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himetsuri · 2 years ago

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A Man’s Fight

It was because she believed in him. He would definitely come save her. He would break everything about this horrible situation to pieces. He might be in a bit of trouble now, but he definitely won’t lose. After all, he'd promised her as much–––"I'll never, ever die." That's why she wasn't scared. That's why she was smiling. “Jus’ look at me! Can’t believe I’m…what am I wussin’ out fer!?” Azumi believed that she was only alive due to her mother's sacrifice. There was value in experiencing death firsthand–––without that knowledge, it was difficult for one to truly know the value of life. But she was still young, and so she was scared, terrified of "losing something precious, and it was all her fault.” At this rate, Azumi would, in her fear of getting hurt, become unable to care for something ever again. "Azumiii! Jus’ lie dere a li’l bit longer, ‘cuz I’m comin’ fer ya!” Kagetora tossed aside all his hatred for Kurotaki and fear of being hurt. There was only one feeling driving him now. He wanted to let Azumi know. He wanted to let her know that "in this world, there are things that you don’t have to worry about ever breaking," that if a child like her was to splay her arms and legs out and fall back, someone would be there to catch her.

"Kurotaki! Yous only got five shots left in dat finger gun ya love so much…go ahead an' hit me wit’ all of ‘em!” He spread his arms out wide and egged her on; Kurotaki was, of course, apprehensive. "What…are you…" "I ain’t gonna dodge an’ I ain’t gonna run! I win if I’m still standin’ after takin’ dem all, an’ yous win if I bite da dust…howzzat, piece ‘a cake, right!?" He threw away his broken sunglasses and licked the blood dripping down from his forehead, a daring smile spreading across his face. (What is…he thinking?) Was it a bluff? Or did he have some sort of ulterior motive? Many thoughts swirled around in Kurotaki's mind, but she just couldn't understand what in the world Kagetora was thinking. "What sort of…such foolish…ah!?" She realized that Kagetora’s unfathomable yet intense resolve had caused her to unwittingly take a small step backwards. Kurotaki always wore a smile and an expression of unyielding confidence. It was always oozing with both her delight and just how much she looked down on her opponent. (Afraid…? Me? Of some foolish little punk!?) At some point, she had begun to fear Kagetora, and being forced to recognize this meant her pride took a severe blow. "Very well…I shall take you up on that offer with all I have…please, do not think my ability is a mere pistol knockoff!" When she raised her left hand, holding it level, all five of her fingers from thumb to pinky began emitting light. "Fifth Finger Bombs!!!" Five "Finger Bombs" shot out at the same time–––her Burst had been charged up into bullet-form, a synergy that caused an explosive spike in power that would be able to obliterate a person without a trace. Rrroooooaar!! Kagetora was engulfed in flames from the explosion, the blast whipping up a violent wind. "Ahahahahahahahahahaha!!!" Certain of her victory, Kurotaki burst out laughing, unrestrained. She would always cover her mouth with her hand when she smiled. It was to hide a smile brimming with malicious glee that seemed to reflect her twisted personality. However, there was no need to hide it any longer. That punk had just been blown to smithereens––– "Ahahaha–––eh?" The dust that had been kicked up was slowly starting to clear. And within it stood a man's shadow. “Impossible…such absurdity…” His suit was burned away, his shirt was in tatters, his skin was covered in burns, and he was bleeding from countless areas. But even so, Hyoudou Kagetora was still standing. “’Ey…looks like it's my win, huh…?” Death was something he no longer feared. Pain was something he could endure if he readied himself for it. But the one thing he could never do was betray someone who believed in him. If he did, "he was better off dead."

That fierce resolve granted his body a power that far surpassed Kurotaki's Finger Bomb. "Impossible…this is inconceivable…" Step Kagetora took one step forward. "Eek!" Kurotaki took a step backwards as if she'd been shot. Step Again, Kagetora took a step forward. "S-Stay back…" At this point, Kurotaki couldn’t care less about her pride. She was simply terrified of the man before her, slowly approaching, who resembled some sort of demon. That fear made half her body go rigid; she lost control of her legs and collapsed right where she stood. From this position, Kagetora was coolly staring down at her as he continued to come closer. "A-Aaah…forgive me…I-I lose…” The image of him closing in like the incarnation of strife, after powering through an attack that she put everything into, finally made Kurotaki let out a shriek as loud as she could. Kagetora had won without their fists meeting even once.

“‘Ey, yous okay, Azumi? Nuthin' hurts, right?" “Mm-hm…I’m okay…are you okay, Tora?" He helped her up and untied the rope binding her. "Ha ha ha, I'm good. One ‘er two more scratches means squat ta me by now.” Kagetora laughed heartily at Azumi’s concern for him. "Hey…Tora, what about…what about Kurotaki-san?” "…Aah." Kurotaki had acknowledged her defeat, her spirit broken, fear carved into her being. She was holding her head with both hands, curled up and shivering. Laws didn’t exist in the underside of society. In that world, it was “the law of the jungle,” “kill or be killed.” But that in itself was the reason why there was an implicit law. “Anyone who attempted to kill was fair game to kill”––– Kurotaki had killed four of the Shuueikai's members, at least that Kagetora had witnessed, and would've killed Kagetora himself ten times over if he'd been your average Joe. But above all else, she'd deceived Azumi and made her suffer. "Tora…I’m…I’m okay, see…?" Azumi, however, was looking at Kurotaki with a sad expression, as if she was looking at herself. "Ahh…nn…" The woman had to pay up for what she’d done. But Azumi was a kind girl. She took others' pain as if it was her own. She would never be able to accept using someone as a sacrifice in order to save herself, consider it “inevitable,” even if it was someone wicked. “Guess it would be…a bad lesson fer ya…” And in truth, raising a hand against a woman also left a bad taste in Kagetora’s mouth. Silently, he nodded an "All right" to Azumi. Perhaps a little reassured by this, Azumi went over to Kurotaki and politely lowered her head. "Kurotaki-san…goodbye, and…thank you very much for everything you’ve done for me.” It had been for no other reason than to get everyone to relax their guards, but Kurotaki was the one who took care of Azumi up until this point, ever since Azumi had lost her mother. It was unfortunate that their parting had to be like this, but Azumi tried to convey her gratitude and farewell candidly, even so. "Azumi-chan…" Kurotaki was trembling as she raised her head, her eyes open wide like she'd seen something unbelievable, and touched a hand to her mouth. Beneath it lay that smile filled with cruel joy. "–––!? Azumi! Get away from her!" Kagetora noticed it and shouted right away, but he was just barely too late. "Kyaa!" Kurotaki stood and grabbed Azumi's collar violently, pulled her close and pressed her right thumb to Azumi's head. “Might I have you refrain from moving…Hyoudou-san?" “Cut da bullshit…yous already outta ammo…!" Kurotaki had shot her "Finger Bomb" once to start things off, three consecutive times after that, once more to pierce Kagetora's gut, and then five times simultaneously to make ten shots in all–––she should have nothing left. "Now…Hyoudou-san…what makes you think that?" Upon hearing Kagetora's words, Kurotaki's smile grew even more smug, to the point he could practically hear it. "This is no third-rate novel…surely you do not believe your enemy would just tell you the limitations of her abilities?" A single charge would load all ten fingers on both hands one at a time. However––– "So dat was…another load ‘a bunk…” Kurotaki herself was the one who’d relayed that to him. “Are you aware of the concept of ‘reserves’?* A hunter will purposely leave her last shot unused in case of emergency…an ace in the hole remains concealed until the very end. This, too, is basic strategy.” "Kurotaki-san…why…" Azumi cared for Kurotaki from the bottom of her heart. She’d lost her mother and sunk into grief, and it was Kurotaki who comforted her and became a mother figure to her. “Do you…not like me anymore…? Though she was still young, it wasn't as if she couldn't understand that her grandfather’s “occupation” had something to do with Kurotaki’s deception. Despite this, she just couldn't believe that every smile Kurotaki had aimed at her up until now had been nothing more than fakes. She didn't want to believe it. "You read me picture books…" "Why, yes, you quite liked that picture book with the pig…I read it to you so many times, I now remember it word for word." "You made my…favorite hamburg steak for me…" "Why, yes, and you hated carrots…so I grated them up and mixed them in. You never realized." “You were…I…” The only reason Kurotaki had deceived her was because of that "occupation,” and in actuality Kurotaki cared for her as well–––Azumi was clinging onto that hope. "Azumi-chan…you truly are a kind child…but you are quiiiite the little fool…try thinking, if you would? Even should I survive, the ‘organization’ would not forgive me for failing my objective…and even should I escape them, my reputation has been tarnished; I have no means to live in the underworld…” Her “Finger Bomb" wouldn't work on Kagetora anymore. But it could still blow away the head of a young child like Azumi. Kurotaki was aiming an ability at Azumi that could steal her life in one shot. She was aiming it with a smile at a child who believed in her to the very end. "If you truly do feel so grateful towards me…then allow me to kidnap and take you hostage like a big girl. Honestly…for you not to understand something so simple…what a stupid little brat you are…” There were despicable, irredeemable people in this world. Kagetora had known this, yet he still let his guard down; even if it had only been for the slightest moment, he could not blame himself enough for that foolishness on his part. “Why you sonuva…how da hell d’ya think Azumi feels…" "Yes, that was also part of the plan." "What…was dat!?” Having considered the off-chance that things could go south and leave her in an unpredictable situation with her life in danger, Kurotaki had implemented a “slow-acting poison.” Her year-long infiltration was for the sake of getting everyone to relax around her–––but, at the same time, it was also so Azumi would grow attached to her and therefore “stick up for her” if that time came. "Just how…low can you be…yous irredeemable…” "The irredeemable ones are you and that brat. Would you not agree? To stand by the one who executed her mother…she must be an irredeemable little fool." “Exe…cuted? Bullshit, so yous sayin’ dat ‘er mother died…” "Yes, under the pretense of an accident, you see?" In order for her to make her entrance as a "kind lady" that Azumi could take a liking to, she first needed to eliminate the one preventing that from happening. If a professional was someone who completed their objective, even using others’ hearts and emotions to their advantage to do so, then Kurotaki was undoubtedly an exemplar. "Mama…you killed…my…" Azumi was trembling in a vortex of anger, grief, hatred, and countless other emotions. "My…no…nooo…" The torment from this preposterous fate wasn't something a five-year-old girl could bear, and her heart seemed as if it would burst. "Now, let us cease the small talk! Hyoudou-san? Would you kindly forgo any attempts to resist? Simply relax, do not utilize Rise, and obediently allow me to pierce your heart with my 'Finger Bomb.' If you do…I shall, at the very least, guarantee this child's life♪" "…I'll never…ever forgive you…" “Like I give a fuck about that, you shitty thug! If you regret how this turned out, then curse your own idiocy for not killing me when you had the chance!" He no longer had any means of resisting. Azumi's life was irreplaceable. He had to do as Kurotaki said. "Don't you dare…hurt Azumi…" He relaxed, lowering both arms and closing his eyes to signal his compliance. "Yes, that is perfect." Bang! A bullet of light shot from Kurotaki's thumb.

"God, are you an idiot? You die here and that kid'll be sad forever! You really think that'll count as protecting her!?"

(Eh…?) He thought he was just hearing things. But when he opened his eyes, standing before him like a valiant and noble god of war was none other than Yagumo Matsuri, stopping the bullet of light from coming towards him. "Y-Yous…” "Hmph! What a lame peashooter!" In the blink of an eye, Matsuri effortlessly shattered Kurotaki’s bullet of light. Her "telekinesis" had forcibly canceled Kurotaki's "Finger Bomb.” It was an impossible feat, unless the difference in power between the two was as great as the distance between Heaven and Earth. "Wh-Who the hell are you!? S-Stay back…I've got a hostage–––huh?" Her “Finger Bomb” might’ve been used up, but a run-of-the-mill Psychicer like Kurotaki could still kill a child with her bare hands. But that little girl had disappeared from her grasp. "Is this who you're looking for?" And there, resembling a kitten with the back of her collar in Matsuri's grasp, was Azumi. "Wh-When did you–––!?" It wasn't just Kurotaki. Kagetora and even Azumi joined in. “What’s with the shock? I just snatched her up faster than your brains could process what was happening." In other words, she'd saved Azumi “faster than the eye could see.” "Anyways…so you're Azumi-chan?" Matsuri aimed a bright grin at Azumi, resembling the ladies on children's television shows. "Y-Yes…" "You're a good girl, huh? So kind, honest, and brave! Your big sis here loves kids like you. But…as things stand, a 'cute woman’ is all you’re gonna be.” "Y-You…tell me who you are! Which organization are you–––“ "Shut your trap! We're in the middle of class here!" "Eek!?" Kurotaki, who'd tried to interrupt, was silenced with just one lion-like roar. "Today's lesson is 'how to become a good woman.'" After saying this, Matsuri gave Azumi to Kagetora and slowly approached Kurotaki. “You listening? Now, in this world, there are foolish women who use the fact that they're women to their advantage, use devious means to get what they want, and sneer at people. For some reason, they think this makes them cool. They are, in a sense, the number one 'enemy of women.' You might say that leaving such idiotic women alone is a danger to the world as we know it! And that is when ‘the good woman steps in'!" Kurotaki could feel an aura of pure rage, or maybe something akin to a battle aura, welling up behind Matsuri and the terror broke her spirit. Her legs had already given out on her. "W-Wait! It is my loss! I shall return that child to you, yes? And then I shall never dare to appear before you again! So, please–––" The frantic pleas for her life only added more fuel to the fire of Matsuri's rage. Matsuri had appeared so suddenly out of nowhere for some unfathomable reason and Kurotaki didn’t truly understand the reason why she was so angry. As a fellow woman, Matsuri could never forgive Kurotaki for using a child’s yearning for a mother's love against her; for sneering at Azumi, who'd never forgotten how to be kind despite all the pain she was in, and calling her an "irredeemable little fool.” "Shut your fuckin' trap!!!" It was over in a heartbeat–––Matsuri's slap was enhanced to the utmost by Rise, launched as if to destroy the twisted reality that had spread itself before the young girl in its entirety. "Gwaughh!!!?" Kurotaki let out a foolish sound and flew back, hitting the wall like a pinwheel before peeling off and falling to the ground like a squashed bug moments later. “Make sure to finish things off with some flair, just like that! Just don't forget to hold back some." Kurotaki's arms and legs were twitching. It was undoubtedly an incredible feat, to use such tremendous strength and still hold back enough to not kill. "You got it? Little girl." "Y-Yes!" "All right, good answer!" Azumi's eyes were practically sparkling as she looked at Matsuri. Kagetora was of the opinion that “he just wanted her to grow up healthy and strong, even at the cost of a little mischief.” At the same time, he couldn’t help but think, “Did it really have to go this far?” "God, you're a dumb man. Can’t even launch a shitty woman like that into next week…well, you're still leagues better than the trashy men who hit a woman and then gloat about it." Matsuri drew closer to Kagetora and lightly poked his scarred chest. "Ah…" Kagetora had only exchanged words with her for a little bit, but long enough to tell that she was plenty holier-than-thou–––and now, it felt like she’d just acknowledged him. "Uh, what's wrong? Is there something on my face?" "N-No…I, er…" He'd fallen hard. For her striking and noble eyes. “…I mean. O-Oi…how didja manage ta sneak in here?" There should've been dozens of members, if not more, hanging around the "Dakugoukai's" headquarters. "Haah? 'Sneak in,’ what, are you trying to make me look bad? Do I look like a phantom thief babe to you? I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, for your information. I came in through the front door and walked here like a normal person." “Dat's impossible!" Flustered, Kagetora opened the door of the "Execution Room"–––and his mouth fell open as he found himself dumbfounded. "What…da hell…" What greeted him was a landscape of ruins. Aside from the "Execution Room" that Kagetora and Kurotaki had fought in, everything of the "Dakugoukai's" vast and vaunted estate had been reduced to mountains of rubble. Throughout the rubble, yakuza members lay strewn about, half dead. "Ha–Haha…hahahahaha…" On this day, the extensive criminal group, the "Dakugoukai,” enemy of the Kantou Shuueikai, had been completely wiped out by one self-proclaimed extraordinary pianist babe.

And so, "the organization's" plan of using the "Dakugoukai" as a stepping stone to further expand into Japan ended in failure. The underworld placed a heavy value on reputation. News of their plans being thwarted by only two people was fatal, and therefore it was impossible for them to be any threat to the Shuueikai–––in other words, peaceful days had returned to Azumi as well. And several days later… In a seafood restaurant in a certain port district, Yagumo Matsuri and Hyoudou Kagetora sat with a table between them. “So what’s up, calling me out to a place like this?" Kagetora had wanted to meet Matsuri, no matter what. He tried calling her a number of times, but it was clear she was pointedly ignoring him. With no other choice, he left a message of, “I know a place where y’can drink super rare wine not found easy in Japan.” He received a reply of, “Tell me more” immediately. “Ahh…well��dat’s…” With Matsuri gulping down her drink right before him, Kagetora was uncharacteristically, unusually, and extremely nervous. “Yous been…a big help ta me…” “I told you back then, too, but I didn’t do anything for your sake. It’s too much of a pain to have you feeling like you owe me. Well, I’ll have you foot the bill, though, since you were the one who asked me out here. He~ey, Mr. Waiter! Fetch me a bottle of this wine here with the nice six numbers for the price!”

