#I had a lot of fun even though tumblr has fought me every step of the way trying to post this

[wish-i-had-robin-wings]

Hiya, @maxi-pants! Sorry tumblr just ate your ask response, I promise I said something clever.

Anyways! Here's your blog team, based on your chill/cool guy vibes!

I hope you like it! 💙✨💕✨💙

[whump-a-la-mode]

A Rather Odd Heist AKA The Trophy Room

Hi! I don’t know what this is and I have (at the time of writing) work in four hours! I had this idea in a daydream and just had to get it down in writing.

I apologize if the formatting is weird. I usually write in the tumblr text editor but this was written in docs.

CW//Threats, talk of injury, talk of disease, poison, death threats, descriptions of pain, restraints, medical emergencies, collars, chains, dehumanization, being kept as a trophy

    The wound felt like disease.

    It was a long slash, started at the front of Hero’s chest, just below the clavicle, and extending to the middle of their shoulder blade. The pain was white hot, tearing through skin and into sensitive flesh below, but more than that, even as the wound was carved, the feeling of infection, of poison, seeping in was overwhelming. 

    They lost the balance from the pain alone, slamming into the worn tile floor of the subway platform with a crack from their cheekbone. 

    Their assailant, on the other hand, landed with far more grace, on their feet. Hibou’s claws, wicked constructions of metal that had clearly recently been to the whetting stone, curled inwards towards their palm. Not far, though. The twelve inch long weapons constricted their movement, not that they minded. The aluminum feathers attached to their rust-painted goggles twitched with amusement.

    “I really thought they’d sent someone with a little more skill in… standing.” They smirked, though it stretched their mouth far too wide, enough to make Hero uncomfortable. “Do they not teach you that at HQ?”

    Hero grumbled out a half-hearted reply that even they were unable to make out. After a moment of catching their breath, they scrambled to their feet; every movement of their shoulder sending a new wave of agony through the marred flesh. 

    They met Hibou’s gaze (or, at least, the black lenses of their goggles), holding it for a long moment. The world around them took a shuddering breath as a weak gust of wind managed to find its way into the abandoned subway tunnel. 

    Through Hero’s mind ran half a dozen half-baked plans. Diversions and threats they could carry out, attacks they could make. None would work, certainly, but it occupied their panic-addled mind until the footsteps sounded behind them.

    They dared not spin around and let Hibou out of their sight, but they were acutely aware of the two pairs of feet, one on either side, approaching to surround them.

    “This one was spying.” Hibou glanced to one of the unseen figures, the one on Hero’s right. “And you know what they thought would be a good hiding spot? You wanna know?”

    “Course we wanna know.” The voice had a snakelike quality to it, hissed out between fangs.

    “The catwalk! The broken down catwalk. You always said that if anyone ever walked up there it’d fall, and guess what! You were right.”

    A barrier of cackling penned Hero in on all sides for a moment. The slash on their shoulder didn’t seem to be bleeding, but the pinpricks of disease refused to stop.

    “So, that begs the question.” Hibou continued. “What are we going to do with them?”

    Hero felt as though a wire was tightened around their neck. In a motion that surprised even themself, they leapt onto the tracks, running along the rusty metal for a moment before attempting to struggle their way out of the other side.

    The cold, scaly hand gripped them before they had any chance to do so. With a horrifying strength, and a bold show of it, the hand threw them up, slamming them onto their back. A clawed hand pressed to their chest, foot-long blades threatening to prick into their skin. Those rusty goggles stared down at them in a way that seemed almost playful.

    It was supposed to be a simple mission, they couldn’t help but recall as they lay there, well-sharpened blades likely only a few inches of flesh away from their rapidly beating heart. 

    Despite their seniority within the Heroes’ Organization, the amount of solo missions they were assigned to was low. Extremely so. Even lower than that of some of the recruits and cadets. Most would have been bothered by the fact-- fearing that their superiors thought them to be worthless or not good enough. That fear didn’t apply to Hero, however.

    No. They knew exactly why they spent most of their days stalking around base, chatting with the medical staff or the engineers.

    After all, healing powers wouldn’t get you very far in a fight.

    Hell, they hadn’t even been supposed to go on this particular spying mission in the first place. Yet, of course, the cadet who was meant to take the simple job had broken their leg in a training accident. 

    It had sounded simple. Almost deceptively so-- as if there should have been something more to the whole thing. But, no. It was exactly as easy as it had been drawn out to be. Sneak into the villains’ temporary base, find out their numbers and exactly what kind of weaponry they possessed, and report back.

    They could have done it in an afternoon. But they just had to have taken the chance with the catwalk. They could have run, they’d had the chance, but…

    They’d been too scared. That was the other reason they were always stuck at base. They were a coward. The mission directors knew it.

    “What, hey, don’t die on me yet. That’d be boring.”

    Hibou’s voice cut through their swirling thoughts. Their eyes focused on the empty goggles looming above them.

    “And I hate when things are boring. So, answer my question.”

    “I- w- wh-”

    “Ugh. I said, what should we do with you?”

    “L- L-”

    “Come on, use your words.”

    “Let me go.” It croaked out of their parched throat like a forced tear. “Please.”

    “Oh, well, since you said please…” They rolled their eyes. “How about this. Let’s put it to a vote. This is a democracy, after all.”

    Next to Hibou’s goggled face appeared two more. One sharp and scaled around the eyes, the other with hair that hung down in wet mats. Akula and Zema. 

    “So, guys, what do you think? What should we do with them?”

    Hero felt to be a rabbit surrounded by cats.

    “Hey, boss?” Zema-- the scaled one-- spoke up. “What’s that on their shoulder?”

    “Hm?” Though their eyes could not be seen, Hero just knew that, in that moment, they lit up. “Oh, that. Now that is a good idea, Zema.”

    “Wh- What did you do to me!” Hero fought to jerk upwards, but was only met with a sharp hand forcing them back down. 

    “Oh, you know…” Hibou raised their other hand, the one not holding their captive down. The claws curled into as close to a fist as they could get. “When you came in to interrupt me and my work, I was just finishing up a special batch of… hm… what would a layman call it. A biopoison, I believe.”

    Hero choked.

    “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that, huh? That’s what you get for interrupting my work.”

    “So… they’re just gonna die?” Akula questioned.

    “Hm? Oh, I mean, without intervention, yes. Not immediately, though I could arrange that.” Ever so slightly, the claws moved towards Hero’s neck. “I guess we should probably just do that.”

    “W- Wait!” Hero gasped. “If it’s going to, uh, if it’s going to kill me anyways, then why not just let me go? It doesn’t matter either way, right?”

    Hibou smiled that horrible, wide smile.

    “You know, the little coward has a point. That’d be a lot more fun. You don’t want to die, though, do you?”

    One of those claws curled beneath Hero’s chin, forcing it upwards with the blunt end. It didn’t cut, but they knew that with any false move, it would.

    “No.” They managed to croak out.

    “So… hm. There’s something you want, and you can only get it from me. And, well, now that I think about it, there might just be something that you have that I want. Now, that sounds like a fair trade, doesn’t it?”

    “What is it? Please, anything. A- anything.”

    “That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. Hero, I think you know exactly what I want.”

    “N- No. I don’t.”

    “Of course you do.” The claw pushed their chin up even further, pressing the back of their head against the tile. “I want my kid back.”

    Hero’s eyes widened. They felt bile rise in their throat.

    “I can’t.”

    “Well, then, you’ll die. Easy as that.”

    “W- Wait-”

    “To me, it sounds like a very fair trade, Hero. We’ve had to spend so long watching our friend suffer… slowly rot away. And now, your friends will have to do the same. It’ll be easier for you, though. Your eyes will melt out of your skull far before the real gross stuff happens.”

    Hero gulped, feeling their throat press far too close to Hibou’s claws.

    “Is there any other way?”

    “Hmm… No. I don’t think so. Here’s my final offer, right now: You bring me my kid back. They’ll know where to find me. Then, I give you the antidote. Either that, or I cut your head off, here and now. I’ll even mail it back to your HQ, just as a little gift.”

    “I-”

    Hero felt their chest shudder. The sweat dripping from their forehead had long since dampened their hair. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just some recon. Just a simple mission.

    But…

    “Okay. I accept.”

    “Good.”

    The pressure lifted almost immediately, finally allowing Hero to once again breathe. They scrambled to their feet, and were almost halfway out of the abandoned platform when they heard Hibou yell from behind:

    “The rash should start in about twelve hours! Just so you know!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It was the nature of a hunter to keep trophies of those that they had killed.

    Of course, not in the wild. In the wild, animals were simply content to fill their bellies. The only trophy needed of their hunting was the fact that they were still well and alive.

    Humans, however, did not have such a luxury. Survival was not a prize to be shown off. So, other methods had to be found. Trophies had to be taken. 

    Taken and displayed.

    No one questioned the scarf that Hero had wrapped tightly about their neck, despite the fact that it was the dead of summer. They had no time to question it. The other inhabitants of the Headquarters of the Heroes’ Organization had their own duties to complete, and not a second to spare in completing them.

    So, Hero found no difficulty in walking through the front doors, every step they took threatening to aggravate the already agonizing wound on their shoulder. 

    After a few steps, they found themself in the center of the entrance lobby, legs stiffened. Hibou’s words echoed in their mind, sharper than their blades, as their head tipped upwards. Their gaze raised to the trophy room.

    That was what everyone called it, anyways. It wasn’t so much of a room as much as it was a glass cylinder, sticking out from the railing of the upper floor. On first seeing it, cadets often panicked, fearing that it would fall at any moment. It appeared simply that precarious, even though it was, supposedly, practically indestructible. Even the glass itself was rated to withstand nuclear attack.

    There was a reason for that.

    The cylinder was rather large, maybe 20 feet in diameter. However, the vast majority of it was taken up by chains-- four of them, one from each side. Heavy iron things, each link likely too heavy to be lifted on its own. The four chains all converged at one point in the center.

    The trophy.

    Villain wasn’t a particular strong person. They may have been before their capture, but any strength they had had been long since drained away. They weren’t particularly tall, to begin with, but from the angle, they looked miniscule.

    The iron collar around their neck, resting heavily on their shoulders and collarbone, was the center point of the chains. Each hooked onto one side of the collar.

    Villain’s seated position pulled the chains practically completely taut, the weight of iron resting completely and totally on their neck. The pressure would have been less had they stood, but they had stopped doing that a long time ago.

    The grey cotton prisoner uniform had about as much color to it as their face.

    Hero couldn’t say they knew the story of Villain’s capture, nor what had warranted it. The trophy room had been there as long as they had been part of the organization. They supposed it was odd, just how quickly they had gotten used to it. The trophy room and the trophy it held were simply a part of HQ.

    If Villain were to disappear for a second, everyone in the building could and would notice it. 

    Hibou’s kid… Of course, they were truly related. They seemed about the same age. But the fondness with which those horrid villains spoke about their friend…

    Hero shook their head. If they kept acting like this, they’d get dragged to the infirmary with a thermometer shoved in their mouth in an instant. They began forward again, headed towards the staging room.

    They didn’t have any missions scheduled for the day, not that they knew of at least, and they were glad for that. Still, they had their unofficial duty, preparing the other heroes for their missions. 

    The staging room sat behind a pair of steel doors, requiring a retina scan to pass through, which Hero passed easily. The doors slid open as they stepped through, already feeling a dozen pairs of eyes lock to them. 

    Colloquially, the place was often referred to as the locker room, both literally and as a joke. Lockers lined the walls, while benches filled the rest, except for at the very front, where a pair of tables were well stocked with snacks, drinks, and basic medical supplies.

    After a second, most of the heroes looked down, having been satisfied that there was no threat. The only one that kept their head up was Teammate, who quickly waved Hero over. They obliged without thinking, sitting next to them on their bench. 

    “What’s up?” Hero questioned. Teammate didn’t respond for a moment, as they were pulling a sweater off over their head. When they were finished, they replied:

    “Eh, I’m good. What’s with the scarf?”

    “‘Tis called fashion.”

    “Fair enough.”

    “Where are you headed out to?”

    “Patrolling a hospital, they had a threat or something. You?”

    “I don’t do missions.” They did their best to accompany it with a smile.

    “You did yesterday, didn’t you?”

    “Yeah.”

    “How’d that go?’

    “Eh, it was fine. Spying missions are boring.”

    “There’s no lie there. Anyways, um, when I was fighting yesterday I kinda got this cut-”

    “Where?”

    “Right here, on my leg.”

    Teammate leaned down, rolling up one of their pant legs to knee height. Sure enough, across their shin, a wicked scar carved its red mark. Hero hardly thought about it as they placed a hand on the wound.

    A green glow emanated from their palm, flowing and wrapping around the injured leg. The wound’s ragged edges solidified with scar tissue, before knitting themselves together.

    It was so simple. A grievous wound, dealt with in an instant.

    Of course, that was all they could do. Healing powers weren’t magic, not really. They couldn’t bring back the dead. They could only accelerate what the body already had the ability to do. A cold? Gone in a second? A biopoison?

    Well, they couldn’t bring back the dead.

    The wound finished its knitting, and Hero withdrew their hand. Teammate offered a quick smile, speaking:

    “Thanks so much, see ya’ later!”

    Before running off. Off on a mission. Off doing something important.

    Something good.

    Hero slumped forward on the bench, feeling a horrible exhaustion overtake them. When the call for their help came, they weren’t exactly surprised. It was quick, short, simply:

    “Is Hero here? I need Hero.”

    They raised their head, expecting to see a cadet who had hit their arm or something.

    Instead, standing halfway in the doorway, face a mask of panic, stood a person in a lab coat. They clutched themself, arms around their chest, trembling visible from halfway across the room. They met Hero’s gaze.

    “Come on, come on. Quickly, please.”

    There was nothing in their voice but panic. Even urgence was drowned out by sheer fear. Hero was on their feet in an instant, on the heels of the doctor who was moving at the same speed. They ran, together, all the way to the medical wing, on the other side of the floor.

    From there, they moved along a small catwalk, leading to-

    Hero didn’t even look up to realize the destination until they were already there.

    The only access to the trophy room was a small, horribly narrow catwalk. A horde of doctors was already flooding it, but they moved out of Hero’s way without question. The first doctor stopped in front of the door to the glass cylinder, which was sealed with just about every type of lock known to man.

    “They’re unresponsive.” The explanation was quick, curt. “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “What?”

    “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “I-”

    “Here, here, I-”

    “Why do I need a hazmat suit!”

    “It’s not safe in there, you can’t go in without one.”

    Hero’s gaze darted to the interior of the cylinder. Half of the chain had gone taut, while the other two were slack, on account of the fact that Villain had slumped over, all their weight supported only by the collar around their neck. In the little visible skin that the collar revealed, horrible red marks could be gleaned.

    “They look like they’re dead.” They whispered in horror. “Why do I need a hazmat suit?”

    “Their powers, they’ll hurt you.”

    “Even when they’re unconscious?”

    “Well, no, but-”

    Hero’s hands latched onto one of the padlocks, straining against it, trying to pull the metal apart. It did nothing, of course. They didn’t have superstrength. But it simply felt like the right thing to do.

    Eventually, someone handed them a key, then another, and another after that, until every lock on the door was opened. They swung it open, leaping inside, heart in their ears. Every panicked beat sent a new shock of diseased pain through their shoulder.

    Ducking and stepping over chains, they maneuvered until they were at Villain’s side. Their first thought was to check for a pulse-- it was weak, but there.

    They gritted their teeth.

    Hero was going to save Hibou’s kid, and by god, neither of them were going to die.

[c0rpsedemon]

hiiii can u please advise me on where to start with reading arthuriana ? i am fascinated by it and love it very much , but i just read arthurian encyclopedias and such … i would like to read actual texts if that makes sense . thank u :-)

!!!!!! don't worry you make perfect sense and i'd absolutely love to give you a few starter text recommendations, i'm going to link ways to read all of them online bc physical copies are uh. incredibly hard to come by for most texts. also, brace yourself for fifty wildly different variants of each name, usually there's some sort of appendix you can read to know who's who, or you can rely on context clues.

first off i legally have to recommend the byelorussian tristan bc it's. kinda a part of my brand. and my favorite book... ever, even outside of arthurian stuff. it's believed to be one of, if not the last entry in the arthurian canon, and certainly in the tristian canon, and it's so good. it's a retelling of a lost slavic text that was a retelling of tavola ritonda, the italian retelling of the prose tristan. it's really well-written and the only version of the tristan and isolde story where they both get to live, highlights include galehalt basically asking tristan to join his marriage (i say marriage in reference to his relationship with lancelot bc theyre kinda. uh. bfs would be an understatement), palomydes having two swords (it's bc he's That skilled at fighting and also bc he's bisexual) as well as lending one of those swords to tristan, galahad briefly showing up to fight tristan and lancelot, then getting embarrassed that he fought his dad and just? dying or something?? and the worst kei name variant out there (geush.....). overall, i have to recommend this one bc if it had been my starter text i know i would have immediately read every medieval text i could find, and bc it's the text that actually made me like tristan.

also i'd like to note that tavola ritonda, the byelorussian tristan's italian predecessor is pretty good if i remember correctly, i never finished it bc i got busy with school stuff but i know i liked what i did read of it and that a lot of arthurian tumblr would recommend it. if i wasn't on green knight lockdown i'd probably pick it back up right now.

other tristan-related recs include chevrefoil by marie de france, it's incredibly short and makes me kinda sad for unknown reasons, it's also what got me invested in tristan and isolde's relationship, strassburg's tristan, yet another text i started and then dropped bc of school related reasons, i remember i liked what i read of it though, trystan and esyllt, a welsh tristan and isolde text which is. incredibly different from the normal tristan and isolde story, but it's short, lighthearted and fun in the way welsh texts are, and uhhhh the prose tristan which i mentioned earlier, i've read the whole thing and it didn't really stand out to me (albeit its been a while) but it's what most people will point you to if you want to get into tristan and isolde.

stepping away from tristan and isolde, there's culwch and olwen, which is believed to be the first arthurian text, it's kinda short and fun in the way that welsh texts always are, it's about this kid whose stepmother cursed him to only be able to marry the daughter of this giant, who will never let her marry bc there's some curse that says he'll die on her wedding day, so the giant gives this giant list of impossible tasks and arthur, culwch, kei and co. set out to do them and only like. 3. are actually mentioned more than once. it's fun and i like welsh kei.

next are the dutch texts which are. so good. they're so good. they're all right here bc i don't feel like linking each different one. my first rec is lancelot and the hart with the white foot, which, despite being named after lancelot, is really about gawaine. it's short and fun and the remarkable (lancelot x gawaine) fans adore it. next is the roman van walewein which is. absolutely off the rails. basically this magic chessboard shows up in arthur's court and walewein (gawaine) has to go after it, he ends up murdering a bunch of people, there's a talking fox who tries to steal gawaine's armor, gawaine gets thrown in his love-interest-of-the-week's torture dungeon, which has a secret tunnel connecting it to said love interest's rooms which she apparently had the arcitect of drowned (which is treated like a perfectly fine and normal thing by the text btw) where they presumably do bdsm or something, gringolet (gawaine's horse) kills a dragon with his hooves, it's wild. then there's walewein ende keye, kei tries to get rid of gawaine, gawaine goes and proves his honor, kei gets banished, gawine's a bit of an unlikable prick in this one but it's entertaining. and then there's morien, it's about this 13 year old who shows up looking for his deadbeat dad and gawaine and lancelot help him out, gawaine hijacks the plot but it gets back to morien by the end, also they have to rescue arthur. there are more dutch texts but these are just my favorites.

this has gotten longer than i originally intended so uhhh there's lanval by marie de france which is short. guinnevere's homophobic but in a funny way.

then there are the big famous ones and why they're bad starter texts, le morte de arthur and sir gawain and the green knight. le morte's giant and in middle english, if you must read it go for a translation, i've heard good things about this one but i haven't read it, overall it's not that good, especially in comparison with the vulgate and alliterative morte, don't read it unless you're already familiar with med lit and really invested in the characters, it's good for the book of gareth and a few short parts but overall kinda eh. as for sgatgk, it's just not a good first gawaine text bc he's so wildly different than he is in literally everything else, here are a ton of translations, it's best to go into it with the point of view that it was his first quest and looking for the themes and symbolism (gawaine fox motif my beloved) instead of the common approach which is looking for the gay kisses bc you'll get a lot more out of it that way.

i'd also like to anti recommend a solid 3/4s of modern arthuriana, especially anything derived from the *nce and f*ture k*ng by th wh*te or the m*sts of av*lon by m*rion z*mmer br*dley bc jfc those two have done. so much harm. to the genre. "modern" works i'd recommend usually tend more towards victorian poetry, highlights including anything by tennyson that doesn't involve tristan and isolde bc he has bad takes on them, but especially his stuff regarding elayne of astolat/the lady of shallot, bedevere, and gareth and lynnette, as well as everything by william morris but especially sir galahad a christmas mystery and palomydes's quest. you can find pretty much any victorian poem on the camelot project so i'm not going to go looking for them. also i've heard good things about ea robinson's poetry. but despite the few good modern works out there, it's best to get rid of all pop-culture based notions of what arthuriana is before you go into the actual canon.

i feel like i'm going to remember at least three texts i left out like an idiot but this has gotten long enough, if you have anymore questions just ask i absolutely love introducing people to arthuriana.

[aliferous-ly]

gasp -- a fic?? on MY tumblr??? more likely than you think

/

this is from an art trade with the absolutely lovely bastard @buddh-art​. madlad

here’s a link to the art O.O it’s SO PRETTY. WHAT. (LOOK AT IT BEFORE READING IT WILL HELP INTRO VISUALIZATION I PROMISE)

ao3 link!!

warnings: blood, the girls are FIGHTINgGGG (okay but physical fights fr), swearing

fandom/pairings: haikyuu/gen

prompt: “I’m going to kill them for punching you before I ever got to.” ft kuroo and bokuto, dumbass duo extraordinaire, and akaashi (plus some cameos)

“I’m going to kill them for punching you before I ever got to.” Kuroo cracks his knuckles. 

“Oho?” Bokuto grins, teeth glinting in the fluorescent lighting. He’s pressing a wad of tissues against his cheekbone and nose, the edges of his lips hidden behind white. “Kill?” 

