#I would like though for several other dead angels to return as well

[supernatant]

Rolling up to AO3 and browsing the Supernatural ending fix-it fics like I’m at the supermarket

[angelic-dew]

# what they say when you fall asleep !

▸🪐・yuri's thoughts :: i'm back on my shit and i'm lazier than ever!

▸🍚・pairing :: Muichiro T. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Kyojuro R. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Giyu T. x g/n reader ⁞⁞ Sanemi S. x g/n reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done}

▸✖ ・trigger warnings :: grammatical errors. very slight angst. ooc? | proofread.

⮚ 𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎..

⯎. - “I may not express this often, but truly dear, I love you more than you can imagine.”

⯎. - “(name).. I'm terribly sorry if I upset you today, or well made it seem as if I ignored you. I'll try to make it up tomorrow, I promise. ”

⯎. - “We should definitely go cloud-watching tomorrow, just us two.”

⯎. - “I have a mission soon. But I plan on returning without a single scratch for you; and if I do, I need to be severely punished for hurting what's yours. ”

⯎. - “Sometimes I think about the day we first met, from then up till now; you haven't lost even a shrivel of your angelic beauty, (name). ”

⮚ 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔..

⯎. - “My little flame, the world doesn't know how precious you are to me; if something were to happen, I couldn't live with myself. ”

⯎. -“You know sunshine, I love everyone I encounter, but, I haven't yet loved anyone as much as I've ever loved you.”

⯎. -“(name), don't you think Senjuro would be a great uncle?”

⯎. -“I'm not sure how my love, but my heart ignites with passion when you're with me. Like an everlasting flame.”

⯎. -“My precious flame, I don't ever wish to hurt you, and if I do dare soil your ethereal beauty, I am a dead man.”

⮚ 𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀..

⯎. -“Hey.. (name), thank you for being there for me in my lowest times, thank you for accepting me... out of all people to be yours.”

⯎. -“I promise to stay true to you, and you alone, angel.”

⯎. -“You're like no other (name).. everything about you is special, you're different yet you shine brighter than the rest.”

⯎. -“Though I don't express it openly, I hope you know that I love you dearly my angel.”

⯎. -“Just being able to wake up and see you next to me, (name); that would already be a blessing by itself.”

⮚ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀..

⯎. -“Mmm, I'm so sorry if I ever yell or.. well, say hurtful things to you, those words have no meaning behind them and never will.”

⯎. -“Baby, you have no idea how much I wish I could spend all our nights like this - with you in my arms safely.”

⯎. -“Babe I think if I ever lost you, I'd go crazy, that's how badly I need you.”

⯎. -“I wonder, what did I ever do to be granted such a cutie.”

⯎. -“I hope you're sleeping well darling, I'm not gonna leave your side, no matter what.”

©angelic-dew :: reblogs are appreciated! <3

[rey-jake-therapist]

The Lying Detective, self hatred and acceptance of abuse

There's something I need to let out of my chest about Sherlock and this episode in particular, cause it's the one that really opened my eyes about something very important regarding Sherlock: he hates himself. He really does, and because he hates himself he believes he deserves all the abuse he gets from the persons he loves.

At some point he says he believed he thought he was an idiot, because Mycroft kept repeating he was the smartest one when they were younger. That was until he met "ordinary people" and realized he was actually, you know, very smart compared to others. And yet, he kept believing that Mycroft was way above him in terms of intelligence. He accepted it, and because he accepted it he trusted him to know what was better for him. And Mycroft, in return, felt entitled to let him believe that Redbeard was a dog and not his childhood friend, and to hide him that he had a sister, who was also a murderer, who had let said friend rot in a well. He felt he had to do it because he didn't trust Sherlock to handle the truth. He thought he was what? too stupid to understand? Too sensitive?

Now don't get me wrong, I love Mycroft as a character, and I know that he did all that "for Sherlock's good", but at the end of the day, lying, manipulate a child's memory and repeating him all the time that he's stupid was textbook abuse. And Sherlock wouldn't have accepted to be called stupid, and would have probably seen that Mycroft wasn't THAT intelligent if he wasn't so deep in self-loathing. But then how was he supposed to love himself if he was always treated like the "slow one" of the family by his own big brother?

When Molly slapped him not once, but THREE TIMES, because he was high, again he didn't flinch, didn't protest. It's not an attack against Molly, I understand why she was upset at the sight of the man she loved destroying himself, but my point is: he could have considered that it wasn't her business, he could have told her to stop. But again, if someone he respects like Molly believes he deserves to be slapped, then he does.

Now John. Sorry guys, that's the hard part I have to say out loud. John was an excellent friend up until a certain time, no argument. One could even argue, and be right, that Sherlock was the abusive one for a while: he treated him like an idiot -but then Sherlock thinks everyone's an idiot except for Mycroft, ruined his first date, unintentionnally (or not) ruined several of his relationships by being obnoxious around his girlfriends, played dead for two years instead of confiding in him like any good friend would do, made him believe they would both die only to hear him say good things about him, I mean... Sherlock's definitely not an angel and for quite a long time, he was rather a shitty friend too. I guess growing up without friends, not even your own sibling will do that to you, but it's an explanation, not an excuse for being an asshole to everyone.

And yet John accepted him as he was, and always forgave him, so of course Sherlock came to idealize him like he idealized Mycroft, for different reasons of course. For the record, I love Sherlock and John's relationship/friendship/bromance/romance/whatever it is. Up until TLD at least I found it... precious. Yes Sherlock was an ass, more than once, but he acknowledged it, and showed he wanted to be better: he not only apologized, but he also grew to become a better person, someone who would be worth of John's affection.

What happened in The Lying Detective, though... what the hell happened? So John was sad because he lost Mary. Understandable. Even if popular theories like to claim he never loved her, his despair and the fact that he keeps her ghost with him all the time said it loud and clear: John loved Mary, very much indeed. And he was mad at Sherlock who he considered responsible for Mary's death. It was also understandable, if Sherlock hadn't shut his big mouth, yada yada... Ah I love to see a a female character fridged so two male characters can suffer and grow thanks to her sacrifice . But then what we know... happened, Sherlock was high as a kite, to the point he was very close to losing it completely he lost it completely, he took a scalpel and John, well, stopped him. But then John lashed on him. He BEAT HIM UP LIKE A PULP, which was at this point completely unjustifiable because Sherlock was no longer a threat, and he would have maybe killed him in his effort if two male nurses hadn't stopped him. But this post isn't about John and his disturbing lust for violence, not really. It's about Sherlock.

What Sherlock did? Nothing. Not one time did he try to defend himself. He took all the hits, didn't ask John to stop, just once again... Accepted. He accepted that he deserved John's violence, even said John was entitled to do that because he had "killed his wife". And Joh doubled down, "yes you killed my wife". But HE knew it wasn't true. Sherlock didn't, though. He was sick because he felt as if he had killed Mary herself, and that's why he was so adamant to grant her her last wish. As someone who hated myself for a long time, I totally recognized the impulse to take the blame for everything bad that happens. That's what Sherlock does, all the damn time.

Violence between men is often glossed over because the old say "boys will be boys". After all it wasn't the first time that John beat Sherlock up, he had done it after Sherlock came back from the dead but it was just for laughs and giggles then, "haha so funny John assaulted him three times, look his noise's bleeding, lol", and also the audience thought that Sherlock deserved it after all, so... it was fine, sort of. Notice that there too, Sherlock didn't try to fight back and didn't ask John to stop. Like, I still don't undrstand why John punched him the last time: because he told him he missed the thrill of the chase? What was wrong in saying that? Except that it was probably true? I'm personally never comfortable with the normalization of violence between men on TV especially when only one is actually fighting the other, but that's just me I guess.

In TLD it was very different. It wasn't funny, and it was certainly not ok. And I was very upset when at the end, not only John didn't apologize to his best friend for physically abusing him, but Sherlock was the one comforting him at the end. The man had almost been murdered by a serial killer, before that his second role model beat him like a pulp for a crime he didn't commit, and he was still the one being strong for John.

I have a big problem with the way this matter was handled, because John's violence was just.... forgotten. And if it had been the only time that he had expressed his anger against Sherlock with his fists, I'd agree it was just a bad moment in their relationship even though he'd still need to apologize for making it ok. But here there's nothing that tells Sherlock that John won't do it again; nothing that guarantees that the next time Sherlock will upset him, John won't lash out on him again, and it will be acceptable because for some reason, violence against a man is somehow ok.

The idea is, I suppose, that there's no power imbalance like there is between a man a woman. If Sherlock wanted to fight John he probably could easily win, he's strong and has enough fighting skills for that. That's not the problem. There IS a power imbalance in that Sherlock will always believe that John is entitled to be mad at him, thus to beat him up if he wants. And since John apparently never apologized for assaulting Sherlock, I have no idea if he realized how wrong it was, and if he intends to change. I don't know about you, but personally I thought texting a woman in secret from his wife wasn't a big deal compared to what he did to Sherlock, and yet that was the only thing that, apparently, John felt guilty of.

Sherlock really broke my heart when he told John that by saving his life, Mary had given it a value. Which meant, basically that before Mary's sacrifice, his life had no value whatsoever, at least in his eyes. Let that sink in for a minute.

"The Lying Detective" is a very fitting name for this episode and for Sherlock in general, because Sherlock doesn't just lie about being almost killed by Culverton Smith, he constantly lies to himself.

He did it when he claimed he fell back into his drug habits "for a case" -if he wanted to attract the press/Magnussen's attention on him there was a lot of things he could have done, he did it all his life about being devoid of feelings and emotions, did it about the reason why he literally offered his life to Culverton; yeah he wanted to "save John Watson" and honor Mary, but it was also about ending his own suffering, a result he hoped to get at best by catching Culverton Smith, at worst by dying.

