#and the stuff I do understand and could delegate is stuff You Don’t Know How To Do

[taardisblue]

.

[jiliansky-blog]

I will find my way back to you. Chapter 7. The key and the Hell.

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 1770

You need to calm down your own jealousy because he had other problems on his hands. And you didn’t want to trouble him with knowledge of Fates words as well. And then you didn't even have a chance to talk.

Everything started the next night. When you were talking about the way to gain immortality, Morpheus thought it was impossible. And then you were interrupted.

“My lord,” said Lucienne. “There are a lot of delegations.”

“What delegations?” he asked.

“Fairies and gods,” she replied.

“What is going on?” you asked.

“I have a feeling that they came because of the key,” Morpheus sighed. “Now everyone wants it for themselves.”

“Oh god,” you sighed. “Now you have full hands.”

“I suspect that was Lucifer’s purpose from the beginning,” he said. “You should stay there while I talk to them.”

“What? Again?” you asked.

“It’s not safe for you,” Morpheus said. “No one of them is mortal. And all of them can have their plane for you.”

“But they don’t even know who you are,” you said.

“Your presence here is enough,” he replied. “They can think you are important to me. And then I can use you as a pawn.”

“And am I?” you asked.

“What?” he asked, looking at me.

“Important for you?” you smiled.

“Perhaps,” he smirked. “And I would like you to stay safe. Don’t mess with things or powers you don’t understand.”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer. He just went away and left you in the library. Sometimes you want to kick him hard.

“Is he always like that?” you asked Lucienne.

“Almost,” she replied. “Why didn’t you tell me about Fates?”

“I didn’t want to worry him,” you said. “And now he didn’t have time for this.”

“Yes, that was very unexpected,” she said.

Actually, you were a little bit worried that he would stop loving you after all of this stuff. Or he won’t let you come here while there are a lot of other creatures.

When you poked at the library, you could take a glance. You see, someone is there. In the corridors. A blonde man with pointy ears. He looked at you with curiosity. How did he know you were here?

“What’s wrong?” asked Lucienne, when you returned to the library.

“I think one fairy saw me,” you said. “Shouldn’t they all be in the throne room, discussing some matter with Morpheus?”

“They should,” she frowns. “Perhaps, he was snooping around. You better not go outside anytime soon. Just in case.”

You sighed with annoyance. But perhaps she was right. You didn’t know what to expect from Morpheus’s guest. Also, you wanted to go to his bedroom, but now you can’t. You thought he could go there after the meeting if he was too tired.

“Don’t worry.” Lucienne seemed to read your mind. “He will come here. He can sense your presence even now.”

“I see,” you replied.

The waiting was too long. You thought that you were going to wake up, waiting for Morpheus. And finally, he came.

“Hey?” you smiled at him. “How was the meeting?”

“Long,” he said. “There came more than fairies and gods. Angels, demons, and other representatives from other realms.”

“What are you going to do now?” you asked.

“I need to think to whom I am going to give the key,” he said. “And not to think about what it can cause in the future.”

“And are they going to stay here?” you asked.

“Yes,” he nodded. “This night. So you better wake up. See later.”

He kissed the top of your head, and you woke up. Why has everything suddenly became so difficult with this key?

Morpheus

I had trouble with the key matter. But I couldn't notice that Y\N was troubled by something else as well. I could take a look at her mind, but I didn’t want to. I was sure she would tell me when she had to. Furthermore, I have enough worries for now.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” asked Lucienne when Y\N was gone.

“For now,” I replied. “I hope anyone from our guests will cause any trouble. I wouldn’t want to take measures.”

“Y\N said that one of the fairies was in the corridors,” he said.

“Did he see her?” I frowned.

“I suppose yes,” she nodded. “But she hid after that.”

“Did she get in any trouble?” I asked.

“Not that I know,” she replied.

“I see,” I said. “Thank you for telling me.”

At least a little bit clearer, her strange behavior. And also, did she really think that I forgot her as fast as I returned from Hell?

“She is very determined, isn’t she?” asked Lucienne.

“She is,” I smiled softly.

She wanted to say something else, but changed her mind. She just sighed and returned to work. On the next day, some representatives wanted to change my mind. And demons had other offers. They brought Nada.

“Give us the key, and we will return the soul you wanted,” said Azazel.

“What about you? Let Nada go, and I will think about your offer.” I asked, annoyed by this blackmailing. They forget where they are.

“We can eat her, and we can eat you two!” they said.

I almost laughed. They dare to play and threaten me in my own realm. I let him think that he won and then caught in a trap, saving Nada’s soul.

“You forget that you are in my world,” I said, looking at the bottle. “I control everything here. You can do me harm here.”

“We have your girl!” said the other demon.

“Not anymore,” I said. “Now leave.”

Then fairies came to ask me a second time. They brought a girl with them.

“We can leave Nuala to serve,” said the blond fairy. “Or bring you something else that you desire, if you give us the key.”

“I don’t need anyone to serve or anything else from you,” I said. If I let this fairy girl stay here, Y\N wouldn’t understand.

“And what about the girl?” asked Cluracane, that blonde fairy.

“What girl?” I narrowed my eyes.

“That I saw in your palace,” he said. “I suppose she is a human.”

“She is merely a dreamer who wondered about my castle by chance,” I said. I wouldn’t give him the chance to mess with her.

“I see,” he smirked. “So I will wait for your answer.”

After that, I made the decision to give the key to angels. They should take care of hell. God created it, so it is going to be his worry now.

Then I came to the room where I left Nada. She looked tired and lost. But when she saw me, anger and betrayal flamed in her eyes.

“So you take me to your kingdom eventually,” she said, displeased.

“Only to free you from Hell,” I said. “I was wrong. I am sorry.”

“Is that the only thing you want to say?” she said. “I am sorry. You damned me to death and ten thousand years in Hell.”

And suddenly, she slapped me. At that moment, the door opened, and I saw Y\N, who stared at us with confusion. And then her expression grew cold.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

“Y\N, that is Nada,” I said. “The woman I told you about.”

“The woman who was in Hell,” she said.

“The woman whom he condemned to Hell,” Nada said.

“I’m sorry, I just want to know something,” Y\n replied. “If you knew that the relationship between mortals and the Endless was forbidden, why did you come here back then?

“I didn’t know he was Endless,” she frowned.

“Oh, so you found your way in, to a different realm,” Y\n continued. “The way is not just falling asleep, and who did you expect to see? Human?”

“How could I know?” she hissed. “I thought, maybe a prince from another dimension.”

“I think you didn’t think at all,” Y\n said. “You were acting on a whim.”

“And what about you?” she asked. “Who are you?”

“She is my partner,” I said.

“Another mortal?” she almost screamed. “Are you insane, girl? Do you know what follows? How dare you blame me?”

“We didn’t do anything to destroy my world,” Y\n replied calmly. “And actually, I love him strong enough to look for a way to break this rule.”

“I…” Nada was lost for worlds. “I need to rest.”

“Of course, you can stay here.” I left and took Y\n with me to the other room. I was shocked by the entire conversation. Furthermore, I didn’t expect Y\n to attack her.

“Oh, she can stay in your room now?” Y\n asked.

“She was confused and tired,” I said. “I didn’t expect you to attack her. You were wrong. It was my fault; what happened to her?”

“Yes, it was, but she is not an angel,” she said. “She could know what or who she finds in another dimension. Her actions are strange. I’m sorry, but she didn’t care for you.”

I felt hurt and betrayed again. And I didn’t want to dwell on it.

“You didn’t know what you could do after what you said,” I said. “The love confession is a death sentence in my mouth.”

“Or nothing,” she said. “I would feel if something happened. Listen, I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t argue with her. I just…I’m afraid to lose you.”

I sighed too. Likewise, I didn’t want to hurt her, but it was pleasant to know that at least someone was afraid to lose me.

“If you want, I will make you another room.” I smiled.

“No, I don’t want another room,” she smirked. “I want you.”

“Are you alright, though?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “You?”

“It’s over,” I said. “I gave away the key. Now everyone shall leave my palace before tomorrow. So I wouldn’t recommend you walk through corridors.”

“No one saw me,” she said, hugging me. “And I missed you. You were so busy these days, I hardly talk to you.”

“I missed you too,” I kissed the top of her head. “I just try to keep you safe. I don’t know what others can do. Especially when Cluracane has seen you.”

“Is that a fairy?” she asked carefully.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I know that he saw you. And he was interested in you. That is why I need to be careful for me.”

“Alright,” she smiled and kissed my cheek. “But please, can you stay with me?”

“Very well, if you will be an obedient girl,” I smiled. “And you won’t try to get into more trouble.”

“I promise,” she smiled, and I kissed her. I almost forgot how to be loved.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda

[wandering-words]

17 & avanine !!

17 - fixing the other persons clothes absentmindedly or like tucking their hair behind their ear U KNOW WHAT I MEAN THAT SOFT STUFF

