#also hate the sound giants make when they walk. it sounds mechanic for some reason

[hauntingblue]

Big mom backstory time?????

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 37

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: New Year’s Eve, pt 2

A/N: A new chapter! We'll finally find out what happened after that annoying cliffhanger in the previous one. Anyway, I would like to note that this chapter deals with some mental health related issues and there is also a mention of a shooting (note: mention) so if you'd rather avoid that kind of stuff, then it may be better to skip this chapter.

That said, I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter! And don't forget that I'm always really happy to hear from you guys!

Words: 3500+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: panic attack, mentions of shooting 

previous chapter / AO3

...

“Calypso, I think you should come. Something’s not right with Leo.”

It took Calypso a moment to register what Nico had said. She just kept staring at him, a frown creeping on her face as she was trying to figure out if she had heard him correctly.

“Something’s… not right with Leo? Wha-what do you mean?” She finally managed to ask.

“We were just talking… I don’t know, not about anything special… and suddenly some fireworks went off nearby. Like, too close for it to be legal. He got really restless - even more than usual - and he wanted to go and look for you but given his state I told him it was probably better if he sat down while I would find you.”

“When you say restless, what exactly do you mean?” Calypso asked.

“He was shaking and his breathing was labored and he got this panicked look on his face… as if he was seeing something I couldn’t see. And when I tried to talk to him, he didn’t respond. He started tapping with his fingers, like he was trying to message me something that way. I don’t know. But I think he’s having a panic attack.”

Calypso’s heart sank. She wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with panic attacks either so she knew how horrifying it could feel. Based on her own experiences, when you were having one, it was really, really hard to convince your brain that it was going to be OK. It just wouldn’t listen. And that could go on for a long while. The worst part was that it could get triggered totally unexpectedly, like now in the middle of the party.

“Oh gods… where is he now? I don’t think he should be alone.” In that moment Calypso didn’t care what the others thought about her worrying; her instinct to be with him was much stronger.

“He’s still in the kitchenette…” Nico responded and Calypso didn’t waste any time, marching out of the balcony as fast as she could.

“So, you think the fireworks triggered the panic attack?” she asked Nico over her shoulder while she was walking.

It took him some effort to keep up with her. “Probably. Before it happened, he was just explaining to me that his family always needed to put Festus into the most light and sound proof room of his home during New Year and 4th of July because he really hated the fireworks. Apparently Festus’ fear is one of the reasons why he himself doesn’t like them.”

“That would certainly make sense,” Calypso agreed. She didn’t have time to ask more when they already reached Leo’s resting spot. Even though she had seen him angry and scared before, this felt different compared to those times. He had wrapped his arms around his shaky legs and when he heard the others approaching, he looked up, his eyes bewildered. Calypso even noticed that there was also wetness on his cheeks and she needed to brace herself so that she didn’t start tearing up as well. She sat down next to him and started speaking in as soothing a voice as she was capable of in that situation.

“Leo… It’s gonna be OK. I’m right here.” She started stroking his back with light, gentle motions.

“Cal?” He muttered with a broken voice. “Thank goodness… I was afraid that…”

“Afraid of what?” Calypso frowned, still trying to sound as calm as possible. “That I was going to go somewhere?”

“Not… here…” he murmured, referring to the fact that they had several pairs of ears listening to them.

“Oh. Right,” she replied understandingly. “Hey… I’m going to ask Frank if he’d allow you to rest in his bedroom for a moment. You know… just until this passes.”

“Fine,” Leo nodded slightly. Luckily Calypso didn’t have to go searching because Frank entered the room as if on cue.

“Frank, I think Leo needs some quiet space for a moment,” Calypso told him when he was observing the situation. “Can we borrow your bedroom?”

“Sure, of course,” Frank agreed instantly.

“Thanks a lot. Don’t worry, you’ll get your room back once he recovers,” Calypso addressed Frank before turning back to Leo. “OK, let’s go then.”

She took his hand and pulled him up, directing him towards the bedroom. When she turned to give the hosts a reassuring nod, she noticed they were watching her and Leo worriedly.

“Uh, do you need any company there?” Hazel asked.

“What do you say, Leo?” Calypso didn’t want to make any decisions for him.

“Just Cal is fine,” he muttered.

“Thanks, though,” Calypso addressed Hazel. “I will let you know if I need any help. I, um, have some experience with this kind of stuff so I think I can handle it.”

“Alright. We’ll make sure no one interrupts him,” Hazel referred to the other guests who were still partying on the other side of the wall. Calypso didn’t understand how anyone could still feel festive but then again, they didn’t know her boyfriend like she did.

Closing the door behind her, Calypso helped Leo on Frank’s bed and turned on a light on the bedside table. Then she sat down next to him and swept his hair from his eyes, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. When she pulled away, she sighed:

“I’ve also had panic attacks in the past. I’m no expert by any means, but for me, it usually helps a bit if I lie down and just try to focus on my breathing. Maybe you could try that.”

“Alright,” Leo complied. He laid down on the bed, using her legs as a pillow for his head, and rested his hands over his chest. Calypso ran her fingers through his hair and kept talking to him soothingly.

“So what I do is that I breathe in slowly – I try to count to four when I do that – then I hold it for a moment, and then breathe out just as slowly. And repeat.”

Leo blinked to let her know he understood and followed her advice. Calypso knew that she should try to reduce the distractions in that situation so she didn’t say anything for a while; she just kept combing his hair with her fingers and humming the first song that came to her mind; New Year’s Day.

“Do you feel any better?” she asked once Leo’s hyperventilating seemed to have calmed down somewhat. She herself felt lighter as well seeing that he was starting to recover.

“A bit,” Leo answered hoarsely.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes a moment to pass but you’ll get there,” she said encouragingly. “Just keep your eyes closed and try to focus on something that keeps you grounded to this moment. Like something you feel or hear or smell or anything…”

“I like it when you play with my hair. It feels nice,” Leo stated bluntly.

“OK. I’ll keep doing that, then.”

It was quiet for a while again, aside from the sounds outside the room. Calypso was thankful that the firework sounds weren’t that loud at that moment because it could have set back Leo’s recovery process.

“Talk to me,” he said suddenly. “About anything.”

“Alright.” Calypso stopped to decide a topic for a moment. “This may sound weird, but when I’m having one of my bad moments, I try to picture my happy place. I think that was something my mum advised me to do already when I was a kid.”

“What is your happy place like then?” Leo asked quietly.

A tiny smile raised on Calypso’s lips when she started imagining it.

“It’s some place warm. Somewhere where I can see the sun shining and birds singing and smell the salty sea air and maybe some eucalyptus trees… Earlier… when I tried picturing it… I was usually alone there. Like, I wasn’t able to picture anyone else with me there for some reason.” She was glad that Leo couldn’t see her blushing because his eyes were closed. Normally, she would have a hard time admitting these kinds of things but seeing Leo’s vulnerable state, she felt her walls disappear. “But now? I think I’d want you to be there too. And why not Festus and maybe some other animals too if you liked that. Georgina doing her things somewhere in the background. And… Well, that was it.” Calypso did have another wish too, but it was way too personal and way too early into their relationship to even mention it, especially in the current situation.

“I think that sounds great,” Leo answered. A tiny, lopsided smile appeared on his face briefly and Calypso took that as a good sign. He wasn’t trembling anymore either.

“Yeah. Well, what about you? What’s your happy place?”

Leo thought about it for a while. “I… I feel most comfortable with my machines. So… I think I’d like to be in a giant garage. Where it smells like machine oil and where I get to listen to Rolling Stones or some other old school rock bands…”

Calypso remembered that Leo had once told her his mom had used to listen to those bands. “I get why you would want that, but wouldn’t it be lonely there?” she asked.

“No,” Leo shook his head. “I wouldn’t be alone there. I would like you to be there too. If you wanted to. And of course my family and Festus too.”

“But what would I do in your garage?” Calypso asked confusedly.

“You would have your own space there,” Leo answered slowly. “You know, for your own things. Sewing machine, fabrics, painting equipment, you name it. Maybe there would be a greenhouse outside the garage for your plants… or a garden… Whatever you prefer.”

“Oh.” Calypso’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when she tried to picture it. Leo had clearly thought about this topic more than she had expected. “That sounds amazing…”

She was already going to change the topic when Leo surprised her again by continuing: “You and I are both good with our hands, making new things, so we could try to create something together, combining our skills. Who knows, maybe we could even start a company or something together. Once we’ve graduated, of course.”

“Hold on.” Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Would you actually want to do that?”

“Yeah, why not?” Leo asked, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Calypso. In the darkness of the room they looked almost black but the lamp on the bedside table gave them a warm glow.

“You mean it?” Calypso had never had anyone who would have included her into their future plans in her life before and suddenly she felt a bit overwhelmed with emotion when she understood that someone actually cared about her that much.

“Yeah. Of course. You really think I start joking about that when I’m…” he gestured at himself, “in this state?”

“No, of course not,” Calypso tried to reassure him, removing one of her hands from his hair and squeezing his hand instead. “It’s a… really nice dream. Maybe… if everything goes well… it can become true,” Her voice started cracking because she had just realized how much she’d really want the dream to become true, for both of their sake, but she found it scary to think too far into the future. The quietness from her father’s end kept her on her toes even now and there were a lot of other question marks in the air as well.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not hyperventilating anymore,” Calypso decided to change the topic before she got too sentimental. “That’s good.”

“Your advice really helped,” Leo stated. However, his eyes were focused on something Calypso couldn’t see and that made her believe that something was still bothering him.

“Does this happen to you often?” Calypso wanted to know. “I mean, the panic attacks.”

“Not so often lately,” Leo replied. “Believe it or not, for the past year or so I’ve been pretty good.” He lowered his voice into a whisper when he added: “Even better when I got a new roommate. But before I moved in with my family and got some therapy, it was… it was pretty bad.”

“I hate that you had to go through that…” Calypso tightened her grip on his hand slightly.

“It is what it is,” Leo sighed. “At some point… you almost get used to it. But really, I have made some progress. Um, despite the slight setback at Christmas,” he added when he saw Calypso’s skeptical expression.

“But that was understandable. It can be a difficult time for anyone…” Calypso left the words ‘who has lost someone important to them’ unsaid because she doubted that Leo needed more reminders of that particular incident in that moment.

“Yeah… You might be right,” Leo muttered, and silence fell into the room again. Calypso kept absentmindedly running her thumb on the back of his hand while she listened to the chatting and laughing on the other side of the wall.

Eventually, she asked quietly: “Do you know what caused the attack? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, of course.”

“The fireworks… I remembered some things when I heard the bang…” Leo managed to say.

Calypso raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry if I ask too much, but what things did you remember?”

“It was… I was living on the streets back in those days…”

Calypso allowed Leo to take his time, not pushing him to continue with his answer.

“It was late at night… I was still in Houston back then. I had this spot in the outskirts of the town where I thought I was safe from the cops and other people I didn’t want to run into so I used to hang out there a lot.”

“Safe from cops? What do you mean by that?”

“I knew that if they caught me, they would bring me right back to my old foster home… Or worse, a new one that was even worse than the previous. I’ve told you, I didn’t have good experiences in my foster homes.”

“Yeah… I remember,” Calypso nodded understandingly.

“Besides, I didn’t exactly have a lot of money so I may have had to shoplift once or twice to keep myself alive while I was on the streets. So, not exactly the cops’ best friend. But anyway, that wasn’t the point of this story. I was gonna tell you what happened on one specific day.”

“OK. No rush,” Calypso said. She noticed that Leo seemed to get stiffer again on her lap but as long as still wanted to keep talking, she didn’t want to interrupt.

“So, I was settling into my hiding spot for the night when I heard it. Gunshots nearby. At first I hoped that someone was just out there hunting in the forest, but it was pitch black outside so the timing didn’t make sense. Then I heard footsteps coming closer to where I was hiding and more gunshots. I decided I needed to leave my hiding spot until the people were gone but I made a lot of noise when I tried to withdraw farther from the road so the shooter probably heard me. I don’t really remember what exactly happened after that but I know there was another bang… and a bullet on the tree right behind me… only a few feet from my head.”

“Oh gods,” Calypso gasped. She wished she could say something comforting as a response but it was easier said than done. Leo saved her from the trouble, though, because he added bitterly:

“I got lucky that the shooter had the police after him because he didn’t have time to stop and make sure he had hit me. But… from what I later heard… not everyone was that lucky.” Leo sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the tears.

Calypso clenched her fists. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have made you tell me that. But what… What kind of person does that to other people? Especially to kids? I don’t… I don’t get it…”

“Yeah… me neither.”

“But that incident… The sound of the fireworks made you remember the shooting?” Calypso attempted to connect the dots.

“Yeah... When I heard that sound… I dunno. My mind started racing and I started wondering what if it actually was a shooter and not just some fireworks? I didn’t see where the sound came from because the curtains were closed, after all. And when my mind starts racing, it really starts racing. You weren’t there at that moment so I got afraid that something had happened to you. And the panic attack was ready.”

Calypso understood perfectly. When she was having one of her bad moments, she kept reliving her sister’s accident and worrying it would happen again with someone else. It had taken her a long while to convince herself that it was safe enough to drive a car or to be a passenger in one. Even though she was able to drive again these days, the small nagging noise still hadn’t entirely disappeared from her head and she doubted it ever would.

“Well, I’m here now. I’m alright. You’re alright.” She gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Come here.” She patted the spot next to her to tell him to get up from his lying position so she could hug him. Leo looked at him questioningly for a moment, though.

“But what if someone comes in and sees us?”

“I kinda don’t care right now,” Calypso stated seriously. “Besides… I think we are not that great of actors. They probably know anyway.”

“Alright,” Leo replied and sat up on his spot on the bed. He buried his face against her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, stroking her back as if to get a verification that she was really there with him.

“Gods, I’m making you regret your decision to be my girlfriend, aren’t I?” he mumbled against her skin.

“No,” Calypso said firmly when she broke the hug. “If anything, I think I love you even more when I hear about these things. You’re a really strong person who has just been through too much, too young.”

“But… you shouldn’t have to be my therapist,” Leo noted.

“I don’t see it that way. I want to help you feel better because you’re important to me. Besides...” Calypso added, thinking that a little humor wouldn’t hurt in that situation, “I’m trusting you’ll do the same for me when I need it.”

“Okay, I’ll be prepared,” Leo promised.

Suddenly the two realized that the people outside the room had gathered together and were doing a countdown.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

“Woah, sounds like it’s midnight already. We must have been here for at least an hour…” Calypso said.

“Seven, six, five…”

“Yeah. Time flies fast when you’re having a panic attack,” Leo managed to ‘joke’.

“Four, three, two, one…”

“I don’t get how you can joke about it already, but OK.”

“Happy new year!” yelled a big group of people in sync outside Frank’s bedroom.

“Happy new year,” the flatmates said at the same time.

“Or at least a better year than the previous one,” Leo added. “Although, I will admit it did have some good mo… woah!”

Calypso surprised Leo by gently pulling him closer to her, her hands coming to rest on each side of his neck when her lips touched his. Even though they had already shared a few kisses since the moment when they had decided to cross the line between a friend and a lover, Calypso still felt the sparks flying down her spine like fireworks when she felt Leo responding to it. His lips felt so soft (had he been using lip balm, she wondered) and his body so warm against hers, and it wasn’t until then that she realized that she had been actually feeling rather cold in her dark sleeveless dress.

“Goodness, Cal, you’re freezing,” Leo noted when they broke apart, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “This is where a gentleman would offer you a coat but as it happens, I don’t have one.”

Calypso smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Guess I was at the balcony just a bit too long.”

“Oh. Well, don’t do that again,” Leo said seriously.

“What if I will?” Calypso questioned.

“Then I’ll build a sauna into our flat and make sure you use it no matter what my fear says.”

“Wow. I doubt our landlord would love that. I mean, you building a sauna without permission.”

“Pfft, who cares about his opinion?” Leo asked before turning his attention to the sounds of celebration on the other side of the door. “Hey, should we go back to the others? I think I can handle it now.”

“Alright,” Calypso agreed. “And remember, we can leave any time you feel like it.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded and got up from the bed. They held hands for a moment longer before opening the door and having to act like nothing had happened again. Calypso didn’t mind the acting too much, though, when she saw that Leo was able to smile and joke again. Hopefully that year really would be a better one.

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 24 - Fear

(How about another gift fic? This one is for @clownsuu‘s Yandere!Lewis. What an interesting portrayal of Lewis and the dynamic between him and Arthur, and also perfect for this prompt. I saw that there were no other published works for this little au spin, so I hope you like it! <3)

The fall should have killed him. Whether it had been a surprise or not, Lewis’ motivations were made clear with one small act. Hunt down the man that ruined his life, recreate the location of his demise, and then drop him in the same manner he perished in. But something was wrong. Arthur’s reaction had been unexpected… Shock. How?

And he was still falling. A heart, dark and shattered, the illusion being brushed away. The ringing of the shotgun bringing it all to an end… at least for this one moment. The danger hadn’t retreated just because the spires were gone. There was still the plant woman with a sword in the shape of giant sheers, and even when that was taken care of, their once friend had turned against them.

If there was one thing this made the ghost realize it was that there was more to the story of his death. Well, maybe there were two things. Between the possession, the danger brought about by the ghost’s own hands, and prior experience, it was that Arthur was a magnet for danger. Well, to be fair, all of them were, but the blonde more than any of them. The rest of them had a means of protecting themselves.

Fire for the ghost, ice for the bluenette, and a secret form for the ‘dog.’ What did Arthur have? He had intelligence, creating rather than fighting. Even in a fight, he ran more than throwing a punch.

Perhaps it was that conclusion that caused Lewis to follow his former best friend. He had come back to the group, all of them working to adjust to one another. Tension ran between them, especially between the two men. This wasn’t unexpected considering the circumstances around their situations. The ghost held his attention on the metal arm, having been one of the other changes to the blonde’s life. The greatest thing taken away from his once friend, and only fueled the new goal to make sure nothing else happened to him.

Anytime there was a choice to split up, Lewis insisted on going with Arthur. It was one of the most unpredictable decisions of their new dynamic. This new desire to make sure the blonde remained safe was a bit strange, but no one saw a reason to argue against it. If anything, Vivi and Mystery saw this as a good opportunity for Lewis and Arthur to rebond. Even the blonde seemed on board with this plan the more times he was placed in the ghost’s care.

Everything was going fine except for one problem.

The blonde was still not entirely safe.

He could use his powers to protect him, but he couldn’t always account for stray targets moving for him, or what the outcome would be if his partner decides to run rather than stick around for his protection. More over was the danger he couldn’t protect the man from when they were on their downtime. There was no denying that Arthur had his problems, ones Lewis got to see first hand; and even though they were getting better, there were still moments when they would creep up.

What was he meant to do about these? Kind words of encouragement didn’t seem to do much.

Arthur had to admit that things were starting to go from alright to a little uncomfortable. There was quite the difference from endearing worry to hovering over him. Even when asking for a little more space, he could swear the feeling of someone watching him was always lingering. It was hard to find a reason as to why this was happening. Why would Lewis change so much? Sure, he was glad the two of them reconciled on past events, but then why was the ghost continuing to hang so close?

The best he could do for now was ignore it.

Lewis was hatching other plans.

Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure what brought on this new drive to make sure his blonde friend was safe. Perhaps out of guilt over nearly bringing death over a misunderstanding? Perhaps now seeing just how much risk this one friend was putting himself in? The way this friend was destroying himself when it seemed like no one was looking? In life, he would have done anything to make sure his best friend was taken care of.

Now that relations were repairing, why should he stop that promise?

The ghost found himself in the blonde’s room one night, watching the way he tossed and turned. It hurt watching the way his face scrunched up, sometimes having tears fall from his eyes. Large hands and arms wrapped around the man’s trembling frame. Arthur’s body seemed to turn towards his chest, making the ghost hold him closer. This had to stop.

He floated through the door, leaving the blonde’s home, and made his way towards a familiar mansion.

When he woke the next morning, it wasn’t hard to tell something was wrong. He looked around, confused as to why there was so much purple in his room. The more he woke up, the more a certain fact clicked in his head. This wasn’t his room. His work table was gone, and this room was far too clean to be his own. Even so, he knew where he was.

And this was confirmed when the ghost walked through the door, “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Lew? What happened? Why am I here in the mansion?”

“I brought you here.”

“Well yeah… I got that, but why?”

There was a long pause. That was something that made the blonde uneasy. Why did something about this feel so wrong about this? Lewis finally spoke again, “You were having a nightmare. I thought you might be better here. You did seem to calm down some when I did.”

“Oh… thanks Lew.”

“I’m making some breakfast if you’d like it.”

“Yeah… that sounds nice…”

The ghost disappeared, leaving the mechanic all on his own. He could see a set of his usual clothes resting on the dresser. Did Lewis think of everything? The only missing aspect in this room were many pieces of metal and papers with detailed blueprints across the floor. He pushed himself out of bed, changed, and made his way to where he remembered the kitchen being. Sure enough, there was the suit-wearing ghost, plating up breakfast. He managed a smile, “Hey Lew. I’ll have to go to work after this. Did you happen to bring the van with you?”

“Oh, no I didn’t. I guess I could get you to Kingsmen.” Two plates were set down, a chair pulled out for the blonde friend.

Arthur took a seat, looking at the amount on the plate in front of him. It was far more than he usually ate. Maybe he should have expected this. After all, it was the Pepper cooking. This was normal. He reached for his fork, starting, “Yeah? I would appreciate that.”

Lewis didn’t like how some of his food was going to waste. It got to one point where the blonde was just pushing it around. That was something he would have to work on. Guess he couldn’t exactly force the man to eat. The noise was starting to grate on both of them, a good sign that it was time to go. He held his end of the promise, taking his friend to his workplace, though turned invisible rather than leaving.