No wonder why when Eurus challenged him to choose between John and Mycroft, he chose to kill himself. That's actually strange that she didn't see it coming. Probably she didn't know him as much as she thought. He made that choice because he thought he was the one deserving to die. Not Mycroft, not John, not even Eurus... Of course it was also a calculated risk, as he had understood at this point that he was the only one Eurus wanted to keep alive because everything she did was about him for some reason. But I truly believe he would have rather pulled the trigger and shot himself rather than killing Mycroft or John. I saw once someone claim that Mycroft knew Sherlock would choose to save John anyway and that's why he wanted to make things easier, but I think nothing's further for the truth. Sherlock would have never chosen. It would have always been him.

[miko-magica]

Helpless

♡ Synopsis : In which Kaeya and Diluc never lost their father Crepus and the uncrowned king knight of Mondstat starts to be interested with a certain painter from Liyue.

♡ Contains : Fluff | Family fluff | Romance | Ragbros | Playful Diluc | Brother Ajax !? | Proud dad Crepus | Love at first sight | Diluc crushing |Might be OOC <<<<<<!!!!!!!!!!! | Crack

♡ Note !! : Sorry I need Ragbros and Diluc fluff, It's 12am rn so don't expect anything too good when it comes to words. Diluc in this fic is still a bit like himself now but he's cheery and closer with Kaeya. Ajax (Childe) is your brother because I love him and I think it'd be a funny conversation to have. Crepus is a friendly man in this fic and I can't tell you otherwise, he is a FRIENDLY MAN (I'm a hyv employee fr)

A beautiful Monday morning. Your brother, Ajax decided this time of day would be a good day to have a drink in Mondstat's Angel share. "Ajax, if we were truly related I would question how." You say taking a drink of your Dandelion wine that you both ordered. " Well, I would question why you drink only one glass of this amazing wine Master Crepus here have given us!" Ajax said with a chuckle sharing a kind grin towards the man who returned the favor with a chuckle.

Crepus wasn't really fond of the Fatui himself but you being a big help and a well known painter as well as his associate— he grew fond of your brother. "Well I can't exactly take all the credit, my sons did help me with brewing that drink. It was their idea in fact." He said in a cheery voice, Ajax seemed to be enlightened by this news; He seemed to have gotten the instinct to adopt another sibling. "Ah! Yes I remember seeing a knight with red hair, I don't remember another though?" You say with a smile on your face taking another sip of your wine.

"Ah you've probably seen Kaeya, he doesn't look much like me. The blue haired knight with a Cryo vision. He's a remarkable fighter and though he is quite fond of drinking he's very reliable. Diluc is the one you saw, he's very serious and snarky yet he's really cheerful around his brother. They're basically inseparable!" Crepus replied as the doors of the Tavern opened revealing two tall knights "Good morning Father!" The two said in sync as they walked over to master Crepus. "Ah! Speak of the devils." He chuckled.

Ajax saw the two and never took his eyes off of them, on the other hand.. the boys also had their eyes glued onto your brother. "Hello, you must me Kaeya and Diluc? I'm glad to have finally met you both!" You say in an attempt to break the tension, Diluc turned his head towards you and paused to open his mouth for a moment but he only bit his inner lip and blinked several times while Kaeya snickered. "Hello, you must be the painter our father has been talking about! You're even more stunning than father had warned you to be." He said nudging his brother with a chuckle, you laughed from his statement— a statement your brother seemed to not have appreciated.

"What do you mean by that?" Ajax said putting his drink down and staring Kaeya dead in the eyes "oh! I didn't mean anything like that, apologies I was just teasing." Kaeya chuckled apologetically while Diluc nudged and whispered something to his brother then cleared his throat "Welcome to Mondstat, I heard you were from Liyue? How've you enjoyed your stay so far?" He asked with a smile on his face as he sat down on the barstool next to yours. "It's been great, I enjoy the scenery here a lot. The people of Mondstat are also very welcoming and kind, I'm quite glad I've come here again." You say as you took another drink of your wine which seemed to have never run out.

"Ah.. yes. I see— yes.." Diluc silently says while Crepus gave a little chuckle, as you turned to them you see that Kaeya seemed to have whispered something to him. "Huh? Have I missed something.." You ask with confused eyes, Ajax laughed through his drink while shaking his head ever so slightly almost as if he was mocking you.

— Two weeks

"Kae I don't think you understand! Have you seen their eyes? They're gorgeous— not just their eyes it's- it's them as a person! I- oh my archons what's happening to me." Diluc says catching his breath "Yeah 'luc you told me 'Kae.. this one's mine..' in that tavern when you first met, it's crazy to see the great knight Diluc fonding over someone like this... Wait til' Jean hears about this!" Kaeya said teasingly, while Diluc sat on his chair helplessly. Everytime you looked at Diluc, he started to get lost in your eyes, every small contact with you had him almost melt into a small puddle.

"Kae you can't blame me— they wrote letters ! See-! These letters! Their handwriting- choice of words I- just everything! Do you see!? Kae I can't— what am I compared to them? All I have is my honor and my tolerance for pain! How can I —" Diluc said fumbling over his words while he showed the letters to his dear brother who seemed to have been getting a kick out of his brother's misery "Hm..you're definitely— Ah! HAHAHA! OH DILUC! You're crushing so badly I have to tell father!" He says with an overly happy tone.

"What— no! Kae you can't do that!" The redhead said with a huff but Kaeya seemed to not have listened since now Diluc is watching Crepus walk across the room to you— stone faced you were. By that time he thought 'I'm through' , the nights he received your letters, the time when he'd look into your eyes and he'd drown in them. Crepus said nothing about Diluc liking you but he did hint that he knew you felt the same way.

He was helpless when your smile was as bright as ever, your eyes shining ever more brighter than it ever did. The more he stared the more he felt himself slowly melting and fading away into nothing but liquid. The more he thinks of your beautiful smile the more he falls for you, the more he thinks of what his father could've said that brought you that much joy, the more he succumbs to the gentle feeling of being around you. When you looked back at him he looked away immediately while he grabbed Kaeya's arm and started to chat with a random topic and a bright red face.

— One month later

God, he was drowning in your presence,he finally had the guts to ask you out. You two ate in a fancy restaurant, his whole being was frozen the moment he had a conversation with you going on for hours on end. When he picked you up, when you ate, when he sent you home. You chatted almost endlessly, he wished for it to last forever. Diluc was melting everytime you wrapped your arm around his, everytime he saw his father and brother in the corner of his eye cheering him on. The moment you held his hand to bid goodbye, he was melting inside and each moment he couldn't help but feel so warm that it physically made him weak.

— Two months later

Ajax grew fond of Diluc upon seeing how much weaker he seems when he's with you, how he sees his hands tremble when you hold his hand to guide him, when he sees Diluc's face heat up in a way that it could be hotter than his pyro vision. "Treat them well, I don't want to see them cry." Ajax said patting Diluc's shoulder while Diluc just nodded firmly. Even though his face was straight, he was bursting with joy inside.

— Seven months later

He met your family, Teucer grew fond of Diluc almost immediately, a new side of Diluc was unlocked whenever your siblings came close to him. He wasn't really fond of children but your siblings were too sweet for him to ignore. It's actually really rare to see him like this.

"Your family sure is something, they bring out a side of me I can't really explain. Teucer confides with me and Ajax tried to Fight me." He said with a smile plastered on his face, you can't help but smile and chuckle. This man beside you, he could be yours if you just say so. But do you really have the courage to do so? Teucer was going to go home with Ajax to Snezhnaya tomorrow, you have bigger matters to attend to.

— Half a month later

"REALLY?" Kaeya yelled, it echoed through the whole winery. Crepus and Adelinde hurried up to Diluc's room upon hearing the commotion. They saw Diluc as flustered as ever but this time he's smiling more than he ever had, Kaeya was chuckling and nudging Diluc while small "congratulations" escaped his mouth. "What happened?" Crepus asks, Elzer who followed to see what was happening could be seen behind the two also confused by the matter.

"They're together !" Kaeya exclaimed as the three took a pause and cheered, Diluc was more than embarrassed now. Adelinde asked Diluc to tell her everything while Elzer watched on the sidelines as Diluc stuttered and fumbled. It wasn't over though, Diluc was teased the whole day— it even extended to the next day, Crepus and Kaeya never stopped talking about how red and happy he was to finally be with you. Though he's embarrassed, he seemed to be more than glad to be with you. More than happy to enjoy your touch and your presence everyday.

[sebastianthemadlad]

Who do you think will die in future chapters of Black Butler?

I know I've already made a similar post theorising over how Black Butler will end but I'm very interested in Black Butler fan theories at the moment.

I'm gonna be explaining who I think will die in the future and why, some may have more detailed explanations than others since sometimes I just have hunches a character will die and sometimes I have better reasons to think so and I may also go into how I think they will die.

(warning: spoilers for a lot of the story)

1. Elizabeth Midford

There are 2 main reasons I think Lizzy will die, 1 is that I just have a hunch, Lizzy is a sweet girl but we've seen that no matter how sweet you are in the Black Butler universe there is a huge chance you will die (cough cough Agni).

And also there is a bit of foreshadowing in episode 6 (I think) of Book Of Circus. During one of fake Ciel's monologue flashbacks it shows him sitting on top of a throne with dead bodies of familiar characters beneath him. Most of the characters are characters who had already died before then such as Madame Red and Vincent, but when rewatching that scene I realised Lizzy was there as well. Could that be foreshadowing Lizzy will die in the future?

Maybe the next time she sees the fake Ciel he'll try to kill her as revenge for basically pretending to be the real Ciel, therefore Sebastian will have to come in and protect him, maybe even killing Lizzy or the least severely injuring her (and after that Undertaker could turn her into a bizarre doll or something)

2. Soma

This is definitely more of a hunch than evidence. Soma hasn't been in the manga in almost 100 chapters and we haven't seen him since 2017, the last time we saw him he was grieving over Agni's death.

I'm pretty sure he'll come back since it's not really like Yana Toboso to write off a character and never bring them back unless they canonically died or something, we've seen characters not appear for a while and then return (like majority of the grim reapers, Fred Abberline, sometimes even the servants like Meyrin, Finny and Bard if the current arc doesn't focus on them much and more on other characters like Ciel and Sebastian)

If he does come back I have a feeling he may die, I'm not really sure how though, like maybe he'll mistake Real Ciel for Fake Ciel and will be like "wait a moment why isn't Ciel wearing his eyepatch?" Or something like that and real Ciel will assassinate him to avoid suspicion.

