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#he was not has bad as what I'd heard but still? put him in prison because wtf
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okay but the way I saw edits of this man from the Love Is The Drug music video and assumed he was like a sassy jazz club emcee?? Oh boy I was wrong and he was genuinely scary but his outfits went so hard and it makes me mad 
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boydepartment · 7 months
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Choi Yeonjun- The Closing Shift.
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a/n: hi so this fic has been in the works for a couple months now, it has been on pause for awhile due to me almost dying because of a concert venue. However, i wanted to get this out SO! happy halloween my loves
warnings- one make out scene, this is HORROR i'd say like PG-14 it is def way crazier than my usual writing.
wc- 3.7k
tags- @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ikeumi @mikuzakii @leetaste
MASTERLIST
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The beeping of your alarm bothered you, the constant reminder that work had to be done, and the constant reminder that you will never meet your manager’s needs as an employee. You hit snooze and let the time pass. He was going to yell at you even if you were on time so 15 more minutes of sleep couldn’t hurt right?
WRONG!
You accidentally slept for 20 minutes and now you were rushing out of your house, your hair was still a mess as you practically ran down the stairs. Not before tripping over something in your path… It was a phone. That’s odd… And it was ringing over and over again. You grimaced; it just reminded you of your alarm. The ringtone was loud and annoying too, this did not help your morning.
Your body bent over to pick it up, it looked old, almost like a burner phone. The plastic of the small device was wet, it almost blended in with the ground. The rain was still pouring from the night before, so you decided to quickly get to your car.
Trying not to slip again you made your way to your apartments designated parking spot, the buildings around you needed major refurbishments and-
Hold on… Before you grabbed your keys you saw a man looking for something. Oh! Looking down at your hand, you walked over to him. The man was taller than you, wearing a hoodie that seemed unwashed, it maybe that was just the rain, his pants had stains on them too. Nonetheless, you approached him.
“Excuse me…? Are you looking for something…?” Your voice remains soft and calm, even if the stranger left you on edge.
The man nods and you held up the phone, “well I found this!”
“Give me it.” At that moment he took it from you, no thank you, no kindness towards you. God, this morning already sucked. You got to your car and drove carefully down the rainy streets to your shitty café job.
As you pulled up you could already feel the tension of your manager ripping you a new asshole. Taking a deep breath, you walked in and behind the counter. You had the morning shift, so you had to open up the store, which it looks like he already did. You made your way into the backroom and put your things in your locker, walking past your manager you could feel eyes on you. Turning around you faced the wrath of Christopher.
“I am sorry I’m late…” You deadpanned, blinking slowly.
“Sorry isn’t enough Y/n. I am tired of you not being on time and I don’t want to tell on you.” He sat back in his chair and looked at you. He looked like he had been there for hours, which honestly, was probably true. His hair was disheveled, and his white button up looked distressed. You saw his tie on the desk next to the computer too.
You nodded and put your apron on, “got it. I won’t be late anymore.”
“I also heard you’ve been a klutz with orders. So, I am bringing someone in to help you tomorrow.”
You bit back any kind of sly or coy remark and smiled, “yes sir!”
Taking a deep breath you walked into your position behind the counter, “I also heard you’ve been a klutz with-“Before you could mimic him anymore, you heard the backdoor close and you watched him leave in his stupid truck.
To be honest, Christopher was not a bad guy in the slightest, your manager was just an annoyance because he ran Chilla’s Coffee like a prison. Which is what your barista job feels like now.
As your shift continued, you started to calm down and before you knew it, your shift was over, and you went home. It felt… different as you walked home though… Almost like you weren’t entirely alone… When you got home, you ate some leftovers and mentally prepared yourself for the hell of tomorrow.
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Once again, raining, and once again, loathing your job. Your life really just could not get any worse than this. Before you walked in you looked up at the sky.
“Universe, PLEASE, change my luck, I am going insane. Like I don’t know,” you started to walk in now mumbling to yourself, “maybe Chris gets his tires slashes or…”
You opened the door to the backroom and saw Christopher talking to another guy. This other guy could honestly be a male model in your opinion because good lord, he was tall, his facial features curved perfectly, and-
“Ah! Y/n! You arrived, and you’re only… 1 minute late!”
Your eye twitched as you put your head in your locker to get your apron and put away your items. Oh, you REALLY wished that someone would slash his tires. Shutting your locker, you looked up and gave a smile.
“Good morning!” You put your hand out to the guy who was towering over you. He smiled and shook your hand.
“Good morning! I am Yeonjun, you must be Y/n! Chris has spoken a lot about you!” His smile could cure every illness, but it was killing you.
“I hope it was all good things!” You laughed awkwardly, Yeonjun let go of your hand and laughed.
“It really was not good things but it’s fine.”
Christopher gave Yeonjun a hard pat on the back while laughing, “oh Y/n I also wanted to tell you, tomorrow you and Yeonjun are switching to the closing shift. We have too many transfer employees that are openers.”
Even Yeonjun being really hot did not stop you from wanting to wring Chris’s neck. However, before you knew it, you and Yeonjun were behind the counter waiting for customers. You leaned slightly and looked at him.
“How bad did he talk about me?” You questioned him, Yeonjun brushed a hand through his hair and smirked effortlessly.
“Oh, so bad, he begged me to come help you with your shifts.” The man let out a soft laugh and looked at the out the windows that faced you both.
You laughed, “I’m really not that bad its just-“
“Chris runs this bitch like we are training for World War 3?”
Hot and funny, what a dangerous combo Yeonjun was. While you were talking a couple of customers came in so you both got to work promptly. Maybe Chris was right, having Yeonjun here really made you not want to mess up your job.
When the rush died down, both you got back to talking to each other, small smiles exchanged between the both of you don’t go unnoticed.
A woman walked in next, she was dolled up. In your opinion she was very pretty. Almost model pretty like Yeonjun.
“Girl, I need to warn you…” She mumbled, she what?
“Go on…” You said, confused you glanced over to Yeonjun who was acting like he was really interested in the pumpkin pie in the glass case.
“Stalkers are on the rise! The news said so! Oh… I have to be so alert now… A woman like me could get attacked… You be careful too alright?” She spoke so sure of herself…
You nodded and thanked her with a smile.
“You don’t have to be worried about getting stalked as much as me but! Still! Be careful, okay?”
Nevermind, this bitch was ugly.
“Can I take your order now?” You asked, getting reminded quickly as to why you hate your job. The woman nodded and gave you her order. You looked at Yeonjun who was pretending not to side eye her.
After the woman, you had a group of teenagers come in and a few older folks. You learned to prefer the older people.
When your shift was over, you handed the reigns to the next set of workers and went to your locker.
“Y/n.” You looked up and saw Yeonjun at his designated locker, “don’t think too much about what that girl said.”
Your eyes watched as Yeonjun took off his apron and set it in his locked to then look back at you, “you’re pretty and anyone who had eyes would be obsessed with you.” He smiled at you and grabbed his backpack.
“See you tomorrow at 6?”
You smiled at him, “yeah… I’ll see you at 6…”
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The next day you were almost excited to go to work, the recent banter with Yeonjun made everything at Chilla’s coffee better. He was funny and sweet and helped you with really shitty customers. The groups of students, the trio of mean girls, older folks. He really did help you a lot. You got to know him a lot better too. To the point where if no one else was in the café you both would just sit and talk behind the counter.
“Okay so tell me more about you.” You spoke, leaning against the counter, today was slow and you had time to really chat with him.
Yeonjun looked at you, picking a pastry from the sliding door. He stopped leaning and you took note how tall he really was.
“Well, as you know, I recently worked at the Chilla’s across town. I am a college student, dance major, psychology minor.” He said, taking a bite of the piece of lemon cake. He was even hot eating a piece of cake. At this point, you should thank Chris.
“What about you?” He asked and stood closer to you, his cologne was intoxicating and his eyes piercing. You took a sip of your water.
“I live alone, I hate my job for the most part, and I can make a pretty mean chillapachino.” You smiled up at him.
Yeonjun smirked slightly at you, “you’ll have to make me one sometime.” The tension was absolutely eating you alive. Until some guy walked in. He had on a long trench coat and was part of an older crowd. He wanted some drink or something. You quickly put on your customer service voice. He finally spoke again and what he said really freaked you out.
“I’ve noticed some shady folk around these parts recently.”
This made your brows furrow, “really?”
The man nodded, “listen, if you ever need any help and don’t want to go straight to the police, I am a private investigator.” He gave you his card before leaving with his drink, Yeonjun came up behind you and looked at his card. You didn’t notice Yeonjun’s hand slightly on your waist.
“That was…” Yeonjun looked at the card, then at you.
“Really fucking weird.” You mumbled, pocketing the card. The customers during the nightshift have been really weird lately. You took note of every person that has come through the door. You recognized some of them, like that guy who’s phone you found a few days ago.
“What’s your go to when asking people out?” Yeonjun suddenly brought up, when you both were cleaning up the café.
You scoffed slightly putting the milks back in the fridge, “if I had a ‘go to’ I don’t think I’d be living alone and single.”
“So, you are single?”
You looked up at Yeonjun who was picking up the bags of trash and grinning at you.
“Yeah I am.” Your eyes scanning his face.
It took approximately five minutes later for you to be pinned up against the lockers in the backroom while Yeonjun nipped at the skin between your shoulder and neck. The café was closed, and there were no cameras in the breakroom. Your breath hitched when he bit a specific part, you could feel his lips curve into that oh so classic smirk against your skin. His hands gripping your waist tighter.
“Yeonjun…” You breathed out, trying to gain some sort of composure.
He hummed against you, his lips trailing up your neck, “you are so fucking hot, I was overjoyed to say the least when Chris gave us the closing shift.”
Your hands made their way to his undercut up to his locks, you felt him groan and he pressed his lips against yours again. You bit his lip and he whined, opening his mouth slightly. You felt his hands slowly trail down to your ass, until you both jumped apart at the noise of something falling in the storage room.
“What the fuck was that?” Yeonjun pulled away from you but still had a tight grip on your body. You took a deep breath, face flushed.
“I-I don’t know… Should we check it out?”
Yeonjun looked down at you, “yeah… we probably should…”
You both walked toward the storage room and opened the door, peaking both your heads inside. The sight was irritating, one of the shelves was completely knocked over, boxes and bags of coffee beans on the floor.
“Jesus christ…” Yeonjun mumbled and led both you two to pick up the mess. It didn’t take long with the teamwork you both just had. After cleaning up the backroom you both went back to the seating area, to lock up Chilla’s and leave for the night.
While looking at one of the tables you noticed a paper, walking over, not noticing it there before you were curious. You had just cleaned this part of the café.
Your blood ran absolutely cold when you saw that it was a photo of you, Yeonjun went to the back to recheck a recipe when this photo was taken. You looked at the photo, about to vomit.
“Yeonjun?” You called out to him; you saw he was already by the door waiting for you.
He whipped around and looked down at you, “you okay?”
You handed him the photo and his brows furrowed, seemingly pissed, “where did you find this?”
“In-In the café sitting area…” You were starting to panic. Yeonjun swallowed hard.
“I’ll walk you to your car, and then I will follow you home, to make sure you get home safely, okay? Tomorrow we can talk to Chris about switching shifts alright?”
You nodded and he followed through with what he said. Yeonjun even called you when he was heading home, you really wanted him to stay with you, but that felt a little bit too forward.
Getting to sleep that night was a struggle, but you managed to anyways.
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The next morning you felt sick to your stomach, right by your door was a note. It was haunting.
‘My DeArest Y/n I lOve You I lOVe YOU I LovE yoU yOu Are ThE best yoU HelPED Me FiNd MY tHiNgs And We aAre SouL MatES I Love You I lOve You I lOVe You!’
‘I HATE THAT FILTHY MUTT OF A MAN THOUGH WHO THINKS HE CAN TOUCH YOU’
You quickly ran down to your car with the note and the photos, almost knocking down a lady with her baby. You quickly apologized and tried not to slip and fall into your car. When you finally buckled up you tried to start your car.
It wasn’t working.
You took a deep breath and scanned your apartment complex surroundings, looking down at your phone, you decided to call Yeonjun.
“Yeonjun my car isn’t started I need help otherwise I have to take the bus and-“
“Babe,” he sounded irritated, “I would love to give you a ride, but some fuck slashed my tires last night, and broke my windshield.”
“What...?” Your breath hitched.
Yeonjun was talking to someone then you heard shuffling, “I am going to take the bus too, so I will meet you at Chilla’s alright? My bus is across town.”
You took a deep breath and nodded, “alright…”
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Chris did not believe that you were being stalked, even though Yeonjun completely backed you up, he still did not believe you. Which shocked you both. Yeonjun was like his prized pupil. How could Chris not believe him?
“I got sent this last night…” Chris pulled up a photo on his phone, it was of you and Yeonjun kissing in this very breakroom.
Your jaw dropped to the floor, “Chris how the fuck!?” You looked behind you at the storage room.
Yeonjun grabbed Chris’s phone and turned around, copying your actions.
“If this continues, I will have to terminate you both. Don’t let it happen again.” At the Chris left. Leaving you and Yeonjun to stand there in shock.
When both your shifts started, you stood in silence, the banter gone. Your mouth felt dry. Even while helping the nice customers, you felt dull, scared. What really freaked you out was that there was a guy in a hood standing right outside your window, you turned to Yeonjun but he was taking an order. When you looked back the hooded man was gone.
“Y/n can you please focus?” Yeonjun turned to you and handed you the drink orders.
“I-I’m I’m sorry…” You mumbled and got back to work; it was hard to not be angry at the circumstances right now. As the day went by you and Yeonjun just worked. You both didn’t really talk about anything. It made the day go by quick, but it was painful. The tension between you and Yeonjun almost made you forget about the situation.
That was… until you were in the employee’s office, the storage room door was open, and you were digging through your locker. Something fell over in the dark room, and you jumped a bit. When you were going to investigate Yeonjun walked in. He quickly shut the door and blocked it with his body.
“We need to tal-“
“Yeonjun move! Something fell!” You were frantic at this point, going crazy. You were being stalked and your boss didn’t believe you, Yeonjun was mad at you, and he was the only one who DID believe you, you had to deal with some crazy guy dancing today with no clothes on, today was horrible.
“Y/n I am sorry for getting frustrated with you-“
You turned around and went to the café lounge, you still had to clean and didn’t want to hear it from him, “you pretty much ignored me all day!”
He followed you, “Y/n I know I’m sorry, I was mad about my tires and windshield, and I don’t make a lot of money so I can’t just pay for it to get fixed asap! I work in a fucking coffee shop!”
You turned around, “I forgot about that…” You started walking to the front entrance, the closed sign wasn’t up, “but that doesn’t give you- AH!”
You screamed your head off when a man popped up and started breathing on the window, almost immediately, Yeonjun went over to you to shield you from this guy. You watched as the man started to lick up and down the cool glass.
“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!?” You were hiding in Yeonjun’s shoulder, now crying.
“He’s gone- wait fuck!” AT that moment Yeonjun ran into the backroom to make sure the storage door was locked. You followed him, you didn’t know what this man was truly capable of.
“Y/N STAY IN THE CAFÉ!” Yeonjun whisper yelled, he turned around and you grabbed his arm. Yeonjun sighed and made sure the door was locked, it was. But by this time, you both noticed what fell earlier.
“What’s a carton of milk doing… by the second storage…?” You breathed out. The second storage was never used, ever. It was like a mini attic that was only built if extra shipments came in, and even then, when you guys did get extra shipments, people would just put them in the employee room. The second storage area was always forgotten.
You climbed up the ladder, Yeonjun beckoning you down, then sighing to follow you. When you got up there you noticed a few things.
There were blankets, food, and… photos of you…
“I feel sick…” You mumbled, Yeonjun heard more rustling downstairs and looked at you.
“You are going to call me crazy, but we need to get to higher ground, I will call the cops, okay? You call that private investigator” You looked at Yeonjun and nodded, you trusted him. You both went up to the roof and Yeonjun stood on the covering, so if someone did climb through, they wouldn’t be able to get up.
You looked over the roof and swallowed hard, “Yeonjun…?” You dropped your phone, it made a loud noise when it hit the ground level, right next to the dead body of the private investigator.
“Yeah?” He asked, on the phone with the police.
“I- I-“ He walked over to you and saw what your eyes were fixated on.
“Oh my god I’m gonna be sick.” He covered his mouth; you took his phone, and the police were already on their way.
Your hand found its way to Yeonjun and he held onto you tightly. That was until the trap door blew open. The man from earlier on the roof with you both, your stalker. Both you and Yeonjun jumped back. The stalker had a weapon and was approaching.
“Do you trust me?” Yeonjun looked at you, you nodded. The next thing you knew, you were being tossed off the roof. Into the snow, right on the dead body. You screamed your lungs out and vomited right after, tainting the white snow. The next thing you knew, you fainted.
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When you woke up in your apartment, Yeonjun was right next to you, holding you close.
“Yeonjun…” You mumbled sitting up, a couple weeks have passed from the Chilla’s café incident and needless to say, you and Yeonjun trauma bonded. He ended up moving in with you a few days later. It helped with taxes and his lease was up, so you weren’t complaining. Especially since they never caught the guy who was stalking you…
Yeonjun mumbled and held you closer to him, “don’t wanna get up yet…”
You laid back down and leaned happily on him. Part of you still felt uneasy… your eyes always played tricks on you. You always swear you see things in the corner of your eye, Yeonjun only took away part of that feeling.
