I’ve never chosen it and I went through nine different playthroughs I found on YouTube and nobody chose that option so I assume people agree that he was out of line. (If anyone could tell me what MC says if you chose the option “He’s trying to do what’s right”, that’d be lovely)

SO if you chose “He was out of line” which leads to you saying the part that you weren’t expecting him to be so angry, Sebastian will reply "He's always angry. He's been angry since my parents died." and "After Anne was hurt, he only grew worse. It's as though he blames me somehow. Always calling me 'my father's son' as if its an insult." (I apologize for the lack of screenshots here, I wrote this out on a google docs sheet before this and tumblr only allows me to have 30 pictures in post so screenshots of the doc are coming soon!) This brings us back to what I said earlier about Solomon deflecting his angry feelings from his late brother onto the twins and he most likely targets Sebastian the most because Sebastian acts the most like his father. Sebastian will go on to say “I’m the one trying to help her. He’s simply given up.” to which MC will reply, “Both Anne and your uncle seem to be genuinely convinced that nothing more can be done for her.”

To that, Sebastian replies that he refuses to believe that, that Anne’s pain is more than physical, that it’s changed her entirely, and that he misses her and is going to get his sister back.

After that you’ll go and explore the plateau that Anne was cursed on yada yada and you’ll get a bit of background on that.

So–what's the conclusion of all of this?

Solomon is just a horrible person.

He immediately starts an argument with Sebastian in front of Anne and MC over a shrivelfig, no less. And I don’t know about you but it's always so awkward when a friend gets yelled at by their parents/guardian and it's pretty embarrassing when it happens to you and you're the one being shouted at.

He’s either subconsciously or consciously trying to convince Anne that she cannot be cured by telling her “Nothing can” and by always screaming at Sebastian that nothing can cure her. When he shouts, it's scary, so obviously Anne isn’t going to want to speak up for herself and get screamed at.

He verbally abuses Sebastian–and probably Anne in the past as well. Now I’ve seen theories that there is possible physical abuse which I have also had theories about but it’s never been proven so I’m not gonna accuse him of such a crime BUT there is obvious evidence that he has no problem verbally abusing Sebastian at all by screaming, shouting and yada yada.

He’s taking his anger that he has for his late brother out on Sebastian and Anne, which is never okay. Children are never responsible for the sins of the father–and we don’t even know if their father did do anything wrong! From how Solomon acts, he could’ve totally been in the wrong for whatever arguments they had. And Sebastian is a target because he acts the most like his father.

And although this isn’t in this scene, Solomon has no problem attacking two 15/16-year-olds (who are still legally children) in the catacomb. So the conclusion is that Solomon Sallow is not a good person and he has no problem showing it. And that you can see so much just from this one scene that probably lasts only a few minutes.

I rest my case.

Taglist: @boomingsmile @biographyofanadult @kit-kair @operation-pez @morelikeravenbore @findingtruenorth23 @follesexual @epicsweetness712 @mcyt-trash-can @sallowgauntsupremacy @kukukha-sanctuary

#told y'all it was long #and I have more to say abt this guy too lol #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hl #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #mc #Anne Sallow #Solomon sallow #Hogwarts legacy theories #Hogwarts Legacy theory #Solomon Sallow slander club #Im sorry char but it had to be done #if anyone has anything to say please voice it in the comments!#I love hearing feedback!

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gminervous · 1 month

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A day in the life with BPD..

I wake up and my mind is already racing, jumping from one thought to another before I even have a chance to fully open my eyes. It’s like someone’s turned the volume all the way up, and I’m stuck in the middle of a chaotic storm. The mirror reflects a face I recognize, but the person behind it feels like a stranger. Some days I can’t quite figure out who I am or what I’m feeling. Today is one of those days.

As I start my day, I’m hyper-aware of the people around me. There’s a deep craving for connection, a need to feel close to someone, anyone, who can anchor me in the midst of this internal storm. But that desire for closeness is tangled up with fear—fear that if I get too close, they’ll see the mess inside me and pull away. It’s a constant push and pull, wanting to be loved and fearing that love will disappear the moment I let my guard down.

I try to navigate these relationships, but it feels like walking through a minefield. One minute, I’m overflowing with affection, desperate to be near the people I care about. The next, I’m consumed by doubt, questioning whether they really care about me at all. Did they mean that compliment? Or were they just being polite? I replay conversations in my head, dissecting every word, looking for signs that I’m about to be abandoned. It’s exhausting, this constant questioning, but I can’t seem to stop.

Then there’s the anger. It’s like a storm that brews inside me, often triggered by something small—a comment that didn’t sit right, a slight that might not have even been intentional. But once it’s there, it’s hard to control. The anger spills over, and I lash out, sometimes without even realizing what I’m doing until it’s too late. And then comes the guilt. It hits me like a ton of bricks, leaving me feeling ashamed and hollow. I can see the hurt in their eyes, and it crushes me, because deep down, I didn’t mean to cause it. But the damage is done, and I’m left picking up the pieces.

Throughout the day, my emotions continue to swing wildly. Joy can turn into despair in a heartbeat. A small success might make me feel on top of the world, but a minor setback can send me spiraling into a pit of self-doubt and hopelessness. There’s no middle ground, no safe space where I can just be. It’s always extremes, always a battle between feeling too much and feeling nothing at all.

By the time evening rolls around, I’m completely drained. My body is tired, but my mind refuses to rest. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to quiet the thoughts that won’t stop swirling. The day’s events replay in my head, every mistake amplified, every moment of doubt echoing in the silence. I long for peace, for a moment where my mind can just be still, but it rarely comes. When sleep finally takes over, it’s restless, filled with dreams that mirror the chaos of my waking life.

I know that tomorrow will be much the same. The cycle will start again—waking up to a mind already in overdrive, navigating the complexities of emotions that never seem to settle, and trying to hold on to a sense of self that feels elusive at best. Some days I manage better than others. But every day is a fight to keep going, to find a way to live with this constant turmoil that BPD brings. It’s not an easy life, but it’s the only one I know, and somehow, I keep pushing forward.

#actually bpd #bpd feels #bpd thoughts #bpd problems #bpd #bpd vent #bpd safe #borderline problems #borderline blog #borderline personality traits #borderline personality disorder #actually borderline #borderline personality problems

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1-imaginary-girl · 11 months

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A Mischievous Love Story - Part 8

Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader (platonic)

Summary: The reader and Loki were madly in love until you found out that he died. Deciding to follow Thor on his adventures, you soon find out the truth about what happened to your boyfriend. This series is a re-telling of Thor: Ragnarök with the reader inserted into the story. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Descriptive violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

I've finally returned to this series and yes it was because of season 2 of Loki and yes I'm still completely wrecked over it. There isn't much interaction between Loki and the reader this part, apologies for that, but after this it will be mainly just them as I stray from the plot of the movie to focus on their romance!

She’s my wife. The words echo in your mind over and over again as you stare at Loki. You heard him say those words, you know you did, and yet there’s no way that could have happened. There’s no way that he just called you his wife. Right?

Your mouth is hanging open and you want to close it or say something but you're in shock. Loki shoots a glance your way and grimaces. There’s no way.

“Your wife?” the Grandmaster asks, equally as confused as you. For some reason, you also hear disappointment in his voice. But you don’t have time to dissect that. The Grandmaster looks at you and then down at your hand. The jig is up, you think. “I never noticed that.”

Wait what? You look down at your left hand and again appear utterly shocked. There, on your ring finger, sits a wedding ring. It’s absolutely gorgeous. A gold band with emerald leaves wrapping around it. For a moment, it all feels real. The ring is perfect and you're married to the man you love. But reality settles in all too quickly.

The ring has been conjured up by Loki’s magic. You look at his hand and see a matching band. You remember that you're not married to the man you love. You're pretending to be married to a man who broke your heart. And the pieces plummet into your stomach, sinking like stone.

You want to glare at Loki but the Grandmaster is still looking your way. If you don’t play along, he’ll probably punish Loki for trying to lie to him. So you send a smile his way and nod. You can’t get yourself to speak.

“Please, let her go. She can stay here with me. I promise she’ll fit right in,” Loki says, using his most persuasive tone of voice. The Grandmaster seems to consider it.

“Alright,” he says. You toss aside your anger for now and rejoice in the fact that you don’t have to fight anyone. Although you will not be thanking Loki for getting you out. Not like this. “If your wife prevails in her fight, she will be free to accompany you in your place among the higher-ups.”

“Wait what?” Loki says and you slump a little in defeat. But you don’t let it keep you down. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free to enjoy a luxurious vacation until you can find a way to escape this planet.

“It’s a deal,” you say, looking at the Grandmaster. He smiles as if you've just sealed your fate. But you're used to people underestimating you and you've come to enjoy it. It only makes it that much more satisfying when you win.

“Wait, can’t we just—” Loki tries to say something but the Grandmaster’s mind is set. He extends a hand towards one of your restrained hands. You shake it to the best of your abilities despite your hand being tied down.

“I look forward to seeing how this plays out,” he says with a giddy smile on his face.

“As do I,” you say.

“Y/N—”

“See you on the battlefield,” the Grandmaster says before he hits a button on some remote and your chair is moving. You're caught off guard but determined not to show any fear. Instead, you'll focus on anger.

"Y/N!" Loki calls after you again but the wheels have already been set in motion. There’s no going back.

†††

Your surroundings pass by you in a blur, and you find it hard to focus on anything you pass. You allow the chair to take you where it’s programmed to go without resistance. Next thing you know, you're being hauled into a circular, white room and you land roughly on the ground, snapping you from your thoughts. You turn just in time to see the big cell door being slammed shut. You contemplate taking your anger out on the door, but you feel so drained of energy that you just let your head fall back with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” You hear a voice say, causing you to jump as you hadn’t taken note of anyone else in here. You push yourself onto your elbows and turn your head. “Over here! Big pile of rocks waving at you.”

As the voice said, you see an alien made of rocks casually sitting against the cell wall with his hand raised to wave. You've seen aliens like him, but not this species specifically. Beside him is another alien with purple skin that reminds you of an insect, with four black beady eyes and mandibles for a mouth. The creature is also in a full suit of armour with two blades where its arms should be.

“Yeah, I’m actually a thing, I’m a being,” the rock alien says. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Korg. I’m kind of like the leader in here. I’m made of rocks, as you can see, but don’t let that intimidate you. You don’t need to be afraid unless you’re made of scissors.” The alien, Korg, giggles to himself as he and the other alien stand up. “Just a little rock-paper-scissors joke for you. This is my very good friend over here, Miek. He’s an insect and has knives for hands.”

