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prorevenge · 4 years

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Mock my mother’s death? I bankrupt you.

So this could be a very, very long story. I’ll try to summarize where and when I can.

My now ex-wife Kate and I moved to an apartment in 2010. The house as a whole a renovated town house split between two sides with two apartments on the bottom and two apartments upstairs. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the apartment as it was a much older building that I had ever lived in but I quickly adjusted to the wood creaking throughout the night. On the initial walkthrough we noticed that the only problem was that there was a dip in the bathroom ceiling. The landlord, Jay, promised he would get fixed ASAP.

One year to the day when we moved in there was a loud crash at 4AM. The bathroom ceiling had collapsed and there was tiling and wood all over over the floor and in the bathtub. Now Kate was typically the aggressive one, while I was more passive and laid back, and she kept calling Jay throughout the day. When she got in touch with him at around 9PM she explained what happened and insisted that it be fixed immediately. He rebuffed with him yelling that his girlfriend was a lawyer and he didn’t need to do anything. Now this is where I got mad. I went outside and called him myself. I feigned a relaxed demeanor and at first he began trying to talk to me as a “bro” and kept saying “Dude, I’m gonna get someone out there but it’s gonna take a few weeks..” When he couldn’t sway me that way he began yelling about his girlfriend and her knowing the law. What he was unaware of was that I had read the tenant laws in my state and so as he tried to lie I waited until he was finished and I recited the law stating that, if an apartment was considered uninhabitable then the landlord needed to pay for the tenant to stay in a place until it was resolved. He tried to say that our upstairs neighbor Phil was the super but he wasn’t sure if he could get down there that night. He put me on hold, then came back a few minutes later and said that Phil and his girlfriend were out of state. I rang Phils doorbell and asked, with the Jay on speakerphone, if he was assigned as the super. He laughed and said “No.” Dejected, he said he would have people out there the next day (previously he said they were busy for at least three weeks). There’s more to this incident but it lead to two conclusions:

If you’re going to lie then there has to be a consistency in your lie AND make sure that the people you lie to DON’T communicate with each other.

This is where a feud started between me and my Kate versus him and his mother (she was the original landlord and gave the house to him so he could begin to profit.)

So forward to a year later. Jay stopped coming to the house and his mom began doing the pick-ups. Around this time my ex- and I had been laid off and we were working with social security for food, health, and housing insurance. We were approved for all three in April but we would not get the check until May. When our typical check wasn’t in the landlord’s mailbox he immediately gave a summons saying that he was taking us to court for eviction. The day we went to court he had no lawyer and, going before the judge, here’s the summation:

Judge: Does the defense have a means to pay within 90 days of non-payment? Us: Yes judge (hands over paperwork showing that he will be paid for April and May) Judge: I see no problem. They are breaking no laws. Why are we here? Jay: Well your honor, they have been bullying- Judge: I don’t care, unless they are breaking a law then this case is dismissed.

Suffice it to say Jay and his mother’s were NOT happy. Around this time in my life things were tumultuous. My mother, who had been battling lung cancer succumbed to it in June . This happened at roughly the same time his mom came knocking looking for payment. I explained that I would leave it in the mailbox when we got back from the funeral home and to please just respect my right to mourn. She took her fingers and began rubbing them together, pretending to play the smallest violin.

I will never forget what she said next “Oooh, my mommy just died. Woe is me. She probably had it coming. I don’t care if your entire family is dead. I want my money.” She smiled smugly, proud with what she had just said. I saw red and my heart jumped into my throat. I went, grabbed the check, and handed it to her in absolute shock that anyone would say something so...fucked up? She had finally managed to push a button that very few people I’ve known throughout my life have seen. I went into rage mode but not in the way you would expect.

THE REVENGE: We were always told that if a health inspector came by to not open the door. I waited until Aug. since that was when the lease was going to run out and we knew they would not extend a renewal. I walked up the block to town hall to ask for a health inspection of our property. It was scheduled for several days later. Now it’s important to know several things:

I was friends with all of the tenants. Phil had moved out with his fiancé but the new tenant was Dani upstairs in our side. Tom and Hana on the other side of the downstairs floor had moved out and Jay was still looking for new tenants. The only one who wanted to stay out of this was Rose on the upper right apartment.

I had gotten a key so I could let the inspector in Dani’s apartment and I knew that I could use the back staircase on the right side to let him in on Tom’s, now vacant apartment.

I also knew that Dani was moving out in September along with Kate and myself.

The inspector came and it was glorious. He checked the exterior of the house first noting that wires were exposed, there was an old empty dryer along with other odd clutter in the backyard. I bought him inside the shared entrance and, as I was counting on, he noticed that the last inspected dated back to 1994; 18 years. This meant that for each year he did not have an inspection there would be appropriate fines. For our apartment we had black mold growing in our bathroom and the bubble in the ceiling had begun to grow to problematic proportions. Upstairs, Dani’s apartment was suffering from leaks in the ceiling and it looked like her bathroom ceiling was also on the brink of collapsing. We then went to the basement. The boiler was on the verge of exploding, there was flammable items along with gasoline and a pack of matches sitting right beside it. Two things that I did not know was 1. The fire door that separated the two sides did not close all of the way rendering it moot and, on the right basement side there was a toilet. A toilet that had blown up. It had coated the surrounding walls and the leakage prevented us going up to the floor via the right side. The entire time the inspector was photographing and writing constantly.

We stepped outside and he said he needed to come back. When I asked why he said he had run out of space to write down all of the infractions (he had filled the front and had written an entire page on the back portion). I kindly and coyly asked “Well, how much will it cost right now?” He scratched his head and said “Around 20-30k from what I can see but it’s probably going to be higher as this house was never licensed to be split into apartments.” I thanked him and he was going to come back with the county inspector.

So we moved out and but I got the rundown from Rose. Because he was the current owner he owed all current fines and no one new could not move into the empty apartments until everything was up to code. Because three out of four were vacant he was losing 4,500 in potential rent. He handed the property back to his mother and had to claim for bankruptcy. Now here’s the other thing. Every time an old tenant left and a new one was coming in an inspection was supposed to be done. Now that all of the financial burden fell on her they looked into the records and was she was fined for each time she had broken that rule 750/per. By the end of the year Rose had moved out so the place was hemorrhaging money. I sat back, proud of what I had done, and left it be.

Haha, no, fuck that. I wasn’t close to done yet.

I felt like I had destroyed Jay but my real target had always been his mom. I learned that she had about eight properties throughout three towns in my county. I went to each one, spoke to the tenants, and said I was a concerned tenant from another property and asked if they had any problems with their apartments. EVERY person I asked described the apartment in very poor to intolerable levels and that the mom was effectively a slumlord. She would ignore problems unless someone turned to litigations, she was threatened that they would summon the inspector, or, more often than not, the people would move out, she’d refuse their deposit, and sink those into repairs. People rarely fought back because she knew that the occupants were of upper, lower class minorities. So, being the concerned person I was, I want to the inspector of the other two towns and asked for an inspection to be done with at least one, if not more, would be awaiting the inspector when they came. Turns out that she faced pretty much the same infractions on every apartment she owned. It turned out she actually had 12 apartments but I initially only knew about the ones that fell within my county. The remaining properties in the next county over were given a heads up for a surprise inspection. From what I can tell Jays mom had been in the landlord business for about 35-40 years. That collapsed quickly.

Since we moved literally one block down the road from our old one I got to see Jay lose his primary source of income and have to claim bankruptcy BUT also saw that his mother was also trying desperately to find a buyer for all of the apartments so she could pay off the fines. I learned two years later that she too had to file for bankruptcy. Jay and his mother camped out in front of our next apartment two days in Oct. of 13 before she filed for bankruptcy (I’m guessing to scream at me and/or Kate) so I called the cops and said that there were strange people standing in a no parking zone and they kept looking up at the second floor. A cruiser swung by and told them to leave.

I know I should have used the two months I spent monitoring everything to find a new job but this was the one and only time I wanted to cripple a person where they hurt the most; their wallets. I think I got my point across. None of this would’ve happened if you had just fucking fixed the ceiling before it collapsed Jay!

Th;dr: Had a couple of slumlords, they pushed me to a place where I snapped, and so I went a bit crazy and bankrupted the slumlord AND his slumlord mother as well.

(source) story by (/u/Theliterside)

#prorevenge #by /u/Theliterside #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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elderbwrry · 3 years

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Even if he doesn't say so

A little darkgingerpilot Witcher AU I discussed months ago with @cleversturmhond I have no concept of how time passes anymore

Summary: The Witcher meets a bard, the bard meets a mage, and they travel the continent. Kylo knows what he feels, but he can't seem to act. Hux acts without talking about things. And Poe... well, what does Poe feel?

Tags: Witcher AU, Inspired by The Witcher, Slow Burn, if you count 13k as slow burn i guess, within the story its slow burn, fantasy medieval setting, Self-Indulgent, Mage Hux, witcher kylo, Bard Poe, scenic, They're oblivious, sex references, Yearning, i guess, im slapping a mature on it for sex references and some minor violence but honestly ehhh idk, darkgingerpilot

Chapter 1/2/3/?, wordcount 5012

also on Ao3

Whenever someone asked Kylo, he always said he preferred to keep to himself and the company of Silence, his horse and his best companion for the very fact of her name; she didn't talk, she didn't disturb the meditative quiet of his lonely rides, and, most importantly, he wasn't unsure how to curry her favour. An apple would do it. His current companions, on the other hand...

For some gods-forsaken reason, Poe and Hux were quarrelling about a composer who had been dead for over a century. When the three of them had first started travelling together years ago, and in the short time since they'd reunited, such discussion had been endearing; both of them were opinionated about certain things, and their conversations often turned into little debates over whatever topic arose while they were travelling. This was one of those occasions, Kylo enjoying listening to their thoughts and voices filling up the worn country roads. A throwaway comment had become interesting; Kylo didn't actually know much about this particular composer, whereas Hux and Poe both did, and, though Kylo didn't often contribute to these discussions in any great detail since the other two were both so much better with words, he did like to learn something new occasionally. But now, several hours into their journey and still on the same subject, it was just getting fucking annoying.

“I literally studied her work. You can't just turn around and say she wasn't revolutionary,” Poe objected, trotting along between Silence and Hux's own horse on the wide bridleway, looking up at Hux indignantly.

Poe's lowered position made it seem slightly laughable when Hux looked down at him and countered, “Since I actually met the woman, I think you'll find I can,” before prompting his horse to walk on ahead of them.

Poe picked up his pace a little and continued the argument, making some musical point Kylo didn't understand either. He tried to tune them out a bit as he let Silence drop back a short distance behind the them.

Considering how much time the three of them spent around each other in recent years, Kylo supposed he should be glad disagreements as lengthy as these were relatively few. And, certainly, they were fewer even than when it had only been Kylo and Poe on the path together.

[break]

Kylo had met Poe many years ago – at least a decade, if he thought about it – when he'd been compelled by his work to go through the city he'd been born in. Not only was the place particularly unfriendly to Witchers, but also had relations of his – distant now, yet he wanted to avoid them nonetheless – in positions of authority. Kylo had used a fake name, a low hood to hide his eyes, his scar, and stuck to the dingiest taverns, but a curly-haired, high-born young man had recognised him anyway, sitting himself down confidently at Kylo's corner table, offering his name, and saying, “I know you. You're that famous Witcher.”

Kylo had eyed his unwelcome acquaintance – Poewas what he introduced himself as – guessing that he couldn't yet be twenty summers old. Of course, Kylo was no good with ages – his own longevity had corroded his sense for them until everyone seemed either old or young in confusing measures – but Poe's next request had practically confirmed his suspicion.

“Would you let me come with you?” Poe had asked the second the bar-wench had placed down Kylo's ale.

“Come with me where?” Kylo grunted. He wasn't in the mood to bodyguard some noble, out for the first time in a world without castle walls.

“Well, where are you going?” Poe's eyes had glinted as he offered Kylo a charming smile.

Kylo had appraised him again, taking in his youth, his rich clothes, his courage, and summarily said, “No.”

Poe's smile didn't drop, even though Kylo could see his only half-amused chuckle for the frustration it was. “Come on, I just wanna see a bit of the world. Get away from my guardian's expectations.”

“The Queen?” Kylo had asked, an imprudently displayed gold ring on the youth's finger catching the light.

Poe had shrugged a yes.

It only made Kylo refuse all the more. The Queen was one of the people Kylo was known to by unfortunate fact of his heritage, someone he never wanted to anger, in case of her having some cause to meet with him personally. Poe, while not her blood family, would surely be missed, as her ward, were he to make off with a Witcher, especially with the one so primarily known for the massacre at Crait.

Poe's gaze went steely at Kylo's final dismissal, and he'd left the tavern quickly after that. It couldn't have been two years later when Kylo encountered the young man again, fine doublet swapped for something a little more incognito in orange and brown tones, a lute slung over his back and all the more determination to see everything.

Kylo hadn't refused him a second time, and he wouldn't have been able to, since Poe no longer had any qualms about following him uninvited. Thus, he had a new travelling companion.

Just as he suspected, Poe was a liability in some aspects of the job where monsters were concerned, but Poe had also dragged him, limping, back to camp before, bandaged his wounds, fetched his potions. His life had undeniably turned for the better with the bard around; Poe was a talented musician, it turned out, and the extra income and incentive to stay at inns meant Kylo was now more acquainted with feather pillows than he'd ever hoped to be. The positive company had made Kylo better as well, at talking to people, at putting up with them, at giving life nuance. His path was lighter with Poe on it.

They became comfortable around each other. They began to argue, about the silly things people who know each other well and cared for each other deeply argue about, about which direction to head in, which inn to stop at, about the jacket Kylo had left to get trampled by the last monster he'd fought. Barely a day went by without some kind of silly quibble to that effect, but it never truly changed the form of their relationship.

Then, they'd met Hux.

[break]

Kylo had been around long enough that he'd thought he'd heard of most of the other powerful, non-mortal beings on the continent, so randomly running into an evidently strong mage like Hux, who he'd never heard of, was a bit surprising. Kylo had been employed to go and rid a keep up on the hill of whatever it was that was plaguing it. He was expecting to take a while to figure it out, but when he arrived, the malevolent spirits were revealed easily by the mage already locked in battle with them.

The fight the man was putting up was impressive, given the sheer number of foes. He was spewing fire everywhere, manipulating the elements to his will, his bright hair and swan-white robe whipped around by the wind he was creating, but eventually Kylo could see he was losing, and so joined him in the fight. It was fortuitous that they were both there, as Kylo certainly couldn't have defeated them all on his own either. When the last spirit was destroyed, however, Hux had spun round, announced that he had decidedly notrequired the help of some filthy Witcher, and flounced off. He'd gotten about ten paces when he collapsed from the sheer exertion of having used his magic in such a manner.

So Kylo had carried the mage back to camp and laid him down on his bedroll to recuperate.

Poe was travelling with Kylo at that time, and, though he was surprised to see Hux, he seemed very glad to see Kylo back from the fight, juiced up on potions but otherwise unharmed. His smile had made Kylo's heart do something he didn't really understand, the same thing it did when Poe met his gaze during a performance at whatever tavern they were staying at, the same when Kylo said something complimentary to him. Indeed, it was becoming more and more of a common feeling, and Kylo was finding that he rather liked it.

When Kylo suggested he should probably go find a rabbit or something for dinner, Poe seemed happy enough to watch over the mage until he returned, and Kylo had picked his way into the forest they were camping on the edge of with his head full of thoughts of Poe. His distraction had meant he took longer than usual to catch something, and when he got back, it was to find Poe backed against a tree, Hux threatening him using a dagger Kylo hadn't realised he'd had on him.

“Kylo!” Poe had shouted when he saw him – and again, the weird thing Kylo's heart did around Poe – equal parts relieved and pissed off.

Hux relaxed only slightly at knowing whose camp it was he had been brought to, and, once Kylo had convinced him to lower the weapon, he protested strongly that he didn't want anyone's help or charity, and that he was offended to have been carried around like some damsel. Poe told him he was very welcome to fuck off, but it soon became clear that Hux wasn't in any shape to be going off on his own, so he stayed with them that night.

Kylo was settling in to sleep on the opposite side of the fire to Hux when Poe dumped his bedroll down next to him, closer than usual – cue the weird heart thing again – and lay down. All Kylo had managed to ask was, “What are you doing?”

Huffing, Poe leaned up to peer over Kylo's arm at where Hux was lying, turned away from them on the far side of their little camp. “He tried to kill me today. I don't wanna wake up with my throat cut for some magey shit.”

Kylo considered pointing out that Poe wouldn't wake up at all if his throat had been slit, but he was more struck by the implication that Poe was trusting him to protect him. Usually, people were more likely to fear that Kylo would be the one killing them after whatever monster he'd been hired to dispatch, but Poe was different, and always had been, really. He insisted that Kylo had good in him, that he wasn't all the darkness that Witchers were supposed to be. He wasn't entirely right, of course, but it was nice to have someone hope in him.

So instead of making the bard move away, all Kylo had said was, “You'll get cold, so far from the fire,” and offered Poe an extra side of his own blanket.

One night of Hux staying with them turned into two, into three, into a week's travel to the neighbouring city. In fact, Kylo was almost sad to see the severe mage leave, as it meant he and Poe went back to their usual sleeping arrangements, instead of curling up together with Kylo as his shield.

[break]

Months later, to Kylo's surprise, Hux sought him out. He was after a gem of something something and he needed hired muscle that he could trust would actually get the job done. Hux had found them by the coast, and the first thing he said as he took Poe in was, “You're still travelling with him, are you?” Kylo wasn't sure whether the question was meant for him or Poe, but they'd both answered definitively.

The month and a half of travel it took to reach the mountain cave system in which the gem was kept saw Poe and Hux grow accustomed to each other, if not strictly friendly. Poe didn't resume his habit of sleeping next to Kylo, Hux didn't try to kill Poe again, and eventually they stopped speaking to each other in jibes and barbs.

Hux and Kylo also ended up bonding; they would sit together in taverns while Poe was performing and talk, about things that they remembered from when they were young, things Poe had learned only from his history professors. It was nice to have someone who related, who had experienced similar things to him, who understood what it was to be not-quite human and tied to a duty they didn't quite want. Hux had been raised in magic, it turned out, and, as they talked, Kylo realised it wasn't so different to being raised into killing as he had been. The small, commiserating smiles Hux offered struck Kylo deeply, and one day he realised that Hux, bathed in the yellow, glowing tavern light, was beautiful.

When they reached the cave systems that were their destination, Poe had to stay in the local town while Hux and Kylo went in search of the gem, since the place was too unknown and dangerous to risk him coming. And it did turn out to be dangerous; Hux and Kylo each saved each others' life a few times, had several close calls, and, once all the stress and danger of the adventure had turned into the satisfaction of success, they translated that pent-up tension into a vigorous fuck on the way out.

“I don't know why you keep him around,” Hux commented as they trudged back to the town to meet Poe, gem firmly in his grasp. “He can't help you with your work like I could.”

Kylo supposed that was true. “He helps me be better,” Kylo replied, which was also true.

Hux made a derisive sound. “Does he, now.”

Kylo shook his head at Hux's tone. “Why don't you like him? You have plenty in common.”

“It's not that I don't like him,” Hux said, tossing his head to get a strand of hair which had slipped in front of his eyes out of the way. Considering Kylo was grimy and dishevelled from the fighting, Hux's deep crimson tunic still looked remarkably put together, and it gave him a haughty air as he said, “I know his type. I've served them in courts all over the continent for centuries. They think they're entitled to everything without working for it and without thanking the people who actually make it possible. He's just another ungrateful, mortal noble.”

Kylo thought about what he said for a good minute. “You're wrong,” he said.

[break]

Back at the inn, Poe had the entire town in the palm of his hand thanks to his songs. He looked charming as ever, flashing smiles to all the ladies who were fawning over him, but Kylo was happy to see that, when Poe spotted them enter, his smile softened and a new light entered his eyes. This time, the flip in Kylo's heart felt more natural than ever.

When Kylo emerged from the bathhouse, Poe was already waiting in his room for a full account of the adventure so he could turn it into his latest ballad. Kylo related what happened as he usually did, keeping to the bare facts and trusting Poe to make them into pretty wordplay later, until he got to the end, at which point he decided that Poe didn't strictly need to know that Hux had pushed him up against the wall of the cave and kissed him with a ferocity he wasn't likely to forget any time soon.

But Poe noticed the brief hesitation and looked up from his little book where he'd been scribbling notes. “What?” he asked.

Kylo shrugged. “Nothing. We left to come back here,” he said, pulling the shirt he was wearing off and reaching for a different one.

“Did something bite you?”