Speaking of Real and Fake Ciel, I wonder how Soma would react if he found out all about that. I mean him and Fake Ciel are basically best friends, would he feel betrayed? Or if Fake Ciel explained why he did it would he forgive him?

3. John Brown, Charles Phipps and Grey

Sorry for including 3 characters in one, it's because these 3 are a trio and I feel like they'll all die for the same reasons.

So, if you haven't noticed or haven't watched the non canon parts of the black butler S1 anime, there are a lot of hints to what happens in the future of the manga despite most of the anime being released prior to those events.

Examples: an animal based servant (in the anime it was Pluto, a dog man and in the manga/canon parts it was Snake, who looks like a snake and can talk to snakes), the servants backstories (while some changes were made in the anime, all of the backstories were mostly the same, Meyrin was an assassin, Finny was an experiment and Bard was a soldier in a brutal war) and Undertaker being revealed to be a grim reaper

Due to all of this I have a theory that John, Phipps and Grey are all angels. Why? Well in the anime Queen Victoria had a servant dressed in white named Ash who was later revealed to be an angel and was the main villain of season 1.

What does Ash have in common with John, Phipps and Grey? They all wear white and they all work for the Queen, they also started out as characters you probably think weren't as important to the story but then later became antagonists.

It also gives Charles Grey more of a reason to stab Sebastian in the murder mystery arc, maybe the whole time he knew Sebastian was a demon? And maybe that's why he wasn't so suspicious when he found Sebastian was alive on the Campania.

I've also sensed that both Grey and Phipps had a bit of a grudge towards Ciel and Sebastian. At first I thought it was because of what happened in the circus arc (which is why the whole murder mystery arc happened), but even after Ciel proved himself they both continued to be a bit iffy around them... Again could this be because they know Sebastian is a demon?

Ash died at the end of season 1 after his evil plot to purify the world by setting London on fire (yeah I don't know why either season 1 had a lot of plot holes) since John, Grey and Phipps are all possible alternative versions of Ash I'm about 90% sure they'll also be killed by Sebastian.

4. Queen Victoria

Sort of the same reason behind why I think John, Phipps and Grey will die, except for this one I have less evidence.

Unlike in the anime, there hasn't been very much foreshadowing that Queen Victoria has made a contract with her 3 angelic servants or even knows they may be angels. However near the end of season 1 in the anime, Ash kills her because she became impure since she didn't want to be cleansed after the part of her body that was Albert began to rot.

I'm not sure if that'll be the reason for her death in the manga since unlike the anime her grief over Albert is usually played for comedic affect (like when John Brown used a doll of Albert to cheer Victoria up) but maybe there will be another reason. If she doesn't know her servants are angels but later finds out, they may kill her. Or maybe she'll just be killed by Ciel and Sebastian for some reason.

5. Real Ciel

I think the majority of us theorize he will die, he's a bizarre doll after all and almost every bizarre doll in the story has been killed, also he's sort of one of the main antagonists now after he exposed Fake Ciel for pretending to be him after death.

Again I'm not sure how he'll die exactly, but I'm about 90% sure he will die

[serpentthecrow]

Killer Buns

Pairing:Kaz Brekker x crow!reader (gender neutral, no mentions of y/n, or pronouns in this one!)

Summary: washing the grease of Ketterdam off, Kaz and his partner share a cozy moment.🍂🧇☕🕯️

Warnings: none really, just pure tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, ooc Kaz

A/n :I am back! Exams have been kicking my ass lately. Finally wrote something for my love.Decided to try 1st person. Also, Kaz is more comfortable with the readers touch in this. (Image from Pinterest) ALSO; If you'd like to requests something, my requests are open, please read my pinned post before requesting, there you'll find rules but also the fandoms I write for ❤️❤️

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His hair was still damp from the water he just washed his face with, gloves long forgotten on the basin. His attire consisted of a old black shirt and linen sleep pants, instead of his signature well tailored three-piece suit.

I sat in the big armchair in front of his new mahagony desk i bought him for his for his birthday from several heist pays.

Book in hand, while the warm scented candle threw its light glow at my face, I looked up at him and smiled knowingly, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes. "I still have a couple of documents to look over, but then I will go to bed" he said as if he read my mind. I agreed and returned to reading, cuddling deeper into the infinite count of blankets.

After a couple of minutes he looked up and softly chuckled."What is it?" I asked curiously, as he is not the man to laugh of the blue. "I just can't believe I am looking at the deadliest assassin in the whole of Kerch." He explained. "Well you better believe it Brekker, or perhaps you want a reminder?" I said, though it was not exactly a threat, since the teasing tone of my voice was dead obvious. "I would rather not, darling." He replied with mock fright.

After that, we sat in silence again. One thing -out of many- that I adored about him. We could sit quietly for hours, but the silence had yet to be uncomfortable. After another half an hour or so, Kaz got up and said "I hate to disturb you love, but it's nearly eleven bells. If we want to visit the market tomorrow, we should head to sleep, unless..." He trailed off.

"Not a chance Dirtyhands, Nina ran out of waffle ingredients, so they must be replaced as soon as possible, or we shall not survive!"Both of us let out a small laugh at the thought of the heartrender panicking over the dessert.

After blowing out the candles, we were headed to the other part of the attic, where the bedroom lays. There reside our two beds, that Kaz insisted on pushing closer and closer, until they subconsciously met halfway through the room.

As the last lamp was faded, Kaz whispered a light 'good night' to which I replied with the same words.

"WAIT" echoed loudly through the dark room. "What now Kaz?" I groaned, half asleep. "I forgot to put on my fuzzy socks"he said as I exploded in laughter.

"Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, the nightmare of Ketterdams citizens" I exclaimed thought giggles. "Socks are important angel, a significant part of my bedtime routine!" He said, half serious. "Sure darling. Now,let's sleep before Zenik stops my heartbeat before breakfast even starts".

"Right, night love"

[kamidukki]

❗⚠ A long answer to an ask, POTENTIAL SPOILER ⚠❗

Below is a reply to an ask from anon zella about a tweet from akuneko official twitter.

I believe this is the text you're referring to?

The phrases 「come a long way」 「master where are you」 and 「disappeared butlers」 did show up. Though, if I may add, in the first part [もう随分... 遠くまで来てしまいました / have come a long way], I'm not sure if the subject is 'I'. With how Japanese works, it can be 'I' or 'you' or 'we'. Google Translate chooses to translate it as 'I', but it doesn't rule out other possibilities. In my mind, I always pick 'we' and think of it as the butlers', any of them, inner voice. But with the development of the main story, the thought of this being exclusively Berrien's is worth considering 🤔 I have some more thoughts about this line, honestly, but let's just move on first.

About the [dissappeared butlers]... In the original JP text, it just mentions 彼ら aka them/male. This twitter user noted that the Korean translation did change the 'them' part into 'the butlers'. BUT. They did use KR-JP Google Translator as well so it may not be accurate. I'd like the opinion of anyone proficient in Korean, if possible. I don't know if this point is even that important or worth paying attention to, so I'll leave it at that. I mean, it couldn't mean the angels instead of the butlers, right...?

Lastly, about the reincarnation part. It does have the word 輪廻 aka samsara (cycle of death and rebirth)/being reborn/reincarnation (courtesy of JapanDict). The question is, is it the master who is being reincarnated? It seems plausible. Most twitter users also added onto this fact that the butlers have no previous master, judging by some of their home screen lines, but just one that keeps being reborn and reborn again. And if not the master, who else? Having said all of this, I just want to say that while it's highly likely that the reincarnation part refers to the master, nowhere in the JP text post it says 'master's reincarnation'. If anyone wants to explore on the idea/other theory of the world that keeps resetting, I guess that's possible...?

Okay. Now, that's gotten quite long. And I haven't touched upon what the ask is really about either, sorry 🙏

So. I have read several theories concerning Berrien, him being the oldest of the butlers (not confirmed yet, but highly likely to be true), him originally being an angel (due to his name), him being a potential back-stabber (due to his weapon, the mysterious silhouette in the theme song, and again, his name)... Among them, I haven't given the thought of him being from another timeline in which all the butlers, or even the master, disappear.

There is an existing theory of akuneko set in the distant future rather than in another world like we're led to believe in the first parts of episode 1. So, not that far-fetched from the timeline thing, Zella. Although, I'm not sure if it's in line with 'various failed timelines' because that phrase would imply a multiverse. If it is multiverse, then a master who's dead will stay dead, while the butlers who disappear will never return. Or I'm misunderstanding something here, lmao.

That being said, Berrien's reaction to master's power is indeed curious. Other people pointed out his response to the question "Isn't there anything else we can do!?" during Bastien's demonisation is highly suspicious. Like he was too resigned. Like he was not helping in purpose. In his defense, Berrien may have witnessed such progression too many times hence the resignation though nobody believes this (including me, lmao).

Now, before I'm inclined to add more and more things and therefore go off tangent, I'll just end it here.

Have a nice day! 💕

[robo-bozo7125]

VOTE FOR STEPH IN @lemon-demon-oc-tournament !!!!!

I don't have any art for him yet, BUT I shall make you fall in love with him via the power of words!

Steph is based off the song "My Trains", and wouldn't you know it, this kid loves trains more than life itself! And that's only a little bit of an exaggeration. Who knows what the mystical allure of the train is - perhaps it's the horns blaring an angel's choir in your ears, perhaps its the way they speed across their tracks like a cheetah sprinting through a safari, perhaps he's simply drawn to the feats of engineering like a moth drawn to a flame. He lives and breathes trains - you should see the collection he has in his basement! He's constantly doodling them, thinking about them, reading about them, daydreaming about them...

