#aside from the obvious reasons that had already been beat to death

[evilbeanieman]

Naomichi Kurumada's Unwavering Spirit and What it Means to Survive

While I understand why people talked more about Sara's minisode compared to Naomichi's, I feel as though many overlooked a few key aspects of his episode that---at least for me---finally convinced me of not only his character but his survival rate.

I will be going over the main game and especially focusing on chapter 3. Additionally, it's been a few months since the minisodes' release, so I will not be marking as spoilers, but I will be putting my analysis and theorizing below the Read More.

If there's one thing that bothered me the most when playing through YTTD, it was the survival rates for all the candidates. I feel as though most are relatively reasonable, and could be thought out fairly well.

There are a few on here I would contest, but those will be saved for a later analysis. My biggest concern here would be Naomichi's. He barely beat's Keiji's by a whopping 0.4% but I personally feel like something is amiss here. There's the very obvious fact that Naomichi can singlehandedly beat every single person on this list on a 1 on 1 fight (He supplexed Qtaro for crying out loud. No one stands a single chance). However aside from this I do not think it would warrant such a high survival rate.

Think about it for a second. Do you really think, if Naomichi had survived his first trial, that he would've had a good chance of beating the death game? We know from not only his minisode but throughout moments in chapter 3 that he's not the brightest. Obviously he's not dimwitted, but we know from the game that he is rash, quick to action, and easily angered. He does not fully think through his actions before going with them.

Case 1: The Maple Fight

Throughout this fight, we must not physically engage with Maple whatsoever. She is a complete and utter danger to the group, with no current way to defeat her the only option is to reason with her. During the fight, whenever we choose Naomichi to act, we see him agonizing over the fact he just can't straight up fight her. Naomichi is a man of action, we know this as from his minisode and his career as a boxer, he thinks of actions as his way to interact with others and engage in conflict.

That's why at the end of the fight, when Sara is unable to reconcile with Maple and the group is at a complete loss as to what to do, he doesn't think twice to go up and try to crush her head. He reasoned that, since her attacks come from behind her, this close range means he's not in danger. He doesn't stop to consider the fact that she might have another means to attack, or that she could even lock him in a similar move he did her using the black tendrils coming out from her. The entirety of this time he's been itching to just get in and deal with her the way he knows how to, and ultimately pays the consequences for not thinking it through.

Case 2: Revenge against Gruusem

During Naomichi's early career as a boxer, we find that he highly respected and admired Kobushi, the mentor that introduced him to the sport. After witnessing the defeat of his fellow boxer, Naomichi was understandably upset. Although it's after beating the boxer that incapacitated his mentor that something in Naomichi was set off.

Put yourself in Naomichi's place for a moment. You have just defeated the boxer that had brutally beaten the mentor you had looked up to since you were in middle school. A mentor who had teased you about being first rate and second rate fighters, something you've already internalized. A mentor who previously had beaten you and showed you up in power. You have internalized these ideas of being strong and weak for years, and now, just now you are riding the high of a fight and the context of it. You are a hot headed, quick to action punk with adrenaline coursing through your veins and anger deep in your heart.

Naomichi only takes a moment to think, but he does not think over whether he should or shouldn't. He thinks only of his next action. He makes the fight personal and beats Gruusem without a second of hesitation. This goes beyond just being an unsportsmanlike act, this is downright cruel and unjust behavior. Naomichi loses complete control of himself and as a result, completely cripples someone.

Though, it's during this act that we get what convinced me of Naomichi's character and survival rate. The lines that follow him beating Gruusem go as follows.

This kind of line gives me chills, specifically coming from him. Because as of before the episode release, I refused to believe he had the second highest survival rate. And to an extent I still do, but I'll get to that in a moment. What's important here is we finally get to see the unwavering spirit of Naomichi's strive for strength and power. He is fully bought into the line of reasoning that the strong eat the weak, and that by being strong he is in that position of power. This line makes it so interesting that he gets paired with Kanna/Shin, two candidates who are known for their weakness. Additionally, this line implies that he saw himself as weak before, which is why he so urgently and passionately sought the path to strength. If given the right push he would absolutely overpower anyone in his way, hence the nickname Convertible of Destruction. How right this nickname would be.

However, despite having such a strong spirit and me being convinced of his chance in surviving the death game, I still refuse to believe he'd have such a high percent. As proven in my two cases, Naomichi is a rash decision maker. He wouldn't be able to fully rationally think through the schemes and lies other characters would enact. He would respond as he normally would, with action and threats. However, I refuse to believe that he would, if given the chance, get away with fighting and beating the other candidates and participants to incapacity or death. If the Memorandum Theory is to be the route Nankidai is taking, there is no chance Naomichi would've gotten away with violently winning the death game. The death game was set up so intricately and carefully, the floormasters are all there for a reason. Even without considering the Memorandum Theory, it's difficult to think that they'd let him win like this. For as much as Midori endorses a bloodbath of a game, in reality there could be no such case. The death game must be played, the death game must adhere to the strict rules that have been put in place.

Which brings me to my final point. The survival rates for all the participants have been toyed with in some way. This isn't a new idea, as the Memorandum Theory suggests the same thing. I would like to suggest that rather being some sort of interference either with simulations or otherwise, it was a simple case of switching around the rates. There's the possibility of some being deliberately written wrong, but I think it's more likely the case that a few were switched. Given everything I've laid out here and what we know in canon, I personally would assign Naomichi a survival rate starting anywhere from 7% and as low as 5%, so putting him in the range from no higher than Mai Tsurugi and as low as Ranmaru Kageyama.

Of course all this is speculation by now, but in my mind it makes sense. There are a few outliers that help my reasoning with this, but as this is a Naomichi centric post, I'll keep that to their respective analysis. Perhaps when the final part comes out more will come to light and my theory will be entirely proven wrong, but we'll have to wait until then.

[sirdust]

THOUGHTS ON THE FINALE?? bc it was a lot for suuree

| any thoughts on the last 2 episodes??? i sure do have mine i was like wth throughout the whole thing😭 |

apologies for the radio silence 🫡 i've been busy and also not very enthusiastic about discussing this show, lol. been in the process of packing up my autism and moving it over to transformers.

anyways sure i'll give my thoughts.

as my friend who i was watching the eps with said during ep7, "this version of hazbin hotel where women exist is a lot more interesting"

ep7 was probably the most tolerable character-wise even though it suffered from the same general pacing problems that we saw throughout the rest of the season. charlie felt like an actual character who experienced inner turmoil, and while i didn't like "out for love" very much as a song, the sequence itself was solid. carmilla badly needed more presence in the story for how much they treated her as an important character, though.

i'll also say that i think rosie is the most likable character in the show period. she has a cute design and a charismatic personality, and i wish she had shown up earlier. it was weird that she and alastor acted as if they had just reunited when they saw each other in ep3, though.

the final battle was disappointing all around for both obvious and non-obvious reasons. vaggie badly needed a big heroic moment, but she was fighting lute (who simply does not feel like a real threat) for so much of it that her actions during that part of the episode had very little impact. especially since she was the one to figure out how angels can be killed in ep7 (which was admittedly a plot point that did not need to exist, aside from it facilitating charlie and alastor's deal, but i digress).

i also am pretty miffed that charlie only got one or two good hits in on adam before needing to be saved by lucifer. it was like they couldn't decide whether they wanted to do a team-up or to give lucifer a moment showing off how powerful he is to be able to fight adam one-on-one.

i don't know if there's anything for me to say about what they did to pent that hasn't already been said. i doubt he's going to be relevant in s2, but even if he is, i really don't care. it's baffling incompetent to treat a character death as a comedy beat one moment and then dramatic the next. it winds up not making me feel anything at all. (and on a pettier note, i hate his redesign.)

i've never been huge on adam. his character had potential but was continually wasted in favor of being another shallow commentary on toxic masculinity (which is much too prevalent in spindlehorse shows, i'd argue. the issue isn't with the thematic choice but how vapid the execution is). i'm also hung up on the fact that he's clearly meant to look like alex brightman, but the writers have lucifer make a fat joke about his appearance. fatphobia in these shows has always been an elephant in the room but i feel that this crosses some sort of line.

i don't think i have much else to say? i could go more in-depth of course but i'd have to refresh my memory and i don't have the time or desire to rewatch any part of the season right now. i've gotten pretty much all of my gripes with the show as it stands out of my system.

this blog will likely continue to get some use in the future, but i'll probably be increasingly inactive on here. the silver lining of all this is that hazbin's success may, if nothing else, help pave the way for execs greenlighting more queer animation, but we'll have to wait and see. here's to better shows being made in the future though 🥂

ETA: oh and i've been calling twist villain lilith since 2019 but i have nothing else to say about that.

[ipsen]

Blank Canvas 18

Read on AO3. Words: 4886 Summary: Apologies, truth, and Touka's mean right hand. Chapter 17 Chapter 19 Master Post

How could Sen have been so blind?

She had to have slipped up somewhere, but when? How? Did Shachi or Kuzen rat her out? Was there a leak that she hadn’t noticed? Each was its own possibility— Shachi’s heart was too big, Kuzen was a survivor, and she wasn’t exactly sure of everyone she had who was gathering information on V, but there were far more reasons for all not to betray her or Haise. Which only left—

She stopped right before the door to Haise’s apartment.

— Donato. Shit. It was obvious now. Working with that guy, a member of the unpredictable and chaotic Clowns, had always been like navigating a minefield. He was the only one whose interests lay with himself alone, meaning he could be convinced by V. Not even his affection for his son could trump a lifetime of greed. Donato’s alliance with Sen had always been a matter of convenience, where she could exercise his selfish revenge while he was stuck behind bars.

Knock, knock.

However, whatever he’d told V, they ended up going for Haise instead of her, which meant they wanted something. As for what, there were a number of things: her books, her connections, her findings— All were thorns in V’s side, and restricting any would do wonders. But what would they be doing now?

The door opened, revealing Hina. “Hey…” she said, a little uneasily.

“Hi.” Sen kept her voice neutral, not wanting to alarm Hina any more than she already was.

Hina stepped aside. “Um, come in… Hide’s still out, so we’re just waiting.”

Sen stepped through and kicked off her shoes. It was a surprisingly nice and clean apartment, far different from her own. Lots of space, too, what with the kitchen and living room separated by tile and carpet, then what appeared to be two bedrooms and the bathroom in the back. If only she could appreciate it under better circumstances.

Ayato and Touka were sitting on the couch on opposite ends. He, upon seeing Sen, opened his mouth, but Touka beat him to it. “Coffee?” she asked, moving to the kitchen.

Sen, after a moment, nodded. “Sure…”

While Touka searched the cabinets for the kettle and beans, Sen sat in a chair at the counter, feeling Ayato’s eyes on her back. Hina entered the corner of her vision and took a nearby cup of water.

Once upon a time, Sen might not have even shown up here, let alone entertained Hina’s call as long as she had. Time passed, people left, she used to say, especially after Papa’s death and Arima’s transfer. Much how you outgrew things as you got older, people tended to outgrow or outright ignore Sen as she went through the motions of life. That was just how she had seen herself.

But things were different now. Miza and Naki supported her. Tatara and Fei befriended her. Shiono was a caring father. The Bins worked splendidly for her. And Haise was— he was just— he—

Sen sighed, a smile playing on her lips. It seemed as though there were some things even a scribbler like her couldn’t describe. This must be how Haise felt whenever she asked him to express his thoughts about her; though she preened with satisfaction, there was something to his countenance that suggested he had more to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “About the get-together, about what I said— For everything that happened, I’m sorry.”

