#he's something else in this mission... I couldn't quite capture

[kuuniichi]

The guest of honor is the worst crook in town 🎩

[frownyalfred]

I know that the appeal of the Brucie Wayne identity is shameless incompetence covering up extreme hypercompetence, but another interesting aspect of Bruce's in-between persona (not quite public, but not Batman, explicitly) are the large/significant changes he makes and has to go to great lengths to keep subtle or easily dismissed by the public. Reducing something massive and complex to what amounts to a "happy accident" or forgettable coincidence on paper.

Examples:

Buying the Kent Farm. He couldn't buy the house outright, it would draw far too much attention and link his and Clark's identies, even with several steps in between. So Bruce bought the bank, then the Farm.

In Batman Begins, he buys certain gear in bulk to avoid suspicion. He gets thousands/millions of cowl prototype bases because buying ten would be strange.

All of the journalistic manuvering. It's very look here, don't look there. It's artistic. It's sleight of hand with the media. "Brucie falls into a fountain the same night Batman needs to take a night off" no, even better. Bruce, as Brucie, captures attention in a way that doesn't let you even realize that you should be paying attention to something else. He isn't taking away your attention. He has it, and that's the point.

The painstaking and painful steps he takes to fund and oversee the Justice League while maintaining credible distance. The fact that he's able to spin it as CSR without anyone putting the pieces together is impressive.

Tech/behaviors he employs to ensure the government thinks Batman is a low-level vigilante with limited access to complex resources.

Doubling up missions/priorities for events. If he can get intel and a a JL target out of a stuffy Gotham event, he can and will. And on the other side, doubling up patrol/investigations as Batman to benefit Bruce Wayne. None of that intel is a coincidence. Keeping those two lives completely separate only harms him in the long run.

[thatssomegoodsoup]

Hi! Could you do The Doctor x Reader where the Doctor turned the reader into a humanoid animatronic(?) toy when he was still Sawyer? Maybe they rejected him when they were human, found out about the experiments etc. I'll leave it up to you~

imagining so much angst for this one! (I might actually write a fic for once)

HARLEY SAWYER X READER FANFIC

CONTENT WARNING: death

Youu were first assigned to work with Harley Sawyer (to say this man was annoyed would be an understatement. He didn't want to work with anyone else). Eventually Sawyer warmed up to you, liking how well you contributed to his work. And soon, he caught himself catching feelings for you, and you caught feelings for him. You two would subtly flirt all the time during work.

And soon, due to your intellect, you climbed the ranks, from intern to researcher to junior researcher to senior researcher to second in command beside Sawyer.

And the more your rank grew, you more you learned about the experiments they were doing. The Bigger Bodies Initiative. And the more disgusted you became. They were using CHILDREN? The children they had said they would find loving homes for. They were using children to make monsters. And Harley Sawyer, your love, was at the front of it all.

To say the reader broke down would be an understatement. You had loved a monster all this time. You felt disgusted with yourself. With your job. With your feelings, your heart, everything. But, you still loved this man. So, you kept it down. But in the back of your mind, there was a voice saying you shouldn't love this man.

This voice made you become resentful. When he finally asked you out, you let everything out. You insulted him, called him a monster, and said you'd never date someone like him. This made him very angry. How DARE you reject him. You were HIS! HIS AND NOBODY ELSE'S! And you and Harley grew apart. Argument after argument. To be honest, he both hated and liked your new "feisty personality". Others saw you as a danger for how outspoken against the experiments you had become. Whispered threats were thrown around in the background. But Sawyer insisted that your knowledge was important. And it brought you some fear that Sawyer was the only reason you weren't ending up as food for an experiment or dead at the hands of a researcher or task force. I mean, he couldn't let the only one he loved die now, could he? He had to come up with another plan, before the others took matters into their own hands.

Meanwhile, you had your own plan. To save the orphans. To out Playtime Co as the monsters they truly were. But you were too late. As you went to leave the lab, to quit your job, to enact the first phase of your plan, Sawyer grabbed you and held you back, taunting you with "squirm all you want germ" and "you would be lucky to be with SOMEONE like me". He knocked you out, and made you into one of his experiments.

He made you into an animatronic version of yourself. To capture your beauty for all eternity. When you awoke, all you could feel was anger, and, in the back of your mind, heartbreak.

After the Day of Joy, you had made it your mission to find Harley and eliminate him. And you killed or hurt anyone else who stood in between you and him. You had become what you had sworn to destroy. A monster, fueled by anger, rage, and hatred.

Then came the day you finally made your way to him.

Needless to say.... you didn't stand a chance.

And as you laid dying in his robotic arms, you didn't feel....anger. You didn't feel the disgust at the actions of what he had done. You felt....regret. Guilt. A pang in your heart that you had only felt when you had started working at Playtime Co. alongside Dr.Sawyer.

And for the first time in a long time, you looked at Sawyer with something more than disgust and anger. You stared at him with love. As the light faded from your eyes, you reached for his cheek...well, the side of his TV, and smiled, your animatronic eyes betraying your current state; your eyes depicted peace and love. You watched as his eye slowly turned fearful. He gripped your animatronic form tighter, holding onto something so fragile. You fell limp, taking your final breath in his arms. And he held tighter.

The look of horror in his eye when you reacted with love instead of rage and fear for the first time in many years could not be described. He felt...sadness. Regret. Grief. For the first time in his life.

He sat there in shock for the longest time.

And then....willpower, longing, a strong desire, overtook his mind.

No. NO. He has to find a way to bring you back. He has to bring you back. He HAS TO. He will bring you back. He WILL bring you back. He WILL find a way.

"I will bring you back."

"My dear love."

"I don't care what it will cost me."

"This isn't how I'll let it end...."

I hope this was what you were expecting! I don't really write fics, I normally write....oneshots? Headcanons? But I saw the prompt and had to go for it! I'm honestly really proud of how this turned out.

credit for divider: @nicodefresas

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Leonardo's First Love—Splinter's Talk

When Leo realized his heart was being divided, he felt afraid. 

His attention had always been captured by his family and his mission—he knew what it was like to love them. But never had he thought his love was going to be snatched up, split, and taken almost wholly by someone of the race that thought they were monsters. 

When Leo noticed the pull towards something else, something new, he pushed himself away. 

He found himself tonight an observer to soft skin, a vulnerable but inviting form that seemed to master existing as is without striving for status-quo. And it was entrancing, desirable; sparked sensations in him he had put under wraps years ago as a teen. Useless instinct. Basic drive. He had more to expect from the world, and expected more, he did…but every night, went back to the same old scenario. Her. 

"Get out of my head," he groaned as he laid up in the quiet lair when he was supposed to be resting, lost in thought. Smooth curves. A small stature against his. Hands, running down—he paused. Somewhere in the middle of a fantasy, he'd heard the words "I love you". That brought him back to the fact that it wasn't just desire. For that there were things he felt embarrassed to indulge in sometimes; but it didn't help anymore. Because those people in the screens, the words on a page of an R-rated book, were not her. Couldn't be, even if he tried. He wanted to know for just a moment what it was like to be human. To have that possibility of love there for the taking. And to never go for it, with all the permission those men had just for being human, he was disgusted. Feeling bitter over that fact sent his mind into overdrive—because he would feel even worse if some man did go for it with her. Like a walking contradiction, he was fighting with himself every step of the way. From she should stay away, to she should be with me. 

He got up to practice some forms. Maybe do maintenance on his flexibility. Sharpen his katanas. Anything to stop thinking and start doing. Somewhere during his steady training, he heard Master Splinter enter. 

"What is the matter, my son?" asked Splinter. He always knew even when his more stoic child Leonardo was troubled. 

"What's the matter? Nothing's the matter. I'm fine," Leo replied, balancing on one leg. "[Y/N] should head home, it's almost time for patrol." 

Splinter sat cross-legged down on a cushion with a slight smile. "So quick to mention [Y/N], even when you're preoccupied," he commented, "I told her she was welcome to stay whenever she liked. To repay for her generosity." That generosity being, stocking their fridge with things they couldn't get a hold of, to help out the heroes of New York. Something along the lines of making sure they were eating right for all they did. 

Leo paused, "What? I'm not quick, I was just saying…Splinter, it's weird having someone around now." 

"Does not have to be 'weird'," Splinter said. Leo felt his black eyes on him even when turned around. He was flustered, still going through the smooth motions of his kata. "Tell me what is really going on, Leonardo. I know you have something on your mind." 

Giving up his rotations, Leo slumped a little as he stepped off of the pedestal, setting his katanas down as he faced his father. "I don't know what's up with me, Master. I just don't get it." 

Splinter gave a knowing hum. Still, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It seems like you've been quite bothered over [Y/N], my son."

He knew he couldn't hide anything from Splinter. There was no point in deflecting longer; he was only embarrassing himself. Finally, he admitted, "I can't…you know the way it is, Master, it'll never work. She's cool with us, but she's a human. And I'm a mutant." He sat down before his father on a plain mat. 

"Yes, a very beautiful human, too," the old rat mused, gently stroking the longer hairs of his chin. Leo flinched and opened his mouth to switch the focus of the conversation, but Splinter beat him to it. "Surely a woman like that would not ever spend money on, cook for, and give quite undivided attention to such a mutant when he's training. You are correct, my son, it's over." 

Leo's face flushed cold, blood rushing to his cheeks as he listened to his father. "Master Splinter! I'm being serious!" he fussed as he leaned forward onto his palms. "I don't know what to do, I—" 

"—want to stop feeling this way, yes, I know," Splinter finished for him. "Oh, young love." 

It was quiet for more than a moment. Leo's face softened, his blue eyes studying his father's as he gave Leo a look of acknowledgement. He gathered the courage stuck in his gut fluttering about his stomach, mind bouncing between [Y/N] and what his dad was saying. "I made myself stop thinking about love and stuff a long time ago. Mikey's always going on about it. I know Raph wants to be accepted more than anything, and Donnie, he's got his secrets. I'm supposed to be the example. I was supposed to show them we can live and not care. That our lives are worthwhile even without humans being involved. But now…" 

Splinter raised a brow at him. 

"I'm in love," Leo said. "And—and want it so badly." 

Splinter reached forward to place a hand on his shoulder. As soon as [Y/N] had entered their lives, he knew this day was going to come for one of his sons. It was inevitable, he thought. "Welcome to manhood, my son, this was fated to happen at some point. I've only been waiting since she arrived." 

Leo felt exposed. He felt unsure, and that uncertainty was driving him insane. He was always steadfast in his approach. Knowing he was a fish out of water in this situation disarmed him. 

"Master Splinter, what do I do? Tell me." 

Splinter's idle smile left as the tone turned  more serious suddenly, adding to Leo's growing discomfort. "You must understand that having [Y/N] means that your burden will grow. Not only will it be your brothers you will have to protect, but her, as well. It is your job to defend her from anything that could put her in harm's way. She is not built to fight like you. She is vulnerable, and being affiliated to us will only add to the dangers already present in this world. That is what you must come to terms with. But you must not ignore your heart, either." 

Having another body to look after. He contemplated that before answering. When he thought about defending her, it did not feel like an added chore. He wanted to. What was he so strong for if not to also protect the woman he loved? And what he had said before…could she have felt the same way? 

"You've prepared me more than enough to be able to handle another person, Master." 

He wanted nothing more than to hold her. That was something he could not deny. He enjoyed being an observer to a way of life so different from his; femininity, not always being the one taking care of others. He loved his family, but at times, leading was tiring. He wanted to forget about it for just a little bit, maybe lay down, be with someone he didn't have to "manage".

Splinter would have been lying to have said he wasn't surprised at all. But he knew his sons, inside and out—Leonardo had iron will. 

"It is your choice, Leonardo," Splinter said amiably. 

