#albeit his methods are questionable but he comes close to winning at times

[m0thisonfire]

If I had a nickel for every time I went batshit over a mad evil inventor with the face of a triangle, I’d have two- three? Four??

I’m not sure, but it’s becoming alarming how many nickels I’m beginning to acquire in this regard.

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

[archer3-13]

some manfred von karma HC's i guess:

- obviously comes from old money, and i mean VERY old money. that said they arent the richest of those kinds of families around so they make up for it in connections and social standing. as such the extended family are generally hellbent on being the best in whatever field they pursue.

- manfred has been stated as having been a lot more well intentioned to begin with but got bent as time went on. i would assume that he was never exactly pleasant though, haughty and full of himself in that assumption of inherent superiority kinda way. he was very interested in law and justice back in the day however, and took to prosecuting quite naturally out of a desire to send 'evil' down the river.

- however that desire also worked against him overtime as he got more experienced and importantly more jaded and full of himself. it was a black and white binary view on law in the end, that morphed into an arrogant and obsessive assumption that even being sent to trial was a crime worthy of punishment in of itself, which eventually morphed into his win at all costs mindset as he lost sight of justice and the truth entirely.

- now an established name hes pretty rightly feared as a walking demon capable of burning down anyone's career should they cross paths with him. and for a while that indomitable reputation holds. then gregory comes into the picture.

- theres the penalty on his perfect record obviously but theres also a mixture of other factors that lead to von karma making the choice he does. the trial being dragged out for a year, the embarrassments of being so blatantly caught on the backfoot, being taken to task by some no name podunk defense attorney, and not even being able to destroy the man in court as recompense. its a volatile cocktail that explodes just right with a little bit of confusion, exhaustion and pain into coldblooded and uncommonly impulsive murder to the methodical man.

- his reputation never quite recovers after his vacation. hes still feared as a demon attorney, and he does quite a lot to 'make up for the embarrassment' but theres always going to be that chink in his armour to remind people hes not that hot. his extend family have a tendency to needle him about this to his frustration.

- despite being an 'exemplary von karma', manfreds not very close with others in his extended family outside of the minimum obligations. part of it is how busy his work keeps him, part of it is how tiresome he finds most of them. he has a few exceptions such as his unseen sibling but even then hes clearly kind of stiff about it.

- met his wife later in life, around the peak of his career before dl-6. genuinely infatuated with her in his own way to the point of blowing off an arranged marriage, in part because he and his wife share a lot of hyper competitive and perfectionist behaviors. his wife is a well known police officer in his home country, which is how they met. and like him shes regarded as something of a terror with a shady as hell reputation [forging evidence together is so romantic]. following manfreds conviction shes put under a lot of scrutiny herself and eventually gets convicted as well, albeit not on murder charges.

- well hes a begrudging pride of the family, the von karmas generally pretend he doesnt exist after his conviction. in part because of embarrassment at him getting caught in part to save their own reputations.

- the extended von karma family generally hated edgeworth and questioned manfred on his adoption of the boy all the time. manfred for his part did the usual responsibilities of a parent but had a tendency to be distant to edgeworth, especially early on, treating their relation as more of a mentor student one then a parental one. the sheer stratospheric rise of edgeworths career is in part a testimony to manfreds ability as a mentor.

- never the warmest of people, he practically doted on Franziska by his standards especially because of how much later in life he and his wife had her. eventually acted a bit warmer to edgeworth in part because of Franziska's insistence.

- dislikes children's birthday parties but that wont stop him from throwing the perfect birthday party out of stubborn pride.

- loves to brag about the most innocuous of talents and things in other people. "my protegee edgeworth can whistle all manner of songs in perfect pitch, and yet he is not even a singer! that his the depths of his talent in all things!"

- to an extent the conviction came as something of a relief to the mental house of cards manfred had built. perfection, failure, the murder, the von karma name, now none of it would matter for however long he had left. in that manner it was the relief of being well and truly beaten for the first and last time.

[hei-ch0u]

It’s long...(fair warning) ✰

 Shingeki no Kyojin 139 (Theories)

Since everyone is throwing around their theories from the wild to the more likely, I thought I should contribute. After all, it will be the last time we can theorise this amazing manga full of all its twists and turns. Like most, I do agree with the popular fan theories simply because this manga is consistently unpredictable with each chapter. Let’s face it, some stories are easily picked apart these days and finding one that continuously has you thinking about what could occur is a winning tale. So first, I will start off by saying that I am so sad that Shingeki no Kyojin is coming to an end. But! I will never forget this amazing manga as I have grown so attached to the characters and the story as you can tell from the past nearly 9 years of running this blog. So, thank you yams for being such a genius! Regardless of the ending, it will go down in history as one of the best stories I personally have ever read and witnessed.

With typical fan theories, I won’t go into them too much as I feel the concept of the “time loop” has been written about to filth and I think it is very blatantly clear at this point that the concept of a time loop is very likely in one way or another given the overall concept within aot/snk in general - there is a obvious manipulation of past, present and future. I will hold my hands up and say that I definitely do agree with ‘some’ popular fan theories and will list a fair few below in brief detail - as I do think they are highly likely to be true in some way or at least implied within the last chapter. Now, with the usual leak dates coming up on the horizon, I wanted to put my input in before hand. Although, because of recent prosecution warnings for leaking the final chapter - I would advise others just to wait for the 9th of April on official release for concrete facts rather than speculations and leaks simply because we have seen with past few chapters that a lot of false spoilers get released and I think with the final chapter it would be wise to wait as I have previously stated on here that it will be the ‘revelation’ chapter that ties this manga together.

So! With the typical fan theories, we see the likes of:

Eren being the baby daddy to Historia’s baby

Eren sacrificing his reason for living - freedom. By being the greater evil to bring about the greater good

The baby itself could become the new beast titan or baby Eren/Ymir reborn

Eren isn’t dead, but on Paradis by way of transferring his subconscious into a crystallised version of himself

Eren and Ymir have struck a deal

And of course - the time loop concept

…The list is endless of popular fan theories. It would be silly not to agree with any of them given the story and where we are currently at, its very clear that Historia, Eren and Ymir will play a big part somehow in the final chapter (if not id be genuinely shocked) since majority of the past few chapters they have been absent in full form and I feel this needs to be explained. After all we still haven’t seen the full extent of the memories of past/future that Eren was aware of from his contact with Historia and his connection with Ymir in Paths. We saw 137 being predominantly Armin based, 138 being Mikasa based and I think it is only reasonable given his absence as the initial protagonist that Eren will be the revelation within 139. Ultimately culminating EMA / the trio as a whole. We began with them, so it only makes sense to end with them (albeit separately as individuals).

Moving on, as you can see I agree with said fan theories as I think any route could be possible! The thing with Shingeki no Kyojin is that it has many hidden ‘Easter eggs’ (how fitting given its easter), whether it be in the background of scenes, characters wording, placement of scenes/characters, flashbacks, paths and even in the opening and ending credits of the anime we see hidden meanings through imagery. It has all been laid out very well for our finding, its just if we have an intuitive enough imagination to pick it apart and figure things out. This leads on to my own theory/theories (it can go any way and I wont sugarcoat it - I could be reaching)

I generally have 2 theories that run about in my head with how the story itself could turn out or how it works. Both theories kind of tie together in one way or another featuring predominantly Eren and then Mikasa or overall ‘Ackerman’ blood/gene concept and its potential involvement in control of said time loop. I will do my best to include manga panels to give visual insight to the points.

To begin, I want to touch on Mikasa's “dream” in 138 - although devastating, I think it is being taken as the opposite of what it was and personally I see many looking at it through rose tinted glasses. This wasn’t an alternative universe (in my opinion), this was Mikasa’s Ideal life - her dream. When it comes to Eren as a connection to Mikasa, he is her reason for being, even in death she chooses not to part with him for her own good and creates a dreamlike reality for herself to make herself go through with the deed. She as a character has dominantly surrounded her existence on Eren, he is categorised many times within the manga as ‘home’ - like other fan theories have stated, it has been mentioned many times Mikasa referencing the word ‘home’ and also how she wants to ‘be close to him’ because it gives her comfort and strength. The Ackermans as a whole have attachments to people and this is where they ultimately gain strength from. Without any of the Ackermans ‘attachments’ being in danger or being killed, their powers wouldn’t be awakened and without them I feel their strength almost weakens until they find a new reason for living to keep moving forward. I’ll touch more on the ‘Ackerman’ theory later as its one of the open loopholes still currently alive within the manga.

Mikasa has always been a character that confuses me, particularly with the way she acts and things she says or thinks. She has said many things that don’t make sense unless she has a certain belief system or knows of things from past lives.

Examples:

As you can see and I will produce more evidence of such comments further in. She implies that she either believes in reincarnation or she is aware of different periods within the said time loop. She speaks of starting over, being dead and returning and implies in different ways that she is scared of the same thing happening again. The last panel - what plan is she on about here? Her own plan. In my opinion it is - "Don't let Eren die". As we have seen, that may be what has to happen. It's fate. She interferes with this and never lets him go.

Mikasa does have an unhealthy bond with Eren, I do think he loves her ( I’m not dismissing that ) but do I think its the type of intense love she feels? no. Some things she has came out with has even shocked other characters and countless times her comrades have tried to ‘break the barrier’ to get her to realise her way of thinking when it comes to Eren is unhealthy. Hence why I think we seen Jean in this particular scene below so frustrated

not because he himself has feelings for her, but because she’s not letting them get through to her that she is refusing to believe Eren could ultimately be a changed person (which he definitely is, I’ll not go into my rant of why he isn’t ‘evil or a ‘monster’ because i’ve done so already) but overall, Mikasa constantly makes excuses for Eren and doesn’t recognise it, her life revolves around being close to Eren and she gets very emotionally troubled at the idea of not being with him or him ultimately taking a path that doesn’t involve her. We even seen Annie question her and this wasn't many chapters ago and she replies with the same mindset of bringing back "the old Eren". He is not the person he once was particularly as a child. Something that is implied at beginning of manga, it opens with them as children and somehow links with 138.

As stated by Armin below we see him even explaining to Mikasa that Eren’s never close, he always takes his own route and that ultimately both Armin and Mikasa aren’t his reason for living. Let’s face it - Freedom is Eren’s reason for being, his only desire. Armin has also expressed disbelief and almost frustration at her way of thinking when it comes to him (below examples) I think in a way the famed ‘table scene’ was Eren trying to break the bond, but he’s not doing that for no reason, its implied he does it to protect them, but it could also be because of what he has seen in memories past and future - he has perhaps became aware of Mikasa’s involvement within paths and the loop. He has to try to alter her way of thinking to protect her, but maybe also himself.

Armin + Other comrades reactions to Mikasa’s mindset 

Another visual point to make regarding Mikasa’s ties with previous loops and Armin, was her comment made about him at a very early stage in the manga just after Eren had been eaten by a titan after saving Armin - leaving his fate at this point unknown. 

this is implying that Mikasa has some knowledge of previous times Armin has helped them with his ‘ability’ which if we are referencing him as a character is his methodical intelligence. But, even here he is confused by the comment, simply because at this point there has been no signs of Armin’s usage of this ability - mainly fear and lack of confidence with that in comparison of his peers. We don’t necessarily see this until perhaps even a chapter later and as far as we are aware, Mikasa doesn't follow through with “i’ll tell you about it later”.

I don’t know about anyone else, but it seems odd she has such an attachment to Eren like this that is so intense. It’s not normal to be as intense as she is about someone unless she is used to losing that person over and over. Even as children Mikasa acted possessive over the ‘concept’ of Eren dying - it wasn’t allowed to happen. She doesn’t have this intense reaction with Armin or other comrades. She fixates on the idea of Eren being her saviour, the one to give her a ‘home’ and a ‘purpose’. Mikasa consistently opposes his death and his death alone, I can only see this from a standpoint that deep within her own memory she has experienced his death countless times before. She even uses force a couple of times to increase this intensity. Here are some examples of this even in childhood -

There are many more examples of this throughout the manga and her refusal to accept that what she doesn’t want, may just happen. Now this might just be my over active imagination or my own ability of media studies kicking in. But, previously I had been under the impression in the presence of a time loop that Eren was in charge of it and controlling it, that somehow it would constantly reoccur when he himself died and he would have to come up with a way to either prevent his death or ultimately stop the timeline of the titans. Whether that be under making a deal with Ymir herself or by essentially “breaking the wheel” and turning others against him to show Eldians as triumphant heroes.

However, the more i’ve thought about it and given the revelations of 138 - i would be more inclined to say it is Mikasa Ackerman herself due to either her specifically or her Ackerman gene. There is something about the bloodline that is missing and we have not had the fabled Ackertalk or much explanation of how they work (something I’d like to see covered in 139 - although i feel it will be an Eren chapter, I also think it will include the visions Eren has seen to give an explanation of why the previous 138 chapters played out the way they did)

I think there is a possibility Eren had to break the wheel on the loop,  Mikasa would go back each time and always Eren would die, something we’ve established she tries to prevent and never accepts. The only escape was her accepting his death therefore he did everything he could to push her away, break the bond and push her to kill him to end the cycle (since he’s seen the future). As I have a hunch previously in other loops he was not killed by her hand - it had to be her to break the cycle or vice versa (but we will get to this).

there is hints of this in the “Lost Girls” OVA. Yes, I am aware it’s said that OVAS are not necessarily canon per say, but I don’t think it would have so many open links if Isayama himself didn't want it to. This particular one gives many hints to Mikasa’s involvement in the loop and alternative universe theories. The anime adaptations are on point with showing us details we only recognise after more plot points are revealed. It may explain the headaches, every time Eren dies, she reverses the loop or changes realities. This ailment could be a product of her memory issues. In the OVA we see Mikasa in real time thinking about Eren and his constant state of taking his own path.

After this moment, the said “Scene” she speaks of is revealed to us. Another example of Mikasa’s dreamlike state or perhaps another timeline? We are taken back to the time where she had given up, had ran out of gas, a titan was approaching and she was ‘lost’ - her reason for being was gone and she knew her death was coming, but also in the manga during this scene she is “worried” she’ll have to start again (above in examples). This again implies she knows something we don’t. We then hear Mikasa’s voice speaking to Mikasa herself, telling her that if she simply didn’t like this reality she could choose the place she wanted, but as we have seen before - she can’t stop his death.

The peculiar scene in this OVA that got me intrigued by this theory is the masked figure and young mikasa scene. Mikasa is rushing to meet with Eren and Armin to escape the walls in a hot air balloon, but she has to be there by a certain time or the plan fails. As she is running she is stopped by a mysterious masked figure who asks her to join in on his hypnotism trick to spectators. Comments he makes involve him telling her that her ‘friend’ will ultimately leave her and that she couldn’t accept his death and created this universe. Also, that he is no one, but someone at the same time. I think this holds great significance since the strange thing about this is that his voice mirages into a distant adult Mikasa.

implying that she has to ‘kill’ a part of herself or she has to die to prevent and hault the loop. She has to return from her idealistic dreams of keeping him alive as it will only fail otherwise. Upon hearing of Eren’s yet again untimely death within this universe, she begins to have memory flashes of multiple scenes appearing within her eyes with a typical media ‘rewind’ sound as she wakes up back in the street with no gas and a titan approaching but... she says something I find interesting and links to what Eren says at the beginning of the manga 

“the feeling I’ve had a really long dream”

We witness Mikasa have these “headaches” multiple times within the manga and in the anime they are heavily focused on whenever it happens, which we can only recognise that this is an important part of the story itself. Eren too has random headaches, just not as much as Mikasa, he mainly experiences them when he accesses new memories. However, what if Mikasa too is affected by memories she cannot tap into or it is paths/ackerman gene warning her she is repeating past mistakes?

Notice how there is a lot of emphasis on the word ‘again’ when it comes to her headaches or the thought of losing Eren. It is constantly repeated. I think it is highly likely she only remembers some parts from previous loops, but the one that sticks is simply - she has to save Eren each time, but fails. Everything begins again after his or her’s demise. Perhaps each time Eren is the one who dies first, creating a somewhat butterfly effect. That maybe Mikasa has died once like she implies in previous example. However, the one to die first (in this case primarily Eren) loses all memories of the past loops - again this is implied as Eren does tell Mikasa he cannot remember his dream. I think deep within his mind Mikasa does remember, but given the fact she has potentially reversed the outcome many times...her memory is simply warped - that or she died in the previous loop and lost those components. 

Will she not remember due to her memories being altered in her death?

Either way something needs to change. Eren Kruger says this in Eren’s attack titan memories. They are doing something wrong.

I believe Eren in 138 within Mikasa’s dream, was trying to tell her to move on, not necessarily forget him, but at least accept his passing - to stop the loop reoccurring, he influenced part of her reality...maybe with the help of Ymir. In a way it could be implied Eren almost regrets wrapping the scarf around her (this is heavily emphasised as a symbol of their relationship), for me the scarf seems like a softer symbolism for a chain - a binding if you will. By wrapping it round Mikasa he binds her to him. He has always insisted she should throw it away, even in 138 within her own conjured reality he says the same. She needs to kill this part of herself or “the same history” will be repeated. I do have a HUGE feeling in my heart, head and gut that Mikasa may need to end up dead first as I do have another HUGE feeling that Eren is not dead (maybe its wishful thinking, but his death doesn’t make sense right now, so Yams I trust in you for explanation). His death seemed too convenient.

Now, before I go onto “Ackerman” gene factors, I’ll briefly bring in another peculiarity I have always had about a particular scene in the beginning of the manga. After it is decided Eren will carry the boulder to plug the wall, Eren (the attack titan) seemingly loses control and succumbs to pure rage, in turn he attacks Mikasa. Something he hasn’t done against humans unless its free will.

However, a part of me has always felt that this could be the attack titan itself (in past inhabitants and memories) recognising her as a threat and trying to rid her of the world first to avoid the loop of Eren dying first to Mikasa controlling the loop to return to try to save Eren - nothing changes. This is what I meant by “breaking the wheel”, we have saw it in other tales, things can’t change unless you choose a different path than the same one with the same brutal cycle. As Kruger says, to save Mikasa and Armin, Eren has to change things - this could be to separate not only Armin, but Mikasa from him, that maybe in previous loops...they follow him. In this instance, he has definitely separated Armin and by way of second hand - Mikasa too. Hence why Ymir says goodbye to Eren in 138, he is free. Another notable concept is that aot/snk is made up of trios, we see it in:

Eren / Mikasa / Armin

Reiner / Bertholdt / Annie

Connie / Jean / Sasha

Hanji / Erwin / Levi

Levi / Farlan / Isabel 

Kenny / Levi / Mikasa

It would partially make sense for the trio to be the reasoning for the ending. Almost illuminati based - very yams style. 

Why not Mikasa?

Lets talk Ackerman and a slightly different theory, but with relation! 

(Obviously, I cannot provide much evidence to support any Ackerman based theories other than what has already been provided, which isn’t a lot to be fair. Dammit Yams)

I want to briefly start off on the Ackerman front with a brief comparison of our two currently known Ackermans: Levi and Mikasa. The main categorising difference between these two is that Levi moves on regardless of what happens to him or his comrades or his ‘attachments’. He also does not appear to experience these headaches, some say he does, but I can’t find evidence. Isayama shows these headaches with a throbbing sign around Mikasa’s head - so unless the Ackertalk happens and Levi confirms it, its still absent in theory. Levi treats Ackerman-ism as moving on, making choices with no regrets (as his backstory indicates) and even in current states he has said he doesn’t regret his decisions. It is why he is able to move forward and keep surviving. Its simple...his mindset is stronger than Mikasa's, she is the weaker link. This could be due to age difference and overall past experience, Levi has more life experience as an Ackerman to have mastered his emotion and reactions to outcomes - he accepts the bad. 

Mikasa is weaker in this regard, perhaps if you link it back to the theory of her control of the loop...due to this weakness she creates the loop since she can’t accept his death and tries to return to make amends. I think in reality, Eren knows due to the attack titan ability - he will die. Hence why he appeared so shocked upon making contact with Historia to then very depressed and detached before vanishing in Marley. He became aware of the outcome and I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d be depressed too after finding out my life was made to end especially since all he wanted as a character was Freedom. Eren x Freedom will be the only canon ship at this rate.

However, I do think the only way she can create said loop is through her Ackerman gene. Ackermans are products of ‘titan science’, they were genetically engineered (if you want to put it that way) to have titan like abilities while still maintaining their human form and sense of self being. Created to protect the Fritz family (royal blood), to eventually being ostracised for their dismissal of the plan to wipe Eldian’s memories. Therefore banished, but allowed to live, I can only see there being one reason why - they would be still useful at some point and their deaths/extinction would be wasteful. 

From what we know and can tell from mere viewing, the Ackermans are very skilled and powerful beings that have ‘hosts’ or attachments (I like this name better) to channel their goals, strength and energy into. They were made to protect, fight and survive. The only surviving Ackermans are Levi and Mikasa.

They cannot be affected by the founding titan and their memories cannot be altered. But, this brings about another question. Why were they created to protect the founding titan, yet could not be controlled by it? The theory with this bloodline is that they can do more than what we see, that they themselves don’t know it yet. One in particular can alter realities - that being Mikasa (as we don’t have mass amounts of information on Levi’s experiences other than his surge of power awakenings demonstrated throughout the manga to confirm his part) due to fact Levi really only knew he was an Ackerman within his 30′s after the previous Ackerman - Kenny, dies and informs him of this. Mikasa has always been aware. 

Mikasa’s ‘Power’ ultimately has something to do with the Attack Titan and the Founding titan - that being Eren and Ymir combined. In past loops, I believe each time she has seen Eren die she has said “see you later, Eren”... hence the ending of 138 and the beginning of the manga. Isayama did say the beginning would relate to the ending. Each time this happens they are transcended to the point Eren wakes up at the tree within the walls to begin once more, its the only clear explanation for why Eren comments of her hair length. The attack titan itself is the component of Ymir that captivates her freedom, it continues to move forward for 2000 years each successor until one has the power (the desire for freedom like her) to release her from enslavement to the power of the titans. In this instance Eren too has been a slave to the power, lets for arguments sake blame Grisha for passing it on to him. 