Speaking of daydreams, Steph is an avid daydreamer. More often than not, reality can be...upsetting. Things in life tend not to go well for him. His parents rarely show an interest in him unless it's to get on him for things he does wrong. They support him in the material department - after all, they do fund his miniature railroads - but in the emotional department, they haven't a clue. Steph feels as though he can't come out as transgender to his parents, fearing they just wouldn't understand. In fact, he fears most people don't understand him. He can't fathom why people think his obsession with trains is weird - why even other train enjoyers find his passion over the top. That confusion morphs into anger very easily...and so he finds himself alone in school and among his peers. He daydreams to cope with this. In his head he can be in a world where anything is possible; where you're weird for NOT liking trains, where he can be his own conductor, where his parents love him and his hobbies, where he can get the haircut he wants and wear a binder whenever he feels like, where people won't bully him for his weight or his braces or his temper or his trains.

He spends most of his time in his parents' basement. That's where all his trains are and where he's set up shop for the most part. There's nothing more relaxing to fall asleep to than the soothing sounds of a mini train running around the tracks littering his room...did I mention he has a train bed? His parents find it childish, but found out the hard way that he would not sleep in anything else. He also has a whistle that sounds like a train horn, as well as a conductor's hat that he never ever takes off. Not if it can be helped, at least. Posters litter the wall showcasing various models of trains and railroads and newspaper articles about trains and railroads. He criticizes whenever media gets something wrong about a train, or whenever people get facts about them wrong, and will be instantly sure to throw various fun facts at you regardless of if you showed any interest or not.

Because of his temper issues and the fact that he knows how to get around without his parents knowing, Steph has a pretty bad rep. It was by pure luck that he didn't get severe repercussions from the beat down he gave to the asshat that insulted his trains. He tends to sneak out, to not go home after school, to stick around the wrong sort of crowd... or just make bad decisions in general. He knows his parents don't care, as evident by the several times they remarked that they hadn't even known he'd been gone when he'd returned. So he just...does what he wants. One time he even went train hopping with one of his only friends, who he had a brotherly bond with until he was found dead in his own workshop. Steph hasn't had many friends since that, and yet he still finds himself regularly visiting the arcade they frequented.

Anyways, that's Steph!!! Vote for him!!! And good luck to everyone else participating!!!

[cyanidemind]

what used to be three or four day episodes has now all of a sudden returned to the persistent gloom. the bright spots are fewer and even in them, the clouds block the brightness. even though i came in kindall and cuddled for days she still got up without a word twice at night and left the snuggles, and i don't care who she fucks, but i care who i care about, and i hate knowing that there are seeds of love that will go unwatered because distance and damage are again next to me. two years ago i saw brooke and her original woman hips and how she filled a dress the way honey fills a jar and i didn't care for her dog but i knew i could fall for her, so i did something i never do and i said well god if you're here, how about this, let this union come to fruition and i'll repair what broke with my mother and go further. but of course logic says you should not need an incentive to fix something if you want it fixed, and of course the faithful say god won't give you what you want unless you deserve it, and of course selfishness is at the root of my soul so naturally i got nothing in return. velez was married and ignored, and i wanted to send her back to her dead bedroom dripping and bruised, but she ghosted me. the other married woman, same thing, same scenario, same outcome. krystal gave me two nosferatus in an act of decency i didn't expect, but that doesn't erase infidelity. why didn't izzy let me ravage her like we planned? why did michelle cower at the foot of her domineering mom and why does she now have to kneel at her dad's grave? why'd bunnie leave after stringing me along for months, why was ash a man who clearly can't handle his own sexuality, why would vinita want her ex, why'd ava hold my hand, why'd rose choose pussy, why'd caitlin not want to try again, why'd shauna flee, why'd liz go elsewhere, why'd rey call me every night past midnight for hours and then suddenly go radio silent, why'd chloe hang up on me after a heartfelt talk even though i tried to find her a job so she could sleep easier, why'd two or three hundred other women treat me as disposable or try to get me to pay? what happened to kelly and pickle, her cat, and why did alice have to be real but a flake? why did i have to lose that game of darts when i know i'm better? why have i been missing layups? i have no one to cook for but myself, no reason to clean my room and no reason to shower and no reason to go anywhere. lives are now lived in tandem or away from me. rosie, aahoo, angele, olivia, yas, shivangi, julie. faces in the crowd now. i am an intruder too often in marriages, and now i am hyper aware of being unwanted or taken in small doses like i'm the oldschool green death nyquil. of being disregarded. how many people did i send this script to and how many got back to me? how many people were supposed to give feedback on these stories and i got none? i'm hungry so often and i don't want to eat because i do not like feeling fat and ugly. i'm disappointed so often that nothing is accepted. i spend too much money on restaurants. i have all these little nagging injuries. i don't know the last time someone came up behind me and hugged me. i am not in any weddings. the family i had here that i saw all the time has now dwindled and severed and left in so many directions that i am saddened to have to feel that same thing all over again as if the removal of one family wasn't bad enough. the one person i wanted more than anyone to share everything with and bask in the fact that we beat all of the awfulness that turned us into the shattered people we were is dead and i haven't felt close to whole since. the good things and the good days are here in miguel visiting and in my continual dart and ball improvement and in my consistency in writing this fiction and in my skill in the kitchen and in my cats and in health and wealth. selfishness and isolation say that i will succeed and i will succeed alone. but my god i do not want to write these books with no dedication pages, i do not want to go on a tour with no one making the hotel less lonely, i do not want to peresevere and pat my own back, fall asleep holding my own hand, and keep making meals for one.

[iloveyouphillipmorris]

MY take on what the roy children were like as kids. but it’s sad and i named sections after nick cave albums.

CONNOR: the first born is dead. was scrutinised and lashed out at for being too sensitive, he liked to tend to house plants and to the garden — picking berries and other fruit from the bushes and such he helped plant. was very close to their gardener, and was constantly harassed by logan for his proximity to “the help.” fundamentally he could never understand the struggles of the students over at berkeley in los angeles but he loved the music of gil scott heron and marvin gaye, he wanted to go and see it for real. when he finally was old enough to — and earned it — he went to los angeles. he realised immediately he couldn’t understand this to the full extent, thought if he smoked pot he’d get it more. was shocked to see the state of disarray that the politically flourished and aggravated people were post-hampton murders & davis trials. didn’t fully understand it because he never well. returning home he tried to convince logan to help, & was punished. didn’t know why he couldn’t find kerouac; not realising kerouac had died in 1969. has only read on the road and didn’t pick up on the queer undertones til willa pointed it out to him.

KENDALL: he was supposed to be the prodigal son but i don’t think he was planned whatsoever. logan wouldn’t have kept him if he was a girl. was spoiled rotten while connor was left to the wallpaper; logan’s approach was different here -> deliberately attempting to instil a sense ov manhood and independence in him, he was the first to ever successfully kill an animal during the family hunts. though his pride in him encouraged him to a point of masculine dominance it also kept him so close to the breast that ken was virtually helpless without logan. logan gave him whisky when he was 13 saying he “was a man now.” was pressured into loosing his virginity too young. despite the outward strength, was inwardly reclusive and shy — favouring playing video games and watching MTV instead ov playing sports, though he did briefly play baseball and after getting into rap he started playing basketball. drunk his first PBR in 1986 after the beastie boys’ “license to ill” came out. his favourite beastie is ad because he feels like ad rock never grew up. similar to connor, his interest in rap music ov the late 80s & 1990s came not just from his cultural surroundings but from a nativity to think he “got it.” was not particularly competitive bcoz connor was not seen as a threat ov any kind.

ROMAN: stranger to kindness. was named romulus to directly challenge kendall. it was time to let the dogs fight. roman was never a serious contender; he was a challenger to kendall in that he would serve as a kind ov training for kendall’s prepping. in this way, the both are sub-textually groomed. roman was born sick, he was born several weeks early after a difficult pregnancy and was kept in the hospital for a while. logan remarked often that that ‘wasnt promising.’ he was lazy as a child with the same temperament as a house cat; bad attitude, sharp teeth, quick if willing, lazy. would often abandon play time (aka coordinated fencing or games with kendall/connor) to go lie in a more isolated area ov the garden to bask in the sun. would pick the flowers that connor tried to tend to, ate all ov his vegetables, and for several years there wouldn’t be any real sense ov fixing his behaviour. had a deeply unhealthy relationship to caroline, bordering on sexually abusive. eventually, when logan began to realise that he was getting to passive he began forcing not just kendall but also connor to play fight & ambush roman to get his defences higher. was often aided by connor when he was hurt. didn’t care for most surrounding media until indie music gained a bit more notoriety. but he’s never claimed to get it. doesn’t care to get it. and if he does, he doesn’t want to. has seen bands like lcd soundsystem or the strokes, at like, coachella… wasn’t competitive fully until shiv was born, sees her as an equal. shapeshifted into a creature ov shame as he got older.

SHIV: eager but born late. logan said she had ‘been preparing.’ advanced quickly; took her first steps early, her first word was “dad.” took up tennis from an early age and started chasing roman around when she was old enough to — prompting a competitive spirit in roman. the two had the closest relationship outtuv the four, due to being closer in age. shiv engaged in play fighting with her brothers, but at the same time she had a puppy dog face she won kendall and her dad over with. think margo tenenbaum but keeping no secrets. has always believed she could understand people in counter culture. participated in debate, tennis, and fencing. mimicked logan the most, though attempted to learn more feminine traits from caroline despite the two never quite mixing well. she could never be good enough for her mother, so she tried to be good enough for her father. however for years she would only cry to kendall when younger, since he was prone to falling for her puppy eyes easiest. enjoys a lot ov obscure music she got from the crossfires ov connor and roman’s influences. but like she couldn’t tell you anything about cortex or whatever. she had lincoln logs as a kid. i feel this is important to mention but i couldn’t tell you why exactly. one day she just stopped crying.

[let-me-take-your-soul]

I have fallen in LOVE with that Angels of Death & Grief AU it is absolutely beautiful and you write it SO damn well. I was wondering if you could write Kid finally getting out of denial and realising that his family is actually dead?

Yessss! Grief is something that can be a bit difficult for me to capture sometimes, but I feel pretty happy with how this turned out. Definitely some heavy angst moments here:

Angels of Death & Grief au: Kid realizing his family is actually dead (angst)

Spirit was relieved that his daughter and her friends had returned safely from the mission Kid sent them on, but he was not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have with Kid. Afterall, the crew he sent didn’t come back with Kid’s family in tow. They did however, find record of their demise and a lead to the organization that killed them. Spirit hesitantly walked into the office where Kid was waiting. 

