#because i think it's time for a new generation to take over generally i think it's been in the hands of people who
Note
Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures
... and Leo, of course.
OH GOD OK
uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.
it really
really got out of hand.
This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.
Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.
I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....
btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)
-----
When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.
When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.
But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.
Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.
A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.
They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.
So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.
He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.
He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.
There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.
He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.
As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.
"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?
He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.
"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"
Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.
He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.
He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.
His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.
"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"
"Qué?" Leo asks.
Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"
Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"
"I'm sure you would like some dinner."
"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?
To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"
Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"
He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"
Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.
This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.
He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.
"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."
If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.
"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."
The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.
He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.
-----
Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.
He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.
Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.
His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.
Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.
So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.
(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)
He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.
He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.
So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.
-----
The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.
Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.
Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.
Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?
He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!
But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.
And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.
His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.
Another growl. He groans out loud.
He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.
-----
No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.
He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.
(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)
He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.
He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.
(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)
After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.
Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!
"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."
Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.
Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.
"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"
"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."
"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."
"That's gotta be unconstitutional."
"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."
Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"
Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.
Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."
"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."
"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"
"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"
The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?
"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"
Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.
So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.
Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."
The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.
-----
The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.
He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.
As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.
He also needs to sleep.
The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.
The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.
But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.
After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.
He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.
He wishes he was home.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?
It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.
They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.
He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.
-----
The same routine plays out over the next two days.
Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.
They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.
More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.
Nothing. Always nothing.
(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)
It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.
And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.
Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.
It's miserable.
And there's still nothing to do.
He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.
He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.
He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.
By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.
But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.
-----
Something new happens on night five.
It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.
Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.
Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.
The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.
The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.
He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.
The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.
The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.
Leo's mouth is watering.
He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.
"I'm not hungry," he lies.
The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.
Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.
The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.
"You want this," he says.
Leo shakes his head.
"You really sure?"
Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.
The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.
Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."
Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.
Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.
After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.
"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."
Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.
The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.
Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.
He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.
After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.
-----
"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.
"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."
Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.
"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"
For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.
His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.
That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!
Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.
Leo swallows hard. "No comment."
Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.
"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."
Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.
Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"
"Little bit," says Leo.
Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.
And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.
-----
The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.
He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.
Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.
Where are you? Leo thinks back.
There's no answer.
He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.
Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.
He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.
It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.
He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.
Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.
Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.
He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.
It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.
It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.
The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.
It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.
He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.
-----
He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.
"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.
(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)
"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."
"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."
"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."
One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.
Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.
Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.
"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."
Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.
"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."
Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"
"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.
Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.
"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"
Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."
"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"
Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."
Leo falters, his body going slack.
What an obvious, stupid mistake.
(Some face-man he is.)
It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.
"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."
"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."
Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.
Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!
What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?
You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.
He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.
He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.
It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.
Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.
"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.
Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.
-----
After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.
It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.
He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.
Which means his chance is finally here.
He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.
(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)
So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.
Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.
Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."
Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.
It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.
"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.
He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.
The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.
Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.
Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.
Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.
"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"
Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.
He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.
He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.
Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.
It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.
Where is he?
He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-
BANG!
A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.
It's a dart.
Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.
-----
"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.
Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.
He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.
And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.
Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.
"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.
"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."
That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.
He says nothing.
Bishop sighs.
"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."
Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."
-----
The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.
"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."
Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.
"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"
And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.
But he's just...
so...
hungry.
So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.
And he nods.
The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.
It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.
"Please," he gasps out.
"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."
Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...
He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.
He lowers his head.
"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."
The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.
"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."
And then he takes another bite.
Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.
Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.
And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.
"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"
The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.
"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."
Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.
His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.
And his stripes...
His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.
They're almost black.
Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.
He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.
This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.
This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.
He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.
This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!
Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.
Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.
But he's tired, and hungry, and he...
He wants to go home.
He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.
-----
Maybe they aren't coming.
That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.
He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.
So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.
Unless they aren't coming.
Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.
He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.
So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.
Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.
Maybe it's time to give up.
---
Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.
You are not alone.
-----
He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.
"You don't look well," he observes.
No shit, Leo wants to say.
"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."
The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?
"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"
He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.
But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.
They might hurt Draxum.
They might hurt his family.
And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...
Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.
Maybe they'd finally trust him.
Maybe, at least, he can have that much.
Leo shakes his head.
Bishop scowls.
"Temperature down ten degrees."
-----
Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.
He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.
He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.
He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.
Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.
Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.
But he's so sleepy.
It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.
And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.
So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.
He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.
But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.
So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.
It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.
At least he's not shivering.
Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.
-----
(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.
The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)
-----
Part 2 (not yet out)
#rottmnt#rise leo#agent bishop#cw: psychological torture#dandy fanfiction#I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting#please don't be mad at Raph himself lol
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» Summary: You and Emily have been seeing each other for a couple of months now -without anyone knowing -, but can't keep being her secret.
» Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!BAU!Reader
» Word count: 3,9k (omg, when??)
» Warnings: angst, it's implied that reader is outed - Emily isn't, allusions to intercourse in the beginning, mentions of (internalized) homophobia, mentions of coming out (forced coming out is mentioned, one (1) small implication of conversion therapy like stuff (it's only talked about, no details or anything close)) and unsupportive family, mentions of Emily's mother probably not accepting her sexuality (like Rosa Diaz' mother/parents in Brooklyn 99, and a thing or two my own mother said), Emily is kind of mean ig?, cheating but not really?, cm typical stuff is mentioned (not detailed), kind of open but definitively more leaning to a sad ending; please let me know if i missed anything!
» A/N: written for @imagining-in-the-margins' Pride Challenge, i used the “It’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.” dialogue prompt; also inspired by Say something I'm giving up on you by Sam Redden; tenses? i don't know her here; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general
The euphoric bliss that had flooded over you just moments before, leaves your body with every passing second, and the more it wears out, the more the dreadful empty feeling that had slithered its way into your heart not too long ago takes its place. Your breathing is still going fast and your heart hasn't had enough time to slow down yet, when you narrow your eyes while looking at the ceiling. Why did you do this to yourself? Again. This couldn't go on like this.
"I can't do this any more."
You can hear Emily move next to you, turning her head to look at you. She is breathing fast and her warm breath hits your bare shoulder. "What do you mean?" She brushes a few stands of her hair back that had fallen over her eyes.
All of a sudden everything is getting too much. The sensation of sweat running down the back of your neck, the air Emily is exhaling and how it is hitting your skin, over all her presence next to you in the bed. Her bed. Naked.
With a scoff you sit up and bury you face in your hands before you slide them up, racking your fingers through your damp hair. "This. Us. I just- I can't go on like this, spending my nights with you and act as if I haven't touched every inch of your body the next day."
Today is not the first time you had said it out loud and talked about it with her, about wanting to be able to hold and kiss her around other people. It is not the first time you are thinking about this, about leaving because nothing changed event though she had promised and her reasons – excuses , really, at this point – had been valid in the beginning, but now, every time she comes up with a new one they sound more and more made up. Honestly, you can't remember the newest one to a full extent – it had been so absurd –, but it had something to do with her shoes. Like, come on, really? Shoes...?
For a short moment it is silent except for both your breathing. You wait, and when she doesn't say anything you get up to get dressed. Nothing more than your name leaves Emily's lips, and not louder than a whisper, as you walk around the room to pick up your clothes and put them back on. “What?” you say flatly, but you don't look at her. You close the button of your pants and look around the room for your second sock.
“It's good what we are having. I like it how it is.” She shuffles closer, crawling over to edge of the mattress. “And sneaking around is exciting, isn't it?”
You crouch down to pull the missing sock from under the bed and bite down on your lip as your heart clenched painfully. Sneaking around?
“Is that what this is to you? Just... Sneaking around? That's all it is, huh.” A dry laugh leaves your lips as you slip the sock over your foot and then turn to walk out of the room.
“Oh c'mon, Y/N. It's fun, isn't it?” – Fun?! So this was just fun for her? – “You and I, we... It's enough how it is, don't you think?”
With one step out of the bedroom, the other foot still inside, you look back over your shoulder. “All this hiding is enough for you?” You don't fully turn around, you don't want to face her and look into her eyes. Don't want Emily to see the tears that are starting to pool in your eyes or how much her words are breaking your heart.
“I'm not hiding”, she says, defending herself, totally ignoring what you really meant.
You shake your head and leave the room, picking up your bag from the couch in the living room as you walk past it. “You are. And I get it, you're not out and that's okay.” Emily gets up from the bed and quickly puts on a bathrobe before she follows you out, watching you collect your things and walking to the front door. “You shouldn't come out unless you are ready. But at least be honest with yourself-”
“I am. not. hiding”, she interrupts you, her voice sounds strained and as if she is speaking through gritted teeth. The soft pat pat of her bare feet on the floor stop just two meters behind you.
Something in you snaps. "Yeah well, you are hiding me and I'm sick of being your god damn dirty little secret! I love you for fucks sake!"
You freeze as soon as the words leave your mouth, in the middle of putting on your jacket, and for a moment neither of you says a word, the silence seems louder than anything else, louder than how loud you just yelled those words. It was the first time either of you had said those three words to the other and the timing could not be any worse.
"You... What?"
You shake your head, breaking out of your frozen state and bend down to put on your shoes next. "Forget it. I'm done." is what you say. We're done is what you mean.
You wish she would at least say something, but Emily stays silent and when you reach for the door and open it, she doesn't keep you from walking out. When you close the door behind you, she doesn't open it again to call out for you. And when you reach the stairs at the end of the hallway and take the first steps down, the door stays closed and she doesn't run after you.
She let you leave like it was nothing, like you were nothing. Like all the time you had spent together meant nothing to her. All those days and nights full of hushed voices whispering sweet nothings to each other, full of soft touches and even softer kisses. Emily let you walk out of her apartment, her life, as if you never meant anything to her, like the last six months indeed were nothing more than fun to her.
From the moment you step out of the door of Emily's apartment building, to the moment you walk in and close the door of your own, you feel numb and you operated solely on autopilot on your way home. If someone were to ask you what route you had taken home or if you missed a red light even, you wouldn't be able to tell them.
As if a it hasn't been enough for one night, you get called into work just 30 minutes later; the body of a young woman had been found, tortured and mutilated, and another young woman had been abducted only five miles from where the body was found.
When you arrive in the round table room you greet your team mates grimly and you are relieved that you got in before Emily. When she enters minutes later, you don't turn around, you don't say hello and you do your best to ignore her. The tension in the room is palpable and judging by the looks the others shoot between her and you, they know that something had happened between you two.
They didn't know that you were dating – hooking up? What ever the fuck it had been to her anyway –, but you didn't have to be a profiler or even know either of you personally to see that something was up. Hotch is kind enough to not team the two of you up, sending you to the disposal site with Rossi instead.
The days since you walked out of Emily's apartment turned into weeks. The days turned into weeks since you last talked, like really talked. You had kept your distance to her as much as you could, trying to sort out your feelings and trying to see if she would take a step in your direction, to see if she even cared at all.
