#society if we had more team ups with these two in the show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fxllfaiiry · 1 year ago

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─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team.

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving.

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far.

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in.

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not.

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months.

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing.

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you.

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday.

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said.

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him.

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually.

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed.

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best.

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage.

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance.

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears.

"Well, you gotta try, Boss."

"Sunflower used to call me that."

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten."

"Lyla, that's enough-"

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much."

"I don't-"

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office.

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you.

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly.

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her."

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything.

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you.

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest.

You were moving on.

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something.

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace.

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch.

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice.

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it.

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed.

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen.

"Just listen to me for a second."

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself.

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely."

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better.

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm in love with you." What?

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay." You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue.

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth?

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered.

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him.

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline.

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that.

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him.

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there.

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance.

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks.

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever.

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him.

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-"

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day.

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back.

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly.

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much."

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently.

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically.

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned.

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family.

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now.

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise.

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that."

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?"

"I have my ways."

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret.

"I have my ways." Jess winked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again.

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new.

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence.

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed.

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers.

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back.

So, you finally decided to tell him.

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Miguel."

"Hm?"

"I forgive you."

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically.

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly.

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance."

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently.

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you.

"I want you to go out on a date with me."

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date.

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you.

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening.

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled.

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

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queenvhagar · 5 months ago

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I believe Rhys Ifans’ statement “Both sides are genocidal war criminals… I think we should all enjoy seeing how they die[,]” would be wrong because the entire time the story HOTD is fundamentally about how one group, the greens, IE Alicent, Otto, and Aegon Hightower, seek to maintain the status quo of an oppressive power structure versus Rhaenyra, the blacks, whose very existence seeks to jeopardize that power structure (the patriarchal society of Westeros).

It is made explicitly clear that the chief architect of team green in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne that the only reason that they cannot have Rhaenyra on the throne is explicitly because she is a woman. It’s a theme that is present throughout the entirety of HOTD’s season one as this conflict builds up.

For instance, the conversation between Alicent and Rhaenys at the end of season one where Alicent justifies why she is participating in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne to Rhaenys by saying that it is not a woman’s place to rule the Seven kingdoms and instead it is a woman’s place to gently guide the hand of the men who do rule.

The story of HOTD, the civil war for the succession of the Iron Throne following the death of Viserys, the Dance of the Dragons, is fundamentally a conflict that is built on the foundation of misogyny and the writers are making that explicitly clear.

The weird false equivalency when ppl imply that both sides are equally genocidally crazy, that treads to reduce the nature of this conflict down to just simple good old fashioned greed which it really isn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Rhaenyra is perfect and of course I understand that over the course of the war, she’s going to do some pretty terrible things but it’s been made pretty clear that Rhaenyra’s done everything in her power to avoid this turning out into a war in the fist place.

I just don’t think by any stretch of the imagination regardless of what Rhaenyra does throughout this war, that you’re supposed to enjoy watching her die. I don’t think that’s how her character is written and I don’t think that’s what the narrative goal of her end is supposed to be. Her character is a character by all accounts some victim of the patriarchal society that she lives in. Even if she does go down the “mad queen route,” it will only be to explore how the patriarchal society has completely twisted her. How this war that was started because she dared to be queen of the seven kingdoms completely ruined her and ruined her family.

I would very much appreciate your thoughts on this and would like to learn more if this take of mine is confusing and blinded.

I think this take might be correct if you're solely going off of the show and its interpretation of Team Black as modern feminists attempting revolutionary societal change led by divinely ordained and pure Rhaenyra vs Team Green as conservative misogynists led by incompetent and unorganized abuser Aegon...

Fire and Blood is not this, though. Sexism and misogyny is one element of power and power imbalance in Westeros but it's not the only one, nor is it the only factor into why Rhaenyra's claim was disputed, despite what the showrunners are trying to portray on screen.

The reality is two ideologically different sides with fairly equal claims to the throne are trying to seize power, leading to a war that ruins the land and the family that started it. Team Green has Aegon, firstborn son of the last king, following Andal tradition going back thousands of years and most recently reinforced in the Council of 101 AC that made his own father king. Team Black has Rhaenyra, eldest daughter named by the previous king but not supported by precedent. Rhaenyra unfortunately also had some political scandals that went against her in having bastards, having Velaryons killed and mutilated, and marrying Daemon despite fear of him in power being the reason she was named heir in the first place. Any of these are valid reasons why some people might be against her coming into power. It's more than "she's a woman and I don't like women."

Rhaenyra did not press her claim to raise up the women of the realm, nor did she do it out of a desire to save the world. She wanted it because she wanted power that was promised to her. But the show can't let women simply want things for themselves. Rhaenyra has to be an advocate for peace and want the throne for some higher purpose instead of just wanting power for power's sake.

The Greens were motivated by power to push for Aegon's claim, and surely misogyny in the society helped to get Aegon on the throne, but they also put Aegon on the throne out of fear for the lives of all of Viserys' sons, who would have to be taken out of the picture to secure Rhaenyra's atypical claim lest war and rebellion potentially break out against her at any point in her reign, and Team Black had already shown willingness to resort to violence to help themselves (Rhea's death, Laenor's death, Vaemond's death, Velaryons' tongues getting cut out, Aemond's eye cut out without any punishment and instead Aemond threatened with torture over speaking the truth about Rhaenyra). It's not just "we hate the idea of a woman ruling, we hate women, and we're terrible, incompetent people."

Fire and Blood is a tale of two sides fighting for even more power than they already have who are willing to do horrible terrible war crimes against each other and innocents in order to obtain their end goal of the Iron Throne, and realistically you are interested in seeing all of them die and face the consequences of their actions. The story has weight, the characters are real and human and messy and tragic, the war is unjustified in its means and methods and purpose. It's the failure of Viserys' legacy and a reflection of the flaws of monarchy and specifically the ideals Targaryen supremacy. No side is right and the other wrong. Nobody's a hero.

This is where the show has failed in its adaptation. It has abandoned its themes, along with several characters, characterizations, and plot points, in order to create their own narrative that fits a story that they think will sell best to the casual modern viewer: essentially, redemption for Daenerys fans after the catastrophe of Game of Thrones' ending. By making up prophecy and dream stuff to give to Rhaenyra and also giving her some of that Dany "change the world" mentality that was absent in the source material, the writers can cut apart the character of Rhaenyra and make her into a new Daenerys, and this time they can give the fans want they wanted for Daenerys. Except Rhaenyra is not Daenerys at all, and their only similarity is dragon riding queen seeking to inherit their father's throne. Changing the narrative so Rhaenyra becomes the new Daenerys and a true hero of the story ruins the underlying themes of Fire and Blood and specifically the Dance.

Rhys Ifans likely read Fire and Blood and actually knows what he's talking about. The point of the Dance isn't "heroic woman attempting to overthrow the patriarchy is burned and destroyed by the patriarchy and agents of the patriarchy." The takeaway isn't just "misogyny and sexism are bad and hurt women" like the show hammers in so heavily every single episode. It's "the pursuit of power by the already powerful comes at the cost of innocents, war is never justified no matter what (and certainly not justified by manifest destiny, someone's dream of saving the world, or even 'misogynists stole my throne') and the violence of war destroys indiscriminately." There should be catharsis when gray characters who have done good but also horrific bad in the pursuit of power finally face the consequences and die early deaths. Like, for example, the end of Succession: none of the Roy siblings get what they want, and we understand why, and even though parts of their character are sympathetic and tragic to us, we can objectively view them as flawed and selfish people whose decisions led to this ultimate, inevitable conclusion where they don't get what they want, and it's deserved. This is what House of the Dragon should have been. Tragic, flawed characters on both sides acting selfishly but realistically to seize power from each other and ultimately failing. But the writers opted for an oversimplified morality tale of good vs evil to push their version of feminism into the story where it doesn't belong, at the detriment to the characters and the story to the point it goes against the themes and messages of the source material.

#asks #hotd critical #anti hotd

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justagirlandhersims · 2 months ago

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I truly believe this new version of the Blackpool Combat Club is what creative hoped The Elite angle would be. While Matt and Nick are a great tag team, their strength as heels is comedy (side note - Okada has turned out to have some pretty good comedic chops as well). If you're trying to "take over" a promotion, can we really take you seriously if you're wearing your weight in grandma's pearls? If anything, the only one who seems to have understood the assignment in The Elite is Jack Perry.

On the other hand, the new BCC is brutal. They have a mission and are singularly focused in accomplishing it. They have shown in a short time how far they are willing to go to "save" AEW. Moxley has always been known for his mastery in violence, while Matt and Nick's heel personas have always been more "douchebag frat bro". What a takeover needs is ruthlessness, violence, brutality - all the things that Moxley, Claudio, PAC and Marina (who is finally being used properly!) have in spades. Wheeler is their newest disciple and his turn was telegraphed beautifully by this shot:

Wheeler, who has been by Bryan's side. Who was forced to watch the BCC turn on his hero. Who was struggling to understand how Claudio (who lets be honest is his tough love father figure) could "abandon" a club Wheeler gave his blood, sweat and tears to. That Wheeler is reaching out for help (after being attacked viciously by the aforementioned father figure) while Bryan plays to the audience. Did Bryan eventually go and check on Wheeler? Yes. But I think by that time, the damage (both physically and emotionally) had already been done.

Now we come to the end of Wrestledream last night. This is one of the final shots before the PPV went off the air. Why? Because these are the people who will be leading the fight against this new Blackpool Combat Club. Who do we have?

Darby Allin - the handpicked successor of Sting. The very Sting who led the charge in World Championship Wrestling against the New World Order. Darby has had a tough time of it lately (both in and out of the ring - who gets hit by a bus and then goes to a play afterwards?). He has been a little lost now that Sting has retired. He was even handed his first coffin match loss. Moxley pretty much offered him a spot in the new BCC but Darby doubled down and pledged his loyalty to AEW. His fight against Brody King last night showed he is willing and able to go against seemingly insurmountable odds... and win.

Orange Cassidy - this man has become the heart of AEW. From a gimmick to hands down the best International champion this company has had. That speech (not a promo, a speech... in ring and heartfelt) he gave before his match against Moxley for the international belt at All Out last year? That was when we saw the beginnings of Orange Cassidy, the leader. This year, he has been betrayed by not one but TWO of his best friends. He knows what it is like to believe in a faction, in a group of friends and have that blow up in your face. He has clawed his way back with The Conglomeration (which, who knew that would turn out to be the faction we all needed right now), which shows his resilience. And much like Darby, he has never turned his back on AEW.

Daniel Garcia - I'm going to be honest... I didn't like him at the beginning. I especially didn't like him under the Jericho Appreciation Society (but the JAS was a joke from the get go, so I can't really fault him for that). The dancing... I could have done without. BUT I understand why the audience loved it. He has the same amount of potential Bryan did when William Regal started mentoring him. I'm not just stating my opinion - Bryan himself has said as much. While MJF betraying him wasn't that surprising or life changing, it opened Daniel's eyes to the "worst" part of AEW (kayfabe wise, not in real life - MJF is meant to be the personification of the overblown ego of a wrestler). His contract came up and what did he do? He recommitted to AEW and when Bryan was attacked, he came out to help. Because like so many younger wrestlers in the back, Bryan is his hero.

Hook - Let's be honest. Hook could have coasted on his father's name and reputation. TAZ is so well respected (and rightfully so), we all know doors were opened for Hook that may not have been available to others. But unlike a lot of nepo babies in the business, Hook has put in the work to become a solid technical wrestler. He doesn't have the ego one would associate with a nepo baby. He happily looks up to and takes mentorship from those around him (except Jericho but ignoring anything Jericho says is a sound life strategy). And like his father, he has put his lot completely in with All Elite Wrestling.

Not pictured: Eddie Kingston. Eddie can turn out to be such an amazing addition to this storyline. Think about it. His brother from another mother Jon has aligned himself fully (and brutally) with his mortal enemy Claudio. Bryan spent a good month and change belittling Eddie. At the same time, Eddie loves wrestling. Anyone with half a brain knows how much this man lives and breathes this sport. So what will he do when he returns? Will he set aside his hatred of Claudio and align with Jon? Will he avenge the honor of someone who called him the "king of the bums"? Or will he (and this is what I think will happen) become just as much a leader of the locker room as Bryan has been since he came to AEW?

Now finally, let's talk about Bryan's last run. He has said in recent interviews that Tony Khan wanted him to have that Wembley moment. That was not a creative decision he made. TK did it out of respect and I can understand his reasoning. But Bryan didn't want his end to be in service of himself. Instead, he picked Moxley to "retire" him. He used his final match to set up a civil war within AEW - a storyline which will bear a lot of fruit in the coming year. This will also set him up to come back (once this poor man's body gets the rest and recovery it so desperately needs) as a leader for the next generation. He will be the new William Regal but without the darkness that Regal freely admits he carried within himself.

Every single person involved in this angle deserves a standing ovation. Not just for their wrestling prowess but for the emotional weight they added to it. Wheeler alone deserves some sort of award for the turmoil he's shown week in and week out since All Out. You could hear the tears in Excalibur's voice as he tried to finish his duties as commentator. The look on Bryce's face when he called the match for Moxley... that hurt my heart. Darby struggling against so.much.tape in a vain attempt to help Bryan. Hell, his face as he came to the conclusion (whether right or wrong) that this wouldn't have happened if he beat Moxley.

What really got me though? The screams of "no" when Wheeler stood up after checking on Bryan. He hadn't even done anything yet but we all saw the train wreck happening in slow motion. That's how you know a story has been told well.

I for one cannot wait to see where all of this takes us. I have been a wrestling fan for over 30 years. I was watching live when the nWo formed. To see a new, fresh and even more brutal take on that iconic storyline is an absolute treat for me.

So thank you, Bryan. Thank you Blackpool Combat Club. Thank you Orange Cassidy, Darby and Private Party. Thank you to every single person who brought this story to life.

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opal-owl-flight · 2 months ago

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A rousing victory on all fronts!!

You can hear the team chanting the Sploon1 victory theme from here.

This is the best outcome that 3 could ever have hoped for. A Splatfest they were allowed to fight in, AND theyre winning team? Its a dream come true.

And Team Past winning is a message that they had hoped to hear for reasons that hit close to home.

On the more personal side, they chose this team because they had one good memory, one good year, and that single point in their life is going to keep them going. Theyre going to work so they can make more of that experience for themself.

Theyre a nostalgic soul. They want things to be simple like when they first turned 14 and left home.

But thats not all.

They believe that there has to be a return to form between the nations that participated in this fest. Long ago, they were all in harmony until the waters rose. Now that the nations are together again, they want them to just think of the music, the art, the food, the culture they can share with each other instead of fighting all the time.

Team past winning could be a show of a similar sentiment. Bury the hatchet. Lets hold hands like how we did it back then. Fucks sake -- most of Inkadia isnt even aware of Octaria. They were kind of just forgotten.

Inkadia is willing to open their arms again. Octaria is still a lil skittish but itll get better. They have reason to be, anyway.

Thing abt the two nations is that -- for several years now, migrations and travel have been more or less commonplace. Lots of Octarians in Inkopolis now, thanks to the platoon's help. Most people have relations with an Octarian. Inkadia didnt notice it at first. When they did though, there was apprehension. Thats where 3s peace talks come in.

