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strawberrylemonz · 3 years

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Innit an Adventure

An addition to the AU, lol. Instead of chat being in his head, like Techno’s, Tommy’s chat are ghosts that follow him around :)

This one is dedicated to @ivorylin for being very supportive of my first post regarding this au. This is also dedicated to @petrichormeraki for being poggers and enjoying the first part of this series, as well as inspiring it.

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

--------

“Brother!!! Pog!!!”

“Big brother returns!”

“HE CALLED HIM STARCHILD, I’M GONNA SOB”

“I just woke up, what’s happening?”

“GOODBYE SBI, HELLO HERMIT GRIAN”

”HERMIT HOMIES HOURS”

“HOLY SHIT, HE’S OUR BROTHER”

“I was getting a snack, what’s up?”

“DJLFKNGON I’M GOANNA CRYSLK”

“BEST BROTHER EVER”

“I’m on the toilet, pog”

“I have tacos :)”

“BRGB SOBBING”

“GRIAN POGGGG”

“This makes me happy you didn’t do a double flip”

“ADIOS TECHNOBRO AND WILBRO, I ONLY KNOW BIG BRO G!!!”

“Anyone else have dust in their eyes?”

“CHAOS DUO RELATED POG”

Tommy let out a shaky breath as he rubbed his eyes. Chat was going crazy at the new news and, to be honest, he couldn’t blame them. If he was in their position, he’d be freaking out alongside them. Wanting to end both the silence that filled the cavern and the nonsense Chat was saying, Tommy let out a hoarse laugh before speaking.

“Chat really likes you, G.”

A smile formed on the teen’s face as his head bounced with the hefty laugh that came from Grian, whose chest began to rumble alongside the laughter. Finally lifting his head off his brother’s chest, Tommy allowed the remaining tears in his eyes to fall as he looked to Grian’s face. Grian smiled fondly back at Tommy, wiping away the tears from his little brother’s eyes.

“I suppose I should say hello to all of them. Is Chat similar to Techno’s voices?”

Concern flashed across Grian’s face as Tommy flinched at the mention of Technoblade. It was small, and could have been easily overlooked if Grian wasn’t watching his brother like a hawk. He made a mental note to ask about that later that night, when they were around the campfire.

“Nah, he’s just insane. Psychotic or some shit like that. I’m just really fucking cool and can see spirits and shit.”

Eyebrows from the crowd (shit, they were still there, weren’t they?) and Grian were raised as someone Stress half heartedly scolded Tommy for his language. Tommy just rolled his eyes, knowing that they only scolded him as a joke. They had all grown accustomed to his wording, and were worried when he didn’t slip in a few curses into his sentences.

“Spirits?”

“Yeah, spirits. I call em Chat most of the time, but they have different nicknames, and they all have individual names. Clara explained that it was one of the many side effects to her marking me as a ‘Starchild’ in her name. They are the spirits of the lands, from servers all around, or some shit like that. I can see them all, but they make the choice to stick with me or not.”

This was...news. Grian, who was still processing that he his baby brother was alive, sitting right in front of him, as well as the fact that Clara was real, could only stare. He wasn’t so sure how to feel about his brother being indifferent to all the spirits, but he suppose that it couldn’t be helped. Spending pretty much your entire life seeing spirits would make him indifferent to the spirits as well.

“So, Chat is...everywhere?”

“Basically, yeah”

Grian hummed as he proceeded to greet Chat, being polite to the beings he couldn’t see. Much to the annoyance of Tommy, Chat seemed to be loving Grian even more. Maybe a bit too much.

“HE’S SO POLITE”

“How thoughtful of him”

“HELOO HI GRI A N HWAHT’S UP BRO”

“Grian bro supremacy”

“GRIAN BRO SUPREMACY”

“HERMIT HOMIE WOOOOOO”

“BEST BRO POG”

“holY SHIT I’M IN LOV E ADKNVOD”

“THE RACCOON HAS A POG BROTHER WOOO”

“HI GRIAN HI”

“Rodent brothers??? pog?????”

“HELLOHELLOHELLOHENSLO”

“TELL HIM WE SAID HI, CHILD”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down. Chat says hi, Grian. And, hey, I’m not a child, what the fuck!? I’m a big man!”

Impulse snickered as Mumbo walked over to the two brothers. Smiling down at them, he helped the two back to their feet. Grian smiled as he set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Tommy, in turn, beamed with pride at his brother and his friends.

“Alright, we spent enough time being emotional and shit. Let’s get going, I have more cool shit to show you guys.”

Laughter filled the cavern as Tommy fixed his hair, his booming man child I’m not a child voice being drowned out as he led them back outside. Slightly huffing. He let out a yelp as he was nearly tackled to the ground from behind. Letting out undignified noises of protest, he turned to see the smug smile of Grian, who was ruffling his hair.

“Alright, big man, show us your land of paradise!”

Barking out a hearty laugh, Tommy ducked out from his brother’s hand before grabbing it, spinning a few times, and pulling him forward.

“Aw, look at them!”

“Wait, so Grian has two sections now?”

------

The traditional booth games in Tavern Town were fun. From balloon darts to milk bottles, to ladder climb and hoop toss, Tommy thought of it all. Unique designs decorated each booth, all holding an individual and unique look. Everything about the area was impressive.

“Where did buy get these for the games? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them in the main server.”

Tommy peered over to Doc, who was inspecting the prizes neatly strung up on all the booths. There were plushies of different types of mods, some familiar, others not. They came in all types of colors and sizes, and were overall impressive. Walking up beside Doc, Tommy just shrugged his shoulders, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I didn’t buy them, I made them.”

Scar perked up, before jumping right into the conversation.

“You what? Toms, that’s impressive! I didn’t know you could sew.”

‘Fucking hell,’ Tommy thought to himself. He didn’t expect to get praise for his simple hobbies.

“Yeah, I sew. I’m actually pretty crafty, being resourceful and shit. I also knit and crochet. It’s not much, but it’s really fucking therapeutic and all that jazz.”

Before anyone else could comment, a dinging noise sounded at one of the booths. Turning to look at the cause of the commotion, they saw that Stress and Impulse had won a game together. Giving each other fist bumps, they watched as a screen popped up, giving them prize options to choose from. After receiving their prizes, they hurried over to Tommy with smiles painted on their faces.

“You bet we’re gonna win one of each plush here.”

A high pitched laughter erupted from Tommy, who was starting to enjoy his decision to hand make all the prizes in his park. Wiping away a tear of joy, the teen I’m eighteen, I’m a fucking man! You’re a child, Tommy beamed at his friends, who smiled warmly in return. Tommy’s joy seemed to increase as more booth alarms were set off, many more prizes coming off the shelves. By the time everyone was ready for the next land, they all had at least two plush toys each.

———

“This is delicious! You baked these?!”

The group was currently sitting in the seating area in the Dream SMP section of the park, more specifically, L’manburg. They had gotten pastries from the duplicate bakery that belonged to Niki. According to Tommy, it was an exact replica to the real thing. The pastries sold there were the same ones Niki sold back at L’manburg. Tommy had used the recipes and techniques that Niki had demistrated to both him and Tubbo to create the dishes.

“If you think these are good, you should taste Niki’s. I swear, her pastries were sent down from Heaven by Jesus himself. They taste fucking amazing, godly.”

Grian smiled as he nudged Tommy’s shoulder with his own. Popping another sweet cake in his mouth, Tommy quirked an eyebrow as he faced the older boy.

“You should teach me some of your hobbies, Starchild. We can do a hobby exchange.”

Tommy visibly brightened up as he wiped some frosting from around his mouth. Smiling, he nodded his head happily.

“Hell yeah! That sounds fuckin’ amazing!”

The group ate with content as they looked around their area. They had already seen the rest of the Dream server lands.

“It’s amazing that you’ve made all of this by yourself. You haven’t even showed us the rest of the park yet! Good job, for a child.”

“Hey! I’m not a fucking child! I’m turning 19 soon!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were an Aries.”

“What’s wrong with being an Aries?”

“Nothing is wrong with being an Aries, Tango.”

“Oh shut it, you Librarian.”

“Librarian?”

“Yeah, the worst sign.”

“First of all, kid, I’m a Gemini.”

------

The rides and games in the DSMP were very diverse and unique. Tommy had really put a lot of effort and time into every attraction, no matter how small. From things as small as a scavenger hunt through the Badlands, water themed adventures in El Rapids, to fast paced coasters in L’manburg.

“Scoot over, bandit child, I’m sharing this ride vehicle with you.”

“What the fuck, man?”

“Oh, don’t act surprised. I know you made it to where two people share a seat just so you can spend quality time with your brother.”

“Oh, fuck off, I didn’t even know you were my brother until an hour and a half ago.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The first ride the group decided to board was dubbed A Home. Entering a little shack, everyone boarded their ride vehicles and waited for the ride to begin. While they waited for the vehicles to move, Tommy explained how he managed to use the latest mods that were added to the server to his advantage. He managed to fit different tracks to different rides in the same builds, as well as add animatronics. Just as he was about to receive yet another wave of praise, the ride began.

“It’s like looking at a younger version of you!”

“That’s kinda the point, genius.”

Grian’s statement, as obvious as it was, was true. As the vehicles left the shack and entered the caravan, and animatronic Tommy, merely 16 years of age, welcomed the riders as they witnessed the beginning of a new home, L’manburg. They kept comments to themselves when they saw, yet again, the replica of Tommy’s old base. The ride track took them through different areas of the DSMP, following the young Tommy as he searched for a home.

“-the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit!!!”

“What?!”

“What does he mean revoked?!”

Before Tommy could reply, the vehicles lurched backwards, keeping the vehicles facing the stage at all times as the animatronics turned to take aim at the riders. It wasn’t until the red stone to the dirt entrance revealed the entry way to Pogtopia that the vehicles did a 180, moving forward into the entry way before going down the spiral steps into the ravine. Laughter filled the air as the group saw animatronics of Tommy, Wilbur and Techno conversing together, joking around and teasing each other. Suddenly, the ride vehicles fell down to the next part of the track, the prime path. As they raced through the tunnel, they witnessed an animatronic Tommy and Tubbo embracing and conversing, their cheerful voices free from worry. The group could only sit in awe as the scenes continued to change.

“-goodbye, Tommy.”

“What does he mean goodbye?!”

“Oh my fucking god, shut up!”

The vehicles suddenly raced through the Nether, coming out to an island far from DSMP. The sign at the entrance of the area welcomed the group to Logstedshire. There, they could see an unhappy Tommy staring out towards the ocean, listening to Chirp as he mumbled nonsense to Clara. And just as quickly as they came, they raced out of the sunny area and into the snow. They raced around the inside of Techno’s cottage before racing outside, towards an empty area. There, an animatronic Tommy yelled out in shock as an animatronic Technoblade pressed a button, turning around as a secret lair was revealed.

“Welcome home, Theseus!”

For the final time, the scene changed. They entered, backwards, into a portal, coming out to face a replica of the spawn to Hermitcraft. There, in wonderous glory, stood an animatronic Xisuma, welcoming the group to Hermitcraft. Then, the track dropped, leaving the riders back at the entrance to the ride.

“Holy shit.”

“Haha! Holy shit is right!”

———

The group quickly learned that Tommy spared no expense in all his attractions. As they explored the different lands, they really saw the individuality of every land. L’manburg had fun rides, including Nation’s Legacy, Blood’s Ballad, Wither’s Wrath, and Creator’s Cabin. Nation’s Legacy is an underground ride that worked like a turntable to tell the history of L’manburg, ending on a grim and looming hint to the possible destruction of the nation. When asked about the fate of L’manburg, Tommy admitted that he appeared in Hermitcraft before he could witness the possible doomsday, so he wasn’t entirely sure what had occured afterwards.

Blood’s Ballad is an interactive ride that used a special red stone technique. The ride vehicles could seat up eight passengers at a time, each using special gloves that allow them to interact with the special ride elements. The goal is to get the most points out of everyone in the ride vehicle. The ride took the group on a journey with Technoblade, the Blood God. The group racked up points training alongside him, as well as fighting all sorts of mobs. By the end of the ride, Tommy was sulking as Stress managed to gather the most points. Stress was enjoying the victory, smiling happily as “SUBSCRIBE TO TECHNOBLADE” boomed through the speakers.

Wither’s Wrath was more of a small scale ride to enjoy. There were only three ride vehicles, each shaped like a wither and able to hold three riders. Each rider sat in a wither skull. Grian smiled as he pulled Mumbo and Tommy into a a wither vehicle with him. As they strapped in, they were transported to a virtual world where the rules of the game were shared. The goal was to cause the most destruction in the virtual world than the other vehicles. Each player controlled their own skull, making it easier to gather points. At least, that was the case for-

“Fuck yeah! Team Kickass all the way! Check it Grian, Mumbo, we’re badass!”

Creator’s Cabin was simple enough. It was just a large cabin that held enchanted portraits of everyone who resided in the DSMP. The portraits could move within their frames. They could also interact with each other. When the group walked in, the portraits were chatting away with each other. Sam’s portrait seemed to be listening in on the conversation that the portraits of Tubbo, Tommy and Purpled were having, occasionally joining in when he saw fit. Fundy was chatting away with Eret and Niki, a bright smile on his face. Ranboo was timidly peeking over at the group with Tommy and Tubbo, obviously wanting to join in. The portraits of Quackity, Sapnap and Karl were deep in conversation, while the portrait of George was asleep sitting up.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are there two portraits of Wilbur?”

“Oh, right. Grian, about Wilbur-”

“AHOY THERE! WHY DON’CHA BOARD ME SHIP AND CONQUER THE WATERS WITH ME?”

The group, aside from Tommy, jumped at the booming voice. Without hesitation, they all ran out to the water, searching for the source of the voice. There, out on the water, stood a lone animatronic. It was the animatronic of a petite woman, one with red curls dancing around as she swayed and spoke. Once more, her confident, melodic voice filled the air.

“JOIN ME ON MY QUEST TO RIDE THE WONDROUS WAVES OF THE SEAS”

With that, she raised her right arm, hoisting a sword into the air. On cue, she began to rise as a ship emerged from the sea below her. Once it was no longer submerged, the ship rocked a few times before settling. A banner unraveled and blew in the breeze, the name of the area now visible for all to see.

Sally de Mon’s Sea Voyage

“You like it? Creating the entrance for this ride was a fucking bastard. Kept me up all night and crap. Almost gave up completely on it.”

“It’s amazing! I was not expecting to see something like that!

“Hey, Tommy? Who’s Sally. I don’t think it was ever explained how you know her?”

“Really? I gotta fix that, then. Sally is my sister-in-law who-”

“I HAVE A SISTER-IN-LAW?!”

“Oh, shit...surprise?”

------

The Badlands was a fun, interactive section of the DSMP area. The various puzzles and mazes made it fun for all the participants. The muffin stand was also a fan favorite to the hermits.

El Rapids was a water-filled adventure. Because he wanted to play around with the word rapids, Tommy made several water-based rides and activities, his favorite being the log ride. They just seemed to be the perfect addition to the area, adding a way to cool down to balance all the water-free rides. It seemed as if Tommy had thought of every type of ride for every type of biome and scenario.

SMP Earth was another large section of the park. It also held the only other largest ride in the entire park, one that led the riders throughout the Antarctic Empire, as well as its surrounding cities and towns. The area for the empire was beautiful decorated in colors of all kind. Flowers and banners decorated the buildings and streets, brightening up the area. Classic activities, such as the sparing rings and archery, as well as the axe throws and parkour courses were set up. It all felt familiar to Grian, who couldn’t help but smile at his brother. Grabbing one of the fliers, he inspected it before shooting his brother a look of uncertainty.

“You didn’t”

“On the contrary, brother dearest, I did!”

“Did what? What did he do?”

Grian laughed as he showed the group what the flier said. It was decorated in beautiful, hand-drawn flowers. Golden lettering perfectly spelt out the message.

Floral Festival of Spring

Join us in the weeklong celebration of Spring! Enjoy the festivities with friends and family as you explore the traditions held within our grounds. Finally, enjoy the wondrous Floral Gala held on the final night of festivities. Dawn your greatest fabrics as you dance the night away, before enjoy a magnificent firework display.

Signed by his royal highness,

Prince Thomas Theseus Minecraft

“He used his full name and everything!”

“Your middle name is Theseus?”

“Your actual last name is Minecraft?”

“Did you actually write this? It’s worded and written so…formally.”

Huffing a bit, Tommy crossed his arms. Fixing his posture, he stood up, tall and proud, as he puffed out his chest. It took everyone every fiber in their bodies to not laugh at the sight of him.

“I can be very formal, thank you very much. I’m not a fucking idiot, I remember the formality lessons the teachers put me through. And I take the offense to that writing comment! Do you know how many attempts it took for me to be able to recreate the stupid fancy font used back at the empire? And another thing-”

Grian playfully hopped on Tommy’s shoulder, startling the younger brother to his usual stance. Ruffling his hair, he assured his brother with a laugh.

“Calm down, Toms. You know that we’re messing with you. You did amazingly. How many more flyers do you have? We’ll set them up in the Hub to be distributed across the main server. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a royal ball, so let’s make it grand!”

Laughing, Tommy had no choice but to agree with Grian. His smile faltered, however, once realization sunk in. The next activity for the group was the campfire. The secrets of his time at the Dream SMP that he kept for over 2 years would finally be revealed.

‘Better late than never to prepare the waterworks’, thought a very nervous Tommy.

#memories in the stars #memories in the stars au #tommyinnit #hermit!tommy au

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

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Magician’s Assistant

No one asked for this, but I decided to continue this cause I love some good villain whump, and I love some good pet whump, so why not mix them together?

Summary: Villain puts on a show for Hero’s friends, and takes a risk that they regret.

I’m open to continuing this if anyone wants ^^ I know it’s a little weird though.

CW//Pet whump, forced to perform, power suppressors, collars, cones of shame, muzzles, bit gags, mitt cuffs, threatened punishment, failed escape, scopophobia, stage fright, dehumanization

“Now, I wouldn’t have to do this if you would behave. I hate doing this, you know. You’re going to make my friends think you’re some kind of wild animal.”