But, slowly but surely you had to accept the fact, that everything pointed to her not caring about you. Every conversation with her was strictly professional, talking about the cases was the only time you spoke to each other. Not a day goes by when you don't wish she would say something more to you, something personal, something deeper. Something emotional. That she would say something that would keep you from giving up on her. But she never did.
You should have known from the start that this was how it would end, that the only outcome from getting involved with Emily would be that you would end up with a broken heart. Naivety couldn't even begin to describe why you had even wasted a single thought about having a future with her, a happy ending; with Emily, a woman who hasn't come out, a woman with a mother who would be more okay with her daughter being the side chick of some married man, maybe even multiple, than to accept her daughter to be in a relationship with another woman; a mother who says, that she “doesn't care who her daughter ends up with, as long as it isn't someone of the same gender”.
Ever since the night you broke up with Emily – if you could even call it a break up when you weren't even a couple, officially speaking – you cry yourself to sleep and your feelings are bouncing back and forth, scrambling your mind and heart in to a broken, confused mess.
On one side, you are drowning in the shattered pieces of your heart; the pain getting stronger every time you see Emily, the longing and yearning strangling you harder every time you are left alone in a room with her, the floor under your feet crumbling away stone by stone with every day that passes without her reaching out to you. You miss her, you miss her so fucking much, and way more than you would like to admit – even to yourself, which is kind of hypocritical, considering you had told Emily to “be honest to herself”.
On the other side, you are cursing yourself for unintentionally giving her an ultimatum of some sort; not only for going public about your relationship, but therefore also for her to come out, even if only to your team, your friends. It was far from your intentions to pressure Emily into anything she didn't want to do, into something that she wasn't ready for. You never set a time or anything like that, but the implication was there – intended or not – by wanting to go public.
It is scary; coming out... As a woman who loves women, a man who loves men or either loving both. It doesn't matter if you come out as transgender, non-binary or gender-fluid, asexual or aromantic, or … or. ... or ... It doesn't matter who you are or what you feel or who you love: it is hard and scary either way and you never know how the person in front of you will react, even if you think you know.
Coming out to people, to friends, who you trust and know on a deeper level – even when you already for a hundred percent are sure that they will accept you no matter what – is hard enough. Coming out to your family is another kind of scary uncertainty: hoping they will still love you, that they will accept and support you; the fear of them turning their backs on you, cutting you out of their lives and on top of all this, hoping that if this was the case, that this was all they would do, hoping it would stay the lesser kind of evil and that they wouldn't go to any extreme measures to try and “fix” you. It was already hard enough to come out planned and willingly at your own pace. But having to do it for what ever reason? Unimaginable. Cruel.
On more than one evening you dialled Emily's number, your thumb hovering over the green button and ready to press down. Ready to apologize for how you had reacted and what you had said, for pressuring her. Maybe even apologizing for telling her that you loved her –
Wait. What?
Yes, maybe you should swallow your pride and call her first and ask her to talk; but apologizing for your feelings? No, you were done with shoving your feelings down and taking what you could get and stay in a one-sided relationship – letting the person use and play with you while they were stringing you along. For them to give you a slither of requited affection whenever they could feel you slip away, depending on your soft heart and that you would stay in hopes they will requite your feelings, your love, someday. No, you were done slowly dying for unrequited love.
The ball is in her court and it is on her to throw it back or to keep it.
Being around Emily has gotten unbearable these last six weeks. You had never felt like this before, never felt like this for anyone else until you had met her. It was all overwhelming and too much, but not enough at the same time, the feelings overpowering you in the best and worst kind of ways; pushing and pulling at your heart, slowly tearing it apart but also glueing it back together in a wild storm of emotions. You felt like you were just starting to learn how to love, but also knowing exactly how to do it – how to love her, in the right way and with everything you had; heart, body and soul.
But it doesn't seem like your love is enough; enough to save what ever you and Emily had been having, to find your way back into each others arms.
The last straw, the rotten cherry on top, was on a night out with the team to celebrate a successful case at a bar near the FBI building and you walked in on Emily making out with someone else in a dark corner near the restrooms. It was too dark for you to fully see the other person. And for a second you aren't sure what would hurt you more: if she was making out with a man, or with a woman.
You get your answer rather quickly, when Emily sees you and pushes the person away. They stumble back a step or two and then turn their head to follow Emily's gaze. And... it's a woman.
There are no words to describe how you are feeling as the realisation sinks in; leaving you cold and numb. How could you have been so stupid? It had never been about her. Not about the hurtful and homophobic things her mother always says to her, not about her outing, not about her feelings. It had nothing to do with not being ready to come out and go public about your relationship. It had to do with going public about being with you. The problem, her problem, is and always has been you.
Is she really embarrassed about you, about being with you? That's a new one... You wonder if she ever even liked you in the first place.
It feels like an eternity before either of you move again, after just looking at each other.
“W- what are you doing here?” Emily mutters and you see her wince when she realises how stupid that question was.
You scoff and narrow your eyes at her. “Looking for the exit”, you answer her, deadpan, before turning on your heels and walking back to the table where you and your team were sitting to get your things. You don't answer any of their worried questions about what was wrong, you just down the rest of your drink and grab your purse. You get your wallet out and throw a couple of bills on the table to pay for your part of the tab before you walk out of the bar without another word.
You make your way to the office right after you walked out. Last week, you had gotten the offer to transfer back to the IRT again; well, unofficially offered actually. You had only been on Hotch's team for four years; before then, you had worked under Jack Garrett for quiet some time. Occasionally, maybe twice a year, you travelled with them for consultations. So when Matt Simmons goes on paternity leave in a couple of days, you are the first person Garrett asks to come back for the time being and you were happy to do so. Garrett had called you and as you spoke you joked about feeling hurt that he only wanted to keep you for one month. And even though he was joking too when he said he'd be happy to have you back permanently, you knew he meant it.
Just last week you hadn't been sure if you wanted to stay with your current team or go back. The stack of forms that were needed to request a permanent transfer were already sitting in a drawer of your desk, all filled out. The fact that you had filled them out right after the call ended should have told you then, that you already had made up your mind.
When you reach the sixth floor, you hear the ding of the elevator softly echo through the empty halls. You make a beeline to your desk in the bull pen and fish your keys out of your purse to unlock the drawer. Just when you took out the envelope with all the forms and reach down to close the drawer again, you hear the soft ding again, followed by the sound of the doors sliding open.
Your back is turned to the doors so you don't know who walks out of the elevator; you guess it had to be someone on their way to the crime lab or something.
Until you hear your name that is, and you immediately freeze. How the fuck did she know you would be here?
You turn around and see Emily standing in the bull pen, but keeping a distance to you. “Can we talk?” She slowly walks closer and her gaze falls on the envelope. “What are you doing?”
You press the tip of your tongue to your cheek and take a second before you answer. “Paper work.”
“Paper work?”
“Yes.” You pick up your keys and start to walk towards Hotch's office. You don't want to hear what she has to say.
She says your name again and grips your arm to stop you from walking away. “It's not what you think.”
You laugh at the cliche reaction. Of course it's not what you think. It never is, isn't it?
“Okay, what is it then? Tell me”, you challenge her as you turn to look at her, your tone cold and the corners of you lips are twitching to form a bitter smile, “Go on, tell me. Because it seems pretty obvious to me.”
You twist your arm out of her grip and before she even has time to say something, you bite out: “You know what? We're not even together, I don't care what you do and who you do it with. Fuck who ever you want for all I care. Start with your- who ever she is.”
“I don't want to talk about her.”
“Oh, you don't? Too bad. What else is there to talk about then?”
For a moment she opens and closes her mouth, ending her answer before she even spoke it out loud. “I-. I want to talk about u- about you and me.”
When you don't react she nods her head, like she is confirming that you had hear right and that it was indeed what she wanted.
“Really? Now, you suddenly want to talk to me, about us?” She nods again, her eyes wide and she is giving you the best pleading puppy dog eyes she can do.
“No.”
For a moment she is taken aback and she blinks a couple of times. “No?”
You take a step back and cross your arms over your chest. “No. I don't want to talk. The only reason you want to talk, now, is because I saw you. It's too late. You had six weeks to talk, but you didn't. You're too late. I would have followed you anywhere, you know. Wherever you would want me to go. I would have followed you to the end of the fucking world and would even walk farther, falling over the edge into the abyss. I would walk through fire for you and I'd do it with a smile.”
You couldn't stop yourself from spilling it all out; and just like you can't stop the tears that started to run down your face, you can't stop talking. “You're it for me, you are the one I love. And it’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.” You sniffle and bite down on your lip. “You are the one. And if I am not to you, and you don't love me back that's fine but then at least have the balls to fucking tell me, instead of making up excuses why you don't want to tell anybody that we are seeing each other.”
She had put on a mask while you were talking, hiding her true emotions. Yet again, you wait for her to say something. And yet again all you are met with, is silence.
“Say something...”, you say, almost begging. “Just... Say something...”
Nothing. Emily stays silent and just looks at you, a vacant and unreadable expression on her face and in her eyes. The small part in you that is still wishing upon a star and is hoping, that she would come through, waited for her to talk. But it is no use. She stays silent, like all the other times in these last weeks. So much for her wanting to talk.
“Figures”, you scoff, a bitter smile stretching on your lips, and you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I should have given up on you way before I even kissed you”, you say under your breath. You aren't sure if she heard you, but in all honesty, you don't care.
Without wasting another second you turn around and walk up to Hotch's office. You place the envelope with the filled out forms for your immediate transfer in the middle of your Unit Chief's – well, ex Unit Chief's– desk. His signature being the last thing you needed before you could file the request.
You walk out of his office, not sparing even one last look at Emily, who hasn't moved. A few steps after you passed her you stop for a moment to say something for a last time, before you cross the rest of the bull pen and walk out through the glass door; leaving the BAU behind. Leaving her behind.
Two small words, nothing more..
“Goodbye Emily.”
» A/N 2: i really hope i did this justice, especially the (not) coming out parts, tbh i don't think i myself ever really came out, like 'officially', but i have always been open about being bisexual (no idea if my parents ever really connected the dots, but we're no contact either way for different reasons, so what ever) so i'm not sure how well i portrayed it; ...
🌈 Always remember, no matter if you are in the closet or not: you are worthy, you are loved and you are perfect the way you are! Stay safe. 🖤🤎🤍❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily x reader#emily prentiss fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#ghosts can write#❤️ e.p.#mentioningmargins#writing challenge#--- mismatched🧦
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5.3 Lily
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 500
Previously On...: Bucky got a call from Lily, wanting to know where he was. He lied to her, of course. That definitely won't come back to bite him in the ass.
A/N: Sorry this is so late going up! Had a last-minute Mother's Day dinner with the family, and then some quality time with @cazellen, and when you add on an hour+ drive each way, it ended up eating my entire evening. But! I wouldn't leave you hanging, so here is today's update, just... six hours late :(
Also, PLEASE NOTE: There is one more section of Chapter 5 to go up tomorrow, and then I will be taking a one-week break from posting so I can focus on writing. So, Chapter 6 will start on Sunday, May 19th. I probably will not be as active on here as I normally am, so if you send me a message and I don't respond right away, it's because I'm busy making more content for you!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Lily clutched her phone to her chest, shocked. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it. Her best friend had lied to her about what he was doing and who he was with.