Again, with the Ackermans there is something I’ve always noticed between Levi and Mikasa - they have never touched skin to skin. It has always been over their clothing. I wonder if their Ackerman powers may stem similar to how Eren draws memories from contact with the royal family, i.e. Historia. They need to touch in order to access Paths and manifest it into their control. Eren is aware of this due to his connection to Ymir - there is heavy implied material to denote the idea of Ragnarok and reincarnation. Eren is the reincarnate of Ymir and previously I don’t think they were aware of this.

For anyone not familiar with the term “Ragnorok” - its definition has multiple meanings in Norse mythology. Particularly - development, origin, cause, relation and fate. It is a series of events that often lead to a great battle, the deaths of multiple people of importance to the ultimate end revelation of the world being remade and fertile (the opposite of Zeke’s plan) with the remaining ‘gods’ returning and ‘two’ human survivors repopulating the world. I personally believe this to be either two of these: Levi and Mikasa or Eren and Historia by the way of Ymir as the ultimate god, but just in different ways. The Ragnorok element is particularly of importance within Germanic studies, this would connect with Shingeki no Kyojin since it is implied its set in early germany/europe and given characters name origins - it makes sense.

The two human survivors are that of Lif and Lifbrasir (shown below) who survive by ‘hiding’ in the woods while the great battle commences. 

They repopulate the world starting with a daughter. In germanic regions, the concept of mankind originated from trees is an ancient notion “the tree of life” essentially. Trees have a massive importance and connection in Shingeki no Kyojin, we see Eren wake up at one in the beginning, the main Path coordinate resembles a tree, Ymir originated from trees and being within the woods would indicate “trees”. This would make me more inclined to believe the Eren and Historia theory to be likely, simply because Historia is all the way back in Paradis and potentially Eren himself by transferring subconscious. To me it seems very likely the leaked final panel released by Yams himself is Eren holding a child rather than anyone else as whoever this figure is tells the child they are free and this could only relate to both Ymir and Eren, the ones who sought freedom. This could mean in this instance Levi and Mikasa are the ‘gods’, the ones with the power to restore and mend, again through the concept of the Ackerman Gene being more than what meets the eye. Ymir will be reborn ultimately and no longer enslaved as will Eren. 

Ragnarok and Shingeki no Kyojin combined have connotations of ‘fate’ being a big part of their depths. It is fated. Everything is. Just like Eren’s death and potentially ability to be reborn into another timeline. Just like Eren’s fate to obtain the founding titan and attack titan, both very powerful titans in the manipulation of time and events. Eren makes a statement around chapter 123 in Paths when talking with Zeke that if someone tried to take his freedom, no matter who, he would remove theirs. That he has been like that since birth because he was “born into this world”.

Zeke: “Since birth?”

this further implies fate. He was born free, he expresses detest for people who aren’t free and bound by something, 2000 years, Ymir etc. This only ties together if Eren himself in past lives was someone with the same views and personality traits, like Mikasa, except hers are the opposite. Paths has always been there and everything that has happened in the past is imbedded within its clutches through Ymir. These two titans needed to be combined, Grisha was informed by Eren himself through Kruger and future versions of himself that he had to obtain the founder or nothing could be changed. Grisha is even seen asking Eren to show him everything that happens, whether carla dies etc. He did not have full control, this was made for Eren’s inhabitant period and he did not have access to all memories due to only being able to access the ones the future successor sends back in time. Like the mirror scene for example, Eren is speaking to someone else, not himself. Grisha was only instructed to go within the walls and have a family. Eren was instructed to save everyone. Remember that the common rule with time is that you cannot change the past or it significantly alters the future.

I believe all the memories (the ones we are seeing even now) are actually in paths, the story has always had an indication it is being ‘narrated’ by someone - in most instances this is Armin. This has implied he will survive into the future, but that others may not. How this will happen...I can only theorise that Ymir will factor into who lives or dies. She will need to leave paths however, the only way the titan curse will end is if she leaves and no one is there to build titans. She will be either reborn to capture her freedom or reborn through Eren for them both to obtain the same dream. There has been multiple theories that some other titan other than the attack titan could be the key or another character, like that of the Ackermans or armin for example as I do think the trio concept is likely. But, remember the manga is called “Shingeki no Kyojin” meaning “the attack titan” - its always been the key and Eren is that key...again, key? Eren. scarf? Mikasa. Equals symbolism.

At the end of the day, the characters who I feel personally will tie together the ending are Eren, Ymir, Historia and Levi, Mikasa, Armin - both trios on different sides of the coin. Just remember, this isn’t the type of story where the characters get what they desire and that they could die without obtaining these desires. Erwin died before learning the truth of the outside world. Hanji died. Sasha died, Niccolo lost her. Floch did not live to see Eldian rule. Levi may have killed Zeke, but what for? He killed a different version of him, not the one who murdered innocents in Shinganshina. Levi lost every attachment of his. Mikasa lost Eren. I’d be angry and sad for him, but Eren also could lose his freedom by striking a deal with Ymir for her own freedom. But! he could free the world and his friends through both Mikasa and Armin, the chain will break, the titan curse will end and he will cease to exist or be lost in Paths dormant, unlike Ymir for 2000 years. This would be a good culmination of Eren’s character, extremely heart breaking, but fitting. A character who only sought freedom for humanity. He is humanity’s hope after all. Remember, Kaji Yuki (Eren’s Japanese voice actor) expressed extreme sadness at learning Eren’s fate from Isayama. It has always been a manga that indicates a bittersweet ending, so this could also be highly likely. (Eren is my favourite character...so this guts my heart from my chest)

To conclude, these are merely my own speculation of the final events within 139 and although sad of its ending, my excitement for this final instalment knows no bounds. I can only wish for the best and I know Isayama will deliver. 

[mc-critical]

Hi darling, Idk if you talked about this before, but what do you think about Rumeysa (Mustafa's concubine)? Do you think they planned to make her Mustafa's wife untill the actress was changed? And also, if she would've become his wife, how do you think she'd act in comparison to how Mihrunnisa (queen) acted? We didn't really see a lot of her but I wanted to know what do you believe they wanted to do with her character

Hey, dear! 🤗 No, I haven't talked about Rumeysa in here. I'll cover the S03 one and the S04 one separately, because in practice, they're both very different characters.

I strongly dislike S03 Rumeysa as a character, to be brutally honest. She goes all good, nice and innocent, when secretly she's sneaky and even manipulative in order to fulfill her goals. The thing that annoys me the most is not necessarily her fixation on Mustafa and how she wants to get him, because after all, it's a harem and everyone wants to get him, but how nearly inexplicable her whole motivation is, in spite and outside of that.

I feel Rumeysa's arc could be split in two almost separate halves - her set-up in the harem (pre-E93) and her as a favorite in the harem. (post-E93). The most interesting things about her were precisely her set-up and backstory. The way she was sent to the harem, the way she was tied to signora Gabriella, the way both of them were about to reunite and when that happened, Rumeysa was just confused more than anything... The idea of sisters finding each other within these harem walls was fascinating, but that was seemingly dropped. I feel even from this point on that the show tried to make a case of a person who's been long in the harem and has lost the touch of a free life to the point of being afraid to leave, but her confusion on the signora and her refusal to go with her was the only part they pulled off. (not to mention they executed that concept much better with Sümbül!) Then begins the second half of her arc that went in another direction the writers didn't succeed to make me get. I didn't get why she wanted Mustafa so much. She said she wanted and appreciated Mustafa a lot and that was why she wanted to leave and this trainwreck began all of a sudden! That doesn't make any sense! She had no (or at least not pivotal) scenes with Mustafa before E93, she neither experienced a desire to get Mustafa, nor was it shown to the audience in any way before the convenient moment. Her build-up was never about Mustafa before then. Her arc was never about Mustafa before then. And yet Mustafa became the center of her character, to the point it's as if they were like: "let's have another woman for Mustafa, but this time with an even more overexaggerated you might think it was Turhan Hürrem-esque arc, so we can make her his full on woman!". She was paving her way through sneaky methods to the point of hypocrisy for no reason, she didn't even have much of a threat, either. Ayşe Hatun put pressure on her once in a while, but it felt understandable when she had a child from Mustafa and that, Rumeysa started acting this confident just like that. I get that in the harem you have to be sorta like that in order to survive, etc., but with Rumeysa that wasn't enough of a motivation! She seemed just fine under Mahidevran and taking care of Nergisşah before then, she could calm people down, what happened? And notice how in the second part of her arc these scenes were lowered to the minimum, or recontextualized, at the very least, so you can't buy anything with her anymore.

But wait, what if she always wanted Mustafa when she arrived? Then every moment of kindness she has shown, even to the little child, becomes even worse in retrospect, because it would either just suit her interest, either become a jarring contrast with what she has shaped up to be. But wait actually, that effect is achieved even without her arc being split in two halves! I would've sympathized with her much more if there was some additional motivation, like everyone else basically, but honestly, the harem excuse is all we could use with her and in her case, that just doesn't suffice, especially for such a big shift in storylines. And then after building up to a halvet, we had the halvet and it was over and left me very unsatisfied. (okay, that's probably because of the actress, but still)

She was screwed up spectacularly at best and downright horrible at worst. Her early concept was way too good to be left out like that and since that leaving out was maybe inevitable for the writers, they had to do this transition better and have the first half of the arc be focused on Rumeysa, as well as Gabriella, instead of making this whole line with her being Gabriella's sister she was searching for more of a plot twist than an organic build-up, because Gabi was the one click baited to want Mustafa! This character ended up being defined by her goal she was trying to fulfill and nothing else, not any redeeming quality whatsoever.

I think Rumeysa was the least suited woman for Mustafa, yes, even less than Fatma. Because if Fatma had some love for him and was genuinely trying to calm him down after Efsun at first, with Rumeysa we simply had steps to get him right from the start and an entire ordeal that wouldn't sit well with Mustafa. We didn't even know not only why she wanted Mustafa, but also what was it she had with Mustafa - was it love, was he just a vessel for her to rise in the hierarchy (that's probably it for me), what was next when he was all hers etc. We have no feelings, no insight here and Mustafa himself was only slightly intrigued at best. And even if she were there for the battle of the throne, she would definetly scheme even more actively than anyone else and that would seriously clash with Mustafa's desires. I don't think she would suit S03B Mustafa's level of maturity, either.

Yes, I would say S03 Rumeysa could very well be the endgame for Mustafa and become his wife if it wasn't for the actress leaving and stuff, because of how she was framed to succeed. This part of Rumeysa's arc existed in a vacuum, it was a tiny victory after a tiny victory due to sly thinking that she was always allowed to get away with somehow. Again, the way she was slowly, but surely getting her way reminded me of all the Hürrem-esque arcs in the series that did end up with these women becoming the total favourites and I wouldn't be surprised at the least if they kept that pattern of success with Rumeysa, since it was very present in her arc.

[While we're at it, I didn't get why Mahidevran believed her so much. On one hand, yes, character development, because, as seen with Mihrünnisa later, as well, Mahidevran no longer gets suspicious of the nature of these women and only intervenes when she sees a decision of Mustafa's regarding them that could potentially be dangerous for his future, coupled with the fact that Mahidevran values loyalty a lot and she has seen nothing but that with Rumeysa. But on the other hand... Mahi is usually so perceptive when it comes to women that could actually be problematic or dangerous for him and Rumeysa being the only exception then was as much character development and the chance of lowering her guard because of the calmer environment as it was.. way too convenient, since we saw Rumeysa was playing a game behind the curtain. Especially the situation when Rumeysa provoked Ayşe Hatun on purpose for Mahi and Musti to see and Mahi not listening to Ayşe or Fidan's warnings about Rumeysa, along with her fully adapting to the harem laws she was previously against and taking on her role as a Valide in Mustafa's harem, was almost like Plot Armor for Rumi similarly to how Hürrem acted accordingly when she saw SS listening to her in the candle mirror in E44, albeit in the opposite way. I view that as a clear recipe for narrative favor and I was appalled that it had to be with such a character.]

If S03 Rumeysa became his wife, I don't see her acting much like Mihrunnisa. First off, due to how her arc was framed, Ayşe Hatun would have very much stayed as an antagonist of hers (even though Rumi wouldn't view her as one in their confrontations) and would try to eliminate her in a secret, subtle and cunning way. While Rumeysa would definetly try her all to keep Mustafa safe and would try to win Mahidevran's support for the marriage the way Mihrunnisa did, Rumi would have more of an agenda of her own she would follow. I won't be surprised if she tried head down on the path to overpower them all in her influence of him, either. Mustafa and Mihrunnisa were partners more than anything, with the same ideals, aspirations and desires. They were very close in their way of thinking and how they would approach problems, that's why they had such a deep bond. S03 Rumeysa would get further and further away from Mustafa's personality as his wife and if the other S04 events are canon, she would probably indeed go and reveal Bayezid's marriage with Huricihan the moment Mustafa refused to and act herself instead.

S04 Rumeysa is barely there, but I like her a bit better. She is an entirely different character with her consistent worries for the future, her more caring and protecting nature and even Mahidevran's more "I'm fed up with all this" attitude to her. Even if we add S03 Rumeysa to the mix, we get at least more feeling out of her and what was she all about and we get some other contrasting facets of hers as a bonus: in contrast to Rumi calming Mahidevran down when Mustafa disobeyed SS's order in E91/2 (my favourite S03 Rumeysa scene, but it was also kinda ruined post-E93), now Mahidevran tells her not to worry so much. Thing is, S04 Rumeysa could very well work without S03 Rumeysa both because of the different actress and the different characterization that could only loosely recontextualize S03 Rumeysa at best, and since there was a time skip, some random concubine and favourite Mustafa slept with and she became pregnant wouldn't be out of the question at all. Yes, her death would probably have less impact that way, but nor could I ever bother with S03 Rumeysa, nor would it be weird because of her different dynamics, which made her look almost foreign in comparison. (that's not on the actress, both Rumeysas were great!) And it would be as impactful as it would've been for Mustafa and Mahidevran, because the loss of the child would be just as devastating for him and was still tied to the mirror of sin.

If S04 Rumeysa didn't die and became Mustafa's wife, I think their bond would be focused more on their future child than anything. Rumeysa would probably act similarly to S03 Ayşe Hatun, only in a more secure position, I see a lot of similarities there. I don't think their bond would be as deep, but they could have the chance to get close for a little bit. I see Rumeysa refraining from acting so much, because of her worrying for the consequences, but when that fear gets the best of her, she could take desperate measures.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Miraculous Spite: Double Monkey Dare

It was all Kim’s fault.

After the Chameleon battle, Marinette had been fully willing and able to finally out Lila for the rotten liar she was. But Adrien stepped in and stopped her. Despite knowing the truth, he saw fit to protect Lila and encouraged Marinette to take the high road in some sad hope that Lila may at some point decide to become a better person on her own.

Marinette truly doubted it, but she’d let the boy dream.

Still, it had been the end of the school day. Things had…sort of worked out. The seats were changed back, at least, and she got to sit next to Alya and behind Adrien again. Alya had even reassured her that she wouldn’t let her sit alone, so it seemed she was still in her corner.

But after school let out and Lila’s declaration of “war”, Marinette was uncertain. Given the lengths Lila had gone to previously to get to Adrien specifically—stealing his book, buying the necklace, claiming to be the Fox hero...it showed the girl could be crafty and that she was fully willing to go to extremes to get her way. And that was all out of the desire for Adrien to LIKE her.

What would she do to someone she wanted to get rid of?

Marinette had brushed off Lila’s threat at the time, but truthfully, she was worried. And given how quickly everyone had jumped on her over something as simple as not wanting to be moved from her seat when she really didn’t need to be, it seemed she had just cause to be worried.

What would Lila do? How far would she go? How much would it take for Lila to successfully turn everyone against her?

Marinette wanted to believe the best in her classmates, but none of them—not a single one of them had even really listened to her.

Though…maybe it had to do with her method?

But how could she convince them of the truth? Or at least get them to doubt Lila? Even if it’s a little, just as long as it’s enough to not automatically believe her if she tried to spin some false story about Marinette?

She puzzled over this. Uncertain. Worried. And feeling guilty because she knew she should trust her friends more than that…

Even if they hadn’t trusted her.

It was in this state that Kim happened upon her.

Kim, for his boisterousness, was more insightful than people gave him credit for. The incident at the zoo notwithstanding. Or the incident with Chloe. Or the other incident with Odine.

…shut up.

Regardless, Kim saw Marinette standing in front of the school and looking rather put out. Which naturally gave him concern.

“Hey, Marinette! You okay?”

She jumped at the call and turned to face him. “Yeah! I’m…I’m fine!”

Yeah, he didn’t need to be Max’s level of genius to see that was a lie.

Kim rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. “Look, I wanted to apologize.”

She blinked up at him in surprise.

“I know things got a little rough today with Lila’s return and all.” He explained. “It wasn’t cool how you were the only one who didn’t really get to pick where you got to sit. And looking back, we kind of pressured you into it.”

He placed both hands on her shoulders.

“I want you to know that I’ll listen if you need anything.”

She smiled at that and he couldn’t help the grin in response.

“Thanks, Kim. That means a lot to hear.”

“No sweat!” He assured her. “Lila is cool and all, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to the class. No matter what she says, you’re still amazing and you need to remember that.”

She gave a huff, seeming both touched while also frustrated. “I just don’t know what to do. I know she’s lying. I can even prove it. But it’s like everyone automatically believes her no matter what she says.”

He didn’t know about that. And while he wasn’t sure that Lila was being dishonest, it was clear that Marinette believed she was. And he couldn’t bring himself to assume it was simply about Adrien.

Kim may not be the brightest banana, but he sure as heck noticed the wary look the blond was sending the Italian girl whenever she got too close.

“I don’t know if she’s telling the truth or not.” Kim admitted. “But if she is, you of all people would be able to prove it.”

She frowned, uncertain.

He grinned. “Cheer up! If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re always able to rise to the challenge, whatever it may be.”

It was that word.

That one word that sparked an idea.

And an idea that would change everything.

_________________________

The next day, Marinette approached Alya and Nino yet again in an attempt to convince them of Lila’s lies.

Only this time, she had a plan.

“Look, we already fixed everything from yesterday. There’s no need to be upset with her anymore.” Alya insisted.

“Yeah, can’t we just be friends?” Nino beseeched.

Not while Lila was waiting in the wings to do who knows what.

“I’m telling you, she’s a liar!”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Girl, really! Just let it go.”

“No!” Marinette shouted, surprising everyone but herself most of all.

However…

She couldn’t back down now.

Her eyes narrowed and she stared down the other two with sheer determination.

“If you really think Lila is telling the truth…if you are really going to believe her over me…” She took a breath.

“Prove it!”

Both Alya and Nino’s eyes widened.

“What?!”

Marinette glanced back and forth between the two, her gaze steely. “You said you believe in her. That you absolutely trust her, right?”

Alya frowned, but nodded. “Of course!”

Nino seemed uncertain, but nodded in agreement with his girlfriend.

“Then prove it.” She repeated. 

If there was one weakness that all of the students in Bustier’s class shared, it was an inability to refuse a direct challenge. It was the reason why Kim’s dares had gone on so long and gotten so out of hand to the point it took a direct challenge from Alix to dare him to stop just to get a reprieve.

They were unable to resist accepting any sort of dare or bet. Especially if they were sure they would win.

Though how true that surety actually was might be up for question…

“How much would you say you trust her?” Marinette asked them.

Alya balked, though remained steadfast. “I put her on my blog, so of course I trust her. I’d stake my blog’s reputation on it.”

Nino laughed, albeit a bit nervously as he wondered just what Marinette was getting at. “I’d bet my hat on her.”

The girl in question placed both hands on the desk, shifting her weight and leaning forward towards the couple. “Then I’ll make a bet with you.”

Nino balked. “Hold on! I thought dares were Kim’s thing?” And that they weren’t going to happen anymore since he lost that race with Alix…

That didn’t seem to deter her though.

“Well, if you’re certain that Lila is telling the truth, then it shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” Marinette asked with a smile.

It was the sort of smile smart people knew to back away from.

Alya and Nino were smart, but they were also teenagers and prone to disregarding sense.

“So what’s the bet then?” Alya asked. “It’s clearly about Lila, right?”

Marinette nodded. “And to prove once and for all whether she’s telling the truth or not.”

“We’re in.” Alya stated.

Nino gaped at his girlfriend. “What?!”

She shrugged at him. “If it’ll get Marinette to get over her hangups and let us all hang out together, then I’ll do it.” She turned back to her friend. “What’s the dare?”

“Simple enough.” Marinette replied. “We’ll each have the rest of today to collect evidence. Then when we meet up again tomorrow, we’ll present what we find. You bring anything you can find that backs any of Lila’s claims while I’ll be bringing anything on my end that disproves them. We’ll each present the evidence to see wether Lila is telling the truth or not. If more evidence comes out in her favor, then we’ll all accept she’s telling the truth. And if more evidence comes out against her, we’ll all accept she’s lying.” She smiled politely. “Does that sound fair?”

“Sure.” Alya agreed with a grin. “And when I win, you’ll apologize to Lila for accusing her.”

“Now hang on…” Nino started, only to be cut off.

“If I lose,” Marinette agreed. “I’ll apologize to Lila for calling her a liar and even bring a cake for the entire class as an apology.”

She raised a finger. “In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal. Alya, if it turns out I’m wrong, I’ll make you a dress free of charge. And Nino, I’ll bring you free pastries every day for a month. Because that’s how sure I am that Lila is a liar.”

Nino perked up at that. “Well, if you’re offering…”

Alya smirked. “If it turns out you’re right, I’ll remove Lila’s video from my blog.”