Bokuto’s joking, behind the pain pulsing against his skin, but there’s this look in Kuroo’s eye that he doesn’t quite trust. No, that’s not it. He’s just never seen it before. He trusts Kuroo with everything. 

Akaashi says he’s stupid for doing so but lots of people say he’s stupid anyway. Trusting Kuroo has only burned him like, a dozen times, and half of them Kuroo was burned too. Bros burn together. 

Anyway. Anyway. Bokuto’s laughing and Kuroo’s not, so there’s something wrong. 

Kuroo shoots him a look and Bokuto’s laughter dries up in his throat. The edges of his lips droop. “Bro, it’s fine.” 

Kuroo’s mouth upturns into a sneer and Bokuto takes a step back. He’s never had Kuroo’s full frontal disdain directed at him and it’s kindof… it’s not… it’s not nice? It’s really… 

Bokuto swallows.

 The discomfort must shine on his face because Kuroo’s gaze flickers, startled, as he realizes where his scorn is directed. 

“Shit, dude,” Kuroo says. A hand rubs against his face and he sighs, long and loud. “Fucking who punched you?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says. His voice is a little muffled. Next to him, Akaashi releases a quiet huff of breath. Akaashi’s slender, cool fingers brush against his cheek, pulling at his hand. 

Bokuto realizes how harshly he’s been pressing the tissues against his cheek, how there’s a numb scratch of pain, how the tissues stick to his face when he tries to pull them away. There’s a slight sludge of blood, since they caught his face, but he doesn’t -- it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. He’s fine. So why’s… “It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says again, stubborn. He tries for another grin. “Sad you weren’t there to enjoy the party?”

Kuroo is a quiet energy. Bokuto’s known this, it’s why they fit so perfectly together. Why they make such good friends, why every moment is exhilarating and fun. Kuroo is quiet and sharp, the double edged sword to Bokuto’s war hammer. The shield with jagged edges. While Bokuto wears his emotions on the outer edges of his skin, Kuroo keeps it all tucked away behind his ribcage, gradually building a fire. Stoking embers. He has a quiet anger, a soft fury. 

Bokuto never thinks too much about it. Not really. Bokuto laughs but it’s not… because Kuroo turns towards him with his quiet anger boiling in his eyes and it doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. 

Kuroo steps towards him, his testy expression juxtaposing his gentle touch against Bokuto’s face. Bokuto lets him trail fingers along his temple, eyebrows furrowing as Kuroo presses the softest of pressures against the wound. 

It doesn’t hurt. Well, maybe in theory. Bokuto’s too focused on Kuroo’s expression to feel anything. Akaashi seems to fade into the background, his administration a soothing backdrop to Kuroo’s soft blaze. 

“Who punched you?” Kuroo says. He looks like he’s about to punch Bokuto, too, and Bokuto doesn’t know if he would dodge it at this point. Whether for personal reasons or otherwise. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says. To Kuroo, this is the wrong thing to say, but Bokuto is immovable. 

Kuroo glares at him, and Bokuto glares right back. 

Kuroo swells up and Bokuto thinks, this is it, hunker down, prepare for a mean right hook. His eyes flicker shut instinctively, shoulders tensing. Bokuto is anything if not solid. He can take it. Throw it at me!

Well. That’s what you said before, too, and they certainly dished out what you could take. Maybe more… 

But it doesn’t matter, because it’s over, and Bokuto isn’t going to enact revenge or something. He fought, they fought, it’s over. 

Fear flutters against his throat. He can almost imagine the starburst of pain from Kuroo. He knows exactly what it might feel like, he’s seen it often enough. Even if he’s never personally experienced it, it was bound to happen eventually. 

Nothing happens. Bokuto’s eyes flick open, and Kuroo is three steps away. He’s staring at Bokuto with this devastatingly haunted expression. 

Bokuto frowns. “Bro. Chill out.” 

“I’m not actually going to punch you right now, what the fuck?” Kuroo spits. They’re equally startled at Kuroo’s outburst. “You’re wounded!” 

“Yeah, so?” Bokuto says. He touches his cheek absentmindedly. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is a fucking big deal! Akaashi, tell him it’s a big deal,” Kuroo swivels on their third party. 

Akaashi, to his credit, doesn’t flinch when faced with fire and ice all at once, Kuroo and Bokuto’s gazes cutting into his soul. In fact, he takes his time answering, seemingly unbothered. “Bokuto does downplay genuine trouble. But you’re not in your right mind, either, Kuroo.” 

“I’m perfectly calm,” Kuroo says, each word falling like a bullet. Akaashi stares at him and Kuroo shifts his gaze, lip jutting out. 

“Bokuto, sit down,” Akaashi says. Bokuto listens, dropping down on the couch. Akaashi is like water, he muses. If he’s going to make metaphors about all of his friends anyway. 

Kuroo’s lava, his heavy burn, settles on Bokuto’s skull. “Tell me so I can pay back the favor.” 

"No,” Bokuto says. He sticks his tongue out for emphasis and Akaashi flicks his temple. “Ouch! Akaashi, I’m mortally wounded, and you’re abusing me.” 

“Get over yourself,” Akaashi says. Bokuto blinks and knows there’s an undercurrent of worry, even if he can’t quiet hear it. He misses a lot of subtleties. Whatever. It’s fine. 

“Akaashi,” Kuroo stretches the name, leaning forward into Akaashi’s space. “You know, don’t you?” 

“Well, I did find him first,” Akaashi says. 

Bokuto and Akaashi alike quickly realize this is the wrong thing to say. 

“Find?” Kuroo repeats. “You found him?” 

Bokuto swallows and tries for a grin. “Man, you know me! Fight til I drop.” 

“Do you need to go to the hospital--?” 

“No!” 

The three of them fall silent and Bokuto swallows, trying to sooth his rapidly beating heart. “No. I’m fine. I’m serious, Kuroo, chill.” 

Telling lava to chill, understandably, is amusing. Kuroo laughs at him. Then he turns on his heel and leaves. 

It strikes a little deeper than Bokuto thinks it should. 

“He left,” Bokuto says. He knows it’s a dumb thing to say, he knows. Akaashi doesn’t make fun of him. 

But Kuroo… 

“Shirt,” Akaashi says. Bokuto jerks as Akaashi tugs at the fabric. Pain pricks as his shirt moves and Bokuto bites back a whine. He’s not weak. Eyes up here, he’d laughed, pointing at his face when they took a shot at his side. 

Stupid. Whatever. 

“I’m not your mom,” Akaashi says. His fingers are smooth as he directs Bokuto’s arms up, tugging his shirt off. 

“My mom hasn’t helped me change in forever,” Bokuto mumbles, like that means anything. Akaashi hums anyway. A short tsk drops from his lips when the plane of Bokuto’s chest is revealed, his spotted sides. 

It’s not bad. It’s not bad at all, Bokuto assures himself. He doesn’t bruise easily, so -- wait, no, that means it’s awful, so he must bruise really easily. That’s kinda lame, though, isn’t it--?

A sharp pain pricks from his side, squeezing a hiss from Bokuto’s lips. He avoids Akaashi’s stare, which is somehow harsher than a glare. “‘S fine.” 

Akaashi sighs. “Stay still.” 

Bokuto feels his mood slipping and grips at it. Akaashi has told him time and time again that his mood swings aren’t a sign of failure. That the spiral of depression is only pushed further when he thinks about how lame it is that he drops. How he can’t do anything. Immovable force in the worst way possible. 

Akaashi starts applying a bruise cream. It’s like Akaashi’s touch. Soothing. Comforting. 

“Kuroo hates me,” Bokuto says. It’s not what he means. Kuroo wouldn’t get angry if he hated Bokuto. 

There’s a beat, then: “Hates that someone else got a shot first, maybe.” 

Bokuto snorts, in spite of himself. “Scale of one to ten how jealous do you think Kuroo is that somebody punched me and got away with it?” 

“I wouldn’t say they got away with it,” Akaashi hums. “You hit them back.” 

“That I did,” Bokuto says. The coolness of pleasure buoys his depression, just for the time being. He leans back, smug confidence oozing from his pores. Then he shoots upright, dislodging Akaashi. “Oh my god! AKAASHI!” 

“Mm?”

“I didn’t say you should’ve seen the other guy! Call Kuroo back in here!” Bokuto stands. “I gotta grab him! I missed my chance!” 

“Do not,” Akaashi says. 

Bokuto doesn’t hear him, searching for his shoes so he can go find Kuroo right now. 

Flames dart up his back and he yelps. Akaashi jabbed him right on a bruise on his back. “Akaashi!” 

Akaashi has that look on his face, the one that says listen to me right now or you will regret it. 

Bokuto groans. “But Akaashi…” 

“Just call him.” 

“He won’t pick up--!” A second of silence. Then, “Okay, Akaashi.” 

Bokuto sighs. He sits back down. Let’s Akaashi continue taking care of him. 

He calls Kuroo, but he doesn’t pick up. 

---

Kuroo isn’t stupid. When he saw Bokuto’s wide grin, the smile from eye to eye, he knew something was wrong. 

Not from Bokuto. Bokuto has a freaky way of covering up his serious pains. Kuroo’s pretty sure the denial just runs so deep he manages to convince himself that everything’s fine, that he’s fine, so everyone else is convinced. 

No, Bokuto didn’t tip him off. 

Akaashi did. 

Akaashi doesn’t mean to, and someone who doesn’t know Akaashi might have missed it. But he read the sharp worry in the crease of Akaashi’s eyes, the wiry tension in his neck, the tightness of his lips. Kuroo knows that Bokuto wasn’t okay when Akaashi found him. 

Which is why it pisses him off how nonchalant Bokuto is about the entire situation. 

Kuroo ignores the missed call from Bokuto and calls Tsukishima. He doesn’t pick up the first time but does on the second. 

“What do you want.” 

“Aw, I’m doing great, thanks Tsukki!” 

“Do not call me that.” 

“Hey, you saw Bokuto today, right? Like, an hour ago?” 

There’s a static of silence. “Why?” 

“See anyone with him?” 

“Just Nakajima.” 

“Thanks,” Kuroo says. He hangs up, wincing. He’ll get Tsukishima’s full pissy mood the next time they meet because of that, but he’s on a mission. 

Nakajima. Kuroo frowns. Does he know anything about Nakajima? 

He gets another phone call and is about to cancel it when he sees second prettiest setter flash across the screen. 

He answers. 

“Kuroo,” Akaashi says amicably. There’s a quiet wail on the other side of the phone and Kuroo pulls the phone away for a second, staring at it in surprise. Then he sticks it back against his ear, catching the tail end of what Akaashi was saying. “--and you should probably come back.” 

“Hm? I have to hunt down Nakajima.” 

“You know his name,” Akaashi says. He says it not like oh thank god, let me help, but more like goddamn it, another problem for me to fix. Which offends Kuroo, but just a little bit. “Great. Do you know where he is?” 

It’s a challenge. “No, but--”

“Then you won’t find him.” 

“I’ll just search the city, it’s not that hard.” 

“Kuroo, I know your stubborn streak rivals Bokuto’s--” there’s a thump on the other end, then Akaashi’s voice returns, “--but it really would be in both of your best interests for you to return.” 

“I wasn’t joking when I said I would kill whoever got to punch him first,” Kuroo says. 

“I understand. But--” 

Whatever else Akaashi says is lost in the static of Kuroo’s mind, which whites out the moment he spots someone stumbling down the sidewalk, nursing a bloody nose. He doesn’t know Nakajima personally, but he has seen the little bitch before. 

“I’ll call you back,” Kuroo says, and shoves his phone in his pocket, barely remembering to end the call. He’s really getting on a lot of people’s bad side. He’s always on people’s bad side, though, so he doesn’t really care. 

Nakajima’s limping, which. In Bokuto’s defense, he does look worse for wear. 

Kuroo doesn’t give a shit. He stalks towards him, shoving his hands in his pockets. He stops directly in his path, staring at him down his nose, lip curled. “Nakajima.” 

Nakajima looks up at him, gaze flickering with recognition, then irritation. “You’re Koutarou’s friend.” 

The name flicks a switch in Kuroo and he loses it, the swing of his arm familiar as he cuts into Nakajima’s jaw. Nakajima jerks to the left, dropping and landing awkwardly on his arm. 

“What the hell, man…?” Nakajima raises a hand to adjust his jaw, eyebrows furrowed angrily. 

Kuroo doesn’t really know. He just knows that an unrighteous fury took over his soul the moment Nakajima dropped Bokuto’s first name. Bokuto’s first name is important, and only the right people are allowed to call him by name. Especially to other people. Who the fuck does Nakajima think he is? 

“Don’t call him that,” Kuroo says simply. The words are acid on his tongue, burning his throat. “If you know what’s good for you.” 

“Oh, so you’re threatening me, great.” Nakajima pushes to his feet. “Did he put you up to this? Upset he lost a little and decided to sick his dog on me?” 

Kuroo’s flaming anger flickers and recedes. He inhales, waits for Nakajima to put himself back together. Watches blandly as Nakajima wipes blood off of his lip. Kuroo’s ire is viscous and glowing, lava sludging through caverns. 

“Aw, little bud is angry he doesn’t have friends to back him up,” Kuroo says. He cools his voice off as much as he can, falling into easy disdain. “Frustrated, Jiji?” Kuroo leans into his space, peering at his eyes. 

Nakajima swallows, glaring. “The fuck is your problem?” 

“You are my problem,” Kuroo says. He looks Nakajima up and down, curling his lip. “Unfortunately.” 

“Koutarou got what was--” 

This time Kuroo aims for the base of his sternum. Nakajima drops like a box of rocks. He takes much longer to rise than before, air squeezing through his lungs in rasps. He lunges at Kuroo, who side steps easily. “Easy solution. Leave Bokuto’s name out of your filthy mouth and leave him alone, and we won’t have a problem.” 

“You realize he made the first swing?” Nakajima says, gasping. 

“I don’t give a shit,” Kuroo says. “If he made the first swing then you’re a real shit person. I should take you down right now.” 

Nakajima whirls, hand shooting out. It wraps around Kuroo’s neck and squeezes. 

Kuroo takes a shot at the inside of Nakajima’s elbow, ducking down and pressing his chin against Nakajima’s hand at the same moment. He swoops Nakajima’s foot too far to the right and drives his knee upwards. 

Kuroo winces despite himself as Nakajima groans, falling once again, hands falling lax. 

“Leave him alone,” Kuroo says. He thinks about pushing him over, grinding his heel into Nakajima’s throat. The thought passes. “You hear me?” 

“You’re fucking crazy.” Nakajima moans. 

“Do you understand what I am saying?” Kuroo says. He considers driving his knee against his back, pressing him against the ground. 

“Jesus christ, yes, I’ll leave him fucking alone.” 

It’s not enough. It’s never enough. 

But his phone is ringing again, so he turns on his heel and stalks away. 

---

“Kuuuuroooooooo,” Bokuto whines, throwing himself on Kuroo the moment he walks in. There’s a dull ache in his side as he nearly smothers Kuroo, but obviously greeting his best bud is more important. 

“Aw, miss me?” Kuroo snickers and detaches himself from Bokuto. 

Bokuto frowns. “Obviously. I want to go throw some volleyballs around. Akaashi can set!” 

“No I will not,” Akaashi says from the couch. 

“He will.” 

“Bo, you shouldn’t be practicing right now,” Kuroo laughs. He pokes Bokuto in the forehead. 

Bokuto stares at him, then lunges forward, knocking their foreheads together with a clack. 

“Ow, what the fuck,” Kuroo yelps. 

Bokuto grinds his teeth together and wraps his arms around Kuroo and clings like a limpet. “Block for me!” 

“No!” Kuroo wiggles in Bokuto’s arms, trying to break free. It’s like trying to move a tree trunk. 

Bokuto shoves his face in the juncture of Kuroo’s neck. “Pleasee.” His voice buzzes against Kuroo’s skin. Goosebumps rise along the back of Kuroo’s neck. 

“No,” Kuroo says. He groans in defeat. 

Bokuto beams, then realizes that Kuroo’s trying to shift in a different way than before, like he’s trying to hug him back. So he relinquishes Kuroo’s arms. 

Kuroo hugs him around the neck and shoulders. “‘S fine. Let’s just chill.” 

“Mmkay.” Bokuto melts into the hold. It’s so soft and warm. He nuzzles his nose into Kuroo’s neck and sighs. Bokuto’s always warm, but he loves physical contact anyway. It’s like a thousand soft blankets. 

“C’mon, bud.” Kuroo tugs him towards the couch, where Akaashi is reading a book. Somehow. Among their loud noises. 

“I don’t want to watch a movie,” Bokuto says. Even he can tell he’s being petulant, but he can’t help it. “I’ll get bored.” 

Kuroo brings out his phone, waving it in front of Bokuto as he plops them both on the couch. “Let’s play minecraft.” 

Bokuto’s frozen for half a second. Then he gasps, feeling a glow starting in his chest and gleaming outwards, shining through his eyes and teeth, glinting off his shoulders. “Yes! Bro, yes!” He scrambles for his phone, pressing his shoulder against Kuroo’s. 

Kuroo’s shoulders stiffen. Bokuto is about to move away because he’s not the kind of guy to consciously discomfort his bros, but then Kuroo relaxes, tension leaking from his body. 

“Do you want to make a new world?” Bokuto asks, booting his phone up and staring at the screen, already invested. He leans his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, humming. 

“Sure,” Kuroo says. He doesn’t move for a few long seconds, fingers lax around his phone. 

Bokuto glances up at him and catches Kuroo staring at his face, eyes roaming around. Bokuto swallows, knowing he’s staring at the white bandages. Kuroo’s gaze flicks to Bokuto’s shoulder, a bruise showing through the loose sweater he’s wearing. 

“Punch me later,” Bokuto says. 

Kuroo snorts in surprise, his vulnerable expression melting into one of ease. He shifts, jostling Bokuto’s head, settling against the back of the couch. “What should the seed be?” 

“Bitch,” Bokuto says instantly. “No! Ace. Wait, we did that one already. Middle blocker. Cross spike!” 

“Bitch it is,” Kuroo says. 

Bokuto laughs. Kuroo smiles, teeth showing. Akaashi turns a page, and everything feels just right. He can barely feel the burn of his scabs with the warmth of Kuroo against him and the quiet presence of Akaashi just a few feet away. 

And Bokuto smiles, the upturn of his lips quieter than his normal radiant beam. He knows, then; they’re good. 

He’s good. 

[bjy-on-ao3]

Hi, I really enjoy you writing, especially your Persona content. The way you portray Adachi is on point, at least in my opinion. So I'd like to request Adachi being visited by his s/o in Prison (during a conjugal visit) and they have sex, please?

Here you go, Anon~ I hope you enjoy!

I once was considering something like this in the past, but crushed my own hopes when researching stuff. Turns out only a handful of countries allow conjugal visits (Japan not among them), as well as only a handful of states in the U.S. and not for heavy crimes like murder (which makes sense considering) - and even then they aren’t exclusively for sex stuff. However, knowing that someone else wanted something like this lets me suspend my disbelief a little and write it, anyway.

(There’s still a LOT of stretch here though, so don’t take this as a source of information. For example, the visitor isn’t strip-searched - but it’s more fun to have that as part of the fic.). Also funny enough, this is the first non-dubcon/noncon Adachi fic I’ve written for some time. (As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Tags/Warnings Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slight Cockwarming, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Begging, Established Relationship

Summary In which Adachi gets a conjugal visit in prison from his s/o for not-so-wholesome purposes.

Fic Friday

Pent-Up Penitentiary (F! Reader/Tohru Adachi)

Going through the long, tedious process of filling out paperwork and waiting for approval, you had wondered again why a conjugal visit to your boyfriend in prison sounded like a good idea. Not that sound decision making was your strong suit, considering you had chosen to stay with him after the revelation he responsible for the murders of two women. Maybe you secretly had a death wish of your own. Or you thought you knew him better than either of those women had and that knowledge protected you. That aside, you had spent a lot of time alone with him. If Tohru Adachi had wanted to kill you by now, you figured you would have already been dead.

The boring and seemingly endless paperwork had been a mild inconvenience compared to the next part of the process. A strip search was mandatory, they informed you, and you had hated every second. Sure, it was a fantasy you had played out before, but with Adachi, not some random idiot whom you barely knew and cared nothing about. ‘It’ll be over before you know it and worth it’ you had repeated silently, pulling a sour face the entire time. Finally, it had ended, and you let out a breath of angry relief you didn’t realize had caught in your chest.

The more difficult parts of the process behind you, they had escorted you to the designated area - a short row of plain, small single-story buildings surrounded by a tall, sturdy fence that towered oppressively on all sides. A reminder your visit served only as a temporary illusion of normalcy and when it was over the bars, bulletproof glass, and shitty phone systems would separate you all over again. Your face fell as you dwelt on that reminder, freed from your thoughts when the escort officer stopped by a door and cleared his throat,  nodding to it before returning toward the gate.

Taking a deep breath to tamp down the fluttering in your chest, you opened the door and stepped inside, taking a quick glance around the interior. It was much more than you expected - nicer than some studio apartments you had seen in Inaba, outfitted with a small kitchenette and bathroom, an archway with no door leading off into a bedroom. In the central area there was a coffee table and even a small television, sitting opposite a comfortable, but well-worn looking couch.

As you stepped further into the blandly decorated space, the sound of the door opening and shutting interrupted your inspection. You heard boots on the floor come to an abrupt stop and sensed a presence behind you. “This is… nicer than I expected.” You said casually, turning in place.

Your eyes fell as expected on Tohru Adachi’s face. His lips were set in a small, bare smile that was tired, cynical, and, dare you say, a little happy, all at once. You knew if you mentioned that last emotion he would vehemently deny it and suggest you get your eyes checked. “Well, not the process, that was awful, but this,” you added with a wave of your hands.

“Go figure, even criminals get it better than hard-working people,” he answered, and you could hear his bitterness. Having heard his feelings before on how he seldom got what he felt was owed to him, it was no surprise. “Whatever, that’s not what we’re here for,” he dismissed, shaking his head as if to banish the thought.

You didn’t step forward to embrace or kiss him, simply waiting for him to make the first move. If you knew Tohru, a few months behind bars would not have turned into a ball of sappy emotions. Even if he had thrown himself at you, you knew he would have told himself it was all carnal need, not sentimental in the slightest. Besides, he liked to lead the show.  “Strip.” The word was demanding, and to almost anyone else, you were sure it would have sounded cold.