Your gut and your nerves still think you are being watched constantly; your brain calls you crazy. And maybe your brain is right, you couldn’t possibly be crazier than the man watching you and Yeonjun with pure jealous rage from your closet right now though. So that’s a win <3
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donatellokinnersinner · 11 months
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Its disability pride month, or so I've heard.
So I wanted to share things I've experienced.
I have 4 biological brothers (3 full, 1 half) and 2 of them are autistic. The first was 2 years younger than me with AuDHD, bipolar, and SPD. The other is 10 years younger than me (the half brother) with only Autism and SPD. I also have an older brother with ADHD.
I'm in the middle of the group, with Autism as well (aspergers, but it's not called that anymore.) I was the one that wasnt diagnosed, only getting any kind of treatment for Depression and PTSD when I was a freshman in high school. I think it was cause they never had a basis of comparison. I didnt have sisters that were considered "normal" I just had myself, and I was who I was. Everything was chalked up to me being a girl.
I didnt quite understand it, but we tried to adapt to my brothers behavior (the youngest lived with Bio Mom). The closer younger brother (let's call him T) had moderate Autism, while in comparison, mine is Mild. He had incredibly sensitive ears, a lack of self control, an oral fixation from hell and an intense interest in Thomas the Train. He couldnt make emotional connections, often telling us that he didnt love us the way we loved him, and he cared more about his friend at school. He stole food, took things apart, wet the bed, and supposedly forced my parents to make our house a prison.
My step mom got depression really bad, and couldnt handle him anymore. There were only 3 of us left living at home. Me, T, and my sibling L who moved out as soon as they graduated that year. Mom went to dad and told him that she needed him to help take care of his son.
Dad refused, and sent T to live with our Bio Mom across the country.
Bio Mom was incredibly narcissistic, valedictorian in law school the year prior to this. She claimed her children only for their successes. My older brother with ADHD (well call him P) was an exact replica of her and had moved in with her the year before cause of a fight with Dad.
And T, who couldnt make emotional connections, moved in with two people who would lash out if they were not given the love they felt they deserved.
T, who couldnt give them the love they felt they deserved.
A year later, I woke up to my oldest sister getting a phone call that he'd passed peacefully in his sleep, according to Bio Mom. She had called our oldest brother to tell everyone cause "she was too heartbroken."
That was her one phone call from jail after what authorities say was "the most gruesome and violent child abuse case theyd ever seen." That was the same day P got arrested later for hanging around the house of a crime scene, and evidence was found on his phone of the "punishments" he gave T when Bio Mom was out of the house, sending them to her for confirmation.
He died from starvation and hypothermia. The woman the birthed him gave him horrendous punishments, locking and shackling him in a closet on a tarp. Putting him in an ice bath the day before cause he couldnt move and she thought he was faking it. When he left my house, he was nearly 180lbs, and grew up to almost 6 feet tall. When he died he was 69lbs.
That was the morning of July 6, 2022.
That was one year ago today.
I found out I was autistic after this, and I couldnt help but hate it at first. I thought I'd end up like him, unable to give a reasonable response and leave my oldest brother with another missing sibling. I buried myself in research, trying to find ways to improve my social skills and emotional maturity. I restarted therapy, and developed an anxiety disorder that has caused me to lose 20lbs in the past year.
And today, one year later, I'm okay with it.
I'm not okay with my family, only really talking to my oldest brother out of my blood related relatives.
I'm not okay with the two blood related people still part of an ongoing trial, because Bio Mom has managed to push the court dare another 3 months.
I'm not okay with the only thing I have left of my little brother, a train necklace with his ashes in it.
I'm not okay with the way even in death, they took three months to plan a funeral, forcing that boys older brother to plan the whole thing instead of the parents that gave up on him.
But I'm okay with myself. Even if it's hard and I struggle and I still hurt, I'm okay with sharing something else with him. I'm okay with beginning to understand through studying psychology how he worked and how to help myself work.
Disability pride month for me is mourning and understanding. Its hate towards those too blind to see what we fight for. Its realizing that despite everything I've struggled with the past year, I can still thrive.
This is only the start of my story, and I'm starting to gain speed, chugging along the tracks impatiently awaiting the day I can hug him again.
But I'm fine with waiting, I still have things I need to do.
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checkoutmybookshelf · 10 months
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Rosethorn and Evvy Do the Battle Islands
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Ok, so I am still very much adamantly of the opinion that Tamora Pierce, like Naomi Novik, has never written a bad book in her life. That said, of all the Circle Universe books, Evvy's story just kind of slides out of my head. It does not tend to stick the way other books do. That said, it gives a new perspective in the Circle Universe that we don't often get. Evvy does not have a magical connection to three foster siblings, and she, like Briar, just survived a war and is dealing with pessimism, PTSD, and trauma-induced misanthropy. Not having three siblings in your head and being all of ten years old makes dealing with that HARD. Let's talk Melting Stones.
*Circle Universe Spoilers below; proceed with caution*
Evvy is not ok when this book gets going. She takes self-defense from a gang of bullies a step too far and Rosethorn has to take her away from Winding Circle for a while. Unfortunately, Rosethorn and Evvy's traveling companion, Dedicate Myrrhtide, is an absolute dick about not only Evvy's recent behavior, but also about not respecting that Evvy was *checks notes* IN A GODDAMN WAR. Even Rosethoren tells him that he deserves the broken nose Evvy gives him when he blatantly disrespects the "do not touch us to wake us up or get us out of meditative trances because PTSD" boundary that both Evvy and Rosethorn set. He respects it with Rosethorn without question, but because Evvy is a child--and worse, a child her percieves as having "behavioral issues"--he fully does not respect that boundary. Evvy has to fully show him her scars from where the Yanjing mages whipped her feet to ribbons when she was taken prisoner for it to get through Myrrhtide's thick-ass skull that she MEANS it.
The fact that Evvy has to PROVE her trauma to Myrrhtide pissed me off enough that while a lot of this book slips out of my head, that interaction never ever has. Literally nobody is OWED proof of your trauma, and fuck them for putting you in a position where you feel like you have to prove it to them. JFC. We do NOT stan Dedicate Myrrhtide in this house. We like him EVEN LESS than Dedicate Crane. At least Crane had a damn heart.
When Evvy and Co. arrive at the Battle Islands, my geology professor dad would be very surprised and proud of me that I called "HOLY TITS VOLCANO" when I first heard that crops were dying and water sources were going acidic. It was a little frustrating how long it took everyone else to figure it out, but a green mage and a water mage really shouldn't be expected to get it faster than they did, and Evvy is a student mage still, and her education was a bit piecemeal because...*gesures broadly*.
What was interesting was watching Evvy learn to like and appreciate humans again in real-time while also being explicitly called out for thinking that rocks are superior to humans. That's such an understandable position to take for Evvy, because she got betrayed HARD by people, and becoming stone literally saved her life in Gyongxe. If I were a child and lived through that, I'd also prefer rocks to people. Hell, experiencing that as an ADULT I'd probably come out the other side preferring rocks to people.
Some of this also drives the plot, because Evvy misses some pretty big red flags from Flare and Carnelian--our antagonist magma spirits. The fact that they get the island evacuated before the volcano really blows is kind of miraculous, and the fact that Evvy and three village kids who got trapped with her on the island during the eruption survived is even more miraculous.
Evvy's experiences ultimately lead to her choice to become a novice at Winding Circle, which honestly is fine. It's fine.
I don't honestly have a ton to say about this one, other than it's doing something very different from what the Circle of Magic Quartet did, and Evvy was, for me, less compelling as a protagonist than Sandry, Daja, Briar, and Tris were. That said, I actually think that Evvy's story is absolutely CRITICAL in the Circle Universe, because I have to imagine that Evvy's is a much more representative story of the world.
Our Circle Quartet protagonists are unique; Evvy's story could graft onto any number of neglected or abandoned kids. It's a critical story to be told, and I appreciate that the book does not hide how difficult recovery and learning to trust humans again can be when you aren't atypically mature and supported. For that, I think Evvy's story is an invaluable addition, and I suspect it speaks to a demographic of kids and adolescents that desperately needs more representation and attention. Pierce does not shy away from the fact that reality happens to kids too, and the rest of us need to open our eyes and see that too.
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innestahtinen · 1 year
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Been listening through all of Johnny Cash's albums. One of his early ones is 'Ride this Train', a concept album about trains, going between different locations and songs of peoples stories from the different places. My favourite is 'Going to Memphis' because it's: A. Quite good on its own, and B. Has chains as a percussion instrument.
But that's not really important, I'm up to 'The Rambler' which feels to me like it'll be the same thing, but with a car, which is really interesting to me as the progression of technology. It's been 17 years and 26 albums then, from 1960 to 1977. The point I'm trying to get to is that in the first narration he goes and talks to a fisherman, and specifically says that he 'doesn't really go in for fishing'. Which makes sense given his history, the only time I'm aware of him going fishing, according to his biography I bought this morning, his brother, who he admired greatly, got opened up by a table saw.
So I still feel bad for Johnny Cash, despite the setting fire to a national park, and the berating his then-partner via letter for feeling ill for having a drink at a party, despite him cheating on her in Germany and telling her. He suffered with addiction for decades, and still put out great music.
I don't know why I got into him, all the other artists I've done this with I've had former history with; my parents showed me Lior, Ben Folds and Tears for Fears, my friends showed me Neil Cicierega, and I kept stumbling upon Weddings, Parties, Anything on random wiki pages (cannibalism in Tasmania something, and Don Quixote in pop culture).
I'd heard a couple of his songs through pop culture, you probably know Ragged Old Flag if you live in the US, thanks to its association with the Super Bowl, and Folsom Prison Blues, I Walk The Line and Ring Of Fire are prevalent enough in pop culture. But I'm in Australia, and it feels like I just went 'Him, this guy that died 19 years ago, like 8 months after I was born, I want him' and I feel bad and stuff for liking him. Imagine my surprise when there was a song about Ned Kelly mixed in there.
Last week I was nearing a thousand liked songs on spotitifi and was listening through a couple of albums thinking 'yeah, this sounds nice' then looking at the lyrics and seeing that it's about his brother beating his wife, or the Confederacy.
Anyway, it's mostly I feel conflicted about him, which probably is quite a good state to be about him, given, well, him. Here's a pic of him in thigh-high waders
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Here's my cactus, day 74
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Looks pretty much the same.
The tattoo had a subquest, so I went back on the day of my appointment, sat down, showed my booking card, and was told the guy had gastro. I was also told to call them every day until he came back, so I could reschedule the appointment, so I didn't.
The next week, I checked Google again for tattoo places nearby, found one near-ish, went there, and it was shut, not even a sign, so I went to another one, my main goal was to not go into the city to get it. So I went to this second one, and the guy asked when I was available. This was a Tuesday, I get my rosters for the next week on a Thursday, so I got a Friday appointment, then immediately got in my own head about getting it, self-doubt, anxiety, you know how it is.
Got it, and immediately went in to work to buy paper towels, talked to a couple of people I know, and no one noticed it. I had shifts the next day and 2 people noticed, the ones I'd talked to about getting it beforehand. It took a month for the people I talk to the most to go 'hey, when'd'you get a tattoo?'
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The good thing about it being a generic symbol is that I can lie about what it means. Give em a multiple choice, is it
It's A, trust me.
My work gave all the checkout people new hats with a company related registered name, and so I immediately wanted one, not to wear (hate wearing branded clothes, something something not paying to be a billboard something something) but to put on my skull I stole from there 3 years ago
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apple-but-sour · 2 years
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can i ask why is the staged finale so important to the story?
because if the only people who knew it was staged were dream and punz (i dont think sam knew because he seemed to truly believe the prison was made for tommy) then all the damage and trauma the whole incident inflicted on tommy, tubbo and other characters is still the same. it doesn't really make it any better. tubbo still believed he was going to die and so on.
like i get why dream apologists cling to it like lifeline- dream mustn't be all evil if it was staged right? but overall, unless they plan on doing a huge reveal and have a big arc about it, i cant see how it changes anything
btw i don't doubt the finale was staged, i just don't see how its so important and you seem like a person who knows their lore
I'd say it changes more about c!Dream's character than the story at large, but still has a significant impact on the story. This got kind of rambly and long so I am putting it under a cut.
1. This isn't my first time seeing it, and I always find it odd that the assumption of people who were never that into Staged Finale is that the main point of the Staged Finale theory has been making c!Dream "better" somehow. Morally, that is. I don't doubt it's the reason some c!Dream apologists clung to theory, but it wasn't the reason I was in favor of it. I liked the idea of the Finale being staged not because it makes c!Dream Less Evil, but because it keeps him a consistent character. BlueBell talked about how genuine Finale made c!Dream inconsistent here.
2. The Disc Finale is staged. All of it. The Attachment vault, including the Skeppy Cage, were never going to be used. The monologue c!Dream gave c!Tommy about how he needed him to continue bringing attachment to the server was a lie. c!Dream was never going to kill c!Tubbo. You are right in saying this in no way diminishes how traumatizing the event was for c!clingyduo, but as I've said, that wasn't the point of it all. All of this doesn't serve to make c!Dream morally better as much as it serves to show just how complex of a character he is. In the Finale, he ticks off all the boxes of the Stereotypical Pure Evil Villain criteria: he has the evil monologues, the simplistic motivation of control, the arrogant dramatics, etc. Staged Finale reveals that the Stereotypical Villain was an act, a persona. This gives c!Dream a lot more depth and counters the perception many in the fandom have of c!Dream as the one exception to the server's "everyone is morally grey" rule. And I'd like to clarify that by saying c!Dream is morally grey, I'm not saying all his actions are justifiable, it's just that Morally Black or Morally White characters tend to lack depth and exist mainly to fill out a role in the narrative. c!Dream is not that character. He has his own internal worldview and does not exist solely to serve c!Tommy's, or anyone else's, narrative.
3. This is more a matter of opinion, but I always found the Disc Finale kind of sucky, as I talked about here. It followed conventional story structure but did so in a manner that didn't appeal to me. The Finale being staged has massive implications for the writing of the Dream SMP and what the writers are capable of when it comes to storytelling, especially when it comes to foreshadowing and long-term planning. What people put down to bad writing turned out to in fact be intentional. One of the most fascinating aspects of Staged Finale is that to further his plans, c!Dream utilized narrative conventions, in-universe, without breaking the fourth wall, which is something I have never heard of in a story before. He handcrafted a Hero's Journey for c!Tommy, and the perfection of it all was part of what made his plan so convincing both for c!Tommy himself and the fandom. This aspect of the Dream SMP story — characters using narrative conventions in-universe — is something I find very very interesting.
4. I do not think the initial reveal is the end of the Staged Finale's impact. Other characters will likely learn about it and have to deal with this new information, which will be interesting to witness. I'm especially interested in how c!Sam will react when he learns that c!Dream trusted him not to abuse his power. Especially considering how c!Sam grasps onto every opportunity of justifying himself. It'll be a trainwreck and I am going to enjoy it immensely. So even though it may seem like not much has changed, yet, I'm sure more changes are still to come.
There is probably more to be said on Staged Finale, especially by someone more knowledgeable in storytelling than me, but this is all I have on the matter. TL:DR It massively changes c!Dream's characterization, making him consistent, has great implications for the writing of the Dream SMP and is sure to have a bigger impact on the story than what we've seen so far.
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midgardianweasley · 3 years
Text
Keep you safe
Keep you safe
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader
Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?
Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff
Word Count: 1.8k words
Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist <3
Requests are open!
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“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.
“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”
“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”
“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”
“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.
Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.
“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.
“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”
“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”
“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.
“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”
“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”
“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.
“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.
“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”
“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”
“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”
“It’s protection.”
“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.
“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.
“Nat-”
“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.
Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?
“Clint? I thought you retired?”
“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”
“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.
“I know i can’t, but she can”
I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.
“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.
---
It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.
While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.
“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.
“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.
“Hi”
“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”
“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”
“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.
“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.
“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.
“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.
“Language!”
“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.
Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.
“Nat! Move!”
She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.
“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.
“Is there anything behind me?”
“Wha-”
“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.
“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.
‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.
With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.
“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.
---
My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.
A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.
“Hi”
“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.
“Am I okay? Really?”
“I-”
“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”
“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.
“You could have died”
“But I didn’t”
“But you could’ve, Y/N!”
“Love-”
“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.
“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.
After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.
“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips
“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”
“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.
“You’ll join?”
“I’ll join”
A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.
No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.
taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives
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pretoriafics · 3 years
Text
Sea business - Enemies to Lovers Week #2
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You know what? I really like Kevin. I feel sad about him :(
Word count: 1.185 Pairings: Reader x The Deep Contain: Fluff <3 Warnings: English is not my main language <3 THE BOYS MASTERLIST
To you, the sea was one of the most fascinating things on Earth.
Well, first of all, humans know more about space than about the oceans. You can't even imagine how many mysteries are hidden in the deepest parts of the sea. The marine life fascinates you even more. Oh, the ocean was so beautiful and dangerous...