A low growl rumbled in Villain’s throat as their head was jerked around by Hero’s forceful hands. A trio of plastic buttons sounded with a rhythmic pop pop pop as they were undone, allowing the plastic cone attached to their collar to be slipped free and tossed to the ground.

The removal of the opaque blinders sent Villain for a loop, suddenly regaining access to their peripheral vision. Yet, they were given no chance to stumble, or even to ease their dizziness. The fingers gripping their chin like a vice would not allow such a thing.

Hero must have known that the muzzle was too small. The sheer amount of force it took to force the damned piece of metal over Villain’s jaw should have at least told them that. Even as the device was placed on their face, they could not help but whimper in discomfort, unyielding leather and metal already digging into their tender flesh. As their jaw was forced closed, they could feel the bit already within their mouth dig painfully into their gums. Their whimpers soon turned to muffled cries.

“Now, I’m only doing this because you forced my hand.” Their tormentor sighed. “You wear your mitts because you can’t stop picking. You wear your cone because you kept chewing on the mitts. But you can’t wear your cone on stage, and I can’t trust you not to chew. I swear, it’s like Whack-a-Mole, trying to keep up with your habits.”

The muzzle was pulled taut against their face as its straps were pulled back and fastened. Villain whined, the motion of the metal bars on their face forcing their teeth closed over their tongue, washing their taste buds with the bitter taste of blood.

“Now, if you’ll behave.” There was an exasperated overtone to Hero’s voice, as though they were the one leashed and collared like a dog. “The muzzle can come off after the show.”

Villain wanted to maul that expression straight off Hero’s face. Or, maybe just take the whole face off. Their limbs trembled with barely-contained rage, but they had no time to act on it.

“Be good. I’ll be back in a little bit.” They finished, handing off the leash they carried to a guard standing a few feet away. And, with that, they pushed away the heavy curtain and disappeared onto the stage.

A thousand screaming, primal things within Villain screeched at them, howled for them to do something, to fight back. The guard was terribly distracted, leash looped lazily around a wrist while their hands were occupied with a smartphone. It would be so, so easy, so simple to knock them over, knock them out, tear them to pieces and be free and be normal and-

And Villain lowered themself to the floor, laying down on their side.

No. Their wounds still stung from last time. They had learned better than to attempt to flee with so many eyes on them. They just had to sit. Sit and wait. Wait until they were finally left alone again.

The stage lights turned on, filtering through the backstage curtain with their sheer strength. They could hear Hero’s words clearly, but they knew the speech so well, it simply filtered from their ears.

How many times had they done this show, now? They couldn’t bring themself to care. It was better, not to think about what they had become.

A circus animal. A magician’s assistant.

They wanted to escape. Of course they did. They hated this, hated every second of it. They just wanted to go home. For so long they had desired revenge, but that desire had been extinguished alongside their willpower. Now, they just wanted to go home. To be able to use their hands. To be able to drink out of a cup rather than a bowl. To be able to eat something that couldn’t be described as brown slop.

But they couldn’t. All because of a stupid pair of mittens. Dejectedly, they looked down, where there hands were supposed to be. Where now sat only padded paws of black leather, secured around the wrist with taut straps. That was all it took to disable them.

They wanted to scream.

Villain couldn’t count how many times they’d tried to escape. How many guards they’d jumped, how many wounds inflicted.

And, every time, they were thwarted by something so simple. A doorknob. A window latch. A buckle. All because of a stupid pair of mittens.

That, and the power suppressor. They could feel the cold metal against the back of their neck, firmly secured by their collar.

Theoretically, it would be so easy to get out. If they could reach the buckles on their mitts with their mouth, they could get them off, easy. Then, it was just a matter of finding a window and making a run for it.

Simple in theory. Impossible in reality. That didn’t mean they couldn’t try, though. That they couldn’t act in at least a shadow of defiance.

Villain wasn’t broken yet. They would never break, never. No matter what. It may have been too dangerous to attempt to flee with so many heroes around, but once they were back to their cell? Their next attempt would begin. And this time, they’d be faster. Smarter. Better. And one day, they would get out.

The thought sent a long-lost burst of warmth through their chest. Just to make a point, they snarled as best as they could around the muzzle.

Maybe they would knock the guard over. Just for fun. To show Hero that they weren’t going to sit back here like a good little puppy, just because one of their escape attempts had been thwarted.

They didn’t get the chance.

“And now, for my final act, I have a very special guest.” The words boomed out through the speakers as the stage lights dimmed.

It was time for their act.

Still hardly paying attention, the guard leaned down, unclipping the leash from Villain’s collar. Freeing them.

They could run. The door to the rest of the facility was right there. They couldn’t help from turning their head towards it, red-hot adrenaline filling their veins and overriding the taste of iron in their mouth.

The guard’s boot struck their side with practiced swiftness.

“Go.” They grunted.

They had to be patient. Had to do the smart thing. Had to be a good dog, until the moment was right. Once they were back to their cell, then they could stop pretending to be ‘trained.’

But, for now...

They would just have to “behave.”

Villain raised themself to their hands and knees, then, slowly, to their feet. Their taut muscles made their gait terribly tense as they pushed through the curtain and moved onto the stage.

They wanted to go back they wanted to go back they wanted to go back.

Every time they came on stage, they forgot just how horrible it was. Or, perhaps, it simply got worse every time. The stage lights were hot enough to make them feel as though they were laying on asphalt in the dead middle of summer. And, even with the lights obscuring their forms, they swore they could still see every member of the audience. See their eyes, staring, transfixed.

As soon as Villain emerged from the wings, the laughter was overwhelming. It seemed to echo off every wall, resound from every speaker. They swore that their heart and stomach switched places.

Still, they kept moving, even as they shook worse than a nervous chihuahua. It was just an act. An act they knew how to perform, even as they wished more than anything to bleach the memory from their mind.

In the center of the stage, a sort of pyramid had been constructed of wooden chairs, built in such a way that, at the pyramid’s peak, a single chair was balanced. A platform.

Climbing the pyramid, they were unsure if the chairs shook because of their own unsteady placement or because of Villain’s trembling. An eternity of stage lights and staring eyes and chortling audience members later, they were at the top, balanced precariously atop the peak.

They hated the view that the position gave them. There must have been a hundred people out there, a hundred pairs of eyes, a hundred mouths pealing in laughter.

Villain swallowed down a mouthful of bile.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you all of who my assistant used to be.” Hero smiled.

More laughter.

“But now, they’re here to show you just what they can do, when they’re not trying to destroy our city!”

This time, the audience’s chortling nearly drowned out the subtle, mechanical click that sounded from the leather loop about Villain’s throat.

Their power flooded their chest, warmer than the strongest alcohol.

Was it even their power, anymore, when they were only allowed access to it when it pleased their captors? They tried not to think on that for too long.

With measured steps, Hero approached the pyramid of chairs on which their prisoner was precariously perched.

A moment of silence, and Villain was falling.

Hero’s boot struck a leg on one of the chairs forming the structure’s foundation, snapping it effortlessly. At once, the pyramid collapsed.

No matter how many times they performed the act, the way their heart leapt to their throat was always painfully, horribly real.

But it was all an act, and they were the tiger jumping through the hoop.

Villain’s powers tore from their body, swirling about their limbs, their back, their feet, until they were floating, bobbing up and down in the air.

From the audience, applause and amusement resounded in equal number.

“Go!” Hero’s shout cut through the air, a whip striking a performing lion.

Just an act. They could do this, they had done it so many times.

Still allotting plenty of strength to keep themself afloat, Villain sent their power out in every which direction-- a swarm of flies, searching and grabbing whatever they could find.

Gasps echoed from the audience members below as, from the tables before them, their very plates and forks were whisked away. Spiraling dishware formed a series of rings about the floating villain’s body, as though they were a nucleus, circled by energy in pure form.

The chairs were next, legs ripped from seats and seats torn from backs, until sticks of wood formed yet more rings. There were a dozen, now, and hundreds of objects making them up. Villain felt sweat dribble down their forehead, trying to keep track of it all.

But Hero was not yet satisfied. They could see it on their face.

The next batch of dishware came from the kitchens, accompanied by a flood of flying office supplies. New rings formed, staplers and cutlery and serving plates, all spiraling, twisting, until Villain could no longer be seen beneath the sphere they had formed around them.

“Give it up for this former villain!” Hero cried out, and the audience did not protest. Their clapping was interspersed by only a few spots of giggling.

When the applause had reached its crescendo, it was time for the finale. Sweat poured from their forehead in liters, now, dribbling down their sides, a thousand swirling things around them, concealing them from the-

The world beyond.

No one could see them. And with so many things under their control, what was one more?

Undoing the buckle on their muzzle was like spinning plates, while balancing on a ball, which was atop an elephant. While underwater. Every neuron in their mind was pulled in a separate direction, yet, a tiny ounce of residual willpower gave them the strength they needed.

The buckle was undone, the strap pulled free.

This was it. But not yet. No, not yet. They used their powers, holding the muzzle to their face, ensuring that it looked to not have been disturbed at all.

The applause was deafening.

Around them, the rings of dishware and wood scraps and staplers and staples began to grow-- a ball of plasma, writhing as a living thing, breathing, until it took up nearly the whole stage.

All at once, it broke. Each and every of the thousand pieces, the million atoms, stopped spinning. Plates swirled through the air, returning to their original tables without a single chip in their porcelain, cutlery neatly stacked beside them. Office supplies were returned with the same perfection, chairs twisted back into their proper forms, and once again stacked in their pyramidal form.

Villain gasped for breath as they lowered themself to the floor. The resounding applause did not help, not in the slightest. Instead, it made them feel as though garotte wires had been pulled taught about their lungs, their throat. Why did everything have to be so loud?

They hoped that their tears mixed convincingly with their sweat.

When the clapping quieted to nothing, Hero again took center stage.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight!”

More applause. Didn’t their hands hurt?

“That’s all I have for you this time around. Dinner will be out in a moment, and I’ll be joining you all in a moment!”

The noise from the audience continued as Hero turned, moving off the stage. Like an obedient puppy dog, Villain kept on their heels. When, at last, they pushed through the backstage curtain, they felt about to collapse. After a few moments, the horrid cacophony finally, finally stopped.

They were done. They’d done it. They’d pleased Hero, they’d performed, and now, they would be alone, all the way up until the next show.

Hero stopped once the two were firmly backstage, away from the blaring stage lights and the chattering people outside, signalling for Villain to do the same.

“You did good.” A hand in their hair. They wanted to throw up. Or, better, bite Hero’s hand off. “See, if you just behaved like that all the time, you wouldn’t have to wear any of this crap.”

Hero drew their hand from their head.

“Damn are you sweaty. Takes a lot out of you, huh? You can have a rest, then.”

From the guard, they took the leather leash, reattaching it to the collar’s D-ring. And-

A click. The power suppressor.

Then, a clatter. Their muzzle striking the floor. They’d forgotten that they’d removed it.

Oh god oh god oh god.

Any cheer that Hero had been emanating was gone in an instant. This time, the hand in their hair was a restraint, yanking and forcing their head to the floor.

“I swear.” The fury in their tone was barely contained. “I’m done with this! I’m done. I can see that I can’t trust you.”

Villain could hear their heartbeat, banging against the concrete floor below.

“Clearly, you need that lock on the collar. The mitts, too. But that’s going to take some time.”

Some time. Some time to rest.

“If you can’t be trusted on your own, then you’re going to have to go back to your trainer.”

If Villain had any water still left within their body, in that instant, every drop turned to ice.

“They’ll supervise you until your new collar is ready. Come on, now. I can’t wait to explain this to them.”

#villain whumpee #pet whump #villain whump #hero villain whump #whump #whump community #whump aesthetic #magicians assistant

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fowl-fox · 3 years

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I know I keep asking you all these random questions, but- in AF, it always irked me that we never learned about Fowl Sr.’s return to Fowl Manor, given that he was recovering from being in a coma (I know his amputation sight would have been healed by then, but I don’t think he would have been strong enough to walk on a prosthetic for a while- he probably used crutches for a bit). Like... what was that like for the Fowls. I know that the books never go into it, but I would have hoped that it was a brief period of the Fowl Family being just... happy to be together again, even as they were having to dramatically restructure their lives again to adjust to the head of the family being home again, especially for Tim and Angeline. Any thoughts or headcanons or what-not?

Ask as many questions as you like! (That goes for anyone else as well.) It gets my brain going and motivates me to start writing things. Also sorry this took a bit, I've got medical crap going on rn.

As usual, I'm gonna toss this under a Read More, because boy, did this get long, I apologize. And I'm going to warn you, a lot of this delves into how I feel about Artemis' relationship with Tim and Angeline overall. But it's those feelings that drive most of my headcanons, so I feel like it's best to talk about them.

Let's start with Artemis Sr. and his state of being after rescue. I'm gonna pull some quotes from my copies of The Arctic Incident and The Eternity Code throughout my pondering, please bear with me.

At the beginning of TAI, we're given a laundry list of ailments Fowl Sr. has when he's dragged out of the water in the beginning of the book:

"Though the man's clothes were relatively intact, his body had not fared so well. His bare hands were mottled with frostbite. One leg had been snapped below the knee, and his face was a horrific mask of burns."

"He'll lose that leg for sure, (...) A couple of fingers, too. That face doesn't look too good either."

When it's Holly's turn to drag Fowl Sr. out of the water, his heartbeat is dangerously low, due to deadly cold water. We know she kept him alive, healed the chest wound caused by the blunt force of the shell Butler shot him with, as well as a blinded eye that wasn't mentioned previously, but we're not really told anything else, which I suppose leaves it up to our imaginations as to what ailments he's left with.

We know he lost his leg, but did he lose some of those frostbitten fingers? Frostbite doesn't fuck around (Mayo Clinic link, if you'd like), and while it's not mentioned, it would be likely his captors would have had to amputate a few of those as well, to prevent the dead tissue from eventually killing their meal ticket. His face was severely burned from the explosion, how extensive was the scaring after everything was said and done? We know magic can heal scars if that's what the magic is told to do, but Holly probably wasn't worried about that in the moment, and she makes this statement:

"I got him," she gasped, "One live Mud Man. He's not pretty, but he's breathing."

So even with Holly doing what she could, it sounds like Fowl Sr.'s condition was still really rough. Rough enough to need prolonged medical attention. He'd spent nearly two years in a coma before waking up in Murmansk, and the ordeal of his rescue was enough to throw him back into a coma, as we're told in The Eternity Code.

Except wait a minute. In Artemis Jr.'s diary excerpt, we're given some information that contradicts the previous book.

"It had been over two months since Holly Short used her healing magic on his battered body, and still he lay in his Helsinki hospital bed. Immobile, unresponsive.

The doctor's could not understand it. He should be awake, they informed me. His brain waves are strong, exceptionally so. And his heart beats like a horse. It is incredible, this man should be at death's door, yet he has the muscle tone of a twenty-year old.

(…) Holly's magic has overhauled his entire being, with the exception of his left leg, (...) He has received an infusion of life, in body and mind."

(...) my father had no need of medical attention. He simply sat up, rubbed his eyes, and muttered one word: 'Angeline.'"

So now Holly's magic apparently healed everything but the lost leg? What?

I love the Artemis Fowl books, but I will always be a little frustrated with their inconsistencies. But you know what? It's great for giving yourself permission to play around with your headcanons. If Colfer changes what he wants when he wants, I certainly won't feel bad about doing it.

I'm going to go with the TAI and say that Tim was still in a really rough state after everything. Ignoring that supposedly his muscles were fine, he'd still have to learn how to walk on the prosthetic. And tbh, I'm just going to believe that his muscles weren't magically perfect. Maybe easier to build back than they would have been without the magical infusion, but there was definitely gonna be work involved. And that's ignoring probable mental trauma. He was in a coma for a large portion of his captivity, but there was a brief period of time where he was conscious, with captors that maybe couldn't kill him, but definitely didn't treat him well (though it sounds like he was being a difficult captive, but yeah, of course, he's a Fowl lol.)

(Detour Thought: My mental picture of Artemis Senior has always involved heavy facial scarring, especially on the side of his face where the damage was apparently bad enough to blind him.)

But to get back to your original inquiry (Jesus, Blue, I am so sorry at how badly I've dragged this out) I do like to think there would be a period of recovery and restructure that would involve the Fowls getting to be a happy family together. Great potential for a hurt/comfort fic, if you ask me.

I'm going to be frank, (and this opinion puts me at odds with the fandom at large, I know) - from my interpretations of the books overall, while Artemis certainly had a strict upbringing with parents who were usually busy and definitely irresponsible, I never got the sense that it was a loveless childhood. Nor did I ever get the sense that Artemis feared his father as a person, but rather that he feared disappointing him, which at no point are we told ever actually happened. I've read these books a million times, I've never found anything in them suggesting Artemis ever disappointed his father, nor that Tim was ever actually cruel to Artemis. Strict, yes. Overly formal? Definitely. But not cruel.

Now, the fact that he felt he had to jump through so many hoops to maintain his father's approval? Bad parenting, Tim. Also, don't encourage him to be a criminal mastermind, maybe. But also Artemis is an over-achiever by nature, which Tim just either didn't clue in on or more likely imo, thought it was in Artemis' best interests as an heir of a criminal empire to be that way.

Aside from Tim and Angeline later suggesting he try to be more 'normal' and let go of his criminal tendencies, and that one incident of Angeline pulling a guilt trip (all of which is a whole other thing I won't get into rn), Artemis' parents speak positively to and about him. I just honestly think they don't know how to be actual parents, which, being aristocrats, tracks. They function almost more like older siblings after TAI, really, which isn't exactly great, but it could be worse.

We know his father used to read to him regularly when he was little (ending with a kiss on the head, which I always thought was sweet) and we know that Angeline was always warm and available to him whenever possible (until her grief-stricken dementia set in.) Artemis has a moment of angst at how strict/formal his upbringing was compared to the twins, but overall he generally speaks positively of his parents, and he loved and missed them enough to risk his life several times for them. Even when he's frustrated by their joined presence making it harder for him to conduct criminal activities, he still misses them and thinks about them often when he's away from them.

