#Phoenix protecting his friends theory

[alynnl]

I've been thinking about AA4 era Phoenix (Beanix, if you will) - and the theory that he distanced himself from his friends from the original trilogy so that they wouldn't get caught up in the web of Kristoph Gavin's conspiracies.

It's a nice theory, but I have one objection.

Does Phoenix Wright really believe his friends to be so incapable of defending themselves?

With Maya and Pearl I guess it's understandable. They almost got caught up in their own family's plot in AA 2 and 3 so maybe it's best they're well out of it.

I guess you could include Larry with the Fey girls in the "for the best he's not involved" category, since he probably would be unlucky enough to truly be in danger (if Kristoph took any interest in him, that is.)

But then we get to Edgeworth. And by extension, Gumshoe (possibly Kay) and Franziska.

Edgeworth and his whole team have proven themselves to be very capable of holding their own, and helping Phoenix solve cases when he couldn't do it alone. AA2 and 3 show Edgeworth, Gumshoe and Franziska coming through when it really counts, and Phoenix is grateful for their assistance.

On top of that, the Investigations games show Edgeworth taking down multiple corrupt people, making me believe he'd be more than a match for Kristoph if they did face off.

Edgeworth vs. Kristoph would have been a great logic chess sequence if it actually happened.

There's only one way to explain Edgeworth's absence from AA 4, and that's him being out of the country during the Zak Gramarye trial and the subsequent fallout. And perhaps one of Phoenix's regrets was not taking the time to contact Edgeworth and ask his advice before the trial started.

Maybe my bias towards him is showing, but I feel like that trial would've gone differently if Edgeworth was there instead of Klavier. Perhaps it was a coincidence, or maybe it was by design, but we'll probably never know for sure.

[ckret2]

What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD

(Love him anyways obvs)

I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*

*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**

(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)

His biggest sins in the show:

After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.

Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.

Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.

??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.

He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.

When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.

When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.

When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.

When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.

When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.

When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.

When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.

You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.

Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.

Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.

And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.

He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!

When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.

When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).

He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.

As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.

When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.

And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.

And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.

And then he tries to kill Bill again.

And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.

Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.

But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."

And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.

Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.

[fangirlingpuggle]

Half asleep fantasy high time travel AU idea where bad kids are still adventuring team as adults a big bad they’ve fought manages to get away and decides to take an Arthur Aguefort approach and use chronomancy to fix their problems taking on the bad kids while they’re still kids before they start the Aguefort adventuring academy or more accurately on their first day.

So, as the bad kids are arriving, they all suddenly get attacked and are of course freaking out (Golden horde is also freaking out because this is not his plan)

However, before they can hurt any of them cur future bad kids showing up and wrecking shit all the first episode before detention bad kids seeing their badass older adult selves and then either

A.

Bad kids have to stay in past to catch bad guy and protect younger selves as this chronomancy has gone multiverse theory and they only have a one-way trip back so cant lave til bad guy is caught.

Adaine: So we’re definitely in separate time line right?

Kristen: I mean Aguefort’s exact words we’re ‘no consequences you can go apeshit’

Adaine: Awesome *Instantly starts kicking shit out of her parents after wrapping her younger self and Alewyn in a blanket passing them Boggy*

Riz totally shots Goldenhoard, while him and Kristen are yelling out ‘HEY KALINA YOU BITCH SHOW YOURSELF’ Kristen having Cassandra’s power and kinda just going and speed running whole Nightmare king thing. Also her picking up her younger self and siblings up while her goddess appears just to flip off her parents.

Fabian’s younger self not being a fan of his older self being a bard… until Fabian kicks his ass while on his way to go get his bike for this timeline.

Younger Fig being so confused by the fact older Fig is Gilear's biggest fan and Gilear also super confused and trying not to cry because his daughter clearly isn’t going to hate him forever and he was sure she would. Fig also going to younger self like ‘Hey please stop with the transforming self you don’t need to it’s all good… hey maybe check out Leviathan for no reason’ she totally teasing her younger self because I have the best girlfriend ever.

Gorgug setting his homunculus on coach daybreak and also porter also sending a van after them to run them over.

Or

B.

They need to keep younger selves safe so scoop them up and throw them in the hangvan and take them to the future with them to keep them safe.

Cue all the freshman bad kids seeing how their lives are

Adaine seeing she has a family that loves her, Jawbone giving his daughter the biggest hug emotional to see her as she was when she was younger and Alewyn just uber protective over her baby baby sister and Adaine not believing she’s so loved.

Fabian shocked to see his older self as a bard (And he may have tried to sneak in and sue the weird elven sheet his older self has used not that he will ever admit it) but also his mother is sober… and a total badass. He also

Fig seeing herself with a good relationship with all her parents (also for some reason all her and her friends love Gilear) also she has a paramour whose a fucking amazing phoenix who younger Fig keeps tripping over herself to flirt with (disguising herself as her older self) Ayda thinks this is humorous older Fig is amused but also Hey get your own paramour.

Riz meeting his older self who is a badass with tattoos and so many friends. Also he works with angels. He is totally awestruck.

Kristen being shocked by how different her older self is and having a lot of realizations about herself. Also, her new goddess is the coolest and really happy to talk things through with her (Cassandra wants to keep her in this timeline, and is trying to figure out a way to break the timelines so she can get her as her prophet in the other timeline to without all the nightmare king stuff she’s the goodness of mystery she’s sure she can do it)

Gorgug meeting his older self whose a barbarian and an artificer and super smart and has a homunculus called Chloe and is so confident and smart.

[neonovember]

Redwood Oak’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory@nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2 @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp @thedonswife13 @hpsimpspot @samsgirl93​ @cynic-spirit

Steve's words echo loudly in your skull like a ball being knocked around your head, turning your brain to mush. The warmth of Steve's breath that had gripped you like a vice had dissipated the second the both of you had entered the expansive room of Steve's Office.

You don't see it, but Steve clenches his jaw in tight restraint to stop himself from putting a hole in Rumlow’s head and instead envelopes himself into the stone-faced demeanor he had learnt to form the moment he stepped up to the throne destined for him.

But god, did that horrified look on yourself tear Steve from the inside out. What had he done to you? It screamed betrayal in Steve's mind, that you not only had been hurt but by one of his own men. The man who had sworn to protect you had lied. And for Steve, his word was as good as its weight in fucking gold.

Steve had to play it level headed, the heavy weight of his father's presence was always near, but it seemed to cloud his vision at this moment,

“Don’t do nuthin stupid, think, just stop for a second and think”

Steve didn't want to think, he wanted to delve deep into the darkened desire within him that preened at the idea of Rumlows blood dripping between his clenched fists. Steve’s desire for violence shocked him a little, he could feel his fist shaking under his grip, like they had a mind of their own.

Steve wasn't a violent man, he was sensible, it didn’t matter if the entire city of New York believed he was cruel, because he knew every action had a means, it wasn't just to spill blood and crack skin. Steve’s entire enterprise was never built on appearances, despite the world it lives in, nothing Steve did didn't have an objective reason. He thought that would be a light of mercy before the spray of blood would coat his button-up.

But now, there didn't seem to be any reason to wait and sit, in the end, it all seemed sensible. Any threat of danger to your life needed to be eliminated, and returned with such a display of cruelty that no one would try it again. There was a gnawing feeling, however, at the recesses and edges of Steve's mind, the kind that screamed at him to see what was truly happening.

“Look”, and Steve learnt to listen.

There was something more to Rumlow than just scaring you, something more sinister, it echoed deep within Steve and the reminder of the cruel world beneath the gravel ground was as clear as ever. Steve had to find out because now he felt that your safety was his responsibility, an obligation he felt every bone within him scream to fulfil.

“Bucky” Steve calls the brown-haired man dressed down in a black suit, the outline of a holster poking through the waist of his jacket.

Bucky murmurs something into Sam's ear, before making his way towards Steve, his gaze shifting between you and the tall blonde standing a few spaces behind you.

“Need something from me, Steve?” Bucky says, making an effort to keep his gaze towards Steve, despite Steve's gaze being situated on you.

“Take our friend here to get something to eat, and then use one of my cars to get her home”. Steve murmurs, almost discreetly so only the three of you can hear.

You noticeably fidget at the mention of going home, it wasn't that you didn't want to, you did, by all accounts, but you didn't know what you would open the door to when you did end up back at the decrepit apartment complex you loved. Your apartment wasn't necessarily known for being the most well-secured, but you figured your neighbours would at least tell you if someone had broken in and trashed the place.

Steve moves towards Bucky, turning his body to face away from your wandering gaze

“Take one of my unmarked cars, it seems we’ve got a fuckin rat in our very own house” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear, causing Bucky to turn his head to face Steve. A look passes between the both of them, their eyes conversing in a way words never could, in a way that told you they had been brothers long before this entire world fell upon their shoulders.

“Well go on then” Steve’s deep voice whispers into your ear, you can taste the heat of his hand pressing onto your waist, as you feel the outline of his revolver press into the small of your back.

“Don’t think I won’t hurt my men to protect you, I’ll kill him if I have to” Steve murmurs, he doesn’t have to say his name, but your mind has been repeating it enough to know who he's talking about, and your heart skips a beat in surprise, air catches your lungs and you have to swallow back the strange feeling brewing in your stomach before following Bucky’s pointed gaze out the office doors, several dozen eyes watching your every step.

The squeak of Bucky’s dress shoes and the click of your pump loafers follow each other down the carpet and painting-lined hallways. You sneak glances through half-open doors and you're met with similar pictures, women and men dressed in black and white staff uniform cleaning and dusting away priceless antiques, ruffling pillows and beds that were never going to be slept in, and folding the endless crisp white shirts Steve wore.

You pass a hallway that looks different to the rest, darker somehow like it was sacred. You don't see any of the endless staff coming out of any of the rooms too, and the millions of questions it springs forth have your eyes squinting to see past the 2 main opening doors.

Bucky turns a corner quickly, and without realising you bump into his back, the rock-hard muscle acting like a brick to cushion your fall. You can’t help but let out a loud yelp, before Bucky turns and catches you from falling flat on your face.

You look up at him clearly flustered, and Bucky gazes down at you in interest, he begins to murmur something but thinks better of it, and slowly lets go of his grip on your waist.

Coughing, he straightens his suit, before motioning forward

“We’re here”

“Hmh? Where is here-” You say

“Oh”

You look towards the expansive dining room, fitted with leather couches surrounding a cast stone fireplace connected to a brick stone kitchen, an iridescent chandelier hangs from the tall ceilings, looking as if diamonds were dripping from above, and the halo of a sparkle glints over the both of you and you can't help but gaze in awe.

“Gorgeous isn't it?” Bucky says, and you glance at him watching the way the chandelier cuts the sunlight so it breaks across the dining room.

It was beautiful, despite being in a room that was in a house of violence, it was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

“Bucky? I thought you already emptied out my kitchen” Calls a voice from the kitchen

Bucky turns towards the voice, a smile for the first time appears on his face and he walks up with you trailing behind.

“You’re still here? I thought Steve gave you the rest of the week off?” Bucky says, and as you walk past the expansive dining room you see a woman dressed in a dirty apron, wiping down a pristine marble countertop that Bucky leans on.

Pots and pans hang from high above the centre block, glinting in a perfect steel arrangement, long panned windows filter light in from the manicured lawns and an array of shelves and creme cabinets line the kitchen. A double burner oven is situated against a grey stone wall, and low-hanging lantern lights are hung from above. David would have loved cooking in this kitchen, that is all you can fathom as you gaze across the opulent space.

You are too fazed to take notice of the conversation happening beside you, until the kind woman looks towards you, cocking her head, her hazel eyes gaze you up and down, taking notice of your strange attire.

“And who is this?”

“One of Steve’s friends came here to get her something to eat but if you're leaving, just know your kitchen is in great hands” Bucky smirks towards the woman, who shakes her head reverently.

“Oh absolutely not, he burnt soup once, goddamn soup!” The woman scolds, a frightened expression taking over her face as she widens her eyes at you.

You can't help but let out a giggle, she was nice, this woman, dark auburn hair braided into a fishtail cascades down her back, her cheeks full as her big brown eyes smile at you.

“Hey!, it was one of those artisan ones alright, screw me for trying to follow a recipe online” Bucky replies, rolling his eyes at the woman as he tries to argue his side to you

“It’s soup Bucky, you put it in a pot and let it heat up” You reply, shaking your head, the woman looks up at you swiftly, a look comes over her face and she nods.

“By your clothing, I can see you are a curator of the kitchen as well?” The woman replies

You look up at her surprised, “Oh no, I’m,-I’m just a waitress”

“Well does the waitress have a name?” She replies

You hadn't had to introduce yourself for much of your life, your name and entire identity stolen and curated by your husband until he was the one introducing you, and now, the sound of your voice feels foreign on your tongue.

“A pretty name for a pretty lady, my name’s Katerina, but just because you're a friend of a friend you can call me Kat. So what would ya like darling?” She says

“Oh, no” You take notice of the recently wiped down and cleaned tabletops

“It’s alright, you've already cleaned up everything and I'm not that hungry, besides Bucky promised to show me around the Manor '' You reply, wiping a hand down to iron out the wrinkles in your work shirt.

“I did?” Bucky replies, and you turn your head, pleading with him to go along with it

“Oh yeah, um, I’ve got to get my Vitamin D you know” Bucky coughs, wincing as he digs his hands into his dress pants.

Kat looks between the both of you, a knowing smile on her face as she nods,

“Oh, I know you'll be here a while.'' She replies, before you both bid your goodbyes and head out through the French doors and onto the stone steps of the entryway of the Manor.

“You really made me lie in front of Kat? What do you think this is? You know I don’t answer to you, and Steve told me to make sure you eat something, especially since last night-” Bucky scolds, before cutting himself off at the mention of your embarrassing

“You know about last night?” You mumble, the burn of embarrassment crawls up your chest as Bucky shifts his gaze to you in guilt

“Parts alright? It was late at night when Steve found you at that bar and it was getting..I just knew I had never seen Steve so, so..” Bucky trails over, shifting his gaze from your eyes.

“So what?” You reply, Bucky was about to tell you something about Steve, specifically last night and every inch of you wanted to know what it was.

“Forget about it” Bucky replies, and you shake your head defiantly.

“No, no I won’t, ever since that day Steve walked into my diner, I’ve been doing this blindfolded dance, spinning around the truth but never being told anything” You reply, challenging Bucky.

Bucky pulls his tongue from his cheek, eyes trailing the manicured garden of the front lawn before looking down at you.

“He was silent. He didn’t say anything the entire ride back, just motionless. And I know Steve has that stone face going on, but honestly? It was like he was thinking, plotting something in that mind of his, and he didn't stop until you were taken to your room and tucked in, hell he didn't stop until we both walked into those office doors”.

You look down at your hands, twirling the old copper band around your index. Thinking? Thinking? You didn't have a clue how to read Steve, let alone know what he could be thinking of all things.

“What does that even mean?” You reply

“It means Steve is deeper in this than he thinks he is,” Bucky replies.

You catch your tongue before you reply with what automatically pops into your head,

If Steve was in this knee-deep, you were entirely swallowed.

Your eyes catch a light shining from the corner of your peripheral vision, over the wall overgrown with ivy.

“I wasn’t lying before,” You say

“Hmph?” Bucky asks, clocking his eyebrow

“Take me there” You reply, pointing towards the wall towards the back of the Manor.

“You mean the abandoned garden?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head

“If it’s abandoned then no one will know we’re there, right?” You argue

Bucky narrows his eyes, but reluctantly agrees, walking down the steps in long strides as you run after him to catch up.

You both walk along the expansive gravel driveway, the piercing gaze of Steve from the office window above follows the both of you as you venture through the spiny trail that leads to the garden hidden beyond the large hanging evergreen trees that grew along all over the grounds.

Almost losing your balance once or twice, you finally make it through the overgrown foliage, following the stone trail that soon crumbled into the dark dirt floor. Bucky steps over a broken step, before unlatching some kind of bolt and shoving a rotten gate open, breaking the vines that had once grown on the wood.

You walk through the opened gate, Bucky following close behind, and the shrubbery opens up to a clearing. Large evergreen trees like the ones near the Manor surround the open land, however, a different kind of tree stands sky high, and you can’t stop yourself from walking up to one, and feeling the maroon bark rough against your fingers.

You close your eyes and it comes to you,

Redwood oaks.

Times when you would think hard enough, the silhouette of skyscraping trunks, and deep green leaves would cloud your vision, and when you lean your head forward you can almost smell your past. It is beautiful and strange and it hurts just as much. You can’t find yourself anymore, you've resigned yourself to that, but these thousand-year-old trees make you feel more connected than ever.

You want to climb into it and let it consume you. Sleep until you woke up and you knew who you were. It’s strange, the tree reminds you of Steve somehow, like you've been here with him before and it's hitting you like deja vu.

Something has gifted between the both of you, between you and Bucky too, you noticed it today when he spoke to you rather than through you. He didn't have that unsure expression anymore like he didn't fully trust you, and you don't know whether it was because of Steve or because of last night.

The clearing is almost a hill, and you can see fields of honey-coloured wheat and grass cascade into hills as you look beyond the tall trees. You can make out the backbones of where some sort of wooden shelter or structure once stood, now all that was left was a pile of rotting wood and leaves.