Despite being so fascinated by the ocean, you had a traumatic past with it. Your dad was a fisherman, and a huge storm made his boat sink into the sea. His body was never found.
You love the Sea World, and the sound of the waves hitting the beach was calming to you. You always go to the beach when you need to calm down, or simply when you miss your dad.
The Deep was your favorite hero. However, when you were recruited by Billy Butcher, that feeling disappeared. You helped to kill Translucent, and now you and Kevin are enemies. He tried to harm you numerous times, as well as you did the same with him. He was selfish, stupid, and he was a harasser.
That specific day, you had an argument with Billy. That's why you went to the beach: to calm your nerves. You were sitting on the sands, looking at the sundown. Sometimes, you just want to run away from all that Supe crap. However, you knew that all of that was not about you. People needed justice for what The Seven does.
"Seems like we have more things in common than I thought."
A familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts. When you look to your side, you saw Kevin sat in the sands. He was with his body entirely wet. You deduced that he was in the sea just a few minutes ago.
You arch your eyebrows.
"Things in common? What? Selfishness? Superpowers?"
He looks at you, rolling his eyes.
"You like the sea. I know when someone does."
Well, he was right. You stare at the sundown again, with your forearms on your knees.
"Yeah, kind of."
You were not expecting to have some real conversation with Kevin. You hunt people like him, after all. Starlight and Kimiko were your two only exceptions.
"You would love to talk with dolphins. They got a great sense of humor."
You look at him again with arch eyebrows. Why was he trying so hard to have some real conversation with you? Well, actually, it was pretty comforting to find someone who likes the sea as you do. There's no problem talking with Kevin a bit, right? No personal stuff, just sea stuff.
"They are cute." You reply to him, trying to be nice. "I've always seen the dolphins at Sea World."
Kevin stares at you, scared.
"No, no. The Sea World does horrible things with the animals. I've heard awful things about that place."
This time, your eyes widened in pure shock.
"I didn't know about this. There's someone doing something about it?"
"No. I mean, I would love to do something, but the Vought..."
You heard Starlight saying things about Vought. The members can't support their own principles and causes. Being part of The Seven is grandiose, but it is also a prison. Vought has the power to annulate each member to get money and to maintain advertising. You think it is pretty sad. That is why lots of them forget about why they wanted to be a hero.
"They put a chain on you. You can't do anything. I know. I think you should fight for what you think is right, but... It doesn't sound so simple as that."
"It's not." He said, looking at the sands of the beach now. Kevin was thoughtful with your words. "And I feel bad about this and about what the animals in the sea are passing through. Pollution increased highly, they're in danger. It's sad because of the ocean..."
"...Is your home." You completed "And the place you felt you truly belong to. No judgments, no bad feelings. Just peace."
Kevin looks at you with a soft expression on his face. You could understand him. He gave you a gentle smile.
"Exactly."
"I know how you feel. When I'm on a tough day, the sea made me feel calm again. Feels like home."
Feels like your dad is with you again. You remind yourself about the Sundays at his boat, the fishing... It was your safe point and everything you needed after a stressful day. So, yeah, you could perfectly understand Kevin.
You look at him, and you saw something that scared you: Kevin was so lonely as yourself. Just like you, he was in a world that he can't fit in. Kevin needed desperately someone who could see him as Kevin and no as The Deep. In the sundown at the sands in the NYC beach, that was exactly what you saw: Kevin, a sensitive and lonely man who only had thousands of people interested in what he had to offer. A man who needed desperately someone who believes him and someone who could be his safe point. If he was not blinded by the status of being part of The Seven, he would be a great man.
Looking into his eyes, you saw the real Kevin and the good man that was hidden under a shell of selfishness and ambition.
You got curious about that man you met. Could you be able to fix him and bring him to the surface? Well, you can't try. In that war against the Supes, you were on opposite sides.
Dang! Kevin really made things with your head and with your heart.
"From all the people," He said, looking at you "I'd never expected to have this kind of conversation with you."
"The feeling is mutual." You said, standing up from the sand. You slide your hands on your shorts, cleaning the sand off your shorts "Well, Deep, I have to go."
He stood up as well, standing his hand to you.
"Kevin. Just call me Kevin."
Oh, wow. You shake Kevin's hand.
"Okay, Kevin. It was a nice talk. Enjoy the beach."
He gave you a soft smile. Well, he was a pretty smile. You turn your back, walking to the sidewalk direction. Then, you heard Kevin calling you.
"Hey! We still hate each other, right?"
You cross your arms, containing a smile. Not exactly. Actually, you find Kevin interesting. After a few seconds of hesitating, you said:
"I'd still kick your ass."
"I'm counting on it."
You both share a low laugh, and then you look at each other. Kevin was trying to memorize your smile. Due to the whole situation between both of you, he doesn't know he will ever be your smile again. But oh, he would love to see it again.
Man... Destiny has a weird sense of humor!
You turn your back, feeling your cheeks burning. You would never expect to feel that kind of feeling about a Supe, mainly about Kevin. However, no one plans to feel something about someone.
Man... Hunt him will be so much hard now.
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listless-brainrot · 3 years
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Hi! I know you love Haru and I'd love to hear your thoughts on what his personality is like? Not his bending or his ships, but just what kind of person he is. He was super undeveloped in ATLA and I'd love to understand him better and write about him!
hey, i'm glad you asked!! super flattering to have you come to me in regards to this question, and i've analyzed this guy to hell and back over the course of nearly a year now, so i'd be more than happy to give you my characterization of him
granted, it's pretty lengthy, and is heavily based on canon, hence why a lot of it ties to his bending, but i'll try my best to make it so that it's more about haru as a person, rather than his service to the plot
also makes me super happy to hear that people do want to understand and write about him!! that really does mean the world to me particularly, so thank you <3
with all of this in mind, here's a collection of my (pretty lengthy, sorry about that) thoughts:
haru being super undeveloped is actually one of the reasons why i find him so compelling- there’s so much you can do with a character of his caliber because there’s not much canon/supplementary material that can discredit your characterizations. canon, however, does actually supply a characterization of him that i’ve managed to compile and accrue over the course of finding nearly every single little detail i can find pertaining to him. this includes his canon episodes in both book 1 and 3, the videogame he appears in (which is straight up called avatar: the last airbender), and even the silly shorts.
(mild disclaimer, i know full well that the latter two i mentioned are considered non canon, but i like incorporating little bits and pieces of what they have to offer, as i don’t really have any other options. also, the videogames are the only supplementary material where he’s treated as a part of the gaang, so it’s the most personality you’ll ever get.)
i’ll start with main characteristics i try to keep in mind when writing him, and then talk about smaller, more innocuous details that i just find particularly fitting for him.
haru is:
emotionally driven. a lot of his decisions are more driven by emotion, rather than logic. this ties in with his impulsivity and morality. he’s aggravated by his position in the village as the only earthbender left, and this culminates into him still bending discreetly despite the inherent risk. he does this not only for himself, but to preserve the (possibly only) emotional connection he has to his arrested father. this is a similarity he shares with katara, who’s emotionally tied to her mother due to losing her, and haru is the one to understand what that loss really means in this interaction: “this necklace is all i have left of her.” “it’s not enough, is it?” by saying this instead of an apology or some other response, he shows that the feeling of loss she’s experiencing is mutually understood in a way that goes beyond just sympathy. there is nothing that will replace who you’ve lost other than the person themselves, and he understand that more than anyone. it’s also implied that haru doesn’t know if his father is still alive, as no one knows where the prisoners go, but it’s clear that he still holds a sort of hope that he’s somewhere out there, and that keeps him going. it just takes a little bit of outside influence for him to fully believe in that, as well as being reunited with his father again. in general, he’s also pretty receptive of other’s emotions, and is quick to come to their aid.
impulsive. not just impulsive, either- he’s got anger and resentment lying beneath his quiet composure. it’s not as bad as characters such as zuko’s, but it’s still worth mentioning. i’ll mention the impulse part first, though- generally speaking, haru reacts faster than he thinks. upon being spotted practicing his bending by katara, he runs away without pausing to consider the harmful repercussions of being found out (nor followed home). he not only runs away from danger as a first instinct, he also runs towards it in some cases, ironically enough- he’s the first one to notice and immediately run towards the mines once he hears/sees the explosion and suspects that someone’s in trouble. he does this without any prompting by katara, even if the act of actually saving the old man needed some egging on from her in order for him to accomplish. his impulsivity comes to a head in the form of his most dangerous act- him attacking the warden. i’ve already elaborated on that specific interaction here, though i will once again emphasize that haru had absolutely no plans past attacking the warden based on his body language, further fueling the idea that this was just a split second decision, one made on nothing but complete and utter impulse. to bring the anger aspect into this, he’s also unable to hold his tongue and insults the fire nation soldiers and even his town once the former leaves, and his instincts swing wildly between running and fighting on a dime with little in-between.
adaptable. instead of completely shutting down in the face of such a negative situation (and over the course of five years, no less), he brings it upon himself to practice bending, accept his role as man of the house and work in both the shop and on the farm, and other responsibilities that go unmentioned, especially when taking into account that his father is apparently the leader of his village. this is where you could start paralleling him well to sokka, which i have done before, but i will make this more haru-oriented. there is definitely a lot more to be inferred with this particular aspect of him, but i will say that it takes someone of strong will to adapt to the situations presented in his episode, and learning to live with the grim reality of fire nation occupation. to run down what we see again- soldiers freely patrolling the villages, soldiers overtaxing the villagers, soldiers entering wherever they wish unannounced, soldiers stealing away people in the night without much resistance, soldiers forcing villagers to work in the coal mines to gather the coal needed for their ships, and soldiers forcing captured earthbenders to build fire nation ships. this is all off of the top of my head, so i could be missing a lot, but again, seeing haru still be as morally oriented and determined as he is after all of this, it’s pretty impressive and telling of his adaptive capabilities. to take this one step further, he’s also extremely adaptable when it comes to working with others, as in the games he fills his role as a necessary component of the gaang without conflicting sokka or other preexisting roles, and in book 3, he finds his place amongst teo and the duke, taking the most initiative amongst the three.
lonely. a snippet from his personality bio on avatarspirit.net calls him “lonely and brave”, and i think that’s especially fitting for his character. he only had his mom for five whole years after every other earthbender was taken away, and this is without mentioning the ostracization he faced simply being one, given how the fire nation constantly demoralizes his country’s benders and likens them to savages. the village he lives in also appears to be full of old folks, so it’s not very likely that he had friends his age that were even in town, especially if we consider the circumstances of following book 2 episodes with the earth army recruiters. (it’s also unlikely that his friends are alive if they did join the army- take a gander at this line from zuko alone: Gow: Just thought someone ought to tell you, your son's battalion got captured. You boys hear what the Fire Nation did with their last group of Earth Kingdom prisoners? Soldier: Dressed them up in Fire Nation uniforms and put them on the frontline unarmed, way I heard it.  Then they just watched.) furthermore, it’s not likely that haru could’ve left his little village prior to its occupation- the games imply he’d been to omashu previously, but the circumstances of the war make this unlikely, unless he was super young. given his not always pleasant attitude and sullen expression we sometimes see him with, it’s not hard to imagine that the effects of him being so alone without the connections he needs has affected him deeply.
some other things:
-he’s horrible at lying (”they’re crazy! i mean, just look at how they’re dressed” is that really the best excuse you could’ve come up with??). -he doesn’t like keeping his hands/arms still (arms are usually crossed, sometimes gestures as he talks, hands usually balled as if expecting a fight). -he’s pretty outwardly expressive (for someone who’s supposed to be hiding most of the time, he tends to wear his emotions/intentions on his sleeve). -he can’t bite his tongue (especially when it comes to something that goes against his personal beliefs). -he doesn’t know how to react to touch (katara hugging him takes him by surprise both times, and he doesn’t reciprocate often, if anything he reacts stiffly) -he’s particular about his appearance (notably in the games, he makes negative comments about people touching his hair, and there’s also. sokka’s comments in book 3. sigh.) -he’s considered dangerous/sensitive by others (note sokka’s comments in book 1, and katara’s comments in the school time shipping short) -he lives a busy personal life (works both in the family shop and on the family farm, and has probably had to work in the coal mines at some point, though this is speculative) -he’s not above poking/having fun (in the games, he’s not above making fun of sokka and his comments about benders, and jumps at the opportunity to ride the omashu mail chutes) -he’s family oriented (count how many times he talks about his parents, it is many times i assure you, it’s important to note that he’s one of the few atla characters to actually have both parents as well as a decent relationship with them) -he has a tendency to idealize. he talks about his father fighting against the fire nation even when horribly outnumbered. it wouldn’t be surprising if he idealized the ideal of rebellion (which would later bite him given that:) -he’s a part of the first successful earth kingdom rebellion. this is mentioned on the wiki, and is unfortunately not shown in the show. it should’ve been, though. -he’s dramatic. he has an entire cliff he brings katara up to just to be dramatic and spill his sad backstory. he needs to be encouraged to save the old man, but he does it in the most dramatic way possible- he really didn’t have to stop the entire avalanche AND push it back into the mines. drama king. -he is very lucky. this can apply to anyone who encounters the gaang, but honestly, given his personality and a few things i’ve mentioned above, it’s a miracle that he’d survived as long as he did without detection nor suspicion. -he’s creative. (this one is much more speculative, but he does create huge statues of katara and ty lee pretty quickly, maybe he’s done similar things before)
to summarize: he’s a lonely impulsive idealist who isn’t afraid to throw hands if necessary and is also very attached to his dad <3 his connection to his dad makes up at least 75% of his personality
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stellocchia · 3 years
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Honestly, I'm a lot harder on and a lot harsher at characters that are in a position of authority.
Like, I'm aware that they're still a person with faults and shit. But I will also be more aggressive about them just because their mistakes have much more severe consequences
It's why I love dragging techno and exile era tubbo.
Tubbo because, yes. He was a child president and was manipulated by dream. Believe me I'm aware and thats a big factor in how I judge them anyways. But he was still the president. He tried to do what was right for his country but most of his decisions were still shit. Still. Great guy. The second that role as president was obliterated all my loathing evaporated.
Techno because.... Holy shit... Holy shit...
Like, you know how much I adored pogtopian techno (please come back. I miss you. Please-) but honestly. Maybe it wasn't just that. Maybe he became so much less likeable when it became clear that nothing was keeping him in check. That his "mistakes" and bad judgement will always go unchecked because he is at the very top.
It's also the reason I've been ready to deck Sam since Tommy was locked in with dream all those months back. I understand that he's still a person. But man. That's so much less of an argument when his incompetence keeps getting my faves killed.
Like. That'd kinda why I have a love hate relationship with cPhil? Because. I think it's hilarious how... Pathetic he is. This man is a tool. It's hilarious how an ancient angel of the goddess of death has no clue what's going on like a senile old man finding out that mobile phones are more than just small portable telephones. "Wait, you can write to people with this?" "What do you mean there's more games than candy crush?" "Internet? I've heard of that on the news! They say people become victims of crime on there!"
Like. Holy fuck. I'd say that I've never seen a more ignorant character in my life but he lives with technoblade so theres the actually most ignorant character right there.... Maybe... Then again, techno DOES know about the pogtopia stuff... Then again... He does gaslight himself so he might as well not have been there at all...
I've gotten sidetracked.
Anyways. Phil is hilariously flawed, incompetent and has never made a good decision since he's joined the server. I'd say inviting in ranboo is a neutral decision... Just because that's too complicated.
So Phil is pretty fun to think about! Until I remember that he's the servers biggest fan of assisted suicide, keeps helping out the tyrants and destroyed most of the servers lifes. Is a fucking asshole to Fundy.... He's just.... Yeah...
And Phil doesn't even have authority the way the others I mentioned had! He just hangs with that one fucker all the time!
So imagine my frustration with the characters who actually do have authority!
Like. Yknow how society's kinda based on the principle of: I limit my freedom (like. Not killing and not stealing. Yes. That's limiting your freedom.) And in exchange I am protected and cared for (people that kill and steal aka harm people like me are persecuted (this is not about how well this gets executed irl. This is a base principle))
With authority it's kinda similar
When you get a position of authority you get freedom and control over something and people have to listen to you. Sam has total control over the prison, people have to respect his authority as the warden. And in exchange you get the responsibility for the things that go wrong. No matter what explanation. No matter how out of control the situation was for you. It's on you.
With great power comes great responsibility and shit.
Idk where I was going with this but in short: I will always be way more critical of the mistakes and faults and flaws of people in powerful positions. So fuck you Technoblade. Go suck a dick.
Yeah, I get your point. I also don't really have anything to add, but I'm the same way honestly. Just, characters that are in positions of power and put up a pretense about being somewhat righteous (like Techno and Phil saying they were destroying a nation and traumatizing everyone involved to "free the people" as if they hadn't just destroyed the lives of the people they were supposed to be freeing...) frustrates me often. Like, I'm fine with someone like Dream because I can openly call him a dick for abusing his power to ruin other people's lives and normally I don't get harassed for it. Same with Quackity actually. Just... everyone else... not really.
So yeah, I guess I'm less harsh with authority figures who aren't depicted as "morally gray" just because talking about their canon actions is generally not considered criticism worthy of harassment... (with the exception of Twitter).