She hadn’t planned on coming to the Compound that night– she’d realized she’d forgotten some files in her office that she needed to look over before she went back to work on Monday, and had just stopped in to pick them up. She figured, since she was there, she might as well go see what Bucky and Sam were up to. She didn’t want to crash their boys’ night, per se, but if they happened to invite her to join them? Well, how could she refuse such an invitation?
That’s why it came as such a shock when she rounded the corner to the rec room and saw Sam and Steve, in front of the large television, watching football together, and Bucky nowhere in sight. She hung back for a few moments, giving him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d been in the bathroom, or in the kitchen grabbing snacks. But when fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, and Bucky still hadn’t shown himself, she began to worry.
She was about to barge into the room and demand answers from Sam and Steve, when she heard them talking during a commercial break.
“So, how do you think the date’s going?” Steve asked Sam.
“Knowing Tin Man, I’d usually say ‘terribly,’” Sam said with a laugh, “but this girl seems to actually like him, so who the hell knows? I guess it depends on what time he comes home tonight… or tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?”
Lily brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp as she backed away from the entrance to the rec room.
No. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t just start seeing someone without telling her, warning her, would he?
So, she’d called him.
“I promised Sam we’d do guys’ night,” he’d told her at brunch, the lie coming so smoothly off his lips. But she’d heard a woman’s voice on the line with him.
Lies.
And then, he’d snapped “I already told you what I was doing… You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He’d never used that exasperated tone with her before. Never. And to just hang up on her, without even a proper goodbye?
She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. In their years of friendship, Bucky had never lied to her before, had he? And why? Why now? Who was this girl, and what was so fucking special about her that Bucky felt the need to lie to his best friend about her?
Lily felt like she was going to be sick.
She needed to find out who this mystery woman was, immediately. And she needed to do everything in her power to make sure Bucky never saw her again.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Boys Be Brave [EP.5] // Translation notes
I'm back with my - I guess?? - already weekly analysis of something Gaga subs might've missed in this show. Because apparently, the silly show got deeper and I'm staying here until the very end :D
First of all, I was curious and checked whether there is anything about Kiseob's illness, and there is! There are two diagnoses:
상세불명의 심실중격결손
상세불명의 심방중격결손
Unspecified Ventricular Septal Defect,
Unspecified Atrial Septal Defect
I am not a doctor definitely, but quick googling told me it's a heart defect (also called as 'a hole in the heart') which can have symptoms of heart malfunctioning. Which would! Explain even more! Why Kiseob has wrist watch that always measures his pulse and why on several occasions he was wondering why his heart was beating so fast next to Jinwoo (well, one for obvious reasons and another one is this).
And it's something you have since birth so he's been dealing with medication his entire life. Which would also explain further - after the scene with his sister - why the urge to be a people pleaser is so serious and so ingrained in him.
Another interesting language detail I noticed in this scene. Kiseob says "That's why I just agree to anything" but it doesn't translate well to english, because the verb 좋아/좋아해 can mean "I like" (eating medicine) and "I like (the idea)/I agree". So first he started lying that yes, he likes taking medicine, and that transferred to him saying that yes, he likes this, he agrees with this (whatever that is, anything he is proposed with)
"I cannot like anyone, right?"
"Why not? You're a bastard with a lot of money"
This phrase references all the previous phrases that other people used to describe Kiseob, but Balgeum doesn't sense the real problem of his friend because the phrasing is general, it can also mean 'I have no chance of loving someone', and that's why Balegum thinks it's just Kiseob having low self-esteem or something. And also to him having money = being able to love, letting himself confess and date the one he loves, so of course, that's his answer. Kiseob has a lot of money, why wouldn't he confess to Jinwoo if he likes him?
But Kiseob can't because he doesn't even know his own feelings, and everyone around tells him he doesn't have the ability to love someone.
"Giving me (toilet paper) as if I moved to a new house"
Now, I cannot be the only one thinking years ago why the hell Koreans give each other huge packages of toilet paper when they visit someone xD But this is also a cultural thing!
When your friends move to a new house, you are supposed to come with gifts and usually with very practical ones, like toilet paper (very common gift). Rich friends can give you coffee machines or humidifiers or something like that. In my country, when you visit friends (not moving houses but still), you usually bring some desserts or food to have with tea. So for some countries, toilet paper is a norm :D
Balgeum has been living in his small apartment for a long time but it's the first time Inho visits his house so he's giving it a gesture of respect (but still an awkward one).
[Interrupting my broadcast to scream about cuteness and awkwardness of Balgeum x Inho AAAAAHHHHH Now back to the schedule]
...No, we will definitely focus on scribbling over Jung Kiseob's name for 100th time, absolutely distracted from any historical knowledge going in the background ^^
Oh! By the way! I remember being surprised that, apparently, some people on social media were uncomfortable with Kiseob seemingly 'feminizing' himself to be likeable by Jinwoo. Let me tell you that no, Kiseob doesn't do that at all!
There is nothing truly that indicated that he wants to be a ideal girl for Jinwoo (who has non-gendered perfect type list as I mentioned in my previous translation notes post!). He doesn't even use typical school-girl aegyo on Jinwoo (aka acting cute), maybe a tiny bit but it's not typical and it's not usually in his language at all. He talks gently and softly a lot! But he doesn't add typical cuteness in the way he talks (like there's no pouting, mumbling words and ending sentences with -ung).
I talked about dress = one-piece = jumper suit being the same in Korean but Kiseob literally only follows what Jinwoo wrote about a person he likes (not girl). As I described it, "he's using loopholes in Jinwoo's specific list in a true himbo way" :D He doesn't really do anything girly and doesn't pretend to be a girl as I can sense.
And I don't think I need to clarify another time, but falling in love during first snow/first sight is one of Jinwoo's list. Which Kiseob already fulfilled but he doesn't know that, and he just saw Jinwoo being with Hyejin witnessing first snow, which was the last straw for him to admit his failure and give up pursuing Jinwoo.
By the way, Koreans really think the first snowfall is a romantic event, like there are saying you'll fall in love with/be happy dating with someone you'll be with during first snow^^ It comes up in many Kdramas.
#boys be brave#boys be brave comments#kbl#korean bl#dropthemeta#dropthemeta kbl#learning languages#korean language#translation notes#language details#lost in translation#jinwoo x kiseob#inho x balgeum
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Hellooo!!! I have a question for the two goobers: Would Nak/Kreuger rather go to a museum (weither it be art, historical, etc) or a zoo (Or something simular like an aquarium or a butterfly garden)?
Does KruegerNak prefer Museums or the Zoo?
Howdy Mishap! I'm personally a fan of both so it got me thinking a bit! Here's them at my visit to the modern art museum last year :) Thanks so much for the ask! 💞💞💞
I feel like neither but both at the same time xD. Each place is catered to their specific interests. But they both have things they enjoy about each trip :3
My headcanon, half of Krueger's family (Dad side) are part of "higher society" + being naturally artistic, he enjoys museums, contemporary art, etc.
Nak is still technically considered "New Money" because of Naga, plus how she was raised, she really doesn't see anything cool in art museums or museums in general. She's willing to go with him because it's something he enjoys, and she likes walking beside him as he explains each piece. She really enjoys how smart he is when he wants to be.
Nak likes animals so zoos, aquariums, etc. are enjoyable for her, she likes pointing at the ones that she thinks look like him, and there are slightly less restrictions in there unlike the museum (Don't touch the paintings, don't stand too close, etc.)
Since Krueger is rather indifferent about most animals, that feeling naturally transfers over to zoos. He'll find other ways to entertain himself there by taking pictures of the plants or being the Map Man. He'll go to the zoo or aquarium with Nak because he likes seeing her happy and excited :D (Sorry if it doesn't make sense)
Their Interaction at an Art Museum usually goes like this...
Who's Afraid of Red, Yellow and Blue III - Barnett Newman
"It's..red."
"And.."
"And blue."
"Can you see the yellow?"
"I think..? It blends in with the red."
"The paint is so fine that it morphs into the canvas."
"Uh huh... I could probably do that."
"You couldn't, someone tried."
"Did they?"
"Mhmm. Someone slashed the canvas, the restorer thought it'd be easy to fix, it came out worse and people got mad."
"How'd it come out worse?."
"Glad you asked"
(He then goes on a looong tangent, she listens of course)
And the zoo..
"Se, Look, look! he's drinking water!"
"Yea, Want to see something cool?"
"Yeah?"
He takes a sip from a bottle of water, promptly closing the cap, proud of himself with a grin.
"Swoon."
"You know I can throw you in there."
"Yes."
"Want me to?"
"Maybe. But I wanted to take you to see the big cats."
"...I'll throw you later."
(after a while, she finds him a shady area to rest a bit, she knows he's a bit tired from walking around so much)
"Did you get any good photos?"
"Of you or the animals?"
"Both."
"..Most of what's in here are plants."
"That's good too."
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#art#digital art#phayvanh nak sotsvahn#sebastian krueger#cod krueger#cod nak#kruegernak#artwork#call of duty oc#call of duty original character#cod original character#cod mw oc#original character#oc x canon#oc x cc#fanart
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This is so stupid and you probably can't but can you help me find the deity that fits me? I stopped worshipping three bc I just didn't have a bond with them
Hey, Nonny!
I'm certain I've answered a very similar question recently, but for the life of me, I can't seem to find the post. 💀 I'm just going to restate the information I remember giving, since I can't link it. I obviously can't know which deity you'll feel a connection to, but I'll give the best advice I can think of to hopefully offer you a place to start.
The first thing I'd do is make a list of things that genuinely interest you. I'm talking about hobbies, passions, inspirations, interests, topics you study - that kind of thing. After that, make a list of things you feel you need help with or would like to personally work on. Habits you'd like to stop, flaws you'd like to improve on, traits you want to strengthen, goals you want to achieve, current struggles that you're facing - that sort of thing. You can be as detailed or simple as you want; these lists don't have to be super long or fancy.
The next thing I'd do is look into the deities within the pantheon I'm interested in. Search terms like "Greek god of medicine", for example, and you're likely to find at least one result. I would try to keep your search terms broad, however; I wouldn't search up extremely niche topics. If you can't find anything under those search terms, look up a general list of the deities within that pantheon and go through them. Look at any names that seem to stick out to you more than the others. This part of the process would likely take the most time and effort.
After that, I'd make a list of the deities that interest me. Try to look at deities who are involved with the topics you enjoy or could potentially help you with whatever you want to work on. For example, let's say you enjoy writing. You may want to try reaching out to Lord Hermes, who has a domain within language and communication. You could also reach out to one of the Muses, who often aid with creative endeavors. Try finding deities that are related to the topics that you made lists for, and see what you've got.
