#Blaze Train off the rails

[latanyalove]

First Kiss

Summary: Zoro has never had a kiss so you want to be first (fluff)

Song: Swim by Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

The salt spray kissed your face as you leaned against the railing of the Thousand Sunny, the grand ship cutting through the twilight-painted sea. Below, the crew’s raucous laughter mingled with the clatter of dishes from the galley, a symphony of life that always warmed your heart.

But tonight, your gaze was fixed on a different kind of spectacle. Zoro, his back to the mast, was honing his swords with a quiet intensity that was both captivating and unnerving.

The rhythmic shing, shing, shing was a low thrum against the backdrop of the festive preparations.

You'd been a part of the Straw Hats for a while now, long enough to witness Zoro's unwavering dedication, his almost stoic demeanor, and, occasionally, the flicker of surprising tenderness.

And for you, those flickers had become a blazing fire of affection. You were hopelessly, head-over-heels, in love with the moss-headed swordsman.

New Year’s Eve was upon the ship. Luffy had declared it an unofficial holiday, and even Nami had loosened her purse strings slightly to allow for a grand feast. Your heart pounded a little harder against your ribs as you thought about it. New Year’s.

Midnight…and then there was that silly tradition. The first kiss of the new year. You knew almost everyone on board had someone they were excited to share that with. You knew exactly who you wanted yours to be with.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the railing, deciding to act instead of simply watching. You approached Zoro, your steps strangely hesitant for someone who’d faced down bounty hunters and sea monsters.

"Zoro?" you started, trying for a casual tone.

He paused, the whetstone still against the blade. Those dark eyes, usually so focused or narrowed in suspicion, met yours, and a shiver went down your spine. "What is it, (Your Name)?"

"You're still training?" you asked, gesturing towards his swords. "Even with the party starting?"

He shrugged, a small movement that spoke volumes about his priorities. "Need to keep sharp. Never know what the new year will bring."

"True," you agreed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "But you should come and eat something soon. Sanji went all out for tonight, you know."

Zoro grunted, returning to his sharpening. "He always does."

You perched on the edge of a nearby coil of rope. "You're…not much of a party person, I guess?" you ventured, trying to steer the conversation in a slightly more personal direction.

"Parties are a waste of time," he replied bluntly. The whetstone scraped against the metal, the sound grating slightly on your nerves.

You shifted uncomfortably, deciding to take a risk. "Well, some people enjoy them. It's a good excuse to...be with people, I guess."

He finally glanced up at you again, seeming to consider your words. "Like…Luffy?"

“Yeah, like Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper,” you agreed, “but also…everyone. I suppose,” you added with a small, quiet voice.

“Right” he said, turning back to his swords, “Well I’m not much of a sentimental person.”

Your heart sank a little at that. But you refused to give up. "I was just wondering something," you said, trying a different approach.

He paused, the whetstone still, his attention on you. "What?"

You took a deep breath. You weren’t the most confident person, and the idea of asking this was terrifying. But you were more terrified of never knowing.

"Have you...ever kissed anyone, Zoro?" The question was out before you could stop it, hanging in the quiet air. You stared at your hands, willing your face to not turn too red.

He was silent for a long moment, the only sounds the soft lapping of waves against the ship and the distant laughter of the crew.

You dared to peek up at him. His brow was furrowed, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your shoulder. "No," he said, his voice low and almost gruff. "Why?"

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Your stomach did a nervous flip. He hadn’t had a first kiss yet. This was your chance. You could just…you could be his first.

You cleared your throat. "Just curious. It's…a common thing. Especially around New Year. You know, the tradition."

He finally turned his focus back to your eyes, and your breath hitched. Those dark orbs, usually so guarded, seemed to be searching yours. "Tradition?" he repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

"Yeah, you know, the first kiss at midnight," you explained, your cheeks warming despite your best efforts. "It’s supposed to be good luck, I guess?" you added weakly, trying to make it sound casual.

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy. You were sure you were blushing, praying that in the fading light he couldn’t see just how flustered you were.

He just stared at you, those eyes holding an intensity you’d rarely seen outside of battle.

"So," you continued, the word catching in your throat, "have you ever thought about…doing that?"

He didn’t answer immediately. He watched you for what felt like an eternity, his gaze probing. "No," he finally admitted, his voice still low, "I haven't. Seemed like a waste of time."

Your heart leaped in your chest. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible hint of curiosity in his eyes. You took another deep, steadying breath. This was it.

"Maybe," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "maybe it's not such a waste of time with the right person?" You looked up at his face, willing him to understand what you couldn't just say out loud.

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. As if contemplating your words. The last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the deck into a deeper twilight.

The party on the lower deck grew louder, the lively music getting closer, a backdrop against the quiet tension stretching between the two of you.

"The new year is almost here," you said, your voice a little breathy, "I was hoping…” you trailed off, unable to say your exact desires.

He stared at you, his eyes dark and unreadable. He didn’t seem angry or disgusted, just… lost in thought. It was a vulnerable expression you’d never seen on his face.

The first chime of midnight began to toll, the ship’s bell echoing across the water, a deep, resonant sound that made your heart pound. You held your breath, waiting.

He stepped closer, closing the distance until you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Your stomach flipped, the butterflies in it turning into a full-scale swarm. You met his eyes, your own filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

"If…if it has to be someone," he said, his voice rough, "then…" he trailed off, looking down at you, “then, I guess it can be you.”

Your heart soared. It was such a small, begrudging, roundabout way of saying yes, but it was enough. It was more than enough.

You raised a shaking hand and gently touched his cheek, feeling the rough stubble and the warmth beneath. You leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut as the sound of the final chime echoed across the open sea.

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, a soft brush against your own. It was not the kiss you expected. It was slow, a little clumsy, and utterly, completely beautiful. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of his lips against yours, the roughness of his hand as he gently cupped your cheek, and the sweet scent of his worn leather and sea salt.

The kiss deepened, no longer tentative but full of a raw, untamed intensity that mirrored the ocean surrounding you.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, the world seemed brighter, the sounds of the celebration louder, more joyful. You looked at Zoro, his face still a little confused, but his eyes held a warmth you hadn’t noticed before.

A small smile played on your lips. "Happy New Year, Zoro."

A corner of his mouth twitched, a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter once more. "Yeah," he murmured, his gaze fixed on yours, "Happy New Year, (Your Name)."

The party carried on around you, the crew erupting in cheers and laughter, but for you, the world seemed to have narrowed down to just two people, standing on the deck of a ship under a blanket of stars.

Your first kiss of the new year, and more importantly, Zoro’s first kiss was with you.

And you had a feeling, a wonderful feeling, that this New Year would be very special indeed. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be the last kiss you shared. . . .

[liliewrites]

Here's another brainrot for you. Your an adventurer (famous or not is up to you) stationed in Fontaine & you just got an mission to you know...stop some Fatui agents from disrupting the peace or something. So since you became an adventurer in the 1st place for the thrill, the mission was accepted by you. You go blazing into the fatui camp and like take them out (lets assume like theres at least 15 people there). Arle was just watching everything from a cover (which you obviously don't notice) & knocks you out after the whole fight. So arle was really impressed by you cus like you took out the entire camp & she wants that strength for herself. You were really stubborn about not betraying the guild & joining the fatui so arle decided to rail you into submission cus like torturing you is not gonna help in the long run.

NSFW transfem! Arle please.

Also, can I be 💫anon? So that you know its me next time XD. I am too shy to NOT ask as anonymous.

okkk HIIIII 💫 ANON!!:3 here's ur rqst hope u eat it up good, it has a small little sprinkle of jealous arlecchino to spice it up a little..

-warning/s : NSFW, transfem! arlecchino x fem! reader, lightly dark content, dubious consent, blowjob.

(men and minors dni utc!)

"take care out there, ranger!"

you waved your guildmates goodbye, heading off to the north to disband a nearby fatui camp as the agents there have been causing chaos within the area recently. you were scouting the area, when you saw the said camp.

it was fairly small, but with around a dozen to fifteen agents present.

you let out a sigh, hoping they would cooperate lest this would end up a mess like last time you've done similar missions to these.

you slowly approached the camp, a nervous and awkward smile on your face. "hello there, fellows!" you exclaimed, hands near your weapon, but not on it, in hopes that no aggression would occur.

"oh? what's a pretty little lady like you doing out here in the wild?" one of them snickered, and you instantly knew this wouldn't end up peacefully like you hoped. still, you tried. "uhm, well, this pretty little lady is respectfully asking you to please go away." you told them, oh, but they persisted. one of them even grabbing your wrist with a perverted grin. "well, i'm afraid we'll have to decline. especially when we've caught prey as good as you."

needless to say, you immediately grabbed your weapon and started kicking their ass. they were all caught off guard, but had immediately started coming after you one after another. "damn it, what in the hells are you all doing!? that's just one girl!" one of them exclaimed, frustrated at the fact that you were able to knock half of the camp out alone.

little did you know, a certain harbinger was supervising your little fight with the fatuus. she was also surprised at the fact at how easily you were taking down trained fatui, and she wanted you.

after taking down the last of those annoying perverts, you dusted off your hands and double checked yourself for injuries and your items.

the harbinger however, had come out of your hiding spot, silent steps approached your oblivious ass.

and the next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

"what the.. what the hell?"

you opened your eyes, barely aware of what had just happened before you passed out, but upon realizing that your hands were tied and you were stuck to a chair. you realized you were knocked out.

"oh, finally awake?"

a voice that belonged to a woman echoed behind you, along with loud clacking of heels, and lo and behold.

before your eyes stood the 4th of the fatui harbingers, arlecchino the knave.

you'd be a liar if you said your knees weren't shaking. that was the arlecchino, standing before you, right in front of you, just a few meters away! you were no match for the harbinger, and you feared for your life. scared that you might've angered her for wrecking a whole camp of fatui, shit, what if those were her soldiers? you thought.

"tsk. calm down. i did not bring you all this way to kill you. if that was my intention then i would have done that right then and there."

she told you, probably noticing how nervous you were from your silence. usually, people would've been screaming for help, but you weren't.

".. then, why am i here?"

you asked, calmly, trying not to look too scared. "i've witnessed your fighting prowess, how you took down those agents in mere minutes. those agents were trained for years under the regime of fatui military, with strict discipline and harsh conditioning." she walked towards you, a curious gaze settled upon you, besides that though, her expression was hard to read. you couldn't tell if she was angry? upset? sad?

"- and you made those solders look incompetent, stupid and weak. i commend you."

her answer wasn't one of your expected reactions from her. her expression was still deadpan and you couldn't tell if she was pleased or happy, but judging from her words alone you could at least say that.. she was satisfied with your performance? "thank you, uhm.. miss harbinger?" was all you could say, unable to really make out what her intentions were.

"perhaps you wonder why i took you here, little lady."

she walked closer to you, rough, dark blackened hands approached your face and gently caressed your skin. you noticed how cold the knave's hands were, and your curiosity was piqued as you started to wonder why her hands were like.. that.

it could've been considered an honor to be praised by a harbinger, but to be asked to join their side was completely something else. "no offense and with all due respect, miss arlecchino, but i will not leave the guild." you told her, all of the fear you felt was gone and you wanted to make it clear to her that you didn't want to join. "tsk, you are held captive and yet you still have the will to say no?" she grumbled, finally showing at least one expression on her face- annoyance.

"- it is because i want you to join us, join me, under the house of the hearth."

"EXCUSE ME WHAT?"

"i do not care where i am, but i will not leave the guild."

you stood your ground, nor longer were you afraid for your life, but for your friends and loved ones at the guild. "fine. it is your choice, but do make sure that you wrap your pretty little head around my words-- you will not leave this place safe, not until you agree with my offer. make your choice, or you'll regret making me impatient." she told you, tightening the ropes around your wrists and ankles, making your skin slowly start to burn but you stuck to your resolve. arlecchino left the room, and this was only the beginning of her trying to convince you to give in.

at first, you were starved for 2 days, with each time that you reject her offer she ends up slapping you on the face. today was the third day, you were hungry and light-headed. you swear you could feel like you were slowly slipping away from sanity as from spending so much time in solitude. your body was sore from being tied to a chair for 2 whole days without food nor water and you swear there were rope burns on your wrist and ankle.

arlecchino however, realized that starvation wouldn't make you crumble, much to her annoyance. this was not her usual preferred method of torture, thinking it was a waste of her time, she didn't like to wait and would prefer to end things swiftly. oh, but you, much to her annoyance, she didn't want to waste the talent that you had. she couldn't resolve to physical pain or she might accidentally inflict injuries that might hold you back from improving so she had to resort to slowly destroying your will, but she didn't expect you to be this stubborn. so she had to resort to the last method she could think of- fuck, she cursed under her breath. she may not admit it, but besides wanting to have you as a useful little helper, you may have caused her to have desires she never thought she'd have. it was a nuisance to her, but she couldn't get it off her mind-- she couldn't get the thought of using you like a slut out of her mind.

arlecchino walked back into the room, untying you and you were puzzled, "w-what are you going to do to me?" you asked, alarmed from her sudden behavior. you tried to struggle and squirm as she got you off the chair, but you could barely even stand on your own. "pathetic. so much for being a feisty little mouse." she mumbled, placing a collar on you and tying the leash on the wall. your ankles were freed but her hands were tied. "you've wasted plenty of my time with your reluctance to obey, little lady. don't you think it's about time that i finally teach you some manners, hm?" she placed her hand on your head, forcefully pushing you down on your knees. she unbuckled her pants. your heartbeat started to accelerate. no, no, she wouldn't do what you thought she would, right?

"open that pretty little mouth of yours."

she commanded, but you kept your mouth close as she pulled down her pants. "tsk, stubborn little mouse." she harshly squeezed your face, pulling you forward. "not going to follow? too stupid to understand instructions? fine then." she untied the leash, instead wrapping it around her hand before walking to the chair where you were tied to.

"i'll give you options, little mouse. either you learn to obey and i will reward you, or you will be forced to obey and i will continue to isolate you in this room."

you sat there, weighing your choices. should you comply? should you disobey? but you really wanted to get out of this dark, isolated room. arlecchino clicked her tongue, tugging on the leash.

"hurry up, little mouse, before i lose my patience and decide for you."

she huffed, and you know you've really got no choice here than to follow. with tears in your eyes, you slowly crawl forward, making her tug on the leash. "faster, you're too slow." she grumbled, making you approach her faster.

as soon as you were on your knees, right in front of her, you put your hand on her lap and stared at the intimidating bulge in her pants. you slowly pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

your eyes widened at the mere sight of her dick, she was at least 7 inches-- and you were going to take that in your mouth? "very good, you're finally putting some sense in you." she praised you, her other hand now making it's way to your head, lightly pressing some weight downwards. "now suck." she commanded, and you didn't want to, you took some time before you leaned down- and it ticked her off.

she pushed down on your head, making you forcefully sink down onto her dick. "i said do not make me wait, obey if you want me to be nice." she warned you as you choked on her, and then she released her grip on your head. "go on, please me. show me that you if you cannot be of help in the battlefield, at least be good at something."

throwing away all your dignity and pride, you lifted your head up, your tongue running along her dick as you did so, before going back down all the way to the base. your actions made arlecchino shiver and she looked down at you with a dark stare, but said nothing.

you repeated this, bobbing your head up and down, and you could hear small little grunts from her. as you went up this time, your tongue ran over the tip, making her groan. you went down, angling yourself so it hit the back of your throat this time. oh, you felt arlecchino shiver. ".. hm, what a slut. you're surprisingly good at this." she told you, now gently grabbing your head and setting the pace. she bobbed your head a bit more faster, but you kept up with your tongue movement earlier. her grunts were becoming louder, but she was becoming more rougher too.

she pushed your head down and pulled on you with no remorse, like you were a toy for her pleasure only. you almost choked, the pace was becoming too fast for you, but she was already thrusting her hips into you. loud groans could be heard from her along with your whimpers and moans at the way she tugged on your hair and used you. she was trembling, her hips stuttering, and before you knew it-

she pulled you off, your lips creating a pop sound. "strip, dear." she commanded, staring down at you with half lidded eyes as she panted. oh, oh no. you didn't want to, but you were determined to see this through and not anger her. you slowly took off your clothes, leaving you only in your underwear. she now, gently took you in her hands, pulling you down on her lap to sit with your back facing her. "darling, open your legs." she purred in your ear. compared to earlier, she was much more gentler and affectionate. you closed your eyes in pure embarrassment, her hand cupping your breast as she spread soft kisses on your neck.

"tsk, those fatui soldiers.. must you know, that even after you've beat them up- they continue to speak about you. incessant chatter about your body, it makes my blood boil."

she whispered against your skin with a tone of possessiveness dripping from her words. her hands gently massaging the mounds of your breast, making you let out soft moans. "they do not know that beneath the orphanage, i hold you captive and that i am the one holding you, not them." as she let go of her words, she started to suck and bite on your skin, her other hand trailing down your tummy as she spoke. "i am not better than them, i am aware.. but i will certainly give you more what they can, my dear. join me, and i will make all of your dreams come true." her gentle words were accompanied with her hand ghosting against your clit, breath grazing against the sensitive marks on your skin, and her other hand squeezing your chest. your mind was hazy, you felt overstimulated, and all you could do was nod. you may not be aware, but arlecchino was overjoyed with your answer. "so wet, little mouse.."

she slowly pulled your underwear off, lifting your hips with only her strength, then kissing your back. she slammed you back down, her dick forcing it's way inside of you. the sheer pain was enough to bring you back to your senses and you gripped onto her lap as you let out a whine. your reaction made arlecchino feel guilty, she immediately wrapped her arms around you. "shh, shh.. i'm sorry, my dear but.. bear with me." she wiped away the tears from your eyes.

"i promise, now that you are mine darling, i will give you all the pleasures in the world.."

[nilolemillion]

Let’s get one thing straight (very unlike me): Batman loves his kids. All of them. He’d die for each one in a heartbeat (of course not kill for them, cough cough Jason). But if you think for one second that Bruce Wayne, the guy who regularly dresses as a bat and fights crime at 3 AM (cough cough insomniac furry.), has a favorite BatKid, then clearly, you’ve never met his children. He doesn’t have a favorite, not because he loves them equally, but because none of these potatoe pie pumpkin cutie-headed chaos gremlins deserve to be his favorite.

Let me explain.

Dick Grayson (WOOP WOOP that’s the sound of that police. Yes Karen, I know he’s no longer an officer, NO KAREN I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.):

The first pancake. The golden boy. Everyone assumes that Dick has a special place in Bruce’s heart because he was the first Robin. He’s charming, he’s capable, and he smiles like he’s got a fucking sponsorship deal with Colgate. But let’s be real, this guy left the nest the second he could, started his own superhero gig in Blüdhaven, and still occasionally shows up to remind Bruce that he doesn’t need him (yes king, show your independence, love that for you.) And you know Dick is the type to throw that ‘you’re getting old, B’ line out there just to twist the knife. Bruce loves him, but how can he be the favorite when he’s busy playing Batman-lite with better hair?

Jason Todd (My personality favorite zombie, resuscitated character in the whole world, I love him so much and all the Outlaws.):

Oh, Jason. The problem child. The one Bruce failed, died, and came back with a vengeance (literally). You’d think after all that tragedy, Bruce might go a little easier on him. But Jason? This kid shows up at family dinners with guns blazing, ready to debate the morality of lethal force like it’s Thanksgiving dinner conversation (and it is, I did it and it was quite fun.) Sure, Bruce would die for him (again), but Jason pushes every button Bruce has like it’s his job. One minute he’s trying to be the better vigilante, the next, he’s making Gotham’s criminals wonder if Batman has gone completely off the rails. If Jason’s Bruce’s favorite, it’s in the ‘how are you still alive and not in jail?’ kind of way.

Tim Drake (DC DROP ANOTHER CANON ILLUSTRATION OF TIM BEING A CUTE LIL STALKER AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!):

Tim’s the brainiac of the family, the kid who deduced Bruce’s secret identity with zero help. Naturally, you’d think this would earn him some serious brownie points. But here’s the thing, Tim works way too hard. He’s got all the signs of a caffeine addiction (which is completely and absolutely understandable, he’s just a little silly and caffeine addicts are hot, yes I am too), zero concept of work-life balance, and is always trying to out-detective Bruce. Yeah, Bruce admires his dedication, but let’s be honest: Tim’s the kid you have to physically shove into bed because he thinks sleep is a myth. Bruce is just trying to prevent this kid from burning out before he’s 30. How can Tim be the favorite when Bruce spends most of his time making sure he doesn’t turn into an insomniac vigilante-zombie?

Damian Wayne (I’m literally making my birthday party theme of him, that should explain enough.):

Ah, Damian. His literal blood son. You’d think that alone would give him a shot at favorite-child status, right? Wrong. Damian is an adorable, pint-sized murder machine with a superiority complex the size of Wayne Manor. Bruce loves him fiercely, of course, but Damian’s idea of father-son bonding is training in deadly combat and arguing about why his assassination techniques are totally valid. Plus, he’s got that whole ‘I’m the heir to the world’s deadliest league of assassins’ thing going on. Sure, he’s Bruce’s kid, but you know he’s never going to let Bruce forget it. Not exactly favorite material when he’s constantly plotting world domination during family movie night. (Dw, he won’t act on it, Alfred made very clear that the batkid who dares dominate the world will be banned from his pastries. Besides, he’s too busy scratching Titus’ belly, he doesn’t have time to dominate the world. PRIORITIES BITCH.)