After everything was over, Kagetora had asked Matsuri while carrying an exhausted and sleeping Azumi on his back. About why she’d come to save him after telling him, “See if I care” and, “Go ahead and die.” And Matsuri had replied to that question with an indifferent expression on her face. “Don’t get any wrong ideas. I really couldn’t care any less for you.” To Matsuri, those who “wasted their lives” were the epitome of idiocy. If people wanted to throw away their lives for some sort of moral code, then she’d let them do as they pleased and look the other way. “If you guys want to get excited over ‘Battles Without Honor and Humanity’ and go out in a blaze of glory, go right ahead. I don’t really care, I won’t stop you…however, this child is unrelated.” As she said this, she gently stroked Azumi’s cheek. “For her to be tossed about in an absurd fate…and then ultimately lose her life…who’d leave that be!?” For a brief moment, Matsuri’s eyes took on a grim shine, as if she was remembering something. “The reason I saved you–––the reason you ended up being saved was because this girl wished for it. Because she was scared out of her wits and still believed in you ’til the very end and I didn’t want to make her sad.” “Mmmnn…” Perhaps in response to the talking, Azumi began mumbling in her sleep. “Mmmnn…good woman…mmmnnmmn…flair…mmmnn…” “Ahahahahaha, reviewing in your dreams? She’s gonna become a fine woman. Kind, clever, strong, and extraordinary.” Azumi’s heart had sustained deep wounds because of Kurotaki. But Matsuri’s words and actions had, without a doubt, taught her “strength” and “fortitude.” In a sense, she had saved Azumi’s life and heart both. “Well…I may have said ‘I couldn’t care less,’ but I can’t deny that seeing you risk your life for a child made me reconsider you a little. You were kiiiiinda cool, just a little bit.” As she spoke, Matsuri smiled softly like a goddess.

“Dere’s somethin’…I gots ta tell ya…” “For the hundredth time, I don’t need your gratitude–––” Fwoosh! Abruptly, Kagetora whipped out the bouquet of roses he’d been hiding underneath the table. “I…I’ve fallen for ya.” “Huh?” “Yer noble, strong, cool…no…er, I mean…I’ve fallen fer everythin’ about ya! I love you…” Days after he and Matsuri had separated, he couldn’t get her face out of his mind. She was all he could think about whether asleep or awake, to the point he started wondering if something was wrong with him. Even just seeing “Sanja Matsuri in Asakusa” in a newspaper headline got his stomach doing flips. And then he realized–––this was love. “…” “…” Matsuri drank from her bottle with a cool expression, while Kagetora stared at her with sweat pouring down his cherry-red face. “U-Um…?” “Ah, excu~use me. I’d like more of this wine! Preferably the whole cask.” “Yer just gonna ignore meeeee!?” Kagetora fell right where he stood, the roses scattering into the air. “Sorry, but I’ve got no interest in guys weaker than me! That’s that, there’s your answer.” “N-No waaaay!”

This––– “Don’t say dat, Sis! Jus’ gimme a chance!” “Who the hell is ‘Sis’!? ‘The hell are you even saying? *kick*” This was the very first of Hyoudou Kagetora’s “Thousands of Proposals.”

~~~~~~ [Notes: *The word used here is 命玉 (inochidama), the definition of which is exactly as Kurotaki goes on to describe: it is a bullet that a hunter has but never uses for the actual hunt, instead saving it in case he needs to protect himself

The ‘Sis (nee-san)’ that Kagetora uses to refer to Matsuri is specifically the one used in the yakuza when referring to a well-respected, high-ranked woman in the yakuza, like the boss’ wife for example]

← Part 2 |

#psyren #hyoudou kagetora #yagumo matsuri

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greenleaf4stuff · 5 months ago

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I found the idea of this pairing interesting so I decided to read - good that I did! Thoughts below the cut to save ppl's dashboards:

love the bit about beren such a sweetheart trying to support the poor elf awww

also Finrod turning towards the light after coming from a place of darkness, further underlining how they have "escaped" the dark so to speak is SO good

the depersonalization/calling Adar an "it" is so heartbreaking, together with how broken he seems and how the elves treat him - right in the feels! (Love the bit about the loyalty of the uruk though, Adar would not hurt them and it's wonderful to see a situation in which they would not like to see him hurt either! <3)

the elves are *so* perceptive and know Finrod so well that they figure out where he is coming from, which is actually heartwarming as it shows the bond they share <3

Poor Finrod is really struggling, it feels like it's not just him being cautious about saying too much, but being *unable* to put his feelings into words

"a slightly malevolent kestrel" ahahaha what a neat mental image XD And I love how the three companions each do their best to give Finrod space while still being protective!

love the hint to Finrod's and Galadriel's close relationship <3

and Finrod questioning himself and his own choices - esp in the light of their escape! It's gotta be such an awful mix of feelings he is experiencing, anguish and fear, grief for his friends and hope for the one he's just found... Poor guy! But I adore that he still clearly, visibly loved and missed his husband, even with how the other has been changed. (And I also love how Adar didn't fight back against him - did he do so because he recognized Finrod?! O.O If so - awww!)

I love the contrast of Finrod considering Adar as "a man" and a "he", there is such clear appreciation in that, and then he calls Adar by his former name awww MY HEART. Even Adar considers himself (at least, his former self) a *thing* ohhhh- T_T

He braided sage-blossoms into his hair brb crying T_T <3 why is that so soft and tender-

Adar protecting his husband by forgetting as much about him as possible/locking his knowledge away OMG stahp my feelings brb crying! He cares sooo much as well!

Awww them searching each other's closeness and being affectionate while crying- and adding onto your tags, I think their reunion and Finrod learning about everything Adar has gone through is going to be a wild ride indeed! It's going to be interesting for Adar to reconcile his two "sides" and whether or not this is possible. Or if it means he might be able to foster a peace between elves and uruk due to his position

heartwrecking piece OP, what an interesting pairing and take on it, thank you for sharing it! <3 <3 <3

Me: knows fuck all about Finrod, or the Silmarillion. Also me: is apparently now over invested in Adar being Finrod's Secret Husband, and has decided that The BoysTM deserve to be happy, so by the power invested in me by boredom at work and some surface level googling.... 1,577 words where Finrod and (some of) his companions escape Sauron's clutches, taking one of the Moriondor hostage on the way. @verecunda, @valar-did-me-wrong

The sounds of pursuit fade away, then at last die all together- and still, what remains of the party ride as hard as they can. Only when there is a river or two between them and Tol-in-Gaurhoth- when even with magic to sustain them the horses begin to flag- does Finrod finally call a proper halt, slipping from the saddle himself and- hands on knees- fight to catch his breath.

Eleven. Eleven had set out- now there were but four. Five, including Beren-so at least, Cedhril supposes, their seven fallen brothers and sisters had not died in vain. Finrod straightens, and turns to meet each of their eyes, accounting for everyone as a slightly manic grin splitting across his face. “I think- I think we might have made it! I still don’t suggest we linger- but a few hours…I think we can spare a few hours.”

Cedhril concurs with her king- if it were possible, she would ride all the way to Lindon without stopping or slowing down once. As it’s not possible, the horses need time to recover…and Cedhril wants, above all things, to wash her hands and her face. She can hear the babbling of a brook or stream nearby. She can also hear retching- a glance to her right reveals Mithron on all fours in the grass, hacking up strings of yellow bile. Beren winces sympathetically- the gaunt, ragged man squats down beside him and is wordlessly offering the young elf a skin of water. Just as wordlessly, Mithron reaches up and takes it. Finrod has his eyes closed, his face turned up towards the streaming sunlight.

Armathedir dismounts his own horse, boots thudding on the ground, then walks to Finrod’s mount. Grasping the dark figure still bent over the horse’s neck, he pulls it roughly to the ground.

Finrod turns. The Moriondor, hands bound behind his back, does nothing to try and break it’s fall- nor does the creature struggle beyond shifting to its’ knees, head still bowed almost to the earth and a curtain of long dark hair masking it’s scarred yet still horribly elvish face. “What do we do with this?” Armathedir demands harshly, setting his boot upon the prisoner’s back.“Slit its’ throat?” his hand goes to the dagger he’d wrested from an orc as they’d fought their way free

“A quick death,” Cedhril agrees. “More than a servant of The Enemy deserves, perhaps, but for the sake of the elf he once was…” and she supposed, in a twisted sort of way, they owed the Moriondor their freedom- when Finrod took their commander hostage the orcs, against all odds and with a peculiar sense of loyalty- had stopped fighting long enough for them to get to the horses and flee. She assumes Finrod hadn’t snapped it’s neck as they made good their escape only in case their pursuers caught up with them and they needed the leverage. So it comes as a shock when he says.

“No, don’t. And get off him, will you?”

“...my Lord.” Armathedir’s acknowledgement of the order is tinged with incredulity, but still he follows, stepping back a few paces. Cedhril’s eyes narrow, trying to assess.

“You think he has information that might help our efforts?” she asks. It makes a certain kind of sense, although a prisoner is likely to both strain their resources and encourage the orcs to keep up their pursuit longer, in an effort to free their commander, than they might otherwise keep it up if they came across the corpse. And the other obstacle- “You think he would share it?”

“There are ways to make him.” Armathedir says darkly, hand still on his weapon.

“He knows him.”

…the glade seems to fall silent at Mithron’s quiet interjection. He’s finished being sick- now he’s kneeling, watching Finrod and the Moriondor hunched at Finrod’s feet intently. (Beren’s also sitting, using Mithron’s shoulder as a cushion- Cedhril thinks the mortal might actually already be asleep.

“...He is called-,” Finrod says at last. “He is- he was…” Finrod exhales, passing his hands over his eyes. Apparently this is difficult for him- more difficult than if they had recovered a mere passing acquaintance. “Let’s just rest,” he says, all joy that the sunlight seemed to have given him vanished before a great weariness. “Leave him to me?” It’s half an order, half a question. “Follow Beren’s example, get some sleep, and I’ll keep watch.”

Armathedir snorts, but removes his hand from the dagger hilt. “For the sake of my nerves, at least tie him to a tree,” he says before sauntering to the nearest tree and pulling himself up. He settles amongst the branches like a slightly malevolent kestrel, folding his arms and closing his eyes as he rests his head back against the trunk. Cedhril hesitates, wavering between her desire to know more, her complete mistrust in the wisdom of letting any creature of Sauron’s live- and the duty she owed to Finrod.”...I’ll keep watch with you,” she says, adding before Finrod can protest: “I’ll take the waterskins and refil them now, in case we need to leave quickly. There may also be nuts or roots which are edible nearby; it is worth looking. So I may be absent, for a while- but I will hear if you call.” I will be far enough gone to give you privacy, but near enough to hand should you need aid. The way Finrod’s eyes brighten a little, the way he nods, tells her he’s understood. And so, leaving Armathedir roosting, and Mithron settling back against the trunk of a tree with the mortal snoring- actually snoring- against his chest- Cedhril slips off into the foliage.

***

Finrod watches Cedhril leave. If they survive this- and it still feels like an if, will continue to feel like an if until they finally reach home- he really ought to introduce her to Galadriel. The dark haired swordswoman and his sister would get along- and they are similar enough that Cedhril’s presence on this mission has often increased his sharp longing for Galadriel’s company and her council…but never more so than now, for as much as he appreciates Cedhril’s tact, what he really wanted right now was his sister’s ability to tell him straight up whether or not he was being an idiot. His prisoner had been nothing but complient since Finrod had seized him, and put a knife to his throat- but before that, he’d been trying to stop the escape- his fighting vicious, brutally efficient

The thing is- even if he is being an idiot. He feels like he’s earned the right to a little selfish idiocy. He’s just confronted- and escaped - Sauron himself. He’s rescued Beren; he’s lost seven friends. No- not lost he’s watched four of his friends be eaten alive in front of him by a fucking werewolf, and another three slaughtered by the orcs as their party made their escape. And yes, the Morionder had been fighting with those orcs- had perhaps even been the one who to slay Tiron: Finrod had glimpsed them fighting, and had not seen Tiron again. Pragmatically, the best Finrod can do with his prisoner is deliver him to Gil-galad to be interrogated, and let the High King dispose of him however he most sees fit. Grieve privately for the fate of the elf he had once known, take solace in the fact that at least he now knew for certain what his fate had been…

But then again.

Finrod had seized him, put a knife to his throat, told him to drop his sword- and been obeyed. When his grip might easily have been broken- or his leg cleaved straight off- he had not been wearing armour, at the time, and his prisoner was.

So maybe– maybe, the Valar have rewarded him for his rescue of Beran with the chance to save someone else as well. Finrod exhales, folds gracefully to one knee and says with all the love and grief and hope and regret that he’s been keeping to himself:

“Gwedhaner.”

The Moriondir hisses. “I am not called that,” he rasps, voice rough with a mix of disuse and thirst. “That is not my name.”

“But it was,” Finrod presses. “Once. Wasn’t it?”

The other man’s shoulders tense. At length, he raises his head and straightens just enough to be considered upright. “...It is forbidden to speak of,” he says quietly. His eyes- those oh so familiar eyes, except that warmth and laughter behind them has all been lost- search Finrod’s face. “I will not name the thing that I was.”

..Alright. Finrod tries a different approach. “Will you name me?” he asks. “Do you know who I am?”

“...You braided sage-blossom in my hair.”

A warm flicker of hope. “Do you know my name?”

I- I do not…I knew your face. And he saw I knew, and so I- I locked your name away, where he could not tear it free, I shut it away and took a hammer to the key-”

He launches himself forward. Before Finrod knows what his happening, the husband he had thought dead is sobbing against his neck, and Finrod can take him in his arms once more, holding him tight, trying to soothe him….

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, tears spiling from his own eyes. He pulls back just far enough to press a firm kiss to Gwedhaner’s head. “I have you, dear one, everything is going to be alright.”

#adar #adar trop #adar the rings of power #finrod #adar x finrod #finrod x adar #fegadar #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fanworks #trop #the rings of power #queue

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mcx7demonbros · 2 years ago

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Last Act of Mercy (Father & The Brothers)

Ft. Father, the Brothers, Michael, Lilith, Raphael

Warning. Angst. Violence. Murder. Suggestive a bit in Asmo’s part. (Please let me know if I miss anything)

Not completely proofread

“Michael!”

The door to Michael room burst opened as a Seraphim rushed inside, panting.

“What is it that makes you so anxious, Samuel?” Michael asked as he poured a cup of water for the Seraphim.

“Father, I don’t see him anywhere.” The Seraphim said after finishing the cup of water. “Today, when I enter Throne Room, I found it empty of His delightful presence. I don’t know where he has gone. What do we do now?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Michael said calmly after he had heard everything.

“What, but-.”

“Samuel, Father is neither a child nor an frail old man. He’s the Creator of Heaven and Earth and all creatures living within them. He’s the Source of the Divine Light that shines on the Celestial Realm perpetually. Wherever he goes, he’ll be fine. A solid proof is that the Celestial Realm hasn’t been devoured by the darkness of nothingness yet.”

“Oh, right. Thank you for your assuring words.”

“Wherever you are, please be hurry and come back to us.” Michael clasped his hands together and prayed, with Samuel joining him.

Meanwhile, at the Devildom…

A man who seemed to be in His 30s, dressed in white from head to toe, and from Him shone a radiant but gentle white light, was walking through the streets of the Devildom. However, none of the demons walking on the street recognized His presence. Otherwise, things would be very complicated.

He looked at all the things the demons were doing, smiling gently at every good act, and sighing like a human at every bad act and sin.

Though The Man soon moved on, the purpose for which He came to the Devildom today was not to observe the daily life of Devildom citizen, but to see how some of His fallen sons were faring, though He knew perfectly the result wouldn’t be positive.

At a big casino in Devildom…

“Ahahaha, the Great Mammon is the winner today.” Mammon laughed at he showed his opponent and others his cards, and the displeasure expression on his opponent’s face was enough to prove Greed’s words.

“No, you didn’t win. You cheated.” The casino staff said as they grabbed Mammon’s arm and a lot of cards fell from his sleeve.

“You cheater!” Mammon’s opponent shouted at him. “Accept defeat and give me the money.”

However, Mammon did not comply with the rule.