Miek moves his arm/blades around in what looks like a karate move, but you think it’s meant to be a gesture for hello. That was a hell of an introduction, you think to yourself. As this isn’t the strangest interaction you've had today, you slowly stand up to properly greet them.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, which feels awkward but they seem to respond well to it. “My name is Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Korg says and Miek does another karate-like gesture. Your brain is pounding from your previous conversation but you figure you should be polite. Especially if you are going to be stuck in here for who knows how long with them.

“So,” you say, wondering what to ask. “What are you guys in for?”

“Well I tried to start a revolution but didn’t print enough pamphlets, so hardly anyone turned up,” Korg says. “Except for my mum and her boyfriend, who I hate. As punishment, I was forced to be in here and become a gladiator. Bit of a promotional disaster.” Then he leans in and starts to whisper. “Actually, I’m trying to organize another revolution right now. It’s a bit underdeveloped at the moment, but don’t let that deter you. Do you reckon you’d be interested in something like that?”

“No, actually I’m a bit busy at the moment.” You look past Korg and down the hall of this weird prison. If you can find an exit, maybe you can escape before the fight. From there, you can try to commandeer a ship and go back to Asgard. Simple. A quick breath, and you take off running down the circle. You're only running for a few seconds before Korg reappears in front of you.

You widen your eyes and look back before facing the alien again. “Did you—”

“Ah, yeah, no, this whole thing is a circle. But not a real circle, more like a freaky circle,” he says, and you just scrunch your face, trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. When’s the last time you've had a proper rest? You know, without being knocked out. Feels like a lifetime ago. “It doesn’t make much sense, but nothing around here makes sense. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

You slump down against the wall as Korg talks. “So, I’m really stuck in here?”

“I’m afraid so. But it isn’t all bad. Miek and I have made up a few games to pass the time. For example, there’s this one called—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think I’m up for any games at the moment.” You sigh and let your head hit the wall. “It’s been a long day.”

Korg gives you a sympathetic look before nodding. “I get that. Feel free to have a rest, Miek and I will look over you if you’d like,” he says. Despite everything that’s happened, you smile at them.

“Thank you.” Korg gives a nod while Miek does another expression you can’t quite figure out. With that, you settle against the wall. It’s not the most comfortable, but you've slept in worse. You sigh and sleep quickly takes over.

You're not sure how long you've slept for, but you're abruptly woken up by the sounds of shouting.

“Stay away from her, you freaky ghost!” you hear Korg yell. Groggily, you pull your eyes open to see Miek in a fighting stance and Korg throwing fallen bits of himself at—

“I just need to talk to her, I’m not going to hurt her!” Loki says. He’s standing a few feet away from you. You're confused as you watch Korg’s rocks pass through him before you fully wake up and understand it’s an illusion. Part of you is hurt, another isn’t so surprised anymore. Another one of his tricks.

“Like I’m going to trust the word of a freakin’ ghost!” Korg yells back. You realize that they really did watch over you as you slept, which makes you smile. As much as you love seeing Korg try to hit Loki with rocks, the two of you need to talk.

“It’s okay guys,” you speak up, clearing your throat. They all turn to look at you and Loki looks relieved. “I know him.”

Korg looks him over and Miek doesn’t stand down until Korg gives the go ahead. “You’re safe for now ghost,” Korg says threateningly. Korg looks at you once again and when you nod your head to say that you're okay, him and Miek walk a little way down the circle to give you two privacy.

“Making new friends already?” Loki jokes, trying to lighten the mood. You don’t respond. Instead, you look down at the ring still on your finger. Loki sighs. “I understand you’re upset—” You glare at him and he sighs again. “Look I’m sorry, but it was the only thing I could think of to protect you!”

You bristle at that. “So tell him that I’m your friend or a cousin, not your freaking wife!” you say. You don’t have the energy to yell at him right now.

“You don’t understand, the Grandmaster…he’s very particular about who he allows up there. It wouldn’t have been enough,” he says calmly. You shake your head.

“Then maybe you should have just let me compete normally,” you say, your anger growing the longer he’s here. “I could have made a deal to get out of here not prolong my stay.”

“Annabel, you haven’t seen the competitions,” he insists, stepping closer. “I have. They’re brutal, and I haven’t even seen his beloved Champion.”

“I told you, I can handle myself,” you spit out.

“Maybe, but I can’t just stand by and watch you get hurt.” Those words cracked something in you. You snap your eyes up to meet his and from the fury in them, he knows he said the wrong thing.

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? You don’t think this hurts?!” You stand up and shove the ring in his face. “You don’t think having to pretend to be your wife after you broke my heart is going to hurt me?” He looks down in shame, pain on his face. Good. “I’d rather face his Champion right now then have to endure that kind of pain.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“You keep apologizing but nothing changes with you! You keep making selfish moves and tricking people—”

“Hey, that was not selfish.” He defends himself but you don’t want to hear it.

“You tricked me, Loki. Again,” you say with tears in your eyes. His sudden defensiveness is crushed. “You tricked me into pretending to be your wife. Do you know how messed up that is?”

“Love—”

“Do not call me that!” you yell, getting into his face. You try to poke him in his chest but your finger passes right through him. You laugh humorlessly as a tear slips down your cheek. “God, you’re using a trick right now!” He looks hurt. “You couldn’t even come to see me yourself, you had to hide behind an illusion.”

“This place isn’t easy to get into,” he argues quietly, but you shake your head.

“I can’t fight with you again right now.” You turn away, moving back to the wall. This move seems to hurt him more. You slide down back to where you were. “Just go back to whatever party I’m sure the Grandmaster is hosting.”

“Y/N, please, let’s talk about this—” he begs, coming closer but you don’t move a muscle.

“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” you say, defeated. His eyebrows draw close together and if you didn’t know better, you’d say his eyes are welling.

“Please,” he whispers, and if he were really here, maybe you would have sought comfort from him. Maybe you would’ve kept talking. But he’s not.

“Go,” you say, keeping your eyes trained to the floor.

After a moment of hesitation, where it seemed like he wanted to reach out, but he couldn’t, he drew back. He takes a step backward. “Just…” He seems at a loss for words. “Please be careful.” When you don’t respond, his image shimmers and disappears. You put your head between youry legs and let a few more tears fall.

†††

You soon find yourself escorted into some sort of training rooms. Species of all kinds can be seen preparing for a fight. For the first time, you really start second-guessing your decision to fight. But you won’t give up, not yet.

The training area is next to the stadium and you can hear the distance sounds of cheering which makes you cringe. How could people actually watch this and enjoy it? You're running your fingers along the weapons, trying to decide which would suit you best, when you glance over at the divide in the area. On the other side of a wall of lasers is a bar of sorts. It looks rough, not the kind of bar you would want to find yourself in. But then your eyes widen.

Drinking at the counter, is the woman who got you thrown into this hellscape. Your blood boils as you try to find Korg. When you do, you point towards her and say, “Korg, that’s the woman who put me in here! Who the hell is she?”

“Ah, that’s scrapper 142,” he says, recognizing her. Interesting that she doesn’t seem to have a real name. “She’s a toughie, put the best of the best in here. Those Asgardians, man.”

Your burning gaze at the scrapper snaps back to Korg. “Wait, she’s Asgardian?” you ask.

“Yup,” he says. This changes everything. If you can talk to her, you can tell her what’s happening at Asgard and she can help you escape. And you won’t need to be anybody’s fake wife.

You hurriedly make your way over to the laser wall. “Hey! Hey, you!” you yell at her, not the most polite way to start the conversation but she did toss me to the wolves, possibly literally. She cocks her head and notices you. She smirks.

“If it isn’t the interesting human,” she says while taking a sip from her burning beer. You flinch. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got.”

“I need to talk to you,” you say, ignoring her statement. You won’t let her rattle you up again, not when you need her help. She looks at yo, waiting. “You’re Asgardian, right?”

She doesn’t reply but rather scoffs and goes in for another swig. As she does, you see an interesting tattoo on her left arm. You squint at it, and although you don’t remember what it means, you recognize it as an Asgardian symbol. Perfect, proof. “Okay, well, I’ve just come from there,” you say, and she looks at you in confusion. “I’m best friends with the prince, Thor Odinson? God of thunder?” You don’t mention Loki for obvious reasons.

“Good for you. Tell his Majesty I say hi if you ever see him again,” she says, walking away. Your eyes widen.

“No wait! That’s not the point,” you say, following her as she walks. She sighs and waits for you to continue. “Asgard is in danger. I need your help to escape this place and return to help or else the whole realm is doomed.”

“Pass,” she says, not looking at you. Your eyes blow open.

“Wait what?”

“Y/N the human, you’re up!” you hear someone yell from across the room. You sigh. Of course that’s the name they’ve given you.

“Good luck!” she says, as two guards come to take you. You're desperate, trying to convince her and stall your fight.

“A lot of people are going to die, and you’re just okay with that? Your own people?” you say enraged. “Then you’re a traitor to the crown and a coward.”

This catches her attention and it seems you've hit a sore spot. “First of all, my people are with Sakaar now,” she seethes. “And second, I’ve given enough to the crown. It’s no longer my problem.”

Two guards grasp you by your arms as you contemplate her words. Yo struggle against them out of frustration, but you don’t forget the chip in your neck. “Good luck,” the ex-Asgardian says as you're dragged away from her.

You're taken into a room and sat in another chair with handcuffs. “You guys sure do love locking people up,” you say to no one in particular. The workers don’t even give you a second glance. You're taken through a series of experiments in which they change your look completely. Considering you've been stuck in your regular earthly clothes for quite a while now, you welcome the change.

First, they do your hair. A really old man comes in with an intricate device that you feared would ruin your hair completely. But all he did was tie it into an intricate braid and made a crown on your head.

Next, they painted your face, and you didn’t feel like much of a fighter as they applied blush and lipstick. You couldn’t help but wonder who that is for. They paint three lines of purple down the middle of your face and you try to ask what it means but no one gives you an answer.

To finish off your debut look, they fit you into proper fighter attire. A chest plate the same colour as the lines on your place is fitted with blue, metal shoulder pads. The pants are black with blue knees pads to match the shoulders. The boots are black and so is your utility belt. The finishing touch, however, is the purple cape that they pin to your left shoulder and your waist.

They hand you a helmet that you're to put on after your entrance. You roll your eyes at the dramatics, although you do admire the helmet. It’s gold and with a wing on each side flowing upwards. There are also two pieces that move down to protect the sides of your face.