I got this prompt twice but I loved getting the opportunity to do more with it :)

~~~

Janine was going on a date with Maurice, and Ava rolled her eyes at the prospect.

She’d overheard Janine’s conversation with Gregory about how she was talking to Maurice, a friend of his apparently, and watched as Gregory’s already wide eyes widened more in surprise.

Now they’d been going out for a little bit, and Ava still didn’t really understand why.

From the short description Gregory gave of Maurice, and from the many mindless entrances he’s had to make through Ava’s office to get a visitor’s sticker, Ava realized that he was nothing more than a slightly smarter, slightly more considerate Tariq.

It made Ava’s stomach roil uncomfortably with a feeling she was unwilling to unpack.

She didn’t really care, she had better things to think about, but it didn’t make sense that Janine would go after someone who was so much like Tariq when Janine broke up with him in the first place.

The rest of the school day passed in a daze as far as staff interactions went. Ava’s assistant fielded calls all day (because Ava already hosted a staff meeting and wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone else) and Ava hunched over stacks of paperwork from the district she’d been meticulously working through ever since her job scare at the school board meeting, realizing that she’d have to stay late in her office again.

It wasn’t a bother, really. Iggy was busy playing at one of his basketball games in LA and Ava was willing to commit herself to reading the paperwork necessary to become a better principal. The budget had been extra tight this year, and she was reviewing the breakdown so that Barbara and she could come up with strategies in the morning to delegate the money where it was the most necessary.

Her late night reading was interrupted by shuffling at her office door. Ava looked up through her sweeping glass windows, half expecting to see Mr. Johnson giving her a disapproving look like he usually did the few nights she stayed this late.

Mr. Johnson would look at her with his narrowed brows and that thin frown just a bit deeper on his face.

“Don’t you have places to be?” He asked one night, and Ava rolled her eyes.

“I work here.”

He clucked his tongue. “So you’re bored and your social life is trash.”

If it were anyone else, she’d be insulted at the way he tried to usher her out of her own office through insults, but she knew that he minded his business and let her mind hers, only annoyed that Ava wasn’t letting him have Abbott at night as his quiet sanctuary.

Tonight, instead of seeing Mr. Johnson reminding her how late she was staying, she saw a disgruntled Janine getting up off the floor. She’d clearly fallen, and Ava watched as she bashfully brushed a few stray curls from her face and smoothed down her red skirt, also brushing invisible dust particles off of her slightly wrinkled white button up.

Ava looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, and Janine averted her eyes, looking down at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

“Janine? What are you doing here?” Ava asked as Janine opened her glass door. (Why Janine was coming in or was still at school was beyond her.)

“Um… I’m preparing for my date. I’m going out with a guy named Maurice. He’s… a friend. Of Gregory’s.” With every word her voice went from a confident tone—though wavering with every word—to practically silent.

She was a bit disheveled from her fall, and Ava could see that Janine’s posture was rigid, the woman standing straight as a soldier with her shoulders tense as a bowstring.

Ava found herself itching to care for the shorter woman, and she realized that nothing was stopping her. No one was there to see them (Mr. Johnson had begrudgingly tossed her the keys and told her to lock up, properly this time) and even if Janine said anything about Ava’s care, no one would believe her.

“Let me smooth everything out for you,” Ava said, and she watched Janine’s eyes grow wider as Ava drew closer to her, Ava’s shadow growing until it enveloped her like a dark blanket.

Ava touched Janine’s shoulder lightly, and Janine’s brown-eyed gaze was curious, imploring as Ava smoothed out the wrinkles on Janine’s white blouse. She felt a shiver go through the shorter woman at the heated touch of Ava’s fingers through the skin of Janine’s blouse.

Then her hands moved from Janine’s shoulders. (It took everything in Ava to ignore the small, disappointed noise Janine made at the loss of contact.) Ava noticed that Janine’s curly hair was still in a slight disarray from her fall, and Ava reached up to tuck a few curls behind Janine’s ear, watching as Janine closed her eyes when feeling the warmth of her touch, absorbing it, savoring it, keeping it close to her chest as if she wasn’t sure when she would be touched again.

Ava found her hands moving from Janine’s curly hair to her cheeks, cupping her face and gazing imploringly into Janine’s now open, wide eyes, searching for something she didn’t know she was looking for.

Janine nuzzled her face into Ava’s hands, and that was the touch to bring Ava back out of the Janine-induced haze she’d been lulled under. She pulled her hands away quickly, as if Janine’s face had heated up to an unbearable temperature, and she pushed down the lump that arose in her throat when Janine’s mouth twisted into a hurt line.

“Thanks.”

Janine’s voice was barely a whisper, the two of them still recovering from the surprising intimacy of the moment before.

“Yeah.”

That’s all Ava could say without spilling some embarrassing thought about the shorter woman that had been shoved to the back of her mind for a reason.

You deserve better than Maurice.

I’m better than Maurice.

Choose me.

[emmashouldbewriting]

KP office is a mess, and W as the boss: or is too happy with their job or he simply doesn’t care or know what they write, post, tweet, etc., and both are completely a terrible look for him, if it’s the first one, then he doesn’t know what quality is and that’s a problem that will be reflected in all their job and that’s why they believe everything they do it’s on point and ‘nice’, and if it’s the second, then if he doesn’t care for basic things on his job (which is a really important job), imagine how he can be in other aspects (not saying he is a mess on other aspects, but that’s what they will project if they don’t start putting the office and their job in order)

I mean, it was completely unnecessary his tweet welcoming Jacinda to Earthshot, they did a ‘celebration’ as if were the best news ever, but then as FA president, nothing. But he doesn’t understand that it’s actually the FA president role which matters more in the long run, Earthshot will end in 7 years and that it’s part from W’s projects (sure , it benefits the monarchy, but it’s more benefitial as an individuality, to William’s CV, to his own legacy), and the FA role as a ‘royal patronage’ well, will benefit the monarchy (and how their support helped with this or that) and it’s just simple to go and see a match or tweet something (and not only to men’s matches), the Queen was very thoughtful to give him patronages of things he loves in order he can feel better in his royal skin, but if he is unable to do the basics for things he ‘loves’, then I’m not surprise why he doesn’t want to go and unveil plaques and plant trees, he basically is doing only things he likes, but even with that, failing to do it right.

They need a real ‘wake up’ call, and a massive one. I hate the press, but perhaps they can help a little. But again, sometimes they don’t give a damn and even if the press start calling them ‘lazy’ again or ‘not having order in their office’, they will believe it’s the press causing trouble and that they aren’t lazy nor having a mess in the office (😅 William is a stubborn and he will believe he is right)

I will say that as far as social media, it is easy to become complacent as an employer. I recently parted ways with my assistant (amicably I should say) and I had absolutely just left it to her bc I hate scheduling posts, and when I went in to my FB page I realised how disengaged I'd been and worked to improve it, and my reach went up 1500% in two weeks. I'm not sure I'd ever hire anyone to do it again, even if I am a bit flaky at the scheduling. So I do understand how it can fall behind, but then I'm a one-woman show at its core. They have the royal corporation that is the BRF behind them, they have a head of staff who can delegate jobs--they could and should be doing better, so I think they just don't fucking care, honestly.

And you're right. The unpopular opinion here is that William has been babied just as much as Harry was - given all the things he wanted, stuff that aligned with his interests, with things he's passionate about. And really, I get that. You want someone who's passionate about it, but he really does do the bare minimum.

They're surrounded by yes men, and it's a big problem. Even your yes men should be able to say no sometimes.

[erithel]

So I know you’ve talked about this before but…who on the Voltron staff thought it was a good idea to make Keith the leader, like they really make it seem he just “has to” because it was meant to be or something. But if you look at his actions during the seasons, uh…no. He’s a terrible pick.

I know why the writers did it, because it happened in the original. And I DO think this could have worked and have become a good character arc for him, having to stop all his reckless actions and think of what it meant for the others on the team instead of just the endgame. For a character as reckless and self sacrificing as Keith that’s a good character arc!

It’s just that…well the writers actually forgot to write the whole character arc. From point A to point B

It’s like one of the writers were like “Ok so Keith needs to become a good leader worthy of leading Voltron! How do we do this without putting too much thought and time into it?” And another writer was just like “just send him off to a weird space creature for a big chunk of time, everyone knows isolation in the middle of no where in the literal void of space does great for the human mind.”

I also just don’t understand why Shiro thought Keith would be a good leader, he’s seen all the reckless shit he does and still thinks that’s“leader worthy” material.

haha yes I have talked about this (most likely) several times before, so I won't get into it too much here.

I think they just wrote themselves into a bit of a problem with Keith becoming the leader. I don't know much about the other Voltron shows, but I believe he was the leader in them – or at the very least, in the original 80's Voltron. So of course the plan from the beginning was to eventually have Keith become the leader in VLD.

And I 100% feel that Shiro only said that to put the idea in viewer's heads, because you're absolutely right. There was no real basis for it, and I feel it actually devalues their relationship because it makes it seem as though Shiro didn't know Keith at all.

The issue comes from Keith's actual characterization, and the fact that he would have been much better suited for a different role – his original role in the Red Lion.

In life and in theory, you do want leaders who are able/willing to pitch in. You want leaders who are there with you on the front lines, and who have your back. I mean, I'm sure we've all had managers or superiors in the work place who just hang out in their offices and don't do anything. Nobody wants that.

But you also don't want a leader who feels that they have to do everything by themselves. And that's the kind of person Keith was, especially in the early seasons.

He was the one who would make the sacrifice play instead of trusting someone else to handle things. He was the one who would most likely work himself into pure exhaustion instead of delegating or even dreaming of asking someone else to do something that he felt he could/should handle on his own.

Keith's arc – growing from the reckless kid who only knew how to look out for himself, into a strong, calm leader who trusted his team – would have been, like, a Zuko level arc. But unfortunately stuff like that takes away from the action (siiiiigh), which often seems to take precedent.

[theunwillingassistant]

Warning [THE CHAIR, PART NINE]

Sam hadn’t gone to bed just yet. Considering his Boss was still up, it was normal for him to stay awake, just in case. He was getting pretty sleepy though, and it was with half closed eyes that he tried to focus on the papers in front of him. With Lufroz being unavailable, he had to take a part of the work to relieve the Spider a little. It was boring paperwork, mostly, that didn’t exactly help him to stay awake.

Ever since Lufroz (reluctantly) joined the Obsidian branch, most of the boring tasks had been delegated to him. It had brought some fresh air to Morgan and his right hand man, who could focus on more interesting parts of their job. Now, though… Sam’s head was full of finance stuff, meetings, organization notes… 

As far as he knew, Morgan hadn’t left his office. Sam’s was a floor above, still underground nonetheless. The last floor was his Boss’s, where his office, playroom, and bedroom were, among other things. Morgan had an apartment, in one of the best neighborhoods there was, though he hardly went there anymore. He did have a tendency to overwork himself sometimes- and, in the end, there was no playroom in his apartment. 

Sam resisted the urge to yawn, and glanced at the clock on the wall: three AM. This late, already? And he had to wake up early… Oh, the night was going to be short, wasn’t it?

He sighed. Well, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Well, if he finished filling the paperwork soon, he might get a chance to sleep a little. The leather couch in the corner of his office was tempting him, beckoning him to come closer… Lie down a little… Maybe take a quick nap…

But he knew better. If Morgan caught him sleeping on the job, he knew that there would be consequences, especially with how busy they were. No, no, he had to finish his work.

And so, he kept going, doing his best to stay awake. He could feel his eyes closing, more and more at each minute. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate. At some point, he was pretty certain he was sleeping at his desk. 

It was only when the door of his office violently opened that Sam’s consciousness was pulled back to reality. He jumped in his seat, his tired eyes quickly focusing on the one person that had opened his door so brutally.

Morgan. And, the look on the latter’s face was not good. Not good at all.

-”Uh… Hm,” Sam tried to pull himself back together, but with a body that wanted nothing but to shut down, things were a bit more difficult: “Yes, Sir?”

-”Are you going to talk, or do I have to take the words out of your mouth?” was the first thing the Spider told him.

With how exhausted he was, Sam wasn’t really understanding what was going on. Had he made a mistake somewhere? At this hour? He had spent so long in his office, he wasn’t even sure what he could have messed up…

But his Boss’s eyes were enough for him to know that, yes, there must have been something. Yet, he couldn’t see it.

-”I’m sorry, Sir, but I don’t really see wh-”

-”So I’m taking the words out of your mouth, then,” the other concluded, crossing his arms with a clear frown on his face: “You might want to explain why I found my chair’s restraints loose.”

Oh.

Oh no.

This conversation was starting to feel like a cold shower, one that was definitely waking him up by the second. Oh, this was bad, very bad… It had been stupid of him to think Morgan wouldn’t notice. Of course he would.

-”I apologize, Sir,” he tried to defuse the situation before it got out of hand: “It was only so he could drink by himself, I tied him up again right after.”

The Spider lifted an eyebrow, visibly unimpressed by his attempt at justifying himself.

-”Oh, is that so,” the latter replied flatly: “Funny how you say that, because he smelled extremely good. You know, as if someone had let him out so he could use the bathroom, and take a shower.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit…