Marinette looked unimpressed. “But you would do that anyway if you knew it was false.”

Alya growled and slammed her hand on the table. “Fine! Then just to prove how much I believe Lila, I’ll replace it with another video of me doing something silly. Your choice of what.”

That made Marinette’s eyes widen. She hadn’t planned it to go that far. “Um…you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

She winced. “You…really may want to pick something else.”

The other girl shook her head in clear refusal. “That’s just to show my faith. And besides, don’t you want some payback for those instagram pics?”

Well, not that Marinette was going to say anything or let it influence her bet, but…

“If you’re sure. But I’ll let you just get me a roll of fabric of my choice as a second option.”

“I won’t need it!”

Both girls then turned to Nino, expectantly. The boy took a breath. “Okay. Um…well, if I’m wrong about Lila, then you can have my hat.”

Marinette frowned at that.

“Are you sure you want to do that? That’s kind of permanent.”

“Nah, I trust Lila. And I know the two of you would be great friends if you gave her a chance. Just like me and Adrien.”

It was clear that Marinette was trying very, very hard not to make a face.

“But tell you what, I trust her enough that you can take my hat and design me something else to wear however you want. I’ll wear it for a month. How’s that?”

Marinette gaped. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

Nino shrugged. “If I’m standing where I am, I’m going to stand fully. Besides, you won’t make me wear anything too crazy, right?”

Silence.

Nino started to sweat.

“Right?”

“Deal then!” Marinette chirped. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to see what we’ve found. Good luck!” And with that, she practically skipped out of the room.

“Hey wait! Mari, come on!”

_________________________

The next day, several strange things happened.

Nino arrived to school looking nervous.

Alya arrived looking smug.

Marinette arrived to school with a briefcase full of papers that had Nino looking much more nervous and Alya looking decidedly less smug.

“Are you sure you don’t just want to buy me a new roll of fabric?”

“No. Just leave me with my dignity.”

“Nino, you okay?”

“Just…just let me have two more minutes…”

Nobody knew what was going on between the three. Except for Kim. He was apparently the judge of their little contest and clearly thought the whole thing was hilarious.

When he wasn’t laughing outright, he was making cryptic and slightly disturbing comments about Marinette being his “apprentice”. No one else understood what he was talking about, and they weren’t sure they wanted to.

At the end of the day, Marinette left the school in a downright chipper mood and with Nino’s hat in hand.

Three days later, Nino was wearing a new hat entirely covered in hot pink sequins and glitter while a video of Alya performing “I’m a Little Teapot” was trending online.

[soradragon]

Sugary Comfort

Art’s not mine I found it and credit goes to the wonderful owners of this master piece of a drawing!

First Mikey x reader! I am proud and content with this one!

Thank you my sweet new beta reader for helping me edit this fic I love u and your amazing! <3

Warnings: sensory overstimulation in the beginning, lots of fluff, one pun

Mikey x f! reader

Check out my main masterlist if you liked what you read and wanna read more!

If you want to be tagged in the upcoming fics don’t be afraid to ask me! ^^

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~

You gazed at the reflection of a girl. She looked utterly exhausted; bags under her eyes like she hasn't slept in ages. 

Her lips were tilted up in a sneer; it was evident that she was repressing the urge to scream. But instead of giving in to the voice begging her to do just that, she drove her foot through the water's surface. Not only disfiguring the reflection of the girl, but also dirtying the dress you nitpickingly chose to wear this day. At the time you felt beautiful wearing it. Proud that you chose the right clothes to fit with the dress, completing the look you wanted.

Now, you just didn't care.

You didn't feel pretty nor proud.

You choked out a sob, rubbing the back of your hand against your face harshly.

You wanted all the white noise to stop, wanted the crying to stop, wanted the searing headache to stop. Why couldn't time freeze? Then, maybe the chaos in your head would finally end.

You had tried everything you knew that normally should have worked. Out of all of the times for those methods not to work, why did it precisely choose now when it actually matters?

You followed all the steps. You even rehearsed the steps as you did them.

Step one: When you feel an episode coming, go to a quiet place with dull, even colours. 

You had almost dropped your project when you felt everything becoming overwhelming, muttering an explanation to your teacher before almost booking out of the school building, to the most calming place you could recall; the park.

Step two: Once you have found a quiet place, go sit down and use your headphones to block out all of the sounds.

The headphones did not work.

Your never-ending trains of thoughts took the place of the noise and multiplied it by two. 

Images that flashed before your eyes every time you closed them were too bright. You were unable to figure out the meanings behind the words your mind screamed at you. 

All of it only worsened the already painful headache.

After only a moment you tore the headphones from your head.

Step three: Try even your breathing, and count to ten to ground yourself.

This was the only step that worked. You managed to calm yourself and stop your ragged breathing but it took effort. It took two attempts of counting to ten before it succeeded.

This whole fiasco petered you out mentally and physically. You just wanted this unnecessary sensory to decrease and quiet down to at least a tolerable level. But alas, the world did not want to cooperate this time.

You sighed, casting your gaze to the heavens. 

The sky was beautiful this evening - painted in orange and pink - and you would have taken the time to admire it, had it been in a different situation.

After hearing a familiar yet obnoxious 'ping' coming from within your bag, you cursed under your breath. You snatched your bag from behind you crudely, zipping it open with a huff. As you turned it on, you flinched at the bright light of your screen.

One unread message from 'Mom.'

She was worried sick no doubt. You felt guilty for worrying her, and wanted to reassure her that yes, you were safe, but felt like trash and were in the middle of an episode that wouldn't stop. No matter how hard you tried, all the obnoxious and illogical sensory your brain's been picking up did not stop. Though, on the other hand, you just wanted to ignore the message and skip the whole situation of explaining everything altogether and just turn off the screen and put notifications on mute. You sent a quick 'k' to whatever she had messaged you and moved on to the mute button.

Your finger hovered above it when a notification popped up, causing you to hesitate.

One new message from 'The great Mikester dude!'

Without thinking, you pressed on the notification, staring with big eyes at the message he had sent you: Guess who and where dudette. :P

"Mikey." You gasped out, manoeuvring your head in all kinds of directions, eyes skimming all over the park, trying to find the one in question. You felt the tingling and buzzing feeling of hope and glee pool in your body, replacing the sadness and anger.

All problems were forgotten or pushed to the back of your mind.

The white noise died down suddenly when you heard a low thud and the slight rustling of leaves. 

There was no other explanation; they were here...You were sure of it. 

Only they could stop the chaos when everything else failed, though you didn't know how, nor the logic in it. 

You guessed it had something to do with their ninja nature or something. (Even though Donnie told you multiple times that it might have been because of the aura they carried with, them, being half turtle and all that jazz had its side effects on some humans, like how a pet could soothe its owner simply by being near them. You still blamed it on them being ninjas.)

With your mind settled down, you could think clearly again. 

You briefly acknowledged the fact that you most certainly were a dishevelled mess. Puffy eyes from crying, clothes covered in mud, and hair all over the place, considering that you've pulled and tangled your hair in frustration. Despite all of this, you didn't care.

You were too busy thinking of a plan to lure them - you guessed it was all of them, though it could be only Mikey - out of their hiding place.

You accidentally placed your hand on your phone, making it vibrate, and your hand shot back as if it had burned you. A few seconds after, a song piped up.  A lot of curses could be heard from the tree where the music came from, the leaves rustled like no tomorrow. Mikey fell out of said tree not long after, hitting the ground with an 'oof' followed by a groan. You stared at Mikey for a couple of seconds before doubling over in laughter as the realisation hit you:

You had accidentally called Mikey!

Well, it sure helped you find him!

You counted that as a win on your part. And it seemed that Mikey was on his own, for normally one of the brothers, cough Raph cough would have jumped out from their hiding place and scolded Mikey.

He rolled into a sitting position, giggling with you.

"Yo, dudette! Fancy seeing you here. Don't mind me dropping in," he said, peering at you with an expecting smile, seeming to wait for a reaction. 

It took you a hot second or two for you to catch on, eventually groaning at the pun and face-palming yourself for your delayed comprehension. He did jazz hands and everything.

The great ninja Michelangelo just punned...

You wanted to kick yourself, you completely forgot that April had warned you about Mikey using puns. She had messaged you not too long ago about how it was a "Big" (with capital B) mistake of Casey to teach Mikey "The Art of puns." For Mikey had become obsessed with them. - Throughout the whole exchange, Casey had managed to steal April’s phone a few times and messaged you some words. Three guesses which one was Casey’s input on the matter. - 

You had no clue what they meant with "mistake" throughout that whole exchange. 

You appreciated a good pun.

This was not a good pun. 

You could just imagine the brothers’ reactions to Mikey's newfound fixation: Raph screaming desperately for Mikey to shut up. Donnie being hella annoyed with something pressed against his (ears?) to drown Mikey out. Leo would definitely try to ignore him, probably without success, because you knew...oh, you knew Mikey would take every chance he got to make a pun.

Your heart went out for them. Needing to go through such torture was horrid, yet it was a funny sight to be completely honest. Not that you would ever tell them, heavens no.

You were not going to poke three bears with a stick - in this case, mutant turtles. You were not ready to die three separate times.

"Dude, that was so bad,” you said, making a face as if you had just been forced to smell Raph's feet. You still regret going through with that bet.

"Dude!"

Mikey frowned, throwing his hands in the air. You knew he wasn't really offended, just a bit pouty.

"It's the truth, dude," you retorted absentmindedly, casting your gaze from left to the right before it rested on your bag. Smiling slightly, you snatched it, hauling it over your back before turning back to Mikey who sat contently against the tree. 

"But," you emphasised the word by pointing your index finger in the air, "you can get better,” your grin widened as you spoke.

 “And I, Y/N, know how it's really done."

Mikey's pout vanished and a wide, child-like grin overtook his face. You had his full attention, as he observed you expectantly from his cross-legged position. 

The long uncut grass rippled towards and caressed Mikey, the blades of green curling slightly forward and creating an image of what looked like nature sheltering Mikey from the harsh reality outside of this garden of paradise. 

The green-filled branches of the tree hovered above him, leaves gliding down every now and again, covering Mikey in small dapples of shadow.

Dusk's hew engulfed the image before you in a soft purple radiance. Mikey's skin practically glowed, making him look like a forest fairy.

It was a captivating sight. 

You could mistake it for a painted fairy tale that had come to life. Whoever the painter was had made sure that each tiny detail captured the magic and beauty of the image before you.

A magic-filled world coexisting in the harsh one you stood in... what you wouldn't give to cast all worries aside and join that world.

You were so lost in the moment that you almost forgot to continue.

Shaking yourself free from the enchanting sight, you carried on, albeit flustered, "a-and I could, um, teach you a thing or two. If...If you want me to, that is."

Mikey almost jumped right in your face before the words had completely left your mouth. There were practically stars in his eyes! He actually looked really adorable.

"Really!? You would!? Y/N, you are the best!!"

Mikey engulfed you into a hug, his body nearly covering your entire body from the world.

You gave a chuckle as he kept his arms circled around you, letting you sit in his lap. You didn't mind at all, feeling cosy in his arms.

"Of course I would Mikester. It would be my pleasure!"

You raised your hands to Mikey's cheeks, giving them a couple of pats before you continued.

"That way, you have a reason to end patrol earlier so we can spend more time together," and it would give the others a break from the barrage of bad puns, but you didn't voice that out loud. 

Mikey seemed to agree. He didn't waste any time to establish when and where this 'class-session', as he called it, would be taking place. He wanted it to become, without a shadow of a doubt, a weekly thing, like movie night at the turtles’ place with everyone.

Mentioning movie night brought up some nasty memories of last time -the movie night itself wasn’t bad, just one of your episodes got out of hand -  and Mikey changed the subject promptly after seeing you wince slightly. 

He told you about all kinds of new skateboard tricks he mastered and invented.

After a little while - when everything had been said about skateboarding - Mikey started to eagerly talk about random topics, bringing up stuff like how his training went this morning or what he encountered on patrol. Just little things to draw more time spending in this position. You kept in mind that this peaceful moment couldn't last forever, for both of you would have to separate sooner rather than later. 

You needed to go home to your no doubt worried sick parents, before they would start search parties. And Mikey...had to wait till the next time you two could hang out. (Which wasn't as often as both of you desired)

You listened to his voice silently, only humming a reply whenever Mikey asked for your opinion, snuggling deeper into his embrace as you lost track of time. Drowsiness tugged at your consciousness, beckoning you to close your eyes and let sleep take over. The way Mikey held you close to him made you feel loved and safe, with you resting your head against his chest to hear his heartbeat. He rubbed soothing circles on your left shoulder with one hand, making it impossible to resist the urge to let sleep take you away to dreamland. 

You vaguely heard Mikey's voice murmur in your ear, "Sweet dreams, sugar muffin..." You felt soft lips brush against your forehead before sleep took you over.

*(*)(*)*

Michelangelo stayed seated for a little while longer, looking at your sleeping form with loving eyes. If the world would have let him, he would have stayed like this forever. Alas, the moment was broken when your mobile pinged inside your bag, vibrating like crazy.

Mikey panicked. Jumping to his feet (surprisingly without stirring you) without thinking. He opened your bag in such haste he had almost dropped you trying to grab the vibrating phone before it would wake you.

He sighed in relief when the phone stopped its obnoxious buzzing after he managed to keep you from falling. He shifted you gently onto one arm to hold you delicately, yet tightly to his chest, as if he was protecting you from the world around you.

Once he made sure you were nestled comfortably in his hold,  he glanced towards the device lying in his palm. Mikey held it at an arm's length.

One question drifted inside his mind: Who in their right mind would call you this late in the evening?

It was a question where he could get an answer, but Mikey didn't want to pry into your private life without your permission.

But the curiosity gnawed at him like he would do with pizza.

He shook his head and chastised himself for goggling the device longingly. "No, bad Mikey...Be the better man, you can do this," he muttered, moving to put the phone in your bag until your phone buzzed again, displaying the number of notifications on the lit-up screen.

It made him halt in his tracks. 

Mikey knew you were having a bad day today. After all, he saw you crying by the pond in the centre of the park. It was a mere coincidence, patrolling around the park at the time. He had seen you crying and decided right then and there that he would cheer you up. But he had no idea you had that kind of bad day. 

There were seven unread messages and three missed calls from your mother. All of them showed how worried she was about you, asking where you were and if you had one of your sensory overstimulation episodes.

Without really thinking about it, he typed a reply to your mother: Batteries died, was with a friend. Coming home through the fire escape forgot keys.

It wasn’t a  grammatically correct message, he knew. It was the best he could do with one hand and one thick tumb.

Mikey glanced towards you with gentle eyes and a soft smile after sending the message and put your phone back in your bag.

He moved you gently, holding you with both arms again and cradling you against his chest.

You, in turn, stirred and snuggled deeper into Mikey's chest, making his heart soar.

"Time to get you home, sugar muffins..." he whispered softly, brushing a couple of stray hairs out of your face.

Mikey moved swiftly yet precisely, ensuring you did not wake or feel uncomfortable during roof-top-hopping. You needed all the rest you could get; the bags under your eyes made him even more certain of the fact.

Your home came into Mikey's field of vision far too soon. Opening the window and laying you softly onto your bed felt too fast for his taste.

Mikey took extra care to tuck you in. He even attached a little note to your bag for you to find when you would wake up. 

He really wanted to stay longer, but the sound of your parents coming up the stairs told him it was time to go. He opened the door of your room slightly so your parents would know you were home. Michelangelo climbed through the window before your parents could see him.

He watched your parents turn on the light from a rooftop across your window. Your dad gave you an extra blanket before the two of them turned off the light and left your room.

Mikey stayed there on the rooftop for a little while longer before leaving, looking over his shoulder one last time and then he sprinted over the rooftops towards home.

*(*)(*)*

You found the note the next day. You smiled brightly at the words hastily scribbled on the pape. You texted Mikey a reply before you went to look out your window. Your eyes draw towards the morning sky, which was painted in a soft orange hue.  

You repeated the words inside your head, making you excited for the next time you would see your turtle in orange...

Yoo, dudette! Can't wait for the pun-session upcoming Friday! 