You are given the weapons you have chosen: a strong but simple sword and a powerful and small shield. You're hoping you can rely on your powers, but if all else fails, you have two daggers strapped to your sides so you can go down swinging. But as you walk towards the arena, you can feel the water around you: the pipes in the building, the drinks from the crowd…you can even use human or alien liquid if you have to.

You're told to stand in front of the gate until it opens and then you're left alone. You can hear the crowds much clearer from where you are now and they sound bloodthirsty. You grit your teeth as you listen to the Grandmaster go on and on about the battles, celebrating the deaths of contestants before you which makes your stomach turn. But it also fuels your energy: you will not be one of those names. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free from this madness…and thrust into another sort of madness.

You’ve fought plenty of aliens before with Thor but never in an arena in front of a crowd. A part of you is excited by this opportunity, a chance to feel what it was like to be a gladiator back on Earth. You hold onto that as you hear the Grandmaster announce you.

“Tonight, we are pleased to have a new contestant,” he says and the crowd goes wild. You bounce on the balls of your feet and focus on your breathing. “I can guarantee you’ve never seen anything like her. You’re in for quite a treat.” You swallow as the gates slowly start to rise but you set your features to stone. You’ve got this. “We’ll see what you think. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen I give you…” You walk onto the sands of the arena. “Y/N the Human!”

As you enter the arena, a wave of boos greets you. You assume they don’t like newcomers here, especially not of the human variety. And although the sound floods your senses and threatens your confidence, you set your eyes across the plain to the other gate. The crowd doesn’t matter. You need to see who you're facing.

The Grandmaster is projected on a hologram overlooking the entire stadium. That makes sense for a man with his ego. But as you scan the crowds, your eyes catch on one box in particular. It stands out from the crowd and you can’t see in it but you do see the colour yellow painting the inside. Without a doubt, you know it’s the Grandmaster’s box. And without a doubt, you know Loki’s in there. It’s like you can feel him. You wonder what he’s thinking as you stand transformed in a giant arena. You wonder if he doubts your skills, despite his words. A new type of anger sparks at that thought and you set your gaze straight ahead. This is a chance for you to show him how you've grown without him.

“Isn’t she something?” the Grandmaster laughs as the crowd continues to boo you. You let the taunts roll past you, harbouring your energy. “Alright, now it’s time to welcome back a previous competitor.” A rumble rolls through the crowd as the boos quiet down. “She’s a warrior who has made quite the name for herself.” Red puffs of smoke burst over the audience and you place the helmet over your head and secure it. “What she lacks in looks she makes up for in brute strength.”

Across the arena, the other door begin to open. “You love her, I love her…” the Grandmaster builds the tension and you tighten the grip on your sword. “Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for…Hindaa the Ruiner!”

The doors open to reveal a tall alien woman, donned in red armour. The crowd goes wild, and you try not to let it sway you as you try to size up your opponent. It’s hard to see from where you are, but she looks to have gray skin with a dark-haired ponytail. She waves her arms for the crowd, holding a mace in one hand and a club in the other. So much for your gladiator’s battle.

You wait for her to approach you, grabbing hold of the water beneath the arena with your powers. Your eyes are laser-focused on Hindaa. The woman finishes showing off to the crowd and immediately starts racing towards you. That’s when you truly see how big and muscular she is, standing at least six and a half feet tall.

You don’t move. You drown out the noises from the stands and wait until she hits the center of the arena. When she does, you tighten your hold on the water and summon it forth, bursting through the floors of the arena at a speed that catches Hindaa in its waves and throws her into the air. You watch as she’s tossed back to the other side and lands heavily, a cloud of dust spreading around her.

The crowd is silent as you let the water wash onto the arena floor, wetting the sands. Then all at once, an eruption of applause and cheers emerge from the crowd. But your focus isn’t to entertain them. You move across the arena as Hindaa picks herself up off the ground, staggering to her feet and dripping wet. The closer you get to her, the angrier you can see she is. You smile and then see her launching towards you.

She runs and jumps to tackle you, but you take hold of the water again and quickly freeze it, entrapping Hindaa in an iceberg. She struggles and growls as her head remains unfrozen. You walk until you stand a few feet away from her.

“Hindaa was it?” you ask. She growls again. Up close, you can see that her skin is, in fact, gray. But more than that, there are red dotted stripes covering her body. Your eyes widen as you recognize what species she is. “You’re a Kylosian.” She stops her movements to glare at you. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s none of your business,” she hisses, continuing her struggle.

“Ah, so you can speak English. Good,” you say. “Because I wanted to have a quick chat.” The audience has settled down and you can hear whispers of confusion. You internally smile at how the Grandmaster must be reacting. “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sure you’re a lovely person.” She snarls again. You keep smiling. “Anyway, I just need to win this battle and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She’s staring you down, and you foolishly think that she’s considering your offer. “You don’t want to hurt me?” she asks and you nod in agreement. Yes, this plan might work after all. “That’s a shame.” You catch the cracking sound too late. “Because I want to hurt you.”

Before you can react, Hindaa’s right hand bursts through the ice and with it, her mace. The weapon swings and catches you in the side, sending you flying several feet away. You swallow a scream before you hit the ground. You groan. Begrudgingly, you look down at your side to see three large scratches ripping through your uniform. You take a deep breath and then fire yourself up, ignoring the pain.

"Have it your way then," you say as you pick yourself off the ground. Just as you're on your feet, Hindaa is crashing down on you with her club but this time you react quicker. You bring up your shield and the club smashes down onto it. You wince at your arm, but then you swing your sword up and catch her in the hand, causing her to drop her club. You quickly summon the water from the ice and trap the club in a bubble, casting it far, far away from the arena. Hindaa looks down and glares back up at you. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nice,” she growls and you look at her in confusion as your sarcasm misses her completely. Her mace quickly comes swinging at you and you defend yourself with the shield again, but the force of her swing causes you to stumble back. Caught off guard, the mace comes back around, this time aiming at your legs. It swipes across your skin and you hiss as your knees buckle and you're on the ground again.

Hindaa continues her attack, kicking her leg up and catching you in the chin, throwing your head to the ground. You groan as your head swirls in pain. You can feel your nose pulsing in pain and feel blood begin to drip down. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Your spirit is wavering, and that’s when you feel something on your hand. You look down to see Loki’s ring pulsing. It’s never done that before. You risk a glance over at the Grandmaster’s box, but you still can’t see him. But he’s still here with you. Conflicting emotions rise within you, but it gives you the strength you need to get back up.

When you're on your feet, Hindaa swings at you but the mace is too slow this time, as you tuck and roll over to her side. You catch her side with your sword and she cries out. Her mace comes back but your shield is there, and with your other hand you swipe at her legs. She cries out again. Before her mace can take another swing, you jump and slice your sword along her hand, causing her to drop the mace. You did the same trick as you did with the club.

With no weapons, she charges at you. You use your shield but she still tackles you. She crushes your body under hers and rips the shield away from you, wrenching your arm to the side causing you to cry out. With fury, you slice your sword across her back, and when she bends in pain, you slip out from under her.

You're both dripping blood and your bodies are swaying, but you're determined. You toss your sword away, your power brimming to the surface. Before she can stand again, you take a few steps back before running and jumping towards her. As you're midair, you summon the water to freeze over your fist. You fall and crash your frozen fist down onto her head. You land on your feet, just barely. You're panting, but when you look back, Hindaa is unconscious. You take a few moments to catch your breath, and as you do that, the sounds of the crowd rush back in and you hear a loud, thundering cheer.

Holding onto your side, every inch of you either sore or bleeding, you look to the stands to see the crowd cheering for you. You're not sure if the adrenaline caused it or if you were delirious, but in that moment, you smiled. You raise one of your hands in triumph and the cheers get louder somehow. You laugh, not sure what it is exactly that you're laughing at.

Suddenly, the Grandmaster’s hologram reappears. “What a show! What a show!” he says, laughing and clapping his hands together. The efforts of the battle begin to weigh on you and you just need to keep standing. “Everyone give it up for our new champion, Y/N the Human!”

You noticed your name didn’t change. “I told you she’d be something to see!”

You look back at the door you came from to see it lifting and you start to walk that way, not much caring for what the Grandmaster has to say. You notice a few workers bring a hovering stretcher for Hindaa. One of them must have noticed your limping, because they come to your side and help take some of the weight off of your leg. You're not sure if you thanked them. All you were looking forward to was a nice, long nap.

You momentarily forgot whose bed it is you'll be sleeping on.

* * * * *

Tag List: @riribaex @80strashbag @justanothermagicalsara @speedy-object-dream @blueberry-soda57 @comehomecomehometous @chaoticsomeone

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x reader series #loki x you series #loki x y/n series #loki #loki imagine #loki series #loki marvel #marvel loki #loki fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #thor x reader (platonic)

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uriekukistan · 4 months

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Hope your day or night is going well!! ✨

Okay, top five Megumi lines/scenes?

ahhh thank you i hope yours is as well!! and thank you for the ask!!

im in the car rn so some of these i couldn’t track down the specific chapter/page bc i dont wanna use all my data :’)

1 - “i’m not like itadori, i have no problem earning 100 points for myself.” or something along that line

one of the things that fascinates me the most about megumi is the way he places value on lives, and this line is just so cool to me. he’d said before this that he saves people unequally, but this shows just how far that goes. he’ll kill anywhere from 20-100 random people so tsumiki and itadori, the two people he cares about and thinks are worth saving more than anyone else, don’t have to get their hands dirty, and their lives hold more value to him than others. it’s also so interesting to me because of the way megumi doesn’t consider himself a good person like tsumiki or itadori, and therefore doesn’t really see himself as worth saving, so it’s just a necessary burden he has to carry as the “bad” person for those two. also add that in w this line, and im on the floor

2 - his battle vs sukuna at the detention facility/“i’m not a hero, i’m a jujutsu sorcerer”

another moment where we get an insight into his ideas on good/bad people and who deserves saving, can you tell i love this aspect of his character? i mean, he’s about to sacrifice himself for itadori to live (hopefully), even though he literally met the guy two weeks ago, because he thinks he’s a good person who deserves saving. it’s the first insight we get into megumi’s thought process, and this was really the moment that made me start paying attention to him more. i also love how he kept a softer expression on his face and didn’t cry until after itadori died, like he didnt want itadori to feel sad or guilty in his final moments im SICK also the fact that he took the name-tag to that guys mom even though he didnt have an interest in saving him, like he was paying a respect to itadori….ugh…anyway yeah i love dissecting the way he values life.