    Kid’s back was to the door, and he sat unmoving staring ahead at the mirror he’d been gazing into day after day, hoping to receive a message from his family. Day after day, nothing would come through. It was depressing to see if Spirit thought about it long enough, so he didn’t. Something seemed off when he walked in though. Kid’s attention didn’t immediately turn to Spirit’s, hopeful that he’d have two reapers behind him. Instead, Spirit watched as Kid’s gaze drifted slowly downwards. Spirit slowly approached him, wondering if Kid had nodded off in front of the mirror. Kid spoke then, in a small voice that Spirit had to strain himself to hear.

    “They’re dead… aren’t they?” 

    Spirit froze in his tracks when he comprehended what was just said. Hearing Kid say it after all this time, it almost felt like Spirit was just now learning of this loss. Kid slowly turned, his eyes empty and unfeeling. Spirit thought carefully about what he was going to say next, but nothing came to mind.

    “That’s what you’ve all been trying to tell me, isn’t it? That’s why I am… the way I am?” 

    Spirit knelt down to Kid’s height and did the one thing he could think of to do as a father, and as a man who understands the grief Kid is struggling with. He reached out and pulled Kid into a tight embrace. It took a moment, but Kid finally broke, his grief coming in sharp wails that reminded Spirit of the day the other reapers had been killed. Kid went through physical agony that day, but Spirit figured that there would be nothing more emotionally damaging than what Kid was feeling in this moment.

    Kid had his face buried in Spirit’s shoulder, clinging to him as he screamed. Spirit wondered if he’d known– if Kid’s brain had just thrown him into such deep denial to try and protect him. It was probably for the best that the truth was bubbling to the surface now. Spirit wasn’t sure what Kid would do if he presented news from the mission while Kid was still in denial. At best, he’d say that the organization they discovered was holding them captive and pretending they had killed them. At worst, he’d severely punish Maka and her friends for “not going deeper” or for “not taking out the organization themselves”.

    Spirit wasn’t sure how long Kid was sobbing for. The two of them could have been huddled on the floor for at least an hour before Kid had exhausted himself. Regardless how long it was, Spirit never moved from Kid’s side. Even after his harsh sobs had slowed down to shuddering breaths, Spirit allowed Kid some time with him while he calmed from the shock that had been prolonged until now. 

    It was Kid that ended up wiggling out of Spirit’s grip first. When Spirit took a look at his face, even though his eyes were puffy and his cheeks covered in uneven red splotches, something about his appearance seemed a bit less broken– like he looked more human. It was as if the acceptance of his family’s death had healed a tiny part of his soul.

    “I’m sure everyone feels I’ve been acting atrociously,” Kid said, his voice wavering.

    “Not at all. All of us were worried for you, but denying the loss of your family is something all of us can empathize with. Especially at your age– nobody should have to deal with that.”

    Spirit stands and lets Kid know that he’ll be right back. He leaves for just a moment, coming back with a glass of water for Kid. Kid sips on it, but his gaze is still empty and Spirit isn’t sure what he should say next. 

    “I don’t know if this will help…” he starts hesitantly, “But the mission did yield some results.”

    Kid perks up the tiniest bit, his attention immediately fixed on the death scythe in front of him.

    “We have a lead on who did this to your family. There’s an organization of witches who  have been recorded having research on destroying reapers. Arachnophobia is what they’re called. We haven’t been able to find any other traces of them yet, but we can at least move forward as a unit to find more intel on them.”

    Kid takes in the information Spirit relayed and nods slowly.

    “I desperately want revenge. Justice needs to be brought forth from this situation, but… I’m so tired now. I don’t know where to start,” Kid says.

    “I can get something in motion for us. I’ll call in the rest of the death scythes so we can band together. You should rest for the time being. You need it after today.”

    Kid nods and stands from his spot on the floor. Spirit follows him until Kid gets to a safe area.

    “If you need anything else from me today, call right away and I’ll be here, alright? I’m going to go contact the other death scythes now.”

    Kid nods and as Spirit turns to go, Kid calls out to him and Spirit looks back at him.

    “I just wanted to say… Thank you. You’ve been very kind and patient with me for a long time.”   

    Spirit gives him a smile and a firm nod.

    “Of course, Kid. Now, get some rest, okay?” 

    He softly closes the door behind him, wondering where this mission will take the world around him.

[faisul]

From Jack the Ripper to Sheikh Abdullah

By Faisul Yaseen

Passing by the narrow alleys of East London on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, I was awestruck by how London’s Whitechapel district remembers its anti-heroes.

A walk by the colourful graffiti walls in the most unlikely of London’s landmarks, the East End, is a lesson in history.

Veteran journalist of the BBC fame, Andrew Whitehead, gave me and seven other journalists from India, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka a walking tour of the East End, situated east of the Roman and medieval walls of the City of London and north of the River Thames.

During the walk, he informed us about the legacy of the area that has over the past 300 years been home to Huguenots, Jews, and Bengalis and seen cultural as well as visual transformation beyond imagination.

It was fascinating to find out how anti-heroes and anarchists had over the years developed more than a cult following in the East End.

Entering a small by-lane near the Whitechapel Gallery, I was surprised to see two of my favourites, Leo Tolstoy and Noam Chomsky on a black-and-white billboard of 36 anarchist figures hanging from a red-coloured wall.

Seeing the colourful graffiti and anarchist slogans shook me out of oblivion that despite better development and better policing compared to South Asia, there were people in London too who resent the state, the police, and the status quo.

The slogans of anarchism ‘Kill the cop, like kill them like sex f**k, like kill them f**k, just FYI. Boris would get it though’, ‘I don’t look sexy for your p**is’, ‘Not queer as in gay, queer as in f**k the Police’, ‘No Gods, no masters. All cops are bas****s.’ ‘Two-faced hypocritical, leeching, pancing, selfish, lowlife, scambags,’ ‘Hate cops, love donk’, ‘Tranquility, black magic, white angel, dead man walking, and ‘Pompey till I die’ clearly illustrated that these people want liberation from the “oppressive systems” of control from the state, religion, capitalism, racism, sexism, ableism, and speciesism.

Taking a stroll inside the Freedom Bookshop and Publishing House, I found several books about anti-heroes and anarchists like ‘The Slow Burning Fuse: The Lost History of the British Anarchists’ and realised how the legend is woven in London’s literary landscape.

The graffiti outside the bookshop was so eye-pleasing that my fellow journalist and friend from India, Aman Sharma could not resist taking a photograph in front of it. I reckon it can be a good profile picture for his social media accounts.

During the walk, we took a break for lunch and Sharma, two other fellow journalists from Pakistan Riaz-ul-Haq and Muhammad Iqbal Baloch along with me grabbed a lunch at East End’s bustling city centre. The aroma of fresh coffee along with the Indian, Chinese, Central Asian, and continental cuisine pointed at the rich diversity East End has to offer.

The openness of the people indulging in discussions over lunch exemplified why the anti-hero had become a legend in this area.

Returning to join the walk after lunch, I wondered how my native place Kashmir, a conflict-ridden region in the Himalayas, remembers its anti-heroes.

Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, the former Prime Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, has a legendary status in the region for the radical land reforms of providing “land to the tiller”.

However, he is also held responsible for the sufferings of the people of Kashmir for the past 74 years as he helped Hindu but secular India in the accession of Muslim Kashmir following the division of the Indian subcontinent in 1947.

Pro-independence National Liberation Front founder Muhammad Maqbool Bhat, who was hanged to death on 11 February 1984 by the Indian government for carrying out multiple militant attacks is another anti-hero.

Kashmir’s most prominent secessionist leader Syed Ali Geelani, and militant leaders Ashfaq Majeed, Syed Salahuddin, Burhan Wani, and Zakir Musa are all anti-heroes in the region struggling for peace and stability.

Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi has taken the status of an anti-hero to a new high.

Accused of allowing the state machinery to facilitate the killings of hundreds of Muslim men and the rape of Muslim women in the Gujarat riots of 2002, Modi has surprisingly risen to a stature where millions of Indian Hindus see him as a god.

Modi’s rise may be because people who shine as morally pure and upright no longer ring true to the masses, probably because we are not used to seeing such people around us.

Pop culture too has glorified the anti-heroes and anarchists, changing our attitude towards them.

Author Melissa De La Cruz writes, “We’re the villains you root for in the story.”

From listening to the stories of classical literary anti-hero Robinhood in childhood to watching my favourite TV show Mad Men’s main character Don Draper stealing the identity of his friend who died in the war in Korea, I have always rooted for the anti-hero, caring little about the moral compass.

But don’t all of us feel like that? Don’t we all like the Hulk, the Wolverine, and the Batman? Wasn’t Adam perhaps the first anti-hero? Didn’t he disobey God and instead pay heed to Eve for having the “forbidden fruit”? Don’t we like John Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ for its anti-hero, who was once an angel of light? Don’t people still lay flower wreaths at the altar of Julius Caesar? We may not like George Orwell’s Big Brother but isn’t he the anti-hero for ensuring order in society?

In today’s East End, a synagogue has been converted into a mosque as the Bangladeshi population has replaced the Jews who have migrated from the area indicating how Britain welcomes the immigrants. However, the image of a Muslim post-9/11 world is perhaps the new anti-hero.

In today’s China, the Communist Party of China is the anti-hero for taking millions of impoverished people out of poverty over the past three decades. In Russia, Putin is the anti-hero for standing up against NATO’s “expansion”. The US is the anti-hero for standing up for the West while engaging in relentless wars.

Walking past ‘Jack the Chipper’, a fish and chip shop, Whitehead informed us that the shop was named after anti-hero ‘Jack the Ripper’, an unidentified serial killer active around 1888 in the city’s Whitechapel district.

The shop owner did not change its name despite public backlash and criticism. He instead offered a 50 percent discount to women as 'Jack the Ripper' had been involved in the brutal murders of many women.