His choice? He wanted to laugh. There almost wasn't a choice. He felt like every road led back to her. It was either face his fears, or stay awake every night plagued with the possibilities of what could be. And he didn't handle fear well. It twisted his stomach and ate him up inside when he felt uncertain, afraid. God, one word is all I need from her. Just one "yes". One touch. One kiss.  He wanted to feel her hands explore his plastron, run along the edge of his shell. Love what made him, him. 

Overcoming the hesitance he felt, he let out a deep breath, committing to a final answer. " I don't know how, but...I want to try. I can't let this go. There has to be a reason all of this happened. If everything that's happened to us up until now has been destiny...I can believe it for this, too. Thank you, master."

Just felt like writing our leader in blue having a talk with his father 😌 Going to make this a little mini series for all the boys!

[reginaphalangelobster]

Perfect

Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Summary: Steve wants the perfect photo.

Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, both reader and Steve are nervous blushing messes but Steve is definitely worse, slightly insecure reader but not really, I think that's all.

You and Steve were pretty close friends, you started off joining him on his morning runs and pretty soon you formed a friendship. You taught him things of the modern world and he told you all his old stories from the 30s and 40s. With a lot of time, you taught him how to send texts. After he grasped the concept he really enjoyed it. It took him a while to work up the nerve to send you a selfie but when he finally did he had the biggest, goofiest smile and the second you saw it you burst out giggling. It quickly became his new contact photo. He asked you for one and you sent him a photo in which you just had a simple smile. It was a nice photo but to Steve, something about it didn't capture your true beauty. He made it his mission to get the perfect photo of you, one in which you were completely, truely you.

He would stare at his sketches of you and see a different version of you. He would see you raw, he always sketched you when you weren't looking so you couldn't pose or put on a smile. In his sketches he caught your genuine side. Like when you'd furrow your brows slightly if you were late to the kitchen and all the milk was gone or that time you and he went to the park and a butterfly landed on your finger. Every time he saw your innate, unfiltered beauty he would take a mental photograph that he'd never forget. But that wasn't quite enough, he wanted a real photograph.

On his last birthday Tony got Steve a camera.

'Maybe now you can take a photo instead of staring all the time' he said looking at you.

Steve went to his room and dug the camera back out. He bought some film and waited for the perfect opportunity. He spent the next few weeks snapping photos when you weren't looking but none of them were right. He thought you looked beautiful in all of them but it still wasn't what he was looking for. Speaking technically those photos could have won awards but he still couldn't see you.

Some random day you asked Steve if he wanted to go for a walk through the park, he obviously said yes. He took a bag with him so he could hide his camera, not wanting to raise your suspicions. You decided to get some strawberry ice cream from a quaint little cart. You asked steve if he wanted any but he declined thinking this would be the perfect chance to snap the photo. You started to walk back through the park, ice cream in hand, and for some unknown reason, you felt extra happy today. You didn't know why but you had your suspicions, namely Steve. You always found yourself smiling when entered the room and just generally happier in his presence. You were walking slightly a head of Steve as he had slowed in hopes to take the picture. Then it happened. He saw you. He quickly pressed the camera button and he finally got it. The perfect picture. You heard the strange clicking sound and looked at Steve. You walked over to him and asked about the camera to which he blushed and stared to stutter.

'I-I just wanted to get a-a-um-a photo' he said, his face painted in a bright red blush.

'If you wanted a photo you could've just asked, Steve' you replied, stifling a giggle at his adorable, nervous behaviour.

'No I couldn't, that-that's the point'

'What point?'

'You're always beautiful, but I wanted to get a photo of the real you, underneath everything else you're amazingly beautiful in the mundane moments'

Your heart fluttered at his words, he'd said you looked beautiful before but you always thought he was just being nice, but not now, now he was truly genuine.

A small, pink blush began to creep up your neck and onto your cheeks.

'Th-thank you' you muttered sheepishly 'can I see it?'

He fumbled with the buttons and showed it to you.

'It's beautiful' you said, mesmerised by the photo. 'I mean-' you blushed, not wanting to sound vain. 'I didn't know I looked like that, how did you get it to look so good?' you ask, still surprised by Steve's actions.

'You always look like that'

'No I don't'

'To me you do'

You both blush more as you stare up into his big, blue eyes. You eventually, turn your eyes back to the camera in your hands and you see more photos.

'Steve, how many photos did you take?'

'I wanted it to be perfect, like you'

You stare back up at the man who you just noticed is standing very close to you. He moved one of his arms up and placed a hand on your face, gently cradling the back of your head, his thumb softly caressing your cheek as he held your gaze. He brought his other hand up and lightly rested it on your waist. You brought a hand to his cheek mirroring his touch on you. He leaned down slowly, giving you plenty of time to back out, which you sure as hell weren't going to do. His lips were unbelievably soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, capturing them in what truly was the perfect moment.

[akutasoda]

hello, may I request jing yuan with a teen!reader who is jealous of yanqing? - they are around the same age as him, a new cloud knight who is an orphan, they try really hard to get the generals attention, even making him tea, buying presents etc. they want to be like yanqing, and are a bit jealous of the relationship with jy and yanqing, so they always try to prove themselves, even sacrificing food and sleep for their training, and are reckless during missions (bonus points if yanqing or jing yuan is present at the mission, they would literally fight until they pass out)

to prove oneself worthy

synopsis - all you ever wanted was somebody to pay attention to you and the one person that does so is already doing so to somebody else

includes - jing yuan ft yanqing - all platonic

warnings - gn!reader, orphan reader, slight angst, fluff, sacrificing food and sleep?, passing out?, jealousy, wc - 1.6k

taglist - @teddirika

you're parents weren't around. it was a simple fact, whether they had simply disappeared or died was unknown to you. all you ever knew was that you had no outstanding memories of them and that they certainly weren't atound anymore. this fact made it so you couldn't really care less for where they were or what had happened to them, they were rarely a thought that crossed your mind.

an orphan roaming around the streets of the luofu would bring attention, especially when you were resorting to any means necessary to survive and get by. petty thefts and minor acts of aggression were regular occurrences in your day to day live, cultivating a set of skills that aided in your fight for survival - including swift escapes from the cloud knights. an honest part of yourself really believed that you'd be a theif your entire life but a silver haired general thought otherwise.

jing yuan had become aware of the young one evading capture and committing very basic and mainly harmless crimes, how could he not? a part of him could sympathise with your situation, he understood that it was clearly your only mean of survival and so he didn't think that someone with their whole life ahead of them should be confined to the four walls of prison. your skills were impressive, there was a reason you hadn't been caught yet, so jing yuan thought that with the right guidance you would become a fine knight.

he would set out to find you himself, to personally extend his offer and hr wouldn't force you. if you declined then he had no choice but to arrest you himself and so he could only hope that you would see what he was trying to do and accept the offer. luckily for the both of you, you took up his offer. you understood that this would be the better way to pay for your crimes and would help you build a better future for yourself - earning back the trust of the luofu citizens you stole from.

what became pretty apparent very quickly was your unconscious growing attachment to the general. in between your training you would seek out jing yuan and if he wasn't busy you'd stick by his side. jing yuan was always incredibly busy and so you always tried to garner what spare attention he had left and demonstrate to him that his faith in you had not been misplaced - even going as far to bring him legally obtained presents.jing yuan was the only person to ever give you some kind of hope, somebody who believed you could be more than a street thief. it was evident that you would eant to thank him in some way, prove that his help would not go wasted.

jealousy was a vile emotion that made prople do horrendous things, it could break people apart and even force someone's hand to do something vile and unforgivable. you were no stranger to taking to underhanded tactics and resorting to frowned upon actions, so in any scenario you wouldn't have an issue with jealousy. this time it was different. you had been introduced to yanqing and saw him quite often, he was jing yuan's retainer afterall. there was something about him that just made you jealous.

you soon realised that it was his closeness to the general paired with his skills as a swordsman. yanqing had everything you could ever want. he had the generals attention, he had impeccable skills with a sword and he even was a capable knight without one and that made a vile anger boil inside you. but you wouldn't act on your jealousy. if you did you knew that jing yuan would be disappointed in you, he probably wouldn't want to ever look at you again and you would've proved to be a waste of his efforts. so you opted for a slow fix to your jealousy, working day in and day out to improve your skills to prove that you could be better than yanqing.

practically every minute of your day was spent with a sword in your hand, eventually coming to tell yourself that you weren't doing enough. you had managed to best every cloud knight more than once and decided that they simply weren't going to help you anymore, so you started sneaking away. in the dead of knight you'd head to mara-struck areas and defeat them - you didn't care that you lost out on your sleep. meals soon became irrelevant aswell, only ever stopping for a snack when you physically couldn't continue no more. you told yourself that it would all pay off in the end.

jing yuan noticed your absence pretty quickly, especially when even the other cloud knights would start claiming they hadn't seen you for days. a small part of him wondered if you were slipping back into your habits for stealing but he didn't want to think you would. he started piecing things together when he would see how fatigued you look and would try and question you when he was informed of how often your weary body would end up in lady bailu's care. he would ask bailu and she would tell him how your body would often not have enough nutrients to function properly and that your sleep was limited. jing yuan tried to confront you multiple times but you always weakly pushed him away and told him that you just wanted to train more.

he started sending yanqing on missions with you to keep an eye on you but you didn't take it that way, to you it was a dig in the face. to you jing yuan no longer saw you as a capable fighter and was trying to get you replaced on your missions. you wouldn't let that happen. unfortunately due to the lack of sleep and prioer nutrients in your body, your thoughts clouded over and so all your fights became clumsy attempts to wield a sword. reckless actions would be taken and eventually you'd pass out with too many unnecessary cuts, only slightly mitigated by the fact yanqing was there but you pushed him away from helping.

yanqing would soon find himself carrying your unconscious body back to luofu's infirmary's and lady bailu would have to be called in as the other healers simply couldn't fathom your injuries. jing yuan would also be contacted and would be there as soon as he could. each time you'd wake back up, wearily push everyone away and leave before any asked you anything. the next time anyone would see you would be in the same scenario - you passed out on a mission being dragged back to the infirmary.

jing yuan began to worry. each and every time you looked worse and worse but bailu always said the same things about exhaustion and lack of nutrients. jing yuan knew you were purposefully skipping meals and sleep in the name of training but he didn't understand why. he had a small inkling that it was to do with yanqing but he refused to believe you would resort to such extremes over something like this. eventually he had enough, when you woke up again from passing out on a mission he stopped you from leaving and told you dead straight that he was withdrawing you from your duties and that you were going to stay under care in the infirmary.

you were broken by the news. you had worked all day and night to get better at being a cloud knight, to beat yanqing and know all your hard work was to go waste because jing yuan didn't want you on duty anymore. you insisted that you were fine and didn't need this but it became very clear that jing yuan was not going to budge from his decision. however you simply wouldn't listen and would still sneak away from the infirmary to train out of bounds with the mara-struck.

the general had enough of your reckless behaviour. he understood that you were trying to improve as a knight but you're quest to do so had made you weaker and farther away from your personal goal. jing yuan personally pushed aside his duties to seek you out when the infirmary had told him you were missing and when he found you it wasn't a new sight. he watched with a saddened expression as you sloppily and recklessly took down the enemy, he winced when he saw your body hit the ground after you finished. you were out cold again, the general carried you back to the infirmary. this time he waited, waited until you regained conscious and made sure you wouldn't run away.

he confronted you as it pained him to see your talent go to waste and it hurt him to see how you treated yourself in the name of training. eventually he managed to weed the reasons for your behaviour out of you and due to your sheer exhaustion you couldn't help but start allowing tears to slowly escape and roll down your face. in this moment of weakness, jing yuan saw the child he found originally and offered a hug. one you gratefully took.