I'll pick you up at ten alright? It's a date! ;) <3

~~~~

Thank you for reading, and keep soaring high!^^

Forever taglist

@theincaprincess​ 

[divineluce]

The Champs || Frank & Luce

Timing: Flashback to August

Location: Soul on the Rocks & Al’s

Tagging: @frankmulloy & @divineluce

Description: New to the job, Frank gets to know one of the regulars. Luce is as charming as ever.

Warnings: Alcoholism

There was nothing particularly distinguishing about being one of many of White Crest’s bartenders, but Frank has learned that being one who knew how to handle Soul’s more rambunctious crowds afforded him a degree of influence, and that was even without the use of his pheromones. He also learned that Soul’s patrons would sooner bend under a firm fist than a kind word--of course a kind word from him was a force within its own right, so it was just as well that he was just as competent in wielding the former. Unfortunately for Frank, he liked the use of neither, and the result was a bartender who mostly communicated through monosyllabic grunts, and lost more fights than won them. But he kept coming back for his shift the following night with no complaints and no apparent scrapes or bruises and while his pacifist method served him ill in a brawl, he always got the troublemakers out, so they kept him on. As long as they kept paying him, Frank was happy to stay on. 

It was Frank’s second week into the job, but as far as anyone was concerned he was a regular fixture in the beer-soaked tapestry of Soul on the Rocks. In return Frank was also starting to recognise common faces; who was there for a drink, who was there for a fight, and who wasn’t meant to be there at all, then there was Creepy-Joe, and finally coming to the conclusion that Jake was a massive tool. His first memory of one, Luce, was not what she looked like, but of heat. Literally. And Frank, perpetually cold, was like a moth to  flame, conscious of his distance and yet unable to help himself all the same-- heat, and the stink of cheap tequila. He put another shot glass down in front of her, which was an anomaly in itself considering Frank never got near enough to anyone to actually put their order down in front of them, but rather slid it to them across the bar top from a safe distance of at least 6 feet. “Your fifth shot...or is it your seventh? Who’s keeping count.” He wiped his hands down on the towel that was draped over his shoulder. “You sure that’s wise?”

Like so many other nights before her, Luce had been looking to get fucked up the night she’d walked into Soul. After all the shit she’d been through, with the Ring, with Remmy and Erin and Adam and her sister… The horrible, terrifying fucking conversation she’d had with Nadia, or rather, whoever was controlling Nadia’s body. And, as the final garbage cherry on top of it all, they’d been excommunicated. The threat of death at the hands of some of the women she trusted most, at the hands of her mother? It had shaken her up. Their mother had done… so fucking little to keep them safe. She’d abandoned them, banished them, went along with the whims of the goddamn council. And, on top of it all, there was all the normal shit. She was hauling ass all day, every day, trying to stay afloat. Bills had been coming in non stop and it was all she could do to keep her head afloat. After getting out of a particularly long session of tattooing, Luce had headed straight for Soul on the Rocks. She needed alcohol. Lots and lots of fucking alcohol.

Waving a hand at the bartender-- a new guy, she’d seen him around a few times, but never paid much attention to him-- Luce took the shot with a nod. But, his question made her pause and Luce stared at him over the rim of the small glass. Glancing at him blearily, she stared at the shot glass full of tequila. Fifth or seventh was a good question. But fuck him for asking. “Not me.” She said, tipping the liquid down her throat. It hardly burned, but alcohol never really did. Perks of being a fire witch. Swallowing, she set the empty glass back on the bar and stared at him. “Do they pay you to ask if people’s drinking habits are wise?” She replied. 

He met her drunken gaze with his own measured one, undaunted and undeterred. Yet there was a softness that blunted the edge; the good intention behind a stern word, though Frank was never great at dishing out the latter either. He answered her blunt edge in the way he did with most harsh words: an untiring patience and sometimes even a smile. This time, it was a slight upward tilt to the corner of his mouth, as he relieved her of the empty shot glass. “No. They pay me to kick people out when they’ve had one too many, but I like to give them the courtesy of asking before I start lugging bodies out.” Well that sounded horrifically ominous. “Alive bodies. Obviously. Just unconscious--most of them are passed out by the time I get them into a cab.” Frank said with some good-humour, a trace of a chuckle on each word in the hopes of easing the slip of the tongue that was more menacing than he meant. “It’s a lot easier for everyone concerned if I just walk them out instead of carrying them, and it helps the driver find the right building when they’re awake enough to give the right address.”

Frank had his head tilted to one side, quietly observing the woman that sat in front of him. He recognised her to be a regular, he also noted that she seemed off today. Albeit an easy conclusion to make for anyone that used Soul as their regular haunt. Tonight she looked like she brought a history with her and it was etched across her brow, and in her eyes, in a silent language he was not versed in reading. The temptation was to ask if she was alright, but at the risk of making himself over-familiar, he said instead, “should I be getting a cab ready?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Luce let out a long sigh. Her fucking neck hurt from spending so long hunched over at the table. The piece had turned out great, just like all her work, but christ. It’d been five long hours of nothing but tattooing. So, a drink or five was what she’d wanted. Not some random bartender getting up in her business. “Lugging bodies, huh? Did I step into the funeral home on accident? This tequila or formaldehyde you’re pouring?” She joked, her words running together just a bit as she spoke. Shrugging, she sighed. Either way, it didn’t really matter much to her. She just wanted to get the fuck out of her head, at least for a little bit. And, with Nadia definitely not an option and Remmy… even less of one, Luce had gone for the old stand by. Alcohol. “Fair. Probably works out for the uber driver too.”

At his words, Luce shook her head. “I’m good.” She said, stubbornness apparent in her voice. She wasn’t dumb enough to drive-- she wasn’t interested in wrapping her 4x4 around a tree and having to deal with more fucking bills. But, she wasn’t ready to go back to Bea’s house just yet. Bea was never there anymore and Nell… who the fuck knew where Nell was most nights. Which meant that Luce would be alone. No, she wasn’t interested in going back to that place, the house that felt more like mausoleum than a home. 

“A funeral home is probably a lot cleaner for one,” Frank said, wiping a spill off the bar top as he does. In fairness, you need only step inside of the pub and he was sure that his point was made on first impression, and she seemed comfortable enough in her seat to suggest that she was a frequent patron of the establishment (that information alone had a whole story to itself). He was asked once why he bothered to clean the place up after the close if it was just going to end up being exactly as it was the following night. His answer was something along the lines of: he was more concerned with what the place might look like if he didn’t clean it up at all. “And if you can’t smell the difference between tequila and formaldehyde, let alone taste it, you are a lot more drunk than I thought.” There was a pause. “I mean...not that I would know what formaldehyde tastes like but I would imagine that it is significantly worse than tequila. Like, cancer-level bad. I would assume.” And this is where you shut up Frank. And fortunately for everyone, he does. Her reply hinted at a stubbornness that was both inherent and unyielding, and Frank’s been in enough fight to recognise those that he wasn’t going to win. Of course, that never stopped him from trying either.

 “Look,” he began, the single phrase intermingling with his exhalation until they became one, “I don’t know you. Obviously. So you do whatever you want. But I’m just saying, I’ve served people enough tequila shots to know that the solution to your problem—whatever that is—isn’t going to be found at the bottom of the fifth or seventh or fifteenth shot.” He concluded by collecting any abandoned and empty glasses, loading them onto a plastic tub to be brought out to the kitchen. “But like I said, you do whatever you want.” 

Snorting at the man’s joke, Luce’s expression sobered slightly at the thought of Erin. She didn’t know the funeral home attendant well, but she was very aware of the last conversation they’d had. Fuck. “I’d hope so.” She gestured to the stains on the bartop, the familiar wear on the wood grain, the slightly ripped and faded stools next to her. “Can you imagine a fucking wake in here?” She said with a slight curl of her lip. As the man continued to talk, she quirked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Sure you haven’t.” She replied before running a hand through her hair. She fucking… didn’t want to deal with the world outside the doors of Soul. For now, she could just sit and pretend like nothing was happening. She could joke and drink and push aside all the stupid fucking feelings and responsibilities that weighed down on her.

But, this shitty fucking bartender just kept talking. Talked about how drinking wasn’t gonna help her-- like Luce didn’t already know that. It wasn’t about helping her, or finding answers. It was about forgetting. Glaring at him, she drummed her tattooed fingers on the wooden bartop, her skin burning hot with simmering anger. “Yeah, you don’t know me,” She paused, the alcohol flowing through her system making her head spin slightly. Squinting at him, she shook her head. “Who the fuck even are you? Shit, I’d rather deal with Creepy Joe instead of some Pop Psychology bro.” She said with a grimace.

Frank took in her anger with a calm appraisal as he continued to dry the newly cleaned glasses with practiced efficiency. While most would reasonably shrink from the fire, he was almost somehow more drawn to it. Like moth to flame—quite literally, it felt as if heat was just pouring out of her in waves. He could not pinpoint exactly when this happened but his 6 foot rule had been abandoned and Frank was now standing close enough that he could touch her. He just needed to take his hand away from the glass, reach out across the bar, and touch her. Boy did he want to, and he almost did, but then she shook her head. Frank found himself almost doing the same as his attention was snapped back into reality and his focus was drawn back to the intensity of her glare. He took a conscious step back and realised with overwhelming awareness how much he did not want to. “Fair enough.” He resigned with a nod. He looked around. A quiet spell had settled over the bar, and the threat of a brawl was distant enough that if he was quick he could probably get away with ducking out the side door for a couple of minutes. He grabbed the towel from the shoulder and tossed it aside, from his jacket pocket he produced a small white cigarette packet.

“Keep drinking then, see if that helps you, I’m sure Joe wouldn’t mind the company. I’m going for some air.” An invitation could be heard in there somewhere; Frank was seldom ever cordial enough to properly extend the invitation…or any invitation. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re right. I don’t know you.”

What the fuck was up with this guy? He was leaning across the bar and, maybe the alcohol was messing with her depth perception, but he seemed way too close. Luce pushed back in her seat, just to get a bit of space between her and the bartender. But, he seemed to realize that he was being a fucking creep and backed off himself. Good, she didn’t feel like throwing hands with someone tonight. For one, she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to do, the alcohol clouding her vision and loosening her hold on the fire magic that dwelled within her. For another, she’d had… enough of fucking fighting lately. She just wanted to drink and sit and not think about all the shit that’d been going on in her life.

“Yeah, you don’t fucking know me.” Luce repeated. The bar wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but her anger had her blood boiling in a literal way. It was too goddamn hot in here. And fuck it, if this guy was going to be bartending at Soul, she might as well try and talk to him. Even if he was weird. The same could be said of most people in the bar, and of her too. Sliding off the barstool, Luce steadied herself on the bar for a moment has her vision swam. “But air sounds like a smart idea.” She said, more to herself than to him. Walking out of the bar, the cool night air washed over her. Thank fuck summer was over and done with. “Need a light?” She asked, leaning against the brick wall of the bar.

It seemed Frank’s entire existence was damned to fight his most basic instincts: to hand his customers their drinks, to close his distance when he was with friends (to have friends), to help steady a stranger who has had one too many drinks and was maybe not as steady on her feet as she first thought. Even as she swayed Frank did not so much as stir, even as every part of him itched to. He let her out first, following behind at a measured distance. “Look at that, a solution to your problem that isn’t alcohol.” He grinned around the stick of cigarette as he brought it to his mouth, “but what the fuck do I know.”  

The air was cool, and with the door closed behind him he was acutely aware of how warm she felt, even at his distance. He made home against a wall a little ways down from her, shaking his head at her offer with a polite thanks, “I’m good,” and he had to be. Mostly because if he wasn’t, that was an invitation for her to come closer, to hand him the lighter, and then for him to hand it back, and that was altogether too many hands for comfort. Frank didn’t smoke for the taste. He didn’t care much for the nicotine either. Like the alcohol, it never lingered long enough in his system to become a proper addiction, but with every inhalation of the hot smoke that was a few more precious moments between him and the undeniable hunger to feed, whether it was happiness or heat. Prolonging the inevitable, as he liked to call it. Not that he ever told anyone why he smoked, most of them were more interested in telling him why he should stop. Frank wasn’t interested in doing either. “So what is your problem?” He said finally, turning to face his new smoking companion, “you were downing your seventh tequila shot in a span of less than an hour in one of the biggest shit-holes in town. That could not have been an inspiring journey.”

“My solution to my problems so far,” Luce let out sigh, her breath coming out in visible trails in the mild fall night, “Have been paying the bills for you. So…. you should be thanking me.” She muttered as she pressed her back against the wall a bit more firmly. Her legs felt like jelly under her, courtesy of the tequila that ran through her system, as well as the run she’d taken earlier that morning. Running. She’d always liked running, but it felt like that was all she was doing now. Wake up, run, work, drink, and then collapse into bed, to try and snag a few fitful hours of sleep if she was lucky. And if she wasn’t lucky, she’d run and run and run until she was too tired to do anything else.

At his question, Luce glanced over at the man for a long minute before shaking her head. “Oh you know. The usual.” Being kicked out of her coven for resurrecting her sister from beyond the grave, nearly dying herself. “Family drama.” The fact that one of the women she’d been sleeping with had been possessed by a ghost, hell-bent on keeping her body. The fact that the other was a zombie who just kept getting themselves in fucking trouble? “Some people I care about have a knack for getting into trouble.” How she was so goddamn tired all the time? Well, that one she didn’t have to lie about. “Insomnia. Take your pick. All of them are good reasons to drink in the biggest shithole in this town.” She corrected. The Ritz Soul was not. 

“Right,” Frank’s mouth shaped into a smirk. A gesture accompanied by a faint laugh that almost, to perceptive ears at least, sounded like a scoff, “yours and everyone else’s in that damn bar.” The solution to most of Soul’s patrons, it seemed, was found either at the bottom of a glass or at the end of a fist, the former was usually a lot less messy. Neither seemed to make anyone any happier come day light. It was a temporary salve to a much deeper wound, and they come back the next night, and the ritual repeats itself again. Frank was no stranger to this particular practice and so, it seemed, was she.

Frank gave the woman a long, appraising look, as she proceeded to divulge the source of her problems. It was as vague as it was short, its details hidden by their unfamiliarity. He didn’t blame her, and a part of him wondered whether it was in his best interest to find out. Probably not. Distance, advised caution. He took a long drag of his cigarette, comforted by the warmth, and eased of his awareness of hers. She looked so tired—more than that, she felt tired. There was plenty of heat (strangely) but with his own cravings temporarily satisfied by the cigarette, there was not much happiness to be attempted by. He could feel the ache in her bones, the very weight of. He recognised it in himself. “Hmm,” his eyes returned to hers, attentive and empathetic. Oh he tried so hard to be hard, but he was always very bad at it, and worse at following his own advice. “You want a burger or something?”  He said very suddenly. “You look like you could use a burger.”

“Well, means business is booming for you.” Luce said glancing back into the bar through the dirty windows, her head listing as her body tilted just a bit more than she expected. Stumbling slightly, she caught herself on the wall. Her elbow smacked into her side, and she let out an involuntary yelp, “Siktir, motherfucker…” She mumbled, rubbing her side. Fuck, her head was spinning, the wall felt like it was shifting behind her back. And unless there was some new kind of fucked up wall monster that was going to… what, absorb her into the wall? No, she’d just drank too much. Again. It seemed like more mornings than not, she’d woken up with a foul taste in her mouth and started the morning with a few aspirin. Christ.

As the man looked over at her, Luce felt her lips tighten into a thin line. There was something she didn’t like about the way he looked at her. It felt like the way that people had talked to her when she’d revealed that Bea had died. Something halfway between pity and judgement, was what she would guess. And she didn’t really fucking want either. But, at the mention of food, her stomach growled loudly. Her stomach didn’t have the same reservations, apparently. “You know what? Sure. Why the fuck not, it’d be a quick walk. Al’s isn’t far from here.” She said, before remembering. Al’s. Celeste, she’d worked there before... Remmy, they’d had that conversation where they told her what they were in a booth tucked in the corner of the diner. Fuck. Maybe not Al’s. That’s what she wanted to say, but now her lips remained stubbornly shut. 

“Al’s it is.” Frank smiled. It was pleasant. Amicable. It was a smile that might have come paired with an offer of a hand to shake or an equally pleasant gesture, but since it didn’t (it never does) Frank had become practiced in making it so that a smile was just enough. Not that he got much use out of this particular skill. Most people couldn’t even get the slightest hint of an upward lift let alone a fully realised smile. Maybe it was his off day. Maybe because when he looked at how tired she looked he saw a reflection of himself. Whatever it was, it remained there as he pushed himself off the wall, extinguishing the last of his cigarette under his boot. Kindness was in short supply in a place like Soul, and this served as a good reminder that Frank was not the place he worked at. Which reminded him—“oh and by the way, when you say business is booming for me, you do realise that just because I serve the drinks there, doesn’t mean I actually run the place, right?”

The walk, as she remarked, was blissfully short, and quiet. This served Frank just fine considering he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, even if his previous insistence might suggest otherwise. She also seemed absent, as if occupied by distant memories, he didn’t need to see the downward tilt of her mouth to know that they weren’t pleasant, he could sense it. He could also sense that no talking, at least on his part, was going to make anything better, although some carbs to soak up some of the seven tequila shots she’d knocked back in the few short hours might. Thankfully Al’s didn’t host a great many customers in the early hours of the morning. “Get a booth,” he told her, which shouldn’t be any hardship considering only one or two were currently occupied, “and get whatever you want. You look like you could use it...no offense.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m familiar with the dickhead who owns Soul.” Luce replied as she made her way down the sidewalk, her feet stumbling slightly as she walked. It was fine. This was fine. The way the world was rotating around her, the way the pavement seemed to rise and fall like cresting waves? Totally fucking fine. She was good. So fucking good. Just another fucking day. “You’re a bartender. Tips. More people, more tips. I know half the guys in that bar and they tip just fine when I work on them.” She said, the words coming out in more of an innuendo than she intended. “Tattoos.” She explained, gesturing to the dark ink that covered both of her arms. “I do tattoos.”

As they entered the diner, Luce looked around at the place-- it wasn’t all that busy, which was good in its own way. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She growled before deliberately walking over to the counter and settling down there. Across the way, Luce heard a startled cough and, before she knew what was going on, a young man had tossed a twenty on the counter and was hurrying out of the door. She spun around in the plastic seat, scrutinizing the man as he hurried away. The light of the diner caught on his face as he opened the door of his car and Luce’s stomach lurched. Will. One of the members of the coven-- her mom’s coven, the coven that had… “Fuck.” She muttered, shaking her head doggedly. She wished she was back at the bar. As the waitress cast a skeptical look at her, Luce quirked a crooked smile. “I’d like a number five. Extra fries. And a large water, please.” As the bartender sat next to her, Luce cast him a long look. “I’m paying for this myself.” She didn’t need his charity.

Frank grinned, but his laughter remained stifled, the only hint of its existence was in the silent vibration of his entire frame. Tips. At Soul on the Rocks. Now that was a joke. “Right, see…Soul is known for a lot of things, but never for their generosity, especially when it comes to tipping their bartenders.” This was not entirely fair. Of course Frank could, as she did, work on them. Being what he was, he could have probably completed the task with even greater success, and with the profits to prove it. Alas, that was never Frank’s style. In his short time working there, he had already created an image of himself as the grumpy new bartender that would sooner bite your hand off than shake it. This was not an accurate assessment of his character by half, though it had more truth in it than Frank pretending to be pleasant and charming. He was bad at it, and he didn’t have the taste for it to try and be better. He turned to her arm as she gestured toward it. “It looks nice.”

Her sharp demand elicited an amused grin as she pushed past him toward the counter. He might have said something, a smart ass reply already half way formed on his tongue, were it not for another stealing his attention. A young man, his plate and drink unfinished, tossed some notes on the counter and hurried out. Strange. More interesting still was the woman’s reaction. They knew each other, more than that, there was a history there. Very strange.  Alas, Frank said nothing on this, but noted it quietly as he pulled up a seat next to her (respectably distanced, of course). “She’s paying for herself, and I’ll have a black coffee. Thank you.” He said, handing over what he owed. The waitress accepted it with a very pretty smile. Frank acknowledged this with a single nod and did not notice the string of numbers scribbled on the back of the receipt, and what was most likely her name followed by the letter ‘x’. The coffee was the first to arrive, blissfully hot. He took a ginger sip, not because he was bothered by the heat, but normal humans weren’t usually as tolerant to scalding hot coffee as he was. “Odd reaction,” he murmured around the rim of the cup. His head tilted ever so slightly in the direction of the waitress who was just now collecting the bill left behind by the mysterious man. Or perhaps not so mysterious if the woman’s reaction was anything to go by, “a friend of yours?” He paused for a moment, “or maybe not so friendly?”

As the man explained his situation, Luce nodded in thanks as the waitress set a large glass of water in front of her. Forgoing the straw, she took a long drink of ice water, the temperature soberingly cold. Well, not sobering, she thought to herself as she regarded the slightly slanting walls of the diner. “You could always go for the ‘grin and bear it’ tactic.” She said, pressing her finger into her cheek and twisting it, offering a fake smile she reserved for her mother and particularly stupid clients. “You could try asking the boss-man to throw on a “Hey, if I’m gonna be an extra bouncer, pay me like one” bonus. Or don’t, whatever. It’s your wallet on the line.” At his comment about her tattoos, she nodded. “I know. I designed them.” It wasn’t a brag, not really, just statement of fact. She did her own shit and she was good at it. That was her whole MO, right? She stayed in her lane and did what she was good at.

Watching the way the girl cast a bright, beaming smile, Luce rolled her eyes. Did this guy think he was some kind of player? But, if he was, he didn’t comment on the receipt. He didn’t even really talk about it. Instead, he gestured towards the seat the Will had previously been sitting at. Scowling at the ice cubes in her glass, Luce’s knuckles flexed around the glass. “Family friend. Bit of a shit, but that’s how it goes.” She muttered, thinking back to August. He’d been a family friend, before he’d decided to come for her sisters. And now, he wasn’t much of anything at all. She could still remember the way he’d fallen to his knees, how he’d willingly submitted himself to Lydia’s commands. A shudder ran down her spine and she took another drink from her glass. “What’s your deal, huh? You like being some kinda… bartender Superman or something?” She asked, glancing over at him.

The twisted smile that warped around her mouth, strangely enough, inspired a more genuine one to shape around his own. “Yeah, the whole fake-it-till-you-make-it thing isn’t really my m-o.” Sure he could be reserved and withdrawn—cold and severe were a few more of the choice descriptors that people often had assigned to Frank. He could be a lot of bad things but one could never say that Frank was ever disingenuous. As much as he might speak ill of his work, which he does when he was ever in the rare position of wanting to speak at all, he’d rather it be him than another person who might be more liberal in using the end of their own knuckles to finish a fist fight. Even, as she rightfully pointed out, if it was his wallet on the line.