“Straight to the point,” you answered, unruffled. You knew the game with Adachi. Many months dating the man - from shortly after the murders, up to the time of his apprehension - had taught you a lot. “You never had any patience,” you ribbed with a half-smile, but didn’t move to shed any clothes. It was more fun if you didn’t make it that easy on him - especially when you had a good idea of how he might respond.

“Oh? I’m the one who has no patience?” He moved away from the door until he was so close you could feel the heat of his body and breath. “I don’t remember being the one begging all the time before,” he reminded you smugly, and you felt your face flush.

“Only because you-” you argued.

“Ah ah,” he touched a slender finger to your lips, cutting off your argument almost childishly, “enough flapping those pretty little lips.” You felt your skin heat further and a vague hum of arousal between your legs, catching an undercurrent of excitement beneath his condescension. “Get undressed. Now.” The last word was hard and low, but the glint in his eyes was more devious than angry. “Unless you want to be punished?” Adachi added, grabbing your chin in one hand and tilting your head to ensure you looked directly into his grey eyes.

You wet your lips involuntarily - a quick flash of pink that Adachi’s eyes followed - before swallowing thickly. “Like you won’t punish me anyway.” You countered, enjoying the expressions swirling in his gaze.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” In a quick motion, his hand swept from your chin to the back of your head, curling his fingers harshly in your hair near the root. You groaned in response, biting down on your lip at the sting that shouldn’t have been so pleasant. “That’s what I thought,” Adachi hissed cheekily, “Now don’t make me say it again.”

He released your hair and let his arms drop, taking a step back so you had space to undress. You rubbed your scalp gingerly before finally obeying, starting with your shirt. You unbuttoned and peeled the garment away, revealing the low cut cups of the bra you had bought for the occasion. You peeked at Adachi as you stripped, the tingling between your thighs quickly rising, joined by growing dampness that made you press them together for an instant of relief. Next came your skirt, which you shimmied out of as enticingly as you could, revealing panties to match the bra.

You reached back, undoing the clasp bra clasp and letting the straps slide off your shoulders until they caught around your elbows, the cups falling away. Your nipples, already half peaked from excitement, stiffened fully with exposure to the cool air. “That’s better,” Adachi said appreciatively. He stepped back toward you as you pulled off the bra and tossed it onto the floor, reaching forward and greedily filling both hands. “God, I’ve missed these tits,” he confessed, kneading roughly before he began to tweak and roll your nipples between his fingers.

You sighed and moaned at the rough touch you had craved since Adachi had been sent away. It wasn’t the same when you fondled yourself alone at night - the warmth of his skin and calloused feeling of his hands was impossible to replicate. “They’re all yours, Tohru,” you breathed, almost dreamily, eyes drifting shut, surprised by how much of a relief his touch on your body again was.

But Adachi wasn’t about to let your sudden compliance go unnoticed. “Look at you, acting like a brat before,” he pinched a nipple especially hard as if continuing to punish your previous defiance. “But you sure sing a different tune once I get my hands on you. What’s the change of heart, baby? Did you miss me?” The words were mocking, rather than sweet, as if the thought of missing someone was something to be humiliated about.

You fought through a whimper while Adachi continued to grope at your chest, attitude not entirely driven away by the thrill of having his hands on you again. “I don’t know, did you miss me?” You asked, imitating his tone.

He pressed in closer, dipping his head toward your neck and nipping it sharply. “The only thing I’ve missed is your body,” he said dismissively, squeezing your breasts hard enough you gasped and whined. “Your tits and that sweet ass and tight little pussy,” he growled in your ear. “I missed what’s mine.” His voice rang low and possessive, and he sealed his claim by latching onto the racing pulse in your neck and sucking a dark mark into the soft skin.

“Fuck you, Tohru,” you cursed, feeling your cunt throb in reply to his words. “I-I don’t even have to be here.”

Adachi straightened up, and when you met his eyes again, you recognized a dark tint among the hunger. “Oh? Then why are you? Admit it, you wanted this as much as me.” There was cruel delight in his voice. You knew he got off on putting you in your place as much as you did from agitating him. “Missed my cock so bad you were willing to let a stranger strip search you to have it again.” Your chest heaved as one of his hands drifted down your stomach and over your hip, and you couldn’t suppress another lewd sound. “Because you know no one else can make you feel as good as I do.”

His wandering hand stroked over your clothed cunt, before slipping to your backside and pressing your hips into his so you could feel his hardness through his slacks. “But it’s been a while. Maybe I need to remind you,” he mused.

The hand on your chest moved to your head, forcing you down onto your knees in front of him. You looked up, eyes half-lidded and pupils wide. You licked your lips again, eyeing the bulge in his pants. Even if you took pleasure in insolence, staring up at Adachi as he loomed over you like a starving beast was insanely arousing and you were willing to be compliant.

“I forgot how hot you look on your knees where you belong,” Adachi sneered. He wet his lips as you had, but the same action on him was hungry and predatory. Pinning you in place with his lustful stare, he reached to unbuckle and strip off his belt and unfasten his pants. He pulled out his cock, flushed and leaking, and stroked it for a moment. He didn’t miss how your gaze followed the relaxed motion or the way he smeared the pearl of pre-cum on the head over it. “Tell me how much you want my cock and maybe I’ll let you have it.”

You hesitated, running your tongue over your lips, eyes remaining on his cock. As much as your on-and-off bratty act irritated him, it made watching you struggle between it and your desire for him before eventually giving in so satisfying. He smirked as he spied the instant of resolution pass over your face. Your hooded eyes flicked up to meet his, lips wet and slightly parted. “Please, Tohru?” The words weren’t sickly sweet, instead oozing arousal. “I want your cock. I need it.” You continued to look up at him, lustfully and hopefully.

“Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to mull over your plea, “I don’t think you want it bad enough,” he said, and only your craving for what was in front of you kept you from half-heartedly rolling your eyes. Adachi always liked to push, and that hadn’t changed in your time apart.

But giving in to start made it easier to keep going. “Tohru, let me suck your dick, please. Don’t you want me to?” You did what you could to give him your best pleading expression to match your words. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”.

The signs of Adachi’s smug satisfaction increased, your pleas stoking the rush of power and hunger he enjoyed so much. “There’s the little cockslut I remember,” the way he said it, the degrading name sounded almost like praise. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

He buried one hand in your hair, tilting your head back and pulling you toward him. You eagerly met him the rest of the way, slipping the head of him past your lips. You sucked lightly at first, swirling your tongue and dipping it into the slit before tightness in your hair urged you  forward. You gladly took more of him into your mouth, relishing the familiar taste and weight on your tongue. Letting your eyes droop nearly closed, a satisfied moan escaped your lips as you hollowed your cheeks and began a steady pace, loving how Adachi’s hand in your hair flexed.

There was a low, answering sound from above you. “Fuuck, I’ve missed this. You look so good sucking my cock.”

Eyes opening, you glanced up as best you could. Adachi’s intense stare met you, wide blown pupils rendering his stormy eyes nearly black and his chest rising and falling quicker. The tantalizing look sent a shudder through you, encouraging you to continue with even more enthusiasm. You lay one hand on the leg of his slacks, bracing yourself as you went on. Adachi cursed again, rolling his hips forward, and only the hand on his leg kept him from choking you on his dick in surprise.

Streams of swears and a few lewd names muttered under heavy breath drifted from him, accompanied by several more bucks into your mouth, until his pace was almost constant. After the first you had prepared yourself for more, knowing they would come, focusing on relaxing your gag reflex. You still choked a few times on his length, but reigned in the spasms, feeling a few tears well up and burn your eyes and a single stray trail of saliva drip down your chin.

The labored breathing above you escalated, as did the number of curses and obscenities until they seemed to blend. “Damn, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up. Shit,” he swore, and the strain in his tone was obvious.

His cock twitched on your tongue, rewarding your efforts with more salty pre-cum, before the hand in your hair stiffened. His harsh grip stopped you, sunk down on his cock as far as you could go, and you glanced up questioningly. The rock of his hips had come to a full stop, not the stuttering pace you were used to when he was about to cum. He tugged you off his cock completely and you whined in protest.

“Tohru, please.” Having gotten a taste of him again, you wanted nothing more than to finish what you had started.

He blew a quick puff of a silent laugh through his nose, his pompous expression marred by the lurid flush on his cheeks. “Who’s the impatient one here, again, sweetheart?” He teased. Your lips twisted in a frown and your brows furrowed, bottom lip sticking out sulkily. “Heh, you look so cute pouting like that. Don’t worry, I’ll let you have plenty of my cum later. But not yet.”

He pulled you up roughly, steering you towards a wall as soon as you were properly on your feet. You stumbled, your back hitting the wall with a thump that made you wince and mutter a quiet curse. The prick of pain was quickly forgotten as Adachi closed in, pulling your panties down so eagerly they almost tore, eliciting another sound of quiet protest before you kicked them away. He hiked your legs up around his waist, pinning you against the wall with the force of his hips.

When his dick slipped slickly against your pussy lips, your head fell back against the wall with another thud, a low hum coming from your mouth. You rolled your hips and pushed against him, admittedly just as impatient as Adachi was to have to his dick inside of you, but only brushed the swollen head over your clit.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about this as much as me.” His lips were warm against your ear, breath rolling over your neck in hot puffs. “Tell me you want it and I’ll give it to you,” he coaxed, wanting to hear you beg again now that he was pressed so close to your heat. You groaned, wishing he would just hurry and fill you up rather than play more games. “C’mon, baby, speak up. You went through all that trouble, didn’t you? Tell me how much you need my cock again.”

“I want it. Now,” there was an edge beneath the desire, the hint of your impatience and annoyance. “Fuck me, Tohru. I can’t take it, I need your cock. I can’t wait.”

Adachi didn’t make you beg further, pleased with the filth he had drawn from your lips. He adjusted the angle of his hips before lining up with your slit and pushing inside. You groaned and he sighed as his thick head slid past your opening, each hot inch of his cock stretching you in a way you didn’t realize you had missed so much. He pulled back a few inches, before rocking his hips back and smoothly sinking into you completely.

A growl met your ears before his lips touched your neck, sucking hard. You gasped and cried out, hips reflexively grinding against him as you basked in his lips and the fullness from his dick. “Ah, fuck, better than I remembered,” he breathed when his lips left your skin, giving a languid thrust out and back in, to the delight of you both.

You hooked your ankles together around his waist, urging him closer, deeper as his thrusts became more steady. His lips returned to your throat, peppering your skin with nips and sucking more small marks into it. Hands clenched around your thighs, Adachi shifted you against the wall, the new angle letting his cock stroke you in a way that elicited even more excited sounds from your lips.

“Yes, fuck, Tohru. More, more, harder,” you pleaded.

“Fine, sweetheart, I’ll give you more,” he answered, the force of his hips driving harder until each thrust left your head feeling thick and foggy. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think about anything else,” Adachi promised. Sure enough, all you could care about was the pleasurable ache each time he pounded into you and the cruel, seductive rasp of his voice.

“Yes, yes, please. Fuck me until I can’t think of anything else!” You echoed, again pressing him forward with your heels and trying to meet each brutal thrust. Your mouth hung open, every sound unrestrained and wild. “More, more, more,” you repeated like some obscene chant.

“Just can’t get enough, can you? You asked for it, sweetheart. I’m gonna fill you up again and again and you’re gonna love it,” he said, his bawdy words reaching through your lust-addled mind, making your cunt clench more greedily around him. “Maybe I’ll just keep fucking you until you pass out. I bet my little cockslut would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Aah, fuck, yes!” All you could do was agree with him, your stubbornness long forgotten in the throes of the ecstasy you hadn’t been able to relive in months.

“Fuck, almost there,” Adachi breathed when your cunt contracted around him extra tight, as if trying to force him to fuck you even harder to draw out of its embrace. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock first. Touch yourself for me,” he compelled you, how close he was getting plain in his husky voice and labored breathing.

“Fuck, Tohru, yes, anything for you,” you agreed, in a tone even further gone.

You reached down almost mechanically, fingers clumsily reaching just above the place your bodies met and rubbing your clit urgently. Already awash with pleasure from Adachi’s rough pace and dirty words, your body reacted swiftly to the new attention, the buzz of pleasure in your gut transforming into a hot coil that threatened to snap.

“That’s right, anything for me,” he agreed possessively, his eyes glued to where your fingers worked feverishly and his cock disappeared into your body. “Who do you belong to, baby? Who’s the only one who gets to fuck you like this?”

You struggled to answer him with coherent words, the spring in your belly reaching its breaking point and bursting in ripples of heat. “You, Tohru, I’m all yours. Only, aaah, you, you, you,” your speech melted into an incoherent jumble of wild cries and expletives, unable to focus any longer on anything but the delicious clenching of your pussy and the electric waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“Fuck, that’s right. So here’s a reward for my sweet little whore,” he degraded, leaving sloppy kisses and more bites on your neck, his pace spurred on by your cries. “Just the start of how much I’m gonna fill you up tonight.”

With his promise, he stiffened against you, bucking especially hard several times into your trembling heat. He came in hot spurts, filling your cunt with warmth until it seeped out around him. He murmured your name low, before biting hard into your neck, a yelp interrupting your moans.

When Adachi was completely spent, he withdrew, easing you back onto your feet and stepping away. Legs weak and threatening to buckle, you stayed against the wall for much-needed support, eyes closed and panting heavily. Nearby you heard the rustle of fabric and the soft sound of more clothes hitting the floor.

Before much longer, you were yanked away from the wall, nearly falling. You opened your eyes to see Adachi stripped down to nothing as well, and despite how tired you felt, you couldn’t help but linger for a moment on his cock, still half-hard.. Adachi pulled you through the open archway to the bedroom, dragging you down onto the bed. He pulled you roughly against him until your back met his chest, both damp with sweat.

“Tohru, let go,” you complained, feeling overheated and sensitive. Surprise jolted another moan from you as he groped your thighs, spreading your legs long enough to bury himself in your heat again.

“Weren’t you listening? I’m gonna fuck you until you pass out, sweetheart.” he reminded you snidely, curling his arms around you. One splayed across your stomach, the other squeezing a breast roughly, but almost absently. “I just need a little more motivation first.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he couldn’t see. “Sure, motivation. Can’t just call it cuddling like a normal person, can you?” You accused dryly.

“Shut up,” he snapped. You had a feeling his face was flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation at your words. Whatever he wanted to pretend, his actions spoke louder than his defensive words. “You sound a lot better when your mouth is stuffed with my dick. Maybe I should just put it back to better use instead,” he threatened.

“Well, I am still waiting for that taste, Tohru.”

[politicalmamaduck]

Reylo Fic Recs: Modern AU

The Other Promise by @kuresoto

Rey knows she's not normal. Why else would she be subjected to four foster families before she aged out of the system and took life into her own hands? It could have (definitely does) something to do with the fact that she can see how long people have to live.It doesn't bother her (much) anymore, and with her being--well, her--she's resigned herself to working in a morgue for the rest of her life where the only people who keep her company besides her boss, are the dead. No friends, no family. No one.But everything starts to unravel when a new neighbor moves in next door. The walls she's built come crumbling down for the uniquely handsome man who always wears a three-piece suit, complete with a pair of leather gloves, regardless of how hot it is.The chance encounter turns into frequent run-ins, with the single most important factor that had ruined any relationship she ever tried having in the past being absent. He has no life timer.

Where No Thing Gleams by @maq-moon

An online DNA test sends Rey on a whirlwind journey across Europe. When she hits a roadblock in her travels, the enigmatic Kylo Ren offers to solve all of her problems. The catch? She must simply go on one date with him.Or so she thought.

The Skeptic and the Medium by @shelikespretties

Rey Niima fought for a logical, no-nonsense life as a scientist and skeptic of all things that go bump in the night. Kylo Ren is a famous medium for whom bumps in the night show off. So of course they have to make a Netflix special together.

Dear Mr. President by @shmisolo

Dr. Dameron shifts and slides a manilla folder across the desk to her.  “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d let you keep the folder.  I hope you’ll understand why I can’t do that this time around.” She opens it and stares.She stares and stares and stares.Dr. Dameron has to be kidding.  There have to be hidden cameras here, this has to be some elaborate prank.  That’s why it’s him here and not Dr. Wexley—that was his name.  Dr. Wexley. But instead of getting to her feet and tossing her hair and saying he was cruel for playing with her heart like this, all she does is ask, blankly, “So...Ben Solo is my soulmate?  Our new president is my…” She swallows.And Dr. Dameron nods.

Carry In My Core (That Voice I Adore) by @shmisolo

Starring in her first opera would be stressful as is, but Rey, always one to outdo herself, just had to go and make things even more complicated with Kylo Ren.  It’s hard enough looking him in the eye, much less pretending to be in love with him.  She can make it through this.  She has made it through worse.  She can make it through this.

the star to every wandering bark by @abstractragedy

There is something else as well, an instinctual drive that’s making him go, almost calling Ben to Takodana; much like an idea for a novel, a terribly persistent and gnawing thought at the back of his mind that will not go away until he does something about it.A change of scenery is always good for one’s mind. By alternating one’s perspective the reality might change as well.--When Ben Solo travels to Takodana in the name of his second novel, meeting an impossibly intriguing woman named Rey wasn't exactly what he envisioned. But the universe has a funny way of working things out.

Yichud by @shmisolo

Mazal Tov - The expression comes from the Mishnaic Hebrew mazzāl, meaning "constellation" or "destiny".  Borrowed from Yiddish מזל־טובֿ (mazl tov), from Hebrew מַזָּל (mazál, “star, constellation; fate, luck”), from Akkadian (manzaltu [UD.DA]) + Hebrew טוֹב (tov, “good”); literally “good stars, good luck.”

crossfade (cursed and blessed) by @shmisolo

The Talmud states that on Purim one is to drink to the point of not knowing the difference between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.”  In other words, you’re supposed to get so blitzed you can’t tell your friends from your enemies. Rey and Ben might be taking this a little too literally at Leia’s annual Purim Party.

Convergence by @kuresoto

Other, also known as ‘soulmate’ for people who wanted to believe. Not everyone had an Other, and the only way to find your Other was by saying their name. When that happened, memories of their life, where they grew up and the steps that led them to you, would be condensed into a single flashback that passed in a blink of an eye. The fact that someone had said Rey’s name and didn’t bother approaching her hurt, especially since she had a good idea why. Her parents tossed her aside when she was barely five, so she shouldn’t be surprised that her soulmate had done the same.

Siman tov u’mazal tov by @shmisolo

“I didn’t get to have a big wedding,” his mother had told him when they’d finally spoken about it. “I was pregnant and it was a lot and your dad and I just got married. It’s my time. I’m having a big wedding.” She sounded nervous, almost defensive, as though a woman who is nearly sixty doesn’t have a right to want a big wedding. She wasn’t no young blushing bride. She has a thirty-year-old son for god’s sake.But his mom was going to have a big wedding.And Ben had taken a deep breath before saying what he’s sure Leia was even more nervous about hearing.“I’m not sure I’m coming.”

How Our Song Goes by @lariren-shadow

Rey is a struggling student who would love to have at least some money to save rather then just paying her debts.  Kylo Ren would love to get his trust fund, the only problem is there's a clause in it that states if he wants it now he has to get married.Rey is willing to be Kylo's bride to her own cut.  The only problem is that they'll have to make their relationship look real to everyone else.

Puppies by @lariren-shadow

On a crisp autumn day Rey and Ben meet in the park while walking their dogs.  Things don't exactly go smoothly.

burn sky until you see lines by @solikerez

He writes a letter for every time he feels like the world is shattering around him, and it is still not enough.

306.73 or: How to Woo a Librarian by @reylotrashcompactor

She was back again. Ben called her The Scavenger in his head because she liked to pick collections dry. (Though he knew from her library card that her name was Rey. Pretty.) There wasn’t a pattern to her hauls, only that she’d take almost an entire shelf with her in that ratty little messenger bag and leave him to pick up her mess. But, Ben didn’t suppose he was fooling anyone but himself: he had it bad for the Scavenger and she was back. He’d talk to her tonight. He would.

What you don't know by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Rey wants to see the local haunted house and drags her reluctant boyfriend and friends along with her. It's not quite what she expects.

Between Sky and Sea by @moonshotsandarchimedeslevers

When Rey finally set out to find her parents in the innumerable islands of the Jakku Archipelago, the last thing she expected was a mysterious stranger to drop out of the sky with his story of hidden treasures and secret wonders.

Blades Crossed by @the-reylo-void

Notorious figure skater Kylo Ren has had a rough few years; once a decorated competitor, now it's hard to say what he's losing faster, sponsors or partners. With Nationals just six months out and no qualified partner on the horizon, Kylo finds himself begrudgingly skating with college hockey phenom Rey Kenobi, a scrappy forward coming off injured reserve who doesn't know a lutz from an axel. It's only for six months, but family drama, a twisted coach, and a budding closeness to his new partner ensure that this will be the most eventful competition season of Kylo's career.

it's you and me (i know it's our destiny) by @shmisolo

It’s just a kid’s game, he thinks when jealousy pangs in his heart.  But it’s more than just a kid’s game.It’s Pokémon. It’s the only good thing in his life.

happy cockus day by trasharama

She prefers the nip of New Hampshire winters, heavy winds blowing in her hair, being bundled up in three layers with pens whose ink freeze fast and thaw slow. She loves warm buildings, and Christmas breaks, and slurping down huge bowls of ramen in the evenings, but being on the ground, a clipboard in her hand, boots on a voter’s doorstep? That’s where she knows she belongs.So there are a lot of things going against Rey Johnson’s introduction to Ben Solo, his moody personality probably the least of her worries, since he’s the reason she’s not outside, making some sort of tangible effort to get his mother elected as president.

A More Perfect Union by fangirl_outlet

Rey, new to DC, tags along to a stuffy networking event with her friend -- they're both poor and, hell, there's free booze. Ben, a recruiter for the lobbyist firm he works for, finds the intern with the soft voice and angry eyes a fun challenge -- especially when he finds out she works for his estranged mother Senator Leia Organa.

Spending Valentine's Day Solo by @jyn-z-solo

 She places his scent—woodsy and warm, like sandalwood and ginger—before she recognizes the large, gloved hand outreached to steady her or the sleeves of his black wool coat. “Rey,” he blurts out—is the pink on his cheeks from the chill outside, or is he blushing?  “Ben! Hi!”  She’s trying desperately to sound nonchalant, but at the rate her eyebrows continue to rise, they may end up past her hairline.  “Wha… What are you doing here?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. 