“Why is this place abandoned,” You say, it was gorgeous and let in the sun in just the right way for it to be reflected from the trees and shower the clearing with a honey glow, but it was hidden. And all hidden things were hidden for a reason.

“Don't know, it's been in Steve's family for generations, rented out to a couple people and then sold to a family in the mafia. Until Steve bought it back, it seems like this used to be where some sort of sheltered seating area once stood” Bucky replies, digging his shoe into the dirt.

“Yeah well it seems like someone’s put it to good use” You reply, noticing a small hardwood sculpting table fitted next to a workbench, a small but well-built wooden gazebo shelters the workspace, and you want to step forward but something tells you that place is sacred.

A sound comes out of Bucky and when you turn your head, he looks towards the gazebo like he knows who it belongs to. It hits you that he probably does, being the eyes that see all in the place anyway.

“This place yours or something?” You reply, and Bucky looks towards you in surprise like he forget you were there.

“Hmp? No, not me necessarily, but I think I know who” Bucky murmurs, his eyes trailing back to Manor fixating on Steve's office and you have to swallow the laugh that erupts at the assumption.

“Steve? If Steve was to have a hideout behind his Manor it would be for a guillotine, not an easel” You reply.  

You look towards the Manor and even though your vision only catches the pitched roof peeking through the dark pine trees you don’t doubt by the feeling crawling up your arm that Steve is watching you too.

“Steve, he's done something but, he's- he's a good man” Bucky replies, turning a rock onto its smooth side between his hands

“Oh yeah? Just like my husband is? I’m starting to figure out good men don’t need to say they're good men” You retort

Bucky shakes his head, turning the rock between his hands before tossing it into the shrubbery.

“You’re husband, he's done things you can't even imagine, he is the farthest from Steve, he's the farthest that Steve could ever be” Bucky replies with a heated tone.

For some reason that statement sent a burn down your stomach, in some sick way, you felt it was your responsibility to protect your husband's honour and name in front of Bucky, but it disappears when you realise you're the one who had run across the country to escape the very man Bucky loathes.

“I know the things he's done alright? I’m not that oblivious”

“I’m sure you aren't, Steve wouldn't go through all this trouble for someone who isn't..smart. But what you know about your husband is only what he's allowed you to see, in this life, there's so much that goes between looks and eyes,”

“Steve, it's this life that's changed him, changed all of us, swallowed him up until we couldn't even recognise each other. God I wish you could have seen him before, he was so carefree, ran like the wind couldn't even catch him. Your husband, evil like that is born in you, encoded into your DNA until you know nothing else" Bucky replies

“How do you expect me to believe that about him if you leave me in the dark all this time? You say Steve is a good man, well then tell me how” You reply

Bucky grinds his teeth, his jaw working as he weighs the metaphorical pros and cons of letting you in, and telling you things you he doesn't doubt Steve hasn’t. It was strange, Bucky felt it was wrong for you to be in this agreement with Steve so blindly, Steve had told him he wanted to protect you, but how can he say that when you don't even know what he's protecting you from?

With a gruff sigh, Bucky turns his neck to face you, delving into one of the main, if not the entire reason Steve is the way he is, and of course it had to be connected to you.

“About a decade or so ago, Steve was in love with a woman, she was everything to him, his breath, his bones, his love, she owned it all. Now it was about the time when Steve was ordained to take over from his father, it was a tradition since the Rogers planted their foot in the underworld, and it was once Steve's father did not take it lightly. Taking over meant your entire life would be dedicated to this throne, you would live, breathe and eat business, and for Steve, what he lived for was her.” Bucky shifts so that his gaze moves from the Manor. And like he's ashamed to be telling you this, to let the stark demeanour of Steve crack.

Bucky chuckles in the sort of way that wasn’t out of humour, your eyes strain as you peer at him, watching him scratch his jaw and tussle his brown locs free from their curls.

“Steve’s father could sense his weakness before it even started, I guess he thought Steve would realise what was at stake, the responsibilities that he had to honour as part of this family. That week before his coronation, Steve refused his father in front of an entire dining room of men. He refused to let go of her in exchange for his marriage to the throne. Told all of them that he was going to marry her and run off. And I still don't know if it was a show of discipline or plain evil, but Steve never got that chance” Bucky says.

“What do you mean?” You reply, your confused expression turning grim as you notice the bleak look on Bucky's face.

“She was- she was murdered that very next morning” Bucky replies, his eyes returning to you, as you whip your head back to stare at him in horror.

“Your husband, was paid by Steve’s father to murder his fiance” Bucky replies after a beat, your breath leaves your chest as you stare at him in disbelief, hands grasping the edges of your apron as you wait for the punchline, and Bucky stares at you in anguish as you realise there isn't.

You don't know what sounds leave your mouth, just the look of Bucky’s face tears you away from his gaze and the tears glide down your neck. You don’t bother to wipe them, you don't doubt there is more anguish to come, more revelations that will have your head spinning, more secrets that were kept from you.

“Hey, hey, look at me” Bucky replies

“I can’t, I didn’t tell you this for nothing alright? I can’t have you leaving here teary-eyed, you told me you were strong yeah? So be strong. Your husband is a murdering psychopath, he has been since he was a teenager, this mercenary job was done to get his foot in this business, and now you're all muddled up in it too. And Steve, he doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to you” Bucky replies, squeezing your arm to shake you back to the present.

“But why? Why would Steve’s father do that?” You reply

Bucky stares off into the curving hills of wheat and grass, shaking his head before replying

“It was Steve’s obligation, it had been since he was conceived, Steve's father thought he gave him a life free of responsibilities while growing up in that town, he didn't think that recklessness would follow him to Brooklyn”.

“Town? What town” You ask, and this time Bucky avoids your gaze, whispering incoherent obscenities under his breath

“That is something only Steve can tell you, me and Steve grew up together in Brooklyn during our teenage years. That place was something from before even that, before even me”. Bucky replies

You nod as you stare at the river that swirled across the Manor grounds, the shock of your husband's role in Steve’s becoming the invisible stone-faced don he was now didn't fully hit you yet. It was like you were numb, forced to put on a brave face in front of Bucky, who had trusted you enough to tell you about Steve.

Steve.

The man who you had believed conned his way into your life, and tricked you into a deal you didn't agree to now seemed different to you, you can’t fathom how a man like that, a man so instilled in the traditions of this world once defied it. Steve had once been so in love he was ready to disown his father's own expectations of him, and yet in the end it had gotten her killed, and it had left him seated on the very throne he despised.

“We should probably head back, lord knows what Steve would say if he knew you were still here” Bucky replies, pulling out a cigarette from his suit breast pocket, and flicking open a metallic silver lighter encrusted with the Rogers family heirloom.

The amber light that ignites the bud elicits a strange feeling that litters goosebumps across your body, it reminds you of a burning photograph, left to ashes and soot. You can smell the stench of it too, and Bucky watches you carefully as he clasps the lighter back into his pocket, nodding to the trail you had just come from.

Your mind is too preoccupied to remember walking back to the Manor, or even sliding into the car door Bucky had opened for you. Your mind circled back and forth between the answers Bucky had muttered under the sweet wisp of the morning breeze and the millions of questions that were met with the same silence and face of neutrality that Steve wore.

There was so much that you didn’t know, it hadn't hit you before, but it was so frighteningly obvious now. You were still the same foolishly naive girl that you had been 10 years ago, except this time, if Bucky had been right, you weren't being robbed of your entire autonomy.

You couldn't deny that since you had arrived in Brooklyn, you felt a strange pull that led you to Steve, you felt it the first time he walked into the diner, and although it was crowded by fear then, you can feel it in all its entirety now. For some strange reason, you hoped what Rumlow had said was just another thread of lies he had made you unravel, you hoped to god for Steve’s sake that all it was, was a childish attempt at getting out of babysitting.

You had steered your mind clear from falling down the rabbit hole of what else it could be, and the sinking feeling that begins to unfurl in your stomach now has you pinching yourself awake,  and forcing yourself to stare through the tinted car windows. You watch the blur of the pine trees crowding the curving roads and Bucky’s incessant tapping of the steering wheel over-stimulate your senses, resting your head on the window.

Perhaps Steve knew a thing or two about betrayal, and from the same man that had made you run halfway across the country.

[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 2: You Should See Me In A Crown

The rest of your first week with the Dagger Squad is spent working on team building. You spend the week being professional with them, especially Rooster. In your time, you've learned it's better not to make friends. It saves you from getting hurt.

That doesn't mean they don't try, though. Every time they go out, they invite you with them. You turn them down each time, a new excuse fed to them that seems to satisfy them.

It's been a month since you've been working with the Daggers, and you've settled in nicely. This week, you've been working in the classroom with Maverick. It's a nice change of pace and gets you far away from Rooster.

He's been nothing but nice to you this month, and you aren't sure how someone who's faces so much loss in his life can be so kind. You've never seen him be anything but kind to his teammates. Sure, he and Jake shoot the breeze and tease each other relentlessly, but there's no animosity behind it.

When the squad is at the Hard Deck, it seems like he knows everyone. People are just drawn to him. He has a light that shines from with in, just like—

Stop, don't go there

When Friday comes around, you're scheduled for an early morning hop with Hangman and then an afternoon one with Rooster.

As much as you don't want to be, you're excited to fly with Bradley. It scares you, if you're being honest.

It would be so much easier for you to deny the feelings you have for Rooster if he acted like Jake did.

Unfortunately, he was just shy of perfect. You knew that Aphroditie had to be pulling some strings and laughing as she watched you try to resist.

Bradley was kind, smart, and had an infectious personality. He was a ray of sunshine. A golden boy who rivaled Apollo himself, and you—you were darkness, chaos, death. You were a monster. And he needed to be protected from you and the pain you would inevitably cause him.

He's too good for you

You shook the thoughts from your head as you geared up to fly.

You would be working against Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman. Your goal was to take them down, theirs was to take you down.

In theory, they should have been able to do it. Two against one seemed like pretty good odds. However, Jake still had a lot to learn about teamwork. From what you've been told and what you've read, he'd gotten better at it, but when it came down to it, he was still self-centered. Today was going to be a good opportunity to teach him a lesson.

You were cruising along under them when a wicked idea came to mind.

"Hey, Hangman, what do you say we make a little wager?" You purred into your headset. "Oh, you know I'm a betting man, Hades, what do you have in mind?" He asked you.

"You take me down, and I'll let you take my Rover for the weekend. I know you have a giant hard-on for it." You goad him.

"Ohhh, I like that idea. Now if by some chance I don't, what do you get out of this?" He shoots back. "You have to stop hitting on me, because it's never going to happen." You state.

You'd rather swim in the River Styx

"Deal." Jake answers quickly. "Perfect." You reply.

God, he was making this too easy

"Fights on!" You tell him and Phoenix before popping out from under them.

"Hades? In front of us? Really, you're making this too easy!" Jake snickers.

You smirk to yourself. You've got him right where you want him. You quickly change gears in your jet and take off, leaving both of the other planes in the dust.

Jake follows hot on your tale, leaving Phoenix and Bob behind. You can hear both of them swear at Jake. You quickly break right and circle back to them.

Phoenix tries to shake you, but it's no use. "Sorry, Nix and Bob." You tell them before tones ring out.

You can hear the radar warning that Jake is on your tail. He thinks he's got you, but boy is he wrong.

You swoop left and right again and again. Jake can't get a lock on you.

You quickly climb up towards the clear blue sky.

"Phoenix, I can't see her! How close am I?" He asked her. "Phoenix?!"

"I'm dead, dick head." She calls back to him.

You laugh to yourself. This is exactly what you planned. You invert your jet and double back over his head. The glare of the sun provides a cover for you as you level out and drop into the pocket behind him undetected.

Hangman is good. You'll give him that. But you weren't just the queen of the Underworld. You were the queen of the skies, too.

"Hades! Where the fuck are you?" Jake huffs out.

Jake struggles in the sun and levels out. You take the chance to pop back up behind him.

"Right here!" You shout as you pop up and light him up with tones. He lets out a string of curses before banking left and heading into land.

You don't see him, but Bradley is in the rec room listening in on the exercise. He beams with pride when he hears you take out Jake.

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman." Bob chuckles.

"Alright. That's enough for now. Let's bring it in." You say.

As soon as you get out of your jet, everyone starts to high five you for besting Jake. You all break for lunch, groups heading off in different directions to eat.

You grab your lunchbox from the fridge and a book from your locker before heading to the rec room which is thankfully empty right now.

You'd just sat down and cracked the cover of your book and kicked your feet up in a chair when you heard the door open and a set of heavy boots on the floor. You don't look up. You already know who it is.

Sigh

"Can I help you with something, Rooster?" You ask, eyes not leaving your page. "I was hoping I could have lunch with you?" He asks.

You sigh and look up from your book. He's standing there with his lunch box in hand, looking at you with those damn baby-cow eyes and a small smile. You can't help but give in.

Good Gods, why did he have to be so handsome?

You take your feet off the chair and nod that it's okay for him to sit. You bookmark your page and set it to the side. He smiles bigger before sitting down and looking at the cover of your book.

Maybe he won't talk to you

"A Good Girls Guide to Murder?" He asks you, looking at the cover with a quirked eyebrow.

"I love a good murder mystery. I like trying to figure out the ending before the author reveals it." You shrug before taking a bite of the wrap you packed.

"Why do you try to do that?" Bradley asks you as he pulls out what is supposed to be a sandwich, but looks more like a toddler's art project.

"I don't like surprises." You tell him honestly. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to come off harsh, but Rooster, what the fuck is that?" You ask as you point to his pitiful excuse for lunch.

He laughs and rakes a hand over his face. "'It was supposed to be a club sandwich, but I was in a rush this morning, and I may have accidentally set my gym bag on my lunch box during my drive here, and so now it's— I don't even know. If you think this looks bad, you should see pretzels."

You can't help but snort out a laugh at his misfortune. You watch him struggle to separate the layers of his sandwich from the plastic wrap. You give him a few minutes before taking pity on him and snatching it out of his hand and tossing it in the trash can.

"Hey! I was going to eat that!" He jokingly scolds you.

You roll your eyes at him before unzipping your lunch box. You were sure you'd regret this later, but you needed him properly fueled up for flying with you, that's why you were doing this.

Maybe a friendship wouldn't be so bad

"Here," you say as you extend the extra wrap you had packed towards him.

"Thank you, but I can't take your food." Bradley politely declines.

"You can, and you will. That's an order from your superior officer. Can't have you flying with me at anything less than you best." You firmly state.

"Yes, Ma'am, Commander." Bradley relents. There's an edge of something in his voice when he calls you by your rank. It's smoother than how he normally addresses you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that there was a hint of desire in it.

No, don't go there. He's just messing with you

He leans forward and takes the wrap from your hands. His eyes linger on your for just a moment linger than necessary. You can feel a flush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly settle back in your chair and clear your throat.

"It's spicy." You blurt out. Rooster looks at you confused. "The wrap. It's spicy. It's buffalo chicken. Sorry, I should have told you that before." You shake your head.

"No worries. I love spicy things. The hotter, the better." You winks at you. He honest to gods winks at you.

Is he flirting with you right now?

You open your mouth for a witty comeback, but you can't think of one. You're too focused on watching him take a generous bite of the lunch you've offered him. You transfixed as he lets out an appreciative groan.

"'Holy shit, this is fantastic. You make this yourself?" Rooster asks you after he swallowed another bite.

"Yeah, I love cooking." You spit out. His happy little sounds he makes when he his eating has you flustered for the first time in a very long time.

You haven't felt like this since you were a young God, lying in a wildflower field, your head in Persephone's lap as she braided poppies in your hair and hummed under her breath. It makes your heart ache that he's so much like her.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if she knows about Bradley. You wonder if she sits on her flower throne and looks down upon you to see what you're up to. You wonder if she misses you.

But then you think better of it. She has no reason to miss you. Not after—

She doesn't miss you

No one does

"Hades, you ready to go?" Bradley asks as he pulls you from your thoughts.

"What?" You ask him, not sure what he just said.

"Our hop is in forty-five minutes. We might want to suit up." Bradley tells you.

"Oh, yeah." I'll meet you in the hanger." You say before quickly gathering your things.

"Thanks again for lunch!" Bradley calls behind you as you bolt for the locker room. Thankfully, it's empty when you go in there. You shove your belongings away before dashing over to a sink and splashing some cold water on your face. It sizzles and turns to steam in an instant.

"Stop it!" You yell at your reflection in the mirror. "Stop letting a silly mortal throw you off." You say to yourself. "Feelings are for the weak. Love and desire will only hold you back or hurt you." You say before shaking your head. You splash some more cold water on your cheeks. As much as you want to give into the desire that is sparking, you know it's a bad idea. You gave in once, and look where that got you.

But you like the way he makes you feel

You like that he isn't afraid of you

You roll your shoulders back and compose yourself before heading out of the locker room. Your sleek black helmet with neon blue flames and letters bearing your call sign is tucked up under your arm.

Rooster is chatting with Maverick inside the open hanger when you meet up with them.

"You ready for this test run? You and Rooster will be working together to try and take me down." Maverick says.