Kylo could hear the frown in Poe's voice, and he turned back to see Poe's eyes locked on a slightly bruised, reddish ring low on his neck. A vague recollection surfaced in Kylo's mind of Hux tugging down his collar, once his outer layer of armour was off, and digging his teeth hard into the flesh over that spot. He hummed, reaching up to rub at it and thus hide it from Poe's sight. “Must have.”

Poe stood up and approached, batting Kylo's hand out of the way, which he couldn't find the motivation to resist. When Poe ran his thumb over the bruise, he was so warm Kylo pushed into the touch. If Poe noticed, he didn't comment, his brow was deeply furrowed. “What kind of monster even has teeth like that?”

A knock came on the door. “Kylo,” Hux called from outside, “we need to talk about payment.”

“I'm...” Kylo hesitated, feeling strangely and suddenly like he'd betrayed Poe. “I'm coming.”

Kylo wasn't sure what about him looked guilty, but Poe seemed to realise at that moment where the mark came from. “Oh,” he said, stepping away and back to his book.

Not long after that, Poe announced his intention to head back to his home kingdom. Kylo's mouth went dry. It was Hux who had to ask the platitudes – did he have some business to attend to? How long did he think he would stay? - which Poe replied to blandly, something about responsibility to his mentors. Kylo wanted to ask him to stop, to stay, but all he managed to get out was, “I'll miss you.”

[break]

Time passed.

Poe left for home, taking his light and song with him.

Kylo spent one winter with Hux, back in the keep where they'd first met, which Hux had appropriated for himself, but it was all wrong; there was a grounding influence missing, without which the two of them spent more time treating each other angrily than well. The sex was amazing, but eventually, it felt hollow. The day it became clear that the harshest weather had blown over, Kylo was back on Silence, looking for the next contract out on a monster, something he could hack into pieces without thinking.

The seasons changed, fled and returned until it had been another year. Kylo was firmly back in the blank swing of contract, monster, payment, move along, but the campfire felt lonely after dark, when he had nothing to occupy his mind. He started talking to Silence; she never replied.

Sometimes, Kylo found himself wondering how long it would be until he ran into Hux again, and if he would even want to see him. Maybe he could make the way they left things up to him. They'd had something, after all, and, though it hadn't been perfect, he missed that feeling of love and understanding and protection which Hux provided. Kylo didn't hold out much hope of seeing Poe; he never went near his home city, and why would Poe venture out again? He'd seen his share of the world. He was back in his real life, now.

But eventually, those nights of wondering wore Kylo down, and, quite without intending to, he found himself directing Silence down the path to the kingdoms neighbouring Poe's.

There, Kylo found himself invited to the royal tourney of Queen Phasma, as a guest of honour. She was a renowned warrior, and Kylo reasoned that it would be rude to decline the request of such an esteemed ruler. He reasoned that perhaps she would even have some work for him. He reasoned a lot of things, in his attempt to deny to himself that the real reason was hope that a tourney would be more than enough cause for a neighbouring noble to be in the area, or even just a bard...

The festivities were festivities. It was strange, to watch others fight instead of having to do it himself, and for performance rather than necessity. Though sometimes the rush of people grated on him, Phasma was a gracious host and Kylo enjoyed the good food well enough, always keeping an eye out for some shock of red hair, or those cheerful, dark curls he so hoped for.

His vigilance yielded one of those prizes.

A tall, beautiful, severe looking man entered the great hall one evening for the feast, walking directly up to the main table at which Phasma and Kylo were seated, and didn't even falter when he recognised Kylo's distinctive scar, yellow eyes, dark garb.

“Hux!” Phasma exclaimed standing and marching around the table to pull the man into a hug, which he returned with surprising readiness, “My dear friend, it has been too long!”

Hux gave a half-bow. “I'm sorry I'm late, I was caught up with business.”

“Ah, yes, business,” Phasma said knowingly, “and where is Lord Dameron?”

Hux's eyes flitted over to Kylo's for the briefest of seconds. “Altogether too caught up with his teaching to bother with a tournament, I'm afraid.”

“Well you must tell him I want him at the next one.” With that, she made to retake her seat again, gesturing at Kylo. “Kylo, this is Hux, currently an advisor to court in the neighbouring kingdom and the most talented mage in all the continent. Hux, Kylo, the Witcher.”

“Yes, we've met,” Hux understated, settling his gaze on Kylo fully, now, and extending his hand to Kylo over the table. Not sure what he was expected to do, Kylo gave Hux his hand, and Hux took it, raising it to his lips and kissing Kylo's knuckles.

Kylo wasn't entirely certain if he could blush any more, since the mutations which had turned him into a Witcher, but if he could, he was sure he was, what with so many people around to witness a display of affection which Kylo was unused to at the best of times. Along with that, relief, because it made him feel suddenly like all was forgiven without him having to wrangle the words around an apology.

“Hux, stop that and sit down!” Phasma reprimanded, “The players will begin soon.”

It was only as Hux sat down that Kylo realised the empty chair on his right had likely always been for Hux. No sooner had he settled than the players flooded the floor, dancing into their performance of an old, famous play, something about two supernatural kings vying for the affection of a mortal with all sorts of fanciful gifts.

“This version is better than the original,” Hux remarked a short while in, and Kylo hummed out an assent, though he had never seen it when it first was performed. He was probably too busy wading through drowner guts, or something similarly uncouth.

“So, you're in Poe's court, now?” Kylo asked instead. “Is he king?”

“No,” Hux remarked, picking up his goblet of wine and keeping his gaze on the players. “Nor does he want to be. The Queen has plenty of other worthy successors, and Poe would much rather go back to spending his days as a bard.” He tutted. “Even if he doesn't say so.”

“Why are you there?”

He sighed. “I wanted to see what you meant about him not being like the others, so I offered my services to the Queen.” Kylo hummed again, and this time, Hux turned to look at him. “You were quite right. He's different. I find myself rather taken with him.”

Kylo reached for his own wine now, his mouth suddenly dry. “Oh. Have you..?”

“No. Kylo...” Hux placed his cup down and leaned to the side so his shoulder was brushing Kylo's, even as Kylo was resolutely not looking at him. “He misses you. And I know you miss him.”

As if by design, the lutist started to play, and both their eyes went to the young woman performing in the corner. Kylo found himself thinking, perhaps uncharitably, that she wasn't as talented as Poe, her song wasn't as sweet.

Hux didn't fail to notice this. “I think we should travel together again,” he said.

“We?”

“You and I and Poe,” Hux said, as though it were obvious. “Like we did those few months travelling in from the coast. I've found myself thinking about them a lot.”

Kylo shrugged. “It was only a few months. Things have changed since then.”

“Which is why we should give it another try.” Kylo jolted in slight surprise when he felt Hux's cool hand lay over his own on the arm of the chair. He turned to find Hux looking directly into his eyes. “Stay here for a week after the tourney is over, and I'll have convinced him to come. Kylo.” A tacit command from Hux, as usual, instead of a request.

Kylo nodded.

[break]

So Kylo waited by the city gates, where Hux had sent a messenger bird that he should meet them. He was nervous, when he first spotted the black dot on the distant path that he was sure was them, shuffling from one foot to the other and gripping Silence's reins tight, like that would do anything. He was wondering how he should greet Poe; hello, certainly, and he didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from smiling, but he found that he also wanted to give him a hug, press their lips together, feel that he was really thereagain, after the nearly two years they'd spent apart.

It turned out he needn't have worried, since Poe sprang forward and clasped him into a hug without prompting, talking immediately about where they would be going and how good it would be to be back on the road.

Hux had merely given him a look that said I told you so, and followed after the excitable bard.

That had been nearly two weeks ago.

It turned out that Hux was entirely right; things were different than before, and they were better. The things that had changed were these:

Hux had brought a horse with him, this time, and several other magical items, such as a tent which was far larger inside than it appeared. Poe hadn't bothered with a horse, since he hadn't needed one before, and had thus left the money with which to pay for its upkeep back at home, planning instead to sing for his money like he used to. Kylo rather liked this; it reminded him of old times, when he steadfastly refused to let Poe ride Silence, in case it tired her out too much. The tent, on the other hand, felt annoyingly like Hux was living in style while the two of them were stuck outside, since Hux had never invited them in and Kylo, for one, wasn't about to invite himself.

It seemed Hux and Poe had also developed a much closer friendship, in the time Hux had spent at court. It made Kylo feel a little like he had missed out, like he had time to catch up on, like there was something impenetrable he couldn't access. Kylo supposed it must be similar for Hux, since he and Poe had known each other for so long before he met them, and again for Poe, given that winter when it was only him and Hux, but times like these – Poe and Hux discussing something so academic that Kylo knew so little about – could be daunting as much as interesting.

Mostly, Kylo felt like he still had to make something up to Poe, and he wasn't sure how to do it. He should probably just have a conversation with him about it, but the words never came, and bringing it up when nobody was thinking about it would, he was sure, just sour the mood. And if he just left it, the tension would have to break eventually.

[break]

Ahead of him on the road, Hux and Poe's little argument seemed to have reached a peak point. Kylo had been too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to what they were saying, but now Poe had stopped walking, raising open arms in that way of his that was almost defeated, but actually said he still thought he was right. It was very cute, like he was a turtle with a lute for a shell, and Kylo couldn't help but think his annoyed expression was charming as well.

When Silence reached the spot where Poe was standing, watching Hux ride on with his usual haughty confidence, Kylo hummed. “Did he win?”

Poe huffed, moving again to keep up with Silence's ambling pace. “No, but he's acting like he did. He always thinks he's right.”

Kylo thought about it for a beat; Hux did indeed always think that he was right. It was one of the things that had caused friction in their attempt at a relationship that one winter. It wasn't that all three of them couldn't be stubborn, more that Kylo and Poe had much more ability to hold out against each other's pestering than either of them seemed to have against Hux. One narrowing twitch of those steely-grey eyes, and anyone with even half a sense of self-preservation would surrender. So Kylo could sympathise with Poe's little pout.

They came to the edge of the forest, the village where they planned to stop a short way before them across a few fields. Kylo drew Silence to a halt and put out a hand to Poe, who looked at it first with surprise and then joy. He quickly allowed Kylo to help him up, settling just behind the Witcher, his chest pressed to his back, their thighs brushing against each other with every movement. Kylo could feel it all, and he tried not to let his stomach flip too much when Poe's arms snaked around his sides, hands locking at his front. He cursed inwardly that today he'd chosen to forgo some layers in favour of his cooler shirt.

But then Poe was saying to him over his shoulder – though it felt more like murmuring in his ear - “Come on, I wanna see Hux's face.”

Kylo prodded Silence to walk on, closing the distance on Hux. As they passed, Kylo felt Poe remove one hand to wave at the mage. Looking around, it was in almost slow motion that Hux's expression went from one of mild astonishment to annoyance to jealousy.

“See you there, Hugs!” Poe said, and Kylo smiled to himself.

#darkgingerpilot #armitage hux #poe dameron #kylo ren #kylo/hux/poe #kylux #darkpilot #gingerpilot #my writing #fanfiction #witcher au #fantasy medieval au #even if he doesn't say so

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deerlyloved · 3 years

Text

dont let me die here

under cut: looong story about my sci fi oc, mei, losing her legs

The dust had yet to settle from the collapse, debris was still clunking down around her in chunks of broken glass and jagged metal, implanting in the ground around her and banging off of the large metal beam that had fallen just right. The hardened glass of her helmet had broken into pieces after an unidentifiable chunk of debris crashed into her visor, sending shards of glass splashing into her face. She barely closed her eyes quickly enough to keep herself from being blinded, but now the shards were digging in around her right eye and she didn’t want to risk clumsily poking at her face with the one hand she could move around.

They were here on a simple mission to move protected assets, two high-ranking members of an alien family that were suddenly placed into protective status by their parents. It was supposed to be easy, just move the two from the embassy to the ship and make sure they got there safe and sound, that’s what the Guardians were all about! Guarding! Whatever went wrong did so fast, probably an ambush if Mei had to guess-- God, she could feel blood sticking in her throat.

Whoever wanted the two protectees were willing to do a lot to get them. The group was approaching the ship, quite literally feet from it when suddenly someone started shooting. The second he heard shots ring out, Rea practically scooped up the two aliens like they were a basket of laundry and ran them onto the ship while shouting commands that Mei didn’t bother registering because she knew what she had to do.

They weren’t even shooting at the unit. It was just the one at first, a single figure shooting in the direction of the civilians just on the street to do what Mei now realized was to draw the attention of the soldiers, and it worked because she aimed for them just like Ana did before she was shot herself. They had been waiting, snuck up from behind the ship, and got her in the back. Ana defended her while Mei hopped up, thankful she had her helmet on at the time because if she hadn’t-- Mei wheezed out a cough as her hand searched around, palm flat on the ground and patting through dirt and stained grass until her fingers brushed against a stony surface, wrapping around it to pull towards her. She couldn’t scream anymore, she had tried for what felt like hours, but now her throat hurt too much, she was too tired, she felt blood pooling inside her armor and yelling made it slosh and she hated it, she hated it hated it hated--

Taking as deep a breath she could, Mei focused on gathering the strength to lift the rock again.

A full fire-fight broke out before she knew it, the ship taking off without warning to get the poor assets out as Rea jumped out of the closing door to help his unit, glancing behind his shoulder to make sure the ship was undisturbed before he grabbed one of the attackers with his bare hands to join the fight. It was a nasty crunch.

Mei looked across the field to see others among the crowd of panicked civilians, oh so conveniently dressed similarly so she could pick them out among the crowd. One of them looked up, staring back at the private as she looked at them between firing at those attacking her and searching for cover, and they made a scene out of rushing out and grabbing a bystander trying to get out, pointing directly at Mei.

She didn’t mean to, really, she didn’t realize she was even running until she was right on them and her ears were ringing from Rea shouting through the microphone in her helmet. It was unnerving, watching the attacker unceremoniously shove their hostage away when Mei took aim and instead lunge after her, unnerving because they baited her and it worked. She fought them off as well as she could when she was taken by surprise, finally shoving the attacker to the ground and pointing the barrel of her gun at them before they flung a hand up to gesture towards the buildings bordering along the park field, drawing Mei’s attention towards the incoming disaster. They signaled her out, and it worked, and seconds later Mei watched as buildings erupted into flames and the most piercing boom rattled through the air as a metal tower came crashing down into a structure, sending everything toppling.

The attacker threw her down, a cloud of dust and debris flooding out into the field as Mei watched with horror from her position on the ground, sky filling with smoke as shots rang out with renewed vigor, more booms cracking from behind her as she scurried to her feet. Out of breath, out of time, she looked to the sky to watch as the ship flew higher and higher-- but another joined the air. This was more planned than they could have thought, there was a leak somewhere and that thought sent rage through Mei’s mind. She watched in some mix of fear and anger as the CCF ship activated what weapons it could in the time it was given and fought back as it escaped quickly, and she knew that Karen was on board trying to shove the pilot out of their seat to take charge because the robot knew they could fly better.

With that thought, Mei switched channels, speaking directly to Karen instead of the team, and suddenly Rea’s shouts stopped echoing in her helmet. “Karen,” Mei breathed out, waiting for affirmation the bot was listening before she continued, “Get the ship out of here now. You know what to do.” The bot agreed, and seconds later a quiet clattering and frantic shouts from the pilot were heard as Karen finally heaved them out of their seat, taking charge and connecting herself to the ship. The ship was gone in moments, just like it always was when Karen was flying.

The private switched back to her team’s channel, looking towards the city and seeing figures obscured by the smoke rushing about, screams as gunfire continued in the distance. Now that their mission was completed, it was time to take care of the new issue at hand.

“Guys, I’m going back into the city to evacuate civilians, I can see gunmen from where I’m standing-- We can’t just leave them.”

There was arguing, there always was, and Rea spoke, “We need to regroup first, Mei, we’re all scattered right now!”

Mei was already running.

At the thought of running, Mei quietly took another breath and closed her eyes, gently flexing her toes. She thought she was doing it. She hoped she was doing it. It was just because she was out of it, right? Nothing else. Nothing else.

She ran through the field and onto the road, armored boots clanking off of the rock beneath her as she navigated her way through chunks of debris, buildings still falling apart around her. There were groups of civilians trapped and wondering, scared, and Mei pointed them out, moved debris that she could to help some get out, and towards the less-on-fire park. Then, though, she heard someone shout in the distance, heard them scream for help at the top of their lungs, and she took off running to help only to find herself face to face with the attacker from just minutes earlier, staring at her from their position on a chunk of debris among the rubble of a decimated building.

The street was lined with creaking, burning buildings, threatening to topple at any moment, and Mei felt uneasy as she stared at this mysterious person as they returned the gesture. Finally, they stood with a large grin, holding their hand in the air to show something they were holding-- No no no.

Mei heard the beeping of the detonator triggering, and then the building next to her had its last support blown to pieces, the force knocking Mei across the street and flat on her back as the building started to fall. The attacker stood on their pile of debris, staring at the private before they ran off into the destroyed city blocks. Chunks fell, massive pieces of debris crashing to the ground and shaking everything around it from the impact as Mei stared into the smokey sky in a daze. She saw the metal fall towards her and that was it until she woke up.

The woman took a deep breath, hearing the creak of her armor and the scrape of it against the twisted, gnarled debris as she raised her hand and pressed the rock against the side of the debris that she could reach from her peculiar position. Mei couldn’t raise her head anymore, but the first few times she could only led to her realizing that she was pinned by this hunk of metal, her chest poking out from the caved-in section but she...She just couldn’t see her legs.

It was because she was in shock, she wasn’t aware of everything.

Mei slammed the rock against the metal, hearing the clang of it and feeling the vibration rattle through her armor, whimpering in response. But it made a noise. More noise than she could with her radio out, with her throat sticky and coarse, with fear clouding her mind so she couldn’t even think of what to say. She drew back her hand and then slammed the rock down again. Clang.

She would get out of this soon, they’d find her and pull her out and they’d all walk back to the new meeting point that Rea definitely set up by now, and they’d laugh about this after the Major yelled at them about not securing the ship.

Clang.

Icka would fix this. Icka knew everything about anything, and she’d fix it and Mei would be able to feel her toes again because oh god why couldn’t she feel them it had been so long.

Clang.

She couldn’t cry anymore, she had already sobbed her eyes out and screamed herself hoarse with the what-felt-like hours she’d spent here so far, but right now she wanted to. She wanted to just cry and cry and cry because everything hurt and everything was so loud even though it was quiet and she just wanted to go home.

Mei just kept slamming this stupid rock against the metal even though it made her ribs feel like they were stabbing her because it was all she could do, absentmindedly make as much noise as she could muster up as she stared up into the sky and hoped that someone, anyone, would come along soon. But what if no one did?

Would she die here?

She didn’t want to die on an alien planet.

The private hit the debris as long as she could, but she felt so weak now and it was only getting worse. Maybe if she just...Closed her eyes. They’d find her or they wouldn’t, this wasn’t working.

No, no she couldn’t just…

Mei sniffled, rolling her head to the side and looking at her hand, staring at the rock she held. Her entire arm was shaking by now. She hated this, she hated the CCF for sending her here, clang, and herself for falling for this stupid plan, clang, and that idiot who blew everything up, she hated this stupid rock and this stupid debris and clang clang clang clang clang--

Digitized chirping found its way to Mei, echoing off the debris. She stared into the still settling dust, eyes wide and hopeful for the first time since she woke up, and finally she saw the only good sight she had all day. A purple, pixelated frowning face glowed through the haze as a dark purple set of armor slowly hopped from pile to pile, bouncing onto the ground and looking around. Kro’asha. She had never been so happy to see the bug before, and with a renewed vigor the woman slammed the rock once more. The noise drew Kro’asha’s attention, and as he finally saw Mei’s bright hair among the dulled colors of destroyed buildings, his screen flashed countless exclamation marks.

The alien ran forward, stumbling a few times until he came to rest beside Mei and dropped to his knees, speaking loudly with more panic than she’d ever heard from him before, “Amari! Alive, found Amari alive, need help!”

There was a quiet mumble on Mei’s part, but she knew that Rea was shouting at Kro’asha on the radio. The alien repeated himself a few times as he nervously reached out to Mei, armored hand finding a pool of her blood instead and pulling back in fear. Kro’asha looked at his dark armor, seeing the bright blue drip off his fingertips with his screen flashing exclamation marks and sad faces with vigor. More quiet mumbling. It was nice to hear Rea, even if it was only barely.

Nice and a good way to see Mei off into her second round of unconsciousness.

You know, the average person wakes up from a fainting spell in, at most, two minutes. Anything over should be cause for serious medical attention, a trip to the hospital. From what Mei could tell, she fainted when Kro’asha found her and was in and out of consciousness with most of her time spent asleep for roughly... 13 hours. Between prying her out, transporting her to the nearest base, the surgeries, and lastly waking up from anesthesia, Mei only remembered Rea swearing in his native language as he picked her up and tucked her against his chest while Icka yelled at him to not move an injured person, then looking up into bright lights and hearing Icka squawk orders at others as she stabilized Mei, and finally a different set of lights on a different ceiling as machines beeped around her, Icka leaning over her after a second or so and smiling in a way that Mei only found endearing because she knew the alien.

Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the scene around her as she blinked through her blurry vision only to realize that several things were very, very wrong. Her vision was all off, she couldn’t feel her legs fully but it felt like they were there, and she hurt so, so much.

Mei’s hands sought out the side of the bed, feeling for a railing and finding it after some fumbling, fingers gripping the metal bars as she tried to pull herself up before the pain got to her and she cried out, losing her grasp and collapsing back onto the bed. What the fuck was wrong with her?

She finally saw the IV she had, her nose wrinkling as she fought the urge to pull it out, searching around the room for anything she could to help her understand what was going on-- God, she was so thirsty. Finally, she spotted what she was hoping she would, the words 'PROPERTY OF THE CCF’ engraved onto a machine next to her bed. Mei made it home.

The door opened suddenly, making Mei jolt and try to sit up again only to come crashing back down with another quiet cry. This startled the person entering as well, who Mei identified after the pain began to fade again and her judgment was less clouded.

She threw her hand out towards her best friend, frowning and speaking before she realized she was, “Icka…”

“Oh goodness, you’re awake, I was so worried, you were bordering on nearly an hour.” Icka took three steps and was already next to the bed, leaning down in a way that looked hunched and uncomfortable to Mei but was no doubt fine for the avian. Icka placed her large talons on the bed rail before she put a single filed talon under Mei’s chin with a smile on her face. “You’re alive!”

“I’m alive.” Mei echoed, much less enthusiastic.

“And you have probably eaten through the pain meds I gave you, one moment, oh dear!” Icka turned and rushed to a cart that was placed to the side, rummaging through it and turning around with a needle. As she returned to standing next to the bed, Mei looked up at her, watching the alien inject what she could only assume was pain medication into her IV. “This should help with...everything. I know how quickly you metabolize it, so I’ll try to keep up…”

“What happened?” Mei asked abruptly. Icka clammed up at the question, capping the syringe silently and turning to discard it in a nearby box. She was silent for several, painstakingly long moments.

“I tried, I really did, there was just… There was just so much damage, Mei. I could barely figure out where everything was supposed to go, a-and your anatomy is already so odd to me…!”

“What happened?” Mei repeated, more firmly this time as she found her voice and felt herself begin to worry.

“Rea wanted...to tell you...He said I couldn’t handle it well and I g-guess… I guess he was right…” The avian took a step towards the door, “I’m going to go...I’ll get him!”

“Icka, no, wait--!” The alien was gone before Mei could finish talking.

Minutes dragged on as Mei slowly but surely felt the pain medication begin to take hold, and just as abruptly as before the door swung open, except this time Rea marched in instead of Mei’s best friend. The captain stood in the doorway, staring at Mei for a few seconds before he came to stand beside her bed, arms crossed as always and his shoulders squared.

“Amari.”

“Dragon Boy.”

Rea narrowed his eyes at the nickname, but his gaze suddenly softened and he sighed. “Icka can’t handle this, so I’ve decided to take the burden for her.”

“Lay it on me.” Mei croaked, hands grasping the hem of her thin hospital blanket.

“She couldn’t save your vision in your right eye, and the damage was so bad she had to completely remove it. The good news for your eye is that we can easily replace it with a functional optic prosthetic, even get some upgrades.”

Mei couldn’t help it, she raised her hand to gently touch the right side of her face to find it bandaged and taped off, how she didn’t realize it was beyond her.

“That doesn’t...I mean, it’s not great, but that’s not…”

“I have more, do you want the good news or bad news first?”

Mei didn’t want either, actually. Still, after a second of thought, she answered quietly, “Good news…”

“You have lost approximately twenty-seven and a half pounds,” The man closed his eyes and nodded like what he was saying made any sense in this context because Mei was very lost as to what that meant, but he spoke again before she could question him, “The bad news is that it is approximately twenty-seven and a half pounds worth of legs.”

What.

No no, no, holy shit, no--

Mei looked down towards her feet, eye wide as she stared and felt the urge to pull her blanket off. He was wrong, she could...She could feel them…

The woman tried to wiggle her toes, flex her calf, anything. Nothing. No movement. She couldn’t even see the shape of her legs under the blanket.

No no no no.

“We’re already looking into getting you approved for mechanical prosthetics, it would just be a matter of another surgery after you’ve healed to put in the sensors and artificial nerve endings if you want--”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! Get out!” Mei covered her face, tucking her head into her arm as she started to shake, “Get out, leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you!”

The door opened again and Icka stepped in, motioning for the captain with a frown, “Rea, you need to leave.”

This was wrong, it was a dream, right? This had to be a dream, she was still in transport and this was just a bad dream. Mei had bad dreams, she had a lot of them, and this was just another one for her stupid dream journal that Icka made her keep.

It had to be, it had to be.

#sci fi #sci fi oc #mei #angst #trauma #my writing

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bonesaldente · 4 years

Text

Caliginous I Darth Maul x Reader

Chapter 3: The Henchwoman

read this on ao3

read the last chapter here

words: 2700+

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This isn’t off to a great start. Lightsabers are not easy to fight against if you don’t have one yourself; there are few weapons that can hold up against the pure energy that makes up the blade, and those are hard to acquire.

Fortunately for you, the Jedi have visited your home planet of Kessel before and started trouble with your guild. You have never been affected personally, but as a precaution as well as for the simple practicality of it, you modified your sword with parts of a stun baton. If activated, an electric current flows over the blade, strong enough to block an incoming hit with a lightsaber, but not strong enough to cut through a person with near as much ease as one.

In a fight like this, it’s a purely defensive weapon.

You hold the light durasteel in your hands and activate the switch, preparing yourself for the first hit, which doesn’t leave you waiting for long.

You manage to block the first three strikes at you and try to use his growing proximity to your advantage: As he swings at you for the fourth time, a low attack directed at your legs, you jump up in the air instead of blocking it with your sword and use your now unoccupied left hand to land a punch at his throat, which doesn’t have near as big an effect on him as you hoped, but still gives you enough time to increase the distance between the two of you in an attempt to collect yourself again and somehow gain the upper hand. After all, you have an arsenal of weapons, while he seemingly came with only that lightsaber of his.

In a flash, you draw your blaster and fire at him, but he deflects the shots to the side using the red blade, then comes at you unexpectedly fast, almost supernaturally so. You barely manage to dodge his attack and his saber grazes your wrist, causing you to unintentionally open your hand and… drop your sword, the one thing keeping you alive.

All throughout your training you have learned one thing above all else: You are never unarmed. The idea then was that, as long as you have your body, you will fight, regardless of whether the opponent was stronger or more heavily armed than you.

So you keep going.

The high speed of the fight doesn’t allow for you to pick up your sword, so you move quickly towards the side to where there is more space, desperately trying to come up with a plan on how you can win against an armed Sith lord without wielding a weapon that can block his attacks.

Quickly, you realize that, here too, you are backing against a wall and the feeling of being trapped slowly but steadily sets in.

Regardless of its uselessness against a lightsaber, you get out a dagger from inside your jacket. Maybe if you manage to get his guard down, you will be able to score a hit. Most importantly, you need to get close to him again; his saber has a longer range than any weapon you carry, so as long as you’re at a distance, he’s got the advantage.

Only, you have no idea how to get close to him without literally being sliced in half.

He’s spinning the deadly weapon in his hand now while walking in your direction with the air of a predator about him, not looking threatened by you in the slightest. You hope he is underestimating you.

When he slices at you again, you duck under the incoming saber and his arm, rolling over the ground and whipping around while he still has his back turned to you. This is the opening you have been waiting for: Half blinded by staring into his lightsaber for so long, you push your dagger forward and get his side. Trying to get away from him before he can come at you again, you lunge to the empty space spread out before you, but you are caught mid-air by an invisible force.

And slammed into the wall that was previously behind you.

The impact makes you feel like you can hear your bones cracking and knocks the air out of your lungs, and when you try to refill them with oxygen, you can’t. Something is closing around your throat, and despite knowing it must be the force, you instinctively claw at the invisible hands around your airways.

Over your choking, you can hear the sound of his lightsaber retracting as if he has already won.

Your mind is clouded by the lack of oxygen, but the wheels are turning while you are searching your brain for a way, any way at all, you can survive this.

That’s when you get an idea.

Clutching the wall you are pressed against as if to use it to support your weight, you slowly move your outstretched arm closer to your body, closer to your belt.

Your opponent is too preoccupied with choking the life out of you to notice when you remove one of the new circular detonators from your belt.

‘The oval ones explode on impact, the circular ones have a five-second timer’, you remember the lady in the armory telling you.

You gently toss the detonator with a subtle flick of your wrist, mentally counting down the seconds.

4… The detonator is moving excruciatingly slowly, but it’s tumbling the right way.

3… The Sith has yet to notice the approaching threat.

2… The explosive device gets caught on a loose rock lying in the alley, still lying a few feet away from its target

1… You start to lose feeling in your legs, a numbing sensation washing over your body

The explosion presses you even deeper into the wall, if that’s possible, but suddenly you are free to breathe again and relief spreads in your chest, despite the almost unbearable heat enveloping you for a second, paired with debris cutting into your skin.

Your ears are throbbing and your hearing feels muffled when the initial shock subsides, but you feel alive and genuinely hopeful once more.

Your opponent has been thrown back by the explosion, giving you a small chance of escape. You push off the wall and scramble away from him as fast as you can, but the oxygen is only now re-entering your system and your legs are still wobbly.

Still, you are getting closer to a corner. You only need to round it, then he won’t be able to use the force on you, right? As soon as you’ve reached that corner you’ll be safe, you’ll be able to run, to hide-

Your hearing kicks in again and you can hear the Sith getting back on his feet, no doubt following you.

In a desperate attempt to hold him off, you start attacking him with your throwing knives, quickly spinning, throwing, and running again. He is blocking them easily with the force. You remember something you have learned from the same woman that had gotten hold of a Jedi’s lightsaber once: it’s easy for them to block objects with the same mass.

When you turn around the next time, instead of throwing another knife, you shoot at him with your blaster, followed by a knife from your other hand. This seems to throw him off, but it’s hard to tell because you are already turned around and on the run again.

The corner is getting closer, you’re almost there-

An invisible hand is reaching out to you again, this time wrapping around your ankle, and pulls back harshly, making you fall on your face.

The force pulls you back towards him mercilessly and the only thing you can do is turn around so you can at least face the enemy.

You come to a halt a few feet away from him, but suddenly it is like the force is completely covering your body, restraining all movement and effectively locking you in place.

You try to fight against it and free your body, but you just end up panting from the effort, not having moved an inch.

In your peripheral vision, you can see the man now stepping closer to you. He is no longer wearing his hood, it must have been blown back by the explosion, but you can’t see his face properly from your angle, still lying on your back.

What you can see however is that he is stretching his hand out again, ready to have the force close itself around your throat again.

Panic seeps through every inch of your being. This time, there really is no way out.

Unless?

“Wait,” you press out.

“What?” His voice sounds way too calm for having fought you seconds ago, it’s almost insulting.

“I’ve…” you struggle to get the words out against the grip of the force around you.

Almost imperceptibly, the hold on your jaw loosens.

“I’ve changed my mind. I will… work with you”

You hold your breath. There is little to no guarantee he’ll still accept your late change of heart.

“For me”, is all he says.

“What?”

“You will not work with me. You will work for me.”

“Whatever”, you utter, voice strained. You just want him to spare your life and, for maker’s sake, let go of your body. It feels like every single muscle in you is cramping up.

A second goes by and nothing happens, but then he lets go of you at once.

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth before you can help it, and you slowly crawl back on your feet, getting to face him in a more dignified position now.

The man standing in front of you is a zabrak. You haven’t encountered many of them in your life, and certainly none with a complexion as scarlet red as his. His intricate tattoos accentuate his features stunningly, his horns giving him an almost regal appearance. And, maker, he’s young, he can’t be much older than you are.

For one short moment, you just stare at each other, then, without breaking eye contact, his outstretched hand at his side summons your sword from the other end of the alley.

Spinning it so that the handle points in your direction, he extends his arm towards you.

It’s a strangely conciliatory gesture.

You hesitate one second, hand hovering above the handle, then take your weapon back.

Feeling the familiar leather wrapped around the steel calms you and the panic finally wears off as you return the sword to its place in the scabbard on your back.

“Get what you need to bring and meet me in three hours. I will wait for you east, at the edge of the forest.”

You take a deep breath while letting the realization of what you have gotten yourself into hit you.

“I will be there.”

You are about to turn around and leave, and so is he, when a thought pops into your mind.

“You never told me your name.”

Stars, your voice sounds hoarse.

A second of silence ensues.

“Darth Maul.”

Maul. The name is short and tells you little about the person behind it - it’s very fitting. Not, because it’s short, that is, but because of the cloak of secrecy that surrounds the man.

“Darth Maul… You know, if you’d just offered me to join you instead of threatening me, I probably would have said yes.”

He doesn’t respond, instead staring at you before turning around and leaving the alley.

You close your eyes for a minute when he’s gone, allowing yourself to reflect on what just happened. Your thoughts are spinning, uncertainty nags at you, and there is so much you still need to figure out—

One thing at a time.

First, you need to get to the Concinnity headquarters before they get busy. Training for apprentices starts shortly after sunrise and the first sunbeams are already peeking through the smog.

You leave the alley and pass by the sign that reads “Felicia’s—music and drinks”.

Kriffing hellhole. A detonator went off right next to their building and nobody even bothered to check what’s going on.

“This place is a nightmare,” you mumble to yourself, rubbing your burnt wrist which only now starts to make itself noticed by sending waves of pain through your entire arm.

The headquarters are unsurprisingly empty. You made it there before the apprentices get up, so the only ones who would be there are instructors and other contract killers. People you’ve known for most of your life, or rather been in the presence of—many make use of fake names and as a rule, everyone is cryptic; to a fault. They are people you can never see again after this day.

The Concinnity doesn’t allow members to leave the guild. Once they accept you into their rows, you’re in for the rest of your life, taking over instruction as an elder, but never leaving.

You head straight for the weapon chamber. If you’re leaving anyway, you might as well take something with you, that something being the one weapon you’ve always wanted to use but never been allowed to.

The lightsaber is kept behind a separate lock, making it obvious for anyone that it’s not to be removed without explicit permission. You ponder for a moment, then proceed to punch in the first code that comes to your mind.

The lock hisses as it opens, and you quickly grab the silver handle and shove it inside one of your pockets. Your eyes scan the room as you search for anything else that might be useful for your uncertain future with Darth Maul.

Maybe you should feel bad for taking their property, but then again, in these past few years you’ve contributed more than anyone else in the entire guild. For every job you executed, the Concinnity took 10 percent of the pay—allegedly. You have reason to believe they actually took more, seeing as payment always took place through Magnus, so you never really knew what the client paid—only what Magnus told you they paid. So, in a way, you’re taking what should be yours, right?

The only other thing in the room that catches your interest is some macro binoculars. They’re not special, but since you don’t know what’s lying ahead of you, you decide they could be useful.

With your loot, you leave the chamber and exit the underground complex faster than you ever have. It’s hard to believe this will be the last time you set foot in this place. As a child, you considered this your home, though when you grew up, you realized you were only an asset to the guild, no more, no less. Still, everything you know, you’ve learned here. Everything you are, the way you talk, walk, and breathe has been shaped in this place. It’s all you’ve ever known.

But this chapter of your life is over now, you come to understand. A new future awaits you, a future at the side of a Sith lord. You’ve become part of something bigger, whether you like it or not.

Your next stop is your apartment. It’s a small, worn down place just around the corner from the entrance to the Concinnity, barely big enough to house one person. Bedroom and kitchen are one room, the only other room being the tiny bathroom, not counting the walk-in closet taking up around half of the cramped space. It’s home to all of your gear, including clothing as well as weaponry. You aren’t home very often so you never came around to investing in a nicer place.

Now you’re glad about that.

It takes less than ten minutes to gather your belongings. They fit into one large bag that you can carry over your shoulder, only bringing the essentials: some hygiene products, a couple changes of clothes, two blasters in addition to the ones still on our person, and finally, the small trinkets you have the frowned-upon habit of collecting. They fit into a small pouch.

On top of everything you place some of the gear you’re in right now, your regular mission attire. In the end, you’re left with only your dagger and a blaster on you, everything else packed up and ready to go.

You don’t bother to take one last look at your apartment the way you did at the Concinnity. This place means very little to you and you don’t mind leaving it behind.

Checking the time, you see you still have over an hour left. It won’t be enough to get some sleep, which you could really use, but it will be enough to eat something before you need to go.

You decide to pay a visit to the market place. It’s not a very safe place, robberies and muggings taking place almost daily, and worse things happening behind the counters and under the tables.

Still, there’s good food, probably the only redeemable quality of the planet you hesitate to call home.

When you’re done eating, you decide to finally take off, taking your speeder—technically stolen and not really ‘your speeder’, which makes it all the more easy to abandon it once you are close to the edge of the forest and decide to walk the last bit.

Darth Maul doesn’t leave you waiting for long. He emerges from the woods without making a sound, only saying two words.

“Follow me.”

In a fight like this, it’s a purely defensive weapon.

You hold the light durasteel in your hands and activate the switch, preparing yourself for the first hit, which doesn’t leave you waiting for long.

So you keep going.

Quickly, you realize that, here too, you are backing against a wall and the feeling of being trapped slowly but steadily sets in.

Only, you have no idea how to get close to him without literally being sliced in half.

And slammed into the wall that was previously behind you.

Over your choking, you can hear the sound of his lightsaber retracting as if he has already won.

Your mind is clouded by the lack of oxygen, but the wheels are turning while you are searching your brain for a way, any way at all, you can survive this.

That’s when you get an idea.

Clutching the wall you are pressed against as if to use it to support your weight, you slowly move your outstretched arm closer to your body, closer to your belt.

Your opponent is too preoccupied with choking the life out of you to notice when you remove one of the new circular detonators from your belt.

‘The oval ones explode on impact, the circular ones have a five-second timer’, you remember the lady in the armory telling you.

You gently toss the detonator with a subtle flick of your wrist, mentally counting down the seconds.

4… The detonator is moving excruciatingly slowly, but it’s tumbling the right way.

3… The Sith has yet to notice the approaching threat.

2… The explosive device gets caught on a loose rock lying in the alley, still lying a few feet away from its target

1… You start to lose feeling in your legs, a numbing sensation washing over your body

Your ears are throbbing and your hearing feels muffled when the initial shock subsides, but you feel alive and genuinely hopeful once more.

Your hearing kicks in again and you can hear the Sith getting back on his feet, no doubt following you.

The corner is getting closer, you’re almost there-

An invisible hand is reaching out to you again, this time wrapping around your ankle, and pulls back harshly, making you fall on your face.

The force pulls you back towards him mercilessly and the only thing you can do is turn around so you can at least face the enemy.

You come to a halt a few feet away from him, but suddenly it is like the force is completely covering your body, restraining all movement and effectively locking you in place.

You try to fight against it and free your body, but you just end up panting from the effort, not having moved an inch.

What you can see however is that he is stretching his hand out again, ready to have the force close itself around your throat again.

Panic seeps through every inch of your being. This time, there really is no way out.

Unless?

“Wait,” you press out.

“What?” His voice sounds way too calm for having fought you seconds ago, it’s almost insulting.

“I’ve…” you struggle to get the words out against the grip of the force around you.

Almost imperceptibly, the hold on your jaw loosens.

“I’ve changed my mind. I will… work with you”

You hold your breath. There is little to no guarantee he’ll still accept your late change of heart.

“For me”, is all he says.

“What?”

“You will not work with me. You will work for me.”

“Whatever”, you utter, voice strained. You just want him to spare your life and, for maker’s sake, let go of your body. It feels like every single muscle in you is cramping up.

A second goes by and nothing happens, but then he lets go of you at once.

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth before you can help it, and you slowly crawl back on your feet, getting to face him in a more dignified position now.

For one short moment, you just stare at each other, then, without breaking eye contact, his outstretched hand at his side summons your sword from the other end of the alley.

Spinning it so that the handle points in your direction, he extends his arm towards you.

It’s a strangely conciliatory gesture.

You hesitate one second, hand hovering above the handle, then take your weapon back.

Feeling the familiar leather wrapped around the steel calms you and the panic finally wears off as you return the sword to its place in the scabbard on your back.

“Get what you need to bring and meet me in three hours. I will wait for you east, at the edge of the forest.”

You take a deep breath while letting the realization of what you have gotten yourself into hit you.

“I will be there.”

You are about to turn around and leave, and so is he, when a thought pops into your mind.

“You never told me your name.”