We concluded our walk at the two tower blocks in Sidney Street – Peter House and Painter House. In September 2008, Tower Hamlets London Borough Council named the two tower blocks after ‘Peter the Painter’, evoking protest by a local councillor and the Metropolitan Police Federation saying that the killer should not be recognised.

‘Peter the Painter’ or ‘Peter Piaktow’, whose actual name was Janis Zhaklis, was a member of the Latvian anarchist gang in the early 20th century. He escaped to Australia after the Sidney Street Siege in 1911 in which two of his three gang members were killed.

As we headed to our hotel, I realised how East End, despite criticism, keeps its anti-heroes alive and how anarchism is a way of life in the area. Some things live on as do ideas.

[heaven-s-black-box]

I need a Hero pt.2- destiel

Return to File

Recovery date: November 30th, 2021

Description: Cas is banished from Heaven and place into a coma in a ring of fire. He can only be awaken if a hero crosses and cuts open his armor including his mask. Cas believes he will remain there until the apocalypse. However such a hero in the form of Dean does come and free him. Upon seeing Dean Cas professes his love onto him and Dean happily requites. But when Dean comes home to announce his new love his father, John, is outraged. He tricks Dean into drinking potion that not only erases his memories of Cas but also has him fall in love with a according to John a more suitable princess.

Notes: Recovered in conjunction with CoralQueen from research lab Ao3, we thank them for their contribution. The other entries can be found here, here, here, and here.

Word count: 964

Back to directory

“So,” Dean started, before taking another bite of his chicken, “how come you aren’t an angel anymore? I didn’t think that was possible. Well, not without falling, and I thought fallen angels-”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full. No, I didn’t fall. And despite what you humans believe, we don’t go to hell when we fall. We fall to earth and become human.”

The two of them were sitting in a rather sketchy pub, much to Castiel’s dismay. A few weeks after Castiel agreed to help Dean, he made a few rather compelling points after all, they’d received a message from the kingdom of Lebanon. It was from Dean’s brother, and it was asking him to return. The demons had attacked while he was off searching for Michael, and their father had been severely injured. He wasn’t dead yet, but he was dying.

Dean swallowed, “So why aren’t you an angel then?”

“...I was banished. For protecting a nephilim.”

“What’s a nephilim?” Dean asked, mid chew. Cas glared at him.

“A nephilim is the spawn of an angel and human. Thi- Jack, is Lucifer’s son. I don’t know what happened to him after I was banished though. I never thought I would wake up, well, perhaps they would have woken me if an apocalypse were to come about.” They fell silent as Dean processed what Castiel told him. “Why am I telling you this?”

“I dunno Cas, might have something to do with all the pints you’ve had,” Dean laughed. Dean had insisted he get something so they don’t look strange, and since he didn’t eat, alcohol was the only other option.

“That’s absurd, angels don’t get drunk.” He frowned.

“Well, if you’ve been banished… maybe you're more human than you thought.”

Ah, then that would make this-

---

“The king wishes to speak with you my lord.”

Dean had just returned to the castle after leaving Cas at Ellen’s tavern on the edge of town. She was long since used to strange occurrences following the Winchester brothers, like the time a baby moose was following Sam around. He’d asked her to keep an eye on Cas while he spoke with his father.

“Of course.”

He was led into his father’s chambers, and found John laying in bed covered in bandages. He looked over to the door when it opened.

“Dean, where have you been?” John’s tone was harsh.

“I’m sorry sir. I thought I might be able to find a way to stop the demons, and while my mission was not a complete failure… it wasn’t a complete success either.”

“What di-” his breath caught, followed by a cough, before he continued, “did you find?”

“An angel. A real angel, the stories were true. I went looking for the archangel Michael, and while I didn’t find him, I found another angel. His name is Castiel, and he was once a soldier of heaven in the great war.”

“Are you really that stupid to believe someone is an angel,” John snapped.

“I-”

“Forget it. That’s not why I called you here. Sit.” He nodded towards the chair to his left.

Dean silently took a seat.

“I’m dying, Dean. And then you’ll be king, and as king, yo-you have a duty to do what’s best for your people… I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but the king of Haven and I have been discussing com-combining our forces to deal with the demons. He has a daughter, Anna. If you two were to marry-”

“Sir.”

“What?”

“I-” Suddenly, Dean wasn’t so sure of what he was about to say. He rarely went against his father, and when he did, it was for Sam. He’d never acted so selfishly, but there was a first time for everything. “With all do respect, I have to decline the marriage.”

John scowled. “Boy, what part of arranged don’t you understand?”

“There are other ways to deal with the demons, we can find the arc-”

“Enough about angels!” John yelled, and they could hear the guards jump on the other side of the door. “Go get your damn head on right, we’ll talk about this later.”

“Yes sir,” Dean grumbled, and left the room.

A bit further down the hall, Sam was sitting on a bench reading. He looked up at the sound of the closing door and sighed.

“Let me guess, he didn’t listen to you?” Sam asked once Dean was closer.

Together, they made their way to the stairwell and began to descend to the entrance.

“No, but he’s probably ti-”

“Why do you always defend him? He just told you that you have to marry someone you’ve never met to fight creatures that you’ve found a better way to defeat. When has he ever listened to you Dean?” Dean fell silent. “For once in your life would you be selfish?” 

Dean watched his feet as they continued down the stairs, and Sam sighed.

“What do you want Dean?”

“I want to protect our people.”

Sam gave him a look of annoyance. “No. What do you want for you?”

“I-” he sighed, “I want-”

---

“Have you calmed down yet?” John asked when Dean entered the room.

“Yes sir.”

Dean made his way to the table and chair against the wall by his father’s bed. There were a few medicinal herbs, but a space had been cleared for a plate and cup. His father was already eating his, from the tray on his lap.

Taking a seat, Dean watched his father for a moment before speaking.

“About our conversation earlier…”

“I’ve considered what you said, and I believe it may be worth looking at. Trying to find these angels. Even after dealing with the demons, they could still be valuable allies.”

Dean fought back a smile.

“Thank you sir.”

“Now eat, your food’s getting cold.”

[springtwirling]

A shadow passes over him as he stands. Showing something far taller. Bone and claw and tooth and promise. An easy stride as he walks around the table. A twist of the wrist, and the mist starts to swirl back towards him, coalescing. First forming a bottle, a ship and a scene told in myth and book penned by history. A lie he's stolen and bottled. The last of it settling as a cork and wax. He brings it up to stare into the sunset ship and mist, smirking as he returns to his seat.

A ship in a bottle with a story built over millennia for a name trod upon.

The faint clink of a silver token shaped in a 'C' tinks quietly against the gun at his hip, connected securely by a tightly wound thread at the grip, a once finely decorated but otherwise plain thing now engraved and molded with various runes. A sash around his waist the color of a brilliant blue, falling into a faint gold gradient towards the ends, hidden sequences of magic emboldened in the fabric complementing the ones in his gun, perhaps even strengthening them. Another necklace with the several mocking ones that hangs as a testament to his success in a deal, and also as a promise to his beloved long ago, that no matter what comes - hell or high water, god or being of creation, angel or demon, WHATEVER - Raphael will ALWAYS be the one to make sure he doesn't end up dead. (though... see where that got the both of them, hmm?)

His coat is no longer the tint of something that has been stained with blood so many times that has simply become a new color altogether, but instead a rich and deep navy blue with lines of gold throughout the patterning, well taken care of and loved throughout many years of seafaring and many fights with many things of too many calibers. One would guess that he'd start to smell of the sea, of port cities, of something other than smoke... but if anything the scent of smoke gets stronger; and with it, the scent of magic on him gets stronger, the weight of importance and deals struck with things far stronger gets heavier. The engagement ring that he normally willingly hides because the lies spread about him never include that he was ever in a relationship, let alone engaged, suddenly just appears on his left ring finger, and he's fairly certain the only way it'd 'disappear' is if he physically took it off of his hand. His feet move slightly as he looks over himself, the bells that only Clemency hears so often chiming clear as day on the sides of his boots and the faint threads of enchanted magic still wisping through the leather. Even his long hair settles calm and easy against his shoulders, as if it had been brushed merely minutes ago.

Raphael is in awe for a moment, lost in a state of memory...

"Clemency... I..."

He doesn't seem to know what to say.

After all, he hasn't seen himself like this in thousands of years.

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Just My Type (Strange x Reader)

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Warnings: mostly fluff, with a bit of suggestive content toward the end (nothing NSFW, though) and a few brief cusses.

===========

Summary: After a certain first meeting with the God of Thunder, the Sanctum Sanctorum is a mess. It doesn't help that Stephen is getting on your nerves when it comes to your thoughts on the "totally unattractive" Avenger. When you ask him a question in return, Stephen's mind is left to wonder just what you mean to him.

"No.”

“You weren’t?”

“No!!”

“You’re absolutely sure you weren’t?”

“Stephen, for God’s sake, I wasn’t staring at him!”

You were in the storage area of the Sanctum, sweeping up glass shards that had littered the floor. An unexpected visit from the God of Thunder had left your home in quite a state. Well, an unexpected visit for you. For Stephen, it was more like a dreaded social call. “You know, even as an umbrella,” you remarked, “it sure did a hell of a lot of damage.”

Stephen was attempting to replace the Shards of Gaea, which the bumbling Asgardian had toyed with during his stay. “I saw the way you were looking at him,” he said, a huff escaping his lips as a shard fell back onto the table. Damn his shaking hands. This would have been so much easier before the accident. “With his muscles…and hair…stupid accent…” There went another shard. A groan of frustration followed soon after.

“Okay, you might be onto something with those muscles,” you relented. “How do you think he maintains that? I mean, is it some kind of juice blend or magic Asgardian potion that makes you eternally buff?” You let out a groan and looked at your arms, pinching the skin between your thumb and forefinger to test its definition. “If I had a taste of that, maybe I could finally ditch my Planet Fitness membership.”

Stephen couldn’t help himself. “He doesn’t even know you need a computer for an email. He’s really not that great.”

“Oh my god,” you chuckled as you glanced up at the sorcerer above you. “Are you seriously jealous?”