Which yeah, that's what this all boils down to for me. Artemis just wants time with both of his parents, and Artemis Sr.'s recovery, in my headcannon, would absolutely allow for that time he so desperately wanted, deep down. Assisting in the physical recovery, using the down time to really talk and catch up (without mentioning his fairy adventures, of course.) It would be a drastic change and awkward to adjust to initially, but overall I think it would be good.

And as for Tim and Angeline? I think there would be of course the joy of being reunited with the love of your life, because Tim and Angeline are absolutely soul-mates. But I also imagine there were many, many conversations of regrets and questioning how to move forward as a family from this point. Angeline seems to defer to Tim as the one who makes decisions for the family as a whole, but she isn’t afraid to give her input. I bet they were scared, in a way, because not only has everything changed, but the future is uncertain. They have to restructure their whole life, and while overall the changes are positive, they’re not going to be easy.

I also feel like it would be difficult for Angeline in particular because while Tim returning is a joyful thing, she now probably has some self doubts. Why did she fall apart so tremendously, at the expense of not only her well being, but her son’s? While she isn’t the best parent, I imagine Angeline will always carry heartache about her time in the attic and how she forgot her own son. And to an extent I bet Tim does too, because it was his disappearance that triggered it.

And now I want to write a fic about all of this, which I guess I'll add to my pile of ideas I've been playing around with.

–

I'd definitely like to hear more thoughts on the matter from you if you have them!

#fowldom #artemis fowl #fowl senior #angeline #this is long #but i've put a lot of thought into this even before being asked #so here you go #headcanons

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saetoru · 2 years

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rating my usernames in all my time on tumblr !!

don’t even bother commenting on how many blogs and urls i went through. i know. i was having a rough time being content okay. let’s not get into it

my first sfw blog

everesteen - i made this url in middle school with a friend. i genuinely don’t know where it came from or what it means. i am almost certain it was an inside joke on something, but i really can’t remember. i posted my first writing on my tumblr i had since middle school with that exact url, and i ran with it for a while before i decided i needed an anime url. i give it a solid 8/10 for nostalgias sake

teesumu - this url was insanely perfect. it was my whole life at one point. atsumu was my whole life at one point. there were times where i genuinely thought he might take sakusa’s place as my top, but i have stayed loyal to kiyoomi. the kiyoomi url i wanted was taken so this was my second choice and i ran with it and it was so iconic. 15/10

itachiyama - i literally jumped through hoops to contact the person who had itachiyama and asked them if i could have it and they were so sweet about it. i honestly felt like god when i got that url. i was on the fence about changing from teesumu to itachiyama but it was such a power move to have a canon url that i couldn’t not use it. only downside is that since it was a canon url, i got drowned in the tumblr search when you searched me by all the itachiyama related posts so i give it a solid 9.5/10

my first nsfw blog

kiyownme - this url is still so close to my heart. someone took it after i changed it and i forgot to save it on a blank blog so i have them blocked now out of pure spite bc i’m salty. this was a wonderful play on his name and it’s very representative of our relationship since kiyoomi does in fact own me. absolute 11/10

saintmanjiro - this was also a url i used briefly on my old nsfw and then after i deactivated i used it on this one for a bit too. it was good. it was basic and stuff, but saintmanjiro sounds rly good and rolls off the tongue nicely. it has a good ring to it. i give it an 8/10

my personal/writing side blogs (very brief blogs)

minejiro - a great play on manjiros name. i love it. this was basically a personal blog that i had my tokrev and mha side blogs attached to when i deactivated and moved from teesumu / itachiyama. i didn’t post a lot on this blog, but popping into peoples inboxes with minejiro as my url was pretty neat. i give it an 8/10 too.

drakensbby - this was my first tokrev side blog url. this was a flashback to when draken was my first love from tokrev. i heavily replaced him so rip king. but i kinda hated this url ngl. it was so basic and everyone said it was cute and all but i was like no. i need a better one. i was gonna get a better draken url once i thought of one, but before that could happen, i went to loving hanma. 5/10

shujisbaby - this url was a step up from the last one, but also not very unique. it was pretty bland. but i am shuji’s baby so this is not exactly a lie, but it could’ve been better. this can have a 6.5/10

shujiphoria - this url was so cute. she was such an icon. she carried my url history on her back with her slay queening girl bossing self. she was such a great play on his name. i loved her. but then she was also still kind of basic bc there were a lot of phoria urls going around so i was like ugh nooo but i still loved her. 9.5/10

hanmine - this was good. it was great. i liked it. it really established my dominance as hanma’s one and only. he’s mine you know. but then ppl kept saying it looked like hanime and i was like :/ so 7/10

katsuphilia - this was my mha side. she never had a url change bc i never rly used her oops. she was cute. she was adorable. you couldn’t go wrong with her. she had a cute theme too. i liked her. 8.5/10

this blog

hoeruchiyo - besides briefly being saintmanjiro as stated above, this was my next url. it was good. i like it a lot. i was having a bigggg sanzu phase at the time so i rly rly liked it. the downside of this one is that since it has hoe at the front, and tumblr ig censors that word a bit, when you searched me, i didn’t show up at first unless you typed like half the url instead of just the first few letters and that kind of bothered me. i give it a 7/10 bc i love sanzu, but not enough to commit to a url for him bc i love hanma and shinichiro more

sakusins - i actually planned on using this as my first nsfw url wayyyy back and then i backed out and then when i decided again that i’d have a nsfw and actually committed to it, i used kiyownme instead. i never actually had a sakusa url under any blogs i went by tee on (i used an alias on my old nsfw), so i thought it was long overdue. i rly love this url and i’m very content with it and i don’t think i’ll be changing any time soon at all. it’s short and cute, it shows up on the search properly, it’s a fun play on his name, and it has relation to my blog content. very great url choice i rly slay queened with this one. 10/10.

#tee talks

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newyorkrican922 · 2 years

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I know a bunch of people will just scroll through this and that is fine. This is just a personal rant and sometimes I need to vent about because I’m still a bit upset about it.

I’ve had a roommate for the past three years now. We met through my sister and became friends ourselves. Everything was pretty good when we moved in. No arguments or issues. Mind you, I’m not the tidiest person out there. It’s not that mess doesn’t bother me, it’s just like a good 80-90% of the time I have no energy to do so or it adds to my anxiety. Thus I form guilt over it, I get depressed, and my mental strength goes down the drain because cleaning is piled on to the things I have to do that I’m already worrying about on top of a full time job where half the time I’m definitely working in some form over hours dealing with parents and my bosses, trying to make sure the children I work with get their services. Plus trying to ensure I have groceries and maintain a social life. I’ve had so many people tell me I never do things for myself, I’m always doing things for other people. It’s draining, you get the point. Executive function blah blah blah.

We’ve had this discussion a few times about my stepping up and cleaning. I feel I definitely gotten better to the point where certain things are automatic for me, I.e. wiping down the counters in the kitchen and counters right after I mess them up, same with the shower, and TMI - taking the hair from the shower (I have androgynous alopecia so my hair falls out A LOT), sweeping the kitchen when I’m done, cleaning while I cook, ya know basic things a functioning adult SHOULD be able to do. If there’s a mess, I keep it to my bedroom and out of the common areas.

Today was the one day I had left to go grocery shopping and Christmas shopping. I was meeting my sister for the Christmas shopping portion and was in a rush after I got out of the shower. So I do my thing and get everything. As I’m loading the first couple of bags into the apartment, things were fine, but she did approach me about something to do with cleaning. She asked me if I can start picking up my hair off the floor after I do it or in the shower. I reply to her, I wipe down the shower after I use it every time and always take my hair out of the drain and sure, I can get better and I will try to be more mindful of picking it up off the floor. Mind you, I’m about to rush out to go get my second bunch of bags, but I made a comment about I don’t realize when the hair falls out of my head when I’m brushing it or putting up, etc. I go back to get the rest of my stuff out the car. I come back in, she gives me the silent treatment. At this point, I’m annoyed now and I just said, ‘if you have something to say, just say it. I’m not doing this thing again where you give me the silent treatment.’ She mumbles something about it being the same thing and gets all pouty. I finish loading my stuff, load the dishwasher, and clean up after myself/the kitchen. She makes a point to clean the bathroom and then goes into her room. Oh and while I’m doing the stuff in the kitchen, she makes it a point to show me the hair she pulled off the drain to throw it away. (Mind you, her main point was the floor, not the shower). Like that is so fucking petty and passive aggressive.

I’m just so freaking tired and frustrated . It’s like now she’s nitpicking how I clean and it’s not up to her standards. We live in a nice apartment and don’t have any issues with pests. I feel like I’m constantly jumping through hoops to appease my roommate and her standards. It’s constant shady comments during regular conversation about how ‘I don’t know how much cleaning she actually does or how much of her cleaning I don’t see.’ I’m sorry I didn’t jump right then and there to do what you asked me to or validate your feelings like I always did before, but my actions over time proved I’ve stepped up. Today was one moment I forgot to take my hair out of the drain! I’m fucking human, I’m going to forget, especially while I’m getting ready you needed to use the bathroom while I was getting ready and disrupt my routine and then I have to go! I also don’t appreciate being spoken to like a child or a bad pet that has to had their nose pushed into what they did wrong. Talk to me like a human and someone who is on your level.

She has a passive temper tantrum and left the apartment. I gave her the silent treatment right back. Her and I already got into another non- related issue, but so many people in my family and my friends were telling me they don’t really like her that much. She has a tendency to be all about herself and selfish, she a conditional friend, and likes to take advantage. It took me this long to realize that because she’s been with me through some really tough times and who has stood up for me against my own sister when we had issues (another story).

I know this is like all over the place, but am actually in the wrong? At this point I really don’t know what to do anymore.

#about me #roommate problems #self-rant

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glassesandkim · 3 years

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I would like to say my piece here about schmico, grey’s anatomy, and the fandom and it’s really for my own self-indulgence and benefit. I’m not asking for you to agree with me or even begin to understand what I’m going on about. I don’t even think half the things that I think about for this fandom exists on an important level. I fully believe in just ~vibin’~ to your own tune when it comes to participating in fandom spaces.

so this post is gonna be my way of getting stuff off my chest so i can continue to ~vibe~

First thing I’d like to address is: I know. I know the Nico Kim that I love and adore is not the Nico Kim in canon. He is who I hope he is in canon. But there’s not much to combat or support that he is or isn’t. He really could be who we’ve made up in fanon for him and at the same time, he really couldn’t. Grey’s created this character that is as blank as a dried piece of toast. So forgive me if I spread a bit of spicy jam here and there so I can swallow this bland shit down a little easier.

So when people come to me to say, “Y’all are delulu and out of your mind to love this guy this much.” PLEASE, I know. This isn’t news, honey. I am well aware.

But I will continue to justify, romanticize, and put this boy on a pedestal for as long as his existence in canon continues to remain arbitrary and vague. And it makes me very biased to a fault but I have put too much time and energy into this character NOT to be.

And then you might ask, why have I put so much of my time and life (THREE YEARS!!!! I’VE BEEN IN THIS FANDOM FOR THREE YEARS!!!!!!!!!!) into this character that has all but said maybe like a PAGE of dialogue at most?

Because I was conned into it. Because they marketed the shit out of him when Alex Landi got the part. And I, as a casual viewer of Grey’s since I was in high school (I’m in my late 20s now, dawg) and of Asian descent was promised representation. Not just Asian rep, but queer rep.

So naturally, I got extremely attached. It's not everyday a major Western mainstream prime time medical drama chooses to create a character as unique as Nico's.

I spent so much time here. I was here when fandom decided Nico would call Levi “babe”. I was here when we all clowned that Nico didn’t know Levi’s first name. I was here when Josh died and the fandom went up in arms with pitchforks and stakes against Nico. I was here for all of it. I've seen it all.

And unfortunately, seeing it all, makes me tired. Grey’s is time and time again proving to me that they don’t give a shit about the development and well-being of their existing characters at all. The show only cares about collecting diversity points and performing their wokeness to the general masses. (I talk a lot about how grey's is plot-driven vs. character-driven.)

I will still get frustrated and annoyed at Nico’s lack of character development. But I mostly just laugh at the fandom nowadays. I know you guys want to fight the fight, tell everyone Nico is not toxic!!!!!! But bros, friends, lovers, it’s a tried and tired fight.

Grey’s wants us to think Nico is a Bad Boyfriend. It’s as clear as the stench one comes across when they step on dog shit. That’s why I think it’s useless to fight people about Nico. Grey’s gets amnesia all the time. Grey’s forgot the whole season and half they invested in creating a loving boyfriend for Levi and up and changed Nico’s personality to fit a new narrative (that they, quite frankly, failed to even follow through because of covid and other filming hoopla hula hoops they’ve had to jump through that I’ve been informed of and which I simply don’t care for).

So all this ~schmico is endgame!!! we deserve it!!!~ Binches, I have better things to fight for than schmico endgame. What’s the alternative? Levi lives in Jo’s closet forever? They’re going to be together in the end no matter what. Nobody on that show cares enough about Nico OR Levi to set up new relationships and stories for them. So don’t fret, my friends. They’ll be together in the end. It just comes down to the question of what stupid story they’re going to come up with for them to be together. (And might I argue that they already are together???)

Speaking of the bogus story they’re going to write for schmico: you bet my rice eating, Chinese-speaking ass, that it’s not going to be a story written from a queer and poc perspective. It’s going to be some gag-worthy straight het story but made gay. (How many times do I have to hear, "I hope Nico comes out to his parents!!" NO, HE DOESN'T! Do you know how VIOLENT coming out is sometimes?? It's not a solution to Nico's problems with Levi. It's an introduction and invitation to problems over being queer -- but why would I expect anyone, let alone Grey's, to understand that prepetuating these types of stories is inherently damaging to queer people? They wouldn't know. The cishet fandom wouldn't know. Because no one is writing grey's in a queer, poc centric way.)

Which drives me to the next point: you know why Nico doesn’t get character development even though he showed up at the same time as Link? Because of ✨racism ✨. Because Link is a more conventional character (read: white) that is easier to write because nobody on this show knows how to write an Asian character anymore, let alone a gay Asian character. So of course, nobody wants to touch that shit even with a pogo stick. (Argue with me that Cristina exists and I will tell you, yes she did, but they RARELY touched upon her cultural and ethnic background. Also it was the early 2000s. Cristina was as ground breaking as it got for us Asians back then.)

And then because Nico isn’t developed enough, we have the weird phenomenon of people shipping everyone and their dog with Levi and it’s like, y’all know you got played by the racism game, right? You are hostages to this system that has taught you that white men are more desirable and deserving of story and humanity than a poc character who is instead, reduced to nothing but sex appeal and if he’s not doing well on that front, then he’s useless.

How many times does Levi say: Nico is so hot! Sex with Nico is so good! He’s a roman statue!

All!! the!! time!! Nico's worth to Levi’s character is to be the sex object that Sets Him Free.

Which plays into the sexualization of Asian people which all comes from, you guessed it! Racism! (Levi really compared Nico to a fucking lifeless slab of stone.)

(Side note: I do think talking about how racism plays into Nico’s character and the fandom space is important and probably a separate post. I’m happy to write my opinion piece on it if it’s something people want.)

But anyway, those are just some of my qualms with schmico, grey’s anatomy, and the fandom. I do not expect anyone to fully agree with me and I’m not asking the fandom to change or apologize or whatever. I’m just already grateful if you took the time to even read this post.

I’ll leave with some parting advice: fandom is what you make of it. We won’t all agree with everyone’s hot takes, but that’s the beauty of it, yeah? So I chose to create this version of Nico Kim that brings me IMMENSE joy. Like, A LOT!!! I love this fandom for these reasons. I’m grateful everyday for the friends I’ve made and the works and creations I’ve created and I’m honoured to be able to consume other works made by fellow fans.

I might hate a lot of things about grey’s and schmico, but I really owe a lot of myself to this fandom.

#know that i'm always angry but i know how to have fun lol #schmico::::

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moondancediner · 3 years

Text

Be My Escape - Chapter 4: The Tell

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of drug use

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x OC

Word Count: 4,259

A/N: This one's a bit shorter and much more of a filler but I hope you still enjoy it :)

updated 4/6/2024

<-3 || 5->

darling, i'm not interested

in flowers or lust

offer me a bouquet

of empathy and trust

- Michaela Angemeer

---

Monday morning rolled around and Penny was dreading it. Her alarm went off around six am - and by her alarm she meant Scott banging on her bathroom door. Penny rolled her eyes and pulled her comforter over her head to shield her from her cousin and the outside world.

Scott had been banging on her door first thing in the morning - and every other chance he got throughout the day - the past two days and Penny was holding out strong. She hasn’t spoken to Scott or Stiles all weekend despite the countless text messages, phone calls, and door assaults. She stayed in her room all day, only leaving when she knew for certain the coast was clear.

Dinner was awkward, especially since she couldn’t tell her aunt that she was mad at her best friend and cousin because they lied to her about said cousin being a werewolf for almost three weeks and just thought she wouldn’t eventually catch on.

She couldn’t tell Lydia or Allison what happened either for the same reasons, and she couldn’t go out with them because she didn’t know how to pretend like all of this wasn’t happening. So all Penny could do was sit in her room with her headphones on full blast trying to figure out how she was going to get through school on Monday.

Penny honestly didn’t know what to do. She trusted Scott and Stiles and to find out they were lying to her since she got here was heartbreaking. She didn’t have many people in her life that she could lean on and getting over the hurdle of lies was harder than she expected. It should have been fine, she should have been able to rationalize that they were just trying to protect her and keep her safely away from whatever trouble they were in, but she couldn’t because that was dumb and they were dumb and all of this was dumb.

Scott finally left for school on his bike after 30 minutes of non stop pestering, and Penny was finally able to leave the house. She straightened her hair and parted it down the middle. Opting for simple and small gold hoop earrings and her usual mascara, she didn’t feel like putting much effort into her look today - something she knew Lydia was going to question her about at some point in the day, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She grabbed a flannel out of her closet and paired it with a plain gray V-neck tank top and her favorite ultra high rise skinny jeans that covered enough of her stomach so she wouldn’t get in trouble.

One last check in the mirror and a deep breath to calm her anxiety and she was ready to leave. That was, of course, until she got outside and tried to start her car. Penny completely forgot about her starter issue and slammed her head against her steering wheel a few times before she pulled out her phone and started texting Lydia and Allison to see if one of them would come pick her up.