Stars, your voice sounds hoarse.

A second of silence ensues.

“Darth Maul.”

Maul. The name is short and tells you little about the person behind it - it’s very fitting. Not, because it’s short, that is, but because of the cloak of secrecy that surrounds the man.

“Darth Maul… You know, if you’d just offered me to join you instead of threatening me, I probably would have said yes.”

He doesn’t respond, instead staring at you before turning around and leaving the alley.

One thing at a time.

First, you need to get to the Concinnity headquarters before they get busy. Training for apprentices starts shortly after sunrise and the first sunbeams are already peeking through the smog.

You leave the alley and pass by the sign that reads “Felicia’s—music and drinks”.

Kriffing hellhole. A detonator went off right next to their building and nobody even bothered to check what’s going on.

“This place is a nightmare,” you mumble to yourself, rubbing your burnt wrist which only now starts to make itself noticed by sending waves of pain through your entire arm.

The Concinnity doesn’t allow members to leave the guild. Once they accept you into their rows, you’re in for the rest of your life, taking over instruction as an elder, but never leaving.

The only other thing in the room that catches your interest is some macro binoculars. They’re not special, but since you don’t know what’s lying ahead of you, you decide they could be useful.

But this chapter of your life is over now, you come to understand. A new future awaits you, a future at the side of a Sith lord. You’ve become part of something bigger, whether you like it or not.

Now you’re glad about that.

You don’t bother to take one last look at your apartment the way you did at the Concinnity. This place means very little to you and you don’t mind leaving it behind.

Checking the time, you see you still have over an hour left. It won’t be enough to get some sleep, which you could really use, but it will be enough to eat something before you need to go.

You decide to pay a visit to the marketplace. It’s not a very safe place, robberies and muggings taking place almost daily, and worse things happening behind the counters and under the tables.

Still, there’s good food, probably the only redeemable quality of the planet you hesitate to call home.

Darth Maul doesn’t leave you waiting for long. He emerges from the woods without making a sound, only saying two words.

“Follow me.”

------------

next chapter

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A/N: That was chapter 3, hope you guys liked it, feedback is always appreciated :)

@princessayveke

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader

29 notes · View notes

corvid-420 · 5 years

Text

So here’s the situation in a nutshell: i’m long-term unemployed after a labor violation (which i recorded lmao; see readmore) and don’t even have a laptop after I and everyone at a more recent part-time job got fired. also i just found out my bank didn’t let me overdraft to pay the IRS the $226 i owe the little eichmanns for all four thousand dollars of my 2018 income so I owe that, too.

Here’s my PayPal. I’ll also be finishing and posting more content on my Patreon in the coming days. Botnik Strategies is the channel I want to use to teach y’all how to give scheming liberals and their fascist allies a taste of their own treachery; trust me i have experience with that.

Here’s some of the work I’ve done on The New Inquiry, and a case study of how I’ve used the Frankfurt School in strategic communications is here (password is in paypal).

For this to be sustainable and to just find a job I need to actually have a laptop, or at least regular access to the library’s computers which also costs money but with -10 cents on my clipper card, and .16 cents in my bank account with no certainty of income in the future (oh save for 50 bucks for a survey I did, and a 5 dollar starbucks gift card. oppalance!)

My goal of course is to avoid buying American or from any of its suzerainties, not just for political reasons, but that they’re crap (my old Acer is Taiwanese, and Fuck apple more generally; more on the acer below). Most importantly, I need to scrape through long enough to reunite with my husband overseas, and at least try and see family here in California, which I haven’t been able to since my purge.

Thank you all again for your support throughout these times! Even just a reblog and words of support really do help, for as Clausewitz says, the most important element in war is morale, and whether you realize it or not, someone’s already at war with you.

On the day of Trump’s election, the scheming vipers at the Sierra Club finally succeeded in purging me from the organization despite distinguishing myself from my “peers” for having the gall to anticipate trump. I spent literally all of 2016 trying to professionalize their election strategy, aka taking Trump seriously, and approach him as a political professional should, not as a drunken frat boy would just calling him “crazy”.

After Trump won, rather than say, “oh hey, you were right and maybe we should use your skills in some way,” they instead saw me as a liability that would undermine their Russian conspiracy theories and fired me despite my union. The maneuver they resorted to was a shady mode of termination known as an ‘amicable separation’.

They had to resort to this contrivance by maliciously recasting my attempts to optimize campaign strategy as my being “rude” and “unprofessional”. Once these accusations were made, I did relish in the opportunity to be petty, but I did so only once they began accusing me and only after it became clear they were making me jump through hoops rather than take my suggestions seriously throughout the entire year.

And once I realized they weren’t going to reward me for my foresight but punish me for it, I applied my acumen by arming myself with a recording of a meeting with my manager for use in future separation negotiations, which I’m not sharing today out of need and desperation and in possible breach of the crooked deal they forced on me. In this audio, my manager’s low capacity for stratagem has him resorting to saying he loved me while demanding i apologize in violation of my Weingarten rights. The bourgeoisie is always laying a trap... (pw is in paypal, as well).

Note the difference in caliber and approach between my work, and their work, with careful attention to when they were uploaded, and it becomes clear why they plotted to purge me. The meeting in the audio took place the week before Thanksgiving.

Since then I’ve been unemployed, save for a few freelancing gigs. With these and the tireless work of my husband @bumbakvetch I was able to keep shelter for a time in a kitche-nless slum where I contracted H pylori, so things have been worse in some ways, but it’s been a steady decline since.

Most recently I had a gig that I won’t talk shit about until I decide in the coming days whether I’m throwing the Feds at them for firing everyone on staff after they tried to make us sign away unrestricted access to our phones without paying us for using our data for the job (which is illegal, btw).

Point is, since losing that job in March, I haven’t had a functioning laptop. The acer I relied on is breaking at the screen, it shuts off spontaneously even at full battery, it doesn’t always ‘register’ that it’s plugged in so it’s almost always at 20ish percent battery, the keyboard/mouse will often stop responding unless I let it spontaneously shut down or close/reopen the laptop, further degrading the already broken screen, it’s a mess. Here’s a few shots of just the cosmetic deterioration:

the other side is also threatening to fall apart soon, see the lower right corner, that’s a fissure that grows every time I have to close it, though I try not to if I don’t have to.

And if you have ADHD like I do, you know it can crater your productivity to have to spend 10-20 minutes every hour or so to troubleshoot the next problem while looking at the lights constantly to see if the laptop registers that it’s charging, and that’s if the laptop bothers to turn back on at all.

And yes, I’ve tried to fix it many times, but i bought it refurbished so there wasn’t warranty, and tinkering with the motherboard to see if maybe the power jack was just loose didn’t do anything, nor did buying different replacement cables.

I’ll send a picture of my IRS bill or amount owed if anyone has to see it to believe me, but here’s a screenshot of my bank account from this morning:

#long post #donation post

360 notes · View notes

crewhonk · 5 years

Text

Of The Line (7)

REBLOG THIS CHAPTER TO STAY ON THE TAG LIST!!!!

Summary: The team take to Sokovia, and everything begins to unravel for YN

Warnings: fluff, everything that comes with fights, minor character death, YN and Steve make plans for a future they may never have, Gio and YN are badass, Pietro is a darling flirt

Words: 3K (she lied like a liar)

Songs: Seven Nation Army-- white stripes, Survivor (2we remix), what’s up danger-- blackway, m.A.A.d city-- Kendrick Lamar

AN: PLEASE, PLEASE COMMENT AND LIKE AND REBLOG OUR WORK! We’re getting a little discouraged due to the recent lack of notes on this series!

Till The End Masterlist / Of The Line Masterlist

________________________________________

The water dripped from the ceiling onto the stone floors of the basement, and YN’s skin erupted with goosebumps at the chill of the dungeon. Her, Giovanna and Bruce were walking down the stairs looking for Natasha desperately— the plan was simple. Help her dad find Natasha, make sure they got to safety and then return to the mainland to help the team fight Ultron.

“Natasha!” YN shouted into the empty room. Giovanna mimicked her call and it was only when her dad called for Nat that she responded.

“Guys?” She called out and they all sprinted towards the sound. Natasha was locked into an actual cell, bars and all, and YN and Giovanna rushed to them, clutching them in their hands and helping Natasha to her feet. She seemed tired but overall relatively healthy.

“You okay?” Giovanna almost sobbed, reaching through a gap in the bars and pulling her closer. YN did so too, needing her other best friend close after all the worry of her being kidnapped.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She whispered, voice raspy.

“The team's in the city, it's about to light up,” YN informed her and Natasha clenched her jaw, rolled her shoulders and nodded. “Civilians are being evacuated as we speak and Dad’s gonna take you out of here to safety.”

“Job's not finished.”

“You guys could help with the evacuation, but dad can't be in a fight near civilians. And you've done plenty. Your fight is over.” YN reassured and Natasha dropped her head in relief.

“I’m so tired. Did you find a key anywhere?”

“Yeah, I did.” Bruce piped up and YN and Giovanna squealed and ran when he held up a gun the size of his torso. He blasted the lock away and YN bumped his shoulder.

“I knew you were just as crazy as I was.”

“Where do you think you got it from?”

____________________

The sky was falling. Literally, rocks were falling on them and dust was in their eyes and YN needed an inhaler because she just couldn’t breathe. Giovanna had summoned her suit and was protecting the other three as well as she could, but it didn’t stop a few rocks from striking any of them in the head or shoulder.

“We gotta move.” She grunted as a rather large slab of cement broke over her shoulders.

YN turned to her dad whose eyes were darting around anxiously. “You’re not gonna turn green?” She asked. She could feel her own skin start filling with gamma ad=nd the muscles in her body begin to grow— she didn’t know how he did it. They came upon a cavern int their search for a flight of stairs, and they ran put to the edge of a hole to see if there was any way out.

“I've got a compelling reason not to lose my cool.” He looked down at his baby girl and she smiled fondly.

"I adore you.” She whispered, cupping his cheek and ignoring the way her heart was beating in her throat. “But I need the other guy.”

And with that, she shoved her own father over the edge and turned her eyes away from the hole, not needing to see her fathers body hit the ground. That didn’t, however, brace her for the sound of him landing and then a dull, confused roar echoing in their ears.

There was the sound of two dustbin lid-sized feet hitting the ground and YN turned to see The Big Guy grinning down at her. She smiled despite herself— whenever Big Guy decided to show his face to her, he was almost as threatening to her as a golden retriever was.

“Hey, bud.” She forced a smile on her face and he smiled back, not realizing that YN’s was very much fake.

“Let’s go be heroes.” She said, taking Giovanna’s free hand (the other was already holding on to Natasha) and blasted off through the glass ceiling.

______________

Natasha was dropped off as soon as they hit the flying city— not having much will or practice to be hanging from Giovanna as she flew one hundred kilometres an hour through the air. Giovanna took YN to one of the back streets— a place of the town that seemed to be mostly populated by the robot minions, and dropped YN on the ground.

“Do we know how to shut them down?” YN asked, pulled a gun from her thigh holster and shooting an incoming droid in the neck, blowing it apart. “Like that, I guess.” She hummed.

“Steve said we had to take out all of them so He didn’t get away,” Giovanna grunted as she blasted through ten more robots.

“He does realise only like, three of us can fly, right?” YN jumped off of a wrecked car and onto the back of a flying robot, tearing its head off with her bare hands. She crashed back to the ground and held her bleeding fingers to her chest.

“Yeah, but he also realizes we’re too stubborn to let that stop us.” Giovanna replied, motioning for her to turn her comm systems to the main channel. YN did and was immediately greeted with a grunt from Steve. Giovanna laughed loudly at the expression on YN’s face.

“Happy you could join the party.” Steve gasped. There was the sound of crunching metal and then him huffing out another breath of air.

“You really do have skewed versions of what a party is, don’t you?” Natasha replied.

“Awe, family reunion! This is cute.” YN cooed playfully, reloading her pistol and firing three more times. There was a crash of a door and an arrow barely skimmed the tip of YN’s nose and plunged into the eye socket of a robot crawling its way towards her. Her head whipped around to see Clint join them from a building to their left.

“Watch where you’re pointing that thing, will you?” YN shouted, heart racing fast in her chest. Clint shrugged and knocked another arrow.

“I never miss, you know that.” He smiled.

“You did that one time—“ Giovanna teased above them, landing on a car a few feet away and firing at a hoard of droids.

“Yeah it was one time, and I was blackout drunk. Can we not bring that up? Nat okay?”

“Natasha is stubborn and more of a fighter than any of us will ever be,” YN replied, half sarcastic.

“She’s still fighting isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Just as she spoke, thirty more droids flew down on them, firing their blasters and Giovanna covered YN’s body just in time to shield her from a small incoming missile. They were both thrown back against an already partially crushed car, and YN swore she could feel her ribs crack at the impact.

“Christ.” YN gasped once the air filled her lungs again. She shrunk down as Giovanna soared up once more, and when she went to grab more ammunition, her hand clasped on her empty belt.

“Uh— guys, I’m out already,” YN said into her comms to no avail— the team was already overwhelmed themselves. “Okay, fine, I’ll do this myself.” She whined and pulled her Widow batons from her thighs and turned them on— the thrum of electricity making the hair on her arms stand on end.

“Well,” Giovanna grunted as she was thrown hard into the ground, creating a 5 foot 3 crater around her body. “I’m officially overwhelmed.”

Just as YN was about to attack one of the droids with a fancy stick, one of the building doors crashed open and they were surrounded by an odd red mist. It wrapped around their limbs gently, protecting them as it also tore the robots limb from limb— arms and legs and torsos flying every which way.

YN turned to see Wanda storm out, her eyes glowing red and a determined snarl on her face. She manipulated the red mist easily, and YN was filled with an immediate sense of relief as she stood and watched the forty-some robots die in front of their eyes.

“Have I ever told you that it’s great to meet you?” YN asked as she walked closer. The girl, instead of smirking and saying something that would probably come out of her brother's mouth, frowned and stood in front of her sheepishly.

“I am sorry I got into your head like that. That was not fair play.” And YN’s heart swelled at her words. She threw her arm around the teenage girl's shoulder and gave her a comforting one-armed hug.

“It’s all good. There’s no room for fair play when you feel like your life is in danger.” YN smiled softly and Wanda held her chin higher than she was.

“Sorry to interrupt the sap fest,” Giovanna sighed as she stumbled over to the pair. “But this isn’t a movie, we don’t have time to have ‘feeling talks’ right now. Let’s go play dirty, yeah?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Clint joined them, then— pressing one finger to his ear and calling the team. “All clear on the East side of the city.”

“We are not clear!” Steve sounded like he was in pain, and there was a grunt from him. YN looked frantically to Giovanna who seemed to understand and reached out her hand, ready to take off to drop YN off to help Steve. “We are very not clear!”

“On our way, Cap.” YN rushed and gripped Giovanna’s arm just in time for her to be scooped up into someone’s arms. She looked up and saw Pietro smiling down at her, his silver hair haloed by the hot sun above him and a twinkle in his eyes that suggested they were not in any sort of battle at all.

“Climb on, Monkey.” He said to Wanda and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s go save your Captain.” And then he sped off.

____________________

She was dropped off on the opposite end of the city too quickly, and Pietro let her down slowly, making sure she got her footing right before letting her go. YN smiled briefly at him before running and sliding on her knees to stick her head in a bush and throw up at the G’s they had seemed to pull in his haste to move quickly.

“We are never doing that again— wait, have you gotten shot already?” YN panted as she looked disbelievingly at Pietro's bleeding arm. She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, using the torn piece fo fabric to wipe the corners of YN’s mouth.

“You will get used to it.” He winked, and he looked down at his shoulder— the wound no more than a mere scratch now. “And it didn’t hurt that much. Not as much as your punch.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Maximoff.” YN smiled and scoped the edge of the city for Steve and Natasha.

“I have a few places in mind.” He murmured before running off and leaving YN a breathless, red mess in the middle of the street. Wanda walked up beside her and nudged her.

“I have never seen someone give Piet a run for his money in the flirting department. They always turn bright red and blubber words until he loses interest.” She smiled and watched the blue blur that was her brother run back and forth across the plaza in front of them. YN could only huff out a self-satisfied breath and begin jogging to the nearest crashing commotion.

________________

“Captain! Steve!” YN coughed through the dust where her tracker said he was. He could hear cries of pain and worried voices of the locals muttering not far and she yelped when he came hurtling out of the smoke— not seeing her and not stopping quite in time. He caught her forearms as she was sent spiralling backwards and pulled her to him, making sure she was free of wounds before letting her go. He let out a surprised huff when she curled her arms around his neck and buried her face in the spot behind his ear.

“I’m happy you’re alive.” She whispered before pulling back. He was grateful his face was so dirty that she was unable to see his blush on his face. God, she made him feel like he was fourteen again trying to even get close to making eye contact with Marriette O’Connell in ninth grade.

“I’m happy you’re alive, too.” He replied, seemingly awestruck. Instead of saying just how happy he was to see her, there was a scream from the distance and he pulled away, speaking once more into his comms.

“Guys, we’re leading the civilians to the town hall. Try to meet us there.” She took Wanda’s hand and pulled her along after Steve who was stumbling through the debris of fallen buildings.

Giovanna, Natasha and Clint were there already, and Natasha raised her eyebrows at the sight of Wanda wearing her favourite red jacket.

“That’s my jacket.” She commented and Wanda shifted nervously.

“She’s with us,” Steve replied.

“Still doesn’t explain the jacket.”

“There are still civilians hiding in the buildings.” Wanda was not looking at any of them, but at the buildings around them, her eyes glowing that familiar red.

“The airs getting thin,” YN panted, leaning against one of the pillars holding the building up. “If we go much higher, we’re going to start dropping like flies.”

“Okay,” Steve said, anxiety in his voice at YN’s expression of discomfort. He looked at Wanda. “Get them here, Barton, cover her six.”

“And what do we do?” Giovanna asked.

“We fight robots.” He replied, and YN nodded breathlessly as Natasha handed her a few magazines of ammunition.

“Thank you.” She whispered and steeled herself before pushing off the pillar, stumbling a little and catching herself.

“Fight robots?” Pietro appeared seemingly out of thin air, handing Steve a disconnected metal arm and walking over to YN. He looked her up and down as if looking for any injury since she left him and nodded once he found she was just slightly breathless from the altitude.

“Take it easy, Sweet Girl.” He hummed and brushed her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers. Her eyelids fluttered slightly and she straightened up to her full height.

“No promises.” She replied, forcing a charming smile on her face. He mirrored it and patted her shoulder twice.

“That is my girl.” He swaggered back to Steve whose jaw was clenched and whose eyes were filled with nothing but loathing. “We fight robots today, yeah?” He asked before jetting off once more. Steve bristled in his wake and without sparing YN a single glance, took off into the battle once more.

_______________________

The battle went about the same— fists through metal breastplates and broken knuckles and tired grunts. YN, Natasha and Steve all held down the east side of the town hall without too much struggle and when there was a slight reprieve from the crashing of vibranium, YN and Natasha leaned against a car, trying their best to catch their breath.

The altitude was taking its toll on the girls, and they were dizzy and short of breath to the point that fighting for more than thirty seconds rendered them almost useless.

Natasha was joined shortly by Steve who looked out over the tops of the clouds and sighed. “The next wave's gonna hit any minute. What have you got, Stark?”

“Well, nothing great. Maybe a way to blow up the city. That'll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear.” Tony sounded anxious— this was nothing more than a plan to abandon their work, and if Tony of all people was planning on cutting something like this short than there may have been no other solution. YN walked over to Steve and Natasha took his other side, joining him.

“I asked for a solution, not an escape plan,” Steve replied, voice short. YN put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, making him look at her. Immediately, the tension left his shoulders when he saw her wide, sad eyes.

“This is the solution, Stevie. We both know this rock isn’t going to come down pretty— the less damage Tony can do, the better.” She murmured and he shook his head stubbornly, making YN roll her eyes.

“Cap, these people are going nowhere. If Stark finds a way to blow this rock—“ Natasha started but Steve cut her off with a hard glare.

“Not 'til everyone's safe.”

Natasha could have snarled out of frustration. “Everyone up here versus everyone down there? There's no math there!” She half-shouted, and YN peeked around Steve’s shoulder, nodding her head and telling Natasha that it was time for her to give the pair some alone time. Natasha glowered at Steve before turning and stomping away.

“I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it.” He said to YN, voice softer and lacking the Captain gusto. YN sighed, and threw all caution to the wind, taking off her glove and shucking off his own before wrapping her hand around his, intertwining their fingers and making his breath stutter in his chest.

“She didn’t say we should leave it, Steve.” She whispered loud enough for him to hear over the wind. He blinked, and a flash of fear crossed his face.

“No, YN. I can’t— you’re so young you have such a life to live.” He said, turning to her. She smiled sadly and shook her head. Her free hand reached up to wipe away some blood dripping from a gash on his cheekbone.

