#minors get the off of my page seriously this shit embarrassing

[possumoleander]

Merry Goremas!!!

I hope y'all are having a great Christmas/whatever you celebrate!

Character(s) used: Kit, [Belongs to @possumoleander]

[a-killer-obsession]

I hope no one already sent this one in when you asked for it, but 2 X

You have freed me from my horny, horny curse, I am forever in your debt

Fresh Ripe Peach

Prompt: Writer's Choice

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, incubus!killer, loss of virginity, monsterfucking, rough sex, biting, demon summoning, cum play, oral (receiving and giving), cumshot, fingering, bulging, deepthroating, praise kink, p in v sex, creampie, cockwarming, slave/master terms used

WC: 5k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

It was frankly embarrassing how horny you were, and desperate times called for desperate measures, kneeling on the floor of your cabin, chalk in one hand, dodgy looking occult spell book in the other, tracing out the markings on the page as instructed. The book was probably all bullshit, and you were already mentally resigning yourself to another night of disappointing jerking off until your vibrator died, but it was at least worth a shot. Chalk replaced by a lighter, you put down the book momentarily to light the five candles that sat at each tip of the pentagram you'd drawn, adding to the ambient low light in your room given off by your bedside lamp.

You adjusted your provocative clothing, feeling a little ridiculous but hey, if it worked you were dressed to impress. Strappy leather harness forming an upside down pentagram on your chest, lacey black bra that lacked cups, framing your bare breasts. Matching panties with a triangular cutout over your bare-shaved mound, thigh garters adorned with small metal pentagram charms, the bands digging into your plush thighs and creating delicious indents. Your hair was fixed in a sleek high ponytail, eyes lined with heavy black liner, lips painted in dark, nearly black, smudge-proof purple lipstick. You hoped the spell would work, or this immaculate outfit would be quite a waste.

Satisfied your outfit was all as it should be, you picked the book up and began to chant. Did you understand the latin you were reading? Absolutely not a lick, but you hoped it translated to something along the lines of ‘excuse me demons, dinner is served, come get some pussy’. You finished reading the spell and let out a deflated sigh as nothing happened, seriously considering begging someone on the crew to fuck you, when suddenly the room went dark, the candles all blowing out at once and the bulb in your lamp failing. A few moments of pitch black darkness later and the lamp flickered back on, your heart racing as you heard heavy footsteps running up the hall outside your room. Oh shit, did it work?

The door flew open, a flurry of blond and blue flying in and immediately yelling, the door slamming shut and latching again, notably untouched. “A SUMMONING CIRCLE? REALLY [Y/N]? ARE YOU STUPID?” The bare foot of the first mate rubbed furiously at the chalk diagram on the floor, clearly fresh from his bed in only a pair of blue gingham pyjama pants and his mask, “get rid of this shit before some other asshole decides to answer, for Lucifer's sake.”

You were entirely speechless, suddenly remembering your physical state and crossing your arms over your chest to cover your bare tits. “KILLER! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” you shouted.

“Oh now you don't want me in here,” he tsk'd, “you summoned me, here I am! Chicken out already, girlie?”

“Summoned you?” You replied, so very confused, looking at your discarded spell book. Was there even a spell for summoning a first mate? That seemed oddly specific, and not at all occult. Superior summoning spell? Blonde asshole spell? Huh? “I- I didn't-”

“You summoned a companion demon, did you not?” he loomed over you with his hands on his hips, every rarely seen curve and divot of his muscular chest on display.

“I summoned an incub-”

“Do NOT use that word,” he cut you off, physically pinching your lips together. “It's derogatory, we prefer companion demon”

“Okay?” you relented as he let your lips go and crossed his arms over his chest, “I summoned a companion demon,” you repeated sarcastically, “so why are- wait, what do you mean ‘we’?”

“How do you think I knew what you were doing in here? You called, I answered,” he replied nonchalantly, “you're fucking lucky it was me, stupid girl.”

“But you're not-”

“-a demon?” He laughed. He removed his striped helmet and squatted in front of you, letting you see his unmasked face up close and personal. You'd always been told he didn't like his smile, but you could see now that was a blantant lie. There was a very obvious reason the Massacre Soldier covered his face. His eyes were icy blue, his pupils thin slits like a snake, his sclera entirely black, as though dipped in ink. When he opened his mouth you could see sharp extended canines and his tongue was longer and more pointed than a human's. “Like I said,” he continued as he stood, placing his mask on your dresser, “you called, I answered”

“Why- what the fuck is a inc- sorry, companion demon, doing on a pirate ship?” You asked, pulling a blanket from your bed and wrapping it around yourself, Killer rolling his eyes at the bashful motion.

“It's a long story,” he sighed, “Kid's mother was my master, she bound me to Kid as she was dying to protect him till he reached adulthood, but I grew fond of the little guy and had him bind me himself”

“So, wait, if Kid is your master, why are you here?” You queried.

“This is my territory,” he huffed, “you sent an open invite to every available asshole on the Grandline. Thanks for that, by the way. You're fucking lucky I was close enough to get here first or you'd already have some disrespectful dickhead balls deep in you. Do you have no regard for your own safety? What the fuck came over you to summon a demon?”

“I was horny… “ you mumbled under your breath.

“And you couldn't just go ask someone for a quickie?” He scorned, “Nobody on this crew is good enough for you?”

“It's not that…” you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, “they're just not… um… my type?”

“Really, nobody on this extremely diverse crew is your type?” He raised a brow.

“They're not uh… monsters?” You replied hesitantly.

“I think you'll find given our reputation that there are plenty of monsters on board,” he replied, before the penny in his brain dropped, “unless- oh you're really fucked up, huh?” He said with a shit eating smirk, “So that's it, you summoned a demon cos you want your brains fucked out by some beast? Is that it? Dirty girl~” he purred.

You were bright red with blush, slowly sinking under the top edge of the blanket. “Can you just go away please…” you mumbled, muffled by the fabric.

“Actually, I can't,” he huffed, “you made a contract when you summoned me. I'm here till sunrise. What, the scary eyes and fangs not enough for your needs?” You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, so unbelievably ashamed of yourself. “It's just as well this isn't my true form then,” he grinned toothily.

Your eyes widened as his skin began to shift hue, turning to an icy blue that matched his eyes, the colour darkening as it made swirling patterns on his arms, turning to a royal blue, then a deep, almost black, navy at the hands. His nails lengthened, forming sharp, dangerous looking claws. His ears elongated, turning to points. You let out an audible gasp as he dropped his pants and underwear, letting the fabric pool on the floor and revealing an absolutely monstrous cock that made your mouth water, a deep royal blue adorned with navy swirls, and a now freed tail flicked out to the side from his rear, the end capped with a sharp arrow tip as he let it slowly move. Two mostly straight, navy coloured horns sprouted from the top of his head, curving almost back into him, tipped in icy blue and lined with ridges. Most impressive of all though were the two grand bat wings that spread out from behind him, clawed at the top-most point, the structured areas navy while the membranes faded to royal blue, and the same icy blue as his skin at the centermost edges.

“Is this more to your liking, Master?” He stepped towards you, leaving his pants on the floor, entirely naked and proud in front of you. Even flaccid his cock was huge, directly at your eye level as you hid under your blankets, and you bit your lip as you shamelessly eyed him like a meal, scanning over his blue tinted body. He squatted in front of you, tilting your chin up with a hooked finger, his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, claw threatening to injure. “Don't even bother trying to lie to me, this is what I was made for. I can smell your arousal, I can hear your heart quicken”

“Fuck,” was all you managed to get out, letting the blanket fall to the floor around you, exposing yourself to him.

“There's a good girl,” he purred, “let me see that pretty body.”

You leaned back on the palms of your hands, letting your legs stretch out in front of you, forced to part slightly as they slid either side of him. He ran his eyes down your body, humming contently to himself, before his eyes ran back up and met yours. “This contract is an exchange,” he explained, crawling forward to loom over you, “I give you pleasure, and in exchange you allow me to feed off your sexual energy. It costs you nothing, you won't even notice it leaving you, save for being maybe a little tired tomorrow”

“Is this… what you usually do with Kid?” You stuttered as he placed a hand on your stomach, catching the waistband of your panties and playing with it as he used the cutout to hook his thumb through them.

“It is,” he smirked, “people don't summon demons like they used to, it's better to have a bound Master”

“Killer, how old are you?” You asked curiously, noting that the slits in his eyes were significantly more dilated now as he looked at your body.

“I resent that question,” he huffed.

“Oh come on, humour me,” he squinted at you in annoyance, “more than a hundred? More than five hundred?” He rolled his eyes. “More than a thousand?” He gave you a playful look that told you that you were close. “MORE THAN A THOUSAND?”

“Why, you wanna call me great-great-great-great-great grandaddy while I fuck you?” He smirked, unflinching as you smacked his chest in retaliation. “What do you want out of this anyway? I'm at your servitude, whatever you want, it's yours. No kink too fucked up.”

“I, uh… I don't know…” you mumbled, turning shy again.

“No? Nothing you particularly enjoy?” He asked. You looked at him shyly and he blinked in recognition. “I swear to Lucifer, [y/n] tell me you did not summon a demon to take your virginity!”

You gave him a forced apologetic smile and he groaned, “You are actually so fucking lucky that I answered your call, fucking hell. Actually, scratch that, maybe I'm the lucky one. Do you even know what a rarity you are to demons like me? You're a ripe peach, ready to sink teeth into. Fuck, your energy is going to be delicious.” You could see the way his pupils were pulsing and dilating as he looked at you, his sharp tongue running over his fangs, looking like he was ready to physically bite into you. You felt very much like prey pinned under a predator with Killer's large body looming over you, looking down at you with eyes nearly entirely black from lust, mere slivers of blue left in them, his tail flicking behind him like that of a cat enjoying playing with a mouse. “I'm going to have such fun with you, my peach”

You squeaked as Killer suddenly grabbed you and threw you on the bed unceremoniously, your body bouncing a little at the impact. You started to instinctively crawl backwards, away from the dangerous predator, but he grabbed your ankles and pulled you back towards him. “Ah, ah, where are you going, my peach? We have a deal. I'm gonna eat you right up,” he gave you a toothy grin before pulling your leg up and sinking his teeth into your plush thigh, right over a garter, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make you yelp. He hooked the garter with his fangs as he drew back, pulling on it and letting it go to ping against your thigh, making you hiss. “Such a pretty outfit for me too,” he hummed, spreading a hand out over your mound, sharp claws pressing against your soft belly, before he suddenly made a fist, bunching the front of your panties in his hand and pulling hard, “it's too bad I have to ruin it,” he feigned a pout, before adding his other hand to the mix and tearing the panties from your body.

“Killer!” You shouted, trying to squish your legs shut, but he was far stronger than you and easily pried your thighs open, pinning them against your stomach.

“Come now, don't go getting shy on me now,” he purred, getting his first look at your bare pussy, “such a pretty, pink peach too, and so juicy,” he knelt down and flicked out his long, pointed tongue, swiping it over your cunt and collecting your slick on it as you whined, drawing it back into his mouth with a satisfied hum as he savoured the flavour, “so sweet too, I can't wait to devour you. You'll let me, won't you my peach?”

He looked at you expectantly, and you realised that despite his rough and threatening treatment thus far, he was asking for consent before going any further. Perhaps you were lucky it was him and not another, you got the sense that demons did not usually ask consent. You bit your lip and gave him a nod, your pussy aching for more after the one brief touch, and he gave you a toothy grin, his fangs glinting under the low light from your lamp. His face disappeared from your view again, unable to see him past your own legs, but fuck could you feel him. His tongue was sinfully skillful as it played with your clit, rolling and flicking it, running firm stripes over it, dipping down towards your entrance and teasing it with just the tip of his tongue as he gathered the honey that dripped from it. You moaned and writhed at every gesture, clawing at the blankets either side of you wishing you could pull on his hair or, fuck, maybe even his horns. Whether it be because he could read your mind, sense your need, or because he just wanted to look at you with that shit-eating grin, he let his hold on your legs loosen enough that you were able to let your knees fall outwards, revealing his face half covered by your pussy. His head now accessible, you were able to reach down and grab one of his horns, which he must have liked as he groaned against your cunt. Spurred on by your small spike of confidence, he let his tongue drag down to your entrance, looking up at you with those inky eyes and a sharp smile as he sunk his tongue inside you, enjoying the way your face contorted with pleasure as a deep moan fell from your lips.

He thrust his tongue in and out of you, curling its length occasionally to flick against your g-spot as he brought a hand to your mound, pressing against it while his thumb reached down to play with your clit. You pulled hard on his horn as your head lolled back, hips rolling in time with his shallow thrusts as he brought you to your peak, creamy ring forming around his tongue as he worked you through it.

“So sweet, my peach,” he purred as he kissed your thighs, wings stretching out behind him as he crawled up your body. “I ask again though, is there anything you want of me? Before I fuck the coherence out of you”

“Wanna- wanna taste you,” you mumbled, one hand draped over your face, the other still clutching his horn.

“So take it,” he purred. You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, before grabbing his other horn and pulling him down towards you, crashing your lips against his. He let you lead the kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, enjoying the feel of your curious muscle against his. Your hands left his horns to travel down his body, feeling and groping at his arms and pecks, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples and tracing your nails down his abdomen. You wrapped both hands around his thick cock, pumping it sloppily, your inexperienced determination making him smile against your mouth. He reached down and guided your pace, squeezing your hands to adjust your pressure and moving your hands in a way that indicated he preferred the focus on the base, letting your hands go once you got the hang of it. His hands wandered over your body, pinching and pulling at your nipples, one hand moving further to play with your cunt more, making lewd squelches that made you blush as he slipped two fingers inside you and matched his thrusts to the pace you were pumping him with. He swallowed your moans, your pure sexual energy making his whole body tingle delightfully as he consumed it, adding a third finger and working towards stretching you out enough to take his thick member.

You could feel his precum dripping down his shaft in generous streams, running over your fingers as you stroked him, lubricating your motions. You brought a hand to your mouth and he watched as you experimentally licked the precum from it. He brought his own fingers from your cunt to your mouth, and you opened your mouth for him, shivering at his toothy grin as you sucked your own arousal off his digits. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard on them, running your tongue around them and pressing it flat against the underside, and he swore under his breath.

“Such a pretty mouth, my peach, almost as pretty as that pussy,” he purred, “would you like to taste more? I'd love to see how those pretty pink lips look wrapped around my cock”

He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop and you pushed towards him, his wings spreading behind him as he let you push him flat against the bed to straddle him. You kissed him hard before running your kisses to his jaw, breezing past his goatee to suck and nip at his neck. He whined as you made a particularly harsh bite, the sound making electricity go straight to your cunt, so you did it again. Over and over you bit down, sucking his flesh into your mouth and leaving dark bruises in your wake, running your tongue flat to soothe over them before continuing, leaving a trail of bites and bruises like step stones from his neck to his cock, each whine and groan making your pussy drip more. You enthusiastically took his cock in your hand as you reached it, running your tongue up the underside and collecting the precum beaded at the end, salty and hot on your tongue as you swirled it over the head. He was watching you carefully as you licked him, his head falling flat to the bed as you finally took him in your mouth, a string of curses falling from his mouth as you took as much as you could fit off him and serviced the rest with your two hands tight around his base. His cock stretched your lips to the limits, corners stinging from it, and you gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat, so much of him still outside your mouth. With each dip of your head you worked to take him deeper, gagging less intensely each time as you adjusted to the intrusion, breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat till you were able to take most of him, having to remove your hands from his base and instead groping at his thighs. His tail wrapped around your throat gently, using it to feel the way his cock made your throat bulge, one of his hands grabbing your ponytail and twisting it around his wrist to hold it like a leash.

“Fuck, good girl [y/n],” Killer groaned, “look at you, taking me like a natural, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Do you want my cum, sweet girl? Want me to cum down that tight throat of yours? Or maybe you want it on your face, paint you with my cum so you look like the sweet little monsterfucking slut you are, huh? Would you like that?”

You whined around him, vibrating his cock in your mouth before burying his cock right to the base, your nose against his blonde tuft of public hair as your eyes watered, eyeliner running down your face with it as your lipstick wore off and made a purple ring around his cock. “Ohhhhh fuck [y/n], just like that, just like that, fuck, gonna cum sweet girl, where do you want it baby?”

You pulled off his cock with a pop, making your choice clear. He held your ponytail tight, making you whine as he started furiously fisting himself with his other hand. “Show me your tongue sweetheart,” he groaned, and you lolled your tongue out for him, closing your eyes as you anticipated getting cum near them. Your hands kneaded his thighs as he threw back his head and groaned, ropes of cum splashing against your face and tongue, some of it overshooting and getting in your hair as he coated your face with dripping swathes of cum, making your pussy clench around nothing. Your pretty cupless bra and harness were entirely ruined by this seed, white puddles catching on the pieces as his cum dribbled down your neck and chest.

“Damn, look at you,” Killer purred as he loosened his hold on your hair and let his cock go, using his thumb to push more cum into your mouth, watching you swallow it as you sucked on his thumb and shivered at the dark look in his eyes. “Now you look like a needy little slut who would summon a demon, perfect little peach. C'mere”

He pulled you close and kissed you hard, and you shivered as he started running his long tongue across your skin, cleaning his cum off you, occasionally using his tongue to push more cum into your mouth which the two of you would then swap between your mouths and play with till you needed to swallow, Killer then returning to licking your face and repeating the cycle till his cum was entirely replaced with his saliva. His cock was still hard and you pulled yourself the rest of the way into his lap, grinding your cunt against his dick, making you both moan.

“Needy little slut,” he cooed, “you want my cock, my peach? Take it, it's yours.”

You ached with a desperate need to feel full, so you raised yourself on your knees eagerly, reaching down between your bodies to take him in your hand and align him with your entrance. He watched with pride as you sunk down on him, hand going to his shoulder once he was inside you enough, gripping him hard as he guided you with a hand on each side of your ass. The stretch stung but you were more than determined to get all of him inside you, and you let out a stuttered breath as you found yourself fully seated in his lap, entirely impaled on his thick cock. “Look at you!” He exclaimed proudly, “I didn't think you could do it, you take me so well, so tight and wet around me”

“Killl~” you whined, using his shoulders as anchor points to lift yourself before dropping back down, whining at the pull against your strained pussy. “Too- too big-” you whined.

“Nonsense, look at you, you took all of me first try,” he praised, “look at your lovely tummy bulging, what a pretty sight, my peach”

You looked down between your bodies and sure enough you could see the swelling of your abdomen where his cock was sheathed inside you, making you whine at how full you were. “You're doing so good,” he cooed, lifting you easily by your ass and lowering you again, making you moan, repeating the process over and over, each time lifting you further and faster, until you were bouncing on his cock and screaming his name, holding his horns for support and he brought his hips up at the same time, slamming into you each time he lowered your body. His eyes were rolling from the pungent sexual energy that was emanating from you, making his whole body shudder, the dense concentrated nature of your previously untapped energy making him moan and curse under his breath as he consumed it. There was a burst of energy that made his toes curl as you came hard, squirting on his cock and writhing against him, pulling so hard on his horns he wouldn't be surprised if you accidentally tore them clean off. You went entirely limp as your orgasm faded, still jolting occasionally from aftershocks as he continued at the same brutal pace, drunk on your sexual energy and craving more of it. No human food could ever compare to the pure satisfying flavour of a virgin's untouched energy, not even his favourite spaghetti dish, you were a rare delicacy he was thoroughly enjoying.

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, he let you fall to the bed, pulling out of you only for a moment to flip you to your front, pushing your thighs together and straddling them as he resheathed himself. He fucked you like a stag in rut, grunting with every hard thrust, wings flapping excitedly above you and tail shaking like a lion about to spray to mark his territory. He wanted to mark you, make you his possession, against his better thinking and his contract as your servant. Your energy was just so intoxicating that it was making him blind with lust, and he couldn't help but lean down and sink his teeth into your shoulder, holding you tight in his jaw as he felt your pussy clench around him again. You saw white and were sure you passed out for a moment from how hard you came, sparkles in your vision as everything went tight then slack, that last wave of energy and your pussy tight around his cock being all he needed to throw him over the edge. He groaned against your shoulder, biting down harder and drawing blood, his wings stretching out and shaking, tail going limp, cock throbbing as he unloaded inside you, his heavy load dripping from your overstuffed cunt as he stilled inside you.

His jaw finally released you, swiping his tongue over the tender mark in apology as he panted hard against your back, his wings falling slack and draping either side of you like curtains. In your haze you reached out and touched one, making him shiver as you ran soft fingers over the delicate membrane. “Don't pull out yet, please…” you whispered shyly. He kissed the centre of your back and wrapped his arms around you, rolling you to your side with him and draping his wing over both of you like a blanket. His tail wrapped around your thigh as pressed his legs against yours, his head coming to rest on the pillow behind you, his soft breath tickling the baby hairs on the small of your neck.

“Whatever you want, my peach,” he cooed, “I'm yours till sunrise”

“And… after sunrise?” You asked hesitantly.

“Enjoyed yourself, did we?” He chuffed, “promise me you won't summon anymore demons and I'll let you have me on your whim, when Kid doesn't want me. Perhaps you can have both of us, if it pleases you. But this has to be our secret, okay my peach? The demon stuff, not the fucking. The World Government does not take kindly to demons, hence why I don't reveal myself in battle, even if it would give me a significant advantage. Fairly sure the whole ship knows we fucked at this point though, given how loud you were, I wouldn't be surprised if you even woke Kid, screaming like a coyote in heat”

“Killlerrr,” you whined with a pout. He smacked your face playfully with his wing and you huffed indignantly.

“What, you summon a demon to fuck you and expect to stay dead silent the whole night?” He laughed, “sweetheart I've got a thousand years of experience making people cum, and I'm young for a demon. The sounds you made were absolutely delicious, music to my ears, you're lucky I'm even letting you rest right now. A sweet ripe peach like you, any other demon would still be fucking you, even if you passed out they wouldn't stop till sunrise. Don't think you're off the hook yet just because I allowed you some cuddles, I can't wait to get more of your delectable energy.” He punctuated his sentence with a quick thrust of his cock still inside you, making you squeal. You didn't understand how he could possibly still be hard but you could only assume it was a demon thing. “Are you well though, my peach? Didn't hurt you too much?”

“Mmm… just my shoulder,” you touched where he'd biten and winced, and he apologetically kissed the spot tenderly, “otherwise I feel good. Feels nice, havin’ you inside me”

“Ah, I got a little carried away with that bite,” he ran his tongue over it and you could feel the pain fade as it magically began to close, “my apologies, master. Perhaps I can make it up to you.”

His hips began rocking again, a devious grin on his face, making you moan unabashedly as he set off a new wave of merciless fucking, and you had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[bestiesenpai]

Lout - Naoya Zenin

Y’all ever seen that movie bad teacher with cameron diaz that would be me as a teacher lol also Naoya is a third year 18+ all that good jazz fun fact I’m actually allergic to minors so yeah even mentioning them breaks me out into hives, it’s disgusting they’re disgusting, would not recommend. 0/10 stars on google review and yelp also femme reader 3.3k words

Content warnings: noncon + dubcon, age gap(reader is obvi gonna be older than naoya lol), teacher x student shit, degradation, choking, noncon video taking, biting, spanking, not a mindbreak necessarily but there’s hints of that here

There was a problem child in your senior class and you weren’t even the main teacher. Stuck as a teaching aid until you could get full certification, it wasn’t even you that really had to bear the brunt of this student's bad behavior should the principal ask. Yet somehow, it was your duty to get him into line before he graduated in a few months.