3 - “so start by saving me, itadori”

see as an itafushist of course this had to make the list like this whole chapter has me on the floor but anyway aside from that, i love thinking about this scene because the words he’s saying seem so contrary to how he thinks? like he’s asking to be saved but he doesn’t think he’s worth saving? so it needs an extra layer of consideration. i feel like he really said this more to motivate yuuji (and save tsumiki) than actually wanting to be saved himself. plus the “it’s our fault, don’t be selfish and give up all alone” aaahhahahsj i just love this moment i feel like it shows his character very well….when the idgafer actually very much gaf….

4 - his first domain expansion

hellooo this was so sick and cool and badass of him like i dont think there’s anything i need to say for this. huge character development moment for him too. add this with the simple domain he had in dagon’s domain + the part in the culling games arc where he literally hides himself in the shadows……he’s crazy powerful and i dont wanna hear anything abt it! if u were traumatized like that you’d be curled up on the floor too

5 - “if you die, i’ll kill you” both times

again as an itafushist i couldnt not include this….of course there’s implications for megumi’s character as well but i feel like there’s only so much i can talk about his moral code in one post yk? but yeah i think it just shows how much the people he cares about matter to him

also bonus i love just any culling games megumi, his determination to save tsumiki and make it so itadori doesnt have to kill anyone makes him grow so much as a character and as a sorcerer, i love it sm

thank u for the ask! any excuse to yap about megumi 🤞

#me when i queue an ask game and then forget #i have no idea what’s in my queue tbh #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk spoilers #megumi fushiguro #itafushi

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tg-pilled · 5 months

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Let's discuss: Queerness in Tokyo Ghoul!

To start off, I just want to mention that these are things I have noticed. Nothing is necessarily canon (or non canon) but it's something I'm very interested in. I've been learning a lot in the queer horror club I'm in and it's been really fun dissecting Tokyo Ghoul in the same way!

This will go character to character. It's not going to be a complete list as there's SO much to cover but...

Kaneki: Not to state the obvious but his friendship with Hide surpasses a Lot of what heteronormativity usually allows. I don't think he's even fully aware of his attraction until after he meets Touka. Because Hide had been such a permanent fixture in his life growing up, they never really had ever been apart. Their bond is deep and strong and definitely can be looked at from an extremely queer perspective. (I'm not trying to say that all men who show affection to one another are queer because that is simply not true.) Once he becomes a ghoul and he has that separation from Hide, I think that is when his sexuality is fully recognized. Especially in the manga, his bond with Hide runs deeper than with almost every other character. I'd say the exception to that rule is Touka in :re. In the manga during the death kiss, he didn't even know if Hide was real or not. He was in such a state of disorientation and confusion but Hide was still the one that he saw. Of course, Hide was actually there with him. But because Kaneki was in such a delirious state, surely he could have hallucinated the death kiss to be with Touka? Or anyone else? Why specifically did Hide come to mind during that time? Again, he was in a moment of crisis and Hide had always been that stability for him but it's just curious to think about...

Hide: I've seen and read so many different rumours about how Sui Ishida intended for Hide to be canonically bisexual. However, I can't find that interview or confession ANYWHERE in a way that makes it clear that Sui Ishida actually said that so we will disregard that for now. Setting that aside, Hide has a very intriguing point of view of Kaneki. His insight on Kaneki's life is the closest we get to an outside perspective of Kaneki's behaviour from an intimate view. Obviously we see other ghouls, CCG members, etc. studying the way Kaneki behaves but we never see it in the same way that we do with Hide. That boy has been taking notes on Kaneki since he first started acting odd. He caught onto Kaneki being a ghoul with ease (ofc this depends on the version as well. We are ignoring the live action version because it screws up the source material.) No matter how hard Kaneki tried, he could not get Hide to stop caring and stop observing. Hide went undercover in both the CCG and ghoul world to make sure Kaneki was okay. His life centred around Kaneki. That in itself is a confession of love and not in the platonic way.

Uta: Setting aside the way he looks at Renji for a moment, his entire being breaks the norms which is what queerness and queer history has always been. Uta quite literally makes masks so ghouls can create a whole other identity surrounding their otherness. His entire presence screams queer-coded.

Tsukiyama: I don't think I need to explain this one much tbh but his obsession with Kaneki cannot be overlooked. It is obviously super creepy in a lot of way and he crosses a TON of boundaries. However, that level of obsession is definitely not in a "you're my guy pal, let's go lift weights at the gym" (idk what cishet men do I'm sorry). His fascination with both the male and female ghouls feels very queer to me even though it is to an extreme that needs to be observed and dissected with caution.

Nico: He is the embodiment of a gay stereotype. Obviously not all rep is good rep but he definitely fits the mold and he is definitely queer, no doubt about it.

Mutsuki: Without a doubt, he is trans. Many people argue "oh he only transitioned so he could become a Quinx Squad member and change his identity better blah blah blah." HOWEVER. I raise you: once Urie found out his assigned gender at birth, why did he feel so deeply uncomfortable? Obviously, he was worried that Urie would tell everyone and their mom but even after Urie kept that a secret, he was still nervous. It's almost like he didn't want to be treated differently because of his assigned gender at birth and transition... There is a lot about Mutsuki that could have been handled better but I also think that him keeping his preferred name, pronouns, etc. is so important. Not once did Urie question it, he just wanted Mutsuki to keep doing his job well. Mutsuki is a very complex character and you can dissect his storyline from a million povs but I think first and foremost that he is trans and that there isn't really a question as to whether or not he wants to be referred to as a man or not

Overall, all these characters are only a small part of an even LARGER queer analogy! Tokyo Ghoul is about a man learning to grapple with being both ghoul AND human. Taking this into account, a ton of queer people have to be worried about being 'found out' or 'outed' because we live in a world where it is dangerous for queer people to exist still (much like it is dangerous for ghouls to exist). Kaneki is coming to terms with the fact that he might not be fully human (or the societal norm). Learning to deal with that, especially when you feel like you're the first EVER because you have no prior experience or relationships with other members of the LGBTQ+ community is terrifying! That feeling of 'otherness' or 'monstrosity' is unfortunately something a lot of queer folks have to go through. The CCG has a very religious/governmental parallel to it and could even be used as a metaphor for the hate that queer people receive from institutions that benefit from our suffering. However, Akira AND Amon both empathize with Takizawa eventually and are subject to abuse and rejection because they love and care about someone in the 'other' community. Haise's transition and morphing with Kaneki is a beautiful metaphor for how many queer people will try to be 'normal' or conform to society for protection but you always kind of know your identity is there. As mentioned earlier, Uta makes masks for other ghouls so they can create a separate identity to protect themselves when trying to exist. That feeling of two separate identities, two separate worlds that you think cannot combine is SO common in the queer community. Kaneki feeling like he isn't enough of ghoul OR human to fit into the world at all is often how queer people are treated too. Being told you're not enough of something and being rejected by communities who allegedly were there to protect you. To conclude, I'd like to say thank you for reading all this (if you did) and also feel free to add on, debate, or include things I'm missing! Also I wrote this very very sleep deprived so I'm sorry about my grammar. Okay goodnight oomfies

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul kaneki #tgre #tg kaneki #tokyo ghoul analysis #lgbtqia #lgbtq analysis

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heliads · 9 months

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everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Nineteen: Call Up the Cavalry

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor fears that this might be the moment at which he finally goes mad.

He’s undergone enough to make the snap happen, at least. How much bending can a mind take before it breaks? How many separations, how much running, how much death and chaos can one teenage boy undergo before he starts to lose himself? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if this is all a hallucination cooked up by a brain that doesn’t want to separate itself from its familiar skull.

However, just why Connor would hallucinate this tithe of all people, he can’t understand. He stands there, blinking at the blond kid, until the figure of Lev Calder sighs, cracks a grin, and says, “Hey, Connor. Long time, no see.”

This, truly, is how Connor knows this has got to be fake. “Since when have you been friendly?” Connor asks doubtfully.

One of the teenagers next to Connor chokes out a laugh. “Lev, I thought you said you were friends with this guy.”

“I am,” Lev says, flashing the stranger a dour glare so severe that Connor is immediately thrust into more than a year of memories. Yes, that’s Lev alright. No one can cast judgment quite like a boy who’s worn tithing whites all his life.

Lev clears his throat pretentiously and motions for Connor to continue into the house. “Surprised to see me?”

“Surprised would be an understatement,” Connor remarks. “Do I have a concussion or something?”

Lev grins again. “I would make a terrible figment of your imagination, but that’s beside the point. No, Connor, you’re not dreaming. I should hope not, it’s taken ages to track you down. Hasn’t anyone told you to stop moving around all the time?”

“Yeah, the Proactive Citizenry,” Connor says wryly. “The two of you can argue over custody claims for me.”

Lev’s face tightens. “Trust me, there’s nothing I’d like to do more than poke a fight with the PC. They’re no friends of ours.”

Connor arches a disbelieving brow. “Really? Because the last time I saw you, you couldn’t get to a harvest colony fast enough. I seem to remember you arguing with Risa and I in an effort to turn the ship around when we saved your ungrateful ass.”

It’s difficult to keep the bite out of his words. Even though it’s been more than a year, Connor still hasn’t forgiven the kid for the stunt he pulled back in the boundary checkpoint leaving the OH-10 sector. When Lev had sounded the alarm, Connor and Risa had been forced to go on the run again, requiring the help of a sympathetic checkpoint worker for them to escape undetected. Even so, they’d barely made it out alive, and no thanks to Lev.

One of Lev’s friends doesn’t seem to take kindly to Connor’s hostility. He starts to move towards Connor, but Lev waves him off with a small gesture of his hand. Connor watches all this with faint curiosity– since when has the short tithe been able to inspire this kind of loyalty– but doesn’t say a word.

Lev picks up on his lingering irritation. “I wouldn’t blame you for being annoyed with me for how things ended in OH-10. None of us do,” he says smoothly, aiming a pointed glare at his vocal friend before carrying on. “I was a different kid back then. I didn’t know the importance of staying alive. I thought distribution was saving the world. Then I learned otherwise.”

Connor sits forward in his seat, unable to disguise his curiosity. “What changed your mind?”

Lev smiles softly. “Actually, I started having second thoughts the moment I turned you guys in. I couldn’t shake the guilt I felt, thinking that I had sent you guys to your deaths. I slipped away in the chaos when the checkpoint cops were trying to find you, and ended up hitching a ride on a mass transit shuttle. It was going to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, which I figured would be a good way to start clearing my head. Along the way, I met up with these guys. They call themselves the Chancefolk.”