Beyond the powers that be, regular Inkadians saw no reason to fear the Octarians (unless theyre part of those idiot fringe groups similar to Cuttlefish before). Theyve known these guys for years now, theres no harm.

The grandfest is Inkadia finally shaking hands with Octaria officially. Now even Octavio feels safe in bringing the dome dwellers up. Only reason he was strict with travel in the first place was his fear of Inkadians being nasty to his people.

Admittedly...yes, they were nasty to his people for a while. There was this subconcious bias/expectation that the Octarians should act a certain way to be accepted. To leave behind what made them Octarian, to blend in, assimilate. More passionate Octarians were usually excluded. There have been movements to bring light to these issues, which the platoon also participates in, and slowly but surely things changed for the better. Its not 100% perfect yet but its still moving forward.

And then team past wins?? Its like Inkadia is saying "we fucked up. Were sorry. How can we make up for it?"

It wasnt about returning to the past, (though the past that these winners fight for is a past when the two nations were in harmony) its all about learning from their mistakes to make a better present and future.

The win meant that society is acknowledging that theyve made mistakes and are willing to make up for it.

Its the best result for 3, really. They want Inkadia to face the fucking facts while they make up for everything theyve done wrong. They are an agent that relies on previous experience to get better. They observe past actions, they look at previous mistakes bit too much Ill say and think of how to improve themself (and others.)

To get better, you have to study the past. This is true for battle, and also personal growth.

3 has so much hope for the future bc of this, and they never thought theyd ever hope again.

Knowing that Inkadians are willing to do that effort really makes them believe in their nation more.

Their peace talks with the powers that be and their efforts of helping Octarians integrate with the surface Inkadians have paid off at last,,

Bc Inkadians tjemselves said that they want to make things better than how things were before

Theyre not alone in that fight anymore.

The Grizzco raids that stole a billion eggs back from the corporation was the first sign...and this win confirms their hopes.

---------

THIS IS SUCH A LONG ONE BUT YEAH!! 3 IS UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY FOR ONCE!!!

#splatoon #splatoon fanart #agent 3 #captain 3 #splatoon promo kids #grand festival #grand fest splatoon #splatoon grand festival #opal owl’s nest #LMAO I WISH I HAD THE GRAPHIC FOR THE SHIRT #they then proceeded to dunk 3 into a vat of tacticooler soda

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restlessmaknae · 4 months ago

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your heart is the target // jay

The last thing Jay expected when striking a fake dating deal with you was to get jealous (and ultimately, to fall head over heels for you).

➳ Characters: rich business student!Jay x professional archer!female reader/you

➳ Genre: fake dating au, high society au, olympics au, fluff, comedy

➳ Words: 5.5k

➳ Warning: mentions of food & drinks; vocab related to archery such as the usage of the words 'shooting' 'aim' and 'target'; my knowledge regarding archery comes from watching the Olympics, online research and this archery glossary, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong! Jay is big time jealous in the first scene and big time in denial in the third one, so excuse him, he's just hiding his big heart!

➳ A/N: This story was heavily inspired by the Olympics, ISAC, 'Brought the heat back' aka the perfect jealousy song and this short on Youtube.

It's also a spin-off to 'how to cross the line?' with Jake and 'red light, green light' with Sunghoon which both take place before this one, but this story can absolutely be read on its own. ❤️

Apparently, Jay didn’t think through what kind of consequences the fake dating would bring about, and how he would react to them. To be precise, to boys around you.

But it did save him time, money, and let’s be honest, mental energy to not spend so much of his time going on blind dates his mother used to send him off to. Even though he would have plenty of time to meet girls at university, most of them only talked to him because he was 1) a rugby player for the college team 2) he had a lot of money and 3) he was handsome. He wanted more than that, but he didn’t seem to have too much luck, and it didn’t help that both of his university friends - Jake and Sunghoon - already had girlfriends, so whenever they spent time together, he felt like he was fifth wheeling.

So really, it was a sensible deal between you and him, even more so because you were a professional archer, training for the Olympics, so you had even less time to focus on dating than he did. So realising that both of you were fed up with the unfruitful blind dates you had to attend when you two had been set up, you had struck a deal. You would pretend to date for the sake of your families and yourselves, but if either of you found someone they actually liked in the meantime, you would call it off. Otherwise, you could take advantage of the other as a plus one at events, further minimising the chances of shallow-minded boys or girls coming up to you two in hopes of seducing you.

However, sitting through the opening ceremony of a music hall that Jay’s parents built where most people knew who you were wasn’t the same as accompanying you to your birthday party where all kinds of boys showed up he hadn’t seen before. Even the sight of them around you angered him, but the way they mistook him for someone else was truly dancing on his nerves.

At first, there was this tall, broad-shouldered boy who seemed younger than him, but multiple heads turned his way when he walked by, probably because of his handsome looks. Though Jay would never think of growing his hair long, he had to admit that he had a majestic feel to him because of his shoulder-length chestnut brown locks.

“Oh, noona!” The boy hollered when he caught sight of you, and Jay immediately stiffened beside you, but didn’t move when the other boy halted in front of you. As if he didn’t even see Jay, he boasted a wide grin as he handed you a gift box. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you so much, Leehan! I’m glad you could make it,” you reciprocated his wide smile, visibly comfortable even with the close proximity of the boy. Or maybe it seemed close only because Jay was also by your side.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Though we had a bit of an emergency because Jaehyun managed to spill coffee on my suit, but alas, I look dazzling in any suit,” he blabbered joyfully, and only after you asked a few more questions about his day and silence settled on you three, did the boy turn his head towards Jay.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me that you had a bodyguard,” he noted with curiously widening eyes, and Jay’s eyebrows immediately shot up.

“Pardon?”

“Who are you then if not her bodyguard? You look so serious,” he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders casually. Jay felt like he could combust from both the embarrassment and the fury he felt, but held himself back because he was better than that. Besides, he might have stood too stiff beside you, but every approaching boy was a target in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, Leehan, I didn’t tell you. He’s my boyfriend, Jay. Jay Park.”

Leehan let out a little giggle before mentioning that it was funny that he had the same name as the singer. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it didn’t seem to get old no matter how much he hated it. It was just a name after all. It was like joking to every Kitty about Hello Kitty.

“Leehan and I used to be neighbours when I was living in Busan,” you explained as you turned towards him, and despite the fact that he didn’t even know you used to live in Busan, he appreciated the fact that you shared it with him. The explanation soothed his nerves a bit, but he was relieved only when Leehan left to say hello to your parents.

It was crazy, he was crazy, Jay thought to himself. He wasn’t usually like this. In fact, he was never like this. You weren’t even his real girlfriend, yet he was acting like a real jealous boyfriend. Did he even have the right to act this way? After all, Leehan was right. He was standing there beside you like a stuck up person, waiting to judge the next person that came up to you.

You took note of his behaviour as well, and asked if he was alright.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Jay sulked like a little kid, hoping that the tone of voice was as close to neutral as possible, but judged by the way you let out a resigned sigh, he had a feeling that he wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m sorry that I dragged you into this. Maybe it was a bit too soon to have you here today,” you mused out loud, biting on your lower lip as you looked around, at the hustle-bustle of the guests. He knew exactly what you meant by ‘too soon’; a month into your fake dating deal, but it was what he had signed up for, so it wasn’t your fault, and he didn’t get why you felt this way.

“I’m fine, really. I just hardly know anyone, and it seems that people think I’m either your brother or your bodyguard, not your boyfriend.”

Your lips curled upwards when he mentioned this, referring both to Leehan’s bravado and Mark’s who was a childhood friend of yours, but went to the States to study, and totally forgot how your brother looked, and mistook Jay for your brother, Heeseung. In Mark’s defence, he supposedly had not only horrible eyesight but a poor face memory, too.

Coming to think of it, these were pretty amusing conversations, but Jay didn’t feel like laughing even though the bell-like sound of your laughter did awaken something inside of him. He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder what this unfamiliar feeling was though because the next guest came up to you, and you immediately welcomed him with a tight hug.

A hug.

From a boy he didn’t know.

What on Earth was going on? Why did you know so many people? Why did you know so many boys? He met like six of your acquaintances who were boys, and there was only one girl. Just why?

“... and this is Jay,” he faintly heard your voice, and when you called his name, he perked up, looking at you. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered that you and the jet-black haired boy had already started talking. He seemed kind with his big brown eyes and lips that curled naturally into a genuine smile, and even his tone was friendly when he spoke up.

“Your boyfriend, Jay, right?” He asked in a casual, conversational way as he reached his hand out for a handshake.

Now, this boy… he was a keeper. Jay liked him.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jay greeted him with a relieved sigh and shook his hand. He had a firm grip, but his kind smile wouldn’t have made him think so.

“My name is Sung Hanbin. We are archery partners with Y/N,” he explained after he let go of his hand, and now Jay didn’t know what to say. Seeing his confused face, you rushed to explain that you and Hanbin were training together as a mixed team for the Olympics.

“I thought that only same sex teams were competing.”

“There are actually 3 different archery categories. Individual, team and mixed team. We’re in the mixed team with Hanbin. It’s only us two, it’s not like fencing when there could be 4 people in a team,” you answered him in detail, and you were patient with him even though he had no idea about archery as a sport, let alone how the Olympics worked. On the other hand, he would definitely look things up after this because he didn’t want to embarrass himself like he did so.

Not like Hanbin seemed bothered by his lack of knowledge regarding the field. Instead, he asked about his side, and was super eager to learn about all the business things Jay studied at university. He was even more curious when he got to know that Jay did rugby, and asked him to show him some moves one day, he would be looking forward to it.

“You should also come to one of our practices. Y/N is seriously so amazing on the field,” Hanbin suggested, awe lacing his words. There was something in the way he said it, but he wouldn’t think that it was because Hanbin harboured feelings for you. It seemed more like respect than infatuation.

“Ah please, I’m just…”

“I’ll make sure to come by. If you don’t mind,” Jay made up his mind about it quickly, and searched for your eyes. This was the first time you wouldn’t bring the other as a plus one to an event, you would do it simply because you wanted to. It could be seen that you were taken aback by the suggestion, but you composed your features within mere seconds, and directed a smile at him.

“Sure. I’d love that.”

There was a moment when you just gazed at each other, and he forgot about everything else around you. He simply focused on the way the shiny peach-coloured lipstick sat on your lips as they curled into a smile, and the way the lights from the grand chandelier above reflected in your ocean deep eyes. The way the foundation couldn’t hide your beautiful moles, and the way you radiated confidence and chicness in your feminine pink and white body suit.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to have some time to yourself. I might check out the drinks instead,” Hanbin announced, pulling you two back to reality. A hue of pink crept onto your cheeks at the reminder that you were not alone, but your smile didn’t waver as you bid your archery partner goodbye.

“I’ve also brought you a gift, but I left at the table where I saw people leaving them,” Jay announced when he looked down at the gift boxes in your hand. You thanked him, and told him that you would definitely check it out and let him know what you thought about his gift.

Not like you had a lot of time to open gifts because your birthday party was more than packed with conversations with familiar and not so familiar figures, and by the end of the night, Jay had no idea how you still had the energy to greet everyone as energetically as in the beginning. Thankfully, there were no more people who assumed that he was your brother or bodyguard, but some found it surprising to see you as a couple. Like the ever so talkative Keeho who analysed the future of your relationship based on your music taste, MBTI and star sign (whatever he meant by that), or one of your mother’s friend’s daughters - Giselle - who was convinced that Jay was Hanbin because she thought that you were dating your archery partner because that would be so YA book-like.

Nevertheless, Jay truly hoped that after this night, everyone would know that you two were dating, so he wouldn’t have to go through this again. He wasn’t sure he could take that.

You didn’t know what got into Jay when he gave in to Hanbin’s suggestion because he was usually reserved when it came to such events. You would think that he didn’t want to bother with it since he hated blind dates just as much as you did, and you weren’t even dating for real, so it could have been just another nuisance in his eyes.

Nevertheless, he didn’t go back on his word, but asked when he could come by, and so you settled on a date. He made sure to ask if you were comfortable by the idea of him coming to your practice, but you reassured him that you were totally fine with it. Even though you didn’t interact that much in person, you rather texted the other, your impression of him was quite positive. He was a just person, someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, but he was also very attentive, noticing when the screw of your earring let go and fixing it for you at the business event you had attended, or how he had gone around to find a blanket for you when you had been sitting outside in the garden at your birthday party. Even his gift was thoughtful: he bought an Avalon archery bag for you which was a good quality bag for professional athletes. You were in need of a new one anyway, so you brought it with you to practise ever since, something that Hanbin couldn’t not notice.

Ever since the two boys had met at your birthday party, Hanbin had been asking about how you had met and whether it was difficult to keep up a relationship with your training schedule and Jay’s university classes. To be honest, you didn’t decide on such details with Jay, so you spoke the truth, and told him that you had met on a blind date, and you had made it work through texts and calls because you wanted to. Which was actually true because you and Jay were getting to know each other, and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t just for the sake of the fake dating deal, but because you really did want to know more about the other. At least, you wanted to know more about him.

The indoor archery range had a security system in place, so only the athletes and the staff could enter who had a card to use the building, so you went out to let Jay inside when he texted you that he arrived. You inquired if he found it easy to get here, and he said that it was fine, and he found a decent parking place not far, so it was alright. Because of course, he knew how to drive and he had his own car. Jay was every girl’s dream after all, no wonder that title followed him around like second skin.

“So it’s just you practising today, or will there be others?”

“We’ve booked a range for us, so it’ll be me, Hanbin and our two coaches. I let the coaches know that we would have a visitor, but it’s alright. A lot of archers visit each other’s practice to learn about techniques, so you won’t stand out too much. Or maybe just a bit,” you pointed at his sleek black cotton pants, dress shoes and white shirt that he tucked into his pants, highlighting his slender waist.

Jay seemed a tad bit coy at your playful call-out, his lips slightly puckering as he looked down at his - probably usual - attire, but he went back to his usual self immediately.

“I hope I won’t be too distracting,” he mentioned with an unbothered look, but you couldn’t help but nudge him in the side.

“What was that? Were you flirting with me?”

“I-” He was about to protest, probably not thinking too much into his words, but then, it dawned on him why you teased him. “I’m your boyfriend after all, aren’t I?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you could see a hint of amusement prompting his lips to curl upwards.

No matter how many times you said the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ out loud, it still seemed unfamiliar. Yet, there was a certain thrill to it too, something that you had never experienced before. Not since you had broken up with your boyfriend of three months in high school, at least.

After pulling yourself together, you guided Jay to the right room, and told him that he could sit in the spectators’ stand, you also put your bag there. So he took a seat in the front row beside your bag after greeting the ones who were present. Hanbin gave you a knowing look before he turned towards his coach who gave him some instructions. After warming up, you attached the quiver to your waist, and you held up the bow, testing the limbs and the hand. That’s when you realised that you had left a part of it in your bag, so you jogged up to the slightly confused Jay.

“Could you pass me the kisser from my bag?”

“The what?” The boy’s eyebrows shot up so high, you were afraid that his eyes would pop. That’s when you realised that you had used the jargon that he wasn’t familiar with.