Naoya Zenin couldn’t even pretend to care about his highschool reputation. All he focused on was being top of the class and making sure everyone knew who exactly was in charge. At an elite private school where his family had been generous donors for generations, Naoya’s behavior was almost expected.

Until he nearly put another student in the hospital after a fight. That was the final straw for disgruntled parents and students alike, causing a massive uproar and demanding action. And of course that call to action fell on your shoulders.

“Seriously? They stuck me with a fucking aide?” Throwing open the door to the office space assigned to you in the meeting, Naoya glared at you. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked you or anything, but he felt slighted that the school didn’t send a real teacher to talk to him.

“Have a seat, Naoya.” Standing up from the desk, you motioned to the lone armchair in the room. Walking in and slamming the door behind him, Naoya rolled his eyes as he flopped into the chair.

“Let’s make this quick, I’ve got a dive team meeting soon.” Looking out at the courtyard below, Naoya squinted against the harsh afternoon sun coming in through the windows. He wasn’t concerned with this meeting at all, wanting it to be over so he can go and impress some Olympic team scouts.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you rustled the papers on your desk. There were pages of notes on what you were supposed to say, how you were supposed to say it and a few forms Naoya had to sign as well, stating that he’d be on his best behavior until graduation.

“Naoya, you know why you’re here.” You started, unable to meet his pointed gaze as it flicked over to you. “You’re behavior has gotten out of hand and-”

“So what?” Letting his head loll back, Naoya shrugged.

“And you need to be held accountable for your actions.” You pushed through the interruption, feeling your cheeks heat up in indignation.

“Yeah? My family’s had the dean in their pocket since this school was founded, I doubt there’s much I need to be accountable for.”

“You can’t throw money at everything, you know?”

“Why do you think I take judo?”

“Naoya, please.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you mimicked him for a moment and leaned your head back. “We’re supposed to be having this meeting to reform your behavior. You did a really bad thing, you nearly killed that other student.”

“Reform? The board sent you to reform me? That’s a fucking laugh if I’ve ever heard one.” Letting out a boisterous laugh, Naoya slapped his knee. “How are you going to change me when you can’t even look me in the eye?”

“T-that’s not important.” Embarrassed, you forced yourself to make brief eye contact with him before shuffling your papers around again. “Look, can you just let me say what’s on these papers? Then you can sign them and be on your way.”

“I don’t think I will.” Crossing his arms, Naoya had the nerve to stretch his legs out and prop his feet up on the desk.

“Naoya-”

“I still think it’s hilarious that you’re here of all people. I mean, just look at you!” Gesturing vaguely to your form, Naoya laughed again. “Not even a real fucking teacher yet. Why don’t you go back to the little corner office you have and let the grown ups handle the big stuff?”

“I’m older than you!” This was bad. He was trying to rile you up and it was working. The control you already didn’t have on the situation was getting worse by the minute and both you and Naoya knew that the power balance between you was heavily skewed in his favor.

“Really? I couldn’t tell, you’ve got about as much gusto as an infant.” Giving you a once over, he sneered. “The only thing going for you is your looks and honestly, they could use a little work.”

“Hey!” Now your face was really on fire. Chuckling at your reaction, Naoya sat up a little straighter.

“Don’t get so upset, I know a pair of twins that would be more than willing to help you improve.”

“Can we just focus on the reason we’re here?” You wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. The chances of saving this meeting - and your dignity - were slim to none, but you still had to try.

“Right, right, this nonsense about ‘reforming me’.” Using heavy air quotes, Naoya dragged his feet off the desk and let them land on the ground with a loud thud. Taking another look out the windows, he started to undo the tie around his neck.

“Yes. Now, you’re going to sit there and just listen, okay? It’ll only take a few minutes, then you can go on about your day.” You were foolish to believe that you could possibly do anything to Naoya, let alone change his mind on something like this. All the high hopes you’d scrounged together before this meeting were utterly crushed when Naoya stood up.

“No, you listen.” In one fell swoop, Naoya pushed all the papers off the desk, waiting as they all fell to the ground and drinking in your shocked expression. “It’s almost insulting that you think you have any control over this situation, let alone me.”

“Sit back down, Naoya.” Your voice shook terribly as he rounded the desk. You weren’t able to push your chair away fast enough, and he was able to grab onto the back and spin you to face him.

“But teacher, I don’t want to.” He mocked, wasting no time in grabbing you by the throat and forcing you to stand. Clawing at his hand was no use, Naoya’s strength greatly outmatched yours and in just a few moments he was able to manhandle your arms behind your back and use his tie to bind your wrists together.

“Let me go, Naoya!” Thrashing against the desk you were now leaning on for support, a sense of dread filled you. Even if you managed to undo the tie, there was still the issue of actually getting out of the room and away from Naoya, and if his ease in handling you told you anything it was that that task would be impossible.

“Ya know, (Y/N)- can I call you (Y/N)?” He had a stupid grin on his face, pushing you to lean more on the desk as he stood in front of you. “You’ve talked a lot about reform and changing my behavior, but the only one I see here in need of an attitude adjustment is you.”

“Naoya!” Horror ripped through you as he yanked your top open, popping the buttons on your blouse and letting out a whistle at seeing your bra.

“(Y/N), I think you’re violating dress code right now.” Clicking his tongue, Naoya pulled your bra down as far as it would go. “I’ll have to give you a demerit.” Keeping one hand on your throat, Naoya pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers.

You wouldn’t know it, but Naoya’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. The rush of power he usually got from presiding and dominating the other students was nothing compared to the power he felt now. This wasn’t even something he dreamed about doing, but you’d just given him the golden opportunity to really test his power at this school.

Lurching forward, Naoya sunk his teeth right below your jawline, somewhere he knew you’d have a hard time covering up the mark. The pained squeal you let out went straight to his head and right between his legs, making him bite you in another place and suck harshly on the skin.

Rutting his hips against your thigh, Naoya groaned as he trailed his mouth down your neck, leaving deep teeth marks that he knew would sting when you were alone at night later. Putting one of your nipples in his mouth, Naoya rolled it between his teeth and let drool drip out of his mouth and down your skin.

“Stop it, Naoya! Let me go!” There were strained tears in your eyes that refused to be blinked away. A flurry of slurred protests left your lips as his hand tightened on your neck, enough to have you gasping for air.

“Not until I teach you a little lesson.” He growled, leveling you with a single look. Keeping his grip firm until your eyes rolled back in your head, Naoya let go when he was sure you wouldn’t try to speak again.

Coughing and spluttering, there was little you could do with your fuzzy brain to stop Naoya from turning you around and bending you over the desk. Your face pressed into the hard surface and the wood dug into your face and hips as they were pushed forward.

Grabbing onto your bottoms, Naoya pulled them down until they were at your ankles, unceremoniously ripping off your panties and no doubt shoving them into his pocket. Your heated skin was exposed to the air of the room, making goosebumps pebble on your flesh.

“Ow!” The first slap to your ass was hard and unforgiving, making the tears in your eyes finally fall. “S-stop!” You tried to move your body away from the impending pain but it was no use, Naoya hit your other cheek almost as soon as you started to move.

“What’s wrong, teacher? Never had a bit of corporal punishment?” Laughing haughtily, Naoya grabbed your stinging skin in his hand.

“Ow, ow- N-naoya please, let me go!”

“Not a chance!” Slapping both cheeks in tandem, Naoya could feel the adrenaline going through him. There was no limit to what he could do in this moment, he could walk away and leave you like this, stranded for someone to find. Or, and he liked this option more, he could keep going, and save a few keepsakes for himself.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Naoya opened the camera with no hesitation. Taking a video of your heaving body, groping your ass and hips, spreading your cheeks apart to reveal your asshole, Naoya tried to keep the groan coming forward low.

“W-what’re you doing?” You could just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, and your blood ran cold upon realizing what he was doing.

“Say hi.” Shoving the camera in your face, Naoya grabbed your chin to keep you from turning away. “Smile for the camera, (Y/N), don’t cry!”

“No, no, no…” Your career is over. Your life is over. Everything you’d worked so hard for, your education, this job - it was going to be taken away if Naoya decided to share the video. You’d be blacklisted from ever working in a school again and you would definitely face legal trouble for being in this situation with a student.

Leaving you for a moment, Naoya propped his phone up on the windowsill, making sure the camera was capturing the both of you as he went back over. Giving a cheeky little wave to the camera, Naoya turned his attention back to you.

Pushing a hand between your legs, Naoya chuckled darkly at the slick that met the tips of his fingers. It was a miniscule amount, but enough that he could mock you over it. Dragging his fingers through your folds, he presented the fingers to you.

“Who knew Ms. (Y/N) was such a fucking slut?” Rubbing his fingers together, Naoya held his hand up to the camera. “Ms. (Y/N) likes it when I’m rough with her.”

“No...no I don’t.” Sniffling pathetically, you shook your head as best you could.

“Don’t lie, the proof is right here.” Wiping his fingers across your cheek, he made a show of pushing your legs further apart and putting his hand back on your cunt. Pinching your clit, Naoya bit his lip as you let out a high pitch whine.

He knew he’d meet too much resistance if he tried to shove his cock in straight away, so Naoya took it upon himself to prep you a bit. Rubbing your clit in tight circles, he leered over you and watched as you struggled to keep whimpers at bay.

“Don’t be shy, let the camera know how much you like this. We already know how much of a slut you are.”

“I don’t- I don’t like this.”

“Hm? Then why are you getting wet?”

“T-thats-” He had you beat there, the glide of his fingers was getting easier and a distinct wet sound was starting to take shape.

“No need to be shy, teacher. You can tell me you’re just a dumb fucking slut.” Pressing his lips against your ear, Naoya looked at the camera. “I know you see the camera, say it nice and loud for me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, a sharp cry ripped through you as Naoya hit your thigh. From the force of his slap you knew there’d be a hand printed welt on your leg.

“Say it.”

“I-I’m a- a dumb fucking slut!” You sobbed and the strength nearly left your legs entirely. If not for Naoya holding you up you would have tumbled to the floor in shame.

“Now was that so hard?” Standing up straight, Naoya was done stalling. Pushing a finger inside you, he deemed you ready enough to take him and undid the belt on his pants, letting them fall to his ankles.

Taking a second to himself, Naoya ground his clothed cock against your body. This opportunity was something to cherish and he was going to savor every moment of it. Taking a deep breath as pleasure made his spine ripple, Naoya pushed down his underwear and grabbed his cock.

“Teacher, I have a bit of a problem, won’t you fix it?” Naoya teased, rubbing his cock along your slit.

“Wait Naoya, you need protection.”

“Shut up. You’d be lucky to bear a child with Zenin blood, so count this as a gift from me to you.” Putting the tip in, Naoya let his head fall back and gaze down his nose at where your cunt was already sucking him in.

Ignoring your protests, Naoya pushed his cock in all the way, quickly bottoming out and nestling his hips snugly against yours. Planting his hands on the desk to steady himself, he had to take a few deep breaths before beginning to move again.

Putting a hand on the back of your neck to keep you from moving too much, Naoya pulled his hips back, looking at the way his cock glistened with your slick. Breathing hard through his nose, he pushed back in and started a steady rhythm.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He grunted behind clenched teeth, the hold on your neck getting tighter as he focused on moving his body and not cumming too soon. The clap of his hips against your ass was music to his ears, a sound Naoya was sure not to forget any time soon.

The shame of being fucked by a student was heavy enough on your mind but the shame knowing you were starting to enjoy it was even worse. Keeping your eyes tightly closed, there was little you could do as Naoya pounded into you, the full length of his cock hitting places inside you that hadn’t ever been touched before by previous partners.

“Fuck!” The shout that came out of you was unrestrained, you couldn’t contain yourself as Naoya put his fingers back on your clit. Humiliation covered you like a thick blanket, almost choking you as much as Naoya was.

“I knew you’d come around, (Y/N). No one can resist a Zenin.” Smirking at your scrunched up face, Naoya wrapped his hand fully around your throat and pulled you up until your back was nearly flush with him.

The new angle had a loud moan coming from you and Naoya was close to cumming as well, he could feel his toes start to curl and tingle. His mind was starting to get foggy, and the hold he had was starting to slip from the sweat building up between you.

“Make sure not to waste what I give you, okay? It’s special.”

“You have to pull out, Naoya. You have to!” You couldn’t get pregnant by a student, especially one as high profile as him. Humming against your ear, Naoya shook his head.

“No, I don’t think I will. This is the last part of your attitude adjustment, I need to make sure you remember it.”

“N-naoya- pull out-” You stuttered as your orgasm washed over you, making your back arch and angling your ass perfectly for Naoya to cum as well. Making sure his cock was as deep as possible, Naoya let you fall back onto the desk as he rutted into you.

Biting you on the shoulder one last time, Naoya stayed inside you until his breathing went back to normal and his cock went soft. He had sweat clinging to his body and his uniform was wrinkled beyond belief when he stood up.

Fixing his clothes, Naoya undid the tie around your wrists and watched your arms limply fall to the side. There was no doubt you were sore, he’d given you enough marks to last a week. Smoothing a hand over your still stinging thigh, Naoya stepped away from you and laughed as you fell to the floor.

“Ya know, maybe this meeting was beneficial after all. Wouldn’t you say, teach?” Toeing at your spent body curled up on the floor, Naoya drank you in one last time before going to his phone and ending the video.

Gathering his things and answering a few texts, Naoya grinned as you hobbled to your feet. You avoided looking at him, opting instead to try salvage your own clothes and make sense of the world again. The sun was still shining brightly in the sky and if you held your breath you could hear the distant sound of students on a baseball field.

“Well, I’ll be going now.” Naoya threw open the door, startling you.

“Wait.” Reaching out to him, your eyes went straight to the phone in his hands. “That video-”

“Don’t worry, I won’t show it to anyone, I promise!” Crossing his fingers for dramatic effect, Naoya tucked it away into his back pocket. “Stay out of my way for the rest of the school year, and I’ll delete it when I graduate.”

You couldn’t trust his words and you both knew it. There was no way Naoya would let this be a one time thing, now that he’s gotten a taste for it. He would only continue to take what he wanted from you, making your life hell until he left the school - he wouldn’t let you leave before him.

“Fine.” But it was all you had to go on, so you nodded your head and accepted your fate.

“Fine.” Nodding curtly, Naoya stepped out into the hall with a wide smirk on his face. “See you in class later, Ms. (Y/N).”

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy - Kikuta deserved better - 273-276

As I catch up on things, I’m gonna hit the highlights that really stuck with me.  Ogata is able to escape from Vasily using the tactics he observed from the showdown in Barato with Hijikata cutting through random row houses.  He’s seriously gotten into Vasily’s head as he hesitated to snipe aggressively after killing the wrong guy with Ogata’s cloak.

The only worthwhile thing from this continued and seriously a no longer interesting plot point, is getting to see Ogata wiggle under a fence like a cat.

So, I approve of this at least.  My own cat scores this as an 8/10 in cat wiggling.  Minus 2 points for not enough emotion from Ogata’s face.

Thankfully, Asirpa was able to escape with Sofia after Tsukishima gunned down Ariko.  It seemed to me that Koito froze/hesitated during that situation.  Tsukishima had no problem brutally shooting Ariko at point blank while Koito literally just hung back and watched. 

Asirpa is in a state of extreme shock. She just interrogated by Tsurumi to give up the code, watched Ariko be shot and now sees Boutarou’s corpse in the bottle-mobile.  Our girl needs years of therapy - she’s reaching the same level as our male cast members at this rate.

At least she breaks down in tears as Sugimoto tries to console her.  The artwork for this part of the page is excellent, it really does capture the melting of her mind and how she’s realizing how deadly the gold is.

It ties directly back to her argument with Kikuta before all this shit went down.  I’m always giving Sugimoto crap for being a moron, but it seems that he did make the right action by reaching out to allow her to hug his arm.  There is that soft look as he gazes down at her and just lets her be emotional.  It is clear that his presence is a comfort to her as she takes her time before returning to a more lucid mental state.  This is shown by how she opens her eyes and looks up before declaring that they need to meet up with Hijikata since she’s figured out how to crack the code.

Meanwhile, Kikuta rushed Ariko to a clinic to save his life.  Being the father figure/older brother he is, he tells him that it isn’t his time to die; he never made that makiri yet! And to my relief, Ariko wakes up!  Noda didn’t go for the lazy writing of killing of the minor Ainu character, something I was afraid of.

If his father saved him, it means his makiri was where he was shot in the chest under his uniform.  There is a lovely transition about a makiri in a fictional museum that was made by him, implying that he returned home and did make the makiri and likely resolved some of his identity issues, though it was still likely a tough life for him.  Ariko apologies for not being able to work as a spy for Central and really it isn’t like he’d be able to do so anyways.  But he did verbally point out he’s now politically on the side of someone like Asirpa to fight for their culture and right to exist in spite of colonial powers. The middle panel of Kikuta bidding him farewell just gives me the feels.  It is so clear that Kikuta knows he’s toast.  He saw Tsukishima shoot Ariko and Tsukishima likely watched him as he tried to save the man.

The fact that he said a casual line about going to an onsen.  Ugh, death flag for sure right there.  It seems Ariko knows that as he looks forlorn.  Kikuta is that sort of suave man who is going to look cool even though he’s doomed; he’s that awesome.

The action returns to Tsurumi at the church having solved the code.  With Tsukishima gone off to try to kill Ariko, Koito has remained behind.  All of a sudden Koito reverts to his extreme Satsuma accent when addressing Tsurumi in the absence of Tsukishima.  I think he didn’t even realize it at first, just like how after they escaped the fight with Boutarou, Koito spoke normally to Tsurumi without realizing it.

It is clear it took him a moment to realize he was speaking ‘Koito’ as Tsurumi is unable to respond to him and he then panics.  Koito is more than willing to chase after Tsukishima and support him, but Tsurumi instead recalls him.

At first he consoles himself that everything is okay. 

He is trying very hard to convince himself that everything that they witnessed through the keyhole was all an act to get the key!  Yes, it isn’t that Tsurumi doesn’t have some sort of awesome goal and this isn’t about how the death of his wife and daughter left him unhinged!

But the other random members of the 27th then comment on how strongly Nikaido reeks of beer . . . and Koito then thinks about how he and Tsukishima were hiding in the room at the church when Tsurumi ‘checked’ that he was alone.  And then it hits him - they were also played as a part of the ‘Tsurumi theatre’.  Unlike Tsukishima who has whole-heartily given himself over to Tsurumi, it is clear that Koito can’t.

That monologue sounded too good to be true.  He weakly says Tsukishima’s name into the rain as he then thinks ‘No . . .’  The rain is really fitting in this scene, I think it really is a stand in for Koito’s own disappointment and tears in this entire crazy quest for the gold.  Is he worried about his ‘older’ brother figure?  Himself?  Both of them?

He continues to try to rationalize the performance that Tsurumi gave them - even if Tsurumi lied to them, it wasn’t all a lie.  Oh Koito.  I want to give you a hug and pull you away as your little bon-bon-ness has won me over.  Most of that speech wasn’t for Koito, it was for Tsukishima.  Speaking about helping Japan is what Koito would like to hear but we can tell he doubts that as well.  Hence, his waffling.

But then he realizes that as Tsukishima has given so much - all of Tsurumi’s words, even if they were ‘sweet lies’ as he he referred to them on Karafuto, it was just perfect for Tsukishima.  However, Koito has broken the spell that Tsurumi held over him.  The final page of the chapter of Koito looking at the illuminated Tsurumi and shutting the door on him.  It is the exact opposite of when Tsurumi rescued Koito from the kidnappers when in his youth. I now find myself wondering how this relates to the tiger curse.  It is clear that the curse for Tsukishima will not end well.  After he shot Ariko, his eyes regained their sparkle!  Not good, not good at all!  However, have I misinterpreted it for Koito that by becoming disillusioned with Tsurumi he will be cursed to be miserable through him gaining independence from his hero worship of Tsurumi?  The idea that ignorance is bliss, and now Koito is well in the know.  The fact that when he and Tsukishima were sort of on the same page was when he could speak to Tsurumi but now that he’s on a different path from Tsukishima he’s tripped up again.

Chapter 274 finally allows Asirpa to determine the fake skins after what she witnessed with Boutarou in the brewery and thinking about Ainu garments that she figured out that Edogai likely went above and beyond with his fakes.  Thanks money counterfeiting guy from the fake Ainu village for the inspiration.  It is a lot of pages that tie together other plot points nicely but really doesn’t do anything for me as a reader personally.

The most important point is that as Sugimoto falls asleep while Asirpa and Hijikata work with the skins is that we get another flashback - one that links him to Kikuta!

and even more importantly - Hanazawa Yuusaku!  Chapter 275 starts out with an homage to the classic movie ‘Singing in the Rain’.  As soon as I saw Sugimoto spinning on a lamp post, it was obvious.  Yes, small town boy in the big city - causing trouble.  He gets in some sort of brawl with random guys from the army and is ‘rescued’ by Kikuta, who immediately realizes that he’s hungry and decides to treat him to some lunch.

It shows that Sugimoto has a short fuse and is an impulsive youngster.  Really, he is lucky that he didn’t do more stupid shit to get him in trouble.  We can also clearly see that Kikuta is a member of the 1st Division, the Tokyo based one that Sugimoto eventually enlists with.

Kikuta decides that he wants Sugimoto to impersonate Hanazawa Yuusaku and to go on a marriage interview for him.  This is because Hanazawa Hiro, the now identified wife of Hanazawa, is pulling the strings in the background to prevent Yuusaku from becoming a flag bearer.

This then makes us wonder why these two parents have such contrasting expectations for their only son.  It makes me think back to my theory that Yuusaku was a pretty poor solider and lacked any skill or potential.  Long ago, Tsurumi told Nikaido that Ogata is the ‘true heir’ of Hanazawa inheriting his military and [some] leadership skills as he stood on the watch tower in Barato ordering the random gangsters how to fight effectively.  Yuusaku is a disappointment for Hanazawa - he can only save face by having his son become such a symbolic part of the army.

I laughed at the next page where Kikuta confirms that Hiro is colluding with the young heiress to steal Yuusaku’s virginity and thus preventing him from becoming a flag bearer.  I love the posture of the terrified Yuusaku!

However, Hiro’s plan has been found out by Hanazawa and he consulted with the leader of the 1st Division to assist him with resolving this unpatriotic and embarrassing issue.  Recall that Ogata was born as a result of Hanazawa being posted to Tokyo - this implies that he likely became good friends with the leader of the 1st Division during this time.

To prevent anyone from identifying Sugimoto, he’s the perfect substitute for Yuusaku and changes into Kikuta’s uniform.  He’s one of those guys who just has that look.  Sugimoto immediately thinks that since he’s been treated well by Kikuta, joining the military might be a good way to find security - in food.  However, we get a link of the cap to Kikuta and what appears to be his dying younger brother.

Kikuta looks so sad, like there is something unfortunate with Sugimoto’s statement of food.  We don’t get to see his expression, indicating he’s likely hiding his emotions from Sugimoto and instead tells Sugimoto he’s going to have to train him in food etiquette.