Unshakeable by @shmisolo

Rey is performing in another fucking musical and Ben goes to see it.

My own modern AU fics:

what is past is prologue: Reylo in Washington, DC

A collection of my Tumblr-based Reylo fics set in Washington, DC. Prompts and prompter will be in chapter titles.

My other fic rec lists:

Fic Recs Under 100 Kudos | Smuggler Ben Solo | Fantasy, Fae, Magic, Fairy Tale, and Mythology | Historical AU | Dark Side Rey | Canonverse | Smut |

[localswordlesbian]

Something There That Wasn’t There Before: Chapter 2

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

Read Chapter 1 on Tumblr

In which Martin realizes what his mother's actions mean for his future, and he finally meets this reclusive "boss" he's been hearing so much about.

Martin blinked at where the door had bin, his brain coming to a complete halt as he stared. What had just happened?

A whistle behind him shook him out of his stupor. He turned to see the two strange people looking at him. Helen looked amused while Michael looked troubled.

“Well, that was the most fun I’ve had since Mary dropped little Gerry off months ago!” Helen crooned, dropping to balance on the balls of her feet to be level with Martin – he hadn’t noticed he’d sank down against the wall, sitting on the damp ground.

“I have to say,” Michael mused. “She seemed nasty, but I didn’t expect that. Are you okay?”

Martin couldn’t answer. His mother wanted him to stay. She wanted him to stay in this terrifying castle with these weird people rather than going home with her. She no longer wanted him to care for her – he’d braved the woods, and for what? The bitterness rose in his throat again and threatened to choke him, and his eyes stung. He blinked, refusing to cry in front of these two. Whoever they were.

When he managed to look up, there was another door, this one purple, shimmering in the wall. Michael was looking at him, his expression soft. Helen had a gleam in her eye that made Martin shiver with apprehension.

At his doubtful look, Michael shrugged. “This will go to the dining room. You look like you’ve had a long night.”

Martin debated arguing, saying he didn’t trust Michael as far as he could throw him, but exhaustion weighed down his bones, and even holding his head up and eyes open was taking all his energy. So he took a step forward, opening the door and stepping through. As the door closed, he felt a pressure at the back of his head that had him groaning in pain before he stepped out onto solid ground, vertigo causing him to lean to the side before collapsing with a heavy thump.

He vaguely heard voices shouting as he drifted out of consciousness, and the last thing he heard was someone asking “Is he alright?” before the darkness took over his vision and he fell into blessed sleep.

Martin came to slowly, grogginess keeping his eyes closed. He heard several voices around him.

“He came through one of Helen’s doors. I wonder what happened.”

“I saw him when he walked in, freezing his poor arse off. Said he was looking for his mum.”

“D’you think he found her?”

“Do you happen to see an old lady anywhere around here, Tim?”

“Maybe Helen sent her through a different door!”

“Well, he’s here now, wherever his mum is.”

There was a pause in the conversation, then: “He’s pretty cute, though.”

“Oh for god’s sake, Tim–“

“What? I’m not wrong.”

Martin fought to open his eyes, bright light assaulting his senses as he took a deep breath. He vaguely saw three figures hovering over him. “Where am I?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” one of the figures exclaimed. Martin squinted, trying to make out any features, to  no avail. Someone must have taken off his glasses.

As if on cue, a hand held them out to him. “Here,” came the kind feminine voice. Martin put on his glasses and saw a dark skinned girl sitting on the couch near his legs, with glasses of her own and her dark, curly hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She had a kind smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”

Martin sat up, attempting a smile back. “I– I’m alright. Confused, but alright.”

The girl smiled sympathetically, fidgeting with the hem of her dark T-shirt. “That’s understandable. My name’s Sasha. Sasha James.” She stuck out her hand to him, and he shook it.

“Martin. Martin Blackwood.”

Sasha smiled at him again. “It’s nice to meet you, Martin. Welcome to our weird little family.”

Martin took another look around the room. Standing next to Sasha was the man he’d encountered yesterday, dressed in a black studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. He nodded at Martin, and Martin nodded back. “Gerard Keay, but you can call me Gerry.”

“Nice to meet you,” Martin said meekly.

Lastly, next to Gerry, there was a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt so bright and colourful that Martin wondered whether this man was Helen and Michael’s missing third. He was broad, with tanned skin and black hair that looked like it was purposely styled to be messy. He was grinning, leaning down and bracing his hands next to Martin and leaning close to his face as Martin leaned away. “Yeah, I was right, he is cute,” the man said conclusively, and Martin could feel his face heating. “I’m Tim Stoker. Guess you’re one of us now.”

Martin chuckled nervously. “And, uh, who exactly would that be?”

Tim leaned back, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Archival Assistants, which basically means we laze around and sometimes fetch a file for Jon.”

“Jon?”

“Jonathan Sims,” Sasha explained. “Our boss.”

That must have been the boss Michael and Helen mentioned. “Ah. Helen and Michael mentioned him. Wondered if I was, uh, his type? Anyone know what that’s about?”

The three assistants exchanged a look, seeming to have a silent conversation that Martin wasn’t privy to.

“That’s a long story,” Gerry finally said. “If you want to stay, you can. If not, you’re free to go. You don’t have any responsibility to anyone here.”

Martin considered Gerry’s words. He could leave, try and find his way back to town, figure out what to do. What would he do? His mother didn’t want him, she’d made that perfectly clear. It wasn’t like he had friends he could stay with, and though he could live in the library he didn’t particularly want to burden Phil. He remembered his promise to Jack with a pang, wondering whether the boy was waiting at the well for him to return and read to him. “I–I don’t really have anywhere to go,” he said finally, cringing at how self-pitying he sounded. Good job, Martin.

Sasha gave him another kind smile, placing a hand on his knee. “It’s okay, Martin. You can stay here. It might even help, having another assistant.”

Martin nodded, returning Sasha’s smile shyly. “Do you guys live here? Is there anyone else?”

Tim pursed his lips. “Yeah, we live here, though not by choice.” Sasha smacked his arm. “What? Might as well tell him the truth.” At Martin’s concerned look, Tim’s face softened. “Basically, the boss pissed off a very powerful witch of a man, and we all happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. That place being here, and the time being when that bastard–

“Tim–“

“Fine, absolute piece of shit fucker–“

“Tim!”

“Oh, come off it, Sasha! You know it’s true. That asshole decided that the best punishment was to trap Jon here, turning him into an avatar of the Beholding until someone falls in love with him. So, of course, Jon being Jon just locked himself upstairs in the West Wing half the time because he thinks no one could love a monster.”

“Give Jon a break, Tim. It can’t be easy for him.”

“I know it’s not.” Tim sighed, meeting Sasha’s eyes for a moment before looking back to Martin. Gerry stood quietly off to the side. “Look, I love Jon as much as any of you guys, but this is getting ridiculous. The longer he stays locked away, the longer we’re stuck here.”

Gerry met Martin’s eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way. We’re not asking you to seduce our boss or anything. We’re just explaining the situation.”

Sasha jumped. “Oh, of course we’re not suggesting anything, Martin!” she said hurriedly. “No one expects you to. Like Gerry said, just explaining.” Tim said nothing.

“What’s the Beholding?” Martin asked. “And who was this witch man?”

Tim sighed. “The Beholding is one of fourteen fear entities that sort of–watches over our world. Every fear is a result of these fourteen. The Beholding is the fear of being watched, your secrets being known. Jonah Magnus, the motherfucker, was an avatar of the Beholding a couple hundred years ago, and has kept himself alive by transferring his eyeballs into a host.”

Martin cringed. “Ew.”

Tim nodded gravely. “Ew indeed. Anyway, that host is who cursed Jon, because he refused to become an avatar willingly. So now we’re all fucked.”

Martin sat back, mind reeling. “Huh,” was all he managed to say.

Sasha nodded before patting his knee again. “I know, it’s a lot. Don’t worry yourself too much – again, it really doesn’t need to involve you.” She sounded genuine as she gave him a smile and stood. “Come on, I’m going to make tea. Maybe you can meet the others, too.”

Martin smiled gratefully at her as he stood, Gerry following while Tim threw his arm over Martin’s shoulder, his mischievous grin back. “Welcome to the family.”

Martin did end up meeting everyone. Daisy, with her muscular, scarred arms, freckled skin, shorn blonde hair, and clipped Welsh accent. Basira, with her soft smile, olive skin, and pale blue hijab matching her mug of tea. Georgie, with her friendly demeanour, skin just a shade lighter than Sasha’s, and kinked hair pulled back with a headband. Melanie, Georgie’s girlfriend, with her brown bob of wavy hair, pale skin, perpetual scowl, and sightless glass eyes. He even met the cat, The Admiral, a fat orange thing that purred like an earthquake in a blender when scratched behind the ear just right.

Over the next few days, Martin helped where he could, retrieving files for Sasha that were too high for her to reach, helping Basira sort through old papers and journals in the castle’s library, giving Georgie a hand with cooking. He even had some lively discussions with Gerry about books they’d both read.

Martin also learned everyone’s tea preferences, and would occasionally bring people piping hot mugs while they worked or relaxed. If he was going to be staying here, he was determined to be helpful.

That left one person he hadn’t met yet – the reclusive Archivist. Jonathan Sims. The cursed man, the man someone had to fall in love with in order to free everyone in the castle.

Everyone except Martin.

He nearly scoffed at the whole situation. It sounded right out of a fairy tale. He wondered what being an avatar entailed. Could Jonathan Sims see everything? Hear everything?

“Essentially, yes.”

The unfamiliar voice behind him – posh, deep, and smooth – made Martin jump, spilling piping hot tea over the rim of his mug and splashing his hand, causing him to hiss in pain. He whipped around, clutching his hand, to see who had spoken, and he nearly crashed into the counter.

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was a frail man, with brown skin covered in circular scars. The man was short, the top of his head perhaps reaching up to Martin’s nose. He had a mottled burn scar covering one hand, and a line at his throat as though he’d been held at knifepoint. He had long, wavy black hair that was streaked through with gray, which he’d put in a bun on top of his head. He was dressed in a collared shirt and jumper, and a pair of glasses perched at the end of his nose.

For a moment, Martin simply stared, speechless. “I–what?”

The man walked over to him, eyes never leaving Martin’s face. Martin’s neck prickled, like he was being watched. “You were wondering if I, Jonathan Sims, can see everything, hear everything. Because I’ve been turned into an avatar of the Beholding. And the answer, essentially, is yes.”

It took Martin half a minute of gawking at this man before he could answer. “You can read my mind?”

“For the most part. I tend to stay out of people’s heads – it’s a bit of a privacy issue. But you’re new, and I was curious. Martin Blackwood, was it?”

Martin blinked. “Yeah, I– could you not do that? Look in my head? Privacy issue and all.”

Jonathan nodded. “Of course. I apologize, I should have mentioned it before. Also, you can just call me Jon.”

Martin nodded slowly. “Okay, Jon,” he said. Jon looked up at him, an amused smile quirking his lips upward. Martin realized with horror that he’d said Jon’s name just for the sake of saying it. He fumbled for something to say. “Would you like some tea?”

Jon looked up at him for a moment before nodding. “That would be nice.”

Of course, Martin thought. Of course the reclusive guy that needs someone to fall in love with him is exactly my type. Of course he’s adorable and good looking. God has cursed my hubris.

Martin tried to chase the thoughts out of his head as he got to making Jon a cup of tea, but it was no use. He was in so much trouble.

[1phoenixfeather]

Overwhelmed hero

Trying to empty my drive and rewrite (mainly to make them better), getting out with one tomorrow. Will see if it’s an continue or a new. But tomorrow is the main day for me to post and write for my tumblr page.

Enjoy!

Villain waited at the edge of the street lamps light, waiting for hero to appear. The cold night wind penetrated their clothes like nothing and yet it was so refreshing. The plan was clear, that hero and hsidekick would interfere with the plan. Both were an issue worth accounting for. 

Their henchmen appeared out of the darkness, just as fast went into the base without saying a word to villain. Maybe they didn’t see them at all, but it didn’t matter. They had what they were sent to retrieve anyway. Hero shouldn’t be far away now. With hsidkick as a hostage, this wouldn’t be hard.

Villain saw someone in the shadows, probably hero crawling around in the bushes. Didn’t seem to leave the forest and that safety. “Why do you hide hero?! Afraid?!” Villain taunted hero for hiding when they both knew where the other one was. Hero crawled out and slowly come forward. “Can we make this fast? I have other stuff to do today.” Villain asked heros dark figure.

Hero didn’t move into the light, but answered. “This time I will bring you in and sadly the other stuff you need to do. Will have to wait.” Villain moved closer to the center of the light, inviting hero to come closer. Villain smirked. Hero showed themselves, bruises all over their face and was close to limping closer. Villain almost laughed out loud, “this isn’t your lucky day, huh?”

Hero didn’t answer, just tried to hit villain in their face. Who caught hold of hero’s arm and turned them around, wrenched their arm as far as it could go. Hero wailed loud and painfully. Tried to fight it even though it couldn’t be fought.

“Maybe we could talk and not fight this time.” Villain asked nicely, and hero calmed down. They nodded, so villain let go of their arm. “Nice of you to agree.” 

Hero didn’t look that happy or confident. Just tired and angry, “I just want to end this fast so I can go home. Make sure hsidekick got that sidekick of yours already.” Villain couldn’t stop smirk, but now they laughed too. Couldn’t hide their victory. “What?!” Hero demanded to know. 

“I think its vsidekick whos got the sidekick of yours instead, I believe they’re on the way right now.” Villain explained, “maybe you would have trained hsidekick better or let someone else do it. Maybe had given them a fighting chance.” Villain always enjoyed teasing and pushing hero’s bottoms. But hero just moved backward a few steps, shook their head repeatedly.

“You’re lying!” Hero clenched their fists, but the fear was clear enough. However, hero desperately denied or hid the fear.

Villain moved around hero in a circle, “how much does hsidekick mean to you really?” 

“I could ask you the same,” Hero asked desperately, wanted to believe that hsidekick has not failed. 

Villain had thought this was going to be easy, but didn’t know this was going to be this fun. “I might be the villain to you, but I care about those who work for me.” 

“Then we’re on the same page at least” hero snarled, moved away even more from villain. “Do you want to tell me about your new plan?” Hero paced, thinking of, probably hsidekick. 

Villain enjoyed seeing hero so helpless, “no. I’m good.” Hero was surprised and stopped pacing. “This time I keep it to myself instead and see how you stop me this time. It should be interesting.” Hero chuckled a little bit of irony, even though they still weren’t happy. 

“I’m sure it’s not such a big of a deal” hero answered and then returned to pacing.

Villain looked at their buzzing phone answered with a smirk. “Vsidekick, everything alright?” Villain heard struggle, whining. Hero didn’t say a thing or ran away. Waited for further information, vsidekick answered, “yeah. I got them under control, we’re on the way.”

The truth slowly crept onto hero, “Put on loudspeaker, I think hero needs to hear their sidekick for themselves.” They did the same, let hero hear everything. 

Hero yerked away from the light, “no. I won’t let you win.” They were afraid, even though they hide their face, the feelings escaped. It was impossible to miss that fear.

“Let them speak” villain ordered and it sounded like they were panting. Like they hadn’t stopped struggle even for a second. Soon enough they would stop the struggle, when there is no escape.

“Hsidekick? Are you okay?” Hero carefully comes closer, listened to everything. They shivered, was it fear or just the cold wind? 

“Hero, it’s a trap! Save yourse…!” Hsidekick tried to sound the word, but there were no more words, only struggle. Hero turned away from villain to escape, to come back and save hsidekick another day. 

This really wasn’t hero’s lucky day, villain was ready for them. Got their arm, stopped them from leaving. “Not this time hero” villain wrenching heros arm even more than before. Villain didn’t really care if their arm broke, it wasn’t their concern. “This time you will come with me, maybe you will get the chance to talk to your sidekick.” 

Hero fought them, kicked them sloppy, but villain back off. Hero took the chance to breath and took too long. Villain kicked them to the ground, hero lost all of their breath. Trying to get back on their feet. 

“Give up!” Villain shouted, and hero managed to flee into the forest. Heard villain’s screams and the hunt was on. Hero ran as fast as they ever had done, the street lamps light had made it hard to see in the dark. “Hero!” villain was still too close. It distracted Hero and they fell. Crying out as they landed on a rock. 

“Damn it” hero bite down a curse and cradled to their knee and they knew they couldn’t hide forever. Either villain would find them or their henchman in the morning. So hero had to find their way to their base tonight, and maybe ask for help.

Hero looked around, didn’t see a thing. Only darkness and... Villain. They felt a needle in their arm, “you shouldn’t come that far from now on. Even if you get away, we will find you.” 

Hero was desperate to get away, even if they already felt weak. But even so, they dragged themselves only by their arms. Hero could feel every body part give up, “I... never give up.” the sweat ran down their face and back. Whatever it was it took effect fast, and they lost sense of everything. Hero only knew they weren’t going to come home. Villain had won this time. So they groaned and fell asleep.

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

Hero groaned and Bareilly felt their fingers.

“Well, see who’s starting to wake up.” Villain said, and hero blinked a few times before they saw villain in front of them. “Nightmares?” Hero coughed, thirsty and hungry. They failed to stand up, only to discover they weren’t strong enough. “Careful, the poison is still in your system.”

Hero gave up their struggle, “poison? That’s low, even for you” Hero didn’t know how they sat up but they did with support from the wall. “Where’s hsidekick?” 

Villain laughed, hero tried so hard to keep themselves straight. “Your sidekick will meet their destiny before you do, and I used just the right amount of poison. To keep you alive and weak, until you finally will die by it.” Hero was too weak to yerk away from Villains smooth touch. “Don’t be like that, there’s no need to be so angry. I’m not going to hurt you. So much.”

Hero didn’t see until now they were in villains lab, “what exactly do you plan to do now?” The lab had everything, including things to keep a prisoner. Why were they here and not in a cell? What was their plan? 

Hero couldn’t feel Villains grip when they were dragged over the floor to a metall chair. Hero would be trapped for real, “scared?” Hero knew exactly how much fear they showed, “don’t worry, this will just hurt a lot.” Hero struggled the bindings and suddenly Villain had a needle.

Hero could feel it just under their skin, groaning.

Hero tried to fight the burning pain, “no! Don’t... I don’t...” Hero begged and Villain didn’t care if hero fought or begged for that matter either. “Please-” Hero begged and did see villain smirk. Hero had never been so scared before, “I just want to see hsidekick. Please.”

“Keep begging, I like it that way.” Villain enjoyed this. “I have wanted to test this for a while now, I don’t think you are going to die. I hope you won’t.” 

Suddenly the pain escalated fast and hero screamed. Felt tears, and pain. What this was going to do hero didn’t know, only that it felt like they were going to die. Their nails dug into their palms, but they didn’t feel it. It wasn’t any end to the pain. 

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

Quiet. Sweet quiet. With Hero’s blurry sight, they realized they were in a cell. Alone? “Oow!” Their movement is still slow, and their head hurt. “What happened?” But they weren’t alone, the cells were separated. Hsidekick was on their right side, in another cell. “Hsidekick” hero wanted to reach to them.

“Hero, are you okay?” Hsidekick asked, “what have they done to you?” Hero shook their head, didn’t know, but hsidekick didn’t look so hurt. 

Hero forced themselves to stand up, “do you remember the last time we trained and you almost won?” 

Hsidekick nodded, “I remember.” Stod against the bar, “you look like shit.”

Hero laughed, that’s the only reaction they could show right now. “You probably the strongest right now, I don’t feel like myself anymore.” Hero answered and usually, they never would have begged for mercy. “Hsidekick, we’re fucked.”

“Not yet, we’re can do anything together.” 

Hero couldn’t stop laughing, “always so positive. I’m fucked, I am poisoned. It’s okay for now, but eventually, I will die.” They didn’t like it, but the truth was just that. Hsidekick looked shocked and sad. Hero already knew they would try to fix this, “villain will never tell what they used and if you ask you will get in trouble” 

“I think we’re already in trouble, and you have paid your price.” Hsidekick said, and it was the fact that it was words they both already knew, “what are they going to do with me?” Hero let go, sat down. Sighed, “hero?”

“I don’t know. Count on something terrible- And it probably will hurt too.” Hero declared, met hsidekicks eyes. “I should never have left.”

Do you like what you read send me an ask or a message. I would love to hear from you.

[animatedminds]

What If: Every Character In Dragonball FighterZ Had a Dramatic Finish? (Pt. 1)

Consider this a nerdy thought experiment. I’m a big Dragonball fan, and a big FighterZ fan, and anyone who is either probably knows well by know what Dramatic Finishers are: in one of the most amazing steps of fanservice in recent memory, Arcsys created intricate animated adaptations of some of Dragonball’s greatest moments, which can be triggered in special situations. Huge explosions, great comebacks, cool ends to some of the series hypest fights.

But it gets you thinking - and its something that a lot of fans have asked since the game started: which if X or Y character had a Dramatic Finish, instead of the select few who have some in the current build?

Well, over the next few days we’re going to figure that out. With DLC on the way bringing us a brand new and thoroughly expected Finish for Kefla, this seemed like a great time to do it. Now, let’s be clear: this isn’t an attempt to say that all of these characters should get a Dramatic Finish. Arcsys’ style of animation these days is very intricate and extremely time consuming, which makes any new animation something of a godsend in the first place. As a result, not only are most of the characters who don’t already have one probably not going to get one, I wouldn’t be surprised if most of them weren’t ever considered at all. This is more as a hypothetical: if these characters were considered, what would their Finishes be? What references would be best for them, to give cool moments from Dragonball history? To give another note, for this the point is to ensure every character gets an appearance in a Dramatic Finish. Not necessarily a win (that’s simply not possible for everyone). Some of these characters are going to have losses listed. Some might even have to make due with Dramatic Openings instead. For the most part, we won’t be assuming the existence of any characters who aren’t currently in the game: it has to be within the current roster.

You can listen along to the entire list right now if you don’t want to read a wall of text over the course of several day: just check out the track on Soundcloud! It’s everyone from the beginning to the end of the roster, with dulcet tones and some neat Dragonball music.