He couldn’t leave. He had to make sure everything was going to be alright.

As the day went on, the more antsy the ghost was becoming. It was true his friend slept a little better, but that didn’t fully change his fatigued state. There were still circles under his eyes, lack of sleep and nightmares were the direct cause. It didn’t help that since the cave, he’d grown a tendency to stay up far later than normal working on one of his many projects. Sometimes it wasn’t even the same one. Just another problem to fix for his safety.

Speaking of his safety, or rather it was the lack of this which was causing the unwanted visitor to become increasingly worried. Accidental injury was not uncommon here, and just because it happened to the metal arm rather than his flesh one didn’t change the fact that it was dangerous. Imagine what would be done if it was still flesh…

No, he didn’t like that image, and the more it sank in, the more he hated it. This had to be fixed too.

By the end of the day, Arthur had begun to walk home, seeing as his ride was still not here. His uncle could probably give him one, but why bother him with that? His eyes popped open when he felt himself being lifted off the ground, a pang of fear racing through him, “Whaaa?”

“It’s just me Artie.”

“Oh Lew. Are you taking me home?”

“Yeah.” Sort of.

He was flying in the direction of the mansion. That wasn’t home. The blonde dared a small pull on the sleeve of the suit, “Umm.. Lew, my home is the other way.” But Lewis ignored him. Ignored him.It was so off putting, one that made worry strike. He tried again, “Lew?” Once again ignored.

Lewis knew what he had to do. He had to keep Arthur safe. He wasn’t safe at Kingsmen. When they returned to the mansion, the ghost promptly took his friend to his room, and sat him down on the bed. He turned around, floating towards the door, “It’s been a long day. You should try and get some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“Lew!”

The door shut, a distinct click following it. Lewis actually locked him in.

The blonde began to tremble. What was happening to his best friend? Did something happen at one of their jobs that changed him like this? Maybe Vivi would know something that could lift whatever was causing the ghost to behave so strangely. Ok, then all he had to do was make it to tomorrow. He’d be off from work anyways for their usual going out days.

Sure enough, Lewis came back, but whatever appetite that might have been there was gone. His head turned away, “I think I may just go to bed, Lew. I’m not really hungry.” There it was again, this strange habit of not eating anything. Magenta on black narrowed pushing the plate towards his friend. He had to eat something, “Eat Arthur.”

There was that fear coming back for the blonde. The tone of voice… so commanding. It was as if he put a hidden threat behind those words. Swallowing silently, he took the plate, working to push past the sick feeling in his stomach so that he could eat, even if that meant releasing it all once the ghost left. Which he wasn’t doing. He was watching him eat.

When the plate was nearly empty, he offered it back to his friend, “I really can’t eat anymore Lew, I’m sorry.”

Lewis looked it over, apparently satisfied enough to give a nod, “Alright. Get some sleep then Arthur.”

Lewis might have left right after that, but the feeling of being watched continued to linger through the room for the entire night.

The next morning was not that surprising, almost a repeat of the last morning and night in the mansion. He was expected to eat, no matter how much he didn’t want to, or how sick it seemed to make him. When prompting the idea to go into town, at least the ghost seemed to be alright with the idea… so long as he could come with. Actually, that might not be a bad idea. He’d get the chance to see Vivi and Mystery again. Maybe it would be something all of them needed.

Lewis was a little on edge. He’d changed his form back into his old look, sunglasses to cover his eyes so no one would suspect his true condition. Anyone around them could be a danger. He kept his watch. It wasn’t until Tomb Tome came into view that worry spiked again. He shouldn’t be. He knew who would be here. Vivi and Mystery. His love, their mascot.

One of them was a liar. The one that ripped Arthur’s arm off in the first place.

Ok, so he had to keep Arthur away from Mystery, but Vivi couldn’t possibly be unsafe. But then what about all of the blonde’s habits? Why didn’t she help him? Surely they wouldn’t have spiraled as much as they had at the start of this whole mess. She should have done more.

If she wasn’t much help then, then what help would she be now/ She couldn’t keep Arthur safe. Neither one of them could.

Arthur appeared to be picking up the pace, especially when it looked like the bluenette was about to make her way out the door. Without much thought, the ghost took a hold of the metal wrist, knowing he’d be able to hold it harder than his real one, dragging his friend away. This was a mistake. They had to go back to the mansion, even if that meant dragging the blonde all the way back like this.

When they did finally return, Arthur tugged harder on the metallic limb, finally getting it free. Amber eyes narrowed to his friend, “What the hell Lewis? Why did we leave?! They were right there!!” Once again, the ghost didn’t say anything. Why should he? Why didn’t Arthur understand everything was being done for his safety. He was the only one that could keep him safe. Instead of giving an answer, he took hold of the wrist again, pulling his friend back towards his room. He gently sat him down, feeling the trembling his friend was producing. It would be alright. He’d stop soon and see his best friend was just trying to help him.

All it took was time.

And nothing seemed to get better. If anything, it got worse.

If Arthur feared the Lewis that was gunning him down in an effort to end his life, then this one was far more terrifying. One small step out of line and there was no telling what the ghost would do.

When he tried to escape out the window, Lewis at first boarded it up, but then made it disappear completely upon other multiple attempts. The ghost had been kind enough to transfer over the blonde’s workspace, tools, and materials, if only to give him something to do while in his room. With said tools, Arthur had tried picking the lock on the door, but with no success. Whenever he was allowed out of his room, Lewis stuck to him like glue.

He’d tried to run before, having gotten a better idea of the mansion’s layout, but the front doors were always locked, and before he could reach a window, a chill was sent down his spine, feeling another soul dancing with his’ inside his body. Possession. Of anyone present to learn the truth of the cave, he would think the ghost would understand the most what fear came with this feeling. His body moving on its own. If he could shriek, he would.

Every time the ghost resorted to such a measure, it left the blonde trembling beyond reason, digging up memories he wished would be buried forever.

Meals and sleep were not any better. Lewis was constantly cooking for him, and when he wasn’t feeling hungry, or couldn’t eat everything on his plate, he was forced to finish. Sometimes it would be through possession, but other times, more drastic measures were taken. When it came to sleep, well there wasn’t any. Even the nightmares were preferable than having the ghost watching him all night. The only times he did seem to be sleeping were when he had no other choice than to pass out from sheer exhaustion. Every time he woke up, he would find himself tucked in bed, the ghost never too far away.

How long has this been going on now? Months? To be honest, the blonde was losing track, and the fear growing inside of him wasn’t ever going down. He had to confront Lewis about this or nothing was going to change.

Sure enough, the moment he was allowed out of his room, the ghost was there. Fear was holding him back from speaking. No, he had to do this.

“Lewis.”

“Yeah Artie?” That nickname.

“Lewis, this has to stop.”

Both of them stood still, the ghost falling silent. His arms crossed. This wasn’t going to stop. He was the only one able to keep the blonde safe. No one else. Anyone he previously might have trusted became nothing more than another resident of Tempo. There was no connection to them, not even the once love of his life.

“Lewis!” Oh, he must have gotten lost in thought.

“Lewis listen to me!” He turned his back on his friend.

“What are you planning to do with me?! Keep me locked up til I die?! What about Vivi?! Or Lance?!” Silence.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

Oh, he was listening alright. When the ghost turned back around, fear was coursing through the blonde’s body. He’d done what he needed to do, and now it was Lewis’ turn to correct this. He ran.

The ghost was never far behind, and once caught up, a very familiar chill ran over the fear. Lewis had possessed him again. Rather than walking him back to his room, or somewhere else in the mansion, his body stood perfectly still. Arthur’s soul was trembling, but soon felt an embrace. A terrified wail echoed around him, a small ‘shhhh’ following it. As if that was supposed to calm him down. A voice was heard, but it didn’t put him at any ease.

“Don’t worry Artie. You’re safe with me.”

[ineverlookavvay]

bisexual-aliens-in-arms

Isobel drags Michael to Planet 7 for pride night. It goes far better than expected.

Bi Visibility Day - Day 7 of Michael Guerin Week 2020

cw: alcohol, referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia

Read it on Ao3

“No, “ Michael said, aiming for firm.  “I don’t have time, Iz.”

Isobel scoffed.  “What, are you going to be working on cars all night long?”

There was actually a fairly big backlog of cars to work on, and Michael found he needed the distraction more often than not recently.  Life was complicated, increasingly so, and cars were simple, designed to be a certain way and logically never stray from that.  People sucked a lot more than cars, objectively.  

“Maybe I am.”

“Michael.”  Isobel leaned down onto the hood of the car he was trying to work on, annoyingly in his way.  She was giving him her ‘cut the bullshit’ look, which he was historically not very good at escaping.  “It’s one night, and it’s important to me.  Please come out?”

“I don’t do theme nights.”

Isobel scoffed again, rolling her eyes and trodding directly onto his ego.  “Come on, Michael.  This is my first pride month and you’re supposed to be my bisexual-alien-in-arms.”  She changed tactic abruptly, making the most irritating pouty face he’d ever seen.  “You’re not really going to make me go alone, are you?”

Michael sighed, wiping grease off his hands onto his jeans.  Fucking hell.  “Fine, but you gotta leave me alone for at least a few hours, okay?”  Isobel clapped gleefully.  “You know, some of us work.”

“Let me know if any of those people want a job,” Sanders cut in, ducking in on his way out, looking at Michael’s progress skeptically and ignoring Michael’s scowl.  “Do some damn work.”

“Hell does it look like I’m doing?” Michael called out as Sanders left, still scowling.  Michael fixed a tight smile on Isobel.  “Later, okay?”

She shrugged.  “Fine, but be ready to go at eight.  And try not to look so…” she waved her hand at his general appearance, “mechanic-y.”

Michael wanted to protest that he always looked ‘mechanic-y’ on account of he was a damn mechanic, and besides, the grungy blue-collar cowboy look was still popular as far as he could tell; but seeing as he’d already caved, he would certainly end up losing this argument, too.  So instead, he turned his attention back to the cars.  Michael liked working with his hands, he liked fixing things.  Sure, he might fuck up every relationship he’d ever had, he might break the things in his life constantly, but he could take a broken car and make it a working car, and that was something.  

He was not so secretly dreading the evening, though.  He let himself drift far enough into his work that he wasn’t actively panicking about going to a damn pride night at the local gay bar, which he’d never actually been to, no matter how many times Isobel tried to convince him how great it was.  It’s not that Michael was ashamed, he really wasn’t—but he’d experienced enough bigots and assholes in his life to know that he didn’t need to paint an extra target on his back, either.  

Who he fucked was his own business, and that was how he preferred to keep it.  Isobel was reveling in her newfound sexuality, and he wasn’t about to ruin that for her, but he also knew that a rich white woman was a lot less of a target than a trailer trash cowboy.  He also had an existential dread of any place that resulted in Isobel leaving at the end of the night dripping in glitter.    

Michael didn’t do glitter, and he didn’t do pride month—or at least he hadn’t—and he’d much rather just spend a night with Isobel at the Wild Pony celebrating themselves quietly with a drink that didn’t have anything in it besides the liquor.  Hell, they could go there and celebrate themselves raucously, as long as no one had to know the reason for the celebrating.  

His attempt to distract himself resulted in successfully losing track of time, which meant Isobel was already standing in the junkyard tapping her foot when he went inside to shower and change.  

“You don’t have anything cuter than that?” she asked skeptically when he emerged, clean and dressed in a black button-down.  Isobel was wearing a purplish iridescent crop top that probably came out of her closet circa 2010 and incredibly tight dark blue jeans, with multiple strings of shiny necklaces around her neck.  

“Sorry, I don’t own anything that shiny.”  

That got him a smile at least.  “Listen, Michael, the whole point of pride is to look hot,” he was pretty sure that wasn’t true, “get laid,” he was sure that one was wrong, “and be out and proud while doing it.”  She looked so proud of herself right then that Michael didn’t have the heart to argue.  “Plus, the bi flag has really nice colors.”

Michael smiled in spite of himself.  “Iz, you got me to go with you, you really want to jeopardize that by shit talking my clothing?”

Frowning slightly, she shrugged.  “Fine, but this is why no one thinks you’re the fun alien.” 

“Hey!  I am definitely the fun one,” he argued, striding towards her car and settling in for an inane but companionable argument.

Michael liked bars, in general.  He liked the dark corners and the dirty floors and the smell of alcohol and the down home music and the bluster of it all.  He liked sitting at a bar nursing a drink and feeling like a part of something just by virtue of drinking beside other people.  But Michael hated Planet 7. 

First of all, the whole damn place was trying too hard.  It had far too many lights, all of them overly complicated and flashing stupid colors.  It had a DJ instead of a jukebox, which Isobel implied was something special, that he should be pleased to be experiencing, much to his chagrin.  It had more glitter and confetti littering the floor and on the bar and on the tables than Michael had ever hoped to see in one place.  All the drinks were obscured by ridiculous garnishes.  There was someone sitting at the end of the bar stenciling with face paint on people’s faces, another thing Isobel assured him was a fun and exciting theme night thing.  But most of all, it didn’t make Michael feel safe, or comfortable, or known; this wasn’t his place.

Isobel looked like she’d just walked into her surprise birthday party, though, grinning and strutting in like she owned the place.  “Come on, I’ve been dreaming about their drinks,” she said, beaming, and Michael reluctantly followed her over to the bar.  Michael realized quickly that she hadn’t been dreaming about the drink so much as the bartender.  Which, fair enough. 

Michael let her talk and flirt and took the time to look around again, hoping to find something to be complimentary about so Isobel wouldn’t feel she had to prove how great it all was to him.  It was his own fault then, when he accidentally saw Alex across the room, leaning against a wall, deep in conversation with someone that looked suspiciously like Kyle.  Michael’s stomach did a flip and he turned quickly away, back to Isobel and the bar, half hoping Alex hadn’t seen him.  Michael knew that Alex was single again, or at least that was the last he’d heard, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be caught staring outright. 

“Here,” Isobel thrust a drink into his hand that had a little light-up rainbow color-changing cube masquerading as an ice cube at the bottom of it.  Michael rolled his eyes.  “So what are you feeling?  Wanna dance?  Or I think they’re painting pride flags on people’s faces?”  She sounded giddy, her cheeks flushed and her hair already covered in a ridiculous amount of glitter.  

Michael didn’t have the heart to let her down by telling her he’d rather eat sand than dance or get his face painted without at least a few drinks in his system.  “Whatever you want.” 

Isobel beamed at him.  “See, I knew this would be fun.” 

“Yep,” Michael said, plastering a smile on his fast as she led him over to the person doing the face paint, “cause I’m the fun one.”

By the time he was sitting on a bar stool with someone striping color across his face, Michael was on his second drink, and Isobel's face was already a melty palette of pink, blue, and purple. 

“Isn’t this great?” Isobel said, standing over him and dancing to some unbearable pop song, shaking glitter out of her own hair all over Michael’s head and shoulders.  He could feel it falling onto him like tiny raindrops, securing itself to his shirt and hair and skin with some invisible, terrible glitter power.  He wondered idly how many showers it was going to take until he could walk around without constantly catching the glint of it out of the corner of his eye.  

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, standing up as the face painter proclaimed he was done.  His cheek felt strange, stiff and cold, and he couldn’t get the last of the alcohol out of his glass around the giant fake ice cube.    

“Hey, we have to take a picture,” Isobel said, grinning wider and pulling out her phone while she dragged their faces close enough together to fit into the selfie frame.  She pulled back to look at the picture, nodding with happy satisfaction.  “We are hot,” she proclaimed, “and proud.  Two badass bisexuals.” 

Michael nodded distractedly.  He needed another drink, or maybe just some fresh air, or for the DJ to turn down the goddamned bass, or something.  He hated the feeling of the face paint, and he hated the selfie, he hated how unlike himself he looked, glittery and colorful and trying to smile in a crowd.  Michael stumbled backwards, turning around to face the bar in what he hoped was a mostly intentional-looking maneuver.  He needed another drink.  

The bartender nodded at him and Isobel, bringing over two more glasses of whatever they were drinking.  “Lookin’ good,” she said, and Michael’s chest felt tight. 

It was too loud, and too warm, and Isobel was talking but he couldn’t make out what she was saying.  He drank almost frantically, trying to get enough alcohol into his system that he stopped caring about any of this shit.  Michael glanced around the bar, at all of the people laughing and smiling and looking like they fit in perfectly, and Michael had never felt more like an alien.   He needed to get out, just for a moment, just to catch his breath.  

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna find the bathroom,” he said, coherently enough, and pushed past Isobel towards the back hallway.   

The bathroom was thankfully empty, and quiet as the door swung shut behind him, the music that was so pervasive in the bar just a tinny echo.  Michael braced himself on one of the sinks, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the scratched mirror.  It was just all so much, and it should have been easy, and the fact that it wasn’t was creating a cacophony of different feelings in his mind, all of it blending together into something like panic.  Michael opened his eyes, willing himself to stay in control.  

He looked at himself in the mirror, and he hated the frantic look in his eyes, hated the smear of color across his cheek like a brand, hated that he could be so comfortable with himself and yet so shaken.  He could feel the urge to push it all away, violently, to shove and shake and break—the only way he had now to make the noise in his head stop.  Michael gripped the sink and thought about tearing the room apart.  He could see it, sinks and toilets tearing out of the wall, tiles slamming against one another into dust, the mirrors cracking and shattering.  The vision of destruction filled his mind, and he was in the middle of it, silent in the eye of the storm, caught in the tornado of his own making—

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Alex stepped through it, looking concerned.  “Are you okay?” 

The vision dropped away from Michael’s eyes, leaving him with only himself, standing in a public bathroom feeling terrified and self-destructive.  He watched in the mirror as Alex twisted the lock on the door and took another cautious step forward. 

“Are you okay?” Alex repeated. “Because you looked not okay.”

“I’m fine,” Michael said, even though his voice sounded thin and shaken.  Alex stepped towards him again and Michael pressed himself forward, closer to the sink, like he could climb into the mirror and avoid this interaction.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Alex, because he did, badly, but he didn’t want Alex to see him in a moment where he felt weak.  “You didn’t have to follow me.”

Alex shrugged, the cracks in the mirror keeping Michael from seeing the nuances of his expression.  “I wanted to see if you were okay.” 

It was meant kindly, but somehow it made Michael feel worse.  Michael stopped watching Alex and focused on his own face, frowning when he saw the painted colors again, loosening his grip on the sink to press uneasily on the skin of his cheek.  He swallowed and dropped his hand quickly, lowering his eyes to the stained white porcelain of the sink.  “I think this paint might be toxic,” he said wryly.  He could tell from Alex’s silence that he saw through the remark. 

“It looks good,” Alex said quietly.  “You look good.”

Michael looked up sharply at Alex’s reflection again.  Alex had his own face painted, a rainbow of stripes adorning his cheek.  “You do, too,” Michael said, meaning it.  Alex did look good—happy and proud and like he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder.  It made Michael feel boundlessly happy and endlessly sad, knowing that they’d spent their time together hiding, that they could both be here on this stupid pride night—with Alex looking secure and hot and comfortable—and yet not be together.  Usually Michael would fight or fuck those maudlin feelings away, but that wasn’t really an option tonight.  He sighed.  “But I just don’t…maybe this isn’t my scene.”

Alex was close enough to put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, and he did so cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if Michael would let him.  Michael hoped that someday Alex would be able to touch him without worrying.  He let Alex turn him away from the mirror.  

“Maybe,” Alex said, carefully.  “Or maybe you grew up with assholes telling you this part of you was wrong, that it should be shuttered if you can’t destroy it.” 

Michael’s instinct was to argue that he was fine, and none of his shitty foster parents had gotten to him like that, but he wasn’t sure it was entirely true, and he wasn’t sure that Alex wasn’t saying it for his own benefit as much as for Michael’s.  Alex’s hand was still resting on Michael’s shoulder, and it felt grounding; Michael felt stable under Alex’s hand, under Alex’s unwavering gaze.  He took a deep breath, and as he let it out, Alex seemed to visibly relax, too.  

“You can wash it off, if you want,” Alex said, “and it wouldn’t mean anything.”

Michael shook his head slowly.  “Isobel—” he started.

“We didn’t get the same ‘strong woman, love yourself’ stuff that Isobel did,” Alex interrupted, reaching around Michael to snag a paper towel from the wall dispenser.  “It’s okay.” 

“Isobel would be disappointed,” Michael said numbly, his chest tight with unspoken gratitude, but he didn’t take the paper towel.  Then more quietly:  “Everyone’s always disappointed.”

Alex looked at Michael for a moment, and then shrugged and smiled, like he didn’t know what Michael was talking about, like he wasn’t one of the people Michael kept disappointing.  “This whole thing is supposed to be about celebrating yourself the way you want to, so fuck ‘em.”

Michael smiled back weakly, his hand tracing lightly over the stiff lines of the face paint on his cheek.  He so badly wanted to want to leave it there. 

“It looks better on you,” Michael said, impulsively, reaching out as if to touch Alex’s cheek, and then drawing his hand back at the last moment.  He held his breath as Alex met his eyes and stepped carefully forward, bringing his cheek to Michael’s hand, leaning into his touch far too easily.  “You’ve always looked good with stuff like this.”  He was thinking of Alex as a teenager, with liner painted across his eyelids, and it made Michael ache with nostalgia.  He wanted this—he wanted to be able to tell Alex how the only good memories from that summer were of Alex, to be able to say all the stupid, romantic things he had never gotten the chance to say, to be able to dance with Alex at pride night and have neither of them care who saw.  

“I wish I’d been able to be this with you,” Alex said, his voice raw and quiet.