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cipher-fresh · 2 years
Text
pov you're one of will graham's students
Sure, he was weird. You kind of needed to be if you were in the profession. Death hangs over our heads more solemnly than most people, you've got to be able to crack a joke about it every so often or you'd go nuts. We give our respect to the dead, of course, but we respect them more by preventing further murders. Everyone knows what they've signed up for in an FBI program like this, but still- Professor Graham was odd. He didn't really have any sort of teaching degree- they put him on a two-week course about handling students and sent him on his way. That's what he told us, anyway. It's not like he was even a bad teacher considering, and he always had an energy to his lessons. He communicated efficiently, and although sometimes he feels like he'd forget his head if it wasn't attached to his body, nobody walked out of his class bored. Some research into our teacher, his first name was Will, and he'd been removed from the FBI for something, like an honorable discharge. I think we thought he got injured or something? A few of us had been looking for what specifically happened when we studied together, but none of us had found anything too specific.
Halfway through the semester, he disappeared. We got another teacher, but our never teacher didn't feel the same as him. Professor Graham was working with homicide detectives into the resurgence of the Chesapeake Ripper. Nobody heard much about him until a few months after that, where he was accused of murdering 4 or 5 people, and he went to the BSHCI. Some people from his trial were murdered, there was a mistrial, then the was released because those people were murdered in a similar way to the way he was accused of. So he'd been framed. Wild, right? This isn't even the most insane part. I'd kept up with the trial, because I'd liked him as a teacher and I did think he was weird. I'd liked him, and the idea that he'd killed so many people and infiltrated the FBI churned my stomach. He'd be a case study for years about the ethics of exposing people to so much murder and blood, but hearing he was declared innocent was a relief. My class would have missed out on semi-viral Reddit popularity by admitting we'd been taught about murder by a real murderer, but it's cruel to wish someone was guilty, y'know?
I didn't hear anything else about him for a while- seeing the pictures out from the trial and from Tattlecrime.com was eerie. But that's just it- Freddie Lounds posted on Tattlecrime the other day, Professor Graham insulting that new serial killer the Tooth Fairy- speculating on his home life and everything. Still with me? Okay, and just a few hours ago- the news has reported that serial killer Hannibal Lecter escaped during a prisoner move and Professor Graham either went with him, or chased after him, and then he was in turn, chased by the Tooth Fairy. And then they found that guy dead, drowning in a pile of his own blood by some house, and an additionally drowned-in-blood Professor Graham and Hannibal Lecter, their dead bodies floating in the ocean. What on earth happened?
Every single comment about him on ratemyprofessor.com is about him being covered in dog hair. I'm perplexed. He was acquitted of those murders but there's definitely something else going on here.
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Dangerous Love (Pt. 11 of 13)
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Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader
Word count: 3K
Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?
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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}
×
Plans For The Future
You're seated on your knees, on the floor, before the coffee table where several sheets of paper are scattered around. The possibilities for your future. You left the League in the cave to discuss their business and came up here to do this. But it's been twenty minutes since you wrote down the last option, and you're still clueless.
“Any luck?” Barry is suddenly seated across from you, the wind he makes with he's speed messing with the papers. But he quickly gathers them again.
“No,” you mutter, feeling a little defeated. Seconds later the others are here too, and as if they were told to, they sit all around the coffee table, on the floor. Expect for Bruce, who sits on the couch, his legs near you.
“Isn't there anything you would like to do?”
“I can't really picture myself doing anything.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh.
“You were so excited about it in the cave. What changed?" Diana asks, and you notice how everyone seems focused on you. In the last week, since they got back from Washington, the League seems very interested in you. There's a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, and engage you in their conversations.
“Am I going crazy or are you guys like... Trying to make me get used to normal human interaction again?” Crossing your arms, you have your answer by the way they all exchange a glance and then stare at Bruce. “I knew it.”
“How did you find out?”
“Well, right now everyone is literally seated around the coffee table with me. Except for this weirdo here.” You elbow Bruce's leg, making Barry and Arthur giggle. “You're planning to take me out, aren't you?”
“You're very perceptive.” He says as he moves to seat on the floor with you, an arm around your shoulders. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I can deal with the real world?” You ask him in a lower voice. You haven't been on the streets yet, and you're not sure how you'll feel among the people.
“Yes, I do.”
“You know people will think Bruce Wayne has a girlfriend, right? If we go out and you do things like hold my hand...” You bet it won't take half an hour for his name to be on the headlines again, and the news channels will talk about it. The world will know about your existence, and every girl who has her eyes on Bruce will know they lost their chance. “You'll have to keep a distance.”
“(Y/N), we're dating. I won't keep that a secret so yes, people will have to find out eventually.” He places a soft kiss on your nose before his lips connect to yours.
“Uhm... We're still here...” Barry mutters, reminding you of the public.
Weird how it only took half a second for you to forget you have company. “So... Now that I know why you guys are still around, help me find something to major in.”
“Let's see what you have here.” Diana starts, and everyone takes a piece of paper or two. “Doctor?”
“Nope. That was just a joke.” Bending over the table a little, you take the paper from her hand. “Moving on.”
“Nurse," Arthur says.
“Vet.” Clark reads.
“All jokes.” Wanting something isn't enough, you have to feel like you can do it. And you don't think you can.
“If you become a nurse you could patch him up.” Arthur gestures at Bruce who nods.
“Sweetheart if this is what you want you just need to say and I'll help you.”
“Me? A nurse? No way, it's too much for me. I need something easier.” You're not saying you're stupid, but why put effort into something on which you'll probably fail? No need to hurt your feelings.
“So you don't think you're smart enough?” Clark asks and you nod.
“If you weren't smart you wouldn't have survived this long as a criminal. And wouldn't have escaped the prison twice. Or fooled the Joker so many times.” Bruce says, and you tilt your head to the side a little, thinking. It did take some brain to do this stuff, calculations, memorization, and some random knowledge.
“It looks like this is what you want,” Arthur mumbles, elbows on the coffee table.
Nurses help people, and that's the exact opposite of what you did. You never really enjoyed hurting people though, at least not normal civilians.
“Yeah... I've been thinking about being a practitioner nurse.”
“You've been doing some research on the subject then.” Wonder Woman raises an eyebrow.
“Yes. They can diagnose diseases, initiate treatments, and prescribe medications. They're more independent.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean closer to Bruce. “But I don't know. Maybe we should keep looking into the other options.” Pretending you're not insecure is useless. Building a life is both exciting and terrifying.
“No. I guess we found what you want to do.” Bruce says and kisses your cheek. You bite back a smile, but it escapes anyway. “Anything as long as you're happy.”
“I can die in peace now,” Arthur says, and everyone turns their heads to look at him. He simply gestures at you and Bruce as if it would explain everything. “I lived enough to see Batman being soft with someone. The rest of my life will be dull.”
It took long enough for the funny comments to start. “Let the man be, Arthur. Everyone softens when they find love.” Diana adds.
“Aren't you a little too young to be dating Bruce actually?” Barry asks, shrugging his shoulders. “Just-just saying.”
“I haven't really thought about that,” you say.
“I have,” Bruce admits.
“Obviously. In this relationship you're the morals part.” You start gathering the sheets of paper, making a small pile. “I'm the impulse part.”
“Impulse part?”
“I did kiss you out of impulse. I was trying to control myself for quite a while but the thought of another suicide mission finally made me give in.” Looking at him, you smirk. “What would you do if I didn't kiss you before the mission? Were you planning to tell me about your feelings?”
“Shouldn't we discuss that in private?” He raises an eyebrow, and you give the guys a glance before looking back at Bruce.
“We don't mind. Go on.” Barry mutters, getting an annoyed stare from Diana.
“Let's give them some time." She says before getting up. The others soon follow, but Barry is the last.
“The fast one seems very curious about Batman's love life,” you say in a sassy tone when you're left alone.
“He turned the mission in Washington a nightmare the moment I mentioned you.” Bruce moves closer, caressing your cheek.
“And how was that?”
“I told them we had to make it as quick as possible because I had someone to go back to.” He places a soft kiss on your lips and you can't help but smile. You can't believe that someone was you. “Then he just wouldn't let it go. And yes, I was planning on telling you how I felt.”
“What would you do if the feeling wasn't mutual?” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you move to sit on his lap.
“I was pretty sure you felt something for me.”
“Really? I was trying so hard to hide it.”
“Miss Quinzel. Master Bruce. Dinner is served.” Alfred announces and you're just about to stand up when Bruce lifts you up with him.
“Because that will make Barry stop sassing at you,” you tell him, not even bothering to ask him to put you down. He can carry you all the way he wants. It feels funny though, and good to float like this. But the best part is how close your faces are, so you take the chance to kiss him as he takes you to the dining room.
Dinner goes on very well. The chattering is constant, and you manage to get into the conversations. You do feel like you're getting along with the League. Maybe you'll do well with other people too. If you can deal with the supers, you can deal with regular humans. It gives you hope, makes you a little more excited to go out. For dessert, you have brownies, one of your favorites, with vanilla ice cream.
“(Y/N), you said something about a suicide mission?” Barry asks after Diana gives you more details about the Washington mission. “What was that about?”
“Yeah... It was a terrorist attack in New Mexico. They mounted a base there but we never knew their plans.”
“They send you in a mission completely in the dark?” Diana furrows her eyebrows.
“We're the Suicide Squad. Well, that's what we call ourselves. The official name is Task Force X.” You move in the chair a little, but you notice you're not as uncomfortable as you were before talking about it. Bruce says you have to accept who you were in order to be free to restart. Trying to ignore it will only allow the past to haunt you. “When the soldiers can't deal with it but it's still not bad enough to call the heroes, they send us. The whole point is that it doesn't matter if we die in the process. The order is to finish the mission. We're... Spendable.”
“I never heard of anything like that,” Clark says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Nobody is supposed to know. But it doesn't matter anymore. The mission was a success and I'd be fine with it if the guards didn't beat me up on my way back here.” You say it without really noticing what it means, but by the way they exchange glances with each other, there are questions in their heads. “Some of them knew me from Belle Reve. So they knew I was going back somewhere they wouldn't be able to punish me for my crimes. They said it was a taste from home.”
“Everyone who was in that van was fired.” Bruce's voice is heavy with anger. “And I doubt they'll get any other job in Gotham.”
“If you're in prison to pay for your crimes, why did they beat you? Isn't the confinement the punishment?” Barry raises his eyebrows, and Arthur nods.
“Uhm... Yes. In any other prison, yes. But Belle Reve is different. It's like we're not on Earth anymore they... They can do pretty much anything they want. Every man and woman who acts as our guards are military or ex-military. Soldiers... And they have so much hate for us.” The memories come back in flashes of lightning, flooding your mind. The pain is still a vivid dream, the darkness is still terrorizing. “I can only speak for myself but I'm sure almost everyone who gets there tries to fight, to run away. I did. And maybe... Maybe I deserved it, maybe what they did was right.”
“(Y/N), don't you think for a second that you deserved what they did to you. Just because someone is a criminal doesn't give them the reason to treat you like an animal.” Bruce takes your hand over the table, and you smile to feel his fingers brushing against the soft skin of the back on your hand.
“They don't treat animals like they treat us.” The acknowledgment is dark and heavy, and you feel as the atmosphere gets tense. The League seems uncomfortable, perplexed.
“What the hell happens in that place?” Diana is the first to speak up after several seconds of deep silence.
“I can only tell what happened to me. By the rumors, it depends on who we are. Killercroc, for example, is left alone in a hole on the ground. Me... I always fought back.” Taking a deep breath, you revisit the endless days you spent in hell. The longest year of your life. The terror was usually suffocated by anger, burning rage, but it was always there, creeping through the walls. “I was kept in the dark. The only light source came from the small gap under the door. It had a blueish glow. My cell was open three times a day, at 10 a.m., 04 p.m., and 08 p.m. The two first were to feed me. They put a straw through my nose all the way down to my throat and fed me with some kind yogurt.” You cringe at the memory, a shiver rolling down your spine. “The last one was the shower. If you can call that a shower... They made me take my clothes off and back up into a concrete wall and blast me with water from a hose. If the weather was hot, the water was ice cold... If it was cold, the water was so hot that it burned my skin.” As you speak, Bruce moves his chair closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.
“You don't have to tell us anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” Clark says in a low voice.
“No, it's ok... It's good to say it. To... Let it out.” Holding it inside has only screwed you up over and over again. Dealing with it alone has isolated you. And you don't want to be alone anymore. “Before or after the shower was usually when the beat me. Men, women... They didn't really mind if they were a 6ft tall man kicking me. The drugs, the... Several different kids of drugs they gave me numbed the pain, but it was worse, at least to me.” The tears are rolling down now, as you're looking at the table, holding Bruce's hand as if he's your anchor. “I knew my body was being broken, sliced, bones being fractured but I only felt the impact. It's a psychological torture they play alongside the physical one. They liked to know that I was feeling my body being hurt, but I could never feel it... The drugs never wore off, so they never treated to my wounds. I was always left there, in my cell, as the blood dried, as the darkness threatened to suffocate me but I always told myself I was Havoc. I was freaking Havoc and I did not only deserve that, but I also could deal with it. That I was used to the pain...”
“Alright, that's enough.” Bruce raises his voice, and you notice you were yelling. He pulls you close and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“I speak for everyone here when I say we're very sorry for everything you've been through,” Diana says, and you feel a hand on your shoulder. When you look up, you see that not only her but all the others are standing around you and Bruce. “And I'm sorry I brought up such terrible memories.”
“Thank you.” Your voice sounds terribly weak, and Bruce dries off some of the tears with his thumb. When you get up, Diana holds both your hands on hers.
“I want you to know that you have me now. To talk, to ask for help, anything.” Your eyes quickly fly through the others when they nod.
“More than Bruce's friend, you're our friend now,” Arthur says.
“So now you not only have friends but superfriends.” Barry steps ahead and pulls you into a hug. You're surprised at the sudden affection, but it feels nice. The others join you soon, and you're in the middle of a group hug.
Not for a single moment in your life you thought you'd ever had anything like this. “Guys, you know you don't have to do this,” you mutter because you can't help but think you don't deserve it, that you're not the victim. Guess you still have a lot to work on, and Bruce is right to still give you some therapy sessions.
“Of course we do. You're an incredible woman who overcame so much. And you truly seem to want to leave the past behind.”
“Clark's right. You're the proof that villains aren't too far beyond repair.” Arthur says with a smile.
“Thanks again.” You're blushing a little because you think they see you as more than what you are now. But it's good to know they believe you.
An hour later, you're on Bruce's bedroom, getting ready to sleep. You're reading about Gotham's University as Bruce brushes his teeth, getting a little confused by how complicated it seems to be accepted there.
“Bruce, all these papers... I don't know if I have them.” You complain, suddenly losing hope.
“I'll deal with them, don't worry.” He comes to the bed, sitting beside you and resting his back against the pillowy headrest. “Worry about studying.”
“And about the fact I'll be surrounded by people all the time.” You sigh, putting the tablet on the nightstand. “It's still confusing, you know. Terrifying sometimes.” You're used to making people fear you, and when that's not possible, they just hate you. Hurt you. You're not sure how you'd manage to stay in between. To be normal.
“The classes only start next semester, so you'll have some months to get used to people.” Bruce pulls you to lie down, and you lay your head on his chest. “Tomorrow we're going out.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. We'll walk around, buy you some new clothes, eat at a nice restaurant...” He caresses your hair, making it hard to keep your eyes open. “I'll be right there with you, so no need to get anxious.”
“Okay...” Noticing you're a little thirsty, you roll your eyes as you get up. “I need water. Do you want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“I'll be right back.” Crawling out of the bed, you make your way downstairs, straight to the kitchen. You hear low voices, so you walk slower, making sure you won't interrupt anything. When you get there, you see it's Diana and Barry, who's eating your ice cream. “Hey, guys,” you announce yourself.
“Hi, (Y/N),” Diana says as Barry waves with the spoon.
“You know this ice cream is mine, right?” Raising an eyebrow, you try to look mad. It apparently works because he gives an apologetic look and lowers the spoon.
“Sorry.” He mutters as you walk around the island, getting a spoon for yourself, sitting beside him and starting to eat too.
“Relax. It seems that I have to share now.” You keep the sarcastic tone, but Barry still doesn't seem to understand. “I'm joking. You can eat it, it's just ice cream.” You smile when he starts eating again. “Don't you want some, Diana?”
“No, thank you.” She raises the mug she's holding. “I usually just drink some tea before going to sleep.”
“Yeah. I just eat. I need a lot of calories.” Barry says with his mouth full of ice cream. “What about you?”
“Actually I just came to get some water. Bruce is waiting for me upstairs.” You forgot about the water, but now you feel thirsty again, so you get a glass and head to the fridge.
“You guys sleep together?” He asks.
“Barry.” Diana reprimands him, and that makes you giggle a little.
“We share the bed.” Shrugging your shoulders, you speak as you pour some cold water on the glass, closing the fridge and making your way back to where you were seated. “I have... Nightmares. They were more often before, but they still come. But when I'm with Bruce it's just... It's better.” You feel safe, secure, but you're too shy to tell them that. It's too much that you're telling about the nightmares, but it's a good sign that you're able to open up, even if it's just a little bit.
“You love Bruce, don't you?” Diana asks in a low voice.