But... if you don’t have the time to hear nerd talk for twenty minutes, go ahead: we’re skipping the ones who already have one - I mention them all on the audio even though I still skip them, just for completeness (and so people don’t ask me why I didn’t think of other ones for existing characters) and in order to make quips - but this is going to be shorter.

Part 1, we’ll go over the first three characters - mostly the Dragonball era with one addition - and so the first character to not to have a Dramatic Finish is...

Tien (or Tenshinhan, depending on your version)

Tien spends a lot of time away from the plot - unlike most of the cast, when he’s not there to do something significant he’s typically just absent, only appearing when he does. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have options for a Finish: far from it. I can think of at least two that would make decent choices.

The first is probably the one everyone thinks of when they think of Tien: the moment where stalls Cell with the Kikoho, blasting him into the dirt repeatedly to give 18 and 16 time to escape. It’s a classic epic scene with Tien, and one that a lot of people remember:

A couple caveats with this one: first being that this wasn’t actually a Finish - Cell gets ups just fine afterwards - but if Base Goku’s Finish against Freeza is any indication, that’s not necessarily a problem if the scene is a strong enough moment. The other is that the version of Cell that this happens to - Semi-Perfect Cell - is not strictly in the game: its Perfect Cell. But the game has cheated with this as well in the past. The stage this would happen, however, is already in the game - so no problems there.

It’s not hard to  see how this would work. The typical Dramatic Finish beginning, Cell  looks up and finds Tien already above him, ready to rain Kikohos down  upon him. The way I see this working best is similar to those infamous  Quan Chi and Chronika fatalities in the Mortal Kombat series - the ones  that don’t ever actually end, they just keep going over and over until  the players ends or (more likely for this game) the screen transitions  to the next on its own. Here, you could have Tien just keep Kikohoing  again and again until the Victory Marquee comes up on its own. Very funny, very epic.

The second idea, however, is one I think is  better reference for Tien himself - one of the classic moments from when  his character was more current: the time he narrowly defeated Kid Goku  at the Tenkaichi Budokai:

Albeit without the blowing up the stage on this one.

This fight involved Goku and Tien going at it in midair: Tien able to fly, while Goku couldn’t at the time - they end up plummeting to the ground, but only one is able to avoid a ring out. It’s another one with that same caveat: Kid Goku is technically not in the game, but GT Goku is basically the same character with  few additions, so he can easily be used as a stand-in. This one would also give the World Martial Arts Tournament stage something special, which it doesn’t have yet.

For this, have the fight continue into the scene - a la Super Broly’s - and end up in midair, where they both start to lose steam. Goku knocks Tien down, but Tien is able to knock Goku away. A fun extra they could do is - since the original version had Goku fall into a highway and get his by a car - do like the Jiren Finish and change stages in the middle of the scene, ending at the City. Goku crashes (complete with car, for fun), Tien doesn’t, and the latter enjoys a weary victory pose. Next up:

Piccolo (or if you know what moment I’m thinking of already, Piccolo Jr)

Piccolo, while he’s always around in roles of semi-importance, is another who was phased out of a major slot in favor of stronger rivals and later characters. But he’s always good for a least one awesome moment per arc, and there’s one major scene in particular that I think would be perfect for a Dramatic Finish:

The end of his fight against Goku at the World Martial Arts tournament.

This scene is actually - to me - a no brainer: it and the moment against Piccolo Daimao where the moments where the series really started getting into having villain defeats with built-up, dramatic physical conclusions, and the defeat of Piccolo Jr in particular was the culmination of everything that came before it. I was actually surprised that when Base Goku was released, and this moment wasn’t added in addition to the Saiyan Saga content: I was at least expecting moments from this fight to be represented in Base Goku’s moveset, as it features such identifiable things to draw from. Either way, there are two moments from this fight that would work in a Finish - the second, incidentally, happens immediately after the first, but either would work. The first being what the Budokai games eventually named the “Meteor Combination” - where Goku seems to defeat Piccolo once and for all after blocking his ultimate attack.

Not going to lie, this ranks pretty high one my personal list of the best action sequences in the entire franchise - it’s pictured above for a reason - and I’m a little disappointed I couldn’t find a video clip with the whole bit beforehand with Piccolo’s explosive attack as well.

It’s a triumphant turnaround, a very dramatic conclusion with a lot of flow and weight, and would be perfect animated in a Dramatic finish. Plus, it’s another that gives the Tournament stage some content. You could either have it begin like Cell’s Dramatic Finish - where Piccolo attempts an attack (the Destructive Wave, in this case), only for Goku to turn it around, or you could simply have Goku go straight into the attack, knocking Piccolo to the ground and finishing with a titanic Kamehameha from above.

As I said before, it’s a little surprising they didn’t add it in some way already. End it with a thumbs up to the camera, like in the original scene, and you’re gold. Or...

The moment right after, where it turns out Piccolo is just faking his defeat, and turns it around only to be defeated by Goku in the end anyway:

This is the infamous one where Piccolo tortures Goku, but that doesn’t have to fully be in the Finish. In this one, you would start the Dramatic Finish with Piccolo getting knocked down, and Goku giving that thumbs up I was telling you about... but then Piccolo hops up and blasts Goku through the shoulder - which is easily done bloodlessly. He then presses the attack, laying on the ground, broken, and is about to torture him, when... For this next part, you could either require Tien and Krillin (or Yamcha) on our team alongside Base Goku to perform, or you could do it with whatever teammates you have: they jump in to help Goku, but Piccolo blocks them with a ki attack. Then he looks down, and finds that Goku is gone! He looks about to find Goku rocketing at him to deliver a titanic headbutt that ends the fight for good. In the source, after getting healed Goku did a dramatic leap into the air to celebrate finally winning the tournament - without a healing segment, that can just happen automatically, and that would be a fine last image of the Finish.

With Piccolo out of the way, the next characters up for a Finish skip a whole saga, and go straight to...

The Ginyu Force

This one took a bit of thinking, as all the Ginyu members fought individually, and most against different characters, but I realized if I was going to pick one there was really only the one option: The moment where Ginyu tries to body change with Vegeta, and ends up in the form of a frog.

Forgive the lack of embedded video on this one - it’s potholed above, but I didn’t want the first post to just be two characters, and alas with the combination of Tumblr’s five vid limit, my coming up with two legit ideas each for the previous two (that won’t happen often for the rest), and needing two entire videos for just one of the Piccolo ideas, I ran out of embeds. Still, this one is a keeper.

This would be a Base Vegeta win, requiring Base Goku to be on his team. The original moment was all vertical: Ginyu flew up in the air and Vegeta flew up after him, but you could just finagle it and do it horizontally instead to cut back on extra animation. The set up for this is simple as anything: do the knockback, trigger the Finish, Ginyu gets furious - while Vegeta is too arrogant to notice - and starts the Body Change, catching Vegeta off guard. At the last second, Goku throws a frog in between them, and Ginyu is left stuck croaking. The last shot - like the Janemba Finish - could be the POV of Frog Ginyu as he runs away, while regular Ginyu hops around like a frog. This more funny that epic, but it is a very memorable part of the Freeza arc, and definitely the most memorable thing attached to Captain Ginyu himself, so in my opinion its the best bet for him.

And that’s the first three: 

There’ll be more than three in the next segment, trust me.

If you like the idea, happy to have you. Make sure to listen to the full track on Soundcloud if you just want the list right away without waiting a day for each installment, and let me know if you agree with the list or not - what you would pick instead, that sort of thing. Either way, stay Sparking!

[five-wow]

here are some thoughts from my (first, somewhat late) watch of 10.15!

we start off with adam intimidating a minion and threatening his life while they’re reburying three bodies. cool. this is totally something he can come back from.

joanna! danny’s mystery woman has a name! i very vaguely caught some annoyance/confusion about her name here on tumblr because apparently somewhere else (outside of the episodes, i assume?) she’d been called something else, if i understood correctly? but seeing as i missed most of that, i’m honestly just glad she has a name now.

also! joanna texting her sister/friend (i don’t really know who she is for sure?) that she met a guy at a bar - thank god, tbh, because last episode it looked like she just randomly had sex with a stranger (which is fine) and then got into his car to let him drive her home (which is not fine, because we may know danny is an okay guy, but she had no earthly way of knowing that).

“it wasn’t your fault. you did everything you could. it means a lot to me that you’re here.” kudos to sister/friend for not falling into the trap of blaming danny and piling onto his guilt subplot!

STEVE is WAITING OUTSIDE when danny leaves the morgue, oh god. that makes total sense and i’m glad for it, but i somehow didn’t expect them to show that.

steve: “you wanna talk about it?” nothing super clever to say here, but it just make me really, really happy every single time steve asks danny if he wants to talk about something (or just pushes him into it, ocassionally) because!! that’s good!! that’s healthy!! that’s a really good friendship, and i’m proud of steve. (on a slightly related note, i’ve been watching a lot of 9-1-1 and reading some fic and while a lot of that fic is really fun, i kind of feel like many of the writers in that fandom give eddie at least double the capability to deal with emotional turmoil in himself or others that he is shown to have in canon. eddie diaz is basically what danny sometimes accuses steve of being, only eddie is actually closed off and struggling with repressing everything he ever feels that much, and steve has by this point had years to learn healthier ways of coping and he is not that person anymore, at all. he knows how to talk about emotions and he does it, too, and the funny thing is that i’m pretty sure he learned a lot of that by making danny talk to him about danny’s emotions, which steve did all the time right from the very start because he cares about danny and wants him to be mentally happy and healthy, and tl;dr, steve and danny’s friendship makes them both happier, more emotionally stable people and that makes me emotional.)

tani teaching a class at the police academy and bonnie (grover’s niece) absolutely acing all her classes and tani and bonnie hanging out and getting lunch together and tani subtly mentoring bonnie IS ALL VERY GOOD.

fdjfkdjkfd oh god. i was so happy with this scene and then suddenly bonnie has a boyfriend and it’s the dude who buried bodies with adam a moment ago. so... is he a bad guy (i hope not, because i’m already a little tired at the idea of another cool female character getting in trouble all the time because she’s dating yakuza and that’s for some reason the most interesting thing the writers could think to do with her), or is he undercover? is adam undercover? are they BOTH undercover but they don’t know it about the other guy so they just keep committing crimes to look like badass criminals when really they’re just both trying to catch the other in a seriously bad crime?

oh god, there’s this whole scene with the academy recruits on the shooting range and tani keeps drilling them on shooting faster (which i have... thoughts about, too, but let’s not get into that) and they make it really explicit that bonnie is the fastest and definitely faster than her boyfriend and this, uh, really looks like foreshadowing for bonnie ending up having to draw her weapon on the boyfriend at some point.

adam to lou: “thanks for the coffee date.” i must say, very unexpected ship they’re pushing now. :p

adam: [starts saying things, possibly making up excuses] lou: “no, no, come on, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” let the man talk, lou!!! if you don’t want to hear it, i do.

ahhhh, lou is keeping adam occupied while steve searches adam’s apartment. things are making more sense now. (though lou does call steve to tell him to wrap things up like a minute after his coffee date with adam started, and also at most a dozen feet away from adam where chances are definitely above zero of adam being able to hear him, fjdkdf.)

steve had “a feeling” about adam. no need to be so jealous, danny.

wait, wait, adam is back on five-0? i... they probably showed or mentioned that in a recent episode, i think, but apparently i’ve really just been turning my brain off during this subplot because i do not remember that at all. (this is why i like bingewatching things, because at least then i have a clearer picture of what happened in the episodes right before, gosh.)

danny: “... but the point is that if i was a human being...” love it. love the subtle implication that danny is not a human being, but in fact an alien from new jersey, which as we all know is in outer space.

bonnie’s boyfriend is not officially bonnie’s boyfriend yet and she thinks he might be seeing someone on the side, and this is sad because as viewers we all know that that someone IS ADAM (and three dead guys). just not like that, though. probably.

bonnie: [tells tani her potential bf has two phones] tani: “hm, okay. this one’s easy: run.” YES. PLEASE DO.

quinn!!! i was starting to wonder if this was one of those mysteriously quinn-less episodes.

oh nooo, bonnie sneaks around potential bf’s house and then STEPS ON A TWIG. c’mon, girl.

fdjkfd the guys catch her and now i remember that this episode description said she was going to get kidnapped and adam would help get her back. this will be... interesting.

quinn’s awkward face while lou is yelling in surprise about bonnie having a boyfriend is absolute gold.

lou yells at tani for not telling him anything about the boyfriend yesterday but honestly, she does not deserve that.

also: all those dramatic shots on adam’s face, oh dear. is the rest of the team seeing that expression he has? are they seeing all these close-ups?

adam threatens his yakuza rival in an effort to help get bonnie back. is this supposed to be redemption for adam? i’m confused.

lou says it’s not tani’s fault and he apologizes! this is an episode of people realizing they shouldn’t put the blame on innocent bystanders (instead of one that attempts to heighten the drama by milking misplaced anger for all that it’s worth) and i like it.

siobhan has been tied up in some shed in the woods and endo (the potential boyfriend) is feeling bad about it but is unwilling to untie her, god. (quick detour, though: i’ve been wondering this since the beginning of the episode, but how is siobhan even at the hpd academy now? i was under the impression during her first appearance this season that she was in her last year of high school, so when did she even graduate?)

i do feel for endo (which i like! it’s cool to see a Bad Guy be not pure evil but believably conflicted), but leaving your almost-girlfriend in a cabin in the woods for your godfather to “take care of it” with a sad look and “i’m really sorry” is not the best of moves, my dude.

tani and quinn: we have good news! hpd intercepted endo and steve and lou are about to question him! adam: [sweats]

endo lies his ass off in interrogation which makes him interesting but also costs him a lot of sympathy points from my end.

lou pretty much assaults endo while he’s cuffed to a chair in the interrogation room. i get why these emotions make for good tv, but uh, hm, maybe five-0 should at some point consider a policy of not letting people who are personally involved in cases near suspects, because this does kind of seem to keep happening.

jfdkfd, adam confronts endo in lock-up, endo taunts him and says adam can’t tell anyone in five-0 what he knows because he’d have to tell them how he knows endo, the team finds out that endo has yakuza ties and go to confront endo about it and he’s gone. omfg, adam, how are you managing to fuck your own life up this effectively in such a short amount of time, after you fought all those years to get away from everything you’re doing now?

siobhan gets herself free!!! and then runs right into guys with guns outside the cabin, of course, because this is tv timing, but still, WELL DONE.

fdjkfdkjfd, adam’s brilliant plan to solve the situation is to call up the rival yakuza boss and threaten to kill his godson out of revenge. this is. this is maybe not a great idea.

adam: “in case you haven’t been paying attention, kenji, i’m not afraid of much these days.” oh adam, buddy, don’t brag about misplacing the entirety of your common sense.

the team is watching adam load endo into the back of a car on tape and it’s honestly kind of hilarious. steve asks danny how he would explain this and that’s hilarious, too, because they���re seeing their (ex-?)friend load a stolen suspect into a car to run off with him, thereby betraying all of them and everything they stand for, and steve is taking this opportunity to turn to danny and go “see, i was right”. fjdkfd.

steve’s gut says adam will come through for them in delivering siobhan, and we all know steve’s gut is secretly psychic, so that’s a spoiler. :p

and it does happen!!! i’m glad to see bonnie back in a safe place.

oh god. adam randomly appears from between the foilage to look serious and share a meaningful nod with steve. is he... is he officially on the other side now? they’re not still going to let him be part of five-0, are they?

domestic steve and danny in the(ir) kitchen!!! steve is giving eddie danny’s breakfast!!! and then there’s something about endo having hacked into hpd’s database, because of course they need to attach some ongoing threat to this, but honestly, who cares about plot when there’s “don’t shame my dog. i’m cooking you eggs, alright?” and danny saying steve doesn’t have to cook him eggs but steve already doing it anyway while danny is once again randomly sitting on the kitchen counter and steve cuts danny off before danny can request his eggs a little burned because steve already knows how danny likes his eggs, obviously, because steve is a stalker when it comes to danny. yes!! this is stuff i like a lot.

danny is saying he could probably get out of steve’s space soon and steve has the excuse of very intently (and yet somehow also very badly, it looks like) scrambling those eggs, but he’s also definitely, 100% avoiding looking at danny in that moment, and then he starts saying how there’s no paint yet and that’s bad and danny should stay. just. just move in together officially, you guys. just do it. nobody would be surprised. you know it would make both of you very happy. this is not even a ship thing, but just, oh my god, these two humans so clearly want to be in each other’s space and they keep coming up with excuses and getting this close to admitting that maybe neither of them wants danny to leave and then yelling at each other about eggs and how it’s not bacon day. it can be bacon day, steve. it could even be pancake day. it could be pancake day every day for the rest of your natural lives if you just told danny you wanted that.

overall, this was a very fun episode! i’m honestly just really happy with this season in general - quinn being added to the team does maybe not look like much progress on the subject of female characters, because she’s just one person, but there have been SO MANY scenes of her and tani together by now and genuinely, their friendship is healing my soul and watering my crops. i’m still not sure what to make of the adam subplot, but if they’re doing what it kind of looks like they’re doing - permanently putting him on the other side of the fence, back with the yakuza - that could actually be somewhat interesting. i’m just really, really scared that even after all of this they’re going to try to give him some kind of redemption arc that just has no chance of making sense anymore after everything that’s happened.

[roachspraee]

Heroes Can’t Fall In Love

Into the Spiderverse: Miles Morales X Reader Fanfiction

Welcome to my first tumblr post EVER. I can’t guarantee that it’ll be any good, but I can guarantee that I did in fact, had a lot of fun writing this! I hope ya’ll enjoy~(｡◕‿‿◕｡)

-

"I think…I think I love them."

"Don't be demented Miles, you're a hero. Heroes can't fall in love."

-

A long, frustrated sigh escaped your lips while you looked at the concrete floor, walking passed buildings and people. It was a cloudy night, pretty chilly too. You hugged yourself tighter in attempts to heat yourself up, you didn't think the cold would phase you too much.

But the cold didn't really bother you. It didn't bother you because you were deep in thought, and a certain someone was on your mind. You blinked your eyes rapidly, trying to make the coldness in your eyes fade away, only for it to fail.

Miles, a good friend of yours has been rather distant for the past few months, and you had no idea why. Not the slightest clue. And if you were going to be honest with yourself, it concerned you.

And it hurt.

Because every time you tried to talk or approach him, he'd respond with short answers or avoid you. And it hurt you. Because you didn't know what you did wrong. And you have had about enough.

You were going to get through to him once and for all.

You missed him. You missed spending time with him. You missed his smile, his laughter and the conversations you'd have. Whatever you did, you want to make it up to him. You weren't too sure where you went wrong, though.

But that didn’t matter, you just wanted your friend back.

You checked your phone with a shaky hand, it was 9 o' clock. You knew you weren't supposed to leave your dorms passed 6 PM, but you had to get your mind off school…and Miles.

Quickly, you ran back to campus, almost flying over the steps leading up to where the boy's dorms were. It was late, but this was the perfect time to confront Miles, at least...that's what you thought.

You made it to the front of his door with your heart thrumming violently against your ribcage. You raised your fist, about to knock on his door but you stopped. What if he just brushes you off like he does every day? You would've wasted your time.

You shook your head. No. You must talk to him. He's your friend. Your heart longs to see him, so just give it what it wants.

A loud series of knocks filled the halls, the wood against your knuckles were cold. You stopped, waiting for a response.

Nothing.

You sighed, looking at your feet in disappointment, "I know you're in there Miles. Please answer the door."

Slight shuffling was audible on the other side of the wooden door. Yup, he was definitely in there.

But he refused to answer.

"C'mon Miles! Talk to me. I miss you. Can we just talk this out?" Your voice was shaky, was this even a good idea?

Then you heard mumbling. You pressed your ear against the door and concentrated on the conversation. He was talking with his roommate, but you could barely understand what they were saying.

"I think you should talk to them dude."

That was the only clear thing you could pick up with your ears. After a few split seconds, you heard a loud sigh with footsteps following soon after. A gasp escaped your lips as you jumped back just in time for the door to open, revealing a very pissed off Miles. But you could see the nervousness in his eyes.

"What do you want." It was more of a statement rather than a question. You were taken aback by the sudden rude tone of his usual kind, soft voice. Sweat started to form under your brows. You swallowed a thick ball of saliva before speaking,

"W-why have you been avoiding me Miles? Is something the matter?" There was a pause, and you saw Miles break the eye contact with you, looking away only to meet your gaze again. He shrugged, "Nope."

Nope? Was that all he had to say? You were beginning to get frustrated with his short replies.

"Then why haven’t you been talking to me? Did I do something wrong?" Miles let out a breath to your response.

"It's late, you should head back to your dorm y/n." He turned back, grabbing the door to close it behind him, but your hand stopped him. He turned back to you with a look of annoyance planted onto his, quite handsome, face, "Can't you take a damn hint? I don't wanna talk to you."

Those words made you flinch. You knew that, you knew that for a while now. But it hurt hearing him say it out loud. You wanted an explanation.

"Why!? What did I do to make you so angry with me? Stop avoiding me and tell me what I did wrong dammit!" You yelled angrily. His eyes suddenly widened and he stopped.

"Fuck." He growled, then unexpectedly ran passed you and sprinted down the hall, leaving his door swinging open. You were puzzled and concerned, why did he just run off?

You found yourself running after him, hearing Miles' roommate yell 'Follow him' from across the hall. You decided not to yell back, worried that you'd disturb the other kids sleeping in their dorms, but you took his words to heart.

The feeling of your legs and feet throbbing was overwhelming you, you hadn't ran this fast in a while. But Miles was getting further and further away, you could barely see him through all the darkness. Not even the street lights were enough to see where you properly placing your steps.

You saw Miles make a sharp turn into an alleyway. Something told you proceeding wasn't a good idea, but you ignored the smart part of your brain. The sound of your blood pumping into your ears was all you could hear. You were sprinting so fast you could barely feel the ground beneath your feet.

You suddenly tripped over something, and before you knew it, your face came in contact with the ground. The impact itself hurt like hell, but the sheer pain that came after was almost unbearable.

"Shit," You hissed, feeling warm liquid drip down your face. You brought you fingers up against your forehead, bringing them back into your field of vision only to see blood cover them. You ignored your injury, slowly got up, and continued your way down the alleyway.