Michael let out a breath that was almost a laugh, running his fingertips lightly across Alex’s rainbow cheek.  “You’re here now,” he said without thinking about it.  Now was enough.  Michael thought that if he leaned forward and kissed Alex, Alex might let him, that it would be okay if it only existed here, in this moment.  But they owed each other more than that—more than a secret kiss in a bathroom, more than rushing in without talking, without taking enough care that neither of them got hurt, this time.  God, but Michael wanted there to be a ‘this time.’

“So are you,” Alex said pointedly, licking his lips absently in a way that sent Michael’s entire internal equilibrium shifting, like his body was trying to tip him towards Alex.  

The door clattered as someone tried to get into the bathroom, and both of them laughed awkwardly, aware again of their surroundings.  It steadied Michael, kept him from crashing towards Alex the way he desperately wanted to.  Waiting would be smarter; dropping his hand, pulling away and swallowing everything he was feeling, putting on a smile and walking out of the bathroom would be smarter, but he hesitated.

Alex met Michael’s eyes and slowly lifted his own hand and pressed his fingers lightly to the paint on Michael’s cheek, almost exploratory, a gentle caress.  Michael felt his breath coming far too quickly, his earlier discomfort nearly forgotten under the soft way Alex was touching him.  

“You really do look good, Guerin.” Alex said quietly.  “And this place?  This bar?  It’s not my favorite either.  And it—it isn’t home, but it’s safe.  You know?” 

“Where’s home?” Michael asked, somewhat facetiously, his fingertips still barely brushing Alex’s cheek, leaning his cheek into Alex’s touch, unable to stop himself.  Michael knew both of them had been facing the same thing recently—the growing sense that all of the places that had felt comfortable or familiar didn’t feel that way any more, the fear of what it would take to find the places that would feel that way in the future.  

Alex met Michael’s eyes, meaningfully, like he was trying to get Michael to understand something without saying it.  “I think I’ve almost got that figured out,” Alex said finally, and Michael was hit by the realization that Alex wasn’t talking about the bars or the city or the buildings they lived in, but something entirely different.  He thought back to every time he’d ever heard Alex say the word home, with something like longing and questions laid into it, and wondered if maybe he’d been talking about them the whole time.    

Michael was trying to form a response that wouldn’t feel like a deflection, that would convince Alex to actually say what he was saying, when someone banged loudly on the door and Alex pulled away abruptly, leaving Michael’s fingers caressing only air.  Alex smiled apologetically and dropped his hand away from Michael’s cheek.  “You shouldn’t spend the whole night in the bathroom,” Alex said, starting to move towards the door.  “I’ll save you a dance.”

“Didn’t see you dancing before,” Michael said, to take focus from the fact that the image of Alex dancing, and happy, was enough to make every bit of him openly ache with wanting.    

“I wasn’t.”  Alex said, raising an eyebrow.  “But I will with you.”  

Michael exhaled heavily, his voice stolen by the casual way Alex said it, like they’d already decided.  Then again, what was there even to decide?  

Alex licked his lips, hesitating between Michael and the door, then abruptly turned back and crossed to where Michael was standing.  Alex pressed himself into Michael’s space, his hands cradling Michael’s cheeks as he brought their lips together in a quick but searing kiss.  Michael let out a sound halfway between surprise and a moan and kissed Alex back fiercely.  He’d barely gotten his bearings before Alex was pulling away.

Smiling with satisfaction, Alex unlocked the door and slipped through into the noise of the bar.  Michael side-stepped out of the way as someone rushed past him to one of the stalls, watching the door like Alex might come back. 

When he didn’t, Michael turned back to the mirror, staring at himself skeptically for a few minutes, trying to see himself the same way he saw Alex, like someone who was strong enough not to feel foolish, but proud.  He shook his head at his reflection—it was too much, too much to ask of himself at that moment, but he realized that he still didn’t want to leave the bar.  Not when Isobel wanted him there, not when Alex wanted him there.  

It was Alex’s voice, Alex’s smile, in Michael’s head as he decided not to wash the face paint off.   As he decided not to listen to the words in the back of his mind that he tried to pretend he’d forgotten, to brush off with bravado, the ones that came from the screaming foster parents who carried bibles and belts, the ones who told him he was nothing before he was old enough to know anything about himself.  Alex didn’t see Michael that way, any more than Michael saw Alex as any of the things his asshole father had thought of him.  Alex wanted to dance with Michael, wanted to kiss him, and that was reason enough to stop thinking about the colors on his face and leave the bathroom. 

This bar was never going to be Michael’s place, it was never going to be less annoyingly loud and glittery, and it was never going to serve drinks that didn’t make him roll his eyes.  But it could be the first place he’d let Isobel drag him to a pride event, it could be the first place he’d kissed Alex, that Alex had kissed him, since they’d tried to ignore how they would always feel.  It could be that, and that could be enough, even if he hated the damn face paint.

Taking a breath, Michael left the bathroom with his breathing almost back to normal.  He found Isobel quickly, dancing on the edge of a throng of people, and she brightened as soon as he appeared, beckoning him over.

“Thought you might have left,” she said close to his ear when he reached her, almost yelling to be heard above the music.    

“Almost did,” Michael replied distractedly.  He scanned the room, which had gotten significantly more crowded in the short time he’d been gone, until he found Alex, leaning against a wall, clearly watching Michael, too.  He tilted his head, gesturing Alex over, and saw him nod and push slowly away from the wall, 

“What did you say?”  Isobel yelled, and Michael flipped his attention back to her, grinning.  She looked happy, and tipsy, and like she actually wanted him there, and all at once Michael felt lighter. 

“I said fuck you,” he said stridently, louder and closer to her ear.  “Bisexuals-in-arms, right?”

Isobel’s answering smile was brilliant, and Michael realized he hadn’t made a mistake by coming here just for her, because she’d asked him, intentionally, to be there.  And there wasn’t anything wrong with staying for Alex, because neither of them would usually be caught dead in a place like this, and there was something about just showing up that mattered.  

Alex came up beside them, putting a hand gently on Michael’s elbow, just enough to let Michael know he was there.  It felt like a lot more than that, though.  

“Alex!”  Isobel was clearly at the drunk stage where she was friends with everyone.  “Look, we match!”  She gestured happily between her face and Michael’s, and Michael hated that it made him feel even a tiny bit better about the stupid face paint. 

Alex grinned.  “It’s great,” he said and Isobel beamed.  The song changed fluidly to something new, and Alex slid his hand down Michael’s arm until their fingers were clasped together.  Michael couldn’t think of a time he and Alex had held hands in public, not ever.  It felt nice.    

Isobel danced next to them with abandon and Michael let himself sway awkwardly with Alex, trying to actually loosen his grip on his control instead of just slipping into the comfortable persona of someone who didn’t care.  He did care.  He cared that Isobel wanted them to have this connection—something that she and Max didn’t have—even if her way of celebrating it wasn’t entirely in line with his ideal evening.  He cared that Alex wanted to dance with him, that he was holding Michael’s hand in public, even if it was under the guise of dancing, that he cared enough to follow him into the bathroom and knew him well enough to lock the door.    

Isobel paused her dancing to give Michael a very obvious and unsubtle thumbs-up, and Michael didn’t even resent it when Alex laughed.  Michael grinned up at her sparkling, painted face, his hand tightly knit with Alex’s, and let himself enjoy being part of something loudly, even if it was just for the night.  Maybe, Michael reflected, this was what Alex meant by home.  

[mrslittletall]

Whump prompt: Leaning against someone

Tiso and God Tamer

Title: Not Just Another Corpse Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: God Tamer, Tiso Word Count: 1.780 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30382413

Summary: God Tamer shouldn't check on the bug in the blue hood. He was just another corpse that they kicked out of the coliseum, but why was she feeling so strongly about him?

(Author's note: I adore this two as pairing, but I am not too sure if I wrote this very shippy. Feel free to read it as either friendship or pairing, but I think I see it more as friendship. Maybe a romance blooms between them, who knows?

Anway, please enjoy.)

She didn't even know why she headed down the cliff.

Day after day, different bugs would come into the coliseum. They would fight for geo, they would fight for glory, they would fight for fame, but almost all of them ended up as corpses on the cliffs, being kicked out to keep the arena nice and clean, to ensure that the mechanisms would work as intended.

Surely he also would be a corpse lying on the cliffs. She had seen how he had been collected, having been kicked out. If not her glaive had killed him, so would have the fall.

Still, she headed down, searching for the telltale blue sign of the hood he had been wearing. She just needed to know. It had been so long since someone had managed to challenge her. She, called the God Tamer, was the current master of the trial of fools and it could have very well been here that she had gotten kicked out to rot on the cliffs.

She still didn't really know why she was searching for him. What had his name been? Tiso or something? He surely had boasted in front of her, before the combined power of her glaive and her beast had put him into his place.

Still, there had been something else about him. A feeling that she couldn't really align somewhere. There had been something in his eyes, that just didn't leave her mind.

She surely would feel better if she saw his corpse and could forget about him once and for all.

As she was still heading down, searching, more bodies fell. Another fool had started the challenge, not hers obviously, hers would never start without her present. The impact of the bodies left and right, stirring up the ashes made it hard to see, so that she hinged down the visor of her helmet, suppressing a cough as the ash threatened to fill her lungs.

She moved a little further away from the centre, more to the left and as she was about to drop down to the next foothold, she saw it. The telltale blue hood.

She dropped down as fast as she could, hoping that she would find peace upon finally being able to see the corpse and then return to her duties in the coliseum. She just... she needed to be sure, that was all. She opened up the visor of her helmet a tiny bit to get a better look at him, when she saw and heard it. A tiny stir and a low groan.

Her first instinct was a slight shock, then she felt utterly relieved. She hadn't killed him. Why was she even so happy about it? She should be ashamed, she must have lost her edge when she hadn't finished the job.

Still, that he was still alive calmed her somehow, but he wouldn't stay alive much longer when nobody took care of his wounds.

She kneeled down and spoke: “Hey. Can you hear me?”

There was only another groan as response.

“You don't look like you are able to walk.”, she said and then moved to help him up, carefully avoiding the stained part on his front, where his shell had cracked and milky white blood was seeping out. “Come, lean on me.”, she commanded, feeling the weight of him as she hefted him up. There wasn't a bench nearby and the coliseum was too far up, she would need to get him into one of the alcoves, where the primal aspids wouldn't lurk. The one where the tail of that giant, Bardook resided, felt like the best bet.

As she started walking, Tiso's shaky feet stumbling along with her steady steps, he managed to find his words.

“Why?”, was the only word he spoke.

“I don't know.”, God Tamer replied, truthfully. She knew that he asked her why she saved him, after she had nearly killed him. Not why he had lost to her or why he had been tossed out to the cliffs. He had known about the risk. “We can talk later, after your wounds are patched up.”, she continued and led Tiso to the alcove, grateful that someone or something had dispatched of the primal aspids recently. They would be back soon, but for now, her path was without hindrance.

Once they had arrived at the intended location, God Tamer laid Tiso down, letting him lean against a wall, getting a first aid kit out of her armour. As the champion of the coliseum, she always had to be prepared. She made quick work, cleaning the crack on his shell, which made him hiss in pain, and then bandaging the whole deal with some silk that the gladiators coming from Deepnest provided.

Then, she just stayed kneeling in front of him, not knowing what to say or to do. Technically she should just leave. There was nothing for her to do anymore. Tiso would be able to challenge the coliseum again once he healed up, if he dared. She was halfway on her feet when he repeated his earlier question.

“Why?”

“I... I don't...”, God Tamer sighed, a deep sigh. She knew the reason. She knew it very well. “You impressed me.”, she admitted. “It has been so long since someone managed to get far enough to fight me. I... when you fell, I felt... disappointed at first... and then.. guilty.”

For some reason, God Tamer had felt guilty about not having fought him head on, even though it wasn't a noble duel between them, but a dirty fight in a lawless zone. She had the feeling he would have deserved that duel though.

“I came to make sure that you had died.”, she admitted further. “Only to see that you haven't. I couldn't.... let you lie there like this...”

“I see.”, Tiso said, no humour in his voice, “Don't expect any thanks, you brought me into this state to begin with.”

“I... I am aware, yes.”, God Tamer hated how much her voice wavered. She wasn't used to such conversations anymore. Most of the population was infected and the gladiators didn't talk much. She mostly had her beast to talk too and while she still could control it, the infection long had clouded its mind as well and so it would never answer to her.

An awkward silence spread between them, only broken by Tiso's raspy breaths.

“May I ask you something?”, God Tamer suddenly said, wanting to break the silence between them.

“You probably will even if I say no.”, Tiso just said. God Tamer didn't waste time to be offended, he was right.

“Why did you fight in the coliseum?”

“What kind of question is that?”, Tiso replied, coughing a little, averting his eyes to not look into her face. “It should be obvious.”

“Fame, glory, most of the fools come for it.”, God Tamer said. “You must have seen them on your way here. The corpses we kicked out. The ones who didn't make it.”

“Yes, because it is so hard to overlook corpses falling from the sky.”, Tiso retorted, rolling his eyes, “Or the ceiling. This place doesn't even have a sky.”

He apparently was better already when he was in the mood to react with such dripping sarcasm. “Anyway...”, God Tamer crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You can tell me hundred times you came for fame and glory, I know it wasn't your only reason. I could see it in your eyes.”

It was Tiso's turn to sigh now. “So you figured, huh?”, he said and then raised an arm, the arm in which he was still clutching his weapon, a shield. It was rare for any bug to use a shield as a weapon, most of them preferred nails and the ones without would use their claws or toxins. She had seen him use it like a boomerang. Though, what did the shield had to do with his reasoning?

“It's about your weapon?”, she asked.

Tiso let out another sigh, this time sounding more frustrated than before. “Not the weapon itself, but what it is made off.”

God Tamer narrowed her eyes and then took a closer look at the shield. It looked nothing out of the ordinary at first, but when she noticed, a gasp escaped her. That weapon clearly had been made out of the shell of another bug.

“So, you figured.”, Tiso said dryly.

“Who were they?”, God Tamer asked in return, there clearly was a story behind the shield.

“My friend...”, Tiso said after a long pause, so long that God Tamer already thought that he would never talk. “We were both in the search of a challenge, to fight at a place that was tough enough for us, so that we could challenge each other in the end. He... he died while protecting me before we even reached Hallownest. I had promised to him that I would be victorious in the coliseum.”

God Tamer didn't had any words to say after Tiso was finished with his story. What should she say? Words of comfort? They would feel empty and hollow, especially after she had been the one to crush his imminent victory. Instead of saying anything, she leaned herself against the wall as well and then slowly slid down until she sat next to him.

Minutes must have passed before she found her words again.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?”, Tiso asked.

“For treating you just like another corpse.”

“Hey...”, Tiso started, “You have come looking for this corpse, right?”

That made God Tamer smile. “I guess.”, she said.

They fell silent again, but this time the silence wasn't awkward, but kind of comfortable. Eventually, God Tamer got up.

“I should head back to the coliseum.”, she said. “You are safe here for the time being. You shouldn't move too much until the wound had closed. And once it has, I am awaiting you in the coliseum.”

“No thanks.”, Tiso replied. “I think I am done with the coliseum for now.”

They both just stared at each other and then chuckled, Tiso's being broken up by coughs.

“I fear I am not done with you though.”, God Tamer said. “I will come back to check on you and I better not see you move elsewhere.” She turned around and without looking back, she said: “See you later.”, before heading back to the coliseum.

She still didn't know why she had checked on him, but she didn't regret that she did.

[aforrestofstuff]

Just wondering, what's OPM characters' favorite season or the kind of weather they enjoy the most? And why?

Thanks for your ask, anon! It’s been a hot minute since I did one of these. :] ❤️

Tornado of Terror: Stormy days or nights of any kind because she’s a bit of a workaholic and the rampant downpour gives her a good reason to stay inside and relax for once. She’s mildly scared of thunder so she likes to drown out the noise by blasting romcoms on her TV.

Silverfang: Hot, humid days because it eases his arthritis pain and the humidity makes for good character-building when training his disciples! Ain’t nothing like running laps on a hot day after rainfall; it’s guaranteed to make anyone wish they were dead.

Atomic Samurai: Windy days because, and he would never admit this, but the wind makes his hair look marvelous. He’ll only ever wear his hair down in public when there’s a breeze outside. Nobody has noticed he does this, everyone just thinks he picks random days to do it.

Child Emperor: Literally wtf is the outside world. I hc that he has some sort of white noise machine to emulate rainfall and other sounds of nature, because he’s always cooped up in the lab and if he didn’t hear a frog croak or a breeze rustle through the trees every once and a while, he would go absolutely insane. His favorite setting is a hot summer day by the beach, where he listens to the waves lap against the shore.

Metal Knight: same as Child Emperor except he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about going insane or not, so minus the sound machine. His favorite weather is probably violent storms because it’s the perfect brooding atmosphere and it makes him feel like a tacky-ass supervillain.

King: He’s not really an outdoorsy person so he doesn’t care too much about the weather, but he does like it overcast. Mainly because he doesn’t have to put so much effort into blocking out the sunlight so he can play videogames without that annoying glare on his TV screen.

Zombieman: I’ve said this in a previous hc, but his pale/blue-ish skin indicates that his blood flow is absolute ass, which means he’s got to get cold easily. He’s got to be cold all the time. Which I why I propose that his favorite weather is when it’s unbearably hot for the average person (around room temperature for him). He doesn’t even sweat under the heat, only when he exercises. So, while everyone seeks solace in indoor air conditioning and ice packets in 100-degree weather, he’ll be outside in a sweater saying “Hm, it’s a little chilly. Good for a jog.”

Drive Knight: Cold. Unbearably cold. The reason being that he has a lot of firepower, right? And I doubt he’s got a ton of wiggle room for any cooling mechanisms (it’s not like Drive Knight [Señor Robocop] is out here carrying a giant canister of water), so he mostly relies on the temperature of the air around him to cool down. When it’s super cold, he doesn’t have to worry about overheating. It’s not like he can really feel the temperature anyway, it’s strictly for practical purposes.

Pig God: Cold. Super duper cold the way Drive Knight likes it because my boy Pig God is perpetually on the brink of heat stroke 24/7. The reason: he is morbidly obese. Fat acts as insulation to keep heat inside our bodies, and he’s got so much of it that his body is always working overtime to make sure he doesn’t fucking die. So, on cold days, he likes to rest and give his body a break. Below zero like room temperature for him, because room temperature for the average person makes him feel as if he’s standing on the sun.

Superalloy Darkshine: Bright and sunny, baby! Perfect weather, not a single cloud in the sky and not a one raindrop. He’s super outdoorsy. He practically lives outside. His favorite activity is, of course, exercising, and he much prefers when the weather is nice so he can better focus on getting those gains.

Watchdog Man: He prefers the weather to be nice and warm with absolutely 0 wind and 0 rain. His suit soaks up liquid like a goddamned sponge and gets a hell of a lot heavier, so he absolutely HATES the rain for that reason. Wind messes up his “fur” and he ends up looking like a cumulonimbus cloud after a long day of patrol, so that’s out of the question as well.

Flashy Flash: Hail. His training regime is brutal and he prefers to do it whenever it hails, because he believes being battered by falling ice makes him grow stronger. A large portion of the scars on his body were caused by the golf ball-sized pebbles of hail that fell on one particular storm.

Genos: Bitter cold, same as Drive Knight and with a similar reason as well. I imagine Kuseno had mercy when programming how Genos’ cybernetic body would react to things like temperature and pain, so he doesn’t really mind the weather no matter it’s highs or lows. He likes the cold because, like I said previously with Señor Robocop, it aides his weaponry when cooling down and he doesn’t need to waste time worrying if he’s gonna overheat or not because he has faith that air around him will take care of it.

Metal Bat: Snow days! He and Zenko used to love to play together in the snow as kids and they still fucking do it every year because time is an illusion and fun is eternal. His favorite thing to do is build very gruesome and horrific snowmen. Like, snowmen without heads, snowmen that look like they’ve been run over, snowmen that have purposefully been built to look like they’re melting and they’re in pain. That sort of stuff. He and Zenko also have snowball fights (because of COURSE) and Badd has to try his best to not hurl the ball too hard and accidentally give her a concussion.

Tanktop Master: Same as Superalloy. He prefers the weather to be picturesque perfect. I hardcore hc that they’re workout buds and that they often go on outdoor rendezvous together, whatever that may be. His favorite thing to do (besides hanging out with the homies, obviously) is to go on long hikes. He’s actually a pretty big nature lover and WILL shed manly tears if he ever sees a deer. God forbid a baby one.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Well, he doesn’t get as much outdoor time as he would like on account of being in literal prison and whatnot but he REALLY loves a very specific time of year just at the beginning of summer when all the bugs come out and the air is breezy but still warm. His loves to look at those bigass yellow butterflies and have picnics on the green tallgrass just before it’s been dried out by the summer heat. Oh yeah, and he’ll totally be doing this with his boyfriend. That’s the dream, baby.

Amai Mask: Clear nights just after rainfall. He loves the way streetlights reflect on the wet asphalt. This is also the weather he prefers to hold concerts in because the air is humid and cool and he doesn’t get as sweaty when he’s dancing or singing. The petrichor is nice too. If someone managed to bottle and sell it as perfume, he would be the first buyer.

Iaian: Overcast. When the sun is blocked out, he doesn’t have to worry too much about getting a heat stroke while wearing his armor during training. He also appreciates how dim it is. It’s easy for him to get lost in thought and he often finds himself standing still just to look up to at the clouds. He and Kama sometimes find shapes in them for fun between training sessions.

Okamaitachi: They really love quiet rainstorms. No thunder, no lightning, just the steady pattern of rainfall. This is the perfect time for them to relax, curl up with a good book, maybe knit a sweater, and just forget about everything that’s going on. They usually use this time to update their self care regime, like doing their hair or tidying up their nails. Overall, just a great time to chill out and keep up to date with loving themselves.