It was short lived though, because before she could send out a text, someone knocked on her car window, nearly scaring the life out of her. She jumped at the sound and stopped her phone somewhere into her car’s abyss. She placed her hand over her beating heart and looked to the window to see a smiling Stiles, trying to contain his laughter. Penny rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat, thanking the universe for her very poor luck today.

Stiles opened the car door, and bent at the waist to be more eye level with the brunette, who was now ignoring him again.

“Come on Pen, let me drive you to school.” She continued to stare straight ahead, ignoring her friend’s pleading. Of course he would remember that she had no ride to school. “Fine then,” Stiles caved and plopped himself down on the ground, flipping to lean his back against the car Penny was currently sitting in. “I’ll just wait here, for whenever you’re ready to forgive me for being the biggest idiot in the world… you know it wasn’t my idea to keep this from you… totally all Scott’s fault. I wanted to tell you right away, you know? I figured out that your cousin got turned into a werewolf and the only person I could think to call was you and-”

“Really?” Penny interrupted. Her and Stiles used to be thick as thieves when she lived here and even when she came for visits during the summer. They were practically inseparable. But they hadn’t seen or talked to each other in three years at least so the idea that she was the first person on Stiles’ call list for something this huge, threw her a little.

“Well, yeah. You always believed me, even when we were kids. So can we please just agree to be mad at Scott and you can start talking to me again because I have so much to tell you and it’s driving me kinda nuts. You’ll never believe what happened last night, and all the research I’ve done. It’s-“

“Are you done monologuing?” Penelope asked, looking down at Stiles.

“Depends,” Stiles replied, he leaned his head back, looking up at her through his long eyelashes.

“On..?”

“Are you done being mad at me?” Stiles turned so he was facing the interior of the car, and now that he was, he could see the small smile on her face, solidifying his victory.

“I’m like, 50% not mad at you anymore.”

“That’s a win for me.” Stiles gave a fist pump and then hopped up from his spot on the ground. Once he was fully standing and dusted off, he reached a hand out which she took to hoist herself out of her car.

“My poor baby,” Penny commented once she was out of the car and the door was shut. She patted the exterior twice before finally walking away.

“How much is a new starter?” Stiles asked, leading the way to his own baby.

“It’s only like 60 bucks which isn’t too bad, but if it’s not just the starter that’s broken I could be opening a very expensive can of worms.” One that she for sure didn’t want to open or deal with right now, but also the idea of throwing away or selling one of the last things of her dad’s that she owned was not something she was ready to face. They got themselves situated in Roscoe and Stiles started driving towards the school, a few minutes down the road she decided to break the silence. “So are you going to tell me what happened last night or do I have to read your mind?” Penny joked.

Stiles got very excited, completely forgetting about all the things he needed to tell her. “I don’t even know where to begin,” Which was a lie because he totally did. Stiles dove into his adventure last night with his dad, seeing another dead body, dropping a few theories on who he thinks the alpha is, and Jackson’s temper tantrum.

“Wait, so did Lydia see something?” Penny interrupted, her own brain working a million miles a minute.

Her cousin is a werewolf, there’s a giant murderous Alpha out there trying to get him to be part of his lame pack, and on top of it all her mom was still missing. Oh, and she was seeing things that weren’t there. A whole bag of fun.

“I have no idea, I gotta try and find her at school today and ask her in a way that doesn’t sound crazy.” Stiles said, shaking his head at his own idea.

She really wanted to tell Stiles about what she went through at the game the other night - because none of that was making any sense - but they pulled into the school parking lot and she lost her chance. But, before she lost her nerve she decided to at least tell him she needed to tell him something. “Hey, can we hang out after school? I gotta tell you about something, but I don’t wanna do it here.” She grabbed her backpack from him, who got it from the back of his seat for her, but avoided eye contact with him.

“Pen,” Stiles said, bobbing his head down to find her dark, chocolate brown eyes. “You can tell me anything, anytime.” He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart want to stop, and she smiled back, forever grateful to have a friend like him. A realization then crossed Stiles’ mind and he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Is that my flannel?”

“What? No, it’s mine.” Penny looked down at herself, wondering how one of his flannels would have even ended up in her closet? She hadn’t been here that long.

“I’m like 90% sure that’s mine.” Without thinking Stiles reached behind Penny, pushing her hair and head out of the way to grab the tag.

“Woah! Stiles!”

“Yeah, S for Stiles, see?”

“I can’t really see what’s behind me, Sty,” She looked at him, head tilted sideways and hair all in her face, with her eyebrows raised in that adorable sassy way that made Stiles want to just kiss her.

“Well you’re just gonna have to take my word for it, smalls.” Stiles replied in the same tone. “How did you not notice, that thing is like three sizes too big for you.”

“I don’t know, sometimes I buy things oversized,” She shrugged but otherwise tried to drop the subject because her face was starting to get hot with all the touching and close contact.

—-

Penny flipped through her chem notes while Mr. Harris droned on about parent teacher conferences. She thought for sure she was going to have to go, being the new girl and all but her grades so far have been passable enough to get her out of this one.

“Has anyone seen Scott McCall?” He asked, stopping at the table Penny and Stiles were sitting at, looking to them for answers they did not have. Scott had been MIA since he left for school this morning. Allison too, now that Penny thought about it. Her and Lydia spent the morning putting balloons and decorations in Allison’s locker for her birthday, but they hadn’t heard anything from her all morning.

Stiles was slowly highlighting the entire text book yellow and it was quickly killing Penny on the inside that he was wasting such a beautiful tool. He finally slowed down a little, looking up at Mr. Harris just as Jackson strolled into class looking a little worse for wear. Harris walked over to him once he took his seat and had a cute favoritism moment before continuing to the front of the class, completely forgetting - or just ignoring - the Scott situation.

“Hey, do you think Jackson looks a little pale?” Penny whispered, leaning across the table to where Stiles was. She also tried to steal the highlighter away but he dodged her attempt. Instead, he nodded, highlighter cap still in his mouth, eyes bouncing from Penny to Jackson.

Penny was in no way Jackson’s number one fan, but that didn’t mean she wanted the guy to die either.

“Everyone, start reading chapter nine.” Ah, the good old I’m not teaching today, so you all teach yourself methodology. “Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs, it’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

Stiles quickly looked at Penny who was wearing a ‘oh, what a dick’ face before looking back to the front, launching the cap above his head, and catching it without looking. 10 points for Gryffindor.

“Hey Danny, can I ask you a question?” Stiles asked, leaning across the aisle. Danny didn’t even stop reading and just replied with a simple no that had Penny looking down at her textbook, trying to hold back a laugh. It didn’t seem to deter Stiles though because he let Danny know that he was going to anyway. “Did Lydia show up in your home room today?”

Danny sighed, clearly annoyed but still answered another simple, yet effective “no”. Stiles paused for a moment, quickly looking back at Penny for moral support. She gave a quick shrug in reply and he continued on his quest.

“Can I ask you another question?” Stiles asked once he was turned back around and leaning even closer to Danny.

“Answers still no,” Danny replied.

“Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?” Stiles continued anyway.

“He wouldn’t tell me,” Danny replied after a little pause, keeping his head down.

“But, he’s your best friend.” Stiles helpfully pointed out. Danny didn’t answer that one, just shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading. “One more question?”

“What?” Danny asked, fed up with the 20 question game Stiles was playing.

“Do you find me attractive?” Stiles asked, leaning forward until he fell off his stool and Penny had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from busting out laughing.

——

Stiles and Penny exited the classroom after the longest hour of their lives. Both of them tried texting Scott but he was either ignoring them or dead. Penny hoped for his sake it was the latter. When Scott turned into a dead end she tried Allison, but she was a no-go also, hopefully also dead in a ditch with her cousin.

“Finally! Have you been getting any of our texts?” Stiles asked, once Scott finally answered a phone call. Penny was too short to hear any of what Scott was saying but from Stiles’ responses it wasn’t going well. “Do you have any idea what’s going on? Lydia is totally M-I-A, Jackson looks like he’s got a time bomb inserted into his face, another random guys’ dead and you have to do something about it…. Something.” After another short pause, waiting for Scott’s reply, Stiles shook his head and put his phone away, clearly annoyed that his friend just hung up on him.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me, detective.” Penny commented, following Stiles down the hall.

----

After school, Penny and Stiles drove over to Lydia’s house, hoping to find her there and get some answers as to what she saw the previous night. When they arrived, Ms. Martin answered the door and showed them up to her daughter's room, where she was laying on the bed looking dazed and playing with her fingers.

“Honey, there’s a Penny and a Stiles here to see you,”

“What the hell, is a ‘Stiles’” Lydia responded, not bothering to look in their direction. She sounded high as a kite, and looked it too.

“She took a little something to ease her nerves, you can go in.”

“Thanks,” Stiles replied. Ms. Martin gave one last look at her daughter before walking out, leaving the door open. Lydia turned then, placing a hand on her barely covered hip and looking at the pair. Her blue teddy was hardly holding it all in and Penny noticed Stiles noticing.

“What are you doing here?” Lydia asked, clearly on some heavy medication.

“We wanted to make sure you were okay.” Penny answered, moving closer to her purple bedspread. She made a noise of content, turning back to assess her cuticles again before deciding she needed more clarity.

“Why?” She asked, patting the bed as an invite for the two to sit down.

“Uh,” Stiles nervously laughed, but moved to sit on the bed, “we were worried about you today. How are you feeling?” Penny followed his moves, sitting pretty close to him to fit all three of them on the bed. She knew that he had a crush on Lydia, it was painfully obvious, so when she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed his bicep Penny was sure he was freaking out. And when she sat up, and told him how she was feeling, Penny was sure he might pass out.

It was then that Penelope noticed the drugs on her nightstand, and reached over Stiles to grab them. “Woah,” after reading the label on Lydia’s tranquilizers, she passed them off to Stiles, who shared her reaction. Penny was surprised she was even awake right now, let alone able to form a sentence.

“Bet you can’t say ‘I saw Suzie sittin’ in a shoeshine shop’ ten times fast,'' Stiles asked, now amused. Lydia took his challenge with gusto, Penny gave her credit for that but the words coming out of her mouth certainly didn’t line up with what was going on in that pretty brain of hers.

“I saw Shuzy… I shaw…” Lydia tried. Stiles laughed, moving to put the meds back where Penny found them. “I saw..” She drifted off, and Penny thought she might have looked a little terrified, or as terrified as she could look with as high as she was right now.

“What, Lydia, what did you see?” Stiles asked, it seemed like they might get some answers today after all.

“Something.” Lydia responded, zoning off into nothing. Penny moved closer to Stiles, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

“Something like… like a mountain lion?” He asked.

“A mountain lion.” Lydia responded, just repeating what she had been told by authorities.

“Are you sure you saw a mountain lion? Or are you just saying that because that’s what the police told you?” Stiles asked.

“A mountain lion.” She repeated, still staring off into nothing. Penny got off the bed and reached for the giraffe being used as a pill bottle holder on Lydia’s bedside table.

“What’s this?” The brunette asked, kneeling down in front of her new friend so she could clearly see the stuffed animal.

“A mountain lion.” Lydia responded confidently.

“Yeah, I think we lost her Sty,” Penny stated, placing the animal back in its home. But Stiles was otherwise occupied when the strawberry blonde placed her hand on Stiles’ thigh and laid her head down on it. He froze for a few seconds, eyes wide, before quickly standing up and brushing the girl off of him, nearly knocking Penny down on his way.

“Well, I think we should go.” Stiles said, reaching for Penelope’s hand to help her off the ground and drag her away from this place, “Gonna let you get back to the whole, post-traumatic stress thing.” The door was almost shut when Lydia made one final request.

“Stay.” One small word made Stiles stop in his tracks and made Penny wonder if she should give them some alone time. He turned, hand still in Penny’s, and looked to the hallway, then back in the room. He quickly pulled them back into the room, shutting the door.

“Me? Stay? You want me to stay?” He asked, leaving his friend completely in the dust. Lydia sat up, seducing Stiles over to the bed, which he totally fell for, sliding right back to the spot he previously occupied. Penny felt awkward, watching the exchange from the door. This was not something she ever wanted to watch, really. Lydia put her hand on Stiles’ face, asking him again to stay, a request he was powerless to deny but when she said Jackson’s name, all hope was lost. “And, we’re done here.”

Lydia flopped down on her bed, the drugs in her system taking full effect and knocking her out cold. Stiles looked back at Penny, who was still standing near the door and was trying really hard not to crack a smile at what just happened. He was about to say something to her when Lydia’s phone emitted a jingle to let her know she just received a text.

“You want me to get that?” Stiles asked, reaching for her phone anyway. Penny got a text from Allison a few seconds later, thanking her for the balloons and card. She was about to respond when Stiles was suddenly in her face and dragging her out of the house.

“Woah, Stiles slow down, what’s going on?” Penny frantically tried to get her short legs to move faster down the stairs.

“I’ll show you at my house.” They made it downstairs without injury and were out the door and in Stiles’ car before Penny could blink.

Once in the car, Stiles threw a phone at her, which she instantly recognized as Lydia’s. “You stole Lydia’s phone?!” She asked, now looking at Stiles like he was crazy.

“Yes, don’t look at me like that, just watch the video she took.” Stiles answered, throwing the Jeep in reverse and racing out of the Martin’s driveway. Penny buckled herself in and opened the phone, which was already open to a nightmare inducing video of a giant something busting out of the video store window. Stiles should have grabbed the tranquilizers on his way out too because Penny did not know how she was going to sleep tonight knowing that thing was out there.

“What the hell is that?” She asked.

“I think that’s the alpha.”

---

“Hey it’s me again, look I found something-”

“We”

“We found something and I don’t know what to do, okay? So, if you could turn your phone on right now that’d be great. Or else I’ll kill you. Do you understand me? I’m gonna kill you. And I’m too upset to come up with a witty description about how exactly I’m going to do it, okay? I’m gonna… ugh! Goodbye.” Stiles hung up the phone and chucked it haphazardly onto the bed where Penny was currently lounging, reading her history textbook and notes from the day.

“Deep breaths Sty,” Penny commented, not looking up from her textbook. Was she freaking out on the inside? Of course, but at this moment there wasn’t much to do without Scott. And she had a test tomorrow, so… precedence and all that. Stiles finished wearing a hole in his floor and sat on his chair, crossing his arms over the back and laying his head on them. Not even a second later though, his dad came knocking on the door.

“Hey, Mr. S,” Penny greeted.

“Hi, sweetheart,” He smiled at her, “Please tell me I’m gonna hear good news at this parent- teacher thing tonight.”

“Depends on how you define ‘good news’” Came Stiles’ reply.

“I define it as you getting straight A’s with no behavioral issues.” The sheriff answered, rolling the sleeves on his nice button up shirt.

“You might wanna rethink that definition.” Stiles replied, fidgeting with whatever he could get his hands on.

“Enough said.” His dad replied, smiling once more at the two of them before heading out. Stiles sighed again, laying his head back down.

“We’ll figure it out, Sty.” Penny told him once she knew the sheriff was out of hearing distance.

“I gotta delete it.” He said. Losing his inner battle to wait for Scott or not. But his best friend was letting him down in the moment he needed him the most. Penny was going to respond but she saw the turmoil in his face and decided to let him do whatever he felt he needed. She knew that they couldn’t let that video be on Lydia’s phone, if she saw that and sent it around it could end up in the wrong hands. Penny saw him delete the video and then throw the phone back down on his desk.

“You okay?” She asked, closing her history book and putting her things back in her backpack. He whipped his head back, forgetting she was even there for a second.

“Yeah,” he replied, giving her a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Hey, wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me?” Stiles asked, looking for any excuse to change the subject but also concerned about what was going on with Penny.

“Ugh.” Came her reply. She forgot about her problems. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” She shook her head, now sitting up on Stiles’ bed, legs crossed, looking down.

“That’s the last thing I would think about you, Pen.” He replied, swiveling his chair around to face her. When she didn’t respond to him he pushed off the ground to move closer to her. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it I’ll be here, doesn’t have to be today. Though it would be nice if it was today because this will just drive me crazy until you tell me.” She laughed at him, something that brought a genuine smile to his face.

“Fine, um… wow, how do I even start this.” She fidgeted with her long sleeve before diving in, “remember at the game when you looked at me and then I closed my eyes and looked away?” Stiles nodded, he thought she got some kind of headache but wasn’t a hundred percent sure. “I felt like, a really intense migraine coming on, and everything around me got super loud, and then all at once it got quiet. Like deadly silent. So I opened my eyes and…” she trailed off, not sure what to say at all. All this time she was able to tell herself that it didn’t really happen because nobody else knew about it, but saying it out loud meant admitting to herself that it did happen, that she was crazy, and that maybe she was going to end up like her mom.

“Did you see something?” He asked, he reached out for her hands. She was picking at the skin around her nails, and Stiles was afraid she might make herself bleed if she didn’t stop.

“I saw… Everyone around me, dead. And not just like, flopped over, eyes closed. No, like blood everywhere, eyes open staring right at me. Aunt Mel was covered head to toe in blood, and you- you had huge gashes across your stomach, and then I looked up and Scott was just standing in the middle of the field, staring off into the woods. So when I looked over to see what he was looking at, I just saw two red eyes staring directly at Scott. I didn’t even realize I had stood up until I felt a hand on my arm and when I looked down at my aunt everything was back to normal.”

Stiles didn’t answer, just looked at her trying to figure out what exactly to say about something like that.

“See, I told you it was crazy.” Penny said, looking down at her lap and increasing her grip on Stiles’ hands.

“I don’t think you’re crazy Pen, I just- I don’t know.” He shook his head, trying to say something that would make her not feel crazy. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together. Alright?”

“Yeah. Together.” Penny said, looking up in his eyes.

She would end worlds for those eyes.

---

<-CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 5->

Thanks so much for reading!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to Teen Wolf

These characters, with the exception of Penelope Delgado, aren’t mine but this fanfiction is.