Without looking away from him, she smiled and her eyes filled with tears, they flickered down to his lips once before going back to his crystal blue ones. “There are worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?” She sighed and despite his heartbreaking in his chest, he felt his stomach flip.

“There’s so much you have to see.” His voice cracked and she let a few tears trail their paths through the dirt on her face.

“Tell me about them.”

“The Alps.” He replied immediately. “Not the Swiss ones, the French ones. In the summer. It gets so hot there but the breeze coming off the mountains is the most refreshing thing. I’d show you everywhere me and Bucky went and I would tell you stories about the things we did. You would have liked Bucky— you both have the exact same temperament and nerdiness about you.” He tried to crack a smile but it just came off as a painful grimace.

She choked out a half-laugh and stepped closer. “I think I would like to take you to Peru. The mountains there are gorgeous and we could have lunch at Machu Picchu. Take a picnic or something and feed the Alpacas even though you’re really not supposed to. Dad took me there when I was ten— we saved a lot of lives there.”

He hummed and his free hand cupped the side of her neck, tracing over the line of her jaw and hovering over a bruise swelling there.

“You picked a place, and I picked a place. Where’s one place you haven’t been to, yet?” He whispered.

“I haven’t been to Athens, yet. Gio went last year alone because I that pneumonia.” She said, and he chuckled.

“You’re like a baby when you’re sick. But yeah, I haven’t been to Athens. Maybe we can make our own memories and stories.”

“I would like that,” YN whispered, more tears falling from her eyes. He ducked his head and just as his nose was about to touch her own, there was crackling over their comm system ad a deep voice echoed in their ears.

“How about I give you the chance to actually do those things and keep it out of everyone's head?” Nick Fury’s voice echoed and Steve jumped away just in time to watch as the largest airbase they had ever seen fly into sight.

“Fury, you son of a bitch.” Steve cursed, half annoyed that his moment with YN was interrupted but relieved neither of them was going to die. Pietro popped up beside the two of them and Steve made to take a side step further away from YN, remembering how much she had been flirting with the boy only half an hour before.

“Oooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury joked and YN could have cried at the right of flying lifeboats coming to land on the edge of the city.

“This is SHIELD?” Pietro wondered in awe.

“This is what SHIELD's supposed to be.” YN and Steve echoed, in equal amazement.

“This is not so bad.”

"Let's load 'em up.”

______________________

Evacuating the city was easy enough— the citizens all wanted to get the hell out so it was only a matter of dividing the people into groups of 200 and then making sure nobody was trampled. They were all called tot he cathedral in the centre of the city soon after, and fighting the robots all together in order to protect the drill was epic in its own mind, despite neither Tony, YN or Giovanna had time or breath to make witty, sarcastic comments as they worked with the rest of the team to deplete Ultron’s bodies.

Then, Giovanna, Vision, Thor, and Tony all put their full blast onto Ultron before Bruce had punted him no less than a mile away.

“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats, I'll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you.” Steve gasped as he watched anyone who could fly take off after the robots. YN nodded.

“I’ll stay with you, then.” She said and he looked at her. His expression was one of annoyance, protectiveness and amusement.

“You will get your ass onto one of those lifeboats or else—“

“Or else what?”

“Just to it, Banner,” Steve commanded and YN rolled her eyes, turning and going to walk away before facing him once more. She pulled him into a hug, and kissed the side of his neck adoringly, and he flushed red and buried his face into the side of her head.

“Come back safe, Steve,” YN whispered into his ear and he allowed the shiver he would have repressed under any other circumstance to shake his spine.

“I will always come back to you, YN.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

_____________________

“Dad!” YN shouted as she hopped out of the back of the racer Clint and Natasha had found. He was in a park, tearing the slide in two when she found him, and he looked at her and growled, throwing the plastic the ground and stepping on it so it lay flat against the gravel.

She put his extra clothes on a bench she passed and walked over to her dad, hands out. He looked at her, and Big Guy seemed to recognize her. He stepped forward and YN smiled encouragingly.

“You did amazing things, today Dad. You were a hero. How about you shrink down for a bit and when we get home I’ll make some cheesecake? We can eat the whole thing in the lab if you want.” YN started talking and she could see the green fling from Hulks skin.

“And you can even wear your cartoon T-Shirts and I won’t even tease you about it? Maybe I can wear one and we can match, okay?” YN continued, and just as she held out her hand to wrap around one of his fingers, there was the sound of gunfire, a splitting pain at the spot just above her kidney and then black.

______________________

YN woke up the sound of steady beeping— slow, but steady. The room she was in was filled with sunlight— she could see it through her closed eyelids, and someone was playing the most recent Tame Impala album. There was the smell of flowers, floating around, but the scent wasn’t strong enough to cover up the equally strong scent of cleaner and antiseptic.

She grunted and lolled her head to the side to find a freshly showered, tired-looking Giovanna.

“You look like shit.” YN’s voice was raspy and Giovanna’s head shot up so fast YN was surprised she didn’t sway in her seat.

“You’re alive!” She whisper-shouted, voice thick with emotion. Giovanna immediately stood from her pouty chair she was sitting in by the open window and motioned for YN to move over so she could sit by her hips, facing her. There was a hint of dread in her face, and YN’s monitor picked up.

“What happened.” YN deadpanned and Giovanna dropped her gaze nervously. “Who died?”

“YN I’m so sorry—“ Giovanna whispered, and YN’s heart monitor beeped louder. She tried to push herself onto her elbows, but she had been out so long her muscles were weak with exhaustion.

“Who. Died.”

“Pietro. He died saving Clint and this kid.” Giovanna’s voice was barely audible but YN heard it as if the girl had screamed the words.

“No. No, no, no, no, no— he can’t— he couldn’t. No.” YN found herself finding it harder and harder to breathe, and it looked like Giovanna was biting her tongue to stop more bad news from spilling out.

“I’m so sorry, YN— Dios mío.” She whispered as she pressed an oxygen mask to YN’s face. She waited thirty seconds before pulling it away.

“Something else happened.” YN gasped, pressing the oxygen to her face again, and Giovanna started crying. She leaned over YN’s body and pressed her face to her chest.

“YN, please— I don’t—“ Giovanna whimpered and YN lay frozen, making no move to comfort her like she would have normally— the dread in her body seemed to paralyze her bones.

“What, Gio?”

“Your dad— he’s. He’s missing. There hasn’t been any contact with him for a week. We had to keep you sedated so your gunshots and ribs would heal faster, but we couldn’t— YN no, you can’t get up—“

“I need to find him. Only I can find him. He must be— he has to be so scared and only I can find him and calm him down.” YN rushed, pulling censors off of her chest and arms and tearing out IV’s.

“YN no, he’s gone. There’s no trace of him on the planet.” Giovanna rushed around and pushed YN back, making her weakened body tumble back onto the bed.

“Dad’s gone?” YN whimpered, and Giovanna’s heart broke as how small her best friend looked. Instead of replying, Giovanna pulled YN to her and let the girl cry big, heaving sobs into her stomach for hours. Only until YN’s voice disappeared and she swayed in her seat was Giovanna able to push her back to the bed and pull the blankets around her chin.

“I’m so sorry, Bubs.”

______________________

It was another two weeks later YN was released on all basis— her wound had healed perfectly, and while it still shattered her that both Pietro and her father had disappeared from her life, YN continued to repress the fears that her dream had surfaced. Giovanna wouldn’t leave her. Steve wouldn’t leave her. She could place the rest of her bets on them— she had lost the bet on her father, but two-thirds were still pretty good odds, right?

Outside of the compound, Steve and Tony were walking.

“I will miss you, Tony.” Steve clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder and Tony nodded, looking out to the window where YN and Giovanna had their arms wrapped around the other, watching from YN’s physical therapy session. Tony wouldn’t be gone long, and the girls would be able to visit him anytime they wished— it was Steve and Natasha he wouldn’t be seeing for a while— they both had work to do.

"Yeah? Well, it's time for me to tap out. Maybe I should take a page out of Barton's book and build Pepper and Giovanna a farm, hope nobody blows it up.” Tony turned back to Steve and smiled wistfully. Steve raised his eyebrows.

“The simple life,” Steve commented, and Tony huffed a laugh.

“You'll get there one day,” Tony replied, jutting his chin in the direction of the compound. Steve followed the motion and his eyes set on YN who had yet to let the sadness in her eyes leave since she woke up.

“I don't know, family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out.” Steve sighed, turning away from the woman of his dreams and back to Tony who rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“I see the way you look at my niece, Rogers.” Tony’s voice was hard. “It’s okay to not want all that domestic life with nobody else but one person.”

Steve was quiet and he dared a brief glance put to YN and Giovanna who were starting to turn back into the gym— YN using crutches and Giovanna hovering closely.

“She’s good. She’s too good for someone like me— I’ve done things that would make her horrified to even know me.” He sighed. “She’s so young, too— and I don’t want her to have to settle early enough for what I want in life.”

Tony rubbed his eyes but remained patient.

“Rogers, you are the best man I’ve ever met besides myself. And she truly doesn’t want anyone else but the man who is too stubborn to admit that you are both perfect for each other. Fuck the rules, Steve. Be a little selfish.”

Steve chuckled despite the irritation growing in his chest. “There are rules for a reason, Tony. Maybe it’s just best for everyone if they’re followed.”

Tony began to climb into his car, and he poked his head out to lower his glasses and glared at Steve. “Everyone but the two people who it doesn’t, right?”

“I’ll keep in touch, Tony.”

“Take care of my girls, Rogers! Or you’ll have me to answer to!” Tony yelled as he pressed his foot to the gas pedal, and Steve only shook his head and watched Tony drive off until he turned the bend and disappeared from sight.

____________________

Taglist (must reblog at least three chapters, send an ask to be added): buckybarneshairpullingkink / staringmoony / through-the-crevices / highladyofasgard / @i-am-always-famished / @filia-sapientiae / @somekryptonitewriting / @fashionlive15 / @godlymissbalor / @fanfictionjunkie1112 / @nerdy-bookworm-1998 / @songforhema / @army-crawl-andersen / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @shynara51 / @deathofmissjackson / @a–1–1–3 / @liffydaze / @shymarvelfannanni / @freakpotterfan / @callie-bear15 / @sunflower-borhap-boys / @criedwolfwritings/ @vxidnik / @captainomad / @lazinessisalliknow / jjlevin / @gwlaxygirl / liaswhorable / @notyourtypicalrose / @madlymadzzz

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers series #Steve Rogers smut #rogers series #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x banner!reader #Bucky Barnes x stark!reader #Bucky Barnes x stark!oc

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pocmothon · 4 years

Text

PTSD? Aftermath.

When Brexit was announced, we were living in far northwest Scotland, my native country. My husband, Frans, is Belgian, and permanently disabled, receiving the disability income I’m included upon as carer from there. So we never cost the UKgovernment a penny. But UKgov, after deciding on Brexit, also decided to not take those in our situation into account. And refused to co sign the Reciprocal Agreement necessary for exporting of such benefits.

So *that* means, Frans can’t live in Scotland any more. In fact this was the case even before Brexit happened, as De Voorzorg, the authority that pays the disability income, gave us a deadline of April 1st 2019 to leave Scotland or lose our sole income.

So I began to fight, to remain in our home, to remain as a whole family. DWP wouldn’t even help us. UKgov wouldn’t even respond. Scottish government said their hands were tied (cowardice on behalf of all those in our situation, the most vulnerable, the disabled) and the Belgian authorities wouldn’t budge..unless UKgov co signed, they wouldn’t provide the income.

I approached many MSP’s, MP’s and authorities in Scotland, England and Belgium. I still have the correspondence from them all. It will go into the book I’m writing, telling the story of how Brexit affected one disabled family and nobody gave a damn.

Two years I fought, and fought, publicly (articles in The Observer and iScot magazine and actively on Twitter, Facebook and blogging) and privately, through email after email, phone call after phone call. All the time knowing nobody gave a shite about the disabled or their families. In fact knowing that it was, back then, EXACTLY as it is now...for the British, ONLY those worth money are welcome in Britain, if they are non native Brits.

But this was my *family*...and we were being torn apart by Brexit before it even happened. I even tried to see if we could move, as a family, to my husband’s Belgium. They said No. Refused me residency as, because Brexit was so close, I was treated as a test case Post-Brexit “Brit” (they are seemingly unable to tell the the difference between the English who voted to Leave and a Scot who voted to Remain...) so I was given a Temporary Leave to Stay which ran out last September, which is when we returned to Scotland..and the daughter we’d to leave behind (no passport, no cash, no time). Afterwords I was given an apology, by phone, to my husband..not me..but still no Residency.

And so here we are, applying for residency in the Irish Republic and hoping with all our hearts they’ll say yes. Because if not, there is literally no where else we can go. We haven’t the cash to country-hop. There is nowhere else we’d be likely to be allowed to live. Frans would have to return to Belgium, and myself and Alice? We’d probably kill ourselves before we’d return to post Brexit Britain, given how they are treating both Scots and transgender folks there now.

So, it’s a stressful situation. And it is telling. Nightmares, night after night after night. Never ending, all the same “theme”. You can probably guess what.

Health issues..both my husband’s disability has worsened and led to new health problems, and my own health issues have worsened (particularly the depression) and Alice, who has Asperger’s Syndrome, has become more insular and reclusive than ever.

We *need* a happy ending..the security of knowing that we have a country we CAN call Home, one that nobody will threaten to throw us out of. We need to be settled, to know we can stay.

Some mornings, when I sit in front of the fire, looking around at this beautiful wee cottage, I begin to feel comfortable then realise that if our request for residency is refused, we’ll be torn apart as a family, and at least two of us likely won’t survive. That’s no exaggeration.

Because, I can’t take anymore.

Someone, somewhere, needs to do some research on the impact of Brexit on those like us, those the governments involved never gave a thought to..the ones who aren’t “money-valuable” to the economy. Someone, somewhere, needs to know the cost of Brexit on the most vulnerable. The true cost. The one that is lasting, still, in nightmares and failing health, in depressions, anxiety and suicidal thoughts.

But, in the end I guess folks not worth cash income aren’t important enough for that, huh?

#Brexit #Scotland #Belgium #England #Disability #Suicide #Health Issues #No Help

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sadbastardhour · 5 years

Text

i want to jsut tell cheryl that I HAVE a job but like I know itll do shit? Like no amtter what she’s always been so hard headed, and let alone to hear I got hired on by the lady who cleans for the place I quit from. Still dont have my checks adn still being ghosted and I hate it. I want my two checks and at least 400 are being kept from me and cheryl thinks I deserve to be punished. I dont know who to call either but hopefully Rita will help and that Sasha can too. She threatened to kick me and brody out again because brody left a cup of water out, she knocked it over, and she had a literal minor melt down. She screamed at me about that shes a deeply caring mother while I was cleaning a literal puddle of blood out of my shoe, then called me weak for saying ‘ow’ when I sat on my knee gashes by accident. If I get kicked out then I guess jokes on her..? Im moving in a few months, and I hate what Im leaving behind. I hate how much six months has changed in me as well as my surroundings. Things were supposed to be better and I would have friends and a family but I am. Alone. Not to discredit those I have been making relationships with, but its the stark contrast of suddenly having your friend who is such a heavy part of your future and present die, losing your fp/qpp of eight years, only source of income dissolve/quit, drop out, being cut off and faught over, and just. More jesus christ I hate it. I usually write in a journal of letters that I never send, but here felt oddly more fitting since I havent had the energy to sit down with it. Ive been pushing out applications anyways and I really doubt people would read this far down since usually I short-fire things because thats how the brain works here. These past few days have been shit and they will continue to be shit from things I cant avoid. I want to indulge in my interests but they keep getting fucked and torn apart then rebuilt then torn again and I hate it. I just want to enjoy something. Kat liked good omens I found out which hurts, and then through a mix of indviduals who i know and used to know keep turning up and. I cant get into anything. I hate being ‘okay’ for less than a few hours. its really not going to get better??

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sp4c3-0ddity · 5 years

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Fantasy Bodygauard?

WIP Ask Meme

ha it’s been a while since i touched this one so let’s see...

well, it was a fun exercise in worldbuilding, at least in magic, at first. basically...knowledge that, if you held it and it was bestowed on you willingly by someone else who “held” it, it granted you some innate ability for magic (although “magic” was a learned skill so anyone - except Lance and his family until Circumstances happen, for reasons - could do it...but the Real Strong Stuff is not accessible to everyone)

the Guardian Spirits (you know, Lions) “guarded” the world and protected it from the Rift, but when the danger abated they went to sleep (except for Green, who lived among humans for a time before sleeping...and so Pidge is actually a descendant of Green’s which contributes to her near-prodigious ability for some branches of magic...and except for Black, which is more...Significant ha). but the longer they sleep the more their influence over the world fades...

i forgot how much thought i put into the worldbuilding in this...even the Blades and Krolia have roles

and now for some PLOT

Pidge and Lance are on the run after Lance is under suspicion of killing Blaytz, a distant relative of his (Important and Significant) and a friend of King Alfor’s. incidentally, Alfor is well-aware Lance Did Not Do It, but he was put under arrest anyway for his own protection since...well, Blaytz gave Lance some Magic Knowledge (knowledge is literally power) about something Very Important (the Lions, basically) which kind of made him a target too

enter Pidge, the Bodyguard with an agenda of her own, who decides to break Lance free because she suspects that the reason he came to the capital (he’s from a minor noble family and their lands have been dying and dead for generations) is the same reason as her father and brother disappeared. common line??

the Galra are coming!! but also...there’s some dark magic nature corruption things that may or may not have been inspired by the Blight in Wheel of Time going on

anyway they travel in that direction disguised as a bard and his apprentice (which Pidge resents but goes with it anyway) while being chased by Keith and Shiro (on orders of the king since Lance is technically an escapee) as well as a suspicious warlock (Sendak)...

so here, have the entire first (and very unrefined since i never edited it properly...and displays my very bad habit of abandoning fics) chapter!! oh shoot it’s ~3500 words

Lance shuffled the deck of cards betweenhis hands, the hiss of paper filling the otherwise silent and too-emptybarroom. Even the bartender froze, the rag with which he’dbeen cleaning a glass hanging limp from his fingers as he watched.

Pidgecouldn’thelp scoffing from her place near the entry. It was only a paltry card trick,one she’d seen more times than she could count. It fascinated her the first fewtimes, but once she puzzled out the method, she learned to spot it as nothing morethan sleight of hand.

Itwasn’treal magic, anymore than Lance was a realsorcerer. But he could play the part, almost as well as Pidge played hers.

“Is this your card?” Lance asked the burly,bearded man sitting across the table from him. He brandished the queen ofhearts, an expectant smirk on his face

Theman, a lone mercenary Pidge guessed by his rugged appearance and the “sword”hanging from his belt, gaped at Lance. “How did you do that?” he demanded.

“Ah, but a magician never reveals hissecrets.” Lance tucked the card back into the deck, then collected the coinsthe man had offered as a bet - that Lance would be the one duped.

Pidgerolled her eyes. Didn’t they know any better?

Thebearded man stood, grumbling under his breath as he trooped past Pidge and outthe tavern door. Meanwhile a few other occupants eyed Lance - or, more likely,the growing pile of coins at his elbow.

“How about another game?” Lance asked theroom at large. He smiled disarmingly and gestured to the seat opposite him. “Winnertakes the pot.”

Pidgetapped her foot, irritated and tempted to interrupt the game. The way many ofthe tavern’srough denizens eyed that money sent a shiver of foreboding up her spine, andshe didn’t like how emptythe tavern was, how eager thebartender was for business that he would let Lance so openly hustle hiscustomers.

“No one?” Lance glanced around the room,meeting the eyes of a tall man wearing an eye patch. “Maybe you have a chance at this gold.”

(Likeany of this tavern’s patrons could afford to throw gold coins into fake magictricks…)

Theman in the eye patch smiled…though the menacing look of it chilledPidge, her hand wandering to the hilt of the knife at her belt almost of itsown accord. “Maybe I do,” said the man.

“Lance…” Pidge muttered as the new playertook the seat Lance offered him.

Lance,too far to hear her, dealt three cards face up on the table. “Getthree, take the pot,” he explained, “and if you lose three, I keep the pot. Deal?”He extended his hand to the man.

Theman’ssmile didn’t falter as he shook Lance’s hand - and Pidge couldn’t help noticinghow his larger hand almost engulfed Lance’s. “Deal.”

“Now track the ace,” Lance said, pointingto it and grinning. Then his hands moved, shuffling the three cards on thetable. “Pick the ace.”

Theplayer tapped a card, and Lance turned it over to reveal the ace.

“Think you can get one more?” he wondered.

Theplayer flashed his teeth, the canines pointier than a human’sshould be, as he sneered. “Shuffle them again.”