[toesucker416]

the funny man

Hokazono, I appreciate you for making this image so much. Obviously, it's hilairious, but it also helps me in my quest for understanding Kuguri. Let's talk about what I've learned about the funny man.

Kuguri, in this chapter, is defined by a split between duty and desire. He's been given a job by the Hishaku: capture Seiichi Samura's daughter to use her as leverage. But what he truly wants, more than anything else, is a good sword fight. But let's take that one step further.

"A sword fight is a conversation"

This provides connective tissue between Kuguri, and the member of the Hishaku we currently understand the best, Hiruhiko. The thing hiding at the bottom of these terrorist's heart, that dream that they want most, is genuine human connection. A human connection that they only know how to express through violence.

Here we see Kuguri hitting the Bachi Geeked Out Eye Roll, signature technique of Hiyuki and Sojo. It's a humorous face, but it's also Hokazono's shorthand for murderous rage. And we can see why.

As previously established, swordsmanship is important to Kuguri. It's communication itself, and the closest this strange hot topic man has ever gotten to human connection. It's also something he's gotten quite good at - the chapter's action is sure to tell us he's developed his sword skills, but even if it didn't we saw him use the Advanced Pedestrian Technique to 236 a bus.

So in step these two kids. Well, 18, but practically kids. Fresh off the block and getting into the world of murder. And they're both treating it like it's so easy. No interest in studying, or learning.

"How can I wage a decent sword fight with a moron who disrespects the art?!"

But then, something changes. Chihiro learns from the ass beating he just got, and puts the skill of master swordsmen he's seen before into practice. This continues Chihiro failing to beat the plagiarist allegations, and thus, failing to beat the Sasuke allegations. But more than that, he defeats Hiruhiko, at least from Kuguri's perspective.

This is, in my opinion, the first real chink we've seen in the Hishaku's armor. John Hishaku is obviously playing favorites with Hiruhiko, in a way that's stunting his growth. Hiruhiko's arrogance is going to leave him underdeveloped when it comes time to put Kumeyuri into practice. Chihiro, though, had recently been humbled by his battle with Samura, and as such, was able to bring himself down to the level of learning and getting stronger.

This favoritism isn't just hurting HIruhiko's growth, though, it also neglects his other soldiers. Kuguri's been left with lingering doubts and regrets, things left unsaid. He's unbalanced on the job.

As an epilogue, let's analyze the other wants in his mind.

Hunger, Duty, Sex, Money, Sleep, Kinship. We can see that these brain segments are roughly the same size. That implies that, on some level, Kuguri puts Duty and Kinship on the same level as Hunger and Sleep. We can also see that, to Kuguri, Sex and Kinship are not the same, and that neither are his thirst for sword fighting. Is that it, then? Did my "Hishaku as isolation/the isolated" theory just die in the womb? Fool. I am a Jujutsu Kaisen fan. I have access to levels of delusion and mental gymnastics you couldn't imagine.

I believe that each of those three desires correlate to a character. Duty represents Yura, his boss, the one he answers to. Kinship represents his allies and contemporaries in the Hishaku, the ones he fights with. But as we can see in this chapter, both of them have been dismissive. Neglectful. Disrespectful. So who's that thirst to sword fight? Well, who do you think?

Chihiro, the swordsman who represented his heart's desire since the first page of this chapter. Chihiro, who listened to his words and his blade alike, and responded in kind. Chihiro, who has, as his enemy, shown him respect. This is, in my opinion, why he is abandoning his mission to fight Chihiro: he's doing it in pursuit of respect and understanding.

[soficraft]

I Really Wish I Hated You

credits: figure 1 by Pierre Auguste Cot, figure 2 by Claude Monet, figure 3 by Frank Dicksee.

Tw: idk, let me know if you find one.

Sinopsis (?): Etho is a revolutionary who is an assassin and gets assigned the job to kill the princess. It turns out the princess is more then just a fragile girl.

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

Etho found himself in a strange position. 

One day, he was trying to kill the princess hidden in her backyard; and the next, he was pretending to be her knight.

Funny how life changes. 

It’s not that he was unhappy about it, but he wasn't exactly happy. 

Etho was far from being a knight, so if it weren't for Grian and his contacts, there was no way he would have gotten the position of royal knight. Even more surprising, the princess' personal guard. Things would have been easier for him if this “Joel” dude wasn't also the princess’s guard, but he was sure he could find a way around it to carry out the rebels' plan.

Talking about Joel, he could feel the other guard’s eyes on him, following every move he made and it was unsettling. He was used to working in the shadows, not in plain sight pretending to be someone he is not. 

If he wasn't so fixated on the princess, he would return the look to the younger man, showing him he wasn't easily intimidated. Instead his eyes stay on the redhead walking in front of them as she goes to her morning class.

Not even the magnificent palace hallways, with their gleaming, polished floors, portraits of past rulers lining the walls, and ornaments so valuable they could feed an entire city, could draw his eyes away from the princess.

There was something about her that captured his attention more than anything else. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it was there.

Maybe it was the way she carried herself, so elegant and so different to what Etho was used to. Or it could be the way her eyes shone with fire, as if she was always ready for battle. She was dressed in confidence and not in vanity as everyone in town thought.

It was even weird for him to be thinking this way about a royal, but it wasn't like he could help it.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice that both Joel and the princess had stopped walking.  She was standing in front of a big door. 

Joel moved and Etho wasn't sure what he was doing, but he was quick to follow. 

The knight opened the door and Etho stood by his side awkwardly.

He could feel the princess’s eyes watching him closely. It was very obvious that she didn't trust him.

That didn't really concern him, winning her trust wasn't Etho's mission.

After she stepped inside the room, he went to follow, but after two steps, he noticed that Joel was standing by the door, giving him a weird look.

He tried to play it cool, and walked back awkwardly until he was standing on the other side of the door. That's when he finally looked at the room. 

It was gigantic, for Etho’s standards, and he would bet that most people would agree with him. The floor was made of polished marble, mostly pale white with veins of green and gold,the royal family’s colors. 

His eyes traveled from the floor to the walls, lined with carved stone columns and stained-glass windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, letting in sunlight. His stare keeps on going up to the ceiling, which is vaulted and high, with chandeliers hanging from it.

At the far end of the ballroom, there was a raised platform that he guessed was meant for musicians or speakers. He doesn't really know what the royal family would have as entertainment.

He tried his best not to show fascination and shock in his face. Well, mostly in his eyes, given that the other half is covered. When he is out of the stupor of all of it, he realized he had missed most of the conversation that the princess seemed to be having with her teacher, an old woman that only stood out because of her straight posture and serious demeanor.

Etho looked at the princess. She was frowning and nodding at the teacher’s words. He thinks she is planning something by the way she shoots pointed looks at him from time to time, and then seems to lose herself in thought. That makes him extremely nervous for no reason, which is new to him. 

He doesn't feel nervous when killing, spying, or stealing. He is used to all those things. He is always ready and always has a plan. He even has a back up plan for the back up plan. 

It seems to be that he doesn't know what to do with himself when a pretty young lady looks at him. 

Great. Fantastic, Etho. 

His heart beat quickened when he saw the princess point in his direction, and he prays it was Joel who she was going to when she starts to walk in their direction. 

Her eyes don't leave his, and he can't move them away for some magic reason.

His hands are a little bit sweaty and he is using all his mental strength to keep them still by his side, and not fidgeting.

To his disgrace, the redhead stops right in front of him. She exudes security, and he hopes he is tricking her to think the same of him. There’s only one thing the princess says to him.

“You are going to be my partner for this class.”

She says it as if he should know what those words mean.

He is quick to follow her, that much was clear. They reach the teacher, and the princess is positioned in front of him, as if expecting something. He doesn't know what to do… is he supposed to do something? 

He thinks that touching the princess would be an offense to her, and he doesn't even know how he should hold her to dance. He was never taught those things. He knows nothing about formal dances or the proper way to ask a lady for a dance. 

All he does is look between the teacher and the student, waiting for one of them to tell him what to do. 

“Well, go on, sir,” The old lady moves her hands indicating him to move. 

“I’m sorry… miss. It has been years since this was taught to me, could you remind me of the basics, please?” He managed to say, coming up with an excuse.

He’s used to lying and thinking quickly to get out of dangerous situations. He wasn't exactly satisfied with his excuse, but he was proud of himself for managing to come up with something under the scrutinizing gaze of the lady in front of him.  

The teacher lets out an audible sigh, and he can feel her disapproval.

“Your Highness, you should have stuck with your usual partner,” the woman speaks with a comfort that surprises him. 

He isn’t sure what he had expected the interaction between the princess and her teacher to be like, but it wasn’t this. 

Maybe he was expecting fear or coldness between them, but the warmness in the older woman’s eyes was proof of his wrong prejudice. 

“It was getting boring to dance with the same partner every time,” the redhead says with a giggle. “So please, help me, my knight.”

The tone in her voice doesn't match the look she is giving to him.

He feels like she is threatening him with her eyes. 

 For some reason, her green iris pulls him in, the intensity of them makes him feel things he can’t admit. Etho forgets for a second where he is and what he is supposed to do. 

The teacher, clicking her tongue and stepping between them, brings him back to reality. 

Her hands are firm, but not unkind, as she places them lightly on Etho’s arms.

“Back straight. Shoulders down. Chin up,” She gives him a look, analysing him. “You are not stalking prey, you are presenting yourself with poise,” she says, nudging his elbow into position with practiced ease.

Etho stiffens, resisting the urge to step back. He forces himself to follow her instructions, though his body is screaming that this is unnatural. She moves to the princess next, adjusting her only slightly with a gentle touch to the waist and a nod of approval.

Then the instructor returns to him, guiding his hand to the princess’s waist, Etho feels himself stop breathing.

His other hand is lifted and placed into the palm of the princess. Her fingers are warm, and much smaller than his. She doesn’t look away from him, which doesn’t help his nerves at all.

He looks away, worried that if he kept staring at her, he would blush.

That’s a mistake, because his eyes land at her cleavage due to the difference in height. He sure is seeing more than intended. 

He gulps, deciding that the best course of action for his well being is to look to the ceiling.

Don’t get him wrong, he is not a prude.

Well, maybe he is a little bit of a prude.

But that's only because he had to spend most of his life working hard to get  money.

No free time, no breaks, just work, work, and more work. 

When he did get a little bit of free time, he would use it to sleep or train. 

It's not like he had never touched himself, or he didn't know about sex. After all, he was a teenager once, and  growing up in poverty, he was surrounded by brothels  and prostitutes. 

It’s just that he never had the time to appreciate a woman's body like now. He never had the time or the opportunity to touch another person's body in such an intimate way. This felt like something very intimate to do with the princess. 

He had never encountered someone who he found as attractive as the princess. 

So yes, maybe he was getting red just by her touch and the view of her collarbone and breasts. Maybe some parts of his body were reacting to her proximity as if he was once again a teenage boy.

This felt way out of his comfort zone.

He could feel her breath on his neck, one of her hands on his shoulder and the other holding his. His mind was conjuring thousands of scenarios where her lips were on his skin and her hands on his body.

It was bad.

“You lead with your left foot. Do not stare at the floor. Keep your eyes up, ideally on your partner,” the teacher continues, stepping aside and clapping her hands once. 

He feels like thanking her, because the sound of her voice helps him a lot with his problem. 

“One-two-three, one-two-three. Step, glide, turn.”

Etho tries to follow, tries to remember something about this style of dance, but his mind keeps going in between reality and his fantasies.

The teacher sighs. “You are not wrestling. This is a waltz. It is a conversation without words.”

He swallows hard, feeling like everyone in the room can tell what he is thinking. 