#be my escape #teen wolf #season 1 #episode 5 #bikini #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles fanfiction #stiles x oc #stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf season 1 #teen wolf oc #teen wolf rewrite #series rewrite

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sunshineandcybertronians · 4 years

Text

Buffer - Knock Out x reader

Word count: 2, 503 Warnings: none A/N: Was washing a car, decided to write this and did a TON of research.

"(Y/n), you need to wash me and buff out these scratches. Earth is fun to race on, but can be a pain when dirt gets all over my finish!" Your friend, Knockout complained while brushing himself off as he entered the medbay. "And it doesn't help that the Autobots have to scratch me whenever I'm just doing my job.”

A while ago, when you were minding your own business, simply walking on the outskirts of Jasper, you spotted a fight. But not a normal fist exchange, giant robots who you would learn were called cybertronians. Knockout was in that fight. Before the other bots could, he grabbed you, transformed into an Aston Martin, and pulled you through a green-blue, swirling portal.

When he changed back when on the Nemesis, you, being the perfectionist you were at times, pointed out a nasty scratch and that he'd need to get that buffed out. To that comment he agreed. He told you that he captured you so you wouldn't run and tell all of your human friends about him, and later when their leader, Megatron questioned keeping you alive, he also said that you would be a good bargaining chip if the Autobots had something they wanted. Now you weren't a hostage. You helped Knockout with injured Decepticons, which you noted that he was actually a fairly good teacher. And, of course, you aided him with his cosmetic needs.

You smiled upon seeing him again, but it faded to a look of concern when he came closer and you could see the marks. The worst spot was above his right headlight. It had several small, horizontal cuts where the pain had been stripped off as if someone had taken a rock and swiped while dug it into that area.

"You're right." Then you remembered your act. "But I just buffed you two days ago," but even as you stated it, you were already getting out the wash mitts and buckets. The truth was, you loved Knockout's appearance and his paintjob, and would do anything to keep it looking as shiny and clean as Knockout always kept it. Plus, he was your friend. Even so, you would often pretend to resist because if he knew how willing you were to help him, he would have you doing it every three hours.

"Three days," he corrected. "And you're my assistant, thus you help me when I need it. Plus you never seem to mind once you're doing it."

You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way down to the floor, using the makeshift human sized stairs, holding a bucket of soup and water. "I think you forgot to mention that I'm your friend," you didn't even pretend to be upset in anyway.

"I didn't think I needed to." He lifted an optic ridge slightly and gave you a look that made your face faintly warm up.

"Okay, transform now so I can actually wash you," you set down the buckets and loosely cross your arms.

He complied and you got to work. Letting the blue, soft wash mitt around your hand soak into the soupy water, your thoughts wandered to when you got it.

You were standing at the counter with a wash mitt that had soft tassels covering it, along with soup and various other objects.

"That's a lot of stuff for washing a car," the balding middle aged man in the store's uniform commented. "It's going to look like you have a furry paw with this thing on," he joked, holding up the mitt before setting it down again.

"Maybe, but it's very absorbent and has chenille microfibers, making cleaning more efficient and will not scratch like a sponge or cloth would. Plus, wearing it will make it easier to move and get the correct motion," you blurted out a fragment of what you learned while googling the best materials to make Knock look even more perfect.

The man whistled and shook his head. "Wow. That's a lot of research. You must really love your car."

You thought about it for a second and nodded with a smile, "Yes, I do."

Now, you focused on the present, wiping the mitt full of soup smoothing over Knockout's hood. It was a task you always poured yourself into, being sure to clean every part of him aside from the undercarriage. You took care and extra time on the scratched area, absent mindedly admiring the paint that was still flawless, soup suds now adorning it.

"Is that good enough?" you asked, slipping off the wet wash mitt and setting it into the bucket. Although you were fairly certain you had done well enough, you wanted his opinion. The hand mirror that was sitting nearby was picked up by you and you held it up so Knockout could observe your work.

He hummed in approval. "Not bad, but I think I'll judge after you rinse and dry me."

"Will do," you agreed. You quickly grabbed the hose. Water spouted from the nozzle poured over him, washing the bits of white soup off of him and onto the floor. Once the bits of white disappeared, you twisted the hose until no more water leaked out of it. You stared at the paint intently to make sure you didn't accidentally leave microscopic scratches when cleaning him. The result satisfied you. Without any further delay, you whipped out a towel. Not just any towel, you couldn't use a normal one for drying off a car, especially not Knockout. It was a microfiber waffle weave towel. You began blotting off the water like you always would. Wiping could result in picked up dirt and scraping it along the paint, which was the last thing you or the medic wanted.

As soon as the rest of the water was picked up, you draped the towel on your arm and said, "Finished with the washing." Your mind was already making a list of what you needed next to buff him out.

He transformed back into bot form to inspect your work while you spun around to get the rotary buffer and other supplies."Not bad. Like always." He turned his arm over to check the door with its gray pattern. "And to think I once thought a human could never do something like this."

"Well I had to learn. I can't do a mediocre job on the great Knockout," you added with a playful smile.

"Where did you learn all of this? You certainly didn't know at first."

A lot of time on the internet, you were tempted to say. And you meant A LOT of time on the internet. Instead you settled for with a shrug, "I just picked it up."

His optics caught the area where the paint was torn off from the battle and he scowled. "But now it's time to get rid of THAT."

"On it," you carried the buffer, compound bottle, and bucket of paint as best you could. "Now that it's clean, I can reapply the paint."

Since Knockout would have to face the possibility of his paint getting ripped off whenever he encountered an Autobot, he had tons of his paint, so you wouldn't have to jump through hoops to find the right color and make sure it was made out of the right material so it wouldn't react badly with the rest of the paint.

You began to mask the headlight below the area you would repaint, as to not get anything on it that wasn't supposed to be there. There was no scratches in the primer, so you didn't need to add primer. With Knockout always keeping himself in prime condition, you didn't need to remove any rust since there was none. That removed two possible steps. You applied the wax and grease remover to the gray area before using a 220 grit sandpaper to smooth out the area for the paint to stick.

While doing this, you heard Knockout grunt from the slight pain caused by the sandpaper. "Sorry, are you alright? Should I be more gentle?" you asked with concern.

"Yeah. It's just a little uncomfortable. I'll be okay, just keep on doing that," he answered as his lights flickered at his words.

You nodded. Once you were done sliding the sandpaper back and forth, you washed that spot again to remove any debris. Next was the actual painting. The can hissed from the seal being broken as you slowly and delicately opened it. After mixing it, you painted on several thin layers. While waiting for each layer to dry, you would either talk to Knockout or he would transform to get some work done if it was semi dry.

When that was done, you pulled out three pieces of sandpaper to even the new paint that stuck up a little. Starting with the 1,000 grit sandpaper to get off the majority, then moving to 2,000 and after 3,000 as you got close to the level of the rest of the paint and needed more fine sandpaper. The next step was to add top coat, which was easier then the previous step.

In other words the whole thing was a long, tedious process. You understood completely why Knockout got so irritated whenever his paint was scratched. Especially since you were the one to fix it most of the time. Plus, you knew it made Knockout upset and you wanted him to look his best.

"Okay." You wiped off your forehead with your wrist. "Now time to get to the actual buffing. Would you like to do this part?" You sincerely hoped he said yes, because no matter how much you wanted to help him, you were getting tired.

"Mmm, I think I'll let you do it," his smooth voice answered. You could tell by his voice he didn't need time to think about it at all.

Sighing, you shook your head with a smile. "Of course. I'm just glad most of the time I'm polishing you and, less frequently, washing you."

"I'm sure you want my paint to look perfect just as much as I do, considering how much effort you put in."

"Maybe," you replied, tongue in cheek.

Now you needed to cover the windows and anything you didn't want compound on. Choosing the appropriate buffing pad and compound, you got right to it. You got the soft circular piece wet and squirted the cream onto it. Slowly and carefully rubbing the spinning pad in circles, making sure you got every spot. It took little effort for you to keep the pressure constant, considering how many times you had done it. The only time you had to think about it was when you reached an edge.

It was beautiful the way it made light swirls at first and make it disappear to reveal shiny paint. You absent mindedly tuned out the whirring of the motor as your brain wandered. Mostly thinking about Knockout, his finish, and how great he looked.

When that was over, you sighed and bent over with your hands on your knees, knowing you had to rinse and wash him all over again. If it weren't for the fact that there were lots of times you had to wait a certain amount of time after a step, you would have been completely winded.

"You're doing a great job, doll," he softly encouraged. "After you wash me off again, I can dry myself."

"Really?" you looked up and smiled at his kind offer that was much appreciated.

"Yep. Although, you'll need to get the parts that are difficult to reach."

"Deal," you almost laughed and felt your smile grow and energy returning.

You practically skipped to the hose. Once you finished spraying the crystal clear water onto him, wiping suds onto him, and rinsing him off all over again, you began to walk over to the corner to relax. A sharp, cool object touched your shoulder and you turned around to see Knockout with his helm tilted.

"I believe I need something." A smirk adorned his handsome face.

You remembered the towel. "Oh." You rushed to get it and bolted back over to him.

He held out his servo for the waffle weave towel. You smiled and nearly fell into a daydream as you stared up at him and handed it to him. Your heart skipped a beat when the edge of your hand brushed against the cool metal of his servo. After a few seconds, you managed to snap yourself out of it before he noticed. You turned, paced over, and flopped into your chair.

Sitting down in the bean bag chair, you bit your lip while you admired Knockout reaching all around his frame to dry himself off. You wished that you could wash and buff him while he was in bot mode, but then you wouldn't be able to reach very far with how small you were.

The daydream and staring session only ended when Knockout tossed the towel to you. It softly hit you in the face and dropped into your lap, leaving a shocked expression on your face.

"Now it's your turn." Knockout winked and shifted back into an Aston Martin.

A low laugh vibrated in your throat, but never left your mouth. You quickly inspected him and got any spot he missed. After that was completed, you got another pad and wax. You set it on low speed and smeared and smoothed the wax onto him. It took a good amount of time, but it seemed faster with you spacing out. As a final touch, you wiped him down with a microfiber cloth to take off any extra wax that didn't need to be there.

When you were finally, completely done, he looked absolutely gorgeous. His paint was a thing of beauty. You had gotten a lot of practice at that kind of thing by being around Knockout, and it showed. You could see your reflection on him. He seemed even more attractive and shiny after transforming.

He whistled while admiring your handy work. "You're a master at this."

"Why would I give you any less except my best?" You threw your extra hand into the air as you used the other to put the rotary buffer away.

His optics looked it over another time. "This is nice. Can you do this again another time?

You let out a laugh before you could stop yourself. "No. I just did it." part of you was exhausted and never wanted to do it again, but another part was completely okay with it because, well, he was Knockout.

"C'mon, you know you love me." He set a servo on his shining hip, showing off his signature, amazing grin.

A smirk crept onto your lips. "Yes, I do."

Extended ending: "Argh!" you heard Starscream's voice from behind the door after Knockout walked out. "Your finish is so bright, it's hurting my optics! Did you make (Y/n) buff you again?!"

You gently held your hand over your mouth and giggled.

#TFP #Knockout x reader #Knock Out x reader #Knockout #Transformers Prime #tfp x reader

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otomegema · 3 years

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Title: Convergence Theory, ch. 3 summary: Transitional chapter GET. Aka, the one where reader meets Gojo's students a little more and I show off some of her powers and set up some future uh-- issues. That might effect the would-be couple. I'm just rolling with it. pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader rating: mature Ao3 Link (We are uh-- up to ch. 11 on Ao3 just fyi)

Weird did not even begin to describe the feeling that went through your chest and flipped in your stomach as you closed the door on your hotel room, bags in hand, and went downstairs to meet your new roommate in the lobby.

No.

New fiancé.

A fact Gojo was delighting in explaining to the hotel staff, animatedly conjuring from the depths of his mind some new bullshit on how you met. How he proposed. Some of the girls at the station were near puddles of envy. Others, happily told you how “lucky” you were as you handed off your keycard and checked out.

You had managed not to scowl the entire time, but just barely.

“You’re gonna have to send me a spreadsheet of all these lies just so I can keep up.” You muttered, swinging your bag into the open trunk of the car that had arrived to pick you both up. Oddly, the driver was not the same as the one from the other night. The man in question looked nervously in his rear view mirror, but also with an intense amount of curiosity.

“I already forgot um. Besides, not like we need one for the Gojo clan. They already know how we met.”

Gojo didn’t bother to get the door for you this time, sliding into the back seat without waiting for you to finish loading the car. You took your own spot, mirroring him in taking out your phone to check your latest messages. The driver would occasionally exchange looks with you in the mirror. You gave him a polite smile.

“Principal will wanna meet with you,” Gojo said abruptly, “I had my guys put in your rec already. Just let him know you want me as your mentor and when he brings me the request I’ll sign off.” Gojo didn’t even look up from his phone, “Old man will probably faint. I haven’t agreed to babysit anyone in—“

He paused, but only for a second.

“—Awhile!”

“Too busy?” You asked.

“Too much of a pain in the ass. And after, you can unpack your stuff at my place. I have a room on campus too, probably will spend the majority of my time there when I’m not on mission.”

“When we are not on mission.” You added with a smirk. Gojo sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. You enjoy this while it lasts, I’m already planning our next ‘date’ and you can bet before I’m done with planning the third one the family will demand a visit.” Gojo grinned, “When was the last time you’ve been?”

You groaned, the sound drawing a chuckle from Gojo. He knew damn well when the last time you were invited was.

“Do I get to plan any dates?”

He scoffed, “Why would you wanna?”

It was a fair point. You shrugged and turned to look out the window, admiring the view of trees and the greenery that surrounded Jujutsu Tech. Your days as a student were long over, but there was still so much protocol, so many hoops and tests and missions to jump through. If they had warned you being a sorcerer was like being a forever-student… maybe some of the others had it right. Ditching the school and the rules and wandering as independents. There was an allure to just throwing in the towel— but how would anything ever change if you just left?

You wondered if Gojo felt the same way, his personality not exactly meshing with the idea of a dutiful and obedient Jujutsu sorcerer. He was smiling lazily to himself as he typed on his phone and you found yourself content to just enjoy the silence.

The campus was not foreign to you and so you rebuffed Gojo’s offer to walk you in. Besides, if they came in together it might be too much of a tip off. There was no rule about the relation between a potential first-grade and their mentor, but given his tendency to rub the higher ups the wrong way, you didn’t want to risk any bumps. It was bad enough whoever that driver was had clearly heard you both talking. He seemed to be a staff member.

Passing through the halls though, you had the distinct feeling you were being watched— and definitely not by Gojo. If he was keeping tabs on you, you’d never know.

The cursed energy signatures were familiar, young and new, yet strong. You slid around a corner, barely flexing your Limitless to teleport around behind your spies, hiding out of sight.

“Wha— did we lose her?” The young boy with the pink hair gaped, rushing around the corner and then back, “I don’t see her!”

“Dummy, she probably heard you mouth breathing a mile away.” The girl muttered, slapping her fist into her hand with a disappointed grunt.

The other tall young man said nothing, his eyes drawn down into almost apathetic sleepiness.

“Why were we following her anyway?”

“Didnt you hear, Megumi? She is Gojo-sensei’s wife!”

“Fiancé, Yuji. Not wife.” The girl corrected.

“Fiancé, wife, girlfriend— whatever! Point is, how did we not know about her?! Who marries a guy like that anyway, she has to be crazy strong!!”

“She didn’t do so well on that last mission.” Megumi added, his voice flat. You winced slightly at his assessment. That was your cue. Shifting your energy, you appeared behind Megumi, forcing a tense, but still sufficiently bright smile unto your lips.

“That’s because my rat future-husband was busy showing off for his students!”

Megumi, to his credit, only stiffened. The other two openly shrieked at your arrival, the boy Yuji swiftly switching to an expression of awe.

“She moves like Gojo-sensei! I didn’t know she could do that!”

“Lots of people can do this… can’t believe he gets away with acting all high and mighty…” you grumbled.

You swore you heard a muffled sneeze from somewhere behind you, but your attention was suddenly wholly on Gojo’s two more animated students as they crowded into your space. Nobara Kugisaki— that was the girls name. And Itadori Yuji. The other boy you knew even before the mission was Megumi Fushiguro. Gojo’s longest running student and “ward” of a sort. Plus, he had affiliation with the Zenin. The Gojo clan liked to pretend it was as important, but even with the Six Eyes, there was no contest over which clan held the most power.

“Aren’t you a Gojo too? You have the Limitless right?” Yuji continued, smiling. This was Sukuna’s vessel? He seemed far too simple and far too sweet.

“Distantly. And yes.”

“That is so cool. You must be super strong.”

“I’m— I do okay.” You said, finding the praise a bit hard to accept. Sure in comparison to other third, fourth and even some of your fellow second-grade sorcerers you were notably talented— but how could anyone even judge such a thing when your true comparison was Gojo Satoru?

“When that curse hit ya? I thought— yikes. She is done for. But you barely had a mark on you!”

“Yeah, how did you dodge it? Oh! Can you do the thing?!” Nobara extended her hand, pressing her palm outward in what took you a minute to understand was a mimic of Gojo’s barrier technique.

You smiled faintly and lifted up your own hand. Nobara grinned as she tried to reach out and touch her fingertips to your own and she was stopped just short, hovering and wavering slightly in infinitely slowed movement.

“Neat.”

“I wanna try!” Yuji exclaimed and you happily demonstrated for the young man as well. Shockingly, you had to increase your output a little to repel him.

“I can’t have it up all the time, but it does help in a pinch.” You said and were surprised when Megumi finally spoke up.

“You make it sound like that somehow makes it less powerful.”

Had you? Your tone when talking about your abilities was always reserved. Cautious. You had no reason to gloat— no right to it. You masked your inner reflection behind a terse smile and offered your hand to Megumi.

“You wanna turn?”

The boy flushed.

“I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you going to be around campus today? Are you coming to our lesson?” Yuji asked, Nobara perking at the idea too.

“Maybe. I have to meet with the principal, but I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”

Satisfied with that, they wished you luck and departed, Nobara and Yuji falling again into animated conversation as Megumi steadily followed behind. It would be nice maybe to take part in a lesson or two… you hadn’t given the idea of teaching much thought, but just working with Gojo’s students you were starting to think you were getting the appeal of it.