When the list of deities is made, I'd start reaching out! Reach out to the deities who call to you the most to start. Which names stand out to you? Which deities are the most involved with your interests? Look for deities you think you'd get along well with.
I will say that it's important to remember that bonds take time to form. You're not likely to find a deity you just immediately click with; it tends to take time to form a deep and strong connection. Sometimes we do find a deity who we feel a more immediate bond with or feel called to worship, but that's not always the case, and that's entirely normal. Just like any human relationship, deity relationships develop over time with lots of care, communication, and time spent together.
The last thing I want to mention is that you're also welcome to worship deities just because you think they're cool. You don't need any other reason than that to simply reach out and say hello. Every deity I've met seems to enjoy having a worshipper who truly appreciates them. c:
I hope this is helpful and can offer you some guidance on where you can try to start! At the end of the day, this is just a suggestion, and you absolutely don't have to do things this way if you don't find it helpful. Regardless, I wish you the best of luck on this new journey. Take care, and I'm sure you'll find a deity you feel a connection to soon. Have a good day/night. 🧡
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hey.
would you like to hear an xtale siblings thought?
rhetorical question.
(abuse mention bc its the fucking xtale siblings)
so. according to jakei (via cornmayors twitter), xpapyrus is "the kind of person who would harvest his own food", which is pretty cute i think. ik corn has a comic abt xasriel being into gardening, and i think theres some canon stuff that might support that, too? so yeah neat, papyrus and asriel/flowey friendship prevails!! they have a common interest/hobby, thats pretty cute, yknow?
but like. i was thinking, right? what would make xpap want to garden? not that he necessarily needs a reason, but..
and i mean the (possible) explanation is pretty damn clear. its been shown before that xgaster doesnt care abt his kids and doesnt seem to provide for them most of the time. im guessing they went hungry a lot as kids.
and like xpap has been shown to be more outspoken, defying orders and/or talking back on multiple occasions (sometimes making cross step in to "correct" him to avoid or at least soften xgasters wrath), so i think if he was hungry hed just say it, and depending on his mood xgaster would either tell him thats not his problem or begrudgingly give them something (or make xalphys go buy food or cook or whatever)
but cross? cross wouldnt say a fucking word. he could be dying of starvation and hed say hes just fine to avoid the potential punishment of "inconveniencing" xgaster
so like. im thinking. what if xpap started growing his own food because he didnt want to be so dependent on someone who couldnt be assed to provide for them? because he was tired of going hungry and being punished for trying to get the only person who could do something abt that to actually... do something? because he was tired of seeing his brother suffer in silence because he was too scared to say anything?
i can see him finding some like.. tomato seeds or something. maybe just planting a slice from food xgaster finally brought them in the hope that it grows into a plant eventually. cross would definitely help him care for the plants. maybe xalphys would occasionally bring him books about gardening or new seeds or just tell him general knowledge so he could more successfully grow things.
idk like. we see a lot of cross caring for xpap (bc of course he would, hes his older brother), but xpap explicitly caring for and providing for cross in return makes me bash my head into the wall /pos like ik thats normal. to yknow. care for and provide for your family. but god damn.
they make me violently ill.
(this was very xpap centric bc im very normal abt him (lie) hope youre ok w that)
vomits glitter everywhere youre soright..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also dont worry ily xpapyrus ilysm..... xpapyrus u deserved better... i love any characters from any au theyre all so cool....
UGHHHHHHHHHH i love it when younger siblings take care of the older ones,,, ugh.. .., i mean xalphys is the youngest of the three, meaning papyrus would technically be the middle sibling but yk what. that makes it better actully imo. middle sibling takes ccare of the other two.
ANYWAY yes. xpap is the most outspoken, as you said, out of them all about xgaster's mistreatment. while cross is silent and alphys is indifferent (outwardly) towards xgaster, xpapyrus is the one with the strongest sense of justice. cross is anxious, xalphys pretty much had her will to fight stripped away from her, but xpapyrus still has that spark in him, and that spark remains despite everything. he'd tell xgaster that he's hungry, because he's hungry, dammit, and if xgaster doesn't feed him, he'll take matters into his own hands. i can imagine xgaster picking a burger up for him after hours of nagging, and xpapyrus plants the whole tomato slice in a bunch of dirt in a tupperware bowl for later.
xpapyrus would defend those plants with his life if he had to because to him, as a child, i think they'd be synonymous with 'he doesn't have complete power over us. look, this is something i did on my own, something he doesn't control'. it would be the first bit of independence he's ever really had. xasriel probably helped as well because he thought it was just a fun hobby of xpapyrus' and not a means to not starve. this also probably helped cement xpapyrus and cross' loyalty to the dreemurr family,,
im ill about them too UGH.... the xtale siblings (+ chara/frisk) are my favorites ever and i just...man!!! the way xgaster abused them all in so many different ways is SO overlooked in this fandom and its my number one duty to make sure eveyrone knows how terrible xgaster is,,.!!! hes a child beater!!!!!!! cross, xpapyrus, xchara, xfrisk, and probably xalphys were beaten children!!!!!!
#rambling again#its my favorite au... xtale..wow...#xtale papyrus#xpapyrus#xalphys#xtale alphys#cross sans#xtale#underverse#utmv#undertale#xgaster#cw neglect#cw child abuse#cw child neglect
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I've seen this thrown around the TADC fandom space but I wanted to compile something with Episode 2 out now about how Pomni may be inspired by Babette from the Raggedy Ann Movie + what that could mean for the future of her character
-She's a new toy to the playroom like how Pomni is a new character to the circus
-Andy reacts almost with the exact same words Jax used when reacting to Pomni for the first time, basically complaining they have a new toy/character
-Obsessed with going back to Paris (Pomni was obsessed with finding an exit)
-Ann tries desperately to be her friend only for her advances to come off sorta wishy washy...sounds exactly like what Ragatha is trying to do with Pomni
-Eventually Babette gets whisked away (like how Pomni keeps getting separated from the group)
When Ann and Andy go to find her, they find out she became the captain of a pirate ship and is trying to go back to Paris...which makes me think something crazy is going to happen similar to this...Pomni might try to take over the circus so she can find the exit because, going off Episode 2, she has some general knowledge on game design (calling the area she and Gummigoo end up at 'under the map', knowing how assets are stored under the map and that collision on the trucks was glitchy being how they clipped down)
Since Gooseworx has mentioned Pomni has a side to her we haven't seen, I'm anticipating something exciting...
#tadc#the amazing digital circus#pomni#raggedy ann#babette#theory#idk if this is real or not but it would be cool
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So, let's say George Lucas was more self aware producing/directing the prequels and hired you to reign him in/keep him on track. How would the prequels be different?
What a fucking FUN question. :D I've been chewing over this in my inbox for a couple days.
Honestly you couldn't pay me enough to write for Star Wars, and that's not just because I'd be fired on my second day for making it so gay. I think there absolutely are problems in the prequels, but I also think no matter what films they made, it was going to be a difficult tango of trying to keep an existing fanbase happy while attracting new ones, doing the old story homage but also not just retreading stale territory, and the fact that an entire generation came up with headcanons for what the Clone Wars or young Obi-Wan or Vader was like in that era, and no matter what you do, someone was going to be disappointed.
I also have a ton of sympathy for Star Wars writers in general - I see stories like Mike Chen who wrote the Brotherhood novel having to get the book together in three months over 11 drafts or the Rebels writers working unpaid nights and weekends to try to land the story they loved decently because they weren't given enough time or money. I don't know what it's like to write or create content for Lucasfilm, but I can't help but think of Warren Fu, who created the iconic General Grievous design for Lucas, later drawing himself as Sifo-Dyas being drained of blood to create Grievous. The metaphor he chose there is, um, interesting, to say the least, and I wonder how it reflects on his time at Lucasfilm. I see these anecdotes all the time of writers and creators working incredibly hard for little money or recognition and then their passion project gets changed or sidelined by the powers that be within the franchise.
ANYWAY THAT SAID HERE'S HOW I'D FIX THE PREQUELS-
I think it's really a matter of redrafting what's there because so much of it is really good and has great potential. I just rewatched the Phantom Menace, so that's on my mind. Yeah, I remember being little enough that Jar Jar Binks was funny to me - I love Ahmed Best - but having just rewatched it, Jar Jar gets a ton of screentime and that could be better balanced. AND oofa-doofa, the racist accents/stereotypes. Cut cut cut. Rework.
Otherwise, I think there's a tendency - and some of it was the popular movie tropes at the time the films were going out - to rely on Idiot Plot. OOPS, Anakin didn't mean to go to the big space battle!!! He just won the day on accident!! To a lesser degree, many other characters make it through the movie by just sort of guessing and lucking their way into it as a narrative choice. Just going by the fact that the films need to be about the good guys losing because it's a prequel for a saga with no Jedi, I'd like a little bit more agency for them. More moments of saying "yes, I want to do this" and less "wow, what the hell is going on?!"
The other big change I'd make is give Obi-Wan a much larger role in the Phantom Menace, and Padme a bigger part in both AotC and especially RotS. (Actually, she really kicks ass in TPM. That moment where she shoots through the window and the duel of the fates music swells? Ascension guns!! I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.) I think Anakin is the most sympathetic when he's seen through the eyes of characters who love him and vouch for him. And Obi-Wan is honestly barely in TPM - it's all Qui-Gon, who I love, but I could see the film being really successful through him as our perspective/focus character instead. The way that Luke Skywalker takes us with him on this adventure and shows us the story. Obi-Wan could do that very effectively. And as much as the prequels are about Anakin's fall, they're also ultimately a story of Obi-Wan's survival.
And I'd cut Count Dooku, for no reason other than I don't like how weird I got about that guy.
#jess fixes the prequels#you heard it here first#and of fucking course I'm kidding about Dooku#I can get much weirder still#star wars prequels#the phantom menace#star wars#star wars meta#obi wan kenobi
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My Borrowed Son | 21 | Lyn-ding A Hand
Chapter Twenty-One | Lyn-ding A Hand
The summer came and went and, before he knew it, Parker was a sophomore in high school as a thirteen year old boy.
The fallout with Selina had almost no affect on the overall friend group except for Spencer, who decided to stay with the friend group despite his twin sister’s pouting. Spencer said that his sister was just trying to be nosey and that while she did have a massive crush on Parker, he knew because she wouldn’t shut up about it, it was only part of her motivation to ask Parker to be her boyfriend.
Her curiosity got the better of her and it divided some of the friends for a short time while their versions of the event circulated.
Regardless, summer made for some great movie nights for the group of childhood friends and all of them managed to find time to see Parker virtually. There were large gaps of time where Parker wouldn’t hear from anyone, but that was okay.
The incident with Selina made Parker feel a bit more reserved and protective of himself, specifically about his condition. More time was dedicated to writing and studying late in the evenings because of it. The fallout initially left a bit of a hole in Parker’s chest, but it was something Parker felt himself getting over quickly.
Selina always had a flare for the dramatic and now was no exception.