He keeps trying, it’s stiff, awkward, and he steps on Gem’s foot almost immediately. She lets out a sharp breath, and he mutters a quiet apology. She doesn't seem angry, just curious, and still a little bit threatening. 

The teacher circles them like a hawk, occasionally correcting his stance with a prod of her finger, or snapping at him to lift his elbow or hold his frame.

“For the love of the realm, you are not dragging a sack of potatoes through the ballroom!” she snaps after his third misstep.

He has faced blades in the dark, poison in his cup, and arrows from towers, but somehow this is worse.

He is sure he’s imagining the tension between himself and the princess, but that doesn’t make it less distracting. He is battling with the man he is, trying to stick to his role, but damn the woman in front of him is making things so difficult. Her eyes are on him at all times, letting out sighs that he isn’t sure she knows she is letting out. Biting her lip when she seems lost in her thoughts and when she is met with his eyes on her, giving him a look that only screams defiance. 

It makes him spiral in all kinds of emotions. It makes him imagine all kinds of outcomes. 

Etho is certain that he shows her more of him in this little time they have been hand in hand, pretending to dance, while a battle occurs between them, than he has shown any woman before. It scares him.

He was so busy trying to focus that he let all his defenses down, and she had taken the opportunity to read him like a book. 

Looking at her in the eyes, the glimpse of success in them told him all he needed to know.

She did all this on purpose. She knew exactly the effect she had on him and she had used it to her advantage.

He was an idiot, all blush and embarrassed by her simple touch.

In that moment he saw the manipulative woman that everyone thought she was. The woman he had started to think didn’t exist.

Once again the princess had proved him wrong.

For the first time since he tried to kill her, Etho felt like he hated the princess. 

._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Note: A BIG thank you to @serendipitys-dragon @self-righteous-idiot and @finn-hasnoclue for beta reading this! is the first time i ask for beta readers and it was awesome, they help so much.

[hiscrookedsaint]

𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

#: 𝐕𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kaz x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Y/N and the crew infiltrate the Little Palace to capture Alina, but the mission goes a different direction. As Y/N's powers grow more darker and secrets from her past emerge, an all-powerful Grisha sets his sights on her.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3457

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Blood, gore, mentions of injury & mentions of death.

𝐀/𝐍: Thank you for taking the time to read this fic I've been working hard on! :)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

~Y/N~

After doing the last shows, the time has come. Inej and I had gone through a route that made us unseen in the Little Palace. Using my powers with the most powerful Grisha in the country is a risk I couldn't take; I would've been a prisoner in a heartbeat.

We go to the meeting point where Inej, Arken, and I get our uniforms from Kaz. Inej is first. "Is it my size?" she asks. "You have to ask?"

"Do you remember what happened last time we did this? Got me a man's uniform." Kaz says, "It worked, didn't it?" "Just be happy I'm eager to get out of... this." She says.

Kaz hands me mine, and I look down at it. It looks like it would fit. I gaze at him before joining Inej to wear our regular clothes and the guard uniform. I made sure my eyes were still E/C in a small mirror.

Inej and I get near our positions, where Kaz stands by the doorway where the actual demonstration occurs. But before we go to our spots, we stop by Kaz. "It's reflective glass. You ounce the light into that, and people won't know whether it's coming or going."

The applause dies, and Alina gets on the main stage with General Kirigan. "Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will bring liberation to us all." he says. Kirigan summons shadow all around the room with a clap of his hands.

Alina started with a small ball of light, rotating it in her right hand. She then brought a second light to her left, pushing the two light sources near the glass. The chandelier's colors were gorgeous.

The light then explodes within the center of the room, flashing a tiny bit of darkness before it is restored. Everyone then praises Sankta Alina. The festivities continue, and we realize Alina hasn't been taken to the Fitting Room.

Inej picks up on the lateness and goes up to Kaz. "The lynx flush was to smoke out Arken." She says. "Like I said, our futures depend on this. I saw two identical dresses in the fitting room. The target is wearing one, and an Inferni about the same height and build was measured for the other. They need the target for the demonstration, but afterward at the reception, that's when they'll deploy a double for security reasons. So, I set Arken after the double while we stay on the target."

I realize what he meant. "Arken will get caught, after what he did." I add. Kaz says, "He chose his fate in Novokribirsk when he met with Zlatan."

"What if you're wrong? What if we sand bagged him with a lynx flush, and the meeting had nothing to do with this?" Inej says. "The only two men in the world who profit off the Fold? Doubtful. Now."

The three of us are now proceeding with the next phase. We approach her, and Kaz begins, "Miss Starkov. We are to escort you to dinner. Could you come with us, please?" I whisper something under my breath and make it so Alina won't recognize me.

Her mind now thinks I am someone else, different.

"I thought, um... A-Actually, I am quite hungry." Kaz guides the direction, and we follow her. We are met with Kirigan, saying. "Thank you. I'll take her from here."

He holds out some flowers for her. "For you." The General says. The two walk off together, and we turn to each other. "All right. Plan B." says Kaz.

We see the male Inferni from earlier give us a look. Our cover is blown, and I can't do anything drastic in front of all these people. "Scratch that. Plan F. Y/N, Inej, stay on the target and meet me at the escape route."

"He's an Inferni. Don't take chances."

With that, Inej and I are off on our side mission. I flick off the transformation glamour I used for Alina earlier. From what we saw, nothing so far. "Y/N." I look at Inej. "I can handle tracking the target, make sure Kaz isn't in trouble." I nod and hastily go in the direction Kaz went. I hear a commotion near the church area and make it that way.

I reach a higher seating area and see the Inferni hold up fire at Kaz. He's going to kill him. Using my hands, I channel my powers to hold the Inferni in the air. I feel my eyes glow and turn the Inferni towards me.

I was angry at him that he dared to attempt to kill Kaz. I use both hands to kill his mind, destroy it.

Corrupt it.

I reach the Inferni's breaking point, and all his limbs and fingers snap. After the snap of his jaw, his eyes gush out with blood before his body falls back to the ground with a loud thud. Kaz looks back up at me, and I look down at the body on its side facing away from me, almost in shock.

I gaze at Kaz before using my powers to lower me to the ground, having the aura all around me. After feeling my feet touch, I run over to the Inferni to slowly watch blood come out of his mouth and eyes and then onto the hard floor.

I take a deep breath and realize the horror of what I did. We hear more personnel come our way. "We need to go," Kaz says. I flip over the body to look at his face. His life was just sucked out of him.

I froze in shock, shocked that the extremes of my powers could go this far. "Y/N, look at me. Look at me." I hesitantly looked at him and felt my eyes glow. "You saved my life," he assured me. I nodded in response, and we ran off.

Inej had met us, and after the rest of the Little Palace—I swear it's a maze—we made our way to the final meeting point over by the Stables.

We approached Jesper and he could tell something was off. "What happened? You okay?" "She's real, Jesper. She made the light sing." I looked over at Inej, then over at Kaz. "We lost her." he said.

Jesper gives us a devious smirk and adds, "Did we?" Kaz says, "We don't know where she is."

"Don't we?" Jesper is starting to break, but I'm unsure if it's good. The four of us begin our walk to the carriage, and we follow. "Just ask," says Jesper. "Jesper." "Just ask," he repeats. One by one, we all climb into the carriage, and Inej and I climb up top while Kaz and Jesper are at the lower part of the seating.

"Just ask," Kaz says, getting settled in his seat. "Fine. Do we have a fix on where the target is?" I close my eyes and try to find Alina. My powers tell me that she is in our carriage, the one that is moving—that sneaky Jesper.

The ride was long and dark that night. East Ravka was our next location, and Jesper had explained that Alina had just happened to hop in our carriage storage because it was leaving soon.

That was fate on how we got the Summoner.

By the time sunrise hit, it was almost midday. Jesper had parked the carriage at a hidden spot off the road so it wouldn't be too distracting. Inej had heard some noises from the trunk in the back, and we were on alert.

We removed the guard uniforms since we had our regular clothing underneath. We all went to the trunk, and I closed my eyes quickly. I used my powers to make Alina think I was someone else, not Y/N.

I cannot risk Alina recognizing me. It would jeopardize this mission.

The four of us stand waiting by the trunk, Inej next to Jesper and I between Jesper and Kaz. Suddenly, the lock pops out of the trunk.

Alina opened the lid and immediately saw us waiting. She got onto the ground and held her hands up in defense. "We don't want any trouble," Jesper assured her. "Neither do I, so I'll just be on my way."

Kaz holds up his cane against the trunk so she can't escape. I slightly twirl my hands around and feel the magic in my hands. "Clearly, you want out of East Ravka. But we can help you. We have a secure route through the Fold."

"I prefer to travel alone." Alina says. "Don't be rash. You stick with us, everybody gets what they want." "I'm not being anyone's captive ever again. So step aside and let me pass." Kaz finally adds to the conversation.

He says, "I'm afraid we can't let that happen." Jesper gently places his hand on one of his guns, and Alina blinds us with a wave of light, causing all of us to flinch. Inej looks deep into her eyes. I can't imagine her heart is torn.

Because my heart was torn too, I wanted to explain to her what had happened to me, but I couldn't.

I feel my foot dig in the dirt, ready to run after her. Maybe if I get her alone, I can explain. Kaz puts his cane before me and nods at Inej to go after her. I look up at Kaz, confused.

He says, "I want you to track her from a distance. Know every move she takes."

I nod and sit criss-crossed behind the carriage on the floor. I flick my wrists upwards and feel the warm aura of my indigo power above my hands. I close my eyes and concentrate on her.

Alina Starkov.

Flashes of the Inferni that I killed flood my brain. Something dark is coming. My innocence is fading. I find myself seeing Alina running away and hiding.

I hear a light frequency in my surroundings and see my background change. It wasn't the same as where Alina was. It was the forest surrounding the town. There was someone my age with a shaved head and looked like a First Army soldier.

The closer I walk towards him, the frequency intensifies. I try to touch his hand to see if I can remember anything.

Once I do, I feel a flash of memories of Alina, myself, and me at the orphanage. I realize that the boy who was with Alina and me is Mal.

He was essential to my childhood, but I can't figure out why. My mind is not telling me.

"Malyen," I whisper.

I wake up with my heart beating out of my chest and my breaths heavy. I get up from the ground and then feel a pounding migraine surround my whole head. I wince at the pain it gives, trying to shake off my anxiety.

Blood rushes down my nose, and I get up to try to find Jesper and Kaz. "I couldn't find her..." I lean against the carriage and feel the blood coming out of my nose drip onto my hands.

My vision is hazy, and I try to concentrate on gaining focus again. I remembered another childhood friend.

I see a flash of disappointment on Kaz's face, and I look down in anger. Jesper rubs my shoulders to stop the pain.

"We'll meet at the local pub at the next bell. The carriage will be rigged with the right explosives and timer mechanism, so they'll open it when the other Grisha finds the missing carriage. Jesper, I expect you to set it up later."

I feel a tiny bit at ease, and I sigh. I kick a small rock in anger and use a cloth to wipe away the blood. Kaz walks away to scheme the following plan. Jesper comes over worried. "What happened back there?" he asks.

"Jes, don't tell Kaz... but I knew Alina when I was an orphan." He stops in his trail and looks back and forth. "Wait. Excuse me? But she didn't recognize you earlier." "It's because I used my powers to manipulate her mind so she would not see me. It would have been worse if she recognized me."

Jesper felt a bit bad, and I did, too. I just laid out some past trauma that I only knew of recently. "I was her best friend. The more I use my powers, the more memories emerge from my childhood, my past."

He says, "It almost feels as if something will emerge from you—in a good way, like a rebirth." I nod and shrug. We spent the rest of the day familiarizing ourselves with our routes along the city and visiting the local vendors.