Hina tittered. “I-It’s really not a problem, Ms. Takatsuki. I think—”

“It is a problem,” she interrupted. “You’ve all known Kuzen for a long time, and it was insensitive of me to trample on that the way I did.”

The kettle began to hiss as the water inside reached a boiling point. Hina thumbed her glass of water. Ayato intentionally looked away, staring at the muted TV. Touka, with practiced ease, ground a handful of coffee beans.

“He’s hurt me a lot, in more ways than one, and I’ve learned he’s— I know he’s hurt others in worse ways.” Sen picked at the hangnails on her fingers. “It felt wrong letting him enter without saying something, so I… Look, I botched it for you guys, and I’m sorry.”

There was silence as Touka poured the coffee. She slid it across the counter to Sen, who took it with a quiet thanks. Ayato glanced over, sensing that she was done, and Hina took a sip of water.

“I…” Hina searched for the right words. “I don’t want to say that you were wrong. You were… You weren’t ready for him to appear when he did, and you were caught off-guard. At least, I think so.” She looked up at Touka to continue.

Touka sighed and put her elbows on the counter. “I’m sure you remember I was next in line for Anteiku’s manager?”

Sen’s mouth became a thin line, and she nodded. She remembered putting two and two together as they talked at the get-together. The way Touka danced around both her aspirations and her job— having to make a choice between them was tearing her up inside far more than Haise made it seem.

“Well, I was also recently accepted into the Chigyou School of Medicine, for their spring term. If I chose to go, and things went awry for Mr. Yoshimura at the wrong time, then Anteiku might very well shut down before I can come back. But if I chose to stay, then I’d be giving up my selfish dreams to keep up the place that helped me and Ayato at our lowest.” Touka traced a circle on the counter, as though she were running back and forth between the two choices.

Sen took a sip of the coffee. It was really good, she had to admit, even without the sugar she personally liked to take. No wonder Touka could be manager, if this was anything to judge it by. Ayato, for his part, pursed his lips at memories she’d never know, but she could take a guess from her own.

Touka suddenly stopped, and pushed herself from the counter. “You took that choice away from me. With what you said, I felt like I had no other option but to take the path that was best for me, and not for Mr. Yoshimura. Because otherwise, I’d be someone willing to play dumb for the sake of feeling good about myself. I’d choose to do nothing.

“Hina’s right; you weren’t wrong, and Mr. Yoshimura shouldn’t have hid his skeletons in his closet from us for as long as he did. However—” Sen grunted when she felt Touka’s fist collide with the side of her arm— “have some class next time, okay?”

“O-Ow…” was all Sen could say.

“Sis and I totally get having beef with shitty dads,” Ayato said from the couch, amusedly watching her nurse her new bruise. “We really do, but she’s right.”

“Always am.” Touka chuckled. “By the way, how’s the coffee? I usually make sure the two oafs that live here have the good beans, but, well— you know.”

Sen smiled through the pain. “It’s good. Really good. I almost feel more guilty.”

Touka smiled back and almost said something else, but just then, the doorbell rang. She went over to answer it, and Hide was revealed. “Welcome back.”

“Hey, guys. You—” He paused when he saw Sen. “Oh. Hey, Sen.”

The corner of her lip curled. “Hide.”

Haise’s famous— or rather, infamous— little source of information along with Chie. An information smuggler that traveled the world and collected dirt on all sorts of organizations that could be taken down a peg or ten. She was honestly shocked by how lucky she was; because of Haise’s little slip-up on how he acquired Donato’s files ahead of her, she was able to piece together the identity of someone who had, until now, kept it completely hidden.

And oh, how Hide knew that she knew. The moment he paused at Nishiki’s, where they met in person for the first time, he had known. The Scarecrow was outed, at last, by sheer dumb luck.

Her smirk faded; much as she wanted to squeeze more information out of one of her most anonymous and valuable sources, there was something far more important at hand. “Do you know where Haise is?” she asked instead.

Hide cleared his throat, appreciating it. “Well, no, but I mean, I brought someone.”

He pushed in a familiar figure on a wheelchair. Frail bones, thin white hair, and gaunt cheeks that clung to their last vestiges of life. He was dressed in familiar black leathers, with a fedora atop his head.

Kuzen Yoshimura, her father, a shell of his former self.

Sen took the time to, finally, really look at him. This barely functioning old man was who she had despised all this time? This… thing in front of her, declining in real time, was the cornerstone of her revenge?

Even then, however, her anger wouldn’t disappear overnight. She doubted it would disappear at all; Kuzen had twisted and altered her circumstances against her will, and even if good came out of them, it was by her hand and not his. She had climbed out of the muck he poured onto her out of spite, and she would do it a thousand times over to remind him of his failures.

And so, she sighed, glared, and asked the obvious question: “Why are you here?”

———

“I-I’m sorry.”

That was not the first thing Haise expected to hear when he came to.

His hands were individually bound to separate chains, and there was a dim light to give him some semblance of his surroundings. He tested out his bonds, and saw a rusty chain mechanism a few paces away struggle against him. His feet were free, at least.

Then, when he looked up, he saw the driver, sitting in a creaky wooden chair. He wasn’t just tall; his limbs were far longer than his torso needed them to be. His hair was a tousled black, with dark circles under his eyes and gaunt cheeks. He wore a loose collared shirt and torn jeans, both colors faded with time.

“H-H-Hey, Mr. Kaneki,” he said, waving. “I’m, uh… I-I’m Karao Saeki.”

Haise didn’t answer immediately, instead darting his gaze around to see if there was anything he’d missed. No such luck. “Where am I?” he asked shakily.

Saeki tittered. “That’s a little, er, c-c-complicated. Y-Y’see, m-my boss—” His phone suddenly rang. “S-Sorry…” He answered. “H-H-Hello? Yes, I have him… N-No, he’s— he’s totally fine!! I-I-I used chloroform…”

Haise listened to the conversation quietly. It seemed that, for now, he was safe; whoever Saeki’s boss was, they needed him alive and unharmed. That was a load off his shoulders, but the next question became: why him? Was there something he knew that they wanted? Was there some one? The possibilities were endless until he could glean something, anything about these people.

Saeki’s conversation continued. “S-So, M-Mr. Kaiko, what should I—?”

‘Kaiko’? As in Kaiko Industries? As in V? Wait, could Haise even make that assumption? If this was V’s doing, then why target him? He was completely useless; wouldn’t it have been better to target Sen? Then again, the idea of Sen in the same situation was worse; he should just be grateful she was (hopefully) free. She could continue her work, continue helping people who deserved help, and not waste her time with people like him: burdens who treated mines like eggshells, never caring for the consequences. She probably— no, she definitely hated his guts now, as she should.

Sen— no, no, Takatsuki had infinitely more important things to think about than him. Hopefully, his drafts of the last few pages were enough; he’d hate to be more of a burden than he already proved himself to be.

Saeki clapped his phone shut and stowed it away. “S-S-Sorry, Mr. Kaneki,” he apologized again. “B-Bosses, right?”

Haise, not wanting to take his chances, decided to nod.

“W-Well! Make yourself c-c-comfortable, because you might be here a w-while…” He twiddled his thumbs.

“Why… Why me…?” Haise asked cautiously.

Saeki flinched slightly. “W-Well, um…” He seemed to grapple with something internally, then relented. “Well, o-okay, you d-d-deserve to know… T-T-To save you from the d-details—”

———

“They promise the safe return of Kaneki,” Kuzen, settled in, said, “once you stop your investigation of them.”

Sen scoffed. “That’s it? That’s all they want?”

Kuzen pursed his lips. “It is an obvious choice, no?”

“Obvious— are you fucking kidding me?” Sen stamped her foot down. “Sacrifice everything that I— that we’ve— worked on these past ten years for— for one person?!” Even as she said it, her heart twisted in agony. “That’s the best they can do, huh? I— I can’t even begin to imagine—!”

“What are you talking about?” Touka interjected, stepping in between them. “You know the people who have Sasaki?”

Ayato came forth. “What the fuck did you get him tied up in?!”

“G-Guys—” Hina began.

“Did they kidnap him because of you?” Touka’s voice shook. “Does he even know about—”

“Touka, Ayato,” Hide stepped in, “let’s take a breather, and—”

“You’re awfully calm about this!!” Touka whirled on him, all but grabbing him by the shirt. “Our best friend has apparently been kidnapped by some— some group we know nothing about, and the reason might be right in front of us! Why aren’t you—!”

“I just think that antagonizing Sen isn’t the play here.” He put up his hands in defense. “Look, we’re all in this together to try and find him, so—”

“So you’re just gonna let her keep secrets from us?! Real good ‘working together’, pal! Are you fucking—”

“I’ll talk!” Sen said, turning all eyes on her. “I’ll talk… You deserve to know.”

She carefully left out the part about Hide being the Scarecrow, but laid out the basics of V, as well as her and the others’ involvement in exposing their deeds. Kuzen hung his head slightly the further she went, especially when she mentioned Ukina. It was a small consolation prize.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Touka muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, so a secret government lobbyist organization, who works with serial killers, has Sasaki because you—” she jabbed a finger at Sen— “are getting too close to ‘exposing’ them?”

Sen nodded stiffly. “Yeah.”

“You realize how stupid that sounds, right?” Ayato complemented Touka. “Just ‘cause you broke some laws, he’s gonna pay?”

Another nod. “Yeah.”

Hina was the only one who didn’t seem phased when she spoke. “Ms. Takatsuki… Are you going to stop?” was all she asked.

Sen curled her fingers into a fist. “I… I can’t stop,” she said, wanting her tongue to betray her just this once. “I’ve… We’ve come too far to stop now.” She trembled. “I won’t— I can’t choose him, even if I want to.”

And she did, desperately so. She wanted to choose Haise over everything and contradict her own words. Her lungs longed to cry out in protest, to throw everything away for him, because now that she’d felt the warmth of the sun, she wanted to bask in it forever.

But there were people besides her who were a part of the investigation, and they were people who put so much on the line. Now it was her turn. Ugh, she was the worst.

She bowed her head as low as it could go, as if it would absolve her of her sins. “I’m sorry.”

Silence, as her decision hung in the air and everyone digested it. It was likely that none of them would ever see Haise again. That lovely person, full of boundless kindness, would be forever lost to the world. No one would ever see him smile, laugh, or cry ever again.

Touka reacted first. She walked up to Sen, pulled her up by the collar of her shirt, and punched her square in the jaw, knocking her to the ground.

“Touka!” Kuzen shouted as best he could, but it went ignored.

Ayato and Hide had to grab her by both her arms before she could advance. Hina, meanwhile, helped Sen up and checked for lasting injuries.

“Fuck V,” Touka breathed. “But fuck you too. I don’t care what the hell you’ve ‘discovered’ or whatever, but you don’t just give up like that, you hear me?!”

Sen, leaning on Hina, massaged her second bruise for the day. “It isn’t that,” she muttered.

“Then what is it?!” Touka ripped herself out of Ayato and Hide’s grasp. “Don’t you care about Sasaki?! Don’t you— Why are you just letting him go?!”

Sen bit her lip, trying not to tremble.