Looking down at your half-full glass of water, you nod. Love isn't the word you use to express your feelings for Bruce, but that's just because you're way too scared to let those three words flow out. ‘I love you.’ You've been biting your tongue for quite a while now. Those words hold power, you know it, and you're scared that he doesn't feel the same way. “Don't tell him,” you beg, looking up at Diana.
“Why?” As she asks, Barry takes the ice cream and gets up, leaving the kitchen.
“Girl talk.” He mumbles on his way out. And yes, you feel a little more comfortable knowing it's just Diana.
“Because maybe it's too soon and... If he doesn't feel the same I'm afraid it'll push him away.” Your feelings for Bruce only grow, and even though being in love with someone is something new, you know how things should play out. Or you think you do. The fact that he's Batman and you're Havoc, a villain he tried to catch before, only makes everything worse.
“I know Bruce. He would never officialize a relationship if he wasn't one hundred and ten percent sure of his feelings.” She moves from her place at the table to seat across from you on the island. “And I understand that what you did before may get in the way but it only makes me even more sure about his feelings towards you. So yes, I think he loves you and there's no reason for you to be so scared.”
Taking a deep breath, you try to accept that. “How could he love me?” You inquire in a low voice because you can't help but go back, to remember who you were and what you did. You do regret it, and you do want different things now, to have a whole new life. But... Sometimes the fear of losing Bruce hits hard, and you start going back to your shell.
“Why don't you let me answer that?” His voice makes you jump, and you stand up abruptly. Your heart beats so fast that you can hear it on your ears, like drums.
“I'll get some sleep. Good night, (Y/N). Bruce.” Diana stands up and leaves the kitchen, as you stand there, looking at Bruce.
“You weren't supposed to hear any of that,” you mumble.
“But I'm glad I did. Let's head upstairs. We need to talk.” Nodding, you start following Bruce. “I need to make things clear with you, sweetheart.”
×
@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker
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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years
Text
A/n:This has been on my drafts for too long now. Is not one of my best works but is certainly something that I thought a lot when I first read the chapter and comung to understand Pops and Kai relationship as father and son. I hope this not come as petty or ahitty like some works of mine because this one I meant it to be... special.
Allert for murder and suicide mentions
Only by a miracle
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"Why if I do even need to ask for? Just bullshit ..." he asked, barely bothering to look in your direction while he watched the news ... at least try to pretend he cared.
After the raid of the hassaikai, the league of villains; especially because of Shigaraki; taking his arms, taking away what little significance was left for the poor man, Chisaki had simply put everything aside ... his interest in things and knowledge, his goal of "cleaning the world", even of at least care about his physical and especially mental state ... the reason why you two are having this conversation right now. The only thing that he seemed to not have lost hope or interested thankfully was you.
"I just thought that maybe it was something to help you ... "you answered quietly, gently approaching and sitting right next to him" a psychologist may be a good idea especially after everything ... happened. That co-worker of mine can help and- "
"With all due respect (Y / n), I'd rather rot in Tartarus than accept someone else's help ... After all," he sighed, an empty, melancholy look in his golden eyes "that's what I deserve . "
"Stop." you immediately spoke right away, eyes burning with the urge to cry at his words. "Please, we already had this conversation ... you don't deserve it." leaning your head on his shoulder you can feel how tense his body was but soon relaxed ... as if he had actually released a weight from his shoulders.
 
sighing, your boyfriend finally seemed to slowly return to the real world than the torment that had turned his head as he looked at you.
"You're going on yours at least I hope." you nodded, gritted your teeth and widened your eyes when you saw the familiar green hair of the boy responsible for literally almost beating Kai.
You tried to take control before Kai saw it but already feeling his body tensing and the way his shoulders started to shake you already knew that he had already seen the boy.
You barely remedy what you at least think of the boy named Deku ... upset and irritated because he beat your boyfriend along with the other almost hero Lemillion beat his boyfriend or pity and fear if Chisaki happened to find him. As much as he no longer had his arms, he was still strong ... you have already witnessed several tantrums and breakdowns of his in the last few monthswhwre he had torned the small apartment you two lived now down ... his depression and panic attacks and paranoia were horrible .... but with sure what hurt you the most was when he woke up from a nightmare ... feeling a torturous pain in the place where his arms were supposed to be ... but all this was psychological pain. kai knew how much it affected you, and knowing that you were too stubborn to leave him, he insisted that you do therapy instead of him.
"Let's...turn this off." you mumbled before taking the remote and turning off the tv after turning to him and massaging his shoulders until he saw that he had calmed down at least a little.
"You know ... how about you come with me tomorrow?" you commented, happy that you had finally unlocked him a little "The same place where my therapist is where he is hospitalized and-"
"No ... he would be the last person who would at least enjot my presence angel." you frowned, your hope to at least pay a visit to the poor elderly in a coma fails again. You knew the amount of guilt and sorrow Chisaki carried of putting Pops on a coma, but behind that cold facade and th walls he had constructed, you knew better... You knew that he his intentions truly weren't on the bad side, but even you had to agree he had gone way too far on his path.
Sighing, you stood up, making Kai look i to your eyes questionably before you kissed his cheek lovingly mumbling that you were going to make his favorite for the dinner, smiling sadly at how he sighed and leaned on you, mumbling how he didn't deserves you and such things.
You went to the kitchen before jumping at your notification on your cellphone and beaming happilh at your door frame.
"Ne ne! Hon!" You put the box you just had received and openes for him to see, hoping to see him lighten up a bit.
You smiled and almost teared up when he gave one look at the box and let out a weak chuckle, looking at you with adoration.
"Seems like I wont be needing feeding anymore." He commented as you jumped on him to cage his frame on a hug as tears threteaned to spill from your eyes.
That was the first time in months Chisaki had come close to even smilling... things were slowly starting to get better... but yet, you knew it was never going to return back the way it was... and the worst?
You knew that not only you felt something was missing.
~
The next day you woke up feeling your boyfriend's arms prototics holding you close to your chest, the back of your neck feeling the warmth of his breath while his lips lightly brushed your skin. You mumbled to yourself seeing the schedule and gently raising the fake arms for you to slip past them to get out of the bed. Uou smiled when you saw and heard how Chisaki complained in his sleep at the loss of your warm, getting close to him and giving him a kiss first on his temple then lightly on his lips, stroking his hair for good measure.
Getting ready and leaving a note for Kai to see when he wakes up, you left your apartment for another appointment with your therapist ... after of course going to a flower shop.
~
"Good luck with your father-in-law, young lady"
"Thank you doctor" you responded by leaving the office and walking through the hospital corridors, avoiding the eyes of doctors and nurses when you passed and went to the room where he was. You entered with the permission of the secretary, your heart and body always seemed to freeze when seeing Pops in the vegetative state, machines saving him from death but not bringing him back from the coma that Kai had put him in.
"Good morning Pops." you whispered, exchanging the dead flowers on the table next to the machines to replace them with the new ones you had bought before your consultation "I came as every time."
Taking a chair and dragging it to the side of the bed you sat down with a sigh before smilling at the sleeping elder.
"... we miss you. All of us, both subordinates and me and ... Kai." you bit your lip before you started saying "I don't know if you can really hear me every time I say this, but I swear to you that Kai just wanted to make you proud... Pops if you knew how much he suffers and regrets doing this to you ... " you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your sweater. You looked at the old man's face ... resting on the hospital bed for months now.
"Doctors say that even at your age you are a fighter." you giggled before returning your attention "... I tried to bring him here but he feels so guilty that he has no courage to come face you again .... please if one day you wake up again, forgive him, please... you were the only one he trusted and respected since childhood ... "you sighed before taking the bag and giving the elderly a small and careful hug as he used to do while he was awake" I ask a thousand pardons for him... I’ll be back next week Pops, maybe I can get him to come here next time! " you giggled sadly before frowning. Saying a little goodbye, you went towards the door ... but when you touched the maceneta you froze, hearing the sound of the mattress twinks and the fabric of the sheets moving ... looking slowly over your shoulder you gasped in astonishement and shock, bringing your hands to cover your mouth while your eyes watered when you saw tired gray eyes and the little smirk that the elderly person gave you in your bed even with numerous tubes in it.
"How good it is to see you again my dear. How long have I been away?"
~
"Sir is truly a miracle that you woke up from this coma honestly." The doctor said in astonishment as you awkwardly finsighed mumbling explaining all what had happened during the elder's absence.
"The shie hassaikai members are ALL on jail?" Pops asked calmly but you cringed hard at seing how wide were his eyes as you nodded.
"We're... trying to pay Chro- I m-mean Kurono! To get out of prison though... is a start." You clenched your jaw as Pops muttered something to God as he burried his face on one of his hands.
"Well." The doctor smiled at you both as she made her exit "You still have to spend one week to check up, but soon you will be able to go away wuth your..?"
"Daughter in law." The elder sighed, finally lifted his head up to show his gratitude to the medic before she left. Looking back at you "How is my granddaughter? Eri? I suppose you didn't know about the plan that boy had on his mind."
"Y-yeah.. She is on the hands of the hero Eraserhead, as far as I know of, the U.A took her custody to help her to control her quirk for real this time." You grabbed his hand and squezzed assuringly "She is on good hands Pops. I promise you."
"For once." He sighed before giving you a smile. Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself to pick it up.
"Hey hon.." you spoke as Pops furrowed hsi eyebrows, mentioning with his hands that he also wanted to hear.
"Where are you? Your apointment should had ended by one half an hour ago?" The nonchantly voice of Chisaki made you worry about how Pops body seemed tense as he montioned for you to jot speak a thing about him.
"U-uh... it got longer?"
"You're shit at lying, you know that right?" Pops smirked while you blushed a bit.
"Sorey sorry.." you rubbed the back of your neck a bit "I-I went to that place where they sell those sweets you like, that's all."
You heard a sigh and frowned at how tired your boyfriend sounded as he spoke on a vulnerable tune you had grew used to on the past few months... but Pops widened his eyes, almost not recognizing the vouce behind that cellphone.
"Just hurry up and get back home... I feel like one of those is about to come again.." he spoke as if that were a burden, you hummed immediately promising him to be home soon before saying how much you lobed him and hanging up.
"One fo those?"
"For these past few months he had gotten depression and some PTSD attacks..."
"Hironic." The eldery sarcastically chuckled with bitter as he leaned up his back on the mattress "He was the one to put my grandauther through hell, put me on a coma, ruin the whole bussines of my family and now, he is the one with depression." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. Taking a breath in, knowing that was something that could happen you talked back.
"I know the things he had done were wrong Pops... but believe me when I say he just wanted to-"
"(Y/n) my dear. As much as I know how generous you are, you can't actually try to be on Chisaki's side this time." He glared at you as you gulped "I lost count on how much I tried talking him out of those absurd ideas of his, but as always a stubborn one, he continued on and left the path I tried to teach him for years."
"Well, with all respect sir, you cant totally blame him if he was raised by a mafia boss no less." You grumbled as the elder narrowed his eyes at you for the first ever time.
"I taught him manners. He was the one who didn't followed them. Preffering to take this dark and horrific path. The yakusa is superior to villains and what he does? Becomes one of them despite fighting others that we are not? Is he bipolar now?!"
"Pops please just listen to me... We both know he suffered before you took him in, he feels in debt with you ever since that day."
"And he retributes me with this. Putting me on a coma."
"Pops I-"
"Stop defending him kid!" He yelled and you flinched away from him in shock "That man put my own grandaughter through hell and used her as some lab rat experiment, and now not only i lost my own daughter but her as well!"
Silence consumed the room... you felt at the verge of crying before taking a huge breath in determination. You wont let him, you wont let the man who created the one you love speak like that without you giving him a reason.
"Kai done these things, thats for sure ... but his whole life he felt trapped by the fact that he never got to repay you. He had absurd ideas for that? Of course, I will not cover up his errors. But I am not going to let even you Pops speak like that. Since you already knew he wasn't listening to you, why didn't you take him away from Shie Hassaikai's work and just put more pressure on him saying that he would, one day, be the new boss? Your sucessor no less?! " he remained his glare to his hospital room window "... he just wanted you to be proud of him .. so he still protects Shie Hassaikai's honor ... Pops do you even know that he lost only his arms still fighting to give you something?!" You cried as the old man opened his eyes wide and finally looked back at you "For the past months he and I have been in our personal hell, he has nightmares every night! Do you even happen to remember that you had to comfort him the first night he slept at your house? imagine the attack only ten times worse! do you even know how it was to see him begging me for me to kill him ?! "you sobbed while the man was still in shock to hear what you said and your state.
"my dear why are you still going through this?" he said almost breathlessly while you wiped your tears, almost leaving the room.
"Because I love your son ... and I know he loves you in his own weird and antisocial way ... Please I know that it is very difficult to forgive him, but I beg Pops ... try it... both of you only have each other now...." you sighed and left the room without even saying goodbye to him or the nurses asking if you were okay.
~
Two weeks had passed after that. You remained a secret that Pops woke up from his coma to prevent Chisaki to fell on one of those nerve train racking thoughts of his...
"You win this ever time, is not fair." You whined as your boyfriend smiled, replacing the many pieces back on the shoji board back again.
"So why do you even still insist on playing it then with me no less dearest?" He asked, not exactly expecting an answer before he froze at the way you kept looking at him with love.
"Because is your favorite game. And I love seing you happy while playing it." You giggled at the immediate scoff to hide his blush as he closed his eyes, his black mask preventing you to show his smile as he mumbled an affectionate "crazy woman".
You giggled even more at that. Things were surely better than they could have been. Thanks to your teraupist you were also able to help your own boyfriend... his attacks had stopped and you never felt more relieved to see that the bags from beneath his eyes were slowly dissapearing.
"Ugh... im hungry!!!" You whined loudly again, rolling over to lay your head on his lap as he looked down at you with an arched eyebrow.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"Take out." You proclaimed before he flipped your nose.
"Absolutely not. Is disgusting." He growled as you whined and put your bottom lip out.
"One time it won't hurt! Pleaseeee???? Please my devil??" You smiled mentally at seing the tip of his ears going red "please my handsome cutie softie delicious-" he hushed you with one of his fake finger son your lips as he growled.
"Fine fine, have your way brat. Jesus Christ you're so spoiled." He offered you one of his last used, that the police couldn't track, credit cards as you lowered his mask to kiss him.
"Says who again?" You giggled before sighing in bliss when he brought you close, you stradling his lap as you circled his neck with your arms, contained your noises as he trailed his kisses down to your jaw.
It has been so long since you two had-
You both growled when your cellphone ringed, but Kai still stood on his track as he mumbled in your ear for you to pick up... although he still continued to carres your thighs as he vould feel them again and lay kisses in the crook of your neck.
You widened your eyes though whem you saw that it was from the hospital... you had beem visiting and making conpany to Pops even despjte the argument you had gotten to him, but now it seemed he was free to go... shit. You couldn't hide this anymore from Kai.
Although you gasped back to the current reality when you felt a certain... hardness on his lap.
"If you tell me you have to go Im setting this place on fire." He mumbled in your neck as you whined. That surely must be the worst cockblock you two had in your relationship. You nodded as he growled again, making yourself out of his laps, he let you go hesitantly.
"What is even about this time?" He said nonchantly as he adjusted his hair back.
"I... have to go to the hospital."
"Is that therapist of yours again?" He asked in annoyance as you left in a hurry, crossing his arms and auspecting at your attitudem
"I-It will be quick!"
"You didn't answer my-" and the door closed while he sighed loudly looking up at yhe ceilingx having to deal with the problem you had caused down there "Fucking brat." He growled out loud standing up with a hiss to go to the shower.
~
The drive back from the hospital was so awkward... the pregnant silence making you go crazy as Pops remained quietly the entire ride.
"I thought a lot about what you said once my dear." You yelped and looked at him in surprise.
"Eh?"
He smiled before looking at you with a serene expression.
"I was never once a good father example for both my actual daughter or Chisaki. Part of me didn't want to believe, but Kai needed more than just my help after I took him in... Guess he took on my stubborness."
"N-no, that was not what I meant-"
"Relax kid... I just recalled what you said back there when you left. There is nothing left for me asides from trying to at least solve things with Chisaki... I cant thank you enough, both of me and him weren't on the right side, so is not on place of me to judge him... specially when I tortured a childhood friend of my once."
... wait whAT-?!
The train stopped and you hesitantly took Pops hand when he offered it to help you stand up.
You two walked before you stopped by the front of your apartment complex as you looked at Pops uncertainly, but he only nodded with a smile.
"Is time for me to speak with him after who knows how long."
You shakily entered your apartment as coincidentally Kai emerged from the tiny hall, drying his hair with a towel, already dressed on his casual clothes as he opened one of his eyes to look at you.
"Better have a good explanation or else punishment is going to be extra harder." He smirked devilish and you would have gotten turn on if it weren't from right after he widened his amber eyes as if he had saw a ghost as Pops entered, crossing his arms as he looked back at Chisaki.
"Hello, Chisaki." He spoke seriously before smilling at how the man he created for years now seemes as a fragile boy who had been caught for doing sonething silly.
You aproached Chisaki slowly before taking his hand, making him look at you to remind him it wasn't one of his paranoia events... Pops was there. Smilling at him.
It was real.
The elder aproached, a small still present on as he looked at Chisaki.
"You seem way better than the last time I saw you. I'm glad to see that."