"I've been told no one has been able to take you out, sir. I hope you're ready for that winning streak to come to an end." You tell Maverick with a serious look. He laughs at your enthusiasm.

Before the three of you head to your planes, you quickly blink three times to make their lifetime counters appear.

Maverick's is unchanged from the last time you saw him, but your heart drops when you look at Bradley's. The nearly fifty years he had this morning had now been replaced with a little over an hour. That meant something was going to happen during your hop.

No. You couldn't let that happen

"Wait!" You screech. Both men turn to look at you. "I haven't done my preflight check. Have you?" You ask them.

"'Lieutenant Myers, from mantanince gave them a once over for us during our lunch. We should be fine." Maverick assures you.

"Still, I think we should go over them again just to be safe." You try to persuade them as you watch Bradley's timer dwindle.

"Hades, Lieutenant Myers knows what he's doing." Rooster tries to convince you.

"I—I just have a gut feeling. Call me crazy. I'll make you a deal. We do a deep check on the aircrafts. If everything is fine, drinks are on me tonight at the Hard Deck. If something is off, we can prevent anything bad from happening." You say.

"Fine. I guess double checking couldn't hurt." Maverick reluctantly agrees.

The three of you spend the next half hour going over your jets. Well—you pretend to be. You're more focused on Rooster's time clock. It still hadn't gone back up. If it didn't before the flight, you'd have to be extra vigilant during the hop to make sure nothing happens to him.

You're checking some gears when you hear Bradley call out. "Oh shit. That's not fucking good."

You and Maverick both cone around to see what he's talking about. You don't really care what it is. You're more concerned with his clock. You turn the corner of your plane and see that his timer has gone back up. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" You ask him.

"The fuel line is loose. If I had taken this in the air, it probably would have detached, and I would have been screwed. Mav, you need to talk to Lieutenant Myers and make sure he knows what he's doing." Bradley says as he stands there with his hands on his hips.

"Well, Rooster, you're definitely grounded for the rest of the day. It looks like we will have to reschedule the software test because it's a three pilot job." Maverick sighed.

"Damn, I was really looking forward to Hades and I kicking your ass old man." Rooster laughs.

"Well, we still have the range for the rest of the afternoon. Are you two up for something fun?" Maverick says in a low voice with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Define 'fun'." You say as you turn to him. "I was thinking a little ace versus ace action Hades. You and me, first one to get missile lock on the other wins. I've seen you fly. I know you're good, kid. But I want to know if you can beat the best." Maverick smirks at you.

"What's the wager?" You ask him.

"200 push-ups and bragging rights?" Maverick propositions you.

"500, bragging rights, and a joyride in your P-51 I've heard so much about." You counter.

"Deal." You and Maverick shake hands.

"What about me?" Rooster throws up his hands before putting him on his hips and staring the two of you down.

You pause for a moment and look around the hanger before your eyes land on Phoenix and Bob's plane. A devilish grin spreads across your face.

"Rooster, have you ever been a back seater?" You ask him with a Cheshire smile.

"Oh no, Hades, I don't like that look." He shakes his head, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Too bad, it's the only one I've got." You shrug before taking off towards the two seater aircraft. Bradley follows hot on your heels.

You climb into the cockpit, and both of you go over your preflight checks. "Hades, you know I'm fucking clueless back her right? My dad was a RIO, and I did not inherit his skill set." Rooster tells you as he fits his oxygen mask to his face.

"Don't worry, Roo. Just buckle up and enjoy the ride." You tell him as you head down the runway.

Wait. Are you flirting with him?

Moments later, the two of you are airborne and on the hunt for Maverick. "As far as I can tell, nothing on radar, and I don't see him." Rooster reports as he scans the sky. You acknowledge him as you do the same.

"Come on, Maverick, where are you?" You mumble. You think back to your training. If he's not on radar, he's either too far away or directly under your or above you. You doubt he is above you, so your best guess is he is flying under you just out of sight.

Trusting your guy, you climb higher. "Holy shit. Hades, what are you doing?" Rooster asks you, startled by your sudden movements.

"Trust me," you say. Once you're high enough, you invernt and, bingo. Just like you thought, Maverick is below you.

"Hang on, Rooster. I've got him, " you say before dropping down straight for Maverick.

The glare of the sun helps hide you, but Maverick is smart and sees you coming. You drop in behind him.

Rooster is shouting directions at you trying to help. He's known Maverick longer and knows his tricks.

Soon, the two of you are locked in a battle of wits. Maverick can't shake you, but you can't get a lock on him.

"I need to get him to a higher altitude. Any ideas?" You ask Rooster. "One, but you aren't going to like it." Bradley chuckles before telling you his plan. He was right, you didn't like it, you loved it.

You rose and hovered over Maverick, inverting and keeping pace with him before forcing him into a climbing cobra spiral. The two jets danced across the sky, higher and higher.

"Alright, Hades, you put us here. What's your plan?" Maverick asks as he matches you, turn for turn.

"A magician never reveals all her secrets." You tell him as you narrow your eyes.

"Now, Rooster?" You ask Bradley for confirmation.

"Now!" He confirms. One his signal, you let up of the thrust and break out of the spiral before dropping into the pocket behind Maverick. He wasn't expecting the sudden change, and it throws him off. Maverick quickly corrects himself and attempts to evade you, but it's no use. You have him right where you want him. For the first time in a year, Maverick hears the missile lock tones ring out in his head set.

"Holy shit! You got him!" Rooster cheers as he celebrates in his seat.

You wish you could turn around and see what he looks like right now. You're sure a bright smile is spread across his face just under his oxygen mask. You bring the plane in for a landing as he continues to cheer. His joyfulness is infectious.

Just like hers was.

When your boots hit the tarmac after landing, you're prepared to head to the locker room. You're making Maverick save his push-ups for Monday so everyone can watch. Rooster is itching to get to the Hard Deck to tell everyone about today, and he's eager to see you outside of your uniform.

What you weren't prepared for, however, was for Rooster to wrap his arms around you in a crushing bear hug and for him to spin you around while praising you.

You face smooshes into his chest, and you inhale his scent. He smells like jet fuel, sunshine, and poppy.

You want to fight the hug, but at the same time, you want to lean into it.

He's so warm

Something about him feels—safe

When his brain finally catches up with him, he quickly puts you down before taking a step back and looking down.

"Sorry, I—I shouldn't have done that." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

Do it again

"'It's fine. You were excited. No sweat." You brush him off. He sighs out an agreement, and you see the flash of hurt across his eyes.

"You were really something up there, Hades." Bradley remarks as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms.

"But, I gotta know. How did you know something was wrong with my plane?" Rooster asked you. "I just had a gut feeling. Something felt off." You shrug.

"You basically saved my life. If I'd gone up with that leaking fuel line, who knows what could have happened." Bradley said.

You know what would have happened.

"Maybe we should start calling you Angel instead of Hades." Bradley chuckles. "Seeing how you were watching out for me, it fits." You pause and stare at him.

"You know, because Hades is the God of death, but you were like a guardian angel looking out for me today." He tries to explain to you.

"Trust me, Roo. I'm no angel." You say with a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Too late." Bradley fires back. "I've already decided, that's your new nickname. Now, I will see you at the Hard Deck so we can rub it in Jake's face that you were the first one to take down Mav—Angel." Bradley smirks at you before disappearing into the men's locker room.

You shake your head

If only he knew

You quickly shower and change. You knew you were going out with the team tonight, so you remember to pack something nice to wear. You slip into a black body body suit that has a tasteful amount of cleavage that is accentuated by the lace of the bralette you have on underneath it.

A dark pair of ripped jeans and black ankle boots complete the look. You tie a flannel shirt around your waist just in case it gets chilly this evening.

You pull half of your hair up away from your face before applying some very out of regs make-up. Just because you were going there to keep up appearances didn't mean you had to look like a slob when doing it.

There was something about fashion that made you feel powerful. And if Bradley just so happened to like it and give you a little extra attention, what was the harm in that?

"And Aphroditie thinks she's the pretty one." You chuckle to yourself after you swipe your final coat of lipstick on.

.............

Jake let's out a low wolf-whistle the second he sees you approaching the corner pool table that the Daggers take up residence at every time they are at the Hard Deck.

"What do we have here? If it ain't Hades." He calls out as you approach them. "And here I thought I we were the good-looking ones, Coyote." Jake chuckles as he approaches you. You roll your eyes and grab the pool stick out of his hand.

He goes to protest, but you don't pay him any attention. You line up a shot and look up just in time to lock eyes with Rooster. You hold eye contact with him and give him a crimson smile as the ball drops into the pocket.

"Eat your heart out, Bagman." Jake stands there looking at you bewildered with some shot glasses in his hand. You take one and down the liquid before handing it back to him. "While you're doing that, I think we all could use another round. Why don't you be a dear and grab it for us. "You wink at him as you make your way around the table to Rooster.

"You sure know how to make an entrance." Bradley says as you walk up to him. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on you as he takes in your form. "You look—good." He tells you.

"Maybe if you wore something besides Hawaiian shirts and shaved that dorky mustache, you'd look good too." You tease him. A wide smile spreads over his face.

"You are something else, Angel." He laughs.

"What did I say about calling me that?" You say, putting your hands on your hips.

"And I already told you, I didn't care. What are you going to do? Pull rank on me again to get me to stop?" He states as his voice drops and octave.

You stand up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Lieutenant Commander?" A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips when you settle back down.

Okay, you were definitely flirting

Rooster cocks his head to the side before settling a hand on your hip and drawing you closer to him. You let out as surprised gasp as you feel the hairs of his mustache prickle against your ear. "Maybe I would. What are you going to do about it?" He breathes out before walking away like nothing happened.

It takes you a minute to reset your brain. You can't believe he just did that.

Oh Gods

You were fucked

...............

Later that night, you stroll down the hallway to your apartment. You fiddle with your key and unlock the door.

"Cerby, Hydra, I'm home!" You call out to your pets. Normally, your dog and cat both rush to greet you at the door, but tonight they don't.

You flick on the hall light and kick off your shoes before calling out to them. They still don't come. Your apartment is quiet—too quiet. You stay still and listen.

You run your right hand over your left forearm and pull out the dagger for your rose and dagger tattoo. The ink materializes into heavy iron and steel in your hand. You hear a commotion in the kitchen.

You stalk silently towards the room, ready to attack whoever is there. You take a deep breath before popping around the corner.

But once you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Minthe?" You ask as you see her standing in your kitchen with Cerby and Hydra.

"Hades, love, I'm so glad you're home! Why don't you take a seat. We need to talk.

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @sometimesanalice @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic

[lucifer-misadventures-au]

Differences between Lilith parenting Charlie and Luci parenting Arthur:

I think the Hazbin Hotel fandom didn't realize or forgot that many parents have their own way of parenting and how it could affect their children and will it affect their lives and mindsets... Characters in shows would be no different, honestly... Though, I think people in the fandom tend to forget that Charlie was raised by Lilith herself and Lucifer isn't often present most of her life. Like Father like daughter? In Luci and Charlie's case? Nah! Not in this blog!

Arthitus Hesper Alister Phoenix Morningstar and Charlotte Lucia Morningstar aren't that close as siblings from the beginning. Arthur was singlehandedly raised by Luci while Charlie was raised by Lilith.

Lilith is one of the big main antagonist of this blog, she's a red flag of a wife and a mother. She has reasons of what she does, and they're not good, from emotionally manipulating Luci into being blindly in love with her to ruling Hell to the worse and worse to the point the realm it's inhabitants are almost unfixable and she did it all by being manipulative and by singing songs like a siren. Lilith raised Charlie herself, She raised Charlie into thinking Heaven is the paradise every human soul could live in peace while it's actually not true, which is the result of Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners and doesn't even bother to look into the possible consequences more, and Lilith also raised Charlie into thinking that singing would express the heart of every soul though, we know for a fact Lilith's singing voice has the power to control sinners and I wouldn't be surprised if Charlie inherited it from her(There's a theory that Charlie unknowingly was controlling her friends but not by minds but by perspective so that they're similar to hers because of how much she sings, yeah, I'm using that theory here). Knowing Charlie, she's really naive and really stubborn about her naivety and idealism... Which gave me a feeling that Charlie hasn't mentally and emotionally matured at her 200 years of living. She thinks everyone everyone including the most evil souls have good in them and they can be redeemed which is entirely untrue. She hasn't realized her dream is not entirely helpful, and that she's unknowingly controlling her friends to backing her up and worse of all... That was a result of Lilith parenting and again she has no good reasons for that matter (We'll go into that next time). So, Lilith's parenting is down right shitty and bad, and worst of all she did that on purpose and felt no remorse for that.

Luci is the main star and protagonist of this blog as this is about some what if scenarios and headcanons and as well as personal theories. Arthur is Luci's first child and he raised him all by himself as Arthur refused to be near Lilith or even let Lilith be near Luci. Arthur may be a cold-hearted aristocratic prince, who's ruthless in battles, and a blunt bastard who can also can be a bit manipulative just to get some information he want but he has a bleeding heart of gold deep down inside who cares about his people, his kingdom and his realm who would do anything to protect and make it a better place. When Luci say he doesn't want his children to end up crushed by naivety, harsh assumptions, and misinterpretation, and idealistic goals, he meant it! He raised Arthur with genuine care, love and most all important life lessons, metaphorically, figuratively and literally which gets more mature as the prince grows up. Luci taught his son his point of view of life and how it should be lived, he also told him stories about his life in heaven, his adventures in hell before he became it's ruler and his family, the good, the bad, the heartbreaking, the infuriating, everything. Luci tells Arthur about his life because he wanted his son to know not to repeat the mistakes he made, and wanted him to carve his own path that it better the one Luci has. By the time Arthur turned 18-21(The Morningstar children stopped aging when they reach early adulthood) he set out his own first adventure with his cousins to explore the outside of the Cities within the Rings Of Hell, it was thrilling yet there are also traumatic events that scarred him and his cousins forever which is one of main reasons for his cold-hearted personality, THOUGH, it was also one of main events of his maturity. Luci was there when Arthur needed him, when he's stressed, when he's sad, when he's burnt out, when he's having panic attacks, Luci was there and there are also times when Arthur returns the favor when his Mama experience the same things. And Arthur is secondary Main Character as he's helping Luci with his goal of making Hell a better place and/or reshaping and reforming it into his own version of heaven and also help his subjects in this newfound society by helping sinners regain some their humanity within deep inside them and help giving Hellborns humanity within their soulless hearts, and Luci's siblings The Seven Deadly Sins are there to pitch in along with their own children as they also rule hell and wanted to establish the same law and rules to their own rings and it them batter places. Luci also wish to make peace with Heaven and maybe help them realize that their status quo and belief were not actually by his father God's word but rather a twisted misinterpretation that could just make things worse... It's a lot but hey! Luci and Arthur are royals so of course their jobs are meant to be a lot! And they're no stopping them! So, in conclusion, Luci's parenting is grade A good parenting! He's a sweet misunderstood soul and will do anything to make sure everyone has their sense of safety and humanity!

Bonus note on Lancelot Morningstar, since he's born and raised by Luci after the divorce it will be no surprises there Luci will raise his youngest baby boy the way he raised his first born baby boi~!

[pact-if]

PACT - IF

updated 8/28/24

DEMO(TBA) | GENERAL PLAYLIST | PINTEREST | RO INTROS

You're finally doing it. You're finally setting out on your Quest, as is tradition. Though it's been a few years since you technically came of age, this rite of passage will settle it into tradition. The trip has been postponed long enough, and you won't let anything distract you!

Until, of course, you come across a strange creature unlike anything you've seen before. And, somehow, bind your souls together.

A soul bond, a pact, can't just be undone. They can fade, sure, but they're never broken. A pact blends the magic, emotion, and even physical traits of its members. Along with adjusting to the webs that now grow between your fingers, there's a pull in your chest you know is from the creature. It wants you to follow it.

What else can you do?

PACT is a light fantasy IF Game focusing on found family and love of all kinds. Design your character (including name, gender/pronouns, and magic specialty) and explore the bonds that form between life, for the smallest of reasons. The only major warning right now is attempted violence against (fantastical) animals.

ROs:

THE RESEARCHER: Vyn (nb, they/them)

A scatterbrained researcher and magizooligist, who is fascinated to see a creature even they don't recognize. Excitable and driven by their unending curiosity, Vyn insists on tagging along on your journey. They're incredibly smart, and have been offered multiple positions at various prestigious institutes... that they've turned down in favor of spending their time staring at bugs. Vyn’s tendency to wander makes them difficult to form a real connection with, something they’ve insisted they’re fine with—but they’d be lying if they said it didn’t get a bit lonely sometimes.

(Vyn is aromantic. They can be "romanced," but not in a traditional sense. You can be friends, queerplatonic partners, or romantic partners. In a romantic route, Vyn is still aro! They're not going to engage with this relationship like an allo person would.)

THE ACADEMIC: Lyra (f, she/her)

The daughter of the prestigious Augusti family was born with very little magical energy, a stark difference from her family. Lyra has been sheltered and kept mostly a secret since birth, both for her protection and the protection of the Augusti legacy. Though a bit late, Lyra is embarking on her Quest to throw off her family name and come into her own identity as a scholar of magical theory. As gentle as she is stubborn, Lyra has spent her life learning the intricacies of magic, and how she can make it work for her.