-”So,” his Boss continued, leaning into the threshold: “Wanna try that again?”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. He had been caught red-handed, and lying. None of which were good in his field of work, especially when working under the Spider’s orders. To say that he had fucked up would be an understatement, at this stage.

The best he could do was to come clean, and hope for the other to be in a forgiving mood…

-”... I’m sorry, Sir. I did let him out,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating faster.

-”And you did it because…?” the white haired man pressed him with a scornful expression.

-”I…” It wasn’t like there were many answers to that question, except none of them would satisfy his Boss: “I… Felt sorry for him.”

-”You felt sorry for him,” the other repeated, deadpan: “And despite our previous conversation, you decided to let him go. Am I getting this right?”

-”... Yes, Sir,” he lowered his head.

A heavy silence followed his words, which did nothing to reassure the thirty-six year old man. Dread was filling him, more and more as seconds passed. He waited for the other to explode, scream at him, throwing reproaches… But none of that happened.

Instead, Morgan kept staring at him calmly… And that alone was perhaps more frightening. Why was he so calm…?

-”Alright, then,” he straightened himself: “That’s all I wanted to know.”

Sam couldn’t help but widen his eyes. Wait… He wasn’t getting anything…? No punishment, no reprimand, nothing…? Something was wrong, it had to be. 

-”W-wait…” the older man lost his straight face for a moment, showing his confusion: “That’s… That’s all…?”

At his uncertainty, the other snorted:

-”What, you want me to punish you?”

The right hand man shook his head.

-”No, but…” 

Morgan’s smile widened in the most unsettling way.

-”You’ve already been punished.”

-”I… I have?”

-”Yes,” the white haired man nodded: “I can’t put you in my chair, since it’s occupied, but… I highly doubt Lufroz will want to talk to you for a while. Just saying.”

Before Sam could process the information, his Boss waved and left without another word. There, the older man sat, his eyes looking into space as he was forced to realize something awful.

He hadn’t been punished.

Lufroz had been. For the two of them.

[stillness-in-green]

Why Deku's ultimatum to Overhaul is bad and he should feel bad

This is a bit outside my normal character wheelhouse, but I really need to get a rant about it off my chest, so here goes:

The Deku and Overhaul scene in Chapter 316 is terrible. It is fucking terrible.

I took a whirl around Overhaul's tag up through when the leaks first started dropping, but didn't immediately see anyone talking about why it's so fucking terrible, only concerns about letting Overhaul see Eri (understandable, but baseless, I think), some empathy towards Overhaul's current state (totally warranted!), some snark about Deku being So Done with Overhaul (haha because who cares about Deku's stated goal of trying to understand villains, right?), and, worst of all, some cooing about how Deku was being so compassionate and noble by offering Overhaul that olive branch.

Deku was not being compassionate and noble there. Deku was being arrogant, small-minded, and so shockingly cruel that it leaves me speechless that anyone could think his stunted and hard-hearted "offer" reflects well on him.

Deku's entire motivation in this arc has been wrestling with the realization that he might have been able to avoid some of the desperate battles of his past if he'd understood more about the villains he fought. He thought of three very specific people--Stain, Muscular, and Overhaul--as he reflected, "Maybe it wouldn't have had to go that way if I'd understood them better." He then thought of Gentle Criminal and La Brava, people who he’d come to some understanding of, who he’d been able to soften the conclusion of his battle with by going along with Gentle's fiction downplaying what had happened between them. The whole line of thought was intended to contextualize his newfound desire to save Shigaraki.

It soon became apparent that Stain, Muscular and Overhaul were, in fact, encounters that he would be revisiting, as a chance to see how he'd grown since he faced them, and as a dry-run on reaching out to villains that would give him a chance to practice ways he might reach out to Shigaraki when the time comes.

Well, based on his performance so far, the idea that Deku might be able to reach Shigaraki is laughable.

Firstly, his tentative questions to Muscular were ill-timed, all wrong for the middle of a battle. Muscular laughed him off, and I don’t think there’s any version of that scenario in which he would have done otherwise. Muscular was a huge threat, gleefully violent, disinterested in conversation about his history. Obviously, right in the middle of a fight was no kind of time to try to figure out what made the man tick! But Deku didn’t get the luxury of choosing the circumstances of that encounter, so yes, that battle probably was unavoidable, certainly if Deku wanted to stop him from doing further damage. But the idea that because Deku couldn't reach him right then and there, it's impossible for Deku--or, indeed, for anyone--to reach him at all is fallacious. Not every person has to be able to like or understand every other person. If Deku couldn't reach Muscular, so what? That doesn't mean it's impossible that someone might. And that means an obligation to treat Muscular like a human being, to afford him human rights, to not stop trying to find a way to rehabilitate him, even as you safeguard other people against him.

Deku's battle with Muscular being unavoidable was not some great triumph, for all that the narrative used it as an opportunity to let him show off how far he’d come in mastering One For All. In the way that matters, the way that Deku himself is currently trying to better, he hasn't advanced at all. Imasuji Goto represented his first test in the lead-up to saving Shigaraki, and Deku failed it.

His next trial was Overhaul.* Here, again, was someone who Deku was explicitly trying to understand. So what was the one thing that was most key to understanding Overhaul's current motivation? What was the one thing that Overhaul was ranting about out loud, incessantly? And what did Deku conspicuously fail to ask about? Overhaul's relationship with Pops.

This was so easy. So obvious. And Deku didn’t even try. All he could think about in the moment he was faced with that broken man was the little girl that man hurt--all thoughts of trying to understand where the man himself was coming from went right out the window, flown away in an instant. Instead of asking about why Overhaul feels the way he does, he demanded that Overhaul feel the way Deku wanted. He was essentially holding the only person Overhaul cared about hostage for the remorse he wanted Overhaul to feel.

I'm not going to try to armchair diagnose Overhaul with mental conditions. I don't have the educational background, and I'm positive Horikoshi doesn't. But it seems pretty clear that asking Overhaul to feel guilt about Eri was asking for something that he might not be capable of feeling, at least not without years of therapy that he was plainly not getting in Tartarus. And if Overhaul is not capable of feeling that guilt, then what does denying Overhaul his meeting actually solve? Who does it help? It doesn’t help Eri. Doesn’t help the old man. It certainly doesn’t help Overhaul himself. The only person who gets any satisfaction out of demanding remorse from Overhaul is Deku. And even Deku didn’t look like he found it very satisfying!

Another failure. A meaninglessly cruel, petty failure. A failure that served only to hurt a man who was already a live wire of agony, to sentence an old man to a coma he might never wake from without Overhaul's expertise, and to deprive Eri of the only actual family she had left.

And look, Pops might very well not be the ideal guardian for Eri, and I'm not saying he should get to "keep" her just because of the blood connection, but it's not like he cheerfully handed her over to Overhaul and walked out the door! He turned to Overhaul because he trusted Overhaul, because he wanted someone to help Eri and thought that maybe Overhaul could. And when Overhaul's thoughts about Eri took a very dark turn, Pops first denied his request about using her to further his research and then, when Overhaul kept pushing it, chose Eri over the kid he personally took in from the streets by telling Overhaul that he needed to leave the Shie Hassaikai if he couldn't muster any more respect for human life than that.

But, you know, Eri is so cute with Aizawa and stuff. And Pops was a criminal. Probably. Maybe? I mean, he was yakuza, anyway, so he obviously must have been a criminal even if the police never actually arrested him. Apparently, this means it's okay to just leave him in a coma forever! Even though Overhaul absolutely has enough medical expertise that letting him talk to a neurologist about what he did to Pops might enable them to figure out how to wake Pops up even without Overhaul being able to use his quirk to undo the damage. Hell, Overhaul is also the person alive who has the best handle on how Eri's quirk works. He might even know what her accumulation condition is. Maybe a better thing to ransom his access to Pops with would be Overhaul telling Aizawa everything he knows about Eri's quirk so Aizawa can use the knowledge to help her get a better handle on it.

But no. Obviously undoing some small part of the concrete harm Overhaul did was less important than how Deku felt about that harm.

And there's more! Oh, is there ever. I called Deku arrogant before; let me circle back to that.

Deku said that if Chisaki would feel the way Deku wanted him to feel, then Deku would uphold the promise to let Overhaul see Pops. But where in hell did Deku get off making that claim? Deku is a student. He's not a pro. He has no authority, medical, legal, carceral or otherwise. He has no say in where Overhaul goes or who he's allowed to see.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? What kind of strings did Deku think he could pull that he could just casually make that claim without so much as going into a huddle with Hawks and Endeavor about it first? How inflated has this kid's sense of importance gotten that he made Overhaul that promise without even stopping to think about whether it was something he was in any position to ensure? It was such a bullshit ultimatum, not only because of how needlessly obstructive it was, but because it was so formless.

"If only you would feel a wish to apologize to Eri…" Okay, so what if Overhaul goes back to prison and, three days later, calls out to say, "Okay, I thought about it and I really feel like I want to apologize, now can I see Pops already?" Who gets to make that judgment call? Deku? Is he going to drop his faux-vigilante act and come visit Overhaul in prison just so he can squint at the man really hard to see if he's lying? Is Deku going to delegate the call to someone else? All Might? Hawks? A prison warden? A psychologist? Who? Who gets to be the one to say, "Okay, I think his remorse is genuine."

Then, once that call has been made, how many people have to arrange for Overhaul to be escorted out of prison and to whatever hospital Pops is in? Will Deku get to oversee that visit? Does he think he can overturn a warden declaring, "The scum doesn't deserve a visit, and the old man probably doesn't either," or a doctor protesting, "I'm not letting that man anywhere near my patient!"

The hell of it is, I think Deku could do all of that. He's got a close personal connection to All Might, who was basically a demi-god to this society for decades; he has the ear of the current top three heroes. Everyone is apparently convinced that the power to save this society rests solely in Deku's hands; I'm sure he could ask for anything he wanted. But the fact that that is the case suggests that this society is not even slightly turning away from its dependence on heroes dictating its morality. A hero having the sole right to dictate, out of hand, based on his personal feelings, the fate of people designated "villains" while the rest of society turns away is exactly what Shigaraki is angry about.

The only thing worse than Deku perpetuating the worst problems of hero society in an arc that's supposed to be about him finding a better way is that he didn’t even stop to think about it. It never even occurred to him that that was what he was doing. He thought that what he was asking of Chisaki was just and fair, and thus, he didn’t need to ask for any second opinions or permissions; he didn’t need to think about what would actually be feasible, about what was best for the people involved. He'd made his judgment call about a villain, and that's all there was to it. The villain could fall in line or--nothing. There isn't actually another choice. Hero's way or nothing

I hate it. I hate it. I don't care about whether Overhaul "deserves" to suffer; heroes making the cold decision that they will make him suffer is antithetical to everything a carceral system intended to rehabilitate prisoners stands for. And yes, Japan does at least claim on paper that the goal of incarceration in state hands is rehabilitation.

Restorative justice is superior to retributive justice. It's better for society and it's better for individuals. It is kinder, it is more compassionate. Retributive justice poisons people. It perpetuates suffering for no reason but moral grandstanding. Individuals are allowed to forgive or not forgive anyone they want, but a society should conduct itself with an eye to the long-term welfare of all of its people. That means that even the worst kinds of criminals still have human rights. It means not inflicting pain that serves no purpose.

I've gotten off-track here. Yes, I think that if Overhaul could feel regret about Eri, that would obviously be a positive development for his character. It'd hurt like hell, but it would be a hurt that indicated he was becoming a better person, a person who wanted to do more good, less ill, with his life and efforts. But you can't mandate that someone become a better person. No ultimatum handed down from on high is going to change Overhaul's heart. Telling someone, "I'll help you, but only if you only feel the way I want you to feel. Otherwise, you can just stay there and suffer," is not reaching out to help people who are suffering in the dark, which is, again, what Deku claimed he wanted to do, what he begged for Nagant's help in doing, the way he insisted to the vestiges that OFA should be used.

Deku writing people off because they don't conform to his expectations, because they can't be "good" the way he wants them to be, nor even "bad" in ways he can understand, is him failing to live up to his own expressed ideals. "I wish you'd feel bad about hurting people," wasn't enough to reach Muscular or Overhaul, and it damn well shouldn't be enough to reach Shigaraki.

Cruelty does not beget kindness. You cannot treat people with only callousness and severity, then condemn them for not taking the opportunity to grow. You have to give them opportunities to better themselves. For Overhaul, giving him an opportunity would be letting him help the man he wronged and then moving forward from there. Telling him to feel regret about Eri or else? That's doing nothing but sweeping his pain back under the rug.

---

*I have more or less exhausted my outrage over Lady Nagant in chats with friends, so I'll spare the rant on how disjointed, contradictory and ludicrous her turn was; the gist is "very, on all counts."

---

P.S. Anyone who says that Overhaul "has nothing left to live for" is being a level of ableist that defies description. Prosthetics exist. Assistive devices exist. Speech-to-text software exists. Overhaul is intelligent, driven and highly educated. Even if he never got prosthetics at all, there would still be things he could contribute to the world if he were motivated to do so. The better thing to do, though, would be to get the man some damn prosthetics, hook him up with the neurologist consulting on Pops' case, and let the two of them get on with the matter of waking up the old man.