He’s presented with some Western cuisine, something that may blow his cover and something that Kikuta didn’t expect as he watches from a tree outside.  But again, due to his extreme luck, he’s able to use nervousness as an excuse and it gives him time to state his family his super traditional so they wouldn’t have eaten food like this.  When he’s removed the cap, Kaneko Kaeko is smitten with his handsome face. He can use his excuse as a way to have an out for not knowing how to eat that tasty ebi fry (why to I hear ‘ebi fry’ in Nyanko-sensei’s voice?).

As she explains the fancy places she’s dined at, Sugimoto thinks about how he was living off of cat food.  Cue another reason why he just hates on Ogata, since he was stealing food from Ogata’s people! 

The rest of the dinner goes well, and Kikuta checks in with him.  Meanwhile, our wealthy heiress is completely smitten with him!

As Sugimoto mulls over the idea of a somewhat arranged marriage as a negative he spills the beans about Toraji and Umeko.  And Kikuta isn’t having any of his bullshit.  I love how Kikuta points out how selfish and downright stupid Sugimoto is being in all of this.  Kikuta gives Sugimoto good advice - which he’s clearly still never followed.

He makes it clear that he’s got to give up on that hometown and move on.  Which will be completely ignored as Toraji will end up in the 1st Division with Sugimoto in the trenches.  I’m now wondering how Toraji and Sugimoto reconnected.  Hrrrmmmmm?  Is this something that Sugimoto encouraged and that’s why he has all of these unresolved emotions about Toraji’s death in the war?

The chapter reveals to us that Tsukishima’s love ended up marrying the cousin of Kaeko, making Tsukishima’s acceptance of her ‘death’ even more heartbreaking as he thought that Tsurumi had lied to him about her fate.  [weeps bitterly]. 

As Kikuta and Sugimoto discuss what appears to be Yuusaku’s lack of a free will, he’s told not to meddle in others concerns.  What does Sugimoto do? The man just can’t keep to himself and he goes and finds Yuusaku to confront him.  He wants to know if Yuusaku wants to be a flag bearer even though it is a death sentence.  How does that conversation go? Just how we’d expect with all of the information we know about Yuusaku.

I love how he’s like it isn’t to meet my father’s expectations!  It is because understand my father’s convictions and fight for my country.  Okay, you keep telling yourself that Yuusaku, but it still sounds like you are doing this for your father, you know tomay-to, tomah-to.  Sugimoto mulls over what Yuusaku would choose if given the choice.  I just sigh as we know enough about Yuusaku’s backstory that the man only does what his father says - with great conviction. All of our Ogata flashbacks have made this so clear, Yuusaku is a doomed man from the moment he entered the army.  Maybe even a doomed man from his birth even.  Perhaps, he’s acutely aware of this, but based on how freakkin’ awkward he’s with Ogata and his older brother actions, I continue to think he’s not the brightest bulb in the pack and can only be used as a patriotic pawn.

Yuusaku then becomes suspicious of Sugimoto’s line of inquiry and realizes that he’s got Kikuta’s cap.

Not sure how to respond, he runs away and we learn that Kikuta’s younger brother died of illness during the first Sino-Japanese war.   That same war that killed Koito’s older brother and that Tsurumi and Tsukishima fought in as well. With the statement of illness, I know what most likely killed Kikuta’s younger brother - malnutrition - specifically beri beri.  As the Japanese military rapidly modernized using European models, they ran into an issue with many soldiers and sailors dying of some sort of mysterious illness and it wasn’t something that impacted the Westerners at all.  Most of this has to do with the ability to eat white rice which was much more processed.  It made it more expensive, but was nutritionally bad for men who came from lower incomes or poverty.  Remember how stoked Asirpa was when she ate white rice all the way back at the herring fishery?  If anyone has read “House of Five Leaves” by Natsume Ono, you’d know the protagonist is a poor ronin and he falls ill due to beri beri.  The solution was to return to the countryside/hometown to eat a more diverse diet.  For a more detailed explanation of how bad this was for the Japanese military check out the video by Linfamy on youtube here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzIBpFDRr5g

The video even highlights the fierce (and counterproductive) competition between the Army and Navy which has already been well defined through Koito’s backstory. The chapter ends with Sugimoto dropping the cap and the polite man who picks it up for him is Tsurumi with Ogata, Usami and Tsukishima in Tokyo. The plot thickens . . . somehow Sugimoto got mixed up in the business of the 27th and apparently Tokyo isn’t a vast city that you can get lost in and everyone knows everyone.  Like how I was on flight to Saskatoon and the man next to me started up a conversation how he was from Burlington and went to Guelph and my friend who I was going to visit was also from Burlington and went to Guelph it is a small world kinda moment and in agriculture.  I digress though.  Things are starting to pull back together but I’m still not 100% on with this plot direction/story arc.

[persepholline]

I've read that article about the romanticization of the Darkling and while I absolutely understand people who are pissed off/sad and I agree that it's shitty, I find LB's attitude towards Darkles stans very funny in a "girl what are you doing" sort of way because it's so petty like I've never heard of a bestselling author writing a portion of their fans into their books as a crazy cult before, it clearly hit a nerve

I'm new to the fandom but the feeling I get is she wrote something problematic ten years ago and became very embarrassed about it afterwards so she turned on the fans that liked it as a way to absolve herself. Especially since fandoms in general have become a lot more focused on discussion of what constitutes healthy/acceptable relationships to write about. And in a way I get it I had a huge Twilight phase in high school and afterwards I was super embarassed about it because of how problematic and cringe it was. But now with distance and more maturity I'm able to both still see why it was problematic and also why I was drawn to it (mostly the very unhinged representation of female desire) and like...it's really not the end of the world and no it never made me believe that breaking into somebody's room at night to watch them sleep was actually ok in real life lmao. This feels so obvious to me but apparently it needs to be said.

(More under the break this is turning into an essay, I've been thinking of this a lot recently)

And of course it's good to have these discussions about how historically romance tropes have echoed social dynamics of men's shitty behavior being romanticized and excused. But these days they often are so simplistic and focused on chasing clout that they become this weird new puritanism and moral panic about oh now women are reading novels it's going to make them hysterical or something

So you have these weird assumptions that you can't like a character and also be critical of their actions, or enjoy certain parts of a character and not others, or wish they were written differently and like them more for their potential (which I'm sure stings a bit for an author lol) - it assumes that if you like a character it means you would approve of their actions in real life, or that people just stupidly reproduce whatever they see on TV. That tendency to treat fictional characters like real people is the thing that actually worries me, to be honest, because it indicates a lack of distance and critical capacities regarding how stories are used and received. But people - fans and authors - are so scared of being called out as problematic and harassed for it that they're going to shy away from any nuance.

And yeah I think that it's good that standards of what constitutes an ideal relationship are evolving and becoming more feminist and communicative and all that and we definitely need more of that. But not all fiction has to be aspirational! Sometimes you just want to read about fucked up shit, because it's cathartic or fascinating, even healing at times because with fiction you are absolutely in control and can choose when to close the book. Toxic relationships in fiction can have an appeal specifically because they go to extremes of feeling that we don't want to go to in reality, in exactly the same way as horror movies or very violent action movies - which I don't see a lot of people besides fundamentalist Christians argue that they turn you into violent psychopaths (and that feels very obviously sexist). And for women, who are often taught growing up that love is the purpose of life, the "saving someone with your ability to love" can be a power fantasy in the same way that being a buff superhero who saves the day with their capacity for incredible violence can be a power fantasy for men. Still doesn't mean those women are going to fall in love with actual murderers or that those men are going to start beating up people at night. And love is scary, and weird, and weirdly close to horror at times, with all the potential for loss of self and being vulnerable and overwhelming feelings and potential for being horribly hurt and it should be possible for stories to explore that without anybody screaming about how this is going to Corrupt the Youth or something

And I mean I get it LB wanted to write a cautionary tale for teenagers, but it just did not work for reasons a lot of people have already written about - the fact that the Darkling is the leader of an oppressed minority and is the only one with a real political agenda to end that oppression in the first trilogy, the fact that he helps Alina come into her own power while her endgame LI is someone she keeps herself small for, that she's shamed for wanting power after growing up without any, a generally very wonky conception of privilege, and a lot of other stuff with yucky regressive implications to the point where stanning the villain actually feels liberating and empowering which is a surefire sign that the narrative is broken (unless it's a villain focused story lmao). But of course that Fanside article makes almost no mention of the political dynamics, it's all about interpersonal stuff which is an annoying trend in YA, there are those massive events happening in the background but it's made all about the feelings of the hero(ine) ; war as a self-development quest (which is kind of gross). Helnik is kind of an example of this too - I like them, I think they're fun ! But Matthias spends a big part of the story wanting to brutally murder Nina and her kind, and he mostly changes his mind because he finds her hot. Like you don't feel there is some sort of big revelation that his entire moral system and political framework is completely rotten ; it's all better because of feelings now.

As a teenager that kind of sanctimonious bullshit would have annoyed the hell out of me ; I read those books in my early twenties and I found the ending so stupid I wouldn't have trusted any message or life lessons coming from them. And I liked reading/watching dark stuff as a teenager, as a way to deal with the very intense inner turmoil I was dealing with - and I turned out fine ! Meanwhile I've seen several times women in very shitty relationships being obsessed with positive energies and stories ; they were so terrified of their life not being perfectly wholesome they ended up being delusional about their own situations.

Like personally I think the Darkling is a compelling, interesting, alluring character and also a manipulative, murderous piece of shit and that Alina should get to punish him (like in a sexy way) - but he's also the end result of centuries of war, oppression and trauma and reducing that to "toxic wounded boy" feels kind of offensive ngl ESPECIALLY since the books don't offer any kind of systemic analysis or response to oppression beyond "the bad guy should die" and "now the king/queen is a good guy our problems are solved!!!!"

In Lives of the Saints, we see how Yuri is abused extremely badly and almost killed by his father, and so when his father dies when the Fold swallows Novokribirsk, he thinks the Starless Saint has saved him. Later in KoS/RoW he's turned into this fanatic who explains away all the Darkling's crimes. The other followers talk about how the Starless Saint will bring equality for all men. Then the Darkling comes back and actually thinks his followers are pathetic, which feels again like a very pointed message to his IRL stans. Which is absolutely hilarious to me. Like oh no, if he was real he would not like you and think you're pathetic ! Yeah ...but he's not. Real. Damn right he would not like the fics where Alina puts him on a leash. I'm still going to read them. What is he going to do about it, jump out of the page ? Jfjfjjdhfgfjfj

Anyway I think the intended message is "assholes will use noble political causes for their own gain and to manipulate people" and "being abused/oppressed is not an excuse to behave badly." Which. Sure. But that's kind of like...a tired take, honestly ? A big number of villains nowadays are like this ; either they've been bullied as kids, or they're part of an oppressed group, or they have "good ideals but too extreme". This is not surprising because a lot of mainstream heroic narratives present clinging to the status quo as Good and change as chaotic and dangerous. And like sure in real life people often do bad shit because they're wounded and in danger. But if you want to do a story like that, you have to do it with nuance, talk about cycles of violence, about how society creates vulnerable people to be exploited, about how privilege gives you more choices and the luxury of morals, etc. The Grishaverse does not have this level of nuance (maybe in SoC a little bit but definitely not in TGT). So it kind of comes off as "trauma makes you evil" and "egalitarianism is dangerous" and "if you're abused/oppressed you're not allowed to fight back". And ignores the fact that historically, evil generally comes from unchecked privilege.

I guess my point is that there are many things I like about LB's writing, she knows how to create these really exciting character dynamics, and the world she has created is fascinating. But these stories are not a great starting point for imparting moral lessons. And her best characters tend to be, at least in canon, the morally grey ones. I hope one day she'll be at peace with the fact that she wrote the Darkling the way she did and leave his fans alone but in the meantime I'm just not going to take this whole thing seriously I'm sorry

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| TWELVE (FINALE)

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin taeyong. swearing, major character death, gunshot wound, blood mentioned, grieving 

WORD COUNT: 4,6K

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN 

You groaned as, once again, you awoke sick for the fourth day.

It had been impossible to keep your breakfast down of late, and more often than not you spent most of the morning with your head in a bucket. You blamed the one week old pizza you had a week before.

That morning, Donghyuck made you your favourite breakfast before leaving with Jeno and you couldn't even have a bite. You were going to throw up again.

“Love, did I leave my phone here? I can't find it anywhere…” You heard him.

Another wave of nausea caught you, and you threw your head into the toilet. You coughed, tears in your eyes as the voice got closer. The dry heaving was almost more unpleasant than the vomiting, you lamented, leaving your throat sore and your voice hoarse.

“I am not dressed yet!” You called, not technically lying, as your pajamas clung to your body with sweat.

“I think we are past all that,” he laughed, pushing the door open.

You adjusted your pajasm as he searched, sensing the rush he was in from his near ignoring of you. "I swear I left it here before I took a shower."

He finally found it atop the mantlepiece, and turned to make a comment on it, when he noticed your appearance.

“Good god, are you okay?”

“Fine. A little nauseous, is all.”

He rushed over to you

“I think I have the stomach flu, perhaps. Stay back.”

“I likely already have it, if it is that,” he smiled. “So there is no further harm.”

"Seriously," you whined. "I don't want you to get sick."

"Are you sure you're okay? You look palid," he cupped your face.

You nodded. "Go. Jeno must be waiting for you."

Donghyuck sighed and placed a kiss on your forehead. "If by tomorrow you don't look better I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Your body ached, more so than when you were PMSing. But not every month was the same, so you thought the pill was doing its secondary effects. You grabbed your birth control pill case and before taking it, you checked your last case and realised you missed a few. You cursed.

You stared at the rows upon rows of pregnancy tests. Did women actually know which one to take? Was it common knowledge knowing which one was the best? You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You were probably overreacting. You grabbed the pink one off the shelf. It wasn’t the cheapest one, but it was a brand you remembered from commercials. You stopped by the snack stand and picked up a bar of your peanut butter and chocolate. You always hated peanut butter. Shit. You dropped the bar chocolate and sat down on the counter. The woman at the checkout rang them through and gave you the total.

You held up your bank card, “Credit.”

She nodded and pressed the button. You inserted the card into the machine, went through the motions of inputting your password and checking the account type.

“Would you like a bag?” The woman asked as you waited for the transaction to clear.

You shook your head, “No thank you.”

She handed you the two items and the receipt. You dropped them down into your purse. You exited the drug store and stood on the street corner for a minute. You couldn’t do this alone. You needed some guidance. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted Lena.

Can I call you? You pressed send and began walking home.

You recounted the last few times you and Donghyuck had sex. You ran your fingers through your hair, so many times. Your phone rang in your hand and Lena's caller ID showed up.

You smiled, “Hey girl.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” She cut right to the chase.

You thought about lying, just to spite her but you two knew each other so well that it wasn’t a surprise that she’d picked up on your worries early on.

“I bought a test.” You explained.

She squealed into the phone and you had to pull it away while she freaked out. You laughed at her reaction. Your nerves settle the tiniest bit. She already had Minah. She knew exactly what to expect. You unlocked your front door and lined it for the couch.

“Ok.” She settled in as you entered your house, “Take the test right now.”

You shook your head, “Isn’t it better to take it in the morning? I swear I heard that somewhere before.”

“Pff if you’re pregnant it doesn’t matter what time of day you take the test.” She explained.

You rolled your eyes, of course she knew best, she was a doctor and a mom after all.

“How am I supposed to pee on a stick and hold the phone at the same time?” You joked.

You heard a door shut on her end, “Put the phone down, pee on the stick and come back.”

You groaned. What if you really were pregnant? You were happy but scared at the same time. This wasn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with.

“Alright.” You said.

You placed the phone down on the table and pulled the test out of your purse. You went into the bathroom, ripped the box open, ignored the instructions and made sure that the bristles were in place. You frowned, this was almost as awkward as peeing in a cup.

You placed the phone down on the table and pulled the test out of your purse. You went into the bathroom, ripped the box open, ignored the instructions and made sure that the bristles were in place. You frowned, this was almost as awkward as peeing in a cup. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt weird about the whole thing. Lena was willingly waiting for you to pee on a stick. You set the test on the corner of the sink, finished your business and pulled up your pants. You pushed the cap over the bristled part of the test and then washed your hands. You grabbed the instructions and test as you went back to the living room. You glanced at the clock. It was only 10:30 in the morning. Donghyuck wouldn’t be home for another few hours.

You picked up the phone, “It’s done.”

“Yay!” Lena laughed. “Have you thought about how you’re going to tell Donghyuck?”

You shrugged, “No. I don’t even know if this is real yet. I could just be overreacting.”

“You wouldn’t have called me if you thought this was a false alarm.” She stated.

You groaned, “Ugh.”

Why was she always right? She laughed again. She distracted you with mindless prattle while you waited the three minutes for the test to finish. You left it sitting on the coffee table, upside down because you still didn’t know if you were prepared for the outcome.

“Three minutes.” Lena announced.

You took a deep breath and gingerly picked up the test. You flipped it over and creased your eyebrows in confusion.

“Uh – it has one solid line and one really faint one.” You told her.

You pulled out the instructions pamphlet and began scanning through. It mentioned that two solid lines mean pregnant but it made no mention of a solid first line and faint second one. Were all the tests this finicky?

“That’s exactly what it looked like when I was pregnant with Minah.” She advised.

You shook your head, “This doesn’t make any sense. The booklet distinctly says that you have to have two solid lines. Not one solid and one barely there.”

She chuckled at your denial, “Y/N you’re pregnant.”

“That’s not what the booklet says!” You fought back.

“You’re pregnant.” Lena said again.

You paused and then all the excitement of being pregnant caught up with you. Tears formed at your eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered. “I'm pregnant!” You screamed. “Oh my god. Oh my god! How am I going to tell Hyuck?"

“Do something cute, like put the test in a pan and put the pan in the oven.” Lena offered, “Symbolically tell him you have a ‘bun in the oven.’”

You burst into laughter, “Isn’t that sort of stuff reserved for people planning on these things? This wasn’t exactly on our list of to-dos.”

You both broke into giggles. This was absurd and exhilarating all at once. You never expected to ever be a parent. It wasn’t something you thought you had in you. Now that you were pregnant, and with Donghyuck, you’d never felt more ready. The two of you could do this.

You took a deep breath and then blew it out through tight lips, “He’s not going to be home until after 7. I can’t wait that long.”

“Mull it over. He loves you, remember that.” She gave me a minor pep talk, “Oh, and guys handle these things differently. Don’t forget that.”

You nodded, “Alright. Thanks Lena.”

“No problem. You have to call me and tell me how he reacts.” She demanded.

I laughed at her, “I will.”

“Alright girl, I’ve got to go. I’ve been paged five times now.” She spoke swiftly and then hung up.

You dropped your phone down onto the coffee table and turned the TV on. You had no idea how you were going to tell Donghyuck. This was definitely not something either of you had talked about.

(...)

He’d been home for at least an hour now. The two of you were just sitting on the couch, watching TV. You couldn’t concentrate on the show because there was so much going on in your mind. Your face was hot and a blush was covering your entire body. You had no idea why but you felt embarrassed. You hadn’t even said or done anything yet. The tension in your body was building and you were starting to freak out. What if he had a horrible reaction? You never did talk about this. It wasn’t in the plans. Shit! You needed to get out of your head. You couldn’t start making things up. He didn’t even know yet. You tucked your feet underneath you and cradled the throw cushion into your stomach. You felt safer, almost like you were hiding your secret.

“Baby…” You murmured.

He glanced over at you, “Yeah.”

“We need to talk.” You said, immediately regretting your choice of words.

Now he probably thought you were breaking up with him. How did other people do this? This was the hardest conversation you’d ever had to have in your life. He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to speak. You opened your mouth but stopped. You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was thudding in your chest and the adrenaline soared through your body.

"(Y/N)?" Donghyuck kept staring at you. "What is it?"

"Uhm..." you scratched the back of your neck. "I, I don't want to eat shrimp in our wedding."

He stared at you for a couple of seconds. "That is it?" You nodded, swallowing. "Baby, we can eat whatever we want in our wedding."

You hated yourself for lying to him. "I just... heard you say to Jeno you really love shrimp and I don't, so..."

"I don't really mind, love," he pecked you. "If you want to have tacos, then we'll have tacos."

You smiled. "Okay."

"Okay." He kissed you.

You couldn’t do it. You were too nervous.

(...)

You were all together in the cabin you rented, sitting around the coffee table filled with food and drinks.

“So, when's the wedding?” Jaemin asked, having a sip of his beer.

“Uh we still haven't set a date, but I hope it's soon,” Donghyuck replied and smiled.

“Hurry up before my baby bump starts showing!” Lena laughed. "And others things too." She glanced at you. You ignored her.

“Are you pregnant again?” Taeyong looked at her.

She nodded. "Yup, baby number two is coming next winter."

"Hey, congrats," Jaemin smiled. "I bet Hoseok is thrilled."

"He is, he wants twins," Lena rolled his eyes. "As if one wasn't enough."

Donghyuck giggled. "I'd love to have twins one day."

"You see, (Y/N)? Give him babies soon!" Lena smiled.

You rolled your eyes and Donghyuck put an arm around your shoulder. "We'll have kids as soon as we get married."

"You don't even hate a date yet," Jaemin mocked him.

You didn't know when Jaemin and Donghyuck became so close that they would bicker jokingly so often. And you found it funny, but that day you were nervous because you had to tell him you were pregnant. He deserved to know.

Taeyong tilted his head to the side, examining you. You looked different, your body seemed different. And the way you wouldn't look Donghyuck in the eye he could tell you were hiding something.

Then he knew. You were pregnant.

Later that night, you were doing the dishes when Taeyong showed up in the kitchen. He smiled at you as he poured  some water in a glass. He stood next to you, leaning against the counter. “How long are you?”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him.

He cocked his head cutely, smiling. “If I’m not wrong you’re pregnant, right?”

You sighed and nodded. “How did you know? Did Lena tell you? I’m gonna kill her.” You hissed.

Taeyong chuckled and shook his head. “I had a slight suspicion since the last time I saw you.”

You pressed your lips together. “6 weeks.”

“And… are we happy?” He rested his hand on yours.

“I am, I’m just nervous,” you let out an awe sigh. “I know he’s gonna be all happy, but still, it’s unexpected.”

“You’ll be fine.” Taeyong assured you. “Everything will be fine.”

“Promise?”

“When have I ever lied to you?” He cocked an eyebrow.

You giggled. “Never.”

“See?” Taeyong smiled. “Come here.” He pulled you close to him and hugged you. “I’ll always be by your side.”

(...)

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” Jaemin asked.

Donghyuck's eyes lit up, “There are several things we could do, how physical would we like to get?”

There was an extremely varied pool of answers. Jaemin and Donghyuck wanted it to be as extreme as they could get. You seemed anxious about what ‘physical’ would entail as physical usually also corresponded with danger.

Taeyong thought for a moment before recommending, “Why don’t we go down to the lake? It can be as low key or high key as people want, and there are some very pretty places nearby if people would not like to participate in the lake.”

Jaemin nodded, “Sounds fine to me.��

Lena whispered something to you and when they nodded Donghyuck's eyes lit up, “we're in as well.”

The next morning , you decided to make sandwiches for your trip later in the day while everyone cleaned up from breakfast, and then everyone left to go get dressed. Donghyuck put on their bathing suit underneath so he could easily change in and out of it, and grabbed their pair of sunglasses. He went out to the main area of the cabin to gather up the towels.