Bushidrill: He loves violent rainstorms. I hc that he’s had a pretty tumultuous life, so the havoc of loud thunder doesn’t faze him at all. He actually finds it quite nice. He’s the type of old guy that keeps a door open during rainfall just to let the smell in, or walk outside with no umbrella just for the fuck of it. He’s not terribly old, but he’s old enough to not give a rat’s ass about what other people (especially Kama or Iaian) think about his weird habits. He also likes all the nature that comes out after rainfall, too. Frogs and dragonflies are some of his favorite animals.

Fubuki: Barking hot. Unbearable. Like her sister, she’s a bit of a workaholic and finds it difficult to take a day off every once and while; but once that temperature hits the nineties? Oh shit. Fubuki Gang, pack your shit because it’s beach time baby. She absolutely LOVES the beach and actively anticipates the time of year when it becomes hot enough to bask in the sun. Going to the beach with her family was one of the few enjoyable things that came from her childhood, and she still finds comfort in it.

Saitama: He doesn’t really give too much of a shit about the weather as long as no roads are closed. The reason for this is: if there’s a sale, he wants to get there ASAFP. But, like I said, he really doesn’t give a shit either way because he can be both an outdoorsy and indoors kind of person without making any major changes to his life.

Mumen Rider: Sunny and clear! He loves to have picnics and watch the fluffy clouds! It’s also the perfect weather to go on long, recreational bike rides, which he almost never gets to do anymore. He’s also a bit of a nature lover and, like Tanktop Master, WILL cry if he sees a cute animal. Rainy and overcast days make him a little sad because he doesn’t like the gloomy feel, even if it is calming at times.

Sonic: Hail. Same as Flashy Flash, since they basically grew up on the same bullshit training regime together. The Ninja Village and everything connected to it is overall a total shitstorm, but he can’t argue with the results that made him a killer speed demon. So yeah, the breakneck training persists. And he does it while enduring the incessant pummeling of some fucking ice cubes falling from the sky. Like a weirdo.

Garou: Anything extreme. From blizzards to sandstorms, he’ll take it all, baby. Bang used to train him when the weather was especially bad to strengthen his spirit, and now that same violent weather has become sort of a comfort place. He things violent thunderstorms are calming and blizzards are like a warm blanket that take him back to the few rays of sunshine that came from his absolute clusterfuck of a childhood. He also likes to train during this sort of weather for the same reason Sonic and Flashy Flash like to train during hail: he believes it makes him stronger.

[cheerfulmelancholies]

Medical Mechanical Ch. 9

Diana couldn't sleep. All night, thoughts of horrific scenarios and questions about her father circled her mind, relentless and troubling her to no end. She kept thinking of this one article, buried so deep in the web that one would really have to dig to find it, and how it stated MM's need for new hires stemmed from their desire to turn small towns like Lakewood into human experiment factories. It was backed by zero facts, sounded sketchier than an ad for a miracle de-aging cream and was posted by some anonymous account that could've easily been a bot. It was probably nothing more than fear-mongering lies but it just hit home too hard.

Her dad may have snapped out of it quickly this time, but what if it happened again? What if MM damaged his brain and she could never get him back to normal? She didn't want to lose her father to those freaks. She and Ethan needed info, and they needed it fast. The second it became a reasonable time to do so, she was going to text him and schedule another meet up. Questioning the locals proved to be a fruitless endeavor and searching the web for facts was impossible. They needed info straight from the source.

The idea hit her and she jolted into full awareness. Her father. He had a life before MM, before her and even before Keana. She would never get anything about the company from him but that didn't mean he'd be against talking about his childhood. Perhaps there was a perfectly good reason why he wanted to work for them all of a sudden. Some deep-rooted childhood trauma, or something they had on him. If she could just figure out why, then the pieces would start pulling themselves together.

Tomorrow then. She'd meet with Ethan, they'd try and research on their own, and when her father came back from work, if he wasn't completely out of his mind again, she would ask him about his younger years. She'd have plenty of time to work out what to say and how to say it and, if it came down to it, she'd guilt him into spending time with her.

Crisis averted, she settled down beneath the covers and finally drifted off.

Diana awoke with a stretch, yawned and looked over at her bedside clock. It was just shy of ten. She wondered if her dad had gone off to work yet or if he might get today off. He used to always get Sundays off. She hated how she couldn't recall when that had changed.

Getting out of bed, she went about her morning routine before she checked up on her father. The bedroom door was closed, a sure sign he was still in there. She cracked the door when he didn't respond to her knocking.

"Dad? You awake?"

He shifted and lifted his head. "Huh? You alright, pumpkin?" He forced himself to turn over so he could look at her, eyes struggling to focus.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to check on you after last night. How do you feel?" The light from the curtained windows was just enough that she could make out his features. He looked weary and exhausted, but he seemed to be more coherent than yesterday. He probably just didn't sleep well.

Daniel yawned and rubbed his eyes, tired and unfocused from a miserable night staring at the walls and ceiling. "I feel alright," he said, falling back onto the pillows. "I'm just really tired."

"Do you have work today?" It was odd for him not to be up. She was so used to waking up in an empty house that his lingering presence made her uncomfortable. It seemed wrong for him to still be here, somehow.

He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes. No one had given him the day off and after yesterday there was no way he'd call in sick. He'd already messed up by sleeping in. He threw the covers aside.

"Dad?"

"Sorry, honey, but I have to get going. Thanks for waking me up." He trudged to the dresser and grabbed fresh undergarments before getting a clean suit from the closet.

Diana watched him shamble towards her. "Wait, you actually have work today?" She regretted checking on him at all. The man looked like he might collapse within the hour. "You should call in sick or something. There's no way you can work like this."

He waved her off as he stepped by to get to the bathroom. "I'm fine, pumpkin, really."

"That's what you said yesterday and look at what happened." She wished she'd have left him alone to sleep. She didn't want MM to see him like this.

"I was just... tired yesterday," he said, rubbing his forehead. Still a headache, but not the thought piercing migraine it was last night. "Besides, I can't just not show up."

"I can call, if you want. I'll tell them you, uh, fell or something. Or that you have food poisoning."

"Diana, I know you mean well but I have to go. Like it or not, it's my job." He took deliberate steps down the stairs, trying not to drop his clothes in the process.

Diana watched him struggle to keep his balance. He was obviously exhausted. Why was he so determined to push through it and go to work? She wondered what they could've offered him to make him do this. It was maddening.

As the Eldorado rumbled down the driveway, Diana called Ethan.

"Morning," he said, having answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, how's it going? How's your mom?" She was going to cut right to the chase but felt it would be rude to focus on herself first.

"It's ok. She's doing a little better. Still a bit out of it, but better. How's your father?"

She bit her lip. "I... may have messed up."

"Did something else happen?"

"No, no. He was sleeping and I went in to check on him. He's doing better but I wish I hadn't woken him up. I asked him if he had to work and he forced himself out of bed to head in. I couldn't get him to call off no matter what."

"He's... He's definitely devoted," Ethan answered, cracking the knuckles on his free hand. "Is he still messed up from last night?"

"No, he's fine. I don't think he slept well and he definitely still has a headache, but he's acting normal. I didn't want him to go in because I'm worried he'll fall over from exhaustion. I don't like the thought of them seeing what's happening to him either." She turned to the empty kitchen. He wouldn't even eat breakfast.

Ethan hummed as he thought of what to say. Finally, "Whatever they've done has turned him into a puppet."

"That's just it," she said, walking into the living room to fall onto the couch. "They aren't forcing him to work there. He WANTED to, apparently. My mom told me."

"Why would he wanna do that?"

"I don't know, and neither does she. He wasn't always like this. He used to hate Medical Mechanical, then he just did a one-eighty. And he's not even trained to work in the medical industry, that's what gets me. My mom thinks they offered him something to get him on board for research."

"Offered him what? Money? Fame? Drugs? There'd have to be one hell of a payout to get someone to be as devoted as your dad. Even my mom only works there for the check and health insurance. And what kind of research would he be doing there?"

Diana sighed. "I'm not sure. I don't know what they could've said to him either but I think it's something personal. I was thinking that if we could figure out why my dad suddenly decided to work there, then we could finally start getting some real answers."

"So, what? You're gonna ask him about his childhood or something?" He couldn't see how that would help, but she sounded like she wasn't going to budge.

"Yeah, I'll ask him if he's not off his rocker again. But I also thought that we could maybe try researching ourselves. Stuff like that is public record, right? I know MM is a medical giant but they can't just erase people. There has to be something that would point to why they were interested in him in the first place."

He hummed. As ludicrous as it sounded, they'd at least be getting some more reliable info. And maybe he could look up his mom too. "Ok, sounds good to me," he said after several moments.

"Cool. Meet me same place as yesterday? Give me, like, twenty minutes."

"Got it. See you in a bit."

"Bye." She hung up and rushed to get dressed, eating a quick bowl of cereal before getting her bike from the garage. As she walked past the empty space where her dad's car was parked, she couldn't stop herself from thinking back to when he was standing there, confused and incoherent. She forced down the worry and hoped that he would be alright.

[graveyard-tales]

Road Trip AU

Korra and Bolin are in charge of the snacks. The only reason there are some homemade snacks as well as some healthier options is because Opal had tagged along. 

They have gps but it’s on mute because they kept mocking the tone of the voice. They all agree it sounds so damn condescending. They often forget about it, to the point where they almost stop using it completely. 

Bolin laid claim to the music. It’s not too bad, he has a little something for everyone, but it’s mostly all upbeat tunes. Sometimes something punk/rock/alternative comes on and they all try to guess if it’s Mako’s influence. He never confirmed and Bolin never says that some of it’s in there just for Opal. 

They all sing! Bolin is the loudest of course. Mako is the quietest. He and Opal are the most shy about it but she’s more open to singing louder thanks to Bolin’s praises and Korra’s encouragement. 

Most of the expenses are paid for by Asami and Opal. Korra and Bolin don’t really care, they pitch in a bit. Mako kind of hates it, though he doesn’t say anything. He pays for as much as his and Bolin’s share as he can. 

Mako and Asami do most of the driving. 

Asami can be a little fast but is the best driver of the lot. She grew up building and fixing cars, she learned to drive before she could even get her permit. Of course she is the best. 

Mako follows every rule there is, the car doesn’t move until everyone is buckled. But if there is a long stretch of road and no one is around?? Who's to say if the car is moving faster than it should. No matter who is in the passenger seat, he will do that thing where he puts his arm out to stop them if he has to break suddenly. 

Korra is the worst! She’s full on turning in her seat to look in the back seat. Mako’s yelling at her to keep her eyes on the road, Bolin clutching his seatbelt and Opal, Asami who saw this coming, already has her hand on the wheel. If no one is on the road with her she sways the car to the music. Korra doesn’t drive often and she likes it that way. 

Bolin isn’t as bad but he’s not great either. He has the music going, he’s in the middle of a conversation. One hand is on the wheel, the other is in a bag of snacks. He’s paying just enough attention not to hit the car in front of him. Good thing Opal and Mako are ever vigilant of where he has to turn. 

Opal is more of a cautious driver. Checks the mirrors, makes sure everyone is buckled, keeps the volume of the music down. No one would suspect she’s the most prone to road rage. If the horn is being used it’s most likely Opal cursing out the moron who recklessly cut in front of her.

Mako and Korra are banned from riding in front with each other within hours of their trip. “Korra you just made the wrong turn. It’s gonna take thirty minutes, if not a whole hours to get back to the main road.” “Jeez will you relax, consider this a detour into a nice town.” “This town has “last place a group of friends was seen in” written all over it.” “Judgmental much? Where is your sense of adventure!”

They only attempt to drive through the night once. Asami takes her turn, Mako takes his turn, Bolin takes his turn and they spend an hour the next morning trying to figure out where they are and how to get back to the main road. 

They only attempt to sleep in the car once. One of the boys was hit in the groin. There was a rancid fart that was obviously a crime against nature. Opal kept blinding people with her pen light she used to read with. Asami kept checking her phone. Bolin kept shifting. Korra tried to get them all to tell ghost stories, Bolin protested greatly. After Mako and Bolin (whom can sleep practically anywhere, even all cramped up) were the only ones to get any real sleep, they all agreed they’d splurge for a hotel room. 

Bolin, Opal, Asami and Korra all quietly agreed that they’ll all just squeeze into one room because they didn’t want to make it awkward for Mako. Mako meanwhile is like “this is so much more cost effective.” They generally get those rooms with the two beds and the pullout couch if they can . If they can’t it’s usually Korra, Asami and Opal squished in one bed and the boys in the other. On occasion Korra claims a bed at the Fire Ferret Fortress and crashes with the boys after she makes a blanket fort out of it. Mako has on occasion bunked with Asami and Opal when Bolin and Korra get too rambunctious. 

Bolin “Giant ball of yarn!!!!” Mako “We’re not stopping” Bolin, Korra, Opal, Asami chanting “giant yarn ball” until he finally gives in. They’re bored almost immediately only now Mako is keeping them there. If they wanted to see it so badily then he sure as hell going to learn why the stupid thing was even there in the first place. 

Bolin gets carsick the most, mostly on winding mountain roads. Asami is close behind, neither of them are used to mountain roads. Mako gets carsick once and no one even knew until the last minute because he was quietly staring out the window until he told them to stop the car and had the door open before it was fully pulled over.

They pull into a rest stop and Korra is leaping out and running to the bathroom. Mako nearly pushes Opal and Asami into the bathroom with her because they need to use the buddy system! Who knows what creeps are lurking about, Korra we talked about this! 

Of course It’s Mako who looks away for one second to find Bolin gone. It takes just a panicked second to find him (he’s in his 20’s now Mako, chill). Bolin is talking to a stranger who is standing too close for Mako’s comfort. 

Something goes wrong with the car at some point resulting in having to fix it up on the side of the road. Korra wanted to stand outside with Asami but they all agreed they didn’t want to risk the attention two young women could draw so Mako stood out with his best scowl fixed. Mako also knows more about cars than the other three, most of his knowledge is learned from Asami. (Though most of his mechanical knowledge is for his bike.) Someone still pulls over and asks if they needed help. Mako’s the one that tells him no and puts himself between the man and the car/Asami. Bolin is the only one who thinks he seemed nice when they all are back on the road. The girls blame Mako and that’s valid.

C A M P I N G

Korra finally gets her ghost story time. They all learn that Bolin has good reason to hate this because despite Mako’s generally shit story telling skills, he’s great with ghost stories. And just scaring the shit out of his little brother. He leaves to get something from the car only to appear on the other side at the climax of Opal’s story. He’s pelted with marshmallows for it.

Asami swears she hears something that night. Bolin’s too wired from the ghost stories. Their whispers wake up Opal, which ends up waking Korra. They all get hyper alert. Mako’s dead to the world. They all huddle close to each other, putting Mako between them so he doesn't die separated from their cuddle pile.

They almost crash twice. 

The first time Bolin and Korra were fucking around in the back seat. Opal got elbowed in the boob and Mako got kicked in the head. Mako was the one driving. Asami was the one that had scolded them this time around. Bolin and Korra kissed the back of Mako’s head and apologized. They did not kiss Opal’s boob.

The second time Bolin was driving and a drunk almost hit them causing Bolin to swerve to the roadside. The drunk had enough sense and conscience to pull over and check on them. Korra and Opal nearly launch themselves out of the car at him. Asami’s trying to comfort Bolin and prevent him from hyperventilating. Mako’s just as livid because they could have been hurt and Bolin’s terrified. But he reigns them in because he realizes they are quickly on the path of being the headline “group of young adults beat a drunk man on the side of the highway”.

If Korra is triggered or just has a bad night it’s really hard for her to stay in the car for long periods. So they take a lot of long breaks that day so she can walk out some of those nerves if she can. 

Both Mako and Korra get flare ups, mostly when the weather suddenly shifts.

When her legs are doing bad Korra can hardly walk but it hurts just as bad to keep her legs all scrunched up. So she’s either in the front where she can get the most leg room or she has them stretched across the very back seat or across the lap of whoever is next to her.

Mako’s is a little easier for him to ignore. He can more or less drive with one arm but if it gets too bad it makes it hard for him to concentrate on the road or follow the directions. He still keeps his sling tucked away to help keep it still, but he rarely ever uses it.

Both of them are too stubborn about it and usually don’t bring it up until it’s hurting too bad to ignore.

They drive through a safari park. 

Bolin did not heed the window warning and screamed when an ostrich head was suddenly through the window.  A truck of hay drove past them and a heard of bison walked up to the road.  They got stuck for nearly an hour when a particularly stubborn and lazy Emu parked itself in the middle of the road.  They got lucky with the tiger that was laid right near the fence but could barely see the cheetah across her enclosure.  They spend the rest of the day in the walk through portion. 

They bar crawl in a big city. Mako remains sober, he didn’t really get a choice but he doesn’t mind too much. Asami and Opal don’t get that drunk, Bolin and Korra get smashed. On the way to their hotel, Bolin and Korra try to have a competition on who can lift Mako. They both win much to his disdain and embarrassment. Asami is in her own little world giving Opal a piggy back as they sing to whatever was playing in the last bar. Mako realizes they should have at least done this back home instead of a city they hardly knew. They all agree the next day that it was really dumb.

Bolin and Korra are always trying to wingman Mako. If he so much looks at a girl they’re like “don’t work, I’ve got your back” and he has to desperately try and reel them back. Asami and Opal are much more subtle and successful about it. Mako never keeps any of the numbers. 

The only time Mako gets a number on his own is with a guy he didn’t realize was flirting with him until he was given the guy’s number. Cue quiet day for Mako as he reflects on shit he spent the whole time pushing down as a teenager. (Because Mako knows on some level he just spent so long pushing shit down that it’s second nature. And truth be told he had been thinking about it a lot more since Korra and Asami came out and started dating. Holy shit I’m bi??? He doesn’t mean to say it out loud. The girls are actually kind of surprised. Bolin really isn’t.) He doesn’t keep the number.

They absolutely hit up a beach and camp in the sand. Korra found and caught a crab but Bolin had instantly became attached to it. They end up letting it go. Opal and Bolin go hunting for seashells. Bolin adds many to ever growing collection of things. They nearly all get drunk around the bonfire they made.

Korra pokes and tries to get Mako to open up a little about his revelation in the car but he gets embarrassed and shrugs it off. They tell him they’ll don’t think of him any differently, which, duh. Bolin gets them all started on saying how much they love Mako. They do, of course, but they also all say it because they know how embarrassed he gets. His face is absolutely burning and he tries to walk off into the ocean before Bolin drags him back. Mako knew he would.

They most definitely go to the aquarium the next day. They spend nearly the whole day in there. 

Bolin just wants to share a romantic kiss with Opal with some serene nature background. 

Korra shares this sentiment. 

Mako’s tired of having to take pictures of his friends kissing in nature, he just wants to enjoy the waterfall, guys please, no more pictures. Why do you need me to do it? Why can you take the pictures for each other?

Opal takes the most pictures of nature. Bolin takes the most selfies and gathers the most rocks. He’s got nearly a whole bag by the end of their trip. 

On their last stretch they hit up an amusement park. 

Opal loves the ferris wheel the most. Bolin decidedly does not. He clings to her every time they move and the compartment rocks.

It’s not surprising that Asami enjoys the fastest rollercoaster they have. It is a bit surprising that Mako is right there with her when she tries to drag them back in line for another go. 

They all do the bumper cars numerous times. 

They all have a competition to see who can win the largest stuffed animal. Mako wins. He gives the absolutely giant Ninja Turtle to Opal because he knows she was trying to win it for Bolin. Bolin gives his little jellyfish keychain to Mako in return. He absolutely attached it to his keys. 

They all win as many toys as they can to give to the kids back home. 

When they are finally all back home they agree the trip was one they’ll always remember and treasure. They also agree to never do it again and Asami swears she’ll buy the plane ticket herself if they ever decide to go anywhere again. 

They do the same thing the very next year.

[flightofaqrow]

mothering (on mother’s day)

qrow + Sun Wukong ( @ultravioletvoleur​ )

fighting clearly hadn’t been what was on the kid’s mind. maybe he just wasn’t thinkin’ at all; he definitely isn’t right now as words tumble from his mouth, barely coherent. qrow still doesn’t need to hear these things about his niece, but he’ll let this one slide.

Sun leans his back against the wall, tail swaying to and fro. His face spoke to the internal conflict he was struggling with when it came to this, “I was hoping I could actually… Ask for your advice?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Quick update, may wanna say Happy Mother's Day to your niece. ...Kaybye!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow whips open Harbinger faster than a nevermore diving upon its prey, and fires a warning shot off as Sun makes a break for it, near missing the base of his tail.

he knows the kid well enough by now, and trusts Yang even more, than to truly buy into the implications of his statement. oh, but if playing this cat and mouse game makes the cheeky monkey so happy, qrow will absolutely go a round.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“YIPE!”

That was a much faster reaction than he’d anticipated, barely making it ten feet before the crack of exploding gunpowder rang out. There was a hole smoking in the wall in front of him- dangerously close to banana height, and Sun began sweating. He turned very jerkily, with the closest approximation of a cocksure grin he could manage through his abject terror.

“Oh, uh. D-did you… Need something?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

well, at least qrow got to make a point, should he ever actually need to act on teaching the kid a thing or two. alternatively, about picking fights one may not be able to win. a similar tough past he may have, thieves at least tended to work from codes of honor. not every struggle is the same.

he prods, sarcastic, feigned anger lining the sharp curve of narrowed eyes, sword still deployed at his side, “what in all of remnant makes you think you can just say things to me?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There is a very audible gulp as the Hunstman advances on him. Every other time they’d traded barbs, he’d gotten the sense that Qrow was something of an old glory days kind of person, who had lost their touch a bit. However, that split second action, and the pointed glare burning through his confidence like a hot knife through butter, told him a whole new story.