You came into an open area, only to have your eyes widen at the sight of Spiderman fighting a large looking man with a weapon you've never seen before. He had pale skin, and odd symbols tattooed onto his skin. He chuckled, firing a strange substance from his weapon, aiming at Spiderman.

"I've been wanting to fight you for a while now, kid." The villain said lowly, watching Spiderman's every move. His eyes were like daggers, and his grin had nothing but pure insanity behind it.

"Really? Cause I've never heard of you buddy." Spiderman said, swinging from wall to wall, grabbing objects and throwing them at the man. He shot them all down with his weapon, "Must be a fan, huh?"

"You have some nerve defeating King Pin like that. I'm just here to pay him a favor." He picked up a large piece of broken wall, and chucked it at the hero. Spiderman moved out of the way and shrugged casually, "I was just doin' my job. Someone's gotta protect the people of Brooklyn."

His voice sounded familiar. Almost like you've heard it before. You were surprised the two men haven't notice you, after all, you're standing in the open. You watched in awe as the hero and the villain fought. You've only ever seen this in movies and comics. But you never expected to see Spiderman this up close before.

Your mind went blank when you realized the man looked over at you. Complete and utter fear took over, and you froze, unable to move a single muscle.

"What have we got here?" Sweat started to drip down your back, despite the cold. The look of his piercing eyes paralyzed you, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Looks like someone wanted to join the party." He aimed his weapon towards you and the next second an unknown substance surrounded your form. Your body felt tight and numb, you could barely breathe. Sharp stabs of pain shot all throughout your body and you screamed. The pain was nothing like you felt before. You were going to die if you didn’t escape.

Your mind became blurry, spots of black filled your vision. You were slipping in and out of consciousness.

You looked over to Spiderman, and he was yelling out your name. Confusion laced your heart, and pain was all you could feel. How did he know your name?

Then his mask was off, and then you saw it.

Miles.

You were in Spiderman's arms when you opened your eyes, he was flying. You were flying. And another second you were on the ground in another dimly lit alleyway, the only thing lighting it up was the apartments above.

"y/n??" Your mind became clear, and you met with the eyes of Miles Morales. You felt his hands grip onto your shoulders tightly, "Are you okay?" Your eyes widened in shock, the sudden realization that Spiderman was in fact, Miles this whole time made you shiver in his presence.

You pushed him away with widened eyes, "M-Miles? You're Spiderman!?" Miles' eyes narrowed into a glare with anger in his eyes. His brows lowered and his lips turned into a scowl, "Why the hell did you follow me y/n!? You could have DIED!"

"Why would you care if I died huh?!" You yelled back, your hands clenched into fists.

"Because I do! You're my friend y/n-"

"Bullshit! You don't give a fuck about me!" You spat, your eyes became blurry as you screamed, "You never did! So stop wasting your meaningless words on me!" Miles' eyes widened, his fake glare vanishing into a look of hurt.

But you didn't stop. You were going to make him feel the pain you've been feeling for months.

"I knew you didn’t like me the moment we made eye contact! I knew you have been using me! What am I to you, huh? Just a tool? A toy!? A little friend you can use when you're bored, than toss aside when you're done!?" Tears rolled down your face. Your heart began to ache, begging for you to stop.

Pain and sadness swirled within his beautiful brown orbs, and it hurt you. You were hurting him.

"You're an idiot! I hate you Miles! I-mmph!"

Miles slammed his lips against yours, in a needy, greedy kiss. His soft lips molded perfectly with yours, and you made no attempts to pull away. Your hands traveled up his face and into his fluffy hair. His hand cupped your cheek while the other griped your waist, pulling you closer to him. His body was hot against yours, your chest was pressed against his and his hands was sweet and gentle to the touch.

You knew you wanted this. You've wanted to kiss his lips, and to feel him for so long. Is this real?

You pulled away when your lungs threatened for air. Yup, this is real alright. Miles pressed his forehead against yours, his hot breath against your face as he smiled sweetly at you. The look of pure love and warmth replaced the sad, hurt in his eyes.

Guilt suddenly overcame you, and you looked away, ashamed that you had said such horrible things to someone you cared deeply for.

"I'm sorry." You said honestly, sorrow and regret filling your heart. Miles lifted your chin so you could meet his eyes, "Don't be. I deserved it. All of it. I was being a dick and I shouldn't have." He frowned.

"But why? Did I do something?" You asked, begging to know why he acted so distant and cold to you.

"I-" He stopped himself and looked away, "No, it wasn't you. Of course it wasn't you. It was me. I avoided you because…" He sighed and looked back at you with a look of shame and embarrassment, "I started to grow feelings towards you y/n. But I was scared. I was scared that if you dated a hero, you'd be put in a lot more danger." Tears started to form in his eyes, "Like t-today…you got so hurt." He looked at the cut in your forehead, gently caressing it with his finger.

"But it wasn't your fault Miles. It was mine. I decided to follow you. I decided to take the risk, not you." You said, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. You held his face in your hands, but despite the freezing cold of winter in Brooklyn, his cheeks were warm.

He shook his head, "You still got hurt because of me. I…" You leaned in to kiss him, but he gently pressed his hands against your chest and pushed you away, "I can't." He said, his voice cracked, it sounded so broken.

"I can't be with you." He said. Hurt, once again, was all you could feel. Your heart throbbed in pain, you gave him a look of pure disbelieve, "What?" Shock layered your voice.

You took a step towards him, "Yes you can Miles. We can be together. You said you had feelings for me…I don't understand." He didn’t look you in the eyes. More tears fell down his face, a shaky breath escaped his soft lips before he spoke,

"Heroes can't fall in love y/n. I can't be distracted with love when I have a whole city to protect."

"Who ever said heroes can't fall in love? Miles, Peter had Mary Jane-"

"And where's Peter?" Miles interrupted, his voice suddenly went dark. You went silent, your eyes widened with your mouth slightly agape.

Miles sighed, "That's what I thought." He turned to leave, but you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him from behind. You buried your face into his back, tears falling like waterfalls from your eyes.

"Please Miles! Don't do this. I know you want me! You know I want you too." You sobbed, hugging him close to you.

You felt Miles' body become stiff, then you heard him quietly gasp, like he was trying so desperately to hold back his tears from falling anymore.

"I lost my uncle. I can't lose you too," His voice was hoarse, like a cry from the brokenhearted just yearning to heal.

"Heroes can't fall in love." He repeats. Your body shakes with sadness and frustration, "You're wrong! Who told you that Miles? Who's keeping you from being mine!?" You cried into his Spiderman suit, not intending to let go anytime soon.

Silence filled the air, and the only thing you could hear was Miles' quiet sobs. It hurt you beyond what words can explain. You loved Miles. You knew you loved him.

"When the other Spider heroes from the other dimensions came into this universe, I had a one on one conversation with Noir…"

~Mini flashback~

"Ey kid," Noir greeted Miles with a small punch to the shoulder, "What'cha doin'?" The teen looked over to him with a small smile, "Hey Noir. Nothing much, just thinking."

"Thinking about what son?" Noir sat down beside Miles on the edge of a building, looking over the yellow sunset. Miles paused before quietly mumbling, "someone…"

Noir chuckled, shaking Miles by his shoulder, "Who?" Miles could hear the smug smirk on Noir's lips, his face began to heat up.

"What's their name?" Noir asked lightly, removing his hand from the boy's shoulder and leaned back, watching a bird fly past them.

"y/n."

Noir looked over to his young male counterpart. He could see the look on the young boy's face when he thought about the person he loved.

The older, wiser man sighed, placing his hand on Miles' shoulder again. Morales turned to look at Noir, a look of curiosity in his eyes.

"What do you feel about them?" Miles' was taken aback by the sudden question. He switched his gaze from his friend to his hands, "Well…they’re beautiful. They’re kind, and funny, and they’re always there for me when I need them the most. They help me when I'm struggling, and they never fail to make me smile."

“I love it when they ramble about what they wanna do in the future. How they wanna travel the world, how they wanna see the wonders of this planet. How they want to fall in love and start a family...” Miles had a look of adoration in his eyes, his lips turned upwards into a happy smile.

Noir waited for what Miles' was going to say next. He knew. He knew the exact words that were going to slip past his lips.

"I think…I think I love them." Miles said hesitantly. But Noir knew he meant it. The poor boy was helplessly in love.

"Don't be demented Miles, you're a hero. Heroes can't fall in love."

That was his harsh reality. And the look of pure confusion and heartbreak in Miles' eyes said it all.

He's helpless.

~End of flashback~

You stood in front of Miles', your eyes burning from the amount of tears that escaped your lids. Miles' was crying, and the things he was saying was incoherent. You held him in your arms, letting his tears soak your shirt.

"Noir gave you the wrong advice Miles.” You said, gently grabbing his face so he could look into your eyes, "You worry too much about what could happen, but you're not focusing on what you want to happen. I won't get hurt, and I won't die. Not if you're here to protect me." You said softly, kissing his tears away.

Miles' stuttered, "H-how do I know that? How do I know you won't get hurt because of me?" He wept. You gave him a warm smile, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his cheek with the other, "You're gonna need to trust me Miles'. Peter died for the sake of Brooklyn, he died for his wife. He loved her, and he still does." You pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes.

"And now you're here, taking his place. You can't let danger come in-between our love Miles. We're too strong for that." You brushed your lips against his, slowly bringing him into another warm passionate kiss.

"I love you y/n." Miles grinned, pressing kisses along your jawline,

You giggled, "I love you too Miles."

[50shadesofmittens]

Oh hey I finally did something Rapunzel.

It’s super fucking tropey and looks like a one-way relationship from the context here but oh well have fun. Thanks to @coaxionunlimited for doing the prompt-swap with me that led to this. I needed to write something TTS that was not-fluff and not-humor (too much 3TtD) and this came out, the emotional climax of a 300-page mega-fic that is not yet written

EDIT: I walk away for literally 20 seconds and get better ideas. So there’s been some minor changes to this. since it’s posting

At the base of the silver Tower, on the back of a rented camel, one lone Custodian disguised as a mutant Tzeentch worshipper (read: wearing a paper-mache mask over his helmet and a T-shirt over his armor that proclaims “I <3 Change”) stands planning the next step of his daring assault.

Then a red lasso grabs him and yanks him up to the highest floor, in through a hole in the liquid-solid walls that closes as soon as the Custodian is deposited on the floors.

“Are you insane? Do you realize what will happen if even a single daemon finds you here? I’ve found you here! Tzeentchhas to know by now, and if you’re still here that means this is all one of his plans. Probably to end with your humiliating death or corruption!”

“Nice to see you too, Magnus.” The Custodian groaned as he got up from the floor. “Was that a hair-lasso you grabbed me with?”

“Shapeshifting is the easiest spell for me to cast if I don’t want to be seen.” Magnus replied, his hair rapidly shortening back to its usual length. “Not that it works completely- there are some forces which can, if they/she/it/whatever the squid is right now choose so, can see everything I see. And since I’m on probation/house arrest, again, I’m being watched fairly closely right now. So if we’re going to get you out of here alive-”

“We’re not.” Magnus startled as the Custodian continued, “We’re staying on this planet, and getting the planet out of the Warp.”

“Have you gone completely mental?” Magnus barked out a laugh. “Wait- don’t tell me, I should’ve known  when you thought it was a good idea to come out here, alone, with just yourself and is that a camel?”

“Right behind you.” Sure enough, the camel had followed it’s rider up the tower. This rider gave her many head-pats and good oaty snacks. She liked head-pats.

“The fuck-” Magnus shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, you have to go, before whatever scheme this all is gets too complicated for me to pull you out.”

“And what if sending me away is the scheme? Hm?” The Custodian shrugged. “It’s not like you can prepare for every plan Tz- that one has. Weren’t you the one who decided that it was better to just work with what we had, than to think too hard about how to win?”

“That was a very different scenario. Besides which, I’m not trying to win- I’m just trying to get by. For now,” Magnus added hastily, “once I’m in a better position I can-”

“Stop. Just- before you tell me what your long-term goals, are tell me this: how do you plan to get into this ‘better position’ in the first place?”

“I’ll work with what I have, just like you said!”

“So, what, Tzeentch mentions he wants this subsector conquered, you work on it, get further into his good graces, and just keep going until he’ll let you be free?” The Custodian shook his head. “We both know it’s not going to work like that.”

“I don’t expect it to go that far. I just need enough to make things… better.”

“You’re mixing your goals up. You’re planning too far ahead where you should be thinking about the now, and you make your immediate plans where you should be thinking about the long-term.”

“At least I’m doing something.” Magnus snapped. “Isn’t that enough? I used to just wait, wait, wait, planning every step and making every choice based on a thousand pre-existing factors, until I got too lost in my own head. You helped me break out of that- and I’m grateful, really, I am. I’m so, so glad I met you.

“But please,” and Magnus took the Custodian’s gauntlets into his own hands, “don’t destroy yourself trying to save me. You already have- in more ways than you’ll ever know. If I’m to live with the memories of you as my guide, don’t make one of those memories be your death. That’s not how I want to repay you.

“Go home, [R E D A C T E D]. The other Custodes need their Captain General, and the Imperium needs its leader. Don’t throw all that you’ve accomplished away. I’m not worth it.”

“I’d debate you on several of those points,” the Captain General said, “but for now, I’ll settle on a question: are your sons worth it? Are your people?”

“Don’t.” Magnus pulled away, and he turned away. “Don’t ask that.”

“Magnus.”

“Don’t tell me to choose- between the one thing that’s made me happy and the duty that I’ve only just really started to love again- you know, ever since I got back, I keep seeing all the amazing things I knew before but kept missing or mistaking for something worse. ‘We humans have a peculiar ability to turn the worst, stupidest dystopian situation into stuff we can laugh  grimly at, I appreciate that.’”

“the-nothing-maker, early second millennium assorted internet. Volume, Tumblr.” The Captain General said, “I read you that one.”

“You use my words against me, I use your quotes against you.” Magnus said, though there was no bite in his words. “You know, in the few times I haven’t been alone here, everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. That you were tricking me into neglecting my kingdom so it’d fall into disarray, or were going to tell me to burn it all down so we could start over later.” Magnus sniffed. “It’s all rubbish. There might’ve been some downturns, but the working infrastructure hasn’t exactly collapsed without me- which is more than most daemon planets could say. Besides which, it’s not like I’ve been doing much governing since then.

“And the first offer you make is to save the planet- though if you were a daemon or another Tz-“ The Captain General made a loud noise of protest to keep Magnus from saying the whole name, “-follower, I could buy  that it’s some plan to destroy the planet, but… that’s not you. That’s the farthest thing from you. That’s why I- I can’t sit by while you’re destroyed.”

“Magnus.”

“No just-” Magnus swallowed hard and looked the Captain General in the eye. “Just listen to me. It- it’s crazy but… if I died there would be another war, big fucking whoop it must be Tuesday, but… if you died, I think the galaxy would become a little colder. Because every time I look at you and try to decipher what sort of man you are, I find something wonderful there. Every time. And you can be petty, hypocritical, and cowardly, but even when you are those things that… kindness, that spark that makes you shine is still there. It doesn’t shine consistently, but it never vanishes completely. And… there’s nothing else I’ve seen or heard of in this galaxy that can match that. Not the Gods, not my Father, and certainly not me.”

“Magnus…”

“I know you still think, somewhere deep down, that you’re not worth it, or that you could be replaced. But I’m telling you, you can’t.”

“Magnus.” The Captain General said, louder now, but something scratchy in his voice as though he was pushing back tears underneath the helmet. “I didn’t come here to die. I know you think- that the place you’re in and the person you are makes it impossible to get out but- you keep forgetting one key thing, in the way it most counts. Who you are.

“You’re the person who saved hundreds of thousands of entire civilizations worth of culture and history- through negotiation and diplomacy, and just giving them respect. If it wasn’t you, someone else would’ve done it, and they wouldn’t have been anywhere near as kind. We both know by now that the kindest thing would’ve been to have left the galaxy alone, but that wasn’t gonna happen, so you made it happen your way. No matter what anyone else said, or did, or how they mocked you for it- you did what you thought was right. Just like in the Heresy, your sons were kept from the war because you fought back against the poison in your soul, and kept them as far from the madness as you could.

“You’ve done a lot of evil, I’m never going to argue on that, but you’ve got a lot of drive to do good- and you’ve done a lot of good, over and over, from the moment you got the chance. What you did for me, during [REDACTED]

“[REDACTED]”

“[REDAC-] But you showed me that you want to go farther- and you are going farther, from the twisted paths that came before. You managed to hold out longer than any of your brothers (exceptmaybeMortarionI’mnotclearonthetimeline) when it came to corruption.”

“You...” Magnus said, “are the only person in the galaxy who truly believes that intentions have any value.”

“Maybe that’s because the galaxy doesn’t value people’s hearts enough. That life is so disposable nobody bothers trying to help the hurting. I think that’s bullshit. And Magnus, you stood up with me against the indecisive squid once before, and with your help I won. Now, I’m asking you to stand with me once again.

“Please, Magnus.” The Captain General held out his hand, “trust me?”

And Magnus closed his eye, sighed deeply, shook his head, opened his eye, then reached out and took his hand. “Okay.” He said, voice breaking, “What must I do?”

[woeismyhoe]

Azula’s behavior as a child

There’s so much misunderstanding about Azula’s behavior as a child. Often they’re exaggerated to the point that a simple making fun of a sibling will turn into ‘emotional abuse’. This post will go into every action that Azula has ever done that majority of the fandom deems apparently monstrous, and will explain why it’s actually illogical to call her a monster and an abuser for it. These points that I will counter are usually used by the majority that I’ve encountered on Tumblr/Instagram/YouTube/Reddit, in case some of you are doubtful that such arguments even exist.

1. Azula asking about the throne’s line of succession

People refer to Azula’s question here as cruel and monstrous because she was essentially wishing for Iroh’s death, but that’s not true. She was asking IF Ozai would be next in line to throne if Iroh were to fall in battle, and that’s actually comepletely normal for a child.

She wasn’t wishing for Iroh’s death. She was just asking out of curiosity if her father would be Fire Lord next. It was an insensitive question I admit, but children normally are insensitive. Every one of us have thought or maybe even asked about someone’s death whether as a child or as an adult. Just because it’s not a family member’s death that you thought of doesn’t mean you’re excused from being called insensitive or as the fandom generally calls it, a ‘monster’.

Here’s an example: Have you ever thought of who would be next in line to the throne if Queen Elizabeth II were to pass?

If you have wondered about this question or something similar to it, does this mean you want the Queen to die? No. You’re just curious about who will succeed her.

Or how about a more realistic thought that involves your family: Why hasn’t your father/mother gotten lung cancer even if they’ve been smoking for decades?

We’re taught in school that smoking cigarettes causes lung cancer, yet why hasn’t that person gotten that yet? Does that mean we want them to die? No. We just want to know WHY it’s that way even though they should’ve had it by now.

Questions regarding someone’s eventual death whom we personally know is actually normal, but not accepted and generally frowned upon in society. Children usually ask these questions and they’re forgiven because they have yet to understand how society works yet.

Point is, curiosity makes us ask questions. Children ask a lot of questions, especially when they’re curious about a lot of things. Azula was curious, and that’s why she asked. She didn’t realize it was actually insensitive until Zuko used their father as an example. Yes, Azula was perceptive and intelligent even as a child, but smart children are also known to be way more curious than other children. Also, Azula wouldn’t be asking this question if she actually knew the answer to it.

If Iroh were to fall in battle, it wouldn’t be Ozai who would be next in line but actually Lu Ten (who was still alive at that moment). The fact that she did not mention Lu Ten at all during this only means that she wasn’t completely aware about the line of succession. Ursa failed to answer her daughter’s question properly and to address this to which I have no idea why. It was either the Fire Nation was under Agnatic seniority... but that can’t be it since Azula was going to become Fire Lord and Zuko’s daughter, Izumi, has also become Fire Lord in the future or that Azula was simply not aware of the line of succession since she was just a kid after all.

2. Azula’s indifference to Lu Ten’s death.

We don’t know much or basically anything at all about Lu Ten, his personality or his relationships with the rest of his family but one thing’s for sure is that Azula wasn’t exactly indifferent towards his death. Before the letter of Lu Ten’s death had arrived, Azula and Zuko were chasing each other and laughing, enjoying themselves (sigh such a precious scene). Then Ursa reads the letter, Zuko approaches her out of concern and he’s shocked by the news of his cousin’s death.

Now look at Azula behind him. What is she doing? She’s holding her hands in front of her. I’ve read up about body language, trying to understand what Azula’s was saying and this was what I found. This is a position called ‘The Fig Leaf’. People generally clasp their hands in front of them when they feel vulnerable, uncomfortable at that moment and this position can normally be seen in funerals as well.

Azula was uncomfortable by the news of her cousin’s death. This can be seen from her body language. Now think, if Azula was cruel and didn’t care for anyone’s life, then don’t you think that she would’ve made a really rude and insensitive remark at that moment? If the creators wanted to portray her that negatively, she would have, but she didn’t.

Now when she critizes Iroh for abandoning the siege, it makes sense. From Azula’s perspective, Iroh’s action was an act of someone weak. He was Fire Nation’s greatest asset, a renowned General who’s taken thousands of lives, yet when his son dies, its somehow only then that he realizes that his killings actually have an effect on families. What? That was also what the families of those fallen soldiers were thinking when they had suddenly retreated. There’s also that possibility that Azula could’ve thought that Iroh was dishonoring Lu Ten by abandoning the siege. Iroh retreating from Ba Sing Se would’ve just meant that Lu Ten died for nothing. And that’s true. As a leader, you’re expected to put everyone else before you, no matter what happens. Iroh didn’t do that.

“A real general would stay and burn Ba Sing Se to the ground, not come home crying.”

- Again, true. Yes it was a tragedy that his only son had fallen in battle, but Iroh still had a duty to fulfill which was to lead his nation to victory. He abandoned that duty of his instead. If anything his son’s death should’ve made Iroh want to avenge his son’s death. It wasn’t as if he fought again after his son’s death and he retreated because they were losing, no. They were actually winning. He just retreated. Think about those soldiers who had fallen in battle. They went to war, knowing that they would die. They had accepted that fate because they knew they were giving their service to their nation. Their families knew that as well. But Iroh’s sudden retreat had only meant that those soldiers had died in vain.