“It’s this little black button in the right pocket of my bag,” you explained to him while you leaned onto the rail separating you two. Jay’s shoulders sagged in relief, and you found it difficult to hold back your laughter seeing his bewildered expression. Well yeah, the button was called kisser because it was attached to the bowstring, and your lips usually touched this part when aiming, to give consistent vertical reference. But he must have thought of something else.

Either way, Jay found the button, and handed it to you which you accepted with a grateful smile. Your fingers lightly grazed his hand in the meantime, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. No matter how many accidental touches you shared, it was still unfamiliar to you, the effect he had on you.

“Are you sure you will be able to concentrate with him here?” Hanbin teased once you jogged back to him, and you gave him a long stare.

“It’s not like it wasn’t your idea to invite him here.”

“Well, let’s just say I knew what I was doing,” he shrugged, a teasing little grin stretching on his lips. You nudged his shoulder in return and told him to focus on hitting the gold target face.

Despite Hanbin’s warning, the practice went well. What’s more, it went exceptionally well. You both scored high, and even if you didn’t perform that well in a set, you made up for it in the next one. One thing about mixed archery that you liked was that you could cheer on your partner without fearing for your own ranking, and it was easy to shoot beside Hanbin because he was very supportive, and even if he took archery seriously, he knew when to be silly to ease the tension. He was determined and hard-working just like you, and your coaches often said that you seemed like you were made to be each other’s partners.

Once your coaches left and it was nearing the end of your time slot, Hanbin inquired from Jay if he wanted to try it out himself. He objected vehemently, saying that after your practice, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. You didn’t force him either, but thanked him for coming by.

“I will give you a lift,” he offered gently when you walked up to him to get your bag.

“You really don’t have to. It might take about half an hour before I will get ready.”

“It’s alright. I don’t have other plans,” he protested firmly, and you didn’t have the heart to go against him when he offered it himself. He really wouldn’t say it out loud, but you had a feeling that he was offering to give you a ride because it was getting dark outside, and he didn’t want you to go home alone.

“Thanks. I will be quick,” you promised beamingly, and off you went.

After taking a quick shower, getting changed and putting your hair up into a high ponytail, you were fresh and clean, ready to head out. Jay was standing on the other side of the security gate, leaning against the wall while scrolling through his phone. You had a feeling someone let him out - maybe the security guard or Hanbin because he always finished earlier than you -, but still, it was nice to see him standing there even though he really did stand out in his business outfit while you had sweatpants and a knitted sweater on.

Jay’s nonchalant expression turned lighter when he caught sight of you, and he immediately reached for your bag, holding it for you without saying a word. Your face flushed when your hands touched again, but you looked the other way to hide your embarrassment.

You let silence fall over the two of you as you were walking towards his car, and when you stepped inside the vehicle, you felt like you were the one who stood out in your casual, sporty outfit. Alas, you preferred comfort over style when you were off to practise or coming from practise, and you were thankful that you didn’t need to wear high heels or dresses during these times. Plus, it’s not like Jay made a comment on it, instead, he inquired if the temperature was alright in the car, and if you preferred to have the radio on or not.

“So how did you like the practice? I hope it wasn’t too boring,” you inquired when the boy started the engine and drove out from the parking lot.

“It wasn’t boring at all. I didn’t know the distance for archery is 70 metres, so I was impressed that you could control the arrow from such a distance.”

“How did you know it was 70 metres?”

Jay’s Adam’s apple bobbed hearing your question as if he didn’t want to acknowledge that he clearly made his research. You definitely didn’t tell him about that.

“Well, I read it somewhere before,” he mumbled under his nose, but you couldn’t help this warm, embracing feeling bubbling up inside of you. He might have looked cold and composed, but you seemed to shake up his demeanour lately.

You talked a bit more about archery during the car ride because he was curious about the type of arrows you used, how you controlled the draw length and the aim, and whether you enjoyed individual, team or mixed archery the most. You found it heart-warming that he asked you about this because archery meant so much to you, but when you went to high society events with your parents, oftentimes the people there only asked about whether you had a boyfriend and when you would join your father’s company. Your parents never forced you to choose a different path, but these kinds of interactions came with the type of life they had chosen for themselves when you moved from Busan to Seoul, and your father set up his company that has since become one of the most important AI consulting companies in not just Seoul but the whole country.

Time passed by in a blink of an eye while you were talking, and you found yourself at home in no time. Yet, as his car drove out of your driveway, you realised that you wouldn’t mind if he gave you a ride back home more often.

Bit by bit, you and Jay got closer, and there was no denying it anymore. He went to your practices a few more times, you showed up at business events beside him other times, and in the meantime, you continued texting and calling each other. Jay also made it a habit to pick you up after practice when he didn’t have anything else to do, and sometimes Hanbin joined you, too. Jay liked him because he could see that he was a genuine, kind guy who would want nothing bad for you, and your archery partner also gave him his phone number, so Jay could reach out to him in case you didn’t pick up your phone or anything like that. Which was really attentive of him, and despite not saying it out loud, Jay grew fond of the other boy, too.

Alas, his fondness towards you could not be contained that easily, and it didn’t take long for his friends to pick up on his antics. Jake and Sunghoon teased him ever since Jay admitted that he “wasn’t feeling neutral towards you” which, in his dictionary, meant that he liked you, and they kept bombarding him with dating advice. He would never force you to date him though, and you had enough on your plate with the Olympics coming up, so he didn’t want to complicate things even further.

However, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t be supportive of you and your dreams.

“So… are you going to the Olympics with Y/N?” Jake inquired once when they were having lunch together between classes. Jay almost choked on his food, he was so surprised.

“Why would I go with her to the Olympics? She didn’t tell me that she wants me there,” he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his puppy-like friend. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance, and there was a knowing smile in the corner of Sunghoon’s lips when he spoke up.

“Jay, my dear friend, you really don’t know a thing about relationships, do you?”

“It’s not like you have that much experience,” Jay snorted, pointing out the fact that he and Chaerin had only been dating for half a year. To be precise, dating officially because they also had their fake dating period when Sunghoon had tried to keep Chaerin’s douchebag ex away by pretending to be her boyfriend. But he had already had a crush on the cheerleader, so his feelings had been genuine when they had started fake dating.

“Well, it’s still more than your experience which is close to zero,” he shrugged and reached for his bottle of water. Jake found the conversation amusing as he kept smiling while shoving kimchi fried rice into his mouth.

“Well then, enlighten me. Why should I go?” Jay gave up on trying to argue with them because as much as he wanted to deny it, the thought had crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad if he went to the Olympics to watch your competitions. Then again, you had never asked if he wanted to come or if he was willing to come, so he didn’t bother asking either.

“To support her. I’m pretty sure she’s all nerves, especially because she had a bronze medal in the last Olympics, so she must be feeling a lot of pressure. Not to mention that she and Hanbin are said to be the most promising duo for the team archery.”

“It’s mixed archery,” Jay corrected Jake’s choice of words, and his two friends immediately shared a glance. Oh well, he had really become a bit of an expert in archery, but could they blame him? He was trying not to be too nosy during practices, so he did his own research and watched your previous matches to gain more knowledge regarding your field.

Jay didn’t need to ask how they knew about your rankings because they pulled up your Wikipedia page the moment he told them that you were his fake girlfriend, and besides, he might have been dropping hints here and there. However, he had to give it to them that they were right, and despite the fact that you wouldn’t want to show it, he could see the dark circles under your eyes, and you had even managed to fall asleep once while he had been driving you home after practice. You seemed to lose a bit of your smile too, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it, except trying to be extra comforting and supportive.

He didn’t even need to be told twice. After asking Hanbin about your Olympics schedule, he booked himself a hotel and a plane ticket, and arrived the day before your first official match. He didn’t want you to worry about his safety while you were supposed to focus on your performance, so he only told you that he arrived when he got the green light from Hanbin that you finished with your last practice before your first day of competing.

Locks still stuck to your forehead when you rushed out of the stadium after a shower and changing clothes, and you hugged him so tightly upon seeing him that he immediately knew that coming here was the best decision that he had ever made.

“Thank you so much for coming! I can’t believe that you’re here,” you exclaimed giddily, and despite the fact that it was your first hug, somehow it felt so good, so right. You didn’t even seem embarrassed as you kept babbling afterwards about literally everything: the food in the Olympic village, how your room looked and how practise went that day.

He listened to you attentively, his heart a lot lighter that he could see you smile, and because you must have been hungry and tired, he treated you to a meal. You didn’t even want to talk him out of it, and enjoyed dinner with him to the last moment. He didn’t even want to let you go so soon, so he offered to walk you back to your accommodation.

“This morning, I was so nervous that I thought I’m coming down with something. I was also not performing as well during practice as I wanted to, but I feel like I’m a lot lighter now that you’re here. The fact that you carved time out of your day to come here willingly means so much to me,” you admitted coyly as he was walking beside you. He couldn’t go with you all the way because outsiders weren’t allowed in the Olympic village, but you still had some time as it was on the other side of the park you were currently strolling in.

“Even just the fact that you are here means that you’re doing great. I know you might feel the pressure to do better than four years ago, but know that you’re already a winner. You’re already one of the most excellent archers in the whole world,” he mused out loud, and if it wouldn’t have been for the bright lights in your deep dark eyes, he might have wanted to dig a hole for himself because that was quite cheesy. It came from his heart though, and you seemed to appreciate it so much that you were visibly touched.

“Don’t cry…” he shushed you when he noticed you tearing up, and reached out to wipe the first teardrop away that was racing down your cheeks. You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, and he felt like time stopped around you as you two were standing still in the middle of the walking path, surrounded by the shushing of the trees and the watching eyes of the street lamps. To him, you looked vulnerable yet strong, someone who wasn’t afraid to face her feelings and though the sight of you with tears in your eyes churned his heart, he was also thankful that he could be there for you.

“I’m just… I’m just so happy that you’re here,” you choked up, hidden away emotions surfacing as you let it out. Jay let you cry as much as you wanted, handing you tissues and letting you hug him as long as you wanted. Before, he might have thought that you would be better off without him because you had a lot on your plate already, but now more than ever, he was sure that you needed him just as much as he needed you.

But he didn’t ask the question until you were finished with all of your competitions, until you were finished with all the celebrations for your gold medal in individual female archery and mixed archery alike and 4th in team archery, and until you were leaving behind the country.

Only as the stewardesses signalled that the plane was ready to depart in Seoul, did he dare to ask the question:

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”

The smile that you gave him was enough of an answer by itself, but when you confirmed that yes, you would be more than thrilled to go, he was the happiest person on Earth. Even if you managed to confuse Hanbin who was sitting on the other side of the aisle (after giving up his seat for Jay) by what you meant by a real date.

But he didn’t have to know that.

➳ Check out: my ENHYPEN masterlist

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ENHYPEN or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay x reader #enhypen jay x reader #jay x you #enhypen jay x you #jay scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios #jay imagines #enhypen jay imagines #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x you #park jongseong scenarios #park jongseong imagines

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random-databank · 2 months ago

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Childhood Friends (Seth Lowell x Reader)

Hello, thank you for the request! Seth is one of my favorites but I also don't know much about his character, so I enjoyed writing this and learning more about him. Sorry it took so long!

Contains: gender neutral reader, could be platonic or romantic

The coffee shop in Lumina Square was a regular stop for you- it was spacious, the coffee was good, and you could stay there to get some work done if necessary.

You sipped your coffee and scrolled through your phone, opening the Knock Knock app. Most posts were of your friends and family, plus the occasional advertisement and Public Security post. In any other society, following the social media account of the local police would seem strange, but with the danger of the Hollows and new (usually illegal) factions popping up almost every other week, keeping up to date with the law enforcement was almost a necessity.

You paused at a group picture of several Pubsec officers, seeing a face you could’ve sworn was familiar to you. A cat Thiren in a Pubsec uniform… you couldn’t place it, but you’d definitely seen him somewhere. Maybe while he was on duty?

You clicked on the post to read the caption and were greeted with: Our newest members of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team! The post was pretty old, and it listed several names you didn’t recognize, finishing with Seth Lowell.

Seth… Lowell?

Your eyes widened as you realized where you’d heard the name. Your families had been friends, and you and Seth were close until the fall of the old capital and the necessary relocation of both your families- what was left of them, at least. After that, you’d lost contact, and seen no indication that Seth and his family had ended up in New Eridu or even alive.

You opened your photo gallery, scrolling as far back as you could, and found some pictures of the two of you. Luckily, you’d kept them backed up on the cloud before the disaster.

Little Seth and you, each grinning proudly and holding large sticks.

An “action shot” of the both of you fighting. In your imaginations, those sticks had probably been powerful swords.

A blurred shot of you dropping the stick and Seth running to you, with a slight streak of red visible on your face. Most likely taken by accident.

Another shot of the two of you, this time with your arms around each other and a Starlight Knights bandage on your cheek.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the sheet of clouds, burning them away in what usually signaled the start of mid-morning. You looked up from your phone and your stroll down memory lane. It was time to leave.

You were still a bit distracted as you started to clean up your table, mentally adding “find Seth again” to your to-do list as you went to leave and there was absolutely no way.

White hair, fluffy ears and tail, and a Pubsec uniform. What were the odds?

Oh, well. You could put off leaving for a little longer.

“Excuse me, officer. Seth Lowell, right?” you asked, approaching him and hoping he wasn’t working.

The Thiren turned around, noticing but not recognizing you if his face was any indication. “Hi, that’s me. I’m not on duty at the moment, so if you have a concern that can wait, I’d recommend visiting the station.”

“No, actually, I was hoping you were off duty. We were friends in the past, and I didn’t know where you went after the fall of the old capital, so I wanted to, um…“ You showed him your phone, photo app still open to the pictures from your childhood. “Do you remember me?”

Clearly he did, if the way his eyebrows shot up and his face broke into a smile were any indication. You were suddenly pulled into a tight hug, but before you could reciprocate, he released you just as fast. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, his tail swishing awkwardly from side to side. “I was looking for you too, but I couldn’t find anything…”

“It’s ok, I’m glad to see you too. Um… do you have to be anywhere soon?” you asked. “If not, maybe we can catch up a bit.” You gestured towards the stairs, which led to an upper level of outdoor seating.

Seth accepted eagerly- he would have offered if you hadn’t beat him to it, and he didn’t have to report to the station for a little while. You grabbed his arm and lightly tugged him along.

“Oh, by the way!” Seth seemed almost brimming with excitement. “Do you remember when we used to play pretend? I always wanted to be the hero, and there was that one time you pretended to be a villain with my brother, but…”

The two of you continued talking into the morning, reminiscing and sharing stories of how you’d changed since your separation. Seth’s dedication was amazing, and seeing him as a Pubsec officer just as he said he’d be all those years ago made you incredibly proud. It felt like time had barely passed before Seth had to leave for work. He didn’t seem that worried, but you encouraged him along, not wanting him to be late on your account. Before you parted ways, you made sure to exchange contact information.

After all, it wouldn’t do to lose him again.

#zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzzero x reader #zzzero #zzz seth x reader #seth lowell #seth lowell x reader

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cluelessrebel1988 · 1 year ago

Text

If I Ran The Zoo (or how I would plot out an Animorphs TV/streaming series if I had the time/ability/resources)

So this is something I've been kicking around in my head on-again, off-again for a couple years now, and I thought I'd put it out there, just for the lols (do people still say that?)

My thought process is for a 5 season arc, with each season being somewhere in the neighborhood of 13-15 episodes long, give or take. There would be a few changes with the order of things, and a few minor characters would play a bigger role. I'm not going to go episode by episode, but just sort of outline the big arcs for each season. I'm not in any way suggesting that this is the best way to do it, just that this is how I would do it.

Season 1

This season obviously would start the events of The Invasion and would primarily incorporate events/plot points from the first 10 books, including finding Ax in his crashed ship (though I would move that to either take place in the first episode, or in the second half of the two-part premiere), Tobais getting stuck in his hawk form (and getting an episode or two dedicated to him coming to terms with that), and introducing Erik and the Chee (Erik would be introduced as a friend of Marco's early in the season, with his identity as a Chee being revealed in the second half of the season).

The only major plot point from that run of the series I wouldn't put into play just yet is the reveal of Marco's mother as Visser One (although I would be very much establishing her through flashbacks, dreams, etc., so people will recognize her when Visser One does show up).

The main arc of the season would involve the Kandrona Ray and the events of The Stranger, with the team meeting the Ellimist and learning about the ray and its significance and plotting to take it down to try to end/expose the invasion. Erik and Ax tagteam providing info about the ray and its use, but it's the vision from the Ellimist that gives Rachel the final clue, again, as in the book, with that occuring at the end of the penultimate episode. The season finale is solely focused on devising and executing the plan to destroy the ray. The plan would succeed, which would prompt Visser One's return, revealing her host to be Marco's mother as the cliffhanger for the season.

Obviously, we would be exploring the kid's home lives more, with the relationship with their families and friends and the whole 'work-life balance' thing that comes with fighting a guerilla war against an alien invasion. Not to the point where they're having to fake illnesses to skip school every episode, but enough to show that it's putting a strain on their relationships. I would also explore Rachel's relationship with Melissa Chapman more and have Melissa be a bigger supporting character in the show. We'd also introduce Karen and Aftran in this season, revealing her to be a controller early on, but something that Cassie doesn't find out until the end of the season

Season 2

Season 2 would pick up a few weeks after season 1, as The Alien did with The Stranger. The kids learn that their hope that the invasion would reveal itself with the Kandrona ray destroyed were in vain and that Ax knew that. The premiere would largely follow the plot of that book, with the Animorphs attempting to integrate Ax into society and attempting to take the fight to Visser Three with the help of a Yeerk traitor, and Ax telling the others about the Law of Seerow's Kindness. Ax would get a lot of development this season, with the events of The Deception coming into play.

Tobias would help free the Hork-Bajir as in The Change and get his human form back as a morph, and the reveal that he is Elfangor's son would be included in this season as well (Obviously we're tapping into the Andalite Chronicles for flashbacks in at least one episode this season to help set that up).

Marco's main character arc would revolve around learning that his mother is Visser One, keeping it a secret, only to have the others find out later, thus incorporating The Predator and The Escape. Also Visser One is the big bad for the season, delving more into her conflict with Visser Three. The season would end with her supposed death following the Animorphs' thwarting of her plans

For Cassie, we cover the utilize adapted versions of The Departure and set up for The Sickness, with Karen/Aftran and Cassie perhaps getting trapped somewhere and forced to work together to get out of it, laying the groundwork for Aftran to be captured by Visser Three. The season finale would also center around the efforts to rescue Aftran.

Jake and Rachel will have arcs and roles to play in each of these stories as they each start to fall into their respective roles as leader and fighter, respectively. If they get their own arc, it would be around trying to save Tom specifically.

Additionally, Melissa is still around in her expanded role, but with a new friend: David, who would be introduced fairly early in the season in a recurring role (Melissa is also recurring at this point). She and David will have a B-plot where they become friends and are together when David finds the morphing cube, the discovery of which also occurs in the finale.

Season 3

Obviously, the primary source for the main arc of season 3 is the David Trilogy, with The Discovery in particular serving as the source for the season premiere. It plays out mostly the same, with the Animorphs learning that David and Melissa have the cube and plans to sell it online. They try to retrieve the cube before the two of them can attract the attention of the Yeerks, but ultimately fail, leading to the battle at David's house. They manage to get Melissa and David out of the house before they can be captured, and are forced to reveal themselves and tell them what's happening, essentially recruiting them into the Animorphs.

The events of the rest of the trilogy, with the threat to the UN summit or some similar event involving world leaders as a target that they have to keep the Yeerks from taking advantage of -- as well as with David and Melissa's reactions to being Animorphs -- would take up the majority of the plot this season. Obviously Melissa becoming an Animorph opens up some new potential for her arc, especially around her relationship with her dad and trying to come to terms with him being a controller (and the fact that Rachel has been keeping this a secret all along). She and David would have similar arcs around their parents being controllers, but while David ultimately turns against the Animorphs, Melissa does not (although David tries to convince her to). The season ends with the gang trapping David in a rat morph, as the books do.

One of Melissa's major character traits is her interest in technology, something she used to bond with her father over (working together to take things apart and then put them back together before be became a Controller to try to keep her safe) and I imagine her and Ax developing something of an awkward friendship as she tries to ask him about the morphing technology and other Andalite technology, with him being reluctant to share due to the Law of Seerow's Kindness. But, as he's grown closer with the Animorphs, he would eventually acquiesce and they would begin to bond. The two big relationships (Rachel and Tobias, and Cassie and Jake) also take major steps this season

The other major arc for the season involves other Andalites, incorporating The Arrival and The Other, with the reveal that other Andalites are on earth and some are there to help...or are they? The season would also end with Tobias getting captured by the Yeerks to begin the laying of the groundwork for the discovery that the Animorphs are not, in fact, Andalite bandits.

Season 4

The events of The Illusion and The Test would be adapted for the season premiere, including the introduction of the Yeerk resistance (led in this series by Karen/Aftran) and Tobias's capture and torture, with the main difference being that it is Tom (who has largely been a secondary or tertiary villain thus far) being the one who conducts the torture. During the interrogation, Tobias lets something slip that most of the controllers in the room don't pick up on, but Tom does, leading him to investigate and setting up for the finale, which would be largely and adaptation of The Diversion, with the race against time to save their families taking up the majority of the episode. Melissa is able to save her parents, her father proving to be an asset in the final season with his knowledge of how Yeerk technology works.

This season as a whole would focus on escalating the war between the Animorphs and the Yeerks. The stakes become higher, as are tensions following David's betrayal. Visser One returns, learning that Marco is one of the Animorphs and we incorporate the events of Visser, seeing the Animorphs rescue her.

Following Tobias's capture and torture, Rachel becomes more angry and vengeful, setting up for her arc over the final season (we've seen hints of her violent streak over the series up to this point, but it gets more intense this season).

Season 5

With their secret out, the Animorphs regroup in the Hork-Bajir valley and try to figure out their next move. The final arc of the series would play out largely how it does over the course of the final books, with the team recruiting more Animorphs to help them with their mission, and even trying to recruit government and military officials to aid in the fight. Tom gets the morphing cube, adding controllers with the ability to morph (other than the newly appointed Visser One) to the threat against the Animorphs. The final battle would be a multi-pronged attack, with the bombing of the Yeerk Pool being part of the final assault and not a separate battle.

Rachel gets aboard the blade ship and kills Tom before being killed herself. In an effort to make up for the harm he caused, Hedrick Chapman sacrifices himself to both ensure the Yeerk Pool bomb goes off and to save Melissa one final time (the pair of them were in charge of building/detonating it, along with Ax), and Jake orders the flushing of the Yeerk Pool on the the Pool ship, alienating Erek and the rest of the Chee going forward. All of this is in the penultimate episode.

The series finale follows the aftermath of the war in The Beginning, and, as the books did, the series would end with Jake, Tobias, and Marco (and probably Melissa) being recruited to help save Ax from an as-yet unknown threat.

And there you have it, my outline for how an Animorphs series could/should play out. As I said at the start, this is just my idea and others might have different thoughts about what order the arcs should go in and what significant changes (if any) would be made. Please be kind with any criticisms, and if you'd like to share your thoughts with me, my inbox is open. I also did a fancast for the series a few years ago if anyone's curious about who would play who

#animorphs #series outline #just my ramblings #Jake Berenson #Rachel Berenson #Marco #Tobias #aximili esgarrouth isthill #Ax #Cassie #Melissa Chapman #David

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bumblesimagines · 4 months ago

Note

Grizz (The Society)

by the time i woke up, you were gone.

it was a mistake to hook up like that.

you've always been on my mind.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Mentions of drinking, best friend trope, grizz is the best i love him

I haven't finished watching the show but i will try to

(Y/N) listened to the neverending ringing coming from his phone, his head tilted back along the backrest of the couch as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The anxiety curled around his body had become a familiar feeling, suffocating and constantly reminding him of how fucked things were in West Ham. Everyone who hadn't gone on the godforsaken buses were gone, leaving the town completely and utterly deserted. All roads and tracks leading out of town were unnaturally overgrown by the forest around and the service only allowed for them to contact each other.

"Fuck," He whispered and pulled the phone from his ear, his teeth grinding together when his mother's contact picture flashed on the screen while her voicemail began, echoing words he'd memorized. He'd never given much thought to how terrifying and panic-inducing it'd be to suddenly lose contact with his whole family.

After reluctantly hanging up, he peeled himself off the couch and approached the front door. There was little to do apart from attempting to distract himself through drinking and partying but everything still loomed over him: the absence of adults, the almost neverending forest that seemingly attacked when they walked too far, the slow death of Emily he witnessed, the unknown. He fought hard to push it back, to push the thoughts away and focus on the present.

(Y/N) took the keys from the table by the door and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him and heading down the driveway to the car parked along the sidewalk. He remembered vividly when they first arrived at West Ham years prior. The neighbors had been welcoming, as had his new classmates, allowing him and his family to settle in with ease. It all felt so long ago.

"(Y/N)!" His best friend's voice rang out through the street and he froze, his eyes briefly squeezing shut before he turned in the direction of Grizz. The boy quickened his pace into a jog, his brows fixed into a worried furrow. "Hey, I.. I was, uhm... I was going to make breakfast but by the time I woke up, you were gone. I- I got worried, you know? Are you okay?"

"I don't think any single one of us is fine, Grizz." (Y/N) murmured, his eyes drifting over to Emily's memorial down the street where two of her friends stood by staring down at it as if waiting for her to return to them. "I was, uh.. I was going to check the grocery store. I wanted to see if any of my stress-eating snacks are still there or if everyone's ransacked what's left."

"I've got some," Grizz said. "I always have your favorite at my place."

(Y/N)'s teeth caught his lips, digging in and lightly peeling skin as his heart squeezed. Drinking and drinking and drinking the night before had been... "I.. Grizz, it was a mistake to hook up like that." He spoke softly, watching the way Grizz's face fell. It'd been on him, really. It was stupid of him to convince Grizz to drink their sorrows and worries away, stupid of him to kiss the only guy he fully trusted with his life. "I.. I was scared. I don't like being scared, you know that. I.. I don't know what I was thinking but we- I shouldn't have kissed you and we shouldn't have..."

"I didn't see it as a mistake," Grizz admitted quietly, his hand reaching out to wrap around (Y/N)'s wrist. His brown eyes watered slightly and he laughed quietly, nervously as he blinked the tears away. "I- God, I, uhm... you've always been on my mind... ever since you walked into 8th grade English. I know I.. I ignored you most of that year, even when the guys introduced us, but I'm glad you had more balls than me to ask what was up when you joined the football team. I've always liked you, (Y/N). Always. I-I thought maybe when we graduated I'd finally confess but seeing our situation right now and what happened last night.. I don't want you to think I kissed you back 'cause I was drunk. We were wasted but I kissed you 'cause it's all I've been wanting to do for years."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #the society #the society netflix #the society x reader #the society x male reader #the society x you #the society x y/n #grizz visser #grizz visser x reader #gareth 'grizz' visser #gareth visser #grizz visser x male reader #grizz visser x y/n #grizz visser x you #gareth visser x reader

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donnatroyyyy · 10 months ago

Text

A (very long) list of my (semi) unpopular DC opinions

The Batfam shouldn’t work together as a whole big group as vigilantes. Whenever that does happen it ends up being character suicide for AT LEAST two of them and also usually ends up minimizing all of them to one of the skills/traits they’re good at (or the archetypes the writer wants them to be). The only exception to this is if it’s a long arc covering an actual catastrophe where each issue covers a duo or trio within the big group. Otherwise they should stick to no more than 4 ppl at a time in a team up. Also, this obviously doesn’t apply to them as civilians, they’re literally family obviously they’re gonna hang out as a group.

The Teen Titans (2003) is the best writing but (one of the) worst teams. On the other hand the original Teen Titans run and NTT run are the best teams (imo) but have either really bad or really mediocre writing. We as a society need an OG TT or NTT run written well.

Roy struggling with a heroin addiction has so many more layers and nuances to it than struggling with alcohol because as a non-meta hero most of his fights were against something drug-related. As opposed to alcohol which is now seen as a normal thing for soldiers/heroes/warriors to fall on as a crutch, this medium uses alcohol addiction with every other character. Roy’s addiction to heroin would literally be an opposition to all that he’s ever stood and fought for, all that his family and friends ever fought and stood for, and way more interesting because of that.

Garth (like Donna) is one of the most powerful and interesting characters but is never given enough panel time. However, unlike Donna, writers would rather write him out of the teen titans before they actually write a good interpretation of him. And I don’t know why but his role in the Aquafam too has been dwindling with time.

Garth’s openness about his inferiority complex and his inferiority complex in general need more panel time, it’s one of the most interesting thing to come out of the OG TT run

This is a complicated take because it’s literally two opposites in one take, but the main difference in characters as seen in old comics vs. now is two things. One, the writing of characters was much better, much more realistic, and much more nuanced in old comics. Two, when there is a well-written character in modern comics its usually a more show not tell character so everything is shown to us through actions and stuff rather than straight up words or them psychoanalyzing themselves in their speech bubbles and that just doesn’t work with modern audiences because media literacy is a dying art. Also, there’s the variable of the influence of fanon over how characters are written in comics but that’s a whole other post.

Roy and Donna are literally THE OTP like I don’t even want to hear it, they’re literally DC’s percabeth.

Every single Teen Titan had an inferiority complex, some were just easier to see.

Selina and Bruce and Talia and Bruce are two very different relationships that can’t be compared. Also they will always live side by side till the end of comics, this love triangle was one meant to last, and it will.

Jason Todd as we know him right now should get the YJ Roy Harper treatment, we need to find out that he’s a clone and the real JT is somewhere in Africa working for UNICEF or something, that’s the only way to fix his character.

Also, ignoring the top one, if DC doesn’t want to commit to that because they’re cowards, they should at least not make him a part of the Batfam yet, it’s too soon for either side.