“The money in my wallet is mine. In fact, all money, treasures, riches,… all of them are mine, you understand? MINE!” Mammon turned into his demon form, much to the horror of his opponent, the staff and others. “And no one is allowed to touch what I declare is MINE.”

“Y-you are being unreasonable.” His opponent pointed a finger at Mammon, trying so hard to hide his fear.

“Reasonable! I’m a demon, I’m reasonable only when I want to.” Greed grabbed the head of his opponent’s hair with one hand, and the other hand grabbed the hair of the casino staff. Mammon pulled out their hair along with their head skin before killing them mercilessly. That was only the start as he grabbed other demons by the side and murder them too.

Standing by the side, Father shook his head in disapproval but his eyes looked at Mammon with pity.

The Devildom Royal Navy’s HQ…

“That’s all for my report on our ammunition of the past month.” A demon captain declared every word loud and clear while bowing to the Grand Admiral.

“Alright, you’re dismissed.”

Hearing the words, the captain couldn’t be happier as he excused himself from the overly dominant Envy.

After the captain left, Leviathan locked the door. Envy then turned the TV in his office on.

MARIKA-CHAN AND HER SAUSAGE COMPANION, said the title on the screen.

“Thanks Father I was able to finish everything just in time.” Levi mumbled with excitement.

As the opening began to play, Envy got off his seat and began to dance in front of the TV. Only after the opening ended did Levi sit down on the floor, panting and watching peacefully.

The episode of the week was about how Marika-chan and her sausage companion defeated a monster that breathed out poisonous black smoke and rescued a sea snake from its grip.

“Marika-chan is so cool.” Envy got emotional as he wiped the tear at the corner of his eye.

“I wish Marika-chan were real to save me too…*sigh*…but it’s probably better that she isn’t real. No one likes a gross otaku like me.” Before long, Levi fell back into his self-depreciating abyss.

The Admiral didn’t notice The Man in white sitting beside him all along, watching the film with him and also looking at him with fatherly love.

Father entered a restaurant called Hell’s Kitchen before sitting at a table in the corner, from which He could see an orange head demon devouring tons of food.

“Waiter, I want to order more.” Beelzebub demanded.

“I’m sorry, but you have reached the limit of food allowed for gluttonous demons.” The waiter said.

“I don’t care. My hunger is not satiated, I want MORE!”

“B-but-.”

Before the waiter could say another world, Gluttony just grabbed the demon and tossed them inside his mouth and devoured them. To this sight, the demon manager only shook his head and sighed, saying something like “he’s at it again” before dialing for someone who could take on Beelzebub to take him out of the restaurant.

Father was walking on the street leading to the House of Lamentation when He witnessed a violent scene.

“I-i’m so sorry.” A lesser demon kowtowed to a blond demon, asking for forgiveness after having bumped into him and making his clothes dirty with the ice-cream they had held on their hand just a moment before.

“Sorry? If an apology were all that needed for everything to be brushed aside, I wouldn’t be called the Avatar of Wrath.” Satan said, sounding a little rougher at the end, before he kicked the lesser demon in the face, crushing it. With another but stronger kick, Wrath sent the head of the demon flying before taking the body home, mumbling something about “feeding some demon cats” like a mad man.

After dying at a human, Lilith couldn’t find a way to return to the Celestial Realm so she decided to stay with her brothers out of the immense sibling love she bore for them and haunted the House of Lamentation like a ghost with no one realizing.

That day had been a normal day, Lilith was wandering within the House, like she had been doing for the past 3000 years or so. Hearing the footsteps and the sound of dragging a dead body, she knew it was probably Satan coming home. So she looked at the front yard, Satan was a peculiar sibling to her after all.

Yes, there’s Satan and a body and-. Lilith couldn’t believe in her eyes when she saw a Man in white walking behind Wrath. What’s He doing here?

The moment Father stepped inside the House, He felt a little bit nauseated as He could smell the stench of impurity. The stench let Him to a room with flower decoration.

“OUT!” When Father walked through the room, He saw a fighting scene. Clearly, Asmodeus had just finished giving an incubus what he wanted on bed and now Lust was trying to chase him away.

“Please let me stay the night, Lord Asmodeus!” The incubus got down on his knees and begged.

“That’s not possible, Incubia. You know the rule, once I finished the deed with someone, they have to leave immediately. I’m not letting anyone staying overnight.”

“B-but-.”

“Leave now. OR ELSE.” Asmo’s eyes brightened up as he turned into his demon form.

“Ok, I’m leaving.” The incubus took all his belongings and left the room. In the hallway, he met Satan carrying a corpse. He wanted to yelp but he was afraid it would annoy the Avatar of Wrath so he bit his tongue to keep silence and stay out of Wrath’s way.

Inside the room, Lust turned into his full demon form as he took out a mirror and looked inside it. He looked at it for a little bit before his face turned more human. Asmo admired his human face before turning it back to the face of a beast.

Tears began to appear on the fifth born’s eyes.

“No matter how much make-up I try to put on, my true face is that of a beast. No matter how much perfume I put on and how much I bathe, I could still smell the stench of impurity somewhere on my body.” Asmo mumbled to himself while crying silently.

Belphegor was standing on the deck of the Ark of Noah, which was floating amidst water. Around him lied corpses of Noah and his family, the only people God saved during the Great Flood.

“Ahahaha, I did it. I killed all human and ended this cursed race.” Sloth laughed out loud, kicking and mutilating the corpses further more before sitting down on the floor, holding his face, crying. “But no matter what I do, I can’t bring her back…Lilith…Lilith…”

Outside the dream world Belphegor created to partially satisfy his human genocide desire, the seventh-born was crying in his sleep too, acting the same like his dream self, mumbling the name of his sister.

Father reached out His hand and caressed Belphie’s head. Sloth was no longer crying. In his dream, he found himself in a warm meal with his brothers.

Father stopped by Lucifer’s office to find His once favorite son. The eldest was dozing off on his chair, his right hand is holding a document, while on his left hand a pen. However, his face soon became twisted. He was in nightmare, like what happened in most of his sleep after he fell.

Pride dreamt of that day again. The day he rebelled against Father. The day he lost and fell from the heavenly kingdom, holding his sister. The day he had to kneel and kissed the Demon Prince’s hand as he pledged eternal loyalty to him. The day he saw his sister being taken away forever.

However, suddenly, Lucifer felt a warm hand touching his head and the nightmare scene disappeared. The hand was full of love and gentleness. Pride knew the feeling of that hand very well. He felt it the first time when he was created and he had never forgotten that feeling since.

“Father!” Lucifer opened his eyes, looking around but he saw nothing.

It was probably just a dream. Pride told himself. But the warm of the touch was too real to be just a dream. Pride subconsciously touched his head, just right where the hand of his Father had touched him and he could still feel the gentle warmth.

Lilith saw The Man leaving through the door of the House of Lamentation with no one noticing. Lilith knew that the only one who could help her brothers with their sufferings was their Father. Even though she had a great fear for Father ever since the day of her judgement, the love she bore for her brothers overcame it and the last-born summoned all of her courage and ran after Father. With the speed of a ghost, she soon caught up with Father.

“Father!” Lilith cried as she touched the hem of His white garment.

“Father, I know that both I and my brothers have chosen to stand against Thee and don’t deserve to to look at Thy merciful face. But please, I beg of Thee to take pity of my fallen brothers and grant them an act of mercy. I don’t care what happened to me, even if you take me back to Celestial Realm for the ancient sentence to be carried out.” Lilith begged at she kneeled at the feet of God. “Please just make their sufferings more bearable.”

All the Seraphim were puzzled the moment Father came back.

“Is that the Act of Creation?” One Seraphim marveled despite having seen it before.

“Don’t you think you should be silent when Father is performing such an action of supreme goodness.” Raphael said, with Gabriel nodding in agreement beside him.

“A sheep?” This time it was Michael wondering. On Father’s hand was a pink sheep. However, he soon realized the sheep was something symbolic to hide the true identity of the thing Father had just created.

Father then looked down on Earth and began to look at a woman, your mother, who were in intimate moment with her husband/boyfriend. One of them happened to be Lilith’s descendant. After looking at the future and making sure everything would be according to the plan He and Lilith and made, Father sent the sleeping pink sheep down to Earth, into the woman’s womb and the moment of conception began.

“This is My last act of Mercy for them.” Father said as the Seraphim marveled amongst themselves.

Author’s words

I actually have the theory of MC having something to do with Father and I wanted to write this out long ago. Why I have this theory is because sheep is the symbol for God & His People, as depicted many times in the Bible.

#obey me #omswd #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me michael #obey me raphael #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader

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swanimagines · 3 years ago

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FOOLISH MEMORIES | KAZ BREKKER

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about / Stealing your stuff now and then / Nothing you'd miss, but it means the world to me - based on the song Jenny by Studio Killers, requested by @crybabywhatever

Summary: You came back to Ketterdam and met your childhood crush by accident, but he's not the same anymore. Now it's time to talk about what has changed.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Characters: Y/N (no pronouns), Kaz Brekker, Jordie Rietveld (mentioned)

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

A/N: Ahahaha I hyped you up with requesting back in April and then you had to wait for an eternity..... sorry. But thank you for understanding my reasons for why this is so late + I hope a oneshot makes the delay up! I hope you like it 💓

Word count: 1.4k

You would have never believed you'd someday return to Ketterdam.

But oddly, you had missed the city, missed the memories. Even its rainy weather was something you had missed. In Ravka, it didn't rain that often and when it did, the rain didn't bring up the stench of sewers. Of course you hadn't missed that, but it still brought you even more memories.

You just didn't believe that one of those memories would come to you in form of a person.

After seeing him earlier that day, you had recognized him immediately - Kaz, the boy who you had ran across these same streets fifteen years ago. He had changed a lot, but something in him made you recognize him. And now you had moved to talk about it to Kaz's office, not wanting anyone listening in - potentially recognizing the name Rietveld and connect the pieces.

But he had changed. You had learned that he was called Kaz Brekker now. Dirtyhands. Being feared across Ketterdam, someone parents would scare their children with to prevent then from wandering too far. Everything Kaz Rietveld hadn't been.

"I've done bad things you don't even know about," Kaz mumbled, staring at the document in front of him. "I'm not that little boy who told you that he'd marry you one day anymore." He looked up and met your eyes for a moment before looking away again. "You're better off without me."

You shook your head, sighing. "I don't believe that. You can't change that much, your heart doesn't change even if you tried to change it."

Kaz turned his gaze back to his desk. "I wish I could say the same thing." He picked up the pen and dipped it into the inkwell, making some notes on his paper. "But I can't."

Silence ensued, you didn't really know what to say to him. He leaned back in his chair after finishing with writing those few short sentences, turning his head to stare out the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the city.

"How many years it has been?" Kaz suddenly asked, turning his gaze back to the table, and you thought for a moment.

"About fifteen years, I think." you said. "Why do you ask?"

Kaz stared at the paper in front of him. "Because when we last met, we were innocent, just children. And now..."

"I'm grown up, and so are you," you interrupted. "I'm twenty-five, Kaz. It's been fifteen years since then."

He nodded slowly. "And you've done well with yourself."

You took in a sigh. "Yeah."

Meeting him again after all these years wasn't going as you had thought it would go. Kaz told the truth when he said that he wasn't that boy anymore, who you had missed during all these years living in Ravka. He had changed a lot, he wasn't innocent anymore, nor he was scared. He was the man people were scared of now.

It felt strange to be sitting here, talking to him, knowing that he was that boy you had played with as a child, now turned into someone children like you had been would be scared of, but still feeling safe.

"I want to ask you something," you began.

"Go on," Kaz replied, leaning forward in his chair.

You swallowed. "What happened to you?"

Kaz's jaw immediately clenched, and you knew you had jabbed the wrong place. "Nothing that concerns you," he said curtly.

You sighed and stared out the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. "I'm sorry. I was just curious," you said quietly. "About how you ended up like this."

"It doesn't concern you," Kaz repeated.

"Okay," you nodded, laying your gaze to your feet, falling silent again.

Kaz started to write to his papers again, and you just sat there in silence, looking at your former best friend working. Would you ever be friends again? Was he even someone you could be friends with?

You frowned at the thought. You wouldn't have believed you'd ever have to ask yourself that question - you had thought that if you ever met Kaz again, he'd smile widely and wrap his arms tightly around you, you'd laugh and tell each other what you had been up to all these years, maybe go to get something small to eat and take Jordie along.

Never had it crossed your mind that he'd be like this if you would meet again - secluded, cold, calculating, and on top of all, extremely feared around Ketterdam and nobody wanted to mess with him. Killing people was his normal task. You didn't recognize the person you once knew in him, but at the same time, you did, in some deranged way.

It was confusing, to say at least. But maybe with time, your relationship would warm up again, maybe you could be friends again? It was wishful thinking, maybe even foolish, but you couldn't help it. You missed him, even if he wasn't that boy you missed anymore.

"I'm intending to stay in Ketterdam, at least for a while," you muttered and Kaz nodded. "If you have any jobs for me... like run errands or cook or serving drinks, I might be up to do them."

Kaz frowned, but didn't look up from his papers. "Didn't take you to be fond of criminal lifestyle."

"This is Ketterdam, Kaz, I'm not a fool. I know that in order to be as safe as possible here, you have to work for something or someone who's feared," you stated, feeling odd to speak with Kaz like it was strictly business. Like you didn't know each other.

And Kaz didn't like your tone either, you had switched it from earlier. From warm and confused to strictly professional. But he did need someone to take care of the bar at the Crow Club - their current barista was about to have a baby in a couple of months and he didn't have anyone to replace her yet.

So he nodded, offering you a handshake. "The bar at the club will need a new host in about a month. Will you take that job?"

You nodded, shaking Kaz's hand, but you noticed that he pulled his hand away hurriedly, with a flinch, like something had stung him. You frowned, but Kaz seemed to jump over the subject.

"You will at the start of next month, then. Our current barista will surely guide you before you'll replace her. I'll arrange a room for you at the Slat," he said, waving his hand and sending you off.

You slowly rose up from your chair, making your way to the door. And while you didn't look, Kaz lifted his gaze to look at you exit his office, a long lost warm feeling passing by his heart - maybe some day, you'd find your friendship again. Maybe it wasn't too late yet... maybe you'd be the one who would pull him out from the waters for good.

He knew it was foolish thinking, but that little, innocent boy, he had had a huge crush on you and really believed that he's going to marry you one day, that nothing could come in between you. It had been so innocent and naive. And then, you moved to Ravka with your parents and he lost Jordie, and became someone Kaz Rietveld and his friend Y/N would have been terrified of - probably Jordie would be terrified too had he survived and appeared to his club. He shivered at the thought.

But you weren't Jordie - even though you had been a bit shaken at first, you then understood that the life at the Barrel had made its job and changed that boy you once knew. A boy without anyone who could care less about him, he had to harden himself up if he wanted to survive. To become someone who was respected, and the way to respect at the Barrel wasn't a pretty way, it was ruthless. Everyone knew that. He would have died without turning out to be like that, because the Barrel has pity for no one, not even children.

You had grown up, but you still had that bright spark in your eyes you already had at ten years old - where he wasn't the same, he had become something much more worse, but still... maybe even Kaz Brekker could befriend Kaz Rietveld's childhood best friend.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #sab #sab imagine #sab x reader #my works #imagine #gn reader #oneshot #kaz brekker oneshot #reader insert

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wackus-bonkus-maximus · 2 years ago

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Wackus this is feligami analysis anon here, fear not I am well and I am THRIVING!! 😭😭😭 feel like it’s been a whole lifetime. Who knew that ml s5 writers could see the beauty in feligami after all?! Who knew we would be blessed with SO MUCH CONTENT. (Tbh I have kept up with all spoilers and did send you a few more anon messages gushing over feligami now and then lol 😂😂😂 but I didn’t sign each one like this maybe I should tbh.) (Also dying over canon Felix actually moving the signpost of his morals and snapping his sentisister for his loved ones 😭😭😭)

ahahaha good to know you've been in my orbit anon 💖💖💖💖 thank you because being stupid over feligami is so much more fun with someone to be stupid over them with 🥰

and yes omg i loved that moment for Félix! not just recognizing the right thing to do, but actually doing it and then trying to make up for his mistake! 🥺 the show blessed us and i will never be normal about it EVER

#keep in touch anon 💕#come at me with feligami whenever #i am always in a cringe fail worm and dragon girl mood #felix graham de vanily #felix fathom #kagami tsurugi #feligami #ml emotion #ml pretention #emotion spoilers #pretention spoilers

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disasterbijamietartt · 2 years ago

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Spoilers for 3x9 ahead, not tagged, since this is more personal …

I think I react so strongly to the scene with everyone assuming Jamie is gay, because it triggered some past trauma.