He couldn't speak, his throat was sore, it hurted too mcuh to even breath near this man again. He knew what had happened, so why on hell was this old geezer smilling at him iut of all people?! He could feel his eyes start to burn as he clenched on your hand before flinching violently when a hand that wasn't yours rested on his shoulder.
"I'm not mad at you. Is all in the past, I know your intentions weren't what happened... and I forgive you, Kai." He pulled Chisaki for a hug and the man himself tensed accidentaly letting go of your hand and lifting his metal arms in the air awkwardly. "But I hope one day you can still forgive me for not being a good father to you... my son."
That was the last straw for the man once called himself the name of his quirk, to break completely. He cried, silently, but the river of tears falling down his eyes was still there as he clenched the back of the man as he trembled... muttering how he hated himself and how much he was ashamed and sorry as Pops also apologized.
You smiled at the scene, trying to left the room but failing when your boyfriend and Pops called you back instantly... these two had still long to talk... but Kai still wanted you there. With him. As he always wanted.
After all, you and Pops were the only concept of family he ever had learned.
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sambergscott · 4 years
Text
i'd wait forever and a day for you
summary: post-trying // jake is on an undercover mission and amy thinks she’s pregnant. 
(you should read this just for the last line tbh)
Her period is late.
At first, she attributes it to stress. Jake is on a major undercover operation and while she is an incredibly proud, supportive wife, she knows how dangerous the situation is. He’s a great cop -- one of New York’s finest, in both senses of the word (...he’s hot) -- and he was so excited about getting this assignment. And she’s excited for him -- really, she is. But with updates filtering through to Captain Holt at a snail’s pace, it’s impossible not to worry about him, where he is, what he’s doing, whether he’s safe. Her cycle was shot to hell when he was in Witness Protection in Florida and it is entirely possible that history is repeating itself. 
Four days pass, Jake is still undercover and her period still has not arrived. She tries to blame Hitchcock’s God-awful Zika cologne disrupting her cycle again until she remembers that both Hitchcock and Scully have been off work all week with food poisoning. She even Googles why is my period late?, quickly closing the tab and deleting her browser history when the first result that pops up is pregnancy. 
There’s no way she’s pregnant. She refuses to even consider it for a second. 
Despite her absolute certainty that her uterus is as empty as it’s always been, when Rosa invites her for drinks with her new boyfriend, Amy opts for a non-alcoholic beer. 
“I’m driving,” she explains at Rosa’s raised eyebrows and swiftly changes the conversation. She finds out that Rosa’s boyfriend is a mechanic and they hit it off when she took her motorbike in for repair. She talks about Jake, about how he’s her favourite person in the entire world and how much she misses him (A Lot). He asks her what it’s like dating a cop and how to deal with the person you love putting themselves in danger every single day, which makes Rosa blush. Amy has never seen her blush before. 
“It’s difficult,” she says truthfully. She hates seeing her husband hurting and being thrown in prison for crimes he didn’t commit and having guns pointed at his head. It’s why she instated the short-lived ‘no dating cops’ rule, before Jake kissed her and she decided screw it. “But it’s worth it. When you really love them, it’s worth the pain. Every second.”
“That’s what I thought,” he responds, looking at Rosa the way Jake looks at Amy. 
She finishes her drink (which is so not as good as its alcoholic counterpart) and gathers her coat and purse. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. See you Monday,” she directs at Rosa and “it was nice to meet you” at her boyfriend, who she has a feeling might be sticking around for a while. 
She opens up her Messages app and types out a full paragraph to Jake about how she met Rosa’s boyfriend before him and how he’s really nice and makes her blush! Rosa Disz!!! Blushing!!! She adds a gif of Jonathan Van Ness saying “can you believe?” and is about to click send when she realises his phone is on his nightstand where he left it before his mission and puts her phone back in her pocket in dismay. 
Once home, she gets changed into one of his NYPD t-shirts and climbs straight into bed, crying herself to sleep. 
She wakes up bright and early the next morning, a feat that is made significantly easier when there is no super cute husband to snuggle with. She showers, pulls on leggings and one of his plaid shirts and gets started on her Sunday Chores. Dancing around the apartment and pretending the mop is a microphone stand is a lot less fun on her own and she overcompensates, making herself dizzy and throwing up in the toilet she just cleaned. 
Without thinking, she finds herself at the bodega on the corner, staring at the selection of pregnancy tests. She grabs three of the safest looking ones and bites her lip when the guy congratulates her as she pays. She’s wasted hundreds of dollars on pregnancy tests thus far and she knows she’s definitely wasting money on these ones too. She doesn’t need congratulating for making poor financial decisions and being bad at making babies, but she thanks him anyway. 
Back at the apartment, she dumps the paper bag on the kitchen counter to deal with later. She makes a cup of tea, calls her mom and fills in The Times crossword. The paper bag screams out to her the entire time. 
Reluctantly, she removes the boxes from the bag, fully intending to put them away in the back of the bathroom cabinet, out of sight. 
A niggling voice tells her to just open one and find out. 
She has the box open and the test in her hand when her phone buzzes with a text from Holt informing her that Jake is safe and the mission is going well. 
She drops the test like it burnt her skin. 
Jake. She can’t do this without him. If she is pregnant, she’d never forgive herself for finding out without him, for stripping him of that moment they’d been dreaming of forever. 
She’s waited this long, she can wait a few more days. And she’s probably not pregnant anyway. 
She ends up waiting two more weeks. 
It’s torture. 
She’s throwing up almost daily, crying in the break room for no apparent reason and her damn period has still not come. All symptoms which could be explained away by a lack of Jake Peralta and stress (due to missing the aforementioned Jake Peralta). 
Rosa corners her in the ladies bathroom and asks if she wants her to run out for more pregnancy tests.
“I already have some at home.”
“And?” She prompts. “Did you take them? Are you pregnant?”
“I don’t know.” She tries to play it off as no big deal, but Rosa knows her pretty well these days. 
“You’ve been trying for nearly a year, there’s a chance you are finally pregnant and you haven’t taken a test?”
“I can’t -- I want to -- Jake --.”
“Oh,” it dawns on her. 
“Yeah,” Amy sighs. “I’ve been staring at the tests every night but I just can’t. Not without him.  He’d be devastated.”
“He would not be devastated if you were pregnant, Amy Santiago.” 
“You know what I mean. He’d want to be have been there. I want him to be there.”
“I guess he needs to hurry the hell up and catch the bad guys then.”
He must have heard her because, hours later, the elevator door opens and there he is, exhausted and still in his weird undercover clothes, with the biggest smile on his face. 
She practically throws herself at him and, yeah, maybe she kisses him in a not-very-work-appropriate way and maybe some of the perps in the holding cell wolf whistle and maybe Charles is crying, but he is home and she can finally take those pregnancy tests. 
Holt allows her to clock out early (she makes a mental note to buy him a glass of Charbonnay the next time they go to Shaw’s) and Jake excitedly tells her all about the case, barely taking a second to breathe.
“Sounds fun, babe,” she says when he gets to the part of the story when he handcuffed the bad guys and then made out with this super hot chick in front of all his co-workers. 
“It was awesome,” he confirms. “What about you? What have you been up to? I missed you so much.”
“Aw,” she smiles, rubbing her hand over his thigh as he drives, “I missed you so much, too. As for what I’ve been up to, I’ve mostly just been kind of sick.”
���Really?”
“Mm-hmm. I... um... actually think I might be pregnant.”
He swerves suddenly, nearly crashing the car. Ignoring the cars around them honking, he focuses on his wife. “Pregnant?”
“My period is nearly three weeks late, I’ve been throwing up and I’ve been extra emotional,” she debriefs him. 
“Right. OK.” He takes a deep breath. “Have you taken a test?”
“I bought three but I couldn’t take them without you. It’s kind of been killing me.”
“Yeah, I bet,” he laughs, pulling over in front of their apartment. Neither of them move. “We should probably take them now.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. 
“You nervous?”
“Yeah,” she says again. She’s lost count of how many negative tests they’ve seen, how many times she’s felt that familiar crushing disappointment. The thought of going through it all over again... 
“I understand. We can wait, if you want. Or we could rip the band-aid off, let the scab bleed all over the place. I’ll hold your hand.”
There’s this reassuring look in his eyes that she’s seen a million times over from back when they were newly-assigned partners and he was reassuring her they would solve a tough case to that time on the roof of 397 Barton Street when he said he always knew she was going to be his boss to his speech at Hitchcock’s (second) divorce party when he told her that they are a family and that they can take whatever ‘next step’ she wants because as long as they’re together, he’s happy. 
Because it’s him, she nods. “Let’s do this.” 
The wait for the timer to go off seems longer than ever. She squeezes his hand so tight she thinks she might cut off the circulation, but he doesn’t complain, just keeps talking about how they’ll be fine, no matter what the result. 
The timer eventually goes off and she picks up the test and starts crying immediately. 
Jake hugs her tight and she can feel him crying too and this is so crazy and insane and good. 
“We’re having a baby,” he says in awe and it’s the best thing Amy’s ever heard. 
“We’re having a baby!” She repeats, half-laughing, half-crying. 
She yelps as he lifts her up and spins her around their tiny bathroom before kissing her tenderly. 
“I can’t believe this,” he exclaims when he pulls away, rubbing his hand over his face, “can you?”
“Nope.” She grins, kissing him again.
140 notes · View notes
velkynkarma · 4 years
Note
Happy April Fools Day! The fool is me for not thinking of a prompt when I had a chance. I'd like to see Ryou getting nabbed by a bounty hunter who mistakes him from Shiro. Dark results or humorous, your call :)
Of course :) It took me a while to decide which direction to go in, but I got there eventually.
——
A ringing noise fills Ryou’s ears, off key and inside his head more than something he’s actually hearing. His vision is blurry and unfocused when he finally manages to open his eyes, and they feel thick and heavy, like they’re full of sleep. The taste in his mouth is rancid, and his tongue is uncomfortably dry. 
Damn it, he thinks to himself, and his own thoughts swim awkwardly in his head. I’ve been drugged. Again. 
Again. Of course it was again. Nobody should be this used to recognizing the signs of being drugged into unconsciousness. The fact that he was so acquainted with the basic symptoms was all kinds of messed up. And yet, here he is.
In a way, it’s useful. He’s so used to identifying the issue at hand that he can already bypass the shock of being drugged into unconsciousness, and go straight to figuring out how, why, and when it happened, and even more importantly—where the hell he was now.
Where was I before this? 
It takes a bit for his struggling, drug-addled mind to shake off the remains of the chemical effects enough to access the memories, but they come eventually. The celebration festival on Takarsis. The Takarites had reached out to Voltron for protection. Ryou had set up the arrangements and been there when the Takarite queen had officially signed the Coalition agreement, aid for protection. There had been a feast afterward, and a whole party throughout the city, one team Voltron had been encouraged to attend. 
Ryou hadn’t been with anyone at the time he’d disappeared. He’d gone off on his own to check some of the farmer’s market produce, and see if there was anything he could add to his garden. He’d seen most of the festivities after a spicolian movement on Takarsis and was more interested in shopping. Not even Shiro had argued with him going off by himself—the Takarites weren’t really fighters, and nobody thought they could pose much of a threat.
Apparently they’d been dead wrong about that. Then again, grabbing somebody from behind while slapping a drugged rag over their mouth was hardly fair, or even a fight.
Okay. Not a great start to his situation, but it could be worse. The team might not notice he’s missing for a while, with the party in full swing. But they will come looking eventually, once it’s over and Ryou doesn’t come back to the Castle of Lions. They all would search, of course, but Shiro will focus obsessively on nothing else until then, and Keith will be right there next to him, both hellbent on finding Ryou and damn the need for sleep. They’ll probably both be wondering if Ryou somehow managed to wander off and forget how to come back, but Ryou can deal with that annoyance when the time comes.
That’s the ‘when’ and ‘how.’ ‘Why’ is going to be a little harder to figure out without doing some investigating. For now, ‘where’ is far more important. 
Ryou blinks his eyes a few times, trying to clear his vision. Gummy spots of sleep slide uncomfortably out of his line of sight, but at least it’s not as clouded as before. Not that it helps much. The room he’s in is dark, and most of the available light comes from a square hole with bars that’s cut into the door on the far side of the room. The room itself has nothing else of interest in it.
Lovely. A prison cell.
A few of Shiro’s memories take strong objection to this newfound discovery, bubbling up to do their best to remind Ryou about all the awful, terrible things that happened to him during his time in the Galra prisons. Ryou shoves them to the back of his mind as hard as he can. It doesn’t feel personal, like it happened to him, but he doesn’t need any reminders of what could happen to him in his current situation. He needs to focus. Shiro’s memories do not allow for much focus.
He takes stock of himself next. His head is clearing rapidly now, so whatever they’d used on him had been short-term at best. He can live with the headache. He’s sore all over, which is probably from being man-handled while unconscious, but he’s had far worse in his short lifetime. There’s strain in both his shoulders and his arms, though, thanks to the fact that his wrists are tied together above him over his head. 
“Deja vu,” Ryou mutters under his breath. His tongue still feels a little thick in his mouth, but he can talk at least. 
His arms present more of a problem. Why do people always restrain him like this? Don’t they know it hurts? 
At least he’s sitting, this time, wedged into the corner with his legs splayed out in front of him like a discarded doll. That means his full weight isn’t suspended from his wrists, which is a relief at least. When he tips his head back, he can just barely make out the chains tying his wrists together and bolting them to the wall. 
So he’s not going to bounce himself out of this one, like he had when Remdax and Vakala had caught him. He’ll just have to find another means of escape. 
He slowly and carefully pulls at the chains above his head, testing their strength and sturdiness while trying hard to not make any noise. His captors, whoever they are, don’t appear to have left a watch. He doesn’t want to alert them to the fact that he’s awake unless he has to; every tick he has to try and work out his escape without scrutiny is precious.
But when he moves his arms, his right forearm sends a bolt of excruciating, stabbing pain through him. He clenches his teeth shut, but not before a strangled, smothered scream escapes him, despite his best efforts.
What the hell was that? 
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, breathing through his nose and staying perfectly still. Once he stops moving, the pain tapers off, until he feels nothing again. 
Blinking his eyes open, he cautiously—very cautiously, so as not to move his arm again—tips his head back once more to find the cause of so much unexpected pain. 
There’s some sort of band on his arm. It’s dark colored and has a few blinking red lights on it, and is bolted securely around the white paladin armor on his forearm. It looks a bit like the cuff Vakala and Remdax had put on him to suppress his Galra arm, back when he’d first been allowed to ‘escape’ the Galra. 
Ryou frowns. Something like that shouldn’t work on his Olkari arm. Olkari engineering was unique, using a biomechanical plant-based system, and it required very specialized biomechanical technology to integrate with it. Regular electronics wouldn’t have any affect on his arm.
Then he spots the thin crack on the armor, bordering the foreign band. Very cautiously, Ryou twists his right arm, nudging the band just a fraction with his left. It sends another bolt of excruciating pain through him, but he knows it’s coming this time and braces, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw cracks but suppressing another scream. This time, now that he’s paying attention, he’s aware of something digging through the paladin armor into his biomechanical arm, tearing at the synthetic muscles as he moves.
No wonder it hurts so bad. There’s a spike puncturing his arm—or more than one, from the feel of it, studding the inside of the band. His Olkari arm doesn’t integrate with regular tech, but it does have synthetic nerves, and while that gives him a sensation of touch it does come with the tradeoff of pain as well. It’s still rudimentary, which means if he doesn’t move his arm and doesn’t aggravate the nerves, he doesn’t get the feedback of discomfort. Unfortunately, he’s going to have to move a lot if he plans on escaping.
Priority two is getting that thing off, Ryou determines. Right after priority one, getting out of these chains. 
On the plus side, his right arm is mechanical. The sensation of literal stabbing pain is unpleasant, but unlike a real human arm, there won’t be long term damage and he can’t bleed out. Ryner had made upgrades recently to make his arm better at self-repairing all but the worst injuries; that was probably one of the reasons the band was hurting him so bad. The arm was trying to fix itself around it. If he can just get it off, it should repair enough that he won’t hurt too badly after, and the wounds definitely can’t kill him.
Ryou takes a deep breath and prepares himself for some inevitable pain in his future as he maneuvers the chains. But before he can try tugging on them again, he hears a voice outside, and a shadow passes in front of his thin rectangle of light.
“I knew I heard something!” the voice snaps. “He’s awake. Knew we should’ve dosed him more.”
“Congratulations,” a second voice growls back, obviously irritated. “You want a quiznaking medal? Get off your ass and make sure he’s secure.”
“We all go,” a third voice says. “This is the Black Paladin Shiro, after all.”
Ryou whips his head around to watch the door. Whoever they are, they think he’s Shiro? That’s unexpected...although it does suddenly explain the band on his arm. If they thought they had Shiro, they probably thought they were suppressing Galra technology, not Olkarian. 
Things have just gotten a lot more interesting.
“Chorek, get another dose of that drug ready,” the third voice continues. “I want him out when we move him.” 
“Please. We could take him,” a fourth voice says.
“You wanna die, feel free. I’m not taking my chances against a gladiator champion. I got a revolution to plan.”
“Ugh, fine. Josil, you’re no fun.”