Taeyong arrived a few moments later, he had a sunhat on with round black sunglasses on. "Is everyone ready?"

Jaemin nodded. "We better go!"

The walk down to the lake was surprisingly calm, it was still morning and the birds were chirping, hidden in the trees, and the occasional butterfly would flutter across their path. The lake was stunning when you arrived. It was a large tranquil body of water which seemed to absorb the sun to show every possible shade of blue, and reflected it at just the right points so the ripples glinted and gleamed.

Donghyuck immediately tore off his shirt and sprinted for the dock as Jaemin and Taeyong followed him. Lena and you sat on the edge of the dock.

In the field there was laughter and joy, the three of them wove crowns and bracelets for each other.

"Why haven't you told him yet?" Lena queried.

You shrugged. "Becuase I'm dumb."

"Yeah, I know," she giggled. "You need to tell him before he realises it."

You sighed. "I'm gonna do it tonight."

She smiled. "Finally!"

"It's so cold." you said hugging yourself tighter.

Donghyuck grinned, scrunching his nose. "If you get in the water you'll get warm."

You rolled your eyes again. "You're not getting me into the lake."

Donghyuck pouted. "You sure, love?" He asked, batting his eyes.

You crossed your arms nodding your head. You didn't notice the way his arms snaked around your legs, having a slightly good hold on you. "I hoped you'd say that." Donghyuck had an evil smile on his face, causing you to look confused.

"I didn't say any- ahh!" Before you knew it, you were pulled into the lake.

When you broke to the surface Donghyuck was already waiting for you. You moved the hair from your face and glared at him. "Hyuck!" You yelled slamming your fists into the water. Donghyuck broke into a laughing fit. You glared at him, crossing your arms and turning away with a small 'Hmph!' Donghyuck was still laughing just a bit, before swimming up behind you. "Aw come on love, you can't be mad at me." He said wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. You weren't mad, but you wanted to tease him a bit. "Let go off of me."

"No," you felt him smile on your shoulder before he kissed it.

You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you." He kissed your cheek. "I love you more than anything, you know?"

"I know," you smiled, caressing his arms . "But I like when you say it."

"I love you," he turned you and kissed you. "I can't wait for you to have my babies."

"Hyuck..." You looked at him. "You need to know something."

"What is it?" He stroked your cheek.

You opened your mouth but Jaemin called you two interrupted. You shook your head. "Let's go before he goes crazy. I'll tell you later."

"Alright, love."

(...)

"Please repeat again why did we need your private jet to come all the way here, Taeyong?" Lena questioned him.

"It was an 8 hour ride. I was not going to drive," He shrugged.

Jaemin laughed. "I could've drove."

"You're not the best at driving," you teased and everyone laughed.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," Jaemin rolled his eyes.

You all were in a suv on your way to the hangar where Taeyong's private jet was. You were coming back to the city after spending a few days out of town.

You didn't tell Donghyuck that you were pregnant since you weren't alone and when you have time for yourselves, he fell asleep. So you decided to tell him as soon as you two were home. It would be better.

After you arrived at the hangar destination, you got off of the car and grabbed your belongings. All of you went to the airstrip where the jet was already waiting for you. Everyone started to board the plane when Donghyuck let go off your hand. You looked at him. "I think I left my wallet in the car. I'll be right back."

"I'm gonna wait for you here," you say nicely.

He nodded and walked back in the hangar where the black suv was. He found his wallet underneath the pilot's seat and took it. He started walking towards the plane again and smiled when he saw you on the staircase. God, he was so in love with you.

A deafening sound echoed in his ears.

He blinked.

Donghyuck could you see running towards him - almost in slow motion - you were mouthing something and staring at him with fear, pain and… shock in your eyes.

Why were you shocked?

The right side of his chest felt sticky, and cold but warm in the middle. Weirdly warm. But it was not warm, it was hot and it hurt. Not like a punch. It was more like a pinch, that was blossoming into a cramp - a horrible, numbing cramp.

He was feeling light-headed and the cramp in his chest was getting worse. You were getting closer, but the distance between you two was considerable.

Another bang reached his ears a second later, it was loud, deafening, it made his ears ring. He stepped, no, stumbled to the side. Turning his head to see you, the look of acknowledgement and horror on your face.

He felt his blood on his hands, the heat and pain building up in his chest, the warmth of the sun seeping into his back. His knees gave way and he started falling backwards as his hand stretched out towards you.

His head hit the pavement with a startling thud and it felt strangely numb, he could hear you yelling for an ambulance. He blinked, closed his eyes for a second and suddenly you were there above him. You were cradling his face, saying something, tapping his face too hard.

"Hyuck!"

"-pen your eyes!"

"Come on Hyuck Please! Don't do this!"

"Babe, love, Donghyuck! You're okay, you're alright, you're gonna be fine. Please stay with me."

His back arched and he tried to curl onto his side and make the pain go away. His blood was still pouring out of him like a grotesque tap that couldn't be turned off.

"I-I love s-so m-uch. Y-you're t-the b-est t-thing t-that happened t-to m-me" He rambled.

"Don't do that. Don't say goodbye," you spoke, your voice cracking as a few stray tears fell from your eyes.

The blood that was coating his throat started clogging it instead and he couldn't breathe.

"You are going to be fin-" he choked

"It won't" You cut him off. "Hyuck, please. I'm pregnant, we're gonna have a kid. You're gonna be a dad. The best."

He tried to smile and looked at you weakly. "Take c-care o-of t-them, okay? I-I l-love yo-"

He was cut off by the blood in his throat that he coughed out onto his chin. The pain was spreading everywhere and numbing his brain.

And he took his last breath. He was smiling up at you.

“No. No! I’m not losing you! Donghyuck! I just got you! I'm not losing you! I’m not losing you… I’m not losing you.” You cried as you frantically shook him trying to bring him back to life but to no avail.

He was gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to marry Donghyuck and raise your kid together. And two stray bullets weren't supposed to have struck in your fiancé's chest.

You weren't supposed to be trembling in front of the small white tombstone etched with the name Lee Donghyuck, but it was happening anyway.

You just wanted him to hold you; to tell you that everything happens for a reason, as he always did. You imagined him wrapping his arms around your waist like he always had, the way you now held yourself, alone.

Furiously wiping the tears from under your eyes,you began to make your way to your real destination from the graveyard. As you opened the door to the small doctor’s office, she gave you a soft sympathetic smile.

“Come on in, let’s see how your little bean is holding up.”

You nodded, sitting on the sturdy table for examinations in the back of the small office. You didn’t really notice the colors on the walls anymore, your eyes skipping over the medical tools meticulously lined up in the doctor’s preference of order.

You were four months along.

“Everything seems to be going well with the baby. But Y/N, you know that you need to eat more. It isn’t safe.”

Safe. That word didn’t seem real to you anymore.

“Are you hearing me? Please, I don’t like you living alone.”

You nodded. "I'll try."

(...)

Time went on. You were slowly running out of tears to cry around the eight month of your pregnancy. You still stopped by the graveyard to say hello to Donghyuck.

When she got back to your house, you found Taeyong parking outside. He had always been kind to you, respecting your space and distance.

“Hey you,” he greeted you smiling.

"Hi," you greeted back.

"I brought you some lunch."

You smiled politely. "Let 's go inside. I'm cold."

You got inside your house and went to the kitchen. Taeyong placed the food containers on the table. "How's the baby?"

"They're fine," you smirked. "Although I get heartburns very easily."

He nodded. "I'm glad you're doing better."

You sighed. "I'm... trying."

"And you know I'm here to help."

"I know."

You suddenly let out a low groan. He turned to you abruptly. “Are you okay, is the baby alright?” Taeyong, with a panicked look on his face.

“Umm, I think...I think I’m having contractions.”

It took a minute for this to process with him. "Okay, okay.. Okay, I'm gonna take you to the hospital? Okay?"

You nodded. "Is too soon, oh My God."

(...)

Taeyong ran his hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time as he paced in the waiting room.

He glanced down the hall where he knew your room was. He got called by a nurse. He went to your room and saw you connected to a lot of medical stuff and his heart ached.

You were in pain and when you saw him, you reached for his hand. Taeyong, grabbing your hand not even caring about your tight grip as he kissed your head, sweat be damned.

“(Y/N) ...it’s almost time for you to push, waiting any longer will mean an even greater risk for your baby.”

You nodded but let out a shuddering breath.

As nurses started coming into the room, he pressed another kiss to your head.

“You can do this.” He whispered.

Minutes later, you began to push.

He looked back at the baby girl. She was beautiful. And so small.

Taeyong looked up.

“She’s a fighter, just like his dad..”

Tears filled your eyes again.

Taeyong knew he wouldn't go anywhere, not since he had you all from himself and had gotten rid of Donghyuck.

He smiled, holding the baby. He was a dad.

Alternate ending is finally here !!

[bonsai62]

Part 1: The Compatibility between Pisces and Capricorn

Hello everyone! Today, since I am hella bored and have nothing to do this fine evening, I am going to talk about the relationship between our two boys; Yuji and Megumi and how much they represent their signs so much.

Before I get started, I am not going to talk about their sex life even though it’s kinda important if you are into astrology, however, for this case I won’t because both of them are minors. But if you want to read more about their comparability then be my guess and look at the underline links. I will provide links in the discussion so you can have a better understanding on how the signs are and use manga pages for you to visually see it.

Also, excuse my English. I am very bad at it! Even though it’s my first language I still have lots of errors in my writing!

Also beware of manga spoilers too!!

Let’s get started on this very long essay!

Traits of a Pisces: Itadori Yuji

Positive: Compassionate (top), empathetic (middle), & creative (bottom)

We also have: Warm/gentle, caring, intellectual, animal lover, and romantic

Here we have the positive side of a Pisces and let me tell you it screams Yuji so damn much. Yuji is such a compassionate guy. I don’t think I have never seen a character who is very compassionate like Yuji (I have but we are talking about Yuji here lol). He can empathize with a whole lot of people and no matter what the situation is he understands. Yuji doesn’t need to have the same experience as someone because he can feel and get in their head to make him understand what their going through. Which brings me to that he has a really high empathy level when it comes to people (I can relate a lot because I have the same thing). However, having a lot of empathy isn’t all that’s cracked up to be but I’ll talk about it soon.

A Pisces is also very creative and they love hobbies. One of Yuji’s favorite hobbies is, I have a feeling is sports but that just based on what his old school thought of him + the baseball game. Plus cooking! Cooking is an amazing hobby and it lets you get creative with your hands and skills! I like to imagine that he is the best cook throughout the school and loves to share with his classmates and have them rate his cooking lol! Cooking is also a relief of stress so I can also imagine him having a bad day and just ends up being in the kitchen.

Now....

Negative: Overly emotional (top), impressionable (bottom), closed off (middle)

I messed up the order lol

We also have: melancholy, lazy, stubborn, moodiness, etc

Yuji is a very emotional person. We have seen him at his best and at his worse. He is such an emotional person that he felt bad for killing Choso’s brothers. His emotions gets the best of him when Junpei died, Megumi was hurt, seeing what Sukuna has done in Shibuya, and Nanamin/Nobara getting destroyed by Mahito. It’s an unhealthy feeling because we’ve seen Yuji get distracted with his injured friends and him kinda fucking up on his fighting. Another unhealthy trait that Yuji had is not talking about himself. We’ve seen him not talk about his feelings and I mean personal deep feelings that’s always going to be in the back of his head. Like when Megumi knows that something happened to Yuji but Yuji simple doesn’t want to talk about and closes it. He doesn’t really like talking about himself and rather hear other people/helping other people rather than face his own demons. If he’s facing his own demons, he rather be doing it on his own.

I also want to point out that many people think that he gets over people’s death hella easily. No... that is not true whatsoever. The boy has been through so much trauma that eventually you just get so tired of crying about it and you don’t have the energy anymore, you eventually start telling yourself “it is what it is” or “what can I do now?”. Noabra is a perfect example. He didn’t need to cry because he had the biggest mental breakdown when it happened. So when he asked Megumi about her status... he just had to say “alright”.

In my theories... she is definitely alive. Again, Gege is playing half of you guys. She is gonna pop out in the next couple of chapters or even the one coming up next.

Another things that I find interesting in Yuji which according to the links I put, Pisces tend to trust people easily:

Ease of being cheated: A desire to see the best things in other people makes the Two Fish very impressionable individuals. They trust others without any suspicions and often suffer from their frivolity. Any pressure of stronger people is accepted as a command for them and they easily agree with them without any doubts.

For instant, Todo and Choso. Those two mf were about to kill him but they didn’t because of what Yuji’s mind fuck did (I know Gege sensei said that isn’t a theory but still it’s mind fuck lol) He instantly call Todo his best friend like I can hear Nobara (Big sis) twitching somewhere lol. Whenever I think of Yuji and Todo’s relationship, I think of Vinny and Paula D from Jersey Shore haha!

Any who, while trusting people isn’t a bad thing, you still don’t know what their intentions are and everything. It’s a very naive thing to do.

But I felt for Yuji and Choso... Yuji didn’t have much of a choice...

I would like to know what changed Yuji’s mind into staying with Choso. I’m curious how Yuji “trusted” being with Choso after everything that went down. Yuji is a very forgiving character too (minus Mahito). But now, I think we can see that Choso has no bad intentions towards Yuji because he “might” be his brother. And their so cute too!!

On to our other boy!

Traits of a Capricorn: Megumi Fushiguro

Positive: Resourcefulness (top), discipline/patient (middle: also thank @pantherbeamish for the photos!), and reliability (bottom)

We also have: Responsibility, loyalty, diligence, team player, etc

Megumi is a very interesting character. Whenever I see him I get more interested in him. He is exactly what you would describe a Capricorn. We have seen Megumi be resourceful when it comes understanding how curse energy works thanks to him. He is very detailed when it comes to explaining and also a very patient man when Yuji, who doesn’t know jack shit about the Jujutsu world. Never, not once, does Megumi call Yuji an idiot for not knowing all these things. That’s what makes him amazing because if it were other Shonen mangas, the “rival” would’ve called Yuji an idiot. The only time Megumi ever calls Yuji an idiot is when Yuji literally does or says something stupid. To me, that is normal and not being a dick about it because we all know that if we had a friend like Yuji we would’ve stared at him like “why are you like this...”

It’s me... I’m a lot like Yuji lol

But no, he is very patient and tries to explain everything to Yuji as best as he can. I have this thing where almost everyone relies on Megumi a lot because he’s a serious guy + very responsible with his tasks. We see Maki trusting Megumi too. Like the time when Megumi was hyping Yuji up saying he can beat everyone in the Kyoto school if they didn’t use curse energy (something like that lol). Yuji also can confirm himself that Megumi is very reliable. He mentioned it while back at the prison because both sibling duo thought they were lost.

Negative: Sensitivity (top), seriousness (middle), reservation (bottom)

We also have: Unforgiving, criticism, suspicion, pickiness, etc

Just like Yuji, we have seen Megumi’s negative side a lot but it’s simply because he’s sensitive and thinks logically. Sometimes, I also feel like he thinks through his heart as well but that’s just me. That is where the sensitivity comes along. Megumi is hella sensitive he doesn’t need to show it because you can feel it.

In the article:

Sensitivity: It is better not to offend Capricorns who are very sensitive people. They can’t stand being laughed at and remain serious in public but feel badly deeply in their souls. Even a minor joke can result in resentment from their side!

In many, many occasions we have seen everyone fucking around or getting on Megumi’s nerves, especially in our recent Jujustroll where Gojo is saying a bunch of nonsense and embarrassing tf out of Megumi. His seriousness gets in the way and that’s what makes him sensitive.

On the side note: I also wanted to add something. As I was reading a few articles, some mentioned that Capricorns are... bland. Please, Capricorns!! No me ataques! I just find it interesting that someone, like Todo, who thinks Megumi is boring. Todo honestly thought he was boring since he first asked him what was his type and while Megumi gave us the best answer, Todo expected something more fun. But no, it was boring. Also, Megumi lives a simple life. Now, I’m not saying that Megumi is boring because as a matter of fact I like how simple he is. He likes to keep things neutral. Personally, on his activities he is considered “bland” and honestly, I can see why but I would still go out my way to enjoy it with him if I was his significant other lol I also feel like he has a good sense of style in fashion. I’m saying that judging from the official arts + “Lost In Paradise” because in that ED Megumi be looking like a bowl of fruits. A bowl of snacks lmao!

But, anyways! Megumi is also reserved to himself. He does not like talking about himself at all (hon hon does that sound like someone?). He doesn’t open up to a lot of people but I kinda feel like he does with Gojo but that’s just because Gojo raised him and he just knows when Megumi is feeling a certain way. Also, I bet Gojo just knows when Megumi is having a bad day too. We witnessed him just being in his own bubble in the current arc that is happened in the anime. Yuji and Nobara calls him out about him being so reserved to himself. He does eventually tells them what is going on, but it takes a lot for a Capricorn to open up and it’s totally understandable. I feel as if you want a Capricorn to open up, you have to let them give you time for them to get to know you. Give them your intentions and put in the effort to make them trust you.

Now in to the fun part!!

1. Trust:

Positive:

Articles 1: They will often understand each other well enough to respect their relationship and keep it clear of dishonesty

I’m a use this imagine again btw because this speaks their relationship clearly

I think what I truly love about their relationship and love the idea of them being an endgame is the trust that they have for one another(even though someone is gonna die). They barely knew each other for 2 months and their chemistry is off the mf charts.

The picture above isn’t just them having an eye opening moment but the fact that they trust each other to save one another.

Megumi had saved Yuji so many time

Yuji had also saved Megumi so many times

Tbh, when I was thinking about Megumi coming in to save Yuji from Yuuta and Naoya, I thought it would be the same as when Yuji saved Megumi and Maki from Hanami, but we got something better. We got to see Megumi never doubting Yuji and always making sure that he gives him as many chances as he gives. I hope that sparks a realization for Yuji because sometimes I always felt that he doesn’t really acknowledges Megumi doing a whole lotta things for Yuji. I’m still complaining about it because if he can say “thank you, best friend” to Todo or “thank you, Kugisaki, for letting me know that I am not alone” to Nobara, then he should definitely see how much Megumi gives a fuck about him.

I expect a “thank for being by my side and never doubting me” for Megumi.

Articles 2: Pisces, who prefers to hand off important decision-making to dominant Capricorn, feeds into the goat’s need to be in control. On the flip side, Capricorn trusts Pisces to attend to its emotional needs—something that can be very difficult to allow at first.

This is interesting because a lot of the time Megumi is always making the plans and the choices. I feel like Yuji tends to rely on Megumi a lot because Yuji respects the way Megumi thinks (I’m not saying he doesn’t do that with anyone either).

Another thing is that:

“Capricorn trust Pisces to attend to its emotional needs-something that can be very difficult to allow at first”

I want to use Yuji asking Yuuta to kill him if Sukuna comes out especially for Megumi’s sake as an example of “emotional needs” because we see that Yuji does not want to be anywhere near Megumi because of Sukuna. In Yuji’s emotional state, he would rather have Yuuta kill him than Megumi. A lot of people also have this head canon that the reason why he asked Yuuta to kill him instead of Megumi is because Megumi already has a lot on his plate or something. I forgot the theory lol

But... I have a feeling that Megumi is gonna end up killing Yuji at the end because it should be him...

But yes,

Let’s see where things end with the current event that is happening now.

But unfortunately, I have to stop right here because Tumblr only allows 10 images in one post. Tragic!

I do hope you guys enjoy and please comment if I’m missing anything with them! Let’s hope I won’t take long with part 2 because I’m hella busy at times! Overall, tell me what you guys think!

[pokefarm-q]

firewolf1117 refuckingceipts (it's all been removed now but people archived it)

this bitch:

When you say “All Cops are”, here’s what you’re really saying:

All Blacks are Criminals All Mexicans are Illegal All Americans are stupid, fat, and lazy All Rape Victims are liars All Suicide Posters are Attention Seekers All Muslims are Terrorists All LGBT deserve to die

Are you outraged yet? GOOD.It means I touched a nerve.

You would never, ever, EVER say those things about those groups of people because you KNOW that it’s not true, even in the slightest. There are so very very FEW Cops who are actually corrupt and using their power and position inappropriately.

So what gives you the right to say the same about cops? COPS! Who are practically SOLDIERS! EVERY DAY their family lives with the fear that they won’t return. EVERY DAY they put their lives in danger to PROTECT you! They, as a whole, deserve your RESPECT!!! MOST ALL “Brutality” cases are from the CRIMINAL fighting, disrespecting, grabbing a weapon, etc. If you’d just COOPERATE AND BE RESPECTFUL you’d be treated FAIRLY!! Cops don’t have the time to sort things out. Their snap second decisions PROTECT them AND nearby Civilians. You can’t possibly understand the FEAR AND TERROR they hold EVERY SECOND of EVERY DAY! So don’t you DARE judge them for mistakes.

and here’s the response of one brave user, this legend, this badass mofo, who replied to their bullshittery and got banned for a day for posting in the whiny crybaby bitch’s journal without permission:

Replying to this, because FireWolf1117 is intentionally spreading misinformation and hate. I don’t care if the staff is going to tell me off for this — for once, I care a little more about setting this right than following the Journal rule.

First of all, United States cops are legally not required to save civilians. It’s not considered unconstitutional, according to the case Warren v. District of Columbia (444 A.2d. 1, D.C. Ct. of Ap. 1981). To keep it short, cops can literally see crimes being committed and decide not to intervene if they feel like it. This has been quite common among police departments if you (objectively) compare the police’s actions during BLM protests and anti-lockdown protests.

Anyways, let’s get to your generalizing logic. I have to agree with you on one thing: generalizing is bad. No group should be generalized because of some rotten apples. However, this doesn’t count for cops. Here’s why not:

The police force isn’t a marginalized group. A police officer is a profession. A job. Cops are public servants. They work for the state, for the civilians. And that’s why they need to be held accountable for any misconduct they commit. Which is, unfortunately, is objectively not the case. According to statistics from https://mappingpoliceviolence.org, 99% of United States cops who have killed citizens have not been criminally charged, because police departments literally protect officers from getting tried. Of the 750+ shootings done by police this year, only four cops are getting tried. So much for “there are only a few corrupt ones”. Black people are also way less likely to carry a weapon compared to White people, while Black people get shot by cops thrice as likely.

What’s more, because the police force is a profession, people can quit being a police officer. This doesn’t count for most of the groups you mentioned: Black people can’t stop being Black, Mexican people can’t stop being Mexican, Americans can’t stop being American (also you including Americans kinda makes you look embarrassing lol no offense), rape victims can’t be ‘unraped’, Muslims (or even just Arabs in general) can’t stop being perceived as Muslims (even Sikhs get seen as Muslims nowadays…) and LGBTI+ people can’t stop being LGBTI+ (unless they discover they’re not). Police officers can literally take their uniform off and be perceived as normal human beings. As soon as they are on duty and take on their uniform, a huge responsibility awaits them. A responsibility that has been abused by them to the point that marginalized people will hesitate before calling the police, fearing that the police will either come too late or escalate the situation. Cops aren’t endangering their own lives. They’re endangering the lives of those they’re supposed to protect. No good person would shoot a man in his back SEVEN times for being 'aggressive’. No good person who claims to protect and serve would kneel on someone’s neck for eight minutes while that person was cooperating with them. No good person would shoot a completely innocent woman in her sleep because they raided the wrong house. (BTW, Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still walking free as if nothing happened.) No good person would shoot a 12-year-old kid for having a toy gun. No good person would kill a man in his car for… picking up his ID to show it to the cop. Just because you cooperate, doesn’t mean that you’re safe.