Since being recognized as queer by your straight peers was like the worst case scenario growing up in a rural small village in the 90s.

The constant fear of being clocked in a space I know is safe for cishet people—but where I don’t know if it is safe for queer people (Or even have reason to fear it might not be). A space I can’t easily leave behind. The fear of being found out and losing all social standing and being ostracized by my friends group.

It is easy to see the whole thing as funny from the outside knowing the himbos are good people and that they would never actually be blatantly homophobic.

But they are still a group of straight guys stereotyping what a gay guy looks or acts like. And we’ve seen casually homophobia in the locker room. We’ve heard Colin, who knows those guys for years, saying that he wasn’t 100% sure they would accept him. That there still was the fear that however great people they are, they might reject him.

And in this context it felt like a thoughtless 80s/90s sitcom jokes a la “there is someone gay in this room! *everyone looks at the well groomed, slightly flamboyant guy* Gotcha, that one is straight. It is actually average joe over here! Ahahaha!”

So, if their “Gotcha” is, “He is actually bi!”, I can forgive them for this. Otherwise, idk, maybe once I’ve calmed down enough.

But I’ll be off tumblr till I feel better, since everyone being so happy and thrilled about this scene in particular just upsets me too much.

#i should tag this with spoilers but don't want it to go into any tag

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star-anise · 4 years ago

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Thank you for your reply. My ask was kind of all over the place. (I've done some dbt before with a previous therapist and it helped! But that therapist was not a good fit I'm at a new one now tho).

Random thing, you mentioned bpd I heard in my abnormal psychology class that a lot of therapists won't treat someone diagnosed with bpd??? It was the teacher who is a grad student studying to be a therapist who said it. And like. I don't understand. They sound like a very in need population who was often abused and there's a whole huge book of treatment resources written by someone with bpd. I've heard they're "hard to treat" and talked about like they're hopeless. but like why be a mental health professional if you don't like mentally ill/different people?

This is also the same professor who insisted trauma is only the few things listed under dsm ptsd definition as traumatic events.. like she said parents getting divorced isn't a traumatic event because you aren't physically in danger... that class really scared me about the mental health field because of all the awful people in it aspiring to be therapists including the teacher.

Sorry for all the asks I love the work you do on this blog

Ahahaha, what IS it about undergrad abnormal psych professors? Mine said he wouldn't touch clinical practice with a ten-foot pole, and told a story about how once a student told him she had schizophrenia, and he knew that she was lying because obviously nobody with schizophrenia could actually manage to attend university.

(It's seriously untrue. I've had both friends and clients with psychotic disorders who succeeded in university. He was being an ableist bastard. Like, I know psych students can tend to over-identify with a disorder they're studying without actually having it, but that doesn't mean no psych student is ever entirely correct about their deal.)

Okay so, BPD. The thing about BPD is that it requires a special skillset that does not come standard in most clinical training. If a therapist who doesn't have that skillset tries to treat someone with BPD, the therapy will not be very effective and the process will be very frustrating for both them and their client. To be very frank, it's just as true that ordinary therapists are bad at treating BPD and don't like feeling stupid, as it is that people with BPD are hard to treat.

(And training to deal with people with BPD clinically is often not included in grad school education. DBT training is expensive and they won't accept you unless you have an adequate clinical placement.)

Also, part of dealing with BPD in particular is... people with BPD often have trouble seeing authority figures with anything more nuanced than "adoration and compliance" or "fear and loathing". As a therapist, you're signing up as an authority figure. Part of the work means letting your client express all their feelings about you, and helping them work to something more nuanced and sustainable, like, "I am furious and enraged that I'm in pain and I wish my therapist could take that pain away, but I realize that's not within her power. I have to admit that she's not being an evil villain here, so I can feel my resentment but let it go."

Which can be stressful to deal with, as a therapist. You have to live with a lot of hurt and anger and rage headed your way, and keep your perspective. Be empathetic without getting carried away in those emotions. You have to be able to face that pain and say, "I can't take that away. I can only help you learn to bear it."

Basically everyone I know in grad school had a nervous breakdown somewhere along the line because we go to therapist school because we're smart and capable and feel good about helping people, so when we encounter a person we can't help, or are put in situations where we have to stop helping, we tend to have existential crises and end up sobbing in the student lounge about What Am I Even Good For Now. I was lucky because I had a version of that breakdown before I entered grad school, and my therapist warned me to get a new shrink when I moved for my Master's, "Because if you don't need one at the beginning, you'll definitely need one by the end." So I was more equipped to help classmates for whom this was a wholly new experience.

In my opinion, the healthy way to approach the problem of A Person You're Not Good At Helping is to practice humility, set reasonable boundaries, recognize the limits of your competence, and see where you can learn and grow. But many therapists and helping professionals use what I consider to be an unhealthy approach, labelling such clients as "defensive" and "resistant" and "hard to treat" and blaming them for the difficulty.

Which like, I get that "practicing humility" is like "doing exercise", sometimes you're tired and cranky and don't want to go for a run. Sometimes you just want to blame the other person for not accepting your magnanimous help.

Anyway, within the field of mental health psychotherapy, complex trauma is a unique sub-speciality that many therapists don't want to touch at all. I had many classmates say, "Woof, you're into complex trauma? You must be so tough, I could never." 🙄

(Technically I have the ethical obligation to represent my profession in the best possible light to encourage public confidence in the field of psychotherapy. But I think it's not undermining the profession to admit what everyone already knows, which is that some therapists are oblivious assholes who do bad work. I've seen it, I've met them, I want them to piss off forever. Jordan Peterson is a blight to our names and Phil McGraw can go choke.)

So people who are on your wavelength about BPD and trauma and What Therapists Are For are out there. They're just a little rarer than the usual run of therapists. For what it's worth, I've found they cluster more in areas like complex trauma, DBT, Narrative Therapy, and the Hearing Voices Movement. Next year (knock on wood) I'l be going to a conference on the treatment of complex trauma with a friend, and this sounds weird given that it's a weekend all about child maltreatment, but I expect it to be a blast, because I'll get to be among My People, talking about the work that fills our souls.

I really wish that as an undergrad, I'd spent more time hanging out with Social Work students, and going to conferences and trainings. Those are where I met some of the coolest people I really clicked with. And in grad school, I had the extreme pleasure of meeting other people who were a lot like me. Those friendships were especially rewarding because as skilled helpers, we ended up playing a game of Needs Chicken, where each tries hide their own needs and caretake for the other, which finally ended up in a standoff where we had to agree to put down our caretaking skills and just be honest about what we wanted, even if that felt new and scary and raw.

(Support me: Patreon and Paypal.)

#therapisting #advice about therapisting #borderline personality disorder #ableism tw #long post

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aneenasevla · 3 years ago

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Devil's Food - Chapter 4

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile/Previous

Chapter 4 - Concerning Rumors

Even though she had a restless sleep, and was woken up twice by the cell phone alarm, she didn't wake up in a bad mood the next day, not even when Fusui appeared and gently shook her while she was lying down.

“Good morning” she smiled from ear to ear “did you sleep well?”

“Hmmm… I think so” she opens her eyes, yawns.

“That's great! Come on, it's time to wake up!” she pulls the other's sheets and Ayami lets out a yelp “come on, I'm on vacation and I want to take the opportunity to show you the house!”

Still groaning, she sits up, hair mussed and still looking sleepy, stretching, massaging her face. Fusui laughs.

“You take time to wake up, huh?”

‘No... I wanted to sleep more this time” Ayami gets up, adjusting her sleep dress “as I said, yesterday was a mess.”

It had even taken a while to sink in that she was now in some sort of hideout full of Kures, and honestly, part of her didn't want to get out of bed and sleep for eternity, another part feared for her life, so the two of them agreed to stay.

“It's understandable” the assassin smiled tenderly “come on, I'll help you get ready, you don't need much, just some casual clothes, breakfast is already on the dining hall.”

“You are all early risers, apparently…”

“Well, just the ones that don't go around or the ones that are currently unoccupied. What is the majority, so it is.”

“Hnm…” she then remembered yesterday and remembered that she was a Candidate there, so she had to show good impression “so, I'll organize myself. I don't know anything about you, so I believe this invitation is irrefutable.”

“Yes, I'll wait here” Fusui watches her going to the bathroom. When she was out of sight, she surveyed her room. The suitcase was open, but her belongings were still stowed on the table, and yesterday's clothes, she recognized, were neatly arranged. She wondered if the girl had some sort of neat quirk or if it was just the fact that she was tidy, or even good manners that she still considered herself a guest here. Either way, it was good, but something told her she might be uncomfortable. What was normal, few outsiders saw the Kure at home and were comfortable with their presence.

But it got worse when she remembered who the girl was committed to, even more so when this guy was none other than her brother. The girl was both curious and distressed by Miss Yamagami, so she took it upon herself to make her at least like the clan, with all its quirks.

She waited for the girl to get dressed and come out of the bathroom.

“I had noticed before” Fusui says “but I'm kind of watching better now, you're kind of chubby, right?”

“Ah…” Ayami blushes, hiding behind the screen to change clothes “Y-yes… I used to play sports but now that I got busy with work, I can't reduce this silhouette.”

“I have nothing against that, I already said, I think you're cute” she shrugs “people who have this crazy training since childhood so it's hard to have a fatter Kure, but you should see one of my uncles, he's practically an ox, ahahaha…”

Suddenly Ayami felt self-conscious. Not that she minded much, but still, if that was a problem…

“I imagine he doesn't mind being called that, right?” she asks cautiously.

“No, he's nicknamed ‘the devil ox’, so he's proud of it.”

“So I guess I don't need to worry, huh?”

“No, not at all” Fusui smiles “as long as you show yourself strong, then no one will say a peep about you.”

“Oh, right” she comes out of the screen in a blue dress shirt and a pair of gray leggings, and leaves her used clothes folded on top of the others “I'm ready.”

“Let's go then!” Fusui stands up, and holds her hand, almost dragging her out in excitement.

…

Ayami had to admit, the place was huge.

And it wasn't just a mansion as she suspected, it was several and several houses and housing projects, a real village hidden in a forest, between mountains and thick walls.

She had actually been surprised at the treatment though, when she thought she could have been thrown in a prison cell on bread and water, when in fact she had been placed in a rather luxurious room by her standards. And from what she had understood, despite having a luxury, the house she was still in was not the main one, but a smaller one, where there were other branches of the family.

And of course, unsurprisingly, a lot of them, practically one in three people she counted, had dark sclera like her guide (and possibly sister-in-law) had. It made her feel a little better. The cafeteria in the central part of one of the complexes, where Fusui and several others gathered, was already practically full. Several long traditional low tables with cushions for people to sit on. They were given bowls of rice and natto from the serving girls, and soon went to sit down.

They ate in silence, but Ayami felt that she was noticed. She saw several dark eyes in her direction, and a few whispers, but couldn't make out what they were. A young man approached, and stopped on the opposite side with a platter as well.

“Hello ladies, can I sit here?” He smiled. He wore a bandana on his head, and he also had black hair.

“Ohh, Henzo! Take a seat” she indicates the space “this is Yamagami Ayami, our new guest…”

“Ahhh, the Yamagami girl that Hollis and Reichii brought yesterday” he smiles, nodding slightly “pleasure. I'm Kure Henzo. Are you here on business or visiting, miss?”

“She's the first Candidate” Fusui smiles, and Henzo's eyes widen, two silver dots in the middle of the black background.

“Ohhh” he winks, and then lowers his head “I'm sorry for that…”

Ayami raises an eyebrow “uh, why…?”

“Ahh, nothing, Ayami, right?” She glares at the other and he smiles awkwardly. If she heard the guy's worst side before she even met him, she'd be a bad prejudice, so less chance of her being interested. And that was not in Fusui's interests.

“Oh, no, nothing, I just don't like her brother” Henzo corrects himself “actually, many people here, but it's... it's nothing…”

“It's just that my brother is the strongest of us, and that generates envy, right?” Fusui shoots the guy with his gaze again, and the boy turns his head.

“I wouldn't say envy, but it's more of a common irritation…” he grumbles.

“I see” Ayami nods “I think he's also the arrogant type, to have people who don't like him in his own family…”

“Ah… yeah, you can see that, right…” Fusui blushes.

“But if that's the case, I don't think you think so often about the consequences of his actions either.” seeing that the two were interested in what she said, she continues “Because a man who gets into trouble in his own family is nothing more than a fool, getting knives waiting to be stabbed in his back.”

“She speaks beautifully, doesn’t she?” Henzo observes. Fusui nods.

“Wow, you’re pretty, cute, smart, have a voice as sweet as your eyes… look, if Raian doesn't want you, I do!” she comments, looking at Ayami.

And for the first time since she had left the firm, at home, Ayami smiled.

“Hahah, I unfortunately don't have this relationship preference, and even if I did, I'm not available either, miss. Apparently not for a while… I'll be busy taking care of private matters.”

“What subjects? Ah, if you want to tell…” Henzo smiles.

“Oh, it's just that I intend to continue my father's business until my younger brother takes over, if he prefers. And I also intend to do my work as a lawyer, I just passed the last exams to exercise the position.”

“Ah, you're a lawyer, that's why you speak so beautifully” Henzo nods, starting to eat “So polite, you know…?”

“Not every lawyer speaks well” Ayami blushes, while eating “but I do like to express my ideas clearly.”

“And it's really a good thing” Fusui nods “I want to see how it goes in a little while. My brother's got a mission next week, so he won't be here, but that's great, because then we can have some fun.”

“And… I’m afraid of what you guys do for fun here…”

“Ah, normal things, like everyone” Henzo shrugs “the only difference is that we also add things like intensive workout, fighting training and also firearms.”

“The latter ones are definitely not my choice of entertainment” Ayami gives a negative sign with her whole hand “although I have practiced Kenjutsu in the past…”

“Oh, so you're a swordsman?” Fusui is interested “well, it makes sense, his family is swordsmen, it's tradition.”

“Yes, it is, but it's not my preference, so I dropped out of high school. I prefer to focus on my career. My brother Akito is better at Kenjutsu than I am, and he thinks about going to college on a sports scholarship. But we have had enough talking about me, please tell me how I can be useful while I'm not busy.”

The conversation in the cafeteria was pleasant. Fusui introduced Ayami to others of the Kure who lived in the area, and more and more times she saw them smile, but without exception, they all gave her rueful looks when they told her what she was to the clan, as if she was being promised to some kind of monster. Gradually she began to wonder why. Of course, she wasn't an idiot, she knew the guy was probably prominent and well known in the clan, but none of the smiles directed at her looked happy. Either he was too good to be envied, or he was extremely arrogant.

She knew she shouldn't stick to opinions before she met him, but one thing she always learned from her mother, God rest her soul, was that the family was the first thing that denoted who a person was.

Was he really that bad?

…

Ayami also knew that if this guy was really bad as they said, she would need support, so during the week she decided to look for things to do nearby to help, and also research what would be interesting for someone like her to do, only Fusui insisted. to ask her out.

“Ayamiiii!” she arrived with a basket “let's get some fruit! It's a beautiful summer day, we can go bathing in the lake!”

“Oh, I” she points to some ladies who were hanging clothes “I was going to help them…”

“Don't worry miss” the older woman said “young people have to have fun, and it's a really beautiful summer day. Leave the service to us…”

“All… all right,” she sighs, “but if you need more hands…”

“We will call all the rest of the clan, dear, you are still our guest, you don't have to worry. Go play with the other kids.”

She blushed at being called a child, but there was nothing she could do “Yes ma'am” and bowed slightly, turning to her ‘future sister-in-law’ next her “pick fruit, did you say?”

“Yea! It's something me and some cousins do every now and then in the summer. You can meet them too.”

“Could be.” She goes with the assassin, deciding to carry the basket just to have something to do with her hands.

“So, are you having fun staying here?” Fusui comments, halfway.

“Well, if I said no, I'd be lying” Ayami nods. The truth is, she was enjoying the little vacation, but she couldn't quite relax, both because of not knowing what was going to happen, and because of the real reason for being there. It had been five days now, and not even a cell phone message, or a call, or any news from her father and brother. And she also felt a little homesick.

The thought made her stop walking, her heart sank again, and she shivered. Would I ever see them again?

“Hey… oh girl, what happened?” Fusui sees that she had stayed behind, with her head down “are you worried about something?”

“I'm… I mean, I'm fine, but I think I'll follow you more, and walk. I don't think I'm up for swimming” she tries to say. Then she straightens up, taking a little deep breath, and looks at the other”Would you… Fusui… would you judge me if I was a little scared?”