“That look on your face makes me sick, you know that?” Tears welled in Touka’s eyes. “Thinking you’re making the right choice, that this is all for some ‘greater good’, and maybe it is! Maybe, if you let Sasaki die, we’ll all eventually be in a better place, but I—!” She raised her fist again, but let it hang at her side instead. “I don’t care. I won’t care until we try something else.”

It was a pretty thought; when you didn’t like your choices, force a new one that did. However, Sen had made her choice years ago: she would fight. And whenever you fought, blood would spill. The blood of the innocent, the blood of the guilty, and worst of all, the blood of your loved ones.

She simply hadn’t realized how much the latter would hurt. “Say we did try something. What would we try? Where would we even start?” She hated the question as soon as it left her lips. “We don’t even know who—”

“He is with the Torso,” Kuzen suddenly said.

It was like dropping a bomb. The name hovered in the air, taunting all who recognized it. Hina’s eyes widened in horror. Hide, Ayato, and Touka swallowed. Sen thought she’d heard incorrectly. Did Kuzen— did he really just—

“He is with the Torso,” he repeated, his grip on his armrest like iron. “I do not know where, but… that is who is with him.”

“Torso…?” The word was practically foreign on her lips. “He’s with the…?”

“He’s with the Torso…” Hide mumbled, putting a hand on the side of his head. Suddenly, he gasped. “H-He's with the Torso!!”

“Uh…” Touka looked mystified.

Sen, instead of explaining, joined Hide with the same realization. “Yes… Yes, he is!!” She laughed, her heartbeat picking up with hope and her stomach flipping. “The Torso!!!”

They jumped up and down together, cheering and whooping and confusing everyone else.

Ayato palmed his face. “Are we just gonna be lost all day?”

Sen ignored him and grabbed Hide by the shoulders. “Nashiro. Did Nashiro leave anything behind? Please tell me she—”

“She did.” Hide nodded enthusiastically. “All of his hiding spots, every single one!!”

“Um, excuse me!” Hina got their attention. “What’re you two talking about?”

“We’ll explain later,” Sen said, pulling out her phone. “But right now— Ayato, call Tatara and tell him we need men. Hide, give him the addresses; he’ll understand. I’ll get Miza, Naki, and the Bins.” She called the first of their numbers. “Miza? Miza, it’s Sen. I’m sorry, I know you’re busy— really, I know— but I need a favor—”

According to Nashiro’s final investigation, Torso had a number of hideouts spread across the 13th and 23rd wards. Tatara and his members of Chì Shé would cover the ones in the latter, while the former fell to Sen and the others. But there were still some places that needed to be covered.

“Is there anyone else that could help us?” Sen asked. “We need tough people, able to kill a man.”

Touka, who caught on quickly, snapped her fingers. “Apes & Dobers! I’ll call Kaya.”

“Great! Hide?”

Hide scrambled for his phone. “Kimi’s got a few rowdy volunteers; they’d break the law!”

“Hina?”

“I’ve, um… I could see if Mr. Banjou knows anyone!”

Calls were made, groups were assembled, and addresses were passed around— all in service of finding one artist who, apparently, could move mountains without even trying.

Then, just before she left, Sen glanced at Kuzen one last time. “Hey.”

Hesitating, he looked up at her.

“Thanks.”

She didn’t stay to see his reaction.

———

The next few days were spent in an odd cross between dread and comfort. Even in the face of his inevitable doom, Haise couldn’t complain about how he was being treated. The chains on his wrists weren’t going to come off anytime soon, but he was given limited space to roam until mealtime.

As for Saeki, he was a strange man. He didn’t talk much, but Haise sort of preferred it that way. He’d never been one to converse with strangers, especially if said strangers were working for lobbyists with a penchant for kidnapping and killing anyone who disagreed with them. Less talking usually meant less trouble, and it was paying off.

However, despite being fed regularly and never being touched, Haise knew it was only a matter of time before he was killed. Takatsuki wouldn’t come for him; he would have to try to escape himself. The problem was that he didn’t even know where to start. Besides some beams holding up the ceiling, he had nothing he could grab.

Then, one day, things changed.

Saeki came in at the expected time, but there was no meal in his hands. Instead, he made straight for the chain and yanked on it. Haise was forced against the wall, then secured when Saeki slotted a rusted nail into the chain.

When he stood over Haise, the neutral politeness he had exerted in both the taxi cab and over the past few days was gone. Haise swallowed.

“Y-Y-You knew,” Saeki seethed, teeth gritted, “didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Haise was confused. He knew something? What did he supposedly—

Saeki’s foot suddenly plunged into his stomach, evacuating all of the air from his lungs.

“Y-YOU KNEW, D-DIDN’T YOU?!” Saeki repeated, much louder this time. “You sick fucking freak— you knew! YOU KNEW!!!”

There was a scene in The Metamorphosis that suddenly came to mind. Gregor, having been locked away for some time after his transformation, left his room and incidentally frightened his mother, causing her to faint. Because of that, Gregor’s father stood over him, much like how Saeki stood over Haise now. After a moment, Gregor’s father pelted Gregor with fruits, with one of them lodging permanently in Gregor’s backside and beginning his spiral into useless, wretched death.

When Saeki kicked Haise again, he felt his kinship with Gregor renewed.

Haise gasped for breath. “What… What are you…?”

“About ^%*’s scars!! You knew she had them!!” Saeki kicked him twice more, hitting the solar plexus with deadly precision. “M-M-Mr. Kaiko told me!! So why didn’t— why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you keep that away from me?!”

Takatsuki’s scars? How had Saeki found out about that? She was always so careful about concealing them; she’d only ever shown them to him, as far as he knew… Had she lied to him? Had she simply pitied him and shared an open secret? Just his luck, and just like him. Always ignorant to others, and only thinking of himself.

Still, in the face of that ugly truth, he fought for his life. “I… I didn’t know…”

“LIAR!!” Another kick, this one to his head. White flashed across his vision. He thought he heard something crack. “YOU’RE A MAN, AND SHE’S A WOMAN!!! WHAT ELSE CAN YOU DO BUT LOVE HER?! WHY WOULDN’T SHE TELL YOU?!”

Another kick, then another. The face, the chest, the diaphragm, the legs, his face. It was a familiar feeling. Haise couldn’t even begin to decipher why this was happening, not with his head throbbing and breath straining as they were. As the assault continued with no end in sight, Haise shrank away, and Ken Kaneki, a small and pathetic child, rose back to the surface.

His ears rang. His jaw was sore. His head throbbed, pounding and deafening the room with pain.

Kaneki remembered begging for his mother, his aunt, and his uncle to stop, but they wouldn’t, and so he stopped begging. Stopped asking. Stopped being selfish. He patiently endured the slew of words thrown at him, existing to be hurt so that they could stop hurting. He was alone, and so he endured alone.

“I-I-I’ll teach you a f-fucking lesson!!!” Saeki yanked Kaneki up by his hair, making him yelp. “T-T-Teach you to— to KEEP ME FROM MY PRIZE!!”

He slammed Kaneki into the wall, forcing the nail in the chains loose. Kaneki’s world spun from the impact, but he definitely heard Saeki’s last claim.

Takatsuki was going to be his next victim, which meant this was—

“Shit, shit…” Torso muttered as the nail rolled uselessly on the floor. “S-S-Stupid thing, c-can’t even stay on right…”

Kaneki, slumped against the wall, looked up as Torso fiddled with the nail.

Tragedy was a thing born of inaction— The hero succumbing to their flaw instead of overcoming it; a poison being allowed to spread in a lake until it is wholly undrinkable; a small group of greedy people seizing power and then treating people like toys. Over and over, as a result of ignorance, arrogance, and bystanding, tragedy struck like a knife.

Torso pulled on the chain and tried to put the nail back in, but he dropped it and swore.

Kaneki’s thoughts turned to Takatsuki, as they so often did. Specifically, they turned to her stories. Though dense at first glance, he’d come to realize that not only were they deeply personal works, but they were also warnings. Warnings of inaction, warnings of standing by and doing nothing.

After this, whenever it was over and Kaneki was dead on the floor, Torso would leave and pursue her. She’d end up just like Nashiro, Mr. Yasuhisa, and Ryouko. Another notch on V’s belt, next to thousands upon millions of others. For each one, Kaneki had been helpless to stop, always at mercy of the great flow they forced upon others.

Torso secured the nail, tested it a few times, then cheered in triumph.

Ka— Haise wouldn’t allow it. He would protect Sen, no matter what. If he was going to die for her to win the fight against V, he would take any of her enemies down with him. It was the one thing he could do, the one thing he should do.

“N-Now,” Torso stood over him, raising his fist, “w-w-where was I…?”

Haise curled up against the wall like a cornered animal: wounded, afraid—

The nail snapped in two.

— and unpredictable.

.

.

.

The human jaw, supposedly, is able to exert up to 125 kilograms of force.

“FUCK!!!” Torso screeched, and stumbled backward with one hand clutched to his head.

More than enough to tear the human ear off.

“F-FUCK… FUCK!!! Y-Y-Y-YOU BIT ME?! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!”

With all the strength he could muster, Haise grabbed whatever parts of Saeki he could. Cheeks, ears, throat— anything to cause pain, anything to cause death. Even as Haise’s wrists burned themselves on his wrist, he had to do this. He had to kill Torso because it was the last thing he could do. He would die, and Sen would be free. He would help her, he would—

However, it was a brief encounter. One moment, Haise was reaching for Saeki. The second, he saw a flash of silver from the corner of his vision. The last, he felt unbearable pain crossed from one of his temples to the next. His vision went dark, and he collapsed on his side.

“Bastard… BASTARD!!!”

What happened? Why did it suddenly go dark?!

Why couldn’t  he see?!

“The last thing he saw was the door of his room being pulled open, his sister was screaming, his mother ran out in front of her in her blouse—”

Something wet tickled his cheek. A liquid. What kind of liquid? Something smelled metallic. Something sweet. Like honey. Was honey supposed to be like lava?

“W-Wait… Sh-Sh-Shit! Shit shit shit! Did I—?! Oh, no no nonono—” Saeki’s footsteps stumbled out of the room. There was rummaging in a distant room. “B-B-Bandages, bandages—! Can’t let the hostage die—!”

“Aah… Augh…!”

Stumbling again as Saeki returned. “C’mon, pick up pick up pick up—! PICK THE FUCK UP!!!”

“— stumbling over the skirts she pushed herself to his father, her arms around him, uniting herself with him totally—”

“H-H-Hello?! Mr. Kaiko?!?! Hello, hi!!! I-I-I need bandages sent, r-r-right now!”

“— now Gregor lost his ability to see anything—”

“Treatment, medicine, a-a-anything! I-I-I’ve made a mistake; I’ve damaged him! B-By accident!!! BY ACCIDENT PLEASE!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

“H-H-H-He bit my ear off, okay?! I-I-I panicked!!! Shit— Please, please, I just—”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU!!!”

He couldn’t see oh no he couldn’t see he couldn’t see he couldn’t draw he’d never see Sen again and

he was as good as useless she was going to leave he was going to be alone it was his fault

“— her hands behind his father’s head—”

how could he—

A crashing sound. Familiar, light footsteps, like a storm breaking through the windows and doors. Saeki’s voice.

“WH-WH-WHO—?!”

“— begging him to spare Gregor’s life.”

[bringerofdeathandtheapocolypse]

I genuinely haven't decided if I'm going to have Makarov be dead or not in the Alvarez arc.