“No fun, and planning to live.”
Four voices. Four opponents. Four people who were interested in taking Shiro somewhere. And something about a revolution. Ryou doesn’t like the sound of that, and decides to hang tight, just for a little while longer. For intelligence gathering purposes. 
The door cracks open, and several aliens file into the room. One immediately turns a blaster on him, and Ryou’s been around long enough by now to recognize its make as something off the Unilu black market, not Galran. 
The alien holding the gun isn’t Galran either. He’s Takarite, same as all the others—blue-green skin, short stature, squarish features, thick hands, and with two sets of curled antennae in place of ears. Their eyes are multi-colored, more like constantly changing prisms, and more angular and multi-faceted than Ryou is used to. 
“Where am I?” Ryou asks immediately. “Who are you? And why am I restrained?” 
“Silence, Champion,” the largest of the Takarites snaps. He’s not the one holding the gun, but Ryou immediately recognizes his voice as the one that had been giving the orders. Josil, if he’s right. “You remain quiet, and we won’t have to get mean.”
A lie, obviously. Ryou had just overheard them talking about drugging him, so they plan on enforcing compliance rather than bartering it out of him with good behavior. He doesn’t argue the point.
He doesn’t correct them about ‘Champion,’ either, although that is a lot more puzzling to him. It’s not the first time he’s been mistaken for Shiro, but he hadn’t actually been trying this time. The team had been encouraged to wear their Voltron armor for the festival, and Ryou had been out in his green variation, and had never switched the colors to his imitation Shiro setting. He wasn’t wearing his helmet, so his graying hair didn’t match Shiro’s either. He’d even brokered the agreement between the Voltron Coalition and the planet as Ryou, not Shiro, so people knew there were two of them. 
Then again, the Takarites had struggled to tell the difference between most of the paladins of Voltron all day. It wasn’t polite to ask, but Ryou suspects Takarite biology and vision simply wasn’t designed to identify human facial features. As far as he can tell, they identify each other through different means—scent, vibration, and maybe some other sense humans and Alteans simply don’t have. They definitely didn’t see colors on the same wavelength that the paladins did, which meant they couldn’t tell the difference between the lions outside of general shape. 
They’d figured out their own ways to identify most of the paladins in the end at the formal ceremonies. But they had struggled with Shiro and Ryou, probably because the two of them were functionally identical in every aspect the Takarites considered significant. 
So maybe it’s not all that surprising to be kidnapped as ‘Shiro’ even if he wasn’t actually trying. At the end of the day, he can definitely play the part to perfection, and that’s all that matters.
“You have no right to kidnap me,” Ryou says, forcing a note of command into his tone. “We’re your allies. Voltron is here to help you.”
“Voltron is here to ruin us,” one of the other Takarites snaps back. “The queen was a fool for signing our freedom over to a giant robot overlord!”
“That’s not what happened at all,” Ryou says, frowning. “There was an agreement. The Voltron Coalition provides protection—”
“—in exchange for slavery,” Josil interrupts, oddly angular eyes glittering darkly with anger. “We won’t have it.”
“It’s not slavery,” Ryou says, incredulous. “The Coalition is a team effort. Planets that have agreed to provide military support for you and other non-combatant planets are willing to defend you. But that extension of their military aid means less manpower for creating necessary food and supplies to sustain them. Non-combatant planets like Takarsis agree to shoulder that burden in exchange for not needing to participate in combat. Everyone benefits.”
“It’s a load of quiznacking shit, is what it is,” the Takarite holding the gun snarls. “It’s slavery with a pretty name.”
“And where’s the great robot overlord in all this?” the fourth Takarite adds. “Not doing any of that stuff you said.” 
Ryou’s eyebrows raise. “Voltron fights at the heart of the Galra empire,” he says. “We literally take on the biggest and toughest opponents so you don’t have to.”
“That’s what you say,” the gun-toting Takarite growls. “But where’s the proof?” 
Ryou can’t believe it. He’s been captured by insurgents and conspiracy theorists. It’s almost embarrassing. 
But he schools his expression to remain as calm and neutral as possible, and says reasonably, “If you have grievances, I’m sure you can bring them up with officials. I can get you an audience with the queen; I have some pull in the palace, now. Kidnapping me isn’t the answer.”
“It’s exactly the answer,” Josil says, taking a step forward—but still, notably, remaining carefully out of range. “Kidnapping Champion means Voltron’s got no head. We handicapped the Coalition in one stroke. And once we turn you in, we’ll have the funding and the support to free ourselves from your tyranny.” 
Ryou’s blood runs cold. “Turn me in?”
One of the unnamed Takarites smiles. It’s a surprisingly toothy, unfriendly look. “Didja know you got a bounty on your head, Champion? You’re worth a lot to the Galra. Lotta money to fund the revolution.”
“And the military power to fight back the Coalition,” the fourth Takarite adds. “They’ll owe us a favor, for handing over their missing Champion. They’ll have to help us liberate the planet.”
Ryou’s heart thuds heavy in his chest. Shiro’s memories bubble to the surface again, frantic and panicked at the thought of going back to them, to her, but Ryou shoves them back. 
This time, it’s harder, mostly because it tangles with his own very real memories and feelings. He doesn’t want to go back to them, either. He knows what Haggar will do if she gets her hands on him again. He knows he won’t ever come back from that, mentally or physically. She’ll strip his mind bare, drain it of every confidential detail she can use against the Coalition, and leave him with a broken self and an empty husk. Every part of himself that he forged anew, she’ll break and toss away. If she’s feeling generous, she’ll kill him quickly. More likely, she’ll let him die of his own failsafe, as punishment for not being a good little sleeper agent.
But it’s not that bad yet, Ryou tries to calm himself. You still have options. The team will look for you once the party is over. If you’re forced, you can still call out to the Black Lion, and get a message to Shiro that way. Things aren’t hopeless yet. 
And fortunately, he has one other thing working in his favor to suppress his panic: anger. And the more ticks pass, the more of it he has. 
“You’d sell out your entire planet to the Galra?” Ryou asks, his voice cold. “Do you know what they do to planets like yours?” 
“Free them from overlord scum like you?” the gun-toting Takarite counters, scathing.
“They are the overlords,” Ryou says. He tries to keep his voice calm and unaccusing, still, but he can’t quite keep the fury contained. “They strip-mine entire planets for resources. Literally enslave the populations, putting them in camps and forcing them to participate in destroying their own homes. When they’ve taken everything they can, they drain the planet and everything living on it of quintessence. All that’s left is a broken shell of a planet. If you do this, you are consigning your entire race to death, and destroying your home.”
“Better than false slavery and servitude for the rest of Takarsis’ existance,” Josil says. “I’d rather have died fighting for something I believed in than get taken in by liars and thieves that destroy our sense of self. Takarsis forever!” 
There’s no reasoning with these people. It’s disgusting. Ryou abandons any pretense of diplomacy getting him out of this mess. He needs to get out, and report this as soon as he can to the Takarite queen. Even when he does escape, and these guys don’t have the leverage of ‘Champion’ to work with anymore, that won’t stop them endangering the whole planet.
It seems like that’ll all be on him, though. Short of calling for help through the Black Lion—and hoping Shiro’s in the pilot’s seat at the time—it doesn’t seem like anyone can hear him. Even without wearing his helmet, he should have an open channel to the rest of the team in his armor. The fact that there’s been no response yet means these idiots are blocking signals somehow. It would also explain why nobody is tracking his location; that signal is probably blocked as well. 
Assuming anybody even thought to look to begin with. If the party is still going on, nobody is going to believe anything is wrong yet. 
Ryou’s still running through his potential options when one of the Takarites checks a device in his hand, stuffs it back in his pocket, and says, “It’s time. The fireworks display’s going off in twenty doboshes. If we get to the ship in time we can take off in all the noise and nobody will hear.”
“Good,” Josil says, nodding. “Chorek—drug him. I don’t want him causing a ruckus while we move him.”
“You got it,” the Takarite on the far right says. He’s got a bottle and a cloth in his hands, and as Ryou watches he liberally douses the cloth in the liquid. A faint chemical smell taints the air, and something dark and cruel in the back of Ryou’s head tickles at his brain, looming dangerously. He shoves it back with everything he has. He’s not sure if that one’s Shiro’s or his, but he can’t let it control him. Not now, not when it’s so important to be aware.  
The effort leaves him shaking slightly. The Takarites must mistake it for fear, because the one with the cloth chuckles knowingly. “Sisret’s gonna keep that gun on you while I come close,” he warns. “You’re gonna play nice, or we’ll put a few extra holes in you. Might make your first arena match a little tough, if you know what I mean.”
For a moment, Ryou’s mind goes completely blank, like the words don’t process right. His numb mind slowly gains feeling again as Chorek’s words sink in and gain meaning, and then he says slowly, “You’re sending...me back to the arenas?”
He’d almost said him. They’d shocked him so badly he’d forgotten for a moment what he was doing here. He’s never almost broken character that badly before. 
“Sure,” Sisret drawls, as he steadies the gun on Ryou. “I hear the arenas never had another fighter quite like Champion. They’re eager to have you back, and they’ll pay a lot of gak for it.”
Ryou stares at him. In his mind, the floodgates are broken, and all the arena memories of Shiro’s he’d ever managed to rediscover come pouring in. They all feel distant, like a film he’s experiencing of the terrible things Shiro went through, but there’s so much of it. Difficult battles. Awful wounds. Emotional struggles. Hunger. Sleeplessness. Pain. 
This time, Ryou lets them. This time, they aren’t a distraction—they’re fuel for the fire.
“Do you know what that place does to its prisoners? Do you understand what it’s like?” he asks. Slow. Careful. Dangerously soft. He keeps his eyes trained on Sisret and the gun, ignoring Chorek and his cloth dripping with drugs even as he comes closer. Sisret actually shifts uncomfortably under the intensity of the stare, although he’s smart enough not to drop his gun.
The fourth, unnamed Takarite actually laughs at the question. “Yeah. A quiznacking good time!” he chortles. “I won ten thousand gak betting on you, once. Think you could give me the insider information on the next fight? I bet I could double the bounty we get off you!”
Ryou sees red. 
Forget escaping. Forget calling for help. These sick bastards would put Shiro back into that hell without a second’s hesitation, and had the gall to think about profiting off of it. Every single one of them is going to die. No one is ever going to know what killed them. 
They think Champion is dangerous? They caught something even worse—an ambush predator built for silent kills that no one ever suspects are coming.
It takes barely any concentration at all for him to activate his Olkari arm. He doesn’t doubt for a second that it will work, and his faith in Ryner’s engineering pays off. His hand glows pale green as the energy coalesces in his palm, still yanked above his head by his chains.
Sisret’s eyes gleam brighter, and his mouth opens in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, before he gathers himself. “He’s—”
Too late. Ryou drops his fingers to point at Sisret, and fires.
His aim isn’t great, considering his arms are wrenched over his head and tied together. But the nice thing about having a hand that’s also an energy gun is that his aim doesn’t have to be great at this range. The blast hits the wall next to Sisret’s head, sending stone shattering everywhere, but it’s more than enough of a distraction to force the gun-wielding Takarite to throw himself to the ground for cover.
Before any of them can react, Ryou twists his wrist backwards, and fires at the wall and the bolt holding the chains to it.
At this close range, the blast hurts him, too. The concussive force as the wall shatters is enough to send another lancing stab of pain through his arm as the useless restriction band is jarred. He holds his scream back through sheer force of will, reinforced by a lot of fury. Chunks of stone shower around him, coating him in dust and bouncing off his armor, as the wall cracks.
Ryou barely notices any of it. He’s already moving, ignoring another protesting stab of pain in his arm, as he yanks his arms down. The chains are still secured to his wrists, but they’re free of the wall. He moves from the sprawled sit they’d put him in to an aggressive crouch in ticks, swinging around with the chains until they wrap around the approaching Chorek’s throat.
The Takarite makes a throaty squeaking noise as the chains pull taut. He drops the bottle of chemicals, and tries to flail out with the cloth, but it’s easy enough to dodge. The scent of trailing chemicals sails past Ryou’s shoulder harmlessly and splats on the stone floor. 
With a cold, efficient twist, he wrenches with the chains. A sharp, meaty snap-crack fills the air, and Chorek sags bonelessly, eyes suddenly devoid of any color.
“Quiznak!” one of the Takarites shrieks. Ryou dislodges the chains from Chorek’s neck in time to spin and catch Sisret shakily coming to his feet, raising his black market issue blaster. 
“Don’t kill him!” Josil barks. “He’s not worth anything dead!” There’s enough authority in his voice that Sisret listens, but that voice shakes with sudden fear, too. He knows he’s screwed up.
Good.
Sisret’s hands jerk as he tries to adjust his aim last minute, trying to find a non-lethal shot. Ryou has no such compunctions. He raises his still-chained right fist, letting the agonizing pull of the restricting band fuel him, and charges his fist again. 
At this range, it’s impossible to miss. The pale green blast cuts a burning, bloody hole through Sisret’s torso. The Takarite collapses, gun clattering across the floor, and stares at the damage in bewilderment before the color fades from his eyes.
In the shocked silence that follows, Ryou takes the time to blast the chains off both of his wrists. The cuffs are still there, but the chains aren’t liable to trip him up anymore. He can work on getting them removed once the threat is contained. 
“Are you having a good quiznacking time yet?” Ryou asks, as he glares coldly at the unnamed Takarite. 
He whimpers, both sets of antenna drooping, and huddles farther back into the corner. 
“No?” Ryou asks. His voice is low and calm, but unquestionably dangerous. “You mean it’s only fun to watch the slaughter when you’re not a part of it? Too bad.” His eyes narrow. “You’re a part of it now.” 
“You—you can’t do that!” Josil yelps, voice high in his panic. His multi-colored eyes flick to the gun Sisret had dropped and then back to Ryou, but the gun is on Ryou’s side of the prison cell, and clearly neither of them like the idea of getting too close anymore. Not when he’s unbound and pissed. Cowards. “The inhibitor band—”
“Oh—you mean this?” Ryou taps the band on his forearm, and then casually reaches around until he finds the latch. With his hands free, it’s easy enough to unclip and remove. It’s agony to do so, like pulling knives out of his arm, but he channels that pain into his expression as he glares across at the surviving extremists. Once the spikes are out, the pain immediately lessens, as they stop aggravating his synthetic muscles and nerves. 
He gives it an idle glance. Little wires and blinking bits adorn the four two-inch-long spikes on the interior of the band. They were probably intended to burrow into the Galra arm and lock up all weapons functions, movement, and anything else that might prove problematic for a kidnapping. All in all, a real nasty piece of work. He drops it on the ground, and crushes it under his boot heel. “Yeah, that doesn’t work on me.”
Josil’s the first one to move. He bolts for the door and slams it behind him, leaving his companion behind. There’s an audible sound of a lock clicking, and footsteps as he runs for freedom.
The unnamed Takarite slams against the door, cut off mid escape, and pounds on it frantically. “Josil!” He wails. “Josil, you can’t leave me in here with him!” He pauses mid-pound, and whirls to face Ryou, eyes glittering brighter in his panic.
“Remember when I asked you if you understood what the gladiator arenas were like?” Ryou asks, calmly. The Takarite whines in answer, and claws at the door. 
“It’s like this,” Ryou answers, when his kidnapper doesn’t. “They lock you in a room with someone else, and only the one who lives gets to leave. It’s not fun, is it? Terrified and facing down somebody who’s a lot stronger than you, with no way out? And you would have sent Shiro back to this just to make an extra buck.”
The Takarite swallows, and then says confusedly, “But...but you’re Shiro—”
“No,” Ryou says, as he charges his Olkari arm. “I’m really not.”
The Takarite blinks, but then his eyes widen in sudden understanding. “The brother—”
Ryou’s shot takes him in the eye, and that’s as far as he gets.
He doesn’t spare time for mercy, or for regrets. This nameless bastard didn’t deserve any. He would have consigned Shiro back to the arenas and his entire planet to a long, torturous death, out of his own ridiculous sense of pride and false patriotism. He deserved it.
And there’s still one more.
Busting the door open isn’t hard. Two full blasts from his Olkari arm and he’s free, and pounding down the hallway at top speed. He can see Josil in the distance at the end of the hall, and there’s no way he’s letting the bastard escape. 
Fortunately, he’s got range on his side.
At this long distance, accuracy is difficult, and it’s even more difficult moving. Ryou raises his fist and takes the shot anyway. He misses, in that he doesn’t hit Josil, but he does startle the Takarite into skidding to a halt when the blast hits the wall ahead of him. He whirls, spots Ryou, and shrieks. “How did you—”
Ryou’s second shot hits him in the stomach. The Takarite lets out a shriek of pain as he clutches at his wounded abdomen, and collapses to the ground.
Ryou jogs up to him easily, now that Josil is nothing more threatening than a squirming bit of jackass on a floor rapidly becoming drenched in dark green blood. Josil moans pathetically as he clutches at his stomach, and his eyes glitter in fear when he catches Ryou approaching.
But he forces a weak, rictus smile as Ryou approaches, and chokes through blood-stained teeth, “This isn’t the end.” 
“Oh?” Ryou asks.
“There’s more of us,” he wheezes. “We’re not the only cell. We will liberate Takarsis.”