“Scared?”

“Yeah… it's normal to be nervous, right? I still don't know him.”

“Ah yes, it is…” the assassin sighs “of course it's normal, honestly I can't even think about judging you. But you know how people exaggerates everything. It's not like you're going to die, or be tortured in interrogation…”

“Don't try to sugarcoat it” Ayami makes a little grimace “I know that this Candidate, even though he's your brother, is a rather unpleasant person. I know that I'm here to…” She breaks off. I wasn't there to suffer, I was there to keep a guarantee that the business between the families would go well, that's all... there wouldn't need to be torture in the process “anyway, you don't have to say anything, I'll see with my own eyes, and I'll see what happens.”

“Okay” Fusui shrugs “but at least you're warned, and we also want to show support... but well, we're used to morbid things, so when we see someone from the outside who looks as delicate as you…”

"Hey, I'm not that delicate…”

“Said the girl who doesn't have a wrinkled garment fold or a hair out of place. Even your room is cleaner than mine, are you sure?”

“Yes” Ayami crosses her arms.

“Well then, prove it!”

“Give me a Katana and I'll show you.”

“Oh, damn, I don't have one…” Fusui pouts.

“Yeah, I would love to play Fruit Ninja with you, but by the way…” she shrugs.

“One day I'll get one and then we'll play!”

“And you took it seriously?”

“Of course, it's cool as hell”

“You are crazy,” Ayami laughs. She even had some skill, but doubted she could actually slice fruit in midair with a Katana. In fact, she was out of practice, but at least the subject served to liven up the conversation “okay, since we don't have the sword, let's go get these blessed fruits. One can't play Fruit Ninja without fruit, right?”

“No, we can't,” Fusui laughs, returning to accompany her new friend. “I bet they'll love meeting you, Ayami. They're pretty nice when they're not killing someone.”

“Yea, I guess so…”

Next Chapter Here

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #heavybakery #kengan oc #fanfiction #raian kure #kure raian #kure fusui #kure henzo

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remmushound · 4 years ago

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@brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 Part 3 of my bay/rise crossover.

Leonardo didn't know where he was, and frankly he wasn’t sure he cared. He was more concerned about not knowing where April and Splinter and Donatello and Raphael were. His brothers— his family! He had reached out to them, felt his fingers brush against Splinters, and then they were being pulled apart again. Pulled away from each other. Then Leonardo was flying out of the rift, clinging with all his might to the only one he had managed to protect. Michelangelo. He landed hard, skipping across metal with solid thuds like a rock on water as he clung to the box turtle’s shell, his baby brother still hiding within. The bouncing eventually turned into a slide that brought Leonardo to crash against a wall. Pain shot through his extremities, but it only made him hold on to Michelangelo even tighter.

The minute they stopped, Michelangelo popped out his shell with a sharp yipe, his arms shooting out and wrapping around Leonardo to cling to him like a security blanket. Leonardo couldn’t help but smile and rubbed the younger mutants head in a comforting motion.

“It’s okay, hermano. Just a little bit of a bumpy ride.”

Michelangelo whimpered and his nose went back into his shell.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that!”

Michelangelo pulled his arms and legs back in as well.

“Awww, come on~” Leonardo pushed himself away from the wall to lean over Michelangelo and peek into the shell as his shadowed face. “You know you wanna come out!”

“Where is out?” Michelangelo asked, his voice carrying a strange echo.

“Er…” Leonardo looked around. He didn't recognize the place, a giant metal ball with a spiraling floor design and a high ceiling, a blinking light at the top of it. He hummed and narrowed his eyes at the luring draw of the light, but didn't acknowledge it Past that. “Pokeball?”

“What? No we’re not!”

“Well how you gonna know if you don’t come out?”

Leonardo smirked and leaned back to give Michelangelo enough space to emerge. Michelangelo peeked his nose out once more.

“That’s it! Just a little more!” Leonardo encouraged.

Michelangelo’s full head poked out, and his neck too so he could look around at their surroundings. “Woah. This is so cool!”

“Cool isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” Leonardo whistled and stood up, reaching for his sword naturally. It was nowhere on his body.

“Hey uh— you don’t happen to have your yoyo, do you Miguel?”

“Um…” Michelangelo reached to his belt and frowned. “No. It’s gone somewhere… do you have your swords?”

“No.”

The structure gave a powerful groan and Michelangelo yelped, attaching himself to Leonardo’s side like glue. “It’s spooky here…”

Leonardo would be lying if he said that a similar anxiety hadn’t grown in his gut the moment they entered this strange place. Cold, dark, mechanical— everything Donatello loved, except without the eccentric nature. But he couldn’t be scared now. He has Michelangelo to look after, and right now his baby brother needed him.

“Hey hey hey, don’t get soft on me now!” Leonardo beamed, leaning down to Michelangelo’s level. “We just escaped the mother-freaking Shredder and you’re scared of a dingy little metal ball?”

“It’s not very little, Leo…”

Leonardo scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. “Potato potahto! Tomato tomatoh! Shredder, Giant Metal Ball of Doom! What’s the difference?”

Michelangelo didn't answer.

“The only one I can think of is that Shredder was waaaay scarier!”

“Oh really?”

Both turtles froze at the new voice. Leonardo gently placed his brother down, keeping an arm still wrapped around him to keep them both close.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” The new voice laughed in a mocking, wheezing tone, “Turn around.”

Leonardo could see no other option other than to obey. He gave Michelangelo a reassuring pat and held his brother just a little tighter before turning to face whoever it was that had called out to them.

The creature was big, a body near as broad as Raphael’s carapace and a shape that was loosely spherical. It’s entire body gleamed with a layer of slime that oozed out from folds on the sides of it’s head, and every so often a tentacle would reach up to gather the accumulating mucus and spread it throughout its body to keep itself moist. There was a crown on its head, a ridge higher than the rest of its body that slightly resembled the crown of certain dinosaurs. Leonardo could almost swear that whatever it was, was the brain of some massive creature, escaped from its body to do whatever it is that giant, tentacle-having brains do.

“Well?” The creature stroked feelers on it’s face, what could pass as lips parting to reveal tiny, dolphin-like teeth.

Leonardo only allowed himself enough time to blink before he forced his smile to come back and meet the strangers smirk. “Well what?”

The creature lunged forward, supported by pipes that extended out from the misproportioned battle suit, bringing it within inches of touching Leonardo. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Scared of what? A chewed up wad of bubble gum that gained sentience?”

It growled and one of its tentacles came down upon Leonardo, covering him in the thick, viscous coating of it’s body.

“Oh I’m sorry! Did I get some slime on you?”

Leonardo didn't flinch. He reached out a hand and poked the creature on the nose. “It is not slime, it is mucus!”

It growled and swatted Leonardo before pulling back again closer to its suit. “Who said you could touch me with your foul, disease-ridden hands?!”

“Hey hey hey!” Leonardo threw his hands up in surrender, “I bathe regularly! It’s Raphael you gotta look out for.”

“You think you’re funny, do you?” It squinted its eye at Leonardo.

“I think I’m adorable. Don’t you?” Leonardo put his hands under his chin and batted his eyes.

“I think you’re an obnoxious freak of nature.” It tried to draw forth a violent reaction, but Leonardo remained cool.

“Eh, aren’t we all?” Leonardo shrugged, “But this obnoxious freak of nature has a name. Do you?”

The creature seemed to consider Leonardo’s question for a moment before saying, “It’s Krang.”

Leonardo snickered.

“What?” Krang snapped, almost defensively, “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry— sorry!” Leonardo almost keeled over laughing.

“What’s so funny— what’s so funny, it’s just my name!”

“It’s just— ahahaha— did your mom hate you or something?”

Michelangelo started to finally get in on the laughing, and soon both brothers were almost falling over.

“I chose my own name— the Queen doesn’t have time to name all of us!” Krang defended, grunting as its features scrunched up.

“So you’re saying you have a face not even a mother could love?” Leonardo smirked, recovering from his laughter at will. “Man, that is depressing!”

“ENOUGH!” Krang shot two wired pipes forward to grab Michelangelo and Leonardo, squeezing them harshly. “Now you listen here, little turtles! I am not in the mood for games.” It’s eyes glanced between the brothers in an almost alien way, “And if all you’re going to do is play with me, then I’m going to put you away in my toybox.”

“Sounds fun!” Michelangelo piped.

“Fun?” Krang shifted to look at Michelangelo.

“Yeah! In a big box with a whole bunch of other people, having slumber parties every night!” Michelangelo hummed and sighed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re going to enjoy yourself. It’s an extended stay.”

Krang shifted slightly, its armor suit slow and topheavy, and at the press of a button on the suit the floor began to open up and reveal a spiraling display case. Rows upon rows of small, frozen containers. A thick layer of frosty smoke escaped through the opening and filtered out through vents. Krang hung the two brothers over the drop and loosened his grip just to feel the fear of his prisoners. Looking down into the endless abyss of bodies distorted by frost and age, Leonardo felt a sense of vertigo overtake him. It seemed Krang latched onto the fear almost immediately, judging by the evil expression on its face.

“Not so eager to visit the other toys now, are you?” Krang laughed and pulled Michelangelo and Leonardo back over solid ground, putting them down as the ground closed once more. “Now maybe you’ll play nicely.”

“Where are my brothers?” Leonardo demanded, “My family?”

“They’re fine. They were spit out somewhere or other. Does it really matter?”

“Yes.” Leonardo snarled.

“Hmm…” Krang rubbed their folds in concentration, “Then why don’t we make a deal, little turtle?”

“What kinda deal?” Leonardo returned to hugging his brother as Michelangelo cowered against him.

“I didn't just call you here to chat.”

“Well you’re sure doing a lot of talking anyway.” Leonardo grumbled under his breath.

“I brought you here for a far more important reason.” It folded its tentacles over its mouth.

“Care to share with the class?”

Krang huffed. “You have something that interests me— or more like had. You see, a year ago today I tried to take over the earth.”

Leonardo laughed. “Didn't do a good job— you didn't even make the news! I’m sure I would know if there was a broadcast about a giant brain in a robot suit tried to take over the planet.”

“Not your earth. A different earth.”

“There’s more than one?” Michelangelo asked.

“Oh, there is a plethora of earths, all slightly different from the last! But yours… intrigues me. It’s one of the more recent ones, and the use of your ‘mystic magic’ caught my attention.” Krang circled Leonardo like a cat with a mouse, “The way you teleport around with such ease, even without a beacon to guide you~”

“Spit it out, Gellatinous, I haven’t got all day.”

“You’re very impatient for someone whose at the mercy of one far smarter.”

“Eh, I can handle Donnie, but that has nothing to do with this.” Leonardo snarked off, “What do you want?”

“I have you, and I have your family, and I have your sword.”

“Great. And what does that have to do with the price of jelly doughnuts?”

“I want you to show me how to use the magic you possess, and afterwards I will let you and your brothers go back on your merry way!”

“I thought you were all knowing or whatever.”

“I never claimed that. I too need to learn like every creature does.”

“How do we know you’re not lying about letting us go?” Michelangelo pouted, sticking out his lip.

“Do I look like the lying type to you?”

“Yes.” Michelangelo and Leonardo said as one.

“Mm. Clever boys. Well, the answer is that you don’t know. But you don’t really have many choices either.”

“Mm. Fair.” Leonardo shrugged. “Whatchu need me to show you?”

“How to activate the rift that you’ve seemed to master.” Krang tapped its tentacles together.

“Oh that’s easy! You just take the sword and go woosh woosh,” Leonardo made vague gesture, “Then it goes all whoooooo whaaaaa bwaaaaa!” He made a motion of a rift opening. “Then you go all ‘take me so and so’ and badda bing badda boom, you’re done! That work?” Leonardo clicked his tongue and wink.

“What.” Krang narrowed his eyes.

“Well, you take the pointy part and go whish woosh, then slish slash, hundred yard dash, and you’re in Paris!”

“I— I don’t understand what you’re saying!”

“Well you take the thing and do the thing so it makes a thing then you go through the thing and bam: the thing is done! Take a break and get yourself a pizza for your hard work.”

“You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Exactly how many nerves does a brain have anyway?”

“I’M NOT A BRAIN I’M AN UTROM!”

“A who-trom?” Michelangelo tilted his head.

“AN UTROM!”

“You-tron?” Leonardo asked with a smirk.

“GRRR— just show me how to do it!” Krang pulled Leonardo’s sword out of thin air and dropped it into Leonardo’s hands. “And don’t think you can outsmart me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, K-Pop.” Leonardo took the sword and pointed it, dragging it to make a circle. His face illuminated the glow and he smiled.

“Yes!” Krang cheered, smilingly widely and holding out its tentacles to Leonardo. “Give it to me!”

“Yeeeeah, no.” Leonardo stared a moment and then winked before stepping through the blue and disappearing along with the mystic portal.

“NO!” Krang launched himself forward and grabbed at the space where the turtles had once been, “GET BACK HERE!”

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt au #rise leo #rise mikey #bayverse krang

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years ago

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WWR

I’m baaaaack bitches 😘 let’s be honest the last two episodes were shit & you wouldn’t have wanted that wwr anyways. SO let’s get into the ✨angst✨ that was Nick’s episode under the cut…

Oh but before I start, why yes, yes I called this theory too. Me and this writer share a goddamn brain or something because I’ve literally always guessed big plot points of his episodes correctly 😅

Ok Nick’s dad leaving like that, with poor bby Nick all sweet asking if he promises to bring him back his favorite pastry and him hesitating before he’s going to promise- NO.

*picture Michael Scott gif here*

It’s not faaaaaair, little Nick deserved so much better- so MUCH better. And it’s only going to get worse as the episode goes on, so strap in for the walk down emo lane.

Quick pit stop for cute banter because duh. Nick giving the real estate agent Ellie’s number cracks me up because bro you want this house with her don’t you 👀 you still keep her business cards on you when you could have just as easily gotten your own (or McGee’s) by this point 👀 you just want to maaaaarry her and move iiiiiiin with her I knooooooow it 👀 Ellie’s reaction the split second we see also has me dying because she’s like ha ha this is funny you had to talk to real estate agent you drew the short straw hey wait what the fu— you did not! Before McGee interrupts any protest she can hurl back Nick’s way and that’s just gold right there. Pure middle school flirting as per usual for them and I love it.

Oooooooh Kasie’s lab scene. The growth in this one. Nick worried his family and by extension him, is going to get implicated for murder (or is guilty) even though it sounds outrageous to him, he’s got PTSD from Mona Lisa (and who wouldn’t tbh). But Ellie immediately, like IMMEDIATELY goes and defends him. Is like uh-uh don’t even GO there, it’s not a possibility its just person of interest I don’t care if it’s literal hair at the scene of a man stabbed brutally seven times, he’s not a murderer. The grooooooowth Ellie, I’m so proud of you 🥺 we went from using that logical head to realizing it’s ok to listen to your heart and wade into situations with empathy (especially for the boy you ~*looOOoOoOve*~) And then Nick talking about his dad being dead and a deadbeat and walking out when he was 5, he looks at Ellie almost the entire time, only barely glancing over at McGee like he needs to have that connection with her, she grounds him when this is suddenly very jarring having a relative by semi-involved in a murder. And Ellie isn’t the slightest bit shocked when Nick dumps this news so clearly she’s heard it and by her look, not only has she heard this, but she does not like the man for what he did to Nick. She looks pissed his father hurt Nick like that because how dare any one hurt her man 😤

And oh here it is, we back on emo lane. Nick recognizing and seeing his dad for the first time in 30 years. It’s gonna hit like a 🎵freeeeeight traaaain🎵 at first he can’t even believe its him, he blinks like a thousand times because *surely* his eyes are deceiving him and then his dad goes and uses his nickname, his nickname people the CRUELTY. YOU DON’T GET TO JUST SHOW UP THIRTY YEARS LATER AND CALL HIM BY HIS CUTE LITTLE NICKNAME YOU GAVE HIM AS A CHILD. YOU DON’T MIGUEL. NOT IN THIS GD HOUSE. Ok and now nick is in pure shock because he just got confirmation that his dad is not only *not* dead, but he’s here in front of him, in DC no less, possibly a murderer no less. AND he’s finding this out by chasing him down *not* by Miguel reaching out to him while in DC. The shock and confusion and hurt my poor baby.