Qrow Branwen was what his nightmares were made of.

“Well you see I thought we were buddies and I thought you would know it was a joke I swear I haven’t laid a hand on your niece like that I would never well not never possibly in the future but definitely not right now not that I don’t think she’s attractive she’s very attractive oh but that’s not the only reason-”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tch. forever a curse, even at his best. maybe he laid on the drama a bit too thick. honestly, he thought a bit of zeal is something Sun could appreciate. he’s far too much talk still, isn’t he? all bright light and translucent beaming rays which still questioned their own substance. he might be further ahead than he seemed at first, but still has a ways to go. …kids these days.

“of course I knew it was a joke, golden boy.” qrow folds away his weapon, drops his stance, while raising a brow. he lessens his posturing, but not his attention, hand still remaining on Harbinger’s hilt in the case of some trick.

“but I also took it as a taunt, tellin’ me you’re finally ready for a real man’s brawl. heh, guess i was wrong.”

fighting clearly hadn’t been what was on the kid’s mind. maybe he just wasn’t thinkin’ at all; he definitely isn’t right now as words tumble from his mouth, barely coherent. qrow still doesn’t need to hear these things about his niece, but he’ll let this one slide.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“What?!”

He’d almost lost his stones by way of his ass for a sassback?! Their Uncle was even more intimidating now, and he was going to die on that hill. Still, though, knowing that he wasn’t actually angry was a huge relief. The tension left his body and he slumped down with a sigh-

And then he noticed Qrow’s weapon was still out and ready.

“He-hey, uh. N-no need for that. I didn’t come here looking for a fight. I actually wanted to get you riled up so we could then use that energy into doing something for her. I- I know her situation with her mom isn’t great. I dunno the specifics, that’s for her to tell me when she’s ready, but…” He trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Well, I guess… I just want to make today lively for her, instead of having people walking on eggshells around her. Make her excited and happy that today happened, rather than add it to a growing pile of disappointing holidays.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“you moron,” finally, he fully releases, instead staring dumbfounded at the other. he really did think he could just come around and say whatever, and still get his way without consequences. what single-minded, reckless, stupid drivel. yeah, qrow had been an idiot brained teen at one point, but seriously never that bad. he didn’t have that kinda energy. different plans took different tactics, did they not teach anything at Haven or Shade anymore?

“i don’t need to be ‘riled up’ to do something for my family, kid. couldn’t you just ask like a normal person? i promise you, me bein’ jazzed up ain’t the kinda lively she needs.”

eyes now round with sadness; his chest deflates; pointed corners of his mouth turn down. it’s too close to the belligerence he used to have - unprovoked, but drunk. he’s trying so hard to be better than that. for a lotta reasons, but Yang too.

he breathes in, and out, fingers running in and out over his forehead. once satisfied in processing all these thoughts, in having switched gears, he turns to Sun once more, hopefully coming off with the same rational attitude he wants in return, “so, then, turn your brain and your sense of respect on, and just tell me what you had in mind, huh?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Well… That’s kinda the thing. I was hoping I could actually… Ask for your advice?”

He leans his back against the wall, tail swaying to and fro. His face spoke to the internal conflict he was struggling with when it came to this. In truth, he’d wanted to go about this like a normal person, more than anything. Something in him, however, be it a defense mechanism or just a general need for attention he’d never really received drove him to do everything to an excess.

Truth be told, nobody hated Sun’s antics more than he, himself.

“I… I’m going to try to be serious here, for a minute. It’s- It’s not something that comes easy.” He sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m… scared. I’m really, truly scared, Qrow, of how she makes me feel. How much it would hurt to lose her, or even see her hurting. I just get so caught up in my own head that I can’t think straight, and… I’ve never…”

Another sigh. “I’ve never had a family before. So I don’t know what to do to help someone who’s mourning theirs. But I see her hurting, and I want to help, and when I came to you, I swear, I wanted to just ask, but. …That would mean… Admitting I love her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

oh, here we go. this roller coaster again. what about his look or his life or any of his choices made him seem like someone to go to for advice? qrow barely scraped his own life together, and still dropped the pieces too many times. but somewhere along the line, somewhere in just trying to do good - for his team, for Oz, for his family, for Ruby, something must have slipped in to his very psyche, huh.

Ruby somehow always knows the right thing to do. Yang had told her.

I had good role models. Ruby had told him.

he’s cursed. and he wrestles with it every damn day. and while he’d never call it a good thing, maybe some people see themselves in that same fight. maybe he sees himself in theirs and their struggle to understand and express themselves, and that’s why even in the times he wants nothing to do with other people and their decisions, and he’s sure he’ll just mess everything up, he can’t help but listen. he can’t turn them away. doing so would do nothing to mend the wounds of a broken world. and in the end, continuing to try is the only way to stick it to Salem.

he takes a spot next to the young man against the wall, knee bending and sole kicking up as he leans, crosses his arms, turns his head to Sun and fixes his gaze on him.  

“yeah. loving people is scary. probably means you’re doin’ it right.”

qrow doesn’t know a damn thing about romance. not like that, anyway. he’s never been brave enough to face that very fear, to let someone that intimately close. almost, sometimes, maybe. somehow his chances always disappear before he’s quite there, only confirming those very fears. a great and terrible feedback loop, that. although, he can’t say such words are entirely unfamiliar; admittedly, the whole conversation is nostalgic. thrice over. he laughs, a bittersweet little huff, “…you sound just like her parents.”

that kinda love he knows, found, eventually. family. and if you ask him, they’re equally as scary to think of losing. “our family has never been the typical picket fence dream either, so don’t think you’re missin’ pieces of some non-existent normal. there’s no big secret about bein’ one, kid. you just gotta be there for each other.”

a palm-down hand raises to sweep across his body in a dismissive motion, “an’ not everything has to be some grand production to top the one before. trust me, i’ve screwed that up enough times to know.” qrow looks towards the ground, slides the toe of his shoe back and forth. “Yang, she… she’s used to people comin’ and goin’ in her life. if they come back at all. so, seriously… just go to her. be with her. she’s a tough egg, and too smart. she’ll tell you what she needs if you can just shut your giant trap enough to let her.”

[liliesoftherain]

My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch.9 Accidental Backstory?

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

Another chapter out! This will be my last post for a bit, finals week is next week so after that then I’ll get back to it but for now, I need to focus on passing chemistry ;-;  But more to come soon no worries! Enjoy!

TAGLIST:  @rizamendoza808 !(: @iris-suoh !(: @quicksilverfangirl​ !(: @shortperson202 !(: @noodlenerd101 !(: @matchamidoriya​ !(: @thorsbtch-captainnoobmaster69me​ !(:

“We’ve reached the halfway point but it’s still anybody’s game! Class 1-B has made an unexpected showing, but can they keep it? And who will win the 10 million points in the end!?”

Your team glared at the offenders who had the audacity to not only steal your headband, but also piss off the hot head of the group. You assumed the rider knew of Bakugou’s explosive nature and was trying to use it to his advantage. What he didn’t realize was it wasn’t a smart idea to anger Bakugou, it was going to be their end.

“Quit provoking him Monama,” one of the students muttered,” we don’t want to stoop to their level.”

“I guess you’re right,” The Monama kid sighed,”It’s not very heroic of me. Besides, you know how these things work. Heroes are always being surrounded by villains with nasty intentions and desperate attempts of some kind of revenge.” His smirk widened. 

You felt your eyebrow twitch. This guy was talking about nasty intentions when he’s the one trying to get under your guys’ skin? He hated your class and he was using that as fuel, if that wasn’t some type of weird payback/revenge, you didn’t know what was.

“You have no right to call us out for the same bullshit you punks are doing!” You spat back before you could stop yourself,” You’re acting on some petty-ass hatred for our class, doesn’t that make you villainous as well?”

“My my,” Monama glared at you,” what a dirty mouth on this one. You should really muzzle your dog, Bakugou.”

Bakugou felt any patience he had snap at that very moment, his eyes burning with rage as his body began to shake. He saw red and then let out a yell in frustration.

You were annoyed at this ugly boy calling you a dog, but before you could respond Bakugou’s aggressive scream sliced through the air, effectively shutting you up before you even began. 

“Bakugou man calm down, he’s trying to say crap to rile you up! Don’t fall for his trick otherwise we can’t get our points back if you aren’t thinking straight.” Kirishima grunted, even though he was pretty pissed himself at this guy for calling you out.

“SHUT UP! Isn’t it obvious? I’ve never been calmer. Lets fucking go after them already!” Bakugou yelled back.

“Whatever you say..!”

With that your group took off, sprinting after the other team while they only stood still. You were confused as to why they weren’t moving, but you had no time to express your concerns as another on of Bakugou’s shouts filled the air,

“You think you’re tough, huh? You think you can talk shit and get away with it?! Well I got news for you, DIEE!” 

A loud explosion ripped through the air, but Monama dodged last second and brought a hand up to Bakugou’s face and set off an explosion of his own back at him. You gasped loudly, and your team managed to get some distance between the other, not before Monama was able to slap Kirishima’s head. You looked up at Bakugou and saw scorch marks on his cheek, and you glared at the smug boy across the way from you. 

Bakugou’s teeth grit in frustration, his cheek stinging from the damage taken. He was pissed, how did this guy have such a similar quirk? Nearly the same as his own, it was ridiculous. 

In an attempt to get the boy back, you brought your right arm up and shot a beam of light. Making sure it was hot enough to leave a mark, but not too hot that it'd really hurt the kid. You just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. However, Monama simply brought an arm up and it hardened, your light unable to do any damage. 

“You both have impressive quirks for sure, but I think you’ll agree when I say mine is better.” Monama said smugly.

“What? My quirk too?” You heard Kirishima say in surprise.

“You bastard, so you can copy others quirks huh?” Bakugou deduced with a frown set firm on his face.

“Wow you figured it out, congrats, I guess even idiots can understand some things can’t they?”

The team was ready to charge at Monama when you were all cut off by a wall of sludge.  You glanced to your right and saw another team creating the substance. You assumed they were classmates and they were looking out for each other. You sent another ray of heat towards the new team, as the guy wielding the sludge quirk quickly used it to protect himself and effectively stopping his attack on you guys. 

They left shortly after, telling Monama to watch out while they did. The boy in question only smirked at your team, causing tension to rise higher.

“ONLY 3 MINUETS LEFT!”

“I can’t move! I’m stuck!” Kirishima panicked. He was trying to remove his foot from the gunk of that one boys quirk, but it hardened on him and he was utterly stuck. You put a hand out and used the heat from your light to break through the substance. 

“Stand still Eijiro, I’ll melt it away!”

Once he was free, you guys charged again, heading straight towards at Monama as his team had started to walk away from you. Bakugou’s patience was running thin so he jumped off of your support and blasted away, shouting the whole way.

“You losers get back here!”

“He really has got to start letting us know when he’s going to do that.” Sero sighed.

You knew it was going to be pointless for him to charge again the same way and expect a different result. You were sure all he needed was a touch and he could copy your quirk, after all he did smack Eijiro. But who’s to say what the actual mechanics of it is? Does he need to touch Bakugou again to use his quirk, or does he have them all set like a speed dial and can change quirks in the blink of an eye? 

Best thing to do was try to give Bakugou the upper hand by making it to wear Monama was off guard and unable to use Bakugou’s quirk against him. Making sure he had his eyes on the hot head flying towards him, you sent a blast through the air. Making it change to a solid when it collided with Monamas unsuspecting chest, allowing the boy to be thrown back. His teammates being the only thing to keep him from falling off while Monama grabbed his chest in shock and pain.

One member of his group yelled out his name as Bakugou quickly approached, and since Monama was winded, the student used his quirk and trapped Bakugou in a giant bubble. He was pounding on the thing as he floated in midair inside of it, the student snickering at the sight.

“Ha, you look pretty stupid fighting with air.”

“Well it seems we’re okay for now,” Monama thanked his own teammate before throwing a heated glare at you,” you’re going to pay for that-”

“Oh yea?” You smirked, not showing any fear. You weren’t scared of this brat. ”Bring it on you chump. You thought I was all bark and no bite eh? Maybe I do need some type of muzzle or restraint because if not, you best believe I’ll kick your ass.”

“No, you need a muzzle because you’re a filthy animal in every sense of the word. You think you’re better than us, but you’re scum just like your boyfriend and the rest of your class. You’re the reason the female dog has it’s nickname you bitch-” The sound of glass breaking cut Monama off.

Bakugou broke free of the prison he was trapped in and punched Monama across the face before grabbing most of the headbands around his neck. Thinking quickly, Sero shot out his tape and caught him right before he hit the ground, yanking him up and bringing him back to your group. His landing this time was much smoother than the first as he quickly settled on your guys’ arms.

Bakugou was absolutely livid. How dare that background character trap him in a stupid bubble and make him look weak in front of everyone. How fucking dare that droopy eyed asshole call you a bitch when he was the only bitch he saw here. And worst of all, how dare those motherfuckers still have one headband left. He wanted them to go down, no headbands, zero-points-you’re-out down.

“You should really warn us before you jump dammit.” Sero grunts out.

“Shut up.” Bakugou barked back, not in the mood.

“It’s alright, at least we’re advancing now!” Kirishima yelled out excitedly. 

“No!” Bakugou growled, starting to smack Kirishima’s head,”We’re not done yet! We’re going to make sure those assholes have nothing left, we’ll fucking obliterate them. Then we’re going to be the indisputable champions of the game.”

“I wasn’t able to brace myself when I jumped,” He continued, you and Sero gave each other a look as he was still smacking the other boy’s head. Said boy taking no care. “Let's get our points back, then take down Deku and get his 10 million.”

“Right! Let’s go!” You all agreed, his words firing everyone up.

“Elbow guy, tape them! Get the back!” Bakugou lifts his left leg, giving Sero the opportunity to shoot, blocking the other team’s right side.

“My name is Sero dammit!” 

“Glow worm! Can you trap them there!?” Bakugou lifted his right leg for you to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t you doubt me Bakugou!” You yelled, sending off a large blast that was bigger than the others you’ve used.

 It was larger than your normal beams but still pretty small, reaching just under your hips. You made sure to keep the heat up as you manipulated the light to warp on their left side and behind, creating a barrier. You all rushed forward, faster than before. The heat you created caused Monama and co to stagger back, and get caught in Sero’s tape. The were unable to move out of the way as you all rushed up on them.

Bakugou raises a fist as the guy who originally trapped him was creating another bubble, this time to act as a shield. In one punch Bakugou effectively smashed through it, easier than the first one. You saw the other groups eyes widen as Baugou kept his fist outstretched and made a grab for the last headband. 

“Woah did you see that folks, Bakugou is a force to be reckoned with! We also saw some impressive moves from his group members, like Sero from class 1-A, and of course our little miss Hakamata! WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT WITH ONLY 30 SECONDS OF THE MATCH LEFT!”

You dropped your small heat barrier, and you all skidded away from Monama and towards the giant ice slabs. Once close enough, Bakugou sent off an explosion hot enough to melt the ice and wide enough for you all to run through. Once inside, Bakugou jumps off of the group and uses his quirk to help him lunge towards the two other clashing teams, lead by Todoroki and Izuku.

“Who’s got the points!?”Bakugou yelled as he looked back and forth between the two points, seeing Midoriya going after Todoroki he knew. 

“DAMMIT ICYHOOOT!”You held your breath, waiting for Bakugou to snatch the points.

“TIMES UP!” 

But alas, things never went the way you wanted them to. Bakugou belly flopped onto the ground as Present Mic announced the end of the match. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your lips at the sight of the hot head face-first on the ground. 

“SHUT UP, WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY!?” He turned his head and snarled, obviously not as amused as you were. 

Sero and Kirishima joined in with their own laughs and Bakugou felt a vein pop as he moved his face back towards the dirt and screamed.

“Let’s take a look at our top 4 teams shall we? In the number one spot, we have team Todoroki! Second place is none other than team Bakugou! As for third, our team is-oh wow, team Shinso! That’s a shock! Finally, last but not least, in fourth our last team is, TEAM MIDORIYA!” The crowd went wild. 

“Man we were so close to first.” Kirishima sighed.

“Yeah sure, but we’re continuing so it doesn’t matter.” Sero shrugged.

“I don’t think our fearless leader agrees with you there.” You giggle while watching Bakugou as he slammed his fist on the ground throwing a fit.

“He’s like a rabid animal.” Sero muttered.

“You okay Bakugou?” You asked. He kept his face planted in the dirt, ignoring you.

“Now let's take an hour break for lunch before we start the next activities! Hey EraserHead, let’s grab some food!”

“I just wanna nap.”

You walk over to Bakugou and poke him with your foot.

“Are you coming with us or are you going to lay there all day.”

“Fuck off.” Bakugou got up and glared at you, before walking away on his own.

You shrugged at the other boys, walking with them to the entrance before catching sight of Izuku and his team. The poor boy was crying his eyes out, and that made you want to laugh. He was a total baby, just like Bakugou. They were pretty similar in various ways, but all different at the same time, it was weird.

“You guys go on ahead and I’ll catch you later!” You told your two teammates, and they nodded back in agreement before making their way out of the stadium.

Walking over to Izuku’s group, it wasn’t hard to miss the giant tears that fell from his eyes. You placed a hand on his shoulder and your heart squeezed at his big watery green eyes that looked into yours at the action.

“You guys did amazing! I’m glad you were able to find a great team Izuku.” 

“Thank you (y/n)! It means so much!” He started to cry even harder at your praise. 

He was just so happy that he made it, so happy you made it, he was just so happy. More tears started to fall, practically sending him into the ground. You sighed before grabbing onto his hand, trying to lift him from the ground. Everyone was walking away to the lunchroom and you wanted to make sure you both got a spot.

“C’mon Deku let’s go get some lunch! I’m starving!”

He agreed and you both walked towards the entrance, but were stopped by someone suddenly before you got the chance to reach it. You had to stop yourself from running into their chest, looking up in confusion.

“Todoroki?” 

He didn’t answer you, choosing to stare coldly at Izuku, and you felt some protect-izuku-at-all-costs instinct kick in, you tsked and crossed your arms. 

“I just need to talk to Midoriya.” You looked at the boy in question, and while he had looked a bit nervous, he seemed just as confused as you were.

“O-kay?” He finally tore his gaze away to look you in the eyes. You felt your heart thump and blamed it on the icy gaze he held.

“Now. Alone.” 

“Yeah whatever, thanks for asking politely.” You grumbled out.

Looking at Izuku to make sure he was okay to be left alone. He just nodded politely and you smiled at him. Smile turning down as you walked away, passing by Todoroki, shoulders brushing as you did. Well, more like your shoulder and his bicep, what’s it with these boys being so tall?

“I’ll see you later Deku.” 

Todoroki didn’t let your attitude bother him, he knew you were still wary of him for calling you out and he didn’t blame you. While he held no ill will, this was something he had to speak about alone to Midoriya. He already said his two-cents to you, and he hoped you’d understand. This wasn’t a fight he wanted with you, only with Midoriya

You guess Bakugou was right to call him IcyHot, but not just for his quirk. His mood really did flip on a dime, and while you thought Bakugou was an arrogant jerk, Todoroki beat him by a mile. You felt angry, but at the same time you didn’t. You saw something else in him when you two talked, even if it was only for a second. You didn’t want to feel this was about him, but it always seemed like no matter what good deed he ended up doing, the blunt and nasty attitude washed it all away. You hoped that he could maybe one day it could be different, that he could be a friend. As of right now, you didn’t think you could call him that. No matter what you both went through during the U.S.J, or even the shared understanding of being a child of a top 10 hero. 

You will admit, while you didn’t realize Todoroki was Endeavor’s son at first, it wasn’t hard to figure out. Especially after the training with AllMight, that quirk couldn’t have been mistaken. You glanced back, seeing them both walk towards a different entrance. While doing so you ended up locking eyes with Todoroki for a split second before turning away. You huffed, feathers ruffled and belly empty. You just wanted some food, and you needed some water in your system.

Making your way through the corridor, you were about to walk outside in the direction of the lunch hall when a was hand pulling you back. You yelped and quickly spun around, bringing your fist up your fist to counter attack. 

“Hey knock it off or I won’t let you come.” 

“Bakugou?” Said boy was holding your fist in an attempt to stop you from punching him. You muttered a sorry before letting your hand fall to your side, and cocked your head at him in a questioning gaze.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think? I want to know why the hell that damn IcyHot finds Deku more of a threat than me. So I’m going to listen to what he has to say. You in or not glitter bomb.”

You bit your lip, looking into his ruby red eyes. While you wanted to know what was happening, because you were curious, another part of you knew it was wrong. Plus you were hungry, tired, and thirsty. You just wanted to sit down.

Bakugou was getting annoyed at how long you were taking to answer, and he really did not like the way you zoned out while staring at him, biting you lip like that. No not one bit, what the hell was your problem.

“Oi glow worm I’ll leave you fucking here I don’t have all damn da-”

“Yeah shut up lets go!”

You both snuck around to one end of a hall, stopping before it opened up when you heard Izuku’s nervous voice echoed off the walls.

“So you brought me here, now what?”

 You held your breath, afraid to even breathe at the idea of being caught. Your heart was thumping in worry, you wanted to make sure Izuku was okay. 

“We should probably eat soon, the cafeteria is going to be busy! Don’t you think?” Izuku spoke out once more after not getting a response. 

The tension was killing him, it was different when he was with Kaachan, at least he was more open about his feelings that way, and he had some idea on how to deal with the explosive attitude. He’s never dealt with silent intimidation before. Oh what he wouldn’t give to be sitting down and eating with you, he wanted to know all about how your fight with down, and he wanted you to be interested in his too!