THE ARTIFICER: Aster (m, he/him)

An engineer specializing in integrating technology and magic. The only thing Aster loves more than machines is his Phoenix companion—his pactmate is the most important thing in the world to him, and the two are so closely bonded they may as well share a soul. Aster is an open book, and exudes the kind of genuine warmth that makes you feel like laughing with friends around a campfire, but the burn scars that cover his left arm point to his fierce dedication and willingness to jump into fire for those he cares about.

THE GUARDIAN: Eilivur (f, she/her)

Born with enough magical energy to make her glow in the dark, but preferring a greatsword, Eilivur found the life of a knight far too restricting for her. Instead, she protects the places that often fall through the cracks. Her very presence is intimidating enough to ward off crime, but the locals know she's the one to turn to when they need food, muscle, or just a shoulder to cry on. Ei isn't the most open of people—basing your identity and sense of self around being a protector doesn’t exactly lend itself to vulnerability—but she's a steady presence for those who need her.

THE GUIDE: Jae (nb, xe/xem)Parents tell their children stories of an old witch in the woods who will eat them if they get lost. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Jae is a guide of the dead, a ranger who has sworn an oath to silence among the living. Xe’s not bothered by the stories, though—the woods are dangerous, and xe has enough passed children coming to them confused. Xe’s very private, and if people find xem unsettling, that just means xe can do xir work in peace.

[happi-tree]

kiss me on the sidewalk (take away the pain)

Taylor’s dealt with enough of this tragic angst bullshit for a lifetime.

So when he hears a large thump behind him and whirls around to see Lincoln Li-Wilson collapsed on the cracked sidewalk and bleeding profusely with no healers in sight, Taylor doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing, because this is not how things are supposed to go.

Or: Lincoln takes a hit for Taylor, and Taylor is left alone to hold his friend together until help arrives.

ao3

Hi, guys, new dndads fic! Wanted to get this one out before the episode drops and just barely made it in time. Enjoy some swiftli hurt/comfort!

Being the main character is not all it’s cracked up to be, sometimes.

Sometimes, you grow up never knowing your dad, but it’s all super cool because he abandoned you erased your memories of him for the plot left to protect you. Just another reason why it makes sense that Taylor Swift is the chosen one.

Well, not the Chosen One, but Taylor and his friends chose this for themselves (since nobody else was getting shit done), and he kind of thinks that’s cooler. 

Anyway. Taylor is the main character of this story (because fuck Normal, real life is anime if he has anything to say about it), and he has plenty of tragedy that enables him to back this theory up. 

Taylor’s nearly died a handful of times - to the point where he’s literally had his head severed from his body. He’s watched his father get cut in half, and most recently, his mom lost nearly her whole arm since he let his arch-nemesis (Willy, that fucker) get too close.

The point is, Taylor’s seen enough jacked-up shit at this point, and he can just feel the way that they’re nearly through with their quest. All that’s left, really, is to put the Big Bad in his place (six feet under, of course) and then they can timeskip to where he and his friends are all older and happy and maybe some of them are dating or married or have kids and they all meet up for dinner and drinks once a month. 

Taylor’s dealt with enough of this tragic angst bullshit for a lifetime. 

So when he hears a large thump behind him and whirls around to see Lincoln Li-Wilson collapsed on the cracked sidewalk and bleeding profusely with no healers in sight, Taylor doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing, because this is not how things are supposed to go. 

Golden strands of magic arc like lightning from Link’s outstretched hand toward one of the two dozen or so Doodlerized assailants that Willy decided to sic on them, and Taylor keeps its phoenix-bright comet-tail in his peripheral vision. 

Just looking at Link’s light directly is enough to blind Taylor, he’s found, sprinting forward with a silent casting of Zephyr Strike as the spell goes wide. 

Heh. Looks like Taylor’s newfound foe is too disoriented to prepare themself. 

With two quick flashes of his blade, another body drops to the ground.

Taylor quickly divests the corpse of its gun and wills his hands to stop shaking as he flicks the safety on and pockets the weapon, turning on his heel and running back for his friend.

“H-hey, you got ‘im,” Link says weakly as Taylor kneels down in front of him. “Good job.”

“Thanks. Fuck,” Taylor says, with feeling, as he wracks his brain for any information from the countless survivalist’s first aid books he’s read over the years and coming up short because there is so much blood. Because there is a veritable puddle of red blooming around Link, and his jersey is absolutely soaked in crimson, and this really, really doesn’t look good. 

Link needs Normal. Sparrow. Some sort of healer. Right fucking now. 

This is bad, this is so, so bad.

“Norm!” Taylor yells, really wishing that he had the Message spell or a goddamn cell phone right now. “We could really use some heals over here, man!”

No response, which is typical, seeing as how Normal and Scary appear to be entangled with fending off their own Doodlerized opponents, and the various father figures and Dood are similarly occupied. They’re also all on the far reaches of the mall parking lot, which is, you know, par for the course at this point.

Of course having a nice, regular time introducing Dood to the concept of the teenage mall hangout would go disastrously wrong. Because clearly it was getting too slice-of-life-y in here. 

Of-fucking-course. 

Link inhales sharply, and Taylor’s attention snaps back to him. Link’s trying to apply pressure to the wound, hands clasped over a spot on his side and desperately attempting to keep the blood inside his body where it belongs. Taylor feels a little nauseous when he realizes his friend’s long fingers are covered in the stuff, partially-coagulated bits of his own gore caking his fingernails, smeared across his knuckles, still leaking through his hands and adding to the dark pool beneath him. The air smells suffocatingly like warm metal. 

Taylor slings his go bag off his shoulder, tears through its contents until he finds a wad of medical gauze (not nearly heavy-duty enough to be effective against this, Taylor really should’ve stocked up on better supplies ages ago when they started this saving-the-world shit, but at least it’s better than nothing), and leans over his friend. “Hey,” he says, voice sharp and clipped in a way Taylor himself hardly recognizes, “let me.”

He pries one of Link’s hands away just enough to fit the whole roll of white fabric, places his hand on top of it, unfolds it a little bit to cover as much of the bullet wound as he can. He presses down hard (perhaps a bit too hard, if the way Link grunts is any indication).

“Sorry,” Taylor mutters, because he is, because it’s all he feels like he’s been saying lately. 

Sorry Willy fucked with your head, Scary. Sorry I didn’t protect you enough, Mom. 

Sorry you’re bleeding out and it’s all my fault because I haven’t been fast enough, smart enough, vigilant enough, anything enough.

“You can move your hands out of the way now, I’ve got it,” Taylor says, attempting to dull the spike-sharpened edge of his voice into something soft and steady with minimal success. 

One of Link’s sticky hands rests limply atop Taylor’s as the other falls to the side, and Taylor kind of wants to throw up.

The hand atop Taylor’s strokes gently across the back of his hand. It leaves a messy streak of red on his paler skin.

“Hey,” Link murmurs, “It’s gonna be okay, right? You’re gonna be okay.”

Taylor’s gaze lifts to Link’s face incredulously because in what world is this okay, and his friend’s eyes - he can’t tell if they’re misting with unshed tears or if they’re fogging over, but something is clouding those honey-syrup irises and neither of the options are good at all.

Taylor presses down a little harder, just to hear Link’s breath hitch again, just to watch the way his vision seems to clear for the briefest of moments.

“Link, stay with me, man,” he commands - though this voice feels too rough and wild and wobbly to carry any sort of authority. “Just stay with me, just hang on, just stay awake, please, I can’t -”

“I will,” Link replies, wheezing a little. “I’ll - ‘ll try my best. C-can I lay down, though?”

“Yeah, dude, of course,” Taylor murmurs, trying to gesture with his head rather than his hands before giving up and saying “Put your head on my lap, okay?”

Link complies, though not without a few awkward adjustments and grunts of pain, and Taylor tries to mentally steel himself for waiting until help arrives.

God. This was supposed to just be a chill day where they could all act their age for once, let their eyes adjust to the yellow-sun-daylight, not have to worry as much about the impending threat looming over their heads.

And now, his best friend is lying atop him, bleeding out, probably minutes away from dying, and Taylor can’t do anything about it. 

It’s not fair, he thinks. This isn’t even the final battle, not even a mini-boss! This is just some monster-of-the-week type of shit and now Link is dying and Taylor feels like something’s deeply broken in him, too, spilling out and slipping through every crack and crevice, gross and ugly and terrifying and they’re not even eighteen yet, not even adults, and Link is so kind and brave and loyal and strong and steady and protective and stupidly, stupidly self-sacrificial, and -

Link’s breathing is far too shallow for Taylor’s liking, or maybe that’s just the sound of his own lungs rapidly filling and deflating in his ears as he tries to think of anything to say to keep his friend awake. 

Taylor’s unmoored, unsteady, adrift without Link by his side, and god, why did he let himself get this attached if all people are ever going to do is leave him, and he doesn’t want Link to die, not when he’s made Taylor’s life better in every conceivable way, and -

Taylor jolts at the feeling of something grimy and sticky and slightly clammy against his cheek. 

He looks down, and Link’s clearly trying to maintain focus through the pain as he wipes some moisture off his face with his thumb.

“Hey,” Link says, soft concern made jagged by the blood attempting to seep through the gauze, between the gaps in Taylor’s fingers.

“Hey,” Taylor repeats back, helplessly, blinking away hot tears as fast as he can because blinking means not looking at Link and, god, he hadn’t even realized he was crying until now. It comes out with a wheeze, like the syllable was punched out of him, and then with a gasp, and then another, and then another, and Taylor can feel his chest constricting and fuck, how is he supposed to be any use to his friend when he can’t even breathe right?

“No, no, no, Tay, don’t - ah - cry for me,” Link says, unsteadily and ragged and so unlike the Link Taylor knows, except it’s exactly like the Link he knows, because providing reassurance is, for some goddamn reason, a priority for him even when he’s bleeding out onto the concrete and asphalt.

Taylor shudders at Link’s touch and his chest heaves as he tries to force air into his lungs, leaning into the hand that still lingers at his cheek and hoping that the wordless (undeserved) gratitude comes across.

Link is cupping the side of his face insistently, fingers brushing gently beneath his eye, up his cheekbone, tucking stringy hair behind the shell of his ear, almost as if he’s trying to memorize as much as he can by feel, immortalize his bone structure and acne scars in his mind before its gears stop turning completely. The thought rips a hole through Taylor’s chest, causes his eyes to well up with moisture and for frustrated, shame-hot rivers to wind down his cheeks.

“You’re… really adorable when you’re all -ah - pouty and frustrated, y’know,” Link says, a hazy, dreamlike quality entering his tone, and oh, no, Taylor does not like what that implies. “Not l-like this, though, I don’t like seeing you cry like this.”

“Well, don’t get yourself hurt like this, asshole!” Taylor snaps back, because really, the nerve of this guy to be dying on him and then complaining about seeing him sad.

“I had to,” Link says, gravely, simply. “I saw that guy take aim at you, and it - ah - was, it was you or me. Easy choice,” He finishes, and he has the absolute audacity to smile the slightest bit, lips turning up at the corners weakly.

“You’re a healer!” Taylor yells, face blotchy with tears and frustration. “You could’ve just healed me! I would’ve been fine!”

Taylor, not for the first time in this adventure, wishes desperately that whatever powers are at play would have granted him some magic that was actually useful, healing and wonderful and holy like Normal’s or Link’s or, hell, even powerful and dark like Scary’s, instead of just cheap party tricks that help him run away and hide.

It’s not fair that Taylor can’t give Link what the other boy has given him many times over. It’s not fair that the world feels like it’s standing still, timed to Link’s uneven breaths, and it’s something that he can’t outrun, can’t make disappear.

“Oh,” Link breathes, “Ha - ah - got me there.” 

Taylor presses his hands firmly against Link’s wound, because he has to be good for this one mundane thing, at the very least, has to be of some use, somehow, sets his jaw and grits his teeth against the shame burning white-hot with infernal hellfire behind his eyes.

“I,” Link croaks, “I didn’t really think about it, then, ah, I just. Moved.” There’s a sound that sounds like a frankly awful mix between a chuckle and a wince, and then he says “Guess you do crazy things when you’re in l-”

He trails off halfway through his sentence, eyes becoming blearily unfocused as he looks to the side.

“Link,” Taylor prompts, because whatever feverish statement Link had been about to make feels important, for some reason.

“Link,” Taylor says again, louder, and is met with no response.

“Hey, Link, Link, Lincoln, come on, this isn’t funny, listen to me, damnit!” Taylor can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, because Link can’t be dead, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

He almost wants to shake him, but he can’t because that would mean taking pressure off the wound and that’s something that Taylor cannot risk when Link’s chest is (thankfully, blessedly) still rising and falling. But maybe not for much longer. 

“I can’t lose you,” Taylor sobs, already past hysterical and bordering on flat-out manic. “Lincoln, please.”

“I - uh,” Link says, kind of unintelligibly, but it’s Link and he’s lucid enough to try to speak and Taylor’s crying even harder out of relief.

“S-orry,” Link manages, turning to look at him, “ah - kinda got lost in thought there. Y’were saying?”

“Fuck you, man,” Taylor hisses, emphatically. “I thought you died!”

“Sorry, just - can I kiss you?” Link asks suddenly, eyes wide.

“What the f- now?” Taylor blurts in response, because truly, where the fuck was this coming from?

Link makes a little laughing sound that turns into a wheeze that’s punctuated by more warm blood spurting against the gauze Taylor is pressing to his friend’s side. 

“We’re married,” Link says as Taylor splutters, rapidly trying to get his mind to wrap around any of this. “It’s not that c-crazy, ah, of an ask.”

“It kind of is when you’re bleeding to death!” Taylor exclaims, his voice heightening to a near-hysterical pitch. 

“You don't - ah - have you if you don’t want to,” Link says in a tone that is probably supposed to be reassuring but absolutely nothing about this situation is remotely close. “I just thought it - it might help. Distract. From the - uh, pain? And I… I kinda miss it.”

Oh. It’d never occurred to Taylor that Link being previously married meant he’s technically kissed someone before. Kissed them often enough, enjoyed it often enough to long for it. 

His stomach twists oddly at the concept. 

Taylor’s never really… thought about what it would be like to kiss someone. Beyond the abstract, of course. He doesn’t even know if he’d like it. 

But, as far as first kisses go, sharing it with his best friend sounds… almost nice, if it weren’t for this entire ordeal. 

And if Link wants this - if it’ll help keep him here, keep him present, give him something to feel beyond the agony he’s surely suffering and keep his mind off the pain - well. Taylor would be a pretty shitty right hand man to deny him that.

“Okay,” Taylor says shakily. 

“Really?” He can’t tear his eyes away from Link’s face - partly because of the strange dichotomy of awe and agony that paint his features, and partly because he’s afraid of looking down and seeing nothing but red. 

“Yeah, if you think it’ll help,” Taylor hears himself respond. “If it’s what you need.”

“It is,” Link says simply. 

If Taylor doesn’t look down at the blood staining them both, he can almost imagine the adrenaline pulsing through his veins is for an entirely different reason. He can imagine Link is in his lap because he wants to be there, and that the hand still resting on his cheek is a sign of affection and not just his best friend desperately clinging to his warmth for comfort, and that the way his eyes are glossed over are from desire and not from excruciating pain. 

“Okay, I’ve, uh, never done this-“ Taylor starts to say, because of course stupid teenage nerves get the better of him when his closest friend is dying in his arms. 

“I’m sure you’ll - ah - you’ll be great,” Link says, features softening briefly before screwing up in pain. 

Okay. Taylor can do this. Link needs him. 

“Just, uh, tap out if you lose too much air, ‘kay? Don’t wanna fuck up your breathing.”

“Mm,” Link hums, straining a bit to lean up toward him. 

Taylor leans in the rest of the way. 

Kissing Link is… well, it isn’t great. The angle is awkward so that Taylor can keep attempting to staunch the bleeding, and his lips are chapped and probably bitten raw from anxious habit, and Taylor can’t really do anything about either of those things. The kiss tastes salty with their sweat and Taylor’s tears and gritty with the grime from the ongoing combat, and Taylor can’t bring himself to close his eyes for fear of Link slipping away.

But he can feel the way Link’s smiling slightly against his mouth, so Taylor guesses he’s doing something right.

The hand that had previously rested on Taylor’s cheek comes around to cradle the nape of his neck, fingers gently tangling in battle-mussed black hair. The action has Taylor making a frankly embarrassing noise high in the back of his throat, and Link’s smile grows as he pulls him in impossibly closer. Taylor is pliant and trusting in his friend’s trembling grasp, letting Link guide them both because the boy beneath him clearly has more experience and Taylor frankly has no idea what he’s doing.

Taylor longs to reciprocate in every way he can, to rest a supporting hand between Link’s shoulder blades, to weave another in Link’s soft-looking curls, to make this kiss better for Link, because Link is good in a way that Taylor can never hope to be and he deserves all the love and affection and passion in the world. 

As it is, though, Taylor has to be content with pressing his palms against blood-soaked gauze and hoping he can make this up to him if they get out of this mess.