Kara Zor El is the perfect character to be a white lantern, her arc literally matches up perfectly with each of the rings, and she’d wield it incredibly

Kyle Rayner is top 3 GLs

In my opinion, Diana is best written when the most important thing to her in the world is the world itself. Like, usually I hate the whole “hero would sacrifice u, villain would sacrifice the world” thing cuz it mostly doesn’t really apply, but to her it absolutely does. Diana would sacrifice the closest person to her for the world in an instant if it was for the sake of the world. And this isn’t like an angst thing because they all know it and are all ok with it.

Also, Diana is one of the most if not the most powerful characters in all of DC, if DC did a Deadpool kills the marvel universe kind of thing they should totally use her because she is sooo powerful. (Afterthought: that’s why I hate most of her appearances in anything JL because they underpower her soooo bad)

I say this as a batfamily Stan, the batfamily is the worst family in all of DC and sadly the one that gets the most attention.

The OG TT are the epitome of superheroes in the sense that each and every one of them defines every part of a superhero spectacularly and always has.

Kory needs an arc where she leaves everyone and everything for a while because as of right now, not only do the writers only ever see her in relation to others, but she sees herself that way. She needs an arc where she finds herself in relation to herself, who SHE is. Away from the love triangle, and the titans, and the Titans, etc.

Babs is a better character outside of the love triangle than she is when she’s in it. (Also a better character as Oracle but that only really unpopular amongst writers)

Every single woman character in DC is written in relation to the men in the comics, even WW. The only exception is Oracle, not Babs, but Oracle, which is actually so twisted considering that the creation of Oracle as a character came hand in hand with an event that literally inspired the cloning of the phrase “fridging”

BOP is one of the best teams

Harley Quinn shouldn’t be a hero yet, she was abused for over a decade, we need to see more of her struggle to undo all of the manipulation and heal from the abuse as well as try to undo all the damage she’s done. The Animated Series is the best version of her arc but it’s still not good either.

We as a fandom(s) need to normalize the ability to consume and enjoy things we don’t necessarily agree with. For example, as I’ve stated before multiple times, I absolutely hate any kind of abusive Bruce, however, I still read those long posts about it and I still read fics where dck punches him cuz he’s an abusive asshole, it’s okay to consume media that you don’t necessarily agree with. And same with fanon versions of characters, I HATE coffee-addict Tim, I’ve still enjoyed hundreds of fics with him in them though.

Damian Wayne is the most compassionate member of the batfam and one of the Keats likely ones to willingly kill

Blue devil and kid devil have arguably the most interesting story and tragedy in all of DC and the only reason they’re not given a lot of attention is because their tragedies have to do with something we don’t like to see: the wrongdoings and flaws of heroes, especially ones we like.

Speed Saunders should’ve continued as a character

Hal Jordan should’ve stayed evil for a while, the end of the parallax arc sucks and is a stupid cop out because they weren’t ready for a fully new GL. I don’t think he should’ve stayed the villain forever, but maybe for a few years, especially if that meant they would’ve ended the arc better.

Mera is more powerful than Arthur, always has been and always will be.

Wally West does see Barry Allen as a father figure and vice versa, it’s okay to see someone as a parental figure when you still have parents, especially when your parents are (canonically) borderline emotionally abusive and/or neglectful.

Any iteration of ANY hero being abusive is the worst writing ever because what the actual fuck, I’m sorry, but what happened to the whole they’re literally fucking heroes part??

There are so many characters that deserve solo series (or even mini series) but don’t get them because all the series are already being taken up by bigger characters (looking at you batfam)

So many characters get mischaracterized for the sake of other character’s stories (again, looking at you batfam)

Anyone who thinks Superman is boring either doesn’t understand him as a character or hasn’t read enough stuff with him in it (I recommend All-Star Superman and/or American Alien)

Anyone who relates to the Joker needs to turn themselves in at the nearest police station. (Unless it’s LEGO Joker, we like him)

The LEGO Batman movie is unironically some of the best DC media to ever exist

Atlantis and Paradise Island should be allies (especially once Diana, Arthur, and Mera come into the picture), I don’t know why they’re not

Lex Luthor is one of the most despicable villains because he’s a realistic villain, which is much scarier

Kon should be the next Superman

Connor Hawke should’ve stayed Tim’s age and Tim’s friend, it makes the most sense timeline-wise plus I think their dynamic was super cute.

Comic writers not making Roy openly refer to Ollie as his dad even though they’ve been father and son since they’ve debuted basically is actually so crazy to me

These next few are about Talia Al-Ghul because I love that woman:

Talia Al-Ghul Pre-Morrison was one of the best and most interesting characters in all of DC and that isn’t just my opinion, she was really popular amongst fans and writers for that exact reason

However, Morrison’s damage to her is near irreparable

BUT, if DC did want to repair it, I genuinely believe she’d be the best character they’d have character-wise and it would probably pull in a bunch of new fans

But even if they don’t, Talia Al-Ghul is one of the most important characters in all of DC and comics in general because she’s literally the documented history of WOC in media (especially Arab and Asian women) as well as their relation to white men in media. Her character and how it changes is directly tied to mainstream views on WOC at the time.

Talia Al-Ghul is literally of “I Bet On Losing Dogs” by Mitski, personified

Dinah Lance is the perfect example of a complex character done right and interpreted wrong/not interpreted enough.

If anyone should be the therapist within the hero community it should be J’onn or Red tornado, those are the two that make the most sense.

Helena Bertinelli is more important to the batfam than Jason Todd is.

Cassandra Cain shouldn’t be portrayed as mute anymore, it doesn’t make sense for her character or her arc.

The worst thing to happen to Poison Ivy’s character is Harley Quinn.

Mera is made to be a mother, whether to her own kids (Garth included) or as a mother figure to other kids.

On the other hand, Stephanie Brown wasn’t ready and doesn’t/didn’t want to be a mother, she gave up her baby willingly and will almost 100% not go out to look for her.

Lady Shiva’s appearances 99% of the time are out of character for her, the whole “training with Shiva” thing is also OOC for her, and Cass even existing is OOC for her. The reason that this continues though is because she’s been transformed from an actual character into a character tool.

Stephanie Brown and Cassanadra Cain are a good duo and anyone who hates on one but likes the other misunderstood both of their characters.

Dick hating Jason for what he did to Tim IS in character of him, and, in my opinion, correct of him

The rise in people who don’t like heroes’s pacifism is concerning. People calling Bruce a bad person because he doesn’t kill is concerning. People viewing Clark as boring because he’s a good person is concerning. People liking straight up villains more than they do heroes is concerning.

Anyone who recommends mister miracle should also tell them about the TW in the first few pages

Kingdom come isn’t that good, especially to non-Christians

Big Barda needs her own run. We need a Bug Barda run that covers everything from her origins to where she is now, and we need it done by a female writer who’s good at complex and heavy stories

Some of the most hated comic writers are some of the best at what they do

Chuck Dixon is just as much a blessing to any character he writes as he is a curse

Marvel’s comic writers and artists 80% of the town do a better job with their characters and their arcs than DC writers and artists.

DC should have sensitivity readers because the amount of racism in these comics is insane

It’s okay to put down a comic/run because you don’t like the art, it’s your time no one’s gonna judge you

Alex Ross’s art is actually nice, people just like hating

The Trinity should never be shipped with one another

Steve isn’t important to Diana at all, he’s barely in any of her comics actually, he’s less important to her (or at least to her character) than fucking swamp thing

Batfam is better smaller

It’s better to read the first appearances of characters, it helps you understand them better.

Lois Lane is the DC version of Susan Storm, aka the blueprint of women in that company’s comics, but also one of the most forgotten women in that company’s comics

Comics aren’t going to go anywhere arcwise for the characters long term, that’s the whole point. Batman will always have a robin. Love triangles will always be love triangles. They will all always stay young.

Old campy comics were better than modern comics.

Cheshire isn’t a redeemable character and shouldn’t be one. Women in comics should be allowed to be straight up villains and stay that way.

Cheshire having Lian is OOC. Cheshire leaving Lian is a racist trope.

Asian and Arabs are treated horribly by DC.

The New 52 is actually a good place to start for new readers, it was a good idea, but it should’ve just been an alternate universe (like mcu is to 616 kind of) or something (and it should’ve been down with the supervision of anyone who isn’t Dan didio)

DC has some of the best world building in the history of modern day media/literature especially considering how many facets of this world there were/are to build

Team rosters that are constantly changing are better than stationary ones unless they change too much/too fast

Canon is hypocritical 90% of the time, most times canon clashes and crashes and doesn’t make sense, so don’t worry about it, read a comic, count what you want to be canon as canon, throw the rest into to the “never existed” pile

I’m sorry to tell you guys this, but it isn’t an opinion, it’s an unpopular canon fact, one that even I don’t like: Dick Grayson likes pineapple one pizza

Something that I hate that been on the rise a lot lately is the fact that the fandom is so okay with character being sexualized just because they like how the characters look, I feel like we should keep our stances on this as they are with all over-sexualized characters.

Villains of the week are actually so fun, even more then the big villains sometimes.

JSA needs a comeback please and thank you (I’m begging atp)

Cassandra Cain shouldn’t be Orphan, ever, it makes no sense for her to take the name of her abused. The same way it doesn’t make sense for Jason to become red hood.

Complex characters who are dumbed down once can be dumbed down and mischaracterized every time after that, and this has been done A LOT.

The YJ shows is very much overhyped

The fact that DC overpowers their characters makes them more interesting, not less

Selina was right and in character when she left Bruce at the alter. She was not right and in character when she hid Helena from him, she wouldn’t do that.

Bruce Wayne is more fun to read when he has a pipe and fun colored robes, please give him back his pipe and his fun colored robes.

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faelapis · 4 months ago

Note

hotd: team green or black? (or?)

rhaenys thoughts?

rhaenyra x mysaria…???

house of the dragon asks! VERY LONG ANSWERS AHEAD:

1: team green or black?

there's two answers to this - the intellectual answer, and the team sports answer.

the intellectual answer is that this isn't really "the point." both sides have (and will) lose a great deal. there are no winners in war, only survivors. a petty conflict between the rich will result in the death of many.

on a broader, thematic note, my impression is that a big point of the entire "song of ice and fire" is that the unjust hierarchy of monarchy and feudalism hurts people. especially the lower classes. they are affected when lords flex military might, when they put their own survival above the realm, when they act petty, selfish or cowardly, which they frequently do. the rare "peaceful" ruler does not justify the system. the lower classes also suffer the most in war. but the system hurts everyone - even the royals themselves. they are literally killing each other for power.

THAT. BEING. SAID.

i actually disagree with the take that you can't have some fun with the team sports aspect. this is a fictional television show. Fun is allowed. it's drama! murder! crying and screaming!!!

so while HotD has overall thematic messages, the show encourages you to enjoy the back-and-forth between the characters. i don't begrudge people for their stan wars on twitter. we all know this is a fictional show - and its okay to be ruled by your emotions when watching fiction.

so. with that said? team black, 100%. i think they have more compelling characters and reasoning for their cause. fundamentally, their cause is to put a woman on the throne in a society ruled by traditional patriarchy.

look, i love alicent for her complexity. she is a well-written character who makes sense with her society... but she is not a girl's girl. she is trapped both by external forces of patriarchy and its effect on her own mind. she is stuck fighting for men and fulfilling wifely duties - never fighting for herself.

she seems pretty miserable, at the end of the day.

yes, rhaenyra is also complex. she's often a bad person - but sometimes, i like seeing a strong woman on a dragon do some crimes :) especially one who has had to fight for respect as often as rhaenyra. that's compelling tv, even if Monarchy Bad.

the greens have A Point somewhere, about stability > rhaenyra, but they are also clouded by self-interest. they didn't even TRY supporting a woman. (also, remember, this is emotion/vibes-based.)

the "aagon's dream" misunderstand was initially frustrating, which also makes me side against the greens a bit more. i like when characters are compelled by real, sincere differences in opinion. i dislike when it's just a misunderstanding that can be easily quelled.

and alicent DID have real motivations, previously! she was right that rhaenyra would have reason to kill her children to claim legitimacy - even if that's more of a Matter of War now than a real intention of hers early on.

oh well. one good thing about the misunderstanding is that it didn't actually convince anyone other than alicent. otto hightower and the council were already planning a coup. it seems mostly that it was a good tool to further their cause, not something that actually convinced the masses on a deep, personal level. you can also make the case that alicent "heard what she wanted to hear".

but it doesn't really matter because nobody was going to suddenly switch sides. the material reality is more important: the council wanted aagon. otto wanted to secure his interests. alicent wanted to secure her children's safety. the war is already happening, so alicent's misunderstanding being cleared up doesn't change anything.

and it causes alicent to realize she doesn't really have much power. society around her will keep turning, and her influence is very limited. the rabble may hate or worship her, and she has little control over it. she may be important in the council, or dismissed from it. which is leading her on a compelling arc that i'm interested to see where goes!

2: rhaenys thoughts?

very few! uhh... she seemed nice? i like her death scene?

the show seems to use her symbolically as a shorthand for "what a good woman ruler could be like" for the kingdom. but i don't know if it would've played out that way. it is hard to tell, because if she WAS queen, the society she lives in could have turned against her. or maybe she could have found a way to earn their trust. maybe viserys would've been chill enough to support her claim (probably?). but we don't know. she's The Queen Who Never Was (tm).

3: rhaenyra x mysaria?

ok so, i do actually have a hot take on this, cuz i've seen some call it "rushed." it may ruffle some feathers. here we go:

i dont think every gay kiss has to feel like an "earned" 50k slowburn fic. it's well-established that instant or near-instant attraction is a thing. i dont think it will be "endgame," but i dont think it needs to be.

i think sometimes - often in this show - you see a man and a woman meet and fuck the same night. people tend to just accept that. not every case of attraction has to be based on a Deep Bond of Many Years. sometimes, a man and woman on this show have no real bond, yet as soon as they Walk Close to Each Other, it's accepted "they will fuck that night."

i would also suggest that not everything is literal. it's addressed in canon that rhaenyras' attraction to daemon came hand-in-hand with what he represented to her. which was, in a word, freedom. she wanted to BE him more than anything.

if we take a non-literal approach, what might mysaria represent?

right now, i think its rhaenyras desperation for someone to listen to her. her council belittles her for being a woman. it protects her like a "daughter" rather than a ruler. mysaria both listens to her, and plots with her on equal level. in a way, she represents (and yes this is a somewhat cliche thing in gay pairings, but not for no reason!) a sense of equality and mutual understanding in a patriarchal world.

they are not "literally" equal in terms of rank - but again, it does not have to be completely literal. mysaria feels Treated like an equal by rhaenyra. she's trusted (and given agency), and earns rhaenyras trust (+expands her own agency) in turn.

mysaria additionally seems to represent a different idea of rebellion against patriarchy - an involuntary one. because she cannot perform its most core obligation of (presumed cisgender) womanhood: she cannot bear children. she must find other forms of "worth" in the world. she has no choice.

rhaenyra herself desires to take up sword, rule in a "masculine" way. so being the only other woman there + both of them standing outside patriarchys desired paths for them + being able to help/depend on each other... seems, to me, to serve the Themes of rhaenyras repression vs liberation well.

not to mention, it's interesting in light of rhaenyra being kinda gnc-coded in... other ways!

anyway. like i said, i Highly Doubt these two will be any kind of "endgame." but that's okay. sometimes, you dont need an eternity together - you just need a moment.

i think there's a certain breed of fan who sees many things only through shipping. so if there's not a long, "satisfying" arc of these two developing feelings for each other, it's a "badly written ship." especially for gay couples. and i don't think this is even conscious homophobia, i think its (partially from queer viewers!!) because they WANT to root for those ships. they WANT a gay ship to feel perfectly "right" in a heteronormative world.

well i'm sorry to say, this show is not a romance. it is not about ships or the idealized, perfectly developed couple. sometimes, people find an attraction to one another in ways that are not ideal. shit happens. people get lonely. people find relief in the only other person there who seems to understand them. sometimes it's quick. sometimes it's the opposite of a 50k coffeeshop slowburn AU.

but that does not mean it's bad. it's just reality.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd spoilers #long post /#gifs /#rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #mysaria #rhaenyra x mysaria #hotd season 2

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spicybunni · 1 year ago

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🤍My little Nurse 🤍

Summary: Miguel and the spider gang are in rough shape after successfully saving a dimension from disappearing. Y/N is one of the Spider Nurses of Spider society. Everyone appreciates your help in patching them up, but Miguel needs extra help…

A/N: this is based off one of my theories that Miguel needs to release his venom after injecting himself with Rapture before every battle or rescue. 👀 also this is my first time writing anything Spider-Man so hang on!! Comments are appreciated!!