“I was overwhelmed,” Todoroki’s voice broke him from his thoughts, “and that made me break the promise I made to myself a long time ago.”

You looked at Bakugou questioningly and he just shrugged in response, eyebrows drawn together.

“None of our team members felt it, but I did. I was the only one in that moment who could sense your true power. It reminded me of AllMight, and when we experienced his quirk first hand.”

“Oh yeah? Um, okay, is that all?”

“I’m trying to say, your power feels just like AllMight’s. Midoriya, tell me. Are you really AllMight’s secret love child. ”

You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Bakugou glanced down at you with a disgusted expression as your shoulders shook with silent laughter. He motioned for you to be quiet, but you can hardly contain yourself. Just the thought of Izuku and AllMight being father and son-

Your movement stopped as you allow yourself to think about it; they were always together, they did have some similarities in their quirks, and Izuku really did look up to AllMight. Was it really that far fetched? Quirks didn’t have to 100% resemble your parents, it’s not like you had your dad’s exact quirk after all. The only thing you and your dad did have that was similar was you could manipulate properties. His was clothing while yours was light particles. Your quirk was a mix of both your parents, who’s to say that’s not the case for Deku?

“No no way! That’s not it at all I swear! But I guess if I said I wasn’t you would think I was saying that to protect my identity and therefore not believe me anyways so I guess it really doesn’t matter if I say yes or no because if I said yes well then why would I be lying about that, and if I said no then you would always be suspicious and doubting so I guess there really isn’t a good way to tell you it’s not true because-”

“Midoriya.”

“Ah, r-right, anyways you’ve got the wrong idea. Why would you even think that.”

“You wouldn’t be the only offspring of a Pro Hero in this class if that were the case. My father is the hero Endeavor, you’ve must’ve heard about the number 2 Hero.”

You gulped, would he bring you up? Or would he respect any privacy you had?

“And then there’s Hakamata.”

Of course he wouldn’t. You felt Bakugou’s stare on you but you kept your gaze at the wall in front of you, not looking at him. 

“Wait, (y/n)? What does she have to do with anything?” Izuku demanded. 

He may have been frightened, but he didn’t like that Todoroki was bringing you into something that had nothing to do with you. He felt some confidence flood his system as he narrowed his eyes at Todoroki. 

“I don’t know what your issue is with me but I can handle it, you don’t need to be dragging her into anything! She’s a good person and you can’t-”

“Don’t you get it?” Todoroki sighed, growing annoyed by his rambling. Why was he making such a big about you anyways? It was pretty exasperating. “Hakamata is the daughter of the number 4 Hero Best Jeanist. While she may be a concern in the future, I don’t have a grievance with her at the moment. But if you were connected to the number 1 hero in any way, that just means I have even more of a reason to beat you.”

Izuku felt his eyes go wide. You were the daughter of the number 4 Pro Hero? That was so cool! But then he realized the full weight of Todorokis’ words and frowned.

“What do you-”

“My old man is ambitious and he aims for the top, but he’s never been able to best AllMight. The Symbol of Peace is living proof of his failure. He’s still going, trying to take down AllMight. One way or another.”

“Todoroki, I don’t understand. Why are you telling me all this, what are you telling me?”

“Have you ever heard of quirk marriages?” 

Your blood ran cold and you felt your hands shake as you balled them into fists by yourself. He was the result of a quirk marriage too? Your head started to ache and you just wanted to be anywhere but here. It was bringing up some memories of your own that you really didn’t want to deal with. You heard Todorki’s voice break through your own metal breakdown.

“People trying to find potential mates solely with the intention of creating powerful children. Like old-fashioned arranged marriages. My father was a man who had many accomplishments and money to throw around, so he bought my mother from her family and used her quirk. Now he’s raising me to usurp AllMight.”

Izuku’s gasped.

“I refuse to be a tool for the scumbag that did that to my mother. I only ever remember her crying. She called my left side unbearable before she poured boiling water on my face... I picked a fight with you to show my old man what I was capable of doing, without having to rely on his damn quirk, and that I can take first place without using it.”

You felt Bakugou tense next to you, and you did as well. It was a terrible burden to place on a child, and you felt anger towards his father. You knew he was a terrible man, but this? How sickening. You heard their footsteps fade away and you shared a grim look with Bakugou. Your mind flashed with images from your childhood and you closed your eyes. 

With heavy limbs you walked away, not even bothering to wait for Bakugou. Your past wasn’t something you needed to be thinking of at the moment, so you just needed to act like nothing happened. You shouldn’t have gone with him and listened in on those two. You knew it was a bad idea, curse your nosy nature.

[thanksjro]

MTMTE #13: Signal to Noise, A Lost Light Interlude- No One Can Resist the Siren’s Call of the Souvenir Shop

You know what we haven’t seen in a while? A Roberts prose story. Let’s fix that, shall we?

Hey, you. Do ya like Rung? Do ya like the therapy twink who got thrown across a bar four million years ago and then never made an impact on anyone ever after that moment? Because if so, you’re in luck- this story has Rung smeared all across it.

…God fucking dammit, James, this is the first line.

Rung, in the eerie, odd quiet of the ship, can hear his inner mechanisms at work. Now, you might think that it would have to be mighty quiet for such a thing to occur, and if we were dealing with human characters you’d be right! However, Rung and all his peers are giant space robots. It probably sounds like a forty car pileup on the freeway when they walk down the hall.

He marvels at the wonder that is the Cybertronian body, revealing himself to be, like apparently half the friggin’ cast, to be old as shit. Rung, who existed during and even before the Functionists, has never changed his body. He looks exactly like he did when he came into the world, and that includes the eyebrows. He didn’t change for the war, he didn’t change to be tall like all his friends, he won’t change for you, and he certainly won’t change for me. Rung’s good where he is.

We get a mention of something truly unbelievable- apparently there are OTHER psychiatric professionals on Cybertron, and their names are just as blatant riffs on real-world psychiatry as his own. Transformers play on words never go terribly deep, so it’s in theme.

Rung doesn’t remember a ton of what happened when he was shot, though he remembers Overlord’s nasty lips for SOME reason. He woke up from his head injury, had a little face blindness, then Swerve, using a prototype of Rewind’s idea of using stories to heal the mind, gave Rung a helping hand.

Way to use that medical degree, Swerve.

Then we get the period of time that the Shadowplay arc was framed within, flit through the whole Temptoria debacle, touch on the fact that the original plan for Rung and Brainstorm teaming up on the avatars was to make them more energy efficient, and arrive in a seedy tourist trap gift shop.

Rung realizes he forgot about someone. He hates when that happens to him, so it kind of bums him out.

I mean, you just got out of the hospital, dude. I’m sure they’ll understand.

So, we’re at the gift shop. Tailgate’s there, Rewind’s there, Skids is trying on hats.

Tailgate has not said Whirl’s name once in canon, and I’m not completely convinced he’s aware of that fact.

Whirl has decided that he’s going to bang his head against the glass of the window outside. That’s what he’s going to do in this moment.

Rung, who the fuck gave you your degree, my guy?

Rung feels kind of bad about leaving Swerve to his fate with Ultra Magnus- this is an interlude, after all, so it’s in the middle of our story- and the fellas wonder just how much trouble they’re going to be in when all is said and done. Tailgate suggests they run away. Rewind’s more interested in conspiracy theories.

But forget all that, someone very special’s just walked through the door of this tacky little shop. Also, Whirl’s disappeared, but no one actually cares about that.

Cyclonus gives his version of a greeting to Tailgate- i.e. looking at him for a second- then starts wandering around the store. Tailgate reveals that Cyclonus has some fucking cheddar to spend, then gives the gang a quick rundown of the big purple guy’s personal philosophy-

Oh god, Cyclonus, are you sad? Is that why you’re humming? Because you’re sad about something? I’m gonna overthink every time you sing now because of this issue.

Skids and Tailgate get into it over just what exactly Cyclonus’ deal is, and also whether shopping is a valid hobby, and Rung walks off to make his purchase for the evening. He walks by a rack covered in memory sticks touting the ability to allow one to relive the Hedonian experience, and Rung gets smacked in the face with the realization of just who exactly he went and forgot.

Back on the Lost Light, Rung is doing his best to keep up with his silent companion on the walk to Rodimus’ office, who is as awkward as he is tall, and it’s Ultra Magnus, so… yeah. Rung wouldn’t typically need an escort to the captain’s office, but it would appear this is one of Rodimus’ off days.

It’s been a rough few months.

We get a quick peek at Ultra Magnus’ personal philosophy on language- namely, that it should be as dry as cardboard and so straight to the point you could use it as a ruler. Rung asks Magnus to please, for the love of god, make a follow up appointment, whether due to professional concern or professional fascination isn’t clear. Then Magnus tries to tell a joke.

I think it might have fallen flat, just a bit.

They reach the office, Rung marvels at the cacophony of mental health issues he lives inside, and they enter.

Rodimus is busy carving shit into his desk, with a scalpel he probably swiped from the medibay. He invites Rung to take a seat, makes light of all the friggin’ awful things that have happened since this trip started, and Rung begins to wonder if he needs to expand his office hours.

Ultra Magnus gets things back on track, and we finally get to see just what exactly Rung forgot.

It was Red Alert, and that very incriminating recording he showed Rung back during the Delphi arc.

Rodimus gets twitchy when it’s brought up, asking Magnus to guard the door. First he tries to deflect, calling Red Alert crazy. When Rung brings up the fact that he heard the basement voice too, Rodimus promises to check into it, right after he does about a million other things.

Looks like Rewind called it.

Rodimus runs out of the office to do his errands, and Rung decides to share a little conversation with Ultra Magnus, because we’re just totally committing to being friends with every patient we have, aren’t we, you creamsicle-looking son of a gun.

You know, we never did find out where Chromedome was during this whole shore leave situation. I hope he had a nice, quiet evening in, and absolutely nothing nefarious took place.

[orions-mercury]

Types of of hallucinations I have // might be triggering for some

I only say it might be triggering because my descriptions of them are really vivid and I don’t want to trigger more hallucinations for you if have them

PHYSICAL:

Kain:: A tall man, about 6′6″, with a short red Mohawk, white iris’ with black sclera, pearl white skin with freckles dusted across his cheek bones. Kain wears a black trench coat with a navy colored shirt underneath and he also wears dark khaki pants and black combat boot. He’s like a guardian kinda, he’s really nice and a like-able kind of guy, i’m sure if he were real he’d have a lot of friends. He was my very first physical hallucination . stuck around for years, disappeared for a couple of months then he popped up again with a message, “Hey kid, yer gonna be o.k, don’tchu worry none.”

Smoker:: another guy in a similar outfit to Kain, hes kinda like the midnight people but his features around his face are blurred out like a picture. He’s like the polar opposite of Kain, he’s mean and gruff and he fuels my delusions a lot and my hyper-sexuality and i hate it but i cant do anything to stop it. he often leaves with the sound of fluttering wings as if hes a fuckin’ angel

Midnight people:: these are the naked creatures that lurk in the corner of my eyes, they just stand there, idle, sometimes they would scratch their nose or stomach but then they just go back to staring, when i look at them they either walk through the nearest wall and disappear or walk out of view and THEN disappear, they come in all shapes and sizes the most common is like an exact copy of me but like a shadow peter pan version. their eyes are white in the day and red at night.

The Crawlers:: These creepy fucks only show up when I’m driving, they appear outside my car doors and run along side it as I drive, they usually come in three’s but sometimes in sixes, when i stop at a stoplight, they peak into the car and when I turn my head to look at them they screech like a fuckin’ banshee and then press their faces against the glass and sniff through the clear material. when I turn off the car they screech again and run off into opposite directions.

60 the cat:: To put it simply hes just a red, fat cat that speaks in an old English accent, he usually the first responder* when I’m about to break, hes a comforting one tbh

Giant Guardian:: A really big 7′7″(not counting the 3 foot antlers) Elk whos fur is black as fuck, large red eyes all over his body  and two white eyes on his face. He screams a lot when danger, my abuser, is near and will walk around the house’s perimeter and just protect i guess.

TNM(The Naked Man):: this dude is nasty, his body looks normal but his face is kinda like slender mans face with ripped up mouth that oozes black goo, he often jerks it in front of me which makes me anxious, he doesn’t talk much he just rubs up against me and heavily breathes in my ear as he hugs me, hes really pale too with no eyes.,

Eyes:: i see eyes of different colors and sizes pop out slightly from my arms, i can feel them blink.

SOUNDS:

Charlie: has a standard male voice from Austria, hes kinda mean but nice sometimes.

6 the kid: 6 is a nice little boy, hes mostly innocent but when hes up for it he’ll suggest that i run into the street and get hit by a car, yea i dont listen to him much, i just try to block him out.

Smoker(non-physical form): When hes just a voice hes really helpful, his voice is often gravelly like Castiel from supernatural, kinda like that anyway, he’ll try to get me to use my coping mechanisms a lot when im feeling the Big Bad Sad™, his voice is rather southern and Bostonian at the same time.

60 The Cat(Non-physical form): Like i said before his voice is like an old fashioned Englishman from like the 40s, hes really nice, sometimes he narrates what i do.

The Whisperers: these dudes are assholes, they have two settings, scream like a banshee or mumble incoherently, they usually scream when my abuser is nearby and btw yes i still live in the same house as him, he’s upstairs i’m downstairs, and he doesn’t do shit now cause i’m older and can defend myself.

General sounds: doors would slam when they are all infasct open, children laughing and crying, zippo lighters being flipped on and off, this was alway repeating at night in my ears btw and then matches being struck against the red strip on their case/box and faint gospel singing for some reason.

SMELL::

So i smell gasoline and fires/smoke like 99.9999.99999.999%%% of the time and like as your reading this im smelling that shit.

TASTE::

And for some fucked reason i can taste hallucinations like smokers fingers, like he was fucking around and when i yawned he shoved like 3 fingers into my mouth and it tasted like cigarettes and cinnamon????? weird.. 

oh iron, blood and molded pennies when i eat certain things like cake, ice cream, turkey products and pastas like spaghetti 

[avengerscompound]

Wings - Part 1

Wings: A Falcon Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count:  2402

Warnings:  Angst, body image issues, Smut (M|F, vaginal sex, public sex)

Synopsis:  Having Wings isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. Sam Wilson might be the one to help you appreciate them.

Part 1

People always say they want wings.  Being able to fly.  The freedom of it.  It’s appealing to them.  They don’t consider how much pain is involved.  It starts the moment the bones break through your skin when you reach puberty and your powers kick in.  The change is so quick that it tears through your body as all the growing pains a person can feel over their life happen all at once.  Stretching and tearing of skin, muscle, ligaments, and bones growing and shaping and forming.  Searing through your spine.  Making your double over and scream out as it feels like your whole back is being ripped apart and torn in two.

That isn’t where it ends either.  Wings large enough to carry a person are enormous. Each stretches out twice as wide as you are high.  The weight on your back is constant.  It creates pain in your shoulders and down your spine.  You have to adjust how you walk so you don’t constantly tip over backward.  Trips to massage therapists and physios become regular and expensive.  A lot of the time they’re too scared to even touch you.

The way you have to hold yourself while you fly doesn’t help that issue either.  You have to actively pull your legs back behind you using your hips and lower back.  The longer you fly the more strain there is against your shoulder blades.  The way it pulls around your chest, putting stress on your ribs creates both pain and breathing difficulty.  It can become searing.  There is a reason birds don’t have long bodies and arms.  Anything else would end in extinction.

Finally… The thing no one ever considers is the hollow bones.  To be light enough to fly your bones need to be hollow.  They break too easily.  You’re always nursing a broken rib or fractured hand.

If the wings weren’t bad enough.  The fact you had to constantly deal with what felt like physical torture day to day wasn’t enough of a burden for one person.  You had also been burdened with being an empath.  You could feel the fear and hatred people felt when they saw you.  You sometimes wondered if it would be different if you had white wings.  There was always just a general hate of mutants in the population, so it would always be there as an undercurrent.  If you had white wings though, maybe they’d think you were an angel.  Instead, your curse was black wings.  So every time anyone saw you for the first time their first instinct was terror because they thought you were a demon.

It was all pain.  All the time.  Yours, other peoples.  Even things like buying clothes and sleeping couldn’t be taken for granted.  There was nothing good about having wings.

You sat on the roof of your apartment building.  Sitting on the ledge like some kind of gargoyle looking over the street.  The feathers of your wings fluttering in the breeze.  You ruffled them and drew them in closer to your body to keep you warm.  The city was noisy as usual and seemed to be moving on without you.  You considered, not for the first time, what it would be like if you weren’t in it anymore.

There was an explosion a few blocks up followed by screaming.  As you stood debating what to do, the sounds of crashing sounded out and a stream of people rounded the corner and flooded down the street.  You stretched your wings and took off.  Not that you knew what you were going to do exactly.  Hollow bones made fighting impossible but maybe if there was someone trapped you could help them out.

Your wings beat against you as you flew towards the commotion.  The heat from the fire is what you felt first.  It caused a huge updraft which you used to carry you up above everything else.  There was some kind of giant robotic orb trashing buildings along Amsterdam.  You could see families trapped in apartments that were sitting above buildings ready to topple after the bottom floor had been blown out.  You tucked your wings in and dived, skiting past the machine and straight to one of the fire escapes.  You knocked on the window and the family inside came rushing over.

“The buildings coming down.”  You said quickly.  “I’ll help get you out.”

“Take the kids, please.”  The father begged.  The fear from within radiated out and felt like you were punched in the gut.  You nodded and scooped the children up in your arms and took off.  The extra weight added a strain to your shoulders and back but you pushed through the pain.  Carrying the kids away from the carnage and keeping their parents in your site so when they safely reached the edge of Central Park you handed them over and flew back to the action.

As you were flying back you were overtaken by Iron Man and War Machine flying as fast as they could passed you.  A moment later they were joined by Falcon.  He paused for a second to look at you.  There was confusion in the look but something else. Admiration maybe?  Respect?  He continued on so fast that you didn’t have time to process it.

You repeated what you did before.  Getting people free of their homes and carrying them to the edge of the park and putting them down. Again and again, you did it until you ached to the core and your lungs burned with every breath in.

“Hey, you!  Raven!  Can you see that cable on the side of this thing?”  Iron Man barked at you.

You started and did a roll turning back to where he was hovering.  You circled the machine and spotted the cable.  “Yeah.”  You yelled back.

“We’re gonna distract this thing, you pull it.”  He called.

You furrowed your brow, not sure why they wanted you to do it when there was a whole Avengers team down there, but you nodded and swooped around waiting for the signal.

The whole team started attacking the machine at once.  None of them making even the slightest dent on it, but each was being attacked by something different.  Like the machine had been designed specifically to take the team down.

“Now, bird, now!”  Stark yelled.  You tucked your wings in and dived grabbing the cable and pulling.   It seemed to stick so you put your feet against the side and beat your wings pulling as hard as you could.  It yanked free and you tumbled back, slamming into the ground.  Something came loose on the orb and Hawkeye, Falcon, War Machine and Ironman all focused their attacks on it.  You were just struggling to your feet when it exploded knocking you away.

If the first fall hadn’t broken something, the second one definitely did.  You felt something in your left wing crack, as well as your right arm.  You’d definitely broken at least two ribs.  There was the smell of burning feathers filled your nose and you tried to pat the fire out but each movement you made was more painful than your last.

There was a thud beside you and you looked up to see Falcon tuck his mechanical wings away.  “Hey, keep still.  I’ll get that.”

He said crouching down and patting out the embers on your damaged wings.

Pity.  That’s what you felt.  His pity mixed with your pain.  You started to cry.  It had been so long you’d been living with this and only when the wings had first come through had you cried before.  Falcon hesitated for just a split second before he wrapped you in his arms.  He was gentle and barely shifted your body, but you put your head in his lap and he stroked your hair as the tears freely flowed down your face and stained a patch on his pants.

“It’s okay.  You’re safe.  You did great.”  He soothed.  “Don’t move.  You’ve broken your wing.”

“Not just my wing.”  You sobbed.  “Hurts.  It hurts.”

The pity increased but there was something else there.  He was proud of you.  It was weird.  He didn’t even know you.  Where was the pride coming from?

“Okay.  I’m just going to check you over okay?”  He said softly.  “I’m trained in this.  Do you trust me?”

You nodded your head and his hands started to work over your body gently.  They slid over your wings, you hissed when they touched the break.  He felt around and moved on.  Each break or sprain he touched on and kept going.   You watched him closely.  His brows knitted, his deep brown eyes set in concentration.  “The ribs are worrying.  If I get you to move they might puncture something.  We’ll call in an ambulance but have them take you to the tower.  Not sure you want to get treated at a regular hospital.”

You took a deep breath, the pain in your ribs flaring and you nodded your head.  “Thank you.”  You whispered.

While you might be the one with the wings, it was Sam Wilson that was the real angel.  After being taken back to the Avenger’s Tower you were put in casts and splints and kept on bedrest as your bones knitted.

One thing you noticed in general, no one in the Tower, at least no one you came in contact with was afraid.  Not once.  There was pain in the tower.  Loss and grief flowed through them all even through the kindness and care and snark they displayed to each other and to you.  Yet underneath there was always hope.  Hope that things would get better.

While Sam Wilson had that loss, it ran as dull background noise in his emotions constantly, there was so much more.  So many louder and more beautiful feelings.  Hope.  Loyalty.  Stubbornness.  Honor.  Kindness.  Love.  He loved so strongly.  His friends were like his family and he loved them so deeply.