Lanceraised an eyebrow at the command and said, “All right, whatever you say, sir.”

“Not a ‘sir’,” the man pointed out as Lanceswitched the three cards around. “Only a man trying to do good by his king.”

“Aren’t we all,” Lance mumblednoncommittally.

Pidgesnorted and grumbled, “You’re not.”

Lanceglanced up as soon as those words escaped her mouth, almost as if he heard her.Their eyes met, and he nodded his head at the man in front of him.

Pidgenarrowed her eyes at him, uncertain what he was telling her, but before shecould take a cautious step towards them, the player selected a card.

“Oh, but you’ve found the queen,” Lance announced with a smile thatapproximated regret. “Try again, if you wish.”

Pidgecrept closer, for she’d seen thisparticular hustle countless times and knew that its victims, robbed of coin,often swore violence. Though they rarely resorted to it, something about thisman and the menace in his smile made her wary.

“Without shuffling?” he said.

“I’m feeling generous,” Lance told himcheerfully.

Theman hummed thoughtfully and poked the middle card.

Lanceturned it over and grimaced when it revealed a king. “I’msorry to say that you lose.” He collected the cards already facing up.

Theplayer flipped the final card to show off a jack. “Youcheated,” he accused Lance.

“Huh, that is curious,” Lance agreed,prodding the jack. “I swear by the Guardian Spirits I thought I laid an ace.”

Pidgebit her lip and wished, not for the first time, that their limited income didn’trely on blatant cons.

“Well,” he continued as if the player’ssingle eye didn’t twitch with frustration or worse, “I am a man of my word, soI must take my winnings.” Lance shoveled the small pile of coins into a pouch,then made to grab the card.

Theplayer stuck a knife through it, pinning it to the table. “Ithink not.”

Ahush fell over the tavern, the air filling with tension. The patrons’attention instantly changed from curious and wondering to wary.

Pidgelurched forward, casting a dizzying spell at him as she stepped between him andLance. Without looking she nudged Lance behind her while the man reeled away,clutching his head.

“Is there a problem?” she demanded when herecovered.

“You need a child to protect you?” the mansneered, staring at Lance over Pidge’s shoulder.

“I’m a wizard, not a child,” Pidge fired back while she glared up athim. But her heart pounded in her chest, because from this proximity she could smell the magic on the man - corrupted magic, something hot and acridlike fresh smoke. And if he threatened Lance - or her - with all his power,Pidge would be forced to draw on all of hers.

Somuch for subtlety. She could killLance for this.

“All right, let’s settle down.” Lance resteda hand on Pidge’s shoulder, stepping around her. “You needn’t overreact, kindsir. It was just a simple card game.”

“You hustled me,” the man accused almostnonchalantly.

Pidgeeyed Lance sideways and said, “Get behind me.”

“I can handle this,” he retorted under hisbreath. “Trust me.”

“Last time you said that we spent twonights in—” At his sharp glare, she growled but fell silent. Well, if hesucceeded, she’d have no need to expose herself.

Heflashed her a grin, one that, absurdly, made her heart pound just a bit faster.Then his attention returned to the angry man still standing before them. “Sir,I know who you’ve mistaken us as,” he said, “and for that I apologize, for weare not them.”

Theplayer rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “You mean you are not the Arusian wantedfor the murder of the Duke of Nalquod”—his eyes swiveled towards Pidge andnarrowed—”and his accomplice?”

Pidgestiffened, questing for the reservoir of magic barely out of her reach. Itswarmth only just touched her, ready and welcoming and so tempting…but she had to trust Lance.

Lancelaughed, though to Pidge’s knowing ears it sounded forced. “Ofcourse not!” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Would it not be awfullyblatant of a wanted killer to parade around hustling cards?”

“So you admit to hustling?” The man steppedtowards him.

Pidgewas faster, flipping her knife into her hand and pressing the tip against hischest. “Iwouldn’t if I were you,” she said, voice low. Her whole body tensed, ready tospring, and the green magic filled her, its heat mirroring her frustration.

Theman stared down at her for a long beat before he threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, little wizard,” he said as he withdrewa step and his hand fell from his sword hilt, “I can see I must be mistakennow. What murderer needs his accomplice’s fierceprotection?”

Pidgegaped at him, her mind slow to process what was happening. Then heat rushed toher cheeks; she recognized mockery for what it was.

“Yes, that’s how it is,” Lance declared,already putting himself between the offended player and Pidge, who was toostunned and humiliated to resist. “I’m a bard, you see, and, uh, he isactually my devoted apprentice.” His fingers curled around Pidge’s arm, pullingher towards him. “Today’s lesson was sleight of hand, though maybe I could’vechosen a less frightening victim.” He smiled hopefully at him.

Pidgeforced herself to play along and nodded; it was a reasonable cover story,though one that chafed her.

“I am but a poor man though and need everypenny I can get,” Lance continued. He sniffed, wiping a tear - where in thename of the Guardian Spirits did that even comefrom? - from under his eye. “Alas, I must support myself and myprotective apprentice while we travel, and in these trying times so few donateto hear me spin my tales.”

Pidgepinched her lips together and decided that tonightshe would finally wash her hands of him and see him dead for this.

“Then please,” the man said, clasping hishands together politely, “accept those winnings as charity.”

Pidgecouldn’thelp snorting at that, earning her an elbow to the arm from Lance, but shestill said, “Thank you for giving us money that already belongs to us.”

Theirgenerous player glared at her. “Perhapsadd a lesson about manners to your plans, bard.”

Lanceshot a reproachful look at Pidge. “I will take that under consideration.” Hebowed his head to the man, who saluted him with a lazy gesture beforeshouldering his bag and leaving the tavern.

Asthe door swung shut behind him and the tavern erupted into excitedconversation, Lance rounded on Pidge and said, “We need to go now.”

“You think?” Pidge retorted. “What kind oftale was that?”

“A good one,” Lance insisted, “and I can’tbelieve it worked.” He grinned, looking more proud than smug, and for a momentPidge’s chest felt warm.

Untilshe remembered the man’s initial accusation.

“Lance,” Pidge said, “he said you killed—”

“Later,” Lance muttered. He collected hisfew belongings, stuffing money pouch and cards into his bag, before seeming toreconsider. He untied the money pouch and dropped a few coins onto the table. “Nextround of drinks are on me!” he announced to the tavern.

Thefew patrons left cheered, and Lance waved as Pidge grabbed his wrist anddragged him outside.

Thoughshe couldn’trelax, Pidge pushed the green magic away. Its heat gave way to the chill of theevening, and Pidge pulled her hood over her head to shield herself from thewind.

“Could just use a warming spell,” Lance pointedout. “It’s simple enough, right?”

Pidgenodded, but when she noticed him shiver she smirked. “Whydon’t you then?”

Lancescowled at her. “Youknow I’m useless at magic.”

“I’ve offered to teach you a few spells,”Pidge said, “and I reallythink you should let me.” She narrowed her eyes at him, then warilyscanned their surroundings and the way no town folk lingered to chat with theirneighbors despite the early evening. “A protective one, at least.”

“Are you already tired of me, Pidge?” Lancewondered, his tone teasing.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, then stood infront of him, crossing her arms and forcing him to a halt, “especially when you draw attention to yourself likethat.”

Lancerolled his eyes and tugged his cloak tighter around himself. “Itworked this time, didn’t it?”

“But it hasn’t always!” Pidge said,throwing her arms up. “The only foolproof way to make sure no one notices youis to keepyour head down. For the Spirits’sake, Lance, you’re wanted for murdering a duke!” She breathed heavily right as a gust ofwind blew her hood off her head. She growled and pushed it back up, resortingto a small adhesion spell to stick it in place.

Lancestared at her. “Youdon’t actually believe that, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” she said, “but I believethat other people can believe that, including the king.”

“The king himself acquitted me!” Lanceargued.

“Maybe he changed his mind,” Pidge said. “Maybeyour escape made him suspicious, or maybe your true crime made him vindictive.”She spun on her heel and continued on her way down the road. “Maybe the taleabout the Duke’s murder got twisted in the telling.”

Lancedidn’timmediately reply, perhaps contemplating her words as he kept pace with her.

Shesighed, the exhaustion from travel finally catching up to her, and asked, “Canwe at least use some of that coin to buy a room at an inn tonight? I’d give myleft arm to sleep in a bed…”

ThenPidge remembered something else from the tavern, and her thoughts of a warmnight’ssleep fled. She rounded on Lance and said, “You were trying to tell mesomething about that man while you were hustling him. What was it?”

Lanceglanced at her and laughed. “I’m not sure it matters anymore since Italked us out of that.”

“Still,” she said as she tugged on hissleeve insistently, “it might be important.”

“Fair,” he agreed, but then he frowned andsaid, “I saw an insignia I recognized from home.”

Pidgeblinked at him in surprise. “Can you describe it?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Lance promised. “Soonas we get to an inn, I’ll draw it.”

Pidgesmiled, cheered by that despite the strange sense of foreboding propagated bythe village’satmosphere…at least until the memory of the corrupted magic the player trailedthrough the tavern. Her nose twitched, and she imagined she could smell smokeon the cold breeze.

Besideher, Lance shivered, and Pidge asked, “Do youwant a warming spell?”

Lanceturned to her. “Please.”

Shelaughed and pressed a fingertip to his forehead.

Heclosed his eyes and shuddered as she cast the spell. “Magicfeels weird,” he said once he opened his eyes again.

“It wouldn’t feel so weird if you’d learnsome,” Pidge said with a shrug. “And it’ll be easier for you than you thinksince—”

“Oh, look, an inn!” Lance interrupted,changing direction and heading towards a door left wide open despite the cold.

Pidgescowled at his back before following him into the well-lit and warm common roomof an inn. “Whatwas the point of asking for a warming spell?”she hissed at him.

Lanceignored her, his focus captured by a realtraveling bard that sat in the corner. She strummed the strings of a lute, ateasing smile on her face as she spun a story for the few guests in the commonroom, most of whom paid their meals more attention than they did her.

“Lance?” Pidge prodded.

Theinnkeeper - marked by the guild insignia embroidered onto a chest pocket -approached, a hopeful smile on her face. “You here for a room?” Her eyes moved overto Lance. “You think Nyma’s good? We’re lucky to have a bard, of all things,especially with how bad business has been.”

“Huh?” Lance recognized someone spoke tohim and turned to the innkeeper. “Yes, one room.” He glanced at Pidge. “Twobeds.”

Andthen he went back to ogling the pretty blonde bard.

Pidgerolled her eyes when the innkeeper held out an expectant hand. “Howmuch?” When she told her, she passed over a few coins - pulled from her ownpouch since Lance was still busy- and said, “We’dalso like a meal.”

“Take a seat,” said the innkeeper,gesturing around the nearly empty common room. “I’ll bring your key to yousoon.”

Pidgetook Lance’sarm and, when he finally looked at her, said, “I bought dinner and a room. Youowe me now.”

“Please, Pidge,” Lance retorted as hesettled onto a bench, “what’s mine is yours. I do owe you my life.”

Pidgestared at him, wondering how that statement could please and irritate her atthe same time. But she bit her lip and retorted, “What good does the money in your bag do meif I can’t reach it?”

“Better that I keep it than you spend it onan arcane magic book,” he said with a shrug.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many,” he said. He smiledslightly and rested his chin in his hand. “Have you even opened that book yet?”

“Haven’t had the time,” Pidge grumbledright as the innkeeper came to their table with two bowls and a key. Shepocketed the key - labeled with their room number - and picked up a spoon. Herstomach growled at the scent of tomato and oregano, a reminder of home.

“Why did you want it then?” Lance wonderedafter dragging his own bowl towards him.

Pidgerested a protective hand on her bag. “It’s about…green magic,” she explained. “Irecognized the title from some of my father’s research.”

“Green magic?” Lance frowned. “Magic hascolors?”

Pidgeshrugged and said, “Not exactly. It’s kind of hard to describe, actually, but”—shesmirked at him—”I’ll definitely tell you all about it when you let me teach yousome spells.”

Lancescowled at her. “That’snot going to happen.”

“Why not?”she demanded, growing frustrated again. “It’s useful!”

“I knowthat, Pidge,”he said, “but it’s not something I canuse, all right?”

“How do you know that?” she wondered. “Becauseyou won’t know until you try.”

“How do you know I didn’ttry?”Lance shot back.

Pidge’sbreath caught at the glare he leveled at her. She put her fork down as shamefilled her stomach instead of food, but she still quietly pressed, “Maybe it’schanged now.”

Lancesighed. “Maybe,”he said, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.

Theydescended into an uncomfortable silence. The common room’snoise - the bard on her lute and the patrons’ voices - washed over her butfailed to drown out the chaos of her thoughts. She sought for a new subject,anything to avoid leaving their conversation hanging like that, but Lance beather to it.

“You wanted to see the insignia?”

Pidgestared at him uncomprehendingly for a beat…until she remembered. “Oh, yes.” Shereached into her bag and pulled out her journal, a jar of ink, and a pen beforepassing them to him. “Just the best sketch that you can make.”

Lancepushed his half-empty plate aside and uncapped the ink. He hummed, the soundbarely audible over the common room’s, and drew a symbol onto a page at theback of her journal.

Hishand moved quickly, the pen sitting comfortably in his hand and the motionalmost mesmerizing. But before it could draw her in, Lance turned the journalaround and nudged it back to her.

Hereyes widened at the sight of the symbol on the paper, and she cursed under herbreath.

“You recognize it?” Lance asked.

Pidgenodded. Her heart pounded and palms dampened with newfound understanding anddread. “Wecan’t stay here,” she said, slamming the journal shut and stuffing it and theink and pen back into her bag.

“What?” Lance said, staring at her. “Whynot? I thought you wanted to sleep in a—”

“Lance,” Pidge cut him off once she stood, “theman you hustled is Galra.”

“A-are you sure?” Lance said. “Because I’venever seen a Galra soldier wear an insignia like that.”

“Yes,” she said, “and there could be others. Now let’s gobefore he comes back. I could smell the magic on him.”

Lancestood and rounded the table until he was beside her. “Youcan smell magic?”

“Only corrupted,” she replied. “Just…actnaturally. Do notdraw attention.”She glared sideways at him and walked towards the drawer, forcing herself to doso slowly.

“Leaving so soon?” The innkeeper appearedat her other side, a frown on her face. “Surely you’d rather spend the nightwhere it’s safe and warm.”

“I don’t think that’s here,” Pidge toldher. She pulled the key from her pocket and returned it to the innkeeper. “Butthank you for your hospitality. You can keep the payment.”

“No, you—”

Shecut Lance off with an elbow to his side and led the way out of the inn and backinto the night…

…only for the man from the tavern to standin their path, the familiar and insidious symbol of crossed daggers stitched in deepviolet thread on his satchel.

“Warlock,” Pidge realized when the stenchof burning greeted her.

“Sorcerer,” he said, identifying her inturn. Then his gaze fell on Lance, and his lips twisted into an ugly smirk. “Murderer.”

#plance #pidgance #voltron #qna #reem writes fic #...this took way too long #Anonymous

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leonalmalsy · 6 years

Text

Gift of the Magi - A Ryuann fic

Third year student Ann Takamaki couldn't believe what she was reading. Even after a third careful read through, the words almost seem to taunt her.

Shujin Academy Fundraiser

Shujin is raising money to fund our extracurricular activities. Join us May 5th. There will be games and food.

Don't miss our auction, where students can win a date with our third year beauties.

Ann's perfectly manicured nails ripped apart the flyer in a rage.

"How can they do this?" The twin tailed woman huffed. "I never agreed to this." With a stomp of her feet, she resolved to see the principal.

The new principal was a tall and lanky man, unlike their former principal. He had a look of a man struggling to tread water, which wasn’t far off the mark. After the disgrace of Kamoshida and the sudden death of the previous principal Kobayakaba, the new guy was simply overwhelmed by the negative press that Shujin had been receiving. There have been rumors that people have seen him duck into his office any time a police car whizzed by. Clearly, he wasn’t the best person for the job. How could such a man come up with this idea?

Ann knocked on the door of the prinicipal’s office. A meek “Come in” was the response.

“Sir, I’m sorry to bother you.” Ann said in her softest voice, even though she was a torrent of rage on the inside.

“Not at all. My doors are always open to the students of Shujin.” The principal’s words didn’t convince her that he really meant what he said.

“I just read the flyer for the fundraiser.” The blonde acknowledged.

“I am glad that you brought that up.” The principal took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow with it. In Ann’s eyes, it made him look smaller than he actually was. “This school’s reputation has been going downhill since last year. Kamoshida-sensei’s perversions tainted the Volleyball team. Then there is the matter of both Suzui-san’s attempted suicide and my predecessor’s sudden suicide. And there have been rumors that the so-called Phantom Thieves were actually students in this school. The benefactors who helped pay for tuition are threatening to withhold their money. Without them, we may have to seek out alternate sources of income.”

Ann’s rage softened. Being part of the Phantom Thieves last year was the best year of her life. But it did come with some baggage. She remembered having to endure Kamoshida’s perverted advances and Shiho’s attempted suicide. And even though they had nothing to do with it, Principal Kobayakawa was killed in their name. So was Haru’s dad. Shujin had been engrossed in scandal ever since.

“I know I am asking a lot of the third year students but without funding, Shujin may have to close many of its extracurricular activities." He continued, unaware of the guilt bubbling up in Ann. "If we cut them, less money will come from benefactors. It will lead to a downward spiral."

Ann bit her bottom lip. The guilt trip combined with the pathetic sounding voice of the principal created a potent combination that wore on her resolve not to participate in the fundraiser.

"Takamaki-san, I understand your reservation about being auctioned off. But think of the money that you could bring to the school? Would you deprive your fellow students of the funds they need in order to thrive?”

The guilt came in waves now. Ann’s face made a powerful grimace. She knew where this was going. This feeling was just like the time she had to pretend to pose nude for Yusuke’s painting.

“Okay. Fine.” She spat acidly. The new principal didn't bother to read her mood. Instead, he thanked her profusely for agreeing to the auction.

After leaving the office, Ann was more pissed than when she went in. She couldn't get out of this situation because of her guilt. Terrible thoughts swirled in her head. Who was going to win her? Were they going to expect something from her? Would this make the rumors about her and Kamoshida worse?

"I need to find another way out." She thought out loud. "If only I was a Phantom Thief again."

That's when it hit her. There was another way out. She could only hope that he didn't leave for the day.

As it happened, he was behind the school, running. Ryuji Sakamoto, middle school friend, ex-track star, dyed blond, and phantom thief. The two of them had spent an amazing year with an amazing group of people. At times, it all felt like a dream.

Unfortunately, the Phantom Thieves didn't meet up as frequently as they used to. Makoto was accepted by a prestigious college and spent much of her time studying. Haru was working to improve Okumura Food's image. Ren and Morgana moved back to Ren's hometown. Yusuke is still going to Kosei but he'll go days without contacting them and then show up later, hungry. Futaba was going to a different high school than Shujin in order to open herself up to people other than the Phantom Thieves. This left her with Ryuji.

After the Phantom Thieves, Ryuji continued training his body, especially his legs. Although he would never regain his former speed thanks to Kamoshida and he would never rejoin the track team, the bleached blond reasoned that it was still no excuse to break routine. Of late, he made a habit of roping Mishima into his workout. And as he finished his set, there was the blue haired youth, wheezing towards the finish line.

"Sakamoto. I can't anymore." Mishima wheezed out every word as he collapsed on the grass.

"That was a good run, Mishima." Ryuji smiled as he chugged a liter of ice cold water while tossing another to the guy on the floor.

"Good? It was torture." The blue haired youth coughed as he guzzled down the water like he hadn't had it in forever. "And you do this for fun?"

"Com'n." Ryuji laughed. "If you're serious about getting into shape, then you can't do this half-assed."

"You're one to talk, Ryuji." Ann retorted, announcing her presence.

Ryuji grimaced. "Did you come all this way to mock us?" His voice was quite blase. He was used to her comments by now and was too tired to come up with one of his own. Oh...wait. "You know, you could stand to lose a couple of kilograms yourself. Otherwise, that brown haired model is going to take the number one spot."

Watching her flustered face made it all worth it. He cracked up laughing.

"That is never going to happen. Mika-san is going to have to settle for second place." She seethed. "To think I wanted to come to you with my problem."

The dyes blond youth stopped laughing. "Sorry. I'm good. Tell me."

Ann pursed her lips. "Fine. But let's go somewhere else."

"Fine with me." Ryuji shrugged his shoulders. He looked at Mishima's prostrate form. "You gonna be good, Mishima?"

"Chest on fire. Death close." He wheezed out every word.

Ryuji motioned with his head for Ann to follow him. They walked a bit so that they were behind the school.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Have you read the flyers about a fundraiser?" Ann asked.