Cassandra Cain (I stan her more than I stand my own life. Help. I literally crocheted a plushy of her.):

Cassandra is probably the least rebellious out of the bunch, which should give her an edge, right? Wrong again. Cass may be quiet and respectful most of the time, but when she does go rogue, it’s on her terms, and it’s not just a small rebellion. No, Cass will disappear for weeks on end, take down a crime syndicate by herself, and then show up like it’s no big deal. Bruce can’t even stay mad because she’s so good at what she does. But Cass’s habit of ghosting the entire family and dealing with things solo? Yeah, it keeps her out of the running for favorite. Plus, she’s secretly the most dangerous one, and Bruce can’t play favorites with someone who could take him out without even blinking.

Duke Thomas (He’s was the sunshine I was midnight rain. DC DROP ANOTHER CANON ILLUSTRATION OF ISABELLA WITH DUKE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!):

Duke the daylight protector of Gotham, which is cute and all, except that Bruce has no idea how to parent in the daylight. Duke brings this bright, positive energy to the BatFamily, which sounds great in theory, but this is Bruce we’re talking about. The guy who lives for darkness and brooding. Bruce loves Duke’s optimism, but it’s like trying to teach a vampire to enjoy the sun. Plus, Duke has a habit of questioning everything, and sure, Bruce appreciates his independent streak, but do you really want a favorite who keeps making you reconsider your life choices?

Stephanie Brown (My sweet dear and beloved purple queen, I love her so much.):

Not an adopted batkid, her mom is alive I think… But I don’t give a duck KAREN. Stephanie is the wildcard, the one who does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and somehow gets away with it. She’s staged fake deaths, gotten fired from being Robin, and still keeps coming back for more. Stephanie’s whole existence is an exercise in chaos theory. Bruce loves her resilience and her ‘never-say-die’ attitude (literally), but how can she be his favorite when her middle name might as well be ‘Loose Cannon’? She’s the kind of kid who’ll fight crime while live-tweeting it. Yeah, Bruce loves her, but he’s not rewarding that kind of energy with a favorite child title. (I’m still confused about her age thingy.)

So no, Bruce doesn’t have a favorite. Because how could he? His kids are walking, talking disasters, each one a different flavor of chaos. Bruce loves them all more than anything in the world, but picking a favorite would be like trying to choose between different natural disasters. Earthquakes, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, they’re all beautiful in their own destructive way, but you wouldn’t want to pick one to live through. In the end it’s about Bruce somehow surviving all of them.

[dedalvs]

I've been listening to the langtime studio chats and it's made me wonder, what are some of your favorite hard rock/heavy metal bands? What kind of genres do you tend to enjoy?

What is and is not metal has changed over the years. It's kind of like how in the 90s every single new band was "alternative", a genre designation which ended up meaning nothing. I loved (and still love) bands like Van Halen, Bon Jovi, the Scorpions, and Def Leppard, which, believe it or not, were considered metal at one time or another. I was also a huge fan of Soundgarden which was called metal on an episode of Northern Exposure I recently rewatched. But my first real metal band was Megadeth.

In 1994 Megadeth came out with an album called Youthanasia which was accompanied by a music video for the song "Train of Consequences" that ran on MTV. The same way that Van Halen's "Hot for Teacher" begins with a drum solo that's reminiscent of a motorcycle engine, the guitar in the beginning of "Train of Consequences" is reminiscent of a steam train engine. Trains are something that have always fascinated me, so the video caught my attention. Soon I was looking forward to it in the regular rotation of music videos on MTV (at the time, this would've been Weezer, Stone Temple Pilots, Soundgarden, Coolio, Nirvana, Liz Phair, TLC, etc. [all good stuff!]). The singer of a band can really turn me on or off, and Dave Mustaine's voice is unique. At the time, when I thought of metal, it was primarily screaming, but Dave Mustaine was singing, and I found that interesting. I bought the album, and soon had all of Megadeth's albums. I was hooked.

From Megadeth, I moved on to Metallica, when I learned that Dave Mustaine formed Megadeth after getting kicked out of Metallica. Metallica itself was an interesting story at that time. They came out with the black album, which was a mega mega hit (and controversially so, as metal fans saw it as a departure from real metal), and then they disappeared, with Nirvana and alternative taking over. Then, after years of nothing, suddenly they release a new song, "Until It Sleeps", which sounds...weird. It was followed by the album Load, which...I mean, listen to "Mama Said" and tell me that's metal. I heard "Hero of the Day" played on Coast—the adult easy listening station. Whether you could get into or not, it definitely did not sound like Metallica—or metal, as we understood it. They did accidentally invent the band Volbeat with Load, for which we must all be grateful, but still, with Megadeth getting a new lineup very album, Metallica going off the rails, Iron Maiden with Blaze Bailey, it was clear that metal was moving forward, so I needed to move backwards.

I started going back and finding any metal band from the 80s that I'd heard of to see what I liked. Guns N' Roses and Ozzy Osbourne were easy favorites. I dug everything they did. Other more glam/hair metal bands I didn't really get into as much—Poison, White Snake, Mötley Crüe, LA Guns… But then I found Queensrÿche. Queensrÿche was the favorite band of my history teacher, so I gave them a listen. They'd come out with a new album, Promised Land, and then I happened to get as my second album of theirs Rage for Order, and I lucked into what would end up being my two favorite Queensrÿche albums and two of my favorite albums of all time. The album Rage for Order is sheer perfection—and one of my name-alikes is thanked in the Special Thanks section! I mean, look at this photo:

If that isn't a fuckin' mood! Geoff Tate singing like a gothic opera singer, everything that can have a harmony being harmonized, every one of them taking every aspect of it so desperately seriously. This album is an entire genre all by itself. It was so good Stratovarius wrote, essentially, a terrible fan fiction song based on "Screaming in Digital" (with, perhaps, some influence from "NM 156" from Queensrÿche's first album The Warning). It also serendipitously to introduced me to Dalbello (a real life Robin Sparkles transformation), whom everyone should check out (seriously, check out whomanfoursays. She just laid it all out).

Queensrÿche also disappointed after Promised Land in the 90s, but I want to return to Iron Maiden. My introduction to Iron Maiden was The X Factor. This was their 1995 album, the first with former Wolfsbane singer Blaze Bayley. I didn't know that. I assumed what I was listening to was the Iron Maiden—the ones Bill and Ted waxed so eloquently about. All I could determine is that maybe they just got old...? I didn't get how the band I was listening to could have ever been popular.

Fast forward a couple years and I'm listening to the only metal show left on SoCal radio after KNAC died and I hear a song that sounds like nothing I've ever heard before. Fast-paced with a beat like galloping horses and a singer with power, range, vibrato, but also a kind of wild, undisciplined menace not found in more refined singers like Geoff Tate of Queensrÿche. Who was this band?! Clearly someone from the 80s I hadn't heard, but I thought I'd heard everything. The song finished, and then the DJ came on listing all the songs in the set, finishing up with "Run to the Hills" by Iron Maiden.

Clearly I had been duped. I went back to the record store to look up Iron Maiden's old albums and, lo and behold, only the most recent album featured Blaze Bayley. Before that there were seven albums featuring lead singer Bruce Dickinson.

A few albums later, Iron Maiden was my favorite metal band. Pretty soon I'd listened to everything—including the first two with Paul DiAnno which I would come to appreciate later—and I was disappointed. There was nothing left! Iron Maiden came out with a new album with Blaze, and we were cursed with "Como Estáis Amigos?" and other disappointments, but it became clear that the Iron Maiden I'd falle in love with was a thing of the past. Imagine what I felt when I was back home from college and heard on the radio a commercial for a new Iron Maiden album with a song I'd never heard being sung by none other than Bruce Dickinson. The song was "The Wickerman", the album was Brave New World, and I would go on to see Bruce Dickinson and Iron Maiden in concert six times—and a seventh coming this October (with the Hu!!!!!! I'm so pumped!!!!!).

There's a lot more to tell here—like the time I visited my ex-girlfriend in Michigan after she'd moved away hoping to rekindle a relationship that I didn't realize was deader than 8-track only to be introduced to Dream Theater by her older brother, or the time the company my friend worked for was hacked with all computers playing a song that would introduce me to Finnish heavy metal, or how looking into James Ronny Dio led me to the truly baffling yet kind of sweet story of Blackmore's Night—but as this is getting long, here are some highlights that haven't yet been mentioned with one song I'll recommend (bands with an asterisk I've seen live):

European Power Metal

Nightwish* ("Bless the Child")

Sonata Arctica* ("My Selene")

Epica ("Cry for the Moon (The Embrace that Smothers, Part IV)")

Lacuna Coil* ("Our Truth")

Delain* ("Stardust")

Amberian Dawn ("I Share with You This Dream")

Helloween ("Power")

Sound-Alike Bands

Crimson Glory ("Lonely")

Autograph ("Hammerhead")

Enforcer ("From Beyond")

The Sword ("Lament for the Aurochs")

Proto-Metal

Black Sabbath* ("Sweet Leaf")

UFO ("Doctor, Doctor")

Deep Purple ("Burn")

Hawkwind ("Assault and Battery/The Golden Void")

Not Quite Metal

Faith No More ("From Out of Nowhere")

X-Japan ("Silent Jealousy")

System of a Down ("Chop Suey")

Tool* ("Sober")

Monster Magnet* ("Mastermind")

The Mars Volta ("Goliath")

Mdou Moctar ("Ilana")

All right, I put a lot of time into finding all those links, so listen to some of those songs! I could write a book on this. I've already taken two hours too long, though. Need to get back to the stuff they pay me to do! >.<

[genyawritesshizz]

A Hum of Time Toshinori Yagi X Reader

Part 2

Part 1

Summary: An innocent relationship between two workaholics could not possibly be that eventful. Just two individuals finding comfort within each other's company and the occasional cup of coffee. What happens when a secret that could ruin both of their careers brings the whole thing crashing down? In a heart wrenching decision, you must do what is best for all three of you and brave the future alone. Will you ever tell the truth? You might not have a choice.

10661-word count

first part of the fluff. Gotta get all cute and mushy before I go in for the kill ;)

To go back to when the two of you actually had time to talk and frolic within each other's company. When the future seemed brighter: When things were easier.

You had signed to work for All Might’s agency a few months ago, and so far, it has been an absolute delight. The pay was incredible, but the most remarkable aspect was how well organized the staff conducted missions and reports. As an up-and-coming hero, you needed a stable foundation to grow.

Toshinori typically kept to himself, pushing his full focus onto the task at hand when it came to anything work related. Head always glued to his computer screen and hands typing away on keyboard. A crucial and unrecognized portion of hero work involved never ending hours of paperwork. Between reports, emails and the overflowing inbox of media or fan mail he rarely found time for breaks when in office. However, he’d force himself to take short breathers from time to time, just to rest his reddened eyes from the blazing screen.

He always picked the same seat in the cafeteria; tucked into a corner beside one of the many extensive windows to gaze out at the surprisingly still busy street he sat alone. The room was silent as it was well past lunch, in fact most of his employees had already gone home for the night as it was nearing 8PM. Recapping his daily to-do list within his mind he sighed, so much to do with so little time in the day.

“Um excuse me” whipping away from the street view he is faced with a woman standing before him, a laptop in hand and frustration evident on her face. “I'm so sorry to interrupt your break sir but I had a question, and I was wondering if you could help.” 

Shocked, his train of thought fell off the rails. In his weakened form it was exceedingly rare for anyone to approach him much less ask for help. 

“Of course,” Nodding to the seat in front of him, his mind scrambled to recover. Sitting down with the laptop you sighed in defeat.

“Thank you so much, nobody else is here and this report is due tonight.” Turning the screen to face him you began explaining your dilemma, something about incorrect formatting, an easy fix for someone like him who could practically type one of these up in his sleep. Though he did not recognize you with a quick scan of the file you were attempting to submit he recognized it as a heroic police report. A document that all heroes must submit after an arrest. To the average secretary it would not have sparked suspicion from a simple glance. However the discretely marked fine print was all too familiar to him. You must be one of the newly contracted heroes. He hadn’t had the time to properly look over the roster of employees in quite some time, truly a neglectful fault of his. He made a mental note to check.

After showing and explaining how to fix the format your report was submitted.

“Again, thank you so much…” You trailed off “Oh yeah, I completely forgot! Im (Y/N).” You felt like a total ass; You had marched up to this complete stranger durring his break, made demands that he assist you and didn’t even introduce yourself. Your cheeks tinted in embarrassment. The man chuckled, he hadn’t even noticed the lack of formalities. 

“No worries (y/n),  Im Toshinori Yagi” He reached a slender hand out, which you happily shook. Taking your own mental note of how his digits completely encased your own hand, nearly reaching the wrist. “Let me know if you ever need help again.” He smiled and let go.

“It’s nice meeting you Toshinori, I’ll be seeing you around!” Returning the smile graciously and folding the laptop closed, you got up to walk away. His eyes trailed your retreating form.

He thought that this would surely be the only time your two paths crossed. A fluke scenario.  

Oh, how fate had a funny way of making things happen.

It was another long night of burning the candle at both ends for the symbol. The weight on his eyelids begged him to call it a night as he finally wrapped up his nightly duties. Yet when rounding the corner and coming face to face with someone, almost knocking both parties over, he was wide awake. Focusing instead on ensuring the person he’d carelessly almost ran over was unharmed with profuse apologies. There you stood, a steaming hot cup of coffee in hand, thankfully non spilled onto your wrinkled blouse, and a pile of papers the size of Texas in the other. 

“Hey Toshinori! ” His name rolled casually off your tongue. You looked dead on your feet, the same bags that lined his eyes matched yours.  “You’re good! No harm done” 

“Hey?” Confused, he glanced over to the double handed clock on the wall, 11:34pm. His thin eyebrows furrowed, casting a dark shadow. “What are you doing here so late? It’s almost midnight.” Laughing lightly you eyed him skeptically, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Before he could try and concoct an excuse you continued “I figured I’d get the last of this finished otherwise it’ll just pile up.” He could argue that it already was.

“Did you need help with that?” The aforementioned exhaustion had crawled away into the deep recesses of his mind, most likely to return with a vengeance later, at the thought of being able to help you again.

“No no, I'm okay, besides a bunch of this stuff is pretty classified.” He wanted to chuckle at that, as All Might he had full access to any and all files in this building, from a delivery receipt to top secret government documents. His reach most likely exceeded that but, as Toshinori Yagi the department head he had to respect the illusion of limitations. 

“Oh right, sorry.” He scratched at the back of his neck, feeling a bit of awkwardness sink in. 

“No worries, thank you for the offer though” once again he watched you walk away, down the hallway and out of sight.

His own personal curiosity nagged at him to finally find the time to properly look at your file. Taking his rebound of energy now was as good a time as any, best to do it while it was fresh on the mind. Turning his computer on again he pulled up the agency's employee catalog and searched your name. There you were, that same smile you gave him moments ago reflected in the photo. 

‘(Y/n) (y/l/n) - Siren. Quirk; Voice. ’ Scrolling through your profile he skimmed over the most recent reports. Not shocked to see some having been posted mere minutes ago. Not bad, great in fact, you’d only started here two months ago and already had a substantial amount of arrests under your belt. Although most were for minor offenses it set a promising future. Scrolling back up he read through the short biography under your photo graduated UA with substantially high marks seven years ago, studied at The University of Kyoto with a major in business, had been a sidekick under various different heroes for two years, and over the last year have been working as a private pro hero. Now at the age of twenty five you’d been contracted under his prestigious agency. The recruiting team really knew how to pick the best, he’d have to praise them for their dedication. With the itch satisfyingly scratched he, for the final time tonight, shut his computer off.

Like clockwork, late at night, when the halls were barren wastelands, the sound of a coffee pot brewing another batch and the buzz of overhead fluorescents somehow always connected the two of you. 

“Good evening (y/n)” Yagi greeted from the other side of the printer, both of you sporting matching stacks of paperwork in hand.

“ Evening Toshi, how are you?” He always enjoyed these little chats and the nickname you’d given him, it made him feel more like a person.

 As strange as it sounds, if he wasn’t out being a public symbol he was in meetings or filing paperwork about it, not that he minded of course. It was his job, his sole purpose in life, yet it often left him feeling like a ghost when in his normal form. If he wasn’t actively being All Might then he was simply just existing. But with you, you actually spoke to him, to Toshinori Yagi. He found himself yearning for more, even if ‘more’ meant just brief casual workplace conversation.

“I’m fine thank you, and yourself?” Gathering the warm paper from under the collection doc he organized his stack.

“Oh you know me.” You laughed. It’s true, throughout the passing weeks he had grown to know you as a workaholic, just like himself.  With your coffee freshly poured you turned to exit.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” The words left his mouth so effortlessly, spilling out without giving himself time to process what exactly he’d asked.

“That’d be nice, I’d love the company.” Before his mind could spasm with embarrassment and explode with apologies for intruding, your reply stopped the thoughts dead in their tracks. Grabbing his items the two walked down the hall side by side. He no longer had to watch you leave.

The sounds of keys tapping, papers shuffling, and the occasional quiet sip of coffee filed the otherwise silent room. To compromise from your refusal before he sat in a swivel chair oppositely facing your own along with any papers not currently being worked on were to remain downward facing, as to keep some privacy. Though with his height, if he wanted to, he could easily look down at your screen. Even sitting Toshinori towered over you. Not that he would ever break the thin layer of trust you’d built together by peaking. The clock ticked on, minutes turned to hours and soon it was half past one. Yagi had finished his daily reports and scanning through his emails about an hour ago yet he could not bring himself to get up and leave. Instead he chose to sit and wait for you. The silence brought a sense of comfort. That was until a soft humming called his attention. The sound so smooth and airy if it hadn’t been for the dead quiet he would’ve lost it. Taking a quick glance down at you, still weary of possibly invading privacy, he noted your body language. Your eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration, yet your forefinger tapped to the same beat you hummed. It must’ve been absent minded. Not wanting to break your focus to ask the name of the song, as he did not recognize it, he instead gladly listened as your voice swelled and lowered to the beat your finger set. 

“Alright and done” With one final mouse click you had finally finished for the night. “How are you doing over there Toshi?” Peaking over your screen you scanned his work area, everything had been stacked and paperclipped into neat piles. Looking from the stack up the man he meekly smiled down to you. 

“Just finished” Not a complete lie, he had actually busied himself with organizing. Not something he typically ever had time to do, but a nice way to pass time and something his future self would be thankful for.

“Perfect, well, thank you for your company.” This was your dismissal of him, and as kindly as you worded it, it still gave him sinking disappointment. His body begged for him to say something to stall and give more time. He did not want to watch you leave, not yet. 

“I'll walk you to your car if that’s okay.” Once again he found himself speaking without thinking. ‘What has gotten into me?’  He's never been this outspoken while in his weakened form. 

“Oh that’s okay, I walked” This ignited a spark in him, he could feel the hidden inner All Might guiding his actions.

“It’s one in the morning and way too dangerous for you to walk home alone! Please allow me to go with you.” You were more than capable of handling yourself. Toshinori of course knew this, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Especially with the spiked rate of crime recently. At least that was his excuse for the offer, instead of his true selfishness of wanting more human interaction. You contemplated the offer for a few seconds. For anyone else to ask such a thing you would’ve found it to be creepy, but from Yagi, your quiet but friendly late-night coworker, it felt nobel. Though you knew little to nothing about the tall blonde who sat in your office, he practically radiated a sense of safety and honesty. Like the first ray of sunshine peeking through the cloud after a storm. Besides, if he tried anything with malicious intent you’d deal with it swiftly. A small smile tugged at the edges of your lips as you caved and agreed to his offer.

As the two of you awaited the next elevator cart you sparked a small conversation, curious about the man who’d taken a bit of your interest. 

“So Toshinori, tell me a little about yourself.” 

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, for starters how long have you been working for the agency?” 

“I’ve been here since the beginning.”

“The beginning as in the opening of the department?” Your eyebrow rose in suspicion while his furrowed. Nervously fiddled with the sleeve of his cuffed shirt he knew he was about to give away his age with this next admission. Already knowing there was a bit of a gap between the two of you he hoped you wouldn’t think of him as some old geezer. 

“No, the beginning as in the opening of the agency. So about ten years.” Your eyes widened with a light gasp. 

‘If he's truly been here for that long then he must be some higher up, a boss, most likely a department head or upper ranked manager. I hope I’ve made a good impression. This job is critical to my career.’ You thought. Taking notice of your shocked expression, his worries flooded. 

“Are you friends with All Might or something?” You teased with a chuckle, hoping he’d laugh as well to quail your own insecurities. Finally the doors to the elevator opened awaiting its passengers. Walking inside you pressed the ground floor button. Thankfully missing the way his face dropped for a split second before quickly regaining his composure. He tried to laugh with you, sounding a bit forced but still managed to convince you. Now standing beside you he felt both relieved you hadn’t thought of his age but hearing the possible connection to All Might sent a shiver down his back. 