P.P.S. Overhaul spent six months in solitary confinement. The United Nations considers solitary confinement exceeding 15 days to be a form of torture. Solitary confinement creates severe mental health issues and exacerbates existing ones. It frequently leads to a deadening of empathy, something Overhaul has in little enough amounts as it is. It is absurd to ask a man who's just come out of these conditions to "feel sorry for what you did to Eri," especially if you're planning to turn around and send him right back to solitary. Tartarus is inhuman, and the only reason more of the escapees aren't total wrecks like Overhaul is because Horikoshi clearly didn't bother to do the reading on the wide array of problems that those characters should be experiencing physically, mentally and socially.

[mshomestyle]

[MHA Multiple Charater x Reader] First day of Fall

I have no idea when fall is (one of the greatest sins I can commit as a cozy blog) or if it began already...I guess I could go check my calendar to find out.

MHS characters enjoying the first day of fall with you:

Reader’s gender isn’t specified.

(Izuku, Hawks, Bakugo, and Todoroki)

Izuku:

-Since he was a top hero, Izuku was rather busy most of the time.

-He was a good significant other, so he did make time for you whenever and as much as he could.

-On this particular day, you both met up (or went out if you work in the same agency) for lunch.

-You sat by a large window in this lovely little restaurant that had such a warm atmosphere. “I barely noticed that the leaves are changing color,” Izuku noted.

-You smiled at the sweet yet curious look on his face, giggling softly. “That’s because you need to take some time for yourself to just look around.”

-Izuku flushed up a bit at your insinuation, “Well...It’s true that I spend most of my time working,” he agreed, “I guess could delegate some of that to my sidekicks.” You nodded.

-”Mhmm! I always see autumn as the season for relaxation, just with how much cozy things are associated with it,” you spoke, “Why don’t we take the long way back and talk about the things we can do to relax more?”

-It warmed Izuku’s heart to hear you talk like this, especially since he knew you wanted him to have less stress in his life, “Sounds great!”

Hawks:

-Red, orange, yellow, brown-Just all of the warm colors really- made you absolutely crave the presence of your significant other.

-To just lie in bed cuddled with him as you drank a warm a drink, watching turning trees flow in the wind, as you spoke about anything and everything.

-You bit down on the end of your pen just thinking about it.

-”Oh, I know that look~.”

-You thought you were hallucinating at first, but even you didn’t have that good of an imagination. “K-K-Hawks,” you almost slipped up and called him by his real name. “I thought you were fighting a villain.”

-”Told you it wouldn’t take me long.” He easily strode over to where you were filling out what would be his paperwork behind his desk and kissed your forehead, sweetly. “But back to what naughty things you were thinking. Is that why you wanted to help me? So I’d be done quicker?” You felt heat rising to your cheeks.

-”It’s not like that!” you defended yourself, “Well...I did want to be out of here sooner, but I had something else in mind.” No use hiding your intentions.

-”And that would be?” You could tell by the look on his face that Keigo still assumed his original thought to be correct.

-”Hmph, you don’t deserve to know,” you pouted.

Bakugo:

-Pop-up Halloween stores were not uncommon, so it was something you made a note to check out when the season for it came.

-”Isn’t it a bit too early for Halloween?” Bakugo asked. You looked at him as the two of you were walking hand in hand down the sidewalk to your destination.

-”What do you mean too early? Don’t you feel that?” you asked.

-”Feel what?” he raised an eyebrow. You giggled softly.

-”Well, every time the season comes around, there’s just this sort of feeling you get-Not the weather changing-but rather sort of something that tells you it’s fall and that Halloween will be here soon,” you tried to explain yourself as best as you could. Bakugo shook his head, though.

-”The only thing I feel is cautious since a villain could come after us at any second,” he grumbled. You gave his hand a squeeze.

-”Just relax and don’t focus on that. Focus on all the nice stuff we’re going to get to do in the next few months, then you’ll understand,” you tried it that way. Bakugo looked at you a bit skeptically, but then he sighed. He loved you to the point of where he’d do and trust what you’d tell him.

-”Fine, let’s just focus on those things then,” he smiled slightly, a sight which caused you hug onto his arm lovingly.

Todoroki:

-Like many things, growing up Todoroki didn’t really get to enjoy fall activities.

-So, you were determined to teach him what was so good about the season.

-”Baking cinnamon and nutmeg based sweets are always better when you do it during autumn,” you explained to Todoroki, who was right next to you in the spice isle of a local grocery shop.

-”What are you going to bake?” he asked, staring as you picked up one of each aforementioned spice.

-”Hm, well maybe some cookies, and eventually I want to make a cake,” you noted smiling softly before turning to your partner, “We should get some pumpkins to carve as well while we’re here.”

-You always did love this season, but were never so determined to do as many fall activities as possible until you got with Todoroki and learned more about him.

-As a veteran in this type of thing, you felt as if it was your duty to show him as much as much as you could.

-”Will that be fun?” he asked causing you to giggle a bit.

-”Doing it with you will be the fun part!”

[mostly-mundane-atla]

How do you feel about the sexism in the Water Tribes? From my genuinely limited research, women were well regarded and “women’s work” was valued highly. Sorry if this sounds like I’m asking you to summarize social classes in your culture but I am curious about how you feel about this narrative choice ?

This is actually a really good question and something I've wanted to talk about for a while.

First off, when people talk about sexism existing in the Water Tribes as a whole, I don't know exactly where they're coming from. Neither Bato (just fine with Katara participating in a young men's coming of age ritual) or Hakoda (who is very proud of and knows he can rely on his daughter's martial skills) share any sexist views, and Katara's specific irritation at Sokka over his blatant sexism suggests it's more the exception than the rule. Yes, it was just the men that left, but there are a few things to consider there. First that most of the waterbenders taken away (at least in Hama's memory) were women, so there was likely some trauma around that. Also that breastfeeding tends to go on longer than most people are used to in Inuit/Inupiaq cultures (kids traditionally got potty trained waaaay before they stop nursing). When food options are limited and not available at industrialized speeds, there's not a whole lot of other ways to be sure small children are getting all the nutrients they need. So in that sense, it's a matter of practicality that mothers would stay behind. Babies make it hard to move the way armies need to move. I think there was also some expanded universe stuff explaining that the Southern and Northern Water Tribes did not agree on what a "woman's place" actually was.

But yes, your research would be right in that "women's work" was highly respected and valued by the Inuit and Inupiat. Not only that, but men were expected to know how to cook and sew as well (sometimes whaling crews were just men and would be out at see for a long time, you can't just delegate mending or meal prep to women who aren't there). Women were also known to fish and set traps, so it's not like men were the sole providers. Women's and men's work was less a strict divide between domestic/providing and more what could be done with a baby on your back/what could be done without a baby. It's not like they could just set the baby aside and pick it back up again, either. The safest and most convenient place for a baby was underneath its mother's clothes. Not only did this keep them warm and out of the wind, but by shifting the kid around (there's a belt holding them to the mom's body) they can nurse no problem. This is why you'll see babies' faces in womens hoods in old photos and sometimes even today.

Women's work, specifically sewing, also gave women experience in another important cultural aspect: tattooing. The traditional way was with a needle (originally made of bone, but later you'd also find steel ones) and bit of sinew sewing ink into the skin. These tattoos were important for a few reasons.

A girl's coming of age tattoos on her chin would indicate that she was old enough to consider marriage, with the ordeal of sitting through the tattooing being proof of her pain tolerence and thus ability to handle childbirth. Some other tattoos were entirely for beauty's sake, but nonetheless important to the cultural identity. Some were to protect the spirit from illness or possession or people who would do them harm. It was a very important skill women would work on their entire lives and served a very important spiritual purpose. Women had to be able to grow old to be able to serve this role.

And so to see sewing and cooking and healing being treated as a lesser position by Inuti/Inupiaq coded characters doesn't make any sense. Everyone needs clothes and food and help through ailments and if the people doing so happen to be caring for babies at the same time that's a lot of service they're doing to the community. In a climate that could kill you for standing around without any fur clothes, that's not something that would be shrugged off is just women's work. Not by people who survive only by everyone doing what they can to help and acknowledge everyone's contribution.

Also please understand that this explanation is only as cis as it is because heavy assimilation into a Eurocentric and Christianized world makes the sipiniq difficult to find reliable information on.

[tryingtimi]

From the prompts! ❝ would you just stop treating me like something you’re trying to fix?❞, ❝ you brought me along because i can do things you can’t handle. so just let me do my part then, yeah?❞, and ❝oh god, don’t look at me like that. i’d rather you just be angry than do the whole disappointed face.❞ ---- Not necessarily in the same drabble, but just so you have stuff to work with. GOD SPEED, HOMIE.

When He Snaps

LOVE YOU TO BITS! Thank you for the prompts! Since there are more, I'll do them in separate posts when I get them written. Prompts from this list.

WOULD YOU JUST STOP TREATING ME LIKE SOMETHING YOU'RE TRYING TO FIX? | DANE AND AUVA | ANGST | HURT/COMFORT | WC 1,125

Dane massaged his forehead, trying so hard to smooth out the wrinkles of worry. Windows blackened, eyes shut, he made sure to clear his head easily, but the bitter taste of failure towards the effort only nourished the soil of a growing headache. His skin burned where his fingers rubbed it back and forth. It might have helped him erase the waves from his face, the endlessly repeating scene in his mind, however, did not fade with it. The hologram figure sitting in the chair, back facing Dane, his every word loud and clear, while the other’s just stared at him in the meeting hall, sitting behind the large desk. He’ve planned this from the beginning.

He felt a wild yanking on his neck, when his tensed vein tightened even more from the faint sound of sliding doors.

The refined, quiet clicks of heels caused him to sigh. He did not change position, nor opened his eyes. The sounds of ghostly footsteps died out very soon, and Dane could feel her presence on the other end of the table. If others could walk into his office in the same casual way, he could still recognise her steps. And the silence that always followed.

“I’m not suitable for questions today.” Dane’s statement remained plain while his burning fingertips finally detached from his skin. He intertwined his fingers, and rested his forehead on them.

Auva haven’t picked up on the hint.

“You’re troubled. I assume the meeting did not go as you’ve expected.”

“It really isn’t the time, Auva,” Dane replied. He felt his fingers losing their colour as he squeezed them together. He needed all his strength to hold himself back before he’d snap at her.

The weight of the previous meeting buried him under frustration. He was not ready to talk to Auva. Darkness and depth, he was barely ready to get up from his chair without the urge to kick the thing out through the window.

“It needs to be. We don’t have too much anyway. You also need to calm down, here, I’ve ordered you that strange looking juice from the terranan market.”

A twitch of his eyes forced Dane to flutter them open. He slowly looked up at her, putting the liquid container onto his desk, then stepping back calmly. So blood-boilingly calmly.

“They just told me that I’ll be transfered up here. They also made sure I understand, this is not a suggestion. How exactly would you want me to calm down after that, hm?” He did not wait for answer, even though Auva opened her mouth to speak. “I am a goddamn delegate of people underneath, Auva! I know what happens there, I live there, I am one of them! The only thing that currently holds Terrana together is the fact that I am terranan. And they don’t even know about the real threat! So don’t tell me to calm down, when all the Council does is trying to keep everything favorable for themselves!”

She cocked her head.

“You should transfer here.”

Heavy silence conquered the dimly lit room. He needed a moment.

“What?”

“You should transfer here,“ repeated Auva, face undisturbed.

And with that, something snapped in Dane.

Unable to speak, he jumped up from his seat, ready to get out of the room immediately. However, the next violent step he took resulted in falling to the ground, hard. His headache spiked, but it didn’t even come close to the pain that surged through his body, starting from his left thigh.

Ah. That damned prosthetic. His weakly attached ankles needed to give up right at this moment!

Dane felt trembling bubbling up in his muscles. He pulled his right leg up to put his elbow onto it, then ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on each lock. He needed pain. Pain that he could make it go away, if he wanted to. Pain that he could control.

He saw from the side of his eyes as Auva walked a little closer, then came down to his level.

“A change of environment could help you go forward.”

Dane hissed as Mr.Astin’s voice echoed in his ears. People want to see that they can reach what you did, son. That’s gonna give them real hope, not some bacteria in a test tube. You’re gonna become a more competent man for them here, we’ll see to that, yes?

He looked at Auva and their eyes met. His words came out through clenched teeth.

“Would you just stop treating me like something you’re trying to fix?”

“Aren’t your kind always strives to be perfected?” A faint smile tugged at her lips, however, when Dane breathed in sharply instead of smiling, Auva’s face fall back to her default, unreadable state. She held his gaze. “No. I won’t. You’re human, which means we have doomed you, Dane, as much as we’ve doomed everyone else. I am here to fix the mistake we’ve made as long as it’s still reversible. This includes helping you. You wanted to get to know the Council members, so you can find their weaknesses and convince them. Transfering here can help you do that.”

Slowly, word by word, Dane’s tension eased up. It did not go away, no, it will never leave him completely. But reason finally found him again. She was right. His head cleared, and the heavy weight started to lift from his chest.

“Helping out and trying to fix someone isn’t the same. You confuse things again and make them easily misunderstandable,” he said eventually.

“I don’t see the difference, but if it bothers your sentimentality, then I will note not to use this wording again.”

Right. Auva was not what she seemed to be. In theory. Well, now that this realization struck Dane, he also noticed that ghost of a smile finding her lips again and something else that he could not grasp it fully. Relief – that was the closest term to describe what he saw on her face. Strange, this woman. Or, well, being.