He funnels every emotion he can into all of the points where their bodies connect, a swirling concoction of terror and adoration and desperation and loyalty and affection. And there’s more than a little confusion that seeps through, because Taylor hadn’t thought about kissing Link before, but at the present moment, with Link’s full lips moving tenderly against his, it’s suddenly all Taylor can think about. And maybe he’d like to do this again, under better circumstances, to pull Link in close and give back the attention and care and devotion he’s always given him. If Link wanted to, of course. And suddenly, Taylor finds himself hoping that Link would want to, because Link is lovely and protective and kind and awkward and endearing and so, so beautiful, and -

Oh. 

Taylor’s always felt strongly for his best friend, but now, on the cracked curb of a mall parking lot with the sounds of battle fading to a dull roar around them - now, with Link’s blood on his hands and Link’s fingers in his hair and Link’s mouth against his own - Taylor thinks that maybe those feelings run far deeper than he previously thought. 

There’s nothing Taylor can do about the thoughts raging like wildfires in his brain. He can’t run or hide from them if he tried - he can only hold this boy’s life in his hands and stay with him, hoping that he has the strength to do the same. Taylor tries his damndest to speak without words, every insistent press of lips a chorus of stay, I’m not leaving, don’t go where I can’t follow, I need you here, I want you here, stay awake, stay with me, don’t leave, I’m here, stay, stay, stay.

And maybe it’s selfish of Taylor, but it’s true. If he has one more thing ripped out from underneath him, he thinks it might break him. 

Link pulls away, and Taylor lets him. His best friend’s breaths flutter against his skin in uneven pants, and Taylor’s heart beats frantically as he searches his face for any discomfort.

Taylor watches as Link’s eyes open, a soft smile pulling at his lips, and Taylor breathes out a sigh of relief. Link’s hands have migrated to latch around the back of Taylor’s neck and he leans into him, seeking out the comfort of Taylor’s warmth. 

(Taylor’s muscles strain in protest and the near-constant ache in his body intensifies, but he doesn’t mind. Not when it might be the last chance he ever has for Link to lean against him like this.)

“Thanks,” Link says, and his voice is raspy and so, so small, and god, Taylor just wants to hold him close forever, to shield and guard him like Link has always done for him, to ensure nothing like this ever happens again.

Link’s eyes haven’t left his since the moment they broke apart, and while the fogginess in them is a bit worrisome, his dopey little smile is enough to soothe the worst of Taylor’s anxieties.

“I’ve - mm - I’ve wanted to do that. For a while. A long time,” Link murmurs haltingly, still looking at Taylor as if transfixed, as if Taylor’s the only thing that matters, and Taylor feels unanchored from reality.

Who gave his friend the right to look at him like he’s his personal salvation? Who gave him the absolute nerve to only bring this up as he’s actively dying? Was Link just going to hold this inside himself forever, and would Taylor never have known otherwise?

A spark of indignation alights in the hellfire of Taylor’s chest, and he looks down at his friend, watches as Link’s lazy smile fades.

Good.

“What the fuck?” Taylor exclaims, seething more than a little. 

Link hisses a little, flinching, and Taylor quickly attempts to cool the demonic heat seeping through his skin.

“Why didn’t you ask before?” He says, trying to take a bit of the edge off his voice. 

Link looks like he wants to say something, but he moves a little too much and the gauze at Link’s side blooms with even more red, so all that comes out is a small, pained noise.

“You know what?” Taylor says firmly. “It doesn’t matter, because you are so, so stupid.”

Link wheezes in protest, and Taylor shakes his head, furrowing his brows - let me finish.

“When -” Taylor starts, “not if, when - we get out of this, I’m going to kiss the shit out of you for as long as you want. I’m gonna make you forget your own goddamn name if that’s what you want. Got that?”

Link’s eyes are a little less clouded now, and he smiles so wide that his dimples show.

(Taylor decides that he’s going to kiss those later.)

“Mmmm. I’d like that,” Link says, voice soft and fond, and Taylor isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. 

Taylor’s body can’t seem to make up its mind either. Some strangled sort of sound rips itself out of his throat, scratching long claws into his windpipe on the way up, and he blinks away hot tears as fast as he can because even a moment with his vision obscured could be the moment Link falls unconscious and Taylor can’t have that happen. His breaths are loud and fast and there’s static and ringing in his ears and Link looks pained but ultimately concerned for him which is stupid, so, so stupid because Taylor is fine, he’s not the one with a bullet wound gushing blood, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine.

“Hey,” A voice calls from above him, firm yet calm, between gasping breaths like its owner just ran from somewhere, and Taylor nearly leaps out of his skin, cursing himself for not being on guard enough to notice someone was coming, and -

Taylor looks up from Link for just enough to catch a glimpse of hazel eyes framed by heavy dark circles and smudged glasses, then snaps his gaze back down, shaking with some bizarre concoction of relief and adrenaline as he processes things.

They aren’t being attacked, it’s just Normal’s dad (Uncle? No, dad, he’s wearing glasses), Normal’s dad is a Druid, he can heal, someone heard Taylor when he called for help, Link’s going to be okay.

“Mister Oak-Swa- Swoa-” Taylor starts, but he can’t seem to get the words out with how much he’s shaking, mind and heart and mouth stuttering as he tries to get a fucking grip. “He’s hurt,” he finishes pathetically. 

“I can see that,” Normal’s dad says, enunciating each word clearly, barely loud enough to be audible over the din of staticky noise that Taylor’s mind has become. 

Taylor’s hands press a bit harder against Link’s side, and his friend makes a broken sound that might be a wheeze. 

Taylor looks down at his hands, and god, they’re absolutely coated in gore, a red-brown smudge atop his knuckles from where Link had swiped his thumb across them, and the gauze is a horrible shade of maroon, and it’s damp and sticky with blood and it needs to be changed out but it’s all Taylor has, and the world starts to blur at the edges of his vision and it feels like he’s been running for ages with how his chest is heaving even though his legs ache from sitting in this position for so long, and it hurts to look at Link like this, and something twists in Taylor’s gut and everything feels too constricting and there’s so much blood and he can’t breathe and he’s useless and he’s terrified -

“Hey, Taylor,” Normal’s dad says slowly, gently. “Kid, can you look at me?”

Taylor hears the words and he knows what they mean but he just can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away because his best friend’s life is draining out between the cracks in his trembling fingers and Taylor has to keep watching, he has to, because he can barely feel his hands anymore and maybe if he doesn’t look they’ll fall to his sides and Link will die and it will be all Taylor’s fault, and-

“Taylor,” Normal’s dad says, louder, authoritative, and there’s a hand (dry, not sticky with blood) grasping his shoulder and the weight of it wrenches his gaze upward.

“Agh - sorry,” Taylor says, “Sorry, sorry, sorry-”

“No apologies,” Normal’s dad says, searching Taylor’s face for something, his expression softening, and something about the downturn of his mouth and the gleam of his eyes seems deeply sad and tired in a way Taylor can’t possibly hope to examine, not when the blood coating his hands and the tang of warm metal in the air makes him want to be sick.

“Listen,” Normal’s dad says, jaw setting and eyes going flinty again. “Nod when you’re listening.”

Taylor inclines his head shakily, everything too garbled within him to form any sensical words.

“You did a good thing, okay? You did so well. You used all the resources you had at your disposal. You kept Lincoln stable until I could make it here. It’s going to be okay now, and that’s because of you.”

“Y’did good, Tay,” Link mumbles beneath him. Taylor glances down and Link’s smiling weakly up at him, rubbing gently at the base of Taylor’s neck. “‘Ll’be alright.”

“Yes, you will,” Normal’s dad says affirmatively, and Taylor clings to it like a buoy in a vast, tumultuous ocean. 

“Link,” the man says, “Normal’s healed you before, right?”

“Mhm,” Link says, eyes glassy and wide.

“Good. It’s gonna feel a little weird, probably, but you’ll be back on your feet as soon as it’s over. I’m going to touch your shoulder to heal you. Is that okay?”

Link nods, then winces a little.

“Taylor,” Normal’s dad says, “I want the wound to heal properly, so I need you to move your hands.”

“But-” Taylor starts to protest, and his stomach twists violently at the thought.

“I know,” he says, and he has that mournful look in his eyes again. “It’s scary, but I need you to trust me. Okay?”

“S’okay, Tay,” Link mutters. “You can hold my hands, if you want.”

Taylor would rather not tear his hands away from the bloody gauze and open the wound even further, but at the very least he needs to hold onto something. 

“Okay,” Taylor hears himself say. Then, “Now?”

“Now,” Normal’s dad agrees, and there’s a horrible ripping sound as Taylor brings his hands away from Link’s side, the gauze glued to them with congealed blood. 

Link winces, lifting his hands, palm-up, for Taylor to grab. Taylor takes them and squeezes tight, tries to force himself not to think too hard about Link’s shaking breaths or about how cold Link’s hands are even through the dirty gauze. Link screws his eyes shut as their friend’s father rests a grounding hand on his shoulder and inhales deeply, closing his own eyes in concentration.

When his eyes open, they glow a sickly green, iris and pupil and sclera overtaken by the color of luna moth wings. Mesmerizing luminescent magic siphons from beneath freckled skin, cloudy and moonlit as it writhes from the veins on the insides of his wrists, twisting and like the branches of a newly-grown vine, before meeting Link’s skin, seeping into it with a weak sage-silver glow. The open bullet wound at Link’s side becomes overgrown with green magic. Its faint shine spreads like moss over its surface, suturing it closed before fading away, leaving nothing but a slightly paler slash of Link’s skin in its wake.

“How do you feel?” Normal’s dad asks after blinking away the last motes of glowing green.

“Better,” Link says, letting go of one of Taylor’s hands to ghost curious fingers along his new scar. His eyes are bright and lively and not misted over in pain at all. “Feels a little weird to be on the other side of a Cure Wounds, I’ll be honest.”

Normal’s dad grimaces a little in understanding.

“Definitely beats actively dying, though! Thank you, Mister Oak-Swallows-Garcia.”

“Just Sparrow is fine, Boss.”

Taylor barely registers any of this, however, because his eyes are drawn to Link’s scar. It’s barely a pockmark, only a few shades lighter than his deep brown skin, and Link flinches a little against him when Taylor’s free hand brushes against it. It’s such a small mark, but it’s the difference between Link sitting against him, slouched over and tired but wonderfully, beautifully alive, and Link laying in his arms, limp and cold and dead.

Link carefully peels away the gauze still stuck to Taylor’s palm and slots their hands together. Slowly, he interlocks their fingers, runs his thumb along the side of his hand, and Taylor nearly cries at the gesture. 

(Link’s hands are still cold, but that’s normal, Taylor has to remind himself. Link’s always had cold hands, and their hands are clammy and sticky still but it’s okay because Link is squeezing his hand, a silent reminder of I’m here, it’s okay, you can relax, and god, Taylor would be lost without him.)

There’s a shriek of loud static that Taylor is pretty sure isn’t just in his head, and Sparrow sighs.

“Sounds like Dood just spontaneously combusted someone again,” Link observes.

“Yeah,” he agrees, getting up from his crouch and adjusting his glasses. “I’m going to get back out there, see if we can finish this off without any other injuries happening.”

“We’ll come with you,” Link says. Taylor nods, attempting to reassemble his brain into something that can withstand the chaos of the parking lot-turned-battlefield, wanting to get his limbs under him correctly and wincing at the ache, and where the fuck did he leave his cane-

“No, you won’t. You two are out of combat for the rest of the fight. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re an ice cream shop employee,” Taylor mutters. His voice sounds… off, shaky. Is Taylor shaking?

“Field medic’s, then,” he corrects amiably. “You need to focus on recovering.”

“But I’m-”

Sparrow cuts Link off with a pointed look, allowing his eyes to slide over to Taylor before looking at Link again, and there’s something significant about it but Taylor’s brain feels too scrambled to parse any meaning from it.

“Oh,” Link says softly.

“Take care of each other,” Sparrow says, and something about it feels final. “I’ve gotta go make sure your other friends are holding up okay.” 

Taylor watches as Sparrow leaves only in the most distant sense, focusing on clenching his hands against Link’s and feeling the sensation of his friend squeezing back.

“Taylor,” Link starts, and his gaze darts up from their clasped hands (still bloodstained, bits starting to flake off in pieces like peeled paint or grotesque confetti, warm against cold, alive alive, alive) to look at him. He looks so concerned - over him, again, Taylor realizes. “I’m alive. It’s okay. You saved me.”

He punctuates this with a light squeeze to both of Taylor’s hands, and combined with the warmth of his gaze (his eyes had been so horribly cloudy before, and Taylor had almost lost him) and his steady voice (he had been slurring his words, choking on them, near-delirious, and Taylor had almost lost him) and the slight, hopeful upturn of his lips (near-identical to the small, weak smile he wore as Taylor kissed him, and he almost lost him) something in Taylor shatters.

“C’mere,” Link says, sitting up a bit straighter and opening his arms, and Taylor all but launches himself into them, hands scrabbling to find purchase on Link’s shoulders, fisting in the grimy fabric of his athletic shirt as he presses his face into his friend’s chest.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, it’s okay, you can let it out,” Link soothes, rubbing circles into the back of Taylor’s shirt with his thumbs, and it only makes Taylor cry harder.

You nearly died, Taylor thinks frantically, breaths coming as rapid as the frenzy of his thoughts. You nearly died and I couldn’t do anything about it and I was so useless and pathetic and terrified of losing you and -

“Oh, Taylor,” Link says in between Taylor’s sobs. “Tay, honey, you gotta breathe, okay? Breathe with me, just listen and try to copy me, alright?”

Taylor tries to nod, but with the strength of the tremors that are running through him, it probably doesn’t come across. 

Link’s hand comes up to cup the back of Taylor’s head, guiding him to rest with an ear to his chest. Link’s lungs steadily expand and deflate, a consistent rising-falling pattern, and just below Taylor’s ear, his heartbeat pulses, strong and confident.

Taylor thinks about the way Link had barely been able to breathe properly through the pain and his vision blurs with tears again, the periphery growing dark, and Taylor’s breaths feel like they’re being punched out of him, leaving him floundering and weak and aching and miserable.

“Link,” Taylor gasps, wave after wave of sobs wracking his body.

His best friend holds him through it all, offering reassurances in between measured, exaggerated breaths.

“I’m okay,” he says. Breathe in. “We’re okay.” Breathe out. “You’re not gonna lose me.” In. “I’m not going anywhere.” Out. “You were so brave, I’m here, we’re gonna be okay.” In, out, in, out.

Fingers card gently through his hair as Link presses a gentle kiss to the top of Taylor’s head, and Taylor lets himself fall apart.

-

Taylor can’t tell how long he sits there in the circle of Link’s arms, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the way he breathes. He’s lost time before, but it scares him to think how much he might have missed, especially since they’re still technically on the fringes of an active battleground.

Eventually, though, his breaths even out and the last of his tears dry up, leaving his face a puffy, snotty, splotchy mess.

They sit quietly for a few moments, Link still combing gentle fingers through greasy hair with one hand and tracing meaningless shapes into the center of his back with the other, humming soothingly every now and then. 

Taylor pulls away first, wiping below his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Got it all out?” Link asks, and Taylor finds no trace of pity in his voice or expression, only gentleness and concern, and it makes him want to cry again but from the dryness of his eyes Taylor knows there aren’t any tears left.

“Yeah,” Taylor sniffles pathetically, opting to hide his face in Link’s shoulder.

Before he can, though, Link carefully takes Taylor’s face in his hands, thumbing away mostly-dry tears. He leans in, brows drawn together as if he’s concentrating on something, and presses a soft kiss to the top of his nose bridge, just between his eyes. Gold and saffron bloom behind Taylor’s closed eyelids, and the stuffiness and congestion fades away a little.

“Better?” Link asks.

“If you almost die like that again, I’m revoking your kiss privileges,” He huffs in lieu of a response. 

“Kiss privileges?” Link echoes, raising an eyebrow.

“Typical,” Taylor gripes with no real heat. “You really had the audacity to make me realize I want you as you’re fucking dying, and you aren’t even taking my threat seriously.”

Link’s eyes go comically wide. “You want me?”

Oh. “I said that out loud, didn’t I,” Taylor says.

“Yeah, you, uh, did,” Link replies. “I thought I had made that up. Like a fever dream, or something. Um, wow. Are… do you really..?” 

Link looks so incredibly flustered, and it’s unbearably cute.

Fuck it, Taylor thinks, and he leans further into Link, bringing a hand to rest on his shoulder as he presses a chaste kiss to his friend’s lips. 

Taylor backs away, sitting in Link’s lap as he looks up at him through his lashes. “Does that answer your question?”

“Uh, not really?” Link responds, earnest and awkward and sweet. And then a shy smile pulls at his lips. “Maybe,” he says quietly, “if you try that again, I might get it.”

Holy fuck, Taylor thinks, eyes drawn from the quirk of Link’s brows to the smirking curve of his mouth.

“Okay,” Taylor says, splaying a hand between Link’s shoulder blades the way he had wanted to earlier, running another hand through Link’s hair and dragging him down to seal their lips together again. 