Because I hate that they brought him back so long after his death because it makes his sacrifice feel so cheap.

And I honestly want someone else to be guild master at this point. Like I would say the three potential best options at the point the series is at would be Erza, Mira or Laxus and I'm going to explain why.

To start with, I do not think pre tenrou Laxus should be guild master. He was an asshole that refused to help his guild in the phantom war unless Lucy slept with him, he attacked one of his own teammates when Freed told him they had lost and while it didn't hit, it was close, beat Gajeel up way worse than Jet and Droy did and likely would have done so until he'd killed Gajeel if Jet and Droy hadn't told him to stop and did try to attack them and he willingly put the entire town in danger so that he wouldn't have to admit he'd lost after Evergreen was beat and have his ego bruises. He was not a good person and needed to be taught a lesson.

However, post Tenrou Laxus is a different story. He's a lot less full of himself and doesn't look down on his guildmates. I honestly would say his fight against Ivan is the completion of that character arc because he fights his own father to defend his guild, putting them above his own blood, something he likely would not have done for anyone aside for the thunder legion pre tenrou. He also in tartarous, takes in far more of the bane particals in hopes of saving the towns people and risks his own life to get Tempestar's blood(in the anime) so that Yajima and the thunder legion could survive.

Laxus, as of 100 years quest, can be considered a good successor for the next guild master because he is more likely to continue the legacy Mavis wanted for the guild.

Mira is also a good option in that she likely knows a lot about the job, being the second in command from how she's always the one people talk to about guild based things if Makarov isn't around. She's also no push over and would probably not let someone like pre tenrou Laxus get away with the things that he did. She's definetly not as strong as she used to, after all she hasn't been consistently fighting for years but I don't think strength is what matters in being guild master. At least not for Fairy tail.

And Erza is an obvious member of the list since she was listed as the 7th guild master so she would make sense to be an option.

But the reason I'm torn with having Makarov die or not is because (without getting into spoilers) I already have a lot of canon divergence planned for the Alvarez arc(something which seems to occur more and more as the arcs go on).

Like I already have the most basic plot beats laid out for the later arcs, its just certain aspects surrounding them that are shifting around as I decide which idea is the best one to pick for those arcs. I've already been putting foreshadowing in the rewrite for a while, some that might be more obvious than others and some I really doubt anyone would think "Oh that's important" when first seeing it (I am not going to mention what aspects are the foreshadowing or when it started because again, spoilers and I am so excited to put the new stuff out once the rewrite is done and I don't want to give too much away for the plans I have)

And while I have no problem going extremely off canon in the au at all, there are just certain things where I'm like "Ok but would this benefit from having Makarov be dead or alive"

I'll probably have the answer once I get to the Alvarez arc in like 5 years (Jokes aside, I don't think it will take me 5 years to get there but this book is going to be long. Its already at 108 chapters with the rewrite putting it over 300 pages in the pdf I keep and I'd say its like halfway done. Because despite there being more arcs pre tenrou than post, I still consider Tenrou the midway point and I have the KOTSH, GMG, Tartarous and Alvaraz arcs to cover once the midway is done and post tenrou, even the canon version of the arcs start getting long.

I also swear I'll have the current arc finished soon. I always just take breaks between arcs just because it takes so long to write them and then the editing is a long process.

[seawolvesanddragons]

AWAE 12 Days of Christmas - Day Three

(All 12 posts will be missing scenes come from my Anne with an E Hogwarts AU fic.) 

Anne learns about Ravenclaw’s Diadem. Naturally, this calls from a quest. 

(Barry House - second year) 

“Diana,” Ruby asked, staring out the windows into the Barry’s garden. “What is your sister doing?” 

Diana and Anne looked up from the pie crust. Minnie May was holding a stone up to the sky, dramatically orating. 

“I HAVE CONQUERED DEATH!” 

“Oh, she’s just going through a phase,” Diana shrugged. “I’ve been reading the Tale of the Three Brothers to her - she’s obsessed with the resurrection stone.” 

“What’s a resurrection stone?” Anne said, curiosity peaked. “I’ve never heard of one.” 

“It’s not real, Anne,” Diana said. “The resurrection stone, the elder wand - these are just legends, like the Philosopher's stone or the diadem of Ravenclaw.” 

The rolling pin went clattering to the floor. 

“Ravenclaws had a diadem?!” 

*

“But Marilla, surely you must know something. You’re a head of house!” Anne pleaded. 

“Yes, of Hufflepuff!” Marilla said. “I never had much reason to think about some lost crown of Ravenclaw.”

“It’s called a diadem, Marilla, so much more romantic-”

“And even if I were head of Ravenclaw,” Marilla continued firmly. “I would have much more important things to do than worry about a long lost diadem that is probably not even real.”

Anne stilled, her eyes narrowing. “You said it probably isn’t real.” 

“Anne-”

“As in it might be real.” 

“Anne, for Boleyn’s sake-”

“I’m going to find it,” Anne decided. 

“Anne no - Anne get back here!” 

*

(Library, third year) 

“So according to Rowena’ Ravenclaw’s biography, Rowena Ravenclaw denied the diadem being stolen but it was never seen at least a decade before her death-” 

“I don’t care Anne.” 

“During which Ravenclaw resided at Hogwarts as a teacher. She rarely left the grounds, even for her ancestral home. Which means-”

“Anne, please, we’re trying to work-” 

“The diadem is mostly likely here at Hogwarts!” 

“Anne - wait what?” Jerry looked up from his herbology textbook. “I thought it didn’t exist?” 

“Just because something is lost doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!” Anne said excitedly. 

“No, but it makes it far less likely to,” Cole pointed out. “I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with the diadem anyway.” 

“It’s said to increase the wisdom of anyone who wears it,” Anne said. “Besides, it’s the mystery of it all! A lost relic, as valuable as any treasure, hidden away in the folds of time, somewhere in a magical castle...it’s positively thrilling!” 

“Do you really think you can find it?” Jerry asked, shoving the herbology text aside. “I mean, other people must have looked.”

“Diana said people searched for centuries after she died, but none of them ever got close. According to legend, Ravenclaw’s own final letter to Helga Hufflepuff supposedly held a clue, but it was never deciphered.” 

“Anne,” Cole said. “You know I know you’re brilliant. But if centuries of witches and wizards couldn’t supposedly break this code and find the diadem, what makes you think you can?” 

“Simple,” Anne said. “They were all thinking like wizards. But Rowena Ravenclaw was a half-blood. I think the key to all this is to approach it like a muggle.

“I’m in,” Jerry announced. “What?” Jerry asked when Cole shook his head. “I’m bored. And I love beating purebloods at their own game.” 

*

(Courtyard, 4th year) 

“Go over it again,” Diana said. “We’re missing something obvious, I can feel it.” 

“Indeed I have found, my dearest Helga, that the mantle of time hangs heavily around me, our own lights dimming as our students flare ever more brightly. Perhaps Godric was right, and our own age is coming to a close. All we can hope is that the legacy we have planted here blooms as a more prosperous, safer age for our people . Already wisdom lies with the seed.” Anne tapped the book. “After that it turns to discussion of Helga’s birthday. I suppose the code could be in that section.” 

“Let’s go one paragraph at a time,” Diana said. “That way we can keep track of what we know.” 

Half an hour later, they were still stuck. 

“Are you sure it isn’t a revealing charm?” 

“Witches and wizards would have already tried that,” Anne sighed, closing the book. She gazed at the cover. Correspondence of the Hogwarts Founders. The cover was illustrated with a portrait of the four founders together. Anne traced Rowena’s face with her thumb. She looked oddly familiar; Anne could have sworn she had seen her before. She just couldn’t remember where. It was infuriating. 

“What are your secrets?” Anne whispered. 

“Well, we learned one thing. Rowena Ravenclaw really liked metaphors,” Jerry said. “Fire, planting, seeds...she is a flowery as you Anne.” 

“Flowers...seeds....Jerry you’re a genius!” Anne declared. 

*

(Corridor, 5th year) 

“Cole,” Anne appeared out of nowhere, grabbing his arm. “You’ll never believe it. We think we found it!” 

“And by it you mean...” Cole raised an eyebrow. 

“The diadem!” 

“You’re still on about that?” Cole asked. “I thought you gave up years ago.” 

“Never,” Anne shook her head. “Come on, Diana and Jerry are meeting us by the old greenhouses. We’re about to make history!” She set off down the corridor, dragging Cole with her. 

“I already have a bad feeling about this.” 

(Marilla’s office, 5th year Later that evening.) 

“My bad feeling was totally correct, by the way,” Cole muttered to no one in particular. No one answered. Jerry, Anne and Diana were far more focused on the irate pacing form of Marilla. 

“You could have burned the entire structure down Anne, honestly what were you thinking...”

“I’m sorry Marilla, truly I am, but we had found Rowena’s old letters and-” 

“Of course,” Marilla’s nostrils flared. “I should have known. This is about that diadem isn’t it?” 

Anne nodded sheepishly. 

“And she dragged you three into this?” Marilla demanded of the rest of the group. 

“Literally,” Cole said. He felt no qualms about throwing the rest of them into the dragon’s path for this. He had just been trying to walk to dinner. 

Diana and Jerry just shrugged. “We volunteered.” 

“Merlin almighty,” Marilla closed her eyes briefly. 

[bookishjules]

Just finished listening to the Summer I Turned Pretty Trilogy...

Honestly don't recommend lol

[redphlox]

Dabi's fear of feelings and connections

Dabi is a walking contradiction; he says he doesn't care about anyone, but his flames, which are linked to his emotions, demonstrate otherwise when Twice is killed. Dabi brushes off the news that Natsuo could have died because of him but still refers to him affectionately as Natsu-kun. Touya went around calling Endeavor out for neglecting his children but still trained to regain his approval and attention anyway. He lashed out at baby Shouto, admitted Shouto had done nothing wrong, and then attacked him again years later. He cries blood while thinking about his family but doesn't go home to them or change his actions which hurt them even more. Dabi wants to destroy hero society for a better future but it's obvious he doesn't plan to live long enough to see that future.

The gaps between his actions and his words are a result of dissociation and repression. It's not that Dabi is emotionless. Actually, he feels too much and he's afraid of his feelings because they've done nothing but hurt him emotionally and physically. He literally almost burned to death the one time he had a burst of emotion on Sekoto Peak and in order to prevent a repeat of that, he operates under the flawed notion that safety lies in repressing his feelings and pushing people away. He lies to himself and others and therefore cannot reconcile with his true self and can’t trust others.

In this meta I'll discuss how Dabi deals with his unprocessed feelings of betrayal and neglect by denying himself connections with both his inner wounded child and those around him. I'll also address a few misconceptions surrounding Dabi because dismantling them is key to understanding him. Contrary to popular belief, he does not want to kill his father, he never wanted to be a hero for his own sake, and he doesn't hate Shouto or his family. At its core, Touya's hurt stems from discovering that his relationship with his father wasn't based on unconditional love. This realization destroyed his sense of self so much it caused him to start fearing his own feelings and being close to others because of the link between his emotions and his self-destructive quirk.