“Something like that, I know him.” You once again felt intimidated at his words. You had meant it as a rhetorical question but hearing him admit he did in fact know All Might had your mind buzzing with curiosity. “But then again who doesn’t?” Visibly relaxing you knew you’d most definitely blown his words out of proportion. He was right, who didn’t know All Might? He was the world's number one, the best of the best. 

‘Surely having worked for him for over a decade I’d hope he knew him.’  Again you pushed the little part of you that spewed anxiety down. 

“Ya know, I’ve worked here for almost half a year and have yet to actually meet him. Though, I can't say I'm surprised, being the symbol of peace he must be unbelievably busy.”  

‘You have no idea’ The fact that he had any downtime to even sleep was a miracle. Yet, here he was, spending those precious free moments to stand in this elevator and walk you home. In his eyes, it was time well spent even if his aching body begged for his bed.

“From what I’ve seen over the years, yes, his schedule is usually packed. But who knows maybe you’ll run into him one day.” He prayed it would be under pleasant circumstances. Most people who met his heroic form were in danger or in need of help. Another mental note was made to try and squeeze in time around the office as All Might, for morality's sake of course. You hummed at his statement, allowing the comfort of silence to once again fill the air. The ding of the elevator signaled it had reached its destination.

The walk was similar to your time together in the office, quiet, but never awkward, oddly relaxing. You had begun humming again, the same song from before. His curiosity grew, without the constraint of breaking focus he had to ask.

“What song is that?” 

“Oh sorry, was I being annoying?” You felt your cheeks redden, you hadn’t realized you were humming aloud, It was something you did absentmindedly. Normally you could catch yourself but with the lack of sleep it must’ve slipped past the filter. 

“No, no, you sounded great, but I don’t recognize the song. I just wanted to know what it was.” Toshinori felt his own embarrassment rise, he didn’t mean to come off as rude for asking, he simply wanted to have a conversation. Looking up at the man who towered over you, an eyebrow raised and your eyes glowed with excitement, their own curiosity flowing. 

“Do you like classical music?” Pondering your question, Toshinori reminisced on his limited collection of music. Recently he preoccupied the otherwise tense silence of car rides with whatever was on the radio. Not paying it much attention, just something to fill the void. In his younger years he enjoyed light rock and the occasional new wave. The only time he could recall ever hearing anything related to classical was when attending mandatory formals. 

“To be honest it’s not something I've ever really listened to, but I am open to giving it a try.” 

You smiled up at him, “The song was La Boheme, maybe next time I'll play it for you”  His heart picked up its pace, lightly hammering against his chest. You said ‘next time’, as in these office hangouts would be a recurring thing? He definitely would not mind that. In fact, he hoped you had meant it. 

“Well this is my stop, thank you for walking with me Toshi. It was really thoughtful of you.” 

“Of course” Standing on your doorstep you looked back at him, it felt wrong to leave him like this; out in the driveway, walking alone down the lamppost lit sidewalk. As if there was something else that needed to be done or said, strange. You watched as he waved goodbye and began walking away. Just for a few more moments before shaking away the odd feeling.

Your nighttime routine quickly evolved,it wasn’t everyday, but most that he found himself sitting across from you. Both whittling away at the never ending piles of papers. You’d happily hum a song as time ticked by and Toshinori listened. Sometimes he’d surprise you with a coffee from the break room, made a tad on the bitter side for your liking but you’d always drink it anyways. The gesture always had you smiling, to know such simple things made you giddy, had him wishing he could do more.

At the end of the long grind out of paperwork he would always walk you home, it truly made your heart soar as this was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for you. Even if you were a hero and would 100% be okay with walking the short fifteen minutes home, the fact that he did not know this and was willing to risk his own safety to protect you caused a warmth within your chest. Truly selfless, a quality all heroes should have. Your emotions ran high, each time growing fonder. 

Walking into the office you felt as light as air, despite the still stinging scratch in your throat, nothing could bring you down. You had successfully infiltrated and apprehended an underground trading ring. As an up and coming hero having your first major headliner was no small feat. Opening the door to your office your eyes immediately landed on the still steaming cup of coffee resting on the desk with a sticky note attached to the side. The cup was not the cheap styrofoam from the break room, instead the cardboard had elegantly swirly floral patterns, it must have been from a cafe. 

Peeling the note off it read,

‘Won’t be in, Have a great night (y/n) -Toshi’

Although you were a little disheartened at the fact your…friend would not be accompanying you tonight, the fact that he bought you a coffee sent your heart doubling in beats. As the sweet foamed top hit your lips you could not help but acknowledge the fact that Toshinori was truly a charming man. You’d have to thank him for this sometime. 

It was an odd morning, the agency had decided to schedule you for night patrol as opposed to your normal daytime route. Being at the office within its peak business rush felt nauseating, you could handle the crowded streets at the crosswalks, reporters, and flocks of fans but the overcrowded elevators and lines out the door to reach the front desk had your heart palpitating. 

Typically when walking in you’d be suited up, as you’d just finished patrolling, and any left over crowds would part like Moses to the sea for you. However as a regular appearing worker you were just another person clogging the flow. All you had to do was make it to your office then things would be normal again, or so you thought. Finally maneuvering out from the crowd you found relief at last. Sitting down with a huff at your swivel chair and opening the encrypted browser it hit you, what were you supposed to do? Typically in office you’d be filling reports from the patrol but seeing as though your schedule was flipped left you scrambling to fill time. You never thought you’d be cursing yourself for staying up to date on reports until now. The only thing to do was read through your emails and hopefully, well maybe not hopefully, get called out to the field early. 

Your jaw nearly fell to the floor when opening your email. The glowing red notification bell chimed and a triple digit number filled the box. Closing the tab and reopening it you find that it was in fact not a glitch, that number was real. Scrolling through the unread emails your mind began fizzling with both pure excitement and dread. From cute to weird, hundreds of new and old fans congratulated you on your recent arrest. Even some lesser known newspaper outlets and beginner journalists had sent emails asking for interviews. 

An email that stood out and had you grinning from ear to ear was from a mother and son. She said that her little boy had a quirk similar to yours and that he had ‘fallen in love’ with you. Attached was a video of him. His vibrant blond hair had been styled into an outlandishly tall spike atop his head, dazzling green eyes stared up into the camera. He could be no older than eleven.

“You’re the coolest hero ever, Siren! I want to be a hero just like you! YEEEAAAHHH” He held out a peace sign as his vocal quirk activated causing the camera to shake and wobble. Laughing and being sure to save the video onto your desktop you made a mental note to send a video response encouraging the boy once you were suited up.

Of course a few bad apples left you feeling a bit grossed out with their overly sexual comments, which were promptly blocked, yet your chest swelled with pride and devotion. With the first couple dozen email replies you tried to take time to appreciate their support. However as your finger typed then deleted and retyped again you felt at a loss for words. Staring at the bouncing line waiting for your text you felt restless. Yes, of course you wanted to pour your heart out to each and every one of them but the sheer number had you overwhelmed  and flustered. Already sending over two hundred emails you eyed the clock and sighed with relief, it’s almost lunch time. Before you could look back down your eyes did a double take outside the sliver of a window was a towering figure walking. Quickly sliding out from behind your desk you dashed to the door and pulled it open, managed to catch the backside of the slender built man.

Were you really about to chase after him?

With feet thudding against the carpeted floor, not quite running but fast enough to try and catch up, you tailed after him. 

Yes, yes you were.

Rounding the corner you felt like an ant as you were met with a bustling swarm of people, the room was ariot of voices all merging together to create a hive minded roar. Peering over their heads on your tippy toes you finally spotted your target. Thankfully he towered over the average person. You’d have to ask him exactly how tall he was, for now you needed to sift through the hoard to even talk to him. 

“Excuse me” “Pardon” “Just trying to squeeze by” “Sorry”

“(Y/n)?” Stopping your struggle, you stopped dead in your tracks, finally, Toshinori stood a few feet away. Confusion clearly read across his face. 

“Toshi!” You called, waving a hand out. Somehow the man was able to cut through the winding lanes of traffic with ease and soon he stood before you in silence, an eyebrow raised but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Realizing he was waiting for an explanation as to why you had followed him your mind short circuited and snapped back to reality. Why exactly did you race after him again?

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for the coffee last night, that was really nice of you.” You felt like a bashful schoolgirl, a deer caught in the headlights, so shy and exposed. Even with your half thought out reasoning his hinted smile blossomed into a full teeth flaunting grin. A bony hand coming up to comb the spiked hair at his nape, a nervous habit he had yet to nix.

“It was no problem at all, really.” A moment of silence passed the two of you once again locked in a stalemate of bashful eye contact. Thinking on your feet an idea popped into your head.

“Would you like to grab some with me?” The tips of Toshinori’s ears and apples of his cheeks felt hot as a rush of blush spread over them. His ears heard the words yet his poor brain failed to understand their meaning, over analyzing and exaggerating the situation. Surely you weren’t asking him on a date, no, this was simply just to return his kindness. Not that he’d mind if it was, but if it was then wh-

“If you’re free, that is, I’m pretty much done with everything for now” You lied. Truth be told you desperately needed out of that office for if you read one more email your corneas would combust. Feeling rather awkward at his growing silence, your brain scrambled to make light of the situation. Knocked out of his own spiraling mind he regained his composure.

“Yeah sure, I was actually on my way out now.” He was not lying completely. His full truth was that he’d been on his way to get some much needed rest, he had been up all night tracking down a potential lead. Hurried and ready to return to his bed before exhaustion had him passing out on the way, he felt a second wind at your offer. Suddenly awake and well aware of his surroundings. “Where would you like to go?” 

Your own mind pondered the depth of your offer. Did you just ask him on a date? Not necessarily, however if he wanted to think of it as one you were not opposed.

“I know a place.” 

The walk was brief, just had to cross a few streets over. However, the violent whip of wind against your bodies had both of you shivering. Hastily trying to telepathically speed up the timer of the cross walk. Looking over to Toshinori you took pity on the thin male. His thin long nose was beat red and face pale aside from his cheeks which looked almost frostbitten. His hands rubbed together to try and generate some form of warmth. Shivers racked through his body, his coat and long-sleeved shirt did nothing to protect him from the unfortunate cold front that had swept through Japan. At any moment you expected him to sprout icicles. Winter was approaching with a vengeance. As an avid weather watcher you had been more than prepared for the front. With your winter coat, thick knit sweater and scarf you were faring much better. Just as another blast of wind threatened to reap the blonde's soul, a weight wrapped itself around his neck. Instantly warmth surrounded his frozen skin.

“Here, you look frozen solid” Looking down to you he watched as you stood on your tippy toes. Hands outstretched as you wrapped your scarf around him. A tender smile, the softness in your eyes coupled with the gesture had him astonished. You were so close. Bringing his own hands up he held the fabric, running his fingertips along the crocheted yarn. He felt his face warm up and not just from the scarf. He’s certain that if it wasn’t for the blood already pooling in his chilled skin he’d rival a tomato.

“Thank you (y/n)” You did not reply, instead you gave him a simple nod of reassurance. Your own cheeks turn a shade of crimson, surely just due to the cold. The signal at last changed and the couple briskly walked the last stretch.

A ‘place’ being a hole in the wall cafe located a few blocks away from the tower. Yagi never had a chance to frequent this shop as every time he was out and about it was either far too early or late and the cafe was closed. That or he was in a rush to get somewhere. Either way he just never could find the time. For you, this cafe was a home away from home. A place where you break your couple hour fast, also known as sleeping, from caffeine first thing in the morning. 

Even though the staff only recognized you as Siren walking through the chiming door frame and having the delicious smell of black coffee with a hint of cigarette smoke still felt nostalgic.

“What can I get started for you?” The larger women behind the counter typically automatically rang up your order however, In civilian clothes and with a man you were unrecognizable. Though rough around the edges she was truly excellent at her craft. 

“Good afternoon, I’ll have a medium brown sugar espresso please.” You started, glancing over at Toshinori awaiting his order. He bit lightly at the inside of his lip while scanning the menu. Truth be told he had no idea what he was looking at. Before meeting you he was always more of a tea drinker. Very few times had he dabbled in the world of coffee. The one he bought for you yesterday was a shot in the dark, completely at the barista's discretion. 

“I’ll have the same.” You smiled up at him, you did not expect him to copy your order. You found it oddly adorable.

“Never hurts to try new things.” He sheepishly smiled back at you, the irony to be saying that over coffee given the recent enlightenment of feelings felt rather silly. Hopefully you hadn’t picked up on his hidden innuendo. However, the light blush on your cheeks and the way you quickly looked away in search of a table suggested otherwise. Picking a cozy table beside the window you attempted to calm your raging emotions. A light coating of frost coated the window, it was snowing. Taking a seat across from you, his long arms resting atop the table folding in on the other. His eyes scan the retro decor, taking everything in him not to stare at the women before him. The faint smell of your perfume and body wash wafted into his nose thanks to the scarf, which he found so fitting for you. Warm and inviting, cozy, he could drown in it. Allowing himself to steal a glance over to you, your eyes watched the small tv in the corner of the cafe. The older flatscreen showed one of the many local news channels.

Broadcasting was an overview of this week's crime report, “Several arrests have been made following the take down of a local drug trading ring at the hands of newcomer hero Siren. It is believed to be linked to a much larger operation; the case is currently still under police investigation.” 

He saw the way your lips curled in a proud and determined grin as the reporter spoke of your accomplishment. His own mind felt the same. He had taken down thousands of villains yet the satisfaction of it never dulled. Seeing his fellow heroes succeed in chipping away at the tyranny of evil always made his chest swell with pride.

“She did an amazing job.” He stated, distracting you from the casting. Keeping your composure as to not give anything away you nodded in agreement. Even if he was complimenting you without realizing it you felt your heart hammering against your chest and suppressed giddiness bubbling. 

A call of your name signaled your order was ready. Taking the coffees in hand you passed one to Toshi. He eyed it before taking a small sip.

“This is delicious!” He proclaimed, taking another gulp from the cup. Those few times he did try coffee had been less than pleasurable, even with the occasional splash of creamer. However, the lack of nose scrunching bitterness combined with the silky-smooth foam top had his mind soaring. You couldn’t help but giggle at the newly formed foam mustache that sat atop his thin lip. Subconsciously you had grabbed a napkin and began wiping it away. Upon realizing you had crudely invaded his personal space you quickly pulled your hand back.

“Sorry!” 

Toshi once again felt heated, he could not catch a break from being flustered. He had not been touched by a woman in… He was vastly unprepared, almost intimidated at the intimacy. Your touch was tender and gentle against him. A sputtering cough wrecked through his body. Taking a napkin of his own he coughed into it for a few seconds before finishing wiping it away. 

“No no, thank you. I didn’t even realize I’d made a mess.” He tried to sound confident,  You responded with a nervous laugh, trying to push your own embarrassment aside. 

“Ever considered growing a mustache?” He joined in your laughter. The sound of his lower baritone voice mingling with your higher pitch was music to your ears. 

“Definitely not my style.” His style in question seemed to only consist of wearing clothing far too large for him and allowing his spiked blonde hair to go wild, yet somehow you still found it alluring. In its own messy Toshinori way.

“So” You paused, contemplating your next move. You’d never asked personal questions throughout all the endless nights of paperwork, keeping everything somewhat professional and surface level. Weather, the local news, or how the damned coffee maker in the breakroom sometimes spit grounds in the bottom of the pot. However, with the ever-growing flame between you two it only felt right to dig a little deeper now out of the confines of the office walls. His thin eyebrow rose, and his head tilted to the side. Stirring the contents of your own coffee cup you thought of a couple questions, again, nothing too deep yet nothing superficial. 

“Do you have a quirk?” He sighed; a shot of fear ran down your spine. Had you crossed a line? Was that too personal? It seemed pretty standard in modern society to ask w-

“Unfortunately, no, I don't. Back then when I was younger it was a lot more common than it is today.” Once again, he found himself dancing around the truth. It was not a complete lie per se. “What about you?”  Curious as to if you’d also white lie.

“Yes but, it’s really nothing to write home about.” Knowing that you wanted to keep your identity as Siren a secret he should not have pressed it any further, but his curiosity as to where you’d take the conversation compelled him to.

“What is it? Can I see?” 

“Haha, you do know it’s illegal to use a quirk without a license.” Easy cop out, a way to evade his question without seeming suspicious. Smart.

“Alright alright, you got me there. What made you want to start working at the agency?” 

“Helping people has always been a passion of mine, whether that meant becoming a hero or filling the paperwork. I’ve always been willing to do whatever it takes to protect those around me.”  Another well worded reply as to not give away your true profession, Toshinori again felt a ping of pride radiate in his chest. Being a hero, he knew you had to be at least a little selfless but hearing the determination in your words and the glimmer in your eyes solidified that suspicion.

“I feel the same way. After all these years I’ve put into the office my biggest driving factor is that I'm helping others.” 

The two heroes sat together until both cups were empty. Throwing away the now empty containers they began the trek back to the agency. This time you did not mind the push of the wind as it forced your bodies closer. You were so close, if he had the moxy he could reach out and hold your hand. It taunted him, every gust of strong air brought it closer and closer. Maybe if he was in his mighty form he would. But as Yagi Toshinori he felt far too shy. Part of you purposefully baited him, yet he did not take it. 

‘interesting’ 

The days melted together as the weeks slowly ticked by. Your conjoined nightly routine meant the blond was starting to become a regular fixture in your life, not that you minded one bit. His company was always welcomed after a stressfully long patrol; it felt rejuvenating to sit down and relax while wrapping up the daily reports with him. He in turn felt the same. Of course it could not be every night but on the ones it was, both heroes felt the sparks of their blooming relationship burn. 

That was until Thursday, the fourth day in a row of an empty office. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to be out of the office for a few days, however he knew that you were not on any missions as he hadn’t assigned any. This worried him, had something happened? Initially he thought you were out on patrols, perhaps you had shifted to the night crew permanently. Looking at the schedule it was clear that was not the case. Did he scare you away at the coffee shop? He thought it had gone well, great even. Upon checking your profile he found his answer. 

‘Injured in Recover. One week suspension’.  

You’d been hurt fighting a group of thugs, not severely but enough to put you out of commission for a week. Yagi felt an immeasurable amount of guilt, seeing his fellow hero’s hurt always lit a fire inside him but you being hurt unleashed a whole new array of emotions. 

‘But why? Why do I feel like this?’

Why did this make his hands shake and his emotions run rampant? Yes, he considered you were his friend by now, but he’d never felt this way. So raw, so charged, possessive even. 

It scared him.

Monday was when he finally saw you again. It had been eight days since your injury, and you were finally cleared to come back to work. 

When he initially recognized that it was you walking down the hallway a large smile graced his lips, ready to give you a warm hello. However, the way your head hung low and the bend in your posture caused it to slip away. You did not acknowledge him, you never even glanced up, instead you beelined it down the hall and made a swift turn towards your office; the door slamming shut behind you. This did nothing to quail his raging emotions, in fact it just added fuel to the inferno. He could practically feel the sadness radiating off of you. But he remained hopeful, perhaps you had a bad morning.

It was still early in the day, maybe he’d see you in the break room later gathering your usual coffee. It was not to be. He could however hear the buzz of chatter in the room. The way people openly discussed their theories on what happened to you. From an abusive relationship to villian attacks, the rumors spread like wildfire. His fist grew tight as he left the breakroom, having heard enough. He’d have to send a mass email to his department heads about workplace drama. This was absolutely unacceptable behavior.

He understood the embarrassment that came from being hurt better than anyone, as a hero you're supposed to be ‘invincible’, like nothing could possibly hurt you, yet it happened. It happened to him and he was undeniably the strongest hero of them all.

It had only been one year since his injury first occurred and all he ever wanted was for people to stop looking at him with pity, stop coddling him, stop bringing it up and just let him move on. So that’s what he intended to do with you.

 As the clock struck midnight he had yet to see you emerge from your office, the only indicator that you were inside was the sliver of light escaping from under the door. The small window had been drawn closed. As he rounded the corner to check once more the sound of violins and symphony caught his attention. Only loud enough to escape under the door it still caught his attention.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked. Receiving no answer he contemplated leaving, giving you the space you seemed to demand. But, the pit in his stomach demanded to at least check on you. He had to, needed to know if you were okay. He knocked again.

“(y/n)? It’s Toshi.” The music stopped. His breath caught in the back of his throat, until finally the door opened. Standing in the half-cracked entryway you finally made eye contact with him. Finally seeing you face to face again he felt fury flow through his veins. Your lip was bruised a deep purple and split down the side, your cheek did not fare much better matching in shade and your once vibrant eyes seemed dull and puffy. He’d both seen and had worse but seeing those marks on you made his heart sink and hands wad up in a white knuckles fist. He released the stuck air, reminding himself of what he would want in this situation and pushed his concern down “Mind if I join you?”

When you first heard the knock on the door you wanted to ignore it, let whoever was there to piss off, for surely it was another coworker asking questions about your injuries. All day that’s all you heard, whispers and talks about your appearance. If you saw another pamphlet from the local health department on domestic abuse slid under your door you would actually have a meltdown. It was demoralizing and utterly humiliating. You are a hero; you're not supposed to be so weak. Your whole job is to protect the weak. 