Her knuckles tightened around the glass, and her words bit into an old memory—an old wound. A small gesture, a small shift in tone, but neither went past Frank’s notice. Probably best if he kept that particular observation to himself, and he does. “Right. That’s how it goes.” Translation: sore subjection, duly noted. She sought comfort in her glass of water, and he continued to nurse the heat out of his cup of coffee, looking up only when she spoke again. An amused smile flitted across his lips, half hidden by the mug as he lifted it to his mouth, as he mentally traded his wings for a red cape, and his jacket for a blue costume with a giant S on it. He looked fucking ridiculous. “I don’t like being anything, I just want to do my job, get paid, and get the fuck home. Frankly if your standard for Superman is breaking up drunk bar fights, then it is tragically low. Besides,” he took another drink of his coffee and put it back down. It formed a wet brown ring around the receipt, he noticed for the first time black ink stains peering through the damp ring, but didn't bother investigating further, instead returned to the thought at hand, “you’re the one sitting next to me, what does that say about you?”

“You do you. Like I said, it’s your paycheck.” Luce shrugged. She didn’t give a shit, it was this guy’s loss either way. Didn’t affect her any, as long as he kept pouring her drinks. And, given how many she’d had at Soul, he didn’t seem to have a problem with that. The waitress slid her plate in front of her, a large burger with a mountain of fries on the side. “Thanks. Could I get more water, please? ‘preciate it.” Luce said before taking a large bite from her burger. As fucked up as she was, she wasn’t gonna be a fucking dick to people who were just trying to do their job. Which meant the waitress. But, Superman here? Different story. He at least had the sense to drop the fucking topic of Will. “Mhm.”

Glancing over at him, she raised an eyebrow. Swallowing her mouthful of food, Luce replied thickly, “That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” She pointed at him with a fry. “You just wanna do your job and go home? Unless you’re working double shifts between here and Soul, this,” She gestured to the two of them, “seems pretty fucking off the clock to me.” Luce said before popping the fry in her mouth.  Lifting her now full glass of water to her lips, she shook her head. “It says I’m drunk on a Wednesday night and I need more carbs. Needed.” She deflected, looking at her already half-empty plate. “I guess you were right about the burger.” 

Frank took a sip from his coffee, his eyebrow cocked up from behind the mug in a silent answer to her accusation. He didn’t say anything for a moment, mostly because he wasn’t sure how to, which probably meant that to a certain degree, she was right. Of course, just because he knew she was right, didn’t mean that he also knew the answer to why he did the things he did. Why he warned her against that seventh shot, why he invited her out for a smoke, why he would’ve probably paid for her burger too had she let him. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to find answers tonight. That was what he paid his shrink to figure out and then tell him about it so he could ignore it completely. Because caring for someone else was just too fucking hard sometimes. Caring for himself infinitely so. “Mhm.” Another sip from his coffee.

“I know.” She had positively tore through her burger. Frank exhaled a short, barely formed, chuckle. “I’m really good at my job.” She was also not the first drunk he’s had to deal with. Although, speaking of jobs, he also had his actual job to return to. Someone was bound to have noticed his absence by now…or not. It was Soul they were talking about after all. He finished the last of his coffee, scrunched up the napkin with the receipt and then dropped it into the now empty mug. He took out his phone from his pocket, pushed it across the space between them and drew his hand back. “Do yourself a favour, call a cab. Spare yourself that eighth shot and call it a night. If you’re lucky you might even hate yourself a little less in the morning.”

“Sounds like it.” Luce said as her eating began to slow, picking at her fries. Grudgingly, she had to admit that this guy had a point. He’d called her out on how fucked up she was. And, though the room still shifted around her, was still fuzzy at the edges, it was better than it had been. The water and food was making all the difference. As the waitress left her receipt on the counter, Luce glanced over at the tall bartender. Soul wasn’t a nametag kind of establishment and she hadn’t bothered to ask his name when she’d rolled up to the bar and ordered shot after shot. “What’s your name, anyways? I’m Luce.” She said, sticking out her hand. At his advice, Luce let out a small snort. A cab? What, and go back to Bea’s house? The house her sister hardly even stayed in any more? With all of it’s baggage and it’s memories and quiet, cold stillness? No fucking thanks. She was gonna crash on the couch at Ink Inc and call it a night there. But, Mr. Superman Bartender Bro didn’t need to know that. “You’re not wrong about calling it a night. Jury's still out on the hating myself bit.” She mused, the last sentence coming out of her mouth without her intending to.

“Frank.” He said, but didn’t take her hand. He almost did. The smoke and the coffee had offered some relief but it did little to distract from the fact that she was still very very warm, and never once did the awareness of her heat escape his notice. His hand hung awkwardly for a split second, unable to touch her but unwilling to pull away. He let his hand fall in the end, but by then the split second was a split second too long, though he managed to cover it by pushing the phone further toward her, as if he was meant to do that all along. He drew his hand back very quickly, and wrapped it around his coffee mug, clinging to any heat that may still be lingering. Jesus H, he always fucking hungry.

Frank could sense that her thoughts were not meant to have formed into words, and even as she said them, it didn’t look as if she realised that she did. That the guard that she had maintained through harsh words and sarcasm had cracks in them, and tender thoughts were slipping through, and she didn’t notice. Perhaps she was more drunk than he thought. Alternatively, maybe she was sobering up, and sobriety was a tiring thing to have to deal with. Frank doesn’t say anything, but he noticed. And now, she wasn’t just some drunk woman he would have sent home on a cab and forgotten about until the next night she came stumbling back into Soul (the way she spoke about it, it was obvious that she was a regular), she had a name. Names were powerful things, and terribly intimate. Frank squeezed his eyes shut, ran a hand over his face. “Or…I could drop you off. If you would like.”

“Frank.” Luce repeated. The name suited him. Short, to the point, and… well, frank. For a second, he left her hanging, as though he didn’t want to touch her hand but then seemed to think better of it. He nudged his phone closer to her which was fucking… Weird. He couldn’t just hand it to her like a normal fucking person. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand back from his and pushed it into her jacket pocket, pulling out her own phone. “It’s not the 90’s, I’ve got a phone of my own. I don’t need you to call anyone.” She growled, though the words lacked their usual bite. At this point, she was just tired. Tired of this town, tired of the well-intentioned people who kept trying to help her, and tired of the fact that she couldn’t do anything to change any of that. As he offered to drop her off, Luce scowled at him as she tossed a bill onto the counter. He really was trying to play that “Knight in shining armor” card, wasn’t he? First his phone, now a ride? 

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Luce stood up from the counter. “I think the fuck not. Listen, you seem like a decent enough guy, which is why I’m just gonna say, you’re barking up the wrong tree here.” She said, shaking her head. “Trust me, this is nicer treatment than what Jake got when he made a move on me the first time.”

Luce’s reaction was not an uncommon one. The registering of rejection as they realised he would not answer their offer of a handshake with his own, the confusion that inevitably followed because what person was that much of a dick to refuse a simple handshake? Sometimes even outright offence because who the fuck does he think he is? The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched. Perhaps he should attempt an encouraging smile. Jesus H. He had done this a hundred times before yet it never became any less tedious. For his efforts it seemed, rather predictably if her prior behaviour around him was of any indication, she seemed to follow the ‘outright offense’ route as she growled her reply. He thought it wisest to not add acid to fire and opted to silently pocket his phone instead, wondering all the while why he even tried in the first place. Why he kept trying.

She stood up. Very suddenly. He’d thought he was being kind, but clearly Frank wasn’t very good at it. He was silent at first and then, with a start, the weight of what she’d said came flying back to him. “Oh! Ohhh…no. I mean—” He stifled a laugh and it came out as a choked cough. Frank pressed a hand to his face and shook his head, a smile visible between his fingers as his shoulders quivered through a silent laugh. He should be offended that she had made the comparison with him to Jake of all people, but it seemed fatigue had imbued the whole misunderstanding with a strange sort of amusement where there usually wouldn’t be any. “Yes ma'am,” he said once he had recovered some degree of solemnity, “duly noted.”

[cerezsis]

The Missing Link

Chapter Three: Jia

Summary: Amon and the Equalists have taken over Republic City. No bender is safe. So why is one just out in the open?

--

           The empty streets of Republic City were even more desolate and hostile under the guise of night. Not even a week had passed since the Equalist’s terroristic takeover, but it felt like so much longer. Benders were being rounded up and taken to Amon every day. People caught protecting benders were also hauled away, taken to spirits knows where. It was a terrifying chapter in the city’s history, that much was certain. Their only hope now was the United Forces, and the Avatar.

           As she continued to drive down the slush-covered streets, the fifty-something-year-old woman spared a glance at the rear-view mirror. Her dark blue eyes looked so tired, fatigued by currents affairs. She longed for the comfort of her own bed, for her head to rest on her husband’s chest as they drifted off to sleep. That, however, wouldn’t come any time soon.

           As she was about to look back at the empty road, something caught her eye. Her stomach dropped and her grip on the steering wheel tightened as she realized what was coming up behind her.

           Monkey feathers!

           She tried to stay calm. Maybe they were just patrolling. Maybe they would leave her alone. However, as their motorcycles drew closer and closer, she realized she wasn’t to be so lucky. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off to the side of the road, stepping out of the car with her hands in the air.

           “What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady and without the fear she felt pulsating through her being.

           The two equalists got off their bikes. Judging by their builds, she guessed they were both male.

           “Identify yourself,” one of them ordered.

           “Kaida, daughter of Suki and former councilman Sokka, and owner and operator of Kaida’s Academy of Martial Arts and Self Defense. I’m a non-bender. What do you want with me?”

           The two men stood, taking in the information.

           “Kaida, huh?” the shorter equalist pondered, “We’ve heard of you.” He and his partner put their hands on the bolas they had stored in their belts, not drawing them but making sure the woman in front of them could see they had them. “And we’ve heard of your twin sister; the waterbender.”

          “We’re familiar with the whole family. Her husband’s a waterbender, their daughters are waterbenders, and your older sister’s firstborn is a firebender.” He paused as they both took a step closer, a clear attempt at intimidation. “Tell us where we can find them, and you’ll be free to go.”

           “I have no idea,” she said, still showing no outward signs of fear, “I haven’t heard from them since you goons took over.” She lowered her arms, looking the two men square in the eye. “And since you haven’t either, my guess is they’ve fled the city. I have no idea where they could be.”

           The two equalists looked at each other. Given the family’s high profile, it was common knowledge that the three who lived in the city weren’t the only sisters; the eldest of them lived in the Southern Water Tribe, and the second eldest lived on Kyoshi Island. Sure, they could still be in the city, but them having fled was equally possible. There was no way to be sure in that moment. They were at a standstill.

           “May I go now?” the ever-growing impatient woman asked, “It’s been a long day, and I’d like to go home.”

           The men nodded at each other and took their hands off their weapons.

           “Don’t think we won’t be talking to you again.”

           “Oh, I’m sure you will. Goodnight.” She turned around, reaching her hand out to open the car door. Seeing this, one of the equalists was hit with a realization. In one quick motion, he reached for his bolas, using it to grab the wrist of the woman in front of him.

           “What are you doing!?” the now taken aback woman demanded.

           “Uh, what are you doing?” the confused equalist asked.

           “Kaida is right-handed.”

           Her stomach plummeting, the woman looked down, seeing her left hand on the car’s handle.

           Before the other equalist had time to react, Jia sprung into action. Using her unbound hand, she took advantage of the damp streets, and in one swift motion, a sharp slice of ice freed her from the bolas’ grasp. She ducked down just in time for the other equalist to draw his weapon, aiming for her, but instead hitting the car’s window, shattering the glass.

           Kaida’s gonna kill me for that, Jia cringed.

           Maneuvering her way out of the attack range, she bent as much water off the streets as she could. Immediately, she realized it wasn’t enough. As the men in front of her swung their weapons, she knew this was a fight she couldn’t win. She was outnumbered, low on ammo, and not to mention, there were pressing matters at hand.

           “I don’t have time for this!” the waterbender shouted as she thrusted what little water she had at the men, knocking them down. “You know who I am! You know my profession! One of my patients is showing signs of pre-eclampsia, and I need to get to the hospital!” She swallowed hard. There was only one way out of this fight – one way they’d let her do what she needed to do. “If you let me attend to me patient, if you let me save mother and child… I’ll go with you willingly. I’ll surrender and allow Amon to take my bending.”

           She studied the men closely. Though she couldn’t see their faces, she could tell by how long they looked at each other that this was a first for them.

           “Do we have a deal?”

           The seconds passed slowly, too slowly for Jia’s liking. Finally, they nodded at each other and stood up.

           “There will be no funny business from you tonight,” one of them said, “If you double cross us, we know where to find your sisters. We will find them, and we won’t have mercy on them, or their children. Understand?”

           Jia nodded. “We’ve wasted enough time. I need to get to the hospital.”

           She walked past them, appearing as calm as ever as she got into the now damaged car. The two equalists got on their motorcycles, and they followed her to the hospital. Jia pulled into the staff parking lot, parking the car in the first spot she found. It wasn’t as packed as it usually was, the missing cars, Jia quickly noticed, all having belonged to the waterbending staff.

           As she stepped out of the car, the equalists hopped off their bikes, following her as she made her way to the staff entrance. With the door just a few feet away, she suddenly stopped and turned around.  

           “Oh no, absolutely not. You’re not coming in here.”

           Even without seeing their faces, Jia knew they were glaring at her.

           “And why is that?”

           “Why? This is a hospital, not an Equalist hangout! We may have a deal, but I will not compromise patient safety and privacy.” She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing into a glare. “So, unless you plan on holding the placenta for me, you’re not coming in.”

           The two men cringed, very clearly disgusted as they glanced at each other.

           “Remember what I said earlier,” the taller equalist said, his composure coming back to him, “We will find your sisters if you double cross us. We’ll be waiting for you right. Here.”

           “Oh, of course.” Her arms fell and she held them behind her back. “Now if you excuse me, I have a job to do.” She spun around, turning her back to them as she walked through the double doors.

--

           The rush of the running water was the only sound in the hospital locker room. Scrubbing her hands vigorously, Jia looked up at her reflection. Her dark brown hair was now pinned up and hidden under the bright blue surgical cap. She knew her sister didn’t have the same practical reason for wearing her hair up high, but it still baffled her why she wore hers so low. They may have the same face, but they had such different tastes in style.

           Kaida put her life on the line to hide me and my family. Why am I critiquing her hair style right now?

           Her light brown hands scrubbed nearly raw, Jia reached for the hand towel.

           I wonder if they’ll let me go after they take my bending. Or will they hold me hostage? She wondered, Imnek won’t risk the girls’ safety; he’s not stupid. Akina would never give up her son like that, and Kaida wouldn’t betray her family, or put Kirika’s life on the line by revealing she’s been hiding us in the academy’s basement… but I wouldn’t put it past her or Akina to do something equally stupid to save me.

           Her hands now dry, she forced the thought out of her mind as she turned and left the locker room.

           It’ll be ok. You’ll be ok. Bending doesn’t define who you are. You’ll still be Jia, even without bending.

           The halls of the hospital were long. Having worked there for over twenty years, she knew them well. She’d attended to many mothers, delivered many babies. More than she could possibly count. Her greatest breakthroughs were made within these walls. Nay, the world’s greatest breakthroughs. It was because of her research – combining her tribe’s ancient healing practices with modern medicine – that the nation’s maternal and infant mortality rates dropped so significantly. She accomplished so much, saved so many lives…

           You can still do that. You can still be a doctor without bending… albeit, not as efficiently. But you can still teach your methods to new doctors. You can still be on the research board. Lives will still be saved. Your research won’t go in vein.

           She rounded the corner and walked into her patient’s room, pushing her thoughts down and putting a comforting smile on her face. The heavily pregnant woman laid in bed, gripping her husband’s hand. It took only one look to determine just how nervous they were.

           “We’re almost ready to take you back,” Jia said, her voice calm and professional, “Do you have any further questions?”

           The woman looked to her husband, before sheepishly glancing at Jia. “Are you certain this is safe? Will I be able to have more children after this?”

           Jia walked closer to her, grinning with assurance. This procedure was still relatively new, so it wasn’t uncommon for women undergoing it to be nervous, especially first-time mothers.

           “It’s 100% safe and shouldn’t affect future fertility. I’ve seen many mothers go on to have more children after a surgical delivery.” Though her words calmed the couple significantly, she still saw worry in their eyes. “I can assure you, you’re in the best hands possible. My team and I have performed this procedure thousands of times. I even underwent it myself when I had my youngest.”

           The woman was intrigued. “Oh?”

           Jia nodded. “Yep. See, rather than present head, or even feet first, my daughter decided she wanted to lay sideways,” she explained, gesturing her hands across her stomach to illustrate her point.

           “Oh my!”

           Jia chuckled and shook her head. “That’s kids for you. Always gotta be different.”

           The mere thought of her children gave her a sense of calm. Even if she was a lost cause, they would be safe. And once this was over, they’ll be able to go back home, go back to some kind of normalcy.

          Losing your bending doesn’t mean losing everything. You’ll still be a doctor. You’ll still be Nasak and Uki’s mother. You’ll still have your family. You’ll still be you. Amon can’t take that away from you.

           “We both made it through the procedure in good health,” Jia continued, “She’s a perfectly healthy teenager now, head of her school’s drama club and everything. You and your child will make it through, too.”

           The couple grinned, visibly more relaxed. Before more could be said, two nurses came in, wheeling in a bed to transport the patient.

           “Looks like we’re ready for you. It’s almost time to meet your baby.”

           The woman gave a genuine smile and looked to her husband. “We’re almost parents!”

           Her husband gave her a gentle kiss before the nurses started helping her onto the new bed.

           Everything’s going to be ok... I hope.  

--

           The cold of the night became increasingly evident the longer the two equalists waited outside. It was one thing to be constantly on the move in this cold, but just sitting around waiting was something else entirely.

           “Isn’t she done yet?” the taller of the two complained, rubbing his hands together, “How long does it take to deliver a baby?”

           “You’d be surprised. When my nephew was born, it–” He cut himself off. His posture stiffened as realization hitting him like a frate train, something his companion immediately took notice of.

           “What, you forget you were supposed to babysit or something?”

           The other man didn’t respond right away. He briefly debated if he even should.

           “… I’ve told you the story, right? When my sister was nine months pregnant, she was suddenly convinced something was wrong. She tried to tell the doctors, but they brushed her off. Something about nerves and being a first-time mother… but one finally listened to her.” His head hung low as he continued the story. “Turns out, she was in the early stages of placenta abruption. Dr. Jia admitted her to the hospital right away, and thank the spirits she did. Just two days later, she started hemorrhaging. If she hadn’t already been in the hospital, she would’ve bled out. It happened so fast…” He looked up at his companion. “Dr. Jia saved her life. She saved my nephew’s life. I didn’t remember her face until now. I didn’t know this Jia…”

           The other equalist looked to him in sympathy. The two had known each other for a long time now. He’d even met this sister, briefly. He knew she and her baby were the only family he had. He knew they meant the world to him.

           No other words were exchanged for the longest time. The only sound to be heard was that of the wind, and the occasional passing car.

           “So… what do you wanna do?”

--

           Jia stood in the hallway, staring at the exit. Her patient had delivered a healthy baby boy. Mother and child were in the clear, and both were doing well. At this point, Jia was comfortable enough to leave them in the care of the non-bending staff. Which meant she was out of time.

           Taking a deep breath, she held her head high as pushed open the double doors. If nothing else, she would face this nightmare with dignity and honor.

           As the night air hit her skin, Jia’s heart nearly stopped in shock. No one was there. The motorcycles were even gone. She was alone.

           She looked around, careful not to let her guard down. They could still be there, ready to ambush her. It was when she spun around in the direction of the car that she noticed it; a piece of paper tucked underneath the windshield wiper. Approaching with caution, she walked over and picked it up. Her eyes widened as she read the words, unsure of that to make of it.

           Wrong person. Sorry.

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

As always, thanks for being here my friends. There’s definitely more nuanced discussion of this show, but I’m here for the vibes. Anyways, here’s my thoughts on Episode 3 of Loki. Bear in mind I hadn’t watched episode 4 before I wrote the review for 3. No hate on anyone/thing, it’s all my opinion.

Episode 3: LAMENTIS

Pre-title scene

I rioted when I heard Hayley’s voice. It’s a win for all of us.

C-20! Sylvie!

C-20’s lil dance was adorable. I love her.

I want Sylvie’s tie dye.

Is that Ralph Bohner?

The same place, but at night. Coincidence? I think not.

Sylvie’s powers have limits. She can’t search someone’s mind and take information, she needs them to willingly tell her though she can use her powers to do that.

TVA

Sylvie’s experienced. Always tie your hair into a bun before a fight.

Her music is nothing like what we’ve heard previously. It’s the Sylvie show folks.

The mural on the left side of the hall is the one from the credits scene.

The plaque above the elevators says ‘FOR ALL TIME ALWAYS’.

Even in the mural on the right side, the Time Keepers aren’t equal, the middle one takes up the most space.

Ravonna!

I love how their movements are similar. The head-snap-hair-flip combo is nearly identical, reflecting how they are the same person to some extent.

2077 Lamentis - 1

“Get off my leg!” SiblingTM energy.

“Goodbye, variant.” She sure has the Loki drama.

I finally remembered it’s called a TemPad. Rip.

“Don’t ever call me that.”

“Tech savvy?”

That’s so Ragnarok.

I love the music as we pan up to the planet. It’s the familiar, anxiety-inducing ticking for me lads.

“You idiot! This is Lamentis - 1.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

My siblings when I can’t restart the router (every country has an AT&T).

I like that it’s a moon that’s inhabited. It’s nearly always the planet, still not great for the people on it.

That slide to get under the dump truck was so smooth.

“So we’re a team now?” Jesus Loki needs friends. Probably a good therapist too.

“Didn’t need your help!”

“You’re so weird!”

I like the way Tom runs. Don’t know why. Just do.

Sidenote, my favourite running form is Chris Evans’.

Sylvie’s magic flickered so I genuinely think the enchantment didn’t work.

“Well then I’ll cut it out.” I like the way she says that. I am questioning so many things rn.

“Just because I have to work with you doesn’t mean I wanna hear your voice.” It’s ironic since they spend so much time talking about themselves.

“Alright, well, slow down… Variant.” They really play off each other’s egos to find weaknesses.

“You don’t know what you want.” Sylvie’s more straightforward in everything she does. She efficiently points out Loki’s flaws but when it comes to a goal, she’s meticulous.