Especially if you were one who loved to be adored, you thought with a scoff, wondering where Gojo had run off to if his students had been following you.

Dealing with principal Masamichi was a short affair. You accepted the recommendation news with humble gratitude and made your intention of being mentored by Gojo known. You were prepared to ignore the tension that seemed to permeate the atmosphere the moment you did so.

Masamichi simply stated he would let Yoshinobu know of the transfer. There would be no objections from Tokyo.

You could only imagine that your former principal would have something to say about all this— but he and the higher ups had done little to assist you in achieving first-grade status. Perhaps now they would realize they did not hold the keys to every door forward in their world.

Feeling strangely smug and self-satisfied, you left the office and set out to find the three students. It wasn’t difficult. Barely expanding your awareness of energy brought the familiar bright ray of Gojo into your mind. He was easy enough for you to find, you’d been doing it unwillingly all your life.

Near the outskirts of the woods that surrounded Jujutsu Tech you found Gojo shockingly studentless, sitting on the ground and playing what you could only imagine was an extremely high level of Candy Crush.

“Aren’t you suppose to be teaching?”

“I am! Kids are chasing a couple of third grade curses around the woods!”

“… and what are they learning?”

“Optimistically? How to dodge. Those things shoot out some kind of energy thing that definitely looks like it would sting.”

Gojo rapidly tapped across the screen, ending the level in record time before stashing his phone and leaning back on his palms. He tilted his head back at you with his usual smirk.

“You get your semi-grade one status?”

You nodded.

“Perfect!” He stood, brushing off his pants, “Now we can start your lesson! But first, I wanna see your baseline.”

He cracked his knuckles and then lazily stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Hit me with your strongest technique.”

“…what, like right now? Now, now?” You shouldn’t have been surprised honestly, Gojo was a loose cannon in every sense of the word.

“Now, now, babe.”

You scowled, the furrowing of your brow only seeming to make him smile brighter.

“C’mon. You won’t get me and you know it. Just hit me with your best Limitless technique.”

“My best Limitless technique is non-combative.” You said wryly, wishing you had chosen to wear slacks that day instead of a skirt. Your own uniform was a modified version of the Jujutsu Tech one from your time spent as a sort of “adjunct” instructor. This was definitely not your practice outfit.

“Is it?” Gojo asked, humming thoughtfully. Was he being purposefully obtuse? Most likely, yes.

“Show me your best combative technique.”

You knew what he was getting at. Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue. It was, without utilizing reversals, the strongest technique a Limitless user could achieve— or at least Gojo had made it so. You could do it, sure, but you were not sure on how long you’d be standing upright after you did. All your previous attempts to master the technique usually ended in you taking a sudden and unplanned nap. At best, the output was a little weaker, but sometimes you could hold unto consciousness and only be tapped for the rest of the day.

“I’ll faint.” You said quietly and Gojo lifted his hand to cup his ear, grinning.

“What was that?”

You huffed, “I’ll faint.”

“I don’t think you will.”

“I’m sorry, is this your technique or mine?”

Gojo gave a small shrug, “Obviously mine. You're just a knock-off.”

“Ya know, I activated my Limitless abilities before you.”

“I mighta heard something like that once— Now hit me.” Gojo took a few steps back, crooking his finger at you, “Come on, come one. Don’t be so boring. I have to know what your capable of it you are going to come on missions with me.”

“This is a terrible idea.” You grumbled, but swung out your shoulders, breathing out slowly to mentally prepare yourself if anything.

“Maybe! But like I said, I gotta know just how weak you are.” Gojo said, mirth in his voice— and mocking.

“I’m not weak.” You snapped out before you could real in your tongue, feeling your neck flush.

“You just said you can’t even do the base technique of our ability without fainting.” Gojo gestured his hand out as he gave another little shrug, “Kinda seems super weak to me.”

“I’m not you.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t."

Okay. Fine. He wanted you to hit him? You’d hit him. Your cursed energy had already flared up, irritation giving way to anger as you opened that channel within your memory and your emotions— focusing it until all that bitterness, all that rage was nothing more than a battery for you to use to fuel your own jujutsu.

You knew Gojo would be fine, but for a moment, you nearly faltered. Having someone ask you to basically collapse them apart with the cursed equivalent of a black hole? Not exactly a normal every day occurrence.

“C’mon! Stop thinking about hitting me and hit me! Unless you wanna renegotiate our deal… hell, maybe it would be easier for both of us if I just paid your rent instead. I don’t know how I’m gonna manage to get someone so pathetic to first-grade.”

You were going to kill him.

You were going to rip the eyes from his skull and spit them out at the dinner table of the main family, teeth and gums bloody.

“Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”

The cursed energy ripped not out from your body, but in. Focusing around Gojo as it manipulated space, dividing it down to the negative and seeking out to rend him apart. The area of effect was like a circle, but you pinpointed at his eyes regardless. Targeting what excess energy was left to his face.

The blast of blue sent clouds of dirt and grass into the air— or what was once dirt and grass. Having been nearly crushed into nothing, the debris shot around in fine powdered ash. When the air cleared, Gojo was standing where he had been before, entirely untouched.

Except for his blindfold.

One end had twisted, the fabric swirling up so tightly it was risen up against his forehead and revealing one bright, blue eye. It had gotten caught in part in the curling shrinking energy of the technique, but not enough to destroy it.

You let out a breath, stunned to find you were still standing.

“See?” Gojo said cheerfully, “Just a little motivation and you—“

The last thing you saw before everything went black was the ground suddenly rushing up to your face.

The low painful rumble of your stomach woke you, awareness of your body coming back in small waves. There was something soft tucked under your head… and your legs were elevated, knees curled around something.

You opened your eyes to the bright, unforgiving sky above and groaned loudly.

“Rise and shine, honeybun.”

His very voice made you wanna faint again just to get away from him.

“Really. Honey bun. Here, eat.”

A packaged sweet was tossed unto your stomach and you sat up enough to recognize the thing your legs were swung over was Gojo’s own lap. His phone was in one hand, the familiar blips and tones of a game audible. His other was rested on your knee, pressing down to help support your efforts to sit up.

He had taken off his jacket and put it behind your head, the white sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up around his elbows. Judging by the absence of his blindfold and the return of his sunglasses, he hadn’t been able to save the item from your rending.

You flushed, attempting to pull your legs away and recognizing with a sharp sound that he could easily have seen up your skirt at that angle. Gojo’s hand tightened on your knee, keeping you in place.

“You should let your blood settle back before you try squirmin’ so much.”

If he had looked he did not make mention of it, focus fully on his game. Your stomach grumbled again and you tore open the honey bun packet and into the soft, sweet bread in short time.

“You really did faint.” Gojo said lowly, “Not the greatest. We’ll need to start with getting your cursed energy output higher. You can call on it in a pinch, sure, but it’d be better to have an ongoing source rather than relying on me teasing you into snapping off something halfway decent.”

“Ya know, anyone else and that move would have turned them into soup.” You said, not in the habit of defending yourself, but something about Gojo making the assessment set off your nerves. Why would he compare you to a level only he could achieve? It wasn’t fair.

“I know! I mean— it was good! Don’t get me wrong. Just not good. Blowing shit up is great and all but not if it blows you up with it. Leaves you vulnerable to reprisal if the curse isn’t alone.”

You shrugged, “I guess I just always figure if I take something out with that, if there is anything left the other sorcerers will get it.”

“… so it’s a sacrificial play, for you?”

You nodded. Gojo switched off his phone and shoved your legs off his lap, standing up. He didn’t offer you any help as you wobbled unto your own two feet.

“You got some serious hang ups.” Gojo said and you couldn’t very well argue.

He tugged his blindfold from his pocket, holding up the tattered piece of fabric for your inspection— as evidence. Your eyes widened. You didn’t realize until now the full extent of the damage, the way the cloth was shredded in the center as if a wild animal had tried to claw his eyes out. You had been so focused, so preoccupied… no wonder the damage wasn’t fully resembling of the true Lapse: Blue technique.

“Here. A souvenir.”

“… sorry.” You mumbled, reaching out to take it. Gojo quickly moved, pulling the blindfold from your reach at the last moment with a chuckle. You rolled your eyes and went to take it again only for him to repeat the same trick, earning a wary smile from you as you snatched at his hand and he allowed you to take it the third time.

“I never—“ Gojo began and stopped, humming to himself as he seemed to reconsider his words.

“What?”

“Well, I was just thinking I picked the best possible choice for this charade!” Gojo began, “It may really take you the whole year to fall for me.”

You smacked him with the torn piece of fabric, earning a startled “ow” from him and the satisfaction you must have caught him off guard to get through his barrier. You seemed to be able to do that a lot. Showed what he knew letting his powers wane around you.

“In the meanwhile, there is no time like the present! Let’s go!” Gojo reached out, grabbing your arm by the elbow before you could recoil away.

“Go—”

The forest disappeared, the world refocusing in the middle of Tokyo. The sounds of birds and wind replaced with the sound of tire treads on wet pavement and the faint, constant roar of the city scape.

“—where?”

Ah— yes.

To an abandoned apartment building.

That radiated cursed energy.

Of course.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen fanfiction #fic; convergence theory

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kienava · 4 years

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~~i stayed up til 4 am and wrote beauyasha and i regret nothing~~

When the Nein return to the tower, Beau finally has a chance to read Yasha's poem.

Awkward conversation ensues in a room full of flowers.

_______

how do i wake my spirit cold? [AO3 link]

It had taken Beau a solid three reads to convince herself that this poem was actually real, not just something that her cold-snapped brain had imagined for a fleeting sense of warmth. She’d gone from staring at the words blankly to reading slowly, scrutinizing the angles of each letter, and on her seventh read she’d discovered that it was impossible to tear her eyes off the piece of parchment in her hands. This was now the eighteenth time in a row she’d scanned over these four lines, though she’d long since memorized their contents. At this point, she was less reading a poem and more gazing at a painting. Its beautiful simplicity hit all at once, like a thin blade between the ribs.

Many months ago, Beau might have guessed that Yasha’s handwriting would resemble her intimidating appearance, or maybe even her fighting style: sharp and strong, rough strokes and firm lines. Now, the slight, slanted script on the page came as no surprise, not when Beau had all but reached out and touched the soft edges hidden under layers of rage and anguish - and shawls. Yasha was big on shawls.

Eventually, Beau knew, she would have to put this piece of paper down and stop reading, but her hands and eyes had yet to consider that idea for themselves.

Her breath stayed steady despite her sparking nerves, years of practice kicking in to steady her. After she folded that piece of parchment up, what could she possibly do? Sleep? Not a gods-damned chance. The tower was safe and still, much unlike the thumping in her chest. As skilled as she’d become at controlling her lungs and diaphragm, the ability to keep her heart calm eluded her.

She knew it was a symptom of something that she’d avoided addressing for as long as possible, a creature that would longer allow itself to be pushed off and locked up. Beau had done her best to drown it alive when she’d learned why Yasha pressed her own heart between the pages of a book to desiccate along with torn petals and broken thorns. Loving dead flowers left little room to tend a new garden.

For all Beau’s attempts to do otherwise, she kept coming back to this, perennially doomed to weather the most apocalyptic storms.

In an effort to inspire some new consideration besides poetry, Beau let the paper flutter onto her desk and took to the fighting post. She’d been curious to see how adaptable the tower’s contents really were, and she’d asked Caleb for a variety of weighted staves to train with in this rendition. She grabbed the heaviest one from its mount on the wall. Maybe if she exhausted herself by whaling on the fighting post, she’d be able to fall asleep sometime in the next several hours.

As soon as she started swinging, it was clear that her plan would be fruitless. Her muscles could go on autopilot and run through routines she knew deep in her bones, and she’d built up too much stamina fighting gnolls and ghosts and undead sea monsters to tire herself to the point of genuine exhaustion.

Despite all of her mediation training, she couldn’t shut her brain off. She’d been in research mode for weeks now, mind racing constantly to piece together theories that somehow sounded less and less wild the more their group trekked on. Even while sparring with this helpless post, she exerted more effort willing herself not to sit back down at her desk and scour between the grains of the paper Yasha had given her for clarity and truth.

She made a last-ditch effort at meditating, sitting in the middle of the room with her legs crossed, counting her inhales and exhales. It was the first technique Dairon had taught her, the simplest form of breathwork. The goal was not to control or influence the breath, but to build awareness of one’s natural pace without judgment. At the time, Beau laughed at the possibility that she could go a second without judging (herself or others). But she'd changed so much since then.

She felt herself smile, recalling a conversation from what felt like ages ago.

Thank you for not judging me, Beau.

Have you seen me? Who am I to fucking judge?

I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you a lot.

Was that it? Was that the moment that the harmless flirting had developed its own sense of gravity? That Beau had suddenly found herself tongue-tied during their most superficial conversations, yet secretly hoping for even the briefest moment alone together?

Without intention, her breath had started to line up with the endearingly crooked meter of the poem repeating infinitely in her mind. She inhaled through one line, then emptied her lungs by the end of the next.

Each time she ran through that short stanza again, more questions frayed out like a string splitting endlessly. None of the answers she sought could be found in the library. She’d only need to go one floor down, not two.

All distractions exhausted, Beau considered knocking on someone else’s door instead of seeking the one stamped with lilacs, but she couldn’t come up with a good reason to do so. Veth and Caleb would be together, huddled in front of a cozy fire and having one of those intense conversations meant only for them. Caduceus usually went to sleep early anyway, and he’d eaten a whopping dinner. No way he’d still be up. Fjord had taken up his own meditation practice, and far be it from Beau to interrupt that. Jester - well, that was just a bad idea. If Beau mentioned the poem (and there was very little chance she’d be able to talk about anything else), Jester might just drag her down to Yasha’s room and throw her through right the door.

If Yasha could be brave, so could Beau. In fights, that was the very thing that pushed her to go as hard as she did. She knew that Yasha would be there to pull her out of a giant lobster claw if her risks didn’t pay off. They had each other's backs, always.

Would that still be the case when neither of them held a weapon in their hands?

Only one way to find out.

Beau opened and closed her own door as quietly as possible. Jester had some kind of sixth sense when it came to Beau’s interactions with Yasha, and Beau really didn’t want to explain anything when she wasn’t even entirely sure what was going on herself. She whispered the command word to the lift and sank slowly to the next floor down. She was careful to keep her knock quiet, though it probably wouldn’t wake Caduceus. No promises that Jester wouldn’t somehow hear it, no matter how thick Caleb claimed the walls were.

There was a long beat before Beau heard footsteps. Her stomach flipped - had she woken Yasha up? Normally she relied on some burst of brash confidence to start a conversation, and it had already taken her nearly an hour to build up the courage to step into the hallway and onto the lift. This was too different from the casual check-ins and mid-battle flirting that had happened more often in recent weeks, and Beau forgot every normal greeting she knew when the lilac-emblazoned door swung open.

She only had one thought: “Yasha.”

“Goodnight, Beau,” Yasha said. Quickly, she added, “Not goodnight like ‘goodbye, you should leave.’ Goodnight as in good morning. Like a greeting, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah. Goodnight, I guess,” Beau replied with a little wave. This was going about as badly as possible. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no, no. I was just - well, I cannot read Zemnian, but those books Caleb gave us have very nice covers.”

“Yeah, they’re cool,” Beau said. She had an opening here. Might as well take it. “Speaking of reading...”

Yasha raised her eyebrows.

Beau tried to swallow the dryness in her mouth. It didn’t work. “I checked out your poem.”

“Oh, you did?” Yasha asked.

“You sound surprised.”

“Maybe a little.”

Beau wasn’t sure where to go with that, and all she could come up with was a stilted laugh.

Yasha joined in with her own quiet chuckle. The way she bit her lip, lost in thought, made it clear that she was just as much at a loss for words.

This was a bad idea. Beau hadn’t been thinking straight, obviously, when she’d come down here with a million questions and no plan for how to ask them.

“Okay,” Beau said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “I guess I’m gonna--”

“Do you want to come in?”

Beau blinked. “What? I mean, sure. Yeah.”

Yasha stepped back from the door to open it wider, and Beau stepped inside the flower-laden room for the first time since Caleb’s magical mansion tour.

The door settled shut behind them, and they were left standing in the middle of the bright, colorful blossoms.

“So,” Yasha started. She didn’t go on.

“Nice plants,” Beau commented, nearly smacking herself across the face for it.

Fortunately, Yasha smiled at that. “Caleb really thought of everything for this place.”

Beau’s mind flashed to the mirror mounted above her bed, and for the first time in many years she had to remind herself to breathe. She was more than getting ahead of herself.

“Anyway,” Yasha said, drawing out the end of the word a little more than normal, “what brings you down to the fifth floor?”

“Ah, just got lost on my way to the kitchen, thought I’d swing by,” Beau tried.

Every time Yasha let out even a small laugh, Beau counted it as a win.

The most concrete question burning in Beau’s skull was rooted in something ugly and frightened. She asked it anyway. “So did Jester put you up to that?”

“It was her idea, yes,” Yasha admitted.

“Oh,” Beau said, not quite catching her voice from cracking.

“I shouldn’t have said that. She only helped because I asked.”

“So it was your idea?”

“Not quite. I don’t think. Not the poem thing, specifically. I told her I wanted to...do something, for you, and that is what she suggested.”

Beau fought against the urge to convince herself that those words could mean anything other than what she wanted to hear. She’d been jumping through flaming mental hoops for weeks, maybe months, trying to talk herself out of this. And then Yasha had the pleasant audacity to write her a poem.

“No one’s ever done that before. For me,” Beau reiterated. She held her hands up. “Hey, I’m no expert, but I thought it was dope.”

“No, you didn’t,” Yasha dismissed.

“No, I did.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

Yasha busied herself by stroking the petal of a nearby flower with her thumb, a small smile creeping in.

“Why’d you write it?” Beau asked.

Yasha’s fingers stilled. Her gaze stayed fixed on the flower in her hand, and her slight smile grew.

“Do you have a favorite flower, Beau?”

There was the answer Beau wanted to give, and then there was the truth. In the dense quiet, the latter won out. “Not really. Kinda wish I did. Do you?”

“I think...” Yasha gently plucked the flower from its stem. “I think they are all my favorite.”