And when that shock wears off and it’s just barely contained rage, my heart 🥺 so of course Ellie goes in there with him and nows she needs to immediately be the support she knows he needs but he won’t admit to needing. Nick tries to deflect with a joke at first but oh honey it’s no use. But quick comedic relief for us on emo lane “sit down, no I don’t like sitting” AHAHAHA like father like son I’m cackling because the look Ellie and nick share and nick’s eyes warn her like don’t you dare fucking say it and she’s like yep yep nope I wasn’t gonna say a damn thing I’ll just look down and try to contain my laughter because now is NOT the time. But see I’m on my couch and I can laugh all I damn well please at this scenario that was gold from the writers thank you. On a more serious level this probably hurt nick even more seeing that he’s even got the smallest something similar to his dad. He’s probably desperate to be the exact opposite, he doesn’t want to even consider being capable of what his father was capable so this - while seemingly insignificant - thing like not wanting to sit in a chair will hit deep for him without him realizing it. If something so trivial is the exact same, wouldn’t something much much heavier like commitment to relationships and family be the exact same? Wouldn’t it?? And good god poor nick for going through that mental anguish, on emo rollercoaster lane. Because it just gets better when Miguel’s excuse for being in DC is “visiting family” like call your BULLSHIT Miguel you certainly ain’t visiting family and Nick now knows oh he lies too, great, another win for the Torres blood, fan-fucking-tastic.

Quick peek at viewing room and we don’t believe in personal space, Ellie wants to be as close as possible to her hurting bby 🥺

But back to the emo stuff - Miguel just lying off his ass and Nick fed up with his father’s games because it’s truly just twisting that knife in his back that’s been stuck there for 30 years deeper and deeper. AND THEN Miguel has the audacity to yell out for “Nico” like bitch you do NOT get to call him that either. You walked out on him and never came back gtfo. And Ellie is trying so hard to keep it together but man she wants to do one of two things if not both at the same time - wrap Nick up in her arms and shield him from this deadbeat and/or punch this man through the glass to cause just a fraction of the hurt he caused Nick. But instead she just has to keep her cool to be the supportive girlfriend she is and ask nick what he thinks and then. Then. “He’s lying…because his lips are moving”

Well FUCK. Murder me right now. The anguuuuuuuish. Poor five year old Nick in a 35 year old Nick’s body. That little boy who was promised a big hojaldre in the morning from the next town over is right there. Right there to witness the father he thought he had, hasn’t changed. One of the only memories Nick probably has of his father is him leaving. Him lying and leaving. And what does he do when he finally shows up again?

HE LIES AND LEAVES. HE FUCKING LIES AND LEAVES. (I know I’m getting ahead and technically at this point we don’t know he’ll leave again but whatever sue me because this shit is too much.)

Side note: Ellie talking about a “conflict of interest” that Nick didn’t interrogate his father is laughable considering she should have never interrogated Xavier but ok.

Ooooo lets see some pissed off Nick. Let it loose baby, you deserve this. And I know I wrote about this in the tags somewhere but can we take a second to appreciate McGee’s growth??? Like bro went from straight up denial to acceptance and giving Ellie the look of “go talk to your boyfriend ok we need to make sure he’s alright and we both know your support is going to go a lot further than my support” and Ellie wordlessly kNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S SAYING. She’s like yeah, of course I’ll go help my man why wouldn’t I.

I don’t know why but Ellie asking Nick if he’s talked to his “mom and sister” is just so 🥰 I can’t explain this one to you but I love this dialogue ok. Actually I love this whole ensuing conversation. Nick still is bitter (he has every gd right to be), Ellie playing the supportive girlfriend but *tiiiiiniest* bit of devil’s advocate with saying he might be innocent. Once again, so much growth because honestly she knows what it’ll do to Nick if his dad actually *is* a murderer. Like can we for a second imagine if his dad actually was guilty, right? Nick already saw he was like his dad in trivial things like not wanting to sit in chairs. Nick has already had serious, serious doubts to what he’s capable of aka worried he could, if the right buttons were pushed, be a murderer on multiple occasions. Ellie has been there with him for all of that, she knows how low his confidence is when it comes to his perceived “goodness” and she knows just how much it would break him if he learned his direct bloodline IS capable of murder. She knows how he’d spiral if that was true and so she’s gripping to any small possibility his dad is innocent. But nick, oh poor Nick my heart- he’s done. He opens up to Ellie without literally any prodding. He’s baring his long buried soul to her, that troubled, broken childhood that he surely keeps locked away in fear of letting anyone see a weakness. He bares it without question because he feels so safe in her presence he can let her in to see his deepest shame and by extension his deepest worry 🥺🥺🥺 and poor Ellie, she’s a little lost at how to go about helping him because she does have a good relationship with her dad, so yes all she has here for him is saying his father was guilty of a crap dad but it’s because she’s still trying to convince them both he has to be good. He has to be good for Nick’s sake. Buuuuuuut it doesn’t really work does it, because oh shit pissed the fuck off Nick is a site to behold isn’t it 🥵 kicking down doors once again and his smart “still think he’s innocent” oooooooo damn. Ellie’s face says it all- she’s trying so hard to hold out hope for Miguel, so hard. She needs him to be innocent she’s willing to speak it into existence a thousand times but her face is like fuck this is going to kill him and I can’t do a damn thing about it other than just watch.

More pissed off Nick 🥵 but when you think about it is so so painful, all I can picture is that little 5 year old boy who woke up the next morning waiting, waiting, and waiting. Staring out the window at each car that slows down but ultimately passes. Tugging on his Mami’s shirt asking for the hundredth time when papi is coming back from the bakery with his hojaldre, oblivious to the tears that are slowly sliding down her cheek because she still can’t find the words to tell him what she knows deep down. That little boy who when the sun starts to set the confusion sets in with it. Why hasn’t my papi come back yet? Where is he? He promised. The sadness and sense of rejection that starts to fill his little heart when his mami tucks him and his sister into bed and he asks one final time where papi is and will he say goodnight to them and his Mami has to say she’s not sure when he’s coming home and quietly to the side, “if he’s coming home.” The little boy who weeks later has finally abandoned watching out the window every, single morning. The little boy who had his heart ripped out and thrown to the side of the road when he realized his papi didn’t go to the bakery and instead he was thrown out by his father like a day-old hojaldre. So yeah pissed Nick is fine af but good god the angst underneath is suffocating. Because Nick in this moment doesn’t know the *true* reason Miguel left. He knows what he lived and what he lived is a piece of shit. Nick’s response to “is that what you think of me” is amicable because OOF he could’ve gone the fuck off right there and told him what he really thought of him but he stuck with only a slight dig. TO WHICH MIGUEL. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. IT HASN’T HURT YOU MUCH. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. FUCK YOU. SOUNDS LIKE YOU WERE A SHIT DAD SO YEAH PROBABLY A GOOD THING YOU LEFT. THANK HIM NICK WITH YOUR FISTS BECAUSE HE’S A LITTLE SHIT. FUCK YOU MIGUEL. TOUGHENED HIM UP SO MUCH HE SHUTS EVERYONE OUT. YEAH FUCK YOU.

And then man here is the point where it all just muddies in Nick’s mind. The poor dude. He knows this line of work, hell he was undercover for almost a decade. He understands how that leaves almost no room for a family. He gets it, so deep deep deep down a tiny part of him realizes why Miguel likely *thought* it was ok to ditch his family. But for thirty years he’s felt abandoned- no reasoning can change that.

“It’s good to know he was making a nice living while my family was starving” fucking GET HIM NICK. Damn I wish Miguel had been in the room for that. He deserved to hear that one. Ruthless.

I do not know how I missed this the first time around but holy shit Nick asked to be removed from the case. Nicholas Torres- a man who does not back down. A man who bullied his way into finishing his first ever case with this team that he was arguably way too close to that one too. This is how much pain Miguel brings him. A man who does not quit, not in his vocabulary - was so pissed at getting sent home back when Reeves died, he asks to get sidelined. He actually asks to get sidelined. Holy shit Miguel did a number on Nick and I mean we knew this but 🥺😭😭 poor bby. No wonder you don’t trust yourself in a serious relationship. It’s not the girl you’re worried about it’s you. You don’t think you’re capable of staying, you’re terrified you’ll be just like your dad and leave. once again, you’ve seen the similarities with trivial things and so this just cements your fear of failing at commitment. And this is Nick in just so much pain he asks to step back. oof. I do love Leon stepping into a slight fatherly role for Nick right there though, he shows his support, his pride in Nick and in that moment I think Nick realizes while his father by blood is shit, he’s got several other strong role models in his life that care and that’s why he agrees to work with him.

Nick’s smarts comment about leaving the note behind 🤣 oh classic Torres move. Also do yourself a favor and pause it on Ellie’s reaction to him. GOLD hahaha she’s like ooo-kay did you really feel the need to say that, let’s not. Honestly I think I’ve given this look to my husband almost daily. They married y’all.

So married that she overhears Miguel trying to talk to Nick and her hackles raise!!! She’s like hold the fuck up do not traumatize my baby even more, Nick do you need me??? Because I will get you out of this, I will be here for you, I will fight this man, just say the damn word!!!! And Nick ugh, his look. They can communicate with just a simple look, he knows all that she would do for him in that moment and still nods her off, but that tiny bit of gratitude is present. Then we find out that yes Grace is really good at guessing theories “in order to keep his young family safe, it means he has to leave. Of course he can’t *tell* them why he has to leave so that they continue to stay innocent and safe. So he plays it like he’s a deadbeat dude who was “too young” to be a father and is just now realizing it and leaves his wife, little daughter & son behind. Flash forward thirty years and the NCIS case leads them to him. A piece of evidence pops up with his alias, they go knocking down doors to interrogate a potential suspect (Nick’s father) before our lovely CIA agent interfere and claims he’s innocent because he’s a CI…” like DAMN, I’m good. Hahaha any ways the reason I bring this up is because I feel like I predicted/analyzed Nick’s feelings really well back then in this theory and after seeing his expressions, they hold true. Nick is just absolutely warring with himself during this explanation, searching for anything to confirm his dad truly is a deadbeat (and yes he is still absolutely a piece of shit for what he did, but there’s a “good” reason for his leaving and that’s what makes it so- hard.) and as I said when I first broke this down, Nick understands undercover work and his dad (being the POS he is) brings that up to Nick. Like he should “get” it because wouldn’t he do the same thing since he’s in that life? But here’s where (and Nick doesn’t totally realize it yet) Nick and Miguel are different. Because Nick came back, Nick stayed. He stayed y’all and he says it here but he does not realize the implications of his words quite yet. He is NOT the same as Miguel. Yeah he doesn’t like to sit in chairs but he has stayed. He has stayed through some tough shit too but he’s stayed nonetheless. More than Miguel could ever fucking say, that’s for sure. So yes, when Nick has the come to Jesus and realizes that he is not the same as his dad and he can and will stay? Damn I can’t wait for that moment. Also I wanted to slap Miguel when he called Nick “mijo” because BITCH YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL HIM THAT. YOU DO NOT GET TO CALL HIM YOUR SON. NO. “I’m not perfect but I did the best I could” well fuck you too Miguel because look at this broken five year old boy inside a thirty five year old man’s body. Does that look like the product of a “best you could”?? Does he look “ok” to you??? Fuck you.

But yes here’s my take on where Nick is at: how do you forgive someone you’ve despised for thirty years once you know they “didn’t have a choice” (even though it will always feel like they had a choice or they could’ve explained it to you even if you were only five) and left in reality token you safe and give you a better chance at life? How do you reconcile the real dad and the one you lived with in your head for so long?? How???

And then you’re stuck still reeling from the night before and the bomb that was dropped and the reconciliation you’re attempting to your dad bringing in the ONE THING. The ONE THING he promised to bring home in the morning thirty years prior. How the actual fuck does one come back from that. Can I give another big FUCK YOU to Miguel Torres? Because seriously??? Why do you ever think that’s ok??? Hey I promised my kid I’d bring him hojaldres in the morning for breakfast thirty years ago so may as well make good on that promise right, only thirty years late that’s totally fine right? He won’t tell the difference right?

Fuck you, Miguel.

And they’re still clearly Nick’s favorite because he’s brought Jimmy to a restaurant specifically for them and that just makes my heart break for the man he had to become without a father. He still held onto that love for them even though they were probably always associated with a horrible, horrible memory of being abandoned 🥺🥺 god damn Nick you’re so broken I’m so sorry.

Ellie is still as supportive as ever and good god we clearly have lost all pretense of personal space at this point, what is her we don’t know her isn’t this normal for coworkers? But this conversation implies he called her after his talk with his dad and ugh yesssss 😩❤️ I still think he called her immediately after leaving the building, talked the entire car ride home and while getting ready for bed, needing the comfort of her voice on the other end of the line as he worked through his whirlwind of emotions and tried to come down off the cliff he felt himself on. All pretenses of a bad boy with a mysterious flare forever gone, his heart is open for her to see and he doesn’t give two shits about it anymore. But Ellie does a damn good job of girlfriend duties here and not only supports him but also gently prods him to see if he can maybe one day have a relationship with his father. The parallels she brings up makes him think (and also makes him look at her lips twice 👀 he’s just so close to her how could he not I mean right 😅) and I love that she’s still being v supportive but also trying to help him grow.

And then Ellie giving Nick the option to go with his dad or go to the other location because she’s not going to push anything on him he doesn’t want and then when he chooses the embassy to avoid his dad her reaction had me laughing 🤣 but she respects it. And yet shortly after Miguel tries to team up with Nick and Ellie hears it from the other side of the bullpen, immediately all ears to step in if he wants to avoid him again despite giving him flack for it earlier. Nick can sense her worry and support and this is the moment he takes her advice in just a tiny step and accepts teaming up with his dad. But OMG KILL ME WHEN NICK THINKS HIS DAD IS DEAD BEFORE HE GETS TO TRY AT A RELATIONSHIP AGAIN. HIS WHISPERED “papa’s” I CAAAAAN’T.

Ugh and then his last conversation with his dad while Ellie is checking on him constantly. It’s just too much, that little boy is back, desperately hoping for his dad to stick around. And Ellie is just so happy she can’t contain it for him and it’s perfect. He walks right to her, her hand on his back because they just need to touch each other after such a heavy couple of days and Nick echoes her advice back at her because he’s showing he listens and he values her insight and I just love it.

AND THEN MIGUEL HAS COME TO RIP MY HEART OUT BECAUSE HE’S A PIECE OF SHIT REMEMBER.

My poor bby Nick’s face when he realized his dad LIES AND LEAVES. REMEMBER. HE LIES AND LEAVES. God Wilmer killed it because Nick is literally on the verge of tears and my heart breaks and then yes he goes to Gibbs to see his pseudo-father who he then realizes is more of a father figure than Miguel will ever be and hell that’s okay but STILL.

I will end this WWR with a I love supportive girlfriend Ellie and another big Fuck You to Miguel Torres.

Goodnight.

#ellick #ncis #wwr #18x12 #there's a lot of yelling #there's a lot of swearing #there's just a lot yall #this ep was angst central and you know me 😅#enjooooooy #hopefully i can get 18x13 out tomorrow before 18x14 lol

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gureishi · 4 years ago

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can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland

Chapter 2 is here! The tension is building~ This chapter is SFW. Again, a reminder: this is a Choi sandwich fic, so please be cautious/skip this one if this pairing isn’t your cup of tea <3 <3

Pairing: Saeran X Reader X Saeyoung

Rating: E; Chapter rating: T

chapter two

A few days passed before you were alone with Saeyoung again.

It wasn’t that you’d been avoiding him, necessarily, but rather than there had been a lot of activity in the bunker over the last couple of days. The RFA had been coming and going—seeing for themselves that the twins were alive, of course, as well as bringing gifts both strange and lovely. Yoosung had brought a good deal of his home cooking and Jaehee had given you an assortment of coffees, while Zen had offered several DVDs of his own performances (which the three of you had already watched, of course—one of them multiple times).

Vanderwood had been around, too, perhaps more than they’d have liked—helping the brothers finish up the last of the clean-up work regarding the agency before leaving for their hometown.

By the time the chaos had died down at the end of each day, you’d fallen into bed with Saeran, exhausted and exhilarated and, most of all, relieved to be sleeping curled around his body once again.

Today, however, Jumin had stolen Saeran away for assistance with the development of his new iteration of the intelligence unit, and the rest of the RFA seemed to be easing back into their regular lives. This left you and Saeyoung, neither of whom had had regular lives to begin with.

As deeply and enthusiastically as you appreciated your friends’ presence, you were also relieved to have peace and quiet for once. The bunker felt bigger than usual after days of company; you noticed that your footsteps echoed in the halls as you walked past the numerous rooms Saeyoung had left empty—because, you thought with a twinge of sadness, he’d never expected to live long enough to fill them.

You made your way to the kitchen. In the two weeks you and Saeran had lived here alone together, you’d begun stocking Saeyoung’s gigantic, empty kitchen. You loved to cook, together and for each other, and doing so had helped you feel grounded recently. Today, there was no Saeran in his adorable apron hovering behind you and pressing surprise kisses to the skin behind your ear as you cooked. Still, you were happy to be doing it.