⚠️Warnings: biting, injuries, hospitalization

It was almost time for your rotation to be off. You’ve spent 12 hours fixing suit after suit, detaching webs, and bandaging humorous spideys. The shifts drain you, but you wouldn’t want to change it. Before joining Spider Society, you worked as a regular nurse helping the people of New York. Now you got to help the heroes who help more people than you ever could. Being born with incredible strength and healing webs was a blessing, but jumping buildings and flinging items with your webs was never on your agenda.

Your thoughts are interrupted with an orange glow from your watch followed with alarming beeps. Ah yes, Lyla.

“Y/N!! Miguel’s crew need you and your nurses to meet them at the entrance portal. They’re in really bad shape. Please hurry.”

You’ve never heard her so frantic before. What happened?

“O-Of course Lyla, we’ll be on our way now.”

You turn towards your small team of 4 spider nurses.

“Grab 5 stretchers and all your supplies now. Miguel and his squad are reported to be heavily injured upon their return.”

The Spider nurses flinched at the mention of Miguel’s name. He is a popular subject and figure in Spider society. But not in a good way…Besides his good looks and silent demeanor, his temper, work ethic, and leadership are what make him so fearsome to the other Spiders. You only had brief exchanges with him before. He’s never the one that’s injured. It’s usually his teammates that you’re patching up. You’re always the one talking while he gives you side eye or just looks down at you giving single word responses.

——————🕸️🕸️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕸️🕸️——————

You and your spiders zoom through the halls with supplies and equipment ready. Everyone is polite moving out of your way, respecting the work you do.

Finally reaching the return portal, you set everything up for Miguel and his crew’s return. Nothing is showing up yet, so in the spare minutes you have you start to create extra healing web rolls.

“There we go!” You finish 3 by the time the portal starts to shift colors. Your team is alert and ready.

The first to come out is Hobie and Pavitr. Both hanging onto each other and limping.

Pavitr greets you by waving his hand but quickly regrets making such a movement, damaging his ribs more. “Ah Y/N thank the heavens!! Ack!..Ouch!”

“Mate I suggest you be still.” Hobie mumbles. He’s no better unfortunately. But of course he’s too cool to show how hurt he actually is. Your spiders guide them onto the stretchers, getting them settled in. Gwen follows after the boys through the portal. She’s clutching onto the top of her arm but it looks like she’s able to walk. Once she notices you she instantly perks up.

“Y/N! Boy am I glad to see you! Please help me out.” You chuckle at her request guiding her towards a stretcher.

“Of course I will kiddo, that’s my job.”

And now you wait for two more. Jessica and Miguel.

Before you could prepare more bandages, you hear a motorcycle come through the portal. Jessica of course is up front, but what unnerves you is the very disheveled and battered Miguel leaning behind her. Lyla wasn’t kidding. At least out of all of them Jessica looked unharmed.

You sigh in relief that none of them are in critical condition.

“Y/N bring the stretcher over here quickly. Miguel needs some help.” Jessica alerts you and like a pinch to the arm you shift into speed mode. None of the other spiders wanna deal with an injured Miguel so they leave it to you.

Gently you take him by the arm to shift him from the bike down to the stretcher. His mask is off and you’re able to see his scarred face and messy mask hair. After touching him he opens his brown eyes to look at you.

“I don’t need your help…” He grumbles. You feel his muscles tensing to sit up, but you’re not gonna let that happen. You grip the stretcher with your right hand and place the left on his shoulder, applying slight pressure. “You need to be healed. Nothing good comes from pushing yourself too far.” You say with a stern but calming tone. Just as he’s about to retort something, Jessica beats him to it.

“Miguel let Y/N do her job, you will heal faster by her webs than handling it on your own.”

He looks at Jessica and then back to you for a moment, contemplating if he wants to cooperate. He knows you take care of Spider Society, what is there to distrust? But god damn the headache he has right now. The sooner he’s out to the Medical Facility the better.

“Tch. Fine.”

You feel a slight warmth, receiving trust from such a figure in your workplace. Alright, don’t screw it up. Got it.

——————🕸️🕸️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕸️🕸️——————

You and your spider nurses line most of them up in one room. Miguel requested to be set in a separate room from the chaotic teenagers. Can’t really blame him for that. But now it was like a game of Dare-or-Dare of who has to check on Miguel. You volunteered because once again this is your job. Totally not because you have slight crush like some others in the office. Oh god what are you thinking?! “Be professional Y/N. He is your boss, remember that.”

You knock on the door twice waiting for him to respond. You hear a weak and muffled “Come in” from the other side. Letting yourself in with his permission, your eyes find him quickly. He’s hooked to one heart monitor, seems everything is good. But he looks as if he’s burning in a sauna. Panting and sweating from his forehead. You rush to his side and put the back of your hand to his forehead. “Are you alright? You’re burning up Mr.O’Hara.” You grab a cloth from the table beside him and dab at his head to clean the sweat. He opens his eyes again to look at you, a pained expression forming on his face. “Y/N there’s somethi- Ugh..” He pauses as he coughs a little. Poor dude you thought. He must be fighting something in his system. “I need you to do something for me.” He says, grabbing your attention once more. Suddenly you have a tight grip on your arm from his hand. He lifts it to his mouth, your forearm touching his face. You blush like wild from the unexpected contact and the need in his eyes.

You start to panic seeing his fangs pop out.His grip on your arm is not wavering as you try to pull away. “Wait what are you-“ you panicked tone makes him look at you almost in sympathy.

“Just hold still enfermera.”

You feel his bite before his fangs even break the skin, making you yelp in surprise. Your free hand is pushing onto the rail of the hospital bed trying to pry yourself away from your vampire spider boss. “Miguel what!- W-What are you doing-…Ah..” You don’t care about work formalities at this point. This man is biting you after all the care you and your team gave him. His strength was no joke, even against yours. But slowly you feel a numbness flow through your arm, making you weak.

His eyes are shut through this whole situation. Using both hands now to hold your arm in a death grip. Drops of your blood from the puncture start to drip onto his bed sheets. You wince in the uncomfortable position, about ready to collapse onto him with how heavy your body feels now.

After a few more seconds he loosens his grip on you and his lips make a pop noise coming off your arm. You already know it’s gonna be bruised by tomorrow.

He lets out a sigh. The illness he seemed plagued with earlier has vanished from his features. Did he inject it into you instead?

He still has one hand holding onto your bitten forearm, while his other is wiping the small drops of your blood from his mouth. Focusing his gaze on your form now, he finally speaks.

“I’m sorry, there’s a reason I didn’t want you to help me Y/n..I wasn’t able to bite the anomaly we were trying to capture on the mission. And the venom takes a toll on my own body.” You’re nodding in trying to keep your attention on his words. “W-What did you d-do to me…I feel so-“ it was hard speaking, let alone still standing. You leaned onto the hospital bed now.

“You’re going to be paralyzed for a moment Y/N . I’ve got you. Just sleep.” It’s almost like a command, and your body can’t help but obey. You collapse onto him, your torso meeting his lap. He pulls you up to rest on top of him. Despite his own injuries he’s in way better shape now that the rapture venom is out of his system. Now you’re the one rising in temperature and sweating. He fixes your nurses cap and moves your hair from your face, letting you breath.

“What will I do with you now, mi pequeña enfermera…”

———————🕸️🕸️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕸️———————

#spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #oscar issac characters

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recurring-polynya · 12 days ago

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How do you compare and contrast rukia’s relationships with ichigo and renji?

Rukia and Ichigo:

She saved his life and then he had to put up with her

After some amount of initial frustration, built an intense friendship over a short period of time based mostly on admiration of each other's ideals and character

Rukia takes a mentorship role early in their relationship. Later, he greatly surpasses her in power, although she still occasionally gives him encouragement and support (largely by yelling at him)

Ride or die for each other

Tend to see each other for relatively brief, emotionally charged situations, with separations in-between. Although Ichigo was unhappy during the period that it seemed he might never see her again, this generally seems to work out for them. ("This isn't going to be the last time I say [good-bye], so who cares how many times I say it?")

Come from different planes of existence. Frequently find each other's views and behaviors to be weird and nonsensical, usually in a teasing way.

Can fight as a team, or part of a larger team, but show no particular preference for doing so. Ichigo tends to team up with most of his friends (and sometimes enemies) but his nature as the extra-powerful protagonist often has him fighting solo.

During the initial course of their friendship, they had a lot of solo time, but once Ichigo's shinigami powers become general knowledge, they are more likely to be seen as part of a larger group.

As far as we know, their relationship has no romantic or sexual aspects to it. This is a shounen, so they wouldn't show that anyway, but obviously through the power of fanfiction and wishful thinking, all things are possible.

Rukia and Renji:

She saved his life and then he had to put up with her

After some amount of initial frustration, built a strong friendship over a long period of time based on shared experiences, common ideals, and admiration of each other's character.

Although they have periods where one or the other pulls ahead or falls behind, are generally equal in power and rank. (Rukia yells at him just because she can)

Ride or die for each other

Work in the same organization, have a shared social circle, and (based on filler episodes) hang out regularly. Were both deeply lonely and unhappy during the period where they separated due to societal pressures.

Are very frequently the exact same flavor of batshit insane.

Will often preferentially team-up during combat scenarios, even though they are in different squads. Have basically been joined at the hip from the end of the Soul Society arc onward.

Sometimes they have to put up with Byakuya, but spend a lot of time (which is to say most of the Blood War and two New Year's episodes) one-on-one.

Are married, cohabitate, and have a child. This is a shounen, so they wouldn't show it, but Occam's razor would suggest that they are romantically and sexually attracted to one another. Obviously, once again, through the power of fanfiction and wishful thinking, all things are possible.

#i wrote this out in good faith but #when i get an anon ask wanting me to weigh in on the most contentious ship war in the fandom #(phrased like a 4th grade homework assignment no less)#i feel like you're just trying to get me to start shit and i don't care for it #there are so many more interesting things to talk about in the world

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akingdomscrypt · 1 year ago

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Make a Mercy Out of Me

Part Three

Pairing; König x m!reader

Word Count; ~7.66k

Warnings; kinda sorta graphic depiction of stitching up wounds near the end. So if you don't like needles.. be careful.

A/n; König is a sergeant bc I said so and it fits my narrative. There's also plans in work for why he's a part of 141 & background knowledge on him. Lore. Eventually.

(we need more clips of this man istg-)

--- "babysitting duty" ---

You were a frustrating man to work with. You had hardly said much of anything during that sad excuse of an interrogation, at least nothing of much use. All they knew now was that there was someone out there who held your leash. Or, well, used to. You were a wildcard now, without someone to keep you on lock and key, and there was no way in the deepest pits of hell they could set you loose on the world with what they knew–which wasn't much. Not unless you were hanging off their every word or buried six feet under an unmarked grave.

"You talk about him like he's some sort of lab experiment."

"Mm." Well… "maybe he is. Who knows."

"He isn't some feral dog, König."

He didn't like it. As much as your words had ignited a–often ignored–spark in him, there was something itching at the back of his mind telling him you weren't trustworthy. That you'd stab him and the rest of the task force in the back the moment you were left to your own devices.

"We should keep him."

"He's a person."

"Not a good one."

"Neither are we."

They had to keep you, if at least for society's sake, on that straining lead. As any slack would surely be the catalyst of his very own demise.

I could make the world bleed.

The words were stuck on replay in König's mind, as well as the man who had spoken them. It was a horrible thought to have–but he couldn't help but find it.. intriguing. The idea made his heart skip a beat and the corner of his scarred mouth curl.

"He said he'd make the world bleed, König. That's fuckin' creepy as shite!" Ghost spat, arms crossed over his chest, as the two made the journey back to the rest of the team.

"You have said much stranger things, Ghost."

"You can't really be considerin' this." A few beats of silence from the larger man was all the confirmation Ghost needed. "Price would never agree to it."

"He said he could help."

"Help." Ghost huffed. "Right. Help with what exactly? He has no idea what we've been working on."

"Ja, he doesn't know. But what about that bomber? Could it be relevant?" Besides Mouse, the team had been tracking a much more persistent threat. Something that left behind more than just breadcrumbs in the form of mutilated bodies.

"...are you sayin' he could be involved in this?"

"He has been showing up right after every hit."

"Right." Ghost pauses in his tracks, turning his head slightly to look up at the other man. "So you think he's with them? Or.. maybe one of their targets?"

König comes to a stop too and takes a moment to mull it over. Could you have been a part of the group they'd been hunting these past few months? It was a little.. suspicious that you'd show up and take out another high-profile figure right after every strike made. Were you cleaning up their mess? Or your own?

"That's all the more reason to keep him, no? To find out? We know he has someone he reports to." There was also the fact that the explosion had gone off practically right under your own two feet. That had to mean something.

Just following orders?

"It's a little concerning when I of all people have to remind you that he is a very real, living, breathing, capable-of complex-thought person." König brushes off Ghost's concerns with a noncommittal shrug.

If they took the route of you having been just another victim of the explosion, that left many unexplained variables. Such as why you were a target–wouldn't one terrorist organization blend well with another? Why would they be at odds? It also leaves the question that, if you had really been abandoned by your crew, why had "she"–the woman who you'd mentioned–left you for dead? Was it legitimate? Or a ploy of some kind?

Then there was the more believable scenario that would tell it as; you hadn't really been betrayed by your group, or whoever held your metaphorical leash. And the explosion was some kind of distraction, a way to get their attention. Maybe–if one applies the theory that you were in cahoots with the people they'd been hunting–you had wanted to get caught. Or, maybe not you specifically, but whoever "she" was. Maybe you were sent as bait and they'd fallen right into that mouse trap–heh.

Maybe you didn't even know this was all a farce. That would make it all the more believable, no?

Either way, they need you here. For information. And if they played their cards right, if they burrowed their way under your skin and into your heart–like a damn parasite–you would give them exactly what they wanted. Lead them right to both the core of your organization and the group behind the bombing. And if the people or persons behind the bombing were by some miracle connected to who they had been tracking…

"He can help." His words help a certain air of finality to them, a small grin making an appearance under his hood.