However, hearing Toshinori call from the other side made the once dampened spark of happiness light up inside you. Testing the waters to gauge his reaction you opened the door. Seeing him have little to no facial reaction and hearing his question made your tense posture slightly relax. He simply wanted to work with you again.

You opened the door wider for him to step in, like all the times before he sat his laptop across from yours and sat oppositely. You slowly took your usual seat body tense. He noticed the way you flinched when bending to sit, you must be bruised elsewhere as well. Instead of bringing up his concerns he chose to ask something else.

“Could you turn the music back on? It sounded nice.” Your eyebrows raised, looking at him for a second before hitting the play button on your phone. Music filled the quiet room. A soft solo with supporting instruments brought a sense of serenity to the air, melting away the thick tension. Toshinori had hoped to hear you hum to the beat, though unfortunately you did not. Truth be told he just wanted to hear your voice, you had yet to say anything to him. However, he did not want to push for anything more, you were clearly under a lot of emotional conflict and stress. He was simply happy to see you again.

Instead, he allowed the swell and flow of the music to fill his mind.

Your throat felt unbearably dry, definitely an improvement from last week but still the burning sensation had you reaching into your desk drawer for another cough drop. Toshinori couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down at the contents, lozenges, throat sprays, syrups and tea packets overflowed the wooden drawer. Glancing over to the wastebasket, it was filled with handfuls of wrappers, a few used tea bags and crumpled pamphlets.

You caught his eyes, the way they glanced between the drawer, the trash and finally to yourself. Yet, he did not say anything. As if having enough over the counter numbing spray to stock a pharmacy was normal. You squinted at him, analyzing, searching for a reaction to which there was none. Taking a small sticky note out of your pocket you quickly scribbled a message down and slid it over to his side of the desk. 

Looking down at the note Yagi smiled.

‘The name of the song is A time for us - Nina Rota’

Taking his pen he wrote his response and passed it back.

‘The violin solo was pretty. What is the name of the other instrument?’

‘It’s an oboe, a double reeded woodwind instrument.’

He had never heard of such an instrument. The night was spent filing paperwork and passing notes recapping each song that played. A pile of sticky notes now collected on each side. He never questioned aloud your use of notes instead of actual spoken conversation, he was smart enough to put the pieces together. A vocal quirk and that amount of medication must have meant overuse of it results in lack or hindrance in speech. 

Your final report was sent, and with that your last sticky note was sent his way. A small blush dusted your cheeks as you pushed it into his awaiting hand.

‘Walk me home?’ 

After reading the note a large genuine smile stretched up to his hallowed cheek bones. In that moment time felt as though it slowed down, just for a few seconds. With the lack of collagen and much body fat he’d seem somewhat unappealing to some, however taking a genuine look at the man before you, things started popping out like they never had before. The way his messy blond hair framed his prominent sunken cheekbones, you subconsciously wondered if it was as soft as it looked. How deep his cerulean eyes truly went, so much admiration and kindness swam within them as he looked down at you, they almost appeared to be glowing. Did he look at all his friends like this? The note being slid back broke your daze.

‘I’d love to’ You could not help the explosion of blush that spanned from your cheeks to your neck. Quickly gathering your items, you tried to hide from the blond. What has gotten into you? What had provoked such intimate thoughts?

Were you…

Developing a crush?

Nonsense, Toshinori was simply a friend of yours. A friend that you enjoyed spending time with, a friend that did not judge you, a friend that had your palms feeling sweaty and your head airy with just a smile. A friend that you had just wondered if their hair was soft or if they looked at you in a special way… Yeah, just a friend.

Your body betrayed your mind on the walk back to your house. Just like at the coffee shop you found yourself standing closer than usual, absentmindedly seeking him out. Never close enough to accidentally touch, but if either of you wanted to you could easily reach out. Almost but not quite. If he noticed he said nothing, allowing you to walk as close or as far as you wanted.

 When the walk came to a close and he turned to leave, you could not help but reach for him. Toshinori was shocked, your hand was gripping his white sleeve. Unsure of what to say he turned back to face you, head leaned slightly down to study your expression. Wanting to question if you were alright, if there was something wrong, however the words never came to fruition. Eyes locked together in a silent stalemate you felt alive, energetic even, in a bold and impulsive  move you sent yourself forward. Arms outstretched, to embrace the lean man with your head crashing against his chest.

Body overcoming the mind. 

Time felt stagnant in that moment, despite his initial shock his own body took charge, as his longer arms fell around your waist bringing you closer. Craning his neck down to rest atop your head to fully envelope you. He reciprocated the physical affection full heartedly. The scent of your perfume and shampoo nuzzling his senses once again. Oh how he had missed it, the scarf you lent him weeks ago had long since lost the scent. The softness of your hair, the way you fit so perfectly against him, and the overwhelming sense of tranquility was intoxicating.

Hugs did not have to be inherently romantic, as he hugged his adoring fans frequently but this time it felt different. Intimate. Harmonious.

The two remained silent, reveling in the warmth that grew between your met bodies. Emotions ran rampant yet neither felt embarrassed.  

Lifting your heads, eyes again looked into each other, the emotional doors were clearly open for the other to see. Longing, want, and adoration swam in both sets. The distance between slowly decreased, eyes still open, never detaching. No thoughts, only actions.

You both wanted more, to stand with the other a little longer, to allow the space between to completely close. However a buzz from his phone signaled the moment was over. Realizing the situation you both pulled away, faces a glaze and radiating heat. Neither one made apologies, however the air felt bogged down with words unspoken. Closing his eyes he sighed. Relaxing a bit before opening them again he looked back down to you with a smile, cheeks still rosy.

“Goodnight (y/n)” 

“Goodnight Toshi.” Returning the grin you turned on your heels and headed up the driveway. The same guilty feeling from the first night returned. 

Your relationship had changed forever that night.

Was this a good change? You were not sure, but one thing was for certain,  it felt right and You wanted more. Of all the people that bowed at your feet, drooled at your magazine covers and begged for your affection, the one that managed to catch your attention was a quiet man shrouded in mystery and clothing three times his size from the office. 

‘What the hell am I getting myself into?’

That night Toshinori sat atop a roof, peering over the city. He should’ve called it a night long ago however, his mind was in disarray with thoughts. 

‘What am I doing with her?’ 

All the hours of sitting inside your office he had convinced himself he purly wanted a friendship. Just someone to occasionally talk with to quench his selfish need for human interaction. All these feelings were out of concern for a friend, simply being nice. However after tonight his resolve was faltering. Maybe the hug was out of solace, a way for you to find comfort after a rough week. Possibly. However the more he reminisced on his own feelings and the way you looked at him had that solution increasingly incorrect. He recognized the eyes of someone enamored, people looked to him with such eyes daily in his Mighty form daily but, never as his weak regular self. 

The feelings he had not even realized he suppressed bursted out of him. He could deny them no longer. He wanted to be more than a friend with you. But, could he allow himself that? Could he really go through with this? 

Back on patrol you finally felt like your old self again, fully healed and ready to be back in on the action. Taking the information you had gathered from the thugs you set your sights on getting to the bottom of this rabbit hole. The men were simple guards, goons, middle of the food chain. What you wanted was their employer, the top. Based on the information they’d spilled and the matching tattoos on their bodies you were clearly dealing with a deep rooted ring. Well-established and on the rise if they could afford to hire people with half decent quirks and fighting skills. Not to mention this would be the third established branch you’d snuffed out. One man kept mentioning an abandoned building, that must’ve been their headquarters, with a distinctive graffitied symbol the same as their tattoos on the door. Walking down the damp alleyways closer to where you apprehended the suspects you stuck close to the walls and quieted your footsteps. Scoping out the building you find five men standing post outside. 

‘Must’ve stirred the hornet's nest’ you thought. This could be difficult. You had to be strategic about this, fighting five on one was not optimal. As a licensed hero you could not engage unless they were actively committing a crime. Just had to find evidence of illegal activity and another way in. A broken window on the second floor gave you an opening.

Controlling the frequency of your voice you produced an infrasonic sound wave to propel you onto a nearby building. The pitch was far too low for the natural human ear to pick up. Latching onto the wall you waited for the men to turn their backs, just for a second then strategically propelled yourself again, gliding through the air, you aimed yourself for the window. Successfully landing within the confines of the building with a light thud. Sweeping a look at your surroundings you analyzed the situation, luckily no one was on the floor. Hearing loud thumps race up the stairwell you darted out of sight.

“I heard something. Didn’t you?” Two more men emerged, taking a quick profile of them. You determined one was young, far too young to be in a place like this, while the other was far older, perhaps a mentor of some kind. You calmed yourself, huddling closer to the stacks of boxes you took shelter behind.

“Stupid boy, there is nothing here.” The older man swung on the boy, a solid smack to the back of his head had him stumbling forward. Landing right beside your hiding place his face lifted from the creaking wood floor. For a brief second the two of you made eye contact. Wild eyes widening in fear and mouth agape ready to scream you thought on your feet. Breathed in, focusing on the boy you whispered a command.

“Quietly leave” 

The sound waves penetrated his ears as it was made only for them. His mouth shut and eyes glazed over devoid of emotion. In a fugue state he stood up, turned to the older man without acknowledgment and began walking back down the stairs. 

This was your special move, how you got the name Siren in the first place. ‘The command’ as you dubbed it could only be heard by its intended target as you directed the waves directly through their canals forcing their eardrums to verberate. As long as the frequency of the pitch was just right and the subject could understand your words their mind felt compelled to follow. A hypnotized state. Your ultimate trump card to get out of any sticky situation. Though you always paid the price with each use. Your throat felt raw and scratchy. Sighing you pulled out a small bottle of spray from your utility pouch and coated your throat. The medication managed to subdue the burn for now.

Moving down the stairs, the room before you confirmed the suspicion. Tables piled high with stacks of wrapped substances, presumably drugs, with several men including the two from before taking from the stacks to packaging them into small shipping containers and stacking them onto a pallet. Several guards watching the men work, occasional barking orders with threats of punishment should they not comply.

You had to find a way to take them out without destroying too much of the evidence. With the state of your throat it wouldn’t be possible to unleash a full screech without ending up like last time. Knowing this could get sticky you clicked the side of your ear piece. A signal was sent out to other members of the agency. 

All Might’s phone buzzed, looking down to the small device his thick eyebrows furrowed, causing deep creases to shadow over his gaze. 

‘Siren - Stand By - Location Attached. Video Attached’

This was a non-emergency broadcast, a precaution set in place as a ‘just in case’. It was not uncommon for his contracted heroes to send signals like this, in fact it was promoted, should the situation get out of hand back up already had been alerted. However, seeing the signal from you put a bad taste in his mouth. His intuition bell rang. All complicated feelings aside, given your recent accident and being fresh off of recovery, he chose to make his way over.

He’s thankful he did.

The dilapidated building arose with commotion, bursts of flames spewed from the doorway and thunderous yells echoed into the alleyway. Bullets flew freely and ricocheted off the brick.

Unfortunately, you had only managed to take out four guards before being spotted, the ensuing firefight had you pinned against a wall for cover. The workers with heads ducked down and looks of pure terror had scrambled to escape once the battle began. The last guard inside possessed a pyro quirk. His haphazardly thrown fireballs had the shabby wooden wall you hid behind beginning to crumble. Seeing as though most of the evidence was burning to ashes a sound wave could help extinguish and knock out the man. Just had to time it in between attacks and be wary not to over do it again.

Capering out from behind the wall you took in a deep gulp of air, full of ash from the fire the air burned your lungs. Your mouth opened, and a haunting screech howled through the air. The fires extinguished and the man was sent flying through the front door. 

Still cautious of the guards outside you carefully peaked around the doorframe, only to find all five bound together. The man who you’d successfully blasted lay in a groaning heap before them. His head surly buzzed as earrings rang. Stepping outside, the sun had begun dipping below the towering building painting the sky a muted marmalade. Sweeping the area your breath caught in the back of your throat in a gasp despite the ever-growing pain.

All Might stood before you, his smile wide across his chiseled face as he tied the final knot around the men.  The remaining sunlight streaked out from the space between buildings painting the already vibrant man in a brilliance of light. “I’ve dispatched these evil doers. How many more are inside?”

In all the months you had been working at his agency you had yet to meet the man himself. To finally meet him in response to your direct signal had you giddy and awe-inspired. All Might rose to fame while you were in your late teens. You had watched him even in his early days in America as he swiftly became the world's number one hero. A true hero. Your hero. He was who pushed you to try harder in your early years. Through the toughest courses as UA to the years of side kicking he made you truly strive for the top. To push yourself above and beyond ‘Plus Ultra’! 

“All men inside are taken care of” Pushing past the burn in your throat you swallowed back your saliva and mustered a reply through strained vocal cords. 

“Great work Siren! I’ve already alerted the authorities. They should be here soon.” Together the two of you drug out the rest of the thugs from inside. 

Paparazzi, reporters and fans gathered at the alleyway entrance, curious to get a glimpse of the action. With any heroic arrest or commotion they flocked. However, with All Might making an appearance they came in droves. A police barricade pushed the swarm back however sooner or later you’d have to entertain them. 

A million cameras flashed and a thousand questions asked as the two heroes stood together taking the brunt of the media assault. Both you and All Might gave short brief answers to the first few questions until a woman holding a giant lensed camera pushed herself to the front announcing she was from The Musutaful Times, the most prestigious paper around, and would like a photo. 

“Of course!” Before you could think, All Might's muscular arm draped around your shoulders and pulled you against his hulking body. His smile widened and his opposite hand's thumb stuck out. He stole a glance down at you, through your mask you looked at him. Seering cerulean blue locked onto you, even with the barrier it felt as though he could look through it. The moment lasted less than a second, yet it sent a shiver down your spine with a heatwave of blush rushing across your cheeks. A lopsided smile stretched across your own face as the camera flashed. 

In the blinding blitz of it all you had failed to realize the fire-quirked villain had burned through his rope restraints. The rest of his gang had already been loaded up into cars leaving him the last one standing.

“You’ve ruined everything!” In a fit of retaliation, he summoned a blazing ball of fire and launched it directly at you. Quick on your feet you attempted to dodge the attack aimed at your head, however the smoldering projectile managed to graze over your face. Scorching your mask. Shaking off the initial attack you readied yourself to attack. A loud smash and burst of dusty air signaled the fight was once again over. All Might had stopped it, but what he could not stop was the flash of the cameras and the shocked gasps from the crowd as your mask fell into melted pieces. Your face was on full display. Horrified you backed away, terrified of the once adoring crowd. 

“Come on” Strong arms grabbed you from behind. In an instant the ground fell away and became distant.

[itsnotamatterofif]

YEEEEEESSS I live for steamer/freight family. Slick is very definitely the rogue sibling that no one can control but they don’t half worry about. Have a little scene between her and Rusty

✨Want a stex mini fic? Send me an ask!✨

Once again, Slick is in a ditch.

It's not even a nice ditch. Usually when she's pissed off an engine enough to be thrown off the train she's left at a station or a delivery yard, but being ditched in the middle of track following a scam on a particularly cantankerous engine isn't exactly uncommon. At least this ditch is pretty close to a town, so she should be able to hang on the back of a passerby without a problem, but it's just annoying; she was this close to taking a good bet from him about a race she'd rigged for next week, and if he hadn't recognised her at the last minute she would have been a hundred and fifty pounds richer.

With a huff, she squats near the tracks, scuffing  at the rocks and pebbles with the brake plate of her boots. She'd probably be home in the next ten minutes if that fucker hadn't gotten all grumpy about it, but now she's stuck here, reading the graffiti that lines the walls of the bridge up ahead. If she was a bit more daring, she could probably attempt to make it home herself, but someone finding her passed out on the tracks is infinitely more embarrassing than actually having to ask for a lift, so in her spot she stays. Thankfully it's a nice day, and it's not raining as long as that grey looking cloud stays where it is, so the waiting game it is.

Within five minutes she's bored of looking at clouds, and within ten she's bored of kicking her feet in the rocks. It's not like this is a quiet line, quite the opposite usually, but apparently Sunday timetables have decided to kick her ass today. There's a faint sound in the distance, a reverberation along the rails, but it seems far off as Slick sits uncomfortably on the pebbled floor with a grumble.

The rumble gets louder, the rails clattering slightly, and Slick perks up. Sounds like whoever it is is going fast, but that shouldn't be a problem, she's had plenty of years experience of jumping at the right moment to cling onto the back of whoever is going past. Hopefully it's a diesel, hopefully it's not Greaseball-

As the engine gets closer, the sound changes. Rhythmic in its movement with distinct push and pull, Slick feels whatever hope she had drain away as she looks out to the eastwards track and sees a plume of steam shooting up over the treetops. It's ain't Momma, that's for sure - she hardly ever leaves the yard these days - and as the distinct scream of a whistle echoes across the tracks, she rolls her eyes and kicks the dirt again.

Of course, it had to be Rusty.

There's no time to hide as he turns the corner onto the straight that she's stuck on, hurtling along the track whilst Slick prepares for the inevitable one hundred questions he's going to ask. Looks to be just him today, no coaches or trucks trailing behind him; it's almost strange to see him without Porter at the very least, as if he looks top heavy or slightly unbalanced with just his own bunker, but she's sure there's a good reason. Rusty is one of those people who has an excuse for everything no matter the situation, which pisses her off to no end.

By the time Rusty spots her and slams on the breaks, it's too late for him to stop in front of her, stuck on the side of the tracks as he hurtles past with a screech. The heavy sound of pistons and blazing fire kicks up as his wheels slowly spin backwards, almost painfully slow as he rolls back to her; it's kind of funny in a way, watching him try and reverse when she knows just how much effort it takes for him to get started once he's stopped, but it doesn't seem to bring him down. As she folds her arms and rolls her eyes impatiently, Rusty finally stops within reach, apologetic smile etched on his face as he reaches to let out a billow of steam awkwardly.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Slick," he says, voice laced with surprise, "I thought you were on shift with that visiting diesel, what happened?"

"Pissed him off," she answers brashly, huffing out an annoyed breath, "apparently he couldn't stand the sight of me for ten more minutes just to get me home, so the asshole uncoupled."

It's not the whole truth, and she knows Rusty knows that from the slight raise of his eyebrow as he purses his lips in thought.

"Well, you ought to hop on then." He straightens his back, scooting forwards slightly so that she can hitch up. "I'm heading back to the yard, if you can cope with being stuck to a steamer, that is."

He sticks his tongue out in jest as Slick rolls her eyes and clambers back onto the tracks.

"Good fuckin' thing it's only for ten minutes then," she argues, rolling her eyes again - riding with Rusty is never ideal, she hates the stink of coal smoke and ash that settles into her armour when she gets stuck on a train with him, but right now it's either hitch up or sit down. It barely takes a minute before the sound of Rusty's pistons pumping echos along the track again, and, albeit very slowly, they're away.

"So, what did you do this time?" Rusty asks after a minute or so of awkward silence, "insurance fraud? Revenge hit-?"

"None of your fuckin' business," Slick snaps back, and annoyingly she knows the exact expression of mock surprise that Rusty is wearing without seeing his face.

"Just thought I'd ask in case-"

"Well don't," she hisses, and crouches to hide behind him slightly as a bigger train speeds past, "what are you doing out on your own?"

"Orange Flash broke down at Leamington, so Control asked me to take the repair truck over since I didn't have anything scheduled for today," Rusty explains easily, no hint of any frustration found which frustrates Slick in turn, "dropped them off about an hour ago, and then they can ride home with Flash once they're fixed - good thing I took the job, how else were you planning to get home?"

He says that like there was a chance he wasn't going to accept the run, which makes Slick frown a bit in thought; it's no secret to anyone that Rusty has been getting less and less jobs following some new financial directive putting more focus on the newer diesels, and his frame is looking distinctly worse for wear in the gloomy afternoon sun, whole flakes of rust visible from where she can see. It must be painful, judging from how much Momma complains about it when she hasn't been cleaned for weeks, but if it is, Rusty doesn't say anything.

"Dunno," she answers as Rusty draws to another stop at a set of signals up ahead, "I'm pretty good at hitchhiking-"

Rusty hums, equal parts concerned and unimpressed. "That's dangerous, Slick, what if you missed and got hurt or the engine threw you off?"

"Hasn't happened yet," she grumbles - she’s a really on a short fuse from being dumped, if Rusty wants tell her how to live her life he can shove it, "I can handle myself - I don't need a second Momma, Rusty, I knew I'd get a godamn lecture from you-"

The lights flick green, and Rusty shrinks away, shoulders hunching slightly as his pistons begin to push; if they were face to face he probably would be walking away by now, Rusty’s not one for blow-up arguments with her.

“I know,” he mutters, barely audible over the hissing of his engine, “I just worry about you sometimes.”

She clicks her tongue, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “Then don’t.”