Connor glances at the assembled group. None of them seem to be from the same place, all different heights and builds, different complexions, but the same haunted look in their eyes. Whatever they’ve been through, it’s been just as long and winding a road to walk as Connor’s.

“The Chancefolk?” Connor repeats. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“I would be surprised if you had,” Lev tells him. “The Chancefolk are the native people of the galaxy. The group you see before you is only a small fraction of their true number.”

Connor turns to face him, startled. “I thought the Collective wiped out all of the native species from the worlds they conquered. People, plants, animals, everything.”

“Think again,” says a woman from the back. “The Collective would love you to believe that they’re the supreme authority on everything, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They miscalculated and mishandled the galaxy, but we’ve been maintaining the worlds all along. There are pockets of us in every system if you know where to look. We may keep our heads low, but that doesn’t mean we can’t look around and see where we need to be.”

Connor nods slowly. “I can’t believe none of us ever knew about you.”

“The Collective’s got a pretty good propaganda blanket across the galaxy, but I have a feeling that times are changing,” Lev tells him. “For one thing, you’ve got a friend who’s pushing that boundary.”

Connor breaks into a grin despite himself. “Don’t tell me you’ve been tuning in to Radio Free Hayden? Even in your outer rim hideaway?”

Lev chuckles. For a moment, he looks younger again, more like the boy Connor remembers meeting, and then promptly abducting, all that time ago at the beginning of it all. “Of course we did. That’s how I knew you and Risa were still alive, actually. I turned to his frequency one day and heard the three of you joking around like you’d never had a care in the world.”

The smile lingers on Lev’s face for a moment longer, but then his expression sobers again. “Speaking of Risa, where is she? From the way you two used to talk on that radio show, I thought you were joined at the hip, but you showed up here by yourself. Did something happen?”

A wave of grief washes over Connor again, even stronger from its absence. “Something bad. We were ambushed by the PC. She sacrificed herself so I could get away.”

Lev closes his eyes momentarily in grief. “I’ll pray for her. In the meantime, what do you say we break her out of there? We were planning a raid anyway. I think it’s time to show the PC that they’re not nearly as strong as they think they are.”

Connor nods excitedly. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. In the meantime, there are a few things you guys should know about the PC before we draft a plan.”

The Chancefolk draw closer as Connor tells them about Dorian Heartland. He sees the outrage in their expressions, the pain and agony of knowing that their centuries-old foe is still alive. Judging by the steely resolve in their eyes, though, Heartland’s over-extended life may not continue for that much longer. Not if Connor has anything to say about it.

In the end, they walk away from that meeting with a plan. To take on Heartland and the PC, they’ll need an army. However, between the Chancefolk scattered across the galaxy and a fair number of personal friends that Connor and Risa have made along the way, they’re halfway there, and that’s not a bad start. First, though, they’ll need someone capable of uniting the worlds behind their cause, and he’s imprisoned in a harvest colony waiting to die.

“You’re certain this is going to work?” Connor asks for the tenth time. They’re approaching the exterior of the harvest complex now, nearing a service entrance at the back with weapons drawn, but even though they’ve been through the plan many times, all Connor can imagine are possible avenues of error.

“It’ll be fine,” Lev assures him yet again. “Listen, you saved my life when we first met, even if I didn’t appreciate it then. Let me help you out now. I’ve been owing you that favor for a while.”

“Don’t I know it,” Connor mutters under his breath, but he shuts up and lets himself believe in the idea that this might work.

Una Jacali, one of Lev’s closest friends among the Chancefolk, is leading the expedition. She looks as if she might be ready to assassinate Dorian Heartland herself using nothing more than her bare hands and raw anger should they accidentally cross paths. Connor never thought he’d say this, but he actually feels bad for the guy. Having someone as unbreakable as Una on your tail can’t be good.

Una signals to them, counting down from three with a free hand. When she lowers her hand, the explosives they’ve placed on the far side of the harvest complex go up in a fiery rage, drawing the attention of all nearby cops far away from them. The group sneaks through the service entrance and into the shadowy halls. Una and Connor fire at guards when they need to, but their path to the harvest colony is surprisingly clear, likely thanks to the inferno distraction still sending wailing klaxons through the complex.

“They’ll all be in the dorms thanks to the alarm,” Lev tells them. “We should head there now.”

“Remember, Hayden is our first priority,” Connor urges them. “Get everyone out, of course, but we have to make sure he’s safe.”

“Or at least his voice box,” Una supplies. “He can be shot in the leg and be fine.”

Connor shoots her a dour look. “The whole body needs to be fine, Una. He’s our friend.”

Una doesn’t acknowledge this with anything more than a raised eyebrow, which makes Lev clap a hand to his mouth in an attempt to silence his bout of laughter. “We hear you, Connor,” the former tithe says when he manages to get himself under control. “Hayden Upchurch won’t be harmed.”

Connor would appreciate a little more confidence on that front than just the word of Lev, but then again, the boy’s done this well in getting them thus far, he might as well have a little more faith. If anything, the religious upbringing in the younger boy would appreciate some good honest hope.

The group of rescuers breaks into the central portion of the harvest complex when the service corridor ends. Immediately, shots break out as several guards notice them. Evidently not every soldier had been sent to check out the disturbance.

“Go on,” Una urges Connor and Lev. “We’ll hold them off.”

Connor shouts his thanks, then takes off towards the dorms, Lev just behind them. Surprisingly, Lev manages to keep up, even despite his shorter stature. “Since when did you learn to run this quickly?” Connor asks, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Lev chuckles. “A lot happened in the Outer Rim. I’ll have to tell you sometime, but the stories would take a while.”

There’s a dark glint in Lev’s eyes, one Connor doesn’t quite recognize from the short window of time they’d spent together a lifetime ago on the stolen shuttle of a Juvey-cop. Connor makes a mental note to sit Lev down once they get out of here and ask him just what in sunfire happened in the year since they last saw each other.

That is, of course, assuming they do get out of here. It is not lost on Connor that Heartland brought all the AWOLs from the Graveyard here to trap Connor once and for all. Although Connor and Risa already sprung that trap in the synth-park, there’s no telling if Heartland had a backup scheme that could be playing out right now. All Connor can do is keep running, and hope to all the heavenly bodies that this, at last, is something the immortal murderer didn’t see coming.

The two of them reach the door to the dorms. A quick blast from Connor’s gun sears through the lock, and he kicks it open. The door surges forward on its hinges, and hasn’t even opened all the way before Connor sprints through it. Kids are everywhere inside– sitting in the corner, talking in quiet voices, poking their heads out of doors, all of them staring at Connor with these wide eyes. It occurs to him that they might be afraid of him. When did he become something worth their terror?

Then a girl near him stands up with a start. “Connor?”

He recognizes her vaguely from the Graveyard, and although they never personally met, Connor seizes this opportunity to get back control of the situation. “Yes,” he says as loudly as he can, “It’s me, Connor Lassiter. From the Graveyard. I’m here to get you guys to safety. There are some men and women outside, they’ll help you to our shuttle.”

Too afraid to believe their good luck, no one moves at first. Connor takes a few more steps inside. “Come on, hurry. Unless you guys want to wait around and get distributed?”

That does it. The girl who’d spoken to Connor earlier hastens to the door, pokes her head out, then quickly waves to the rest of the distributes to get going. “He’s right, none of the guards can get us. Hurry, everybody.”

The teenagers follow the girl, pouring out of the dorms in a shouting, cheering wave of kids. Connor can’t help a smile as he watches the life spark back into their eyes. They’ve got a shot again, and he helped to give it to them. Maybe, just maybe, he can finally make up for what he’s done. He can reverse the tides. Little by little, Connor Lassiter can get back into the good graces of the universe.

Connor pushes further into the crowd, checking each face as he passes for Hayden or, with pitifully shrinking hope, Risa. He doesn’t really think Risa will be here, if he was in the mood for being honest with himself. She’s too important a prisoner for Heartland to just toss her in here with the rest. Still, it would make his rescue attempt very efficient if he could get both Risa and Hayden out of here in only one shot. He’ll have to suggest to Heartland that he re-organize his method of exterminating teenagers so Connor is best served by it.

The ridiculousness of that thought makes Connor smirk to himself as he wades further inside. It’s a little difficult to get through as everyone inside does their damndest to get out as fast as they can. Painfully, it reminds Connor of the mass stampede inside the doomed Graveyard when they had been found out.

Just like back then, too, Connor looks up across the crowd to find someone lingering on the outskirts, someone blond and tall who makes eye contact with Connor and breaks into this wild, bright grin that Connor hasn’t seen except in his nightmares in a very long time.

Immediately, Connor throws himself against the crowd until he’s in front of the boy. For a moment, he just stares, and then he wraps his arms around his friend, squeezing him until he almost thinks he’s forced the air from the other boy’s lungs.

“Hayden,” he says emphatically.

Hayden Upchurch, because of course it is he, hugs Connor back so hard that he picks Connor off of the ground entirely before letting him back down again. “Connor! Suns, I heard a few of the religious kids talking about how they got guardian angels when they died, but I didn’t think I’d get such a heroic one. I’ve got a poster of you up on my wall, do you want to see it?”

Connor chokes out a laugh, eliciting a proud grin from Hayden when they finally break apart. “Yeah, I totally believe that the PC let you have an Akron AWOL poster in their harvest colony. That’s such a bad joke, man.”

Hayden snorts. “They only allowed me to put it up because I promised I’d get them a signed copy. Do you carry a pen with you, or should I get one of my own? You know I have to honor my promises.”

Connor just grins. “How about you keep your promise to shoot those starspawn in the legs if you ever saw them again?”

“That sounds good to me, too,” Hayden assures him. “Now come on, I want to get out of here. I don't fancy the idea of spending any more time, even in these fine living conditions.”

Connor casts one last glance over Hayden’s shoulder, but the throngs of AWOLs have already started to disperse, and he doesn’t see a particular brunette girl anywhere. “Hayden– you haven’t seen–”

He can’t quite get the words out, but Hayden, careful as ever, figures out what he’s trying to say. He puts a sympathetic hand on Connor’s shoulder, gently but firmly steering him out of the dorms. “No, Connor. Risa isn’t here. I’ve been looking out for both of you in case either of you turned up, you know that, but she never showed. I’m sorry, man.”

“No problem,” Connor says with a heavy heart. “I didn’t really think she’d end up here, anyway.”