“Why don’t you just ask what’s the difference? It wasn’t a problem before.” He straightened himself, still sitting on the floor. He looked over his ankle for a second; it was still twisted in an unnatural way, probably damaged by the fitting, while his thigh still throbbed with pain. He should detach it for now.

Auva followed his gaze, then knelt beside him, watching her skirt to stay in place. “You said you’re not suitable for questions today.” She reached for his mechanical leg and held it in her hands. Her fingers ran through the lines where the pieces were attached to each other, her eyes fixated it like a predator its prey. She was always hungry to understand everything.

[licuadora-nasir]

Hi! If ok for you,can i ask a scenario/hc for lance with a fairy s/o who controls nature (plants,tree's etc) and animals? Thank u!

Hello! Thank u for the ask! This is quite an interesting one, cause I don't know if some of you remember, but Valkyon once said that the fairies were rare to be seen.

So I made a little research, watched some videos aaaand made my own theory about why they're scarce.

Regarding the other asks I have queued:

- Lance x Male reader (TO)

- Drunk LIs fighting over who will marry Erika

- HC Nevra realizing his feelings toward Erika and finding she's with Lance

- Lance realizing his feelings toward Erika (TO)

I'm moving later this month, therefore this weekend I'm going to my new city to buy some things for my flat and leave some stuff there. But I'll have some free time, so I'll work on the first scenario of the list and probably have it ready for the next week.

Lance with a fairy s/o HC under the cut

Fairies are one of the most ancient creatures that have been lingering in Eldarya.

Long before the blue sacrifice took place, before the first races congregated into tribes and reigns, fairies tramped the world.

Pixies, Devas, Seelie courts and some more were the ones who strengthened the very first pillars of the land.

That was one of the reasons why Lance deeply respected those races.

Races that guided dragons, aengels and fenghuangs in their early steps.

So, when Lance got that Gardienne was a fairy... He sort of recognized her.

Faires had been extinguishing, and the remaining now lived hidden, out of sight of anyone who wanted to use them for their privilege.

Slaved, disavowed and accused by humans of stealing their babies, hunted by warlocks and necromancers to be used to cast powerful spells, fairies knew better than let the inhabitants of Eldarya learn about their whereabouts.

They had suffered as much as dragons just for being born as they were.

Lance was even curious about what sort of powers would she held; If she was to be the protector of some river or lake, a delegate of wildlife, maybe even control de flora and vegetation around her.

But being a fairy also meant... Being more sensitive to all the harm he provoked.

When he harmed a companion, it felt as the pain was her own. When the crystal was corrupted, she felt twice the desecration of both the land and the oracle.

And of course, there were more tension and grudge between them than there would be with other gardienne.

When she woke up, after seeing everything that was healed, that was healing... She had a hard time understanding why Lance was free to wander these lands when he once sought to destroy everything that bloomed and overflowed with life.

Although that confusion faded off soon. Gardienne tried to understand that new Lance; observing how careful he was with the wildfire, sometimes catching him engrossed in the landscape's beauty, noticing him mesmerized every time she displayed her powers.

Gardienne eventually offered him a real display of her abilities. In their free time, they would roam the forest, the pixie explaining in detail how she felt the energy travelling through the herbage, the wildfire talking to her. The dragon paid attention to every word, not missing any detail.

Heating the water of natural water bodies, communicating with companions, flourishing plants and flowers... Those things seemed so simple to her, but to Lance, they were stupidly incredible.

Although as he saw it, nothing could compare to her flight through the forest, how the trees seemed to withdraw their branches to make her way and the flowers seemed to blossom a little more.

Do you have any requests? Feel free to stop by my ask box! But first, please read this.

[jessiebanethedragon]

Commander?

Summary: Reader ('Mech') Is a member of CT-9904's unit and is sent to Ryloth instead of fighting with the insurgents. If only either of them could figure out why he made that call...

basically empire Crosshair is falling in love with the reader and is fighting with the chip's influence, the reader is falling as well. This is what happens when she see's the aftermath of the engine injuries.

Warnings: the reader gets choked, but not like in that way, reader is mean to crosshair, crosshair is mean to reader (ie neither of them know how feelings work)

Ryloth is grossly humid, you hate the way it feels with your plastoid armor on. The dark colour of it and your blacks underneath certainly don’t help either. And the fact that you’re still seething over your delegation has your teeth so clenched it hurts. Senator Taa is driving you insane as well, the fact that you’re playing the part that any trooper could be is driving you insane.

You didn’t get the nickname Mech for nothing. The modified electrostaff that hangs on your hip is evidence of that. The pop of your knuckles out of boredom has Syndulla and his clone looking at you.

“Something to say? Admiral Rampart asks with a glare. The kind that makes you stand straighter and fall in formation. When an answer doesn’t come from behind your helmet he sighs before adding. “You’re dismissed.”

Back in your sorry excuse for barracks, your armor is thrown against the wall. Starting with the stuffy helmet, the sound it makes when it hits the stone isn’t enough to satisfy your anger. So as you strip off each piece of the remaining plastoid it too, meets the interior of the Ryloth cave.

Screw him. Screw your commander. Screw the nerf herding Clone that sent you here. You hate him, you hate the way he speaks to you. Like he’s always looking for a weakness. You hate being here playing guard dog while they chase down the insurgents. And what you hate the most is the insecurity that lingers in your mind.

Why didn’t he think I was good enough?

You were the only one left behind, the only one sent to Ryloth ahead of time. Perhaps for one too many snarky comments. Perhaps because he doubted your abilities.

You’re so angry you go as far as striping out of the empire regulated blacks and into your civilian clothes. Which largely consists of your old baggy tactical pants that are so worn down the hues of your favorite colour are faded. But you still stuff the pants into your combat boots anyways. The top is less top-like and more like a piece of fabric that is long enough to turn into some kind of thing resembling clothing. It’s not exactly high Naboo fashion, but it’s a hell of a lot less warm than your kriffing armor.

You take to fixing the scope of his sniper rifle. You’re tempted to leave it broken, Maker knows how it happened in the first place. But you’re desperate for a distraction, a challenge, anything to take away the sting of being left behind. It gets fixed all too quickly, and you have to resort to tinkering with the calibrations in order to pass the time.

The door opens with a whoosh and the Commander and the rest of your team find you lounging with your feet up, scope in hand looking positively annoyed. Everyone tenses when you lazily get up, and walk over to them without saluting.

“That doesn't look like your uniform to me.” He says, the anger crackling through the helmet. And while everyone else has taken their helmets off, you can see them hesitate.

“Well considering the planet's demilitarizing, it didn’t look like it needed a commando to me.” You snap, the week of annoyance coming to fruition all at once.

“What did you just say to me?” He asks, stepping closer and bunching his fists. Your hand goes to your electrostaff, and his to his blaster. Weighing your options, you decide not to sign your death warrant today. Instead you reach into your pocket and grab the newly fixed scope. Not passing up the change to shove it into his chest.

The second your hand collides with the pastoid he moves like lightning. The scope clatters to the ground adding to the noises of surprise that your comrades make. Some of them move to help you, but think better of it. By the time your brain catches up your back has already hit the wall, a durasteel hand around your neck.

“Apologise.” He grits out. The green visor burning out your retina, and your hands scratching at his vambrace. You splutter around the hand, and he lets up a little. Just a little. The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to say the two simple words.

“I take it you failed to catch them then?” You say instead. And the hand tightens again, making you slap his forearms, he doesn't let up and somewhere your brain registers someone gasping:

“He’s going to kill Mech!” And with that, you collide with the floor. One hand bracing yourself and keeping you off the actual ground, and the other cradling the tender skin.

“You three. Out.” He snaps, and the sounds of footsteps rush out the door. Looking up at the Commander, you see the helmet watch your comrades hustle out, before he moves further into the barracks. Collecting a jug of water and a singular cup. Clutching both in one hand, he uses his other to haul you up. Still gasping you try to struggle.

“Calm down.” He says plainly. “I’m not going to hurt you”

“I think you understand why I'm not inclined to believe that.” You wheeze out, as he leads you to one of the beds and makes you sit on it. Before pouring water into the cup, and hesitantly handing it to you.

“Drink.” he barely gets the word out before you’re snatching the substance from him and gulping it down. You cover yourself in it but you don't really care. Pausing to catch your breath again, the fog begins to clear.

“No toothpick?” You mean to tease, but when you ask he walks away from you. That's when you catch it. There’s a piece of his armor that's discoloured from the rest. Not so much that it needed replacing, but enough for you to notice. “Commander?” You ask, and watch him shake his head ever so slightly. Only turning back when he hears you get up and stagger towards him.

“Sit back down. You’re injured.” He winces slightly at the sentence. Almost like there's a part of him that hates himself for hurting you. Funnily enough it's the same part that convinced him not to let you on that mission.

“I think you are too.” You admit softly. “Let me see.” You push. And he grumbles and mumbles before taking his helmet off.

His hair has been shaved off - even shorter than it was before. But that's not what catches your eye. What you stare at is the gaping injury on the back left side of his head. And the way he scrunches his nose and turns away shows you something you’ve never seen from him before.

Fragility, fear, embarrassment and maybe a multitude of other emotions fly across his face. When he opens his mouth to say something your brain kicks into gear.

“Sit down. Let me tend to it.” You demand. He tries to protest.

“That's not-” “Just let me see it.”

“I’m fine-” “You need bacta.” You’re still trying to lead him into sitting down, and he tries to argue more before finally giving in.

“I was cleared from the medbay you know.” He grumbles, and part of your soul does cartwheels when he listens to you and does actually sit down. And you almost like to think you’re the only person who he does listen to.

There aren't nearly enough bacta strips to double wrap the area like you wanted, but it’ll do until you can restock at a proper Imperial medbay.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been this close to each other, and it isn’t even the first time you’ve touched the commander's face. The first and only other time was in the depths of space. Everyone else was passed out in exhaustion after mission after mission. But you two, neither of you could sleep. And you could see the scrunch in his brow of anxiety and pent up adrenalin. And somehow, some miracle happened and after much convincing, you sat on the floor of some hallway, and he let you rub calming circles into his temple. You can still feel the way his hands held onto your forearms gently, like he was afraid you’d hurt him, or maybe he was afraid you wouldn't hurt him. Or maybe, just maybe, he had wanted to hold you.

“I should’ve been there.” You whisper while dressing the wound. It probably looks worse than it is but guilt is still eating you alive.

“You were where you needed to be.” He states. Taking his gloves off while you move from behind, to beside him as you finish with the bacta. Still analysing the wound and the rest of his face. He almost wants to smile, they didn’t call you Mech for nothing.

“Why did you send me away?” You ask. Closing your eyes when you feel a hand come up and caress your face. It's so gentle it’s almost like it's not there at all. Your heart feels like it's exploding with each beat. Why did this always happen between the two of you, why were you like magnets for each other.

And why did he always have to push you away after?

“I’m sorry,” He tells you when he grazes over your neck. “For that,” another swipe of a gentle hand. “But not for sending you here. Evidently I made the right call.” Fingers rest under your chin, tilting it up. When your eyes open, his are finding the part of you that you worked so hard to bury.

“You should be. It kriffing hurts.” You try to joke, to hide your feelings. But it comes out dry and cracked, a reminder of his anger moments ago.

“You learned your lesson then.” He snaps. And yet, the hand that goes to your hair is still gentle.

“Don’t leave me behind again commander. Or it’ll be the last time you see me.” It’s not a threat, but his eyes darken as if it is one.

“Good soldiers follow orders.” He hisses.

“Good thing we’re commandos then.” You shoot back. He closes his eyes and sighs, his hand leaving your face. It takes something with it, and you feel at a loss. One of your hands travels the regulated blanket that you’re sitting on, like it’s subconsciously searching for him.

Instead, he stands up and walks away.

“You should be resting.” You grumble at him, also standing up, if only to cross your arms in annoyance.

“I was cleared from the medbay.” He repeats himself, reaching for his helmet, ready to block you out again.

“Those droids clear out anything with a pulse. You need time to heal.” Hesitantly, you pad over to him, your hand stopping his when he goes to put the helmet on again. As if on instinct his other hand goes to your throat. But he stops himself when he sees the marks from before.

“This isn’t allowed.” He whispers, bucket hitting the floor. His hand moves onto your waist like a different person is in control of his motions. “I’m sorry.” He says again, fixated on the markings on your neck.

“It’s okay.” You tell him, moving closer. Sighing into his hold and the cool armor on hot skin. Looking up at your commander with blinking eyes. If someone was to walk in now, you’d most likely be executed, or exiled at the very least. But it doesn't stop his bare hands from moving, one on your hip where skin meets skin outside of imperial rules, regulation and armour. The other goes to your face again. Why does he like it so much? What is it about your face that is addictive? He tries to imagine a different face, a different person having this effect on him.

He can’t.

“No.” He says against your lips when they almost touch. And you tremble in rejection, a blank face covers the part of you that's crying. You’re so close to him, to something real, something other than war efforts or the Galactic Empire. You ignore him, and try to lean forward again, but the hand in your hair moves to place two fingers of your lips and push you back. And you know he feels your lips stutter and breath hitch as you contain a cry. His hands leave you completely as he steps away and puts his helmet back on.