It feels much better to kiss his friend this way, finally able to hold him and treat him with the affection he deserves and be held in return. It’s unhurried, burnt-out adrenaline leaving him pliant and tired, and the sheer relief of it all has Taylor breaking the kiss to laugh hysterically, breathlessly against his lips. Of course it would take something this stupidly, horribly dramatic to get Taylor to realize what he almost lost.

Link softly laughs in response, and he rests their foreheads together as they attempt to control their giggling.

Taylor opens his eyes to see Link grinning with all his teeth, sunny and bright, his cheeks dimpling from the force of it, and Taylor ducks into his space quickly to place a tiny, fluttering kiss in each divot . Something warm and possessive makes its home in his chest, curling between his ribs, brighter than the solstice-hot flames of hell.

Mine, Taylor thinks, the word doing little to encapsulate everything he feels about the boy in front of him. I’m never letting anything take you away from me ever again.

He pulls away, and Link is looking at him like he’s personally placed the sun in the sky (well, they both helped with that, technically), like he’s someone worthy of being adored, and Taylor feels like he could collapse under the weight of his gaze.

He settles for falling wordlessly into Link’s arms again, and the breath is briefly knocked out of Link’s chest, but his arms come to circle around him, safe and protective and secure and wonderful. Taylor listens to the thrum of his best friend’s pulse with an ear to the side of his neck as Link rests his cheek atop his head, murmuring reassurances and praise in equal measure.

Taylor just barely hears footsteps approaching their spot on the curb of the sidewalk - he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all, wrung-out as he is, if not for the way Link tenses around him, holding him a little closer as his head lifts from atop his own.

“H-hey, um,” Scary calls - and Taylor knows it’s Scary, recognizes the timbre of her voice, but the pitch of sounds more uncertain than Taylor’s ever known - almost like she’s afraid to speak.

“It’s just us, Normal and Scary,” Norm’s reedy voice adds with that same unsure edge. “The fight’s over, you’re okay, man.”

Link relaxes a bit around Taylor in relief, and Taylor glances up to see him blinking sheepishly at their friends.

“No casualties?” Link asks. Taylor just hums, sinking further into his arms, too exhausted from the whirlwind of adrenaline and emotions to do anything other than listen.

“Not on our side,” Scary confirms. “Dood exploded some guys, though.”

“I exploded some guys!” Dood chirps happily.

“Are you guys sure you’re okay?” Normal prods, voice tinged with worry. “My dad told us what happened. I’m glad he could make it in time, but I think I have a little more juice left if something needs healing.”

“I’m good. Uh, physically, at least,” Link says. “Tay?” he prompts, giving Taylor a nudge.

“M’fine,” he responds without lifting his head from Link’s shoulder, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “Achy. Sleepy. M’fine.”

“Okay,” Norm says, and Taylor can hear the uncertain frown in his voice.

“We should get out of here before what’s left of the police finds us,” Scary says. “Ugh, this fucking sucks. This mall had a Hot Topic.” The I’m never coming here again goes unsaid, but Taylor, as tired as he is, finds himself nodding with the sentiment.

“I agree,” Link says, shifting a little around Taylor, and Taylor clings to him tighter, refusing to let go. “Hey, hey, I’m staying with you,” Link mutters to him. 

The others blessedly don’t react when Link kisses the top of his head - or if they do, they don’t say anything.

“Did anyone find Taylor’s cane anywhere, or?” Link asks, then sighs at the silent answer.

“Okay, we’ll find that later,” he says, then, to Taylor, “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?”

Taylor nods, arranging his arms sluggishly to lock around Link’s neck and his his legs shakily straddle Link’s stomach.

“Okay, up we go,” Link mutters, and gets to his feet a little unsteady, helped up by someone (Norm, Taylor guesses) while his other arm supports Taylor’s legs.

“Thanks,” Taylor mumbles.

“Thank you,” Link responds, though to Normal or to Taylor, he isn’t sure. Probably to both of them. “That really took a lot out of you, huh?” he asks quietly.

Taylor hums an affirmative.

“Well, it’s okay now. You got me, and I’m not going anywhere, ‘kay?”

Another hum. “Mmkay.”

“It’s okay if you wanna fall asleep on me,” Link says, ever the angel, back from the dead and whole and strong and lovely, and Taylor nods against his shoulder, puffy eyelids already closed, sniffling once. “You can rest now, I’ll watch over you.”

Taylor doesn’t want to sleep, not really, not when he just got Link back and could just as easily lose him again, but the soothing vibrations of his voice from where Taylor’s head rests against his neck and the secure arms around him and the steady cadence of his strides ease enough of his anxieties that he feels himself starting to slip into unconsciousness regardless.

After he wakes and they’re all safe, Taylor will ask Sparrow or maybe Normal about learning Cure Wounds (it’s a spell that Rangers can cast, after all), and Taylor and Link will have a long talk about what all of this means for them, and Taylor will finally make good on his promise of kissing Link until he can’t remember anything else.

For now, though, Taylor smiles weakly as Link ducks to press another kiss into his hair and drops into slumber in his friend’s protective hold.

[lazywolfwiccan]

Name: Austin Theory

Age: 23

Car: Black and white truck with underglow

Crew: The Phoenix Force

Physical Appearance: Austin is tall with muscles and short dark blond hair. He has a tattoo of Ava's name over his heart.

Relationships:

Damian Priest: On and off lover. Damian and Austin regularly exchange info on each other, though Austin likes being touched more than actually saying anything.

Seth Rollins: Austin's adoptive father, Austin is his right hand man and doesn't mind Austin's games with Damian.

Ava Grace: Austin's adoptive sister and best friend. He is protective over her and acts as her bodyguard if need be

Kit Wilson and Elton Prince: Austin's adoptive brothers who are new to the crew and drive Austin crazy.

Randy Orton: Austin's biological father who he hates for abusing him and his mother.

Victoria Varon: Austin's biological mother who he is close with, she runs a bar downtown that Austin frequently visits

Trivia:

His favorite song is Ruler and the Killer by Kid Cudi

He drinks too much coffee

He's wanted for at least twelve counts of grand theft auto

He almost never wears a shirt with his frequent outfit of ripped black jeans, boots and a leather jacket though he sometimes wears a tank top

He once hooked up with Cody Rhodes, both agreed to pretend it never happened

[nana1000night]

Childhood Friend

Summary: Your mother and Lily Potter is friends and you two are neighbours. So you and Harry Potter met in your 5-year-old.

Warnings: Change the fact, settings, So don't like don't read. There's a world that Tom Riddle became a politician who supports the Blood Purity Priority Theory. Until Dumbledore lead the whole Order of the Phoenix members and other people's help to against them. The theory died down in 1980s.

After Tom Riddle led the most of Pure-blood family and supported the pure-blood theory, the whole wizard world had a period of time that banned the half-bloods or muggle-borns stay in the wizarding world. And they also forbid the Pure-blood family to marry the other two bloodlines. They tried to ban the other two bloodlines enter the Hogwarts, but Hogwarts refused.

But when times moved to the 1970s, Potter Family, Weasley Family, and some families started leading the muggle-borns and some half-bloods to rebel against the unreasonable laws. The theory weaken and faded into the river of history after Voldemort, aka Tom Riddle's death. He was dead on 1980.7.31. The same day as Harry's birthday.

Now, the whole wizard world still thinks Harry is 'The chosen one'... But you think Harry is Harry. Your sweet and cutie neighbor.

You met when you were 5 years old. After some consideration, your mother divorced your muggle father and took you and your twin sister Willa with her, and moved to a block near the Potter Manor, your mother and Lily Potter are friends since they were in Hogwarts, so Lily would bring Harry came to visit you. 

Soon, Harry became your and your sis’s new friend. But they all could tell that Harry was your company when Willa didn’t with you.

Your personality traits are kind and shy, and sort of selfish. You’d help other people but you’d make sure that you and your friends or families are safe first. You’d share your things but only if you make sure Harry and Willa both had the things.

But not everyone knew the truth because you and your twin sister love to play a game to let strangers mistake the twins for the other one.  Sirius Black is one of the victims so now Sirius would just call you two ‘Twila’.

The adults are just happy to see you and Harry playing well and you will protect each other. Willa isn’t that intimate with Harry, if you’re not with her, she usually just has some dialogue conversations with Harry, then they would focus on their own minds.

The first time Harry showed his magic ability was to save you, that’s a rainy day, and your mother and Lily decided to take you to Diagon Alley to buy some clothes and treat you to three ice creams.

However, when your mother brought Willa to enter the ice cream shop, you slipped on the cobblestone road.

“Nana!” Just when you nearly hit the ground, you found yourself floating and you land safely. Harry reached his hand out to you, and Lily widen her beautiful emerald eyes.

“Oh my! Did you get hurt, Nana?” You shook your head After she checked you were fine, she turned to her son.

“Harry, did you just…levitate her?” Harry blinked and shook his head.

“I don’t know, mama. I was scared, then Nana didn’t fall down, she’s flying!”

Harry’s eyes were sparkling.

“What’s wrong here, Lily?” Your mother and Willa brought some ice creams back.

Lily told your mother what just happened, “I think Harry just used his magic without notice.”

The two women led you back to your house, and they stared at that you and Harry shared the ice cream while Willa just sat next to you and listened carefully also enjoying her mint chocolate ice cream.

The two adults decided it was time to have an eye on Harry if you enter primary school.

The first time Harry showed his possessiveness towards you is when you were  9.

It’s the day when you three were playing at the park, Remus and Sirius agreed to take care of you three, so they were sitting not far from watching you. But a boy suddenly appeared and said that he wanted to join you, he sat across from you and rudely demanded Harry share his toys.

All you three frowned and you pouted, soon or later, the boy whined that he want to change the game and try to grab your hand. But Harry stood between you and the boy and shook his head.

“We’re too tired to play with you, and who are you actually? Can you find someone else to play with you?”

The boy’s face redden and he started screaming, “ No! I want her to play with me! Give away!”

The boy is stronger than Harry, but Harry seems didn’t scare of him, he just stares at him calmly.

“Dully!” You all heard a woman scream a name, then a thin woman ran to you.

“Aww, do you get hurt? My baby Dully, who bullies you? Tell mama and I would…”

Before the woman finished her speech, you and Willa dragged Harry and ran back to Sirius and Remus.

“Sirius!” You and Harry yelled while Willa called Remus’s name.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“There’s a boy trying to take Nana away and forcing her to play with him, then there’s a woman showed up. I think that’s his mother.” Harry pointed in a direction, then the two men saw a woman holding a boy and walking towards them.

“Oh no! I don’t want to deal with this situation, do you think we should head back?” Sirius whispered to Remus

“Well, I think we need to go.”

Then, Sirius picked Nana and Harry up with their waist while Remus cradled Willa up.

Remus used the confusion spells so no one could notice they disappeared in seconds.

When they finally back home safely, Harry was cling to Nana and refused to leave her.

Both the men raised their eyebrows and changed their glances

“Well, he’s a Potter. But I still think that would be too early.” Sirius teased “I would protect you from all the other bad boys, Nana. I’m your prince.”

They heard Harry say, and Nana just nod her head and kisses his cheek. ⸺The habit when Nana saw her mother kissing her husband’s cheek accidentally and the couple convinced you to believe that’s a polite kiss to express your appreciation.

“We better pretend to not see that and tell Twila’s mother, or she’ll kill us and ban Harry close to her daughters.” Remus said

The godfathers told the other adults what happened today, but the mothers just squealed.

“I think it’s too early to say Harry like Nana, but I won’t be against that if they really became a couple.” Your mother said

“I think so too, but one is could be sure at least, my Harry is a good boy and he’d try to protect Nana! So adorable!!”

No one took the event seriously, and two years just flies away…

[mejomonster]

Also I played the ff16 demo and vaguely worded SPOILERS

I liked Joshua a lot. I got hype I could play him. Yoko Taro games make me quite fond of cute boy main characters (Emil, Nier, 9S) and I know like generally in the genre people like Tough Cool Men as leads in games not cute short anime boys.

So I figured playing Joshua was a fun rare thing. I figured I'd play the older brother big tough soldier cause 1. Obviously (he's the main character) 2. He's the obvious game lead choice. 3. Very few games anyway are going to give me a cute short guy protagonist (outside of Link, or a Nier game, or Kingdom Hearts I guess since Sora is technically the tiny cute weaker guy compared to Buff Riku best friend... and kingdom hearts is probably why I expect and desire to play the cute more relatable shorter dude... and cloud another Nomura design definitely contributes to expecting that lol).

I also figured. Cute younger brother? I've played jrpgs before. Giant chance this kid would die or go missing or be kidnapped and become the emotional motivation for Clive. Just like Riku (the bigger older stronger best friend in Kingdom Hearts) is motivated greatly to protect Sora (who's Joshua's equivlaent), and how Kairi (smaller and weaker than Sora) is used as part of Soras motivation. Or in Nier Replicant, how niers smaller younger sister being ill and needing protecting is used as his motivation (And Nier Replicant comments on a lot of typical fantasy gamr tropes). So I figured: aww man. I love Joshua, he's probably getting ripped away from me :c i know how this goes. (I am however VERY happy ff16 gives you time to care about Joshua. Ff15 has lunafreya be the weaker etc motivation for Noctis, and you don't see lunafreya much at start of game... which makes the motivation less meaningful or important to the player. Seeing Joshua and playing him at the start help a lot to make a player CARE the way Clive cares. Same how in Kingdom Hearts, playing the destiny island bits gives you a reason to care about Sora losing his friends as he cares).

I also perhaps dreaded. I've played The World Ends With You. Joshua is um. Quite the character in that game. Without spoiling, its safe to say if I see the name Joshua in a square enix game now I get very suspicious and notice that character will probably be significant.

SPOILERS

Anyway I. I am torn between hoping the rest of ff16 has more Joshua, or it doesn't. Either way, strong initial choice and good set up for me to care about Clive. I selfishly want more Joshua cause I like playing Emil like characters, 9S like characters, and always want more

The whole guy in tan hood who mouths something? I got flashes to ff10 and I'm dreading in a good way lol. I was like?? Time traveling Joshua? Clive seeing himself in 3rd person cause he snapped? Joshua's soul inside Clive so we are STILL somehow playing both of them moving forward (if Clive ever turns into a phoenix I'll lean toward this theory)? A literal weird talking phantom situation a la ff10 which could bode FANTASTIC if the ff16 plot can commit to whatever wild plot it decides on and fully execute it.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hi! i saw you did mashups on your blog and i was wondering if i could get one for x-men/lord of the rings?

im 20yrs old, my names phoenix, im 5'0 and have smaller green eyes and bright ginger hair, and i love few things in this world as much as toast and david bowie.

{some} of my favorite things are;

the color blue, stars/moons,classic lit, tea, spiderman anddd 90s movies<3

{some} things i hate aree; a court of thorns and roses, ppl who mock taylor swift andd bigots [i dont hate most things lol]

im pretty shy but when i get talking i dont shut up and can get bored quite easliy, i could talk for hours about starwars and i have a super protective baby sister who i love to pieces<3

hope this isnt to much idk how these things work- have a perfectly lovley day!

Heyy!! Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! The info you have presented to me is excellent, don't worry! (Love your name btw) I hope you enjoy the matchup!! Thanks again! <333

X-Men;

Hank McCoy:

💙 You met Hank when you became the new music teacher at Professor X's mansion for Gifted Youngsters, (your 'superpowers' as you call them, are amazing, you can mentally manipulate the energy generated by stars as well as their electromagnetic, gravitational, radiation and cosmic energies)

💙 Hank, being the science professor, you had passed each other in the halls many times when you went to a from classes; you, as a music professor, and sometimes English substitute, help kids with music theory and how to read notes, and some days you show the kids' different music genres and just jam out all together

💙 You and Hank began to talk more and more, being co-workers and all, it was a bit awkward and slow in the beginning on both of your parts, Hank was almost as shy as you when it came to you first talking, but she got used to you and vise versa, and both of you became quick friends

💙 When he didn't have classes to teach, Hank would visit you during classes, watching you with the kids and sometimes joining in and nervously trying to play the violin; after a couple of weeks though, Hank asked if you wanted to join him for tea

💙 You both made tea in the kitchen, laughing and making jokes as you both then left and walked around the gardens of the mansion outside; Hank loved how much you cared about your favorite topics and interests, like David Bowie, Spiderman, and 90's movies

💙 Hank was a bit worried originally when he began talking to you, that you'd be afraid of him after he fully turned into the Beast, so he tried his best to avoid you, but you found him and Hank was scared, he really liked you; you reassured him that you'd like him no matter what, (along with telling him that your favorite color was blue)

💙 You began dating not long after, and you two would spend a lot of time together when you both weren't working or fighting baddies, watching the stars on a balcony in the mansion, reading together in the library by the fire, or just cuddling while music softly played in the background; it was nice, dream-like, perfect

💙 Hank finds you captivating, from your green eyes to your bright ginger hair, and he was fascinated by your love of Star Wars, admiring you as you ranted on and on about your favorite plots and characters, you were so amazing

💙 You found yourself falling more and more in love with Hank, finding him extremely sweet, caring, funny... You were so impressed by his intelligence, and how his brain worked, often times you'd just watch him in the lab, just watching the gears in his head turn

💙 You two were inseparable, two peas in a pod, you two understood each other so perfectly; you never thought you'd find someone like Hank, and you were so happy that you did

--

Lord Of The Rings;

Legolas Greenleaf:

🏹 You were part of the Fellowship, having an incredible talent for reading maps and following stars, you met Legolas the very same day the Fellowship banded together

🏹 You found him attractive, tall, and pretty funny with his slightly snarky comments, but it took you a while until you finally spoke to him

🏹 When you did speak to each other, you brought up that you both used a bow and arrow to fight orcs and whatnot, Legolas actually gave you a few tips and even taught you how to shoot two arrows at once

🏹 Legolas found you strikingly beautiful when he first laid his eyes on you, your bright hair immediately caught his blue eyes and he loved how much you loved the stars and moon, along with music in general; he'd find you humming sometimes when you and the rest of the Fellowship were walking

🏹 When the two of you grew closer as friends, you and Legolas would watch the stars and stargaze when you were both on night watch, talking about the stars and their constellations, along with some stories from your lives

🏹 After walking for a good hour, you found yourself getting terribly bored, wanting to stimulate your brain in some way, you began to collect flowers while walking, humming as you began to intertwine the stems together; making a flower crown out of wildflowers

🏹 After making the first flower crown, you made another, placing the first on your head before rushing up to toss the second flower crown on Legolas's head; Legolas loved the crown, his cheeks red as you admired how the bright yellow and blue flowers brought you his hair and eyes

🏹 As the feelings for each other began to grow, you and Legolas both confessed to each other once you both found yourselves in Lothlórien

🏹 Legolas became pretty protective of you, reminding you of your younger sister, making sure that you were alright after every orc attack, which you found adorable and sweet

🏹 You and Legolas were the perfect match, bringing out the best in each other as well as loving every single moment you both spent with one another; life was idyllic and wonderful, and you couldn't wait for the future

[theguardianace]

Ask game ^-^

📖 what is your favorite event story?