“...just walk away.” Loki stops walking, but Sylvie does walk away. There is distance between them (for now).

I’ve had experience with mining towns like this one and whilst they weren’t so out-of-this-world (ya know) there is a tendency for rural and isolated communities to struggle with old/not maintained infrastructure. This is not everywhere, but it’s not uncommon from what I know. Even though these towns are a source of wealth, there isn’t distribution of the money and it’s a grim reality that’s being shown. I appreciate it.

The shot of them walking past a slab of that planet towards the hut is incredible. Wow.

The person in there is just waiting for their death. I’m going to be addressing a lot of the harsh realities in this episode folks so it won’t be so cheerful.

I understand that people weren’t so happy with this being a filler episode, but I think they got it right. It’s strange that a literal planet-moon collision doesn’t bring the tension that the hurricane did in the last ep, but by having an atmosphere that wasn't so omnius, they conveyed (to me at least) that hope was already lost. In the Roxxcart Disaster, the people believed that it wasn’t going to be the end. There’s desperation on Lamentis - 1 but as Sylvie said, the collapse of society occurs. That’s a large group of people realising that class divides will cause slaughter. It’s greed portrayed in two different ways, one being the integration of excessive capitalism into society, the other being social structure based on oppression. Not everyone’s reading into Loki like this but it’s a change from how Marvel usually approaches conflict.

We learnt about the characters and whilst I’m not a fan of when a plot line is moot (my bet is that Loki and Sylvie will be rescued next ep, making all the attempts to get off Lamentis - 1 pointless), it’s necessary for the characters to develop. The way Loki and Sylvie end up on Lamentis - 1 makes sense and the plot doesn’t feel forced.

“It’s remarkable that you made it as far as you did.”

Devils is recurring in this episode. Maybe this has implications on future episodes?

“Which one was that, diplomacy?” Why are their interactions so funny?

I don’t think I need to comment on the significance of the train station scene.

I would like to acknowledge that though this is good writing that’s relevant in the time it was released, we shouldn’t forget it’s coming from large corporations who aren’t perfect.

How do they just walk past the line?

The people who snitched were right in front of them.

Did the cat get Loki’s silvertongue? That was the most graceless lying I’ve ever seen.

Sylvie not sitting with her back to a door makes sense, but why won’t Loki go backwards on a train? They both have little quirks.

“That’s not a plan. That’s just doing a thing.” Loki went to the Thor school of planning, it’s Get Help all over again.

Loki’s exaggerated nods at the other guards lol.

Sylvie growls whenever she’s mad, it’s hilarious.

The close ups of their faces when the conversation gets personal and isn’t just trading jabs is great for conveying the authenticity of their answers.

Loki not pressing Sylvie when she clearly didn’t want to talk about what happened to her mother is something I appreciated.

Here’s to Tom for having to do magic for more than 10 years now. He’s so serious, I can only imagine how funny it is without the effects.

“Well she did.” Yeesh, has Loki gotten time to grieve?

Sylvie is genuinely impressive.

“Pity the old woman chose to die.”

“She was in love.”

I don’t quite understand what they were talking about then, I guess we’ll find out later?

Loki, why are you so unnecessarily dramatic?

I laughed. Who am I kidding, they’re dorks and I love them.

Loki is trying to find out anything, anyone who could be used against Sylvie.

Here’s to the postman, they’re probably dead but we appreciate Sylvie’s happiness anyways.

“A bit of both. I suspect the same as you.” AND THAT’S HOW YOU WRITE IN REPRESENTATION FOLKS!

Let’s just take our scraps and be happy, eh? It made my week.

They both need real relationships of any kind, guys.

“Love is… uh, something I might have to have another drink to think about.” Me whenever anyone asks me about my love life.

“You do realise… ...a civilisation’s only hope?” I think this was Sylvie’s way of making sure Loki’s (albeit grey) morals and drinking habits don’t interrupt her plan.

The train sure gives me Snowpiercer vibes.

Do I have to talk about Drunk Loki?

Tom’s singing voice is lovely.

Sylvie’s eyes shift nervously to the door and then back to Loki. She’s initially tense but she relaxes slightly though she knows she’s gonna have to clean up the mess.

“Nobody cares. It’s the end of the world.” Again, Loki’s headspace is one where existence is futile.

The green walls contrast the purple lighting nicely.

You can see plants (?) from the outside if you look out the windows. Talk about attention to detail.

Bruh what is the dagger about? Drunk Loki’s a comedic genius.

The descending notes in the background of Loki’s fireworks.

Sylvie’s smile when she goes to attack is animalistic. I’d like to see her character explored more in terms of how she views violence.

YEET.

“You’re right. I’m a god.” Loki’s defense mechanism is to state that his motives are above the understanding of others.

“You’re a clown.” Sylvie tells it as it is.

Loki and Sylvie’s reactions to the TVA contrast the most here. Sylvie is potentially motivated by vengeance or a need for revenge whilst Loki has resigned to numbing the pain (for now at least) as he comes to terms with his reality. The question of what drives you is so important for these characters, I’m excited to see whether they’ll find a common ground and wreak havoc on the sacred timeline.

Loki and Sylvie both struggle with communicating in a healthy way. Sylvie calls him out on his directionlessness and Loki tells her what may be the harsh reality of her plan. Neither of them are willing to accept it, but there’s potential for a strong bond if they do.

Sylvie’s scream lmao.

I love the colour of Loki’s pants.

Problem? Solution! Do thing! Is Sylvie’s method of thinking when all is lost.

Gosh I love the shots in this episode.

“That’s a pretty good life.” Sylvie’s definitely not lived as a royal, or not from what she remembers.

“I just need to know if I can trust you.” Sylvie giving up how she enchants people is an olive branch because as useful as the things that Loki told her may have been for manipulation, they both know the importance of her upper hand. But she only relents once Loki doesn’t have the TemPad. Later, when she asks whether she can trust Loki, it’s more of a reassurance because he’s already been vulnerable around her.

The actor’s body language and facial expressions are incredible. Loki’s eyebrow’s furrow slightly when Sylvie mentions C-20’s mind but Tom takes a second for the information to be processed rather than instantly reacting to Sophia’s next line. She does the same when Loki talks about the TVA workers being created. What skilled people they are.

The city is a wonderful piece of set design.

“We do, and you can.” They step into the light, neither of them have tunnel vision and are able to see a bigger picture.

“They’re gonna let these people die.” This show explores a side of Loki we haven’t seen before, his morality and compassion. He has grey areas that could be explored in the next season. It also points back to how Sylvie and Loki differ in their view of others. I think this is partially because of their childhoods. Loki was raised as a prince and cared about his people, but Sylvie doesn’t share that perspective (“...they usually survive”), maybe because of her past. Hopefully in the upcoming episodes we’ll get a bit more of her backstory.

That sequence is beyond words. The constantly rotating and revolving camera really hammers home that it’s a disorienting fight for their lives at the end of the world. I’m speechless, just watch it.

The music in that blue-purple-pink club was banging tho.

Loki and Sylvie’s posture, facial expression and general body movement is similar. The variant point is hammered home here.

It’s interesting how Loki is in shock/denial of the Ark being destroyed whereas Sylvie immediately leaves.

The end music of this episode is beautiful. I love how it all builds to leave us on the soft tones of Dark Moon.

No one’s interested, but my mum and I bonded over the Jim Reeves version of this song and the Bonnie Guitar one.

Ep 3 review

Short episode with not much going on other than character development. However, if the first two were anything to go by, this episode will have greater implications on the plot. The pacing of this show is a bit strange, but we may see this change in the next season.

I mentioned previously that it would be a shame if the entire plot of this episode was made irrelevant by how they get off Lamentis - 1 next ep. This show has been really good at keeping us on our toes with the writing so they probably won’t take turns that have been speculated.

Happy mid-season guys! The following two episodes were apparently Tom’s favourites so we can expect some mayhem up ahead. See you next time!

Here's the link to my Ep 2 review

[writer-and-artist27]

How to Write Tomoko (Kinda)

Inspired by this one ask that Lang got a while back. I can’t remember how long ago it was, but @owlsofstarlight commented one time to me how they wrote Tomo based on how I reacted to a lot of things. So, this really is for their reference when writing any Silent Feathers stuff as well as for me to look back on how much Tomo is not just a “Mary Sue,” contrary to what some haters would like to throw at her.

Some important core traits and the like.

Tomoko is selfless. Once she gets to know you as a friend and/or a precious person of her circle, then she’s pulling out all the stops to make sure you’re happy. Even if you are a stranger, if it looks like you’re struggling, she’s offering her hand to bring you to your feet. It’s no question about it — she wants to see you be better, even if it means she gets the short end of the stick, and she’d be happy with the short end of the stick. 

The consequences of her selflessness hit only after she does something in the form of exhaustion and at times barely being able to talk depending on the person (example being that one oneshot where she cleaned all of Obito’s apartment [aside from his room because that’s personal space] and made dinner once he came home, therefore rendering her rambly and barely coherent for a bit once she finally sat down). So she can’t pull out all stops, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try unless you stop her. 

Tomo is also compassionate. Without fail, if someone asks her for a listening ear, she’s already raising her hand to volunteer to do it, all because being Emotional Support is ingrained into her very soul. She is also the first one to ask, “Are you okay?” whenever there’s something wrong, which is why her parents latched onto her so much because she never truly asks for anything for herself. Which leads into the next thing.

As helpful as she is, Tomo can be cruel to herself. From the machinations of Ty, her past death, previous trauma relating to sexual assault as Vy, and her foreknowledge of the Narutoverse, she easily goes to herself, albeit unconsciously, “if the ninja can go out and train to the death, then I can work to the death without complaints.” Similar thoughts such as “sitting around gets nothing done,” “I can’t say no, I’ll feel bad when they have it worse than me,” “I don’t deserve to sit down when people die everyday outside Konoha’s walls,” and “I can’t rest, someone’s crying right now,” roll around constantly in her head. Hence why she rarely gives herself any breathing room. It takes outside stimuli and/or people nagging her for her to properly do self-care.

Someone could easily take advantage of this if they wanted to because it is just hard for her to say “no” to helping someone. The only reason why it hasn’t gotten her into more trouble is because her family and friends help with support and protection from the real big baddies of the Narutoverse. Not to mention the one thought that crossed over from Vy’s reincarnation: “If I messed up/died here, Josh and Leo would be sad. I have to keep going to let them know I’m okay.” 

This also makes it hard for her to go to friends and family for help on her own problems, because in her head, “they’re going through enough shit in their lives, I don’t want to add to it.” She tries to work through it herself and/or bottle it up. This doesn’t always work.

It’s because of this trait that she can’t be the Naruto-figure of her generation, in spite of being so close, because she still needs to learn how to stop for her own sake.

Tomo can also be easily invested in the lives of other people. When she’s dedicated to helping someone, she does whatever she can, putting herself as far out there as she can, even if she doesn’t have much to offer, and that can lead into pitfalls that could sink her mood for weeks or more depending on how much she grows to care.

If someone ever knew the full knowledge of her reincarnation and thus asked her why she decided to help the ninja the way she does, she would reply, “They made a lonely school girl feel loved and cared for again when no one else noticed. The least she could do is return the favor and give them better lives.” So she’s pretty driven for her ninja friends already.

Tomo can be stubborn. Not as much as, say Naruto-levels of recklessness, but when she’s on a task of her own making, she’s driven and focused on it to the point of tunnel vision. Until the thing is done, she’s sticking there, barely moving unless it’s for sleep or food — basically the bare minimum of keeping things up.

Her reflections/self-analysis is borderline self-harm when it comes down to it. By focusing far too much on her flaws and not that of her positives, she forces herself to keep trying to improve/work, even if her body is not up for keeping the reckless standard. I’d like to think it took both Obito and Kei in S&S to convince her not to go all Gai-route in self-defense training, because as much as Gai is productive, his methods would only contribute to Tomo’s fallings in the future with her civilian physique. 

It’s because of this constant self-deprecation that Tomoko is oblivious to any love that’s outside her usual familial and platonic realms of territory. She could suspect that someone is into her, but immediately brushes it off with thoughts of, “There’s no way someone would like me, there’s better girls out there.” So anyone trying to win her heart would be having a hard time just trying to flirt if they’re not saying it directly.

Tomo is also indecisive, lacking any initiative to do something unless it’s to help someone. Once she has a break in her hands, she would stare at it and be like, “What am I supposed to do with this?” She’s just so used to working all the time that when she rests, she either sleeps exhaustion away or goes along with other people’s paces. It’s kinda why she helps out in the hospital with Rin and/or does moral support for Team Minato outside of the café because otherwise, she has no clue what to do.

Tomo struggles with talking to people outside of her precious friend circle. From social anxiety and just plain embarrassment at the possibility of messing up and making a bad impression, Tomo isolates herself a lot if she’s not searching out for specific people. If she’s at work, she can pull out scripted words to get along with the day, but that’s not going to stop her internal monologues of “Holy shit, what do I do, this person wants this” — therefore causing the occasional trip in her voice. It’s easy to fake being outgoing, but otherwise, if she could get time to sleep, she’d take it. Even if she blanks at the idea of “free time.” 

Tomo is also far too easy to read. From her mannerisms to her piano playing (ninshu, people) to how she reacts to nearly everything honestly, it leaves her open to, at best, lots of teasing and, at worst, emotional manipulation at the hands of others not so kind. It makes it hard for her to even try lying, so when it comes to her foreknowledge, she takes after Kei’s example in not saying much when it’s not needed. That doesn’t make her face any less easy to search for when it comes to key signs of turmoil. It can be cute in her everyday life, but if she were ever a ninja, it would be the first thing to get her killed. 

It’s just funny to look back on all this considering in any other setting, Tomoko would be the ideal Shojo protagonist. But, unfortunately, this is the Narutoverse. All of these things leave her solely as Moral Support and nothing more because everyone can tell she wouldn’t be able to handle anything else. 

At this point? Anything can happen and at best, she’s done well to survive so far. If she didn’t make friends with the right people, I wouldn’t be surprised if those behind Sakumo’s original Canon suicide did off with her too. But then we wouldn’t have a story. So there’s that.

Tomo has a long way to go in maturing.

[maggiemaybe160]

Falling

Thank you to @foxymoley​ for the beautiful artwork!  made for @profoundnet​ birthday bash! Also Read on Ao3

The union between a human and an angel is strictly forbidden. The risk is too great. There’s the obvious reason, the most commonly used argument, that a Nephilim being created is far too dangerous. The reason that remains unspoken, is that the love an angel will feel will shatter them. It opens their minds to free will, a concept that was designed for the humans alone. Beyond that, the angel will have to watch their love grow old and die. They will likely hold their love and make promises they can’t keep. Promises like: “it’ll be okay, we’ll be together soon,” or “I’ll visit you in Heaven.”

There have been a few angels over the eons that have fallen in love. Their hearts bound to a human’s, their souls intertwined. They were exiled from Heaven as a last resort. Heaven didn’t give in so easily. They didn’t cut their losses. First, they would drag the offending angel back to Heaven and torture them. They would try to drill it into their beings that they don’t belong on Earth. They don’t belong with a human. They don’t belong. Well, they do belong somewhere. They belong with their own kind, in Heaven, following the orders of God and the Archangels.

“We need to talk.” Going to Dean in his dream in the middle of a battle was risky, but they had come for him. The rest of his garrison had cornered him and their battle began. It was hard talking to Dean now that Cas felt… something… for him. He wanted to protect him. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to feel his lips on his. He wanted to stare into those green eyes forever and know that he’s safe. Safe from Hell. Safe from Heaven.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

“It’s not safe here. Someplace more private.” He wished Dean would look at him, but even if he does, he can’t stay long. He may have been still in Dean’s head, but outside, he was in a warehouse with an angel blade inches from his face.

“More private? We’re inside my head.”

“Exactly. Someone could be listening.”

“Cas what’s wrong?” Now he looks. Now, when Cas was fighting for his life a few hours away, Dean looked at him with those eyes.

“Meet me here. Go now.”

He was yanked back to the warehouse just in time to see Uriel’s hand slam into the center of the banishment symbol. Cas screamed as he was dragged back to Heaven by his wings. He reached for the Earth, for Dean, but it was no use.

The angels sat back and watched, waiting to see if their methods worked. Was Castiel fixed of his affection for the hunter?

“I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heaven. I don’t serve man, and I certainly don’t serve you.” They congratulated themselves for a job well done, blinded by their own ignorance to hear a lie cross the lips of an angel. His heart still belonged to Dean Winchester. His heart will always belong to Dean Winchester.

Another tactic that Heaven uses on their disobedient angels is asking them to choose between their family in Heaven and one human. Angles, Archangels, and God’s absent love along with a strong helping of helplessness and following orders blindly against the unconditional, blinding love of a single human hand in hand with every emotion that was denied to angels and a gift-wrapped box of free will.

Castiel has faced this many times. Each and every time, he wonders why they think Heaven would ever win. Dean is the answer to every question for Cas. Why, amid all of the destruction and loss, does the world still seem like a beautiful place? Dean. How will Cas ever find a way to smile again, after losing so much? Dean. What makes it all worth it at the end of the day? Dean. Dean. Dean.

Other angels had also chosen their love and their freedom. Some had torn out their grace, singed their wings. Some had been reckless, creating a Nephilim. All had tried to run and hide. All had failed. Angels would come down from Heaven and either drag their lovelorn angel home or kill them.

Castiel was easier to pluck from the rubble than most. The only angel in purgatory was already a walking target. With Uriel gone, Naomi took the lead, lifting Cas out of the sandbox for monsters and ingrates, and plopping him into his own personal Hell. Surely, a second round of torture would work. The angels would just have to up the voltage and keep from flinching when he screamed.

Brainwashing is a method of torture that the angels rarely have to use. Physical torture to remind the wayward angel where their loyalties should lie is usually enough. Brainwashing an angel is another level of cruelty that angels don’t pride themselves on. They will do it, but it’s hard on all of Heaven. The start of brainwashing is the hardest part. The resistance and struggle they put up as they squirm in their restraints and scream around their gag.

The drill whirred and his eyes went wide, tears leaking out the sides as he screamed his muffled pleas. In his mind, he was tasked with killing Dean Winchester, the root of all of his problems, his main affliction. At the start of it all, he resisted. He stared down a perfect copy of Dean and he refused to harm him.

Castiel was unaware of the simulation at first. This Dean was so much like his Dean. His freckles were all there. His green eyes shone with the same intensity. His hair was just so. His jawline could cut diamonds. His clothes hung from his body the same way. Cas felt his heart pound in his chest. He didn’t know what was real anymore. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was dying in a chair, a drill lodged in his brain as the angels tortured him. Maybe seeing Dean here, now, was his last chance to see him before he expired.

“Kill him.”

“I love him,” Cas argued. It was the wrong answer. Dean lifted his blade and let it come down on Cas with the fury of Heaven. “I love him,” Cas sobbed around his gag, sweat and blood running together on his face in the chair as he looked up into Naomi’s face.

“No, Castiel. You must kill him,” she ordered. “Again.” And he was sent back. Back to a room where it was just him and Dean.

Cas lost count. He lost count of how many times he let Dean kill him. He didn’t know how many trials passed before he stopped speaking, stopped crying, stopped. He couldn’t tell what was real and what was in his head. The only thing he knew for sure, was that it hurt every time he killed Dean. His heart would crack and bleed every time he gave in to the orders. He had thought that when he killed Dean, it would end. He would be allowed to return to him. He would be allowed to hold Dean in his arms again and go back to the regular, everyday torture that is hearing the word “buddy” cross his perfect lips.

Something was different that time. Everything was different that time. “Fight this! This isn’t you!” Dean yelled. Dean. That was the real Dean. He wasn’t in his head. He was hurting the real Dean, the Dean that makes his world bright, his heart beat, his breath catch, and humanity worth fighting for.

“What have you done to me, Naomi?” It didn’t matter how much he fought, how much more aware he was of the line between reality and simulation, he continued to hurt his love.

“I need you.” Dean was on his knees, half of his face bloody and broken. His hand is limp in Cas’ grasp. The brainwash had almost worked, but it had failed as Cas’ eyes locked with Dean’s. Heaven would continue to lose their battle in keeping their angel from falling in love. They couldn’t stop it because they were years too late. Even if Dean never returned Castiel’s feelings, he was too far gone from Heaven.

What do you do when you have an angel that is undoubtedly, irrevocably in love and no amount of torture, brainwashing, or weighted ultimatums can’t fix him? The gateway to Heaven was locked. If he wouldn’t learn his lesson, he was cut off, frowned upon, and stuck on Earth with the being he found himself so infatuated with, albeit one-sided. He was doomed to watch his love from a distance, the words he would speak, silenced. The Emtpy, the angels and all of Heaven decided, would figure out what to do with the poor orphaned Castiel. They decided this because even if they had lost their battle with the angel, that hunter would never return his affections. Not aloud anyway. They’re both in love, but they both remain silent, and that is enough for now.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean ventures. Cas lifts his head and looks into the eyes of the only being that has ever held his heart.

“You can ask me anything.”

“When you were hurt…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Nevermind.” He looks back down at his book and scratches the back of his head. Cas is more aware than ever that Sam is not in the room. Dean looks back up and sighs. “You said you loved us.”

“I said I love you,” Cas says before he can stop himself. He can feel the phantom presence of Heaven’s grip on his wings, threatening to yank him back upstairs to beat it out of him. It doesn’t happen. “I love you ,” he says softer. He wishes Dean would hear him.

“I love you,” Dean says so softly it doesn’t even count as a whisper. Cas closes his eyes, waiting for the qualifier. He’s a brother. He’s a buddy, pal, friend. “Cas.” His voice is tender.

Cas remembers the poison eating away at him as he stared up into the green eyes that he had fought for time and time again. He opens his eyes now and looks into those same eyes. His heart is going too fast, but he knows from experience that there’s no slowing it down. Not when Dean is looking at him. Not when they’re alone. Not when Dean looks like that.

He remembers lifting Dean from Hell, his hands burning into his shoulders. Dean had been torn to shreds, but Cas was healing him as they made their ascent. Dean’s hand on Cas’ right now has all the heat that could burn him, but it leaves no mark.

“Dean,” Cas says, his voice rough. They move at the same time. Their chairs abandoned, the table stepped around, there’s no space left between them as Dean pulls Cas into his arms and their lips meet for the first time.

Cas feels like he’s falling. He’s falling from Heaven, forever severed. He’s falling into Dean Winchester’s arms, his kisses a cushion. And Dean is there, with open arms, willing to accept the exiled, fallen angel. He’s there and he said it. He loves him. He loves him and he’s kissing him. Dean’s mouth his hot and urgent, his lips soft and wanting.

“I love you,” Dean says, his breath coming quickly. He’s shaking and smiling and wow his eyes are bright green when he’s happy. His freckles pop under the bright red blush. He says it like he can’t keep it inside now that it’s finally out. He says it like he’s been holding onto it as long as Cas has, letting it eat away at him over all these years.

“Dean,” Cas answers in between kisses, running his thumb over the short stubble on Dean’s jaw. It’s the only word that makes sense to say. “Dean.”