Parker also knew that the frustration of people not knowing about his condition and keeping it a secret would take its toll on him. It made him feel lonely and guarded, which combined during the new school year as Parker being a lot more quiet than he was in his previous grades.
Some of his friends did ask why he was reluctant and if he felt comfortable with sharing more, but Parker quickly shut all of it down and retracted into himself.
That is… until it came time to partner up in one of his English literature classes.
Parker had hoped that he might be left to his own devices and write a story on his own, but there was an even number of students in the class which dashed his hopes. Parker sighed and leaned back in his chair. If he knew the general pattern, he would be writing the entire story alone along with the report and someone else would get a piece of the grade he earned.
As his teacher read off the names of his fellow classmates, Parker heard his name called along with the name of a girl he had become acquainted with last year because of her writing. They had actually been at the same middle school as well and even shared a few classes now that Parker thought about it. They had never officially met, but that didn’t stop him from knowing her name.
Lyndsie Sullivan.
She was a bit of a quiet, pensive girl, but her poetry was absolutely flawless. It reflected a spunky, upbeat kind of girl who was mature far beyond her years. Parker didn’t need to be an adult to tell that Lyndsie was well spoken and knew exactly what she wanted and was willing to wait or do whatever was necessary to have it.
She also had a subtle boldness about her. During a few instances where one of the other students was being picked on, it was Lyndsie who helped come to that student’s aid. There was a subtle intimidation that loomed behind her bright green eyes, and she knew it.
So, when Parker heard his name paired with hers, Parker felt a mild sense of unease settle over him. There was something about her that, when they had class discussion together, that made Parker feel like Lyndsie could see right through the camera.
Still, this was just for class. He wasn’t going to talk to her outside of class. They were meant to talk for assignments and that was all.
Lyndsie came over to her new desk in front of Parker’s camera that was set up in class and smiled politely as she organized all of her books and notes on the desk.
“Hey, Parker. It’s nice to meet you finally,” smiled Lyndsie. “I think we’ve had a few classes together last year and in middle school, but we’ve just been ships passing in the night.” Parker looked into her eyes and saw a bright spark of creativity blooming in those green eyes of hers.
He smiled back politely, readjusting his tie and nodded. “Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. It’s nice to meet you too Lyndsie.”
“Lyn, please,” emphasized Lyndsie as she began tying her thick brown hair into a low bun. “Don’t get me wrong. I like my name, but I let my friends go by my nickname.” Parker snorted in amusement.
“Are we friends?” he asked. Lyn smiled and leaned forward on the desk, resting her chin onto the palm of her propped up hand.
“I think so. We have each other’s names and we’ve had a few classes together. We just need to find out our favorite colors and we’re basically besties,” grinned Lyn. “Unless you’re not comfortable with that and prefer to be strictly professional; but where’s the fun in that?”
Parker felt his cheeks getting a bit warm. Something about her features and her easygoing personality suddenly made him remember those nervous butterflies he felt when he and Selina talked all those months ago and, instantly, he felt himself wanting to retract. The last time he was asked his favorite color was when Selina went into that random rant about how boyfriends and girlfriends told each other things, and Parker didn’t want a repeat performance.
“Um… well… we’re at school and it’s supposed to be more professional,” stated Parker. Lyn sighed before shrugging her shoulders and snagging what looked like a fountain pen from her desk.
“Fair enough, Mr. Silverstein. Now, onto the assignment. We don’t have a lot of time in class to finish discussing what our story is going to be about, and I don’t want to have to work extra after school on something we could’ve knocked out right here and now,” stated Lyn as she began making notes at the top of the page.
Her go get em attitude was something Parker wasn’t familiar with from his fellow students. Many of them took their education seriously, yes; however, it was usually Parker who had to bring the conversation back on track. Rarely did they delve immediately into the assignment.
It was also odd that Lyn didn’t ask anything about his condition. Parker’s experience was that ninety-nine percent of people, when one-on-one, would ask him at least something about why he was behind the camera at home and not in class.
Not her.
It was, in a word, refreshing, and soon Parker found himself enthralled in their conversation about what kind of story they were going to create for their literature course.
“So, part of the rubric says that we have to do extensive research in the area of our choosing. It must be ‘historically accurate’ within reason for a fantasy novel. So, to me, this could mean a lot of things, and I can send an email regarding it, but I’m thinking that we need to find something we’re both interested in that could potentially involve a lot of research.
“We also need to cite our sources for whatever we choose, which will be fun. So, what do you want to do some research on? What do we want our story to be about?” asked Lyn as she tore her eyes away from the screen and onto Parker.
Parker, whose eyes were mostly scanning the rubric, glanced over to catch her eyes again. A shiver crawled down his spine as he glanced back at the digital checklist their story needed to achieve.
“Well, I know what I would want to do, but it’s not for everyone,” muttered Parker as an idea was already formulating in his mind.
“Oh? Let’s hear it. No bad ideas, relatively speaking,” stated Lyn.
Parker bit his lip and glimpsed his space poster in the corner of his study room. He sighed and thought there was no harm in suggesting it. It was an idea he had already, but he planned on this being part of an independent series he would publish on his own.
“Well… okay… hear me out…” started Parker before taking a breath before the plunge. “I’m really into space and satellites and everything. Could we do some kind of space adventure?” Lyn hummed contemplatively before nodding slowly.
“I… think we could do something with that. I don’t know much about space. Would this be about some kind of technology AI thing that finds a civilization? Or is it like Star Trek where you’ve got a captain of a ship and they go exploring around?”
“Um… maybe a mix of the two? I was just thinking about topics in general,” said Parker, surprised that Lyn was so easily convinced. Lyn hummed again and scribbled something into her notebook.
Passively, she remarked, “Personally, I’m kind of into pirates and all of that. Hey! If you’re not totally sold on a futuristic era, do you want to do a little combination of the two ideas? We have precedence with that one show ‘Firefly.’ Have you ever seen it?”
Parker had actually seen the show recently, but he didn’t see the very end of it because he had just started it.
“You want to do space pirate cowboys?” asked Parker, finding the idea amusing and alluring at the same time.
“Something like that. ‘Firefly’ mixed with a touch of ‘Treasure Planet’ and all of a sudden we have a hit. What do you think? Originality points and all that. Plus, we can each do research and break up the work if we want. I don’t know. What are your thoughts?” asked Lyn.
Parker thought about her proposition and already his mind was coming up with a bunch of fun ideas. He could see a crew of space pirates going around breaking all of the rules on different planets but also helping everyone. A kind of Robin Hood like character came to mind, and Parker found himself not opposed to the concept.
“Alright,” he said finally, noticing that Lyn had torn her eyes away from her writing to look up at him. “Sure. Let’s try it out.”
A beaming smile from Lyn suddenly made Parker’s cheeks very warm all of a sudden, making him look away from the camera as he quickly tapped away on his keyboard and shared his screen as a document.
It took only ten minutes for the two of them to come up with a solid concept for a story.
Together, they decided that the Galactic Federation, the overall ruling governmental body of the Interstellar Collective, had been corrupted by career politicians who had forgotten what it was like to scrape up a living. As a result, piracy and black markets blossomed in the oddest places – and space was no exception.
Captain Orion Zane, a charismatic leader with a true heart of gold, decided he wouldn’t stand for the injustice. He and a group of eleven others ran a ship that they collectively named “Karma” to intercept convoy ships and break up blockades of oppressive spaceships.
The announcement of class ended their creative flow, but Lyn offered her number and Discord username if Parker wanted to add her as a friend and talk more about the story later. In the meantime, she would start investigating the definition of “pirate,” marine laws that would apply in international waters as well as space, and weapons that traditional pirates used to see what they could futurize.
“Okay. Sounds like a plan to me. I’ll talk to you later Parker. I mean… Mr. Silverstein,” said Lyn.
“Bye, Lyn. Oh… sorry… Ms. Sullivan,” said Parker before exiting to the lobby and preparing for his next class.
For whatever reason, Parker suddenly found himself completely distracted for the rest of the day. He was researching space during math and history, and when he wasn’t doing that he was thinking about the way Lyn looked at him over the screen.
Every time he thought about her, everything in him tingled and made him almost uncomfortably warm. What was almost alarming was that Parker liked this feeling. Just thinking about her dark green eyes flicking up from her paper made him shiver.
Class continued as normal, and Parker found himself eagerly awaiting his English class just to talk to Lyn again. He even dared to add her on Discord so the two of them could talk after school ended. Their conversation were primarily about their collective story, but the conversation would often drift to other topics by the end of the evening when they had to go finish work or eat dinner.
Parker liked talking to Lyn. There was something about her that drew him in regardless of topic. What made it better was that they were similarly aligned in how they thought class should be conducted, what they thought about different elements of life, and even their favorite activities which were numerous and all over the place.
She was a fascinating person to talk to, and Parker realized later that his face would ache from how much he was smiling.
It wasn’t until dinner nearly four weeks later that Parker found himself snapped out of his stupor when his mom asked how he was feeling and if there was anything wrong.
“Your cheeks are so pink. You’re not running a fever, are you?” she noticed as she dished out a bit of fish, greens, and rice into a small dish for Parker.
“Oh um… well… I was just thinking,” said Parker.
“Thinking? About what?” asked his mom. Parker took the dish and sat down at his place on the table while his mom fixed herself a plate.
“Well… we got new partners today for English class and… well… she’s… really nice…” said Parker. The gleam in his mom’s eyes was undeniable as she sat down at the table and smiled knowingly.
“Oh? She?” prompted his mom. Parker felt his cheeks blushing harder than ever. He knew he must look as red as a cherry tomato as he quickly blessed his food and began eating.
“Y-yeah,” he said as he shoveled a part of rice into his mouth.
“Really? What’s her name?” asked his mom. Parker knew he was busted at this point. It wasn’t like he was keeping a lot of secrets from his mom, but he also didn’t mention his adventure into the walls or the breakup with Selina.
He licked his lips and kept his eyes averted ever so slightly, wondering why he was feeling suddenly shy about talking to his mom, as he said, “Lyn. Technically, it’s Lyndsie Sullivan, but she likes her friends to call her Lyn.”
Amanda smiled as she brought her cup up to her lips and took a drink. Parker unknowingly had been talking a lot about Lyn recently, but the context was usually class and how good she was at pretty much everything. Amanda suspected Parker might be developing his first real crush, but actually hearing it was both exciting and worrisome.
Amanda worried about when this day would happen. She wanted her son to develop feelings for someone in his own time, but she also knew the complications of his size when talking to someone who was much bigger than he was. There were so many factors when developing a crush and getting into a relationship, and Parker’s size was one of those factors; though he didn’t really know it yet.
It wasn’t something that would come up in normal conversation. Plus, there were complications when it came to how tall Parker was.
It pained Amanda to no end, but a worry she had was that Parker wouldn’t find someone his size who he would like.
Now wasn’t the time to talk about that – or maybe it was.
She would have to read some of her parenting books later to see how to talk about these topics with Parker later tonight.
In the meantime, she decided to celebrate his feelings and encourage him. These feelings were natural after all.