“Shame.” You say bitterly, and you’re not proud of what happens next. Maybe you’re too smart, maybe you shouldn’t have read his file when you hacked into the database to find those chain codes. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him hurt you first.

“I liked seeing your tattoo.” You add, watching the helmet glare at you. “It’s a Crosshair, right?”

[fannishcodex]

More Bat adora and her papa please, just to tied us over while you are making the story.

@thehumminbrawler So this actually inspired me to write a like ficlet oneshot. ^^; May be out-of-continuity with the mainline AU, but was neat to put it down and I kinda just needed to put it down due to some stuff going IRL right now, I'm like coping with fandom even more right now.

Notes: While spacebat!Adora was a baby, Shadow Weaver tried to kidnap her and take over the Etherian Horde. Hordak managed to protect Adora, escaping with her and Imp as well as those that remained loyal to him/didn't want to follow SW, while SW took over the Fright Zone and created the Shadow Horde. Hordak and co.--pretty much now the Renegade Horde--fled to the Crimson Waste, and their presence started to stabilize the region. The Renegade Horde fights more with the Shadow Horde now, and tries to negotiate for allies more. The Renegade Horde has an ongoing and tense negotiation effort with the Royal Alliance against the Shadow Horde. The Valley refers to the Valley of the Lost, still a major settlement in the Crimson Waste and now more of a bustling center of commerce and community. Just quickly named Dryl Baker "Bekka." Due to Hordak's background of being surrounded by brothers as his own family and society, he perceives Adora and Imp as his younger siblings, but after Later Events he'll start exploring the terms of 'parent-child' and may think that fits their relationship better. (It's an AU Prime in this though the differences don't really come into play here.) There is a little Entrapdak.

Fic under the cut:

following his brothers while sneaking glances out the window at all the stars

all four eyes bearing down on him and pinning him in place

futilely holding a dying brother's hand on the battlefield

"--well I'm very happy you've got it all figured out, Imp." Hordak's ears twitched at his younger sister's grumbling, making his heart slow down. He clung to the sound of her voice, a refuge from nightmares and poor memories even if she obviously sounded irritated, though with an edge of self-reproach. The elder clone began to gingerly sit up, monitoring himself while slipping off the blanket. What could his younger siblings be squabbling over? What could be troubling Adora? How long had he slept?

Fortunately Hordak hadn't fainted, but he had felt weaker, tired earlier--enough so that Adora and Imp caught him and made him lie down and rest. As they had gotten older, his younger siblings had a habit of ganging up on him when they put their mind to it, and their teamwork always proved to be formidable. But Hordak had planned to search for some materials down in the Valley today, and he still saw no reason why he couldn't do so. He felt groggy, but also like some of his energy had been replenished. Adora's reasoning and Imp's insistence that he should rest had been sound.

Imp gave a warning screech, clearly spotting him, and Adora was immediately at his side. Though still...wobbly, irritation didn't flash through Hordak (he was getting better at accepting help from those he cared about). Instead, a fond smile slipped onto his face at his sister's presence. But when he caught her eye, his smile faltered slightly. They were blue and alive with concern--but he again stumbled on the dark slit pupils she had been blessed to inherit from their oldest brother and genetic template. Blessed. She had been blessed...it was his own weakness and cowardice that made him unsettled sometimes. But these were rare flashes for the differences always asserted themselves--Adora's eyes were a bright blue just like her fangs, and more significantly they were always warm and open, she had not the necessary detachment of Horde Prime. (And yet it had been a long time since Hordak had talked about Horde Prime with either Adora or Imp.)

Hordak felt his own self-reproach cloud his mind when Adora frowned, but felt it retreat when she only said that maybe he should lie back down, and asked how he felt. She apparently hadn't realized Hordak foolishly misdirected fear toward her eyes and the unintended offense. Adora had thought his faltering smile and proverbial wince was due to his physical weakness, not his mental one. The elder clone took a breath and shook his head. "I'm fine, Sister. I've rested enough--" Adora glared, and her ears gave a warning flick. "You shouldn't go to town today--" Hordak opened his mouth, then his eyes landed on a tray of tiny soup mugs. He decided to switch tactics. Sometimes it was necessary in the face of Adora's determination. "Entrapta made soup?" It wasn't really a question, and he reached out a talon for a mug. Though he hadn't seen her before Adora and Imp had convinced him to rest, he assumed his partner must've come while he slept, made something for when he awoke, then took her leave. They were all busy with impending negotiations and the...local customs that were apparently necessary. (He still didn't understand "parties," while Adora tackled them with dedication, almost always open to finding the value in anything.) Imp passed him a mug, and Adora absently nodded. "Yeah, she came while you were out and whipped them up." Then she shook her head, re-focusing. "She said--"

"--tell Hordak to feel better and sorry I couldn't stay, Cobalt needed some time-sensitive wrangling with the delegation from Thaymor--but I'll be back later tonight!" Entrapta's recording filtered out once Imp opened his mouth. Hordak smiled at her bright voice. Adora laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Right, that. Thanks Imp." She slid the tray of soup closer to Hordak, where it had been placed on a small table next to his bed. "You like it? Entrapta said she tried something different, added a new herb or something that Bekka told her about," his sister remarked, and Hordak nodded around a sip. Then Adora's ears snapped down, nearly horizontal, and her eyes narrowed. "Eating your soup doesn't mean you should go out right now." "I'll have been fed and rested," Hordak pointed out after finishing his second mug. Adora's ears pricked up to their usual stance, and her eyes were no longer narrowed. "Hordak, I can just go into town for you--" His sister was apparently trying to change tactics too. The elder clone shook his head. "I am looking through updated inventory, not picking up something I know they already have." He downed another mug of soup. "If you just described what you're looking for--" "It's not that simple, it's..." Hordak shook his head. "It would be easier if I did it myself." "...You're just browsing, aren't you?" Hordak nodded, realizing Adora had articulated what he meant. "Yes, that." His sister blew out a frustrated breath, her ears giving an irritated flick. But she still didn't look convinced. "You can always accompany me to the Valley," Hordak finally said after he emptied another mug. Usually Adora loved exploring the merchants' wares in the Valley markets; it was what he had come to learn was called a "hobby." "My formal dress got wrecked when the Shadow Horde tried to kidnap Prince Peekablue." Adora's disappointed voice crackled out as Imp played the recording, while the present Adora's ears pricked up in surprise. "We can look for something new for you in town," Hordak added, seizing on Imp's opening. Adora's eyes darted between her brothers, frowning. Imp looked smug and far too satisfied, while Hordak tried not to grin at his younger brother's demeanor. Hordak and Imp could form their own effective team as well. Adora shook her head, but hesitantly. "That's fine, there's still time before the talks and the delegates' ball, I can go when you're feeling better--" "I feel better now," Hordak insisted. Imp chittered cajolingly as he climbed up on his shoulder, but Adora favored her fellow hybrid brother with a glare. "Backstabber," she grumbled at Imp, who just chirped teasingly. Then their sister rolled her eyes. "Fiiiine." Imp theatrically scrunched up his face in faux disgust, then played back a recording of one of Princess Mermista's signature groans. "Woah no, I'm not--don't even joke about that--" Adora snapped with wide, alarmed eyes while Imp snickered and Hordak slid a hand over his growing smile. ___ Since the fracture of the Etherian Horde and their exile into the Crimson Waste, the desert region had been changing with the influx of now branded Renegade Horde members who rejected Shadow Weaver's command. The place had become more stable, and in that stability it had found a new profitability in more consistent commerce. After examining scrap yards and mechanics for new goods and finding some promising materials that went straight into Adora's shopping pack--she refused to let Hordak carry anything, and Hordak refrained from resisting as long as she agreed to let him carry whatever new dress she picked--they went to the merchants selling various garments and accessories. Adora tried to efficiently and quickly select something, and while Hordak could see her reasoning, he instead told her that she could spend more time looking. "You normally enjoy the markets," he pointed out to her. Hordak still had mixed feelings on the place, which was especially dependent on how tolerable the crowds were. But he felt satisfied when he found particularly useful tools or supplies there; he enjoyed it more when he hunted for supplies with Entrapta and shared conversation with her; it brightened his mood when he watched Adora bounce happily between the stalls and eagerly browse while Imp flew around her head, orbiting her like a moon.

His sister sighed. Imp plopped on her head, pouting, and Adora stumbled a little under the sudden weight of him. She frowned and glared up at the boy, but then stared back at Hordak. "Yeah, but--" "I'm fine, Adora," Hordak repeated. Then he hesitated, and continued, "We...could use a break, and that can take the form of an afternoon in the market stalls." It was difficult to learn, but Hordak had been learning. He had been learning from his younger siblings, when he found he liked letting them play, and continued to desire seeing them enjoy themselves when they could. He had learned from Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia once he realized he could trust them more. He had learned from Entrapta... (Hordak tried not to think of his oldest brother wreathed in light and consumed with purpose.) Adora blinked, and gave a soft smile. Then she giggled as Imp mussed up her snow white hair, and Hordak led them to the dried fruit stall they all favored. ___ Adora examined various dresses and talked to some eager-to-sell merchants while her brothers stood back. Imp ate the last of the dried apricots while he sat on Hordak's shoulder, and though the risk was minimal, Hordak wanted to ensure he did not make a mess on the shop's inventory. When Imp finished, Hordak nodded to him, quietly giving permission, and the boy immediately launched himself off and flitted around Adora's head. Locals used to Imp were able to mind the boy's flight path.

"Hey, Hordak, you already have an outfit picked out like Imp and Entrapta, right?" Adora called out from behind a shelf of scarves and jewelry, with only the tips of her ears poking out. And then they ducked out of sight while she was clearly on the search for something, or examining something more closely.

"Yes," Hordak said, while he glared at Imp and gave a warning flick of his ears when the boy started playing with a scarf, wrapping it too fast and roughly around his body. The boy stuck out his tongue, but began to disentangle himself.

"Okay, so I'm looking for a dress, but I thought I could accessorize too because something just caught my eye--but maybe I should find a dress first--but this accessory could help me narrow down on a dress that could pair well with it--"

Hordak actually felt the urge to laugh, but he fought it down and only allowed himself a smile. (But he questioned himself--why not laugh, a chuckle in the Valley's bustling market would not be out of place--the silence of his brothers while on guard shift, four eyes staring down--but he had already broken so many edicts--the cold click of a talon guard--)

"Are you asking for input, or brainstorming?" Hordak asked, shoving back thoughts of his original home away. It was a question he had asked Adora before, wishing to determine when she wanted his thoughts or when she wanted someone to just listen.

"Brainstorming! And I'm also prepping you because I want to show you and see what you think, and I think I found something you might like too--" And then Adora stepped out and gestured to her ears with a smile.

Hordak looked, and he felt something rise up in his throat, and he hated himself. The metal clasps wrapped around Adora's ears were bronze and they didn't even reach the tips of her ears--but in his mind's eye he saw Prime and silver clasps perfectly fitted to his ears, and the dark slit pupils of Adora's bright blue eyes were swallowed up by vivid green and lacking in all warmth...

"Brother--?"

Hordak flinched, his eyes squeezed shut. And then it registered with him that it had been Adora's voice filled with concern, obviously not Prime's. His self-loathing grew. He opened his eyes just in time to see Adora close the gap and lay a supporting talon on his arm, clearly worried he might stumble. Imp clung to her shoulder, with part of the scarf he had been playing with still wrapped around one of his arms.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"I...yes, I just need to take a seat," Hordak said, thinking pretending he had felt a little faint was better than admitting to the awful and confusing thoughts that plagued him. Adora promptly and politely asked the merchant's assistant if they had a stool, and he immediately provided one.

Adora thanked the assistant, then looped an arm around Hordak's, clearly wanting to help him sit. Normally he would've resisted, he would've insisted that he could sit by himself at least, but shame and guilt made him comply. But then he saw in his sister's face that his easy compliance had not been reassuring to her.

"When you're ready, we can go back--"

Hordak shook his head while Imp switched to his shoulder. "I'm fine now; I can wait here while you find your dress." Avoiding her concerned look, Hordak unwrapped the final piece of scarf away from Imp, then carefully began rolling it up.

The elder clone glanced up at Adora's ears--now dipped low with worry, he noted with another stab of guilt--and forced himself to review the new accessory by its own merit. Despite his efforts, he felt it still looked eerily similar to Prime's; but its bronze material seemed to go well with the reds Adora tended to favor.

His ears flicked in the direction of her new jewelry. "Their color suits you," he murmured with muted but genuine fondness. This was his sister, her own...truly her own person. Her capacity for mercy marked her as distinct.

Adora's ears pricked up, and she ran a talon self-consciously across the length of a clasp adorning one of them. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

She smiled softly back. Then she startled, as if remembering something. She raised her other talon, closed in a fist. "This is the, um, thing I thought you might like." She unfurled her fist and let a single, red diamond earring dangle from her carefully pinched, taloned fingers. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be by itself for an asymmetrical look--at least that's what the note next to it said--"

When Hordak reached out a talon, Adora dropped it in his waiting palm. He rubbed a thumb over its surface, still warm from his sister's touch.

"It's exquisite," Hordak said, and Adora softly chuckled, pleased. Then after again asking Hordak if he was fine and Hordak again insisting he was, Adora went back to looking. Soon she amassed a pile of clothes and claimed one of the dressing stalls. By the time she came out wearing the first dress, Imp was settled in Hordak's lap, and Hordak had tried on the red diamond earring.