“Trust me, I try not to,” he argues back, and there’s a sudden bit of fire in his voice that she wasn’t expecting - Rusty stopped arguing with her a long time ago, having learned any argument with her was a lost cause, but apparently picked today to break the habit, “I’d rather not think about you mangled somewhere because you’ve pissed off the wrong engines, but at least, I dunno’, let someone know if you’re planning on pissing someone off on the rails? Even if it’s not me, either Lumber or Porter, then if something goes wrong they can get help for you-“

“Control would have sent someone out eventually, Rusty, chill-“

“What if they didn’t, though, or you were hurt?” There’s a distinct clack of his jaw snapping shut, steel hitting steel as he squares his jaw in frustration. “I ain’t trying to be Momma, she’d tell you to stop fuckin’ about completely, I just think if the folks you target can dump you in the middle of the tracks without a concern, what else would they be happy to do once they find what you’ve planned for them?”

She doesn’t have an answer for that.

The yard station looms before them as Rusty pulls into one of the side sheds, the one nearest the freight yard. Blessedly, it’s empty, and as Rusty slows to a stop, Slick can’t help but jump off the tracks as soon as possible.

Reaching round to a small pouch on her external tank, she pulls out a few notes, shifting through them as Rusty sorts himself out and chills his firebox back out for resting.

“Oi, steamer,” she calls - why is she nervous about this? - as Rusty’s head snaps around, “next time you’re in Birmingham, take this to a maintenance engineer called Amal, he’ll get you cleaned up.”

Rusty’s eyes widen for a second as he wheels over, looking between her and the pound notes. “I’m- I’m fine, Control said they’re getting someone in next quarter-“

“And you know as well as I do that that skimping bastard isn’t maintaining you and Momma anymore,” Slick interrupts, grabbing his hand to stuff the notes into whether he wants them or not, “you’re on a freight run on Saturday, right? Ask him then, before your creaking gets bad enough to wake the whole yard up.”

As Rusty’s hand closes around the notes reluctantly, she spins on her break plate. Rusty’s a sentimental bastard at the best of times, if he starts trying to give the cash back or thanking her for it she might just lose it again. Behind her, she can already hear Rusty stammering, and can’t help but laugh slightly at his predictability.

Maybe she’ll just let him know next time she tries something big.

[aspiring-house-husband]

i have been convinced.

grade-A star wars uh… smut? there’s definitely porn in here. there’s also discussions of the force and what light and dark mean. also playing at the boundary of identity death. what would it be like to fuck someone you have a psychic connection with? tune in to see my take.