“You’ll kill everyone, you mean,” Ryou says. “I think the queen will be interested in hearing that.”
“I’ll never talk.”
“Oh, I never meant you,” Ryou says. His voice is colder than ice as he glares down at the last of his kidnappers. Josil must feel it, because he shivers. “You planned to send Shiro back to the arenas. He’s suffered enough, and you deserve to pay for even trying.”
Like his nameless companion, Josil frowns in confusion, laced with pain. “Shiro? But you’re—” And just like that, his eyes gleam brighter as he, too, realizes just how badly he’d screwed up. “The brother. The diplomat.”
Ryou doesn’t say anything at all; merely raises his hand to start charging it again.
Josil eyes the growing pale green brightness of Ryou’s right arm nervously, but he chokes through his bloodied throat, “You negotiated the agreement that sold our souls to Voltron. You deserve to die too, you quiznacking bastard.”
“But as you’ve seen, I’m a lot harder to kill than I look,” Ryou says. “Trust me. Smarter people than you have tried.” 
“Takarsis for—”
Ryou shoots him. The strangled cry falls abruptly silent. Ryou shakes his head. “Liberate Takarsis? You would have killed them all out of greed. Good riddance.”
And he turns, and leaves the body behind.
———-
A little exploring reveals that Ryou had been taken to a warehouse on the far end of the city. It’s barely been a varga and a half since he’d been taken, and the party is still in full swing. It might have been vargas more before anyone had even noticed he’d disappeared.
That’s good, since it gives Ryou plenty of time to act. A quick exploratory search of the warehouse reveals stockpiled weapons and chemicals; this had been a regular nest for a set of insurgents. It’s something the local authorities will definitely need to know about if they intend to protect their people from Galra invasion. Josil had said there were more people belonging to this group. 
So he’s quick about removing any evidence of having been there, including the inhibitor band that was supposed to be used to restrain Shiro. The last thing he needs is that kind of technology getting out. He finds the keys to his cuffs, too, and pulls them off before melting them into slag with his Olkari hand.
Once he’s removed himself from the evidence, he calls in an anonymous tip to the Takarite police, notifying them about both the den and the ship that’s supposed to be turning him in to the Galra. They can handle things from there. 
Ryou himself is a little more of a challenge. He’s covered in dust from the wall, and while his ranged attacks meant he hadn’t gotten too bloody, there is some pretty visible damage to his arm. His Olkari arm is repairing itself reasonably well, now—it hurts less every time he moves it—but there’s nothing he can do about the punctures in the forearm of his armor. 
He has no interest in causing a panic with the team, though. They deserve to be able to enjoy their party without having to concern themselves with him. More importantly, Shiro deserves to not be bothered with the full details of what had happened. Why be assaulted by those memories, or by the threat of going back to the arenas, when he’s not in danger of that anymore?
Because he won’t be. Shiro is still at the party, but Ryou had only been taken because he’d gone off on his own. He doubts Shiro would be able to get away with that, not as the Black Paladin and leader of the Voltron Paladins. He’s safely in the middle of thousands, and not even Josil’s ridiculous extremist group would be able to pluck him out of the middle of that crowd to take him back to the Galra.
Besides, Ryou doesn’t want to deal with his overprotective fussing. He’s dealt with it enough as it is, without admitting to being kidnapped in Shiro’s place. The last thing he needs is Shiro refusing to let Ryou out of his sight. Or Shiro feeling guilty about Ryou being taken in his place. Ryou doesn’t regret that at all—if Shiro really had been taken, Josil’s little coup might have been successful. They’d obviously planned for him. This was one of the reasons Ryou had decided to be Shiro’s double to begin with.
No, Shiro’s got enough on his plate. He’s not going to be bothered with this. 
So Ryou cleans himself off as best as he can, breaking into a closed restaurant for their public bathroom, and washing away the dust and blood. He doesn’t have any visible wounds on his person—thank goodness he’d only been knocked out with drugs, and not a blow to the head, which would have left a nasty lump. The puncture wounds on his armor aren’t too obvious, as long as he angles himself right, and underneath the armor his Olkari ‘skin’ already looks smooth and undamaged. 
It will do, as long as nobody inspects him closely. He doesn’t intend to let anyone.
Getting back to the party is easy, and now that he’s outside the extremist next, his comms are no longer blocked. “Back from the farmer’s market,” he announces. “But I’m beat. I think I’ll turn in a little early, if nobody minds?”
“It should be quite alright,” Allura says. Ryou can see her up on the raised platform in the middle of the wide clearing being used for the majority of the feast, sitting next to the Takarite queen. “I can handle any additional negotiation that is needed, although I hardly think there is any. You did an excellent job.”
“Thank you,” Ryou says, smiling despite himself. 
“Did you get the plants you wanted?” Shiro asks. Ryou picks him out easily too, close to the raised platform to be backup for Allura on the off chance that something goes wrong, not that anybody expects it to. He’s safely surrounded by dozens of Takarites and within full view of Allura, Keith, and Pidge, which means he definitely won’t be disappearing without a fuss. 
“No, unfortunately. They didn’t have anything I was interested in,” Ryou says. “I was mostly just curious, anyway. We don’t really need anything.”
He’d never even made it to the farmer’s market, and he had been genuinely curious in one of the fruits they sold here. Oh, well. The safety of Shiro and the planet was far more important than that. He can swallow his disappointment and live with the lie if he has to.
“Too bad,” Hunk says. “I was looking forward to cooking with something new.”
Ryou hums noncommittally, before saying, “Alright, then. I’ll just be back in the Castle. Call me if you need me.”
“Rest well,” Allura says over the comms. And just like that, Ryou’s avoided any and all suspicion. 
Ryou doesn’t rest when he’s inside. He changes out of his armor to civilian gear after taking a quick shower, just in case. He sets the armor in one of the machines used for repairs, and for creating new equipment. He snags a holopad and brings up the coordinates of each member of the team, even Matt’s rebel tracker, like he would when coordinating a mission from the sky. And he watches the party for the rest of the entire night, keeping track of every single blip on the screen, to make sure nobody disappears.
It’s not until they’re all safely back in the Castle that Ryou finally lets himself relax. Everyone’s safe, nobody is in danger, and there’s no cause for panic. Things are finally okay.
He breathes a sigh of relief.
———
The following morning at breakfast, Allura announces some shocking news.
“The Takarites have warned us to be cautious,” she says. “Apparently, last night their police force received an anonymous warning regarding a terrorist organization. It’s a group the queen tells me they’ve struggled with for years, but apparently the recent agreement to join the Coalition has them...particularly riled up.”
Shiro frowns, immediately attentive. “Do they need our help?”
“The opposite, actually,” Allura says. “They reported that this group is particularly aggravated by Voltron, and suggested the paladins may be targets. They asked if we would be terribly offended if we cancelled some of the additional festivities while they deal with the situation, but do not want to put us in unnecessary danger.”
“Takarite festivities can go on for as long as a spicolian movement,” Ryou points out, ever the diplomat. “If they want to cancel them, this must be serious.”
“Agreed,” Allura says. “They beg us to please be careful while remaining on Takarsis while taking on supplies and planning our next course of action. But they assure us they have things well taken care of. It seems one of the cells of this organization has already been dealt with by some sort of...vigilante. They gleaned plenty of information for finding other cells from the anonymous tip.”
Shiro frowns. “Sounds like they have things in order, but we’re still willing to help if they need it. In the meantime—” he turns to look around at each of the other paladins, “—nobody goes off-ship alone, and I want everyone to be cautious.” 
“As if they could take any of us down,” Lance says confidently. But he wilts under Shiro’s stern look, and backpedals meekly. “Right, right. Staying put. It sucks, though. We were gonna get that parade today...”
“We don’t know what they’re capable of. It’s best to listen to the locals. If they want our help, they’ll get it—otherwise, we take their advice,” Shiro says. “Is that clear?”
The irony is, they would have been capable of taking Shiro. If it really had been Shiro they’d captured, and not Ryou, they would have won last night. 
Ryou hates the thought of it. Shiro could have been in a Galra prison cell again right now, agonizing over the next opponent he’d be forced to face. 
But that hadn’t happened, and it never would. And Ryou can’t let on that he knows anything about it at all, or risk showing his real thoughts on the matter.
So instead, he just says, “It won’t be so bad, Lance. We can work on that next level in Killbot Phantasm III if you want.”
Lance brightens immediately. “Oh, yeah! That’d be cool. I can’t read it without you.” Shiro shoots Ryou a grateful look, and Ryou nods back, understanding.
This is the way it should be. Everyone safe. No one the wiser, no one guilty, no one worrying over nothing. This is what he’s good at, and this is what he’ll do with those skills, to protect the universe, his friends, and Shiro however he can.
Whatever it takes.
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ma-gic-gay · 3 years
Note
TW: kidnapping (mentions), murder (mentioned, not gone into detail of), torture (again, just mentioned, not gone into detail of), sexual assault, hospital
He kissed her. With his crusty ass, never before heard of Chapstick, lips, he kissed her.
Oh, if only murder was legal.
"I'm so sorry he did that to you, Carly," he says, hugging her closer to him. "If I could, I'd kill him right now. I promise you. And I promise you, he will never be able to get near you or hurt you again. As long as I'm alive."
His blood boils as she continues, "I'm not sure if I can stand. He kicked me with steel toed boots."
How the fuck does someone feel like doing that? How does one get inspired to rape someone, to do something like this, traumatize them so severely?
"Do you want me to carry you out and into my car?" Jason offers and she nods, so that's what they do. The pair earn a few glances but everyone can sense he's not in the mood for questions, whatsoever, so no one asks any and they get into his car.
"Chase, he's going to ask me to recount what happened, right? Leave no detail out?"
"You won't have to answer any question that makes you uncomfortable or that you don't want to. Just tell me you don't want to answer it and he'll move on. I'll make him."
"You're not looking me in the eye," she notes. "Why not?"
"I don't know," he answers truthfully.
"Look me in the eye, Jason, and tell me everything's going to be okay," Carly requests and he does. He finally looks her in the eyes and it fills him with sadness and love and anger. Sadness because she's crying and because he can see the marks where she was slapped, where she was injured, where the duct tape was. Love because, well, that's just how they always are. Anger because of what Cyrus did to her. How Cyrus hurt her and only got mad he was caught. How much worse it could've been for her.
"Everything's going to be okay," he says, for both of their sakes before putting the seatbelt over himself and driving to the hospital. Yet again, he says screw you to traffic signs and speeds; she's clearly in bad shape.
Oh, Cyrus is going to die. Whether it be by his gun (preferable), or by someone else's, that bastard is going to die for doing this to her.
They get into GH, him carrying her still, and encounter Elizabeth. Hopefully Carly's not in the mood for a fight. "Jason? Carly? What's wrong?"
"Oh, I'm fine and dandy, Elizabeth. Just wanted to see your smiling face," Carly says sarcastically. Looks like she's still in the mood for a fight, even traumatized. "Can we get an ER bed for me and a doctor?"
"Yeah, sure," the younger agrees, leading them to a bed. "What kind of doctor do you need?"
"Just get me Dr. Finn. And Britt, god help me," the blonde instructs and Elizabeth's eyes widen. She knows. "What are you staring at, Lizzie?"
Scoffing, Elizabeth leaves before fighting her. Thank god. This would be a really fucking inconvenient time for it. She'd definitely lash out and say something stupid. "I know, I know, I shouldn't have picked a fight. Just couldn't resist."
"Well, the fight didn't happen, so you're good on that front," Jason half chuckles, putting her down on the bed carefully.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing, just worried about you."
"Every time I close my eyes, it's like I'm back in that room and Cyrus is making out with me all over again and I felt so disgusted but he looked like he was having fun. Like I was a prize he had won, or like he was getting joy out of kidnapping me, like raping me would be the most fun he'd had in years," Carly says, sobbing almost silently through her words.. "And I can feel his lips against mine and it makes me sick because I don't want him within 100 feet of me, forget about kissing me."
"If I could, I would take this away from you. The pain and the everything you're going through. You don't deserve this," he informs her, brushing away her tears with his fingertips.
Anger and heartache are all he feels right now, seeing the normally so strong and passionate woman beside him breaking down and in pain. It's a painful thing for him to watch, even more painful for him to know Cyrus is going to probably live. Sadly. Sick bastard will probably not even be put in solitary.
He can't push down his emotions today, not with this. It's not great, but at the same time, it's not the worst.
"His lips were so crusty," she describes. "Like he'd never heard of Chapstick in his life. He clearly liked me, I could tell that, but he started stripping me while he was kissing me and I kept saying no, I tried to pull him off of me, but I wasn't able to. After he called you, it only got worse. It was like he was obsessed with me or something and so he kept going on and on about how I was his or whatever, how you would die if you tried to save me. That part scared me more than what he was doing, that he thought he was going to kill you."
"He wasn't able to. He won't be able to kill me, or live a life out of a solitary confinement maximum security prison ever. I promise you," Jason swears and she smiles.
"It felt like I was going to die there. Like the world was ending and I'd never get to see anyone I cared about again. I'd never get to get into another fight, or hug you again, or do something stupid and impulsive that you'd have to fix," Carly sobs quietly, "and I hated that thought. I know you don't like it when I do stupid things," he nods his agreement, smiling slightly, "but we all know that I'll do it again. And I, I kept thinking about you and the kids. Donna shouldn't grow up without a mother and I can't leave the rest of them without one. I thought about how you said you couldn't live with yourself if he killed me and how I wouldn't want you to suffer."
"We don't need to think like that, Carly. We're alive."
"Yeah, I know, but I don't think I'm able to close my eyes or stop talking because I feel like he's kissing me again and I'm in that room again. Not to mention, it killed the good memories we have in that room," she says and he pulls her in for yet another hug.
She, however, has a different idea and kisses him. Confused, he kisses back. No clue what inspired that, but now they're kissing. Again.
"Mr. Morgan, Mrs. Corinthos, would now be a good time for questioning?" Chase asks, awkwardly shifting his weight.
"Yeah, as good a time as any," Carly agrees as they abruptly end the kiss.
They've got to talk about that later.
"Alright, great. So, Mrs. Corinthos, where were you when you were kidnapped?"
"The Metro Court. I had been called in because we were sort a staff member and so I filled in. I was on my way out when I was kidnapped."
"And how exactly were you taken?"
"Against my will," she cracks, "by some dude who grabbed me and gagged me before putting me in the back of his truck."
That dude is dying too, the second Jason sees him.
"When you got there, did you know that Cyrus had taken you?"
"I figured."
"Did Cyrus assault you?"
"Yes. He, um, he slapped me across the face repeatedly because I rejected his advances and kicked me with boots," Carly says, beginning to sob again. "And if you're asking for sexually, yes. He kissed me, made out with me, and tried to have sex with me, after I said no, after I'd told him to get off of me. He jacked off in front of me with his hands and managed to get one of his fingers in me too. Cyrus stripped me down to my underwear and was probably going to take that off when Jason showed up."
Bastard, he thinks while even Jason is tearing up. It takes a lot to make him cry, much less she'd a tear, so everyone in the room can sense just how serious it is.
"Mrs. Corinthos, can you please describe what you went through to me, in detail?"
"Didn't I just do that?" Carly scoffs before whispering, "I can't answer this, I can't relive this. Not right now, at least. I just can't."
"It's best if we-"
"She said she can't relive it right now. Can you blame her?" Jason asks, glaring at Chase. "Move onto your next question, detective."
"That's really it. You two enjoy your evening. I'll be in touch soon."
Chase leaves and Carly breaks down again, sobbing loudly and worrying him even more than he's already worried for her. Which is really saying something, considering that he's about as worried as one can get.
Finn enters, with Britt not far behind him. "Sorry we took so long, I see my idiot brother pushed you too far. I'm sorry for him," Finn greets, earning a smile out of them all.
"Thanks," Carly accepts before changing the topic to medical things. "My legs are killing me, and I'm in physical pain practically everywhere. Cyrus slapped me, kicked me, punched me everywhere he could find skin. He, uh, he also jerked himself off in front of me and then managed to get a finger inside of me, so I need to make absolutely sure I'm not pregnant."
Everyone does a double take at that, Jason's hands balling into fists. Oh, the things he's going to put Cyrus through if he ever sees the light of day again. The tortures and violent attacks and emotional turmoil.
He's not a bad person, but he is fantasizing about killing one.
At the same time, right now, Carly needs him. More than anything, that's what she needs right now. And if she needs him, he's there for her.
"Alright. Well, do you mind if we take you up for some x-ray's? It'll only be for a few minutes and if you like, we can sedate you," Finn offers. "So you can sleep without dreaming of what just happened to you."
"If you want to be sedated, I can run all my tests while you are," Britt offers. "They're non-invasive, but it's always an option."
"Jason, what do you think?"
"If I were you, I'd go with the sedation," he offers up his advice.
"I'll take the sedative then, please."
They agree and have her sign some medical consent form before administering the sedative and taking her up for her exams.
Which leaves Jason alone with all the time until the sedative wears off, which he's been informed is two hours, to think and plan and think some more.
He should probably call her kids, let them know what's going on, but he's not sure if that's what she'd want right now.
So he doesn't, and he simply sits and thinks.
To be continued later in life when I'm not sleep deprived (well lol we can hope so it'll be continued tomorrow)
._.
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