“The two of you split?” Hayden asks, surprised. “I thought you were together forever.”

Connor shoots him a questionable frown. “What in the stars are you talking about?”

Hayden chuckles, even as stray gunfire from the cops rakes towards them. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The two of you were practically joined at the hip. It used to drive me crazy in the Graveyard, actually. Jeevan and I had a bet going on how long it would take the two of you to finally spill your lovesick little guts. Speaking of which, how long did it take?”

Hayden spares one quick glance at Connor’s face as the two of them run towards the exit and winces. “Don’t tell me you never said a thing. Connor, you’ve been leading that poor girl on for months.”

“It’s not that,” Connor protests. “And come on, seriously? A bet? I didn’t even realize I liked her until just recently.”

At the entrance to the service hallway, Lev joins them just early enough to hear the end of the conversation. “You’re talking about Risa, right? How they act like they’re supposed to be together forever?”

“Yes,” Hayden says emphatically. “Thank you.”

Connor sputters. “That’s absurd. Lev, Risa and I were arguing like crazy when you were there. Don’t join Hayden’s side, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You should absolutely join Hayden’s side,” Hayden says. “Hayden is always right.”

“He’s right about this,” Lev says as they race down the corridor. Then, to Hayden, “It’s the way they look at each other, right? They can’t stop staring. At first, I thought he had an eye problem or something.”

“Hey,” Connor complains, but Hayden just throws up his arms in victory.

“Exactly! The staring thing! Suns, they were hopeless. You’d think they got married years ago.”

“Can we please focus on getting out of here without dying?” Connor begs.

Were they anywhere but here, he’s certain he would have been ignored, but the rapid gunfire of Juvey-cops can derail any conversation. “Fine, but we’re definitely talking about this later,” Hayden warns.

“I’ll do my best to miss it,” Connor grumbles under his breath. Maybe he should have insisted that Lev stay back at the house, or told him that he wouldn’t ever get along with Hayden so he shouldn’t bother trying. Anything to avoid whatever surreal hell this is.

It takes a while to get all of the Graveyard AWOLs back to the house Lev’s friends are using as their hideout. The journey isn’t totally smooth, either: two Chancefolk and three distributes get shot as they’re running. Although the wounds aren’t life-threatening, every person with an injury is out of the final rescue, and Connor needs every single soul he can get so they’re not totally outnumbered.

Once back inside, Connor and Lev sit Hayden down to explain their plan. At the end, Hayden stares at both of them, obviously baffled. “I’m sorry, you want me to do another radio show? And that’s going to save the galaxy?”

Lev nods. “You would be surprised how many people can be saved just by hearing one voice. Or how many already have. You’re well known in the groups of people protecting AWOLs. What you need is to reach everybody else. Sound the alarm so they know it’s time to come out of hiding.”

Hayden shakes his head in disbelief. “This plan makes no sense. If the galaxy can hear me, so can the Proactive Citizenry. They’ll know we’re coming, and they way outnumber us, especially if we tell them when and where we’re attacking.”

“They already know we’re going to attack,” Connor assures him. “They knew that the second they took Risa. The only thing they’re not expecting is how many people are going to show up. If they hear your broadcast, fine. Heartland is assuming that everyone is going to brush it off again like they have all this time.”

“And we’re sure that they won’t just brush it off again?” Hayden asks, clearly dubious.

“I’m sure,” Lev answers. “I’ve been traveling all over the world since Connor convinced me to abandon my tithing. I’ve seen a lot of people in a lot of places, but everywhere, they’re starting to wonder if distribution is really the right way to go. We’ve got a serious chance now of changing their minds.”

Connor nods in agreement. “That’s the problem with Heartland, he’s gotten overconfident. He assumes that things will be the same way they’ve always been, but that’s not the case anymore. Times are changing, even if he hasn’t realized it yet. The time of distribution is over. We get to live again.”

Hayden whistles under his breath. “Damn, nice speech. Are we sure you’re not the one who should be making this broadcast?”

Connor chuckles. “Trust me, man, you’re the one with the star power. It’s your show, we’re all just along for the ride.”

Hayden’s bright spark of a grin shines again. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better thing. Out of curiosity, how in sunfire is my broadcast reaching the entire galaxy? I mean, my old signal barely made it a few star systems over. There’s no way I can reach everybody on my old tech, plus it was all blown up when the Graveyard went nuclear. Unless the two of you went scavenger hunting around that wreck, we need more comms equipment.”

“Consider that settled,” Lev says. “I’ve got some stuff from an anonymous donor, really nice gear. They’ll be able to hear you from Centerworld all the way to the outer reaches.”

Hayden rubs his hands together excitedly. “In that case, I think it’s time for a show.”

Lev takes the two of them to the room where they’ve been storing the comms gear. He informs them that the Chancefolk have been using this place as a home base for technology and missions operations, hence why so much equipment has been stored up. Hayden’s eyes light up when he sees the new gear, and can’t contain his excitement as he rattles off all the specs of this top-notch equipment. Several times, he has to be reminded that he’s not just here to sightsee, but actually record something.

At last, after some quick tune-ups and test runs, Hayden finds his old frequency and starts to talk. He planned out a loose script with them beforehand, mainly just a few talking points, but they’re more than happy to let Hayden run wild with whatever he comes up with. So long as it gets to the main conclusion in the end, of course.

“I’m not dead,” Hayden announces dramatically to the microphone, “That may come as a surprise to some of you, given the recent lapse in broadcasts, but Radio Free Hayden is still alive, and so am I. So are runaway distributes across the galaxy, or so I hear. Personally, I have Connor Lassiter to thank for my survival. We’re still alive. AWOLs, if you’re listening, I hope you’re still out there, still whole. I’m glad to be back, but I need something from you.”

Hayden takes a deep breath before continuing. “The Collective wants your pieces. All we did was live, and yet total strangers are perfectly willing to tear us apart just because our parents and State Homes gave the say-so. I know this is wrong, and so do you, listeners. However, for once we’ve got a chance to fight back. I need you all to come to Dandrich-IV. Yes, in Centerworld. We’re making a stand against the Collective, and that means we have to go to their home base. I’ll relay the coordinates in time, but I need everyone to show up and be willing to fight. I’m sure all of you remember Risa Ward, a good friend of mine and Connor’s. We need to save her life, listeners, just as she saved your lives by proving that AWOLs could exist out there in the open sky. She’s our friend, and she’s your friend. Let’s get her back.”

Hayden sends a nervous glance Connor’s way, but Connor just responds with a single thumbs up. Hayden’s doing great, now he has to send it home. “We were never meant to survive for long, you know. The Graveyard proved otherwise. Connor and Risa and I, we did our best to show you that we’re real kids, worthy of living even if someone decided otherwise. I know that we deserve to live. We all know it. The Collective is trying to make you think that the fate of the galaxy depends on all of us dying for the cause, but that’s not true.”

“There is nothing any of us can do. We are children. We are kids. As a species, it takes us years to be able to tie our own shoelaces. We’re not even able to drive a hovercar until almost a fifth of our life has gone by. Why, then, is it that the burden of fixing an entire society falls to us? Maybe it’s because we’re the only ones left to care. We’re going to die anyway, listeners. We might as well die doing something worthwhile. Follow me to Dandrich-IV. We’re going to make a stand. We will be heard. And if we lose our lives out there, at least it’s more living than we would have done if we’d been distributed at the start.”

Connor’s heart is pounding in his chest. Surrounded by his equipment, Hayden’s lip curls. “Besides, our enemy won’t understand what it’s like to fear for his life. Did you know that the head of the Proactive Citizenry hasn’t been honoring his promise to only give distributed parts back to the galaxy? The CEO of the PC is a man named Dorian Heartland. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s been around since old-Earth days. He’s been cheating death by swapping out his own rotting parts with fresh ones from kids. To all the adult listeners out there, do you think your children deserve to die so some rich guy out there can have eternal life? To the new generation, do you want your life to go to some man who’s already had more than his fair share of lifetimes?”

“We’re taking back our lives, listeners. We’re winning the war. I want to see you at the gates of the PC. I want you to make a change that generations after us will remember. I’m sending you the coordinates now. If you believe in life, I’ll meet you there. One last time, I’m signing off with everyone’s favorite tune. And remember– the truth will keep you whole.”

With that, Hayden decisively presses the button to end his recording. The grainy beats of some old-Earth song fills the room. Hayden closes his eyes, basking in the sound, his chest rising and falling dramatically. Connor, too, feels as if he’s undergone some great physical exertion, and all he was doing was listening.

When the last bars of the song fade from Connor’s ears, he breathes out unsteadily, not sure what to do in the face of this sudden stillness. “That was incredible,” he says.

Hayden cracks a tired grin. “Thanks. Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

Lev shakes his head in awe. “Not a chance. Man, if you hadn’t been slated for distribution– if you could have lived a normal life– you would have made a killing as an actor or something. You’ve got a knack for speeches.”

Hayden’s face twists. “A lot would have happened if we’d had normal lives. You’d still be with your families. I’d be with mine. They had a lot of rich actor friends. Maybe they would have sent me into that life. Who knows.”

Connor’s heart sinks at the grief plainly written on Hayden’s face. “A lot would have changed if we were never supposed to be distributed. We probably never would have met. I’d be a completely different person.”

“So would I,” Lev echoes hollowly.

“So would I,” Hayden repeats, his voice distant and toneless. All of a sudden, his head snaps up, and he makes eye contact with both of them in a row, quick and fierce. “I’m glad we met. I didn’t want to die, obviously, but I’m glad to have you guys. And Risa, and Jeevan, and everybody else. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, but I do want to end the circumstances that brought us together. It doesn’t mean I like you guys any less, just that–”

His voice breaks off unevenly, but Connor can fill in the gaps. “Just that no one else should have to die even though we lived.”

“Exactly,” Hayden says.

Lev nods slowly. “We’ve got a chance to turn things around. All we have to do is wait and see how many people heard your signal.”

Although he hates to break the tentative peace that’s settled over them, Connor still has to ask: “What if nobody comes?”

Lev looks at him with grim determination. “Then we go in alone, and save Risa or die trying. We won’t hide in the shadows anymore. And if we die in there, then our blood is on the hands of everyone who didn’t participate. Maybe that’ll move them even more than Hayden’s speech.”

The back of Connor’s throat is raw like acid, but he makes a sound of agreement. Lev is right. Whatever happens from here on out, Connor will still go into Dorian Heartland’s center, and he will find Risa. Maybe he’ll have an army at his back, maybe he’ll only have a couple of friends. But Risa will be found, and for once, Heartland won’t have the last laugh. That, at least, he can guarantee.