Your logic is clearly flawed, because you judge cops on their personality, and not on the bigger picture. All cops are “bastards” not because we see all of them are evil killing machines that shoot people on sight — it’s because they contribute to an oppressive system, whether it’s directly or indirectly. It’s more than 'just a few cops’: the government wants bad laws to be enforced, the prison system is getting used as a business model, minorities are forced to live in poor socioeconomic areas on purpose BY the government, gentrification exists, multi billionnaires are exploiting low-class working people even more, there’s a damn pandemic that’s not being taken seriously… And guess who’s at the front of keeping the fragile capitalist system intact? Right. The police. The face of the government, that’s laughing at Black people, people of color, disabled people, LGBTI+ people… No good cop exists, even if they’re nice to everyone. Good cops who speak out against the abuse of other cops get fired, because the police departments don’t want the truth to be exposed. If you truly want to be someone who saves people’s lives, then stop being a cop and get a better job, like a firefighter, an EMT, a psychologist… Anything that isn’t completely corrupted.

Even during the recent BLM protests, cops are showing off their power. They escalate situations without provocation more times than BLM protesters start shit. Also cops are committing literal war crimes by using tear gas and other chemicals against civilians (IT GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION FOR FUCK’S SAKE). Not so protective now, aren’t they? The only thing BLM protesters have hurt are cops’ ego. Trust me, protesters being a little mean to cops won’t ever be as bad as all the innocent lives cops have taken and covered up.

I want to go on forever, because I have a lot more to say (such as why “All Lives Matter” is reactionary and racist, how the police force was formed in the first place, how the effects of slavery and colonialism are still being felt by Black people to this day, how and why 'riots’ can be 'justified’), but I’ll leave it at this. At least I got to give counterarguments to your points. Take care and educate yourself! (Tip: stop watching FOX News and Infowars if you do that, you’re going to develop brainrot! ;__;)

ladies and gentleman of the jury, as you can see, this user not only came into this argument prepared, but they were civil and had links (that aren’t links now oop soz). they gave this bitch plenty of opportunity to learn and grow from this without attacking her.

but your bet your ASS the poor little white girl went crying to her daddy about people ATTACKING HER and BULLYING HER FOR HER OPINIONS!!!! she uses her anxiety as a get out of jail free card CONSTANTLY, bitching and moaning about how, and these are directly quoting from HER own journal:

MAY 29, 2020

I log in to this game to have fun and escape the stresses and problems of real life. I do NOT want to be going about my business, and see “BLM” in someone’s Trainer Card, and have to deal with a surge of overwhelming emotions (whether positive or negative). I simply cannot handle the Anxiety that results.

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site. I understand you want to talk about them, and that’s fine. But out of respect for people like me, can you please do so in private with the people you know WANT to see and discuss it?

just admit you’re racist dude.

She uses CSS. SHE CAN FUCKING HIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S FUCKING CARDS. PEOPLE CAN TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE ON THEIR OWN DAMN PAGES. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU.

Also! You know she only put “whether positive or negative” to quell any hate she might’ve gotten because ANXIETY is usually not a positive emotion. There’s not even a positive CONNOTATION. and she hopes to be published by the end of the year lmfao yeah right.

and then, on JUNE 16, 2020:

I WAS going to make a post in response to the most recent announcement, but now I’m just too frazzled and upset about it. Still making a post. I’ll just be posting it off site so I can say things how I want to say them, and so I don’t have any in game repercussions.

Honestly, though. I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!! Because of this “decision”, I’m going to make one of my own. I am gone from this site until current affairs are resolved. Heck. Perhaps even after. I will NOT be a part of a site that allows…Ugh. NOT going to get into this here.

but like… she came back a month later lmao

OH AND!! Earlier this month on AUGUST 6, 2020 she posted this!

It really breaks my heart seeing derogatory remarks against Cops in people’s Trainer Cards. It’s upsetting that you feel that way, and even more so that you make your hatred so vehemently known.

Personally, I don’t know why any of those Cop comments are allowed. If someone had something in their Trainer Card against Religion, LGBT, or POC, I guarantee that statement would be removed. So why is it alright for people to make hateful, vile, disgusting remarks against Cops? Despite it being someone’s personal opinion, it’s still Hate Speech, and shouldn’t be allowed.

this bitch is part of the lgbt+ community. she’s part of a marginalized group.

The “"derogatory remarks”“ she’s talking about? #AllCopsAreComplicit #CopsStinky #AllCopsSuck

which brings us back to Exhibit A, ladies and gentlemen! Her equating #AllCopsAreComplicit and #CopsSTINKY to "All LGBT deserve to die” and a Shitton of other stereotypes. Well fucking done.

Despite bitching and moaning about I DONT WANNA SEE ANYTHING, despite there being ways she can fucking hide it HER DAMN SELF she chooses instead to bitch piss moan bitch piss moan bitch piss and fucking moan and then when someone calls her out on her genuinely harmful bullshit, pulls the wounded gazelle gambit, claims she’s being attacked, and puts in her Card that “anxiety attack! again! waaaah!” like anyone has a shred of sympathy left for her ugly ass. She can’t handle looking like the bad guy so she plays the anxiety card. She bitches about never having any friends, only depression and anxiety, and it’s like bitch no fucking wonder.

Both the top posts have been taken down, but the user who responded to her has gotten nothing but love for her mad courage in saying something when no one else dared.

Firefurrywolf made a halfassed apology (August 30, 2020) which I won’t go into but there is one line that sticks out to me because it’s such a goddamn lie:

When I state my opinion, I usually do so with grace and eloquence. I did not think about my actions this time.

… do you?

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site.

Do you… really?

I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!!

I don’t think so. You vile, disgusting, manipulative, obnoxious, PRETENTIOUS, racist, terfy bitch.

Oh, before I forget, yeah. Terf. She looks like one too. All over her insta. Gross.

NOVEMBER 19, 2019

My response to a LGBT post in one of my writing groups.

I don’t know most of these terms within the community. Don’t really care to know either, cause your preferences won’t change my feelings about who you are. I probably should, though, cause the Its and Xes really confuse me.

I knew I was a Demi-Ace for a few years. I’ve also known that I was Poly since I was early teens. But I’m also attracted to beauty and care more about who you are as a person than your preferences, so apparently I’m Panaesthetic as well?

Also firm believer of “True Love Knows NO Bounds”

Her journal got moved to 18+ because there was a post talking about sex. Might’ve even been alluding to rape. On a CHILDREN’S SITE. In her CHILD-FRIENDLY journal. It sat there for at least two months. TWO MONTHS. But I will not be posting that here, but it’s still there if anyone wants to snoop. All of this is public. Well, it was. But at least minors won’t be exposed to this histrionic little whiny whitey who is absolutely drowning in her white privilege.

Just because she changed her pfp from her face to a shitty drawing she did doesn’t hide the fact that she’s white, and the worst kind of person with little to no actual coping skills.

She claims to be an artist, a writer, all this, blah blah, but then why doesn’t she channel any of it into her work so she can get fucking better at them? She says she’s working on losing weight, so do that. Instead of shrieking and stomping your fucking feet like a toddler at the peak of their terrible two’s, throwing tantrum after fucking tantrum on a CHILDREN’S SITE about your shitty stances, go for a fucking walk. Punch a fucking punching bag. Literally anything else. You’ll feel better, you’ll lose weight faster, you’d be keeping your vitriol to your damn self and no one will “attack” you.

“Are you ourtraged yet? GOOD. It means I touched a nerve!”

She fucking wanted a reaction. But couldn’t handle it when she actually got one. I’m so embarrassed. Grow some fucking thicker skin, you’re older than I am. Grow a pair and shut the goddamn FUCK up.

For now, the evil is defeated, and I rest my fucking case.

[bondsmagii]

Lantern, maple, amber

thank you!

lantern: how did you meet your best friend? What were your first impressions of each other?

let’s just say I wrote a lot about a particular character, and Vestris enjoyed what I wrote about that particular character, and then we started following one another’s blogs and got talking (for eighteen hours a day on Skype). the first time we met irl was when I drove down to London and stayed with him for a week after we had known one another online for like, three months, and it all kicked off from there.

first impressions? I admired his commitment. I had StatCounter at the time and I watched him methodically go through every single page of my blog, which is impressive. then I thought he was insane, because even after seeing my cringe-inducing blog in all its glory he still wanted to talk to me. he is insane, by the way, though not over anything so comparitvely simple.

my enduring impression was that he was just as obsessive and unhinged as I am, and that he might be a good person to have adventures with. I was correct there, too. now we’re married.

maple: is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did?

I’ve dabbled in a lot of hobbies I’d like to go back to: theatre, music, etc. I really would like to get back into those things seriously, because I do love them. specifically I want to get serious about learning to play piano, and I’ve been saying this for years. it would be my dream to own a piano of my own and be able to play it whenever I felt like. there’s just a draw in me towards a piano; every time I see one I want to play it, like I have some body memory as to how to do so, but my actual memory can no longer remember the specifics of the pieces. it’s kind of like a missing part of me, and I’d love to rectify it.

amber: share an unpopular opinion that you may have.

the increasing trend I’ve seen on here of demanding “reparations” because you’re a minority whose ancestors were done dirty in the past is cringeworthy and in very poor taste. it’s not appropriate to guilt or demand things from people because your ancestors were done dirty. it’s embarrassing to watch and it honestly feels incredibly inappropriate -- like the entirety of that suffering is being appropriated so people can get a few extra dollars on their CashApp. I’m speaking specifically of course about the trend of black people on here saying that because of slavery (or, in even more poor taste, the current political situation in America), all non-black people owe them money or they’re not a real ally. this isn’t a huge trend, but it’s a noticeable one that I’ve seen even while trying to avoid such things, so it’s permeating pretty deeply. it’s a disgusting thing to do, and no, people aren’t racist if they don’t give you “reparations” for slavery, full stop. let alone in an economic time as bad as this one.

it’s only a minority doing this, and in terms of the more recent things it gives the entire movement a bad name. not to mention it’s fucking stupid. nobody that these people are targeting had anything to do with that. in terms of accessibility to the people who hurt ancestors, I would have more of a right as an Irish person demanding “reparations” from English people, because this shit was still happening in my lifetime. but I don’t, because I recognise it’s bullshit to hit up random English people on Tumblr and be like “yo you owe me cash for this”. what planet are these people on? the only reason they get away with it even remotely is because people are scared to be deemed racist, but they can suck me long and hard through my jorts because refusing to bend to a guilt trip isn’t racism. fuck off.

autumnal asks 🍁🎃🍂

[possumoleander]

Literally get off of my page if you're under 18+, do you guys not read the pinned post?

[bat-losers-inc]

Kintsugi: Chapter 12

Summary: Final Crisis/Red Robin AU. Dick admits Tim to a psychiatric facility after Bruce is lost in time. Jason finds him suffering at the hands of a Scarecrow-copycat and breaks him out. While safe in Jason’s apartment, Tim still struggles with panic attacks and drug withdrawal. At a loss for what to do, Jason calls Roy Harper.

Pairings: Jason Todd & Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Dick Grayson, Roy Harper & Jason Todd.

Warning: minor mention of self-harm in this chapter.

                                                            - - -

“Okay. House rules.” Roy turned to the whiteboard and started writing with big slanting letters, “Rule number one; no drugs or alcohol inside the safehouse.”

“Now,” Roy pivoted back to Tim, who sat curled up on one end of the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “I know this is an obvious one for the both of us, but it’s worth mentioning that Jason has also agreed to follow it as a show of solidarity. Right, Jason?”

Jason offered a thumbs up from his spot at the kitchen counter, his attention still absorbed by the computer screen before him, open to Tim’s research into Bruce’s disappearance. The lengthy document was full to the brim with images and news articles pulled from the web, scientific papers on optics, quantum mechanics and archeological sites — not to mention all of Batman’s previous research on Darkseid and his powers. It was going to take him days to read through all of it.

“Rule number two; keep it clean.”

“Yeah, we’re not trying to live a life of grime.” Tim smiled, clearly proud of himself.

Yikes, that peak dad joke knocked Jason right out of the physics of time travel and square into second-hand embarrassment. We’re really going to need to unteach him Dick’s puns.

Roy sighed, “Hang on. I just have to make an amendment.”

The expo marker squeaked loudly and Jason glanced up under his eyelashes to see him crossing out the first line. “Rule number one. No puns!”

Jason choked down a laugh and returned his gaze to his screen.

“Seriously, Roy?” said Tim, “You know, it’s going to take us all day to get through these rules if you keep—”

More marker squeaking. “Rule number three!”

“I’m still talking!”

“And now I’m talking.” Roy grinned. “Isn’t it funny how that works?”

“Jason!”

“I’m not here,” he called into the other room as he scrolled to the next page. Ooh, pictures… picture he could do. “Also, respect your elders.”

“Unbelievable,” Tim grumbled, just loud enough for Jason to hear.

“We’ll have weekly meetings every Sunday afternoon. We can use this time to talk about what’s been going well, what we’re struggling with that week, any routine changes that need to be made. Etcetera.”

Silence from Tim. That was good. At least there was the hope that he wasn’t going to fight them on every point. Reassured by that, Jason glanced back at a picture of Batman’s symbol painted on a cave wall and... let’s just say it wasn’t a case of everyday graffiti. Unless Batman had a lineage all the way back to early human civilization that Jason didn’t know about.

Jason tilted his head, squinting. “Hey, Tim? Got a question about that picture of the cave drawing in your research. C’mere.”

“Jason!” snapped Roy. “We’re clearly in the middle of something.”

“I’ll only be a sec!” He turned the laptop around as Tim slid off the couch and walked over.

“What about it?”

Jason tapped the screen with his fingernail. “There’s an annotation in this section with a number listed. What’s that for?”

Tim stared at it for a long moment.

“Oh, that?” He picked at a patch of dry skin on his elbow. “Nothing, just a contact for a consultant.”

“A consultant? Were you working on this case with someone before you got locked up?”

“No, not really. It was more of a one-off situation. He was the one who brought the cave painting to my attention in the first place and sent me the picture.”

“A one-off.. But you kept the number?” Jason eyed him.

Tim smiled tightly. “You know me. I keep a record of everything.”

“Except the name of your consultant.” Jason spun the laptop back around to face him. “Spell it for me, I’ll put it in.”

“What?” asked Tim.

“What’s the name of your consultant?”

“It doesn’t matter. Really.”

Jason’s eyebrows hiked their way into his hairline. “Your reaction is telling me otherwise.”

Anger flashed across Tim’s features. “Just leave it alone, Jason.”

Seriously? Tim couldn’t really have expected him to just ignore the glaringly obvious tension in the room. Honestly, it was like the kid didn’t know him at all.

He turned to head back into the living room but Jason caught his arm. It was slick to the touch under his fingertips. The sweating had started two days after they’d done the first taper— the first, and most mild, of his body’s reaction to doing without his usual dosage. “The fact that you don’t want to tell me means whoever it is, they’re probably bad news —”

“Hey, look at me. ” He gave Tim’s arm a shake until Tim’s gaze finally wandered the expanse of the kitchen and locked back on his own. “I can’t protect you if I don’t know who I should be protecting you from.”

Tim’s eyebrows and the hair at his temples were dark with perspiration. It added an extra intensity to the glare he leveled him with.

“You really think I would work with someone who was out to get me? I might be going crazy looking for answers, but I’m not totally stupid.”

“Of course not, but you’re not the same person you were a week ago either. You’re weaker, more distracted, more—”

Tim yanked his arm free of his fingers, his forearm streaked with bands of red where Jason had been unwilling to let go even when he felt Tim starting to pull away. “No, what ‘I am’  is late for my first NA meeting.”

Jason clamped his teeth together and tried not to grind them. Well, you sure fucked that up.

Roy stepped in before he could make a bigger ass of himself. “Tim, get changed. We’ve gotta hustle if we want to make it there by one.”

“And throw on some extra deodorant.” He added. “All the sweating’s making you smell ripe.”

As Tim took to the stairs, Roy flashed Jason a look. “How's that helicopter parenting serving you long term?”

“Oh, please, I’m the furthest thing from a helicopter parent!”

“Prove it.”

Jason shut the laptop and rubbed at his forehead. “Admit it. This mystery consultant has you concerned too.”

Roy rolled his eyes.“Yeah, a little. But, maybe it was just a one-time thing. People make choices that they’re ashamed of later. This could be Tim’s, but he’s not going to tell you until he trusts you to treat him right.”

Jason swept his arm out wide so Roy had a chance to glance around the apartment at all the little spots where Tim had already made himself at home — the rumpled blanket in the corner of the living room couch, the post-it note with Jason’s wifi password taped above his workspace, and the plate with leftover toast crumbs sitting on the counter — just to name a few. “Uh, I am. He can trust me.”

I made a fucking home for him when he felt like he couldn’t go back to his real one. What more do I have to do to prove it to him? What the hell happened to the old saying ‘actions speak louder than words?’ Apparently, Tim was the greedy sort that wanted actions and words.

Roy cut him a look like he could read Jason’s mind. “Trust goes both ways, Jason. And You’re treating him like a child.”

“He is a child!”

“I’ve only known him for a few days, but I can already see that Tim’s got more intelligence and perseverance than I ever did at his age.”

“Which is why I was being honest with him,” Jason countered. “Just like I would have with you if you were back in his position and doing something stupid.”

“There’s a difference between doing something stupid and doing something you don’t agree with.”

God, was this the kind of mental minefield that Dick had to navigate when dealing with Damian? It was tiring as fuck and endlessly confusing. He was honestly never sure if he was making the right decision. Roy wasn’t one to be tired out easily however.

“Right now that contact is just some numbers on a piece of paper. If they’re bad news Tim’s doing the hard thing and steering clear of them, even if it means forgoing easy answers about Bruce. You want to be honest about something? Be honest with yourself about that.”

Jason was still trying to think of a reply to that by the time Roy herded Tim out of the apartment. When he heard Roy’s car pulling away, he went back to cleaning the bike parts in the garage. He always did his best thinking when his hands were busy with some repetitive task. Hopefully, he could miraculously sort out his shit before Roy and Tim came back.

                                                                 - - -

Tim hadn’t realized that when Roy said they’d have to hurry, it had more to do with the fact that they were driving all the way into Old Gotham than it had to do with mid-morning traffic. When he’d made a comment about it on the way over, Roy had simply said, “I think you’ll like the group at this place. They’re good guys who aren’t afraid to call you on your bullshit.”

“Oh, is that a valued quality in NA group members?” He’d ask, mostly sarcastically.

“At times, it can be.”

Tim didn’t know what to say to that, so they drove the rest of the way in silence. By the time Roy pulled up to the curb outside the Church of St. Jude and cut the engine, Tim’s nerves were even more on edge. It could’ve had something to do with the name of the church — St. Jude was the patron saint of lost causes — it struck Tim as an odd and ominous choice that Roy would favor this place.

“Ready to go in?” Roy asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Lacking an answer to such a simple question, Tim stared out the window at the church. He took in its brick facade, the small courtyard hidden behind metal fencing, and the long-limbed trees that were just starting to bud. On a warm spring day like today it had the look of a small haven amidst the terrible giant that was Gotham City.  

So, why was he so scared to leave Roy’s car?

“If you’re wondering when you’ll feel ready, the answer is probably never.”

“No… it’s not that. I know that.” Tim stared down at his lap. “It’s just…”

He struggled to find the right words, aware all the while that this was the first heart-to-heart that he and Roy were having that wasn’t within Jason’s earshot. They were venturing into uncharted territory.

Just breathe, you can talk to him.

This morning, he’d lingered quietly at the top of the stairs, like a child listening in on a conversation that they were too young for, and heard the way Roy had stood up for him. As long as it wasn’t endangering anyone, it seemed Roy was going to let him have his privacy, whether Jason liked it or not. So he knew that this conversation would be something that stayed just between them.

“What do I say to them?” he asked finally.

Roy hitched a thumb toward the church. “What, in group?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He shrugged. “Don’t you have to go around in a circle telling everyone how you started using and how long it’s been since you’ve last used?”

“It’s not mandatory, but yeah, that’s usually the way these things go.”

“Well, how am I supposed to tell them that I started using because some wanna-be villain experimented on me with fear toxin and tranquilizers?”

He threw out his hands like his frustration was something he could physically beat into submission. Instead, all he managed to do was accidentally punch the glove compartment and scrape his knuckles.

Ow. Universe 46, Tim still 0. Or at least that’s the way it felt.

Once he let one of his worries slip, it seemed he could stop it turning into a flood, his words spilling out like a tidal wave into the quiet space of Roy’s car. “ Hell, how do I tell them it’s been zero days since I last used? That I’m in fact still using. I can’t go in there and stare at a bunch of people who are actually clean and pretend to know what they’re going through, I mean—”

“Hey— hey, Tim,” Roy waved his hands. “Fuck that shit. All of it.”

“But—”

“No, I mean it. Fuck it, it means nothing to anyone in that room. Those details— the fear toxin, the mental hospital, your tapering regimen— they’re irrelevant. You think I had to dive into my shitty backstory with Green Arrow and vigilantism when recovering from heroin? Hell, no, I just told the parts of my story that mattered. You can do the same.”

Tim pressed his fingers harshly against his eyelids. “But I’m still using benzos!”

Roy laughed and tucked his long hair behind his ears, “Who told you being completely clean is a requirement for going to an NA meeting? If that was the case we wouldn’t have nearly so many attendees.”

Tim stared at him. That couldn't be right.

“I’m serious,” said Roy. “Most of us have been on and off the wagon more times than we can count. We come to the meetings anyway because it’s supposed to be the one constant lifeline that we don’t abandon. The only thing that matters to the people in there is that you’re trying to get clean.”

He leaned over the center console to look him in the eye. “Okay?”

Tim nodded, “Alright.”

Roy led the way down into the basement level of the church which served as the meeting room. It was much like Tim had pictured it. Fluorescent lighting; a scattering of folding chairs; coffee, water, and boxes of donuts laid out on the tables along one wall. A small group mingled around one of the tables, pouring steaming coffee into styrofoam cups before the meeting started. Tim instinctively tried to skirt around the group, eying a pair of metal chairs on the other side of the room. He was about to slink away when someone recognized Roy and gestured them over.

Roy glanced at Tim and jerked his head. “Let me introduce you to a few people.”

He had no choice but to follow, trailing a few paces behind Roy and hoping to hide behind his tall frame. Now he really was acting like a child. It was no wonder Jason was having mixed feelings. Get it together Drake! You’ve taken down super villains but you can handle some small talk?

“Roy!” A woman pulled Roy in for a hug, her dark curls spilling loosely over his shoulders. “How’ve you been?”

“Yeah,” The man at her shoulder smiled. “It’s been a while.”

Roy shrugged and offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I don’t get to Gotham nearly as much as I used to.” Tim took the last couple of steps forward, drawing the eyes of the group on him. “This is my friend, Tim. I’m gonna be sponsoring him for a bit. Tim, I’d like you to meet Rene and Dominic.”

“Nice to meet you.” He offered them a small wave, but nothing more. The last thing he wanted to do was draw more attention to himself during this meeting. It would be enough to just hang around in the background and go unnoticed while he got his footing.