To understand Dabi we have to understand Touya. In 291 we see through Endeavor's flashback that Touya was eager to train under him and carry his legacy. It's implied by the fact they’re working on ultimate moves that not only is Touya a willing, eager participant but that the two have been training together for quite some time. In 301 we learn that after Touya's quirk started hurting him Endeavor not only abandoned the training regime but also abandoned Touya both emotionally and physically. Instead of using the time he spent training Touya to help Touya find a new hobby or purpose in life, or just hanging out with his kid, Endeavor chooses to remove himself from Touya’s life. When Touya confronts him about the change of routine, Endeavor is seen putting on his jacket and leaving the home, his body turned away from his son.

Maybe Endeavor had errands to run, but my point is that he was in Touya’s life one minute and then gone the next. Touya says so himself: why did Endeavor change his mind all of a sudden? The abrupt change in attitude was jarring for a 4-5 year old to handle. To Touya, training = love, so he felt compelled to keep training and demonstrate his worthiness despite the fact that his quirk was hurting him. To Touya, the pain was worth it if it meant hanging out with his dad again.

But why? Well, Touya was Endeavor's #1 fan, genuinely so. His admiration and fondness for his father was genuine, and he didn't question the triumphant look on Endeavor's face when Touya said he wanted to learn the ultimate move. Before his quirk started burning him, Touya had no idea he was born for his father's ulterior motives. He had no reason to question his father's attention. Touya lived under the impression his bond with his dad was genuine and special, and he probably felt lucky that his father was willing to share something so important to him (heroism). Even after the training stops and Endeavor stops paying attention to Touya, Touya still wears his merch and vies for his attention. Most kids see their parents as larger than life and Touya was no exception. Keigo Takami admired Endeavor the hero, and Touya Todoroki admired his father who just so happened to be the hero Endeavor. Since being a hero was such a big deal for Endeavor, it was a big deal for Touya.

But that's where Touya's story becomes tragic. His father is a flawed, flawed man with many insecurities and fallacies that he pushes onto his family. I’ll get to those in a moment, but as intelligent and observant Touya is to catch on that Endeavor never set out to marry to become a father, he is too young to separate himself from his father’s expectations. Touya realizes he was born for a purpose and Touya will be damned if he doesn't fulfill that purpose even if he knows it's wrong. His father's ‘love’ meant that much to him. For Touya, it's not about becoming a hero for the glory. It was about his relationship with his father because, as I mentioned earlier, Touya was his #1 fan in the sense that he loved Enji just for being his dad. There were no conditions tied to that. “You are my dad, and I love you.”

But that wasn’t a sentiment that Touya felt in return, and that hurt Touya. He internalized he wasn't good enough, that something about him was inherently wrong. But more than that, his world came tumbling down - he felt betrayed and lied to: his father didn't love him like Touya needed him to, and this truth destroyed him. Their relationship was a lie, a farce, and it hurt so much Touya became obsessed with not hurting anymore because he couldn’t get away from it.

Touya’s motivation to become a hero didn't rise from being inspired by All Might like Shouto. Touya’s thought process wasn’t "I want to be a hero to help others or be like All Might" like Deku. No, Touya only wanted to be a hero because he wanted his father to be proud of him for surpassing All Might. Notice that Touya's obsession with beating All Might slowly diminishes from “I can surpass All Might” to “I can surpass All Might like Shouto, too” to just “look at me, Endeavor.” It was never about being a hero per say, but about his relationship with his father. Touya realized that Endeavor isn't his father first, but a hero, and he understands that he has to be a hero too to fit into his father's world. Even upon realizing that his father was using him, Touya still wanted to be part of his life, still wanted that bond. Touya, in his desperation to be loved and accepted again, could look past his father's selfishness as long as he regained that approval. Touya could pretend the relationship was real as long as he stopped feeling so unlovable.

This is unhealthy thinking, of course. Even if Touya somehow managed to regain Endeavor's approval, the relationship would still be one-sided and dissatisfying because he wouldn't be able to ignore the truth. But, this is how he rationalized his insistence to keep training in his 4-5 year old mind and this line of thought stuck with him as he grew up just as those feelings of inadequacy never left him.

This is precisely why Natsuo's drowsy "can't you go talk to our sister?" hurt so much. Touya was already emotionally fragile, and hearing that felt like being rejected all over again when it was actually Natsuo just trying to sleep. Touya was hypersensitive to any words or actions that could be interpreted as dismissive. His trauma wouldn't listen to logic that Natsuo was 8 and too young to understand, that he was tired - no, Touya's brain said, you're being rejected again! This is also why he also stormed away crying from Fuyumi after she expressed her concern for him.

In Touya’s mind, why couldn't anyone just agree with him that he was good enough? He heard "your dad's right and you're not good enough so why try" not "I care about you, your father is wrong, and I don't want you to keep getting hurt" whenever Rei tried to get him to stop training because that's the message he got from his father, too. Nevermind that it infuriated Touya that his mother could stand there and preach to him when, from his perspective, she couldn’t take her own advice. All Endeavor ever did was teach him to turn up the heat, so why should it matter that doing just so hurts him? Touya didn't understand NOT training his quirk because he had been taught that raising his firepower was ideal in all situations. Those two statements didn't make sense to a 4-5 year old, a 13 year old, and it still doesn’t make sense as a 24 year old.

To take Endeavor's lack of self awareness a step further, because it's important to understand Endeavor to fully understand Dabi, Endeavor has yet to realize his own inherent worth. He doesn't have to prove anything to his family, especially his kids. They love him unconditionally, without special reason aside from the fact that he's theirs and he's himself. However, Endeavor is so obsessed with proving himself that he doesn't realize he never had to, and he projects this onto his children. They must prove themselves by winning the genetic lottery, by being useful to his plans, by surpassing All Might.

The irony that to be a great father he doesn't have to be a hero at all is ugly because Endeavor has no identity outside of being a hero. Endeavor has said before he wants to be a good hero and father to make Shouto proud, but he fails to realize he already had this in Touya all those years ago and it still left him unsatisfied. The issue isn’t his role as a hero, it’s his inner self. In 301 Endeavor literally reaches out to Touya to talk him out of training and hurting himself, and Touya allows his father to touch his shoulders because he wants a bond with his father - any bond. Shouto, on the other hand, wouldn't allow Endeavor to touch him in 167 and slaps his hand away because he doesn’t want Endeavor’s approval. Endeavor doesn't realize Natsuo carries deep abandonment and neglect issues because he wanted to be accepted by his father too (light novel #5) but was ignored. Endeavor doesn't realize he was always good enough by default and that by projecting onto his kids and trying to be the top hero he’s doing the opposite of what he wants. He just keeps pushing away his family.

It’s important to point out Endeavor’s illogical thinking because Touya learned some of these same ideas. Touya repeatedly tries to prove himself without realizing that he was always good enough by default. The problem wasn’t his quirk or his body, but his father’s flawed thinking and self-worth issues. Now as an adult, Dabi is selfish because he's Endeavor's son and emobidies his most negative characteristics. Dabi thinks of his flames as Endeavor's, and he thinks of himself as an extension of Endeavor because that's how Endeavor set him up for life. Touya has no identity to fall back on after his father casts him aside. He was supposed to be Endeavor 2.0, but now that title is Shouto’s. Dabi doesn’t hate Shouto as a person, but he has tricked himself into believing Shouto is their father’s puppet. Shouto is a doll being used by their father with no self agency, and Dabi is going to break all of Endeavor’s toys. It’s nothing personal against Shouto, it’s just Shouto’s bad luck that he happens to be Endeavor’s masterpiece. This is why Dabi doesn’t hurt Shouto when they first meet at the training camp, and why Dabi stops attacking Shouto after Endeavor passes out - it’s not about Shouto. It’s about Endeavor, and breaking Endeavor. Touya is still there trying to be part of his father’s world, only this time not as a hero but as a villain who will end his own suffering. He doesn't want Endeavor to die, he just wants him to suffer, to ruin his dreams. Dabi thinks of it as justice.

But because Touya is still there, there is still that goodness in him, too. His connection to Fuyumi and Natsuo is still there, repressed and compartmentalized. It’s why he calls them affectionately as Fuyumi-chan and Natsu-kun. Touya’s pain is so great he has decided he’d rather end it than to carry on and look elsewhere. He's stuck, rightfully so. He recognizes his mother is a flawed person and ultimately doesn’t blame her for being a victim - she could have done more for her son, but he still sees her and his other siblings, even Shouto, as people who fell victim to Endeavor’s abuse who don't challenge their situation. Dabi sees himself as someone who does stand up to the abuse but doesn’t realize he still wants his father’s attention. He's always wanted it. That's why he went around at 13 condemning his father's treatment of his children but still trained to prove himself. This is part of the reason he became a villain.

Not to mention that Dabi literally can't cry. He has no way to release those emotions, so instead of trying to let them out, he pushes them down. But that doesn't work and is detrimental in the long run. In 290-294 we saw Dabi's flames burn so hot during his confrontation with Endeavor and revealing himself as Touya that his burns have spread. Dabi is afraid of his feelings because of their connection to his flames, but he also uses his feelings to his advantage. He wants to go out in an inferno along with Shouto just to hurt Endeavor and put an end to his own suffering and Endeavor's career. This is why Dabi doesn't bother calming himself down or denying that he never forgot how he was treated when he lived at home. Dabi became emotional in that battlefield, smiling maniacally instead of crying because he physically can't cry. In his mind, if his feelings are going to destroy him, he might as well use them to prove a point. After all, he has experience being used. It's why he was born.

I'm not saying any of these actions or thoughts are healthy or correct or condoned, by the way. Trauma responses don't make logical sense and usually aren't healthy. Knowing how the mind responds to trauma, it's understandable that Touya still wanted his father's attention even if it was abusive. In fact, this is how children often respond to abuse. Their caretaker/parent is all they know and they cling to these figures. Often times when authorities try to remove a child from their abusive parents, the child doesn't want to go because this parent is all they know and they do feel like they love their parent/caretaker. I’m not saying the authorities got involved in this case, because obviously they didn’t, but this same mentality of abused children can be applied to Touya. Touya, in his four year old mind, probably convinced himself that if he was good enough everything would go back to how it used to be.

So, to sum up Dabi’s character, of course he doesn't make any sense. He’s still that hurt 4-5 year old who is trying to protect himself from ever getting hurt like that again while still wanting his father’s validation. Of course he doesn’t want to get close to anyone, not even the League. He doesn't want to be vulnerable or let people in or form connections because the last time that happened he was let down, forsaken, and it hurt so much it literally made him lose control of his quirk to the point he almost died. When Twice is killed, Dabi consoles himself by saying he didn't care anyway, all to prevent another emotional fire. Dabi is a master of compartmentalizing and boxing away his feelings - this is probably why, 310 chapters into BNHA, we have yet to have a few chapters in his POV or his backstory. He's disconnected from himself. He knows his plot to get justice will hurt his siblings and mother and to live with himself and move forward he represses those feelings.

Because of his father not showing up on Sekoto peak, Dabi has to live with physical disabilities due to his scars and memories of burning alive. He doesn't want to go through that again so he lies to himself that he doesn't care about anyone or anything. He denies that he's still in pain while simultaneously seeking validation of his pain. He acts like he doesn't care about his family but still calls them affectionate names. He acts like he hates Endeavor and calls him by his name but still wants his attention. He decided long ago that he would die destroying Endeavor's career because that was the thing Endeavor cares about most of all in this life. It's a "you hurt me so I'll hurt you" mentality. He has tricked himself into thinking this is justice, failing to realize this won't make him feel better if he doesn't die by his own hand along the way.