🎞 what is your favorite mv?

tumblr has eaten this ask like three times sorry it took so long to answer

also i have a lot of faves so this is all going under the cut. warning this is a long post. a very long post in fact.

📖 What is your favorite event story?

I think my ultimate favorite has to be Wonder Magical Showtime. It's the finale to Wonderlands x Showtime's first arc and beautifully showcases all of the growth and bonds they've created since their beginning.

I'm not sure how much I've told you about WxS, so I'll try and give as broad of a summary as I can! Wonderlands x Showtime is a theater troupe who performs shows at a local amusement park, Phoenix Wonderland. Tenma Tsukasa is the troupe leader who dreams of becoming a "world future star". He used to be wholly focused on that star aspect and super selfish and arrogant, but because of WxS, he remembered his dream truly stemmed from a desire to make others smile through shows, particularly his frequently hospitalized younger sister. Otori Emu is the bubbly granddaughter of the person who first built Phoenix Wonderland and treasures the park dearly. After the passing of her grandfather, she vowed to protect the original image of the park, one where any person regardless of age, gender, or language could be happy. She is especially protective of the Wonder Stage. Kusanagi Nene is a shy singer who quit performing after a failed performance. Her childhood friend Rui brought her back to the stage and built a robot she could perform behind. WxS gave her the confidence to perform on her own again. Rui is their stage director/technician/genius. He has always been a loner due to his weird and ambitious personality, but Wonderlands x Showtime gave him a place that not only accepts his eccentricity, but embraces it.

Prior to Wonder Magical Showtime, the newly established WxS has been participating in Phoenix Wonderland's show contest. All the stages in the park were competing for a chance to appear in a commercial promoting the park. Despite being a smaller stage, WxS ended up in second before the last stage. However, the park still wasn't doing well financially. They were struggling to sell more tickets. Emu's brothers decided to begin a plan restarting the whole park with licensed characters to attract a younger crowd. Emu opposed this as it would destroy her beloved grandfather's dreams. Wonderlands x Showtime decided to sacrifice their ambitions of wining the show contest in order to save the park and most importantly help Emu.

Rui devised a play utilizing the whole park as a stage to bring wonder to the existing attractions. It was a fantastic play in theory, but it was proving hard to convince the other stages to join in their rebellion. Through the assistance of the diva of the Phoenix Stage, the biggest stage in the park, they managed to win over the whole park. The game was on.

The sun was setting on Phoenix Wonderland the day of the last show contest, as well as the day the licensing partner came to visit the park. Suddenly, a voice over the loudspeaker called for the whole park to assemble in front of the NeoPhoenix Castle, an attraction in the center of the park. The show was about to start. It followed the story of Miles (Tsukasa), a powerful sorcerer, and his apprentice Xiao (Emu) as they traveled a war-torn land. Miles met various victims of the war and granted their wishes, creating structures (park attractions) that would light up with the flick of a wrist. He brought happiness wherever he went, no matter how big or small. Xiao was frustrated, though. She was supposed to be learning magic, not party tricks!

Time passed, and Miles grew old. Before his passing, he tells Xiao that magic doesn't create smiles, smiles create magic. Then he dies and the whole park goes dark. Xiao calls to the audience for their support. She doesn't believe she can do magic yet, but maybe with the help of the audience she could! When the audience raised their wrists, the bracelets Rui and Robonene handed out as guests arrived glowed brightly, creating a sea of light. Xiao used the strength from the audience to relight the whole park. The Virtual Singers appeared to release the audience back to the park and have some nighttime fun!

The show ended up being a bigger success than they could have ever imagined. Not only did the crowd there have a new connection to each ride there, but so did viewers online! The ending of the show was recorded and went viral online, drawing in thousands of new guests. Wonderlands x Showtime was technically in trouble for their mutiny, but things can be forgiven for moments like this. The show contest may have never concluded, but Wonderlands x Showtime was named Promotional Ambassadors instead.

ok now for my personal takes. JFKSDJFKLSDJL:FKJS i love them so. much. tsukasa's whole dream was to win that show contest and finally get a chance to be a recognized star, but he sacrificed it all for his troupe. and it paid off! The show's success brought their troupe more than a commercial ever could. Even though this event is over a year and a half old now, current events still mention this show. Other units comment on it from time to time, and other actors WxS have worked with have brought it up! Emu learned she can still dream because she has her friends beside her to make them real. She doesn't have to hide her pain behind her smile, either. it's ok to be sad and it's ok to show that. nene gained so much confidence this arc it's insane. she went from not being able to even stand on a stage in practice to teaching complete strangers tips on singing and performing in front of the whole park. and rui. my little man. his show was incredible. he may not have had the spotlight, but without him, this whole thing would have never happened. im so proud.

just look at them. they deserve the world.

ok honorary mentions to some events though because there are so many good ones

It's On! Wonder Halloween! was the event that really got me hooked on the game and established Rui as my favorite character. The first show Wonderlands x Showtime did for the show contest was a Halloween themed one. During practice, Rui asked Tsukasa to climb a ladder while chased by a zombie robot he built. The robot malfunctioned, and Tsukasa was dragged off and passed out (he was fine though thankfully). Rui felt horrible. He had been alone for so long because people were scared of his directions. He wanted to create intense shows with effects that would draw the audience in, but often times people would think he went to far. He always made sure his stunts were safe, of course, but nobody ever believed him. Tsukasa's accident caused Rui to start holding back. After a few arguments with Tsukasa, Rui realized he was doing this because he feared if he went too far he would lose the only home he had ever had. With a bit of reassurance, the unapolagetic, unhinged, free Kamishiro Rui was back and better than ever. (the scene where he finally lets go again... my god he sounds insane but so incredibly happy)

Nocturne Interlude is amazing, too! It's not a Wonderlands x Showtime event so there are different characters. You only need to know two though. Aoyagi Toya grew up a classical musician. His father was a famous pianist, so he would force Toya to play violin and piano instead of having a childhood. As a teenager, Toya decided to defy his father and start singing street music, where he met Shinonome Akito. Akito is a passionate, strong-willed singer who dreams of surpassing a legendary street music event (a concert pretty much), RAD WEEKEND. Akito decided to team up with Toya and form BAD DOGS, which later joined forces with two girls with the same dream (and sekai) to form VIVID BAD Squad. One night after a gig, someone comes up to VBS and compliments the group. He then makes Toya realize his classical past was still holding his soul hostage. Despite how far he'd come, his father still had a grip on his mentality. Through the help of Akito, Toya finds a way to connect to his father by acknowledging their shared love of music, but strengthens his own resolve to walk down the path of street music, the path he chose for himself. He let go of trying to win his father's acceptance and accepted himself. toya did this so beautifully he is such a pure and special little guy. me and akito are going to break toyas father in half like a pencil because he sucks and i hate him.

I mentioned the events of Smile of a Dreamer already since it's the precursor to Wonder Magical Showtime, but that one is so special too! It's Emu learning that she doesn't need to supress her negative emotions and that it's ok to feel. She starts crying on the ferris wheel when WxS confronts her and offers their support. I love her.

Oh the Island Panic! event is so fun too! Lowkey kind of funny but it follows one of Nightcord's most powerful events where Mafuyu (who wore a perfect straight a mommy's girl mask for so long she lost her entire identity and ability to feel at all) had a panic attack over the discovery of her synthesizer (music is her lifeline) and skipped an exam and lied about it. and then wonderlands x showtime got shipwrecked on a freaking island the next week. tonal whiplash but it was ok this event was silly. wxs had to find a way to survive until help came so they ventured into the forest? chaos ensued. they made a four person piggy back to get some bananas because rui won't eat veggies and then some monkeys stole them??? and then they chased the monkeys??? and then they realized the monkeys just want to play and befriended them???????? and then they made a base camp which was half practical half rui building a sundial for no reason. and then they had a talk over the campfire and realized that wonderlands x showtime has an expiration date. they all won't be in high school forever. they have dreams and ambitions that will eventually take them away from the wonder stage. and then i started sobbing.

similar note. Rui's latest event. A Sorrowful Farewell at Curtain Call. The last promotional show WxS did was a collaboration with a famous troupe from another park, Arkland. Their lead actor, Asahi, was a huge fan of Project Wonder (!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO as he should be) (oh that's the show from Wonder Magical Showtime). He took a special interest in Rui. Asahi loved the ambitious yet strange way Rui directed the stage. He privately offered Rui a spot as the director of his troupe. In theory, this would be a perfect opportunity for Rui to reach his dreams. Both he and Arkland's dreams involved creating shows that connect people across borders. He would be accepted for who he is there, too. However, the thought of leaving WxS causes him actual physical pain. Rui doesnt answer right away. The show was a huge success. Rui absolutely loved it. It was about two robots, one of which was captured as a war machine and the other escaped to a farm village. The two robots cross paths and fight. Despite their identical coding, the locations they were raised in changed who they were fundamentally. The farmland robot won, but through the empathy it learned, it decided to revive it's brother and teach it how to love, too. it was a beautiful show about support and love and circumstances. AND THEN! THIS IDIOT! THE GUY WHOS DREAM OF CONNECTION THAT LIKELY STEMS FROM HIS OWN DESIRE TO CONNECT WITH SOMEONE ELSE! WHO FOUND A HOME IN WONDERLANDS X SHOWTIME! WHO FORMED AN UNBREAKABLE BOND WITH THEM! WHO LOVED THEM AND TREASURED THEM! WHO'S FEELINGS CREATED A WORLD BASED ON THE SENTIMENT OF "IF IT'S THEM, THERE IS NOTHING WE CANNOT DO". DECIDED TO ACCEPT ASAHI'S OFFER AND LEAVE THE WONDER STAGE. thank god asahi had the braincell then. rui looked so depressed saying this that asahi rescinded his offer. wonderlands x showtime is where rui belongs. also the card for it is stunning HE LOOKS SO SAD BUT IN THE WAY WHERE HE CONVINCED HIMSELF THIS IS THE BEST CHOICE BUT HES LYING TO HIMSELF. this would be my favorite event if it didnt cause me so much pain.

🎞 what is your favorite mv?

yes.

tumblr is aphobic and wont let me add all the videos i want to so i made you a playlist!!!!!!

of those my favorites are showtime ruler, odore orchestra, stage of sekai, lower, daybreak frontline, and ego rock! (though i guess that doesn't help when all the song names are in japanese...)

if there's one that you find insteresting ask me about it! i can tell you more :) also i might just start adding stuff in there too not every song has a mv

[ao3feed-hawks]

Ghost Like You

ghost like you by starless skies

Dabi raised a brow, and the azure in his eyes danced like his blue flames. “Tell me, does the Commission torture you?”

Hawks’ hands clenched into fists in his pockets. “Why would they torture a hero?”

“What do they do to you, huh? After you've fucked up a mission and the press is turning against you? What do they do to the Number Two hero that puts him in a state where he's unaware of a villain in his own home?”

“What they do to me doesn't compare to what you do to yourself.”

Featuring: Undercover Hawks, an abusive Hero Commission, lots of trauma, Dadzawa, and general DabiHawks shenanigans.

Words: 3314, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Takami Keigo | Hawks, Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Usagiyama Rumi | Miruko, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Bubaigawara Jin | Twice, Toga Himiko, League of Villains, Hero Public Safety Commission

Relationships: Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks

Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Undercover Missions, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, mentions of abuse, phoenix theory touya, hawks repressed his memories, Selective Amnesia, the hero commission is evil, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is a Mess, Implied/Referenced Torture, hawks is abused by the hero commission, Blood and Injury, Dadzawa, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, hawks shenanigans, First Kiss, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, hawks and miruko are besties, dabihawks were trained together before sekoto peak incident, Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Manga Spoilers, Will be adding tags as I go

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44987032

[neonovember]

Two Coffee’s

Mafia!au x Steve Rogers

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ !

Taglist 🏷️ (send an ask to be part of my taglist for this series!)

@tinkerbelle67 @patzammit @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @nomadstucky @nessie2183 @shamelessfangirl-3 @namelesssav @marvel-phoenix @euphoric-goddess @roseeatta @abschaffer2  @louderfortheback @stupendouslovegardener @wandamaximoff-simp

It had been several weeks since you and Steve got into a routine, you would meet with him to discuss your husband, and he would be the omnipresent blanket of protection in the form of brooding men in dark cars stationed outside your apartment, the diner, your favourite coffee shop. His presence was present in every vessel and part of your life now, and it seems crazy that just 3 weeks ago you hadn't even down the man.

Now it was like he never left. Now it was like he was a part of your routine.

It’s that thought that lingers as you step outside the diner doors and into the chilly afternoon of the Brooklyn streets. With two cups of steaming coffee in hand, you march with a newfound determination towards the indiscreet black sedan that had been parked on the diner sidewalk since you walked through the doors that morning.

They may not speak to you directly, but you couldn’t find the heart to let them sit around for hours on end with nothing but the car heater and a carton of OJ. Especially against the winter breeze that felt like iced knives against your trembling skin.

You tap on the tinted glass gently, scrutinising the reflection that looked too exhausted and angry to really be you. There is a scuffle before the window is sliding until it reaches a quarter down. The man takes a moment to stare you down, hazel brown eyes with deep burly brows eyeing you before recognition clicks in him.

You’re Steves.

He looks at you expectedly, and you remember why you’re here in the first place, the borderline boiling coffee cups going unnoticed by your freezing hands.

You raise them up with a smile, and his eyes flicker to them. The man sitting in the driver's seat next to him bops his head as he catches your eye. Reaching across the brooding man whose stumbled jaw is currently working itself a beat, the man across from him with light eyes cracks an apologetic smile at his friend before accepting the coffee with a nod.

You don’t miss the bristled expression that adores the man as you hand his partner the drinks, all you can do is smile tightly before the window is sealed shut once again, and the only thing meeting your eyes is your reflection itself.

— -

“3 club sandwiches for table 18 hun, and ask if they'd like today’s apricot cobbler,” Caroline says in a rushed voice as she tied back the loose strands of hair escaping from a not-so-neat ponytail.

“You leaving already?” You reply mournfully, as you watch her sneak a few pastries into her duffel bag.

She whips her head up to look at you, her smile pulled down into a pouting frown

“Aww are you gonna mwiss me?” Caroline bubbles out in a screeching high baby voice.

“Ugh, you know I hate when you do that”

“Why do you think I do it” Caroline replies swiftly, wagging her eyebrows playfully

“Seriously though, I’m the only one on shift for the next” You pull up your sleeve to check your invisible watch “4 hours” You moan, following her as she rummages around the back kitchen searching for her phone charger.

A sound of trump escapes her throat as she eyes the hidden wire under a box of napkins

“No can do my beloved, Ron’s asked me over tonight. I think this time he's finally gonna give in” Caroline replies, as she looks over her shoulder smiling at me.

“You and that man. Jesus Caroline, you know it would be a bit easier to date someone..uh I don't know not married?” You gruff, shaking your head disapprovingly.

Caroline turn’s to you, rolling her eyes half-heartedly

“Not everyone can have Brooklyn's hottest mafia slash bachelor slash billionaire wrapped around our finger” Caroline replies, before laughing at your bugging eyes

I told you to keep that on the low dammit!” You hush at her with your hands, eyes searching the empty kitchen in case of eavesdroppers, or men donned in black. Either one scared the crap out of you.