Another sigh, but not a no.

Price wasn't as thrilled by König's proposal as Ghost begrudgingly was.

"You want to what." König wasn't a fearful man–unless he was ordering from a drive-thru, that shit was terrifying–but when the Captain looked at him like that. Let's just say he was forever grateful for the cloth that obscured almost the entirety of his face.

"Keep him." And if his voice comes out a little smaller than normal… no one mentions it.

To his right, König hears Ghost let out another heavy sigh. For a man who used to take a blowtorch to a hostage's skin and quite literally wears a skull stitched onto his face every day- if you'd asked König, he'd tell you the Lieutenant had grown soft. Or, well, soft-ish. He would still slit a man's throat without question.

"Why'd you wanna do that?" Gaz pipes up, giving König a blank, indecipherable expression. Coupled with his tone, König couldn't tell which side of the fence he was leaning towards. He knew Gaz, out of all of them, was the one with a more strict moral compass–something König both admired and thought of as foolish–but he also already didn't like their current hostage. So, discerning whether the other man would be for or against his proposition was a complex feat. König would have to walk that fine line, choose his words carefully, to sway Gaz's opinion in his favor.

"We could use his help." Is what König finally lands on. Not leaning too far into what Ghost had described as treating you like a tool, but not dipping into friendly territory either. An even middle ground.

"From what Ghost and I managed to gather," well, König had gathered. Ghost more or less just stood in the background as a silent spectator. "He claims he's been abandoned by someone he'd only refer to as "she". That this woman brought him here from wherever he came from to follow some lead- but that lead seems to have been a dead end."

"A dead end?" If Gaz's thing was compassion and strict morals, Soap's was intrigue. Puzzles and demolitions, that's all it took to draw in their resident impulse-driven pyromaniac.

"A dead end," König repeats, now switching his attention to the Scotsman. "Turns out there was no target, not really. Or, at least, that is what it appears like at first glance."

Soap's eyes light up when König moves to reach into his pocket, fishing for the blank note. Bingo.

"At first, when we pulled this off him, we had assumed it to be blank," he unfolds the crinkled-up paper, mud, water stains and all. König reaches his hand out to pass the note to Price, keeping the others on the edge of their seats. "But if you take another look.."

Price inspects it with a deep frown, then passes it to Gaz, who looks at it with a skeptical raise of his brow, next is Soap then Ghost, and finally back around to König. Upon closer inspection, past all the grime and stains, there was a faint red scribble.

"It is like there was something here," he mutters, smoothing a gloved thumb over the worn parchment as if that will somehow make the faded words clearer.

"But someone must've purposefully scrubbed it away." Ghost adds, seeming much more interested than he had earlier.

Any other person would probably have brushed the now-pinkish, washed-out markings as blood. And König almost had; after all, you were practically swimming in your own blood right now. Clothes stained with it far past recognition.

Even so, he knew that wasn't it.

The paper had a slew of things it was coated in–some recognizable, some not–, but blood was, surprisingly, not one of them.

"Dae ya think 'e knows?" Two.

"Maybe he was the one who erased it?" Three.

"We won't know unless we ask him. But,"

They all look over to Price, waiting for the man's next words with bated breaths.

"We can't jus' do it outright." Price's steely gaze lands on König and he subconsciously stands a little taller.

"König's got the right idea. We can't jus' kill 'im. Not yet." Four. "Not until we know everything he does."

"Aye, Captain." Soap grins, pushing up from where he'd been resting against a wall. He tilts his head in the direction Ghost and König had come from. "Let's go wear 'im down then, yeah?"

"Preferably before he bleeds out." Ghost reluctantly grumbles. "Bastard already looks to be halfway through death's door."

Price looks to König, cocking his head slightly to the right.

"You said he believes he was abandoned, right?"

"That is correct, sir." The corner of Price's mouth ticks up.

"So no one's coming for 'im then?"

A sick twist of anticipation began to swell in König's chest, and suddenly he was a lot more confident than he was a few seconds ago.

"Precisely."

The last thing you were expecting after those two giants left was for them to return with the whole damn crew. You'd be lying if you said the leader didn't make every inch of your being tense up. There was just something in his eyes; that cool blue, warmer than König's but still so cold, gave off a deceiving "I'm not a threat" while simultaneously saying "flinch and I'll kill you".

The dark-skinned man and the baby-faced one stood a little ways behind you, and closer to the door. The leader took a seat in the chair König had been sitting in–assuming the same position the Austrian had. Skull-face stood in the same place and König took his place on your right-hand side. Standing just far enough behind you to barely graze your peripheral but close enough where you could feel his presence looming near you. Invading your personal little space bubble with his, so close if he leaned any closer he'd be brushing up right against you.

The leader tried his hand at interrogating you again. It went a little something like this;

"Do you know why she left you?'

"Probably had something to do with my bad attitude."

He gives you an unimpressed look. You simply raise your eyebrows in question. You had broken your vow of silence, but that didn't mean you were going to make it easy on them.

"König said you could help us. Mind tellin' me what exactly you could do to help?"

"I have connections. People who owe me a favor or two." Or five. Hey, in your defense, you had been in the game for a while.

"Are these connections… legal?"

"I highly doubt you care about legalities if you are conversing with me still," Then, just to be a little shit, you add a snide, "sir."

You swear you hear a small huff behind you and you brush it off as a figment of your imagination. After all, you had lost a ton of blood.. It was a miracle you hadn't passed out again from blood loss. At this rate, you should probably be dead. Or, at the very least, comatose or something. Not back-talking the man who was very literally your golden ticket to freedom.

You blamed it on the blood loss. Made you say stupid shit.

"What else can you offer us?" In other words; why should we keep you?

"One less Brit in your ranks?"

"..what?"

"You all could really use some diversity."

There's a pregnant pause before,

"Is making jokes all you're good for?" Skull-face speaks up from behind the leader.

"What can I say? It is part of my charm."

The bearded man in front of you lets out a heavy sigh. Something about that sigh told you this type of thing wasn't new to him. A small part of you perked up with curiosity. You then proceed to beat that part of you back down into a bloody pulp.

"Are you goin' to take this seriously or not, Mouse?" The leader captures your attention again and you shrug. You really should take this more seriously… but the lack of vital, life-supporting fluid in your system was making you loopy.

And stupid.

"König?"

Very stupid.

A small grunt from behind you.

"Hast du darüber nachgedacht, was ich gesagt habe?" (Have you thought about what I said?)

The man in front of you frowns, looking from you to König, to you again. But he doesn't stop you. Someone probably should.

There's a terse silence before König replies.

"Deshalb sind sie hier." (That's why they're here.)

Despite your slightly dazed state, you smile a little to yourself.

"Did you tell him?" Now the leader looks even more confused, if not a little more frustrated. Good.

"Tell me what?" His glare is now trained on König, and you know you've gotten the giant into deep shit now. Even better.

"Nein."

And just like that you, very foolishly, let out a small puff of what was obviously an attempt at laughter. Though a poor one.

At this is rate, you'd sooner get yourself killed than cut loose, but your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. It also seemed to be keen on digging you into deeper shit.

"It is a good deal.." you trail off, narrowing your eyes a little at the leader. It would be great if you knew their names. But no one seemed interested in filling you in on that, so you continue, "you all could really use the help. After all, the only reason you lot even caught me was 'cause I was having a bit of a bad day."

"A bit of a bad day?" Leader asks.

"Aye," you drawl. Your heart thudded a few times in your chest, slowed, then picked back up again. Really, you should be dead, slumped over in your chair, by now. "Got blown up. Stabbed a few times.. broke a few bones.."

You give a sloppy grin beneath your mask. Yeah, definitely shouldn't be awake right now. "Bit of a bad day."

"He's useless like this, Cap'." One of the men from somewhere by the roll-up door pipes up.

"Agreed." Skull-face huffs. "Poor guy's all hopped up on adrenaline. He's not much use to us now."

The leader–Captain?–scrutinizes you for a few more moments before exhaling heavily.

"Alright." He grumbles, standing up from the chair.

"König," the Brit calls on the man beside you but keeps his stare trained on you, as if daring you to utter another smart-assed quip. "You were so damn adamant about keeping 'im, yeah?"

It's obviously a rhetorical question and the atmosphere shifts, the tension in the air palpable.

The leader, or, you guess, Captain–these men and their pretentious titles..–adjusts the beige-colored, boonie hat on top of his head and signals something to the two men by the door. You hear the telltale clanking of the metal being rolled up.

"You're on babysitting duty, Sergeant," he says in that displeased rumble–one you had become very familiar with during the first attempt at interrogation–as he makes his way for the door. "So get his arse back in the van, we're moving to someplace more permanent."

The other three men proceed to file out after their Captain, leaving you alone with the, now fuming, Austrian.

Annnnnnd…

"Maus." He grits out from behind you. You proceed to, very smartly, not respond.

Shit.

Instead, you stay stock still even as König leans over you and unsheathes a knife from someplace on his person. One heavy hand gripping your, thankfully, non-injured shoulder and the other reaching around to rest the blade beneath your chin. He urges your head up with the tip of it until your eyes–oh, yeah, he was definitely pissed–lock with his. In the short time you'd known him you had almost forgotten how downright intimidating only being able to see those pale, glowing blues staring through your very soul was.

"Sie werden es bereuen." (literal; you will regret it. Contextual; you're going to regret this.)

He, while maintaining eye contact, removes the knife and brings it down to hover just above your waist. Your own gaze can't help but flick between his and his weapon-welding hand. Self-preservation, you call it. König, after all, has that sharp metal alarmingly close to your dick.

You choose to ignore the thrill that causes your breath to hitch, an unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere in the deepest pits of your hindbrain.

You watch as he–in a strange show of caution–places the gloved hand that had been on your shoulder beneath the coarse rope, thumb and fourth finger keeping the binding in place, and swiftly slices through the thickly twined fibers. He then makes quick work of doing the same to the rope wrapped around your thighs and ankles. The barest hints of warmth emitting from him easily seep through the thin, ruined cloth of your pants. But before you can think too much about how long it's been since you last felt the touch of another not-currently-dying human being, König pulls back.

When you look back up to search out his gaze you find he is no longer staring you down, his own focus entirely on freeing you from the bindings. The lack of pressure on your worn body is a relief and the next breath that leaves you is shakier than the last–you choose to believe it's just your body coming down from its adrenaline high.

The last of the rope that had been keeping your lower half bound to the chair falls away to the floor with a soft thump and König retreats completely to move onto your hands. Thank fuck for your own fabric-clad hands, you aren't sure how much more of this non-threatening touch you could take before you fucking imploded or something. All you can feel is the slight graze of his deft fingers against your concealed wrists, and even that is muted. Courtesy of the current lack of decent blood circulation to your bound extremities.

After that final piece of rope is removed, you're being yanked to your feet. Off-balanced and stumbling as blood rushes back to every limb, you nearly come crashing straight back down. König's firm hold on your forearm is the only thing that keeps you from taking an embarrassing nosedive into hard concrete.

Panting heavily behind the fabric of your mask, you groan as the world swims around you. König only spares you a few seconds to steady yourself and then he's making a sudden appearance in front of you and trading out his grip on your forearm to engulf your wrist–and subsequently almost your entire hand–in one large hand. He wastes no time in tugging you forward to follow in his footsteps.

You realize quickly that the time between the rest of the group leaving and König's undoing of your bindings hadn't really been more than a few moments–half a minute at most–, as the other members of König's team were just now turning a corner and leaving your field of vision.

How embarrassing, you think, it felt like a fucking eternity.

König easily uses his tight grasp on your wrist to lift you up just enough so you don't have to make the small hop off of the elevated ledge and out of the storage unit–thank fuck it wasn't your injured arm. You aren't sure whether to be annoyed at his blatant show of strength–seriously, the movement seemed entirely effortless on his part–or grateful you didn't have to make the jump. Your depth perception wasn't exactly the best right now and you probably would've just fallen right over. You doubted you would have even had the energy to catch yourself.

The walk out of this seemingly abandoned facility and back out into the scalding heat–huh, they must not have taken you very far–was surprisingly quick. Your barely lucid brain blocked out the majority of the dizzying twists and turns it took to find the exit. And soon enough you find yourself back in the loading space of that damn van.

This time you are mostly conscious, so you're granted the wonderful opportunity of bearing witness to the burning glares of the three other men seated on the opposite bench. König takes his place beside you and actively decides to not even glance in your direction. Instead silently communicates something to the other passive-aggressive passengers. Well, skull-face was definitely more on the aggressive side of the spectrum, but you were mostly certain he couldn't do anything. Or so you hoped.

The baby-faced one was looking at you with more curiosity than anything, a minor hint of defense hidden somewhere in those–why the hell does everyone here have the same eyes??–vivid blues. That barely concealed interest was more terrifying than skull-face's obvious death stare.

The Captain turned his attention to the Austrian beside you, nonverbally communicating his displeasure with a hard glare and deep frown. Ah, the dark-skinned man must've been the one driving the damn thing.

After a few more painstaking minutes of having a half-assed staring contest with the two men across from you, you give up and let your eyelids fall half-shut. Still nauseous with blood loss and possible infection, you pant lightly within the confines of your mask. Heat continues to build in the suffocating cloth and you let out another soft groan, unable to help yourself when you slump backward against the metal wall of the vehicle.

The ground moving beneath you does nothing to aid your current lightheadedness and you find yourself focusing most of your limited attention span on not vomiting in your mask. That would be a hellscape on its own to clean, and the humiliation would probably kill you off before the budding infection had the chance.

It doesn't take much time before you can no longer fight off the exhaustion weighing down the big ball of throbbing pain that is your entire body and your eyelids finally slip shut. Before you have the chance to force your eyes open again–this is definitely not an ideal place to fall asleep–a sudden heavy thwack against your mutilated shoulder does the job for you.

Your eyes snap back open, fully alert as you search out the culprit. You find König giving you a blank, deadpan stare and the venomous words sprouting on the tip of your tongue quickly fizzle out when you notice the van has stopped moving. In fact, you two are the only ones remaining inside. The other four are piling up just out of earshot, the backdoors wide open and showing off- well, nothing. It's dark and all you can make out are vague shapes in the background.

You huff and go to stand but König beats you to it. Still holding onto your wrist, he gives a sharp tug and you stagger out of your seat. You send him a seething glare but find that his attention is no longer on you.

König pulls you out the same way he had the storage unit; efficiently lifting you by your arm and out of the vehicle. You barely manage to keep your balance when your boots touch solid ground again and just that little bit of exertion has you sucking in ragged gulps of air.

When the Captain glances over to you two, König makes a show of lifting your arm into the air as if to say got it and the Captain gives a small nod in acknowledgment. You don't have the wherewithal to give a shit about being treated more like an object than a person, brushing it off and trading it out to take in your surroundings instead. Besides, it wasn't something you were exactly.. unfamiliar with.

Surrounding you is another compound. More well-kept than the storage facility you had previously been in, but still obviously worn. The stark white walls were practically glowing in contrast to the pitch-black, starless night sky. Besides some crumbling and scuff marks here and there–most likely from environmental weathering over time–the cinder block walls were almost pristine.