When the time comes, Jesper puts the final touches on the carriage. We go to Kaz's table at the local pub and talk about the plan.

"The alarm trigger is set. Horses are ready and I've stashed the rest of our gear." "If we don't move soon, the Black General will be on top of us. We can't waste any more time looking for the girl."

Inej returns from talking with the barkeeper. "I just settled our tab with the last of our coin." "We're really gonna leave empty-handed, then?" I look at Kaz and ask, "Not to be so upsetting, but the General and his army must be on our trail. Right?"

On cue, we all hear an explosion in the distance. They're here. "Our alarm." Jesper says. "Split up, much easier to take a Grisha one-on-one than a whole squad of them. Rendezvous at the fountain."

We all get up from the table and leave with the crowd. As we reach outside, we are met with some of Kirigan's army staring directly at us. The female Inferni glares me down, anger boiling in her.

"NO!" The other Inferni was her brother, and I killed him. "Move!" Kaz yells. We all split up, and I ducked and rolled to avoid her fire attack.

After running away for a while, I am met with charcoal and other machinery in an industrial room. Inej finds me, and we both hide behind a pillar.

I whisper, "Inej, run. I can take care of her." "Y/N, you can't let me take care of this." I shake my head, and Inej runs off. This causes me to get out of hiding and use my magic to throw my auras at the Inferni charging at me.

Fighting fire like fire, but I have magical aura orbs. She grabs my arm, and I grunt in frustration. "You robbed me of my brother, now I'll rob you of your life."

I successfully get out of her hold and try to concentrate on her mind, but I can't break in. I throw a massive indigo aura ball at her, then try to roll out of the way. The Inferni's fire hits a pipe and bursts, causing me to fly into the air and land on some coal.

I quickly motion my hands to make her not see me. A burst of pain is down in my abdomen, but I try my best to shrug it off. I still hold my hands at her, then reach a better hiding spot.

I let go of my hands and then close my eyes. I have to end this brutally. I sense her mind allowing me to leave my hiding spot and lift her into the air with both hands.

Indigo auras form around both of her wrists, especially keeping them apart. Then, slowly, one is around her neck, choking her. "What I'll do to you is something one of your other Grisha can't fix."

She laughs, being very cocky. "Freak trash. I will track you down, and kill everyone that you love, and then... you." I feel my eyes glow in anger. I slowly bring her closer to me, glaring at her. Then, with a sudden twist of my hands, I did the same thing I had done to her brother.

I broke her.

Her limbs snap one by one, her jaw pops out of place, and then her eyes are reduced to nothing. I let go of her with my powers and saw her body fall to the floor. Blood oozes out of her eye sockets.

The adrenaline ends, causing a burst of pain to erupt from my right abdomen. I look down at it, bleeding immensely. I walk out of there, need to find Jesper, Inej, or even Kaz.

~Kaz~

I hoped my escape route would be flawless, but it was the opposite. I met General Kirigan on the other side of the street, emerging from the darkness.

"I know you kidnapped my Sun Summoner, and now you're going to tell me where you stashed her," he says. "We didn't take her. She fled on her own."

With the Darkling's gaze, I can't predict what he will do next. Calmly, he asks, "Where is she? I won't ask you again."

I reply. "I don't know. It was pretty clear she wasn't interested in being a captive anymore. She's probably halfway to Novyi Zem by now."

The General looks down in disappointment but smirks. "That girl with you. The one who can do unspeakable things. I know she is incredibly powerful after what she did with my Inferni."

Y/N. Why would he want her?

"If you tell me where that girl is, I'll call off my Grisha, and we can go our separate ways." "What girl? I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckles and slowly paces back and forth. "The girl is a myth, a prophecy. She can help shape Ravka back to how it should be. She would be with me and my Sun Summoner, and she wouldn't have to hide anymore. That girl is rare. Only one exists. Like calls to like, Mr. Brekker. She will find me soon enough."

Of course, Y/N would be in Kirigan's crosshairs, but not in the usual way. An eerie darkness now surrounds General Kirigan. He's going to use The Cut. I grab my powder from my bag, ready to use it.

"You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker." Once I see him motion his hands, it gives me my cue. I get a better grip on my cane and throw the powder against the ground. I try to run in the opposite direction, away from him.

Now, I need to find the others and ask Y/N if she knows what the Darkling was discussing.

~Y/N~

Today was the day I have felt the most pain in my life. I try my best to run back to everyone but not hurt myself anymore. I see the fountain and quickly run over with a hand over my wound. I stumble against the bricks and see Kaz look at me.

"Y/N."

Jesper and Inej gently grab me to hold me up. "I took care of the Inferni; she's dead." I grunt in pain and lean against Jesper. "Well, you can't manage a horse." Jesper says. "Not even riding double. We'll have to come up with another plan." Inej adds.

I hold my hand up to my eyes and see that it is soaked in blood. I look over at Kaz's gaze and see him eyeing the carriage the Darkling came in on. Kaz says, "That's a pretty nice ride." "Yes, indeed it is."

Jesper and Inej help me lean against a wall, while the rest deal with the carriage situation. Jesper and Kaz take care of the guards and Grisha. Inej approaches me with a cloth and a bucket of clean water.

"I need you to trust me, okay?" I nod, and she motions for me to sit on the ground. She kneels, grabs the cloth, and makes it wet. Then, slowly, she raises my top to reveal the wound. It runs pretty deep, and will definitely scar.

Inej also has a small bag of medical supplies with her. She used the cloth to clean my wound and clean my hand, which had blood on it. "After I put a patch on it, it should stop some pain," she says. "Inej.'

She looks at me worried.

"Thank you for helping me with everything so far." She smiles and does the final blood cleaning. Then she takes out a patch to put over my wound. "I think we will be great friends. The way you care about everyone is one of a kind."

I smile at her compliment and see Kaz look in my direction. I need to talk to him soon. "You're one of a kind, Inej. Don't ever change, please." She nods and finishes patching me up. Jesper runs over and helps me up and into the carriage.

Things must turn around. They have to.

[baeddel]

the following statements have a confidence rating of about 3/10, in other words thinking out loud:

considering 'why does Gael say 'i want that thing, your dark soul'?'

i guess when you ask "why does Gael want 'your dark soul'?" you have to look at the fact that ds3 takes place at the very end of a process which ds1 captured merely one point of. i realized this reading the Fextralife wiki for him which for some reason currently opens with the lore for Midir (from his boss soul): "Midir, descendant of the Archdragons, was raised by the gods, and owing to his immortality was given a duty to eternally battle the dark, a duty that he would never forget, even after the gods perished."

so there's war unto death against the dark, even long past the point where that makes any sense. that the world is about to end and that there is nothing left to protect from the dark means nothing; it is interpreted by them as but the bottom of the ninth, during which they must fight their hardest. and in ds3, unlike in ds1, we're not just some one undead, engaging in some process that by all available knowledge repeats forever, whereupon the phrase 'chosen undead' rings sickly sweet; we really matter, we're kind of the last guy doing it, the last undead fighting for something (that we may not quite know what for either doesn't matter; we were summoned and now we are here, and put sword to sword). so they are--at some stage, when the world has collapsed enough--not just fighting, but fighting us. it matters that it's us. so whatever exactly Gael is doing, it makes sense that at some stage he should decide that he wants our dark soul; it's dark, and it belongs to us, and at that point of the narrative, that's all that can still be of issue.

i think i may have misheard it before; i thought he wanted it so he could do something with it. i don't think he really means that. what he means is that he wants to take it and destroy it. in other words, he wants us to fight with him literally forever, until we surrender to it, lose our mind and mission, and hollow out in the ash-sand, no longer human. he may as well say 'I don't want you to complete DARK SOULS III: THE RINGED CITY.' the important part of it is really the word your; he doesn't want the dark soul [see note], in an abstract way; he doesn't want a dark soul, to call his own (we assume he does have one). he wants ours. it's one of the only times we fight a particular person for our particular selves, rather than affirming or negating History by fighting someone who fights us to affirm or negate History. and it is a battle of absolutely no consequence; we seem to fight him in a kind of pocket dimension outside of time, and when we defeat him the ash desert does not grow over with lush trees and grasses. nothing happens; and doing it doesn't help us or prevent us from lighting the last bonfire.

[note] rereading his soul description, i am not sure if it confirms or negates my reading:

Gael sought the blood of the dark soul as pigment for the Painted World. But Gael knew he was no Champion, that the dark soul would likely ruin him and that he had little hope of a safe return.

the general sense of pointlessly self-destructive combat, yes. but it does imply he wants the dark soul to do something with it. but he doesn't actually; he wants "the blood of the dark soul"; i dont know where else that concept is referenced, but you could read that as confirming what i said, since after all he wants to spill our blood, and thus "i want your dark soul" = i want you to tarry here forever = i want to spill the blood of the dark soul, with which i could in principle (but never in fact) repaint the painted world. to spill the blood of the dark soul, on this reading, would be to bleed the humanity out of someone, in effect to make someone hollow by doing something torturous to them forever. "Gael knew he was no Champion" = he couldn't stand up to us, since we're the last Champion in the world, with the remains of humanity huddled beneath us in our service; "the dark soul would likely ruin him" = we would defeat him, as (metonymically) a dark soul which he couldn't really crush.

some property of the thing being more important than the thing itself is a device they use sometimes; in Bloodborne it's "blood echoes" or as i understand it in Japanse "the wishes of blood", and precisely not the blood itself, which contains power (whereas blood itself primarily contains degeneration and self-ruin). but for Gael's blood of the dark soul it is presumably not more important at all; it may not even really exist, it's just an object in his idiosyncratic ontology of the soul. perhaps there is even some semantic carry-over with the symbolism in Bloodborne; a desire for blood is a disorganized desire that disorganizes its desirer. Gael is ruined in confusion, squandering his eternal life to (not) get something he (doesn't) want, until he becomes a destructive monster we cannot understand.

anyway, i'll have to go play ds3 again i guess. i never did beat Gael at sl1 yet. yulp.

[hatakemrs]

"Enchanted"

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader: Based on the song "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift.

Part 1: You Belong With Me

Warnings: Use of cuss words.

Gojo stood there as his girlfriend swore at him, he couldn't complain though. After all he's the one who said they should break up but it didn't matter now because he was going to make things right.

Suguru was the first to receive this good news. He was happy for his friend but warned him not to do anything stupid and blow up things with you.

On the other hand you made it your mission to avoid 'Gojo Satoru' . You started spending more time with the first years and it bothered Gojo.

"Don't you think Y/n is spending more time with the first years than with us?", Gojo pouted thinking it's been so long since you two had a proper conversation.

" It's your fault Satoru", Shoko gave him glare.

"You even stopped me from telling her about your breakup. What are you planning?", both Shoko and Geto raised their eyebrows at him.

" You'll see", Gojo just gave them a smug smile.

It was Shoko's idea to throw a party in her dorm. Yaga-sensei was out of town that day and she wasn't going to miss this chance.

Your classmates and the first years were invited to it. Honestly you weren't in the mood to attend a party but to your misfortune Shoko dragged you into it.

You noticed a certain white-haired guy was missing from the party. "He must be with his girlfriend", you thought sadly.

You were just forcing laughs and faking smiles at this moment but it all vanished when he arrived. He wore a simple black t-shirt and black joggers but still managed to steal your breath away.

" Yo", he waved hand at your direction as he talked towards you.

"Soooo how have you been?", Gojo tried to pass the sentence as a confident one but the underlying awkwardness was visible.

You snorted, " We see each other every day what type of question is that?"

"No but you have been avoiding me and I don't know what you've been upto these days", Your expressions changed and Gojo wished he hadn't been so straightforward with his words.

" Well- I-", you started but Gojo blurt out something.