Dabi is full of resentment and spite, both of which take root from feelings of abandonment, betrayal, and the loss of a purpose and the realization that he wasn't born to be loved for who he was but as a tool for his father. The first betrayal he suffered was in the form of realizing his father didn't love him genuinely, and this was identity-breaking for him. He never recovered from it. The second betrayal, the reinforcer, was his father not showing up to Sekoto Peak. Since then, Dabi is reliving his trauma over and over again the more he uses his quirk and the more he faces Endeavor. To be saved, Dabi needs to accept that he is loved unconditionally and needs to be validated that he was right to feel thrown aside and used.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 5 - Cross Your Heart [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Lying is supposed to be easy for spies.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think undercover operations were some sort of punishments given to agents, because lying was one thing, but creating a whole life around that lie was another.

Not only were your knives replaced by a bunch of paintings on the wall, you now had some photos in frames; old photos of people you didn’t know, people who were supposed to be your “cover” family.

You’d still prefer to have your knives on the walls though.

“You’re my best friend, you’re supposed to be on my side!” you pressed the phone between your shoulder and your ear, and heard Chloe’s laugh.

“I am on your side, I just can’t do anything about your uniform.”

You plopped down on the couch, setting your heels down on the floor.

“Bucky might be from 1940s, but he knows that it’s the 21st century now,” you said, putting the heels on, “No reason to make me dress like a….weird pin up waitress.”

“It’s a part of your mission,” she reminded you, “What, you can kill a target with a wine glass but a pin up costume is where you draw the line?”

You clicked your tongue, “Anyone can kill someone with a wine glass. It’s not that hard.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Babe it’s not rocket science, you just break the bowl part, then use the stem to stab them in the—“ you got distracted when you opened the kitchen cabinet, “I’m sorry, why do I have so many kitchen supplies?”

She held her breath in excitement, “Do you like them?”

“I don’t know what to do with most of them.”

“Cover Y/N likes cooking!”

“And the real Y/N can’t stand her,” you deadpanned, making her stifle a laugh.

“So he hasn’t texted you yet?”

“Barnes?” you asked, “Not yet. Why?”

“Well, I took the liberty of taking a look at his messages the other day.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me,” you said, “He’s seeing someone else?”

“No no, not at all,” she said, “He’s totally single, and probably ready to mingle. With you, that is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He and Wilson were talking about you the other day. Well, more like Wilson was telling him to get his shit together and ask you out.”

“I don’t think he’s the type to ask someone out via text,” you said, “I think he will come to the shop one of these days.”

“Why?”

“He looked sort of….” You searched for the word in your mind, “Uh-clueless?”

“Clueless?”

“Yeah, you know how assassins usually flirt,” you ignored her noise of disagreement, “He wasn’t like that.”

“You really need to focus on the personal details of his file.”

You scowled, “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, “I know his favorite weapons, what knives he—”

“Personal file,” she repeated, “You know there’s more to people than their weapons of choice right?”

“I might have to engage in combat if I’m ever compromised, and do you know how many people walked away alive after engaging in combat with the Winter Soldier in all these decades?” you asked, “Three. Three people; Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and they are legends. I might be good, but I’m not that good.”

“Just memorizing his arsenal can’t help you in this mission,” she said, “Did you know that he hasn’t exactly dated since becoming the Winter Soldier? His ex Connie ended up having 3 kids and a long career at the post office—“

“What am I supposed to do Chloe, stalk grandma’s Instagram?”

“No, she passed away 5 years ago.”

“Of course she did,” you mumbled, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’m already knee deep in my own cover, I can’t get into Barnes’s past when it’ll give me no advantage in the mission.”

“Y/N-“

“Trust me,” you cut her off, looking in the mirror to fix your uniform, “I have everything under control.”

                                              ***

You had maybe like one thing under control and that was the milkshake you were currently pouring into a mason jar. After a crash course in different recipes yesterday, you barely needed any help from your coworkers and seeing that the shop wasn’t very crowded, you didn’t have to rush.

And now you knew how to make three things; pasta, eggs and milkshakes.

If Keith were here, he would’ve said those were 3 main food groups.

“Tara, we’re running low on maraschino cherries,” you said as you shook the can and your new coworker turned to you.

“Oh that’s okay, there’s another jar are under the counter.”

You put the cherry over the whipped cream, and handed the jar to her. “There you go.”

“Another week of working here and you will come up with your own recipes,” she said, “Tell me the truth, are you like a spy sent by a rival company?”

You stared at her, then forced a laugh.

“I wish,” you said, “Maybe I’d be paid more.”

“Good point,” she said and walked to give the milkshake to the customer while you put the empty jar aside, then went under the counter to search for a new jar.

“Strawberries….” You read the labels out loud as you heard the wind bells chime by the door, “Figs, berries—cherries!”

You reached out to grab the jar and stood up but as soon as you did, you caught the sight of the figure by the door and held your breath, the jar slipping from your grip before you caught it mid-air.

“Bucky.” You breathed out, before you remembered to plaster a smile on your face.

Naïve, soft hearted civilian.

He stole a look around as if he expected someone to attack him at any seconds in a milkshake shop before he stepped closer to the counter you were standing behind.

“Hi.”

“Hi-hi there!” you said, putting the jar down, “You came!”

“You sound surprised,” he smiled and you shrugged your shoulders, shooting him a mischievous look,

“Better late than never, I suppose.”

He hissed in a breath, “Ouch, was it that late?”

“Just a little,” you said “So what can I get you?”

He looked up at the board over the wall, “What are my options?”

“Well, we have Unicorn Cotton Candy, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Candy Cane Passion, Lavender Macaron—“ you stopped talking when you saw the clueless look on his face and cleared your throat, “Or hey, maybe chocolate? We have chocolate milkshake.”

“Chocolate sounds good.”

“Coming right up.” You took a mason jar from the shelf to get to it and he grabbed his wallet, making you raise your brows.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh come on—”

“I’m going to make you an overly complicated milkshake if you try to pay for this,” you warned him, shaking the can before putting whipped cream on top of the milkshake, “It’s on the house, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said quickly, making you point at him with the straw.

“Either way, I’m warning you. I’m armed and dangerous.”

“Consider me intimidated,” he said with a grin as he put the cash into the tip jar and you narrowed your eyes.

“Bucky.”

“Well technically, tip doesn’t count.”

“I wonder where I heard that before,” you muttered under your breath while he walked to pull himself a seat.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, reminding yourself that your cover probably wouldn’t make dirty jokes and went to place the milkshake in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You waved a dismissive hand and rested your elbows on the counter, leaning in slightly.

He was gentleman enough to not check out your cleavage, instead kept his gaze on your face, making you suppress a smile.

“You were right,” Bucky said, his eyes darting around the café after a couple of seconds, “About how this place looked. It is creepily accurate.”

“Really?”

“I mean we didn’t have a neon flowers corner, but…” he trailed off, “Yeah. Yeah, I would say so.”

“Is that why you look like you expect someone to jump out of shadows and attack you?” you asked and his head shot up before he scrunched up his face.

“That obvious?”

“Not that I have lots of experience but so far none of the customers looked this uncomfortable while drinking a milkshake,” you said, “Is it because deep down you actually wanted to try Unicorn Cotton Candy?”

“Oh no, I’m good with classics,” He held up his milkshake, “No I just think that I’m a bit….uh, rusty.”

“Rusty,” you repeated, “On what?”

“On this.”

You batted your lashes, looking up at him and you could almost feel him being lured in.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” you said softly after a beat and he gulped, taking a deep breath.

“It’s just that you’re—“ he cleared his throat, “You’re very beautiful and it’s been decades since I last asked someone out for a date.”

Winter Soldier, credited with over 100 assassinations, you reminded yourself Don’t lower your guard, it’s just a cover.

Don’t believe in your own cover.

You bit down a smile, tilting your head.

“Well, I didn’t think you were rusty,” you said and he raised his brows.

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all,” you said, “For the record, I’m definitely going to say yes.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you grinned, “Once you actually ask me, that is. With words, not an implication.”

His smile was almost playful, “With words, huh?”

“I’m old fashioned like that,” you taunted him, “Let’s see how we can make it less awkward for you though. Would you feel more comfortable to ask me out if you knew some weird stuff about me?”  

“You know, that would help a lot actually.”

You tapped your fingernails on the counter, looking up at the ceiling, pretending to be in deep thought. Your superiors had always said the best cover stories were somehow based on real life without revealing your identity, so you figured telling him random things about you wouldn’t hurt or put the mission in danger.

“Well, I really like grapes but I don’t like the skin, so I end up peeling every grape I eat, one by one,” you counted with your fingers, “I watched a documentary once and now I can’t swim in any lakes because I keep thinking I’ll get attacked by that weird flesh eating bacteria. When I was sixteen, I was the president of the chess club but I had a boyfriend who didn’t believe in the moon landing—”

“I heard about the moon landing!” he said quickly, “I didn’t get around to watch it yet though.”

“Oh my God, you should.”

“What else?”

“I’m scared of peacocks,” you confessed, “I know everyone says they’re beautiful but they look like they’re waiting for the right time to attack you.”

He looked like he was fighting with himself not to laugh and he pressed his metal fist on his lips, his whole attention on you.

“You can’t laugh!” you exclaimed and he shook his head, trying to look as serious as possible.

“I’m not!” he managed to hide his chuckle with a cough, “Keep going, this is very helpful.”

You heaved a sigh. “Well, do you want to hear the most embarrassing one?”

“Absolutely.”

“I normally keep my phone on mute 24/7 but since last week it’s been on full volume because I was terrified I’d miss something important.”

The amused light in his eyes got softer and he lowered his hand, a smile warming his face.

Hook, line…

“I was um— I was hoping for you to call, you see.” you said, averting your gaze from him to look down for a second, biting on your lip.

His voice was raspy; “Were you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, mumbling an inaudible maybe, and his eyes trailed down to your lips before snapping up to lock your gaze in his.

“What time do you get off work today?”

And sinker.

Time to pull back.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, “I work at the soup kitchen tonight.”

“Oh –I thought you said it was on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“I did, I’m just covering for a friend tonight. Family emergency, she says.” you said and pushed your hair behind your ear, shifting your weight, “But my shift is over at 6 tomorrow and I can be ready around 7, I live really close by. If you’re- if you’re free, that is.”

“I am.”

“It’s a date, then.”

“It’s a date,” he repeated and stood up, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow Bucky.” You smiled as he walked out of the shop and Tara came closer to you.

“Wow, you’ve been here a month and you met someone that hot?” she said and winked at you, “Good job there.”

Right.

Good job.

                                             ***

“So, wait—“ Chloe came closer to sit between you and Keith, holding a huge bowl of popcorn, “He just showed up?”

“Mm hm.”

“And you have a date tomorrow?”

Keith uncapped your beer and handed you the bottle as you rested your feet on the coffee table.

“You’re being careful, aren’t you?” he asked you and you nodded.

“Sure.”

“He doesn’t suspect anything?”

“No, he’s buying this whole naïve soft hearted civilian thing,” you said while Chloe snatched the remote from Keith’s hand, ignoring protests.

“And are you?”

You dragged your eyes from the list of movies on the screen. “I want a horror movie.”

“Well too bad, I want an action movie.”

“We’re watching a rom-com and that’s final!” Chloe pointed at both of you, making you groan.