“Well, Lyn sounds like a wonderful girl,” remarked Amanda. At this, Parker’s eyes changed. His mom swore she saw what she could only describe as “dream eyes” as Parker thought about his friend.
“Yeah, she’s great. She’s into photography and showed me some of her stuff. It’s really awesome. She does these cool perspective shots of flowers and all sorts of other things. I need to show you some of the things she sent over Discord,” said Parker, a bit too eagerly as he suddenly realized and went back to eating, cheeks bright scarlet.
“Yeah?” asked Amanda, hoping to prompt further reaction from her son. Sadly, Parker only elaborated a little as they finished their meal together. Parker was in a bit of a hurry because, according to him, he had an important assignment he needed to finish before the end of the night, but Amanda suspected that Parker simply wanted to get online and see if Lyn was online and available to chat.
He excused himself from the table hurriedly and vanished back to his room, jogging to cross the floor and taking the stairs two at a time to make it back to his space.
Amanda cleaned up after dinner, conflicting emotions swirling inside her. It was only a matter of time before Parker started asking the hard questions about why he couldn’t go see Lyn in person.
Drying her hands on a crumpled dish towel, Amanda retreated to her own room to do some research about talking to your children about difficult topics such as puberty, romance, and, most crushing of all, adoption.
~~~^*^*^~~~
“Well, I think we’ve got the chapters outlined well enough. How did your research go by the way? Did you find the original case about space being international waters?” asked Lyn. She was laying on her stomach with her laptop propped up on some pillows and a lap desk as she scribbled and wrote in her notebook. Their conversation had been going on for three hours after dinner, and both of them were obviously starting to droop. Still, neither wanted to be the first to relent and hang up first.
“Yeah, I did actually. It’s actually kind of a combination between two or three different laws if I’m reading everything correctly. One of them is the Outer Space Treaty, the Accords, and the Moon Treaty. There are a bunch of laws and rules to go along with it which I have in the shared document I shared with you,” replied Parker as he stifled a yawn.
“Oh, perfect! I love it when nerds to their work,” teased Lyn as she made a goofy face at the camera.
“Ha ha. I could say the same to you. How much did you have written about pirates in your math class when you were supposed to be paying attention? I know because I checked the document and saw you typing away as soon as we left English,” Parker said, flipping the tables on Lyn.
“Oh! You hush! I passed my test with flying colors, didn’t I?” she shot back. Parker chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah. Like you said. Nerd.”
Lyn rolled her eyes and vanished from view as she stretched before popping back up to the camera. They stared at one another for a minute in silence, each holding the other’s gaze, before bashfully glancing away simultaneously.
It took another minute before Lyn looked back at Parker and cleared her throat, obviously preparing to ask a question. “Um… Parker? Do you… mind if I ask you something?”
The tiredness banished instantly from Parker’s eyes as the question sank in. This was something he usually asked his mom, and she usually replied with “you can ask me anything,” but only now did Parker realize how nerve wracking that question could actually be.
He bit his lip, feeling himself bristle and those precious walls he had slowly lowered begin to raise once more.
“Um… yeah? I mean, I guess. What’s up?” asked Parker. In the back of his mind, a flashback of Selina’s conversation ran right through him. Was Lyn about to ask him if he liked her? Was she going to ask if they wanted to be boyfriend girlfriend only to immediately turn it on him? Was she going to ask about his condition? Would she ask why he wasn’t ever at school? What if she wanted to meet up to write together in person or study together?
His nerves started to make him squirm and sweat. Parker honestly didn’t think it was that noticeable until he saw Lyn’s curious expression.
“You okay?” she asked. “I mean that’s not my question, but you’re acting a bit weird all of a sudden. You can say no, ya goof.”
Parker squirmed again and tried to shake his nerves away.
“Um… no. I mean, I’m okay. It’s just that the question could mean anything, so I’m just preparing for whatever,” mumbled Parker. Lyn eyed him again but shrugged and continued.
“Well, you can always say no or abstain from answering. I hope you know that,” stated Lyn in her usual matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.”
Parker held his breath as Lyn eyed the camera and watched Parker’s reaction to her question.
“Are you the author of ‘Welcome to My Little Life’?”
The question threw him so off guard that his expression was obviously a dead giveaway. Relief. Curiosity. Excitement. Nervousness.
“Um… yeah. I mean, of course. It’s just a bit of a side project and everything, but I like posting there. It’s a good space for exposure and everything,” Parker replied. The tenseness in his body dissipated and the young teen could once again relax with his friend.
The look on Lyn’s face mirrored his own as she propped herself up closer to the camera, saying, “I knew it! I mean, I thought it was you, but didn’t want to make things weird or bring it up. Dude! I totally follow you for your story about your Dungeons and Dragons character. Tal’el, right?”
Parker had never really met someone who knew about his blog. He’d chatted with his followers like Karl, Zel, and so many others, but never someone he was already friends with.
“No kidding?” asked Parker in a bit of disbelief. “You like it?”
“Dude! Of course! And you’ve liked some of my stuff too. I posted some pictures and you liked them. That’s why I wanted to ask – to see if you knew,” said Lyn. “I’m Lyn_see Photography.”
Parker felt his eyes go wide as he remembered the exact posts Lyn was talking about. The perspectives Lyn took was from the edge of a television stand that showed the depth and vastness of the living room while keeping everything in focus.
“That’s you? Dude! No way! I thought the style looked like yours, but I didn’t know that was you!”
The two of them laughed at the strange coincidence.
“How’d you even manage that perspective?” asked Parker.
“HDR mode. Basically had to take two identical pictures and blend them together,” said Lyn. “I could show you one of these days on my camera. I also had to blend it in Procreate, but it didn’t require a lot of editing which was nice.”
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” agreed Parker, the last of his tension leaving his body.
“Definitely,” grinned Lyn. “If you don’t mind my follow-up question, but you looked tense earlier? What was that all about?”
Parker squirmed again and tried to shrug it off as he contemplated his reply. Bringing it up might pick at the scab that was over the sensitive spot surrounding his whole interaction with Selina and not telling her more about his condition. He didn’t want to lose Lyn as a friend and he wanted to keep his condition close to his chest, but he also wanted to trust Lyn. She was someone who he cared about.
Selina was right about one thing – you tell people you trust.
And Parker felt like he could trust Lyn; at least, he thought he could trust her enough to talk about it a little.
“Well, I mean… I thought you were going to ask about my… condition,” said Parker. He braced himself for whatever Lyn was going to say next and hoped he hadn’t accidentally ruined something good.
“Oh, that makes sense. I mean, I’m sure it’s a sensitive thing for you and everything,” replied Lyn. “Did… someone try and pry?”
Parker felt himself nodding before he even realized he was responding.
“I see. Well, I’m sorry that happened. I mean, I can’t say that I’m not curious, but I wouldn’t go asking questions unless you wanted to talk about something about it. I hope you’d be comfortable enough to talk about it with me if you needed to,” stated Lyn.
Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Was it that easy?
An announcement of curiosity accompanied with an invitation to refuse.
The smile that spread onto Parker’s face stretched from ear to ear as another wave of genuine relief filled him. This was exactly what he hoped Selina would say, and now he was hearing it from Lyn – someone who he cared about very much despite knowing her for such a short time.
“I… yeah… I would feel comfortable with that… you know… if I needed to talk about it and everything,” muttered Parker. Was it warm in the room? Or was it just him? There was a moment where the two of them made eye-contact through the lens of the camera and, for a moment, Parker could have sworn she was right there looking at him.
His entire body felt tingly and excited. It felt like electricity was filling his body, pouring itself over him and making his heart race and pound.
Another minute passed before Lyn cleared her throat and continued their conversation.
“Good. Now, you have to tell me more about your story and where it’s going to go. I swear your updates are so chaotic that it drives me crazy. What’s going to happen with that princess? And is he going to cure the plague going through the community? I have to know!”
Parker laughed and shook his head.
“You know I can’t spoil anything,” Parker teased.
“Oh! Spoil sport! You’re either saying it because you’re cruel and want to torture me or because you don’t know the answer!” accused Lyn, obviously playing in a tone that made Parker’s heart race.
The two of them continued talking for the next hour where, reluctantly, Parker revealed a few details of his story to appease Lyn before the two of them signed off simultaneously, accidentally falling asleep for a moment before startling awake and saying goodnight. Parker crawled into his bed, face hurting from smiling so much, and drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
Continue | Coming Soon
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#borrower#g/t#g/t community#borrowers#giant/tiny#handheld#giant tiny#tiny#giant#gianttiny#My Borrowed Son#Parker#narrans#the borrowers#gt fluff#gt writing#gt community#g/t writing#g/t fluff#g/t author#g/t concept#g/t comfort#g/t characters#g/t related#g/t romance#g/t idea#g/t interaction#sfw g/t#sfw giant/tiny#Welcome to my little life
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OOOOOH.. any of the hunters + irene breeding kink for request
(because you're a goated polyshipper like me...you get laurentina/irene/skadi sandwich. love and kisses)
...
Perhaps Irene's time with the Abyssal Hunters had neutered her fears in a way that others had not experienced. She has always been one to speak her mind in the first place, and when she observes-on multiple occasions!-Skadi dismissing herself from a talk with Laurentina the moment Irene arrives, she begins to wonder at it. Laurentina's musical giggles and the barely-masked scowl it incurs from Skadi sit Irene with the all-too-familiar sense of having things unsaid about oneself in thinly-veiled secret.
She's been singled out before, during her studies. She should be used to it.
But perhaps, she expected a little better of her newer peers.
So she steels her resolve and confronts her directly, on a whim, in the corridor.
"Skadi. You have been avoiding me, and I would very much like to know why."
"I've been avoiding you because I want to get you pregnant."
A beat.
"E-Excuse me!?"
This time, Laurentina is the one to excuse herself. She grins and hoists the hem of her skirt with a sweeping curtsy and a mirthful smile, dipping around from Skadi as she exits the conversation-
Or at least, she tries.
"Y-You! You stay put-you're, you owe me some explanations too-" Irene fumes, her face burning hot, still reeling from Skadi's blunt remark.
"Oh my, such an aggressive little birdie today. But I don't think staying would be very wise of me-"
Irene did not think it possible for Skadi's face to ever entertain an expression that could plead for mercy. And yet, that is exactly how she looked as she turned her gaze to Laurentina with haste.
"Please."
It takes Irene aback to see her ask so plainly, even though saying things plainly is what she knows her for.
Laurentina smiles and acquiesces, much to Skadi's visible relief.
"Then let's take this conversation somewhere more private, shall we?"
...
"-It's something of a leftover gene with our less-Aegir side. It's quite troublesome, especially for a certain Orca that says things as she thinks of them." Laurentina finishes the explanation, mercifully succinct, and without too much teasing.
"It's frustrating," Skadi's voice is tense, cutting in sharply, "I don't even have the anatomy to make it happen. But it aches all the same."
"...I see." Irene wonders whether it was the best idea to have this conversation in Skadi's room, in full view of the bed.