Today, you were roasting a chicken.

You washed your hands and pulled the six pound chicken you’d bought the day before out of the refrigerator. You put on a playlist of upbeat pop music and chopped up fresh spices, humming to yourself. Drizzling oil over the chicken, you wiggled your hips to the music. It was nice to feel like you had total agency over the simple task before you, to be alone with your thoughts and your music and your chicken.

Except you weren’t alone.

You didn’t hear Saeyoung come up behind you, which shouldn’t have been a surprise—you never could hear either of the brothers moving about the house, which was another unpleasant reminder that they’d led lives that necessitated not being heard.

“Hiya,” he said, and—taken by surprise in spite of everything—you jumped. You spun around, alarmed, and saw him: leaning against the doorframe, a goofy grin on his face. “Did I scare you?”

“Yes!” You held up your oily, parsley-coated hands in defeat. “I’m going to have to put collars with little bells on them on the both of you, I swear.”

Saeyoung laughed, and you recognized the swooping feeling in the bit of your belly; you’d felt it the other day, too, in the car. His laugh was somewhat different than the one you’d come to know (and appreciate, and seek out) in the days you’d first known him, when you’d been at Mint Eye and he’d just been a voice in a phone. It was softer now, and you thought perhaps it was more genuine.

��I wouldn’t mind that,” he said quietly.

Not sure if you’d heard him right, you said nothing, turning back to the chicken. The room felt full of static all of a sudden—sharp and buzzy.

When it was the three of you all together, as it so often was, you didn’t feel this way: like the kitchen had been cast suddenly into a tropical climate, the air thick, hot and sticky. You understood that dynamic, somehow—you, your boyfriend, and his brother. Fine. Being alone with him, though, felt different, somehow—inexplicably dangerous.

Knowing the backs of your ears were red, you liberally slathered the chicken with the parsley, as well as thyme and rosemary and cayenne. You cut open a lemon, perhaps too forcefully, wincing as a little juice squirted onto your cheek.

“What are you doing?” Saeyoung asked, persistent as ever. He had moved closer—you could feel it.

“What does it look like?” you asked. You grabbed half of the lemon and smushed it inside the chicken, as far as it would go.

“I don’t know if you want me to answer that,” he said, chuckling. You saw him in your peripheral vision: he was hovering just behind you, his eyes on your arm which was elbow-deep in the chicken.

“Saeyoung!” you reproached, shaking your head (also with a bit too much force). A lock of hair slipped out of your ponytail and into your eyes. Well, shit.

You pulled your arm out of the chicken and squeezed the other half of the lemon over it. Your hands were covered in chicken juice and lemon and spices; in other words, disgusting. You twitched your head to the side, trying to get rid of the pesky lock of hair. Great. It ended up in your mouth.

“Got it.” Before you could react, Saeyoung had leaned over you, tucking your hair behind your ear with his deft fingers. Your cheek burned where he’d touched you and you caught a whiff of his sweet, spicy scent. Oh god.

“Oh, um. Th-thanks,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. You were sure he could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. It was burning you.

You expected him to tease you then, to make a joke about the situation and reaffirm all your notions that he saw you as a lovable but thoroughly non-sexual sister type.

But he didn’t. Seeming to realize too late what he’d done, he noticeably flinched. He laughed a little awkwardly as he retreated to the opposite corner of the kitchen, as far away from you as he could be.

“Gotta take care of the chef, you know,” he muttered.

Well, that’s even worse. His reaction—the way his face flushed as he slunk away from you—confirmed a fear you didn’t even know you had. He was aware of it, too.

Aware of what, exactly?

You cut up the rest of the lemon with shaky hands and arranged the slices around the chicken in your largest roasting pan (you’d bought this recently, too—Saeyoung had really had nothing here. What did he eat for all those years? you wondered—not for the first time).

“Ahahaha, um. S-so. When is my brother getting home?” Saeyoung asked, acknowledging neither the moment that had just passed nor the abrupt change of subject. You knew for certain, in that moment, that his mind had spun off in the same—totally improbable and illogical—direction that yours had.

And there you both were. Alone together. In the kitchen. Your hands covered in chicken juices. His brother nowhere to be found.

His brother. The love of your life.

“I’m not sure!” you said, too brightly. “Um, you can check my phone, if you want. He’d text if he was on his way home.”

Conscious of the intimacy of this particular offer (and thus regretting it as soon as you’d said it), you turned away again, dusting the last of the herbs over the chicken. You didn’t see Saeyoung’s face as he reached for your phone; didn’t register the look of confusion and longing that passed briefly across his golden eyes, disappearing almost as quickly as it had emerged.

“Do you want me to pretend I don’t know your passcode?” he asked after a moment, his voice a little weak.

“Do you know my passcode?” You spun to face him, unable to help yourself. Hackers.

“J-just to be clear, I didn’t learn it on purpose!” he stammered, his face turning almost as red as his hair. You couldn’t help but find it endearing. Ugh. Why do I live with two hackers?

“Do I even want to know?” You sighed, but you were smiling—how could you not? He looked so hopelessly mortified. You told him the passcode—just in case it made him feel better.

“Y-yeah,” he said, looking down, typing it in. “The day you met Saeran. I know. I saw you put it in one time—by accident, by the way—and my brain just. Remembered it. Sorry.” His voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke. He practically whispered the apology into his chest.

“You saw me put it in?” You couldn’t help laughing, feeling relieved at the sensation. Laughing is good; laughing is normal. Laughing is something you are allowed to do with your boyfriend’s twin brother.

“Saw…in a sense.” He laughed too, finally meeting your eyes. His were brighter than usual, shining behind his glasses.

You shook your head and turned, trying to grab the pan with the chicken in it too fast; perhaps unsurprisingly, you stumbled, missing a step as you tried to keep the heavy pan aloft.

Once again moving faster than you could register, Saeyoung was there. He caught the pan easily with one hand, the other arm wrapping firmly around your shoulders. Your back hit his chest, broader than Saeran’s. For a moment, you stopped breathing.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” he said, his voice surprisingly sharp. He took the weight of the pan from you and you stumbled again, finding yourself pressed harder into him. He felt huge to you in that moment, capable of enveloping you or sweeping you off your feet. His scent filled your nostrils and your head swam.

“S-sorry!” you gasped, wiggling out of his grasp. He pulled away from you quickly, taking the pan to the oven. He looked almost…angry.

You watched his back, your body still overwhelmed by the scent and feel of him. It was the closest you’d ever been. You took a shallow, shaky breath.

“Sorry,” you said again. You didn’t know what else to say.

In that moment, the security system chimed, and you heard the load clanking of the series of doors unlocking themselves. Saeran.

“Oh yeah,” Saeyoung muttered, his back still to you. “Saeran’s almost home.”

“Thanks,” you said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. “I noticed.”

You had no reason to be short with him, but you felt annoyed all of a sudden. You wished he’d—what, exactly? Not stopped you from falling and probably hurting yourself? You stalked to the sink, drowning the sound of your heartbeat in the hot water rushing over your hands.

You knew you wouldn’t hear Saeran coming into the kitchen, so you didn’t even try to listen for his footsteps. You stayed at the sink, hypnotized by the bubbles floating up from your sudsy hands, ignoring Saeyoung. Waiting.

You felt arms wrapping around your waist and tensed, even recognizing his soft, flowery scent, even knowing intimately the hands that skated across your stomach.

“I’m home, my love,” he murmured into your hair.

Immediately comforted by the sensation of being wrapped up in him, you turned the water off, holding your hands above your head as you rotated in his arms so you could see his face.

“I missed you!” you said, because it was true.

He kissed you softly—with no regard, you noticed, for his brother, whose presence you could still feel like warm rain on your back. His lips tasted of the lip balm you’d bought for him and his arms felt safe. You were comforted, too, by the butterflies in your stomach, by the heat behind your shoulder blades. I love him no less than I ever did.

So why…?

Saeran pulled back, and you saw him register the look in your eyes. You wondered how you must look: anxious? Guilty? He ran a soft finger over your cheek.

“How was your day, princess?”

“It was calm,” you said, only half-lying. It was calm up until the last half hour or so.

“You weren’t lonely?”

You giggled and felt a blush creeping over your cheeks. No.

“No!” said Saeyoung loudly from the corner where he’d been lingering. You snuck a peek at him, and his cheeks were red, too. How suspicious do we seem right now?

But, you reminded yourself firmly, there’s nothing to be suspicious of.

“I helped her made the chicken!” Saeyoung sang, for all the world oblivious to the thoughts swirling helplessly around in your mind.

Saeran raised his eyebrows at you. “Really?” “Of course not.”

Saeran laughed his sweet laugh, ignoring Saeyoung as he insisted that he really had been helpful, going to peer at the chicken in the oven. You took a breath, starting to feel a little calmer. This was normal.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

And it kept on being normal as you settled onto the couch with a book, feet kicked up in Saeran’s lap while you waited for the chicken to roast; he propped his laptop on your legs and typed, working on the program Jumin’s team would be using. The feeling of his fingers on the keys, the laptop against your legs, was natural and familiar and wonderful.

And it was normal, too, as you eventually pulled the chicken out of the oven—crisp and golden and smelling deliciously like thyme and lemon. The three of you ate together, as you nearly always did. And Saeran rested his hand on your knee under the table, and you felt warm and full and cozy as you listened to the brothers debate the pros and cons of a programming language you’d never even heard of before.

After dinner, the twins insisted on cleaning up (which generally involved a lot of Saeyoung whining and knocking things over and Saeran intervening and scolding him, taking over the tasks with remarkable patience). You retreated to the living room to flip through streaming channels on the gigantic TV. Saeran had seen essentially no TV or movies in his life and was enthralled by everything; Saeyoung had bizarre tastes and generally couldn’t be trusted— so you’d appointed yourself in charge of picking things to watch, and everyone seemed grateful for the arrangement.

Curling yourself into a more comfortable position, you found a movie that’d come out recently and looked just interesting enough to keep the twins engaged, but just benign enough that you could tune it out. You couldn’t quite put it into words, even to Saeran, but you felt like your head was spinning round and round. You hadn’t gotten to fully process everything that had happened over the past few weeks yet, and suddenly everyone around you was slipping back into normal life, while you felt like you still barely had a grasp on reality.

You heard alarmingly loud splashing from the kitchen and briefly considered intervening on Saeran’s behalf, but stopped yourself. Saeran had a greater capacity to deal with his brother than you gave him credit for—and the two of them were so rarely alone, usually buffered by your presence. It was good for them to have to handle each other one on one, every now and then. And you were so comfortable…

You pulled a blanket over your legs, heavy head dropping into the back of the squishy couch. You heard the boys’ voices as if through a tunnel; it was a comforting feeling, drifting off to the sounds of the playful bickering of people you loved.

People you loved…

Your head swam with images of the two of them, manifested by your tired, blurry mind. Long fingers, calloused from typing; sleepy eyes and messy hair and slightly too-big clothing. Red-headed Saeran and white-haired Saeyoung, but no…that wasn’t right…

“Are you sleeping, sweetheart?” You woke abruptly from your half-slumber to the feeling of Saeran’s lips pressing gently against the skin above your right eyebrow. You head felt fuzzy. What were you just thinking about?

“Are we gonna watch a movie, or…?” Saeyoung’s voice came from the doorway, trailing off as he came into the room; you opened one eye and saw him looking down at you, grinning. “Is the princess of the bunker too sleepy?”

“Don’t wanna be the princess of a bunker,” you mumbled, sitting up and tucking the blanket around your knees. “Get me a home that’s above ground and we can talk about who’s the princess.”

Saeyoung laughed, raucous and warm and familiar, and that too felt normal. Maybe, you thought, that moment today in the kitchen was a fluke, a bizarre heart-stuttering anomaly. Saeran slid onto the couch beside you, coiling up lithe body against yours—catlike, adorable. Immediately, you let your head fall onto his shoulder, and draped an arm over your lap.

“Whaaaat did you pick for us?” Saeyoung sang. He hesitated for a moment, as if trying to decide if there was room for him on Saeran’s other side. There obviously wasn’t; he draped himself over the other arm of the couch—technically next to you and yet as noticeably far away from your body as humanly possible.

Fine, you thought, a little annoyed. Whatever you have to do.

You summarized the movie you’d picked for them and neither one of them protested—they never did. You often wondered whether you had really excellent taste in movies, or if the twins just liked going along with anything you suggested. You didn’t ask which one it was.

Saeyoung used his phone to dim the lights, and the pretty little LEDs came to life, glowing red and yellow in a string above the TV. For what it had lacked in food (and other basic necessities for being alive), the bunker—even when you’d first moved into it—did have excellent movie lighting.

But the dim lights and the movie’s soft soundtrack and the vague feeling of Saeran’s heartbeat just made everything feel hazy again, and you were finding it difficult to keep your eyes open. In your previous life—which felt like forever ago—you were at night owl; at Mint Eye, you’d slept at odd hours, always half-awake, anticipating one of Ray’s rare and delightful visits. He often came in the middle of the night, as if he had no sense of time—“Yes,” Saeran told you later, “You’re right. He didn’t.”

Now, you felt tired all the time. Though you’d emerged physically unharmed from the events of the previous week—though you were the only resident of the bunker, in fact, who had—your mind bore the scars of everything you’d experienced and witnessed recently. You felt it shutting down easily and often, as if begging you for time to heal.

Saeran’s hair tickled your cheek pleasantly and the lurid room blurred with the sounds of the movie into a miasma of comfortable deliciousness in your mind. Your surroundings were edging away, the soft couch disappearing from beneath you, the sounds and sensations melting into a dream…

Laying in a field, the grass caressing your face…

…someone licking icing off your bottom lip…

…the sweet, inexplicable smell of something baking in the distance…

…a soft hand on your thigh…

…and, suddenly, the jarring sensation of your body shifting as somebody got off the couch. You fell into wakefulness heavily.

“…fell asleep,” you murmured, nuzzling your head into Saeran’s shoulder. “Think I had a dream about you.”

The shoulder beneath your head shifted a little, and something felt different; it was more cushioned than you were used to, and maybe a little bit higher up. The angle of your head felt strange. And wasn’t Saeran on your left side…?

“Probably not about me,” said a voice that most certainly did not belong to your boyfriend. Your eyes flew open.

“Oh,” you said.

You were, irrefutably and inexplicably, curled up against Saeyoung.

“I, uhhh…didn’t mean to surprise you,” he muttered. You lifted your head, only making the situation worse—his face was so close to your own. “We didn’t want to wake you.”

His proximity paralyzed you. You’d certainly never been near him like this before—you could practically count every one of his eyelashes and feel the warm breath from his slightly parted lips as he stared down at you, eyes wide behind his glasses. There was such a strange look on his face, and you needed to move, dammit, but his scent intoxicated you and your muscles felt like jelly.

Up close like this, his face held such an innocence. You’d noticed it before, when he was asleep. Normally, his demeanor vacillated wildly between carefree and closed off—both protective mechanisms, ones you recognized easily. Behind all that, though, there was an almost childlike look to him—a wide-eyed longing, as though he was waiting, with a patience that could be borne only from deep neglect, for someone to offer him comfort.

And as you thought this, it was as if something broke inside you—a string, pulled taut, snapped, and you were overcome by the urge to close the tiny bit of distance between you, to press a searing kiss to the crease that had appeared on his forehead, just between his eyes.

Something must have changed in your expression, because he changed, too. The open and naïve yearning on his face was replaced, in one breathtaking instant, with something new: his eyes darkened, clouded over, as though he was at war with himself.

“Oh,” you said again.

And he flinched, as though that one syllable had dragged him back from the precipice of a cliff. There was a new look on his face now, and this one you recognized at once: it was fear.

He leapt to his feet and you instinctively shifted away from him, too; he stood still, silent, eyes cast downward. You didn’t know why, exactly, but you felt as if you’d done something very wrong.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Saeran appeared from the kitchen, and Saeyoung leapt as if he was expecting an attack. You leaned back into the couch, feeling dizzy.

“You slept through most of the movie,” Saeran told you, making his way back to your side. His expression was soft; did he not feel the overwhelming tension in the room?

“Sorry,” you said, leaning into him, toying aimlessly with the edge of his sleeve. “Didn’t mean to.”

He laughed and ruffled your hair; the gesture felt like swallowing a warm drink.

“You don’t have to apologize for falling asleep,” he said.

“I—” said Saeyoung, and you both turned to him; if he hadn’t noticed his brother’s strange behavior before, Saeran certainly noticed it now. You felt him tense a little; Saeyoung stood as though he was in a war zone rather than his own living room. “I’m gonna go to bed,” he finished, a little stiffly. “It’s late.”