"I broke up", as soon as he said that-

"SHIT SHIT THIS ISN'T GOING ACCORDING TO PLAN AT ALL. MISSION ABORT", Gojo panicked internally.

That took you by surprise, " Oh I'm sorry to hear that. You okay?", genuine concern flashed in your eyes.

"O-oh yeah- yeah. We didn't quite work out", Gojo fumbled looking in your eyes. He wondered all the time his six eyes missed this glimpse of love in your eyes while talking to him. He is so stupid.

When you went back into your room the clock marked 2am and you couldn't help but think about Gojo.

You walked back and forth in your room, a feeling of guilt took over you for feeling happy at the news. You shouldn't be enjoying this, Gojo had just ended his relationship, but to your misery you couldn't help but feel a little giddy inside.

Few weeks passed by, you and Haibara were planning to throw Nanami a secret birthday party. When you pitched the idea to Shoko, she has other plans in mind.

"We should have this party at a club!", she said with utter excitement.

" Nope. We definitely are not going to do that", you shaked your head firmly.

"Oh we definitely will."

The next thing you know was that you and others were dragged by Shoko to a club.

You didn't even want to ask where did she get all those fake ids.

Nanami definitely hated to be at this party but he didn't say anything as he saw the others were enjoying themselves.

"Sorry you have to spend your birthday at a place you hate", you took a seat beside Nanami.

"It's not like I had any other choice", he sighed while you laughed at his expression, unaware that those six-eyes captured your every movement.

Gojo wondered was this how you felt when he was in relationship? Hell you must have felt a lot worse.

" You should take your chance before someone else swoops her away", Suguru added more fuel to the fire.

"Oh Nanami would never try anything with her", it sounded like Gojo wanted to convince himself more than Suguru.

" You sure about that?", The raven haired pointed at his classmate and his junior.

Gojo turned his head to see, NANAMI IS LAUGHING?

That's a sight one can rarely see.

But isn't he the one who should be laughing at your jokes? Or making you smile like that?

Suguru saw a chance and slipped Gojo a shot.

Almost automatically he drank it. One shot. Two shot. Three. Four. Five. Until his cheeks turned the shade of red.

Gojo, then went to do something unexpected.

He stood on a table and-

"Y/N, I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING"

"Who the fuck let him drink!?", Your intuition warned you something embarrassing was about to happen.

" Oh this is going to be interesting ", a devilish grin appeared on Shoko's face.

" PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE~

PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOU~"

"Is he singing the lyrics to Enchanted?", Shoko howled with laughter.

" He definitely is", your emotions were somewhere in between embarrassment and happiness.

Needless to say all of you were thrown out of the club and Gojo fell asleep so Suguru had to carry him.

"Best birthday ever", Nanami gave the already asleep scocerer a glare.

The next day Gojo woke up in Suguru's dorm with a severe headache.

" Morning princess, It's time to wake uppp~", Suguru sang, he couldn't wait until Satoru remembers what he did last night.

Suguru handed him a hangover drink.

"Do you remember anything from last night?", this is going to fun.

" No? Did I do something?", Gojo was way too casual. Suguru couldn't let the golden opportunity slip so he took out his phone and showed him the video he recorded last night.

It took Gojo 2 seconds before he could register what exactly happened in the video and when he did he wished the ground would swallow him right then.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME? OH NO HOW CAN I FACE Y/N NOW?", it was funny to see how red his face had turned.

"In our defense you told us "You'll see" when Shoko asked about your plans. If this was your plan then it was pretty shit", Suguru put his hands up in defense.

Gojo groaned and put his head in his hands. He would rather die than face you now.

Gojo left Suguru's room quietly in the hope of not running into you but universe had other plans that day.

He was walking down the hall when he ran into you.

"Oh", you both said in unison.

Satoru rubbed the back of his head not knowing what to say, " Hey...?" God that was awkward.

"Gojo we need to talk", there it comes, the moment he wanted to avoid.

" Listen Y/n I'm so sorry about last night. I know that this is not what you want to hear after the shit I pulled there but-", Gojo paused and then,

"-but Y/n, I want you to know that it's you. It's always been you. I was stupid enough to date someone I don't even like because I didn't know how to express my feelings for you. I know I'm not in a position to ask it but Y/n, would you give me a chance to prove my love for you?", He was speaking so fast that you didn't even had the time to register it properly.

It took you solid 5 seconds to process what he had just said.

"I-Its alright if you don't want me as your boyfriend I understand-", Gojo mistook your silence for rejection.

" No- Satoru - wait- I love you too idiot ", Satoru gave you the biggest smile.

" Y/n can i kiss you?", his blue eyes reflected anticipation.

"Yes", it sounded like a whisper but that was all he needed to hear.

His lips meets yours, his hand holding your chin and your hand his in hair. It was a soft, delicate kiss but you swear the world disappeared for a moment.

" Eww get a room you two", Shoko gave you a disgusted look.

"Shoko how long have you been standing there!", You shouted at her , ears turning red.

" Guess we will never know "

Satoru then walked you to your room and gave a a final kiss before leaving. As he was about to leave you called him

"Satoru!", he turned his head.

" I was enchanted to meet you", you watched his face turning a bright shade of red. You were never going to let him live this moment down.

A/n: Here's the part 2:) Hope you liked it and Take care <3.

Taglist: @pandoraium @kanzamii @yihona-san06

[fallershipping]

been thinking about how Looker and Anabel might feel about Interpol as a whole, considering their own experiences, Looker especially. the fact that they stopped using fallers as bait after one died indicates they're probably not outright malicious, just... coldly practical until something goes wrong, maybe. regulations written in blood and all that. I wonder if they think they're doing more good in Interpol than if they were outside of it.

YES YES! It is quite possibly the most complicated topic Pokemon has dared to touch and haven't addressed since!

We know Nanu's opinion on the matter. He made a sudden leave (possibly against the will of an island deity) without telling Anabel what had happen to him, what will happen to her, and that she should probably reconsider being in the agency... But it's clear he is very rightfully bitter towards Interpol's use of bait.

Anabel in the Adventures/Pokespe manga does know that she's a Faller, yet she remains in Interpol and pushes herself to her duties. In Masters, the context clues there along with the games is that she does not care if her life is in danger as long as she can keep people, Pokemon, and even Looker safe from harm...

And Looker... Fuck, he's probably the most enigmatic. He's seen Guzzlord kill the untrained Faller, yet he remains on the goal of safe capture of UBs instead of killing them. He plays up the International Police persona that he is, but when it drops, he knows Interpol has its own sins. We don't even know of his life OUTSIDE of Interpol. Does he even know of his life outside of Interpol, himself?

I think Looker and Anabel do have this hope that they can continue to do good under the name of the International Police... They are both naive and fully understanding to the issues that come with the agency, perhaps. When you lose your memories, your previous life, and you make it your mission and purpose to protect the world, even to the expense of your own safety...

You explained in a way that I couldn't have said it better myself: coldly practical. "You know what you signed up for" kind of deal. Perhaps they think this is the best way, but are they correct? We don't know for sure, so sometimes I hope to see something else in the future.

But what I do know is that in my verse, Looker and Anabel leave Interpol for good, and barely tell the details about it to their own kids. Never romanticizing their old jobs, for certain.

[meridien-moonquills]

Year 5. The Mother Dragon and its Egg Rescue

Scene: The Dragon's Rescue: Twilight in the Forbidden Forest

The mission began with Poppy Sweeting bursting into the Room of Requirement—now that she already has access to Vianka’s Room of Requirement—her determined face contrasting with her pale complexion. Inside, Vianka and Ominis were discussing their next adventure. However, Sebastian, usually full of reckless enthusiasm, was absent due to a case of chicken pox.

Poppy urgently :Vianka, Ominis! Harlow’s gang has captured a dragon and its eggs. They've chained the poor creature near the old watchtower in the forbidden forest. We need to act fast."

Vianka frowning, standing up: Harlow again? He's getting worse. Dragons? That's an all-time low for him. I'm in. Ominis?"

Ominis hesitant: I find this deeply unsettling. Dragons are inherently unpredictable creatures, and attempting to rescue one? That borders on a death wish."

Poppy (pleading): The mother dragon is in pain, and they're going to sell the eggs on the black market. We can't let that happen!"

Vianka (placing a hand on Ominis's shoulder): Come on, Ominis. We've faced Inferi, goblins, and dark wizards before. What's a dragon compared to that?"

Ominis sighing:"Very well. But do not expect me to engage a dragon directly. If we are to proceed, we must have a meticulously thought-out plan."

Vianka grinning: Don't worry, Ominis. We always have a plan. Sort of."

***

As they walked, the three of them made small talk, trying to get to know each other better.

Ominis curious: "Sweeting… the name rings a bell. Have I come across it before?"

Poppy hesitant :"It's a common surname. Maybe you've come across someone else with it."

Ominis tilted his head, his sharp mind working to piece together fragments of memory.

Ominis suddenly, with realization: "Wait a moment. My father once acquired something truly dreadful—a dried and mounted Graphorn head. He mentioned it was procured from the Sweetings. Tell me, is your family entangled in poaching?"

The atmosphere shifted as all eyes turned to Poppy. Her usually cheerful demeanor darkened, and she tightly clasped her hands together, taking a deep breath before responding.

Poppy softly:"Yes. My family were poachers."

There was a slight tremble in Poppy's voice as she continued.

Poppy:"We moved around constantly, always looking for the next creature to capture or kill for profit. I grew up watching them torture beasts like Graphorns, Mooncalves, and Nifflers. At first, I didn't understand why they did it. But as I got older, I couldn't stand it anymore. The screams, the fear in the creatures' eyes... it was too much."

Ominis leaned forward, his expression a mix of shock and sympathy.

Ominis:"And you simply left?"

Poppy nodded, her gaze fixed on the fire.

Poppy:"I ran away when I was thirteen and went to live with my grandmother—my mother's mother. She despised what my father's side of the family stood for and taught me to care for beasts and see their worth beyond monetary value. Every time I save a creature now, it feels like I'm undoing some of my family's wrongdoings. It's my way of making amends."

Vianka, who was usually quick to comment, remained silent. Her thoughts were a jumble of admiration for Poppy and a hint of envy (which she couldn't quite understand) as she listened to her friend's heartfelt confession.

Ominis leaned back, his voice unusually gentle.

Ominis:"I understand far more than you might imagine, Poppy. While my family are not poachers, they are burdened with their own abhorrent beliefs—beliefs I cannot and will not condone. The Gaunts cling to the notion of purging the magical world, preserving only purebloods, as though the value of a wizard lies solely in their lineage. I’ve endeavored to distance myself from them, yet I remain reliant on them in ways that I utterly detest."

Poppy looked up, meeting Ominis's eyes.

Poppy: "But you don't agree with them. That's what matters. You've made your own choices and stayed true to yourself, even if you're still tied to them. That takes strength."

Ominis smiled faintly.

Ominis:"Thank you. But you’ve accomplished something I have yet to achieve—you walked away completely and carved your own path. That is nothing short of admirable."

Vianka sat silently, her gaze fixed on the trees ahead. She couldn't help but admire Poppy's bravery and Ominis's honesty, but a small part of her felt uneasy about Poppy growing bond with Ominis.

***

The Trio's Secret Mission

Silently, the trio navigated through the thick underbrush of the Forbidden Forest. The only sounds were the distant roars and the crunching of leaves under their feet. As they approached an old watchtower, its crumbling structure casting jagged shadows, Poppy pointed out a clearing where a massive Hebridean Black dragon was chained and thrashing, her cries echoing through the trees. A group of Harlow's men stood nearby, laughing cruelly as they guarded a reinforced cage filled with glowing dragon eggs.

Ominis whispering:"We cannot approach without drawing attention. A diversion is imperative."