Dean is the answer to every question for Cas. Dean is his reason to rebel, his reason to live. Dean is the reason the sun comes up in the morning and sinks at night. Dean is the reason Cas was pulled from Earth, dragged by his wings into the harmful hands of the angels. Dean is the reason Cas has fallen. Fallen from Heaven. Fallen from grace. Fallen in love.

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[nerddface]

The Fight & The Fall

Characters: Eret, Son of Eret , Reader

Warnings: Nothing :)

Word count: 2600 whew

Notes: this is v late and has a v bad cheesy title. Shoutout to Men in Tights for the reference ;)

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Eret wasn’t even on Y/N’s radar. She had bigger priorities than this new human member of their team, like figuring out how they were going to integrate another dragon with her incredibly sensitive scaredy-cat of a dragon. Muds was small for a Stormcutter, only slightly more than half the size of her cousin, Cloudjumper, and somewhat dim in comparison, as well. The sharp, innate ability of Stormcutters to distinguish between friend and foe was duller in this poor creature, and it took some doing to earn her trust. Because of her size (or lack thereof), she was meticulous about knowing who was in her surroundings. She knew where every other dragon in a formation was, and attacked just about anything out of place. It took several weeks, quick reflexes, and dozens of treats to teach her a new strategy, and that was just with the original five, familiar dragons. The momentary addition of Heather back on the Edge hadn’t gone well, and Y/N and Muds were grounded most of her stay. Just looking at Eret’s loud, brash Rumblehorn gave her a headache.

Muds, of course, didn’t like him, either.  She had a particularly difficult time understanding the shift between “Strange-Hostile-Person-Whom-We’ve-Never-Met” to “Eret-Now-A-Friend-Of-Dragons”. Stoick had visited infrequently with Skullcrusher before, so they were essentially starting from square one. Stormfly, bless her, had done her best to show the younger dragon that the new additions to their team were not threats, but poor Muds just hadn’t grasped the concept yet. Y/N kept Muds and herself at a distance from them, only exchanging short words with Eret over supper to remain civil. He seemed to keep his distance, as well, perhaps not fond of being the odd one out as the new guy, not to mention Ruffnut would hardly leave him alone. Y/N knew too well what the twins’ attention meant, in any capacity, and she couldn’t blame Eret for being scarce.

Hiccup, apparently, had had more than enough of both of their reclusive habits and had called them to the arena at the crack of dawn. He stood now with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand gripping a leather-bound notebook and a stick of charcoal, considering both of them across the sizeable distance they’d put between each other.

“Closer.”

A glance over at Eret revealed to Y/N he was just as confused as she was. “What?”

“We’re here to acclimatize Muds to Skullcrusher, and, by extent, the two of you. That’s not going to happen if you’re standing an ocean apart. A step closer won’t kill you.”

Y/N frowned, but took a step forward. Muds followed close at her back, her head swiveling and the end of her tail flicking as she tried to make sense of the two across the stone from her.

Eret followed, Skullcrusher rumbled up behind him, and Muds chittered.

“I have an idea.” Hiccup leveled both of them with his I-mean-business look. “It should work if both of you cooperate.”

Y/N shrugged. ”Yeah.” Eret also nodded his agreement.

“Great. It’s pretty simple. Eret, Muds is comfortable with Y/N, and the smell of Y/N. I want you to wear her cloak, and Y/N can re-introduce you slowly. Muds may be a little easier to convince that you’re friendly if you smell friendly.”

Surprisingly, it worked. By working gradually, with plenty of gentle assurances and praise on Y/N’s part, Eret could stroke both of Muds’ sides from nose to tail, and Skullcrusher could make a full, slow circle around her at a moderate pace, even without Y/N’s scent draped over them.

“Great,” their leader conceded after about an hour of exercises. “We’ll pick back up tomorrow morning. Y/N, I’d recommend giving Muds a good break.”

Eret handed Y/N her cloak back, and their hands brushed momentarily. She threw it over her shoulders, catching a hint of his scent still clinging to the material. For some reason, it made her strangely nervous. She decided she was not a fan.

“Wonderful. Great lesson. Bye, Hiccup, bye, Emmet.”

Eret didn’t have enough time to process what she’d said and correct her before she was swinging herself into her saddle and taking to the air.

Hiccup sighed and scribbled something in his notebook, leaving them in momentary silence, save for the skittering of dragon claws on the stone as Toothless tracked circles around a disinterested Skullcrusher.

“Sort of quiet, isn’t she?” Eret commented, watching her and Muds leave the arena behind. Hiccup tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chortling laugh, and the newest rider turned to him with a frown.

“What?”

“Y/N is anything but quiet. We thought the same thing, at first, but don’t let it fool you. She’s got a tongue sharp enough to cut off that fluffy braid of yours.”

“Really?” He paused before asking further, “Why doesn’t she speak to me?”

Hiccup shrugged. “Sometimes I’m not sure if her or her dragon is more wary of strangers. I guess neither of them-- ahem-- quite like you.”

Eret’s brow creased further as he looked back up to see Muds’ tail flick around a sea stack and out of sight.

~

With the dragon bonding underway, the others tried to help the two humans in the equation, in their own way. The twins tried their “T’n’T” (Tried-and-True Tightrope) Method, which thankfully did not involve any explosives. Despite having worked on Dagur and Mala previously, it wasn’t the best approach for Eret and Y/N. The newcomer tumbled off before any semblance of a match could begin, while Y/N, long-accustomed to wave-riding on dragons, balanced atop the swinging tightrope cooly, examining her nails as Eret spat dirt out of his mouth.

Fighlegs tried meditating. It seemed to work-- until he realized the reason they hadn’t been making sarcastic jabs at each other was because they had both fallen asleep.

Astrid just shrugged her shoulders. “You’ll get over each other.”

Snotlout was the last to assist, and had led them both to an open patch of beach on the far side of the island.

“Hiccup is wrong,” he announced as Hookfang found a comfortable spot to nap. “He’s great with dragons, but people are my speciality. I know what you two need.”

Y/N and Eret both stared, silently, waiting for him to continue. He shifted his weight and sighed. “Listen. In the Jorgenson household, we handle things the old fashioned way. The correct way. The only way. No dragons, no ‘talking it out’ or whatever soggy garbage.”

He gestured to behind Y/N with a wave of his arm. “Astrid, if you would.” Y/N turned to see the blonde atop Stormfly, who was coaxing Muds down the beach. Her dragon was, albeit a little cautiously, following at a steady pace. She could play with the Nadder for hours if she was allowed. Y/N frowned and quirked a brow but let it happen.

“Never expect another favor like this, Snotlout,” Astrid called over her shoulder, jabbing a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah, screw you, Snotlout, I get it, just take the Stormcutter somewhere else. Far away.”

As Muds got further away down the beach, the viking produced a chicken wing from the bag slung across his shoulders.

“You too, big guy.” He waved it before Skullcrusher’s nose until it caught his attention, then slung the chicken and the bag as far as he could, into the trees. The Rumblehorn chased it, rumbling happily, and leaving the humans alone.

Snotlout picked up a large stick from the ground and began tracing a large circle in the sand around them. “Sometimes,” he explained, “You’ve just gotta throw a couple punches. Really brings people together.”

“What, exactly,” Eret questioned, peering over Y/N’s shoulder as Snotlout completed his ring, “are you suggesting?”

Snotlout bonked the stick on the top of Eret’s head. “Fight.”

Y/N snorted, sparing a glance to Eret, who seemed just as apprehensive. “Sorry?”

“Sparring,” Snotlout assured. “Nothing serious. Just to get to know one another.”

“What do I win?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Eret scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Uh, the thrill of victory? Eternal bragging rights? My praise?” Snotlout tossed his stick aside and waved a hand dismissively. “Now get to it. That chicken isn’t going to last forever, and I will not be responsible for that dragon when he comes back.”

When Y/N looked over to Eret, she found his gaze already on her, one brow raised, as if he were asking her agreement to continue. She heaved a short breath.

“Why not? Not like you could do much damage anyway, Egret.”

The comment was sharp, but her voice wasn’t, and a smile tugged at her mouth as she planted her feet shoulder-width apart and balled her fists.

“You’ll see what Eret, son of Eret, is capable of. I’ve taken on whole crews single-handedly!” Eret struck first, feigning to the left before striking at her with his right fist. She missed it with plenty of room to spare. She kept up her defense, knocking half-hearted blows away with ease.

“Oh, please!” she exclaimed. “Are you throwing fists, or flowers?”

Eret’s stance widened and he pulled his fists closer before lunging forward with more force. Y/N had to compensate heavily on her right foot to get out of the way in time, and attempted a feint to the left to get her balance back. It wasn’t very convincing, and he almost got her to trip up before she got her feet right under her, still trying to find an opening in his defense.

He laughed sharply as she dodged another meaty fist. “All bark, but no bite, are you?”

Y/N chuckled breathlessly, and dropped close to the ground and changed her tactics. She swiped a leg out, trying to catch his heel. He jumped over it, but that was what she wanted; she balanced herself on her palms and swung herself around, slamming her other leg into his ankles just as they touched the ground.

He lost his footing and hit the sand with a heavy thud, but recovered quickly, and rolled to avoid her pinning him down. He used his momentum to swing an arm at her head as he got back to his feet. She ducked beneath it and managed a sharp jab to his ribs before he twisted out of her reach.

Eret’s hair was disheveled from his momentary grounding, and his face was flush with effort. Y/N was struck, for a moment, by the glimmer in his eyes and the flash of his teeth. The tattoo on his chin distorted slightly as he frowned with concentration, When did his face get to be that handsome? She was so lost in this moment of admiration that she didn’t catch his palm coming to box at her ear. The sharp blow shook her head out of its bizarre little mood and back into the fight, but as she caught his calf mid-kick she found her breath trembling like the muscle beneath her fingertips.

If Eret noticed her mind was elsewhere, he didn’t ease up on her, and pressed his offense forward, pushing her to the edge of the ring. She was back on strict defense, deflecting blows and dancing out of the way of his rapid punches.

He tried a kick at her at the same time she made a move to duck under his range of fire and strike at his abdomen. Her right leg hooked with his left, and her shoulder collided with his hip, sending them both to the sand. They ended up in a tangled heap, winded both from the fight and the fall.

Eret groaned, and Y/N felt it more than she heard it. He struggled to brace himself up, but only got to his elbows before wincing. His hiss of breath sounded sharply in her ear, and she was sure he could feel the same pain that was blooming in her shoulders. She shifted the knee that had buried in his side, and he lifted his heavy chest off of hers. One of his hands had trapped her bicep above her head, and a thigh was snug between hers.

She cracked her eyes open through the ringing in her head, and met his. She sucked in a breath, of either shock or something else she didn’t know-- the scent of leather and the sea filled her head, and the space between them superheated in an instant. Was it just her imagination, or did she see the same expression of hesitant wonderment in his face? She couldn’t be sure that he had leaned forward just a hair, but she was sure that her heart rate took another spike.

The world seemed to grind to a halt around them, until Snotlout kicked Eret’s thigh. “Round’s over! I didn’t need you two to get that close.”

Eret scrambled off of her, and offered a hand to help her up. Y/N accepted it, hoping he couldn’t tell her hands were getting clammy. She very pointedly studied the sand around them as Snotlout sighed.

“Eret landed top of the pile, so he wins, but really, we all win, don’t we?” He slung his arms around both of their shoulders, yanking them down to the same height. “Would you consider you to be friends, now?  Wouldn’t you say that sparring match was just what you needed?”

Y/N wriggled away, but her sneer was breaking into a smile. “Not to your credit, Snotlout.”

“Nonsense. Another rift mended by the expertise of one Snotlout Jorgenson!” He released Eret but ground a fist into his bicep with a grin. “My dad will be so excited to hear that it worked!” He climbed into his dragon’s saddle and jerked his horns. “Let’s go do the family name proud, Hookfang! Have fun being friends! And don’t worry, you can thank me later!”

The pair of troublemakers took off, leaving Eret and Y/N in relative peace. Distantly, Skullcrusher was rumbling through the brush and crunching on bones, but they still had a good minute or so before he returned. Muds was likely still scampering about with Stormfly somewhere out of earshot.

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to regain the confidence that had until just recently come so easy to her. “Well, Amit. Since you won, I guess it’s only fair that you pick your prize.”

He mulled it over for a moment, hoping the blush that flared up on his face was still hidden under the pretense of exertion. Half of those thoughts did not have any right to be in his head at that moment. He schooled his voice into steadiness before speaking. “You... could help me with the training arena? I’m on cleaning duty this week.”

Y/N shrugged. “Sure. Maybe I could get some dusting done with that little brush back here.” She ruffled the spiky end of his hair, and he laughed.

“Bad idea. Dust makes me sneeze.”

“We’ll figure something out, Achoo, son of A-sneeze. We may need a lot of water. You could use a bath, anyway.”

She was joking, but he was suddenly trying to remember the last time he’d washed. “Really?”

Her laugh lifted his chest and the corners of his lips. Her eyes sparkled as her gaze sidled over his face. “No, Eric. You’re fine.”

“It’s Eret.”

“I know, Aaron.”

Eret sighed, but didn’t complain. For her favor, he could take a couple new names. And maybe... one day she’d be saying his name right.

[finestcreation]

Titan

@goddess-mothra​ liked this post for a starter

Life is beautiful, Satan knows this for a fact.

Long ago he was once happy in Heaven. An angel created to be just as powerful as a God. An angel capable of powers beyond comprehension. Not that he ever knew that. His six pairs of wings were a sign of his divine capabilities. Yet he was so benign, so innocent, so incredibly pure that he never knew it until finally he had grown spiteful. Angels are not loving, they are not caring, they are cruel to their own kind and are jealous of the life created. If he had a coin for every time he ran to his room in the Palace of Heaven and trembled in terror of his own kind, he’d be wealthy beyond belief up in Heaven. If only he knew the strength he possessed... Something that came to his knowledge when he finally ran away. He was a young angel, merely a child when he found the demons living among the dinosaurs. They were so beautiful, so hellbent on survival, they never killed their young and they never thought that life was too infinitesimal to be allowed the chance to survive. Demons respected life in a way that Lucifer grew to love. Here he made a home, learned the name of the planet, in accordance to demons, which was Terra. They worshiped him like a king, much to the angels dismay, and soon enough he integrated himself into their lives. A benign mother that cared for them as best he could.

After a while he heard stories of an extremely powerful being that was sealed away as a mere infant in the Triassic period... He was locked in a moon created from the petrified remains of those who dare try to remove him from it. However Lucifer was blessed, as such he could plunge deep into the maze of Amon’s Moon unaffected. He reached the beast, freed him, and showed him the same tender care that he showed the rest of demon kind. However... there was more here. Lucifer fell in love with Amon. He fell so deeply in love that he did something angels never do, that angels refuse to do-- he allowed the demon to take him to his bed. Married him in the way angels marry in Heaven, something that has only been recorded once. In the end the angel found themselves at risk for becoming and Irea, a mother, due to the unique physiology of angel kind. Their singular gender giving them the capabilities to both father and mother children, similar to many animals in the animal kingdom. It was an inevitability that the two of them, without their knowledge, would end up conceiving. But an angel’s body is frail. It’s no surprise that when angels began attacking and trying to get their golden seraphim to come home, in the throws of conflict, he’d loose the baby he was carrying. The baby that archangel Michael labeled a mere parasite. With the infant dead, a miscarriage born premature, Satan waged war against Heaven, finding his true strength in his feathers.

The Heavenly war was a blood bath, only brought to a close by the KT Disaster, with the demons defeated Michael struck a deal with God. Lucifer will be locked away to suffer an eternal nightmare upon Earth, he will repeat his tragedy over and over again with Amon, killing him repeatedly. However should he ever break free of the time loop, if he should ever learn to create a miracle and escape, than he will be free of Heaven and Michael’s torment. He will get the dimension known as Hell and he will be permitted free reign of the mortal realm. What Michael didn’t know was that God was aware of Lucifer’s true intention. His mere desire to protect demons, not to bring down Heaven and taint grace, as such he made a flaw in the punishment without Michael’s knowledge. A guarantee that Lucifer will escape. The flaw’s name was Akira Fudo, and he was to be a conduit for the love that Satan felt. Winning his affections would not be easy, but it was enough to give him a chance.

And a chance was all he needed.

~✧~✧~✧~✧~✧~✧~

Lucifer had escaped a long time ago, but he was all alone. He didn’t find any desire to truly stay on Earth when there was no life there. He would come back when life began to return, instead he had his own kingdom to run. Hell was a place that was infinitely larger than Heaven, something which shocked the angel as he wandered through the levels that Dante had predicted. The first time he stepped upon the quieted and empty landscape that was to be his kingdom, he felt a rush of inspiration alongside something else. Something more... knowing. He could feel everything that was happening here, almost as though the actions were being done to a phantom limb. Every turn of a stone, every gale of wind, he could feel it. Retreating deep into the center of Hell, Lucifer began to build up his kingdom. Demons began to appear from their energy forms in this world and began to aid him. Every demon who had ever existed, every beast that had ever lived in history came back in this world. The demon king recognized almost every single one of them. They built up the kingdom and then when they were finished with his palace, he gave them full reign of the world that would form all about them. Approaching his throne, he sat down upon it, giving demon kind strict orders. ‘Should you ever find Amon or Akira down here in Hell, you are not to harm them, you are to subdue them and bring them straight to me!’ He knew that eventually one of them would appear down here, but all the same he doubted it to a degree... Why would he ever be given that happiness.

On his throne he sat most of the days, the Earth was still in his periphery-- it always was. But all the same it was a distant place. If he doesn’t tune into the mindless drone of static, than he won’t notice any change. That was... until a major change began to occur. His head wings perked and he began to listen in to the sounds of the planet. Of the planet he had fought so hard to protect and ultimately destroyed. It was thriving with life again, that much he could make out but... what was this unique sound. A rumble of energy. Something larger than-- His mind cut itself off as he recognized the power. It was a deity of some sorts. Normally one would just ignore this but Satan has always been infamously curious. How do you catch the devil? By making him ask a question, by confusing him, and by satisfying his urge to learn about anything and everything. How many times have angels tied his wings due to his curiosity? Too many times he can count. They would make him wonder ‘what is that’, and then when he came to investigate, pin him and tie his wings so he cannot escape. It was a full proof method to get the ever curious and inquisitive (albeit mischievous) Lucifer to behave. “Jenny!? Sirene!?” The seraphim called out, the two appeared soon after, the fuzz ball and the demon bird. Both of which he had grown so attached to by this point. “I’m going to Earth, watch over Hell for me will you... Call to me if Akira or Amon is found.” With that he began to ready himself for his journey back to Terra.

~✧~✧~✧~✧~✧~✧~

Truly Earth has changed so much since his last time here. The planet has since gained a harden crust and has since bypassed the many epochs that he has grown to know as his brief time studying archaeology. It felt so long ago that he himself believed he was a human, almost like a bad dream. Part of that human still lived in him, but all the same Ryo Asuka felt like the name of someone that should be buried where he was born. But where he was born is the question to be asked... In the end that boy, Ryo, would never be buried. The pain that he felt was also Lucifer’s pain, and the pain the angel felt was also Ryo’s-- in the end they were both crybabies that fought for survival just like the demons they aligned with. For a while Satan watched humanity as they went about their lives. Wandering about, chattering and minding their own business. This was around the time the apocalypse happened for him wasn’t it? This era of life? This time of human history? Where there was peace, and yet knowledge that there was no possible way that the peace could last... Nuclear war would probably happen eventually, but that wasn’t Satan’s problem. What humans chose to do with the planet they roamed wasn’t his problem. He just watched from the background, heeding the call of demons and bringing them back to hell with him. They needn’t interfere in what caused them so much trouble in the first place. How he wished he could take this planet and mold it to something absolutely beautiful. But in the end, there was no way he could possibly do that.

He continued to follow the pulsating energy that he felt. A silent disturbance in the world he knew so well. If anyone knew Earth, it was probably Satan himself. He has spent eternity on this planet before he found Hell and after he was cast out of Heaven. As such he knew every nook and cranny of the planet. He knew when something wasn’t quite right. The fact he didn’t notice it sooner peeved him in fact. The feeling and energy brought him to an island... He didn’t remember this place. A phantom location that would, mathematically, make no sense to be here. But all the same it was here and he couldn’t refute what his eyes were telling him. Six pairs of wings gently guided him to the shore, he landed against moist sand with a soft ‘splsh’ as the draw of water brushed against his pale feet. Folding his wings close to him, he pushed onward in investigation. This place was thriving, he supposed due to the energy that radiated from some unknown place. Passing through the trees, past the foliage, eyes falling upon beautiful animals and insects, Satan followed the energy like a dog follows the smell of food. He was a blood hound on a mission, he wanted to satisfy the curiosity he held. The primal desire to know and be aware of all that was happening around him. He had heard stories of ‘titans’, creatures that were so close to God in power that they could be deities in their own right, often times however they were not conscious enough to realize the potential of their own power. Lucifer was considered a titan by angel kind, but as far as he knew him and Amon were the only ones left... If Amon still was alive that is. Perhaps this was someone, or something, else that fit into that category? With the ability to rewrite space and time, with the ability to distort reality should they choose. An eldritch monstrosity.

Soon enough he came to a place that he found to be the source of the energy. The creature he saw there made his blue eyes go wide, head wings drooping in shock as he stared in wonderment. What was he seeing? He wanted to take flight and return to Hell. Not because he was scared, but because it became obvious that this planet was no longer his to love and hold. To tend to and adore. Once again he felt the loss of a piece of himself. Somehow he felt benevolence in this creature towards the planet and its life. How long have they been on this planet? How long have they been here without his knowledge. He held no fear of them, didn’t believe that violence would ensue, but he did feel a sense of silent jealousy. Something that he would not admit to in the slightest. No, he would bury it and ignore it-- get on good terms with the creature that now protects the Earth and maybe, just maybe, you can still have a piece of it. He shouldn’t be selfish after all... He had Hell. But somehow his love for Earth and its beauty never died, even after all he’s been through. “So... you were what that energy was... What I heard from Hell...” He spoke aloud, not sure if the entity could understand him or not.

[nflweeklyuk]

NFL Week 2 Predictions

Ok so week 1 was pretty much the worst day I’ve had at this with at 50% (70% generally!).

I’ve added back Pick confidence to the predictions below which, as it says, shows my conviction in the pick. Anything 70% and above and I am pretty confident.

Washington 20 Giants 16

Spread: Washington -3

Pick confidence: 65%

Washington, without Fitzpatrick for the foreseeable future, only narrowly lost out to the Chargers on Sunday with Taylor Heinicke under center for a large part. The win came down to Justin Herbert who made 3 completions of more than 15 yards on 3rd down. Who has the confidence that Daniel Jones can do the same? I do not. The Washington defense lead by Chase Young, should do enough to make sure the offense can stumble through this one. If ever there was a quarterback to get after and generate turnovers then it is Jones. In 28 games he has put the ball on the ground 30 times, losing 18 of those, including one that effectively ended the Giants hopes last weekend. Not to mention 22 interceptions. This has the potential to get ugly. The Giants will view this as one of the more winnable games on their schedule, and if they don’t turn the ball over then they certainly have a chance. Barkley needs to get going yesterday to relieve the pressure on Jones and be the dual threat we know he can be. Coming of limited snaps in week 1 that might be a lot to ask this early in the season. I’m banking on a defensive TD from Washington in this one. Fantasy starts on a Thursday can be dicey but I would have confidence in the Washington D.