It was a relief when the start of the meeting was called and everyone picked up one last donut and cup coffee before sliding into their seats. Roy pulled Tim over to sit next to his friends as a man stood up and addressed the group.

“Hi, everyone. Most of you regulars know me already, but for those of you new here my name’s Antonne Mays. I’m the group leader.”

He pulled a folded piece of notebook paper out of his back pocket and cleared his throat. “I’d like to start off with some general announcements. For those of you here by court mandate, come see me at the end of today’s meeting and I’ll validate your attendance cards. Also, Jessica can you stand up, please? Today is Jessica’s birthday so let’s raise a cup in her honor for staying strong and sticking around with us for another year!”

The people around him raised their styrofoam cups of coffee and tapped on them enthusiastically with their plastic stirrers. For a moment the room was filled with whistles and cheers before subsiding back into order. Tim shifted restlessly in his seat as the meeting went on, his attention going in and out of focus as the announcements transitioned into a round-robin discussion.

Roy bumped his foot with his own. “Pay attention.”

Tim nodded. He was trying to pay attention to the accounts from the other members but recently he’d been having trouble focusing on much of anything.

Focus, Tim. He rubbed at his thighs and rolled his shoulders. Just relax and breathe.

He closed his eyes and let his hands rest loosely against his legs, focusing his attention on drawing a deep breath in and then out. In and out.

“Will you relax and stop fidgeting? You're gonna drive me insane with that.” Roy hissed in his ear.

Tim opened his eyes, ready to shoot Roy a glare. “I’m not—”

His fingers were trembling, creating a spasmodic tattoo against the fabric of his jeans. He clenched his hand tight into a fist hard enough to feel his fingernails in the soft skin of his palms and sucked in a breath. It was just another symptom of the tapering.

It’s fine. You’ll be fine.

A hand covered his clenched fist from wrist to knuckles and applied gentle pressure. Tim looked up at Roy and read the unsaid apology that was written all over his freckled face.

He pulled his hand free and crossed his arms, stuffing his treacherous fingers in the crook of his elbow where no one could see them tremble. The minutes ticked on and Tim was only half listening now, the current speaker’s voice a dull white noise compared to his own thoughts. The trembling came and went in waves but Tim’s fingers lingered near his arms, circling the rough pattern along the skin of his inner arms. The bruising had faded but the raised skin from the needle marks still remained. Roy and Jason had told him he should be prepared for that and it really shouldn’t have mattered so much. It’s just a few more scars. Still, he couldn’t pull his eyes away this morning when he caught sight of himself in the mirror — the pearlescent marks peaking out right under the hem of his t-shirt sleeves.

They know. They all know just from looking at you. Sometimes that feeling was so strong it made him just want to pick up a hot poker and press it to his skin… to burn a brand big enough for those little scars to disappear into.

“I hope you’re not thinking those track marks are an excuse for you to slack off while you’re here. Because I’ll let you in on a little secret, kid; those are nothing special around here.”

Tim jerked his head up to find Antonne and half of the circle staring him in the face. “No- I wasn’t—”

“Mmhmm,” Antonne nodded, his fingers working diligently to roll up his shirt sleeves. When he’d cuffed them above his elbows, he held out his bare arms under the fluorescents. He traced one finger along his inner elbow, where tiny scars stood out in a dark mauve against the darker brown of his skin. “Look, I got them too. As does Antonio, Katey, and even your sponsor, Roy.”

“I’m just not used to them,” Tim said in his own defense. “They’re just so… public.”

Roy leaned forward in his seat, his hair spilling over in a red tangle that hid his expression from Tim’s view. “Sorry, Antonne. He’s new, this is his first meeting.”

Antonne waved away Roy’s explanation. “Ah, I see. So you’re still at the stage where you think those scars will define what others think of you.”

Tim shrugged. “Well, yeah… I mean, scars are permanent.”

That got a full-body laugh out of Antonne.

Tim stared at him confused. “Is something funny?”

“If you don’t like them so much, wear long sleeves, cover them up with concealer, hell you can even turn them into some hipster geometrical nonsense tattoo like Antonio did for all I care.”

“People are always going to stare, it’s in their nature,” Roy said before extending his left arm across Tim’s leg.

On the outside of his bicep was his Wyvern tattoo, a large winged beast with a reptilian tail that zig-zagged all the way down his bicep before ending at his elbow in an arrow-shaped point. But as he rotated his arm, Tim saw that the inside of his elbow was marked not with ink but with old track marks. He’s never even noticed them, his eyes always drawn to the colorful black and green ink, forever trying to figure out it’s meaning. “But, you can choose what they see when they look at you. Got it?

Tim’s hands dropped back into his lap. He felt a strange mixture of relief and humiliation all at once. “Yeah.”  

“And here’s another pro-tip, on the house.” Antonne leaned forward in his chair. “The best way to change what people think of you… is to participate in group discussion.”

 His face heated up as laughter erupted around the circle. Thankfully, it all seemed good-natured based on the smiles that some of the other members directed at him and the way Roy gave his hair a quick ruffle.

“What’s your name, kid?” Antonne asked.

Tim sat up straighter in his chair. “Tim.”

“Alright, Tim. Next meeting, you’re speaking first.”

[bodytoflame-ao3]

won’t you stick around? (sensation)

fem!percabeth + college late nights (part 2)

Read on Ao3

i kinda like the way we talk without the sound i'm living for the moments we can't be without

need u more ..//.. shaded

“Percy!”

“Hey,” she smiles, settling into the hug.

“You’re sure you won’t fail any classes for this?”

“Who could say no to the Hero of Olympus? And I’m not missing that much class. I left after my only class Friday morning, and I should be back in time for my Wednesday night.”

“I would scold you for taking advantage of your professors, but I missed you too much for that.” Annabeth takes her bag and sets it down in the corner of her room.

“I drove for two days for you, you better be nice.”

Annabeth pulls herself up onto her bed, grabbing the small sketchbook from its place on top of her pillow. “I’ll be nicer once I finish this sketch that’s due tomorrow.”

“You do that… I need to sleep for a few hours.” She’s barely slept in the past two days, but it’s not like she hasn’t had it worse. She took a power nap every few hours, and that was enough. With another nap and a quick shower at a motel in the middle of the night, she’s still feeling okay, but she knows she needs to rest up so she can start driving back in the morning. It’s still worth it — because she gets to see Annabeth, even if only for a night. And like Hades she’s getting on an airplane; that’s one fear she hasn’t quite conquered.

Annabeth stares at Percy expectantly, “Come on, Perce. You can sleep up here.”

“You're working, I don't wanna get in the way. I'll go crash on the couch.”

She rolls her eyes and extends her hand, “Come here.” It wouldn’t matter to her if Percy got in the way, though she knows it would be easy enough to work around her.

Percy sighs and climbs up with her, curling into her lap. She eventually settles, her head resting on Annabeth’s hip, arms wrapped around her leg.

She props up her other knee, resting her sketchbook up against her thigh. Glancing ahead at the reference pinned on her wall, she draws, fine lines and precise angles; a perfectly captured study of the industrial steel support beams of the dilapidated warehouse in the picture.

She nudges Percy once it's finished a few hours later, but she's in too deep of a slumber. It might just be instinct — a remnant of the days when sleep was hard to come by — but she looks so peaceful that she can't bear disturbing her.

So she draws, pencil moving across paper, with little reason. She draws the lamp in the corner of her room, the collection of objects strewn across her desk, little things she can see from where she is, trying to fill up the time until Percy wakes up.

When she’s run out of things to draw, Percy’s still sleeping; so calm and quiet. And still, she looks so beautiful. A hero, and the most gorgeous girl she’s ever seen. It’s striking to her, the difference between the way she looks in the middle of battle. Still beautiful, but her face so focused, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. The way she looks right now is so different, Annabeth almost can’t picture her as the same girl — she looks too innocent, filled with a peace they’ve never known. She wonders who they might’ve been if things were different, if they met as normal kids. She hopes they’d still be here; together.

It’s late, much later than she would stay up herself on a Sunday night. She's considering just calling it a night and making it up to Percy in the morning, when she starts to stir, stretching out with a yawn.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost 5 hours. Feel better?”

Percy hums an affirmation, “Finish your drawing?”

“Yeah. Did some other sketches too while you were sleeping. Figured you needed the rest.” Annabeth flips through the pages, showing her.

Her thumb catches two pages instead of just one. “Wait, you skipped one.”

“Ugh, don’t embarrass me, Percy,” she laughs, handing her the sketchbook and crossing her arms. It feels weird. She’s never been so sentimental — but Percy really looked so pretty clutching her legs, and she couldn’t help but capture that beauty.

Percy turns the page back, and a look of wonder falls onto her face. “Annabeth, this is incredible.”

She blushes, “It’s nothing.”

“No, this… it’s amazing.”

“I was thinking about minoring in art.”

“You should. Seriously, Annabeth. This is really, really good, I— Where did you learn how to do this?”

“Well, the major is based around the art history department. Remember how I mentioned we had to do one studio class?”

She nods. “You're taking that right now, right?”

“Yeah, and I really like it.” She bites her lip. “I’ve been practicing in my spare time. It’s kinda just like architecture drawings — observing shapes, and angles — but it's also looking at the way light hits things and how it changes your perceptions.”

Her eyes light up in the same way they do when she talks about her dreams for the future. “I think you should go for it.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asks, a smile coming to her face as she sets the sketchbook aside.

“Yeah.”

She kisses Percy’s forehead and holds her close, fingers running through her hair. “I missed you.”

“You get possessive when you miss me,” Percy chuckles. “I like it.”

“I like you.”

“Aww, that’s so embarrassing,” Percy teases, running a hand up her stomach.

She grabs her hand, and leans in close enough that her lips brush Percy’s as she says, “You’re insufferable.” The mischievous grin on her face as she hops off the bed says it all.

“Where are you going?”

“Kitchen,” Annabeth answers, not looking back.

Percy follows on her heel like a puppy. “Hey. Let's go somewhere.”

She stops just short of the cabinet. “Yeah? What’s your plan?”

Percy shrugs. “Um. No plan? I just want to spend time with you.”

“Humor me, what’s even open at 1 AM besides… bars and McDonald’s?”

“Don’t know. Come on, let’s just go.” Percy tugs on her arm, digging her heels into the floor jokingly.

“We can spend time together here. I’ll put on a movie or something,” she manages through a laugh.

“Annabeth, we can watch a movie any time. I'm only here for—” she glances at the clock, “—eight more hours. You trust me,” she smiles, not a question, but a truth.

“Okay,” she sighs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go put on real clothes.” Percy presses a quick kiss to her cheek and runs off.

Annabeth gives a wide-eyed glance to her roommate, standing by the coffee machine, watching it drip into her mug with unparalleled fascination. She's not sure how much she heard or saw — and she's not sure she cares if she did, to be honest. The better question is why she's drinking coffee at two in the morning.

She points an accusing finger: “Not even a word. At least I have the decency to stay here and procrastinate in my pajamas.”

“No, no,” Annabeth laughs, “I wasn't going to say anything,” —an obvious lie.

“So, friend, huh?”

Annabeth opens her mouth to speak, the words catching in her throat. She takes a second; takes a breath, and says, “Actually. My girlfriend. And best friend.”

“Ah,” she smiles, “I thought I sensed overdramatic gay pining.”

Relief washes over Annabeth at how calm and casual her reaction is — but oh, how wrong she is. “Trust me, that's not pining.” She knows pining, regrettably, and this isn't it. On their scale of reactions to time spent apart, a month of talking almost every night while still getting used to their new schedules was nothing.

“Well, it seems like she really missed you.”

Of course she did. And— “I missed her.”

She's drinking her coffee black — what kind of masochist drinks black coffee in the middle of the night on a Sunday night (or rather, Monday morning)? Perhaps the worst part: she sips it slowly, like she enjoys it. “She looks at you like… god, I don't even know, but it's intense.”

Annabeth crosses her arms. “I mean, we've been together for two years, and we've known each other even longer.”

“My boyfriend hasn't looked at me like that since the first few months. Damn, here I thought you were still in the honeymoon phase.”

“We grew up together — been through some shit,” she shrugs, not particularly wanting to elaborate.

“I get that.”

Annabeth doubts she does. “Yeah.”

Percy emerges from her room in a plain navy sundress, jean jacket draped over her shoulder. Annabeth’s eyes linger a bit too long as she looks her over. “Stop staring at my legs, Chase.”

“I— they're long!” Smooth, Annabeth.

Percy chuckles, “Messing with you. Grab your shoes, let’s go.”

“Annabeth, when will you be back?”

“Um. I actually don’t know,” she grins.

It turns out, Washington Square Park is beautiful at night. Despite it being right outside her window, she never did much besides walk through it to save time walking to class. Much quieter, too. There’s still a bustle of tourists, but nothing like it was during the day.

Percy holds her hand tight, swinging their arms back and forth deliberately as they walk. “I miss the city.”

“I never realized how beautiful it could be.”

“You’re majoring in architecture.”

“Yeah, but like… here everything’s so cramped and purpose built. It doesn’t seem like there’s room for beauty. But when I see things like this,” she looks up at the arch, illuminated marble against the dark sky, “it reminds me of all the things I want to make. And why — for these moments. For the girl staring up at the great big world at her fingertips and noticing the little things. The grain of wood in a table; once bark of a tree. Speckles in marble statues. The stippled texture of brick on a walkway.” She leans her head against Percy’s shoulder, clutching her arm tight. “The person who made this didn’t know what it would look like a hundred years in the future. It stood alone, when the night sky wasn’t lit up by street lights, and ‘skyscraper’ meant 10 stories. That America’s long gone, and so are the buildings, but this little piece of it still stands.”

“That is beautiful.” She has a way with words, doesn’t she?

While not eerily quiet, the crowd has started to die down, the bustle of tourists slowing, and Percy knows that’s their cue to leave. She twirls Annabeth around, and pulls her in the direction of the street closest to them.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know!”

“Isn’t it, I don’t know, dangerous for two girls to walk the streets of a big city alone in the middle of the night?” Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

“First off, we’re right next to a college campus and tourist hotspot — this is one of the safest parts of the city. Second, we kick ass.”

She can’t refute that. It’s easy to forget Percy grew up here, and knows this city like the back of her hand. And they do kick ass. They walk for a while, with no sense of direction, passing blocks and avenues; ascending and descending, until Annabeth says, “Let’s get pizza.”

Percy’s face lights up, “I was waiting for you to say something spontaneous like that. Where do you wanna go?”

“Pizza place across the street.”

It looks divey, but it ends up being some of the best pizza Annabeth’s ever had, and she’s glad they took the chance. They share a pie and hold hands across the table, just laughing, and smiling, and she feels normal — It hits her hard.

“What’s wrong?”

Her smile falls away, but it’s not a look of sadness. It’s reflection; every moment that’s led them here. “I didn’t plan this,” she starts, squeezing her hand, “I tried so hard to have a plan for everything, but there’s no way I could’ve planned this. And I’m just realizing I’ve never been more happy with my life than I am right now, and it’s all because of things I wasn’t able to control. That’s… ironic, right?”

“You may not’ve planned it, but you still made this what it is. It’s what we make.”

“Don’t get all philosophical on me over pizza.” Annabeth rolls her eyes.

“You started it!”

That’s true — but she can’t help it. It’s like the whole world fell into place around her without her even noticing. Wasn’t it in her nature to know things? To be observant? “Touché.”

“What do you wanna do?” Percy asks her once they’ve returned to the streets, having polished off the last slice.

She hums, thinking. “Crêpe place. It’s on the way back.”

“It’s…” Percy glances at her watch, “2:30. It’s probably closed.”

“Nope, it’s open until 3.”

“And you know this why?”

“It was 2:45 AM and I wanted crêpes,” she shrugs.

They’re damn good crêpes. If there’s one thing she misses the most about NYC, it’s her mom. Second: Annabeth. If there’s a third thing, it’s incredibly delicious food from unexpected places. Let it never be said Percy’s a girl without her priorities in order.

They wander back, slowly weaving their way towards Annabeth’s dorm, Percy’s arm wrapped around her waist as they walk. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’m not going to beg you to stay, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Annabeth laughs. “You need to pass your classes.”

Percy’s pretty sure she could ditch every single class for the next four years and they’d still give her a degree. But… she likes her classes. Which is new. New Rome understands her — it’s a school for Demigods, of course they cater to ADHD and dyslexia. Even more striking, she’s learning about things that she actually finds interesting. While she isn’t dead set on a specific field like Annabeth, there’s a few things she’s genuinely excited to look into. Marine life and sustainability — because she’ll always be in touch with the sea and the earth — and somehow, education? She’s pressed to admit Paul has rubbed off on her more than she’d ever expected, and having teachers that understand her disability is something she wishes she had as a kid. It’s something to think about.

“I know. I just miss you. I call sometimes… just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Percy, I do too,” Annabeth admits, leaning into her shoulder.

She smiles, “Gods, I thought I was being so creepy and weird.”

“For the record, you are weird.” Percy glares at her, so she elaborates. “So I… had a bit of a nightmare last week. It wasn't bad, but… I called,” she pauses, cracking a smile, “And you had your head hanging off the side of the bed; all tangled up in the blankets. That's weird.”

Percy scoffs, but she’s most definitely not lying. After a pause, she shifts the conversation: “You can wake me up if you need me, you know that right?”

“No, I mean,” she sighs, “I just needed to see you. That's all.”

She knows. “I mean anytime.”

Annabeth nods, “Same here.”

The second the elevator doors in her building close, Annabeth pulls Percy into a slow kiss, one she’s been waiting for since the second she saw her today.

“Took you long enough,” Percy laughs, threading her fingers through Annabeth’s hair. She tastes like marshmallow and chocolate, which she should’ve expected. It takes all of her willpower to pull away when the doors open at her floor.

Annabeth unlocks the door, and as soon as they step inside she hears, “I’m awake, so for the love of all things holy — no loud sex!”

A devilish look pops onto Percy’s face. “Quiet sex, got i—” Percy shouts back; Annabeth sticks her hand over her mouth a second too late.

“Really, Percy?”

“What?” she smirks, “At least I didn’t tell her you were the loud one.”

“Seaweed Brain,” she shakes her head, and heads into her room, quickly tossing her clothes in a pile to deal with in the morning. For now, she grabs a t-shirt out of Percy’s duffel bag, and climbs into her bed. They have six hours, and Annabeth intends to spend them holding her.

Percy follows, kicking her converse off in the doorway and wrestling into a tank top and shorts, finding her way into Annabeth’s arms as quickly as she can manage. As she curls into her grasp, head resting on her shoulder and legs intertwined, a sense of peace washes over her, unparalleled even by the end of the war. Annabeth’s arm cradles her head, hand stroking her shoulder.

It’s a departure from how they usually sleep, Percy spooning Annabeth, arm around her waist to hold her close, their legs tangled together. She’s almost forgotten just how good it feels to be held by her. It’s a feeling she can’t easily explain. When she holds Annabeth, she’s keeping her safe. Of course, she could hold her own any day — but it brings her comfort to hold her in her arms; her warm skin and soft curves nestled perfectly, safe, real. This is so, so different. This is the feeling of Annabeth’s strength, and her own vulnerability, wrapped in the knowledge and trust that she’ll never let go.

Annabeth whispers, “I love you,” and Percy falls asleep faster than she has in almost ten years.

[ffwriteradvisor]

Rewriting Old Stories

Rewrites are harder than people give them credit for. You can’t just go back and correct the grammatical errors and misspellings and call it a ‘rewrite’ - at best, it’s a second-draft.

Speaking as someone who’s tried to rewrite my most popular fic on three to four separate occasions to varying degrees of failure (I’m working on a fifth now with higher hopes), a rewrite is a lot more involved than that.

The thing to remember when you start a rewrite is that you’re simultaneously working with a story you’re more than likely both embarrassed about and nostalgic for on some level. Yes, it might be showing its age or your inexperience at the time of writing it, but you can also remember how fun it was to write and share it back in the day. Part of you knows you can do better now - if not on a creative level, a technical one at least - but another part wants to leave it as is, either because you want to move onto new things or because you don’t know if you can ‘fix’ it and don’t want to risk messing around on your own ‘sacred ground’.

So that’s the first thing that you need to ask yourself before setting out on a Rewrite - do you actually want to rewrite this story?

If the answer to that question is ‘yes’, then keep reading.

There are a couple different ways to approach the Rewrite.

1) ‘Oh god, burn it and pull something salvageable out of the wreckage’ is probably the wrong way to do it. That’s not to say you can’t pull good ideas from your earlier fics and use them somewhere else, but you should go into it with an open mind rather than treating your old story as an enemy to be defeated and looted of their valuables.

2) A better way to approach it is as a tune-up. This can run from ignoring the bulk of the content and focusing on tightening up the gears (though this is pretty much a second-draft rather than a proper rewrite unless there’s a lot of tightening up to do) to dismantling the whole thing so you can eliminate the plot holes, improve the character arcs and interactions, and get rid of anything that just didn’t work the first time around.

Or if you’re feeling particularly ambitious...

3) You can approach it as an opportunity to make your story a ‘wider universe’. This is a combination of points 1 and 2 - not only are you dismantling the original, you’re throwing in a lot of loose parts from other stories you’ve abandoned along the way, meaning that the end product is going to be even bigger and more complicated than anything would be on its lonesome.

I’ve been working with option 3 recently, trying to construct a gestalt story out of my large collection of One Piece OCs and the half-dozen started and abandoned fic ideas I’ve had for that fandom over the years. I can speak from my personal experience that this is very difficult. You’re snipping and twisting plot threads together and trying to find natural feeling connection points between what started as completely unrelated projects.

Once you settle on how extensive you intend for this project to be, then you can move onto the next set of questions.

First - what do you want from this story?

Do you want to fix the problems you didn’t see occurring as the result of your OCs butterflying away the canon plot the first time around? Do you want to make an AU of your original story that goes in a different story direction at Chapter 10 compared to where you went the first time around? Do you want to aim for a different vibe entirely than what ended up on the page the first time around?

You can answer yes to any or all of those questions. You can even ask completely different ones. All that matters is that you figure out what you’re aiming for here.

Second - are you ready to re-read it?

Because you’re going to have to. Maybe even multiple times, so get ready to smother your initial cringe reaction to the writing of 2013!you. It might be ‘sacred ground’ on some level, but you are also crawling into the Wayback Machine just for the explicit purpose of looking at a period in your life you moved past for a reason.

There's going to be weird figures of speech, bad grammar that even your initial proof-reading attempts might have missed, questionable takes, and a lot of things that got knocked out of your system as you gained more experience as both a writer, fandom participant, and all around person. Skip over the superficial stuff for now - you will have to go back later and see if there's any more specific stuff that you can and should work with - and just stick with the meat and bones of what happened in the story.

Third - Take notes. For the love of god, take notes.

Make sure those notes are extensive - they should cover every change you made to the canon, every major (and most of the minor) plot points involved in your story, every gimmick that showed up (ghosts, dramatic reveals, surprise developments), and then some. Anything that sticks out to you as something even mildly important, you should make note of.

This will save you the trouble of constantly re-reading the original after your first few goes through.

Then, take those notes and boil them down. Was this thing that was brought up a thread that wove into the greater tapestry of the story or was 2013!you throwing shit at the wall just to see if it would stick, only to forget all about it by the time the next chapter rolled around? Does that other choice work with what you know of the universe now and, if not, do you want to change the thing to work with the setting, the setting to work with the thing, or just do away with the thing altogether? Do these relatively small things that were thrown out at random have enough common ground for you to string them together into an overarching theme?