Your fuzzy, mush of a brain briefly considers asking König where the hell they had brought you, but your tongue is like lead in your mouth. Not that it really mattered, you highly doubt he would've told you anyway. You were a prisoner, after all. A prisoner who they were only keeping alive on the off-chance you could help.

Help with what exactly? You had not a clue. Hopefully, they'd soon get their shit together and tell you sooner rather than later. Then again.. what would they do with you once your use to them came to an end? Would they just end up killing you anyway?

Floodlights abruptly make an unwelcome appearance, bathing the courtyard in a blindingly white light and knocking that train of thought right out of your head. You cringe away from the sudden brightness, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily before blinking a few times in rapid succession to adjust.

You only have the time to register the sheer size of the compound before you are being tugged forward again and into the said building. As usual, you silently curse König's unfairly long legs and subsequent far longer strides as you try your damnedest to keep up. The nausea, burning full body ache, and pounding against your skull have yet to lessen. If anything it's become more of an issue now that you're not running on pure adrenaline.

You find yourself fumbling over your own miscalculated steps more often than you make a successful one, König having to more or less drag the majority of your dead weight along with him. The behemoth of a man doesn't even have the decency to make it look like doing so is any struggle. Bastard.

The interior lighting of the compound is somehow far much worse than the blaring exterior. You squint against the harsh brightness and it takes a few seconds for your pulpy mess of a brain to make out the shapes and colors in front of you. Or, well, the astonishing lack of colors. Dull shades of grey coupled with a blinding light. Perfect.

Someone's talking. Multiple someone's, really. But your ears are too stuffed full of cotton to make any sense of what's being said. The most you can do is try to read their lips–which proves to be futile–and try to gauge the emotional state of the men in the room.

The plainly, uniform-dressed men standing guard seem to not at all have a problem with the crew that had brought you in. Though obviously holding a subordinate position in comparison to the team, they shared easy smiles and small laughs with the group. The Captain appears to be keeping up a polite kind of façade–was this not his base?–as he converses with the two newbies. Skull-face, mohawk guy, and the Captain's obvious favorite all stand behind the Captain in an organized order. With skull-face standing the closest–was he some kind of right-hand man?–babyface and the third man stood at a respectful distance. Not too close, but just near enough to assist if needed.

König kept you a little more ways away from the others, a firmer grip on your wrist than before. It would probably hurt if the remainder of your body wasn't currently one giant sore spot. You realize why when one of the guards spares a glance at you and, spotting your eyes on him, immediately shrinks back and averts his gaze.

Ah, this definitely wasn't their base. Made sense. They all were clearly European and unfamiliar with the normalities of wherever the fuck you all were right now. Faintly, you remember the dark-skinned man complaining about how weird it was driving on the right-hand side of the road.

You're snapped out of your own musings by a harsh pull on your arm. A small noise of surprise escapes you and, before you know it, the guards are moving out of the way and you are being escorted further into the building.

Going off the darkness you had awakened to, it is obviously late at night, maybe even well into the morning by now, and the only people you all pass are all exhausted-looking security personnel.

König follows behind the other four down corridor after corridor, dragging you along behind him. Eventually, you all make it out into what appears like a sort of gathering place or common room. For a split second you think they're going to stop there, but, no, they keep going. Down more confusing hallways and through nonsense doors.

Then finally, finally, it all comes to a stop at an unremarkable metal door. Nothing on it, not even a little window, with the exception of the room number plastered next to it.

You squint at the numbers, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes. There's a small tugging in the back of your mind and, if you were any more aware, you'd almost say it was familiar. Huh.

The Captain unlocks and pushes open the door, then, before you even have the opportunity to protest, König yanks you close and shoves you forward. You stumble–again, seriously, did they think you were made of fucking steel??–through the doorway and only barely manage to break your fall on the closet wall. You stand there for a moment, panting and bracing against hard concrete, while the others file in.

If it wasn't for the unnecessarily heavy thunk you probably wouldn't have realized that the door had been shut. Your vision blurs then blacks out for a split second while you catch your breath, and the only thing on your mind is; how the hell am I not dead yet?

You're only given a few more moments of rest then you're being pulled by the wrist again. Unable to even really feel your legs anymore, the sudden brushing of something solid against the backs of your knees is all you have to tell you you've even moved. You don't have to be told twice to sit, hell, you probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they had given the order.

You drop your weight instantly, unable to hold yourself up any longer. You can't feel much through the fabric separating your fingertips from what's below, but from the slight give when you press down, if you had to guess, you'd say you were seated on a cot of some kind. It's not the most comfortable, but it's the best thing you've had in a long, long while.

Lifting your gaze at the sound of someone's voice, you blink rapidly in a vain attempt at refocusing your vision.

"Hm?"

All four men standing in the room give you vaguely concerned grimaces. Well, you assume König and skull-face do, judging by the crinkling of their limited expression.

"I said-" the Captain begins. Not that you hear any of what comes after that. Head full of cotton and feeling simultaneously like you're both floating and being weighed down by a ship's anchor, you're left futilely trying to read his lips. But that only makes the pounding in your head worsen and you screw your eyes shut again.

Cradling your head in your hands you lean down, elbows propped up on your knees. You suck in shallow, shaky breaths, fruitlessly trying to get the proper amount of oxygen to the lump of mass that is your brain.

When your eyes flutter open again the lights have been dimmed just enough to take the edge off, reducing the strain on your eyes, and you immediately slump in relief. You think you mutter your gratitude under your breath, but, really, you're far too out of it to be certain.

A few more muffled words and the soft thumping of footsteps later and the door opens then shuts one last time. You look up expecting to see nothing but an empty room, a little caught off guard when that behemoth of a man is still looming near the door.

"We should really get you checked out," König says, giving a brief once-over at your disheveled appearance. Giving a noncommittal hum, you take a look down at yourself.

You had not bothered to take full stock of your person since the initial confrontation–and even that was a laughable inspection at best.

Every inch of your exposed skin–which, truthfully, wasn't much–was coated in a layer of mud and your own blood. Your thin civilian outfit was in a similar state of disrepair; caked in blood, more mud, and bits of stuck-on foliage as well. Accompanied with the occasional tear and hole here and there, of course.

"I'll get a medi-" Before he even gets the word out you're launching yourself up and off the bed. Charging at him despite how unsafe that currently is and reaching up to slam your grimy, gloved hand over where you assume his mouth is.

König quickly and easily peels your hand away by the wrist, staring down at you with less anger and more of a really, what are you doing? kind of look.

"Nie." (No.) You breathe as your only explanation. You had had enough of fucking medical staff in your time before your years-long solo operation began. Unknown injections, emotionless stares, and needles. Needles, needles, needles. So many fucking needles. You didn't visit those sterile, frigid laboratories often these days–though you were still required to come in every now and again for a routine 'checkup'.

"No?" König finally breaks through your suddenly hazy headspace–this time said fuzziness wasn't the result of excessive blood loss. You'd rather it were.

"Nie." You repeat again, and there must be something in your voice–something unlike yourself, something a bit too human–because König relents without further question and drops your arm.

"I can't really let you die on us, Maus." He points out with a deadpan stare. Then, probably realizing that phrasing sounded a bit too worried, he adds, "What use would you be to us then?"

"Let me do it."

"You can barely stand up straight and you expect me to hand you a needle?"

"I would rather me than you or some pea-brained white-coat." You huff, narrowing your still very unfocused gaze up at him. You hope it lands, you can't really see clearly right now.

König holds your stare for a few seconds longer before letting out a resigned sigh and looking away. "Fine."

He gives your uninjured shoulder a nudge with a gloved finger and rumbles a low, "Sit down."

You're about to bite back with some witty retort but the words get stuck in your throat when you realize just how close you two are. In your rush to cut off the words spewing from his mouth, you had somehow ended up crowding into his space in a very.. unprofessional way. Chest puffed up in a show of defiance and, subsequently, pressed right up against the other man.

That same, unfamiliar twinge in the furthest recesses of your mind from back in that god-awful storage unit begins to stir and you jolt away sharply. Jumping back and scurrying over to the cot at a faster rate than really necessary, as if that simple touch had burnt you. And, to be frank, it had. Indirectly.

König cocks his head, analyzing you for a brief moment, then shakes it off. Thank fuck. Having quickly averted your gaze, all you hear is some faint rustling and then his legs appear in your line of sight. A small first-aid box materializes from his hand and you lift your own trembling one to take it.

"Thanks." You mumble. You were a monster, not impolite.

König makes a light huff and retreats. Grateful for the, mostly likely unintended, room to breathe, you fumble with the kit before finally managing to wrench the damn thing open. Placing the box beside you on the bed you ungracefully free your first victim from its confines; your thigh.

Stab wound number one, thankfully, has stopped bleeding. On the other, far less favorable, hand, the injury is already a burning, angry red. A light poke at the inflamed skin with your finger has you hissing against the sharp sting.

Deciding keeping up appearances was much less important than your health, you make efficient work of removing both gloves. Also soaked with mud and blood, they would do no more than worsen what was already the beginnings of a very, very serious infection.

There's a bottle of saline solution in the kit and you uncap that first. Folding the bled-through, makeshift bandage in half, you use it to catch the liquid rather than letting the filthy solution drip onto the floor. After flushing out the wound as much as you can–without running the bottle dry, you've still got another to clean–the next step is the worst of them all. Stitches.

If you had it your way, you wouldn't use them at all. You had a tendency to forgo using a needle and thread whenever you could–only stooping to that level when it was absolutely vital. Like right now.

Even then, you only knew one form of sewing; intermittent sutures.

Tearing open a sterile needle packet you, surprisingly enough, make easy work of threading the surgical cotton through the eye of it. Pinching the slice shut with your non-dominant hand, you position the end of the curved metal about a centimeter from where the damn thing starts.

The first pierce of the needle into your tender flesh forces a strained whine from your throat, eyes beginning to water. You blink away the budding tears, exhale a shaky breath, and tie the thread off.

One suture down, an ungodly amount remaining.

Your hand only gets more unsteady as time goes on. Making each stitch more lopsided than the last.

Your vision swims for a brief moment and you swallow back the growing lump in your throat. Come on now, you can do this. You've done this so, so many times before. What was so different this time around?

Just a few more to go. That's all. Then you will be done.. well, then onto the puncture in your shoulder. The shoulder that also happened to be connected to your dominant hand. Great.

"Maus."

You can do this- just stab, push through- wait no, not like that. Pull it out again. Now, do it properly this time-

"Maus." Black gloves invade your sight and you grunt, trying to look around them.

The next time the needle pierces your skin it goes in just short of perfectly–success!–but it's good enough. Will keep your blood in, at least. Then comes tying it off and- come on, don't be difficult now.

Just toss over- like tha- wait, no. Just lift and- fuck.

A low rumble is all you hear and then those gloved fingers are wrapping around your wrist once more and effectively halting your progress. You huff, looking up to glare at him only to find his own hardened gaze staring down at you.

"-keep trying, you are only going to hurt yourself." Wait, had he been talking this whole time? "Then what use would you be then, hm? You would be of no help if you died because of your own damn stubbornness."

You feebly try to tug your hand back, but he doesn't budge, simply using his other hand to pluck the needle from your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you do the only thing you can do; throwing hundreds of imaginary knives at that stupid smug look in his eyes and internally cursing him out.

After your two's little staring contest goes on long enough for your captured hand to start going numb, you relent. Letting out a heavy sigh and dropping your gaze.

König makes a small noise of approval and releases your wrist. You don't watch as he finishes up the mess of stitches sewn into your thigh, nausea returning with a vengeance and forcing you to shut your eyes again.

He finishes up relatively quickly, faster than you probably could have in this state, and rinses the wound again before pasting a bandage over it.

"I need you to look up."

"Hm?" Light pressure under your chin causes your eyelids to flutter back open and you frown.

"Wha-?"

"Up." He reasserts, using his guiding touch to urge your head up and out of the way. Forcing you to straighten out your shrimp-like posture and provide König with access to your injured shoulder.

Said shoulder that was more bruises and blood than it was untouched flesh; able to get a decent look at it now that König had removed the sloppy work that was your mess of torn fabric and duct tape.

He repeats the same steps you had to clean the wound and this time you watch. Less so keeping an eye on the weeping wound and more so on the hand sticking the–new, he had discarded the one used on your thigh–thin metal through your skin. He's surprisingly delicate with it, despite his size he is far more precise with his sutures than you had been. Carefully inserting the needle and tying off every knot with practiced ease. Unlike you, he hadn't foregone his gloves, and that's why you notice it when you do. Having been so attuned to his busy hands.

His gloves are still stained with your blood.

Coated in a thick, dried layer of it. Dark against the already black fabric, flakes of crimson chipping off and drawing your eye.

It was the only part of him that showed any hint of wear from the morning's efforts. Every other inch of his uniform was speck-free, not a single item out of place, scuff mark, or splatter of blood.

It didn't make much sense for you to be fixated on such a minor facet after the laborious events of today. There were so many other things to draw your attention. Like the repeated motions of the curved metal puncturing your skin over and over again, for example. Or maybe his close proximity–accompanied by that weird feeling again.

But, no. Every last bit of your remaining attention span was focused solely on your own blood marking his hands. You sounded insane, even to yourself and that was an entire feat of its own.

You release a small breath of relief when he pulls away, slapping on another thick bandage over your second, freshly stitched injury. Then comes a sudden sting right above your eyebrow and you jolt away with a hiss.

Refocusing back into reality, König is still standing above you. Only this time he's welding an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball, also tarnished with your blood.

"Cut is deep." Is the vague explanation you get, coupled with a small gesture to your face. "No stitches will be needed. But,"

He reaches down to rifle through the first aid kit and makes a soft sound of victory when he finds whatever he's looking for. Holding your face still in one hand, he dabs at the cut a few more times before switching sides and drying it off. König throws the dirtied cotton along with wherever he'd discarded the scraps of your clothes and other miscellaneous trash.

Next comes another burning sting as he presses something over the wound. A few 'something's.

"A few pieces of tape should do the trick." He muses as he smoothes the sterile strips against your skin, the faint metallic scent of your own blood flooding your senses. Gross.

You really needed some sleep, or maybe it was finally time to check yourself into some kind of mental reform. Seriously, this was getting out of hand.

"Now," König pulls away for the final time, doing a brief scan of your exhausted form and nodding to himself. "Sleep."

You half expected König to leave it at that, to exit the room like the other four had. And probably lock the door behind him. Your hopes are crushed when he takes a seat a few feet away from your cot, settling into an uncomfortable-looking chair you hadn't noticed beforehand.

Oh, right. The Captain had assigned him as your personal babysitter. How fucking lovely.

Scooting back to slump against the wall furthest away from the other man, you send him a weak glare. Wanting nothing more than to argue that you can't sleep like this–not with him watching over you like some damn stalker–you find that when you try, you can't.

For what feels like the millionth time today, your eyelids droop until you cannot resist any longer. Falling completely shut and likely not going to open for a while, you give in. Unable to find it in yourself to give a damn right now.

Besides, you could.. moderately trust König wouldn't murder you in your slumber. He hasn't yet. And that seems to be enough for your sleep-deprived brain, as sweet unconsciousness soon drags you under.

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