They allow themselves a couple of standard hours for everyone to show up. As it turns out, they don’t have to wait that long. Within half an hour, ships are already starting to tune up. Voices are popping up on Hayden’s frequency, different people chartering trips together or announcing that they’ll be meeting Hayden on Dandrich-IV. It occurs to Connor, listening to all of these strangers he’s never met saying that they’ll follow him to death or salvation, that he may have started a revolution, or at least helped build a spark into a blaze.

If this inferno consumes them all, at least Connor’s last hours will have been something bright, something beautiful. He’s had an awful lot of time to run and hide. At some point, he has to turn that restless energy into a fight. Now is the time.

He’s interrupted from his reverie by Lev running into the room. The younger boy can hardly manage a word, too excited by something outside. He gestures for Connor to follow, and Connor doesn’t need any extra encouragement, breaking into a run as the two boys hurry from the room.

Lev leads Connor to the door of the house, then pushes it open. Connor stands for a moment on the threshold, blinking in the light, staring in abject astonishment at all of the faces looking expectantly at him. Some are strangers. There are adults and children, bodies young and old. Some bear the wounds of previous fights. Others wear clothes so nice Connor is certain that they must have come from Centerworld itself. All in all, there are dozens of people scattered around the road leading to their hideout, maybe even hundreds, and more arrive by the minute.

“So many people,” he chokes out in a daze.

Hayden emerges from the house by his side, holding up a hand to wave to the gathered crowds with a dazzling grin. “Turns out a lot more people believe in the cause than you think. Still having trouble believing that we’ll win?”

“Not anymore,” Connor manages. “I mean, I didn’t even know that many strangers knew who I was.”

“They’re not just strangers,” Lev corrects.

And, looking out at the throngs of people, Connor realizes that he’s right. Shading his eyes from the sun, he recognizes Bam, Mai, Diego, and the rest of the group that had saved him when Heartland first tried to get to Connor. He leaves his friends at the doorstep, weaving through the crowds until he’s in front of them.

“You guys came,” he says in a daze.

Bam nods impatiently, although she can’t seem to hide a proud grin. “You kept your promise.”

“Plus, someone wanted to meet her hero,” Mai adds. Bam elbows her in the ribs, but the embarrassment on the girl’s face shows some truth to the statement.

“Go talk to him,” Connor encourages. “Hayden always likes meeting new people.”

He doesn’t stick around to see if Bam goes or not, distracted by another face in the crowds.

At first, he can’t quite place the old woman in the security uniform, but then she sighs deeply at the confusion on his face and the name instantly comes back to him. “Sonia?” Connor asks in astonishment. It’s the woman who rescued him and Risa at the OH-10 boundary checkpoint.

“Don’t look so surprised, boy,” Sonia says irritably. “I saved you once before, I assumed I’d have to do it again. Didn’t expect this sort of support, though.”

For once, the perpetual glower on her face lightens into a half smile. “I’m proud, Connor Lassiter. This change is a long time coming.”

“It is,” Connor agrees. Another figure emerging from the crowd calls his attention yet again, and he heads past Sonia to come to a stop in front of one particular cyborg that Connor never thought he’d see again.

At first, all of Connor’s systems go on high alert. Then, before Connor can even ask what in sunfire he’s doing here, Cam holds up a mechanical hand and answers the unspoken question, “I’m here for Risa, not for you. Trust me. She saved my life by getting me off the planet. I need to return the favor, and for real this time. In all honesty. To be completely genuine.”

Connor chuckles. “I think we’re in agreement there.”

He spins in a slow circle, still surprised by all of these faces smiling at him, ready to go to war so that he and every other teenager there can live. When he stops moving, another person has replaced Cam.

Connor’s heart lurches in his throat. “Grace,” he says. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Grace Skinner taps her fingers together, her expression as practical as ever. “I didn’t know either,” she answers honestly. “I think it’s good, though. That man has to pay for what he did to Argie. He killed my brother. I want to be part of the group that kills him. It’s only fair.”

“That sounds good to me,” Connor admits. “And Grace– I’m sorry. Even still.”

“I know,” she tells him. “Let’s get our revenge, then.”

A careful smile rises to Connor’s lips. This emotion coasting over him in waves isn’t happiness, not exactly, but it feels pretty damn good, too. Looking around at all of these people, the Chancefolk talking to Lev, the crowds of old friends from the Graveyard, the AWOLs and adults who have united under this one banner, Connor realizes that he’s finally got his army. The only thing left, then, is to get his girl.

Dorian Heartland has no idea what’s about to hit him.

unwind tag list: @locke-writes, @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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infinitethree · 16 days

Text

Okay, you know what?

The bastard is almost, on an aesthetic level, not terrible to look at while he’s like this.

Asleep, he can’t be a fucking sociopath or an asshole. Those too-clever eyes of his aren’t judging and dissecting, they’re closed.

The absence of that bright blue gaze makes him seem surprisingly vulnerable.

So does the way Daz has, in the short while he’s been asleep, already snuggled up to him and is being clingy.

After the last few hours of running around looking for him, it’s a relief to know that he’s been mostly fine all along.

Naturally, when Daz didn’t come home, Raine got worried. The Council, aside from Lee who had been kept out of it, have been searching his known hidey-holes for hours now.

Obviously the HQ was one of the first places they checked, but the wall that leads into the hidden room was sealed off. They assumed that meant he wasn’t there, so they ignored it.

It wasn’t until Aster, in a last-ditch attempt, decided to open it up and check that the bastard was found.

He’d been fine, thankfully. Just having hyper fixated on the code and shut out everything else.

Aster carefully takes his com out and taps out a message to the others.

ShiningAster: bastard located. fine but asleep. focused on coding body for Innit, forgot he has a human body.

RaineStorm: seriously?? uhg, at least it’s normal shit this time

RaineStorm: as opposed to soul crushing despair and existential terror

Khons: need help moving him? ShiningAster: staying here. fell asleep on me, he has nightmares. also touched starved. might be less bastard if he gets good sleep

It’s only a little bit of a lie. Technically, none of that was wrong, but the implication was that Daz wasn’t strongarmed into accepting.

RaineStorm: yeah his nightmares are BAD and music only kinda helps.

ShiningAster: I think I can fix it. saying more will make him pissy

Khons: well if he’s not in trouble and staying there we’re going to bed

ShiningAster: night

RaineStorm: gn

RaineStorm: it’s gonna be really funny seeing him fall for you ngl

ShiningAster: its gonna be weird as fuck for me

After a moment, he switches to DMs.

ShiningAster: at some point we have a kid. Not adopted I think. looks just like him. her name is Azira. means rising star.

RaineStorm: WHAT THE FUCK??????

ShiningAster: also he made a deal to help with Innits body for seeing the same shit I do. but for me obviously

RaineStorm: oh my god that stupid asshole

RaineStorm: maybe he’ll learn his lesson. bc you’re def good to him, I know you.

ShiningAster: hes capable of being good to me back. too busy being petty for now though

RaineStorm: yeahhhhhh. he’s def an acquired taste. but he really is a great guy when you get past his him-ness

ShiningAster: lol

RaineStorm: he figured out I’d want a heated tub, art studio, and a porch. it’s freaky tbh but it’s nice.

ShiningAster: sounds fake but ok

RaineStorm: you’ve never seen him be like that so it’s hard to picture but it’s true!

That’s not quite right; Aster has seen Daz be kind and generous to others…he’s just never been the target.

No, maybe that’s not fair. He’s dragged Aster to a place of being better in a way he never would have done on his own. Despite his attitude, it did still benefit Aster.

Granted, he’s also been an asshole on purpose for literal years, so. That kind of events out.

ShiningAster: honestly just want to eat his damn food without being drugged

RaineStorm: something something the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach

ShiningAster: it sucks so bad to play chicken on if Ill suffer when I touch his cooking

ShiningAster: usually its worth it. at least until whatever he put in it hits

RaineStorm: and now we know why

ShiningAster: maybe therapy will fix him

RaineStorm: ngl I think not thinking he’ll kill anyone he loves will do wonders on its own

RaineStorm: but therapy will help too probably

ShiningAster: cant say much for obvious reasons but hes fundamentally broken. has been for most of his life.

ShiningAster: but Id never have a kid if he didnt seem in a good place. so whatever he does works

RaineStorm: have you considered it might be the power of love

ShiningAster: fuck you

RaineStorm: I’m serious!! think about it, he’s spent like 4 years thinking being loved will get that person killed

RaineStorm: he might have divine confirmation but he’s stubborn. might not feel real

RaineStorm: soooo someone who loves him despite his bullshit might be the thing that makes him be less…yknow

Ah, another reminder of how deeply fucked up Daz actually is.

ShiningAster: could be having someone who knows his secrets or even just Innit being out

RaineStorm: remind it that it needs a new name btw. too close to existing ones

RaineStorm: but yeah that probably helps too

RaineStorm: I feel awful I never noticed he was so…unwell

ShiningAster: hes good at hiding what he wants to hide. cant blame yourself when hes a master manipulator.

Said master manipulator mumbles into Aster’s chest, voice small, “I missed you.”

And, fuck, something in his chest feels like it cracks when Aster realizes what and who Daz must be dreaming about.

There’s nobody it could be but his former mentor. The person who gave him everything he ever wanted…and then committed an unspeakable sin against him.

Clearly, Daz still misses him. Despite what Dream had done to him, a part of him still misses the person who crushed him infinitely worse than anyone before him.

Despite only getting brief glimpses of that time, Aster gets the impression that Dream had been someone whose preciousness went beyond words.

Yet Daz couldn’t stomach letting him have his way after what he did. He rejected a place as a near-god beside someone who, despite the sickness in his soul, was devoted to him to a disturbing degree.

That…takes a strength of will that Aster isn’t completely sure he could match.

Fuck, nor does the decision to use the lethally broken enchantment as a backup plan.

If the rest of the server had failed to kill him, Daz would have chosen a death so agonizing that it chills Aster to his core.

It’s not hard to see why Daz is so…himself, honestly. Aster might not be able to think like him, nor agree with his actions, but in a fucked up way he can follow most of the logic now that he has the pieces.

He swallows as Daz’s voice wavers and cracks. “You said you’d protect me, so why…”

Aster adjusts his arms to a more comfortable positon, and messes with his hair more. “I’m not him, Daz. You’re not Tommy any more. Dream was sick– you know that.”

Horrifyingly, Daz starts shaking as he cries.