“No!” he shouted quickly – too quickly. Crap.

“Stephen Strange, you are jealous!”

“Why would I be jealous? I have no reason to be jealous.” Stephen frowned as he stepped back to review his work, looking for anything to be able to change the subject. There were still a few pieces out of place, but it wasn’t as noticeable as it was hours earlier. He could just stash those in the drawer and finish replacing it later. The Silencing Spell of Suravi would help him immensely then. “Do you think this will fool Wong?”

“Don’t avoid the question, Strange.”

His nose wrinkled at the use of his last name. Unlike the others at the Sanctum, you rarely called him by it. It was usually, “Stephen” or “Doctor.” He had felt obligated to provide you this special courtesy after knowing you for so long. “I’m not avoiding the question,” he retorted.

You had seen right through his cocky attitude upon his arrival in Kathmandu. Like the Ancient One, you also saw his potential...but you didn’t send him to the top of Mount Everest to prove its existence. Instead, you challenged him at a battle of wits to get better at the Mystic Arts. You were tough, Stephen would admit. The two of you would spend days within the Mirror Dimension training, only stopping to eat and sleep when necessary. Even though he was adamant that he didn’t need to learn how to fight, you pushed him out of his comfort zone to use the Mystic Arts to do things he never imagined. He was glad you did in the end. Without his training, he would have been as good as dead in the attack on the Sanctum (well, he did die during his time-loop bargain…several times, actually…but that was beside the point!).

During your “days off,” you would teach him how to surveil the real world (when you weren’t messing with Wong in the library). It was one of the duties you truly enjoyed as part of your work with the Ancient One. Something about the quiet task gave you a sense of security and peace being the guardian angel for so many lives. It was also one of the qualities Stephen admired most about you. You were glad when he appeared to share your interests; he would be fascinated by the changing scenes before him as they happened in real time.

One night, he made the request to watch over Metro-General Hospital – his old home away from home. You would sit in silence as he would reflect on his life before the accident, explaining the glitter and fame. He never mentioned the patients themselves, the lives he had improved and saved. To Stephen, the only thing that had mattered to him was the work. He liked to be challenged and told something is impossible. Only when he knew the odds were against him did he truly step up to the challenge.

“I only need possible,” he remembered saying in his hour of need. If only that had worked with his own injuries. In a way, he was glad it didn’t. If Western medicine hadn’t failed him, he never would have made the journey halfway around the world. He never would have met you.

At one point, he had gotten you to open up a bit more to him. In between parrys and enchantments, you told Stephen about the life you left behind after first venturing to Kamar-Taj. You had a family, but one day they experienced a tragic accident on the way to your college graduation. The only surviving member was your brother, who resented you every minute of every day. You painfully took on the guilt with honor and left shortly after, finding your way to the world of Mystic Arts by a chance encounter with Baron Mordo. You learned the path of the Ancient One and never looked back. It was a choice you struggled to cope with at times, but the other sorcerers had become the family you never had. They encouraged you to be stronger, even bolder, than you were before.

It had taken time, but with your help, Stephen finally started to understand the lessons his ancient master had attempted to teach him. In order to move forward, he knew he had to let go of his old life. To say it wasn’t a struggle would be a total lie. There were so many times that he yearned to return to his work, apartment, and connections. He had even found himself craving the taste of champagne and caviar in place of the sweet tea and meals served within the sanctuary. When the Ancient One revealed he actually could return to his old life back in New York, Stephen would wonder to himself why he continued to stay in the first place. He’d always be surprised to come to the same conclusion: you. You had shown him an entirely different way to see the world; it had been you that shared just how fulfilling life could be without the constant need for work.

It didn’t take long for him to fall for you. The only problem he had was not knowing if you felt the same way and it bothered him. Feelings had become an impossible enigma to the great doctor and he didn’t know how to solve it. When the New York Sanctum had been left without a Master after Kaecilius and his band of believers attacked, you had been the first one to advocate for his taking up the position. He had expressed his concerns with you. For God’s sake, he was a doctor, not a soldier! You had only laughed and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. If he focused long enough, he could still feel where your fingers had traced a trail of fire that warmed his heart. Your assurance was all he had needed. Days later, he returned back to the city that never slept. He had only one stipulation, that being you would join him – an offer you had been more than willing to accept.

He sometimes questioned what the two of you were. Upon moving into the Sanctum, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything you did drove him crazy. The glances stolen over books in the library; the way you would remember to make him a cup of tea in the morning – always with a dash of honey, just as he liked it. Then there were the innocent touches. A hand resting on his shoulder as you attempted to read the same text, a gentle correction of his stance during training. Whether it was intentional or not, it still sent jolts of energy through his body every time.

You would always get mad at him for staying up late studying all the library had to offer. After hours of keeping the world safe and sound, you’d say, a relaxing night’s rest was surely deserved. Stephen knew it was pointless to argue with you. Frankly, he didn’t even want to. There had been so many times where he just wanted to drag you with him to his chambers. He desperately wanted to hold you in his arms and feel your heartbeat as you drifted off to sleep. If he was being completely honest with himself, he had wondered what it’d be like if you were actually his. The things he would do to make you feel loved, the things he would say to remind you how beautiful you truly were. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did with Christine. He would make the time for you. You would know that he belonged to you and he would only ever want you for the rest of his life.

With all his being, he wished that you could have even a semblance of what his feelings for you were like. No matter how hard he tried to subtly approach you, you always seemed to be more interested in something else…or rather, someone else. It annoyed him at first, which morphed into a current state of hurt. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see the ever-so-obvious connection between the two of you. Why would you want to choose someone else over him?

His constant fear of ruining his friendship with you was always at the forefront of his mind. The two of you were an unstoppable team as you faced perils and dangers unknown by the real world. You were one of the first people who truly believed in him during his darkest moments. Not once did you ever waver when it came to encouraging and supporting him. If he ever did tell you how he felt, would it change your mind about him? Would you even want someone like him or would you run away and he would lose you forever? The confusion and worry had begun to consume him over time, affecting his ability to maintain focus on spells. When he thought he was truly going to lose his mind, Stephen made the decision to ask Wong for advice.

That was the second time in his life he had heard the grumpy librarian ever truly laugh…

“I’m glad my anxieties bring you joy, Wong,” he remarked, a feeling of instant regret washing over him. The library had gotten warmer all of a sudden. Did someone set fire to one of the ancient texts? “It’s not my fault she keeps getting into my head. I’ve tried everything I could think of but it isn’t working!”

“How many times must you be reminded of patience, Stephen?” Wong had said once he had managed to catch his breath. “If things are meant to be, they will be. Just give it time.”

“Yeah, about that,” he replied. “Time has never been on my side.”

“If you’re really that desperate to find out, you could just share how you feel.”

After Wong left the library, Stephen remained where he was. His gaze scanned the leather-bound covers and a smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the late nights you’d spend with him reading at Kamar-Taj. Even though it wasn’t that long ago, those memories continued to be dear to him. He knew he couldn’t lose that connection with you; it was much too valuable to him in the first place. It was at that moment he knew he couldn’t tell you, even if the thought did kill him inside.

“Stephen,” your voice jarred him from his thoughts. “Earth to Stephen.”

He startled and accidentally jostled the table, knocking the Shards back on the surface. “Easy there, steady hands,” you teased him as a playful grin etched its way across your face. “Wouldn’t want Wong catching you red handed, now would we?”

“Why don’t you love me?” The question surprised him as it escaped his lips. He instantly wished he could take it back to replace the wavering frown plastered against your lips. Damn it, he thought to himself. You’ve really screwed it up this time, Stephen. There would be no way you would want to stay with him now. He didn’t need to use the Eye of Agamotto to see you packing your bags and heading back to Kamar-Taj.

The two of you waited in an aggravating silence for a moment before you shifted into an upright position. You appeared to be contemplating something. Most likely how to slip through the exit without causing too much collateral damage, Stephen expected. “Would you want me to?” you sounded uncertain, as though you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue. He didn’t blame you, but still, the response was a surprise in itself.

Yes! the honest response echoed in his head. God, how he just wanted to finally tell you after all this time! He could feel his face getting warmer as you cautiously took a step forward. In an attempt to combat his increasing nerves, he cleared his throat. “I thought your type was buff Norse gods with blonde hair and blue eyes.”

“Maybe my type is confident doctors who can sometimes be a pain in my ass.” You were much closer now, maybe about five steps away. Your gaze had locked onto his blue-green one, flickering from side to side as they searched for something. The only problem was he didn’t know what they were looking for. The only thing he did know was that he could get lost in your eyes, letting their colors take him to a dimension of their own.

In a split-second, those same eyes darted to the ground and he watched as you quickly licked your lips before parting them to speak again. “What about you, Stephen?”

Oh God, was this really happening?

“What- what about me?” he asked, mentally cursing his stutter.

You took another step closer, the tips of your toes were touching ever so slightly now. If he were to lean even the slightest bit forward, he would be able to close the gap which separated your two forms. “What’s your type?” you asked in a whisper, as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.

It was now or never. “My type,” he said, as he dared to lean ever-so-slowly forward, “is you.” Without waiting for your response, Stephen closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. If your friendship was ruined, he didn’t care anymore. All he could focus on was how well you felt in his arms. He could have held you forever and never had a care in the world. The only thing that could make this moment even better was-

You kissed him back.

In his past, Stephen had had relationships; flings or broken promises of something more. Yet this…this was something different. He had heard about the feeling of fireworks, but God above, when your hand traveled back into his hair… he was in some form of heaven. He never wanted the experience to end. He was desperate for more. His hands shook slightly as he held your waist, continuing to relish in the softness of your lips. When you both unfortunately- er, finally- parted for air, a smile lit up your face.

“Good thing you’re just my type, Stephen Strange,” was the last thing you said before your lips were promptly placed back on his.