“Really?”

Yasha nodded, cradling the flower in her palm.

It was, quite possibly, the happiest Beau had ever seen her. She suddenly wished that she knew the name of this plant, of every plant in the room. If something could bring Yasha such tranquil joy, it was worth knowing.

“The ones in this room are from all over. I’ve never even heard of some of them,” Yasha said.

“Caleb probably read about a thousand botany books just for this.”

“Probably,” Yasha laughed.

“Come on. You’ve gotta have a favorite,” Beau pushed, in the back of her mind hoping that she could use the information for future reference.

Yasha shook her head. “My book...I was keeping it for Zuala at first, but I think I am also keeping it for myself now. I want to remember the places that I’ve been and the things that happened there. Because those things have brought me here, and I am very happy about that, even if some of what happened was...not so happy. I would not be here, with all of you, without every single one of those flowers.”

She held her hand out, presenting the plucked flower. Beau stared at the five long, carefree, white petals, tinged with a sunshiny yellow at the tips. Slowly, she reached out and was surprised to find the petals were rich and soft like velvet. She couldn’t recall ever seeing it before - maybe it was from Xhorhas.

“And,” Yasha met Beau’s eyes, “finding new favorite flowers to add to my book does not mean I forget the old ones.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Beau agreed.

“This one reminds me a lot of you, actually,” Yasha said, almost whispering to herself.

Beau felt her heart skip. She’d never been given a poem before, and she’d certainly been compared to something so delicate and precious. She wracked her brain for something witty to say, but she’d never been very good at that around Yasha. “It does?” she choked out.

“It grows in the desert,” Yasha explained. “It's very stubborn and strong. We called it Sunsbane. Even with very little water, it survives the hottest days. The buds stay closed for many years, but the plant stays strong. The roots grow deeper than you’d ever guess just from looking at it above the surface. It can take a long time, but when the nights get cool enough, the flowers finally bloom.” She paused, sweeping her hair behind her ear. “You probably didn’t come here to hear so much about plants, though.”

Beau could very well have been in the desert herself at the moment - her mouth went dry again, and she felt like it was about a thousand degrees in that room.

Untrusting of her own ability to form words after that, she lifted the flower from Yasha’s hand, then reached up and tucked its short stem back where Yasha had fixed her hair.

“Hey,” Beau managed.

“Mhm?”

“You can tell me about plants anytime, alright?”

“Alright,” Yasha returned. “Okay.”

Beau retreated a step, realizing how close they’d been standing. “White’s kinda more your color, though. Plus, the yellow really...your eyes, it - works. Looks nice. Um, goodnight.”

There was a strange look on Yasha’s face, like she was thinking too hard.

“What?” Beau risked asking.

“Just that...I didn’t answer your question yet. About the poem.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s cool, honestly--”

“Beau.” Yasha said her name so softly that Beau had no choice but to stop protesting.

Yasha took the flower from behind her ear and clutched it to her chest. “You should know that I like this flower very much.”

So much of Beau’s old self - the person who’d just tried to leave again - wanted to bolt for the door, but her new self locked down and stood her ground. Inhale, exhale. “I think it likes you, too,” she said weakly.

Yasha waved her hand, still holding onto the flower. “Jester said some things, and I - well, I don’t know. I didn’t think I should hear them from someone else in case they weren’t true or--”

“They are,” Beau jumped in. “I don’t know what she said, exactly, but I can guess.”

“How do you mean?”

“Like I tried not to for a while. And then that became more impossible than it already was. Just like Sunsbane, I guess. Deep roots, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Yasha said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Not that I - I wasn’t expecting anything. You’ve surprised me in a lot of ways, is all.”

Beau couldn’t handle the guilt on Yasha’s face. It wasn’t her fault, everything that had happened to her, to them. Beau would’ve waited a thousand days in the desert if it meant letting Yasha heal and find herself.

The gap between them had shrunk again, somehow, but it was more unbearable than ever. It felt like every time they got closer by half, always lessening the space but never quite meeting. But Beau was very good at breaking things, and, for once, she could break something for good. Her palm met Yasha’s cheek, fingertips curling around a small braid hanging loosely.

“You said those flowers are pretty damn patient, right?” Beau said.

Yasha nodded almost imperceptibly, like she was afraid Beau’s hand would pull back.

“Then I think you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still.”

“Well,” with much less confidence than she’d hoped for, Beau asked, “you gonna kiss me or what?”

Yasha’s eyes closed for a moment, her expression neutral save for the slight crease between her brows and the subtle part of her lips. When her eyes opened again, her gaze was angled down slightly, plotting a trajectory that Beau had hardly dared to dream of.

“You’re sure?” Yasha said softly.

Beau’s answer was no more than a breath of a laugh.

Yasha went on. “I just want to make sure that you are sure. I’m very sure, at this point, but that doesn’t mean that you have to be--”

Beau cut her off as gently as possible.

For a moment, Beau’s mind went blissfully blank.

Then it hit her. She was kissing Yasha.

It started soft - not tentative, but quiet.

And then, miracle of miracles, Yasha was kissing her back, and she was much less patient. She was lightning and thunder striking at once, a storm raw and deafening in its power. Beau wondered when her knees would give out under the sheer weight of it - until solid arms circled around her waist and pulled her in.

Desperate to hold onto something, Beau’s fingers wound into Yasha’s hair. Her other hand was trapped just below Yasha’s collarbone, grasping tighter until blunt nails scraped past a cloth edge and found skin.

Maybe Beau did have a favorite flower, after all.

***

#beauyasha #beauyasha fic #beauyasha fluff #i haven't really written for them but i decided to fix that #my writing

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gildedmuse · 4 years

Note

Law is still Shichibukai (for some reason) and meets with the others including Mihawk for government business or something. He learns he had a relationship with Zoro during the 2 years. Even though Law is in a relationship with him now Mihawk & Zoro never really ended theirs officially so Law gets jealous and competative

Right, I have to pass out. But here is part one of three of this magical tale.

Oh thank God someone else has thought of this because I think about this SO MUCH. Like, "what are you even doing with your life?" / "Oh, you know, mostly trying to set up a Mihawk/Zoro/Law love triangle." / "..... Just WHY?"

Because it'd be super hot that's why.

One dude whose super possessive, one who hates losing and one who's totally obvious to all that shit. are you kidding me? That was made for fanfic glory.

I don't know if I can do such a delicious thing justice in a "let's see if I remember how words work" post, but damn right I'll try it.

It's 2020. The world needs this you guys. And hopefully it inspires others to look deep within themselves and realize the Mihawk/Zoro/Law triangle was inside them all along.

To War Over You

"Why do I have to be here again? No offense, Torao, this whole thing sounds boring as hell."

Law closes his eyes and draws a deep breath; the best way to deal with any of the Strawhat crew if you didn't want it to end in bloodshed and a broken alliance. "Did you not understand the first three times I went over the situation, Zoro-ya? I don't know if I can explain it in any simpler terms without resorting to coloring books and grade school lessons."

It may have been a little snippy, but for as confidently as he struts down the hallways of the naval base just those side of Marie Joice, Law could never get use to having marines on either side, standing at every doorway, eyeing him suspiciously as they walk past him in the halls. He'd seen what these men would do given the orders or the chance, so despite how well he could hide behind a haughty mask and arrogant demeanor, Law can't help feeling once more like a frightened child on the run from these very same men.

He had fully expected to have to lead Zoro through the whole parade, tell him not to jump at the sight of every uniform (as is still, deep down, Law's immediately response) but the other swordsman comes off as almost entirely unaffected. He makes eye contact with passing marines as if daring them to question his presence or better yet try something. He doesn't even have a hand on his sword, a sure sign of the boy's nervousness. He walks next to Law, appearing utterly calm and unafraid and, well, bored.

It's giving Law a headache to be honest. Could one if the Strawhats even pretend to behave like normal pirates?

When Zoro's shoulder bumps against Law's he wonders, fleetingly, if this this is the part where Zoro finally admits how paranoid this whole scene leaves him.

They walk past a pair of marines like that, Zoro leaning into his shoulder practically hanging off Law, and neither men blinks an eye. In fact, they make a point of not even glancing up at the passing pirates, their conversation going quiet and their eyes locked to the floor until they've past. That's been the case more and more this visit; a complete change from the first time Law had been invited where even privates and ensigns felt confident enough to give him bad looks, expressions that clearly asked what one of his kind was doing there.

Zoro also waits until the heavy steps of the two marines are mostly out of earshot before he leans, somehow, even closer. Until Law can feel the boy's hot mouth up against his skin, heating the metal hoops in his ear. "I'm so sorry oh powerful warlord," Zoro teases because, since it really occured to him that Law is a Shichibukai - and apparently one the government is desperate to keep on their side - he couldn't seem to stop himself from mocking the title. If it were any other pirate, Law could have chopped them into parts and been done with it, but for whatever reason he allows the vice captain of the straw hats to get away with such insults. "I must have been distracted at the time."

Ah, yes. That's why.

Law ducks his head, as if attempting to hide a smirk as they go by another three marines - ensigns based on their uniforms and the way their eyes go wide before they scurry past. Ah, well, at worst they'll think he's planning something big, something illegal (which he is, though not for a while) though more than likely they'll just think that's how pirates are. Cocky and unafraid.

Law doesn't mind the reputation.

Of course, if they knew the real reason Trafalgar Law, pirate captain, worst generation, and Shichibukai looked so damn smug they probably would have hurried by all the faster.

Is it his fault that there is something so pleasing about taking a man with the reputation of Roronoa Zoro and having him on his knees and begging? Law can't help the spark of pride knowing that while most others couldn't even halt Zoro's steps were he determined to get by, Law could leave him sprawled out, exhausted, panting on the bed after being made to come a fourth time and yet in two hours he'd crawl into Law's lap, needy and impatient and wanting anything the older pirate would give him.

It's enough to make any man a little conceited. After all, how many can say they've reduced the pirate hunter to such a desperate state?

Law has every right to feel proud.

Still nearly climbing on top of Law even as they walked, Zoro takes the other man's ear in his mouth, tongue first warming the metal and then teeth pulling at the earrings. Law really should make him stop; they must have all sorts of surveillance inside the base. But he just can't find it in him to do more than find the most obvious of the recording snails stuck to the walls, offering it and whoever is lucky enough to be watching a cocky smile.

And because Zoro, like the most crew, doesn't seem to understand the idea of subtle, he follows the bite up with, "I guess having you fuck my mouth interests me more than some political bullshit. Hard paying attention to all this useless junk when your buried that deep in my throat."

It's not romantic. It's hardly even sexy. And yet even as Zoro slides back into his own space, Law can feel something in his gut start to tighten, to want. It had been such a mistake to bring the swordsman along, he should have known better.

Only he'd received a hint from a certain high ranking, unnamed inspector general that the navy knew he was harbouring at least some of the Straw hats on his ship (However did they find that out, Zoro-ya? Maybe if you didn't insist on fighting every battle ship you saw). He would still be expected to attend the meeting, of course, but if he did show up they would certainly search his ship for the pirates and, failing that, likely charge him all the same. Especially after they couldn't use the Doflamigo incident against him, in part thanks to Issho's very live, very unscripted broadcast.

It seemed obviously to Law that their best option is to claim these straw hats had made the decision to work under him (some more literally than others) which only left the matter of which one to bring, to show Law isn't afraid of their suspicious.

Robin could lie very well and would have easily been the best choice, except she was just as likely to stand in front of some of the top ranked marines and inform them that, in fact, she is still and will always be a Strawhat. And she'd say it with a smile. Franky... Well, no. Franky wouldn't last two minutes into an interrogation. Usopp could lie, but there's a chance he'd over do it, or simple break down at the sight of so many marines.

No, Zoro had been his best choice, which is a condemnation of his chooses really. He's just hoping the vice captain will be able to clentch his teeth and get through it.

As added incentive, Law made plenty of promises.... And threats. Depending, of course, on Zoro's ability to behave.

"What's the point of even calling you out here?" Zoro asks in an entirely casual tone, as if he hadn't just described sucking Law off. "Not like the government acts wants your opinion on anything."

Law has to admit Zoro's right, but after the near catastrophe at Dressrosa, Law is trying to play ball. If they haven't expelled him yet it's because they need something from him, and Law is determined to find out what. "Just do as I tell you and don't make a scene," Law says, knowing those two instructions are impossible for any strawhat to follow, perhaps especially this one. "So long as you don't-"

Suddenly, Law is no longer looking at Zoro but at the plain walls of the military base. Confused, he looks back to see Zoro has come to a stop in the middle of the hall. There is a dangerous grin pulling at his lips, one that Law would definitely be afraid of of he hadn't seen it so many times right before Zoro swallowed him whole. Now it just makes him lose his breath a little too fast, the heat in his gut pours through the rest of him, becoming something he can't control.

Expect Zoro isn't looking his way at all.

"Hawkeye," Zoro says simply, and while his voice is harsh his expression certainly isn't. "I forgot they still recognize you as a Shichibukai. When I defeat you then, do I get that title as well?"

Law jerks to look back so abruptly he feels a little sick, but sure enough there he is; fellow Shichibukai and world's greatest swordsman. A title that Law knows Zoro coverts, perhaps explaining the gleam in his eyes as he stares down the other swordsman. Though Law would have expected it to hold more.... Hostility. Instead, despite the seriousness of his tone and the challenge in his eyes, Zoro's lips keep twitching, unable to completely hide the a smile.

He's probably just happy to get this chance at a rematch. Not that Law is about to let that happen in the middle of a marine base. Zoro may be less than cautious and driven by his heart rather than solid reason, but he isn't that crazy.

.... Is he?

"Roronoa," Mihawk greets him formally and, again, his voice even and devoid of humour, and yet the older Shichibukai does nothing to hide his smile. "How strange to see the rabbit has wandered so far from its burrow."

Zoro wrinkles his nose before deciding to go for something slight more intimidating. "I told you not to call me that." He might try and pass it off as a growl, but honestly he sounds like a pouting child. It's cute, in a way.

In the way that it would have been cute, if it had been for Law.

Mihawk's smirk grows more amused, more cocky at Zoro's reply. "I seem to recall you didn't mind at times." Mihawk's long strides eat up the room between him and Zoro in a matter of seconds, and before Law even thought to be on guard the older man is leaning down, whispering something for only Zoro to hear.

Law may not know what exactly is said, but he recognizes the flush in the other boy's cheeks, the way his eyes go wide before falling half closed as he rocks, almost consciously, up onto his toes and closer to the one teasing him.

It's a state he's enjoyed putting the swordsman in in the past, one he's never had to witness as a third party.

When Mihawk has finished, Zoro is just a touch too pink and too breathless for Law's comfort. But it's the smirk on the older swordsman's lips when he pulls away that makes Law clench his fist and bite doesn't hard. If they weren't at this base, he's fairly certain nothing, not even his intelligence or will to survive, could stop him from casting a room and cutting Mihawk's heart out. At the least.

It's only after Mihawk has had his fun with Zoro that he looks up, his sharp golden eyes falling on Law. Law can only remember one other time the master swordsman has graced him with so much as a vague consideration; when he'd first arrived here, a newly appointed warlord. Mihawk had merely regarded him with nothing more than a passing glance before declaring he had more important things to attend to and making a swift, unapologetic exit.

Now, though, his eyes seem to study Law like he's preforming a dissection, seeing parts of him that Law would have thought impossible to see.

"Trafalgar," Mihawk uses the same even tone as he had with Zoro, only lacking in any signs of warmth as he had with Zoro. "I see you decided to join us after all." Before Law can point out that he could hardly deny the summon he had been sent, Mihawk's eyes are back on Zoro. "Am I to believe the rumours of you abandoning your captain are true then, Roronoa?"

Before Zoro can ruin their cover (Law can see it in his face and feel the aura around him, this refusal to deny his captain) Law is quick to leap in. "Zoro-ya is under me now, if that is what you're asking," Law snaps, perhaps with more bite than is necessary. And if his words can be taken more than one way, well, that's really up to the listener to decide. "Otherwise, why would I entrust him to accompany me to this summit?"

#ask and you shall receive #the zolaw au nobody asked for #zoro x law #zoro x mihawk #one piece #one piece au #one piece fanfiction #mizo #zolaw

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katchihe · 3 years

Text

Taking a break from drawing to...write? Yeah! I've actually missed writing after so long. Not to mention I need the practice for a competition image lol

Featuring Corsen (Pokemon GO oc) with her team on hand Shiho (shiny Horsea), Titan (Arcanine), Sleepy (Snorlax), and Mint (Glaceon). But I can't go on further without saying that it also features some nerd we all came to love and hate. And his Salamence who just no.

I think it does get pretty long but I tried getting into the good parts haha. There is definitely a part 2 and I might post it soon, but in the meantime enjoy!

If anything needed fixing today it was certainly Corsen's jaw. The trainer couldn't keep her mouth shut since passing by the wooden doors of the museum. Left and right, up and down, everywhere she looked there was something exciting to see.

"This is amazing!" Corsen squealed. Slapping her hands to her cheeks smiling widely. The museum was full on packed with trainers and their Pokémon. Thankfully there was a limit to the sizes of Pokémon so nothing could be broken in such a priceless museum.

From statues, to the first planes, to the first achievements, to the first texts of ancient civilizations, everything could be found here. Corsen hadn't even spent 30 minutes inside and her phone was about to burst with all the videos and pictures she had already taken.

"Hey Shiho look!" Shiho looked towards where his trainer pointed at. The fossil exhibition. Since she was young, she had always had a fascination for fossils. Even staying up super late at night to read all the theories and encyclopedias of each extinct fossil Pokémon.

"Let's go there first and then how about we go get some lunch?"

Shiho wiggled contently in his carrier in agreement, just by feeling his trainer's energy he too felt excited. At this Corsen wasted no more time and went into the exhibition.

Once again Corsen's mouth couldn't stay shut at the sights.

"Is that an Aurorus?!" The brunette gasped looking up at the elongated neck of the extinct Pokémon. The wings of the skeleton flapped in the superficial wind, to only think of how it would've been to have such a Pokémon be alive today.