“Why does this keep happening?” Keith asked to no one in particular and she snapped her fingers.

“It’s my turn and my place so I pick the movie,” she said and shot you a look, “I’m still waiting for an answer, by the way. You don’t….you don’t have feelings for Barnes, right?”

Keith stole a look at you before turning to Chloe,

“I don’t think our dear friend here wants a relationship beautiful,” he told her, “Not after what happened the last time.”

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arms as a shiver ran down your spine.

“I don’t even know Barnes all that well yet, but I can assure you he’s not the type to—“ you paused, “Do something that cowardly.”

Keith gritted his teeth. “Where is that asshole anyway?”

“Hungary,” Chloe said and you raised your brows.

“Undercover?”

“Yeah. I hope he gets compromised and dies there.”

“Very unlikely,” you murmured, “Anyways, what brought this on? My feelings for Barnes?”

“It’s just that I recently read Vincent Smith’s file,” she said, “You guys remember Vincent?”

“Who?”

“His code name was Marco.”

“Oh, I remember Marco!” Keith said, “That guy took down a whole unit by himself. What happened to him?”

“He is missing.” Chloe said and you pulled your brows together.

“Since when do agents go missing and we don’t know where they are?”

“Since they fall for the target.”

“No way,” Keith chuckled, “Badass spy Marco fell in love? Poor idiot.”

“You’re a terrible person, Keith.”

You sat up straighter, “Wait, did you say he fell for the target?”

“Yeah, I saw the reports from his handler. And now he’s missing, and I don’t want you to run away with Barnes like Marco did with his target.”

You and Keith exchanged glances and you clicked your tongue.

“Chloe babe, he’s not missing.” you said “He’s dead.”

She pulled back slightly, “You don’t know-“

“Yes I do. You don’t fall for the target and compromise the whole mission, not unless you want to end up dead.”

“There’s no report of that,” she insisted and Keith sipped his beer.

“What did his report say, sweetheart?”

“That he was removed from his mission before going missing.”

Keith scoffed, “Rest in peace Marco, you won’t be missed.”

“How do you know—“

“Because that’s the code,” you said, “If the report says he was removed from his mission and went missing, it means he was killed by an agent on our side.”

“We killed our own agent?” she exclaimed and you turned the beer bottle in your hand,

“He stopped being our agent the moment he fell for the target.”

Chloe covered her mouth with her hands, worry etched into her expression, “Y/N, please, please promise me you won’t somehow get too involved in this mission and fall for Barnes and put yourself in danger.”

You let out a small laugh, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“It’s the Winter Soldier we’re talking about,” you reminded her and chewed on the popcorn, “Trust me, that would never happen.”

“Cross your heart?”

You heaved a sigh and clinked your beer bottle with hers.

“Cross my heart honey,” you assured her, “There’s no way I’d sign my own death warrant by doing something that stupid.”  

Chapter 6

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Nine

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: OHOHOHHOHOHOHHO. That’s all I can say about this chapter. Hope you enjoy it. All of you need to go to horny jail. 

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Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.7k

Chapter Nine

“I have a feeling I know how this story ends,” Jesper said sadly. You found yourself scoffing at him.

“No, you don’t,” You said lightly. “I still don’t know how it ends,”

“What do you mean?” Kaz spoke up, interested suddenly. You let out a sigh, sending a glance over to Inej who was watching you so closely; so worriedly.

“He’s still looking for me, still trying to find me. He doesn’t know I crossed the Fold—,”

“You crossed the Fold?” Kaz interrupted, standing abruptly. “Why? How?”

“You—you should be dead,” Inej said timidly. She was right, they were both right to react in such a way. It was almost impossible really, to cross the Fold on your own. No skiff, no secure route, no way of knowing what would happen when the dark swallowed you whole.

You thought then about telling them how—telling them how you did it and came out of the dark with nothing more than a few scratches on your body; but a lot of scratches in your mind. But you chose not to; that was the end of the story.

If it ended, then maybe... they’d throw you out. Cast you aside. Be done with their interest in your sad little life. You were scared that they’d leave you, even though you hardly knew these criminals. You were scared that you’d be alone again, when the weight of realisation that you’d been alone all along at the Little Palace had hit you so hard before.

All you wanted was security, stability, a home, a family.

“I know,” You finally replied, forcing yourself to smile. “You’re getting too far ahead, though,” Kaz slowly descended into his seat once more, fingers curled tightly around his crow-headed cane. You wondered then, what it felt like to constantly have something on your person.

Inej with her knives. Kaz with his cane. Jesper with his pistols.

You had no such thing, unless you counted the raggedy old Kefta on your shoulders, but you didn’t particularly want to. You’d hated it from the beginning; you’d only worn it because of him.

You could still remember the first time you’d ever donned it.

The Little Palace, Six Months Ago

“Hey! Hey!” Genya’s yells cut through the forest easily, as if the trees allowed her voice to penetrate through them to hit your ears. You stopped training as she approached, breathing heavily, her face blotched with red.

“Genya,” You said, amused, jogging over to where she was hunched over, catching her breath. “Did you run here?”

“No... horses... left...” She heaved out, waving a hand in front of her face in place of a fan. “Saints—that woke me up,” You placed a supportive hand on her shoulder, on the brink of laughing at her flushed face.

“What’re you doing?” You questioned, as she started to calm down. She sucked a breath deep into her lungs, regarding your amused expression.

“It’s the General,” She said. Your face immediately dropped as your heart catapulted into your throat. “He’s back,”

You waved Genya off as she rode your horse back to the stables. There was more than enough space for both of you on the steed, but you needed time to calm your trembling limbs. The walk back would be able to offer you that.

It’d been four months since Aleksander had left the Little Palace. Time had gone fast, but also agonisingly slowly at the same time; which still confused you as to how that was even possible. His face had been forever etched in your mind since that night—his timid knocks, his abrupt and unapologetic kiss, the way his fingers roamed your bare skin like an extension of your own body.

Your heart had been aching ever since, but you’d tried to replace that void with training. You worked hard, mercilessly, tirelessly, so that Aleksander would be able to marvel at your improvement after his return.

He’d sent letters, but rarely. You had three in total, scrawled down in rushed handwriting by a man who you imagined to be busy beyond belief. But he’d still sent them; he’d still checked in with you, sent his words of affirmation, adoration—

Craving. Words of craving and longing and the obviousness that he was missing you.

You kept those letters in the locked drawer of the desk in your chambers, keeping the key secure in the cabinet at your bedside. Maybe it was supposed to be secretive, maybe it was supposed to be kept in the dark—or maybe you were overanalysing it all—but you didn’t want people prying. You didn’t want the extra pressure or scowls or attention that would no doubt come from having this kind of relationship with the General.

If it even was a relationship. You opted not to call it as such, not fully understanding what Aleksander even saw in you, wanted from you—liked about you.

As much as these four moths had been incredibly lonely, you couldn’t stop the uncomfortable wave of anxiety that beat through your entire body as you walked back over the fields to the palace. Beyond those cream walls and gold trim and décor, Aleksander would be back inside.

Waiting for you.

You’d improved; there was no doubt about that. There was a small thought then, when you got ever closer to the palace, that perhaps you should show off. You could already see the hub of carriages and Grisha in the distance, surrounding the General upon his return—

And Saints, maybe it was jealously, or excitement, or fear—

But there was something urging you to summon the air and glide to him. Show him what you’d learned, what you were capable of, what you’d taught yourself in his absence.

You took in a deep breath, bringing your hands together quickly. The air surrounded you almost instantly, circling your body and ruffling your hair and blouse as it descended to your feet. Within seconds, you were hovering atop the mound of air at the ground, and as you directed your hands forward, the air followed your commands.

You were propelled forward quickly, gliding effortlessly up the remaining fields until you were back on the palace grounds. You kept going, rounding the stables and slaloming between plant pots and other garden décor, until you approached the courtyard in a flash.

A few Grisha squealed at your arrival, parting the crowds around Aleksander’s carriage and making way for your storm. You lowered your hands then, jumping to the floor as the air at your feet dissipated into nothingness. You took one step forward, and all of a sudden his eyes were on yours—

His stare unwavering, his shoulders broad and brooding, his eyes as dark and deep as the time he’d left; but the smile on his face was one that you’d never seen before. Some mixture of longing and nostalgia and awe. He was impressed, as his eyes roamed down your body until they hit your feet, where your summoned pocket of air had been just moments before.

He trailed his gaze back up your body, landing upon all of the places that he’d touched before. You skin buzzed beneath your clothes, set alight by his stare that you hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him, until he was stood before you once more.

Aleksander turned, fully, to you then, approaching you slowly, step by agonising step.

“General,” You spoke first, trying to bat away the huge grin on your face into something more subdued. “You’re back,” You added, with a lack of what to say, other than I missed you, Aleksander. Saints, you wouldn’t say that here, not around the other Grisha.

“I see you’ve... improved,” He said softly, trickling his rough voice over you warmly. Saints—you’d missed that fucking voice.

“I suppose that’s up to you, Sir,” You replied, ignoring the tension that floated between the two of you like a storm cloud, just waiting for thunder to crack and lightning to flash.

“Let’s discuss your improvements later. This evening, in my office,” He stated. You tried to keep your expression flat; professional.

“I’ll see you then, General,” He shot you a smile before moving away. The crowd of Grisha and officers dissipated as Aleksander made his way to the palace, and all too soon the black of his uniform was hidden behind the closed doors.

Genya came up beside you then, crossing her arms as an amused smile littered her face. “Someone’s happy to see you,” She said slyly. You shoved your elbow into her rib softly, giving her a light push.

“Shut it,” You said, but there was no denying it. You were happy, the happiest you’d been in months, seeing the stubble that dotted his chin and the pensive look he reserved solely for you. You didn’t care about the murmurs surrounding your abrupt entrance or the obvious secretive nature that you and Aleksander conversed in from the other Grisha—you only cared that he was back.

He was back with you, after what felt like years.

You couldn’t shake the smile from your face when you walked through the upper corridors of the Little Palace, headed back to your chambers that evening. You couldn’t shake the excited energy that coursed through your veins or the anxious buzz that you got from imagining being alone with Aleksander again, after so long.

“He’ll get bored, you know,” Her voice was the only reason the smile drained from your face then, as you stopped in the corridor and turned back.

Zoya stood in the middle of the hallway, silhouetted by the dwindling evening light. You’d recognise her defensive stance and tense shoulders anywhere. “He always does,”

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be face-to-face with her, after so long avoiding her presence. But all too soon that uncomfortable feeling hit your gut whenever she was around; fear of the unknown.

“What are you talking about?” You replied, but you knew she was talking about Aleksander. She took a few confident steps forward, brooding and almost frightening in this isolated part of the palace. You kept your guard up strongly.

“Kirigan loves girls that he can mould to his own perception. You’re just another in a long line of Grisha that he’s taken an interest in,” Zoya said, her voice coarse and unforgiving. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t know what to say.

“Let me guess, he called you special. He called you powerful and strong. He’s littered your mind with ego-building drivel and promised you what you desire the most,”

You were stunned by her words, as your mind started fretting the last six months under this roof. But—this was also Zoya. Zoya, who hated your fucking guts. Zoya, who was endlessly jealous of any woman that stood by Kirigan’s side. Zoya, who evidently had qualms with the General himself that had been long forgotten by him.