His feeling for you changed over the weeks you spent there.  They started with this deep interest and admiration.  You found it hard to make eye contact with him to begin with because you weren’t even sure why he was thinking these things.  Each day he would come and see you.   You would talk.  It started small.  Asking how you were feeling and if you’d eaten or if he could get you anything.  Then he started asking about you.  What you did.  Where you were from.  Your family.  He told you his story too.  About his parents and his siblings.  About how he joined the air force.  About how he got the wings.  He liked to talk to you about flying.

Hearing about flying from Sam Wilson was like hearing about all the things people tell you they imagine having wings would be like.  He was never happier than when he was talking about being in the air.  How it made him feel free.  Special even.  The word special was so perplexing because Sam Wilson was special.  The wings had nothing to do with it.  Yet somehow, next to all these superheroes he didn’t see it until he had those wings on.

The feelings went from that initial interest to caring, to desire and you matched it.  You sought out his touch, resting your hand on his when he put it on the edge of the bed.  As your bones healed you started taking walks with him.  Going easy because of the bruising on your ribs still making it hard to both breath and hold your still damaged wings up.

He took you up to the party deck and out on the landing pad.  You both stood out, letting the cold wind whip past you.  It ruffled your feathers and you shook out your wings trying to get them to lie straight in their state of regrowth.

“Here let me just…”  He said, holding up his hand out.

Once people got to know you it didn’t take them long to get from being scared to wanting to touch your wings.  You hated it.  It felt too intimate.  Like they’d just grabbed your breast or run their fingers through your hair.  But this was something different.  He’d asked.  That always helped put you at ease.   It wasn’t just curiosity, though that was there.  You could feel how he wanted to examine them again.  Feel the muscles underneath.  Touch your feathers.  Right now what he wanted was to actually help you and make you feel comfortable.

The thing that made you most comfortable was you wanted that intimacy with him as well.  You wanted his hands on you.  Not just your wings.   Everywhere.  You wanted his hands on you, running over your skin, caressing you, holding you.

You stretched them out for him as wide as you could.  The splint on left wing not allowing for full mobility but the right wing stretched out fully, the primary feathers pulling wide so you can see each individually.  Sam’s hands were on them immediately, smoothing them down and pulling stray feathers free.  He was gentle, but firm and the way it felt is almost like when someone runs their fingers over your scalp.  You hummed and moved back into his hands.  They moved from your wings to your back, running gently down your spine and around your hips.  You leaned back into him, folding your wings around your front.  He pressed himself against you and his lips ghosted over your neck.  Your skin prickled and you sucked in air through your teeth.

“You are so beautiful.”  He whispered, his lips brushing over your neck, and his fingers teasing under your breasts.

You turned your head and kissed him.  His lips moved with yours and his tongue teased them open and swirled with yours.  You turned in his arms and your wings spread out behind you allowing his hands to roam over your body as you kissed.

You ran your hands up under his shirt, teasing your fingers over his stomach and along the waistband of his pants.  He pulled back gently and looked into your eyes.  “We should stop.  Don’t want to hurt you…”  He said, slightly breathless.  “Besides…”

“What is it?”  You asked leaning your forehead against his, not sure if you were relieved he slowed it down, or just frustrated.

He smiled and cupped your jaw.  “Wanted to ask you on a date first.”

// NEXT

[langwrites]

Lang Plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses

I’m playing them in this order: Blue Lions, Black Eagles, Church of Seiros, and then Golden Deer. (I organized them by how likely it is to have a true final boss who is actually as relevant to the lore as the opening cutscene. And also because I thoroughly spoiled myself about that.)

So, after sinking what the game tells me was eighty hours into a single playthrough, here’s my thoughts on the first thing I tackled.

Spoilers below the cut.

Very Early Game (Blue Lions):

It’s the Fire Emblem Dad! (I played Path of Radiance. I’ve seen this dude before.)

Hi Claude. Sorry, I’m gonna steal every single one of your peers I can catch. Same to you, Edelgard.

Dimitri is so awkward it’s almost palpable.

Aww, Ashe and Annette are adorable. Mercedes has that dead anime mom hairstyle that sets my teeth on edge, but she’s super nice. It’ll take me longer to warm up to the boys, I think.

Felix is the token “I MUST BECOME STRONGER” myrmidon character. Gotta have at least one per game, apparently.

Sylvain = Sain. Token womanizer cavalier. His support list is pretty odd, though.

Dedue = the guy who done punch things. And he *has* to punch things, because he’s slow as hell and his speed growth isn’t great.

What the fuck is that strength growth, Dimitri. What the fuck is that Charm growth.

I was so close to making him my team’s designated Dancer unit, you guys.

Beleth is gonna be their teacher and somehow I don’t imagine this going super well.

Pre-Timeskip School Life:

Once again, I regret not being able to support with characters who’ve firmly attached themselves to the other two houses. (Which is only like three people in my “gotta catch ‘em all” playthrough, but whatever.)

But I can support all the recruitables, which is...something that took me a long while to do.

The first person I stole for the Blue Lions was Caspar. The first person who straight-up joined was Flayn. Yay, auxiliary punchers and auxiliary-auxiliary healers!

Ashe, your adoptive father really didn’t need to die. You were right. It was all bad all the way down.

Flayn gets kidnapped and I fuck around for a month raising everyone else’s supports and realizing Seteth’s too distraught to train my Lance level. Dangit.

I missed the opportunity to support with Leonie entirely because her personality put me off for the first few in-game months, and it turns out you can only start her support chain while Jeralt is alive.

Dammit. Now I’ve gotta train with lances.

What’s-his-fuck over at the village sure did do a thing, didn’t he. And if he hadn’t dropped his disguise just then he could have gotten away with it.

Their scheme would’ve failed faster if anybody around this fucking monastery could apply logic to shapeshifter shenanigans.

Seriously, no one should have trusted Monica.

You vanish over the course of a year, and come back with your personality totally inverted.

Tomas/Solon had just demonstrated what it looks like when these dickbags drop cover, and then everyone subsequently failed to make the correct deduction. If they hadn’t, Jeralt would’ve lived.

Dad-stabbing: A theme of Fire Emblem games. Seriously. Check out the huge list of dead dads (which goes all the way back to the first game in the series.)

Also dead moms, but for some reason moms are less prominent in the series as a whole.

For the purposes of this analysis, we are also including every single boss who had kids. Which isn’t most of them, but god damn there are still a lot of dead dads.

Dorotheaaaaaa be my frieeeeeeend

Yoinked Linhardt after finally showering him in enough gifts to get his sleepy ass to sign transfer papers.

Swiped Marianne, Bernadetta, Petra, Ignatz, Alois (kinda), Shamir (sorta), Manuela (iffy), Hanneman (yoink), Catherine (see previous), Hilda (how), Lorenz (woop woop), and Leonie (sigh).

The Death Knight remains, for the moment, unpillaged for his Dark Seal drops. This time it was an accident: I killed everyone else in the room except for him and a priest/mage, but then that last dude squared up with Felix and died.

All the points I poured into their associated skills and their supports, however, left one big gap:

DAMMIT FERDINAND, I’M TRYING TO SAVE YOUR LIFE. WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH ABOUT HEAVY ARMOR. RAPHAEL JOINED UP DESPITE THAT.

(I got a B-rank support with him and he popped into my office to say he was transferring, nbd. Ferdinand’s B-rank is locked until after the timeskip.)

tl;dr: The only recruitable character I missed was Ferdinand.

Seteth and Gilbert don’t do shit until post-timeskip and Rhea isn’t playable, so w/e.

As soon as I say that, Seteth and Flayn have a paralogue. It’s a beach level. I hate beach levels and desert levels. Seteth gets to be MVP because he’s the only jerk who can fly.

They have a little speech after the paralogue level that reveals that they’re actually father and daughter, not siblings. And the whole story of this little subplot basically confirms that they’re dragons.

Neither of them transform over the course of the game, and that’s okay.

Ruh-roh, Raggy. Let’s see who’s really under the Flame Emperor’s mask--

“AND I WOULD HAVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT TOO, IF NOT FOR--oh wait teleportation exists. BYE!”

Dimitri proceeds to thoroughly lose any chill he ever pretended to have, and I’m 99% sure the villain in question isn’t actually old enough to have caused the Tragedy of Duscur. Unless the biographies in the notes were lying.

Now, the backup dancers over there sure as shit are, but logical reasoning has its time and place.

Whatever. Time for stabbing.

WE ALREADY KNOW THESE PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF MAKING THEMSELVES LOOK LIKE ANYONE, MASKS TOTALLY UNNECESSARY. THE VICTIM ONLY HAS TO DISAPPEAR FOR A WHILE.

WHY AREN’T WE CHECKING THAT AS A BASIC PRECAUTION.

THERE HAVE BEEN THREE OF THESE CREEPS ALREADY.

Their name is too long and I should call them Morlocks.

But seriously, check for infiltrators.

What passes for strategy around here: Take Paladin Dimitri, plunk his overleveled ass down on a corner where all the enemies’ targeting reticles converge, and wait five minutes for all the counterkill animations to play out.

If I wanna try the same with Sylvain, he needs to be backed up by at least Annette and probably Felix. Maybe even Mercedes if she’s not already busy slinging Physics around.

Dimitri’s fine with just sitting around with a forged Steel Lance and poking holes in everything.

Beleth can do the same, but is much more reliant on dodging and not just facetanking axes.

The little “no damage!” sound effect is still very satisfying. Yes, game, my Defense/Resistance has escaped the bounds of your damage curve.

Dorothea became my Dancer unit, because despite Dimitri having twenty-eight Charm to her nineteen, he begged me not to and also is better sitting on a corner and killing everything.

Huh, the monastery is sure being invad--you know, Edelgard, if it wasn’t already really obvious that your faction is basically the “villain route” in Samurai Warriors parlance, using giant mop-headed demonic beasts as shock troops would probably give it away to observers. If they weren’t already running away in abject terror.

The principle from How to Train Your Dragon still applies: A downed dragon is a dead dragon. If Rhea didn’t want to basically get mobbed, she should’ve stayed in the air and acted as flying artillery for the Knights of Seiros with her mouth laser. She could’ve sat on top of a wall and fired with relative impunity.

Sure, some demonic beasts can fly, but there weren’t any in that cutscene and the flying ones have, mechanically, one less health meter than the landbound ones.

Also, they’re pushovers.

And there’s the washed-out creep brigade! They look like the Grimleal, but with more feathers and less of a tan.

...And there goes Beleth, off to have a five-year nap.

Welp.

Post Timeskip:

Oh good, it’s been five years. Beleth, I hate to break it to you, but you’re probably at least slightly dragon at this point. Check your ears if you have a chance.

Tiki canonically napped for like 99% of her three thousand years in Awakening, ironically enough, so it’s not like dragon-people are exactly early risers.

Poor rando gets asked “what year is it” like that question is ever used outside of fiction. Beleth doesn’t read time travel books, I take it.

“oh you probably shouldn’t go to the monastery, it’s like super haunted and shit”

“sorry what was that i couldn’t hear you over the sound of me climbing up to the monastery”

Eyyyy, it’s a lance-wielding pirate.

...Hi, Dimitri. Where’d your macaroni hair go.

You know, it’s not surprising that Dimitri would think Beleth was a hallucination. He spent a lot of time yelling at his inner demons even pre-timeskip, after taking a couple of severe psychological shocks.

But he absolutely should have walked into her and been surprised when he knocked them both on their asses.

He’s been spending the last five years stabbing people, hasn’t he.

Yep.

He looks like he fell out of Game of Thrones.

Blue Lions! Rah rah something team chant. Rah rah Rasputin, lover of the Russian queen~

None of you people trained any of your skills. In five years. Dimitri you were a paladin. Did you eat your horse.

You are all getting sent to boot camp.

Hi, Gilbert. Why are you playable now all of a sudden. Why is your speed a fucking two.

THIS IS WHY MIKLAN HANDED YOU YOUR ASS.

Once again, the “plunk Dimitri’s overleveled ass down on a corner and watch people die” plan is still a valid strategy. I still don’t know where he gets all this strength (and charm). Like, goddamn.

Annette got cornered for like five turns because I was too cowardly to put her in range of a Brawler.

Then she killed him with a critical Fire.

So, I guess Felix’s remarks about Dimitri’s issues make some sense now, but he should still stop making them. I know he’s a tsundere par excellence, but still.

STop TalKing AboUT KilLing PeoPle

Warning: Sympathetic Boss Approaching.

Look, most “sympathetic” bosses in Fire Emblem kinda fall flat. The better ones are placed in the way of the player characters while they’re in the middle of a low point in the emotional arc and get utterly wrecked in a flurry of misdirected fury. Sometimes the characters even feel bad about it afterward. The worst ones are the ones who are just utterly devoted to someone who’s earned everyone’s ire by being a utter fucking asshole.

Good: Mustafa from Awakening and Shiharam from Path of Radiance. Good people forced into bad situations. Or just cornered. Henry talked up the former long after he got a Chrom to the face, and the latter was probably the best-written of the “aw, I wish I didn’t have to kill him” bosses I’ve run across.

Bad: Levail from Radiant Dawn. There is no getting around the fact that General Zelgius was a bad dude. Levail holding him up as a paragon of knightliness and swearing to serve him out of sheer admiration did not make him even marginally better.

We sure did kill Caspar’s uncle, didn’t we. I’m sure that won’t come back to bite us square in the ass. Not after he had that “this guy is a person who cares about stuff” cutscene to remind us of his pixel humanity.

I’m sure it’s fine.

Bwoop, bwoop, everyone say hello to Ferdinand and Lorenz! And say goodbye to Ferdinand, because he didn’t allow himself to be recruited pre-timeskip, isn’t recruitable post-timeskip, and then I had Felix kill him with Thoron.

Lorenz can rejoin us, though. He doesn’t count as an enemy commander once he’s been smacked down to 0 hp.

HI, DEDUE. WHY ARE YOU ONLY LEVEL TWENTY. GET IN THE BACKLINES AND DON’T TALK TO ME UNTIL YOU CAN ACTUALLY DAMAGE ANYTHING.

(Seriously, tho, I was waiting for Dedue to come back for two reasons. One: I did that paralogue of his way back in Part One and he did not get to die after all that. Two: Part of Dimitri’s epic slide into “spear-wielding mountain man who runs around killing people with his bare hands” had to do with Dedue “dying” during the timeskip. That jackass cracked a smile for the first time in ingame years thanks to the world’s punchiest bodyguard coming back alive.)

(Fortress Knight is still the worst class.)

I totally didn’t pay any attention to what, if anything, actually separated Master classes from Advanced classes other than my inability to get my hands on Master Seals. So Ashe is a Bow Knight now, while Felix made it to Mortal Savant (wtf is that name and why is the class model basically a samurai) and I spent a very long time level-grinding Sylvain’s Reason skill to make him a Dark Knight. I aimed for Gremory with all my spellcaster girls, but I admit to not really paying attention to specifics.

(I ended up with five Gremories: Annette, Flayn, Mercedes, Lysithea, and Dorothea. Bernadetta became a Bow Knight and Marianne promoted eventually to a Holy Knight. Dorothea also ended up taking Mortal Savant, which she didn’t ever use.)

(Seteth became a Wyvern Lord and Dedue eventually made it to Warrior.)

(Byleth qualified for Mortal Savant and used it precisely no times.)

(It became pretty clear that I just threw Master Seals at people whenever the possibility of promoting them came up.)

(Certification is a weird system.)

I stopped paying a ton of attention to supports around the time I realized that Ferdinand wasn’t going to be recruited no matter what I did in the final month before Shit Went Down.

Then I started paying attention again like two chapters from endgame, because I remembered some A-ranked supports meant that the characters could get paired endings.

I also stopped ignoring Cyril and started using him as an adjutant, though his stats never quite caught up to Seteth (also known as the only instructor unit I ever consistently used).

Cornelia is absolutely a Morlock plant. That is a face she just made, even in flashback.

I wish we could've seen Dimitri’s now-dead uncle, if only because I’m curious. Also, what did Edelgard’s mom/Dimitri’s stepmom look like?

Why is there always a fire level. I saw it earlier thanks to doing Ingrid and Dorothea’s paralogue, but it’s a Fire Emblem stock level type and I hate it.

Okay, yeah, this area totally got nuked. Magitech nukes, but still. It’s still on fire centuries later? Why??

Felix’s dad is a Holy Knight. Why do I have to keep his ass alive on a field when half the enemies are barely Advanced classes, never mind Master classes.

Oh right, because I want the exp for myself.

Rodrigue is possibly the single person here who can make Dimitri’s murder-bender change direction even slightly. He also gets along with his actual son so much worse than that. He’s like Annette’s dad, but with actual verbal confrontations.

There’s Caspar’s not-exactly-forgotten aunt, here to “secretly” avenge her dead brother. Dude, could you say something about that?

Three levels later: I thought we were done with the dad-stabbing. 

Felix has officially lost Too Many People in pursuit of keeping Dimitri alive. As has everyone else, frankly.

In other routes, Dimitri absolutely runs his campaign off a cliff.

Here, he turns his life around. More or less. Gotta make the choice to get better.

Time to take back the Kingdom’s capital, like we’ve not been doing for four chapters now. Finally.

Cornelia is absolutely a Morlock plant. This is like the fourth character who supposedly did a complete characterization 180 after a period of being actually useful to other people. Goodbye, civil engineer we never knew.

I think the only infiltrator who did things properly was Solon, but he still dropped his disguise for no good reason early in the game. That operatic level of drama is not a trait that helps him survive a month later. Just goes to show that the Morlocks don’t have more than one type of good judgment at a time, I guess.

I know I’m supposed to avoid the giant doom robots, but...

No, it turns out I can just have Dimitri and Beleth stand in the middle of the killzone and destroy them for fun and profit.

Ding dong the witch is dead.

Welp, time to go save the Alliance, which is getting schooled by the Empire.

HI CLAUDE.

I MISSED YOU AND YOUR FAITH IN HUMANITY. And specifically in Dimitri, for some reason? I think he kinda stabbed your soldiers a lot the last time you two met, but feel free to keep being the Best Character.

Your bodyguards are top-notch, man. One of them got hit with anything over the course of the entire battle.

Your general Judith, however, necessitates Flayn using ALL of her Rescue spells just to keep her alive.

I still had to send Ashe to keep a Falcon Knight off you, but no big.

And also had to send Hilda and Petra to kill the Asshole Reinforcements to nick their stuff.

Dimitri sat there and dodge-tanked all of Arundel’s attempts to kill him until the team killed everybody else. Then Dimitri poked him and he died. Dimitri OHKOs everything except monsters now, and that’s only because they have multiple health meters.

And then Claude fucks off to become king somewhere else. Okay then. It was a nice speech, though.

Killing the Death Knight for fun and profit and now Mercedes is crying. Shit.

Doesn’t this place get vaporized in every other route?

Did killing so many Morlocks by accident lock us out of seeing an intercontinental ballistic missile?

(And it is by accident, because this route is like the only one where the Morlocks are incidentals instead of the main problem, partly due to Dimitri’s tunnel vision and partly just because they don’t drop their disguises upon death.)

Well, I guess it’s time to confront Edelgard.

It’s completely valid of her to look at the guy who was threatening to rip her head off with his bare hands and hang it from the gates of the Empire’s capital a little while ago, and then go “Yeah, diplomacy’s shot.” That Dimitri stopped being quite so all-consumingly homicidal a bit ago is not actually reason to try throwing herself on anyone’s mercy. I feel kinda bad for her, since she’s been pushed into this corner and her ace-in-the-hole allies are basically decapitated, and I stole all her potential friends back during the school phase of the game.

Also, sunk cost fallacy.

Still walloped the entire roster of the second-to-last level, down to killing Hubert with Lysithea. Hilda and Cyril killed all the bird demons.

On the final level, which starts immediately after the previous one, three characters got totally destroyed by the sheer number of mages floating around: Dimitri (whose Avoid finally failed him four times in a row), Hilda (same), and Dedue (thirded). Seteth miraculously survived taking 68 points of damage from a single attack, and then later went on to take Edelgard’s last health bar off with a crit.

Weirdly, Beleth’s Avoid was just fine. Finally let her use the Sublime Sword of the Creator and she killed most of the Gremories that took out Dimitri and Hilda.

And everybody we could save per plot constraints got to live! (Except Ferdinand.)

I’m willing to save him on subsequent routes because killing him made Dorothea sad.

Next time: Lang plays the route that screws over most of these people in service of killing the God-Pope.

[worrywirt]

The music video for There There by Radiohead is a masterpiece and here is why

So, as many of you might know already, There There and Nude are my two favourite songs by my favourite band, Radiohead. They are two very unique songs that move me in different but equally intense ways. But what makes There There extra special to me is the video, which managed to combine basically all the things that I love: spooky forests, little animals in clothes, hollow trees with winding roots, references to fairy tales and literature and a dream-like, voyeuristic atmosphere. I am first going to analyse the song itself, then how combined with the video, it is one of my favourite pieces of media I have ever seen.

Lyrics here. As the song starts off, it already feels like the listener is dropped inside a weird, intense primal world. I love percussion-heavy music and when I first heard it, the use of tom-toms and alienating, hardly recognisable sounds already reminded me of one of my other favourite artist’s best-know song: Björk’s Human Behaviour. I can’t really explain it if you don’t hear it, but both have this hypnotic, primal quality that beckons you in right off the bat. Then Thom’s mournful voice sings: “In pitch dark/ I go walking in your landscape/ Broken branches/ Trip me as I speak”. Not to go all A-Level English on his ass because let’s be honest, Thom’s lyrics are often nonsensical and vague, but I love this verse so much. It goes perfectly with the instrumental, starting off in a way that is like the start of a story; the words painting you a picture that is both dreamlike and frightening. To me, it describes falling in love in a way: “I am walking in your world, and I don’t know the way, and it’s all new and confusing and dark and sometimes I say the wrong things but I am still exploring, and it’s beautiful”

After this start that frankly hits you in the chest like a basketball in year 9 PE, we are treated to a combo attack with the lines “Just 'cause you feel it/ Doesn't mean it's there”. In classic Radiohead fashion, all the perceived optimism from the first verse is denied from us, basically saying “just because you feel a connection, it doesn’t mean it’s real”. Trust issues central. But it can also be interpreted to mean emotions in general, which is usually how I (a very emotional person) interpret it: feelings technically aren’t real. And the way you perceive the world while you are Going Through It™ is not always correct. No, everyone doesn’t hate you because their world isn’t centred around you: stop obsessing. It���s okay. There, there. (This is also reinforced later on with “someone on your shoulder”, basically saying it’s just your brain playing tricks.) Additionally, some think it’s referring to a dream, which would fit thematically with the music video.