Fourth - start plotting.

A lot of the problems I’ve run into writing fic is a lack of forward thinking. I didn’t plan ahead, I didn’t try to analyze the direction of the plot was developing in, I didn’t go into the project with any goals or expectations...

Those are mistakes you should try to avoid making.

Plotting ahead can help a lot with avoiding these and can help you develop new ideas - a character who goes through a series of dramatic events in a short period of time is prime for an angst episode that you might not have written in the first time around, or the gradual revelation of things a character shouldn’t rightly have knowledge of might make a big reveal about them being an outside context problem for the setting a lot more understandable - after all, what’s the point of an answer to a question nobody was asking?

Try to make a rough timeline of events. This doesn’t have to line up with a canon-timeline, but it can be helpful if your story intersects with canon events or characters at any point.

Even stuff that you don’t have a hard date or place in the plot for can be useful here - just keep it floating until you find a place where it slots in well between what the characters need to be capable of and where the rest of the plot is tonally.

You don’t have to adhere strictly to the first plotline you come up with - writing is as much an art of discovery as it is planning - but it’s always good to have on to start with.

My best three pieces of advice for doing a rewrite?

1) Take your time. A lot of the problems with your first story, besides inexperience, can be rooted with being in a rush. A rush to keep the updates coming, a rush to get to 'the good stuff', a rush to fit in writing with the rest of your life schedule. This time, give everything time. Time to research, time to bounce ideas off of friends, time to think about the implications of what a character doing XYZ would actually mean, time to check over your work for any holes you didn't catch while writing it. You're working with fanfiction, a land where deadlines almost never exist unless you set them yourself. Take advantage of that. 2) Never make it a straight retread 'but edgier/meme-ier/whatever-ier this time'. If you want to shift the genre, you have to put effort into changing the nature of the story in a way that feel natural to it. Your audience 'knows' the characters by now and will be thrown off by a new version that barely resembles the old that's somehow still running through the same story you told before. 3) Give your old audience something new to chew on.

This ties back into the second point a bit, but seriously; make sure that something new happens in the story. Had a lull period in your first go because there was a similar time-gap in the original series? Fill it with something - a new enemy, a casual event to unwind and connect your characters better, even a 'what's happening elsewhere' snippet. Had a character with a vague backstory? See if there's a 'natural' place to slot them in with the canon - depending on what fandom you're working with, that could run anywhere from specific locations and scenarios to just fitting with a larger running theme in other character's backstories.

You don't have to make a masterpiece, but there are going to be blank spaces in the canvas of your original telling where there's room to make more. A new audience might not realize there was nothing there the first time around, but your old audience will see the new content and appreciate it. You don't have to do anything big - sometimes changing too much will break the spirit of it being a 'rewrite' entirely - but try to keep it fresh, even if that's just filling in holes that nobody noticed in your original go. Anyway, good luck with your writing, regardless of if that writing is a rewrite or more original stuff.

[deadsy-doodle-blog]

PUNK ROCK RUINED MY LIFE

SECTION SEVENTEEN

      Later on in the month in Grim’s drawing class he hooked his feet around Shoal’s stool and pulled him to his desk with his feet. Shoal turned around, confused as he started to move back. Grim looked up at him. “Can you help me really fast?” he asked. Shoal nodded, scooting his glasses up.

       “I want to draw Oasis, but I don’t know how to draw nipples.” He said quietly to the Palomino. His light brows scrunched down under his glasses, taking his eyes from Grim’s face.

      “That’s gross, Grim.” He said turning and trying to scoot his chair back to his own desk.

      “Shoal wait, seriously I do need help. I’m just pulling your chain.” Grim laughed. He turned his drawing of a guitar to Shoal. He picked it up and held his hand out for the reference picture and compared the two. He sat both pages back down on the desk and took his eraser and adjusted some lines. He pushed the page back to Grim.

      “The angle was too steep.” He said pointing out part of the drawing that was now fixed. Shoal turned back around.

     “Hey, sorry I said that about your sister. I’m just fucking with you.” Grim added.

      “Why would you think I would find that funny?” Shoal asked rolling his eyes, still trying to go back to his own work.

      “Oh I didn’t. I was just trying to get you a little riled up, see what your reaction would be.”

      “You’re really messed up.” Shoal said finally turning around. Grim brought his pencil back down to his page and continued working on his project.

       “Fuck off. She does have great tits, by the way.”

      “Like you would even know, just let me go back to my art. I’m going to ignore you now.” Shoal’s nasal voice said over his shoulder. Grim shook his head, getting some satisfaction from Shoal’s reaction to him, seeing he was obviously uncomfortable and embarrassed.

       “I do know. And thanks for your help, kiddo.” Grim added, not getting any further response. Their art teacher stepped up near Grim’s desk and looked at his art over his shoulder. Grim glanced up to him and picked up his pencil to keep working. The teacher slowly migrated away. After class Grim playfully bumped into Shoal, he was still pissed off and the gesture only agitated him more.

       “Grim! What the hell?!” he said pushing him back. Grim laughed.

       “Whoa, calm down buddy.” He smiled to the youngling, he was roughly the same height as Grim, despite being so much younger.

        “I’m not joking, Grim, leave me alone.” She said trying to outwalk him in the hall.

        “What are you gonna do, kick my ass?” Grim chuckled.

       “Get the fuck out of my face, Grim!” Shoal said pushing pass him, Grim belted out laughter, surprised to hear him use such a strong word.

       Later on during lunch he waited for Oasis near her classroom. She approached him with her arms crossed.

       “Are you being an ass to my little brother?” she asked, looking at his green eyes shifting.

       “I was just giving him shit!” Grim exclaimed.

      “Well he is really upset, okay?” she said taking her books to her locker. Grim leaned against the other lockers.

      “About what?” he said shaking his head.

       “He’s been getting picked on by other kids, and you doing it too doesn’t help. He’s having a hard enough time finding friends.” She lectured him.

       “Wait, who the fuck is picking on him? Besides me?” Grim asked, following her down the hall toward the cafeteria.

      “He wouldn’t tell me.” Oasis said to him heatedly.

       “Well hell, if I knew that I wouldn’t have given him such a tough time. He came and tattled?” he asked.

       “Well I could tell he was having a bad day, okay? Jesus, be a little more sensitive.” She bickered with him.

       “Alright, I’ll lay off the poor kid.” He said tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. They approached the same lunch table that Shoal was sitting at alone. Grim slumped his backpack off his shoulder and sat it near him then followed Oasis to stand in line for the cafeteria lunch. Grim wrapped his arms around Oasis from behind her, hugging them over her shoulders loosely. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, she was still upset with him. “I’m sorry I’m a dink.” He said softly to her ear. They waited for a few minutes, talking a little more casually. Grim overheard some commotion from the side of the cafeteria, looking over to see Shoal’s face covered in food and the hand of a heavier set kid in a metal shirt withdrawing from the back of his head.

       “Oh my god.” Oasis said covering her mouth and hopping out of line, running to her little brother. Grim’s eyebrows bunched down and he briskly walked into the direction of the kid in the metal band attire. Once approaching the kid, who was a sophomore, he shoved him aside and looked him square in the eye.

        “What the fuck?” Grim asked shoving the kid back again. They were near the wall now and the bully shoved Grim’s shoulders back.

       “What do you want, pussy? Did I embarrass your little boyfriend?” he taunted, getting in Grim’s face.

        “You’re a fucking cunt.” Grim said glaring him up and down, pushing him hard again, pressed into the brick wall. The bully swung his fist toward Grim’s stomach, he twisted out of reach and brought his knee into the groin of the young paint stallion. He let out a sharp blow of air as Grim shoved his shoulder back, slamming it into the wall and brought his fist up in an uppercut to the bully. A crowd had started to gather and chant ‘fight!’ at this time.

       The bigger kid wrapped his arm around Grim and tackled him to the ground. Grim held onto the fists of his attacker and struggled to keep him off of him.

       “God, you’re a fucking fat ass!” Grim grunted, his arms shaking a little. “Not very strong though, only workout you get is from lifting spoons to your mouth, right?”

       A teacher’s hand grabbed onto the kid’s metal band shirt and pulled him up, and another grabbed onto Grim once he scrambled up from the floor. He looked around to see Oasis, her brows raised with concern. He didn’t see her little brother, his tray was still at the table. Grim was tugged into the principal’s office with his opponent

        After a long grueling lecture and a call to his grandmother Grim was suspended for three days. Once home to his grandmother’s house she lectured him as well.

       “What the hell are you doing, Mijo?” she asked as he walked through the door.

        “I wasn’t the one who started it.” Grim shook his head.

        “Suspended, aye.” She sighed, looking disappointed in him.

       “Would you just let me explain?” Grim tried to butt in as she was rattling off in Spanish and shaking her head as she was walking away from him. He got frustrated and let out an arch of angry sounds before stomping up the stairs to his room. He plugged his guitar into its amp and frantically played for a while, trying to burn off some steam with some fast paced punk music. He played through several songs before his hands started to cramp up. He heard a pound at his door before it flung open and his guitar was unplugged from the amp.

         “What the fuck, Grim?!” his mother’s voice surprised him. She grabbed him by his ear and tugged him down to her level. His fingers dropped his pick. “You got kicked out of school?” she said yanking him near her more as the crackle in the amp fuzzed with their footsteps. Her fingers released his ear and they came up to slap him. He caught her wrist and held it tightly.

         “Don’t fucking hit me.” He said in tense teeth before dropping her hands. He slid his guitar off his shoulder and sat it on it’s stand.

        “What the fuck is your problem? Getting kicked out of school and shit? God you’re really going places, Grim.” She said folding her arms, watching him pace the room with his hands wrapped around to the back of his head. He pushed passed her into the hall, heaving for air, it became so hard to find in this whole house. She followed right behind him. He fled from the house and fumbled with a cigarette, trying to light it, just to do something to keep himself occupied. “No, fuck that!” his mother said grabbing his cigarette and the pack from his jacket. She tossed them to the side. “Are you going to fucking talk? What the fuck is your problem?” she said getting in his face. “Your grandma called me really upset because you’ve been fighting kids at school. Little punk ass, getting fucking violent. Just like your fucking father.” Her eyes burned into him. Grim’s stomach twisted, he leaned against the siding of the house, he heaved for air, getting lightheaded as his blood boiled and his sinuses throbbed with the congestion of another stress induced headache.

         “I was fighting the kid for being an asshole to my girlfriend’s little brother.”

        “Let him pick his own fights. Two more weeks and they could throw your ass in jail for that shit.”

        “Her little brother is only like fourteen. What was I supposed to do, just let him get his ass kicked?”

        “Well it’s bad enough that you broke that neighbor kid’s ribs last Christmas, who the fuck knows what you’re capable of.”

      “Don’t fucking hold that against me. Who the hell fucks their kid’s best friend, then throws a bitch fit when they get pissed about it?”

     “You’re fucking assaulting kids, you’re gonna wind up in the slammer once you turn 18. I’d give you a fucking month.”

     “Oh so now Morty is a kid huh? That’s not what you said a few months ago when I asked if you fucked him.”

      “That’s not what this is about!” she said getting in his face.

       “I didn’t fucking do anything wrong, mom! I was fucking standing up for my girlfriend’s little brother!” he argued back.

         “You know what, fuck it. Whatever. Don’t be calling me when you get arrested for kicking the shit out of a minor.” She said shaking her head and backing away from him. She picked up his discarded cigarette from the lawn and plugged it into her mouth before lighting it and getting into her car. She backed out of the driveway and sped off down the road. Grim slumped down to the ground at the side of the house and held his head in his hands.

          Grim heard the sound of gravel crunching as a car pulled into the driveway. He looked up surprised to see Oasis’s yellow bug. She got out of her car toting his backpack. She approached him as her little brother followed. He pushed himself up off the ground and greeted her in a hug. Her hugs felt so good. They radiated love and kindness that seeped into his chest. He felt his heart thumping, a contrast from her calming presence.

         “Are you okay?” she asked looking up at him, noting that he seemed a little bit off. He nodded his head silently and looked to her little brother.

         “How are you holding on?” Grim asked letting Oasis out of his embrace and taking his backpack from her shoulders. Her little brother nodded his head a little. He flipped his hand back and forth to say ‘so so’.

        “Hey, I’m really sorry for giving you a hard time this morning. I didn’t know you were going through some shit.” He said looking him kindly in the eye.

          “It’s fine, I really appreciate you standing up for me like that.” His nasal voice said softly.

          “Do you guys want to come in for a little bit?” he asked starting to back toward the door. Oasis looked up to her little brother and he nodded his head. She pushed him on to follow Grim inside. “Grandma!” Grim called. She came in from the kitchen, still seeming irritated.

         “This is Oasis’s little brother. I was fighting that kid because he was getting picked on. I really didn’t just pick a fight.” Grim explained with a soft voice. Shoal reached his hand out to her and she shook his hand warmly, looking from her grandson to Shoal.

         “Are you hungry?” she asked Shoal and Oasis.

        “We don’t want to be too much trouble.” Oasis said kindly to her.

         “No it’s no trouble. I want to hear more about this.” She said looking from Oasis to Grim.

         “We can stay for a little bit.” Shoal said after looking to his older sister. Shoal sat at the barstools at the counter grating cheese for their food as Oasis helped Grim’s grandmother happily. Grim was mostly busy opening cans for the taco soup that they were preparing.

         “Why do you get picked on?” Grim’s grandmother asked in a nice voice, taking the grated cheese from Shoal. He shrugged.

         “He’s a new kid, he skipped two grades so he’s the youngest one in the school.” Oasis said looking at her little brother after washing her hands.

        “You must be very smart, chico.” She said with kind eyes. They continued to tell her about the incident and her expression toward Grim softened a little. Still upset that he was suspended, but at least it was for a good reason. After a few hours Oasis and Shoal had to leave, Grim hugged Oasis sweetly and patted Shoal on the back at the door. After they backed out of the driveway he shut the door softly and sat down on the couch in the living room. He held his head in his hands, still going over everything his mother had yelled at him earlier.

         His grandmother’s kind withered hands rubbed his shoulder affectionately and said “my favorite jackass” in Spanish to him. He grinned a little bit and shook his head in a laugh at her. “You’re doing all of my chores while you’re suspended.” She added in English.

[aj-diamond]

Promptis Week: Day 1:  Day 1: Realization- the moment they knew it was love / Ten Years Later This took me FOREVER to write. I really didn’t expect for it to be this long. I really didn’t. But, here it is, written and edited to the best of my ability. It has been forever since I written a fanfiction. I hope you enjoy! (And please spare me!)

Notes: This is a AU, Noct and Prompto are in college. Iggy and Gladio own a coffee shop. Noct’s not a prince and there is no pain in this world. *Breathes in* I need them to all be happy, okay? Also, Prompto is the one that realizes he’s in love. There is a purpose for that, that will be revealed in the upcoming days. And yes, everything will be connected. 

Rated: T (this time) 

Word Count: 3,601 (Too many words)

Also can be read on: Ao3 

@promptisfanweek

He’s Falling in Love Now… (Realization)

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Prompto whined loudly, how could it possibly be 8AM already? He just laid down for a little shut eye. Maybe his alarm clock was broken and was lying to him now. Prompto opened his eyes halfway and glanced at his alarm clock. It was blurry but he made out the time, 8:03AM.

He whined louder and buried his face in his pillow, “Nooo! I wanna sleep. Let me sleep!”  He slammed the snooze button down.

Granted, not getting enough sleep was his own fault. A ten-page essay for his art appreciation class was due today by 12PM and he only had it half finished. He managed to finish the assignment that morning, around 4AM. He had weeks, 3 weeks to be precise, to finish the essay, but he continuously put it off. Blame procrastination or the lack of motivation, or maybe the fact that Street Fighting Kings II had come out a week after the assignment was given. Either way, it just wasn’t done and now it was.

Prompto slowly rose up from his warm, comfy, rollaway bed and dragged himself towards the bathroom, “I’ll brush my teeth, take a quick, cold shower and get some coffee.”

Coffee. That’s what he needed. He needed a least two, strong, large cups of coffee and a chocolate frosted doughnut with sprinkles.  He wasn’t going to be able to make it if he didn’t get coffee and doughnut.

He staggered into the bathroom and flipped on the light, he rubbed his face with both his hands as though he was trying to wipe off his sleepiness. Prompto looked into the mirror and nearly jumped at his reflection he could see. He looked like a zombie. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles were underneath his eyes. Strands of blond hair stood up everywhere.

“Okay. First things first. Contacts. Can’t see shit without those.” he mumbled, picking up the chocobo adorned contact storage case.

He popped the small storage case opened, and pressed his index finger to the right lens, “Okay, here we g- no!” The small lens fell off the blonde's finger and down his sink drain. Prompto closed his eyes, this couldn’t be happening. This seriously could not be happening.

One of his 500 gil contact lenses fell down the drain. Yeah, that wasn’t a lot to some people, but to him, a college student that was barely able to pay rent every month, it was a lot. Prompto threw his hands up, “Oh well! Didn’t need to see anyway! Way to go, Prompto.” He sighed aloud. “I guess I can just wear my glasses.”

He picked up his toothbrush and turned the faucet knobs… Nothing. He tried turning it again. Again, nothing. His water bill, he knew it was, they had sent him the notice just a couple weeks ago. He guessed they couldn’t wait for their payment till he got paid tomorrow.

Prompto tossed his toothbrush on the counter, “Guess, I’m just getting coffee. That’s only thing that can possibly turn this day around.”

He was not only exhausted but now dirty. Well, at least he felt dirty. Luckily, he didn’t smell. He had taken a shower last night when the water had still been on. But his face felt gross, and his teeth felt grimy. Chewing gum wasn’t helping them feel any cleaner either.

“Just think positive things, Prom. It’s going to be fine.” Prompto encouraged himself as he pushed the thick, red rimmed glasses up onto his nose. “You have three classes today, and then the evening shift at your job, and then you can go home and sleep!”

He nodded.  Things weren’t so bad when he thought about it, it was just a rocky morning. He couldn’t let such minor things ruin the rest of his day, “You can save for more contact lenses, and in the meantime, you can wear these glasses. No biggie!” he adjusted his glasses again. “It’s not like they look bad on me! Then, of course, I can pay my water bill in the morning! It’s all good!”

Prompto walked with a little more liveliness in his steps. He got closer to the small coffee shop, conveniently located right by his campus. He could smell the freshly brewed coffee from here, “Ah, Scholar’s Brew, my pick-me-up since my freshman year!”

Prompto jogged the rest of the way there, pushing open the double doors and bounding in. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, nothing beat the smell of coffee in the morning. He looked around the shop and it wasn’t too busy right now either. Perfect.

“Yo, Prompto,” said the big guy behind the counter.  “The usual?”

“Sup, Gladio!” Prompto greeted as he approached the counter, “Actually, instead of one cappuccino I need at least two. One for here and one to go. Venti. Extra espresso.”

“What the hel- Two, with extra espresso? Man, you’ll be bouncing off the walls all day!” he exclaimed. “Were you up late again last night playing video games or somethin’?”

“Ten-page essay. I totally procrastinated on it.” Prompto rubbed the back of his neck. Gladiolus’ laughter filled the small shop.

“That’s what ya get, ya know?” Gladiolus boomed. “I told ya not to get that game till you were done with it, but no, you just had to have.”

“Come on man, cut me some slack. It’s the only joy I have in life.”

“Only joy? Oh geez, you’ve made it very clear to me that you have never gone on a date or had a girlfriend if a video game is your ‘only joy’.”

Prompto flushed in embarrassment, he was so lucky that there was hardly anyone in here. If there were more than just an elderly couple and a woman and her children here he would have been ten times more embarrassed, “I just.... haven’t found the right person yet.” Prompto insisted, crossing his arms. “No one has really… caught my eye. Trust me! I’m a love expert!”

“Uh-huh, sure. Anything to go with your coffee?”

“I am!” Prompto protested, before turning and heading over to his usual table by the window. “I’ll have a chocolate frosted doughnut with sprinkles, please and thanks, Gladi.”

“Yep, should be out in a few!”  Gladiolus informed. “Iggy, we need two Venti cappuccinos, extra espresso! One for here, one to go! And a chocolate doughnut with sprinkles!”  

The blonde sat down, setting his backpack down on the floor next to his feet. He gently hummed and tapped his fingers against the tabletop as he patiently awaited his order, “Two venti cappuccinos with extra espresso? Plus, a sugary doughnut?” a voice questioned behind him.  “Are you trying to crash and burn?”  

Prompto blinked and then looked behind him, “Yeah, well that’s what happens when-”  He paused when he really got a look at the guy that dare question his coffee motives. He was handsome, very handsome. Smooth, pale skin, dark spiky hair that was perfectly styled, a pair of beautiful, dark stormy eyes that seemed to illuminate behind his dark bangs. In his ears, he had the graduate lobe piercing going on. Six glimmering, dark studs of various sizes adorned them.

When had this guy gotten there? Prompto swallowed hard, he hadn’t been there before, had he? He’s sure he would’ve noticed him when he walked in. Prompto cleared his throat and continued, “When you have a late night.”

The beautiful stranger cocked his head, “Lemme’ guess, you were up till about... 3AM working on a project that’s due today. Reason? You kept putting it off.”

He rose a brow, it was scary how close he was to being accurate, “It was 4AM, thank you, and it was a ten-page essay.”

“I was close,” he replied. “I was off an hour and an essay is considered a project, dude.”

Prompto opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t entirely wrong. An essay was “technically” a writing project. He turned away from the dark haired stranger and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. He wasn’t going to discuss with a stranger a matter that knew nothing about it. He didn’t know him from the gods.

“I’m going to elaborate on why you put off your essay, chocobutt. Street Fighting Kings II came out and,” the stranger paused. Prompto’s ears perked up, he didn’t know whether it was because he called him ‘chocobutt’ or because he had mentioned SFKII. “You put in hours of gameplay trying to perfect the combos of new and old characters in the game.”

Prompto swiftly turned around, “You overheard my conversation with Gladio! That’s how you know all this!”

He raised his hands in defense, “All I heard was the order that you placed.” he said. “I was probably in the bathroom when your conversation with ol’ Gladi went down.”

“Are you… some kind of mage or something then?” Prompto questioned, leaning forward towards his direction. “How did you know?”

“You know how badass that would be if I was?” the stranger asked, leaning forward as well. “I’d be a Time Mage, hands down.”

Time Mage? Prompto couldn’t help but scoff, “Really, dude? Out of all the types of mages you picked the Time Mage?”

“What’s wrong with Time Mages? They can alter reality. They can use slow, haste, warp, and gravity.” the stranger argued. “Just imagine all the conveniences of being a lord of time!”

“Eh, it doesn’t have that many conveniences.” Prompto shrugged. “If you want convenience, Summoner is the way to go.”

“Summoner? How is being a Summoner, in any way, have conveniences?”  the dark haired boy turned his body towards him. “You think having an overgrown pet by your side whenever you want is convenient?”

“Dude, instead of “warping” to wherever you running late to, you ride on the back of Valefor and soar through the clouds!” Prompto beamed. “Or you could summon an adorable chocobo to get you where you need to go!”

“You like chocobos?”

“I love chocobos. They’re my favorite creature in the world!”

The stranger looked down and let out a small laugh, “Oh no wonder the front of your hair looks like a chocobo’s butt then.”