Not out of any concern that something would-happen. She just thinks-
How awful it is, to be without control over one's body. How painful, to have to resist those urges, to constantly expend energy in such a way.
And...
How flattering, that all this time, what she'd mistaken for being made fun of in secret had turned out to be admiration, even if it were only because of some physiological response.
What should she even suggest?
"Is there nothing I can do to help?..."
Irene doesn't realize she's wondered it out loud until she glances up and sees Laurentina hide a smile behind her hand.
"Or-I mean!" Irene's face warms instantly as Skadi regards her, "It-doesn't need to be me, if you don't want-"
"I do."
"Excuse me?"
"I am attracted to you. You bled two weeks ago. You're fertile-"
"H-H-How do you-?!"
"Sharks can tell." Skadi answers her outburst calmly. Laurentina's smile is wider, if a little guiltier for it. "And-"
"I-I'm-" Irene's mind reels, feeling like she's reacting to each point in halved time. She doesn't even have the chance to be outraged or indignant-it's all just shock.
Skadi closes in, her presence slow and calm, like she's come to some determinations about her in the last few minutes on her own.
"-Willing. Aren't you?"
Skadi's hand closes around one of Irene's, and she brings the back of it against her mouth.
Irene has been aware of her shorter stature for some time. In general, but especially compared to her new colleagues. She beholds Skadi with quietened awe, the sleek angles of her cheekbones, the texture of her lips against her fingers, the velvet-steel look in her eyes.
"Y...Ye...s."
"But I would break you apart." Skadi says seriously, "Even without something to put inside of your-"
"Aa-ah-! I get-I get the jist!"
I'll die if I hear another word of this!
Laurentina, her fingers curled beneath her chin, tilts her head and shares her musings.
"Suppose you just...went through the motions until you were satisfied? I could help."
"Help how?" Skadi's brow furrows.
"Relax, no need to be so territorial! You said as much yourself-you'd break her apart. If I were beneath her, to counterbalance you, you should be able to really cut loose."
"I wasn't being-"
"I know. But it's cute when you get flustered. Right, little birdie?"
"I-It's no laughing matter. Skadi is in considerable pain, no? And this is-"
-Sacrilege, if the church ever caught wind of this arrangement-
"-fine with me. I just want you..."
Irene trails off, glances up into Skadi's eyes. Back down again.
"...to feel better."
...
It's not wrong to help someone who is hurting. Surely, there were-contingencies, for this sort of thing.
Irene knows very well there are not.
But there should be. It's not the church's fault they had no way to conceive of all of the ways in which her people might suffer, when the scriptures were written.
She rapidly realizes that there is absolutely no justification she could offer, to herself or any higher power, for as to why she agreed to be held down against Laurentina's supine form as Skadi doubles over her and grinds, hard, between her legs.
But she soon becomes more concerned with more mortal matters.
All of Skadi's weight is anchored into her hips, and she ruts into Irene through their clothes like she's chasing her very bones. Laurentina writhes beneath her, rolling her between them, easing the worst of the pressure, but the sensation is suffocating.
Her hands scramble for Skadi's shoulders, and she can feel Laurentina's thighs pressing into her backside as she cocoons her with her body.
"Hhhah, you're close?" Laurentina coos, and Skadi groans into Irene's neck, closing her between them like a vise-
My...ribs are going to crack, Irene thinks numbly, and her head dips back over Laurentina's shoulder as a strangled cry rumbles out of her chest, She's going to break every bone in my body, if this keeps up-
Skadi's hand clutches her suddenly beneath the knee, hiking it up as she grinds closer, harder than before.
"S-Skadi, you're, g-going to kill me-!"
Those must have been the magic words, because Skadi's voice pitches and her entire body shudders, rolling with the aftershocks as she slumps over Irene, breathing hard. Something in her was sated, Irene can tell that much.
She's breathing hard too. There's a little too much humidity between her legs to all be sweat, and she pants, desperately-
"-It's, it's hot-"
"Take these off next time then." Skadi's voice is slightly muffled over her shoulder. She doesn't move a muscle.
"N-Next time?!"
"Mmhm."
Laurentina's hands are drifting, silky-soft, beneath her skirt, pressing and poking at her thighs.
"Oh, see." She hums as Irene winces, "I don't even have to see here to know that she's all bruised up."
Irene whimpers, and Skadi nuzzles her, just below her ear.
"...Sorry. Really."
"D-Don't worry. Just save your strength."
"Mmhm."
It's funny. Irene thinks. Anyone else, I would expect to say something about the obvious divide in our abilities, would point out how strange it is for someone like me to tell her what to do. But she doesn't sound disingenuous at all.
"You too, brave little birdie." Laurentina's legs tremble beneath hers, and she takes a shivering breath that makes Irene wonder how she managed to take on everything at once. "Not even my finest clay can withstand such pressure-you're truly a resilient medium of your own right." Laurentina's dexterous fingers slide up around Irene's shoulders, gently kneading them, releasing tension, "That being said, you'd probably appreciate a slightly...softer touch? I promise I'll be careful with you while Skadi sleeps it off."
Irene sighs, tilting her neck into the touch.
She has nothing to say for Skadi having fallen asleep already-she'll be joining her soon.
#arknights#skadi (arknights)#laurentina (arknights)#irene (arknights)#otp: she's actually very sentimental#otp: you are a fruit#my writing#requests#nsft#also i'm taking recommendations for a skadi/laurentina tag because i don't have one yet and that's a crime so hmu
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Sweet Dreams for a Fair Queen aka VIL GET BEHIND ME
Hello everyone!
Currently, I’m still working on my addendum to my pomefiore arc analysis with the new content from the most recent JP update. I’m still waiting for all the translations to come in but I’m hoping to have it done by Monday or Tuesday. Honestly, I found that there is SO MUCH going on in this most recent update both good and bad. Too much to include in this addendum. Hence this separate post.
Ironically, while my analysis was mainly focused on Vil and how he sees himself, the one thing from the most recent update that really needed a separate post was Vil himself. In this most recent update, we see the dreams of Vil, Epel, and Rook. I might talk about Epel’s later, and I’m saving Rook's for the addendum. But Vil’s…my god…SO MUCH to unpack, and unfortunately, none of it is good.
I don’t know if Yana was hit with a crowbar and developed amnesia while writing, or if she realized she did too good a job portraying the tragedy of Vil’s arc and had to backpedal, or if Disney took issue with Vil being too sympathetic because this is still a game based on villains. Either way, the way Vil is portrayed in his dream is SUCH a departure from his actual personality and morals that it bordered like a parody. His cruelty to Neige, how he spoke to Yuu and the others, and his generally conceded personality might be how a good deal of the fandom sees him, but this was NOT the true Vil Scheonheit we have come to know over the last four years.
Unfortunately, Vil’s dream seems to have done even more damage to how this fucking fandom views him. I’ve seen many posts here and on the bird app saying how Vil’s dream proves his cruel personality isn’t just headcanon and that he is not beating the mean girl allegations anymore. It’s extremely upsetting because it’s true. Honestly, Vil is NOT beating the allegations and this time, it’s canon that is fucking him over. But before we dive deeper, and before I get too heated again, let’s look at Vil’s dream and how and why it goes against his established character so terribly. Finally, I will share with you all my own ideas of how I imagine Vil’s perfect dream would ACTUALLY play out. Obviously, spoilers ahead for the most recent update.
~~~
First, let’s quickly assess Vil’s character, to better understand why I’m so pissed. As a dorm leader, Vil is meticulous, tenacious and VERY altruistic. He genuinely cares for his dorm mates (and seems to have a soft spot for all the freshmen) and wants to see them become better people. And he goes to great lengths to see this through. Sometimes his methods come off as harsh and overwhelming but at some point even his most disgruntled subordinates come to understand why Vil is the way he is.
As an actor, he is equally tenacious but more importantly, desires that ALL his success come from his own efforts and not because he’s the son of such a famous actor and producer. To the point Vil went to the length of actually changing his legal last name to further distance himself from Eric’s legacy. It would be so easy for Vil to coast off his father’s success. Eric could probably secure for his son any role that he wants, including the heroic one that Vil so deeply desires. But such would be going against every value Vil holds and would open him up to accusations of nepotism. Further adding to the villainous image the public falsely has of him.
And as for his dynamic with Epel, I know this is an unpopular opinion but the way Vil treats him is NOT abusive. I understand there is a cultural aspect to Vil’s issue with Epel’s speech patterns that was made worse by how EN translated it but even with that in mind, Vil’s demands aren’t really that unreasonable. He makes it clear from the jump that he takes no issue with his dialect and it could be argued that Vil being so hard on him is out of care for Epel. What do you think would have happened if Epel took up such an attitude with any other NRC student? He would regularly be getting his ass beat and Vil is trying to prevent that. Honestly I have a lot of opinions on Vil’s dynamic with Epel but they’ll have to wait for another time.
And even then, it’s been implied a few times that Vil tries to help Epel out in ways that Epel doesn’t completely hate. Even if Vil doesn’t approve of Epel’s misogyny, he does accept his interests and understands he desire to be stronger. It’s further implied in Epel’s dorm vignette when Vil tasks him with creating the magical wheel for his film project because he knows that Epel would enjoy it.
So as we can see, Vil is probably one of the more upstanding characters in twst. His crimes, if you can call them that, can mostly be regulated by misunderstandings and he actually ends up subverting many of the expectations we’d have for a character type like his. Even when he overblots, how it happens is so removed from the other overblots (and even the ones that come after) that it’s actually incredibly tragic.
Now, let’s look at how Vil is portrayed in his perfect dream world.
Terribly, to put it lightly. Though I understand now one of the reasons we got the Tapis Rouge event. Anyway, in Vil’s dream, he’s still a mega famous actor, beloved by many fans. The main difference between this and real life is Vil himself. When away from his adoring fans, he’s shown to be conceited, arrogant and mean spirited. He speaks very insultingly to Yuu and the other characters and even threatens to curse them as well. Neige is also his assistant in this dream and Vil is downright abusive to him. Even Miranda Priestly was a kinder boss to Andy than Vil is to Neige here.
Later when Yuu and co attempt to wake Vil up, he ends up having another dream of the VDC. In this one, Vil actually SUCCEEDS in poisoning Neige, resulting in NRC Tribe taking first place. Despite the fact that this again goes against every value Vil holds and it was actually his guilt of what he could have done to Neige that caused his overblot in the first place. And despite the fact that Vil would be revolted at VDC victory at such a cost. EVEN MORE than if he had won with their imperfect performance.
All in all, he seems more like a caricature of his archetype than the actual kind and complex character he actually is. The complete opposite of EVERYTHING we’ve seen from Vil thus far. Naturally, I took great issue with this, not only because this just feeds into the fandom’s misconceptions of Vil, but because it’s just not accurate. AT ALL! THIS IS LIKE A BAD FUCKING FANFICTION!
Okay, okay, before I get too hot under the collar, let me actually explain why this is such an awful portrayal of a character I hold so dear to my heart.