He rushes to add, “But– but you can have something new. Fuck, if you can be even halfway decent, I’d fall for you pretty damn quick. You can be charming, you know? And– and pretty romantic. It was– maybe it wouldn’t be awful. If you just stopped being such a bastard–”

At a loss for what else to do, he cuts himself off and starts humming.

Eventually, Daz slips back into deeper sleep.

But the memory of this unsettlingly fragile side of him will remain in the back of Aster’s head. Even when Daz is being the biggest bastard he can be…Aster knows he’ll remember this.

#chronotag #shiningaster #dazzlingvoid #Aster has COMPLICATED FEELINGS about this!!#on one hand he still has a lot of resentment and anger bc of Daz's actions #on the other like--#Daz is shockingly vulnerable in this scene. it's not something Aster has seen of him y'know?#trauma is dealt with with snarling anger and seething hatred #not crying. not asking 'why' in such a broken voice.#so yeah. Aster is like-- 'fuck I kind of see what future me sees in him #he's stronger and weaker than I ever imagined #and maybe since I already know that I'll fall for him anyway it's....okay? to feel something here???#let's start with pity. I'll begin there and see if he fucks it up.'#also yeah Raine is like WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU TWO HAVE A KID #he's having a little crisis at home lmao #'there's no fucking way I'm not one of multiple godfathers. is it me Theo Lee??? (yes)#do I. do I start figuring out baby shit now. how quick does this happen. there's like 9 months at least right?#I can start when they bring it up probably. but also this is DAZ AND ASTER'S KID #gods help that poor kid. what do you need to babyproof a house actually that's something innocent I can research'#esp after Aster stops replying he's just left to deal with his ?????????????????? about it all LMAO #like granted he's also proud that Daz is letting Aster help him sleep. Daz rejects most kinds of touch in blackout rooms #but especially anything that lasts a long time #this is a HUGE deal for both of them and Raine (as their mutual bestie) is like YEAHHHHH GO ENEMIES TO LOVERS ARC #Raine def has THOUGHTS about all this btw. if anyone cares.

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skzsauce01 · 2 years

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Losing Game

Description: Jeongin loves you to death. Based on Duncan Laurence’s “Loving You is a Losing Game.”

Warning: death, war, inferiority complex

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: fem!reader x Yang Jeongin

A/N: Thank you to my SG friend for the military consult lol

Loving you is a losing game.

That’s what he thinks as he watches you fall to the ground. Time seems to stop, and in that moment, he sees your life together flash before his eyes.

He met you in high school. You were lab partners for biology, and he never thought anyone could look good in a lab coat until you walked up to him and introduced yourself.

“Hi!” you said. “I’m Y/N. You’re Jeongin, correct?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry you’re partnered with me; I’m not that smart.”

You laughed amusedly and he could feel a warmth spread across his chest. “Well, Jeongin, I hope I can prove you wrong. Biology’s really fun, and I think you’ll find yourself better at it than you think.”

Jeongin never once met anyone who had such confidence in his academic ability. Your words resonated with him, and in the end, he really did do better than he could have imagined. He didn’t exactly find biology as fun as you suggested, but he would study late into the night for that one class just because it was on something you liked. He would stare at the tips and pointers you hand wrote for him until they’re etched into his brain, and imagine that little smile of yours whenever he did well.

“This is the gallbladder, right? Next to the kidney? We need to dissect that out,” he’d once said.

“Right,” you nodded. Leaning towards the mouse pinned to your dissection tray, you began to pinch the gallbladder with your forceps. At that moment—one Jeongin thinks was sent from above—a strand of your hair falls into your face.

“Dang it,” you cursed, trying futilely to push it away with the non-gloved part of your wrist.

Jeongin, who was designated notetaker for the day, set his pen down. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind, can you grab a bobby pin from my pencil pouch?”

He bent down to your backpack and did as told, but was not expecting the heart attack he got when he straightened back up to see you leaning towards him.

“W-would you like me to put it on for you?” he stammered.

“If you don’t mind.”

Putting that bobby pin in your hair was the single most difficult thing Jeongin had ever done. The second most difficult thing was ignoring how hard his heart was pounding against his ribs afterwards.

“You’re pretty good at this dissection thing,” he comments, clearing his throat and trying to distract himself.

You beam. “You think so? I want to be a doctor when I grow up.”

“You’d definitely be a very good one.” Jeongin felt a little nervous. Would you still consider someone like him by your side when you are rich and successful?

What Jeongin thinks he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for with tenacity. For all three years of high school, he slaved through the most difficult of science courses just to stay by your side. To his surprise, you stuck by his side too, ignoring your more high-achieving peers’ dissuasion and their mockery towards someone like Jeongin.

Loving you is a losing game.

“Heyo,” you greeted him one lunch period, pulling a chair up to his desk like you’ve done every day for the past few years.

Jeongin quickly hid the barely-passing math quiz his teacher just handed him. “Hi, Y/N.”

You frowned, noticing his unusual demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, sipping nervously on his water.

You turned your head toward the chalkboard where his teacher had written the mean and standard deviation of the test. “Math?”

He signed helplessly and nodded.

“Do you need any help?”

He bit his cheek. “You’re already carrying me in chemistry; I don’t want to keep bothering you.”

“You’re not a bother. Besides, what are friends for?” Seeing that he wasn’t budging, you asked, “What do you want to do in the future?”

What did he want to do? That was a good question. He had gotten so used to just following you, he did not have much of his own direction. He did know that whatever college you were going to, he did not have much of a chance with, so what was he going to do?

You continued, “If it’s not math related, I don’t think you have to be so stressed about one grade.”

“But you’d never have done as poorly as this,” he couldn’t help but mutter.

You furrowed your brows immediately. “Jeongin, do you compare yourself to me?”

“Well, not exactly, but I— I mean, obviously, I can’t—”

“Jeongin,” you cut him off.

“I know I shouldn’t—”

“Jeongin.”

You only continued when you finally got him to look you in the eye. “I think you are brilliant. Really, I do. You have a unique ability to see different aspects of things I have never even considered. Sure, you may not score the highest on tests and exams, but the school system only measures one type of intelligence; it just happens to not be yours. It doesn’t mean you’re not smart, and it certainly does not mean you should see yourself as incapable. I look up to you, Jeongin. I wouldn’t if you weren’t worthy of it.”

Jeongin stared at you blankly after your speech. He felt funny. He didn't quite know how to put it, but it felt like you’d just turned his world upside-down.

“So, yeah!” You smiled, moving away from the serious tone.

“What are your future plans?” Jeongin asked in return. “It’s time to start applying to college soon.”

“I was actually looking into the military.”

“Military? But you don’t even have to serve.”

You shrugged, taking a bite of your lunch. “Med school is expensive. Besides, it almost guarantees me a job.”

Jeongin chews slowly. “But it’ll be hard.”

“But at least we’ll be together, right? When you enlist too?”

He nearly chokes. Your well-meaning, friendly words were too much for his heart. He knew you did not have the intentions he’d wished you did, but he couldn’t help but hope.

He really should not have loved you. Maybe then, you would have had one less reason to be in the army. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be here, with him, on the front lines of 38th parallel.

Loving you is a losing game.

“Sergeant, how are you holding up?” Your voice was staticy over the walkie talkie, but Jeongin was glad to hear it after trudging through trenches for the last couple of days.

“Hanging in there, Lieutenant.”

“Good. The North seems to be advancing. The medical team is approaching as a precautionary and to check vitals.”

“Roger tha—”

BOOM! A large sound interrupts all conversations.

“The North has activated one of our landmines! They are less than 500 meters away!” announced one of the men.

Jeongin threw on his helmet. “Fall in!”

“Be careful!” Your voice was barely registered as another bomb went off and the troop mounted their guns over the trench.

The battle was chaos. No training, no matter how thorough, could have prepared Jeongin for what he experienced. Bullets were everywhere, and he could not tell if he’s even still alive or if his body was just acting on its own with residue adrenaline. The enemy kept advancing no matter what he did, but his own men were dropping like flies.

“Push forward” He barked.

If his troop replied, he couldn’t hear it over the mines exploding and cannons firing. He led them onwards, shooting anything he could see without being able to even think about it. He was doing well—you were right about him being able to see things others couldn’t which allowed him to weave between enemy lines and attack where they were most weak. All his focus forward though made him neglect one thing: himself.

He knew as soon as he felt it under his foot.

“Fall back!” he cried, almost not quickly enough.

He could only pray his men did as told as he himself jumped as far away from the mine he just activated.

“Jeongin!”

The pain was excruciating. He ended up sprawled forward, and when he looked back through blurred vision, his entire right leg was missing.

“I— I— I—”

“Shh, shh. Don’t panic.”

His head falls back to the ground, dizzy. Still, he kept his eyes trained on you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Over your radio, he could hear, “Lieutenant L/N, what are you doing? Retreat immediately!”

“If I don’t put a tourniquet on this now, you WILL die, Sergeant,” you declare through grit teeth.

“Just leave me. You’re going to get shot on this active field.”

“I’m wearing a red cross; they won’t shoot me.”

“Are you crazy? No one’s looking at who’s wearing what right now!”

“Just shut up and stay down!” You glared at him, eyes blazing with a desperation he’d never seen before.

“Y/N…” He wanted to tell you to run, but his world was quickly growing dark. He could barely even mutter your name.

“Just… just shut up.” You went back to tying off his dismembered leg.

“Y/N…” But if he had the time to tell you one thing, it’ll be—

“You can’t die. I won’t let you,” you sniffled.

“I lo—”

You were tying the last knot, trying to wipe your tears with your shoulder as you did so.

And that’s when it happened. That’s when he saw a bullet pass cleanly between your two eyes, and that’s how he comes to watch you fall, life already gone from your body, onto the ground with a soundless thud. He lays there, next to you, unable to do anything. With the last of his consciousness, he reached his hand out for yours.

Loving you is a losing game.

Jeongin rolls his wheelchair into his office. He turns to the picture on his desk and salutes it. It is a picture of you, smiling with him the day he was promoted sergeant. He was so full of life back then. You were too.

… A broken heart is all that's left I'm still fixing all the cracks Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home

… I've spent all of the love I saved We were always a losing game Small town boy in a big arcade I got addicted to a losing game

He peels his eyes away from you and goes to throw on his doctor’s coat.

… Oh, oh All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

~ ad.gold

#jeongin #in #stray kids #skz #jeongin fic #in fic #stray kids fic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #jeongin angst #in angst #fem!reader #reader x jeongin #reader x stray kids #20230209

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