"Wait until Blanche sees this! Now should I take a video or photo?" Corsen pondered opening up the camera on her phone. Crouching down the brunette faced her camera up, hoping to get a cool sideways shot, but to her dismay it only focused on the fossils' chest area.

"A little back." Corsen muttered taking a couple of steps back.

Nope.

"Maybe a little more?"

Nope.

"Ugh!"

Getting up in her annoyance Corsen walked back focusing too much on the screen of her phone. It wasn't until she felt her back hit something hard, and the sound of a book dropping, that she finally shifted her attention.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!"

Back turned the stranger slowly bent down to pick up his book.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't see you!" Corsen apologized staying frozen in place. At the suffocating silence she bit her lip not knowing what else to say. She felt Shiho shift in his carrier staying silent as well.

After forever came to an end, the stranger finally spoke.

"Watch where you're going, pest." The man turned his head to glare at the brunette. Obvious anger, and disdain in his eyes. Funny how red is often associated with anger as his eyes were the full definition of it.

The stranger spoke no more and began to walk away without giving Corsen a second glance.

Corsen huffed exhaling a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Now the frozen air feeling vanished and she was free of its spell. Anger started to creep through.

"I said SORRY!" Corsen growled spreading her arms out in protest.

Shiho huffed alongside his trainer glaring at the back of the man.

"Whatever." Corsen rolled her eyes and turned back around to enjoy the museum. She wasn't about to let some insignificant incident ruin her day.

In a second her eye caught something interesting and her mind quickly forgot about the sour experience.

The sight was a golden hoop behind glass up against the near wall.

With peeked interest the trainer approached the compartment and looked up in awe. The hoop looked a bit rusty, yet it shone so brightly of gold in the evening sun that broke in through the high window.

"It is said this hoop once belonged to the mysterious Pokémon known as 'Hoopa'." Corsen read the metallic plate which stood in front of the display. "Legend says this Pokémon was first seen around 1,700 years ago. Hoopa would transport both objects and Pokémon through its many hoops. Those legends have never been proven true, but this hoop was found near Varanasi, India where the legend of this mythical Pokémon first began."

"Huh well that's quite interesting." Corsen looked back up to the hoop. It looked so normal for it to belong to Hoopa. If that was even true.

She had read many stories and theories about the mischievous Pokémon. Also seen those videos that claimed to have caught the Pokémon on camera, but none of them were true.

Much like Mew, those were just theories and made-up stories from the older civilizations of the past.

Walking down to the other section of the glass display Corsen then spotted a fossil. Squinting her eyes she tried to decipher the shape of it.

Shiho called to his trainer to look down on the plate.

"Aerodactyl. A Pokémon which became extinct around 150 million years ago. It lived in the prehistoric era where it reigned top predator. Being able to rip prey with its strong jaws, and fly as high as 250 meters up in the air with its strong wings, there was nothing that could possibly have stopped this Pokémon." Corsen read the metallic plate then looked up to the fossil once more. She still couldn't figure out the shape of it despite the massive size.

"Well still looks interesting." The trainer brought her camera up and snapped a photo of both the Aerodactyl fossil and the hoop.

"Maybe I can even make my own theories of these two." She laughed and began to walk away.

----

Later in the evening, Corsen sat at a café trying to mellow down from the long day.

She was immensely thankful to Blanche for having given her this opportunity, but was still a bit skeptical as to why they had decided to bless her with such a gift.

Corsen didn't want to pay no mind to it however, she continuously told herself it was something genuine that had come from Blanche's deepest part of their heart. Or something cheesy like that.

"Oh my baby is tired isn't he?" Ebony eyes dropped to Shiho who's head now lay limp against his trainer.

The Horsea slept peacefully giving no mind to his trainer as she caressed his cheek.

"But you're right it has been a long day." Corsen brought out Shiho's Pokéball and recalled the water-type. Taking off the carrier Corsen stretched her arms back with a yawn.

"I guess it's time to go hit the hay too." Getting up from her seat Corsen looked at her watch. 11:27PM. The hotel wasn't that far away, she could bring out Titan for a ride to get there much quicker, but the trainer decided against it last minute.

The night breeze felt quite nice and refreshing for a walk. After paying her bill and tipping her waiter she began the walk back to the hotel with the GPS in hand.

There was rarely anyone in the streets. Cars began to appear less and less the further she walked. It was such a somber ambient, one that started to cause Corsen both concern and worry.

It was the weekend and it wasn't so late in the night to not have both trainers and Pokémon out enjoying the night.

Corsen tried ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut and focused instead on walking.

"But what if a big scary shadow jumped out of nowhere?" Her mind began to wonder.

The trainer shook her head vigorously in return. She had Titan, Sleepy, and Mint in hand that were more than capable of holding themselves against anyone.

"Oh but what if something is behind you?"

Once again Corsen shook her head trying to rid her mind of such childish thoughts. Turning around she saw no one except her own shadow.

"I'm just delusional." Corsen muttered rolling her eyes in annoyance, but stopped mid turn when smoke caught her eye. It was up high and it looked like a fire a couple of blocks down the street.

The nagging feeling seemed to increase at the sight. Observing the buildings it looked to have been in the direction of the museum.

"That's odd..." Corsen placed her phone in the pocket of her jacket and began walking towards the direction of the fire.

The closer she got the faster her pace until she was on a full out run.

Turning the corner Corsen stopped abruptly in her tracks. Smoke and flames decorated the entrance to the Smithsonian. Eyes widened in horror at the sight.

Corsen started running once again towards the building but stopped once more when she spotted a cargo truck at the distance.

Two men carried a rather big piece of flat rock hosting it up in the back. Once the rock was secure they jumped in the back and closed the doors.

"A robbery?" Corsen furrowed her brows reaching into her backpack. Why weren't the alarms ringing? Where were the police? Where was anyone?

Bringing out a Pokéball she faced it towards the street. Through a beam of red light came out an Arcanine who looked at his trainer ready for action.

"Titan, I need your full speed right now." Corsen said jumping on the Pokémon's back. Titan nodded in reply lifting his body back up from the ground once his trainer was positioned.

With one final glance at the burning entrance Corsen and Titan began following the truck through the streets.

It only took seconds to reach the vehicle. Corsen held tightly onto Titan's mane as he ran at full speed through the streets. Despite his size he was an expert at agility, easily dodging parked cars and turning corners with ease.

"Titan! Scratch the back tire!" Corsen called as loud as she could through the wind. Gaining a bit more speed the Arcanine took one calculated swipe at the tire and it immediately blew out.

The rim screeched and sparked on the pavement before the truck fell on its weight and lost control. It ended up skidding to a stop and crashed onto its side.

"Steady." Corsen halted Titan who breathed heavily, ready for combat.

Out of the truck emerged three men who looked both bruised and confused. In their attire, a bright R decorated their chests. "Team Rocket?" Corsen felt a cold air hit despite the warm aura of her Arcanine.

Once they spotted the trainer and the Arcanine they called forth their own Pokémon. Dratini, Golbat, and Ivysaur. Their eyes shone red in the dim lights of the streets, at this the brunette furrowed her brows in confusion.

There was something off about those Pokémon, but Corsen wasn't about to sit around and figure it out.

Jumping off Titan's back the trainer readied herself as well.

"Titan, flame charge."

It was over as soon as it began. The three opposing foes dropped unconscious as well as their following companions. The rocket grunts recalled their fainted Pokémon and seeing as they were out of Pokémon to battle with, they began to retrieve.

"Wait until boss gets here. You'll regret this." One of them said before taking off at a run.

Titan growled loudly stomping the ground.

"No." Corsen placed a hand on Titan's chest stopping him from running after the man.

"Let them go, we have more important matters at hand." Corsen said approaching the fallen vehicle. She began to unhitch the back door letting it swing open before it hit the ground.

It was dark inside but she could barely make out the silhouette of the fossil rock. Bringing out a flashlight the trainer looked in relief and shock upon the Aerodactyl fossil. It was miraculously intact, except for some pieces of rubble that had fallen off the edges.

Jumping inside the truck Corsen ran a hand across the fossil. No cracks. Good. But why were they taking this specific thing out of all the objects in the museum? She was sure there were far more valuable objects in there than a piece of rock.

Suddenly her foot hit something metallic that swung across the floor. Directing her flashlight towards that direction Corsen spotted a ring. The Hoopa ring.

"What the hell?" Corsen stepped carefully around the fossil towards the ring.

Titan stood at the entrance of the truck, attentive to his trainer.

Grabbing a hold of the ring Corsen brought it up to the light.

Titan growled showing his fangs, partially scaring his trainer in the process.

"It's just a ring calm down." Corsen shushed the Arcanine looking at him while she placed her index finger to her lips. She had to admit she was still a bit jumpy from the events, adrenaline was running high.

Looking back down to the ring, Corsen turned it in her hand. Still looked as normal as when it was in its glass confinement.

"I could possibly keep this safe in my jacket." Corsen shakily opened the breast pocket of her jacket. It wasn't every day you had something so old and so valuable on your person. As for the fossil, Corsen frowned. She could possibly carry it back to the museum with Titan, but what if it fell and broke into a million pieces?

Another growl rumbled through the truck causing the trainer to break from her train of thought.

"Titan-" Corsen looked up ready to calm the dog but stopped. He wasn't looking at her.

A cold wave rushed through the brunettes body. Turning off the flashlight she began walking towards the entrance of the truck.

Without warning Titan let out a massive roar and launched forward and out sight from Corsen.

"Titan!" Corsen called rushing out of the truck and jumped out.

Titan swiftly outmaneuvered a Salamence on the ground. The massive dragon Pokémon looked wild in its eyes as it tried to swing at Titan any way possible.

In a second of distraction Titan yelped as the Salamence managed to land a hit. The Arcanine skidded back shaking his body. Crouching down with a growl he got ready to attack once again.

"Titan, are you alright?" the trainer called. Titan's attention suddenly shifted and so did Corsens'.

"Stop wasting so much time." A male voice said approaching the trio.

He looked to be of average height. In the darkness his hair looked pitch black, his attire had the same red R as the grunts.

Team Rocket. Again.

The man stopped next to the Salamence. He didn't bother looking at Corsen, his attention focused on the Arcanine who looked ready to tear him apart.

"Pathetic. You can't even finish such a weak Pokémon."

"Hey! Who the hell are you calling weak?" Corsen yelled feeling a rush of anger. She would personally get physical at anyone who had the audacity to insult her Pokémon, didn't matter who it was. She had even gotten physical with Candela's right-hand trainer, then again that mouth of his never shut.

The man glanced at the brunette, disgust in his eyes.

Despite the anger slowly clouding her mind, Corsen couldn't help but tilt her head a bit. She had seen similar eyes before, but where?

"Tch...how dare rifraff such as yourself speak to me?"

"What?" Corsen blinked. The anger taking over once again. "Oh so you think you're above me? Do something about it!"

Corsen lifted her hand and Titan flared his fangs.

"Only a fool would challenge me." The man gave a simple nod and the Salamence launched forward.

"Titan, bite!"

Titan jumped up in the air, the Salamence barely missed him by inches. Landing on the dragon's back the Arcanine dug his claws into the hard flesh before biting the back of Salamence's neck.

The dragon-type roared out in pain. It tried shaking off the Arcanine to no avail. Spreading its giant wings the Salamence flew up in the air like a missile.

Corsen rubbed some dust out of her eyes from the sudden wind. Looking up she spotted the Salamence flying in circles at high speed.

Soon Titan lost his grip and slid off the dragon's back. At this the Salamence turned and landed a massive hit with its tail on Titan causing him to come crashing down on the ground.

"Titan!"

Heart pounded fast. Corsen almost became deaf to her own beating heart. Her rival seemed unfazed by the battle, he stood starring off into the distance as if this was just child's play.

"Think, think!" Corsen grit her teeth together in thought.

Titan soon stood back up, a bit shaky. He growled towards the Salamence who landed heavily. Both Pokémon flared their teeth at each other.

"Titan!" Corsen called towards her Arcanine. He glanced at her for a brief second. The brunette gave a simple nod and he understood immediately.

Standing up straight the Arcanine's eyes began to glow a bright orange, light emitted from the dog's paws as flames began escaping through his teeth.

With a massive howl a ring of fire appeared around the Salamence who didn't move by the sudden display of flames.

3 pillars of fire erupted from the ground and began to circle the dragon. With a giant flash the pillars crashed onto each other and enveloped the dragon within them.

The fire was soon out and now smoke stood in its place.

This had to be it. There was no one before who managed to stay standing after a direct hit from Titan's Blast Burn.

The smoke slowly dispersed and there stood the Salamence, unperturbed.

It shook its body getting rid of the ashes before spreading its wings with a growl.

"There's no way..." Corsen's eyes widened, Titan mimicked his trainer's expression.

Without warning the Salamence flew forward and swiped at Titan who went flying across the street. Hitting a parked car the Arcanine fell unconscious to the ground.

At that moment Corsen felt frozen, unable to move. How the hell did the Salamence survive such a direct hit from Titan?

Quickly focusing back to the battle at hand, Corsen called out Sleepy the Snorlax.

If Salamence had such a high defense then Sleepy was sure to lower it quickly. After all tank vs tank always did the trick.

To her dismay the battle ended the same way.

In the eyes of the experts, Sleepy was a perfect specimen. Perfect attack power, perfect defense, and perfect stamina. But all of that didn't matter when he too landed on the ground unconscious after a couple of direct hits.

Corsen grit her teeth together, gut churned causing her nausea. She wiped the sweat off her forehead, thoughts racing a mile a minute.

"Alright then. Let's see how you go up against this!" Corsen took out her last Pokéball looking at the Salamence. She knew Shiho stood no chance against such an evolved and trained Pokémon as the Salamence, but she still had an ace up her sleeve.

Through a beam of red light appeared a Glaceon. At the sight Salamence looked to have smiled at the small ice-type.

"You're super weak towards ice attacks aren't you?" Corsen smirked, assured about her victory.

Salamence flew towards the Glaceon who evaded the first attack with ease.

"Mint! Icy Wind!" Corsen called towards the Glaceon. Landing gracefully the ice-type called a chant, the icy diamond on its head glowed in the dark and out of nowhere came a rush of cold wind.

Salamence growled at the feeling of the freezing wind. Flapping its wings it flew up high trying to dust the diamond flakes from its body. Opening its jaw it directed a powerful Hyper Beam down at Mint who barely missed it by jumping to the side. A crater now stood where Mint had once been standing.

Corsen's stomach gave another sickening churn. She had to end this quickly before Mint got seriously hurt. Looking at her opponent she wondered if he had any more Pokémon on his person, and if Mint would be able to uphold himself against them all.

The Salamence still flew up high in the air. Biting her lip in thought the trainer looked down at her Glaceon. He had to get close for this finishing move, and one that would be most effective to the dragon.

She knew she had a couple more minutes before the Salamence was able to use Hyper Beam again. Would she wait for it to come down, or would be bring Glaceon up?

"Mint." Corsen looked up at the Salamence in the air. Glaceon followed suit. "I need you to get close to the Salamence, if possible jump on its back."

Glaceon nodded in reply and began running towards a nearby tree. Jumping onto its branches the Glaceon launched up close to the Salamence. Corsen had always been impressed with Mint's agility. It was something he had always displayed, even as an Eevee back in the day.

"Icy wind!" Corsen called before Mint brought forth another gust of cold wind. This one was far nearer than the last, it even cause the Salamence to lose altitude in the process. At this, the Glaceon managed to land on the dragon's back successfully.

"Perfect," Corsen smirked clenching her fist.

"Mint! Finish it with Avalanche!" Glaceon began yet another chant as a cloud began forming above the two in the air. It didn't take long before snow started falling from the cloud followed by chunks of ice.

Jumping back down to the ground Mint managed to miss the avalanche; just in time as it enveloped the dragon causing it to fall back down to the ground with a roar.

Silence befell the street afterwards.

Corsen couldn't help but smile at her victory. Salamence was immensely weak to ice-type moves and Avalanche had been a direct hit to it, now there was no possible way of it to get back up.

Shifting her attention from the pile of ice, Corsen looked towards the Salamence's trainer. He was looking at where his Salamence lay buried. The brunette saw his chest heave in a slow sigh before turning his attention to her. In the dim light she saw the corner of his mouth lift up in a smirk.

Without warning a flash of red passed the trainer, followed by a cry of pain from her Glaceon. Corsen turned in time to see Mint land heavily on the other side of the street. Trying to stand back up from the hit, Mint couldn't lift his body and fell limp on the ground.

The Salamence roared in victory as it spread its massive wings in a big display.

Corsen's breath hitched in her throat. Her legs shook until they finally gave out under her.

"This is impossible..." she stared wide-eyed at the ground clenching her hands to fists. Her entire body shook, primarily in disbelief, but there was also a sense of fear deep inside.

"Don't be too disappointed. It was always going to end like this." The man finally spoke walking closer to Corsen.

The brunette looked up at him through the bangs that covered her eyes. Rage filled the endless pits of her black eyes.

She didn't know from where, but Corsen soon found the strength to stand back up. Standing in front of the fossil rock she blocked the entrance.

The man stopped, glaring at the brunette.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want with the fossil rock?" Corsen asked glaring at the man. He didn't get a chance to answer before the Salamence landed in front of the brunette.

It towered over the trainer casting an immense shadow over her. A breath caught in Corsen's chest as the Salamence inched closer, it growled showing its teeth at her. Being so close to the Pokémon she saw its glowing red eyes. She always knew dragon-types were prideful and dangerous Pokémon, but this Slamance was on another level.

Corsen didn't remember how she ended up on the ground seconds after. Perhaps it was the immense fear she had felt from starring at the dragon inches from her face, or perhaps it was the lack of air from the too-heavy of an atmosphere around them. She tried moving but her body felt too heavy; only managing to look up at the Salamence's trainer she saw his red eyes glare down at her. In that second it hit her.

The man from the museum. The one she had accidentally hit.

Corsen grunted trying to fight her own body to stand, but it was no use. Her world slowly faded until it was all black.

#Pokemon #Pokemon GO #Pokemon GO oc #Leader Arlo #fanfic #fanfiction #Trainer Corsen #wow I havent written in like 3 years LOL #I think little miss Corsen passed out from fear #cause breh I would too no cap #Katchihe Writes

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