uh. yeah, enjoy!

~~~

your master told you the dark side was seductive. you had assumed you knew what that meant. 

either there was the metaphorical way all stuffy old masters talk—that it would be powerful and all too easy to slide into—or it would be literal. you were sure sith were not above back-of-the-bar tricks. 

this was something else entirely. 

you can’t really remember how you woke up here. you know there was a sith, and the battle went badly… but after that there’s nothing. all you know is waking up in a comfortable bed, in a bright home carved into a white stone cave. there is water at your bedside and a change of clothes to help rid you of the smell of blood and dirt. all the wounds you remember receiving are gone. simmering not far from your bedside is a delicious smelling soup, and it reminds you just how hungry you are. 

you change and hydrate, you eat. all the while, you reach out into the force. it’s… dark, here. but not malicious, not prickly. you aren’t in the home of some recluse jedi or friendly native. no, this is the home of the sith.

you find your saber at your bedside and tread carefully to the front door. the view outside is frustratingly astonishing, a banister keeping you from a vista of waterfalls and gently soaring birds. he leans against the railing facing away from you, unarmed, unconcerned. 

in an instant your bicep is around his neck and your saber at his side. 

“sith,” you snarl, and he grasps onto your arm. his touch is warm. 

“good morning, jedi,” he says, but without venom in his voice. he does not struggle. 

“why did you bring me here?” you demand, gripping tight to your own shoulder so that you could choke him if needed. his musculature is smooth. 

“you were hurt,” he says, one finger lazily sliding over your skin, soft and sensual. “why wouldn’t i?”

“you’re a sith,” you respond, your training not allowing any doubt for his nonchalance, nor his warmth. “we are at war.”

“i’m no sith,” he says, and startlingly, you feel his presence… reach out to you. he extends you an invitation, a thread to tie you to him. a connection. 

you shake him off. 

“you killed jedi. you wield red. you’re a sith.”

“not so simple,” he says, shuffling his shoulders as though getting more comfortable in your embrace. “dark is not evil. light is not good.” without warning, he ducks from your grasp, but clutches onto your saber, keeping the tip of the hilt pressed firmly to his sternum. 

“do it, jedi. if you’re so sure i’m sith, i’m dark, light your blade. do your duty. kill me.”

he might say it, but he reaches out to you again. he extends a hand in the force, and he looks at you with kindness, confidence. he does not probe at nor invade your mind, does not enter forcefully. he opens himself to you, rather, to explore if you so wish. 

with the weight of your body you pin him to the bannister, sharp metal of your unlit lightsaber hilt still pressing into his sternum, his strong fingers still curled around your wrist, keeping you there. your free hand pushes his shoulder away from you, while his holds your hips close. 

it is not seduction. he does not flirt or simper. he does not offer power or strength. he offers vulnerability. a satisfaction of curiosity. he shows himself willing to share and be shared, and with your fingers still tight around your saber, you dive in.  

freedom, that is what you taste. not wrath or pride, not power or strength. freedom. to be as you are. to guide parts of yourself yet unknown to the light side of the force. to balance things suppressed. to follow your own path and blaze it, if you must. 

his knee comes between your legs as he explores your mind the same. 

he is, himself, a touch more wrathful than the dark you experienced through him. he is pained and lost, but piecing his path together. he wants a companion as he does so. he wants freedom from chains bound upon his desire. 

his forehead drops to your shoulder as he bathes in your light, breathing ragged. he pulls your saber ever further into the vulnerable softness of his sternum, still keeping you close by the hips. 

you can hardly hear the waterfalls over the blood roaring in your ears. satisfaction, back and forth between you. his love of the light and the righteousness, your satisfaction in his kindness, his glowing under your desire, your weightlessness with his path. you understand, suddenly, why master and padawan cut their bond when the padawan becomes an adult. it’s far too pleasurable to be linked to someone, let alone someone so close, someone so dear. far too passionate. 

you slide your hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, then head, and ground yourself with a grip into his hair. you breath hard against his ear, so he lifts his face to press his cheek and temple against yours. 

“kill me, jedi,” he says again, but now a whisper, a plea not unlike a lover begging for a touch, his lips flickering across the skin beneath your ear. “let me taste freedom. let me be unchained.”

“there are no chains,” you answer, opening your fingers around your saber. he releases your hips so that your bodies part for the weapon to fall from between you, and you both surge together again. you hold to each other as though you’d fall if you didn’t, nothing hidden, everything pressed to one another. 

“the jedi teach balance, but they never showed me this,” you whisper, nearly sorrowful. “this is not evil.”

“evil,” he laughs, mournful, his words hollow as if by tears. “evil is what you call what you are threatened by.”

threatened by this? you couldn’t imagine. how could this be anything but beautiful? this freedom, this possibility. this connection, deeper than anything you’d ever felt. the knowledge that you could take a step in any direction. 

including toward him. 

your arms go around him tighter, your thighs tensing. he walks you back to the smooth stone wall before the entrance of the cave, pressing you to the cold stone, still his body against yours. through your bond you could almost feel how your body feels, but through him, his sensations. he shivers as though feeling the cold of the stone on your back, and wraps you up tighter. 

you kiss softly against his shoulder at the crook of his neck, and feel the ghost of the sensation at your own neck. equally you can feel on your own thigh the way he presses his further between yours, grinding just so against you. every sensation of his is yours, the pleasurable friction of your thigh against him, your hand in his hair. you know he must feel what he does to you just the same. 

the force swirls around you, immeasurable, heavy. you feel it in a way you never have before, marbled between light and dark and mixing the two. he keeps you present with his wandering hands, touching all there is of you to be touched. he feels desire, yes, even lust, but not as a predator or animal. as a partner. 

finally, you pull his hair to lift his head from your shoulder, and you kiss him. 

it’s clumsy at first, sensations confusing between his motions and yours. it’s a terrible knot to untangle what he does to you and what you feel from him, the actions mismatching. but you press yourself to him further anyway, gripping onto him and fighting to keep your balance in the swirling light and dark. finally, though, you let it sweep you off your feet, and as you trust in it you find it so natural, so easy to follow along. his hands slide down to your waist, your hips, and he desperately pulls you close to him. you gasp out of the kiss the same as he when the feeling of your warmth on his member spark between you. 

frantically you chase that sensation, grinding your thighs together, connecting however you can, and you find yourself desperate for more. you press your forehead to his, and you hardly have to think the word to feel him agree, but you say it out loud nonetheless. 

“inside.” he nods and the both of you stumble through the door, still holding to each other and breathing hard and touching, but eventually he lands on top of you on the bed. he goes about stripping you of your pants and you pull at your own shirt until you’re bare before him, and the fondness you feel through your bond from him at the sight of you does nothing to slow your desire. you slide your hands beneath his shirt, resting for a moment on the smooth skin, before pulling it over his head. 

you can’t help but pause, scooting closer to pull his still-clothed hips between your thighs. you press a kiss to his chest as you slide your hands up his back, and he grasps your face in his palms to pull you up again into a kiss. it’s easier this time, to find your place in it. it’s slower, this time, more secure. you sigh into it and let him gently lower you to your back, your legs still around his waist. 

with your thighs and heels you attempt to push his waistband down without releasing your hands from his back and your lips from his, but frustratingly it doesn’t move. you try again, this time with the force, and he steps out of his clothes as they are pulled away from him and flung across the room. 

you both freeze like it’s the first time you’ve ever been touched when you finally come together with nothing separating you. you are warm against him, and he is sensitive, and it’s overwhelming. he is firm against you, throbbing, and you know he feels it too. 

“luminous,” he says with a laugh, and you pull him down on top of you. you feel as one in the force, luminous as he said, minds blurring and sharing like two bodies of the same consciousness. you lose distinction, border, him and you the same, even as he pulls himself up again. you look down on your body from his eyes and shift his hips to draw his cock across yours, sparking pleasure between the two of you, without separation of who feels it where. you feel him, in your body, buck up against you and drop your thighs open. he slides his cock ever firmer against you, you gasp at the tease of his tip at your entrance, both from the prod and the catch, two sides of the same sensation. your legs lift to bind around his waist and all the same you fight to push his hips toward you, from his body and yours. 

even as your bodies shared, there had been distinction of the mind. when he slides inside you, even that disappears. 

there is only the two of you as one. his body, yours, shared as one being. both of you thrust deeper and deeper and with greater speed, both of you grasp onto his body and buck your hips and clench down around him inside you. you both whimper and moan from both mouths, both feel your back dragging across the sheets and his knees pressing down into them. it is luminous in a way you never thought you’d understand. it is total humility and pride the same, sharing, melding, relinquishing identity and consuming it. 

both feel your orgasm building. it’s in your thighs, trembling and locked around his waist. it’s in his stomach as you thrust. it’s in your chest as you choke on the pleasure. it’s in every bit of both your bodies, overwhelming you until something snaps and you cum, more then together, more than synchronously. it is one orgasm, one pleasure, one mind, one body. 

his body collapses onto yours, whoever allows it to fall. the flesh breathes in tandem, and there isn’t still two minds. you’re not even sure which one you are, anymore. which body you belong to. they feel the same, the weight of one on top of the other, the sensation of one buried inside the other. you think in tandem. the voice in your mind is not his nor yours, it simply is, and it is both. 

it hopes, for sake of ease alone, that when you wake up, you can tell each other apart again. but equally it hopes never to lose just how blended you are. 

[simp2537]

Moon Helios

a/n: My god did I take forever to make this chapter. Whoopsies. Anyway this is the last chapter till the actual plot. I’m so excited to write the actual plot now. Lots of triggers in this so READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

꓄ꃅꀤꌗ ꎇꂦꈤ꓄ ꀤꌗ ꎇꀭꍟꋪꀸꍏꈤ

Word Count: 3.461k

Series trigger warnings:Child abuse, anxiety, religious trauma, racism, manipulation, division of canon, Alina hate?, trauma, ptsd, bullying, insomnia, self-neglect, mental health issues, guilt tripping, cult theme, blood consumption, cannibalism?? Lost of murder, talks of SA in other characters, S/A, Sexual acts, future smut, predatory behavior(not from Aleks) and all other shadow and bone stuff

Act I : A Helios is Born

Chapter Six

The wind whipped furiously around the sanctuary. The banners marked by a raging sun blazing across the silks. It was cold, it’d been fair to cold. 

As Y/n’s grey eyes trailed over the younger Helios in trainings, the blinding ceremony had just commenced. They were clumsy as tripping over their own feet. 

You never really knew how much you needed your eyes till they were gone. Although sight allowed one to see again it wasn’t the same. Colors were dulled, lights were less. 

“Enjoying the snow?” Egons voice came from behind her. She didn’t turn to him as he went to her side. His large hands pressed again the railing. 

Maja growled softly from where she sat. The snow dressed her coat, almost blending in. She didn’t like Egon, she’d almost bit his fingers more times than Y/n could count. 

“No.” Egon couldn’t help but frown. Her answers had been short and never in full sentences anymore. That silver comb was  laced in her hair by Isla no matter what she was doing.

“Ready for the ceremony?” She didn’t answer just turned away. Her armor was cold, the metals almost froze in the snow. Her cape, long and lined with wool danced behind her. 

“꒒ꀤꈤꃅꂦ꒒ꂵꍟꋪꋪꍟ, be ready for your ceremony.” He urged her. Her hands went to her neck, pulling off her collar. She held it out for him to take.

“I’m not permitted this.” Egon gently took her armor. She was right, in the trial the children would be allows one dagger as there weapon. 

His eyes fell on her smaller frame. As she moved inside he watched her. He watched Maja and his ꒒ꀤꈤꃅꂦ꒒ꂵꍟꋪꋪꍟ disappear into the sanctuary.

In truth he worried, there was the small chance she would never survive this. It was a fight to death after all. 44 in training, only 22 would survive. 

He held confidence in her, she was trained by his hand. But her opponent would not be one she would be able to kill, he knew that well enough.

It was warm in the arena. The sand was heated slightly by one of the Inferni whom had kept their powers. Y/n stood, digging her feet in. 

If she was to die then she didn’t mind it to be her. She was the last ceremony of the night. Everyone who survived had killed a friend tonight. In turn they had regained their eyes.

Would Alina be able to live with her death. Mal had answered her letter, he and Alina were well. Underfed but well. The guilt festered deep within her. While her sister and best friend were underfed she slept on a full stomach overnight. 

Alina, she missed her sister’s dark eyes. The tree bark colored eyes were just brought enough to tell where the irises stoped and pupil began. How Alina’s thick locks would blows gently in the breeze. She missed Alina…. But did Alina miss her as much.

“Announcing Y/n Starkov, ward of Egon Waldow.” Aratha’s voice was mellow. Y/n supposed so many years of conducting these fights would do that to a woman.

“And Isla… Isla Vernio, ward of Egon Waldow.” Y/n froze, her blood going cold. Slowly Isla’s blurred frame came into her sight. 

Isla.

Why was Isla in the arena with her. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Niko had checked. 

She was supposed to kill a random boy, Avich or something. It been easy to kill Avich, he was weak hearted. To kind for his own good, not bad with a sword but horrible with a dagger

“ӄɛɮɮɛռ ready!” Aratha yelled. Y/n couldn’t move. Isla moved into her stance. Her breathing picked up as she dropped her knife. It hit the sand, not a sound echoed around her.

“No… wait !” Y/n uttered finding her voice but from above Kanos nodded his head. 

“FIGHT!”

In seconds Isla was charging towards her. Isla’s blue knife sliced through the air as Y/n dodged. 

“Isla!” Y/n yelled as her friend attacked her relentlessly. Isla was quick, always had been. Her vibrations were all over the place, it made it hard for Y/n to track her.

Y/n began to move around, turning and dodging very moved Isla made. 

“ISLA! STOP!” Isla’s movements became sloppy, frazzled. 

Y/n caught her friend’s arm, twisting it and pushing the knife out of her hand. Isla slammed her head back and Y/n backed away. 

“Isla stop this! I’m not going to fight you.” Y/n could keep the quiver from her voice. Not this. She couldn’t do this.

She could softly hear Niko’s voice screaming. Niko was alive? Had he lied to her? Of course he’d lied to her. Her mind raced as she went through everything.

Maybe Niko had never been her friend. Only tried to gain her trust in order to get her killed. Maybe it was all a lie. Everything was a lie.

Before she could realize her back was against the sand. Isla’s knife inches from her face. Isla’s knife was in her face.

“Isla…”

As the knife inched closer to her throat she couldn’t see anything. Her vision was turning colors. Her hand moved before she could stop it.

GRAB THE BLADE! 

DRIVE IT INTO HER CHEST!

She felt the cold metal dig into her skin and then it was gone. The sound of flesh being pierced echoed through her mind. The choking on blood invaded Y/n’s ears as she caught Isla. 

“No no no no no no no!” Y/n repeat as she clung to Isla. The tears burned down her skin as she sobbed.

Isla clung onto her arm as she choked. Y/n looked up at the perch. Her eyes filled with terror as all the blood began to soak her. 

Egon wasn’t there.

He was supposed to watch all the fights.

Kanos stared down at her, eyes blank as she stared up at him. His eyes…  were those tears. 

Kanos never cried, he couldn’t. What had he done that he was crying?

……………………

…………………………

……………………………….

He couldn’t have? Could he?

The moon moved over the arena as Isla shook Y/n. Her eyes slowly moved down as she sobbed. Isla’s eyes were dulled and she could see. All the colors, everything was so vibrant.

Y/n’s eyes began to dart around as she saw everything. Isla’s blood was a deep crimson and it soaked through her ceremonial clothes. 

Isla’s vibrations were slowed, almost gone. 

Her hands moved slowly, covered in her own blood. 

“Burry me with the roses so I’ll always be pretty but I’ll always have my thorns.” 

Y/n held her face as she watched the lights in her chocolate eyes left. Her beautiful chocolate eyes were now visible her. Her soft skin lost its warmth, leaving not a trace of life. Y/n felt her breath stop. Her eyes stared down at the blood in her hands.

She could feel herself shake, she could feel her own vibration were everywhere. She could hear her surviving trainees screaming yelling. 

She could hear Egon yelling faintly. She could hear everything faintly. The ringing in her ears grew louder as she held onto Isla. It became so bright as her own screams entered her ears. 

Her scream didn’t sound like hers. Her screams sounded like something else. Like the screams of the volcra or ʊռʊɖɛǟɖֆ. Or the wailing of a banshee. It was so bright, there was light all around her. She left a pair of arms around her as she screamed.

The light only grew as she screamed and then…………..

Nothing, just black.

There was too much snow, the pale pink roses were covered in frost. The dug up ground covered in snow. Niko’s bright crystal eyes stared over at her. 

She was knelt down tying the blue ribbon to the post. A large sun at the top of the wood. In her hands she held tightly into Isla’s collar. 

As per tradition the winner of the fight would take the dead’s collar. Melt it down and add it onto your own armor as a sign of respect for the dead. But Y/n had left the grave in three days.

She merely sat in the snow covered ground still in her bloody clothes. Her hair was become dirty. The bloody was racked under nails. Her own collar had not yet been given back to her. Egon knew she would be far to dangerous with her armor at the moment. 

Niko stood behind her, his crystal blues full of unreleased tears. Rosica stood to his left, her blonde locks flowing in the breeze while Zan stood on his right, his arms crossed. 

“She hasn’t left her grave.” Niko whispered as the snow whipped around them. Zan sighed gently, looking over at Rosica. The emerald eyes girl nodded her head as she gripped into Niko’s arm.

“Niko, I’ll take her for a walk or something. Clear her mind.” Niko scoffed softly. Y/n would not move from the grave. Her body was too weak, it was by the saints grace she didn’t have frostbite yet.

“And do tell me how you’ll move her?” Niko snapped his cloak blowing in the wind. Rosica smiled gently as she held onto his face. She leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“Don’t worry about it, I have an idea.”  She pulled away from him keeling down next to the unmoving girl. She pushed away some of Y/n’s h/c hair and leaned down in her ear.

“I was think of getting some winter roses for the grave. Isla would like those wouldn’t she.” Y/n’s dead gaze slowly tracked to the girl at her side. With a slight nod the blonde pulled Y/n to her feet.

Niko’s eyes widened at the sight and moved over to her. His arms found there way around her form. She seemed so small now. Her fire was gone now, not even a spark left. 

He pulled his cloak off, wrapping the material around his shaking form. Rosica’s eyes faltered and she shot her gaze over to Zan. His eyes did not meet hers as she moved back to Y/n.

“There’s some flowers at the border, come.” She whispered in the emotionless girls ear. Rosica attempted to lock her hands in Y/n’s but Y/n pulled her hand out of the other’s grasp. Rosica smiled softly at her as she watch the dirty girl curl around herself.

Her brain was blank yet so many thoughts raced all at once. This had to be false. Isla wasn’t dead, she was simply sleeping somewhere. Or hiding away from her. 

Maybe this was all another test for her. But Y/n’s mind kept pulling her back to the blood. She never been covered in so much blood.

With Ville it was different, she still wasn’t sure if she loved him. Did she love him? Or had she been so convincing in her own lie she had known.

He was kind, and strange in a way. His face had been etched into her memory. The way he stared up at her had been different. He stared up at her with love in his eyes. Even as his blood began to cover them his held the same expression.

Isla didn’t.

Was it fear that she felt in her final moments? Did she fear her when she died.?

Did Isla fear herself in her final moments.

“Look at all the roses.” The blondes words brought her from her thoughts for a moment. She turned to the pale and frost covered roses. They bordered on a lake that was partially frozen over. She brought her tired legs over to the edge of the pond.

Her knees hit the snow covered ground without a sound. Rosica stood over her as she dug the flowers out of the ground. The weak and cold dirt caked under her nails as she pushed the earth away. The blondes eyes darkened as she stared down at Y/n

She never been cruel to her. She stuck by Isla. She was kind enough, helpful enough. But the spell she casted in Niko was too great. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that a girl he hated for so long became the object of his heart before her. 

“You know Y/n, I never really liked you.” Her words made Y/n pause. Something was wrong. There were no birds singing. No a sound was present. Something was wrong. 

She slowly placed the rose, roots in all on the pile of other roses. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I just never really liked you. You were always so… brutish, not to mention bloody.” Rosica snarled as she stood over Y/n. This was wrong. She shouldn’t have gone with Rosica, Y/n barely knew her. She was Niko’s lover if anything at all.

Niko had almost never brought Rosica around her. She wasn’t sure why but now in the moment she knew that this girl was not her friend.

“Niko used to hate you, I don’t know why it changed. You aren’t very pretty, so you couldn’t have made him fall in love that way. Your personality is nothing special either, you’re just cold.” She continued. The bushes began to shake as another figure approached.

“What is this?” Y/n asked not looking back at the pair.

“Your death.” Zan voiced. She turned her head to him. It didn’t really surprise her, Zan should have don’t something like this ages ago. She’d disfigured him after all, no amount of kind words could change that.

“You are a special breed half-breed. I never would’ve know had Kanos not placed me in that arena with you. Your power is astounding!” His face was as manic as his words. 

“The only powers I have are the gifts of Helios. I’m no grisha like you.” She snapped as she glared at the pair.  Zain’s smile curled up, showing off his perfectly white teeth.

“Adam felt it, the power in your bones that day in the arena. I never got close enough to touch your skin but he did. I gather so did Kheli but he wouldn’t give us many answers.” She furrowed her brows at his words. 

This made no sense, not a single word spoke to her made sense. After the ceremony she had gain powers. Strength in the flesh, mind and spirit, but all helios’s were granted these powers. 

“You’re an amplifier.”

The words sent chills down her spine. She wasn’t sure what an amplifier was but it sounded familiar. Like a concept she was in the cusps of grasping 

“Took me some time to figure it out but,” he paused laughing crazily. “They hid it so well. All of them. You have NO IDEA! No idea how much that council protects you!”

Her eyes faltered for a moment. Staring down at the snow covering the woods. She should have never felt Maja in her room. She should’ve brought her war dog with her. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked her tone surprisingly gentle. Rosica’s harden gaze faded for a moment. This wasn’t the viscous girl she was ready to kill moments ago. 

“An amplifier is a creature whose bones grant more power to a grisha. You amplify us. At least you will once we’re done with you.” She curled up her lips. He was wrong, he had to be. Niko was a grisha and he never once brought this up. 

A few moments of pure silence past as they all stare at one another. She could hear the snow falling into the ground. Niko had never touched her skin. He was afraid of his own powers. Saints grace….

Niko had only ever grabbed anyone by their clothed shoulders or arms. After the arena fight Kheli refused to touch her. He was reject her hand at every turn and grasp onto her clothes back instead. 

His way of showing love was touching. He enjoyed hugs and hand holding more than Isla ever had. Yet he’d never touch Y/n, every memory of her experiences with grisha had been the same. One touch then never again.

“Where’s Adam? He told you of this?” Her words were soft, quiet, small.

“He’s a fool, he wanted nothing to do with this.” Perhaps that was what hurt her more. Adam was more a stranger to her than Zan. She killed someone she cared for she he and the others could escape the village in fjerda. She never done such a thing for Adam. 

She didn’t react as her entire body was pushed into the ice waters. She flared around as the pair grabbed onto her legs, arms and body keeping her down. The corners of her vision became darkened as she thrashed. 

The water enclosed upon her as its cold waters filled her lungs. She screamed and gagged as she tries to break from there grips. But she was weaker, tired, and broken. Y/n had to admit that they were rather smart to choose now to kill her.

GET UP!

It was that voice again. It was different this time. His will voice was deep, harsh but there was a sense of fear she’d never heard before. She continued to thrash about as through her blurred vision she saw a blade. 

Her jerking slowed as her vision began to blacken. Her lung became heavy as she inhaled the salty lake water. It burned down her throat as her fight began to diminish.

THERE’S A BLADE AT YOUR SIDE! 

GRAB IT!

Quickly obeying the strangers voice her freezing hand reached to her side. The cold metal cut at her fingertips. She knew there was never a blade on her. She wrapped her hands around the hilt and brought it up.

The blade slashed around….

It planted dip into flesh. Red filled her vision as her body was pulled from the icy waters. Her eyes faded in and out as screams entered her ears. A pair of cold wet hands held tightly onto her.

She was rolled on her back, her head falling limply to the side. There he was. A mass of muscles, taller than any man she’d ever seen. His body covered in thick bounds of metal that curved around him. His sword was ginormous, the hilt alone was bigger than her hand.

Water was pulled from her throat as she gagged violently. A pair of gentle and delicate hands pulled her head into there lap. Her eyes shut for a while.

The world was too loud to ignore. 

“No! Please! We didn’t mean any harm!” Was that Zan? Begging?

A dark chuckle echoed through the cold air. 

“Then why did you try to kill what was mine!” His voice was deep and cruel. It echoed like a famine that would slaughter thousands. Like a battle that saints knew would be bloody. 

Zan’s screams would quickly cut off as the sound of metal meeting flesh entered her ears. Slowly her eyes opened, above her was the most beautiful woman she ever seen. With perfect blonde hair that flowed elegantly around her shoulders. Her beautiful crystal eyes stared down at her worriedly.

Slowly her own eyes drifted away, going to the side of her. Rosica laid on the ground by the lake. Her throat slit in two as the crimson pooled around her.  

The roses she’d pulled from the ground were coated in blood. They seemed to drown in the puddle of it. Her eyes flickered, she’d seen this before. Those bloody flowers were the same in her vision.

Alina, Y/n, and Mal all laid in the meadow field as they hid from grisha testers

Blood covered flowers 

A white stag standing in a snow covered forest

A pair of piercings eyes so dark they looked black peering down at her

Black armor covering her as a strange light admitted from her hands

After her head injury those images had been planted in her head for the past few years. They had been burnt into her very soul. 

“Will she live?” His voice held that touch of fear she was so used to. Another man she hadn’t seen nodded his head gently. His long locked curled around each other like gently ocean waves. His bright blue eyes stared down at his calmly. 

“You’re are certain?’ The blonde women who held her sighed softly.

“Ares, my love, she will live, her memories of this will be fogged.” She could hear yelling, so much yelling in the distance. 

“We must go nephew.” The ocean eyed man said as he stood. The blonde who held Y/n kissed her cheek softly, her eyes began to drop even more. As her body touched the cold floor she felt a warm large hand in his face. 

“Be bloody, be ruthless…. My little blood Helios.” With that, they were gone. And all faded to black. 

Divider create goes to @astralnymphh

[sudriantraveler]

Traintober 2024 Day 30: Oncoming Storm

1943

Storm clouds swirled and darkened the sky, as an engine and its train puffed slowly through the English countryside.

The engine was a strange, boxy sort. One of Oliver Bulleid’s Q1 goods engines built with austerity in mind.

Despite being barely a year old, wartime service had taken a toll on him. His matte black paint, hardly a handsome look even when new, was covered in soot and grime, and a hoarse, tired panting sound emerged from his funnel.

The rain pelted down, and a distant roar of thunder shook the air.

The engine shuddered, and glanced nervously up at the angry sky.

Air-raids were an ever-present danger, which might loom behind every cloud.

"But surely..." the engine thought, "No aircraft, friend or enemy, would dare to fly in this stuff".

So despite the weather, he almost allowed himself to feel relieved.

At least there would be nothing more than rain.

That relief was soon gone however.

A chill ran through the engine's boiler, as through the storm the unmistakable drone of an aircraft rumbled overhead.

Its yellow nose emerged from the clouds, followed by a sinister gray body.