"Too long," Adora muttered. She went back in, and came out again in a new dress.

"Too much...um, ruffles?"

Dress number three. "This color's not working."

Back in, back out. "The embroidery's kinda too much."

Next. "Okay guys, what do you think of--?"

"You look like you got run over by a tank." Imp used a recording of Grizzlor's voice, and Hordak gave a scolding hiss.

With a flush running across both her ears and cheeks, Adora immediately ran back into the stall and snapped the curtain behind her. Imp glanced up at Hordak with a guilty look, realizing his joking had gone too far. "You will apologize to her later," he told Imp with a glare.

"Um, so I actually like...kinda like this one..." Adora's voice filtered out from behind the curtain of the stall, and the hesitancy in her voice made Imp's ears lower even more, and Hordak did not relent in the glare he favored him with. "But I dunno, it's...well, look--"

And Adora stepped out, with one talon gripping her other arm while her cheeks and the tips of her ears still flushed blue. Adora favored red, and all of the dresses she had tried on were different shades of it, but this one was the right sort of crimson that went well enough with her blue skin. The cut of it was simple, from its torso to the way the edge of its skirt flared out, but the structure of it suited Adora in his mind. Its belt was just as simple, and with an amber color that paired well with her bronze ear clasps.

"It's kinda basic, but..."

"You look lovely, Adora," Hordak said, and his sister's ears perked up.

"Beautiful." Imp conveyed with a recorded excerpt of Entrapta's voice.

Adora smiled, her blue fangs beaming.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments/reblogs/likes are deeply appreciated!

[mello-jello]

Levihan Drabble Week - Fluff Friday

1246 Words.

@levihan-drabbles my prompt was:

"Don't you have a country to run?" "My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait" "I don't think it works like that." "I run the country, so it does."

---

“I guess… this is the result of all your devoted... hearts” Levi proudly saluted them all. His comrades and his friends, as he let the tears flow freely. It was over. It was finally over. As the weight of everything that he went through the past few days began to lift, he started feeling light headed. He sank back against the rock, afraid he was going to fall over. His vision was blurry, all he could focus on was the sound of his own breathing. He needed water. His vision doubled.

“LEEEVIIIIIII?”

He heard a voice, off in the distance. It was a warm, familiar voice, but something was off. It sounded worried, panicked even.

“LEVI!”

It was much closer now, and a little breathless. They had been running to him.

“Levi, stay with me!” Hange scooped Levi up in their arms.

Of course, I’ll stay with you. Where would I go? His last thought before he completely blacked out was how safe he felt in Hange’s arms.

---

He remembers that his leg is broken from when he saved Connie from that titan. He tried to flex the rest of his body parts, to assess the damage. The stumps on his right hand where his first two fingers used to be were sore and stinging. Probably infected. Half of his face was still bandaged. Both his legs were sore, but he could wiggle his toes on both feet, so that was promising. There was a dull ache throughout his body, and his skin felt clammy. He huffed to himself, and tried to relax.

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he could tell where he was. The rough sheets, the gentle humming of machines, the steady beeping of the vitals monitor, and the sterile smell were all dead giveaways. He was in the hospital.

He focussed on the hustle and bustle of the hospital hallway. Carts being wheeled around, footsteps, and the low murmur of many hushed voices.

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to go in anymore?”

His remaining eye shot open when he heard the voice he recognized.

“No, I’m just saying, like, don’t you have a country to run or something?” Levi didn’t know who the second voice was, but they were a bitch and hated them.

“My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait.” Levi smiled under his bandages. It pulled at his stitches, but his pain was dulled by the warmth growing in his chest.

"I don't think it works like that, sweetie,” they replied, condescendingly. Yup. Bitch.

"Well, you see I run the country, so yes, it does work like that,” Hange retorted, matching the bitch’s sarcastic tone.

Somehow, his smile widened. That was his Hange.

When Hange entered his room, their slightly miffed countenance shifted to one of pure joy. “You’re awake!” They rushed over the bedside and took hold of his good hand. With their free hand, they delicately brushed Levi’s hair off his forehead, almost as if afraid to touch him. Tears of relief began to well in Hange’s eyes. “Hey there,” they spoke so softly, Levi almost didn’t hear it.

“Hey, Four-Eyes,” Levi pulled their interlaced hands to his mouth and kissed Hange’s through the bandages. His voice was hoarse and small, but it was still music to Hange’s ears. Music they hadn’t listened to in 11 days.

After a moment, Levi asked, “They giving you trouble out there?”

“I know, right? What a bitch”. Levi stifled a chuckle as the movement reminded him of his injuries.

“But, what did she mean, ‘you have a country to run’?”

“Oh Levi, you missed SO. MUCH. You’ve only been out for 11 days, I say ‘only’ because while it is a long time for an individual to be in a coma, it’s an amazingly short amount of time for Paradis to transform into a Constitutional Monarchy with its first democratically elected official: Prime Minister Hange Zoe!”

Levi just blinked. He didn’t know what any of those words meant.

“That bitch in the hallway made a snide comment about how I was wasting all my time coming here everyday, when I should be doing my job,” Hange said, glaring at the doorway. “She said: don’t you get tired of blabbering on? He can’t reply, and he’s probably not even listening to you. I thought to myself, that’s just normal!”

Levi laughed and then groaned in pain. “Don’t make me laugh, Four-Eyes. It hurts”.

“Sorry,” they said earnestly.

“S’okay” Levi’s pain meds were starting to tire him out again.

“To be fair, it’s never been this easy”. Hange planted a kiss on Levi’s forehead.

“It’s the drugs”.

“Shut up, I’m hilarious.”

She was. And she was more bubbly than usual. Well, her usual as of lately. Before, this would have been considered a mild Hange. While he appreciated them being here, he couldn’t help but worry about them. Can they really afford to be with him right now? Was Hange putting off duties only to drown in them later? Becoming Commander of the Scouts had already taken a heavy toll on them and although he didn’t quite understand Hange’s new title, knew that it must be a huge responsibility.

Hange noted the worry in his eye and said, “I came to a realization while I was talking to you. You wanna know what it was?”

Levi nodded.

“I, Hange Zoe, while being awesome in every conceivable way, am just one person. My whole time as a scout, I kept repeating over and over that we were a team and that we could handle anything if humanity just worked together. Why didn’t I internalize that as Commander? I had too much on my plate and didn’t ask for help when I needed it”. They paused, remembering the many sleepless nights and stressful days. “So, Prime Minister Hange Zoe will be a master delegator. Armin is handling the restructuring of our government and military. I get daily reports from him, but other than that, he’s got my back while I’m here. Onyankopon is our ambassador and trade consultant. I have a whole cabinet of officials to oversee certain regions of land, and the best part is that they were chosen by the people of their respective regions to represent them,” Hange explained with growing enthusiasm all about this new system of government.

“That’s amazing, Hange.” Levi looked at them with such a fondness that made Hange blush.

“Thank you,” they bashfully replied as they fiddled with their glasses. They couldn’t see his mouth, but they could tell he was grinning by the crinkles around his eye.

“Alright, you” Hange said, standing up. “If you ever want to use that leg again, you’ll have to do some intense rehab. You’re so shit at sleeping. Eleven long days, but you’re still sleepy? Damn, quality over quantity, Levi! So rest up, because I’m going to tell the doctor you’re up and we’re starting tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll be here every step of the way… to laugh. When you fall on your ass,” they winked at him. That earned a small giggle from Levi, who was giving in to unconsciousness.

“Alright Four-Eyes… sounds…. Sounds real...mmm... really good” Levi drifted back to sleep and Hange kissed his forehead once more. Then whispered in his ear, “thanks for not dying, short stuff. You had me really worried there. I need you to get healed up, okay? I know a bitch that needs an ass-kicking”.

[bomberqueen17]

sometimes adhd is good actually

Well, so I was trying to nail down Iorveth a bit so I could have him talk to Yennefer to advance the plot, and then I...

I don’t actually remember how I got onto the topic, but, well-- I mean I sort of do, I was working through the theoretical politics of the post-Nilfgaard-conquest Northlands.

Listen, this is long, but bear with me, and click through for some A++ Baby Acquisition Crack, I promise it’s worth it, there’s a lot of Witcher 2 and books stuff but I promise you won’t regret wading through it.

And so we posit that Aedirn has had both Dol Blathanna carved out of it for Francesca Findabair to have as a sanctuary for elves, and now the Upper Aedirn Free State for Queen Saskia the (wink, nudge) Dragonslayer to have as her own little fiefdom-- and the necessary background there is that Francesca Findabair, an elven mage, got Dol Blathanna from Emhyr as a concession in the books in return for not recalling the Scoia’tael commandos, who were then betrayed to death by Nilfgaard at the end of the second war, which means that basically all the young elves hate her so much. Meanwhile, Saskia is, spoilers for Witcher 2, secretly actually literally a dragon (possibly the daughter of Borch Three Jackdaws who you will remember from Netflix!!), and her little state is a sanctuary for all kinds of nonhumans and she has a number of the surviving former Scoia’tael in her government, including Iorveth. And then finally, you posit that Temeria is now under a regency council while the queen Anais is still a child, and I’m gonna put Vernon Roche and John Natalis on that council-- maybe Louisa LaValette, the queen’s mother, too? So anyway there’s your set stage, that Yennefer is walking into for Plot Purposes halfway through the Ciri story.

And then I was like you know, Iorveth would hate Francesca so much, Saskia would have to use him somewhere else because he would just never be able to even look at any of the Dol Blathanna delegation without either committing murder or spontaneously imploding. (Understandably. A further bit of context for you Netflix fans is that the Scoia’tael rebels were by and large the last remaining elves young enough to breed, the whole future of the race; Francesca genuinely sold her children to their-- horrible-- deaths in order to make herself a comfortable house. A hard choice, but also, patently, unforgivable, from their perspective and I’d argue the perspective of basically anyone capable of finer feelings.) Obviously Saskia, being a wise and sensible ruler, would send him instead on regular postings to Temeria, where he and Roche would constantly posture at one another, and would actually develop a shockingly healthy relationship based on constant sexual tension that for all it’s frequently relieved builds up constantly (their hatefucking is the real perpetuum mobile). But of course, for special occasions, Saskia would be sure to coordinate sending Iorveth to events in Dol Blathanna that Roche would also attend simply because the two of them could be counted upon to get into a messy fight, destroy a bunch of things, and then hatefuck spectacularly in a closet or something. Saskia actually coordinates this with LaValette-- Iorveth can’t be told anything, it’s mean enough just to send him, but Roche is actually given lists of priceless or strategic artifacts he should attempt to knock off shelves with Iorveth’s body during the inevitable brawl, and he goes grimly prepared for every mission because it is his patriotic duty as a Temerian and Roche is literally nothing if not a patriotic Temerian. (Netflix fans, this is really all you need ever know about him, he is Sam The Eagle, only for Temeria, and in a really silly hat.)

Hm, I thought; the absolute best fuck-you I could have Iorveth give Francesca would be for him to come into possession of a baby somehow, though. So I put a pin in that and started thinking.

You know, Saskia being an actual literal dragon, I’m quite sure she doesn’t have like. Anything boring like a hetero monogamous marriage. The list of facts we know about dragons from canon is fairly scant, but one thing we do know is that they Like to Fuck. (One of the reasons I was like I should read the books was when I discovered that instead of what we got in the Netflix series, in the books the dragon hunt begins with Geralt, Borch, Tea, and Vea having a foursome in a hot tub. Like--- there’s no coyness there, they fuck. Offscreen but expressly. Netflix could never.)

Anyway. Queen Saskia’s apartments include a bedchamber with not so much a bed in it, as that the whole chamber is full of cushions and mattresses, and she has a cuddle pile in there. Iorveth’s expressly invited to the cuddle pile. And then I was like okay, there should be more to this, and I have now made up an ancient elven tradition of collaborative group marriages which no fear I will give a pretentious Welsh name, and that’s more or less what this is, with a cast as yet to be determined. The point is, what Saskia has is a lovely and perfectly respectable group marriage, some of the members of whom are reproductively or sexually compatible with the others and some of whom are not and only they are really concerned with the details and even those are subject exclusively to the consent of the people directly involved and are nobody else’s business.

Now the only part of this that is actually cracky is a premise I’m stealing straight from the books. This shit is bonkers, and I was figuring the speaker was unreliable and clearly pushing a vendetta here, but then I determined that it was way more hilarious to solemnly take him as correct and telling the truth. Avalla’ch the Aen Elle sage very ponderously tells Geralt at one point in I think Baptism of Fire that really the reason humans were allowed onto the Continent by the Aen Seidhe who could have annihilated them at any time, it’s important that you know that, is that elves are only fertile intermittently, and yet the “powerful orgasms” (I am not making this up) male humans could give she-elves meant they ovulated more (I am not making this up), and became more fertile, and could make more babies, and so they kept humans around because she-elves Wanted To Fuck. Which like, what the fuck bro, but. SURE. FINE.

So let’s take that as a fact: Firstly, Elves are not that fertile and grow less-so with age and stress. Sure. Fine. Secondly, Elves get more fertile when they have sex with humans. WHY NOT.

If you’re not following where I’m headed with this, don’t worry, I promise it’s getting good.

So let’s get back to Iorveth. Listen, he was a Scoia’tael for a long time, and he did some horrible shit. He committed a lot of war crimes. There was a lot of that about; his people got pretty genocided in there for a bit. There was no mercy to the elves, and so the elves had no mercy right back, and it was horrible. War is horrible. (That’s mostly what the books are about, incidentally, if you were wondering. War fucking sucks y’all. Also something something neutrality in the face of oppression is taking the side of the oppressor. Mumble.)