Vianka smirking:"Leave that to me. I'll create enough chaos to distract them. Poppy, you free the mother dragon. Ominis, grab those eggs."

Ominis deadpan: "And what precisely do you plan to do when your penchant for chaos inevitably results in you being hexed?"

Vianka grinning:"That's what Protego is for."

Before any further objections could be raised, Vianka confidently stepped forward, her wand already in motion.

As Vianka launched a powerful Depulso spell towards the watchtower, crates flew in all directions, causing chaos among the guards.

"Intruders!" one of them yelled as they scrambled to retaliate against the attackers.

Vianka moved swiftly and strategically between covers, precisely aiming spells at her targets. She sent a weak Confringo towards a drum with “WARNING EXPLOSIVE” to a group of startled guards near a cauldron, causing it to explode and send two men sprawling to the ground.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to keep your dragon," Vianka teased with a smirk on her face.

Meanwhile, Ominis used his wand's sensory abilities to find the cage holding the precious dragon eggs. With a quiet Alohomora, he unlocked the gate and gently cradled the warm eggs in his arms.

Poppy approached the chained dragon with reassurance in her voice. "It's okay, girl. We're here to help," she whispered soothingly. With a spell, she loosened the chains enough for the dragon to break free. The mother dragon let out a deafening roar and spread her wings wide as she attacked the remaining guards.

Ominis grimaced at the sudden turn of events. "Tell me you planned for this part, Vianka!" he shouted over the chaos.

"Not exactly, but it's working, isn't it?" Vianka replied with a grin, dodging another spell aimed at her head.

As the last of Harlow's men ran away, the dragon redirected her attention to the three remaining individuals. Her fiery stare settled on the eggs cradled in Ominis's arms.

Poppy:"Quick, She won't attack if we give her the eggs. Ominis, bring them here!"

Ominis hesitated but followed Poppy's suggestion, carefully placing the eggs in front of the dragon. The mother dragon sniffed at them, her growls fading into low rumblings of relief.

Vianka exhaling:"See? No problem."

But as she stepped back, a loose rock shifted under her foot, causing her to stumble and fall from a higher ledge. A spell from a retreating guard narrowly missed her, sending her tumbling to the ground below. If it weren't for Ominis casting "arresto momentum," Vianka would have surely been flattened.

Ominis rushing to her side: "Vianka! That was utterly reckless! Are you unharmed?"

Vianka gritting her teeth and regaining her balance: I'm fine. It's nothing. Thanks to you."

Ominis angrily: It is most certainly not nothing! You’re impulsive and far too bold—like a textbook Gryffindor! You must exercise greater caution next time."

Vianka (weakly smirking):That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Ominis."

***

Poppy returned to Hufflepuff while Vianka and Ominis headed back to Slytherin House. Before they parted ways on different stairs, Ominis stopped to bandage Vianka's arm with surprising care, despite his frustration still evident.

Ominis still angry: "You have absolutely no sense of danger, Vianka! You must learn to think before you act, or mark my words, there will come a day when no one can save you. Do you not realize how infuriatingly reckless you are? I am utterly exasperated with you!"

He glared at her with intense frustration radiating from his aura.

Vianka teasing him: "But you always save me."

Ominis still angry: "Listen to me! This is not a matter for debate—it is deadly serious, and you will obey me. Say yes this instant—NOW!"

Vianka trembled, remembering the incident where Ominis was angry after he had asked her if she came out of the undercroft again. She weakly nodded and said "yes.".

"Good girl," Ominis said as he took off his protective locket and placed it around Vianka's neck, making sure it was secure with spells so that it would never come off. When Vianka started to protest, he cut her off.

"You will accept this, and you will follow my orders without question! Consider it repayment for the mounting debts you owe me. Never—under any circumstances—remove that locket from your neck! This is an order, not a choice! Now, before I lose my temper again, leave me and get some rest."

Vianka didn't have to worry about Ominis showing sympathy towards Poppy that night. Her gaze towards him was gentle, hoping for a special connection between the two of them.

The pics were taken from pinterest

Dragon by @visualdreamsart

Ominis by @dvinaamesca

[siriannatan]

"I want to drown you with your ship," - Scott and Martyn pirate au

I just wanted to write something, anything. I went looking for prompts and this happened. I did originally intend for it to be Scott and fWhip but then I went… What if Martyn? and here we are :}

The prompt

Hope you enjoy :}

Martyn glared at the naval officer with as much fury as he could surrounded by marines. Kneeling. Defeated. His whole crew was gone. In the middle of his own ship's deck. Must he have been captured by probably the prettiest officer they have? Soft wavy cyan hair messed by the bloody battle they had. His coat was tattered, cut and bloodied in places. But he still looked as handsome as he was smug.

"I want to drown you with your ship," the officer said. "A good captain always should, and you..." The captain pressed his blade harder against Martyn's throat. "Whatever other scum you are, I believe you're a good captain."

"Why not let me drown then?" Martyn tossed back. To show he was not fully defeated. The officer laughed and ordered his men to prepare to leave the pirate ship. "Bid wide sea, anything could happen. So many accidents."

"Because I, unlike you," the officer responded with disdain as he pulled Martyn to his feet, "know the meaning of loyalty. And our majesty is rather wanting to see you for a family reunion."

Well. Just when Martyn thought the day couldn't get worse. He really didn't need to see Ren. Like ever. The last time they saw each other they tried killing each other. Ren wanted no family reunion. Just to see Martyn hanged with his own two eyes. He had to somehow escape Admiral Major as the crew called him as he ordered to have Martyn's ship sunken.

If he was correct he knew the admiral. From his childhood back in the castle. Scott Major. Son of his father's closest advisor. And probably still the current grand admiral. Unless Scott's older brother was holding the title now. Or Ren gave it to someone else. If that was the case maybe there was a way to get out of this without being hanged.

"So who's the grand admiral now? Still your father?" he asked as Scott led him to his cell for the long journey. There was no way he was allowed to just roam around the ship. "Your older brother?"

"None of your business," Scott hissed pulling him harder. It was obviously a sore subject.

"You know Ren's just gonna hang me as soon as I'm in the capital? He's really wasting your talents on me," Martyn carried on pushing.

"Just shut up," Scott practically growled as he untied Martyn's hands. And quickly left. Locking the door.

Martyn glared at the door as he rubbed his wrists. He was in far too nice of a room for just a prisoner. What member of the crew got demoted to room him like this? No way Scott did. He was the captain after all. Or maybe this ship was selected for this mission for its spare comfy rooms. Even if he didn't manage to convince Scott to let him go at least his last journey was to be a comfy one...

Maybe he could try flirting? Scott did grow up to be quite pretty. For now he had to wait until the next time Scott saw fit to talk to him. When would that be? Martyn had no idea. But at least he had a plan. Be an annoyance and make Scott want to get rid of him.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home (1/1)

Title: Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: Set during CA: TFA

Rating: Teen and Up (mild references to sexual activity)

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Word Count: 2914

Distribution: AO3  Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: for @behindthelabels for Steggymas! Steve can’t get her eyes right… or the story of how he managed to have a picture of Peggy in his compass. 

AN: So, I started writing a COMPLETELY different story for @behindthelabels, only to find out that I was basing it on something she hadn’t seen. So, I scrubbed it for the time being (though it’s likely to be posted soon, and dedicated to her as a “gift I know you won’t like but sorry, there’s no receipt so you can’t take it back”) and in the meantime, I cooked up this based on an ask she answered. I hope she enjoys it! Thanks @steggyfanevents for another great year!

Title taken from Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran

~*~

He couldn’t get the eyes right. 

It didn’t matter how many times he tried to draw her, he couldn’t get the eyes right. 

Not that he could actually see what he was doing in the dark tent in the middle of the night as sleep evaded him. Drawing her was at least something he could do, an activity to fill the time and his idle hands as he waited for his next assignment. 

The curve of her cheek he managed after a few tries. Her nose took two or three attempts to get the line down. After about two months of sketching at every opportunity he had a passable likeness that he felt confident in. Her lips…

Her lips he got right on the first try. He couldn't imagine not knowing what they looked like, their bright red velvet likeness burned into his memory forever. 

But her eyes, Peggy’s eyes, evaded him. 

He couldn’t quite nail down the sparkle in them, never managed to figure out how to make them stoic yet mischievous at the same time. He could, and frequently did, get lost in those eyes whenever she was around. He would try to memorize the curve of her eyelid and the length of her lashes, made guesses about how many millimeters wide her pupils were and tried to get the shade as close as he could with his nubbin of a pencil, but still. 

Still. 

He couldn’t get the eyes right. 

It didn’t make sense to him that he had a notebook full of images of her and not a single one seemed real, not a single one seemed to capture who she was and the power that radiated from her. It didn’t make sense when he could see her in his dreams every night, as crisp and real as if she were standing before him, a smile on her bright lips and a twinkle in her eyes, but her eyes still evaded him in sketches.

His drawings were all he had out on the lines. It was the one thing he kept with him: his little notebook and the last inch of a pencil went in his pack wherever he went. He made himself notes about missions and plans he should write, but the majority of the pages were filled with drawings. Sometimes it was the monsters of battles on them, being purged from his psyche the only way he could: through the pencil. 

But usually, mostly, it was Peggy. 

He didn’t have any right to miss her, not really. They were both too important, too integral to the war to have time alone or time away from battle. She was busy saving the world through undercover missions and breaking codes in back rooms while he led the charge out in the open. 

There would be time for them when this was all over. 

Or so they told themselves. 

Stolen moments were all they had, little minutes and hours here and there when they happened to both be in the same place at the same time. They didn’t make promises about tomorrow: there were no promises to make in war. They only mused about when they’d next cross paths or how long their next assignment was scheduled to be. 

And those muses were short, clipped words between stolen caresses in closets or as they were making out between mission briefings in abandoned offices. 

Steve wanted to be valiant: he wanted to take her on long, romantic walks and ask her family for permission to have her hand. But war was hell. They were all exhausted and just a little bit traumatized, all broken and a little bit hopeless. Falling into her, feeling her soft, porcelain skin and kissing her warm, red lips, was like a balm. It didn’t last long, but it gave him fire to keep going, gave him a reason to haul his ass back to camp when he just wanted to lay down in the mud, gave him a reason to wake up another day and fight when he constantly seemed outnumbered and outmanned. 

Some nights, all he could do was focus on getting back to her so he could let his fingers trail over the curve of her hip, so he could feel the weight of her in his arms and her breath puffing against his cheek one more time, as he made his way through mud and snow, as he sat in freezing cold tents and hid in bushes behind enemy lines. 

He didn’t have much to hold on to. No family at home, no one waiting for him. 

They didn’t send letters, there was no way for them to write anything meaningful that wouldn’t get read or censored before it got to the other. 

He just had her, just Peggy, and their wartime romance that felt so fragile it could break like glass any day. 

There were so many things that threatened it. 

They were clearly going against regulations. Most who could find someone did, it wasn’t a secret. Even though he hardly thought Colonel Phillips was one to report them, if someone made an official complaint, he’d have to follow through. 

Either one of them could get killed any day. It was a harsh truth, but one they both knew deep down. Every goodbye was hard because they knew it very well could be their last. Men didn’t come back every day, spies were caught behind enemy lines regularly. Either one of them could be on the next list of casualties, so they kissed and touched and loved as long and as hard as they could with the little time they had. 

Steve tried not to think about Peggy finding someone else, but he had a hard time believing sometimes that she truly loved him. Not for anything she did, really, but for the fact that he still saw himself as a different person, still saw himself as someone that was looked over and dismissed. He constantly worked to prove himself, in the field and to her. 

He wanted to deserve her. 

How could he do that if he couldn’t get her damn eyes right?