=========================

Author's Note: Hey, thanks so much for checking out my first fic! As I'm a big Benedict Cumberbatch fan, I thought I'd start my account off with a one-shot based on one of my favorite films of his. I wrote this a short time ago and was really excited to share it with my fellow Strange fans. The one thing I wanted to make note of is the reference to the Shards of Gaea. I did some research to find out what the pointy objects Thor had messed with in the Sanctum were, but came up empty-handed. If anyone knows what they actually are called, please let me know! Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this piece and don't forget to leave a heart and comment if you want some more Strange in my works!

[baldwinboy5ive]

I call this Cobra Drive. AU where a sad boy meets another sad boy in his building elevator and they just stare longingly at each other for extended periods of time. (Daniel LaRusso, who made the crane kick famous, gets to add to his repertoire of bird karate moves by stomping Mike Barnes to death in the same elevator like a secretary bird.)

I also wrote some crap for this AU, even though I am not much of a fanfic writer. However, it’s not that bad. It’s just regular bad. 

“If I drive for you, you get your money. You tell me where we start, where we’re going, where we’re going afterward. I give you a five minute window when we get there. Anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours. No matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that and you’re on your own. I don’t sit in while you’re running it down, I don’t carry a gun, I don’t do karate - not anymore. I drive. Do you understand?” 

The well-rehearsed speech was delivered in an accent that was undeniably East Coast, but from a man who knew well the 100,000 streets of Los Angeles. Daniel ended it every single time with a secret tribute to his beloved mentor, whose life lessons were always punctuated with “Understand?” 

And Daniel did. He always understood what Mr. Miyagi had told him, and replied “Yeah, I understand,” even if some of his lessons had taken awhile to really make their impact on him. 

-----

Daniel moved frequently. It was routine now for him. Funny how things changed. He often remembered how monumental that first cross-country move had been, how the course of his entire life had shifted that summer of 1984. Now, his moves were quick, efficient, and all within LA. 

On his second day in his newest building, Daniel returned to his apartment by elevator. Another building resident stepped in with him, hauling a basket of laundry from the basement. 

He was familiar. Daniel kept his eyes trained at his feet while he felt the familiar man’s gaze on him for a moment. He allowed himself one quick glance, but didn’t manage to time it as well as he’d wanted. The golden-haired man who now shared a building with him was still staring back at him. 

His eyes were beautiful and sad. 

It was Johnny Lawrence. 

-----

“You just move back to LA or something?” was the question Johnny finally settled on after he and Daniel hauled his groceries into his second story apartment. There was too much he wanted to ask. It had been 34 years. Something in those 34 years had hardened the look in Daniel’s eyes.

“No, I’ve been here for awhile.” 

“So just new here?” 

Daniel nodded. 

“What are you up to now, LaRusso?” 

“I drive.” 

“Like, those internet car things?” Johnny asked, a touch of confusion on his face. 

“No, for the movies.” 

“You mean all the car chases and stuff?” 

“Yeah.” 

Johnny let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Daniel fully met Johnny’s eyes, and stared challengingly, the words “Oh, now you care about my safety and well-being?” hanging between the two of them unspoken. Daniel’s lips quirked into a slight grin. So did Johnny’s. Then Daniel knew. Johnny remembered it all. 

The intensity of Johnny’s bright blue eyes and the pain they carried eventually became too much for Daniel, who was the first to drop his gaze. He broke the silence by saying placatingly, “It’s only part time. Mostly I work at a garage.” 

“Where?” 

“Reseda Boulevard.” 

After a few more beats of silence, Daniel nodded his head towards the teen boy sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, as if only just noticing him even though he’d rode up in the elevator with them. “He yours?” 

“They sometimes just come with the apartment. Old place here is infested. Overrun with roaches, children, teens. You might want to check under your kitchen counters and shit if you haven’t already, LaRusso.” 

The boy snorted, not offended in the least. “I’m Miguel,” he said. 

A door in the apartment slammed open, and another teen boy wandered into the kitchen. “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Daniel.

“This is LaRu- Daniel. Daniel, this is Robby.”

Daniel stared at the two teenagers. Neither of them resembled Johnny. Perhaps Johnny hadn’t been kidding about them surfacing from under the kitchen counters. 

-----

At the garage, a sly smile spread on the face of the man who’d given Daniel all of his jobs. “Oh, you and the kid know each other,” he said, gesturing rapidly between Daniel and Johnny while leaning over the open hood of a car he’d been working on. 

“Don’t,” Daniel warned. He stalked off, but not without grinning at his employer. 

“Uh…” Johnny began. A “He kicked me in the face when we were teenagers, but I did sort of deserve it a little, and it’s actually at least a 126 minute-long story” died on his lips. 

“We’re neighbors,” Johnny said. 

“Ahh,” said Daniel’s employer, as if that was all there was to know. 

Johnny explained in more detail what was going on with his Firebird, and was told that the repairs would take a few days. 

“Miguel, call us one of those car things from your iComputer.” 

“It’s an iPho-” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” cut in Daniel’s employer. “You and the kid are neighbors! He’d be happy to give you a ride.” 

Johnny met Daniel’s eyes from across the garage. He did indeed look happy.

---

“Hey, I know you. Come on, we met last year! Well - met again. It’s me. Snake. You drove me and Dennis back from Palm Springs. Hey, I got this sweet job planned out --” 

Fury blazed in Daniel’s eyes. Someone both recognizing him and talking to him about his jobs was more than enough to make Daniel disappear for a few months, but this wasn’t just any someone. This was one of Terry Silver’s men. Over the years, Daniel had done everything he could to be free of Terry and his mob. But every time Daniel thought he was safe, eventually, Terry would always come back. And there would always be a job. 

Terry’s man - and therefore Terry himself - reappearing in his life would have been bad enough before, but now? Now he had Johnny. He couldn’t just pick up and leave. He realized with anger burning up in his chest that he didn’t want to pick up and leave. 

Daniel cut Snake off with a low whisper. “How about this? Shut your mouth. Or I’ll kick your teeth down your throat, and shut it for you.” 

All Daniel had wanted was to finish his dinner and coffee in peace, until it was time to drive Johnny to the bar for his night shift. Daniel stared at Snake, never taking his eyes off of him until Snake quietly retreated from the diner. Only then did Daniel feel comfortable returning to his food.

-----

Daniel’s face took on a detached and aloof manner when he addressed the man Terry had sent. 

“When you get your money, his debt’s paid. He’s out for good. And you never go near his family again. Do you understand?” 

-----

Daniel did everything in his power to keep his voice even. Confident. Balanced. But that voice on the other end of the phone would always terrify him. Some things never changed. 

“I’m going to give you a time and a place and you’re going to come and get your money. Do you understand?” 

Terry barked out a laugh. “What do you get out of it, Danny boy?” 

“Just that: out of it.” 

Daniel hung up. For once he had the satisfaction of dictating terms with Terry Silver. 

-----

“They came to my apartment. How did they know where I live?” 

“I told you, I was going to call Kreese, I just wanted him to know that… that it wasn’t about the money… that you’re not interested in the money… that you just did it for him.” 

Daniel exploded at the man who had been his longtime employer. So this was how Kreese and Silver and known it was him. “Why?! You told them about Johnny! Why did you tell them about Johnny?!” 

“Calm down, kid. Just calm down.” 

“I should fucking kill you - you told them about Johnny! That’s how they figured it out, you know - that it was me. You told them about Johnny and then they knew it was me.” 

“I just wanted him to know… that as soon as you returned the money, that was the end of it, that’s all! I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know?! How was I supposed to know… that everything led to Silver!” 

Daniel’s voice was breaking as he screamed at the old man. Daniel’s eyes were wild and he was breathing hard. Breathe in, breathe out, echoed the voice of his dear sensei in his head. Soon, his racing heart slowed just enough for him to calmly tell his employer, “They came for me, and now they’re going to come for you, too. You have to get out of here. Do you understand?” 

-----

John Kreese pleaded with his lifelong friend. “Anybody finds out you stole from the family, we’re both dead. The money always flows up, Twig. You know that!” 

Terry Silver fell uncharacteristically quiet amidst their shouting match. He looked at Kreese ruefully. “That’s why this driver’s gotta go, Johnny. That’s why he’s gotta go. He’s gonna tie me to this robbery.” 

It was too bad. Terry had always been fond of Daniel. 

-----

Daniel hoped he would never again have to fear for Johnny’s and his kids’ lives. He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror. Miguel and Robby were fast asleep in the backseat - and safe. Alive. 

Daniel did, however, find comfort in knowing that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to keep his karate hidden and tucked away. If Johnny ever needed it again, Daniel would use it. He’d help Johnny remember his. He thought fondly of the way Mr. Miyagi had once insisted that only Daniel’s root karate came from Mr. Miyagi, and had urged him to make his karate his own. 

If Daniel could do it, so could Johnny. Johnny’s Cobra Kai would be better - different, new. A product of the goodness Daniel was confident Johnny had inside of him. Johnny would use that goodness to teach Robby and Miguel. And Daniel vowed to be there with them. 

If anyone ever again tried to hurt any of them, the four of them would be ready. 

Another Mr. Miyagi lesson surfaced in Daniel’s memories as he continued driving. Back in 1994, Mr. Miyagi had returned to Daniel in LA after a long stay in Boston, and over the course of several days, had told him all about Julie Pierce, and the lessons he taught her. The final lesson had been: “Fighting not good, but if must fight - win.” 

That was what Daniel had done. 

Daniel smiled at the beautiful man in the passenger seat next to him, whose sadness never left his eyes, but who, despite this, could now smile back warmly at him. Daniel checked the rearview mirror once more, never taking his attention from the road ahead of them. Miguel and Robby were both still asleep. 

Daniel turned his gaze back to the road for a moment, feeling the hum of the car around him and those he loved. 

“I’m yours. No matter what. Do you understand?” 

-----

OH SHIT i forgot to mention, the idea for the cobra on the back of the jacket AND for including Robby both come from @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy !!!! Thank you for your moral support and help on these concepts! I always knew I wanted Daniel to be the Driver, so it didn’t even OCCUR to me to have the cobra on his jacket, until @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy said it, and then she said he can give it to Johnny later (even though it won’t fit him haha!). Just a note - I changed up the cobra design from the Cobra Kai logo though because the original logo looked kinda goofy as a silhouette.