Prompto touched the front of his hair and then frowned, “My hair does not look like a chocobo’s butt!” He shook his head. “We’re off topic! How’d you know all that about me? With my essay and all?”

The stranger chuckled, which made the boy’s heart flutter a bit, “Observation.” he simply answered. “How I know you were up late; you look practically dead and you ordered two large cups of coffee.”

Prompto fidgeted with his glasses, “Well, I guess that was simple enough. What about my procrastination purpose, Mr. Observation? How did you know about SFKII?”

The other boy got up, flung his backpack on his shoulder, and made his way to his table. His boots clunked against the tile floors as he approached, “Mmm, well,” he said, stopping at his table. “I saw you have the limited edition SFKII pin on your backpack, I have it too. So, I know you have the game.”

Prompto held his breath, this guy was even more handsome close-up. And oh gods he smelled so freaking nice!

“If I’ve been putting off homework because of that game, I know you are too.” He tapped his knuckles on his table. “Well, see you chocobutt. Hope you get through your day alright.”

“M-my hair does not look like a chocobo’s butt.” he protested again.

The stranger flashed him a smile, (and when he did, Prompto swore his heart skipped a beat or two.) and started on his way again.

Prompto blinked, trying as hard as he possibly could to peel his eyes away from him.  Though, it was futile. He watched as he paid Gladiolus, as he said goodbye, as he walked out the door, and as he walked down the sidewalk… well, that was up until he looked over at him and smiled at him again. That was when he was able to take his eyes off of him and quickly look in the other direction, Oh gods, he saw me staring at him! He’s gotta think I’m weird.  He pressed his lips together. Wait, why am I freaking out like this?

“Here you are, Prompto. Two venti cappuccinos and a doughnut as you requested.” Ignis placed his coffees and doughnut on the table. “Are you sure you don’t want anything with, say, nutritional value?”

Prompto was in a daze, he could feel his cheeks burning and his heart thumping a mile a minute. He had heard Ignis, but didn’t hear him. “He was so cool,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Ignis asked in a puzzled tone. “Are you feeling alright? Your face is bright pink. Do you need a drink of ice water?”

“Water? Hmm, yeah, it is a little warm in here isn’t?” Prompto said slowly.  “Yeah, water would be nice.”

“Right away.”

“Thanks.”

For the rest of the day, even with coffee in his system, (it was practically running through his veins once he had finished the second cup) Prompto felt out of it.

“When will this feeling go away?” He shut his apartment door, pressing his back against it. “After that encounter with that guy, I’ve been feeling different. My chest is warm and I feel like something is floating around my stomach.”

He shrugged off his backpack and let it fall at his feet, “Maybe it’s because I’m tired and hungry. Moreso tired.”

He kicked off his boots and, went straight to his bed. (It had been calling his name since he left his apartment) The blonde flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He sighed contently, “Time for some shut-eye…” He stretched himself across his mattress, “The best part? I get to sleep in!”

Prompto closed his eyes, but his mind, as it had all day, wandered back to that guy that he encountered at the coffee shop. He sighed aloud, laying on his back and ran his down his hands down his face, “Why am I acting like this?”

He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t know why he kept thinking about him or why he kept wondering why he didn’t ask for his name. He wasn’t sure why his smile was engraved in his mind or why he was praying silently to the gods throughout the day that he would get to see him again soon.

Prompto’s eyes grew wide. “Wait... am I?!” He quickly sat up, he could feel heat spreading across his cheeks. It was all making sense to him now. The fluttering in his stomach was known as butterflies and the warmth in his chest… that was…

“But, that’s crazy. Something like that can’t happen in real life. There’s no such thing as love at first sight, right? Right?” Prompto covered his face with his hands. “I can’t have fallen in love so quickly...”

Though, what else could this possibly be? He was sure it wasn’t merely a crush or infatuation. He had crushes, thousands and upon thousands, and none of them felt like this. This one was different. (A good different.)

He to make sure though. He needed a second opinion. He needed to see him again.

Prompto ran to Scholar’s Brew the next morning (being a runner, he was at the little coffee shop in no time at all). His heart was full of excitement and his mind was filled with all kinds of scenarios of what could happen. But, when he got there he began to think of the things that may not happen. He thought of all the worst case scenarios, mainly the biggest worst case scenario; him not showing up.

He had to have been pacing and fidgeting with the skull ring on his finger for at least ten minutes. It was only until Gladio called him out when he stopped his nervous behavior, “Gods Prompto, are you going to come in or stay out there and pace all day?!”

“I was coming in, I just… thinking!”

“You think? I didn’t know you did that.” Gladiolus grabbed him by the back of his red flannel shirt and dragged him in. “Get your ass in here, Iggy already made you coffee. He said that you shouldn’t let it get cold.”

“Hey, hey, don’t drag me!” Prompto exclaimed, practically falling in the doors. “Lemme’ go, Gladi!”

Gladiolus let him go and once Prompto was released, his head instantly turned in the direction of the beanbag chair where he had met the nameless, mystery man. But, his stomach sank when he saw he wasn’t there. Maybe he just isn’t here yet.

Prompto pressed his lips and sat at his usual table. He picked up his freshly brewed coffee and took a sip. Yeah, don’t jump to conclusions. There’s still a chance I’ll get to maybe see him.

“Hey, what’s with that look? The coffee bitter or somethin’?” Gladiolus cocked a brow.

“My coffee? Bitter? Preposterous!” Ignis exclaimed from the kitchen.

“No, the coffee’s great as usual, Ig!” he trailed off. “Just great…!”

Gladio folded his arms, “Ya know what you’re going through is really none of my business. But, if you need to talk, I’m willing to listen.”  

Prompto was hesitant for a moment, but then figured, why not? What did he have to lose? He had no one else to talk about his situation with anyway. He picked up his coffee and took a seat at the bar. He took in a deep breath and looked at Gladio, “Remember when I said video games were my only joy in life, yesterday?”

“Mm, yeah, why?”

“Well, I think I may have a bigger and greater joy now.” Prompto took in another deep breath and whispered loudly. “I think I’ve fallen in love.”

“In love? What? When? With whom?” Ignis questioned coming from around the corner, looking quite curious.

Gladiolus chuckled, “Didn’t know you were listenin’ in, Iggs.”

“I wasn’t, just merely caught ear of it.” Ignis turned his attention from Gladiolus to Prompto. “Come now, Prompto. Who’s the girl? How recently did you meet her?”

Prompto took a big gulp of his coffee, then let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, we met yesterday and… who said anything about it being a girl?”

“Oh, so you swing both ways, huh?” Gladiolus nodded in understanding. “Well, then let’s rephrase that. Who’s the guy?”

“I don’t know,” Prompto admitted with eyes casting downward. “I met him here yesterday, and I didn’t catch his name.”

Gladiolus and Ignis looked at him for a moment and then at each other. Ignis spoke up first, “Could it be who we are both thinking of?”

“Hasta’ be! I did see them talkin’ yesterday.”

The two older men looked back at him and unison said, “Noct.”

“Noct?” Prompto repeated.  

“Yes. Well, his full name is, Noctis. Gladiolus and I have known him since we kids.” Ignis explained.  “He lived here in Lucis most his life but moved to Altissia for a while due to his father’s work. He just recently came back for college. Not sure why he didn’t come back his freshman year.”

“Yeah, he came back… almost a month ago?” Gladiolus looked puzzledly at Prompto. “Surprised you two haven’t met till now, you both go to the same University, and hang around here.”

Prompto thought about it a moment. It was a little strange, he practically knew everyone or at least their faces. He was sure as hell he’d remember a face like Noct’s.

“Noct does go to the private side of IU. Prompto probably goes to the normal side.”  Ignis rubbed his chin. “You know, that would explain his behavior change and flushed face when he left yesterday.”  

“Well, speak of the devil. Guess we’re going to find out if he’s a love stricken pup or not right now.”

Prompto felt his heart leap into his throat, he peered out the front door behind him. It was him, Noctis. He looked as good as yesterday, no actually… he looked more handsome. Was that even possible, to get handsome in one day? He looked away, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

“G’morning Gladio, specs.” Noctis greeted as he entered the shop.

“Morning.” the two reply.

Prompto suddenly felt Noctis’ eyes on him. He took a large gulp of his coffee as if it were going to calm his fried nerves.

“Morning, chocobutt.” Maybe it’s just him, but Prompto swears Noctis greeted him in a more gentler way.

“Good morning, stranger.” Prompto manages to get out, turning towards him.

“Noctis, don’t be rude,” Ignis scolded. Prompto actually doesn’t mind the nickname all that much, it’s starting to grow on him. “Noctis, this is Prompto. Prompto, this is Noctis.”

Noctis smiled and extended out one of his hands, “Nice to meet you, Prompto.”

Prompto found himself smiling back, “Likewise.” he replied, taking Noctis’ hand in his.

In that very moment that he took his hand, everything felt like it… clicked. There was no doubt in his mind now; he really had fallen in love. As crazy and far-fetched as it seemed, he was already crazy about Noct. He was someone he wanted to be with, he wanted to learn about, to explore with, to hug, to kiss, to cherish. He didn’t want to ever let go of his hand.

“Yeah, it’s obvious,” Gladiolus said to Ignis.

“Quite,” Ignis agreed, with a nod of his head. “This shall be interesting.”

[mldrgrl]

Origins

by: mldrgrl rated: R (language) summary: Hank meets Stella’s mother

Hank could tell there was something on Stella’s mind from the moment she got home.  She put her things down and shook off her coat at the door.  He had the pages of a new manuscript in his lap, a red pen in one hand, and a drink on his knee.  She came over to the couch and sat beside him, tucking her legs up under her before she reached for his glass and took a sip.

“What’s on your mind, Sherlock?” he asked.

She took another sip of his whiskey and then sucked the aftertaste off her teeth.  “Are you free tomorrow afternoon?” she asked.

“I could be.”

“If you’re not, you don’t have to change plans.”

“It wouldn’t be changing plans, per se.  What’s up?”

“I’ve been summoned to tea at Harrod’s.  I’d like you to come with me.”

Hank flipped the pages of his manuscript into order and then leaned over to place the stack of paper on the table.  He dropped his red pen there as well and then lay back against the couch, inclined towards Stella.  He put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze.

“Do I ring Jeeves and have him lay out my top hat and tails?”

“You can wear what you’d like.”

“Who are we having tea with?”

Stella downed the rest of Hank’s whiskey and tipped her head back as she swallowed.  “My mother.”

*****

Hank was both surprised and intrigued at the turn of events that had him strolling through Harrod’s on his way to tea.  Stella wouldn’t offer him any more information about the meeting except to say that her mother had asked and she had agreed to it.  He didn’t know to believe her or not when she said she had no idea why her mother had called.  What little information he knew about her family she tended to dole out in piecemeal.

Normally, Hank didn’t care all that much about meeting a girlfriend’s family, but he’d been with Stella for over three years now and the mother was all the family Stella had.  Of course, he supposed she could have a crazy uncle squirreled away somewhere, but she’d never mentioned one.  Maybe it would be good for her to mend the rift.

Stella told Hank to meet her by the elevators before she left for work that morning.  He came upon her as she leaned against a marble column, arms about her waist and head down.  She was dressed impeccably, like any other work day, but there was also something that told him she’d taken extra special, very particular care in her appearance that day.  Her hair was curled in thick rolls and styled off her face.  Both her black pencil skirt and grey blouse looked freshly pressed.  Even her overcoat looked sleek and new, even though he’d seen her wear it a hundred times.

“Hey,” he said, sliding his arm around her waist.  He tucked his sunglasses into his pocket and then bent to kiss her cheek, fairly confident that if he smudged her lipstick by kissing her mouth, there’d be hell to pay.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, holding on to one of the lapels on his leather jacket.

“Of course.”  He offered her his arm like a gentleman and she rolled her eyes a little before she took it.

After they checked Stella’s coat, the maître d' showed them to the table where Stella’s mother was already waiting.  Hank’s first impression was one of surprise.  For one thing, she looked nothing like her daughter.  Though sitting, he could tell Stella’s mother was tall.  She had an athletic build and he could see her playing tennis regularly.  Her hair had once been dark, but was now elegantly streaked with grey, ruler straight and bluntly cut at her shoulders.  Her eyes were blue, but much darker than Stella’s.  The only real family resemblance was the same tight-lipped mouth and slightly protruding upper lip.

“Mother,” Stella said, nodding to her mother as the maître d' pulled her chair out.

“Hello, Stella,” her mother said.

“Mother, this is Hank.  Hank, this is my mother, Evelyn Blanchard.”

“You may call me, Mrs. Blanchard,” Stella’s mother said, holding a slightly limp wrist out to Hank.

“Lovely to meet you,” Hank said, taking the older woman’s hand and kissing her knuckles.  “You may call me, Hank.”

It was going to be a long and awkward tea, Hank was sure of it.  He ordered a whiskey, only after Mrs. Blanchard ordered a kir royale.  Stella, obligated to return to work later in the day, got a seltzer.  A procession of scones and finger sandwiches began to be delivered to the table.

All his life, Hank was pretty famous for never knowing when to keep his mouth shut, but in this situation, he kept his mouth shut.  Most of the time, he felt like he was eavesdropping on the conversation of two strangers.

“Is Albert well?” Stella asked.  Hank knew that Albert was her stepfather.

“He organized a charity golf tournament last month,” Mrs. Blanchard answered, buttering a scone.  “You know how he adores golf.”

“Yes, I remember.  What was the charity?”

“I don’t remember.”

Another painful interchange soon followed.

“Our neighbors had a flood,” Mrs. Blanchard said.  “Dreadful.”

“Oh?” Stella said.

“Their gardner broke a pipe.  He was let go, of course.”

“Was it not by accident?”

“Carelessness is equally offensive as incompetence.  One can not tolerate either.”

Amazingly, Hank was able to stay silent on his side of the table.  Mrs. Blanchard asked nothing of him or about him, and he offered nothing in return.  Every interjection that came to mind was highly inappropriate and he simply amused himself with witty retorts that stayed in his head.

“You haven’t asked about Clementine,” Mrs. Blanchard said.

“How is Clementine?” Stella asked.

“Who’s Clementine?” Hank asked, feeling it safe to speak at that moment.

“Stella’s sister,” Mrs. Blanchard answered.

“Stepsister,” Stella clarified.  “Albert’s daughter.”

Mrs. Blanchard lowered her voice a bit.  “Clementine and Clifford have separated.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Stella said.  She sipped her seltzer and picked at her fingernails with one hand, something she did when she was either bored or nervous.

“You remember Imogen, of course.”

“Clementine’s daughter,” Stella supplied for Hank.  “Yes, though I’m sure the last time I saw her she was not yet walking.  Her christening, perhaps.”

“She hasn’t handled the separation very maturely.”

“What do you mean by maturely?  Isn’t she still a child?”

“Sixteen, nearly seventeen, and I mean, she’s been getting herself into trouble.  It’s all for attention, really, as you know.”

Hank cocked his head after taking a sip of his whiskey and looked at Stella.  She had her cool, stoic expression in place, but he could see her jaw tighten a bit.

“What kind of trouble?” Stella asked.

“Really quite minor, but she’s been taken into a youth facility.”

“Youth facilities aren’t for minor infractions, Mother.  What did she do?”

“Well, there was the matter of truancy.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, graffiti or vandalism or some such thing.  Minor.”

“Mother.”  Stella sighed.  “You’ll not help Imogen by refusing to admit there’s a problem.”

“Perhaps you could hasten her release.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Mrs. Blanchard’s face grew pinched and her eyes narrowed a bit.  She lifted her chin like a woman who was unaccustomed to hearing the word ‘no.’  The mood, though rather chilly to begin with, grew even icier.

“I believe you could help the family if you really desired to,” Mrs. Blanchard said.  “Then again, you’ve always been selfish.”

“Hey, now,” Hank said, unable to stop himself from interjecting on Stella’s behalf, but she put a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze.

“I have no authority to have a juvenile offender released,” Stella said.  “Especially when the sole reason is to spare you the embarrassment of a troubled granddaughter.”

“That’s simply preposterous, she’s Albert’s granddaughter, not mine.”

“Even if your motives were noble, which I am in no doubt they are not, the most I could do is obtain a copy of her casefile and request an interview with her.”

Mrs. Blanchard dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the linen napkin that had been draped across her lap.  She stared coldly at Stella for a moment and then picked up her teacup and saucer and took a sip of her tea.

“I was always surprised,” the old woman said.  “That you would enter law enforcement knowing full well how your father felt about the police.  I’m quite sure it would have broken his heart.  And you, daddy’s little dearheart.  If he could see you now.”

“Lady, you’re out of line,” Hank said.  He could feel his blood pressure rising with every word out of Mrs. Blanchard’s mouth.

“And taking an American lover.”  Mrs. Blanchard shook her head slightly and took another sip of tea.  “You know how he felt about Americans.”  

“Seriously, what the fuck is your problem?”

Stella stood calmly and dropped her napkin on the table before smoothing her skirt.  “Thank you for tea, Mother.  If Clementine would like me to speak with Imogen, please have her ring me.”  She put a hand on Hank’s arm as he stood as well.  “I need to retrieve my coat.”

Hank waited for Stella to walk away and then he leaned over the table and closer to her mother.  “Lady, you are a piece of work,” he said.  “I should feel sorry for you that have no idea what a brilliant, compassionate, strong and hardworking daughter you have, but that's clearly no credit to you.”

“My daughter may be dazzling on the short term, but make no mistake, she is a spider,” Mrs. Blanchard hissed.  “A black widow spider.  It’s best to stay clear of her web lest she devour you whole.  You’d be wise to take my advice and get out while you can.”

“Stella and I have been together for over three years, you ignorant cuntface.”

“Young man, lower your voice.”

“Don’t condescend to me, you old hag.  You think I give a shit what anyone in this tea parlor thinks?  In fact, maybe I’ll just raise my voice a little more and take a poll on who here thinks you’re a giant cunty mccuntface.”

“What kind of a man speaks to a woman with such vulgarity?  I am Stella's mother, and you-”

“Lady, I don't care whose mother you are,” he interrupted.  “Stella's mother, the queen mother, or Mother fucking Theresa, you don't get to be a spiteful bitch and not get called out on it.”

Stella’s mother finally put down her tea and had the decency to look annoyed.  “I believe it’s time for you to leave,” she said.

“And I believe, the next time you think about contacting your daughter, it better be to apologize.”  Hank straightened, though his shoulders were still tight with anger.  “By the way, if your neighbor is anything like you, I’d say the broken pipe was deliberate.”

Just to spite, Hank swiped a finger sandwich off the three-tiered tray on the table as he left.  Once upon a time, he may have just upturned the table, but he had more self-control these days than that.  Stella was at the coat check, just sliding into her coat as the clerk held it for her.  Hank took out his wallet and slipped some money into the slot at his station and then put his hand on Stella’s back as she pulled her hair free of her collar.

“Can we go?” Hank asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

He waited until they left Harrod’s and made it to the corner before he stopped Stella by taking her elbow.

“I need to return to work,” she said.

“Stella, what just happened in there?”

“We’ll talk later.  I promise.”

“Stella-”

Stella cut him off by taking his chin in one hand and bringing his head down for a quick kiss.  “I’ll see you at home.”

And then she was gone.  He’d tried to gauge her mood in the elevator and she seemed fine, but he didn’t know how she could be.  She tended to keep those personal emotions very close to the vest though.  He was still agitated and he needed to find a way to burn off some of that steam, so he just decided to walk.  As he strolled through Hyde Park, he pulled out his phone.  Becca answered on the fourth ring.

“Father,” Becca said.  “It’s early.”

“Sincerest apologies, Daughter,” he said.  “I didn’t even look at the time.”

“What’s going on?”  He could hear the yawn in her voice.

“Nothing.  I just wanted to call and tell you I love you.”

“Are you dying?”

“No, I’m not dying.  Will you do me a favor, Becca?”

“Sure, Dad.”

“Call your mother and tell her you love her.”

“Is Mom dying?”

“No one’s dying, just please call her and tell her you love her because you’re so lucky to have a mom who loves you and thinks the world of you.  Do you know that?”

“If no one is dying, I’m going back to bed.”

“I love you, Becca.”

“Okay, love you too, Dad.”

Hank didn’t feel like he stayed out walking for quite as long as he did.  It was almost dark by the time he got home and he was surprised that Stella was already there.  She was even showered, her face scrubbed free of make-up, and in her robe reading a book on the sofa.

“Sit beside me,” Stella said, closing her book and wedging it between the cushion and the arm of the couch.

Hank pulled his jacket off and draped it over a chair before he slumped beside her on the couch.  She put her arm around him and he rested his head against her chest.  His eyes fell shut as she ran her nails over his head, scratching lightly.

“Becca called me,” Stella said.  “I had to assure her that neither you or Karen had recently been diagnosed with an incurable disease.”

“She called you?”

“You frightened her.”

“I want to be sorry, but I’m glad she felt comfortable calling you.”  He tipped his head up a little to look at her.

“I am as well.  And I told her you’d been upset by an encounter with my mother.”

“You told her?”

Stella pulled her neck back to look down at him.  “Why would I not?”

“It’s…”

“When you ask me why I haven’t tried to make contact with my mother in all these years, now you know.”

“Did you agree to tea to prove a point?”  Hank pulled back from her a little so he could look directly into her eyes.

“God, no.”  She petted his hair back and shook her head.  “I agreed to tea because she rang me up and asked.  I was fairly certain she wanted something from me.  I’ve not heard from her for over fifteen years.”

“I called her a cuntface after you left.”

“Defending my honor like a true gentleman.”

Hank was quiet and let Stella stroke his hair for a bit.  He was trying not to be upset about this, but he just couldn't help but be pissed off at the nerve of that woman.  That bitch.  That cunty mccuntface.

“I just...she really pissed me off, you know?” he said.

“I do know.”

“Didn’t she piss you off?”

Stella hummed as a response and kissed Hank’s head.  “I feel terribly sorry for her,” she said.  “She’s a jealous, bitter, unhappy woman and she has been my entire life.  At one time I found that very upsetting.  Now, I simply find her pathetic.”

“I once...one time I got into an argument with Becca and I told her I hated her.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”

“No, I did.  In that moment, I really hated her.  I loved her, but I just really fucking hated her too.  I would literally rather die than ever say that to her again.”

“I have no doubt you love Becca.  And I know Becca has no doubts either.”

“I know I fucked up a lot, but I can’t imagine how I would feel...how she would feel if…”

“She would be hurt for a very long time, but eventually she would find a way to come to terms with it.”

Hank sighed and pulled himself out of Stella’s arms.  He stretched his arm out along the back of the couch and she leaned against him.

“What are you gonna do about that girl?” he asked.

“I requested a copy of her file and I'll need permission from Clementine if I'm to speak to her,” Stella replied.  “Depending on her crime and the facility she's been placed in, it may just be the best thing for her.”

“Why didn't I know you had a sister?”

“Stepsister, Hank.  She's at least eighteen years my junior and my mother married Albert when I was nearly thirty.  We're not even slightly acquainted.”

“Still.  Any other partial relatives laying around either by blood or marriage I should know about?”

“None I can think of.”

“Thank god, fighting with old ladies takes a lot out of me.”

“We better get you to bed, then.”

“Are you coming on to me, Sherlock?”

“Why don’t you join me upstairs and find out, Watson.”

The End