The black crosses on its wings boldly marked it an agent of death.

The engine saw it circle overhead, buffeted by wind and rain as it did so.

Slowly, painfully slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, it turned.

Then, it dipped its wings and dived towards the train.

The engine roared in fright, smoke poured from his funnel as he dragged the heavy train faster and faster.

He wanted to break the couplings all together, drop the train and run. But the couplings held, the rails curved up a steep hill, and his escape was painfully slow.

The aircraft's guns pointed out from its yellow nose, its sights aimed directly at the fleeing engine.

With great relief the engine crested the top of the hill.

The trucks, equally terrified at the prospect of being left behind, pushed forward, and with their surging weight the train rocketed down the hill, just as the aircraft guns flashed into life.

The crew ducked for cover as tracers blazed past their engine's boiler, burying into the ground and ricocheting off the rails.

Too close, Too Close, TOO CLOSE!

The engine whistled in terror as the winged beast zoomed overhead.

He could only watch, horrified, as it pulled up into a climbing turn, readying itself for another shot.

It was like it was toying with him.

Whistling fit to bust, the train raced down the line. Green fields gave way to houses, and air-raid sirens blared as the nearby town awoke to the ongoing attack.

The engine screamed through the station, feeling little relief even as searchlights and flak burst pierced the stormy sky.

The plane flew doggedly on, dodging ground-fire with almost unnatural swiftness and ease.

Diving in for another pass, it fired again. Metal punctured and tore, and the engine yelped as red hot pain reverberated through his side.

Cold wind blew through the newly opened gaps in his boiler cladding, and steam hissed from the bullet holes piercing his cylinder block.

He desperately tried to fight the pain and keep going. But his vision blurred, and his speed grew slower and slower.

He was a sitting duck.

Again the aircraft rose up, climbing and turning into position for what would surely be the final time.

The engine watched as the plane flew in towards him again, head on.

Its yellow nose grew larger and larger, the cannon mounted in its center bloomed as a black flower of death.

For both machines, the world narrowed into that single weapon.

The aircraft had just put its sights on target, when a searchlight beamed directly onto it.

It fired blindly, only barely missing its mark, as the dazzling light was followed by a flak burst striking clean into its cockpit.

The aircraft shook violently from the impact. Blood and oil sprayed out into its prop-wash, trailing behind in a fine mist which fell down over its would-be victim as it roared mere feet overhead.

Out of control, its dead pilot's hands limp on the stick, the wounded bird slowly pulled away into an unsteady climb.

Searchlights and ground-fire pursued it all the while, until it disappeared back into the storm clouds, and in a flash of lightning it vanished from the world of the living.

The rain continued to pour down, as back on the ground the engine and its train wheezed slowly to a halt.

His crew jumped down from the cab to inspect the damage, as he groaned and cried through escaping steam.

As the engine faded in and out of consciousness, fighting exhaustion and pain, he could only barely register that he was somehow still alive.

[pandalorian36]

Izzy x (Genderneutral)Reader

Ed reveals the reason Izzy is always so grumpy and short tempered is because he got separated from you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, knives/swords. Word count: 4655

Izzy stomps away from yet another shouting match muttering under his breath as he goes the rest of the crew staring after him in a state of shock. He had never yelled that much for something so little. Lucius had kissed Pete on the cheek and next thing Izzy was yelling and cursing about everything. “Well, that was intense.” Lucius nods agreeing with his partner just as Stede and Ed emerge onto deck “What the blazes was that all about?” Ed glances over at his first mate and Roach speaks up “Izzy snapped.”

Ed nods slightly “We heard that. Why?” Lucius glances at Pete “I kissed Pete on the cheek.” Stede looks shocked “Something so small? Really? We thought someone had broken the ship.” Ed looks confused a moment before looking up speaking quickly “What’s the date?”

“Sorry?”

“The date. Today. What is it?”

Lucius looks at the diary tucked under his arm “June 2nd possibly 3rd.” Ed, Ivan and Fang all exchange a look of understanding “June 3rd. I’ll go check on him.” Ed leaves the rest of the crew gathering around Ivan and Fang who clearly have the rest of the story. Stede pipes up “What happened June 3rd?" Ivan sighs shrugging “It was just over two years ago. We raided a merchant vessel, turned out to have a lot more weapons on board than we intended and was actually full of trained soldiers. We managed to set the ship a light and get back to the Queen Anne when the flames hit a gunpowder storage. Lucky our ship wasn’t damaged, but it caused a big confusion.”

He stops and Fang takes over the story “those that were on the main deck didn’t get injured, but it did confuse us enough that the merchant crew managed to take charge. Two of our crew where captured which did allow the rest to escape but Ed forbid us from going back. We now know one was killed but the second we don’t know. Their name was Y/N, they were Izzy’s. Partner? Lover? Companion? Actually, I’m not sure what they were but they were incredibly close, always had each other’s backs. God, forbid you threatened one of them the other was always close by. They were the only one who could best Izzy at swordplay,” he grins “Part from Stede.”

Ivan sighs “Before we lost Y/N, Izzy was actually pretty tolerable. He’s always had a temper and a tendency to threaten people, but Y/N could always calm them. Couldn’t help but like Y/N, don’t get me wrong they were a ruthless pirate, loyal to Ed and Izzy. Forgot to mention Y/N was Ed’s younger sibling, least we think so. Fiercely protective of each other.”

The whole crew remains silent taking the information in. Ed leans on the railing next to Izzy crossing his arms out over the water “I miss ‘em too Iz.”

“Fuck off Edward.”

“I just thought… Actually, don’t know what I thought.”

Izzy sighs shoulders sagging “Why couldn’t we go back?” Ed frowns staring out over the sea “I had to think of the crew. If we had gone back, you know none of us would of come away.” Ed clasps Izzy’s shoulder “Y/N probably would have some stupid motivational crap to say to ya but fraid all I got is they’re gone mate, not anything we can do about it. Just have to move on.” Ed walks away Stede falling into step beside him “You never mentioned you had a brother/sister?”

Ed shrugs slightly walking back into their cabin “Not something I like to talk about. They’re dead not anything can do about it.”

“Still, you must miss them. Where you close?” Ed sighs falling onto the sofa “Suppose we we’re close yea. Them and Izzy where the only two I ever trusted.” Stede sits on the edge of the sofa by Ed’s feet frowning “I’m sorry.” Ed shrugs “‘is alright. Sometimes feel guilty for it though. You know? I was captain, I ordered the raid and the burning of the ship.”

“It’s not your fault Ed,” Stede tries to sound reassuring patting his leg “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done.” Ed flips himself around, so his head is in Stedes lap letting him play with his hair “It’s not your fault.”

Izzy is still standing over the railing the ring usually safe around his neck scarf clasped between thumb and finger.

“Izzy.” Y/N hisses from the shadows pulling the first mate away from the crowds “What the fuck are you doing?” Y/N rolls their eyes “Playing crochet. What do you fucking think I’m doing. Captain Vance just turned up.”

“Shit.” Y/N snorts in response “My thoughts exactly. Come on.” The two make their way towards the docks using the back alleys both freezing when a deep gravelly voice echoes down the confined space making it seem louder “Well, well, well what do we have here? Israel Hands and Y/N Teach.” The two-freeze swearing colourfully before turning Izzy raising his sword and Y/N gripping a pistol tightly “What do you want Vance?”

Vance a large bulky man with scars decorating most of his skin the remainder coated in ink. “That’s Captain Vance to you dog.” Y/N scowls their grip on the pistol tightening as the flick the hammer ready to fire “What do you want Captain Vance?”

“I want to kill you two worthless lumps. You torched my ship.” Izzy smiles slightly “Only a little.” Vance seethes “A little. A little? You destroyed it.” Vance takes out two pistols readying them to fire “I would like to draw this out, make it painful and slow. Then watch as Black Beard finds your mutilated bodies. But unfortunately, I do not have that luxury. Still, you will at least be dead.” Y/N shoots first three shots echoing around the alley. Vance falls to the ground blood blossoming from his shoulder while his shots hit the wall sending bits of rock flying.

“Time to go.” Y/N grabs Izzy’s arm the two of them running full pelt from the alley as Vance swearing and spluttering lumbers back to his feet to give chase. Flying out into the busy street where a market is being held the two dodge between stalls skidding down another alley as Vance’s crew appear with their captain in the lead a bloodied cloth to his shoulder “FIND THEM.”

“We’ve got to get back to the ship!” Y/N turns to Izzy pausing when they both realise how close they have gotten in the small space. Izzy’s cheek heat while Y/N smirks “Am I making you uncomfortable Iz?” he shakes his head slightly making the latter chuckle pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before shooting him a wink “I’ll cause a distraction. You get Ed.”

Before Izzy can protest Y/N has leapt onto the closest stool selling jewellery grabbed a fistful of brightly coloured gems and started yelling at the top of their lungs “Captain Vance, I believe these colours would draw the attention away from that ass of a face you have. Although anyone would have to be blind before they even considered you attractive. Least you can fight… oh wait no you can’t. You’re just crap at everything aren’t you.”

Jumping from stall to stall and causing utter chaos in the midst Y/N runs deeper into town while Izzy runs back to the ship to get backup. The two of them may be the best swords on the Queen Anne but they’re also smart enough to know Captain Vance and his crew are not to be messed with. As Izzy reaches the ship as a large explosion shakes the docks a cloud of dust rising from deep inside the town. “What the fuck was that.” Ed appears on the gangplank while Izzy sighs shaking his head slightly “Who do you think?” they both say the same thing in unison “Y/N.”

As if they have been summoned Y/N comes skidding over the rooftop’s tiles falling to the floor before they topple to the ground in a heap when they jump on a barrel that is not secure “What the fuck did you do?” Izzy helps them to their feet “Caused a distraction. Captain Vance will no longer be a problem.” Ed snorts supporting Y/N’s other side as they walk onto the ship “Our worst enemy gone for good. Excellent work. Iz help ‘em get cleaned up gotta make sure we’re ready to go.”

Izzy helps Y/N limp to their cabin “Do I even want to know?” Y/N shrugs “Probably not. Got you something.” Out their pocket they take a simple diamond ring smiling proudly “It’s not real, and pretty sure it’s not even gold but for you.” Izzy takes it slipping it on the handkerchief around his neck “Where did you get it?”

Y/N starts removing their outer layers poking at a wound on their side while talking “Stole it. Its only temporary before I get you something better. Can’t have my man wearing second rate jewellery. But thought you needed something to show you were taken. Not that pirates care for such things. You don’t have to wear it; just thought I don’t know.” Izzy rolls his eyes clamping a hand over Y/Ns mouth to stop their rambling “I’ll wear it. Though we’ve already got tattoos can’t get much more permanent than that.” Y/N shrugs starting to clean their cut before Izzy takes over kneeling between their legs on the floor “Do you think we’ll be okay? With our profession and everything.”

The two stare into each other’s eyes a moment before Y/N closes the gap cupping Izzy’s face gently “We’re gonna be just fine.”

Izzy returns the ring to its rightful place. Y/N did in fact gift him much more most of it stolen but some of it actually bought, including the sword hanging at his side. He glances at the pale band of skin on his ring finger still visible despite two years, the ring that use to sit their long gone. Where he had no idea, but it felt like a stab to the chest every time he saw it was gone. Returning his gaze out over the sea he ignores the whispering crew behind him wishing he could go back and change the past and return Y/N Teach to his side.

Your P/O/V:

Shit. I duck into the nearest alley tugging my hood further forward as a group of navy officer’s marches past in perfect form. Breathing a sigh of relief when they pass, I push back my hood leaning against the wall. Finally free of that cramped cell and tattered clothing. Two years, eight months and three weeks spent in an British prison, it’s a relief to be free. Though wanted posters have started appearing around the docks with a reasonable reward.

Keeping to the shadows I head closer to the docks inspecting the ships currently docked. Taverns are the best place for gossip, and I have heard varying tales of my brother, which ones I believe I am not sure. Most people give me wary looks the heavy hood, leather and two swords crossed across my back and pistol holstered on my thigh don’t exactly scream friendly.

Finding a dingy tavern any member of the navy would avoid like the plague I step inside tossing a few coins on the counter “Rum.” The bartender an elderly man with multiple missing teeth and stringy hair pushes a glass across the counter “And information I imagine?” I smile into my drink “What do you know of Blackbeard?”

“Blackbeard? Queen Anne is under new captainage they was here last week. Not sure where Blackbeard ended up. Word is he’s gone soft sailing with some gentlemen pirate, though few believe those rumours.” I nod finishing my drink he refills it without my asking before moving along the bar to serve someone else. I sip this one leaning back against the bar, gentlemen pirate never heard of him before.

Finishing my second drink I stalk out the bar all I need is a ship. A small vessel catches my eye definitely pirate from the crew loading up supplies I watch from the shadows as they stumble about on deck. Not the most experienced of crew but they will have to all I need is the captain. Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn “Shit.” The officer grins “Y/N Teach you are under arrest.” I sigh putting my hands in the air “Fine you caught me.” turning away for a second, I form a fist before spinning back catching the officer across the jaw sending him sprawling to the ground.

Taking of I run towards the tree line more shouts echoing behind, so much for a low profile. Several shots ring out as I start zig-zagging closer to the trees jumping over a stack of barrels and a wall before finally reaching the trees. “You are ordered to stop.” I grin speeding up as I enter the trees following a worn path deeper in land before taking a sharp turn back to the coast. Swinging myself up into the low branches I jump from tree to tree watching the navy officers below following my footprints “Where did they go?”

“They can’t be far.”

“Do we kill them?”

I jump to the next tree slowly making my way back to town. Jumping back to the ground I turn quickly when two men yelp. Drawing my sword, I turn lowering it when it is not soldiers. “You never saw me.” they both nod and I take off again reaching a small beach already inhabited. A group of pirates lounging around on the sand. “Captain?” I take a step back ready to run again when two men turn to answer the question: one an elaborately dressed blond who looks more gentleman than pirate the other. “Edward!?”

I would recognise that beard anywhere. I push back my hood taking several steps forward, his eyes widen in recognition “You’re not dead.” I snort “Not last I checked.” He runs over poking my chest then my cheek “You’re really not dead.” I roll my eyes punching him in the stomach making him grunt “Point taken.” I grin “That’s for leaving me behind.” He laughs the two of us colliding in a hug “Can’t believe you’re not dead.” I laugh “Sorry to disappoint.”

He shakes his head “What? No. Not what I meant. Shit. Izzy. Where’s Izzy? Stede where’s Izzy?” Stede the fancy blonde looks confused “Back on the ship. Why?” Ed grins grabbing my arm “Come on.” I dig my heels into the sand “Navy kinda after my head. Town is not a good idea.” Ed frowns only pausing a moment before resuming dragging me across the beach “Nope. Come on.” I manage to tug up my hood as we practically sprint to the ship I spotted earlier and up onto the deck.

“Izzy! Get your butt out here. Iz. Iz. Izzy.” Fang, Ivan, and Izzy all come running onto deck swords drawn “Edward what the hell is going… on?” I push back my hood Izzy’s sword falling to the ground “Look who’s not dead.”

“Y/N?” I smile slightly the rest of the crew disappearing my sole focus on Izzy. “I missed you Iz.” He steps forward still looking a little shell shocked “We thought you were dead.” I shrug slightly “Had a couple close calls but still here.” I smile my stomach tying in knots as I step closer “I can leave if…” I don’t get the chance to finish his body colliding with mine “Don’t. Don’t even.” I chuckle wrapping my arms around him “You really think I would leave Iz? Spent the last two years trying to get back to you.”

His grip tightens but I gently ease his face away from my neck cupping his face in one hand smiling softly “Missed you Iz.” He returns my smile the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly “You’re really here.” I nod leaning my forehead against his “I’m here.” I grin tracing the ring around his neck “Can’t believe you still have this. Which reminds me, this belongs to you.” I tug on the cord around my neck two identical silver bands with waves pressed into the metal. I take one of putting it back where it belongs on Izzy’s ring finger “I thought I lost it.” I shake my head “You left it on the side in our cabin when you helped with my stitches. I was going to return it after the raid and well you know the rest.”

My brother clears his throat the two of us pulling apart “Wait hang on. Izzy is capable of smiling?” I bite my lip leaning down to kiss Izzy’s cheek neither of us had ever been big on PDA, but I want to remind myself he’s real. Izzy scowls at the pirate who spoke making him laugh Ed steps forward before anything else can be said “Everybody. This is my little brother/sister Y/N.” Stede smiles brightly “Stede Bonnet its lovely to meet you.” I shake his hand tentatively shocked when Ed throws an arm around his shoulders smiling lovingly at the strange man “Reunion can wait we really need to get out here.”

We all turn our attention back to the docks where a large number of navy officers have gathered combing the docks from top to bottom. Stede nods “Right. Come along everyone, get the rest of those stores below pronto.” The ship is a flurry of activity as the gang plank is raised and the sails unfurled. I remain tense till we are well out into the open sea, Izzy joins me at the prow, and I move so I can wrap my arms around his waist head resting on his shoulder “So how long has Ed been like this?”

Izzy chuckles leaning forward against the railing my arms atop his “Fair while.” I close my eyes breathing in the sea air enjoying the light breeze that ruffles Izzy’s hair “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes confused. “I thought you were behind us. I should have checked, should have been there for you.” I move my arms so they are wrapped around his chest and waist “Iz there is nothing you could have done. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“You should.” His voice sounds so small it breaks my heart “I don’t, and neither should you. none of us knew what would happen, pirating ain’t a career known for its safety. The only thing I couldn’t stand was the fact I never got to say goodbye or tell you how much I love you or how much you mean to me.” he turns so we are face to face tears staining his cheeks which I brush away gently “Because I do love you Israel hands. Time has not changed that.”

“I love you too.” His lips are hesitant at first as they brush against mine before I draw him closer with a hand cupping his cheek. “Swear we won’t leave each other’s side ever again.” I grin “Till death do us part right?” he nods lips twitching into a small smile “Till death do us part.” I kiss him again deeper this time running my fingers through his hair while his dig into the front of my shirt pulling the two of us closer together. “This better not be a dream.” I chuckle tracing the star then the swallow tattooed on his neck “I promise its real.”

We remain together ignoring the rest of the crew who stare and whisper while we return to our previous position watching the water lapping the front of the boat while catching up on two years of tales more so from him than me catching me up on the strange crew, he has found himself with. Finally, we exhaust most topics and Izzy sighs heavily “They will want to talk to you.” I smile “I won you over, reckon I can deal with this lot.” His smile grows slightly before returning to his neutral expression “Let’s get this over with then.” We turn making our way to the centre deck the crew trying and failing to hide their curiosity. Ed saunters over grinning “You both look insanely happy. Hey, you got your ring back.” Izzy nods slightly tracing the silver band while Ed throws an arm around my shoulders “Everyone this is Y/N. Y/N this is my new crew, well our crew.” He grins at Stede “Lucius, Pete, John, Jim, Frenchie, Olowande, Roach, Swede, and Frenchie. You already know Ivan and Fang.” I nod slightly in greeting.

Olo waves while Swede looks confused “I thought they were dead.” I smile slightly “Nope.” Ivan grins “Good to have ya back.” Ed chuckles while Stede clumsily walks over stuttering over his words “Well then, how about you tell us a bit about yourself. We talk things through as a crew on this vessel. And I know I would like to know a bit more about you.” I frown “What’s there to know? I’m good with a sword, spent the last two years in a British jail cell, anyone hurts Izzy or my brother, and they get a knife in the gut.” Stede nods looking slightly alarmed “Right well I was thinking more along the lines of your favourite colour? Or perhaps hobbies?”

Izzy makes a sort of choked cough noise while I bite back a laugh “Your new to this aren't you?.” Stede beams “Yes, realatively. Now Roach is our resident cook and doctor, Izzy is first mate, Buttons is normally at the helm and Lucius is my scribe. I’m sure you will find your place soon enough; do you have any particular skills you feel may benefit the group?” Ed laughs “You kidding? They’re strong, fast, agile. Excellent with a sword and daggers, spent half their time up in the bloody rigging. Though two years out of action may have effected that.”

I grin reaching for one of my swords “Want to test that theory, Edward?” he draws his own sword spinning it artistically “Alright N/N.” Izzy sighs grumbling “You won’t beat them Ed.” I block every blow I may have been locked up for two years but that didn’t stop me from training in any way I could keeping up arm strength and agility. My muscles strain slightly but I grin putting more weight into my blows before knocking my brother to the ground sword pointed to his chest “Fuck. Really thought I could win that.” Grinning I haul him back to his feet “Don’t feel too bad about its Eddy.”

He groans rolling his eyes “Not that fucking name again.” I laugh clapping him on the back “Only if you piss me off, I promise.” The rest of the crew are grinning broadly while Ed claps me on the shoulder “So two years in prison ay?” I shrug eyes darkening “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“When did you get out?” I sigh running my thumb over my blade before sheathing it “Three days ago. I got to the coast this morning. Then you know the rest.” His face softens slightly “I’m sorry N/N.” I shrug brushing him off “It’s in the past, nothing you could have done. Just drop it.” he nods returning to his usual self “Well you catch up on some rest. Iz?” he nods motioning with his head, I follow into a small cabin immaculately tidy. A bunk along one wall just big enough for two, a writing desk, two storage chests and a small window “I kept all your stuff. Never could bring myself to getting rid of it.”

I turn pulling him into a tight hug the both of us dropping our shields “Thought of you every day.” He chuckles kissing me gently “I didn’t handle you leaving well.” I smile tugging of my jacket and laying it over the chair also removing my swords and boots “Let me guess you returned to your grouchy side.” He rolls his eyes “I’m always grouchy.” Laughing I sit on the bed pulling him down on top “Yea, but you have a grouchy side and then your super grouchy side. I know you Iz and I would have acted the same way.”

He sighs the two of us laying comfortably on the bed. He starts tracing the tattoos on my arms stopping at the largest on my bicep. An anchor with rope wrapped around it and a compass behind. “I remember when you got that.” I grin “Ed was acting all high and mighty that he got a tattoo so I had to get one that was bigger.” Izzy chuckles continuing up to my shoulder before moving to my other arm focusing on the inside of my wrist an anchor with roses wrapped around it “I regretted not getting mine more visible.”

I grin tracing the back of his shoulder blade where his own tattoo is etched. “We could get another one?” he laughs “Hmm maybe.” I shift slightly my shirt riding up “What’s that?” I freeze tugging my shirt back down “It’s nothing.” Sitting up he pushes my shirt back eyes turning cold as he examines the lines wrapping around my sides scars left from all the times the navy tried to get information out of me “Turn over.”

“Iz, I don’t think.” “Turn over.” slowly I turn almost glad I can’t see his expression as his fingers ghost over the skin. “I’m going to fucking kill them.” I turn back grabbing his hands “I’m okay Iz. I was worth more alive than dead, but they gave up trying to get information after eight months. ” I try and smile failing when Izzy looks so broken “Is your entire back…” I shrug “I have no idea. Probably. Could only see a small portion in the mirror.” Sighing I turn and pull of my shirt Izzy he traces up along the back “Fucking hell Y/N.”

“How’s my tattoo?” his hands freeze a chocked laugh coming from him “Sorry, just trying to make light of this.” His arms wrap tightly around my waist “I should have been there to protect you.” I relax into his warmth turning around so we are face to face. “Okay here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to move on from this, you are going to stop beating yourself up. I don’t blame you for anything. Look at me Iz,” he meets my eyes and I smile “Now pull yourself together. Neither of us are good with this sappy crap we can leave that to Ed and whatever him and the weird blonde have going on.”

A grin slowly spreads across his face “I don’t know what I did to deserve you Y/N Teach.” I grin rolling my eyes playfully “I love you Izzy Hands.” His mouth collides with mine the two of us falling back into the bed “We ever bump into the navy I’m slaughtering them all.” I grin kissing him again “If it makes you feel better, I already killed the two who did it.” He snorts kissing my cheek “Helps a little.” He flops onto my chest while I run my fingers through his hair.

3rd person P/O/V:

Ed walks out onto deck frowning “Anyone seen Iz?” the rest of the crew look around confused. Where is the angry man of a first mate? “Pete, Ivan? No one has seen him?”

“Nope.” “No.”

“Frenchie go check his cabin.” Frenchie nods and disappears below deck knocking gently on the door before peeking inside. Y/N and Izzy are sprawled on the bed in a tangle of limbs both sleeping soundly. Hastily Frenchie shuts the door and makes his way back to the deck “Both asleep captain.” Ed laughs “Sleeping? Really?” Stede smiles warmly “Well they have both been through rather a lot. Let’s leave them rest for a bit.”

[hummingbird24220]

Chapter Fifty-Four: Side Effects May Include Emotional Turbulence

The aphrodisiac had not—despite your very vocal, very dramatic complaints—killed you. Unfortunately.

But it also hadn’t worn off yet.

By the time evening rolled around, you were no longer dying on the galley floor. No. Now you were dying very upright, perched on a bench on the deck with your knees pulled up to your chest, face flushed and heart doing parkour in your ribcage any time someone made direct eye contact.

Your skin was still warm. Your brain was still foggy. And everyone around you had suddenly become suspiciously attractive.

Especially Sanji. And Zoro. And Nami. And Robin. And honestly at this point even the ship looked kind of hot.

You buried your face in your arms and groaned. “I am going to jump into the ocean and let the sea decide if I’m worth saving.”

“Drink this,” Sanji said gently, setting a glass of water beside you like he wasn’t the very root of your current unholy suffering.

You peeked up at him. Big mistake.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His hair was damp from the sea breeze. He looked like romance incarnate, and he was staring down at you with that worried, soft-eyed expression that only made your condition ten times worse.

You pointed a shaky finger at him. “You. Too beautiful. Go stand somewhere else.”

Sanji blinked. “I—what?”

“I’m volatile and impressionable,” you hissed. “I’ll do something stupid. I can feel it in my bones.”

He stared. Then slowly—so smugly—his lips curved into a little smile. “Would it be... too stupid if you kissed me?”

You made a noise like a tea kettle boiling over and flung the drink at him.

Not long after, Zoro strolled by, towel slung over his shoulder from training. You turned away fast, trying not to look directly at his arms, which were glistening like he’d been carved by the gods and cursed to walk among mortals.

He stopped next to you, raising a brow. “…You good?”

“No,” you said without hesitation. “Your stupid biceps are distracting. Go be sweaty somewhere else.”

Zoro blinked. Then, slowly, so so dangerously, he smirked. “Ohhh. Still feeling it, huh?”

You clutched the railing like it could save you from your own thoughts. “I’m going to break something.”

“Don’t break yourself,” he muttered, and walked away.

You stared after him. Muttering. “…Too late.”

Later that night, you were finally, finally starting to feel normal again. Your head was clearing. Your heart had stopped pounding like a war drum.

And that’s when Nami, casually sipping a drink under the stars, said: “So, if the aphrodisiac made you more honest… who were you actually thinking about all day?”

You froze.

Half the crew perked up instantly. Robin didn’t look up, but turned one page slower. Sanji sat up straighter. Zoro cracked one eye open from where he was resting nearby. Luffy blinked. “What’s an afrowhatsit?”

Your soul left your body.

“I refuse to answer,” you said quickly.

Nami smirked. “Meaning there is someone.”

“I plead the fifth.”

Robin helpfully added, “That’s not legally recognized out here.”

You got up, face blazing, muttering, “Nope. Nope. I’m sleeping in the storage closet.”

Sanji called after you, “If it was me, I just want to say—” Zoro, at the same time, grunted, “If it was him, I’ll kill him.”

You tripped on your way out. Because of course you did.

And as the door swung closed behind you and muffled laughter echoed on deck, one very loud thought settled into your mind:

You are never eating mystery sauce again. Ever. No matter how good it smells.

—-----------

The next day, the air was clearer. Cooler. The clouds overhead moved like lazy giants, drifting just enough to break the sun.

The aphrodisiac was fully out of your system. Your body had stopped feeling like it was going to throw itself at the next person who offered you a sandwich. Your brain had cooled. You were safe.

Mostly.

You stood at the edge of a high cliffside trail, overlooking a lush, green island below. You'd docked here for rest and gathering—no bounty hunters, no angry locals, no spicy mystery ingredients. Just good weather and time to breathe.

You took a deep breath, arms stretched wide, eyes closed.

Finally. A moment of peace.

Zoro's voice cut through it like a sword. “You done soul-searching up here or should I come back in an hour?”

You cracked one eye open. “Took you long enough.”

He stepped up beside you, arms crossed. “Didn’t want to get caught in the splash zone if you were still... affected.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well. No more dreamy sighing or accidental heart eyes. You can stop acting like I’m a ticking time bomb.”

He shrugged. “You’re still weird around Sanji.”

You made a strangled sound. “I was high on soup, Zoro. I had no control over my choices.”

“Sure,” he said, glancing at you sideways. “That’s what we’re going with?”

You shoved him lightly, and he barely budged. “Tch. I’m back in control now. Emotionally stable and everything.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “You just tried to throw yourself off a cliff three days ago to escape flirting.”

“I was hot and vulnerable,” you grumbled. “And people were too shiny. That is no longer my problem.”

“…Right.” He didn’t sound convinced.

You turned back to the view. “...You guys weren’t weird about it,” you said quietly.

He shrugged again. “You were weird enough for everyone.”

You grinned. “Fair.”

Back down in the forest clearing, Sanji was rearranging the picnic lunch he’d packed while Nami sat nearby on a log, watching him with raised eyebrows.

“Do you think they’ll stop pretending it didn’t happen?” she asked casually.

Sanji gave a half-laugh. “(Y/N)? Absolutely not.” He stacked another sandwich. “But I’ll wait. Doesn’t matter how long.”

Nami squinted. “Wait for what, exactly?”

Sanji just smiled and dusted off his hands. “Control can be overrated sometimes.”

Zoro kicked a rock down the cliffside. “So. Are we pretending the bounty thing didn’t go to your head too?”

You huffed. “Okay, maybe I said ‘bow before me’ to a tavern owner.”

Zoro gave a single snort of laughter. “You’re the worst.”

You grinned. “But I’m strong. And hot. And scary. All at once.”

He looked at you, smirking. “You forgot brutish and bullheaded.”

You turned to face him fully, eyes sharp. “And you're loyal, loud, and kind of amazing under pressure.”

There was a beat of silence. You blinked. “…Wait. Did I just compliment you?”

Zoro looked alarmed. “I think you did.”

“God, the aphrodisiac is still in my system!” you said dramatically, stumbling back like you were cursed.

He caught your arm before you tripped, deadpan. “I hate you.”

You beamed. “Back at you, bro.”

And from far below, the faint sound of Sanji’s voice drifted up on the wind— “Lunch is ready! Try not to fight on the way down!”

“Race you,” you said.

Zoro cracked his knuckles. “You’re on.”

The island was calm. The tension was gone. You were yourself again.

Well—mostly.

[godlizzza]

hello ma'am, I would humbly offer you a fic prompt :3 how about Dan running late for a class, and colliding with Herbert as he tries to make it there? (it could be at Miskatonic or in a teen AU, I'll leave that up to you)

Herbert couldn't shake the voice of his nanny as he raced through the halls of Miskatonic University.

"No running inside! You'll trip and break your nose."

She had attributed this premonition to a combination of Herbert's general gracelessness and the lack of grip on his dress shoes' soles. Regardless, Herbert had continued to scurry about indoors all throughout his twenty-four years of life, broken nose free, and he wasn't about to stop now. Especially not when he was running late to class.

It wasn't that he was worried about being reprimanded for tardiness, it was that this was the first day they were being given permission to work, hands on, with the cadavers, and Herbert didn't want to miss it. It had been too long since he'd opened up a body beneath his fingers. Truly, he'd mastered no instrument quite like he had the scalpel, and his joints were getting rusty with disuse. If he was late, they might have assigned all the cadavers already, and he couldn't have that.

As he ppunded up the stairs, Herbert cursed the car accident that had blocked up traffic and made him late in the first place. Why couldn't whatever decrepit wretch who'd been behind the fateful wheel chosen to have a heart attack a different day? So inconsiderate! And now Herbert was suffering the consequences of their ill health. Really, it was cosmically unfair-

A body rushing down the stairs in the opposite direction clipped Herbert's shoulder as he passed, the speed and force of the hit knocking Herbert off balance. He careened on the edge of the step for a moment, arms pinwheeling as he tried to right himself, but that traitorous dress shoe slipped, sending Herbert falling backwards. His heart seized up in his chest as his vision turned skyward. His muscles clenched, bracing for impact.

But it never came. Before he could tumble down the stairs, his fall was abruptly arrested by an arm snaking around his waist. Herbert jolted as he was yanked up, colliding g into a solid body.

"Woah!" a voice said. "Shit, sorry. Are you okay?"

Herbert instinctively reached up, his hands flattening against a warm chest. He blinked and found himself staring up into a pair of concerned brown eyes. The proximity of his face to Herbert's, along with all the places their bodies were touching, had Herbert's cheeks blazing.

He recognised the man. It was Dan Cain, his fellow med student and classmate. Herbert had noticed him--as he noticed everyone, of course. He seemed a bright enough fellow, if a little lacking in constitution for a doctor in training.

Currently, Dan was a few steps above him, gripping the railing in one hand and Herbert in the other. His eyes kept flicking over Herbert's face, as though he really had fallen and broken his nose.

It was when Herbert felt the puff of Dan's breath over his mouth and realised how close their lips were, that he finally got a hold of himself enough to act. He regained his footing and shoved Dan back, reaching up to furiously readjust his glasses.

"I'm fine!" Herbert snapped. "Why don't you watch where you're going in the future?"

Dan appeared startled as Herbert pushed past him. "Uh, sorry. Wait, aren't you going to Dr. Hill's class today?"

Herbert paused long enough to glare down at Dan's earnest face. "Yes?"

Dan jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the floor Herbert had just passed.

"It's that way," he said.

Herbert's face grew impossibly hotter, his jaw tensing painfully as he clenched his teeth hard enough to crack. He turned around and stomped back the way he'd come, storming right past Dan's perplexed expression.

"I knew that!" he barked.

Dan chuckled behind him before his footsteps sounded up again, pacing after Herbert. Herbert didn't turn around and didn't wait for him to catch up, he just kept marching resolutely ahead. He'd had quite enough of Dan Cain for one day.

[oldhagtournament]

Fresh from the Preliminaries to join Round 1...

Propaganda under the cut

Big Mom

She is one of the four pirate Emperors of the Sea. She has 86 kids who are her crew and officers. Her Devil Fruit allows her to bring objects to life called "Homies", and her main Homies are a stormcloud named Zeus, a fireball named Prometheus, and a hat that can transform into a sword called Napoleon. She is my favorite One Piece villain, she's so powerful, cool, evil, manipulative, clever, silly, and terrifying. She's also 28 feet tall.

1) was at the top of the Pirate food chain at 80. Reigned for a wild 4 decades 2) her intensity, ambition, and mercenary nature remained brightly blazing in her old age 3) batshit parenting ethic. Off the rails territorial policy

Dr. Kureha

She's old. She's a hag. She keeps trying to tell people the secret of her "youth". She's also a doctor who scams people. She heals them but she makes them pay way to much. She has a sort of adopted son that is a reeinder. He's a most wanted pirate and she owbs and wears a crop top with his face and bounty on it. She wears this at an official government meeting. She gives no fucks.

She's old enough to remember the treatment for diseases that were thought wiped out 100 years ago She can tell if your bones are infected with bacteria just by lightly pressing on your leg, and she can cure broken backs in only a week or so. She can also kick through brick walls if her patients run away. She mentored/raised Chopper, one of the greatest doctors in the world.

Old lady who dresses like she's heading to a rave and throws knives at people. She's wonderful.

she's a radical old lady who can and will kick your ass. she's a mean old doctor who will demand all the toilet paper and plum wine in your house as payment for treating you. she has a belly button ring & wears clothes that show it off despite the fact that the country she lives in is a perma-winter island

she's a radical old lady who can and will kick your ass. she's a mean old doctor who will demand all the toilet paper and plum wine in your house as payment for treating you. she has a belly button ring & wears clothes that show it off despite the fact that the country she lives in is a perma-winter island.

Pretty much like if you took a magical hag only instead of cursing people and abducting children, she was a trained medical professional.

Punk granny

[crescentblossom66]

First Train on the Moon Part 1

I know it's late and only half finished so far, but I'll write part 2 as soon as I'm able. Enjoy this late birthday present, @nasubeenwithcat I hope you like more conductor brother content. Conductor (Connor) is back to being the nice version of him from the beta of Train Rush, by the way. Just wanted to point that out so that him being OOC is explained. I guess he's closer to Japanese Conductor that way :)

The sun was up high already causing the sand that it shone on to sparkle and glitter, sometimes he wondered if it would turn to glass if the desert he and his brothers called their home would get any hotter. Unlike him, the passengers on the train likely were more than glad about the AC on that was keeping the compartments from turning into blazing ovens with stagnant air. Connor was snapped out of his thoughts by the crying of a young boy that caught his attention immediately. Not wasting a single moment, he went over to the boy that the boy's mother was trying to comfort to the best of her ability. “Everythin' alright here, lil' guy?” He bent down to boy's level, giving him a soft smile which caused the cries to die down and be replaced by quiet sobs instead. That easy smile and his good nature was exactly why Connor of all four of them was the one taking care of the needs of the passengers. People liked how approachable and kindhearted he was.

“I-I lost my toy...I can't find him. Now Tricie's all alone. This placed is scary.” The young boy lamented, wiping away tears with his sleeve.

The black-suited conductor looked at the boy with sympathy. “Oh dear, ye're best friend got lost on the train, eh? I know this here train better than anyone else, I'm sure that I can find yer wee buddy. What does Tricie look like?”

“He's a green triceratops with a cool yellow hat and a cape. He's a superhero.” Through his tears, the young child gave a proud smile.

“Then I'm sure ye needn't worry about 'im till I find 'im. He's strong and not afraid.” A small nod came from the boy, and he realized that he was feeling scared without his toy. The yellow owl checked his pockets for something that could cheer the boy up, but found nothing. “You know who else isnae scared of anyhing'? A train conductor like me. We get protected by our hats. They may look silly, but they ward off scary things like bad guys and protect from scary placed.-” The boy glanced at the black cap that the owl held in his wings. “-It will be hard fer me ta not be scared with it gone, buy it will protect ye until I find yer superhero friend.” He gently placed the cap on the head of the boy for whom the accessory was way too big, so it almost obscured his eyes. For a moment, the older bird cringed internally, thinking that his little temporary gift hadn't done the trick, he was more than happy when the boy smiled.

“Mom, do I look cool?” With a new gleam in his eyes, the young bird turned to his mother who chuckled and gave a silent thanks to Connor by looking at him with a small smile. Having done his job, the yellow bird walked through the compartment, keeping an eye open for the toy of the boy.

He stepped out of the passenger cart and out to the caboose where he found his rust-red-feathered younger brother Redd who sitting on the ground, leaning against the railing with his hat dipped low and his hands behind his head. Connor shook his head at his slacker of a brother and gave the offending bird's foot a light kick which startled the red bird. Redd awkwardly flailed around briefly, being startled awake and torn out of his brief slumber. “What the peck, Con! I was having such a nice dream!” He crossed his wings as if his older sibling was the one who did something wrong. “I was winning big time in the casino on the other side of town, got a couple of pretty girls next ta me and...” He trailed off once he realized that the other was having none of it.

“Listen here, Redd. This lovely train doesnae run itself. All o' us need ta do our parts and ye slackin' off his ain't helpin' any o' us.”

The red bird dusted off his light brown suit and straightened his tie. “Don't be a stick in the mud too, Con. Why can't we ever enjoy life a bit? Ye sound like Walter.”

“Don't ye try and guilt-trip me, Redd. I wouldnae yell at ye if ye did this once or twice, but yer doin this all the time!” The yellow owl sighed. “Look, have ye seen a small toy, looks like a dinosaur, a triceratops ta be more precise.” The other bird shook his head, still looking rather annoyed.

“Nae, I was out here the whole day, saw nothin'” With a nod and slightly disappointed expression, the older brother left the caboose and went the other way instead, walking through the passenger cart. As he walked past the compartment with the science owls that Redd was supposed to tend to, he saw them standing around in a circle in awe of the strange machine that they had presumably just finished. Considering that he couldn't make heads or tails of the strange inventions of the owls, he dismissed it and just kept walking to the machine room. Once he opened the door, he slipped and nearly fell on an oil stain. “Greg, ye here?” He could see light green feathers and a bit of yellow under the engine.

“Please donnae tell me that we just lost oil, Connor, Walter is going to kill me! I heard a splat while I was working on fixin' a pipe down 'ere and, and I'm afraid that somethin' spilled.” His brother's feathers were raised and the green bird was shaking.

Greg had always been a nervous wreck. He was amazing at fixing machines, but he was very prone to being make a big deal out of small issues. Knowing this, Connor found it best to not tell Greg about the oil stain. “Nae, nothing wrong out here.” He instead grabbed a mop to clean the small oil stain that had nearly caused his face to make unwanted contract with the cold, hard iron floor of the machine room. “By the way, ye haven't seen a wee dinosaur toy by chance?” A small yelp of pain that echoed a little came from the green bird as he hit his head trying to reach his wrench.

“Cannae say that I have seen something like that. I was mostly in here, trying to fix one of our engines. I tell ye if I spot something like that.” Connor was about to leave when his brother spoke up again. “Wait, did a wee one lose their toy?! Oh no, they probably are scared that they willnae see that precious toy again! Maybe it's their support toy and they need to help them with anxiety, or, or maybe that toy is their best friend!” Connor sighed, his brother breaking into hysterics over something as trivial as a lost toy. It was kind of nice of Greg to worry about the boy, but having a second-hand panic attack in kid's stead won't help anyone.

“I gave the wee lad me hat, Greg, he's doin' fine. Just worry 'bout the engine, I'll find it.” The black-suited owl pushed the wrench within reach of his brother, who picked it up and visibly relaxed at the reassurance.

“O-Okay, Connor. I'll leave that matter ta ye for now.” With the green-feathered mass of anxiety tamed, the yellow owl entered the control room. Focused and stiff as a statue, he found Walter, who made sure that the train was keeping it's schedule and ran smoothly.

The yellow-feathered bird closed the door behind himself and watched as his brother opened the window, looking down at the item that he was searching for all this time. “Wait, Walter, donnae throw it out!” He sprinted over to his white-feathered brother who jolted and nearly dropped the triceratops toy.

“Goodness gracious, Connor! Ye nearly gave me a heart attack! I was just opening the window ta let some air in.” The yellow feathers on the younger owl flattened down after the initial shock. The white owl in a deep blue suit wondered why exactly all his brothers thought that he was some kind of cruel villain.

“I really thought ye were gonna throw the wee thing out. I've been lookin' fer that toy everywhere, a young lad lost it.” Walter nodded and handed the superhero dinosaur to his younger brother.

“Take it back to that wee child, I'm sure they miss it. Also, inform him that he should take better care of his belongings. Maybe no one can find his toy next time. Leaving an precious item at the train station could result in it bein' lost forever. ” Walter gave his signature strict glare which was aimed at the young owner of the action figure rather than his brother he was actually staring at. If only Walter knew how scary and downright threatening that expression looked, he'd understand just why small children cry every time he's around them. His regular rather stoic and cold appearance and demeanor didn't help that matter either.

“So that's where it was. I'll take the wee thing back to its owner.” His older brother looked him over, his face hardening further.

“Where's your cap, Connor? Ye know that we have a ta look proper at all cost, I thought ye of all people listened ta pa's teachings.”

Connor weakly chuckled. “Sorry, Walter. Me hat's currently on a mission ta protect the wee lad who this dino belongs ta. On that note, I really should return it soon.”As he did so, the boy jumped out of his seat the moment the yellow owl returned with the beloved green triceratops.

“You found him!” Connor got tackled into a hug and felt a sense of accomplishment after returning the lost item. The mother of the young passenger looked relieved as well, probably because her son was so distressed after losing the small object.

Connor was about to retrieve his hat, but stopped midway. He didn't have the heart to take the cap away, especially not now that he could see the joy in the face of the young bird.

As he watched the family sit down again, he got torn out of his thoughts of endearment by a large rumble and a strange feeling that he could only describe as falling, yet somehow not at the same time. His confusion was soon replaced by panic. “What's happenin'!”

[mrhyde-mrseek]

SCIENCE MOST SINISTER: VOLUME II - PART SEVEN

(God, I am so sorry for the hiatus, life happens and people get busy, y’know? But WE’RE BACK BABY WOOHOO!)

(CW: Some body horror.)

The train whistle screeched, making Griffin jump a mile into the air.

Charing Cross Station was overly crowded with travelers and commuters, all shouting at once and bumping off each other like the world’s most chaotic game of marbles. Griffin was already tense at the thought of returning to Port Burdock, and the added worry of being slammed into and discovered did nothing to relieve his stress.

Fortunately, they all made it to their two train compartments—his consisted of Gwen, Victor, Utterson, Watson, and Edmund—safely. Griffin only released his breath when the whistle blew again, and the wheels began turning.

Next to him, Victor had crossed one leg over the other and was shaking it so hard he could feel it through the seat. “Stop that,” he snapped, “or I will hit you.”

Victor planted both feet on the floor. “I can’t help it!” he protested. “Hardly any of us have left the house in a year. Am I to be blamed for being at least a little anxious?”

Utterson glanced in their direction. Griffin shrank back and fell silent. He’d hardly known the man for a full twenty-four hours, yet his stoic manner and lack of emotion in his voice or expressions made Griffin uneasy. It was obvious why Jekyll had praised his skill as a lawyer so highly; Griffin almost suspected he was gifted with some sort of mystical, truth-seeking ability.

He turned to lean against the window. The morning was a blur rushing past, city scenery slowly melting into countryside as the train chugged along, the wheels clanking rhythmically on the iron rails. The steady motion was calming. He yawned—none of them had slept much that night—and soon felt himself drifting off.

•••

Griffin threw his head back as a deranged laugh tore itself from his throat. He loomed over Kemp, practically towered over the skittish scientist. Ignoring his bullet wounds, still fresh from the day before, he leapt across the room, throwing dining chairs aside as though they weighed nothing.

The pounding on the door grew louder. Those damn officers would punch a hole through it at this rate. He ignored it. Let them knock. Someone would find Kemp’s body at some point, anyway. It would save the staff the trouble of running to fetch the authorities. Shoving Kemp against the wall, he wrapped his hands around his throat and began to squeeze. Fire blazed through his veins, white-hot and angry. He grinned, baring his teeth.

He was so consumed by his own vengeful glee that he didn’t notice that Kemp had grabbed him by the wrists until, in a feat of strength that caught him completely off guard, the scientist had slammed his foot into his stomach and shoved him backwards.

The floor slipped out from Griffin. Instead of landing on hard wood, he kept falling, down and down and down into a pitch black pit. Kemp’s dining room faded to a pinprick of light, and soon even that was swallowed up by the blackness.

A hissing started. At first he thought it was the wind, but listening closer he realized it sounded suspiciously like incoherent whispers. Fighting against gravity, he struggled to peer around through the shadows. “Show yourself!” he demanded.

“As you wish.” Griffin’s heart stopped when he heard the answering voice. No. No, no, no, no. Not that thing. Anything else but it.

With a crack, his head snapped back, bent far enough so his hair practically brushed his spine. Something was crawling around in his brain—spiders, rats, a colony of rats, scratching at his conscience with their little claws, hollowing out a hole for a nest. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, couldn’t even panic properly, because that goddamn demon was back and it was in his head again and this time it was going to kill him and he couldn’t fucking do anything to stop it—

Then he jolted straight upright with a cry, the side of his head smacking the train window hard enough for his eyes to open.

He muttered curses under his breath, rubbing his forehead, and glanced around the compartment. Victor, Gwen, Watson, Edmund, and Utterson were all staring at him with a mixture of shock and concern. “What?” he snapped.

“Were you having a nightmare?” Gwen asked. “You were mumbling to yourself.”

“And twitching in your sleep,” Victor added.

He scowled. “It hardly matters.” Changing the subject, he asked, “How close are we to Port Burdock?”

Edmund pointed out the window. “See for yourself.”

A line of rickety docks bordered the muddy blue sea. Clouds were gathering overhead, dark enough to warn against oncoming snow but pale enough to not be much of a concern. If he squinted, Griffin could see the town a few miles off in the distance, small and insignificant compared to the ice-covered fields that stretched beyond.

Watson reached over Victor and tapped his shoulder. “We should be reaching the station shortly,” he said. “I know that Sherlock will want to begin the investigation practically the moment the train comes to a stop.”

Griffin nodded, and turned back to gaze out the window at the swiftly encroaching town he thought he would never step foot in again.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Ayla shrugged, glancing over at Blaze with a nonchalant attitude, "Freya always liked being by herself... If she's not with me or Blaze..." She recalled seeing her be around Snotlout a few times, as well as the Thorston twins once in a while alongside Astrid, but never around Hiccup. "She just does what she's supposed to around Berk and then, I don't know...leaves?"

She lifted her chin, pointing towards the Sand Wrath as though he couldn't already hear her, "He's my dragon too! Until...until I get one for myself..!"

Wanting to enlighten the mood a bit, Freya glanced in the direction of Blaze as he remained on the roof, speaking in a sarcastic manner once again: "Yeah, well... I'd probably willingly lead you into a net trap back then if I did, so it's probably best I didn't go."

As she recovered from her stumbling, but not from her embarrassment, she glimpsed at Hiccup when he said her name, thankful that the darkening sky provided her the relief of not allowing him to see her reddened face. She nodded weakly at his comment, mumbling out a "You too..." Before she rushed inside.

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

Ayla was filled with excitement and anticipation for what might happen, feeling like they were doing some form of a secret mission as they went to the training grounds, "Don't worry, no matter what happens, I'll just make sure to look at Fey if she does anything extra weird and our plan will work!" She chose to follow him to lean against the railing, waving at her older sister with a wide grin.

Freya almost hadn't seen them both, acknowledging them with a faint smile before she returned her focus on the group, carefully listening to her father as he was giving one final review of everything they've learned so far. Ragnar walked up to the viking that previously told her to move out of his way, looking him over while he spoke: "You, what's your name again? You can go first since you look so..confident."

"...Arvid... it's Arvid." He spoke pointedly, appearing annoyed that his name wasn't remembered. He was given no further chance to complain as Ragnar firmly gestured at the sword he held, silently telling him to step up. "Okay, okay.." He muttered, sauntering out of the line which the rest of the group stood. Making eye contact with Freya, he didn't hide the glare that he threw her way. That, however, only made her restrain herself from laughing, glancing at Hiccup with an amused smirk.

"Okay.." She sighed out, leisurely walking up to him with a reasonable amount of distance between them, extending out her sword with a straightened arm, "Show me how you would block or counterattack this." She lowered her arm before slowly lifting it back up again to the original position she had it in, giving him a clear opportunity to do what he wished. Her eyes closely followed each of his movements as he thrusted her blade away with his, quickly pointing it at her face once he was finished.

Freya, however, caught something that he messed up on. One of his feet slightly stepped the side, allowing her the perfect opportunity to make him trip. "Good...but you made one small mistake. Do it again." She firmly commanded, raising her sword as Arvid questioningly returned to his original position. Once he repeated the same actions, he didn't see her own foot swiping underneath his, making him stumble; he was still wobbly standing, though.

'That's for talking to me like I was some sort of child.'

Assuming she would try and get the sword out of his hands first, he lifted it up so she wouldn't reach it all the way, but she roughly went to kick his leg, throwing him more off balance.

'That's for the judgmental look from my dad.'

Freya swiftly brought her sword down against his, making it fall from his grip as he too staggered onto the floor, wincing from the impact.

'And, darn it..that's for Hiccup making me have feelings for him!'

Not realizing what she had thought yet, Freya steadied her breath as she stalked up to Arvid, securing her sword back into it's covering before reaching down to grab his sword, the familiar austere expression on her face. While he tried to get up, she abruptly thrusted the tip of the blade on the floor beside him, stopping him from moving. Kneeling down next to him, she spoke, "Your movements were too sloppy, you practically gave yourself away with your first swing and you weren't looking at anything else but my weapon, bad mistake on your part."

Ragnar nodded his head in approval of what she said, agreeing with a lowered tone, "If you were really paying attention, you would've paid close attention to her feet as well, not just her sword; that's only one part of the fight, not the whole thing."

With a sudden idea in mind, Freya tightly gripped the handle of Arvid's sword, mockingly smiling at him as she established her victory, "I'm sorry, am I in your way again?" She reveled in the irritation that practically melted off his face, knowing she had proved him wrong in more ways than one.

Ragnar spoke up, preventing another fight from happening, "Alright, that's enough. We're moving on now." Finally noticing Hiccup once he was finished talking, and the small cheer Ayla did, he motioned for him to come to where they all stood with folded arms.

Hiccup shook his head with a shrug. "Honestly, Ayla? I really have no idea what I did, but...I'm glad she changed her mind, that's for sure."

At that comment, Hiccup chuckled. "The twins would've helped you do it, actually. You know they actually spent a couple days-- uhhh, you know what? That's a story for another time." He cut himself off, wanting to keep the mood light.

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

Glancing back at Ayla, he gave her a grin. "Thanks! I appreciate that!"

Freya should be a little relieved though, since part of her concerns was if Stoick joined them. Thankfully he was unable to, having to renegotiate with the traders today.

Standing beside Ayla, Hiccup watched with interest, listening to Rag ars instructions.

He definitely knows his sword work, Hiccup thought to himself. And that guy looks familiar...

While he knew everyone on Berk, it took him a bit to place this Arvid.

Then, it clicked. Oh, of course! He's the one Freya threw her knife at that day!

Oh, wait...

He's in for it now, Hiccup realized, leaning in a bit to get a better look.

The future chief couldn't help but smile at Freya's amused smirk, raising his eyebrows slightly, showing he was looking forward to seeing her put Arvid in his place.

Hiccup noticed it as well, Arvid wasn't paying close enough attention. Now, it was Freya's time to shine.

A warm smile found its way on his face as she disarmed Arvin, knocking him to the ground and using his own sword to keep him there.

His dad was right. Freya would probably make a great Chieftess someday...

Realizing the thought that just came through his mind, his eyes widened slightly, and he blinked in surprise.

Just as he managed to...feel normal again, he noticed Ragnar beckoning him forward.

Nodding, he made his way towards Ragnar and the others, standing next to Freya.

"What can I do?"