The next verse to me is about the temptation of a bad decision while Going Through It™. Yes, it would be very easy to do the wrong thing, to go off this path that is making it really hard to get up in the morning: but it would also ruin you. I also interpret “don’t reach out” as coming from the siren (i.e. surprise, surprise: depression) – it wants you to self-destruct, to be a “walking disaster” but that, however tempting, is the wrong thing to do. The use of “we” also works with the “someone on your shoulder” line, and to me (however cringy that sounds) it means that music will always be there for me and help me work things out. It can also be applied to the relationship angle: the couple are in the same boat (/ship), and if one of them does something self-destructive, it will affect both. Both of these options work with the “Why so green and lonely? (…) Heaven sent you to me” lines. It’s interesting because the religious interpretation on Genius always annoyed me – Radiohead are the least religious band ever! This is the only religious reference I can think of from the top of my head, minus “angel” in Creep – but because it’s so rare, maybe it has a reason to be here? Maybe it IS about God after all, but I don’t really think so. Also, to me the imagery of “green and lonely” and the nautical “siren” and “shipwreck” have a much bigger weight visually than “heaven”, so they negate the religiousness in my eyes. I think it’s about two broken people finding each other, but also finding it hard to figure out how to fit together. They’re thinking that it might be a lost cause and destruction is right around the corner, but the best they can do (is good enough) is try and be there for each other while they head towards their ultimate end. Very comforting in a twisted way, which is Radiohead’s specialty.

So, let’s talk about the VIDEO!!! I’m writing this after an HQ version was FINALLY released on their website, so I’m going to use screenshots of that because oh my god, it’s beautiful. 

We start off with the “pitch-dark landscape”, more-or-less just as I imagined it while listening to the song. Although it is kind of drab and boring at the start, this only emphasises the magical quality of what it becomes later, as our protagonist Thom (I’m going to call him by name but I’m obviously referring to the character, not the real person) heads deeper and deeper inside. Oh, how I love forests in the dark. Nothing else has the same perfect ambiance.

Thom is walking in a way that matches the rhythm and the dreamlike atmosphere of the song, i.e. somewhere between an alien who just learned the way the Earthlings walk and the exaggerated, slightly sped-up movements of a silent movie star. We already know he has an affinity towards both bowler hats (Lotus Flower video) and pantomime-like acting (ANIMA) so this is truly on brand. He then sees dark clouds pass at a breakneck pace (again, the dreaminess of it all... chef’s kiss), then confused and lost, heads back into the forest which this time looks a lot less boring and “real” then at the start. The dark clouds can be interpreted as a warning of things to come (“stay out, not safe”), which he ignores or just a sign that something is off and we’re not in Kansas anymore.

So as he turns back, we’re treated to my first Favourite Moment: Thom finding the beckoning yellow light and deciding to follow it. The way he is acting suggests both curiosity and sneakiness, like he suspects the thing emitting the light is much better than his original destination (if he had a destination at all). 

I love the way the light is illuminating his eyes here, it again reminds me very much of old movies (and Morticia Addams in the 90s movies, but probably because the filmmakers also took inspiration from the same well)

Oh my god, just look at this shot. Beautiful. Lothlórien who?? I only know magical glowy Radiohead forest. Because yes, we’ve obviously crossed the path between realms the minute Thom decided to pursue the yellow light (which can also be connected to the “siren singing you to shipwreck” in the lyrics). This is now the land of magic and fairy tales, and strange things are afoot. 

Again, I gotta stop analysing for a moment and just note that the amount of serotonin this gives me would fuel 10 people for a year. For anyone who doesn’t know me well enough, animals in little clothes living in little well-arranged dwellings inside a tree are in the top 5 things that make me happy, and combined with Thom Yorke Radiohead peeking in the window like an innocuous tourist… and the warm light illuminating the miniatures… perfection. Okay, moving on.

Thom is exploring this strange world of anthropomorphic animals like an awkward giant, without seemingly anyone noticing him. This adds to the alienation seeping from the music: this is a weird and wonderful place but you don’t belong here (sorry for the Creep reference, swear it was not intentional). He first saw a pair of squirrels, chilling in their house; then a big banquet; then a cat wedding (power of 3, the fairy-tale number). If we are going with the dream metaphor here, these might be alluding to things happening in real life, especially the wedding as he actively walks away from it, but this is just a speculation. Mostly it just shows that these animals are living in a happy little community and we love that for them! But it also make me feel like this is a coping mechanism for our protagonist here. Apparently Thom (the real one) got the idea for this video from a children’s TV show called Bagpuss: I had a look and it’s the tear-jerkingly comforting and nostalgic stop-motion series that everyone needs one of in their lives (I have several, both English and Hungarian). The subtitle “The Boney King of Nowhere” refers to a song in episode 2 about a king who wasn’t comfortable on his throne: according to this link, this resonated with Thom, who found himself on a pedestal he never wanted. (It’s kind of funny that a little kid’s song about a king’s bony ass has such a sick name though). He also wanted the original creator of the show (Oliver Postgate) to animate the video but he declined. Anyway, the "fifties East European genre animation, overlaboured and naïve” aesthetic, to me, symbolises comfort and warmth that our protagonist doesn’t feel at home in.

So off he goes, into the dark heart of the forest. Also, important to note the patch of fog that keeps showing him the way: is this the siren’s song physically manifested, pulling him away from the warmth of community? (”don’t reach out, don’t reach out”)

He then climbs up and sees a golden coat on a tree inside some kind of ancient ruin. This to me immediately brought to mind the Golden Fleece from Ancient Greek myth, which was the fleece of a magical ram that hung on an oak tree. It signified kingship, linking back to the subtitle. Thom sneaks to the tree, looks up at the ravens (7 of them: another fairy-tale number) and when he sees they are sleeping, tries on the coat. I found it interesting how at this point the coat looks quite ordinary, drab and brown – possibly a metaphor for a decision that you know is bad but you do it anyway; and by the time you realise it actually didn’t feel as good as you thought, it is too late - he listened to temptation (the sirens). He even takes the boots from inside the tree, which reminded me of SO many of the folktales that I grew up on: it’s not enough that the bad sibling did this one bad thing, they even did ANOTHER bad thing, which cements the listener in believing them to be irredeemable and worthy of the awful fate the tale has in store for them. The ravens (birds of death and in this case agents of justice) wake up – Thom has a little “oh shit” close-up and then start running for his life in his new attire.

Addition: another theory I found interesting among the comments is that this place is Limbo -  “

The gothic look of the ravens chasing Thom with the rising full moon is such a huge contrast to the warm, comforting glow of the stop-motion animal town, but it makes sense with the crescendo of the music and it’s dark and menacing cacophony: “we are accidents waiting to happen”. This was Thom’s mistake: and now there is no turning back. (Quick note: his running here reminds me once again of the Human Behaviour video – I am working on another similar essay that concentrates on how Radiohead and Björk are mirrors of each other so look out for that). 

He thinks he is saved for a moment by the magical seven-league boots (another folktale reference) but it is only a false hope. He gets his punishment and turns into a tree by what we can assume to be a painful and terrifying process (I love his facial expression so much). The ravens arrive and we realise that this is most likely how the previous tree met his or her fate. The cycle continues. He is now the Boney King of Nowhere.

One of my favourite mental images is people taken over by nature: not in a decomposing way but more like a Hanahaki disease way. Thom turning into a tree reminded me of a couple of things: one, my other favourite piece of entertainment Over the Garden Wall, which is very similar in tone to this video (if I ever meet Thom, I genuinely only want to ask him if he’s ever seen it and if yes what his thoughts are on it). SPOILERS for OTGW: the Beast turns lost children into trees and uses oil from the trees to keep his lantern alive, which is basically his life source – in this case the tree-person seems to be the living beating heart of the forest. The way the tree-curse is transmitted also reminded me of how the lantern was (nearly) passed down to Wirt. Basically, it is an inheritable burden. Two, and this isn’t my interpretation but I thought I’d mention it: Daphne & Apollo, wherein Daphne hides from Apollo’s sexual advances by turning into a tree. This doesn’t really fit the tone of the scene in my opinion, because Thom’s transformation is an involuntary punishment; but it kind of connects to the other reference to Greek myth, Odysseus and the sirens (both chasing after women, or the impossible dream). Three: Dante’s Inferno, in which the second ring of the seventh circle is the Wood of Suicides where “the souls of the people who attempted or committed suicide are transformed into gnarled, thorny trees and then fed upon by Harpies, hideous clawed birds with the faces of women; the trees are only permitted to speak when broken and bleeding”. Whomp whomp, it was a suicide metaphor :/ And it wasn’t a dream, it was Limbo - a thematic preoccupation of the band, so not impossible.

A comment I found relating to this: “After death you have to cross over. He got distracted by the nice and shiny shoes and jacket (don't reach out), hence the siren that leads you to shipwreck (Odysseus). When you want to enter the spiritual realm you have to be able to leave the material world behind or you shall not pass. He was distracted, got caught and changed into a worldly tree (he was still to attached to the material realm). The so-called reality we live now is the dream. (Just 'cause you feel it doesn't mean it's there). He remembered that he died and came back to this illusion. We are stuck in a lift....” I really like this interpretation of Thom’s downfall being too attached to materialism/ fame & fortune. I wonder what he meant by “came back to this illusion”? Also, who are the animals in this scenario: aspects of Thom’s life or other people, stuck in Limbo/ every-day oblivion?

This wouldn’t be the first or last time Radiohead explores the concept of death, so I don’t think it’s far-fetched. And it fits with the lyrics too, as I’ve discussed briefly above: this is what happens when you listen to the siren (the fog, the light) and stray away from the cute animal town, Thomas! I’m joking because it is kind of a bummer to end it on this, but I just love how dense and layered this video is. Most of their videos are top-notch but this one just hits a really sweet spot for me, so yeah! 2500 words! I’m glad you came along, pardner! Goodbye till next time!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 200: Mushroom Mushroom

Previously on BnHA: We flashed back to Tokoyami’s workplace experience and later internship with Hawks. During the former, Hawks was pretty much one step ahead of his sidekicks and poor Toko the entire time, and they were reduced to running around after him as his cleanup crew. A frustrated Tokoyami asked why he’d drafted him and Hawks said it was mostly because he wanted to talk to one of the 1-A kids about the USJ attack. This frustrated Toko, but he still chose to go back to Hawks’s agency during his For Reals Internship, and this time he showed off some new skills he had learned and Hawks was actually impressed. He revealed to Tokoyami that the other reason he’d initially drafted him was because he thought Toko was wasting his potential: “if you’ve got wings, you should stretch them out and fly.” Back in the present, Tokoyami revealed his new Black Fallen Angel technique, in which Dark Shadow basically carries him around in his arms while they fly around. He busted this move out to rescue Aoyama from Kuroiro’s clutches, but before they could capture Kuro, Kendou’s team switched to their plan B, and Toadette suddenly made a mushroom sprout from the tip of Momo’s nose. Okay.

Today on BnHA: Toadette sprouts a bunch of mushrooms everywhere and it’s deeply and profoundly unsettling and no one likes it and what the fuck is wrong with Horikoshi honestly. Anyway, apparently Kendou planned it so that even if Team A was able to counter Kuroiro with a “light” technique, they’d still end up revealing their location, and on top of that they’d weaken Dark Shadow too. Momo tried to gather her team to regroup, but before they could, Team B’s Manga struck with his incredibly badass quirk which allows him to create physical onomatopoeia. Like, this dude creates a wall of giant letters by shouting something to the effect of “BAM KERSLAM” and it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. Then he makes the air all humid by whispering the onomato for “muggy.” This causes Toadette’s mushrooms to grow even faster, which I hate so much. Anyway, so Momo is cut off from the rest of her team by the giant letters, and Kendou proceeds to attack, knowing she has the advantage in a physical one-on-one match. The rest of the chapter is just Shouto quietly hyping up Momo from the sidelines, which I think we can all appreciate. Go Momo.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 223, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

LOOK AT THIS ADORABLE COVER CELEBRATING 200 CHAPTERS OF THIS RUCKUS

though it’s interesting that they didn’t get a color page! but this seriously is adorable so it’s fine

(ETA: and they probably didn’t get a color page because this chapter is the shortest chapter in history lol. we’re lucky we got what we did.)

I’m trying to figure out if Katsuki is actually trying to smile but just doesn’t know how to do so on command. like, he’s baring his teeth, but it’s not quite as ferocious as usual, ya feel? I feel like he knows the mechanics of smiling on a theoretical level but has no idea which muscles to use, and so he just ended up like that and was all “fuck it that’s close enough.” if you really want him to smile you gotta earn it

meanwhile Shouto is just not making any kind of effort at all. I don’t think he was ready yet

and Iida is clearly the one taking the selfie so let’s take a moment and give him some props for getting as good of a shot as he did considering what he’s working with

this also feels like as good a place as any to stop for a sec and analyze the changes in Horikoshi’s art style over the past 200 chapters. overall it hasn’t changed all that much, but one thing I’ve noticed is that the characters’ faces used to be longer and more angular, particularly the chin area (especially the male characters), and nowadays they’re all a bit more rounded out. also their necks used to be longer. the overall effect is that they all look a bit younger and more adorable. characters like Ochako have barely changed at all, but the difference is much more apparent in characters like Todoroki and Shinsou and even Deku himself

anyways, just wanted to make a note of that, since it’s something that’s been in the back of my mind since Shinsou’s reappearance. now back to our regularly scheduled chapter!

so yeah, mushrooms

something about this is so powerfully and viscerally unsettling. do I have mycophobia??

ffffffff oh my godddddd

or maybe it’s just the ol’ trypophobia acting up. ffffff I feel nauseous in a way I haven’t since fucking Moonfish’s teeth attacks. please don’t tell me the whole chapter is going to be like this, because I’m not kidding when I say that my stomach is doing flips in the bad kind of way

(ETA: yeah it’s definitely mycophobia. fungus creeps me out. this chapter is a fucking nightmare for me honestly. the weird thing is mushrooms are actually delicious. I don’t mind eating them, I just don’t want to look at them or acknowledge them ever basically I guess. anyway. back to this ordeal.)

this is a fucking nightmare quirk. this is up there with Centipeder. if I had this quirk I’d be knocking on AFO’s door all “take it, buddy. go ahead and sign me up for your evil army, whatever. just fucking take it dude”

also just a reminder that her name is actually Toadette. it just is

you know it’s bad when I agree with every word that Mineta is saying

RIGHT?!

fucking Awase trying to play it off like it’s not so bad. even though she has a bad habit of “spamming” them “everywhere.” holy shit. at this rate I’m going to have to cancel the entire class B. you’re all fucking contaminated jesus christ

(ETA: and looking more closely at Awase’s face, you can tell that he’s secretly traumatized and has Seen Some Shit and he’s trying to play it cool here but buddy we know. it’s okay. you’re among friends here.)

so now Kuro is hiding inside one of the mushrooms

didn’t you already try this plan. didn’t you literally just try this and it failed

also wouldn’t Dark Shadow notice that some guy was hiding inside of him? I feel like he’d notice that. no?

so apparently this was Kendou’s plan. she’s counting on A Team not realizing that B Team can take control of Dark Shadow

so they can do that then? then why didn’t they do that earlier when Kuro hitched a ride on Dark Shadow back to their group??

(ETA: lol exactly how long did it take me to realize this was a flashback)

ah, okay, so that was part of the plan. hold up, let me just shut up and read this whole thing before I cast any further judgement

...well that tells me absolutely nothing. okay so they thought that would work, but just in case it didn’t, they had a plan B also which we’re about to see take effect now. okay then so let’s see it!

so meanwhile Momo is telling her team to stay calm and that they need to regroup

and now there’s a lot of noise coming from deeper within the training ground

what the hell is happening here. this almost sounds like it’s purposely meant to be a distraction

now something is zooming down the corridor too fast to be seen

(ETA: lol those were the letters)

OH SHIT!!

IS THIS MANGA’S POWER?? HOLY SHIT!?

and if it is, then why are they surprised? surely the first fucking thing they would have done upon seeing Manga would be to ask what the hell their quirk is. like, if I personally saw someone walking around with a speech bubble in place of a head, I wouldn’t be able to fucking sleep at night until I knew. it’s just one of those things. you gotta know

we have a new Best Quirk ladies and gentlemen. sorry, whoever it was that had the previous best quirk. you had a good run

(ETA: so I just got done answering an ask about the class B quirks and I gotta say, Horikoshi really outdid himself with most of them, they’re amazing.)

can he only materialize katakana or can he do hiragana, kanji, roman alphabet, etc.? inquiring minds want to know

(ETA: I bet you he can do all of them. Manga ilu)

also class B has several people with no actual heads or faces and I’m very curious as to how they see, hear, etc. he doesn’t have eyes, people!!

but I still love him though

wow his letters are so sturdy that Aoyama’s laser can’t even scratch them. holy shit. you know two paragraphs ago when I was all “best quirk” but like jokingly? well now I’m thinking real seriously on it, let me tell you though

okay what

okay now I’m pretty fucking sure this is in fact the strongest quirk of all time!?

lmao Satou is wondering the same thing as me about Manga’s powers. “how would those onomatopoeia work in foreign countries?”

(ETA: Viz’s translator Caleb Cook took this to be Horikoshi’s way of saying “lol sorry in advance for this bruh” which I find hilarious.)

and Sero’s all “I DUNNO JUST BE QUIET AND WATCH.” Sero I feel personally attacked

oh shit it looks like Manga’s wall cut Momo off from the rest of her squad

well you know what, if Horikoshi had to make them lose for plot reasons, then this is about as good of a job as he could have done. you know that if Momo had remained with the rest of her team they would have pulled out a victory. Kendou knew that cutting her off from the others was key

OHHHHHHHHH SNAP

YESSSSSSS BRING ME MY BADASS LADY BATTLE

damn Kendou’s attack was so powerful that the impact still hit Momo even with the shield up

whoa, had we seriously not gotten one of these for Kendou before? even with everything she did during the Fanfic Lodge arc?

I love that she was smart enough to know that she wasn’t smart enough to best Momo. like, that’s not a knock against her at all; according to the character book Momo has S-ranked intelligence, the highest you can get. she’s on a level matched only by the Rat Principal and fucking All for One (and All Might, but he’s S-ranked in everything and clearly that’s just because he’s All Might)

and for the record, Kendou herself has A-ranked intelligence, which is the same level as Mei and smarter even than Deku and his Big Hero Brain. so yeah -- she’s good

and I got a bit off track, but anyway I was just trying to say that I love that she knew she had to strategize so that she could battle on her own terms

she’s shouting that she won’t give Momo any time to think

and she’s diving in with some more attacks!

so now it’s Momo’s turn, though! this is how she lost to Tokoyami in the sports festival! he took advantage of the fact that she needed a moment for her quirk to activate, and also to think of a plan. this is a weakness Momo has to overcome if she’s going to keep moving forward

ooh, Todoroki is still quietly confident in her!

so now Tetsu’s looking at him in surprise

and now Momo’s thinking back to what Kendou said about Momo constantly outshining her

and she’s thinking that Kendou couldn’t be more wrong, that even now she’s still just a novice

yes!! show her, Momo!

LOOK HOW SUPPORTIVE HER BOYFRIEND IS

fuck me, I’m gonna have to figure out how to work Shouto into this polyamorous MomoJirouKami triangle thing. why does everyone in 1-A have so much respect and admiration for each other??

and especially for someone like Momo, who even now is still so hard on herself and lacks confidence, to have someone who has such absolute faith in her is so, so huge. and Shouto is just so fucking eager to tell the whole fucking world how much he believes in her and how she’s going to kick ass and just wait and see

YESSSSSSSSSSS

oh my god. I’m so fucking conflicted!! I want Momo to kick ass so bad. but I don’t want 1-A to just sweep all five battles. and I also want Kacchan’s team to win because he needs a fucking win! but if anyone else from 1-A wins leading up to his group, then I feel like he can’t because that would mean 1-A wins the whole thing then and there, and Deku’s group becomes just a formality at that point

also holy shit you guys, this chapter was only 10 fucking pages. and one of those was a (black and white) cover page. this has got to be the least amount of fanfare I’ve ever seen for this kind of milestone, particularly for a series at this level of popularity. damn

but I’m guessing Horikoshi just needs a break, which is fine. probably it’s either shorter chapters, or One Piece-style frequent weekly breaks, or else unfinished chapters like we get every so often. I generally think it’s good for the writer of the series to get to sleep more than three hours a night, so sure, you know what, do as many 10-page chapters as you like. I’ll be grateful for whatever lol

(ETA: apparently Horikoshi mentioned in an author’s comment back in December that he was moving. so that may well be why the chapters got really short for a while. the last half dozen or so have been a consistent 15 pages each, so hopefully we’re past that now and I can get my solid weekly fix for the next couple weeks until we hit Golden Week and WSJ goes on break and I fall into withdrawals and have to compensate by seeing Avengers: Endgame seven times sob.)