“He (Iroh) didn’t take the Earthbenders’ defenses and their resolve seriously enough, and it cost him dearly.”

- Azula, Tale of Azula

Azula wasn’t taking pleasure in Lu Ten’s death or making fun of it. She even admitted that Lu Ten’s death was a great loss. No, she was just criticizing Iroh for abandoning his duties.

3. Azula’s mistreatment of animals/plants

Her abuse of the turtle ducks

I’ve addressed the turtle duck scene in another post but long story short— we’ve never actually seen or even heard from Zuko that Azula had directly thrown the bread at the ducks. His reaction towards mimicking Azula even contradicts the assumption that Azula actually harmed those ducks.

Mistreatment of flowers

Ok honestly, I find it ridiculous and just really desperate that people use this as one of their reasons to prove that Azula was cruel and a monster. Burning flowers, really? She was a firebender, a kid who was bored and being neglected by her mother who was happily chatting away with her son. What else could she have done to get Ursa’s attention? Take into consideration that Azula genuinely didn’t know why it was bad to burn those flowers, and Ursa didn’t help her understand this. Children don’t naturally just appreciate beauty. They learn to appreciate beauty. Ursa didn’t even try to get her daughter to understand that.

4. Azula’s abuse of her brother and friends

Let’s first discuss what abuse is. It’s when a person does something SEVERE to intentionally harm someone repeatedly, especially even though they’ve already been told not to.

I did some research and asked people I know who have siblings about their relationship with their older siblings. All of them said that they had made fun of each other, said hurtful things to one another when they were younger, ages typically from 2-10 and it would always lead to petty arguments and fights that would eventually needed to be settled by their parents.

What Azula and Zuko had was like every other ordinary petty sibling squabble. Azula would play pranks on her brother, Zuko would refuse to play with his sister of his own accord and apparently they’d even get into physical fights where Zuko would usually be the physical aggressor (as apparently he would even try to kick her). You could say lighting his bum on fire for ratting her out to their mom was severe, but you can also argue that they were both firebenders, which would mean that it wouldn’t have actually harmed Zuko that much. That move was like a shove for ordinary kids.

Her treatment of Ty Lee

Even as a child, Azula was competitive. This could be seen when she and Ty Lee were practicing some stunts and she failed to be better than Ty Lee at something. All children are petty, and so Azula’s response to this was to shove her and laugh. Children have this mentality of ‘You made me feel bad so I’m going to make you feel bad too!’ -which is what Azula did. It’s completely normal for children to respond like that whenever they’re upset. It’s either they say something hurtful, or they push that child, and then the other child would start to cry. That’s usually when an adult steps in to reprimand the child and explain to them why they shouldn’t do that. In this case, Ty Lee didn’t seem to mind it. After all, it was just fun and games for them.

Her treatment of Mai

So in Smoke and Shadow it was revealed that they used to have sleepovers together. There was particularly this one time when they had a sleepover at Mai’s and apparently Azula had made her steal her grandmother’s mochi and then ate it while the other two looked uncomfortable (probably because they knew they were going to get in trouble). Child Azula was like that one friend who was a bad influence, but we’d still be friends with them because they were fun to be with. In their case they were friends with Azula because she was the princess. Being associated with the royal family would’ve definitely had some benefits for their families.

Azula was the princess. She literally could’ve asked for anything and she would’ve been presented with it. We don’t know if this was before or after Ursa’s banishment but if it was after, then no one would’ve corrected Azula’s thinking of ‘I want this so I’ll take it’ as a child.

Mai had said that Azula made her steal that mochi as a child, but how? How exactly did Azula make her steal something that her own mother told them not to touch? Mai could’ve said, no, yet she did it anyway. By blackmail? That’s a possibility, but we’d never even seen her blackmailing even in the present timeline. Azula said that she had merely suggested stealing it, but Mai was the one who insisted on following through so this is what I think actually happened.

Azula suggested stealing the mochi. Mai said no in fear of getting in trouble, so Azula just said that she’ll take the blame if they get in trouble (she was the princess after all, what could’ve Mai’s mother and Mai herself done if the Princess wanted it?) Mai followed along until she chickened out at the last minute. Azula called her out for it so Mai insisted on following through to prove her wrong. But then Mai felt guilty after that and Ty Lee was nervous about getting in trouble so Azula was the only one eating it at the end.

Is it fair to call her a monster or abusive for that? No.

Was it bad and wrong? Yes.

Her treatment of Zuko

This is the part where I truly believe Zuko extremists take things way out of proportion (this and in the present when she usually makes fun of him). What was her intention behind telling him about this? To warn him. Azula herself had told him that it was for his own good. If Azula did want her brother to be out of the way, then she wouldn’t have come all the way to his room just to mock him about it. She wouldn’t have told Ursa this either. She would’ve just kept it to herself. If Azula was cruel, she wouldn’t have told anyone.

The only reason why she was behaving that way was because she didn’t know how to feel about it. Would her father really kill his own son? Was he actually really going to do it? She was a 9 yr old kid who loved her father. She wouldn’t have wanted to believe that he was capable of such murder, but she didn’t want to risk it either- and so she tried to play if off as joke, while still making sure that Zuko would be aware of what she’d heard.

Also I’ve seen people call her a monster or crazy just from Zuko’s mantra ‘Azula always lies’.

Do I really have to explain why it’s illogical to call a 9 yr old a monster for lying...? Studies have shown that children usually lie between the ages of 2-10. Lying typically peaks between the ages of 6-10. So Azula lying at that age? Perfectly normal.

Azula was mean as a child, but she was never a monster, or even abusive. Future Azula though, that’s a different discussion for another day.

All I can say is this. It’s fine to call Azula an abuser in the present timeline. That’s your opinion and it actually makes sense too since she showed some of the signs. (Although it’s still questionable since we didn’t actually see it as a repetitive occurrence and how severe it was to be called abuse and the fact that Azula didn’t actually show the other signs of an abuser... if anything, Ozai is the literal prime example of an abuser, and the only thing Azula and Ozai actually shared was their manipulation and use of fear against people except Ozai wasn’t remorseful about that at all. Also I realized after reading up articles about abuse that Zuko in early Book 3 hit most of the signs when it comes to abusive partners which is why I find Azula being considered abusive, questionable because in this fandom, the term abusive doesn’t apply to Zuko but mostly on Mai instead...?)

However, it is NOT fine to call a child a monster or to call them abusive.

[denbroughbill]

chapter 1 of “sky so blue”

word count 2.3k

author’s note based on the hc i wrote that recieved positive feedback! the medieval times written are not completely accurate just to be a little humorous and have fun with this story :) the lowercase letters are intended. also please let me know if the paragraph spacing is awkward! i’m working from tumblr mobile

there was a crooked, tiny, wooden cottage on the outskirts of the town of derry. the ivies outside had overgrown, wrapped around themselves and found comfort in the cracks of the house’s walls, making it an unruly sight to by-passers, but the owners enjoyed it that way. inside, there were shelves upon shelves lining the walls. they had books that were not in order and glass bottles of different shapes and sizes, filled with adder’s tongue, baby’s breath, and dragon’s blood.

this is where beverly lived.

beverly was a young woman, fair skin and face splattered with freckles, who was shunned when she cut her own hair with the blade of a sharp sword, offering her auburn locks wrapped in a tight braid to the norse goddess, frigg, ruler of marriage and love.

and it worked.

beverly’s partner ben was a blacksmith, who worked closely with the kingdom — their go-to man when armor and weapons required repair, which spared beverly from being burned at the stake for her witchcraft. he worked outside in their shed behind the cottage which held his swage block and hammers and bellows and drifts.

in the afternoons, there was a man in a hooded cloak. he would bring gifts of fresh bread and candles for ben and beverly, and ben would allow him inside.

his name was prince edward.

prince edward walked from his castle to visit beverly and ben, walked for hours starting at night until he could begin to see the sun rise on the horizon. at one point before, his feet would ache with every step he took, but he was used to this now. he had no fear in his mind or heart when he would look towards the village and see the dim lights from the houses, and he would set off on his trek to the village.

sometimes he would look back, though. he would look back at this fantastic castle, towering over the meek rest of the village. his grey eyes narrowed in anger, he looked back in disgust.

he did not have to duck under the ivy leaves that reached out to touch him or the herb plants in hanging pots. he was a smaller man, and looking up at the dangling plants was similar to looking at the chandeliers that adorned the castle.

candles were lit for edward’s arrival, and beverly smiled her all-knowing smile, beckoning him closer.

“so we meet again, edward.”

edward rolled his eyes in good humor, sitting on the wooden stool across from beverly, her work space separating the two.

“bev, please, i told you to call me eddie.”

eddie liked beverly because they shared the same belief system that the natural riches of the earth and their loved ones were worth more than anything. prince eddie was never one to decorate himself in silver or jewels; to him, every rock was precious, every ray of light golden.

she removed the clear crystal from the top of her deck of cards and began to shuffle. she had eddie shuffle the cards, too, filling them with his energy, thinking about the longing question he wanted beverly to reveal the answer to.

being a prince kept him hopelessly cut off from the rest of the beautiful world, and romance was something he constantly found himself craving. he never let those thoughts disturb him, for he knew that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. sometimes eddie wished that his prince charming would come rescue him from his dismal world of passivity. he would take him traveling all around the world, and he would assist him as he made his kingdom a better place. after one month, he would take his hand in his, kneel on one leg, pull out a wonderful diamond ring, and ask for his hand in marriage.

“this is the queen of swords — reversed,” beverly laid down a card on the table in front of eddie. pictured was the queen of swords, sitting on a stone throne, holding a sword in her right hand. this card was upside down.

“there is a treacherous enemy. a resentful, cold-hearted person blocking your relationships and clouding your vision.”

eddie shook his head, laughing, “that’s just my mom, bev.” she has also been shown as the queen of pentacles and the devil.

beverly pulled other cards. the queen of swords ruled over eddie’s chance of ever reaching the sun, the seven of swords, and the lovers.

he sighed.

“maybe you could try a different question? want a hex spell?” beverly asked with a friendly smile.

eddie thought to himself. there could be glass shards, dead scorpions, vinegar, or garlic in the jar. if he said yes, beverly would probably instruct him to cook his mom’s hair while she slept. or worse, an eyeball.

he politely declined. “hm, maybe some other time, beverly.”

“hey, stick around for a while,” ben placed his heavy hand on eddie’s shoulder. his warm smile brightened his coal-blackened face.

eddie thanked them both but decided it was time to leave.

treading through the grass once more, eddie thought the fortress of kaspbrak itself was a fine castle, built with a panorama of the surrounding land. from the towers once stood medieval watchers, quiver and arrow ready to fly, and moss clung to the ancient walls in the shade, which reminded him of beverly’s cottage.

he made it back before suppertime. the halls were bustling with activity, but the click of the heels of his leather boots on the tile floor stopped them in their tracks. there was complete silence except for the sound of eddie walking through the halls and his personal butler walking towards him.

“good evening, william.”

“you muh-must change for supper.”

the suits of armor and framed oil portraits of elders towered over the both of them.

he liked william a lot. his mother had lined the potential workers in front of him one day and allowed him to chose his person butler himself. the rest were picked off to work the courtyard grounds and cook meals.

eddie picked william because he was close to his age. he liked his red hair and blue eyes, and sometimes william visited eddie in his daydreams of marriage. eddie also thought he would look better in the gold lacework and rich embroidery clothes eddie had to wear. william liked how eddie allowed him to spend time in the courtyard when he was not tending to the prince; he thought he was kinder than the queen, and they became good friends.

but neither would allow eddie’s mother to hear the boys call each other out of their formal names or whisper and laugh together, nor would they let her majesty see william pick loose leaves and twigs out of eddie’s blonde hair.

there was no need to question the prince; he was obviously visiting beverly again. there was a long, painstakingly unnecessary spiral staircase that led to where eddie slept.

william ushered him ahead, opening the heavy wooden door to his chambers. he would be back to fetch eddie when he was dressed properly.

prince eddie stood in front of the open window, head perched in his hands as he watched the bright, clear lake shimmer in what was left of the sun. he wondered frequently why he had to dress for the occasion of sitting across the incredibly long table, where food was in such abundance that it looked more like decoration, for just him and his mother to eat. it made him angry, the thought of food going to waste as the queen at the opposite head of the table rubbed her full, plump stomach.

a voice called out from below him and pulled eddie out of his thoughts. “could you help me out?”

“oh, yes. my apologies,” eddie said. reaching outside the window, he grasped the clothed covered hand of a man.

he screamed and jumped backwards, reality setting in now. there was a stranger climbing the cobblestone walls of the castles, how had he not noticed? was this thief foolish enough to climb through the prince’s chambers to steal from the bottlery? was this planned — had he chosen this window, knowing it was the prince’s, to hold him hostage? he hoped william had heard him.

eddie stood with his back against his wardrobe, fist tightening around the door knob. he fought between the thoughts of fighting to the death or flinging the door open and hunkering down small, hiding himself between long silk robes and hidden jewels. he understood now why the thief had chose his chambers.

the man acted quickly. with the boost eddie had given him, he was able to grab hold of the edge of the windowsill and climb through the window.

and before prince eddie could grab the glass candelabra from his bedside table and wield it as a defense weapon, there was a man standing in his room.

eddie did not care how well-dressed this man was — there was an intruder in the castle. and he didn’t care how tall, dark, or handsome he was, either.

he could not cut, thrust, or slash with the candelabra, but he was willing to try. his knuckles were turning white from his tight grip. eddie didn’t have to pretend to be brave; he could call for a servant or guard immediately, but then the mysterious man could attack. he noticed the actual sword in the man’s bronze scabbard, and his eyes widened.

the man firmly placed his hand on eddie’s mouth before he could call out and wrapped an arm around his waist. eddie clawed at the gloved hand for his life as fear and dread swirled in his stomach. he’s watched his mother force two townsfolk to fight to the death for entertainment rather than call for the jester. the sight was evil, twisted, and bloody, and eddie did not want stains like those on the finest silk of the land. he tried his best to fight back and squirm, but his grasp was too tight.

“i don’t want to hurt you.” eddie stopped struggling when he loosened his grasp, but still trembled in fear. the man let out a soft laugh, and his voice was smooth and soft spoken, but strong somehow, like he wanted eddie to believe him. he removed the hand from eddie’s mouth, and placed it on firmly on his shoulder, other hand on his waist now.

he was taller than eddie, with dark skin, strong shoulders, and brown cassiterite eyes – heart-stopping eyes that flickered when he said, “i want to marry you.”

“oh,” eddie laughed, slapping the man’s chest in a manner that said, ‘how foolish of me.’ “why didn’t you just say so?”

they leaned closer, a faint smile on the man’s lips and eddie giggled under his breath. when he thought of his moment before, he thought he would be in a horse drawn carriage, or whisked away on the back of a white, noble steed. he didn’t even know this man’s name, but butterflies in his stomach told him there was no time for introductions now.

as their lips drew closer, there was a knock on the door.

“the queen is wuh-waiting for you to accompany her.”

“okay, you hide in here,” eddie whispered, grabbing the man by his lapel. he forced him inside his wardrobe. “what’s your name?”

“michael, prince edward.” michael responded, silk hanging over his face now.

“okay, mike, i’ll be right back.”

eddie plastered his most charming smile onto his face, forcing himself to enjoy eating in the grand dining hall with his mother. at least stanley’s performance was enjoyable.

eddie called him stan for short, and he had sunken eyes and curly hair and what eddie thought to be a rather lovely nose. the entertainment consisted of satire and self-deprecating humor, but he was nice. eddie also thought it was silly when he danced with his scepter and the bells from his hat jingled. stan was loyal and friendly, and even the queen enjoyed his company. she even consulted with him once to make strategies for battle— stan had agreed with everything she said because he believed she just wanted to hear herself talk.

supper ended, and eddie did not protest about all the food that had gone to waste, partly because mike was waiting in his wardrobe, and partly because he knew what his mother would say; “that's how hierarchy works.”

the halls were nearly deserted, and only their shadows followed as eddie strolled with mike, hand-in-hand, showing him every inch of the castle. he learned that michael hanlon was a farmer who worked in the fields under the blistering sun from dawn until dusk. he assured him he wouldn’t have to do that anymore, his smile as warm as the candles and lanterns illuminated around them.

“and this is our oubliette. this is where my mother leaves prisoners to die.”

mike gasped. “that’s kind of cool.”

“what does that mean?”

“i don’t know.” they both laugh.

eddie sighed, heartfelt and knees weak. “oh, mike, i’ve had so much fun getting to know you. i can’t wait until we marry,” he said, bringing mike’s hands to his chest. then he exclaimed with a brilliant idea, like if the light bulb had been invented then and it was dangling over his head.

“let’s marry tomorrow! at sunset!”

the excited gasp brought attention to the pair, alerting the guards that there a intruders afoot. eddie thought fast, and pulled the two into a small, dark corridor. he wasn’t afraid of his guards by any means, it was his mother he feared. and he did not particularly need to sneak mike around, but it was kind of fun.

they were pressed together, breathing heavily from the anticipation of being caught. their faces drew closer, laughing softly, and the image of doves flying crossed eddie’s mind as they kissed.

prince edward had always seen beverly and ben kiss, but he never knew what it felt like. a surge of energy and passion from being engulfed in this kiss made him think he should’ve asked beverly for a love potion years ago. he never wanted this moment to end.

and it wouldn’t, as they would be married at sunset tomorrow. eddie could not think of a single thing that would ruin their nuptials. taglist: @reddiesetrichie, @veganmikehanlon, @bumblerea, @eddiessecondfannypack, @tinyarmedtrex, @jwilliambyers, @edstozler, @eddiecare, @stephenskings, @constantreaderfool, @imeddie, @kaymcgivemeacall, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

[luki-fanfic]

OOTW: The Explanation Snippet

This will one day be a chapter.  When I have a better handle on Eri and the majority of the plot knocking on my head has been resolved.  For now it’s kind of like the other snippet that’s Tumblr-only.  I’m offering it up to the readers as a vague explanation for how KHR met BNHA.

It’s not often Aizawa takes Eri out of the UA grounds, and she’s not sure if she should be excited or terrified.  So she has Aizawa’s hand in a vice grip and a chunk of his scarf wedged in the other, while her eyes dart around, trying to soak in every new thing she sees.

“It’s not far now” the man promises, and Eri nods, even though she doesn’t know exactly where it is they’re going.  It’s clearly not where she’d lived before she’d been with Aizawa though, so it’s probably a nice place.

A few minutes later, Aizawa stops outside a small building with bright windows and knocks on the door.  The man who unlocks the door is the same height as Aizawa and dressed all in white.

“Aizawa” he greets.  “Yamada sent me your message, but it wasn’t very specific.  How can I help?”

“Something Hizashi once said has come back to haunt me” Aizawa admits, as Yamamoto opens the door and allows the two entry.  “I was looking for some advice.”

Yamamoto glances down at Eri, who have shuffles behind Aizawa’s leg.

“Ah, you must be Eri” he says.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Eri braves stepping out just a smidgen.

“Really?”

“This is Yamamoto” Aizawa tells her, and Eri, gives a small ‘oh’ in understand.

She knows Yamamoto.  Yamada talks about him, and Aizawa once brought sushi he made home.

“Hi Mr. Yamamoto” she offers, and the chef smiles at Eri.  

“Hello Eri” He replies.  “You know, my youngest, Fuuta, is probably only a few years older than you.  He’s upstairs if you want to say hello?”

Eri glances up at Aizawa, who smiles and nods in permission, and the girl cautiously steps past the kitchen and heads for the stairs.  She vaguely hears Yamamoto asking Aizawa something about how something called ‘fostering’ and how it’s treating him, before it tapers off from distance.

The upper part of the building looks deceptively large, with 2 doors on each side and another small staircase at the end.  It’s easy to tell where Eri is supposed to go, because only one door is open, and she can hear someone talking.

Still, she inches the door open in caution.  She doesn’t want to upset whoever is inside.

“Um, hello?”

The room is really small, barely wide enough to shove the bed in to one end while a desk and chest of drawers line the sides.  At the desk, there’s a young boy, engrossed in a giant book, who jerks up at her voice.  

“Oh, hello?” he says.  “Who are you?”

Eri bites her lip.

“E-Eri” she stutters out.  “Yamamoto said I could come up?”

The boy grins, and her shoulders drop in relief.

“Oh, you stay with Aizawa right?  He mentioned he had a little girl staying with him.”

He slips off the chair and sits on the floor, patting the ground next to him, and Eri happily sits down.

“Do you like staying with him?” he asks, and Eri nods.

“Oh yes.  Aizawa is very nice” she insists.  He brushes my hair and he buys me nice clothes and he really likes cats.”

It’s true.  She has five stuffed cat toys on her bed right now. The secret that she actually prefers dogs is one she’ll never, ever tell, because it might make Aizawa sad and make him give her away and-

“Tsuna likes cats too” Fuuta tells her.  “He and Gokudera used to have some.  Yamamoto prefers dogs though.”

“What about you?” Eri asks, and Fuuta shrugs.

“Well, dogs are rated number 1 on most popular animals for pets” he says.  “But honestly?”

His eyes dart around the room in mock suspicion, and leans in.

“I like fish” he admits.  “When I’m older, I’ll have a great big aquarium and have dozens of tropical fish.  It’ll be it’s own little universe.”

“That sounds amazing” Eri gasps.  She’s never seen an aquarium, but it sounds amazing.

“Really?” Fuuta asks.  “Most people think fish are boring.”

Eri immediately shakes her head.  “No, no, no.”

“So...what do you like to do?” Fuuta asks, and Eri frowns.

“Um...I like being with Aizawa, and Mirio, and Izuku” she starts. “I like...”

Not being hurt any more.  That was her favourite thing.  But that’s probably not the right answer.

“I like stories” she decides upon.  “Aizawa reads me stories at bedtime, and they’re really fun.”

They really were.  Aizawa tells her all about new worlds, and princesses trapped in towers or by curses until their heroes come to save them.  About magical schools and talking animals and all the different endings where the villains don’t ever win.  It’s possibly her favourite part of the day.

Fuuta’s eyes immediately light up.

“I could tell you one” he says.  “There’s a story I’ve been really wanting to tell people, and you can tell me if it’s any good?”

Eri matches his grin as Fuuta stands to grab one of the books on the desk.

“I started writing it down.  Tsuna says I can tell people so long as I’m careful.  It’s a little rough, but-”

“I don’t mind” Eri promises.  “How does it start?”