Steelers 26 Raiders 23

Spread: Steelers -6

Pick confidence: 60%

I was sooooo close to picking the Steelers last weekend. I wasn’t bought in to the overblown stories of their demise given they have a great defense, good skill position players and veteran Superbowl winning QB. That was all mostly on display last Sunday, although it did take the offense until the second half to warm up. The Steeler’s D did a number on Josh Allen and the much hyped Bills offense, we might just see how good that performance was when Allen and Co light up opposition in the coming weeks. It doesn’t bode well for a Raiders team that thrive on deep shots, and lots of them (19 targets in week 1!), to Darren Waller, the Steeler’s secondary, with Fitzpatrick over the middle, will not allow so many shots to land. For the Raiders to win this one the pass rush that showed plenty of life with Maxx Crosby will need to get pressure on Big Ben. On the flip side, Pittsburgh needs to get more out of the run game, it was their biggest failing last year and only racking up 75 yards on the ground in week 1 didn’t suggest a huge improvement. In the end I think the Steeler’s D is the difference making unit in this matchup. I’m not sure the offense is yet in the kind of form that will cover the spread here though.

Eagles 24 49ers 27

Spread: 49ers -3

Pick confidence: 60%

This is a hard matchup to predict. Surprisingly Jimmy G and the 9ers had the highest yards per pass attempt at 12.3 in week 1. The Eagles allowed the lowest yards per pass attempt at 4.7. The Eagles did give up 124 on the ground to an Atlanta team who does not rack up rushing yards as a habit. The 49ers however do love to run the ball and always find creative ways to do so, regardless of who is running the football. Eli Mitchell anyone? Yeah I picked him up on waivers, and of course Hasty is going to start, typical. The 9ers gave up a lot of yards to Detroit but that was a lot to do with running up a huge lead. Goff threw the ball 58 times! This was at a clip of 5.9 yards per attempt. If you have a team in desperation mode from before the half you are going to give up yards, and points, at the NFL level. The loss of Jason Verrett is a massive blow for this 49ers secondary and has impacted the above prediction to make a closer game. The ground game should be the strength of this Eagles team though and the 9ers will need to play better on the defensive line than they did a week ago. In match ups this close I tend to look at QBs and strengths/weaknesses. The 9ers look to be able to run on the Eagles, allowing them to execute their game plan. The Eagles will also have a run first game plan that should provide results in this game too, it then comes down to which passer is best placed to take advantage of the run game? I’m rooting for Hurts to become the unquestioned QB1 of this Eagles team for the foreseeable but with up and down tape from last year I have to go with the more seasoned QB until the consistent performances come. This game could go either way quite easily, if Hurts performs like he did last week then Eagles likely win this game given the injuries hitting the 9ers.

Browns 30 Texans 17

Spread: Browns -13

Pick confidence: 95%

The Texans may have been the biggest surprise package of week 1, perhaps not because they beat the Jags but by the fact they did so putting up points on offense and creating turnovers on defense. I wouldn’t get carried away thinking the Texans are going to be a season long surprise package, most teams are not the Jags. We will see exactly how bad the Jags are in the coming weeks. This Browns team is on the opposite end of the spectrum to the Jags, they gave the Superbowl favourites all they could handle without taking the win in week 1. I think the Texans come back down to earth this week, they have an offense that’s ceiling is as high as Tyrod Taylor’s talent can go and a defense that is likely mediocre at best. The likelihood is this squad will struggle to win 5 games, at a stretch. The Browns have far too much talent in this matchup, on both sides of the ball so not one to overthink. The Texans still gave up 319 yards and 3 TDs to a rookie so you would expect Baker Mayfield to take advantage of this defense, especially after a heavy dose of Chubb and Hunt.

Jaguars 13 Broncos 24

Spread: Broncos -5.5

Pick confidence: 60%

The Jags really staked their claim early for the worst record in football. The defense let Tyrod Taylor go off for 291 passing yards, his best near full season as starter saw him average 217 per game. The Jags also gave up 160 on the ground to a group of running backs, albeit with talent, but who have bounced from team to team and could at this point be considered journeymen. This is not a good look, nor is 4 turnovers on offense. This is the kind of outing that rings 0-17 alarm bells. The Jags have to protect the ball to give their defense a fighting chance, running the ball effectively has never been more important for this team. The Broncos only gave 60 on the ground to the Giants in week 1 so will not be the easiest unit to get the ground game going against. If the Jags have to rely on Trevor Lawrence to win games this early in the season it will inevitably end with an L. The Broncos were efficient under Teddy Bridgewater on offense and I expect similar this week, even against a bad Jags defense I don’t expect the Broncos to light it up. I do expect them to methodically pick apart this unit and consistently put points up on the board. Look for Courtland Sutton to pick up the targets vacated by Jeudy’s absence as he works back from injury. Again, one not to overthink until the Jags show us a reason to consider otherwise

Panthers 20 Saints 28

Spread: Saints -3.5

Pick confidence: 80%

The Saints managed to do something that Jameis Winston has not seen in his years as a starter, a team that can pound the rock. Not necessarily in the conventional, Derrick Henry sense though. The Saints racked up 171 yards on the ground, putting Winston in the position to pick apart a Packers defense that was forced to consider him the number two threat. This type of attack will nullify the strength of the Panthers D. As impressive as the win was the Saints came out of it seriously beat up, especially on defense. The loss of star cornerback Marshon Lattimore and edge rusher Marcus Davenport will take some teeth out of this unit. For this week at least I think the Saints can survive those losses against the Panthers, while Christian McCaffrey will no doubt keep the Panthers chains moving I am not convinced Darnold is yet the one to cap drives with scores regularly enough to outpace this Saints offense. The Saints were clinical offensively against the Packers but the Panthers were not against the Jets. I know which one is more impressive. I like the spread here, although the defensive losses for the Saints make me slightly more nervous. Kamara and McCaffrey going head to head should be great.

Colts 17 Rams 27

Spread: Rams -3.5

Pick confidence: 85%

I actually do not see this game being as close as my prediction suggests, and yes it is not that close anyway. Give the Colts some 4th quarter points to make this score more respectable while the Rams take their foot of the gas. I am VERY high on this Rams team since the acquisition of Matthew Stafford, see my division previews for the season. Nothing that happened in week 1 did anything to shake that confidence. Stafford easily put up 321 yards passing and 3 TDs in a game that was not close in the second half. This week he faces a Colts secondary that just allowed 4 TDs and 11 yards per attempt to Russel Wilson and the Seahawks. Throw in 140 yards on the ground and you can only see the Rams replicating that kind of production against this Colts D. On the other side of the ball, a questionable Colts O-line will have it’s hands full with this Rams front lead by Aaron Donald. His quiet week 1 stats sheet does not tell the story of the tape, he was a force as always. Wentz was surprisingly spry in last weeks opener, he may need to be in this one if the Colts are going to make this competitive. I don’t know that the Colts have the weapons on the outside to threaten Ramsey and co in this matchup. Yes Zach Pascal hauled in 2 TDs but this Rams outfit is not the Seahawks. It would not surprise me if this is the game we see flashbacks of bad Carson Wentz, likely he will need to force plays to stay in the game, or hold the ball too long, either way turnovers likely follow. The spread in this one is one I am taking ALL day long.

Dolphins 20 Bills 23

Spread: Bills -3.5

Pick confidence: 70%

As a Dolphins fan I am still surprised when we win games at the moment. The team has plenty of talent on both sides of the ball with a ball-hawking defense led by Xavien Howard and a set of skill position players in Waddle, Parker, Gesicki and Gaskin that should cause plenty of problems to opposing defenses. That really leaves just quarterback as the reason for my surprise, I don’t feel confident that we can march down the field and score. We need to rely on field position and short fields to overcome limited play from the games most important position. I imagine this is what Bills felt during Allen’s first two seasons! Need to see more from Tua before I pick with him against top tier opposition. The Bill struggled mightily last week, but if they can lean on the run game here, an area the Patriots had success then they should be able to put enough points on this defense to see this one out. Singletary might be the difference maker in this game, with some Josh Allen lasers mixed in.

Jets 10 Patriots 26

Spread: Patriots -6.5

Pick confidence: 90%

I found the Dolphins game a very strange game to watch as a long time Dolphins fan. It was like watching the Patriots you grew to despise and respect at the same time. The 2nd and 6 you knew one way or another would be converted, whether it was in one 7 yard play or two 3 and 4 yard plays. The defense allowed you to move the ball but suddenly stiffened once it came time to put the points on the board. Then the Patriots lost. The matriculating offense and bend but don’t break defense that served the organisation so well seemed to be there but without it’s teeth. Mac Jones is not Tom Brady, and I don’t think anyone is confusing the two, but the game plan is similar, the pieces have changed and in time I fear the Patriots machine will resurface. It didn’t last weekend, uncharacteristic fumbles and miscues costing the W. The Fins are a different proposition to the Jets though. A gun shy Tua is one thing, a not gun shy Wilson may fall prey to the Belichick treatment that had Sam Darnold seeing ghosts. This feels like a game where the Patriots D does the work and the offense does it’s thing without needing fireworks. I expect turnovers from this Patriots defense, going on a limb I’m going to call a defensive score here. I haven’t spoken much about the Jets but until they provide any meaningful support to their starting quarterback, on offense or defense it feels a little pointless.

Bears 23 Bengals 24

Spread: Bears -2

Pick confidence: 51%

This is a tough one to call. The Bengals barely overcame a Vikings squad that did not bring it’s A game. The ears hung with the Rams for a half then were put away with some ease after that. An Andy Dalton led offense these days has a ceiling, and not a high one. The sooner the keys are handed to Justin Fields, the sooner the Bears become a much more interesting proposition, with a higher ceiling. The Bengals offense will continue to press all game, and with the balance they showed last week should be able to take advantage of this Bears defense enough times to ensure that Bears ceiling is not a problem. The concern here is the Bears front vs the Bengals offensive line. If the offensive line holds up then the Bengals have more talent on offense to take this matchup vs a Dalton led Bears team. How long will the Dalton rope be though? In truth this game could go either way and may be determined by in game changes, Fields, or individual performances, Khalil Mack? My prediction reflects the ceiling imposed on this Bears team by the coaching staff.

Buccaneers 42 Falcons 24

Spread: Buccaneers -12.5

Pick confidence: 95%

The first 40 point prediction of the year! There don’t tend to be many. Seeing what the Eagles did to this Falcons defense must have Brady chomping at the bit to get out there on Sunday. The Bucs offense looked sharp against the Cowboys with Antonio Brown looking like the guy who dominated the league for so long, and Gronk balling out like he was in his prime. Those two accounted for 3 scores and they are not even in the top two weapons on this team. Likely Brady gets all day to pick apart this Falcons secondary given the D-line are not likely to generate pressure, move Brady off the spot or force the ball out off schedule. This game basically has the highest pick confidence I will give, I’m still a believer that this Falcons offense will score plenty of points over the course of the year, even after they shat the bed in week 1. I wouldn’t even rule out a high scoring game that puts the spread in jeopardy. There just is not enough defensively for the Falcons for me to make a case that this game is anything other than a comfortable Bucs win.

Cardinals 30 Vikings 20

Spread: Cardinals -3.5

Pick confidence: 75%

Ah the Cardinals. I said in last weeks picks that a Cards win would be no surprise over a favoured Titans team, based on pure talent alone. I do still want to see consistency from Arizona but on gut feel watching the game last weekend I think this team is here to compete consistently this year. Murray won’t account for 5 TDs every week, nor will Chandler Jones account for 5 sacks every week, but those are both examples of exceptional production and the upper limits for this team. DeAndre Hopkins statistically took the second half off last week, a good sign for the team if not for fantasy owners as Murray spread the ball around and warmed up the other weapons this team has. I’m not sure the dizzying heights of last week are in store but this offense will be productive against a fairly good Vikings defensive unit. On the other side, the Vikings sputtering offense will find it’s feet with too much talent not to. It may not be this week against a team who can pressure the QB and tackle well on the back end. A defensive score for the Cardinals would not surprise me in this one, I feel confident about the spread in the Cardinals favour here. My pick confidence would be higher if I still didn’t have the nagging consistency worry around this Cardinals team. The Lions, they lost to the Lions in week 2 last year.

Seahawks 27 Titans 24

Spread: Seahawks -6

Pick confidence: 60%

Russell Wilson only attempted 23 passes in week 1, but still racked up 254 yards and 4 TDs. The ground game went off for 140 yards on 27 carries, good enough for 5.2 a carry and tied third best rate in the league. That kind of balance with Wilson’s talent and deep ball prowess is the stuff of dreams for Pete Carroll and the Seahawks fans. It also bodes well against a Titans team who could not defend either in week 1 against a mobile quarterback chucking it deep. On all evidence from last week this game should be a Seahawks win and move on. This Titans team just has too much offensive talent to be held down. Derrick Henry’s best performances often come immediately after his worst. We are talking like 200 yard performances here as well. Not suggesting that is realistic, or that I think he is going to hit that mark, but he will be better and the coaching staff will ensure he gets his opportunity. You bet Julio Jones worked out the week 1 issues and miscues this week. I expect a different Titans offense to show up. However an anaemic pass rush isn’t going to get it done against Russell Wilson, who even after taking 3 sacks in week 1 on 23 attempts will have enough time to do damage. The improved Seahawks defense looks more equipped to put Tannehill under duress and force a mistake that might just be the difference in this game. Like the spread here, not often you will get a shot at Tennessee +6, against a team that generally lives in the realm of dramatic finishes.

Chargers 28 Cowboys 31

Spread: Chargers -3.5

Pick confidence: 51%

This pick is honestly more a gut feel pick than it is based on anything tangible. As noted above the Chargers win came down to Justin Herbert who made 3 completions of more than 15 yards on 3rd down in crucial spots in the game. That was against a Washington D led by Chase Young and a talented group of pass rushers. The Cowboys just lost Demarcus Lawrence and Randy Gregory for this game (and more in the case of Lawrence) so where will the pressure on Herbert come from? Trevon Diggs played well against Mike Evans last week and may stymie some of the Chargers wideouts but he won’t cover Keenan Allen on third down. Can anyone? Th LA defense is stout and looked good last week, but the Bucs D is stout and Dak pretty much had his way there. This may be a bit of a shootout and with nothing but a feeling this falls to the Cowboys I’ll not linger here any longer before I change to the more sensible pick…..

Ravens 24 Chiefs 30

Spread: Chiefs -3.5

Pick confidence: 75%

There are two great QB talents taking the field here on Sunday, but for me there is a chasm between them. Mahomes is a generational talent at the position, very much a player able to play from the pocket but with a possibly unseen before talent to play from just about anywhere else a QB can find themselves. The wow moments never stop coming and with one Superbowl ring under his belt already no one is betting against there being more. Jackson on the other hand, is not your prototypical QB and his strength lies in his legs, speed and athleticism. He can play from the pocket but is not in the same league in that regard as Mahomes. For me the difference always plays out in these big games, and as you have seen in Raven’s playoff games with Jackson. The number of QBs who’s strength lies in their running ability, who have chalked up a Superbowl win in the era of ultra athletic, dual threat QBs is none. QB mastery from the pocket still rules. I actually really like Jackson and he alone almost swayed me from the above belief last season as I almost bought in to a Ravens playoff run going into the business end of the season. The Ravens D let the Raiders skill position players go wild after starting strong. This is a different set of skill position players on the Chiefs team, a better set so I don’t see the Ravens slowing the Chiefs enough to allow Jackson and a sputtering supporting run game to take over this matchup.

Packers 35 Lions 24

Spread: Packers -11.5

Pick confidence: 60%

The Lions D may just be the salve Aaron Rodgers and the Packers offense need after the disastrous showing last weekend. The 9ers racked up 40+ points on this unit which won’t present as tougher opposition as the Saints. Look for Rodgers to go to Davante Adams early and often to build rhythm and momentum. I’m saying Rodgers 4 TDs, Adams hauls in 2 of them. The Lions may find themselves in a similar situation to last weekend, playing from behind. I can’t imagine the same kind of fireworks two weeks in a row though. I expect an improved performance from the Packers D, it is not asking much, I also don’t think it will be great but the Lions will have to go for TDs to stay in this game and so some points may be left out on the field. It was hard to evaluate the Lions offense given the game script that played out, we may be saying the same thing next week.

[marinette-buginette]

Knight Takes Queen

Hello everyone, this is a Marichat musketeers au. And I am gifting it to @therosecat8 for being such an awesome friend.

AO3

Warning: This an be considered M, even if just lightly

“My apologies sire, but the Queen requested to be left alone in her chambers. She locked the doors, no one is allowed to enter.”

Adrien Agreste, better known by his alias Chat Noir, looked in surprise at the servant. “My memory might fool me, but I believe I had an appointment with the Queen.”

Albeit, he didn’t make it under his name, he wanted to surprise her. But still, an appointment it was.

The maid simply shook her head. “The Queen requested all the meetings that she had today to either be postponed or canceled.”

Something was not right here. This wasn’t something the queen would do out of the blue, there must be a serious reason behind all of this. But it seemed the servant had a strong will that wasn’t close to bending anytime soon. So Chat decided there were other methods.

“Mademoiselle,” he took his hat off and bowed. “Thank you for your time.”

And with that, the musketeer turned around and disappeared through the halls of the palace.

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

Adrien Agreste was known as Chat Noir. The black cat among the Musketeers. And for more than one reason. He took a glance down at the gardens under him. About four floors until the ground. Pretty impressive if he had to say so himself. He pushed the windows open with ease and steppe on the inner window still.

“Well, Your Majesty how come… “ the words froze in his throat at the sight before him.

The chamber was a mess. The furniture was sprawled all around the room, some of it broken. The curtains had been torn to pieces, as was a good part of the canopy of the bed. There were red stains on it and on the wall. And in the middle of the floor, a figure clad in red laid motionless.

“Marinette!” he shouted in panic, leaving courtesies aside and jumping in the room.

He touched her shoulder, turning her over slightly. there was no blood dripping from her, sans some small scratches. A good sign, a good sign.

“Marinette, Marinette. Mon amour, please, please…” his gloved hand reached for the pulse point on her neck. His heart almost jumped out of his chest as he searched for any sign that she was still alive. Anything, any small… there. There was a pulse. He could at least…

Marinette’s eyes snapped open, taking a second to focus properly, before glancing up at him.

Chat let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He couldn't put into words the wave of relief that just washed over him.

“Chat Noir?” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at him. “You are back?”

He stroked her cheek gently. “Yes, mon amour. But I… I thought you were dead.”

Her eyes hardened. “So did they. I believe I will be left alone for a little while.”

Chat’s jaw clenched. “The cardinal’s assassins? He really won’t stop until he has you dead, won’t he?”

She propped herself on her elbows and glared at nothing in particular. “Of course not. But I should be fine for a while. They will send him a report in Nantes or wherever the hell he is at the moment and that will take time.”

Chat got up, offering her a hand and helping her stand up. She sighed deeply before the gloomy look on her face disappeared, bein replaced by a playful one. She turned around and began playing with the lapels of his coat.

“And when did you get to back to Paris, my loyal musketeer?”

“Just last night, Your Highness. And I had to see you over some very important matters.”

“Oh,” she hummed, reaching for his hat, taking it off and throwing it aside without a care. “And what is the important matter?”

Chat smiled down at her and shrugged his coat to the side, revealing the red ribbon with a small golden ladybug charm, wrapped around his upper arm. Her expression softened.

“You still have it.”

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

*2 weeks prior*

“I do hope this is a good enough farewell gift for you, my queen.” he said cockily while getting up from the floor.

Marinette was leaning against her writing desk, the skirts of her dress crumpled and her hair a disheveled mess.

“My, you certainly know your gifts.” she managed to say through ragged breaths. “I will miss you and your… uncomparable skills while you are away in Calais.”

Chat took her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “No more than I will miss you.” he whispered against her skin.

“Then maybe I should give you something to remember me by.” she stated and he wasn’t sure if she meant literally or was just teasing him.

Slowly, she reached for the complicated updo her hair was put in and pulled out a red ribbon, letting the dark locks fall free over her shoulders. The moonlight filtering through the window gave it a blue tint, making her look almost otherworldly. Chat wondered yet again how in the world he managed to win the love of the most beautiful woman in the world. She raised the ribbon between them, then gently grabbed a golden ladybug sewn into the ribbon. Slowly she brought the amulet to her lips and pressed a kiss against it.

“For good luck,” she told him as she began wrapping it around his arm. “For my most loyal musketeer.”

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

“Of course I have it.” he said, while stroking her hair. “Losing the queen’s favor would have been quite horrible, wouldn’t it? It did indeed bring me luck.”

Marinette smiled at him, he fingers playing with the laces of his shirt. “And the spy cell of the Cardinal up there?”

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. “Oh, there was this horrible fire, and the hut of the so-called fisherman burned to the ground with them all inside. Tragical really, I wish I could have saved more than just a book of reports from there.”

Marinette’s smile grew as he took out a small leader wrapped journal and set it on her writing desk.

“Oh, Chaton, you are truly the best thing I had found in this wretched land.” her voice dropped and her blue eyes glinted mischievously as she whispered the next words. “Now how shall I compensate you for your efforts?”

The question was rhetorical, of course. If her playful tone wasn’t enough of the hint, the fact that she was pushing him back to the bed (with a surprising amount of force for such a petite woman) certainly said enough.

“Wait, wait, wait.” he pleaded, getting a hold of her hands to stop her from ripping his shirt open. “You’ve been attacked, you got some small wounds, shouldn’t you see a healer or… “

Marinette placed her index finger over his lips. “You are sweet to care, Chaton, but I am perfectly fine. I won’t die from a couple of scratches. Now do I need to command you to get undresses and help me break the bed or will you be a good kitten and do it on your own.”

Chat smirked, amused by her antics. “Well, if my queen wishes so, I can’t refuse her.”

In a quick movement, he shed his coat, letting it pool in a heap on the floor as his arms wrapped around Marinette bringing her as close as possible. They lips clashed together as he moved closer to the bed, almost carrying Marinette in his arms at this point.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice was telling him that a musketeer of the king has no place bedding the queen. But frankly, Chat Noir couldn’t care less and he was no musketeer of the king. He was hers. Her musketeer, lover, confident and whatever else she needed him to be. All the laws could go to hell, along with the cardinal and his warmongering plots and King Theo and his crass incompetence and ostentatiousness. As far as he was concerned, the queen was the only one capable of doing something for the kingdom and its people and he had decided a long time ago to protect her. It was just that along the way he might have fallen madly in love with her cleverness, stubbornness, wit, and kindness. And he couldn't regret it for one second.

“Chat… “ Marinette whispered against his lips as they broke their kiss to catch their breaths.

“I love you.” he stated loudly cupping her face and looking into her eyes, hoping she could see his honesty. It was the first time when he said it out loud.

“Oh,” Marinette gave him a bright smile. “Oh, minou, I know.”

And with that, he pulled him in another long, passionate kiss. Chat Noir smiled against her lips. the night was young and they intended to make most out of it.