“You know I would never tell a sole, these lips are sealed” Caroline replies, doing a zipping motion with her fingers

‘Yeah yeah, I do. I just wished you were here in case they- he shows up, you know?” You reply softly, gulping down the fear of even thinking of his name.

A look of recognition comes over Caroline’s features, before it is soon replaced with a fury that screams only fierce loyalty and bad decisions.

“Swear to god, if I ever see that man I’m putting a bullet through his skull” Caroline replies, her auburn brows furrowing with a look of determination that almost had you believing her.

“Mhm, with what? A silicon spatula?” You reply, eyebrows clocking up in disbelief, you used humour to mask all your emotions, not just the messed up ones.

“I was thinking a 47 Remington, maybe a shotgun! If I could just saw off the handle, I think it would look pretty good down his throat, don’t  you?” Caroline smiles with that innocent look, her eyes shining and her cheeks pushing out the dimples on her left side.

“I would pay to see that” You giggle, before pouting your face as she gathers her bag

“You have Hazel on shift don't ya?” She replies as she notices your kicked-dog expression

“Yeah, but she's as helpful as a sac of potatoes. Too busy talking to Daniel to be of any help” You sigh, swiping a hand across your forehead

At the mention of her name, your eyes watch the young waitress leaning over the kitchen counter, loud boisterous laughter leaving her red rubbery lips as she tries and fails to cover her mouth. Her nails are painted a mossy green but are chipped from her constant biting, and every step of hers jingles from the beady jewellery that adorns her neck and ears.

She had gotten the job in less than a day, and spent less time serving customers than she did suggesting songs for Daniel's busted speaker. The power of connections and a pretty face ran especially deep in the service industry.

Being the restaurant manager’s neice also helped.

Caroline turns to you, shaving her hands in your face to squeeze your cheeks

“Worrin’ will give you wrinkles. She’ll help if she knows you need it. Problem is you never ask don't you?” Caroline replies, unwrapping her apron from her waist and hanging it onto the encrusted wooden hooker.

There was truth to Caroline's words, no matter how much you despised them. All your life you had to rely on yourself, didn't matter if you were in the dusty cabin of your mother's home or the ceiling-high walls of your husband's manor. hell accepting even Steves's proposal felt like pulling teeth, despite every day prior wearing you thin with the lack of protection you held walking through the streets of Brooklyn. You'd taken to wearing a hood most days quicker than you did accept Steve's protection.

“Okay well, women in society have largely been told that they are not allowed to age, so guess my wording is really just a fuck you to the world”. You reply, following her out the back kitchen and down the coordinator to the front counter.

Caroline's laugh echoes through the diner, as she smiles across at you.

“There is hope for us yet” She grins, saying a quick bye to Daniel before slamming the diner door behind her.

Not before screaming out to the bustling street side

“Ya hear that world? Y/N says a big FUCK you” 

All you can do is smile brightly as the diner chimes jingle into the growing murmur of the Sunday lunch rush streaming from the diner booth surrounding you.

-- -

“When’s the last time you got laid, Steve?” Rumlows voice echoes in the large office, it's like sandpaper, that voice of his, and it irritates the raging headache pressing against Steve’s temple.

Steve scoffs back a disgruntled noise, shaking his head before flicking through the folded stack of papers left on his desk that morning.

“No, I mean it, they’re usually a sea of women that leave your floor, what happened?” Rumlow edges him, those busy eyebrows rising up in expectation, his bulky frame sitting hunched on the velvet chair across Steve’s.

Steve’s eyes flicker across to Rumlow, searching his face before drifting down to catch the seared tattoo peaking from his rolled sleeve. Rumlow had once been integrated into one of New York's more violent and unstable crime syndicates, the kind that dealt with human trafficking and selling girls like fucking stables.

Steve was already weary of his often violent and ill-tempered mood, the kind that ended up boiling into violent outbursts. But he needed men at the time, and Rumlow was like a trained dog, so he bit back his resignation and enveloped him into the family.

Oh, how he grew to regret it.

“I’m busy, alright, gotta keep fucking Brooklyn from sinking” Steve replies without looking up from his work, swift signature flying over the dotted lines of dock payments and shipments from Budapest.

Rumlow hums, folding his arms across his chest thoughtfully, his eyes linger on Steve’s, analysing him carefully.

“You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“That girl you’ve got us looking after, a goddamn wife, you know what he’ll do to us if he finds out we’ve got his little wife knee-deep in our shit?” Rumlow spits out, venom lacing his tone as his eyes glint with a certain fire.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Steve’s voice bellow from deep within his chest, but his face is unmoving, his features set in stone that refused to wither into clay.

“C'mon Steve, I know she’s a fine piece of ass but is she really that fucking worth it? I mean you’re putting a lot on stake for some tits-“. Before Rumlow can finish his sentence, a loud crunch envelops the room, Steve's fist flying into Rumlows mouth as he shatters his face.

The immediate scream of pain and anguish fills the room, as blood begins squirting out of  Rumlows nose, spilling down his white shirt and staining it further, Steve has to restrain himself from killing the man for the way he talked about you.

The sound of Rumlows wheezing whimpers is drowned out by the loud stomps of boots against the hallway floors. The door opens with a thunk, slamming into the wall behind it before Bucky steps into the bloodied scene of Steve’s office.

“Fuck sake Steve” Bucky grunts, as his eyes reach Rumlows crouched position on the floor, holding a hand to his nose to try and seize the blood oozing from the imprint of Steve’s fist.

“Clean that shit up” Steve replies before wiping away the blood off his knuckles with a cloth towel, throwing it towards Rumlow.

“You don’t ever speak to her that way alright? Let this be a warning to all of you, what’s my business with her is just that, my own” Steve snarks, flicking off the splatters of blood that landed on his cufflinks.

Rumlow shuffles awkwardly, reaching for the rag with a blind hand before limping out of the office, his dignity and ego left in the pool of blood staining the plush carpet.

Bucky steps closer, his hands shoved into his pocket as he stares unblinking at the stained carpet.

Steve looks towards him, muttering profanities under his breath as he smooths out the wrinkles in his suit.

“What?” Steve asks Bucky, watching on as his closest friend refuses to meet his eye.

“When you have us shuffle in on rotation to watch her like some fucking fast food gig, you don’t think they’ll be asking questions??” Bucky murmurs

“That isn’t why I asked you to watch her now, is it? They're my closest men-you’re my closest man, and you want to question me? Bucky when have I ever done anything stupid? Huh?” Steve replies, eyes searching through the disappointment that covers Bucky’s face.

“Never, but I think you’re about to start now” Bucky replies, anger lacing his tone as he moves out of the room.

As much as it pained him to admit it, there was truth to Rumlow’s words, Steve had made a name for himself as a notorious bachelor who never slept with the same girl twice. He found a certain addiction in the debauchery of sex, but it was never love. Steve fucked because he liked to hear the sound of his name screamed into the city skies, watching the women he’d bring home unravel before him.

Now though, Steve has to take a moment to consider that his bed was left cold through most nights, the mantel and throne of the mafia king consuming him.

-- -

Pushing through the swinging doors of the diner restrooms, you cough out a gag as you breathe a lungful of air sharply. The diner's bathrooms were usually a mess by the time you closed your doors but god did it seem so much worse today.

Your eyes survey the diner for the crowds of patrons that usually occupied the leather booths but find them empty instead, a few drizzled customers sipping a coffee before folding their newspapers and making their way out.

The sun had dipped into the horizon soon after you had walked through the bathroom stalls, but the winter months caused the night to come quicker than ever, basking the outside with a darkness you can't help but shudder against.

Collecting the diner menus, you shove them into the shelving compartment situated near the doors, and as you reach for a washcloth a sudden feeling of eyes searing holes into your back envelops your senses. It feels like you’re being watched, and it feels like you're just now noticing, the suddenly ominous atmosphere created by the foggy darkness outside causing you to gulp. You crane your neck slowly to search for those pair of eyes, but all you can see is your manager’s head bobbing up from the diner counter.

She gestures with a nod for you to come over, and you discard the washcloth on the table before meeting her eyes.

‘I’m going to head out, just serve the last few customers and lock up for me.” Mare replies, wiping a hadn't across her face as she slings a bag across her back.

“Where did Hazel go?” You reply as you notice her absence from the kitchen

“Oh, she had to attend this party or something so I gave her the rest of the night off” Mare replies nonchalantly.

You have to dig your diners into your thigh to stop from throwing a sharp remark. You had to beg Mare to let you stay home after you’d got that flu going around the city, and even then you had to make it up in overtime. And now she was leaving you to clean up the diner all on your own, so much for a positive working environment.

You think about stealing from the register just to spite her, but you know she would find out either way and then you'd be rotting in a jail cell with an officer calling for your husband to come to pick you up and throw you back into your other living hell.

So you bite your tongue and bid her farewell as she exited the diner without a second look.

You register her words soon after, customers? But you had sworn all of them had filed out hours ago. It’s then that you noticed the hunched figure almost lying over the diner counters, and you move swiftly to reach his stool.

The man from before is perched on one of the diner stools, his grip pressing into the counter until his hands were knuckle white. A stringy black wooden jacket now adores his body, a stark difference from the deep coal black of his tailored suit in that car hours ago. It obscures half his face, scrunched up to cover his nose and mouth.

His eyes dart across the now empty diner booths, ears catching every sound like a hawk, the scar stretching across his face like a white hand pinched and relaxed with every turn of his head. 

He’s hiding from something that you know, but you also know he isn't a man to particularly be afraid of getting caught.

Stepping towards him with a tentative shuffle of your feet, you grip your notepad tight around your hand, a tight smile gracing your features as he slowly rises his head from your scuffled converse to meet your eyes.

“What can- what can I get you?” You gulp down the nervousness from your voice, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn't hurt you- he can’t, Steve had promised. And you don't know why but you take it his word is as good as gold.

“Just a coffee honey, just like the one from before” The man replies, a dead look in his eyes as you note down his order.

“Nothing to eat? I can’t promise you a fresh meal, but we’ve got a few sandwiches I could heat up for you” You reply, you ask just because it's customary, but god you wished he could be out any sooner.

“Haven’t got the appetite ‘m afraid” The man replies, a smile cracks over the ice of his features, that same jagged white scar folding across his face. There's a glint in his eyes that shine against the diner's fluorescent lights, like he knows something you don’t and it scares you to no end.

You nod slowly, before quickly shuffling your body to get behind the kitchen counter. Reaching for a clean ceramic mug, you make quick work of pouring a fresh batch of espresso into the mug, the black liquid swirls like a whirlpool, steam rising from the cup so you have to carry it gently towards his seat. You feel his eyes on you the entire time, and your hands shake a little as you place it out in front of him.

“Anything else?” You say, rocking on the ball of your feet as you watch him carefully.

“I’m all set, thank you” The man smiles up at you, and your eyes furrow at the disingenuous smile that fits all too big on his face, its almost disprorpoatnte like a Halloween mask, all white teeth and dead eyes.

“I would appreciate it if you could join me, however..?” The man adds, eyes meeting yours that burn into you intensely, he still wears that same Cheshire smile, but his eyes, his eyes almost challenge you to say no. To see what would become of you if you did.

“Uhm..I’m on the clock, can’t be chattin’ when I'm meant to be..” You reply, trying to find the right words to say.

“Serving..customers?” The man clocks his eyebrow, turning around to gesture to the empty diner.

“There hasn't been a soul hat walked through those doors ever since you took your little bathroom break honey, so how about you make my crap day just a little brighter by sittin’ with me?” The man frames his proposal like a question, but you know the way he grips the counter tight that he means it as a command.

There is a beat of silence, of you just staring at him, trying to conceal your growing fear before your eyes dart to the diner doors. He catches your eye line, and coughs out a wheezing chuckle, clocking his head to the side.

“You aren’t that dumb, are you?” The man replies in a condescending tone, and you let your failure weigh down your shoulders.

“Follow me” The man replies with a smile, gathering his coffee mug with one hand before pressing the other to the small of your back, causing you to shudder unconsciously. He leads you to one of the booths hidden away from the door, and you sit with your back straight as he leans onto the booth table.

The silence between you both is filled soon with his hurried gulps of coffee, slamming it to the booth table and causing a crack to form like a lightning bolt through the ceramic mug. The violence causes you to finch, and he looks up at you with a grin.

And within a second, the man is quickly unmasking his hoodie from his face, and the scene that confronts you causes a sickening nausea to rise up your throat. The man’s face, which had been obscured by the hoodie earlier, now bears violent bruises and cuts that burst from his nose and jaw like flowers. They glint against the diner booths overhanging light, fresh and still swollen since the object or thing had cracked against his face.

The man grunts at your disturbed expression, slamming a hand down onto the diner counter that causes you to flinch.

“Your fucking protector gave me this, did you know that?” The man snarks with disgust, you're too afraid to meet his eyes but you take in his words slowly.

Your protector? Huh? No… he doesn’t mean-wait

Steve did this?

You can’t dwell on that realisation before the man is rambling to you angrily again

“And for what? You aren’t shit to me, to any of us, and frankly, we’re getting tired of watching your ass mop and clean after fucking truckers and shit. I used to take down fucking men, and I’m here babysitting. I think it’s about time to put out, alright?” He replies a knowing expression across his face that is soon morphed into amusement as he registers your confused expression.

“I mean you do know that’s why he keeps you? Wants to train you to be his little wife like you once were to little old Richerson’s. Or did you think we’d forget about your husband who’s hunting you down hm? Who’s probably going to throw my ass in the Hudson with a missing foot for even talking to you?”

You bristle at the mention of your husband's name, shaking your head as you press your fingertip to your squeezed eyes until you see stars.

No, no no. This was all wrong. Steve said he’d protect you, he had said that. He promised it like his life depended on it, but the truth was, yours did. And now, now he confuses you, your temples start to throb as a headache sets in as it does since that night when you think too hard or try to remember anything from before. Before your husband, before New York, before this very diner booth.

Did Steve really expect you to be some sit-in wife for him? Jump from one prison into another to finally be the last chest piece of his kingdom? You feel sick at the thought, the nausea burning your stomach as you press a hand to your mouth.

“You seriously didn't think you were anything else did you? Women can't be in this world unless they're whores or wives. That’s how it's always been and always will be. Don’t ever think otherwise, or soon you'll just be another fucking useless whore lying fast down in an alleyway” The man grunts, before pushing the cracked coffee mug towards you before rising from his seat, reaching into his pocket to throw a few scrunched bills at you.

“Clean this shit up, and I suggest you start putting out and doing it fast” The man replies, looking down at you before reaching for your chin, raising your face to meet his eyes.

He ticks at the tremble of your lips as you gulp down the nausea and fear still bubbling deep inside you.

“It's a shame really, that such a pretty face goes out like this, you see I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but he gave me no choice.” The man sighs sadly as if it was the world's burden to carry that information.

“Reckon you could’ve been something if Richardson had not snatched you up like he did all those years ago. Funny how life works though isn't it? Used to be living in tower high walls and now you're scrubbing a dirty restaurant floor”. The man replies softly, yet the words spit out of him like blood, insincerity written all over his face that told you he didn’t feel bad. Not one bit. In Fact, he probably enjoyed it.

He lets go of your chin with a shove, before his loud boots stomp against the linoleum floors, slamming the diner doors behind him with a bang, and leaving you to drown in the ever-growing lies the people you’ve trusted have suffocated you in.

[metalphoenix]

Ableism in the Defenders Saga

Something that I noticed while watching the NMCU shows are how differently Matt gets treated from Jessica, Luke and Danny. Neither Jessica or Luke want to be vigilantes. Jessica has to be persuaded by Trish and Malcolm and Luke has to be pushed by Pops and Claire. Even then they both only do it when it becomes clear that by not acting people will get hurt/raped/killed. I don’t really have any intrest in Danny and haven’t watched much of his show but from what I understand his friends are pretty supportive of him too.

Then theres Matt. Literally all of his friends have tried to get him to stop and given him shit for trying to help people. Even Claire says she can’t date him because of Daredevil then turns around and dates Luke. Now Claire can date whoever she wants and I don’t ship Matt/Claire (NurseDevil???) but just purely from that standpoint its pretty hypocritical. The only difference I can think of between all of them is Matt’s disability. As a disabled person myself I can confidently say that abled people get incredibly uncomfortable when the people they think are helpless/need protection are not helpless and able to stand up for themselves. So, a disabled person who goes out and protects others? Unthinkable. 

But Phoenix! You cry, Jessica, Luke and Danny all have physical enhancements/powers that Matt doesn't have! Don’t they all have valid concerns? Well let’s take a look at Frank. He has 0 powers and yet all his friends support him going out and doing what he does and when they do argue its about his penchant for maximum casualties or trying to get him to stop meddling in government business, not out of fear for his safety. Matt is just as competent, if not more so, then Frank is. I mean sure his hand to hand is good but the only way he beats Matt is with guns. Hell Matt even beats Danny, the guy who was trained since childhood to be a master martial artist and supposedly fought a dragon. 

So really the only reason I can see for people to give Matt shit for his activities is ableism and seeing as Foggy says some incredibly ableist shit I don’t think this theory is that far fetched.    

-Phoenix