"What about it?" Ryuji had seen them posting something about a fundraiser. But that didn't really catch his interest. So he paid it no mind.

"Did you read the part about third year girls being auctioned off?" She couldn't keep the rage out of her voice.

"F'real?" He exclaimed. "Why?"

"The principal said that because of the Phantom Thieves, benefactors are not investing in the school." Ann explained. "So the third year girls are going to be auctioned off to date their highest bidder."

A perverted grin started to creep across his face. "Is that how it's going to be?" Ryuji could just imagine it. A date with one of the third year girls. He could almost imagine it. She would have a hot body and call him Sakamoto-sama or Sakamoto-senpai.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Ryuji." The blonde demanded, stamping on his foot. "This is serious. I'm gonna be on that auction."

"If you don't want to be in the auction, just tell the principal." The dyed blond youth stretched his limbs, only stopping when he heard that satisfying pop. "I heard he's a real pushover."

"That's the thing. He guilt-tripped me into doing it by using our year as Phantom Thieves against me." Ann couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice. "He said that it's thanks to them that benefactors haven't been giving money. The school could go broke."

Ryuji saw the look of desperation on her face. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to buy me."

I need you to buy me. That's what she said that day. Ryuji had agreed, mostly because she was his friend. How could he abandon her in her time of need? But he couldn't help but feel weird. Why come to him? He wasn't loaded and he didn't have a high paying job like Ren did. He made enough money to help ease his mom's burden and to have extra on the side. She must have been really desperate.

The auction was taking place in the gym while the rest of the fundraiser was being hosted in the auditorium. In truth, Ryuji wanted to see everything the fundraiser had to offer but he didn't know when Ann's turn was going to be so he had no choice but to stay in the gym.

"Hope I have enough." He grumbled after taking a seat.

Nine girls came and went before Ann came on stage. Unlike the other girls who dolled themselves up, Ann was in her school uniform. She crossed her arms and gave off an aura of "leave me alone".

"Next up is Ann Takamaki," the MC announced in a flourish. “A part-time model whose naturally blonde hair lights up any room.”

Ann blushed. Hearing the announcer describe her like that threw her off-guard.

“How about a twirl, Ann-chan?” The announcer cooed.

Ann set her glare at the MC. He must have caught it because he immediately looked away. “Well, what are my starting bids for Ann?”

500 yen, someone yelled out.

600

700

900

1200

Ann was stunned. The offers steadily rose, easily clearing 2,000 yen. From there, the increments increased by 500. She was barely registering the numbers, instead, trying to find Ryuji in the crowd.

4500

5000

5200

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for bleached blond hair. How difficult could it be to find him? A horrid thought crossed her mind. What if he abandoned her? She clenched her fist. She would make him pay if he did.

“7000 yen-” the announcer cried “-going once”

“8000 yen.”

Ann’s head whipped around sharply to where the voice originated. Sure enough, it was Ryuji, standing on his chair and yelling out his bid.

“Sakamoto’s bidding on Takamaki?” Perhaps that was meant as a whisper but Ann heard it loud and clear.

“Why should a punk like him date a pretty girl like Takamaki?” Another yelled.

“8250″

“8500″ Ryuji yelled in response.

Ann’s eyes widened. The bidding was much higher than she expected. At first, she was worried that Ryuji wouldn’t help her at all. Now she was worried that Ryuji wouldn’t have enough to win. Something akin to a gut punch made her stomach flip. She got the feeling that if Ryuji didn’t win, he would feel massively guilty, like he would be letting her down. Her eyes began to water. She wanted to tell Ryuji that it was okay, that he didn’t need to waste his money on her. But the words didn’t come,

8600

8700

8800

Back and forth they went in increments of one hundred until

“9500″ Ryuji yelled.

“Going once, going twice,”

“10,000″ the student who Ryuji was in a bidding war with announced triumphantly.

“10,000?” The announcer gasped incredulously. “10,000 going once”

Ann couldn’t bear to look Ryuji in the eye. She didn’t want to see his dismayed face.

“Going twice.”

“12,800.” Ryuji bellowed, holding the money in his hand.

An audible gasp emptied the air in the auditorium.

“12,800. Going once, going twice, sold to the blond guy still standing on his seat.”

Ann nearly burst into tears. It took all her strength to stay on her feet. Ryuji had come through for her.

Ann and Ryuji walked to the train station after the fundraiser was over. Neither said anything. Ann couldn’t express into words just how grateful she was. Ryuji had gone above and beyond to help her out.

“Thanks, Ryuji.” Her voice had cracked a bit due to her gratitude.

“Huh,” Ryuji snapped his attention to his friend. “Oh, it was nothing.”

“It was not nothing,” Ann told him, stamping her foot to get his attention. “I know I kinda sprung that on you last minute but you pulled through for me. So thanks.”

“Come on,” Ryuji scratched the back of his head. His cheeks started to stain pink. “You’re my friend. We’ve been through so much together. Of course, I’d help you if I can.”

That made Ann smile. It was just like Ryuji to make everything so simple. But that’s one of the things she liked about him.

“I have an idea,” The twin tailed girl spoke. “How about you and me hang out this Sunday? I’ll take you to my favorite crepes place.”

Ryuji stretched out his limbs. “Sure. I’ve got no plans that day.”

“Then it’s settled.” Ann pumped her fist in excitement. “You’re gonna love this place. I swear, you’ll be a sweets junkie at first bite.”

Sunday came. Ryuji walked down Central Street, looking for his friend. Thanks to her unique looks, he didn’t have to look hard. She was standing in front of the movie theaters.

Ryuji waved at the blonde. “Sorry. Were you waiting long?”

Ann shook her head. “I just got here myself. Now let’s go. These crepes are going to rock your world.”

Ryuji faked a grimace as Ann dragged him towards their destination. Inwardly, he smiled. It was great that things haven’t changed that much since their days as Phantom Thieves.

Ann didn’t lie when she said the sweets in this place were out of this world. Even though he wasn’t a sweets person, the crepes were made to perfection. Each bite was a cacophony of flavors that complemented each other. Ryuji could see why Ann loved these things. He was in flavor town. Ann herself had polished off eight of them before they were done.

“Crepes are love. Crepes are life.” Ann sighed as they left.

Ryuji scratched the back of his head. “How can you eat so much sugary sweets and not gain so much weight?”

“Maybe my metabolism is just that great,” the blonde laughed.

A wicked grin crossed the ex-runner’s face. “Or maybe it just goes to your breasts.”

“WHAT?” She screeched.

“I can see it now,” Ryuji leered playfully. “Every crepe adds one centimeter to your bust size.”

Ann took a swipe at him. However, Ryuji had anticipated this and dodged her attack.

“Get back here and take your punishment.” Ann yelled, shaking fist and chasing after her friend.

Ryuji just laughed and ran away from her, watching as she chased him.

Ann and Ryuji spent the day hanging out in Shibuya, enjoying some of the sights and sounds of the city. Ryuji introduced Ann to the joys of the arcade and Ann took Ryuji to the underground mall to window shop. Near the end of the day, their travels led them to a sneaker store. Ryuji had stopped to stare.

“I didn’t know you were that into sneakers,” Ann said.

“You can’t be a good runner if you don’t have good sneakers,” Ryuji explained. “Arch support and cushioning are important for speed.”

Ann didn’t know that. She could understand shoes for fashion and for comfort. But a shoe for speed, that was something else entirely. It was quite eye-opening to step through the looking glass and see Ryuji’s world.

“Ahh, Ryuji-chan” a woman’s voice called to him. “You’ve come.”

A middle-aged woman stepped out of the store and greeted him. She was somewhat plain, a dusting of gray hair and wrinkles here and there. But her overall cheerful demeanor made her shine bright.

“Obaa-san,” Ryuji greeted in a friendly manner. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

The store owner noticed that Ryuji wasn’t alone. “Oh, hello. Are you Ryuji-chan’s girlfriend?”

Both teenagers blushed at the implication. “N-n-no. We’re just friends,” Ryuji insisted.

The store owner gave them a wan smile. It was almost like she didn’t believe them. However, she let that go for the moment. It wouldn’t do to give her favorite customer the third degree.

“So what brings you in, Ryuji-chan? Are you here to buy the sneakers you’ve put on reserve?” She motioned to sneakers that were out on the display window.

Ann couldn’t stop her eyes from following to where the sneakers were. She read the tag. It was Assassin brand sneakers, a simple pair of white sneakers with red laces and black soles. Apparently they were sneakers popular with runners. Even knowing little about sneakers, she knew that these Assassin sneakers were very good. Then she read the price tag. It was 12,800 yen. The number struck her as familiar but she couldn’t place why it was.

“About that,” Ryuji started. “I don’t have the money this week. Can you hold it in reserve for another week while I scrap together the money?” He ended his request by clasping his hands together in an imploring manner.

The store manager looked at him in sadness. “I’m sorry, Ryuji-chan,” she apologized. “But you know our policy. We can only reserve sneakers for four weeks, no more, even for you. I’m really sorry.”

Ryuji hung his head in defeat. “I understand.”

As the bleached blond walked towards the back to look at other sneakers, a realization came to Ann. She knew now why the price tag was so familiar. It was the same amount of money Ryuji used to win her lot in the auction. It hit her all at once. Ryuji had been saving up enough money to buy a pair of rare sneakers he wanted. And along comes Ann Takamaki, without any consideration of Ryuji’s feelings, and demands that he use his hard-earned money on her. A sickening feeling bubbled in her stomach as it dawned on her. She had used Ryuji in the same way that she herself didn’t liked to be used. And she felt guilty because of it.

“Miss, are you okay,” the shopkeeper asked.

Ann snapped out of her self-loathing party to pay attention to her surroundings. “Sorry. I was out of it.” Her light-blue eyes turned towards Ryuji. He was examining another pair of sneakers, feeling the weight and texture of it.

“I’ve known Ryuji-chan ever since he started doing track,” the shopkeeper told her. “He is brash and impulsive and not so quick on the uptake.” Ann couldn’t help but smile at the words. “But despite all of that, he has a good heart. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, he does,” Ann agreed. The shopkeeper had no idea. Ryuji helped her with Kamoshida, had defended countless times a Phantom Thief. Hell, he nearly died saving them in Shido’s Palace. And now, he spent the money he would have had to buy the sneakers he wanted but instead, he spent it to spare her from being bought by someone else to do gods know what by gods know who.

The two watched Ryuji compare sneakers.

“So, tell me the truth. Are you Ryuji-chan’s girlfriend?”

Ann flushed magnificently. The contrast between her red face, blonde hair, and blue eyes was something to behold. “No,” she squeaked, unable to control the volume of her voice. “We’re just good friends.”

The shopkeeper made a sound, indicating that she wasn’t sure that was the case but she didn’t say anything else beyond that. Thankfully, Ryuji sauntered up to them, preventing things from becoming more awkward.

“Welp, I’m finished. Ann, you ready to go?” He asked.

Ann’s guilt started to double back on her. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Ryuji-chan,” the shopkeeper waved goodbye as the two teens left her store. “Say hello to your mother for me. Please come again.”

The train ride back was quite silent, unbearably so. Ann was in a pool of self-pity for using Ryuji without any consideration. As for Ryuji, he was trying to figure out what was going on with Ann. Finally, they had come to their stop. Ann and Ryuji hopped off the train and headed into the street. This intersection was where they had to go their separate ways.

“Well,” Ryuji turned towards the direction of his apartment, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ann. Today was really fun.”

As Ryuji walked away, Ann couldn’t help but shout at him to wait. Ryuji turned around to see his friend’s face filled with determination, like she wanted to tell him something important.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Ryuji asked.

“I’m sorry,” Ann cried out.

The bleached blond furrowed his eyebrows. “For what?”

“I didn’t know you were saving your money for something else.” Ann’s guilt came back as a tidal wave. “I bothered you with my problem, never thinking that you had your own thing going on.”

“Ann...”

“I used you. And now, you can’t afford to buy the sneakers you wanted, simply because I made you spend your money on me.” Tears had come unbidden and started to stream down her face. Ann bowed her head so that Ryuji didn’t see her crying. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry.

“Ann, listen to me.” Before Ann realized it, Ryuji had closed the distance between the two of them. “You didn’t make me spend my money. I spent it to help you.”

“But...”

“Ann,” he said in a voice that would brook no other rebuttals. “You asked for my help. I helped you. You’re my friend and that’s more important to me than any sneaker that has ever or will ever come out.”

Ann was stunned by his frank admission. He helped her simply because they were friends. It remind her of the shopkeeper’s words. He has a good heart. Truer words were never spoken. The fact that he would lose out on something he wanted just to help her solidify the fact that underneath his headstrong attitude was an amazing person. Sure, she may deride his somewhat perverted nature and may mock his intelligence once in a while, the fact remains that Ann was very lucky to have Ryuji Sakamoto as a friend.

“Ryuji.” Ann whispered. “Thanks. For everything.”

Ryuji grinned. “No problem.”

As Ryuji was about turn away to go home, Ann called out to him once more. “Can you do me one more favor?”

“Hmm, what’s up?”

A dusting of pink tinged her cheeks. “Can you close your eyes for a minute?”

“Huh? Why?” Ryuji didn’t understand why Ann was requesting this.

“Please?” Her voice came out more earnest than she expected.

Ann’s request threw him off. So he did as she asked and closed his eyes.

Years later, if you had asked Ann what compelled her to do what she was about to do now, she wouldn’t be able to give you a clear answer. But her body moved on its own. Lo and behold, Ann’s lips pressed against the corner of Ryuji’s lips. That’s not what she meant to do. It was suppose to be a kiss on the cheek. How did that happen? Did she close her eyes just before the kiss? But she couldn’t take it back now.

As for Ryuji, once he felt the pressure from Ann’s lips, his eyes shot open. Ann was kissing him. ANN. TAKAMAKI. WAS. KISSING. HIM. On the list of things that could happen to him, this was not one of them. And before he could react, she pulled away.

“See you tomorrow,” Ann quickly shot out before she sprinted away.

“Ann, wait.” Ryuji sprinted after her. There was no way that he could let her go away without giving him a chance to speak. Thankfully, he was still much faster than his fellow Phantom Thief so he caught up with her instantly and grabbed her arm.

Ann didn’t turn around but neither did she struggle to break free. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said in an even tone that betrayed nothing. “I just wanted to thank you. That was the best way how.”

“Ann, listen, I.” The kiss flustered Ryuji to the point that he didn’t know what to say. That was a first for him.

Ann wanted to see the look on Ryuji’s face but she was too embarrassed. But she was sure it was rather silly.

“Next week,” the bleached blond started. “If you’re free, you wanna hang out? You know, just you and me.”

Was she hearing right? “Are you asking me out on a date?” Ann still didn’t look at him. She wasn’t sure she could handle it right now.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” he offered, letting go of her hand and waving his own in a frantic manner. “It could just be two friends hanging out.”

Ann waited a beat. “I’m going to see Shiho next week.”

“Oh.” Ryuji was deflated. He turned to walk away, not wanting to make things more awkward than it was.

“But, I’ll be free the week after that,” she offered. “We can go then.”

Ryuji turned around and saw that Ann was finally looking at him. She was smiling. That made him smile.

“Alright then,” Ryuji grinned. “See you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah”

It was strange. Who would have thought that a school fundraiser could lead to something like this? Neither Ann nor Ryuji expected that this event could bring them closer. And yet, it did. And soon after, the two of them started dating. Who would have guessed? Perhaps it’s not surprising that two former Phantom Thieves still in the same school would deepen their relationship. But it was a welcomed surprise.

More than half a year had passed and their relationship was only getting stronger. Christmas came and the Phantom Thieves got together, spending their holiday at Leblanc. It was a small but wonderful celebration.

A small plastic tree was set up on top of one of the booths. The gang had left their presents for each other under it. Ryuji saw a rectangular box with his name on it. Getting greedy, he grabbed and shook its contents.

“Oooh, I wonder what Santa-san left me,” he chuckled.

“You still believe in Santa? Lame,” Futaba cackled.

“You’re just not into the holiday spirit.” The bleached blond accentuated that statement by sticking out his tongue. “I’m gonna open it.”

With little preamble, Ryuji tore into the present. It was a sneaker box. When he opened it, his mouth stood agape. There it was, the Assassin sneakers that he had wanted from months ago. Only one person knew about that.

“Ann?” He didn’t trust himself to speak. “How did you...”

Ann gave her boyfriend a saucy wink. “You forget that I’m a part-time model. After that day, I got in contact with people to get that pair.” She told him of just how difficult it was to get it. “The hardest part was getting a pair in your size. But the shopkeeper helped me with that.”

Ryuji immediately hugged Ann tightly. “You’re the best girlfriend a guy could ask for.” He kissed her temple to punctuate that.

Ann fake-struggled to get out of his embrace. “Let go. You’re embarrassing me.”

Ryuji just laughed and hugged her tighter.

#persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 fanfiction #Ryuji Sakamoto #ann takamaki #ryuann #skull and panther

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sociallyawkward46 · 6 years

Text

Feel like I gotta share this

I’ve made mistakes at work, sure. I however am treated like I am lesser than employees of the same level as me at work.

I had a day where a friend was visiting me and, while they were walking around town, they began to come down with a horrible migraine. They came into my store and asked me to call someone to come and get them. They were literally fading in and out of consciousness so I let them sit down while I called for my parents. My boss marches in and starts yelling and threatening to fire me and yells at my friend to get out (in front of customers might I add). I explained what was going on but defending myself any further would get me fired.

This summer was no different. A friend came to see me and asked me to hold onto her stuff while she ran some errands. I did and she came back and we chatted for a short while until my boss came in and bitched at her to leave right before she was about to buy something (again, in front of customers). My boss explicitly explained that I can’t have anyone hanging out inside the store, but I can hang out with them outside of the store during my shift??? Which makes no sense at all. She starts blaming some mistakes I recently made on me hanging out with friends on the job and not paying attention when my friends were not even present when these mistakes were made. It was just me being a dumbass.

On an average day, I earn 500+ dollars on a four hour shift (that’s a lot for this place), fold, price, and restock 100-200 shirts by hand, and clean up the store before I close or the next person shows up. I have a coworker who can’t even do thirty in four hours on a slow day because she spends the majority of her shift smoking outside and complaining about how she feels sick, yet I get into trouble for not doing any work.

To make things even better, my boss personally asked this insane woman who works next door to me to watch me. Literally watch me work almost all day to be sure I am doing my job. She makes up lies about me having friends and groups of people in the store and not doing anything (she also lied about me closing two hours early without permission one time for some reason). She will watch me through the window or just sit outside and smoke (the smell wafts into the store and this happens just about everyday so I go home with a headache and a sick stomach after every shift). There are points where she does not go into her own store for more than a half an hour because she is just watching me. My bosses believe her more than they do me so I am on thin ice. I am not returning to this position next year because I am literally fearful to go to work. I don’t believe this woman will hurt of assault me (if she does she is thinner than paper and her lungs are crap due to her smoking habits so I can defend myself easily) but I have spent the last 13 years of my life in constant fear from a bully and am medicated for chronic anxiety. Just the idea of her watching me is extemely unsettling.

It’s in no way a hard job, I can handle a large work load with no problem, but the stalking and the constant blame is ridiculous.

They allow me to choose my own music, to control the air conditioning, eat on the job (I don’t get a break), work on my computer (but talking with friends is off limits???) and play on my phone. I enjoy these perks a great deal but they don’t make up for the stalking and the blaming. They also don’t seem to appreciate how I shut everything down when a customer comes in. My boss literally does not acknowledge a customer when they come in because he is watching Seinfeld, sitting outside, or playing his guitar (you heard me).

I acknowledge that I should not have let someone sit next to me in the store and I know that I have a job to do (and I do it damn well), but this is absurd.

My parents have my back and so do my grandmother and sister and friends, but I can’t say anything until my last day or else I will lose my job and I need to earn money for school. Did I mention I’m getting paid under minimum wage? Where I work, minimum wage is 9.25 and I am only earning 8.50. My schedule is so hectic and awkward that I can’t get another job. I’ve applied to four other places but they all denied me because of this job. I haven’t had the courage to quit because I need to earn money in some way. I did street performing and made good money doing it, but I rarely have the time for it now with school coming up and work kicking my ass. I need a steady income, even if I’m only earning peanuts.

Just felt like I had to share my nightmare for my own sake. I’ve had two jobs in the past three years and both have been absolute disasters. I’ve never earned minimum wage, or had a boss who respects me, or had a steady schedule. I know two isn’t many, but it is ridiculous when you can’t feel safe or comfortable in your own work environment.