~*~

“You’re going to stare a hole right through me, you know.” 

“Huh?” Steve’s eyes widened, realizing he’d been caught. 

Peggy leaned up, kissing him before wiping at the red rim of her lipstick around his lips with her thumb. She pulled the sheet tighter around her, her sweat-slicked skin chilling now that they’d slaked their needs for the time being. “Have I something on my face?”

He shook his head, pushing up to sitting and running a hand across his chin, but didn’t answer. 

Peggy slipped from the bed and wrapped her robe around her nude form, retreating to the small dressing table in the hotel room. It was serendipity: they were in the same city at the same time, her mission not starting for a few days and his just ending. The hotel room was a compromise, the quickest way to hopefully not get caught, to spend a quiet moment in the middle of the maelstrom. She started pulling the pins from her mussed hair, looking over her shoulder at him. “Well?”

He was embarrassed, caught, and didn’t know how to broach it without sounding like a fool. He kept his eyes down, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t get the eyes right.”

She stilled, hands still pulling a pin from her hair, as only her eyebrow moved, lifting high. “The eyes?”

“Your eyes,” he sighed. He pulled his shorts on and moved to the side of the room, rummaging through his pack and pulling out his small notebook. There was a tear in the corner and half the pages were dogeared, so it bounced to an open page when he put it on the table in front of her, leaning back against the wall. He shrugged again before crossing his arms. “Can’t seem to get them right.”

Peggy was stunned, abandoning the half-done job of her pins as she started flipping carefully through the pages. In between his neat notes about troop movements and mission details were sketches. Some were half done, some were shaded and lined and damn near perfect. 

Almost all of them were of her. 

Her jaw dropped as she flipped through the pages. “Steve…” His name passed breathlessly through her lips, she was so taken with picture after picture of herself. 

“I know.” He shook his head, hiding his face from his in his palm. His words were muffled in his hand.  “It’s stupid, I know.”

She set the book down, looking up at him. “Stupid?”

He just waved his hand at the book. “I guess that, other fellas, well, they get to carry pictures, you know? They get to have letters and day passes and-“

“And we have this.” Peggy easily finished the sentence for him, standing in front of him and taking the notebook with her. She opened the page to her favorite likeness, a profile shaded best he could in pencil, her hair detailed in a sharp victory roll. “But why would you think this is stupid?” 

He didn't have the words to express his embarrassment, his insecurity, so he just shrugged again, pink running hot over his chest and up into his cheeks. 

“This,” she held up the picture, “is not stupid. Far from it, in fact.” Peggy shook her head and put the notebook down, letting her hands rest on his folded forearms. “Do you know what I do?”

He laughed nervously. “No.”

“When I’m on a mission or undercover, I collect the papers.” She leaned back, letting her hands move over his forearms. “I can’t draw, so I collect the papers. The ones that have your picture in them. Easy enough to explain away keeping an old paper or two in your flat to use about the place.” She smiled, just a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips as she holds his gaze. “I can’t have your picture in my purse or a ring on my finger or-“

“You want that?” He interrupted, once again surprised. Her confused hum spurred him to elaborate. He lifted her hand in his, running his thumb over her fingers. “A ring?”

Her half smile bloomed into something wider, something sparkling that he’d only captured on paper rarely. “Eventually.” She took his hand and threaded her fingers in his, reaching for his other, swinging them with a little mischief in her eyes. “Though if you thought we could get away with an elopement without the War Department finding out, I’ll start getting my shoes on.”

His lips crashed into her almost before she could finish getting the last words out. “Silly brute,” Peggy playfully admonished, pushing away from his embrace to sit back at the table and resume pulling her pins out. “As if I wouldn’t marry you after going through all this time and again just for five minutes of peace.”

His laugh was genuine as he stepped behind her, helping her probing fingers pull out the pins that had long since moved and snagged, pushed out of place by his passionate embraces and the friction against the sheets. “I guess I just always hoped. We never really talk about it.”

She took his hand in hers, kissed the back of it over her shoulder, her smile dropping just a little in the mirror across from them. “No, you’re right, but with all the things that could go wrong…”

He ran his hand over her cheek as her words faded, the weight of the world outside their little hotel room creeping in just enough. “With all the things that can go wrong, it’s nice to know that I have someone who wants to see me on the other end of it.”

Peggy turned, holding his hand tight in both of hers, her eyes finding his, warm and sincere. “Always, Steve. I will always be waiting for you to come back to me.”

He leaned down, kissing her gently. “Same, Peg. Every mission you go on, I’ll be waiting.” 

“Good,” she took a deep breath, pushing away the emotions she was far too anxious to not feel while she was in this room. If she got to thinking about leaving in a few hours, it would ruin the time they had left. “Now, let’s get these pins out, shall we?” She turned back, looking up at him in the reflection in the mirror. “I have not had my fill of you, but if we leave them in my hair will be matted beyond recognition and not only will I be dress coded, there will be no question as to where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.”

Steve kissed the top of her head, pulling another pin out and setting it on the table. “Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

Luck was on Peggy’s side when Steve and the Commandos made their way into the small base the next day. She would be heading out soon, as would he, but even fifteen minutes would be enough time for what she had planned. 

She passed him in the hallway, stepping in time with him only long enough to say hello to everyone and slip her hand into his pocket without him noticing. 

Ten minutes later, she made a show of bumping into him in the hall, flustered and dropping her pile of papers.

The commandos helped her pick them up, and she smiled like the cat that got the cream as she walked away. 

~*~

“Something wrong with Peg?” Dugan asked as they settled themselves in the back of the transport. 

“Wrong?” Steve asked, settling his shield next to him so he could lean on the wall of the truck. “She looked okay to me.”

Dugan raised an eyebrow under the rim of his bowler. “Carter ran into you like a freight train on a mission. Have you ever known that woman to ever drop anything like a ditzy secretary before?”

Steve looked at his friend, realization slowly dawning. It was unlike Peggy to not know where she was in space and to be clumsy. He’d never seen her trip or barrel into anything unless it was on purpose. And boy, had he seen her do it on purpose to unsuspecting targets when she wanted to get her hands on something they had. “But why…”

Dugan shrugged, pulling his hat over his eyes. “Dunno, friend. Maybe check your pockets.”

Steve started patting himself down as the truck roared to life, bouncing him as it headed out to their destination. Everything was where it should be, everything was accounted for in the right pockets. 

But it didn’t make sense. 

Steve started pulling each thing out, looking over each little piece of equipment. Everything was as he’d put it in there, except his notebook. 

On the very last page was a new entry in Peggy’s neat handwriting. 

My darling, we have the rest of our lives for you to get the eyes right. 

She didn’t sign it. She couldn’t. Not if they wanted to at least continue to pretend to follow the rules. But she did draw a little star symbol next to it. He looked over her words for far longer than he needed to commit them to memory, eyes following the sharp points of the star over and over. On nights to come he would look over them again and again, trying to remember her voice in his mind as he read them. 

He slipped the notebook back in his pocket, closing his eyes and trying to get some sleep before boots had to be on the ground. 

Something bothered him, though. It wouldn’t let him rest.

The star. 

She’d never drawn a star before. They’d never talked about stars or night skies in any significant way. They definitely hadn’t spent time talking about stars last night as he moved in her, dragging his lips over her soft skin and pulling her thigh up over his hip, existing as one for as long as they could muster in the middle of the war. 

No, the little eight pointed, stylized star wasn’t quite right. It had to mean something else. 

Four long points, four short points…

He sat up and shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling his compass out. 

He knew before he even opened it. It smelled just faintly of her perfume. He couldn’t hide his smile as he flicked it open to find her picture staring back at him. It was simple, surely an ID photo she managed to drag up from somewhere. He’d want to know why she had a copy at hand, especially one small enough to fit in his compass. She was full of surprises, though the more he thought about it he was sure it had more to do with the photostats or halftone prints she could get done from the records department on base. 

For now, though, he decided it would be better to just focus on what he had in his hands and not the how. He had her image with him now, everywhere he went she was just a flick away in his pocket. 

He could look at her face on those lonely, cold nights, and use it to help guide him when he felt like pulling out his pencil and trying his hand at her portrait again. 

He’d get her eyes right. 

And if he didn’t?

If he didn’t, she was always with him now. 

[stony4eva]

In the dimly lit confines of Stark Tower, Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, sat at his desk, his mind wandering as he pretended to review mission reports. But his thoughts were far from the tasks at hand; instead, they were consumed by one man: Tony Stark, the brilliant and enigmatic Iron Man.

Ever since they had joined forces as Avengers, Steve had found himself drawn to Tony in ways he couldn't quite comprehend. It wasn't just Tony's genius or his bravado that captivated Steve; it was something deeper, something he struggled to put into words. He admired Tony's wit, his charm, and his unwavering determination to protect the world, even if it meant putting himself in harm's way.

But there was something else too, something Steve dared not acknowledge even to himself: he was in love with Tony Stark.

It was a love that burned quietly within him, a secret he kept hidden from everyone, especially Tony. He couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing their friendship or their partnership as Avengers. So, he buried his feelings deep inside, contenting himself with stolen glances and fleeting moments of closeness.

Meanwhile, Tony seemed oblivious to Steve's internal turmoil. In fact, he often took pleasure in teasing Steve, flirting shamelessly with him in front of the other Avengers. He would throw out innuendos and suggestive comments, always with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. And while Steve tried to maintain his composure, he couldn't help but feel a flush of embarrassment whenever Tony turned his attention towards him.

One night, as the rest of the Avengers retired to their quarters, Steve found himself unable to sleep. His thoughts, as always, drifted to Tony. Unable to resist the pull any longer, he made his way down to Tony's lab, his heart pounding in his chest.

When he arrived, he found Tony hunched over his workbench, tinkering with one of his suits. The soft glow of the arc reactor illuminated his features, casting shadows across his angular face. Steve couldn't tear his gaze away, his breath catching in his throat.

"Hey, Cap," Tony said, looking up from his work with a smile. "Couldn't sleep?"

Steve shook his head, trying to disguise the nervous flutter in his stomach. "Thought I'd bring you some coffee," he said, holding out the steaming mug.

Tony's smile widened as he took the coffee, his fingers brushing against Steve's in the process. "Thanks, buddy," he said, taking a sip. "Just what I needed."

Steve watched as Tony settled back on the couch, patting the space beside him. "Join me?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Unable to resist, Steve sank down onto the couch beside Tony, the heat of his body sending shivers down Steve's spine. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of machinery in the background.

And then, without warning, Tony turned towards Steve, his eyes dark with desire. Before Steve could react, Tony's lips were on his, capturing him in a searing kiss that left him breathless.

For a moment, Steve forgot everything—their roles as Avengers, their complicated past, even his own fears and insecurities. All that mattered was the feel of Tony's lips against his, the taste of him, the heat of his body pressed against Steve's own.

As their lips parted, Tony's hands traced the contours of Steve's body, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. With a soft, almost reverent touch, he began to unbutton Steve's shirt, his fingers lingering over each exposed inch of skin.

Steve's breath hitched as Tony's lips trailed down his neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. He let out a low moan as Tony's hands moved lower, skimming over his chest and abdomen with a tantalizing touch.

In response, Steve's own hands found their way to Tony's shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. With trembling hands, he began to unbutton Tony's shirt, his heart racing with anticipation.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as they shed their clothing piece by piece, each garment a testament to their desire for one another. And as the last of their clothes fell to the floor, they were left standing before each other, completely exposed, completely vulnerable.

But there was no room for doubt or hesitation in that moment, only the overwhelming need to be closer, to be one.

And so, they came together once more, their bodies intertwining in a passionate embrace that transcended time and space. In that moment, there was only Tony and Steve, two souls bound together by love and desire, their hearts beating as one.

-written by AI