Iorveth is in the Saskia Cuddle Marriage but mostly thinks of himself as somewhat peripheral; he tends to stay on the outskirts of it, mostly mopes, feels like he’s got to protect them, and so on. He’s very Noble Sufferingy about the whole thing (the dirty secret the Dol Blathanna elves threw away after using his blood to buy their safety etc etc, a monster haunted by the screams of his innocent victims equally with the screams of his comrades he couldn’t save, so on and so forth), and Saskia tolerates him fondly and only sometimes calls him out for moping and makes him come do something fun. But at one point one of the women in the marriage really wants a baby, and Saskia good-naturedly bullies Iorveth into getting in on the action (he is not exactly unwilling, his loner schtick is pretty transparently him needing to be reassured). He is, of course, not likely to be fertile; he is not old, but he’s not the youngest of the elves, and during the war he went through a lot, and anyway, it’s pretty safe to say he’s not likely to do anybody any good, but he’s just there for everyone to have a nice time.

So their attempts are successful, and the woman is pregnant and the expected things progress. Her time comes and they’re good-naturedly betting on who the biological father will wind up to have been-- and of course, they’d all be co-parents, it doesn’t really matter, technically and legally they’re all Saskia’s so it’s Her Baby and that’s chill, and meanwhile Iorveth is like sure sure yeah I’ll be a co-dad but of course is planning to be mopey and uninvolved because He Is A Monster and such Beautiful Lifetime Events are not for him whose legacy is slaughter and so on and so forth, and also there are several candidates who are dwarves and they’re laughing that they won’t be able to tell and Saskia is like oh no I’ll know, because you know, dragon, she knows things. Actually she already knows but isn’t going to tell them. Anyway--

you see where this is going, this child is born and is clearly not a dwarf at all, she’s Iorveth’s, which of course blows his mind and is a huge revelation and so on, but the real crack comes in, thanks to Sapkowski’s weird canon thing--

yes the only reason Iorveth is fertile is that he’s been so regularly ploughing Roche in their closet-hatefuck trysts, and Saskia can tell this and in fact knew it all along and is like oh no, Vernon Roche is in our polycule now and gets co-dad credit. Like... 30% credit at least, buddy. That’s your kid.

Anyway this is how Vernon Roche wound up with a pureblood elven daughter (listen i’m not committed to the precise lineage but it’s vastly more hilarious if she is genetically zero percent human), and now Temeria has to split his fanatical devotion considerably less than 50/50. (Listen his daughter is adorable.)

This might also make him the only human in Saskia’s polycule, but that’s-- she doesn’t really discriminate by species, really, who’s to say there aren’t others on thin fucking ice. He’s in there, though; he co-sired their firstborn, that’s a pretty powerful tie. (And yes, for the record, that makes him married to Iorveth. Like, specifically.)

So the bonus scene is that while Yennefer is present enough to find out about all this more or less as it unfolds, she quite naturally realizes that it is far, far more entertaining to not breathe a word of it to Geralt, and when his business finally takes him up to Vergen, he is astonished to encounter Vernon Roche walking the castle corridor in the middle of the night gently bouncing a fussing infant elf, and when Geralt asks him in astonishment whose baby that is, Vernon gives him a square-jawed glare and says “mine”, and Geralt, taken aback, asks who the mother is, and Vernon glowers and says “Iorveth’s the father”, and Geralt is left realizing that whatever he thought he knew about reproduction is quite possibly entirely wrong.

So anyway I wrote like 1500 words of this, featuring a lot of unexpected Roche’s Childhood feels out of nowhere, and i have no idea how much is directly getting included in the Ciri story and how much is just gonna be background, possibly incompletely-explained, but I just had to make sure that y’all knew the cracky Avall’ach shit in case all I can manage is oblique references. I just really really really need everyone to know that I am not making that up.

SINCE YOU READ ALL THIS, A SNIPPET:

“Oh, did you have a bet on the birth date?” Vernon asked, amused. This was a custom he was familiar with; it was a good way to raise money for the expectant mother, and so it was tradition in the brothel where he’d been born, that everyone would lay a wager on what date the impending babe would be born, and the winner would take half the pot and the mother the other half. 

The dwarf laughed. “No,” he said.

Unexpectedly, Iorveth’s expression closed off suddenly, the beautiful smile replaced by a more customary haughty expression. “You wouldn’t understand, dh’oine.”

It shouldn’t have stung. They were mortal enemies. Vernon realized his mouth had fallen open and closed it, collecting himself for a sharp rejoinder, but found himself without one ready to hand. 

The dwarf, unexpectedly, interceded. “Iorveth, don’t be a prick. He’ll understand it just fine, won’t you, friend?”

“Try me,” Vernon said. 

Iorveth rolled his eye. “Dynan, dh’oine don’t know what a deulumor is. He’ll think it’s something degenerate and salacious.”

“Ach,” the dwarf, apparently named Dynan, scoffed. “It’s an ancient form of family structure where several adults band together to raise children. Is that so hard to convey?”

Vernon thought of the brothel where he had been born, and said, “No, I-- I was raised in something like that.” His face went hot at describing it that way, but it was true. “Where there are-- more adults than children, and whose children they are is-- not all that important?”

Iorveth, disarmed, blinked at him. Dynan laughed. “That’s it exactly,” he said.

[crystal-witchiness]

***Okay so I found this in my notes from May 2021 as a reaction to the scenes in the beginning of Endgame when Captain Marvel first brings Tony and Nebula back to Earth, when they first get off the ship, and when Tony yells at Steve a few scenes later when he looks like ‘Death Warmed Over’ in his robe and i thought I’d share -

Every time someone argues with me about my ABSOLUTE 100% belief that Steve and Tony had romantic feelings for each other, I’ll just show them this scene. “And I needed YOU.” He didn’t say “You guys” or “Your help.” Tony looked at Steve with so much pain in his eyes and said, “I needed y o u.” And Steve is just as broken watching Tony. This isn’t the first time this has happened between them. They had MANY scenes like this in Civil War (but I like to pretend that movie didn’t happen cause ‘ow blow a hole in my ship why dontcha?’) I mean technically I could submit that whole movie as evidence of their feelings but there are too many negative emotions wrapped up in it and it hurts. This movie is the first time they’ve seen each other since Civil War and when Tony first gets off the ship he basically falls into Steve’s arms. First of all, Steve fricking S P R I N T S when he sees Tony getting off the ship, then Tony sighs in relief and lets Steve take his weight. AND IMMEDIATELY begins unloading his grief about losing Peter cause he knew Steve would understand and comfort him. You can SEE s e e when Pepper runs up that (Ofc Tony does another sigh of relief that the snap didn’t take her (which I wish it did sorry Pepper your character stopped being interesting in the 2nd Iron Man)) Tony has to pull himself off of Steve and pretend to have it more together than he does because Pepper immediately begins crying and Tony has to comfort her. But Steve doesn’t leave his side. Tony cradling Pepper but he’s turning his body so that Steve can cradle him and ugh. Honestly I would have accepted a polyamorous relationship. Tony NEEDED someone to be the leader. THATS LITERALLY WHAT PEPPER WAS TALKING ABOUT. Tony NEVER rests because he always thinks he has to be the one to do everything, EXCEPT for when Steve’s around. Steve is the Captain and even though they bump heads (a lot, awww couples’ squabbles) Tony ALWAYS defers to Steve when it’s important. And Steve? Steve HAS to be a leader, to be helpful, in a healthy way because he couldn’t be that for most of his life in the past. He was a scrawny defenseless guy who always had to depend on Bucky. So to be able to take care of this group of wonderful people who are so powerful and yet STILL NEED STEVE? It’s who he his. It’s who Tony is too but he doesn’t WANT to be that way, he does it because he has to. He does it when no one else can or he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. This scene right now is Tony feeling helpless and so he lashes out at the easiest person, Steve. Steve is their leader and has saved them many times. Tony saw that picture of Peter and couldn’t handle his own feelings of helplessness so he lashed out to bring down the next ‘leader figure’ of the group. Steve and Tony have always been the parents of the Avengers. Steve is the most dad-est dad ever to dad. Meanwhile, Tony invites everyone to live with him while feeding them, clothing them (armor and civilian clothes) and making sure they have top of the line protection. HE LITERALLY EVEN SAYS THIS IN AGE OF ULTRON. SUCH a mom. So he wanted to make Steve feel his pain because Steve made a promise that they would lose together and Steve wasn’t there on that moon. And OF COURSE Tony knows that Steve was on earth fighting his own battle against Thanos but he wasn’t WITH Tony. And they are always stronger together than apart. (Civil War kinda proved this too) Tony sees Steve’s absence as the reason they lost, because ‘if only they’d been together’ ‘maybe we could have won if we’d only been together.’

ALSO DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TONY LITERALLY GIVING STEVE A REPRESENTATION OF HIS HEART. I know he did it out of anger and to make a point but he took away this piece of him, that he made SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE HE FELT VULNERABLE WITHOUT THE ARC, and gave it to Steve. Once again shedding that responsibility and giving it to Steve. Because even with the residual anger over Civil War, Tony trusts Steve. He says otherwise in this moment out of anger but that “vision” he talks about here? He literally watches Steve die (YEAH THATS RIGHT I SAID STEVE. Not PEPPER, NOT RHODEY, NOT ANY OF THE OTHER AVENGERS.) Wanda showed him his worst fear in Age of Ultron and it was the death of the Avengers, but he didn’t see THEM die. Everyone else, Thor, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were already dead. Tony watched STEVE die and it was STEVE saying that Tony could’ve saved them that spurred him into creating Ultron. He was so scared of losing them and letting Steve down (and letting him die) that he wanted to wrap the whole world in armor to protect him. And he tries to do it again in this scene. He means it to be spiteful but he gives Steve his armor and tells him to hide from Thanos. WHICH IS ANOTHER THING UGH. Tony doesn’t know that out of all of the people who fought Thanos in Wakanda that day, Steve was the one who engaged in hand-to-hand combat with him. Everyone else had armor and suits, weapons, etc. Steve has his serum strength and he u s e d it. It didn’t help for very long but he used his BARE HANDS to fight an alien-monster wielding 5/6 of ALL POWERFUL infinity stones, and ofc he was never going to win, but even Thanos looked at Steve in incredulity at his bravery and resolve. A human (a super charged one at that but still a human) fought him with his bare hands and wasn’t going to stop. (Steve proved this again at the end of Endgame when he’s the last one standing against Thanos and his entire army and just tightens the strap on his broken shield, (and most likely broken arm, based on the flinch/hiss) and readies himself to fight alone. Steve also gave Wanda time to destroy the mind stone (unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything in the end)

AND YET Tony doesn’t know any of this. He doesn’t know how hard Steve fought, just like Tony did on Titan, to stop Thanos. And I REALLY wish we had seen Tony’s reaction to Steve standing up to Thanos at the end of Endgame OR EVEN WIELDING MJOLNIR, but anyways.

Back to the basics. Boss level stuff most people don’t remember or think about- Tony’s dad very unhealthily IDOLIZED Steve. He canonically compared everything Tony did to Steve. So Tony grew up idolizing this man that he also despised because it fueled his father’s abuse of him. Tony shows this anger in the first Avengers. When they have their argument on the quinjet. “Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” He even says something about how Steve didn’t live up to his father’s hype (I don’t remember Tony’s exact words but that’s the gist) And ofc Steve says Tony’s nothing without his armor. But then they go on the prove each other wrong multiple times, but mainly in their last moments in the MCU. Steve proves it by standing alone against an ENTIRE alien army and later by picking up mjolnir. And Tony? Tony is that ONE factor in a million that Stephen sees. Tony, a beautifully pure human-being, with no powers or serums to help, takes on the powers of the stones. KNOWING it would kill him. He had proof. It nearly killed Thanos and Bruce and they were hulking (pun intended) beings with super strength and all that.

Tony and Steve were always set up to be spoils to one another and that makes them perfect together. They balance each other out. Pepper was a boss b****, no doubt, and I loved their relationship in the first two Iron Man movies, but as their characters grew and Tony’s personality was intrinsically changed through trauma- Pepper was no longer right for him. She was good for him, no doubt, but Tony couldn’t relax with her as he did with Steve. Tony could trust Steve to take over and everything could be fine. Pepper was like that for Stark Industries but not in other ways. Tony always saw himself as Pepper’s protector. I will 100% give her props for telling Tony that he’d never rest until he tried Scott’s time travel theory, but other than that she wasn’t particularly supportive of Iron. Man. What Pepper never seemed to understand, and what Steve didn’t understand when he FIRST met Tony, is that Tony and Iron Man are synonymous. Their is no ‘man outside the suit.’ Tony Stark is Iron Man and Iron Man is Tony Stark. Steve was placed into an already created persona of Captain America. Steve didn’t create Captain America even though that’s who he was. He was literally MADE for the role. Tony on the other hand, MADE Iron Man. He was the one who built the first suit - dying in a cave in Afghanistan. He was the one who took responsibility for Obadiah and his father’s actions and became a superhero to save the countries that were affected by Stark tech. Steve may have volunteered to be a superhero because he felt like he had no one other choice but Tony DIDN’T HAVE TO. He had fame, money, power, ALL OF IT. He could’ve EASILY hidden his company’s dark underside once he found out. But instead, Tony was like “Hey um so my company has done some bad things and instead of delegating aid through my money and power, I’m going to personally handle this with a titanium alloy suit and technology that I helped create in a cave while being held captive by a terrorist cell.”

Where was I going with this? OH YEAH.

I will believe in TonyxSteve (Stony) for the rest of my life and I will use fanfiction to fill the void of their deaths. Basically, if I lost anyone in the word vomit above, what I’m trying to say is that- Steve and Tony completed each other. They provided something the other needed. Tony needed stability and protection. He needed to feel like he could let go. Steve needed an anchor in the present. Someone lively and opinionated, SOMEONE ADVENTUROUS AND FUNNY, who Steve could smile with and protect. But also. Steve trusted Tony to be a leader as much as Tony trusted him. They had their ups and downs. Trauma and the Accords didn’t help their relationship at all, but should’ve been it for each other. And I honestly believe they would have t h r i v e d.

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Honestly I applaud anyone who made it this far. I don’t know where this all came from but I will not apologize✌🏻

I rest my case your honor.