#horrible job #had to share #personal #i hate my job #hey friends #you know who you are #and i love you #i work in a tourist town #so i also deal with stupid people while all of this is going on #the lady is actually watching me rn

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lethesomething · 6 years

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Someone adopt Todoroki already

Let's talk about everyone's favourite BnHA prince, Todoroki Shouto, and his parental figures. This kid is some weird cross between Haikyuu's Kageyama and the Last Airbender's Zuko, in that he's a socially awkward pretty boy with a dark past and some very serious daddy issues. This kid has seen some shit, my dudes. And like those two he gets a rather satisfying, still ongoing character arc, making him one of those characters you can’t help but root for. You know what else Todoroki is? A walking symbolism manual.

Todoroki's parental figures

So BnHA is very interesting in the way it deals with parents. As opposed to most manga, they don't just all die or disappear into the background here. This series has some of the warmest mother-son relationships (hello Midoriya Inko), and it's also chock full of father figures (Dad Might, Dadzawa, Dad Torino). People like Midoriya and Bakugou, and Kirishima in the manga, get several of these mentors to help them on their way.

Todoroki, on the other hand, gets surprisingly few. He doesn't have the same relationship with Aizawa or All Might that Midoriya and Bakugou have, and he doesn't even get a separate mentor during his apprenticeship, because he chooses to spend that time with his own father. In a way, this makes a lot of sense. Whereas Midoriya gets outside guidance to grow, Todoroki's character development is very much an internal struggle. It is central to Todoroki's character arc that he learns how to deal with the parents he already has.

Putting this under a cut because it’s super long, and it ventures a little into manga territory (i tried to keep the spoilers mild).

Fire and Ice

I don't think I'm going to shock people when I mention that Endeavour, Todoroki Senior, is a bit of a dick. The man has many flaws as a father and a human being. He's abusive, for one. He is shown as proud, calculated, ruthless, selfish. He wants to mould his child with the very specific purpose of defeating his own greatest rival and he's willing to disregard the lives and feelings of others (like his wife) to make this happen. Now what may shock you is that honestly, I don't believe Endeavour is a purposely cruel person. You can't really save that many people if you're a full sadist. He appears to actually want a relationship with his son, or at the very least, he wants his son to look up to him. He doesn't seem to understand that holy shit, bro, you frigging traumatised that boy.

I feel that the way he's treated his kid, and his wife, is mostly him having a one track mind and going overboard. I'm not trying to redeem him here, but there are levels of evil and Endeavour for me falls into the 'drunk in a wife-beater' category. Putting aside the question of whether Dabi is also a Todoroki sibling, it does seem like not all his kids hate him, for instance. Shouto's sister Fuyumi seems pretty ok living in that house still. As a school teacher, she is an adult woman with an income who could be living alone. The fact that she stays in that house could mean she's there to take care of her younger siblings, or that she at least has a casual enough relationship with her (rich AF) dad that staying is preferable to making it on her own. Honestly, he probably just lowkey ignored his other kids for most of their childhood, or at least let them have a normal life. As such, it's mostly just Todoroki's bad luck that he was born as a 'perfect sample'. Endeavour strikes me as someone who is very full of himself and it causes him to look at other human beings as a means to an end.

On the other side of the scale is Mrs. Todoroki. Like Izuku's mother, she is framed first and foremost as someone who loves, someone who cares, someone selfless. But unlike Inko, her selflessness is pushed to a point where she can't take it anymore. This is a woman who has lost any and all agency. She is trapped in a loveless marriage she did not want and she doesn't even seem to have a name of her own. She is just 'Mrs. Todoroki', a plaything to be used and disposed of by a powerful man. The pain and fear she absorbs during the years is too great and she snaps, hurting the ones she loves the most. She is then quickly carted off and locked away somewhere out of view.

Appearances

So how has this whole business shaped Todoroki? For one: he doesn't give a damn about appearances. BnHA is very big on the difference between what you look like, and what you are. For a blatant example, check out the 'two forms' of All Might. Appearances are important for a hero, but Todoroki knows that this could be bullshit. Endeavour is the 'number two' hero. He is looked up to as a great and powerful man by the general populace, but it seems to be a bit of an open secret (judging by Present Mic's reaction at the Sports Festival) that he's a grade A jerk. On the other hand 'Mrs Todoroki' is known as a violent woman. Someone crazy. Someone dangerous. Someone that has to be hidden away in a hospital, never to see the light of day. In both these cases Todoroki knows better. He doesn't particularly look at the outside. He doesn't even judge people on what they say, but on what they do.

On a much more symbolic level, this is even the case for the whole 'element' business. I personally love how the reality of Todo's fire and ice, and of his parents elements, doesn't correspond to their official 'element'. Fire is supposed to be warm. The 'hearth' is the traditional centre of the family, whereas ice evokes the cold, lonely wilderness. But when it comes to parental love, Todoroki's mom's is the warm one. Her loves is even so hot that it when it goes out of control, it literally burns his skin. On the other hand, his father's love is a cold one. To his father, Todoroki is a product, a pawn in the race for Number One. It is an attitude that causes Todoroki to reject any sentimental ties he has to his father, almost literally turning the boy into a block of ice, since that's the only skill he's willing to use.

Walking. Symbolism. Manual.

Dual personality

But as the manga mentions, Todoroki is the perfect genetic mix of both his parents, whether he wants it or not. He is the 'half and half bastard' and step one in his development is actually becoming that. When we first meet Todoroki, he has a cold personality and he quite literally only uses ice, in apparent defiance of his father. This is his Ice Side. It is calculated, it is sharp, it is dismissive of others and it is ambitious. This is the kid that wants to win the tournament on half strength. It is the kid that challenges Midoriya as an 'opponent-to-beat'. It is, against all rebellious tendencies, the personality of his father.

Now let's look at his Fire Side. Remember when we first saw that? It's not the moment you're thinking of. It's this one

Todoroki's fire side is passion, it is anger, it is explosive and full of feelings. It is the side that cares, and cares so much that sometimes it explodes and threatens to hurt people (like poor Sero). Oddly enough, Todoroki's Fire Side comes much closer to his mother's personality.

Don’t believe me?

Todoroki's mom with a whistling kettle in the background.

Todoroki right before he freezes the hell out of Sero.

Achievement: Fire

Enter Midoriya, our superhero with an extra in 'unlocking character development'. What our boy does, in the tournament, is set Todoroki's fire side free from several years of suppression, obviously. He does this by making him forget about his father and get more in touch with his mother.

For just that moment, Todoroki switched sides, willingly.

And you see that from then on, he starts to flip between both sides more regularly. In his fight with Bakugou he's still sputtering, but honestly, boy just had a revelation, you can't expect him to be up to speed that fast. But you do see it more often later on.

We see Todoroki slowly warm up to his classmates, particularly to Iida and Midoriya. We see him start to visit his mother, because he's quite literally nurturing that side of him.You see him give very sensitive advice and lose his cool (heh) another time, like in the superhero exam. We see him remain his calm and calculated self all through that Bakugou rescue mission.

Back to dad

An interesting point in the story here, is the apprenticeship. Todoroki chooses to go to his father here. This is a calculated decision and he even mentions that in the anime. His father is a popular hero and it gives him good opportunities to work with the 'number two', despite whatever his feelings for this man may be. That's his ice side speaking (his father's side, if you follow my theory).

Now look what happens when Midoriya needs help.

Instant dismissal.

Todoroki knows what he cares about, and it is the continued well-being of Midoriya. The switch is almost instantly flipped. Forget his father, go save his friend. His mother's side is slowly but surely gaining.

Balance

Right now, you see a lot of duality in everything Todoroki does. This boy, despite unlocking both sides of himself, is still very much struggling. He can still come across as aloof in unfortunate situations. And let's not forget that his explosive side is just that. Explosive. If he doesn't learn to reign that in, he, too, could cause hurt to others. What Todoroki needs, more than anything, is to balance these sides of himself. The right brain and the left brain. Hot and cold, doing and feeling, Ice and Fire. Right now, he's almost split himself in half, showing one side now and another side the next. I'm not sure if all that switching is altogether healthy, but at least it's better than what he did before when he was literally suppressing entire parts of himself. It's progress. I'm hoping that he'll get past this stage also. It's slow going, but honestly? I get that. Kid's seen some shit.

PS: I have a bunch of these BnHA meta things.

#todoroki shouto #character theory #bnha #boku no hero academia #endeavour #man this is long #i know i keep saying it #but this is very long

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heartbroken-ghost · 4 years

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What the fuck is even the point in trying to get better? My life has really been no better than it was. I quit cutting and starving myself and purging and medications and got a new therapist I like and started talking to friends again and just ended up with the same bullshit I've always experienced. Why even try anymore, seriously?

My therapist doesn't want me working, disability doesn't pay enough for the cost of living here unless I want to live in fucking student housing when I'm not a student and I don't just want a tiny ass room, I don't seem to do better when I live on my own, I can't fucking drive right now or be sure that if I started again that it'd even work out well for me, I don't have friends I can live with, my therapist basically confirmed that my parents are abusive at least sometimes, if I don't move in with them I'm risking being homeless in the fucking brutal ass winter here, shelters are packed in the winter and I have too much stuff to move into one anyways and they only let you stay for a month at a time, my only other option where there isn't a waiting list was my friend's house but her mom is also on assistance so if I move in there she could lose money or both of us could, working could help somewhat but my new therapist is saying she doesn't think I should be working and so are my friends, my mom said she would want me to live with her but she's literally more abusive than my dad and my stepmom and loves to gaslight me constantly, rent continues to rise so I'm fucked, and literally I was at the point of being stable enough to clean fucking dishes and be keeping down my food while still losing weight in a healthy and actually unintentional way, one of my friends that probably would've let me stay with her died on my dad's birthday this year, a mutual friend her and I had is in the fucking hospital unable to even keep her meds down, my mom called me about her will and her dying is one of my worst fears (probably because how she used to threaten to kill herself if I left her house when I was a child) and also I feel like I broke this stupid unrealistic promise I made to myself as a child to fix or help her and I know she'll probably die with her and I being on somewhat shitty terms still, I've asked literally almost everybody I can think of to live with them and I can't, my heart is still broken from a guy I love that went back to his girlfriend and I'm not even sure if things I thought have been true this past year hasn't all just been some huge delusion of mine. Why try to get better when shit just keeps fucking happening? I'm 21, on disability for things my parents think are pretty much not even real or are just me exaggerating, I don't even know my actual limitations, like fuck man. I can't even talk or write without my brain being scattered as fuck and losing what I'm trying to say or my original point... This is just total shit man like I literally have no idea what to do and I don't even really want to post this but I just need to write this down somewhere where people I know won't see it so I can get this shit off my chest and I'm hoping that maybe one day I can just look back at this shit and it won't be an issue and that I'll be able to fucking survive. I just don't even see the point in trying anymore and I feel like I did the best I could or at least almost did. I don't even trust myself anymore or know what to believe.

I was in therapy for years to no avail, then tried healing on my own and got somewhere with it but man. I stopped working 3 years ago because I legitimately couldn't handle it anymore so I basically had a mental breakdown after working for 4 months, ended up in a psychiatric ward for 5 months (at which point my dad and stepmom said they couldn't really handle living with me anymore so:) then I moved into a grouphome, then I had my first manic psychotic episode where I set my fucking clothes on fire and went off a shit ton of meds, I moved in with my mom after then attempted suicide and almost died (sometimes I still just wish I had) and survived that, then started doing drugs because I felt so low I felt like I either had to start doing drugs or kill myself successfully (and I didn't want to risk putting my family and my damn self even through another failed one), I was in group therapy then fucking quit impulsively (at least I don't entirely regret that now), then I got clean after my friends and brother (I think with his ex Baylee as well) gave me an intervention and I quit crack cocaine cold turkey, I stopped cutting minus a small relapse last year when I lived with my mom (living with her always seems to end badly), and purging and meds (which I would intentionally overdose on last year), and I've been clean almost entirely from everything this year with the exception of ocassionally drinking and smoking cigarettes and doing 2 lines of coke once (I don't even remember if that was this year or last year at this point), I moved all the fuck over the place, lost my fucking cat (didn't entirely take proper care of him anyways so I guess it's fine? But I still miss him..), when I lived with my dad and stepmom again early this year after pretty much getting myself kicked out of my mom's for expressing discomfort, I tried to take a medication for aggression and symptoms of something like delirium and became overmedicated/had a negative reaction to the haldol, then moved into the apartment I now have to be out of within 2 months (if not less now) which had 2 fucking huge leaks that caused issues between my landlord and I (who just lost her mother recently and possibly also her father so her last priority is helping me which at this point I don't even really want her to do anyways because she's been pretty damn cool with me seeing as I couldn't pay for any damages), I've also never gotten sick this many times within a fucking year or so, can't seem to move on from a person I'll probably never actually get to be with because they love their current girlfriend too much and have been on and off with them for years and I scare them and might fucking be delusional anyways about them even saying they'd be with me (long story I'm not gonna get into if anybody is even reading this - like I said, I just need to vent).. It's just like fucking endless. What the fuck has 2019 even been other than an awful year AGAIN (love that! .... The passive aggression is real but anyways) like people say it gets better

But does it really?

I'd like to fucking see that happen. I thought it did and maybe I'm just having a negative filter and shit right now but I swear I'm just back in the exact same place I used to be.

I cry a little less at least and have a stable source of income and if I'm not delusional then at least I'm cared for (idk about loved but who knows anymore), and at least I lost weight and have a therapist I like a lot better than my previous ones

But like... man. I really don't blame myself at this point for still smoking cigarettes and at least I haven't been back to a psychiatric ward since last year. There's still improvement, just with all the fucking curveballs I've been thrown this year I'm not exactly steady by any means. When people have asked for the past couple of months how I'm doing I just say "could be better, could be worse" or "I don't know" and it still applies.

I just don't know or seem to understand almost anything anymore. Like how did it even get like this? All I've been fucking wanting is to heal and maybe it's just that it's not linear and I need to be more grateful but god damn, again I really don't blame myself.

I'm just at one of those points where recovery feels pointless and I feel hopeless.

My therapist said before that it's just depression clouding my judgement but man don't I have a right to feel like this after all of that? I think so. She'd (my therapist) probably agree but anyways I don't even really know what my point was. I'm just stressed, sad again and it feels lately like I'm exactly where I used to be. This is probably why I used to live according to the motto "hope for the best but expect the worst".

I just want to do and feel and be better.

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britawrites · 7 years

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✩ [kyle & carmen]

under here bc this is so fucking long

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Carmen, but only bc Kyle knows his placeWho threatens to leave but never actually does? KyleWho actually keeps their word and leaves? Maybe Kyle if things eventually become too muchWho trashes the house? Kyle would never dare so it’d have to be Carmen or no oneDo either of them get physical? He’d never put his hands on her and I can’t speak for herHow often do they argue/disagree? Probably lil spats over her husband and the whole secret relationship thingWho is the first to apologise? Kyle

Sex:

Who is on top? Pretty evenWho is on the bottom? Why is this even a question? If you answered the first then it answers this lmaoWho has the strangest desires? Ummm idk man I think he’d be afraid to get too kinky with herAny kinks? He’d love tying her up and taking a power role and he’d definitely get off on the thrill of getting caughtWho’s dominant in bed? This has to be equalIs head ever in the equation? If it isn’t what’s the point? So yes, it’s definitely in the equationIf so, who is better at performing it? I mean techniques would be different for each... I’m sure she’s ace but I think for a man Kyle would be so fucking good. That’s what the word on the street is anywaysEver had sex in public? AbsolutelyWho moans the most? He makes sure she does but he moans his fair shareWho leaves the most marks? It would have to be her, he’s very careful about thisWho screams the loudest? HerWho is the more experienced of the two? Her, but only by a lil and bc of her previous professionDo they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Fuck that one day turns into love making and it’s like... wtf just happened?? I DIDN’T MEAN TO FALL IN LOVE TONIGHT!! (get it, i’m so funny)Rough or soft? RoughHow long do they usually last? As long as they can get away with, which usually isn’t too longIs protection used? lol yeah... there’d be a big problem if there wasn’tDoes it ever get boring? No, he’d be firedWhere is the strangest place they’d have sex? Literally anywhere they can get away with it.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? No...If so, how many children do your muses want/have? n/aWho is the favorite parent? I’m skipping this section. It’s much more James/FrejaWho is the authoritative parent?Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school?Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around?Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children?Who goes to parent teacher interviews?Who changes the diapers?Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby?Who spends the most time with the children?Who packs their lunch boxes?Who gives their children ‘the talk’?Who cleans up after the kids?Who worries the most?Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Him but he doesn’t admit itWho is the little spoon? I don’t think they’d have time but he’d spoon her if they had the opportunityWho gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? CARMEN!!!Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? BothHow long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Oh god, this reminds me of my ex who could never cuddle for too long bc he always got uncomfortable and I was so annoyed, like man the fuck up bro!! But okay, idk less than five minutesWho gives the most kisses? Kyle, steals as many as he can getWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? Planning where they can have their next sexual activity?Where is their favourite place to cuddle? n/aWho is more likely to playfully grope the other? Carmen, I bet she grabs his ass when they are around her husbandHow often do they get time to themselves? Not much, even if her husband’s out of town there’s other employees around

Sleeping:

Who snores? Her husband lolIf both do, who snores the loudest?Do they share a bed or sleep separately? SeparatelyIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?Who talks in their sleep? Kyle?What do they wear to bed? BoxersAre either of your muses insomniacs? Yeah, I don’t think he sleeps much, though that’s likely more due to him being on the clock most of the timeCan sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Not hisDo they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? They wouldn’t sleep together in the beginning so I’m sure by the time they do they’d cuddleWho wakes up with bed hair? The dude who’s real name is Wendell, fucking nerdWho wakes up first? KyleWho prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Kyle, probably part of his job tbh jk they have a cook for thatWhat is their favourite sleeping position? The kind where he can get 8 hours for oncesWho hogs the sheets? CarmenDo they set an alarm each night? YesCan a television be found in their bedroom? YesWho has nightmares? Both I guessWho has ridiculous dreams? Carmen, she seems the typeWho sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? CarmenWho makes the bed? KyleWhat time is bed time? When they are too tired to go againAny routines/rituals before bed? Sexy onesWho’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Carmen

Work:

Who is the busiest? KyleWho rakes in the highest income? Carmen by way of her joint account with her husbandAre any of your muses unemployed? Idk what she does tbh other than trophy wifingWho takes the most sick days? Not him lolWho is more likely to turn up late to work? Not him eitherWho sucks up to their boss? I mean he is fucking her so...What are their jobs? Security & Looking SexyWho stresses the most? Kyle, lil ball of stressDo your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? I don’t think he enjoys being essentially a driverAre your muses financially stable? Yes

Home:

Who does the washing? NeitherWho takes out the trash? NeitherWho does the ironing? NeitherWho does the cooking? NeitherWho is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Carmen? Idk maybe girl can cook. He can do the basics and follow a recipsWho is messier? Carmen?Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Carmen, that’s what maids are forWho leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Carmen? He wouldn’tWho forgets to flush the toilet? Gross neitherWho is the prankster around the house? CarmenWho loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? CarmenWho mows the lawn? Kyle. She can watchWho answers the telephone? They each answer their own phonesWho does the vacuuming? NeitherWho does the groceries? KyleWho takes the longest to shower? CarmenWho spends the most time in the bathroom? Carmen

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? I’d think so but not a big one. More like she’s so dependent on her husbandHow many cars do they own? He’d have one and who knows how many she hasDo they own their home or do they rent? He owns an apartment and she isn’t on any of the paperwork for her husband’s homes I betDo they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? CoastDo they live in the city or in the country? City (did we pick one? i picture california)Do they enjoy their surroundings? YesWhat’s their song? Let’s Get It OnWhat do they do when they’re away from each other? Umm idk go on with their normal lives? A bit of thinking about when they’ll next be togetherWhere did they first meet? Her placeHow did they first meet? He was hired to be securityWho spends the most money when out shopping? Carmen, hands downWho’s more likely to flash their assets? CarmenWho finds it amusing when the other trips over? He’d snort if she ever tripped while wearing sky high heels bc he probably warned her and she wore them out of spite. But he’d still try to catch her. And I bet she’d laugh at him tooAny mental issues? Idk, sometimes I think about giving him a military backgroundWho’s terrified of bugs? Not himWho kills the spiders around the house? KyleTheir favourite place? The bedWho pays the bills? Her husband lmaoDo they have any fears for their future? Uh yeah getting caught and getting killedWho’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? CarmenWho uses up all of the hot water? CarmenWho’s the tallest? KyleWho’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? CarmenWho wanders around in their underwear? CarmenWho sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? CarmenWhat do they tease each other about? His first nameWho is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Carmen, he’s very clean cutDo they have mutual friends? Doubtful, maybe girls at the clubWho crushed first? He found her attractive bc he has eyes but idk about any crushAny alcohol or substance related problems? NoWho is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? CarmenWho swears the most? Equal

#rubyroleplays #character: kyle #opposite: carmen #otp: i didn't mean to fall in love tonight

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