It wasn’t.

“Are you sure?” Saeran’s voice was hesitant; after all they’d been through, you thought, the brothers still had no idea how to comfort each other. And Saeran, of course, didn’t actually know what was wrong with Saeyoung. Technically, neither did you.

Except, said a little voice in the back of your head—a little voice that had been growing steadily louder, against your will, for several days. Except you do know, don’t you?

Saeyoung turned away, muscles taut as if he wished he were running. He muttered a goodnight over his shoulder and slunk into the shadows of the hallway. In an instant, he’d disappeared.

Saeran exhaled slowly. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Do you know what…?” he started, fingers drumming against your knee.

“Not really.” Neither true nor false.

“I still don’t…” Saeran’s fingers tapped your leg faster, faster. You stilled them with gentle fingers and he looked up at your gratefully. “I still don’t know how to talk to him,” he admitted.

“You’ll learn,” you said.

He nodded slowly and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I’ll try tomorrow,” he said thoughtfully. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, hiding your expression.

Saeran buried his other hand in your hair, running his fingers over your scalp in the way he knew you loved. He brushed through the strands, untangling, smoothing. This was one of the first gestures of intimacy he’d felt comfortable with—brushing your hair and, eventually, playing with it with just his fingers. Usually, this pacified you. But tonight, your thoughts were racing, and though you closed your eyes, you couldn’t slow your heart, hammering violently against your ribs.

You, not Saeran, were the one who needed to try to talk to Saeyoung.

But, muttered that frustratingly insistent voice, which was growing louder by the minute, what on earth will you say?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

@currentlyprocrastinating @thesirenwashere @ultrasupernini @cro0kedme @otomefoxystar @dawn-skies06 @nad-zeta @hunterelys @pamakali

#mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #choi sandwich #saeran x reader x saeyoung #can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

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saintodo · 4 years ago

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(^≗ω≗^) anon oiwueriwueroiw thanks december is nearing so ig thats why its so shit rn (my uni has a policy of not allowing hw/pts on the holidays so horray!!!) also am frothing real hard right now thank you for the meal im also very very glad that you enjoyed it i was scared i sent in way too much so it was a relieve you liked it AHAHAHA!!!

also--eowiuHHHHHHHHHHH just Imagine the two of you finally fucking and landing bites everywhere and anywhere against one another but more so on gojo when he takes and takes everything you give him like a good boy bc you deserve that much--you deserve everything and is willing to beg be edged and be pushed past his limit, toy with him, break him, anything anything--he'd do anything for you even if it meant losing his mind about everything and anything and can only think of youyouyouyouyouyouyou--you he doesnt care he's yours and your his, and you deserve it for being such a lovely and wonderful human towards him.

(bonus the next time he meets w the bitch to cut ties he shows off the hickies and lovebites you've marked him w or or--- he brings you along and you do the showing off hmhmhm who knows.)

that’s nice you’ll get to enjoy the holidays without any worries or stress (related to school at least). ehhehehe and of course!! thank u so much for sending it in I LOVED IT <33 vampire gojo x human/bloodbag reader is just SO good like i love that dynamic SOSOSOSO much.

you two have SUCH big marking kinks. whenever you fuck, neither one of come out unscathed. it’s always very apparent when you sneak away from galas to go hookup somewhere because when you come back to join the others, both of your necks are littered in hickies of varying sizes.

i think gojo (for the most part) is a bratty sub but if you take the time to take him apart, he becomes putty in your hands. he’s spoiled and greedy, and all too happy to take whatever you give him (and more.) the thought of him slurring on his words because you’re fucking him so good is so 😵‍💫😵‍💫

ALSO I LOVE THE BONUS YOU’VE INCLUDED. hmmm let’s talk about what goes down if you don’t tag along. gojo goes to visit the woman, ringing her doorbell over and over until she swings the door open with an irritated look on her face. she plasters on a fake smile when she recognizes it’s gojo at her door, but it drops the moment she realizes he’s covered in love bites that were not her doing.

“t-toru? what is the meaning of this?” she wildly gestures to his exposed neck.

“i heard you told my partner some stuff that was not so nice,” gojo says, ignoring the woman’s questions. her eyes widen in shock at the use of partner. had she and the man before her not just gone out to dinner the previous night?

“wha—”

gojo cuts the woman off before she can get a word in.“i just stopped by to let you know that i’m done with you,” he cheerfully says, clapping his hands together. the woman’s jaw drops at how casual gojo states that he’s cutting off all ties with her. he turns his back toward her and begins to walk down the entranceway of her home.

“oh i forgot to mention something.” gojo smacks the side of his head before twisting his neck to the side to glance back at the woman still standing in her doorway. his eyes, a bright, brilliant blue, flash dangerously. “if i ever hear of you bothering my partner again,” his voice drops a few octaves. “you will not like the consequences.”

despite being an old and powerful vampire herself, the woman feels a shiver crawl up her neck. the gojo clan, especially the heir standing before her, is not to be trifled with. their power is infinite and their stature in vampire society is grand. they can get away with anything with little to no consequences. the implications of gojo’s words are not lost on her.

after she overcomes her shock, she loudly huffs to convey her annoyance (and to conceal her fear) before slamming the door behind her.

gojo smiles to himself before continuing down the pathway. he can’t wait to get back home to you.

#around the hearth #saint.anonymous #saint.(^≗ω≗^)#sin too much #saint.gojo satoru #shrine.jujutsu kaisen #tw dom reader

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break-slash · 5 years ago

Text

Puzzleship JP & KR Fancomic Recommendation List

UPDATE (19-12-2020): Added two more artists and two more titles on the Japanese lists!

I don’t consider myself as someone very tidy and organized, but I just like making lists of the things I love, somehow. Hence this post. I haven’t been in the fandom for long but I thought I’d share some of my favorites primarily from two sites: pixiv and postype. Most of the postype ones are behind paywall, and I will mark them differently.

Some of my favorites come from the same artists, so I’ll also link their pixiv profile on top of my favorite work of them.

(I actually bookmarked a lot and picking them isn’t an easy task, so I will update this step by step. If you see only a link of an artist, that’s the reason, but I can guarantee you will love their works! Feel free to recommend me yours through reblogs or DM as well!)

Japanese

Artist: CYHGM

She is a Chinese and is more active on Weibo (she posted tons of puzzleship there, but my Mandarin is beyond rusty so I could only cry in despair lmao), but she has two fancomics that I absolutely adore of. Those two mentioned fancomics are:

The Past and The Future. You can check my translation for this one here. It tells about Atem who gets transported to 3000 years later before his coronation, and that’s where he met post-canon!Yugi. Just... everything about this comic is so wonderful. I teared up at the last page, not gonna lie ;_;

The Pharaoh and The Fairy: An Ancient Egypt-slash-fantasy AU featuring the S0/TOEI casts. The fairy Yugi was saved by Atem, and it’s an obligatory for fairies to grant their savior’s wishes. However, Atem doesn’t exactly have something he wants of, and this confuses Yugi on how he should repay him back. Pure undiluted sugar, and fairy!Yugi is just so cute.

Artist: Fushitas

Arguably one of the most popular Puzzleship fanartists in the JP fandom (look at their number of followers on Twitter, man), but maybe it’s also due to the fact they were in AoT fandom too. They’re mostly active on Twitter, and if you also watch Zexal, they draw tons of Yuma-centric pairings too. They have released lots of books, and their prices on the reseller sites are... well, let’s just say, unbelievable. Just to show how famous they are.

From everlasting to everlasting: Set after DSOD. A mysterious figure appears in front of Atem, claiming to be his queen. Everyone in the after life somehow acknowledges this person, which makes him even more confused because he’s the only one unaware of this. On the living realm, Yugi who is on the way to his home got hit by a truck (isekai much??) and when he woke up, he suddenly plays the role of Atem’s queen. I’ve always adored Fushitas’ drawing, and this is no exception. The story is pretty simple, but is still good! The ending of this comic is everything I’ve always wanted from the canon lol.

The King’s Guest: Ancient Egypt AU. The councils are starting to get worried because Atem shows no interest in marrying someone, so Shimon opens up a “chance” sort of for civilians to become “someone for the Pharaoh to talk with”. The civilian Yugi takes this chance right off the bat, and stuff happens? This one is just so sweet and the misunderstanding later in the story kinda cracks me up. I really love the way they build the two’s chemistry in here.

Artist: usi

They only draw two puzzleship fancomics, but both are so good and explores the themes I’ve loved from the pairing.

The Lotus’ Devil: Set post-canon with a flashback. It tells about Yugi’s regret in the past where he wanted to show Atem a small pool supposed to be full of lotus flower only to arrive seeing them not blooming. Fast forward to the post-canon, he found out that there’s actually a monster residing on that pool. I really, really loved the ending scene of this one.

Who’s The Detestable, Fortunate Guy Here: I think this is set sometime in the canon story, although the exact timing is unclear. It’s a short comic of Yugi asking Atem to pretend to be his date and go on a “dating practice”. A very pleasant hurt-and-comfort kind of story, and who doesn’t love a story of them dating anyways? :”D

Artist: Houzuki Anzu

She doesn’t draw much YGO, but she has some Arc-V and 5D’s fanarts too if you watch the series!

Hourglass: Sets after the Memory World arc. Yugi keeps hearing a strange sound inside his mind, and he finds out there’s a huge hourglass standing there, guarded by the will of Millenium Puzzle. Apparently, the hourglass is linked to Atem’s remaining time in the living realm? Anyways, the ending of this comic might look like a cliffhanger, but I personally think it isn’t. I love the theme this comic picks to explore and the way it is presented.

Present: Same setting with Hourglass, but this one focuses more on Atem sorting out his feelings about the Ceremonial Duel and what he has learned from Yugi in general. It’s a very nice extra detail that the canon slightly lacks of, and I just love... bittersweet stuff in general haha.

Artist: Chiriko

Are you the type who wants puzzleship to be full of happiness and fluff and nothing else? Well, she has a number of comics to fill that need! I actually love all of her works, but if I have to pick, these two are my favorite:

...Don’t Ever Leave Me Again: A short story about Yugi having a nightmare of where he was stuck in the fire accident at Otogi’s store. Well... this isn’t a fluff sort of, but it’s... a happy ending still? /shot

[Untitled]: A dialogue-less comic, but this is the sort of post-canon what-if that I really, really like. Atem stroking Yugi’s face while sleeping is just... so soft man....

Artist: Komori Nea

Their art style was one of those that’s very noticeable and has a certain charm on it. They are pretty active on Twitter, and even draws puzzle comics once in a while that haven’t been uploaded to pixiv (which is why I recommend you to check their twitter gallery too haha)

The Soul Stays Awake: Post!DSOD. Atem comes back from afterlife in hoping that Yugi would be as happy as he is, but months after, Atem’s existence still hasn’t been registered on Yugi’s life just yet. Another post!DSOD take that I like which involves the fear of another farewell and uncertainty, but this is a good hurt-and-comfort. I swear, it’ll hurt you just... for a while. :”)

The Attack’s Aim: Set during the canon series. A short comic mostly portraying Yugi’s hidden strength but also the tenacity of duelist that is not only targeted toward the opponent, but also to Atem, without the person actually noticing it. The last page of this one is so... soft and gentle I had to put it into this list.

Artist: caf

Often draw with S0/TOEI style, characters and characterization in mind. Their coloring in illustrations is so soft, plus artists who specialize in S0/TOEI style can’t be found so easily. Their comic style is not a manga-like one and they write the dialogues with handwriting, but if you can read hiragana and write and understand how kanji works (so you can write it on translation machine), their comics are easy to understand!

magenta: S0/TOEI AU where Yugi and Atem are two separate person. A short comic of Yugi lying under the rain as Atem searches for his whereabouts. I really love the way they portray the rain and the atmosphere surrounding the scene. Or maybe I’m just biased with rains in general, ahahaha.

Yuugi and Mao’s Stay Home: Same AU as above. Our two boys has to face the same shit we do IRL in this comic, which is quarantine. Atem offers to cook something for Yugi since he can’t eat outside. You love seeing Yugi eating stuff? This is a perfect comic for y’all.

Artist: Kkyut

Artist: Kayu(i)

Others:

Gemini: As Atem comes back to the living world, Yugi faces the dilemma of having being separated by “his other self” physically and mentally. A short comic, but the lines the artist used are so... beautiful. Like, the way they describe Yugi’s loneliness?? Just hits the park so much.

Until The Hourglass Runs Out: Set after the Memory World Arc. As their farewell day goes closer, Yugi decides to give Atem a full control of his body at school so he could spend his time with Jounouchi and the gang more. However, things don’t go as smooth as Yugi had expected. If you like that little teeny weeny pain before the Ceremonial Duel, this comic perfectly suits the taste.

see you sometime: Post-canon. Mahaad offers Atem a chance to meet Yugi in the living realm one more time, but with several conditions. Firstly, he could only stay for a day at maximum. Secondly, Yugi won’t be able to remember who he spent his time with after Atem hangs out with him. Thirdly, Yugi will not be able to “recognize” this Atem; he will only be registered in Yugi’s mind as a new classmate. A bittersweet comic in whole, but seeing the two having fun like a normal teenager would just makes me grin.

After The Rain: A dialogue-less comic, so everyone would be able to read this right away. A short comic of the two, but still very cute and wholesome!

The Tropics of Horus: Post!DSOD, Atem has to chase Kisara who lingers around Kaiba’s soul and he needs Yugi’s help to bring Kisara back to afterlife, but he has his own ulterior motive. This manga is so dialogue-heavy and might be hard to dissect especially if you don’t understand JP grammar and context, but the time spent trying to understand the meaning behind every words will be worth it. That much I guarantee. Just... everything about this comic, and how Atem’s “ulterior motive” connects to our boys’ adventure in canon series are so well planned. You can also purchase the R18 version in a form of the book here (toranoana)

Christmas Day: S0/TOEI puzzleship hint (dark puzzle???). There’s something in store for Yugi in Christmas, but this one might surprise Yugi a lot. It’s not that the prompt of “Atem gets separated from Yugi temporarily” is uncommon, but it is still a sweet one and makes you smile throughout the pages.

Korean

All titles mentioned here are not free unless mentioned otherwise. Also I don’t understand Korean except being able to read Yugi and Atem’s name, so my story interpretation might be wrong. If you understand Korean, I’d really love for you input! ;_;

You can check out on how to buy comics from postype here

Yugi’s 2020 Birthday Anthology: Rain and After End

This is an anthology consisting of four titles, but they share the same (or similar) setting where Atem is reincarnated, but he doesn’t remember his past (or has not yet, depending on how the story portrays it). Some are age-gap (adult!Yugi and high school student!Atem), so you might want to consider that if it’s not your cup of tea.

To Like Someone is to...: Age-gap setting. Mostly tells about how Yugi deals with his feeling as the reincarnated Atem in front of him turns out to have a feeling on him. I like how the story’s conclusion is that Yugi will sort it out slowly while also teasing Atem how he’s “too early” to date Yugi w.

In A Circle: A story about how the two met through an online chess game. Iirc Yugi works in a game company and Atem is sort of a famous e-sports player in this setting. There’s a lot of dialogue in this one and the app sometimes can’t process them very well, but I liked what I can understand from it! not very convincing is it haha i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done this

Familiarity: Age-gap setting, where Yugi becomes Atem’s caretaker. The comic mostly focuses on how Atem notices how kind (or too kind) Yugi is sometimes, but there are times where he feels distant. The plot where Atem gets into a fight with the other kid in his school because the kid mocks Yugi, and how Yugi just... accepts it even when Atem doesn’t want to say his reason of punching the kid is just.... god... I love this kind of age-gap setting like this I guess ;_;

Touchdown: Age-gap setting, but Atem is older in here (university student). The two goes to Atem’s university festival and they think about their own feeling when they got separated. On their way to drop Atem off, he confesses to Yugi, but Yugi is still unsure on his overlapping feeling between the reincarnated Atem and the Atem he knows. Make sure you play Motohiro Hata’s Rain and Aimer’s After Rain during the car scene to make the “rain” mood works even better :”)

Others:

Try For Point: A continuation of Touchdown, where Atem (like, the one from the past) visits Yugi in his dream and helps Yugi in sorting out is his feeling toward his reincarnated self. Atem’s advice is so sweet and there’s one certain line from this comic that I remember very deeply - there’s a part where he says, “If you don’t pull out the card, you won’t know what card it is, right?” to help Yugi clearing out his hesitancy ;w; at this point, I curse myself for not being able to understand Korean

#puzzleshipping #blindshipping #ygo #im sorry if i can't make a precise description...#will be updated regularly as i scan through my bulky bookmarks

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