Fuuta smiles.

“So, once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a boy who lived in a village with his mother.  The boy was no good at anything, but he didn’t mind, even when people called him dame.”

“What was his quirk?” Eri asks, and Fuuta blinks in surprise before laughing.

“Oh, um.  He didn’t have one.  But one day, a strange man came to his door, and told his mother he was a tutor sent by his father to help the boy become a successful leader.  However, in secret, he told the boy he was actually a legendary warrior sent from a faraway kingdom, to groom the boy as the next king.”

“Wow!” Eri gasps.

“He told the boy that his ancestor had once been king, but had left the kingdom to his cousin when he fled.  But now, all the other princes were dead, and the boy was the next rightful heir.  The boy refused.”

Eri’s face fell.

“What?  But why?”

Fuuta smiled.

“Because it wasn’t just any old kingdom he was to rule, but a very powerful one.  The villain kingdom.”

“There’s a kingdom of villains?” Eri asks, face pale, and Fuuta laughs.

“Don’t worry.  Only in the story” he insisted.  “The warrior told him he had no choice, and then unsealed the boy’s quirk.”

“Unsealed?” Eri repeats.

“It turns out that the villain kings all had this very powerful quirk, and since the boy was supposed to stay away from the kingdom, it was locked away when he was very young.  But now they needed to train him in it very quickly.

And so the legendary warrior started to train him, sometimes with threats or blackmail, or even trickery.  Along the way, the boy started to gather knights of his own.  Friends with powerful, uh, quirks, that could help him rule.

They fought many battles, and fought many enemies.  One in particular was a lord from a neighbouring kingdom, who had a quirk that let him talk and interact with every version of himself in every dimension. Using this ability, he was able to take over the entire world ten years into the future.”

Eri gasps.

“The boy and his friends were transported to this time in order to beat him, and in doing so, saved the timeline and helped the lord abandon his quest, becoming a friend to the boy himself.”

“Oh yay!” Eri says.  “So the bad lord became a good lord.”

“Well, as good as a villain lord could be” Fuuta admits.  

“Then the legendary warrior needed help.  You see, he and seven other legendary warriors were all under a curse, and were going to die unless it was broken.  The boy had grown fond of the warrior, even though he was a villain, he had always helped the boy, and given him strength and friends.  So he fought the curse, and found a way to break it.”

“And then the warrior became a good guy?” Eri asks, and frowns when Fuuta shakes his head.

“Everyone was happy, but the boy still had to inherit the villain kingdom.  In desperation, he turned to the warrior, asking him to stand with the boy in rejecting the role.  But the warrior refused. To him, the kingdom of villains was too important to leave without a king, and he believed the boy would be the best person for the job.”

“But the boy didn’t want to be a villain” Eri summarised “Especially the king of them.”

“Right” Fuuta agrees.  “He was very sad, and didn’t know what to do.  The Villain Kingdom was so powerful, there was nowhere in the world he would be able to run.  He could never escape.”

“Couldn’t he ask heroes for help?” Eri asks, and Fuuta shook his head.

“There were no heroes in his kingdom.  The Villain Kingdom was so powerful, anyone with powerful quirks was abducted into their kingdom.  It was so powerful, that most people didn’t even realise just how powerful they were.  The boy was on his own.”

Eri’s face fell, and Fuuta quickly pushed on.

“But-But then!” he continues.  “The lord that could speak with his other versions came to the boy, and told him of a way to escape. In the future, he had tried to bring another version of himself into his world, but the other lord didn’t survive properly, but then he realised the problem was you couldn’t have two versions of a person in the same world.  If the boy used the method the lord used – to go to a world where the Villain Kingdom never existed, and he had never existed, he would be just fine, and the Villain Kingdom would never find him.”

“So he could live a happy life!” Eri squeals.

“The boy agrees, and many of his friends agree to join him.  And so, they jumped into another world.”

“And lived happily ever after?” Eri asked.

Fuuta smiles.  “Hopefully.  That part hasn’t been finished yet.”

Eri nods.  “It’s a sad story” she says.  “Nobody came to help the boy, not even the people he thought he could trust.  But I like the ending.  It’s a happy one.  I like sad stories with happy endings.”

Fuuta grins back.  “So do I.”

“Do you think the boy and his friends will get to be happy in the new world?” Eri asks.

At the question, Fuuta looks away, glancing back at his desk and at the heavy book he’d been reading before she came in.

“I don’t know” he admits.  “It’s hard to rank happiness. But I want to believe so.”

“Eri!” Aizawa’s voice calls up from the lower floor.  “Are you ready to head back?”

The girl’s head jerks in the direction of the door, before looking over at Fuuta apologetically.

“Thank you for the story” she says.  “Maybe I can come back and hear it again?”

“Sure” Fuuta promises.  “And you can tell me your story too.”

“My story’s not that interesting” Eri mumbles, and Fuuta shakes his head.

“Everyone’s story is interesting” he insists.  “And yours is ranked pretty high.”

“Ranked?” Eri repeats, and Fuuta grins.

“I’ll tell you next time.”

[quicksilversquared]

Lost Heart Ch. 5

Gabriel Part 3

Magic can be a dangerous thing to play around with, particularly when that magic is tangled up in a curse. When Nathalie Sancoeur experiments with magic that she doesn’t fully understand, it sends her on a path to become Paris’ most dangerous supervillain and tips the balance between superheroes and supervillain.

But which way will the balance fall?

links in the reblog

(Tumblr give me my page breaks back already wtf)

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

Having Nathalie supervising and directing his every action once Nooroo had recovered enough to transform again was not fun. She moved a series of monitors up to the lair, so that they could get as much information as possible while shut up in the space. A whiteboard had a series of potential powers, arranged in a flowchart for maximum speed. She stood behind him, giving him instructions to pass on to his akumas, and she gave a lot more direction than he did. His previously light direction turned heavy-handed, micromanaging akumas and using remote pain to keep them from wandering off to do their own thing.

Those were the good changes.

Not all of Nathalie's ideas were ones that Gabriel was comfortable with, because even if he wasn't the most cuddly person in the world at the best of times (and even he knew that that was a big understatement), he still had a semblance of a heart. He still had lines that he didn't want to cross, even if they perhaps didn't make sense to an outside perspective. He had managed to hold out, more or less, but with every no that he gave Nathalie, the colder she got.

And there was no real way to say no to her most recent idea, one that was a serious break from his normal operating pattern. One that would land them in some serious trouble if it went sideways.

Nathalie wanted him to attack Chloe Bourgeois in an attempt to steal the Bee Miraculous. She was the only superhero whose superhero identity was publically known, and thus far, they hadn't taken full advantage of that. It had been a way to target her for akumatization during both of their Scarlet Moth attempts, but nothing more than that.

Originally, he could justify not going after Chloe because there was no way that she was keeping her Miraculous between battles. But the last few times that Queen Bee had joined the fight, she had appeared fast, as though she kept her Miraculous on her now so she could help right away when she was called.

(It was, admittedly, a little strange that Queen Bee didn't show up at every attack if Nathalie was right and she did keep the Miraculous, but Ladybug was crafty. Once again, she was no doubt trying to mislead him.)

Hawkmoth had to admit that Nathalie's plan made sense, even if he was a bit uncomfortable with it. The plan would require him to venture out as Hawkmoth, after all, and that was dangerous enough. Mayura would be active and ready in case something went wrong, but Nathalie was confident that nothing would go wrong, not unless Gabriel seriously bungled the attack and Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up.

And if he seriously bungled the attack... well, everything could be lost.

That was how Hawkmoth found himself crouched on the Bourgeois brat's balcony one cloudy evening, having used the cover of another akuma attack to get from the mansion to the Grand Paris unnoticed. He shifted from foot to foot, watching as she waved off her butler after accepting a red folder from him. He nodded and left, and Chloe leafed through the folder as though checking to make sure that everything was there before tucking it into her backpack with a satisfied smile. Hawkmoth waited for a few minutes more- he didn't need Chloe's butler bursting back in at her first scream- before straightening up and striding straight up to the balcony door, yanking it open with a squeal and a clatter.

Ugh. Clearly the mayor needed to get some better-quality doors on his hotel. This was trash.

Chloe jumped in the air as she turned, phone in hand, and then she staggered backwards, her face draining of blood almost immediately. "Ha- Hawkmoth? Go away! Go away!"

The spike of fear was lovely. Never mind his other akuma, he should have brought a butterfly to corrupt her. But Hawkmoth didn't let that distract him. What-ifs never helped. "Chloe Bourgeois. Queen Bee. Give me your Miraculous."

"The- give you my-"

"The Miraculous," Hawkmoth pressed, his hand out as he took one large step closer. "We can do this the easy way, no need for any trouble needed. Or we could do this the hard way."

Chloe burst into tears. "I don't have it! I never get to keep it after a fight is over, and you know that! Leave me alone!"

Hawkmoth took a moment to assess her feelings. Chloe was scared, and that was the overwhelming mood. But she was angry, too, and there was no trace of deceit there.

Well. That made things harder. Apparently Nathalie's theory about Chloe keeping her Miraculous was incorrect.

"Where do you get it, then?" Hawkmoth demanded, determined to keep it from being a wasted trip. Maybe Chloe knew who the Guardian was. "Who gives your Miraculous to you?"

"Ladybug or Chat Noir, obviously." Chloe sniffed, trying her best to put on a brave face. It was pointless, of course, since he could feel her terror, but admirable all the same. "Duh."

"And where do they get it?"

Chloe's snort wasn't fake this time. "Why would they tell me that? That would be dumb."

Hawkmoth struggled for a second, trying to find a new line of questioning that wouldn't make him look like an incompetent idiot in front of a fourteen-year-old. "And you summon them how?"

"With my Bee-light, but they only come when they want to come. Or else you would see me at every single fight that's not during the school day, duh." Chloe scowled at Hawkmoth. Then her eyes flicked to the side and she smirked, smugness suddenly taking over from the fear. "You can always ask them yourself, if you don't believe me."

Hawkmoth only had a second's warning to duck out of the way before a yo-yo sliced through the air where his head had been. Swearing, Hawkmoth fled, smashing his way through a window instead of trying to go out the balcony.

He wasn't going to fight, not now. He was going to be overwhelmed, and quickly.

Unsurprisingly, the superheroes followed him. Hawkmoth ran faster, wishing that he had a weapon that let him move faster. He was getting run down, and unless Mayura appeared, he was going to get caught.

The purple feather floating towards him was, for once, welcome. He accepted it and welcomed the giant purple moth that appeared above his head. It pushed the superheroes back, giving him an opening to escape down to the Seine, where it was easy enough to find a sewer opening and work his ways into the catacombs under the city and back home.

It wasn't pleasant, but at least he still had his Miraculous.

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

 Nathalie wasn't willing to give up on her idea so easily. Clearly she didn't believe his assessment of Chloe's feelings.

Which was annoying.

"Send out another akuma, then stake her out," Nathalie directed. "The superheroes took you by surprise last time. Take them by surprise this time. And if they're dropping off a Miraculous, they're probably only doing it one at a time. Ambush, take the Bee, and take their Miraculous. Once the city is down to one experienced superhero, it'll be child's play to take them down."

Gabriel tried not to look too doubtful. After all, Ladybug had fought akumas by herself before, and, well…

Chat Noir might have the claws, but when push came to shove, Ladybug's fighting was terrifying. She could and would use anything to tangle up his akumas and defeat them. Where everyone else saw a desk chair or a garbage can, Ladybug saw a potential trap.

"Or we could kidnap her," Nathalie mused. "Demand a Miraculous to guarantee her safe return. Drop off a lock of her hair at City Hall every day that they wait. Our buffoon of a mayor would demand that they comply then."

Gabriel couldn't deny the shiver of terror that ran down his spine at the suggestion. Kidnapping? That was going too far. Way too far. Nathalie was right, it would probably be effective, but it was too much.

And it was dangerous. The mayor would put pressure on the superheroes to do something and fast, but he would also call on the entire police force to search for Chloe. And once she got returned, they would use anything and everything that she said to try to track him down.

Considering that Chloe was actually close to the family- well, really familiar with them, at least- it was too much of a risk to take.

Nathalie didn't look impressed when he brought all that up- well, everything except for his personal feelings about kidnapping, at least. "With great risk comes great reward."

"Or great failure," Gabriel reminded her. "I'd prefer to keep exploring our current improvements-" well, at least to a point- "and see where they lead."

Nathalie scowled. "Emilie is declining by the day. You need to act quickly, and this would be quick."

"Yes, but-"

"You hesitate, and you lose," Nathalie snapped, her voice dripping with ice. "I have weighed the risk, and it is in our favor to kidnap her. We have access to the catacombs. We can store her there, not even in the house."

"I would prefer to try staking out her balcony and trying to steal her Miraculous at the point of delivery," Hawkmoth said quickly. "If we could work in tandem, perhaps, and have one of the Peacock's creatures to distract the superhero while I overwhelm Chloe, that would work well. Then it would be two against one for me taking either Ladybug or Chat Noir's Miraculous, while the akuma keeps the other one distracted."

Nathalie's lips curved up in the first smile that he had seen on her in a while. Still, it made him uneasy. It wasn't a warm smile, not in the slightest. "That is the first decent suggestion that I've heard from you in a while. It will no doubt take some time, since Ladybug goes to the other temps first, but- hmm." She frowned in thought. "If you try to re-akumatize some of the akumas that Queen Bee was called out for before, or try to mimic some of the powers that made Ladybug and Chat Noir go for the Bee, then our chances of success are higher."

"I can do that."

Nathalie's nod was sharp. "See that you do. We don't need more of your ineptitude screwing up a perfectly good opportunity."

Gabriel winced at her razor-sharp tone. It held promises of punishment if he failed again. He suspected that the only reason that she hadn't already taken him out of the fight herself was that he had more seniority with his Miraculous and had figured out how to increase its power (and how to not be forced to detransform after five minutes) but hadn't told her yet. What little patience she had left was wearing thin, though, and it wasn't hard to imagine that she might snap if he made another mistake or kept turning down her ideas. The ideas that, well...

The worst part of all of this (well, besides having to navigate the minefield that Nathalie had become) was that-well, finding out that he wouldn't do anything for his wife. Some of the ideas that Nathalie was pushing were logical in that they would almost certainly produce positive results for him-

-but Gabriel just couldn't.

Never mind that all of this would get erased when he got his hands on the Miraculous and made his wish, he just couldn't. Maybe he could have when he was fresh off an experimental Peacock transformation- maybe he wouldn't have seen anything wrong then- but not now. Not when he still had most of his humanity intact.

"We'll start in two days, barring the appearance of any fantastic opportunities," Nathalie decided. "After yesterday's events, they'll likely be nervous about what else we have planned, if they're at all intelligent." She shot him a sharp look. "If they're more intelligent than you are, at least, and that's hardly a high bar to meet."

Gabriel did his best not to sigh. "That's a plan, then."

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

 Despite their best efforts and the toughest akumas they could think of, Ladybug and Chat Noir had yet to tap Chloe again to join them. Carapace had come out once, and Rena Rouge twice, and the original duo had handled all of the other akumas by themselves.

They were getting better. They were getting better, and Hawkmoth's legs were starting to feel cramped from spending so much time crouching on the top of the Grand Paris, waiting for any sign that Ladybug and Chat Noir might be coming over.

Thankfully he could generally figure out when they weren't, and he could sneak back to the house before the battle ended. There were a few close calls- either guests noticing someone in the bushes or a civilian glancing upwards as though they had noticed him leaping from hotel to the mansion- but nothing ever came of it.

Unfortunately, Nathalie's patience with making no progress was wearing out only a week and a half in. She wanted Gabriel to try something else on top of the staking out the Grand Paris. Her first suggestion (if it could be called a suggestion and not a command) was that he make his akuma more dangerous, going back to her suggestion about catching civilians on the Eiffel Tower where they couldn't escape but this time not bothering with akumas that would simply freeze or trap them.

Gabriel frowned. "There could be deaths- scratch that, there will be deaths if we do that. They'll vanish, of course, with either the Cure or changing the timeline, but-"

"It doesn't matter then, does it?" Nathalie demanded, her expression turning dark. "I thought you said that you would do anything for Emilie. Once you succeed, it'll all be erased."

"It's something that's important for me. A few accidental temporary deaths is… fine. Deliberately causing them…." Gabriel struggled to find the words to express what he wanted to say. Nothing came. Sure, he had long since accepted that there would sometimes be a few accidental, temporary deaths from the fights when people got too close, but deliberately causing deaths? He couldn't do that, but he couldn't put the why fully into words. "It's different. It makes me feel like I'm actually a supervillain instead of someone trying to save my wife. It- it just crosses that line. It makes me an actual bad guy."

"As though all of Paris doesn't already consider you a bad guy."

"It makes a difference to me." Gabriel persisted, knowing that Nathalie wouldn't like that. Sure enough, there was a deep frown on her face.

"That's not logical."

Gabriel considered her for a moment before pulling out his best argument, one that had been floating in the back of his mind since Nathalie's descent into true heartlessness. "It's very likely that the more damage we do now- the more that has to be changed in the timeline- that the larger the cost of using the Ultimate Power will be."

Nathalie had no argument there. She turned away with a scoff, but Gabriel knew that she wasn't likely to just leave things be. No doubt she would brainstorm more plots and come back to him soon enough.

He wasn't wrong. The very next day, Nathalie had a new idea that he had to carry out, or else.

"Go out and fight," Hawkmoth repeated blankly, staring at the plant in front of his face but not really seeing it. "What do you mean…?"

"I mean quit hiding, get out there, and fight," Mayura snapped through his earpiece. "This is a hard akuma. It's taking enough of Ladybug and Chat Noir's attention that they can't get away, at least not at the moment. If you go, they'll be overwhelmed."

Hawkmoth's mind flashed back to Heroes Day, the first time he had gone out to do a bit of fighting on his own. He had nearly been defeated then…. but only after the three extra superheroes joined Ladybug and Chat Noir. Before that, he had nearly defeated them. And he would have, if not for his need to be smug first.

But then there was the second time when he had used Scarlet Moth. He hadn't even managed to land a hit on the superheroes- he hadn't even gotten close to them- before they took him out and Stormy Weather had had to rescue him. But that had only happened because he hadn't been aware that there was another Miraculous out and he hadn't been watching his back. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

...he still couldn't shake the feeling of terror that everything was about to end for him.

"Go," Mayura insisted, enough ice in her voice that there was no denying that it was not a request. It was an order. "Go, fight them, come back with the Miraculous. Now."

Hawkmoth went.

By the time he got to the akuma, Ladybug and Chat Noir had vanished and the akuma was going after his original target, terrorizing some rude customer. Hawkmoth resisted the urge to swear and turn tail.

They were going to get backup, he just knew it.

"What part of do not let the superheroes out of your sight did you not understand?" he snapped at the akuma. "You should have kept them occupied."

"I spotted this asshatand decided to take my revenge before Ladybug and Chat Noir could defeat me," the akuma shot back. "Who cares where they went? You promised that I could teach him for once and for all what happens when he's rude to customer service!"

Hawkmoth was strongly considering cracking this akuma over the head. It had been doing so well, better than most of his other recent akumas, and now?

Now he was in danger.

"Problem, Mayura," Hawkmoth said, turning away from the akuma as he pressed the talk button on his earpiece. "The akuma let Ladybug and Chat Noir out of his sight and now they're gone to get another person, maybe I should come back-"

"Don't even think about it. Hide, wait for them to return, and launch a surprise attack. Get the newbie on their own and take them out so that we can have access to more powers and they don't have as many people to assist them. Ladybug and Chat Noir never get out more than one of the extras at a time for a single akuma attack, after all."

….well, the one upside of Nathalie being cold, calculating, and heartless was that she didn't let panic cloud her head. That was a very good suggestion, and it would mean that once again, the fight would be on his terms, not the superheroes'. He could pick them off one by one, until he was left with three more Miraculous in his hand.

Then everything would go back to normal. The old normal, the normal from over a year ago, not the more recent normal.

It wasn't a long wait before Hawkmoth spotted movement over the rooftops again. He hunkered down, making sure that no one on the street could see him and tip off the superheroes- not that there was anyone out anyway. There hadn't been anywhere near as many people hanging around near akuma fights lately, which could be a blessing or a pain depending an akuma's powers.

There were only two of them. Hawkmoth frowned, puzzled- and then his jaw dropped.

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked different, like they had two different costumes combined. It only took Hawkmoth a second to realize what was going on.

They were both wearing two Miraculous.

Four Miraculous, four sets of powers. Hawkmoth couldn't recognize the other Miraculous at this distance, not that it really mattered that much. He hadn't been able to translate the grimoire, so while he knew that other Miraculous existed, he had no clue what their powers might be.

...well. he knew what he would be asking Nooroo tonight. Hawkmoth needed to know every detail of every Miraculous, and how being combined would affect them.

Ladybug charged into the fight first, and Hawkmoth nearly choked when he noticed the sword in her hand. She wielded it with confidence, knocking away the akuma's blows. Chat Noir hung back, plucking away at something round and green that he held in his hands.

The buzzing of his cane in his hand snapped Hawkmoth out of his shocked state. He looked down and winced almost immediately when he noticed Mayura's symbol on his communicator screen. Apparently she was getting impatient- and apparently he had accidentally been ignoring her attempts to get a hold of him via the earpiece.

"Are you moving into position now?"

"There's no newbie," Hawkmoth told her. "It's just the two of them, but they have extra powers on hand now."

"And the holdup is what, exactly? New powers don't matter if you catch them by surprise."

Hawkmoth's stomach dropped. He had hoped that Nathalie would see the sense in waiting, but clearly not. "If they've practiced…"

"They're not that smart."

….Hawkmoth frankly begged to differ, but he wasn't going to say that.

"Can I get a Peacock backup first?" Hawkmoth asked. "To improve the odds?"

"It will take too long to do that. Ladybug and Chat Noir will have defeated the akuma by then if you don't get in there and do something! I can send something, but you can't wait around for it."

Hawkmoth swallowed, straightening and pulling out his sword. "Of course. I'm going in now."

As he ran down the rooftop and jumped into the fray, immediately coming face-to-face with a fierce-looking Ladybug armed with a sword, only one thought could run through Hawkmoth's mind.

He really, really hoped that this wasn't going to become the new norm.