Departure from his canon personality: Despite being a famous actor and model celebrated for his incredible beauty, Vil is actually a very humble person. His nature is not naturally mean-spirited, and he’s not a spoiled brat. Even when people piss him off, he’ll make his displeasure known; make no mistake about that! But he’s always respectful and, in the instance during the Tapis Rouge event, sometimes even encouraging. Above everything else, Vil is never harder on people than he is on himself.
Oversimplifying/invalidating his disdain for Neige: Now I understand that Neige being Vil’s abused assistant is a reference to Snow White being the Evil Queen’s scullery maid. But based on everything we know and have seen from both Vil and Neige, the reference does a disservice to both their characters. I would even argue if the reference was really needed in the first place because Vil’s disdain for Neige was never so simple as just petty jealousy. There is an actual, unfair dichotomy between them that places Neige above Vil in the eyes of people like Rook and, ultimately, the public at large. Vil has every right to resent this and were he treated more fairly, he might even be more kindly disposed towards Neige. Because Vil isn’t a petty person. Neige clearly admires Vil and Vil at least respects Neige but the dichotomy between them unfortunately prevents them from having a healthier dynamic. I don’t know if this will make sense but I don’t believe Vil hates Neige, what he hates is what he represents.
Disney vs Yana: Now, I wanna preface what I’m about to say next as it being COMPLETELY speculation of my own. I have no hand in creating twst and have no idea what goes into it beyond what Yana talks or tweets about. But I’ve always felt that Disney takes issue with their more heroic characters portrayed in a morally gray light. It would explain why we haven’t seen Prince Rielle, why we haven’t seen Farena despite there being a whole ass Sunset Savanna event, and why everything about Neige’s character actually works against him and why he should be seen as the fairest one of all. In this case, I wonder if Vil’s ooc dream could have resulted from Disney meddling. It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened in a game Disney has a creative hand in; anyone who is a Kingdom Hearts fan and played KH3 knows this all too well. If that’s the case, this actually makes me extremely worried when we see the future overblotee dreams. ESPECIALLY Jamil’s dream, if you know, you know.
For the most part, those are all the things I disliked about Vil’s dream. But now, in the interest of not ending this post on a completely sour note, let me paint for you all a picture. Two in fact since Vil had two different dreams in canon.
Scenario 1: Vil never sees Neige’s VDC rehearsal. He and his teammates review the rehearsal footage as he originally intended, and he’s not put in a position to be retraumatized again. So he doesn’t overblot and instead, NRC Tribe gives a perfect performance through and through. Even when Vil does see Neige on stage, he knows he’s given the best performance he can and still votes for his team. NRC Tribe wins and Vil is celebrated for his incredible talent and absolutely beautiful dedication. The first step in Vil finally seeing himself with value outside the villainous persona people have projected upon him.
Scenario 2: This one I like a little better. Soon after graduation, Vil is offered the lead role in the Legendary Sword sequel Adela tried to sign him up for in Book 5. He plays the role of the heroic prince phenomenally and people are wowed by how much tenacity he brings to the role. As a heroic prince, he's charming and snarky, no-nonsense but with a heart of gold. Bringing a lot of his personality to the role but in a way that makes the audience relate with him regardless of his otherworldly beauty. Proving that he has what it takes to be a hero and stand on the stage until the end, he ALWAYS had was it takes. Neige would still exist in his perfect dream world and may still be in the film. Not as a rival/villain, though, but maybe as a supporting character. But with Vil finally getting the recognition he deserves, his dynamic with Neige would likely become healthier over time.
In the end, Vil is an incredibly misunderstood character, probably the most misunderstood character in twst after Kalim. Unfortunately, this most recent JP update did little to help his case. But either way, I at least hope I did an adequate job at explaining why. And I hope that in the future, Vil’s complexities are more accepted and acknowledged. By both the fandom and the canon.
#twisted wonderland#twst book 7#twst jp spoilers#twst book 7 spoilers#pomefiore#jas reads twst#shut up jas#vil schoenheit
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hiii! I’m currently crying because I really like the Tsaritsa but there’s no content of her! Like anywhere!! I know that you are very busy but please bear with me😅 I’m sorry if I’m bothering you btw 😢
what if Yandere!Tsaritsa has a lover who loves to cause trouble/hates the Fatui. It’s to the point she can’t maintain them, do you think she’ll ask her harbingers for help? Like have the 9th bribe them with money in order to keep them away from going on with their evil villain schemes 😈(just that they’re trapped in the middle of nowhere and don’t have much freedom..) or just have a harbinger check up on the Tsaritsa s’ s/o each once in a while
by the way, I feel like I may come here a lot (I normally do, but I don’t request) so can I be 👛 anon? 🙏🙏 thank you for reading, I know this was trashy (it’s my first time requesting 😭)
Hi i'm sorry it took a bit to get to this, i was worried about not being able to do good enough and wanted to make sure i could do your request justice! if you're still interested in being an anon for my blog i would love to have you :D
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behavior, implied being held against ones will, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
While she isn’t against asking the Harbingers to get you under control, she prefers to handle you herself. The Tsaritsa knew what kind of responsibilities she’d be taking on when deciding she wanted you, and thus she tries to avoid relying on them. At first, she tried to mitigate any negative feelings between you and her Harbingers by having you attend meetings with her, Fatui-related events, and other such things, but she has quickly learned it’s better to leave you in your shared bedroom and deal with any attitude when she returns home.
During times when she has to be away from Zapolyarny palace or outside of Snezhnaya and can’t bring you, she’ll task one of her dear Harbingers with your care. It’s usually Pantalone or Capitano, Pierro is generally too busy, Pucinella is too easy on you, and the others have quirks of their own that she doesn’t hold high faith in.
Long, slim fingers brush through the strands of your hair, tucking back any loose pieces and fixing the parting as she mulls over a thought in her mind. The Tsaritsa knows she has only another hour or so with you before she has to set off again, leaving you in the capable hands of her dear Harbinger Capitano. She hasn’t yet broken the news to you, knowing you’ll pitch a fit that is better dealt with by giving you space to lash out. She’d chosen Capitano this time specifically because you’d been extra testy lately, plotting escapes and trying to fight some of the lower-ranked guards posted outside your door. The large man could take quite a beating and she was hoping he’d be up for the challenge of your care.
“My sweet Snowball, I’ve neglected to inform you until this point, but I have to leave Snezhnaya for some time. A minor god has appeared in a nearby nation and sparked trouble, Celestia has requested I step in to assist in handling them.” Her fingers pause in your hair for a moment before pulling away, allowing you a moment to process what she has told you.
As much as she hates to do it, she often lies to you about where she’s going or why she has to be out of Snezhnaya. The Tsaritsa knows of your dislike for the Fatui and their motives, but she cannot simply halt her plan because you are heartbroken over it. Thus, she often will tell you false information, playing the part of the darling Archon that Celestia expects of her, but only in front of you.
Really, she rarely leaves Snezhnaya, often traveling to different parts of her nation to handle difficult tasks that the calloused hands of her Harbingers are not capable of. She has on occasion ventured out of the controlled walls of her nation, daring to visit neighboring ones in search of valuable items or materials, but she prefers to stay in Snezhnaya. While she may be powerful and well capable of defending herself, she sleeps easier at night knowing that you are within the same nation as her.
#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x male reader#yandere genshin x gender neutral reader#tsaritsa x reader#tsaritsa x male reader#tsaritsa x gender neutral reader#yandere tsaritsa x reader#yandere tsaritsa x male reader#yandere tsaritsa x gender neutral reader#yandere genshin#genshin yandere#yandere tsaritsa#tsaritsa yandere
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here r some of my baulkins (billpaulemma) hcs because i can't stop thinking about them
paul, a lowkey (highkey) filmbro, drags his partners with him to the theater to watch EVERY new film that comes out. he brings a notebook w him to take notes and emma and bill r extremely supportive of how passionate he is about film and let him rant about it afterwards
bill LOVES to bake, (he used to bake a lot for alice before the divorce) so ofc he bakes any and everything for his partners whenever they want.
emma, the traveller of the trio, plans road trips every once in awhile, making sure to add stops in places she thinks bill and paul would be interested in going :) she finds she enjoys travelling with them just as much as she did alone (maybe even better)
paul is a board game enthusiast, so his partners spend a lot of time learning how to play very specific board games for their hangouts :3
bill is THE designated driver. he vowed to stay sober after alice was born because he dealt with an alcoholic father, so he's been sober ever since. he'll drive paul & emma around if they drink and just generally watches over them when they get drunk LOL
alice was pretty shocked to learn that bill had a boyfriend AND a girlfriend but she adjusted pretty quickly. she thinks emma is SUPER cool and they bond over the most random things ever. but yea theyre besties pretty much
please please please feel free to share ur hcs/thoughts/ideas or Whatever i just need more content w themmmmmm 😩
#starkid#hatchetfield#the guy who didn't like musicals#tgwdlm#baulkins#still dont know what the “official” ship name is so im just sticking w that lmaooo#paulkins#batthews#i also dont think bill/emma is a big thing either? which i mean. i GUESS is fair they dont have a LOT of interactions in canon i suppose.#but ive seen ships come out from LESS so#WHERES IT AT YALLL#we don't give a shit about your queue!
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#another bonus under the cut where i got up under their big head to get 'em a little closer and a little more front-facing#aggron#aggron is just cool. a big metal bitch who *could* hug you but is probably actually just gonna obliterate you. is that anything#i think i prefer lairon more. it's kinda just a little metal creature and i think that's awesome but aggron stands up#and normally i'm a big big fan of when pokémon stand up. when everyone wanted sprigatito to not stand up i was like#please stand up. because i am a furry and i knew it was gonna become favorite pokémon material if it did. and it did and meowscarada is#wonderful and i love it and it's one of my top like 10 of all time. but aggron is like. i dunno. a little too gruff for me#i think aron and lairon are cute and i'm generally a fan of and user of cute pokémon but aggron is very. how you say. aggressive#and also… ron… aggressive ron. new show on netflix i just reinvented aggretsuko but for pokémon#also weirdly every furry on the face of the earth likes aggretsuko but for one i've never had a netflix account and for two i just#don't ever watch shows. it's just not something that works in my brain. having to get them‚ and then just taking the time to sit down and do#it just never does anything for me. the last show i watched was because i was over at a friend's house and he was like hey. we're watching#this show now. i want you to see this show. and it's a show that folks generally lamented for a lot of reasons so i was like iii dunno about#that one! but he was like no trust me it's fine. and then i was like. kinda uninterested at first but it turned out to be really good#and i'm still ashamed. that i liked it as much as i did. so i will not say what it is. it's not supernatural. it's a short-ish show#but like it was good and i didn't expect it to be. which has nothing to do with aggretsuko OR with aggron for that matter#literally idk. look it's distraction (AGGRON DISTRACTION)
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have had a bit of my crash after flying too close to the sun this past week and you know what, it’s very annoying and also very good for me in a stabilizing way.
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