You refused to acknowledge any words that fell from her lips as fact. She was untrustworthy and always would be in your eyes. She continued to approach you, and you started to lose your nerve. You balled your fists instinctively, and she stopped when she saw your shoulders drop defensively. The grin that curled onto her lips was akin to the Devil—devious and all-knowing.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, when he decides you’re of no worth. What happens when he finds the Sun Summoner, hm? You really think he’ll stay by your side?”

“You’re hurt over something that has long since passed, Zoya. Kirigan saw through your childish behaviour. You need to grow up,” You finally replied, but the words felt muddied leaving your mouth. You hated confrontation at the best of times, but this conversation had curdled your blood faster than you’d expected.

Zoya let out a disgusted chuckle. “See? You’re already too far gone,”

“And you’re a snake who can’t get over the fact that Kirigan may prefer the company of others. Others who don’t hoard past relationships over his head like a curse and constantly beg for affection that he doesn’t want to give,” You watched as her face dropped, and then all too soon she was storming towards you. She swiftly shoved you into the wall of the corridor, shoving her arm beneath your neck and pushing down just enough to keep you stuck. You refused to fight back.

“Your days are numbered. He will soon come to realise that you are nothing but a lost soul, just like the Volcra in the Fold that he wishes to destroy,”

She left as soon as she’d appeared, rounding the corridor and leaving you to place a soft hand against your neck, sucking in air as you caught back your breath. You shut the door of your chambers quietly, flexing your fingers in an attempt to make them stop trembling.

You washed and freshened yourself up, your mind racing. That’s when the wardrobe caught your eye; something within it was burning to get out.

You stomped to it, opening the doors swiftly and laying your eyes over the long forgotten Kefta that Aleksander had commissioned for you so long ago. You draped it over your arm, tracing your fingers over the intricate and beautiful patterns of white and grey, next to the backdrop of such a deep black—his colour—

The colour of the Darkling.

“Enter,” His voice said lowly, and you entered his chambers confidently. Aleksander stood with his back turned to you, placing down two tumblers and that oh so familiar bottle of Ravkan rum on the dark wood table.

When he turned, he stopped immediately. Time slowed, the air stilled, and Aleksander was but a marble statue in a world of concrete creatures.

You stood by the centre table, tall, chin out, Kefta donned for the first time. The fabric draped over you snuggly, the belt showing off the waist that you had underneath such bulky clothing. In this light, the embroidery glistened like Fjerdan snow; bright, light, powerful. After six months, the Kefta that Aleksander had so desperately and patiently waited for you to wear was now on your frame.

You were a Grisha. And perhaps, you were his.

The smile that curled onto his lips hit you—that’s what you’d been waiting for in response. The subtle curve of his smile, the gleam of his dark eyes as they traversed every crevice and curve of your body before him, the subtle flex of his fingers as if eagerly awaiting when he’d be able to touch you again.

The Aleksander you had so dearly missed, after months without his presence. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

“Just as I expected,” He said finally, as he began to walk towards you slowly. “Radiant,”

You blushed at his words, allowing yourself to don a small smile as he approached ever closer. “You picked the right colour,” You replied, prompting a small scoff to fall from his lips.

He reached you then, standing face-to-face comfortably. You peered up at him, noting the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp he made. Tension surrounded you both once more, but it was much stronger than you’d been expecting.

Aleksander reached out and grabbed the belt of your Kefta, tugging you forward abruptly. You refrained from squealing as you were pulled into his chest, laying your palms flat against him and feeling the unmistakeable pitter patter of his heart, thumping mercilessly beneath his skin.

“It’s such a shame that the first time I see you in your Kefta, I also want to rip it off of you,” He whispered lowly, cascading his voice over your face until you were mere putty in his hands. His hands snaked around your waist then, keeping you flush against his chest. You raised your hands to his neck, eyes flicking to his lips involuntarily as a warmth gushed through your gut.

“That doesn’t sound like a shame to me,” You whispered back, drawing circles over his skin with your fingers. He shivered at your touch, and a small growl sounded from the back of his throat. Abruptly, he hoisted you onto the table, treading quickly so he stood between your legs snuggly. You let out a gasp at his forwardness, but there was no denying it—

Both of you wanted this, wanted each other.

It’d been months in the making, and the absence of one another had only increased these feelings tenfold. You wanted Aleksander to rip the Kefta from your body and kiss you everywhere. You wanted to run your fingers over ever section of bare skin that the Darkling possessed; intentionally, lingering your touch wherever you could, so he’d always feel the warmth of your fingertips even when you weren’t there.

“Do you know how much I thought of you while I was away?” He questioned, and you swallowed down your incessant heartbeat.

“I imagine it was close to how much I thought of you,” You replied, inching your lips closer to his own.

“I poured over your letters,” He admitted. “I imagined your voice reading them to me. I imagined us in the forest, alone together, when my body refused to sleep,”

“Aleksander,” You said abruptly, when the feeling in your gut became far too intense. “Just kiss me,” You begged. He obliged.

His lips pressed into yours with a ferocity that you’d been waiting for since he’d left. It was more than the kiss you’d stolen before he left; more meaningful, less hasty, as if he was taking his time to navigate the intricacies of your body and mouth, now that he was able to.

You gripped onto him as if you’d never let go, feeling the curve of his spine, the tension in his jaw, the soft but trusting way his eyes were closed as his lips were flush against your own. Without parting, his hands pried off the belt of your Kefta, exposing your bare chest beneath. You’d opted against wearing your blouse, almost knowing that this would happen.

When his hands lay upon your warm, bare skin, Aleksander parted from you. His eyes skimmed your chest, landing upon your clavicle and your exposed breasts. There was a hunger in his eyes that you’d never seen before, but one that only made you want him more.

He smiled boyishly. “This was quite presumptuous of you,” He let out roughly, referring to your bare chest.

“I know you, Aleksander,” You replied, as you allowed the thick Kefta to fall from your shoulders until your torso was utterly exposed.

“Yes, you do,” He said, before plunging his lips onto yours once more. You noticed the difference now, as if he was craving so much more, and didn’t know how to grab as much of you as he could. His fingers swiped down to your trousers before long, toying with your waistband.

But this time, you pulled away quickly. You looked at him with a smug expression, flicking your eyes over his clothed body. “I don’t think that’s fair,” You said playfully, as your fingers moved to the buckles of his uniform.

You’d seen Aleksander bare just once, when you’d both jumped into the lake those months ago. You’d been thinking of that day ever since, imagining the time you’d get to be the reason for him undressing in front of you.

He mimicked your smile, but instead of helping, he simply raised his arms. Like the body of Christ on the cross, he smiled and waited for you to undress him. You let out a scoff, jumping off of the table to kiss him playfully, as your fingers pried apart all of the buckles on his jacket and dropped it to the floor.

Aleksander toyed with you when you got to his shirt, nipping at your earlobe and neck while you tried desperately to undo the buttons.

“You’re terrible at this,” He whispered in your ear.

“You’re terrible at standing still,” You replied, giving him another peck while you tried to avoid his playful teasing. You undid another button and moved onto the next.

“I don’t want to stand still,” He said. “I want to carry you to my room and lay you down,” His words made your entire body shiver. Arousal crept up through your gut to your chest, causing your heart to almost explode beneath your ribs.

“You can do that after I’ve touched every inch of you,” You said, amused, but Aleksander let out a guttural moan. He stopped playing suddenly, as he abruptly wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you from the floor. You wrapped your legs around his hips instinctively.

“I’ve run out of patience,” He muttered, as he carried you to the adjoining room of his chambers. You’d never been in Aleksander’s bedroom before, but it was just as you expected. A dark wood, four poster-bed in the centre of the large room, dotted with matching furniture.

He dropped you to the bed and wasted no time as he went for your waistband once more. You protested playfully, scrambling to keep undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“No fair!” You yelled, but it was obvious you weren’t really complaining. Aleksander tugged down your trousers, pulling you abruptly as he loomed over you. His arms were by each side of your head, your body encased in his shadow as he towered above you, boxing you in from all angles.

He stopped then, as his eyes ate you up. All bare skin and soft curves and subtle goosebumps—his. He looked at you like he’d imagined this moment often, like it littered his mind when he tried to focus and only left him frustrated by his own desires.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get more beautiful,” He whispered. You swiped your fingers over the last button, undoing it finally and tugging the shirt off of his shoulders. Your fingers skimmed over his chest softly, until you reached his heart. You placed your palm flat against his skin, keeping your eyes fixed on him.

“Your heart is racing,” You said, feeling his incessant beat. It only made your own speed up even faster, mimicking his own pulse.

“You know why,” He replied, and as he did, he dipped his head down, pressing his lips against yours strongly. You inhaled him fully, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him down on top of you.

He pulled away, coiling his arm around your head until his fingers were combing through your hair.

“It’s because of you,” He breathed out. “I’m only focused on you,”

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Thanks for reading! See you next time!

[hanazou]

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Random thoughts on One Piece/The New Era (with bits of Ace mixed in)

This will contain spoilers (but no details), so for those who are not at the current chapters and want to avoid spoilers, please don't read this - I don't want to be responsible for ruining your fun. =)

ANYHOW.

I've been mulling over some things when reading One Piece lately, and I still love it - have loved it since I was a 15-year-old girl in highschool, and now I'm 33 and about to finish my PhD and you know what? It's still one of the series/books I've read that made a strong impression on me.

So what I'm saying might come from an old 33 year old... ;) Perhaps it's my wounded pride. I don't know.

Lately I feel a bit like One Piece goes in the direction of "eliminating" the old era by Luffy defeating enemies (which is FINE, it's what he's supposed to do), but also by kind of kicking out older characters and I'm not super sure how I feel about this.

It started with the death of Whitebeard - which, okay. EPIC. Done really well. Until the end there was no sign that he was by any means weak, even old and sick. It signaled the end of the old era, of which Whitebeard was basically the biggest remnant, the guy that stood on par with Gol D. Roger. Then Ace... and for obvious reasons, I am not fine with that. His death was 100% so Luffy could remain the main protagonist and there was no real competition for Pirate King, because, let's me honest... nobody ever thought any of the other Supernovas would beat him to it. But from the narrative that Oda set up, Ace was a true contestant - he was stronger than Luffy, pulled people to him in much the same way and made allies easily, he was Gol D. Rogers son, he had conqueror's Haki (manifested already when he was a child!), etc. etc. However, he never WANTED to become Pirate King. I personally think he could have been left to live after being severly wounded and having to recover for a long time, and pretty much simply taken over Whitebeards role. So we'd have Ace as a figure connecting the old and the new generation, defending the remaining WB territories with no interest in being Pirate King, but only in his family. Which in itself is a good statement. (And his near-death and Luffy's CAUSE of his near-death would have been motivation enough, if you ask me.) ANYHOW. After this, all the youngsters go on to become stronger. And for some reason, without any explanation... the WB Pirates are destroyed and disbanded. Teach, with his crew of... what...7??? 8??? Managed to tear apart the remaining Whitebeard Pirates and take over their territory. And this happened when there was still Marco, Vista, Izou, all the other commanders... with no apparent loss or problem for Teach. (Who also managed to murder Thatch apparently without effort, but, okay, let's say Thatch trusted him and was surprised.) Which irks me, because it paints as the WBP as the weakest of all the Yonko crews, and at the same time Oda keeps showing how strong they were. Challening the WHOLE MARINE. Fighting on parr with the Admirals, with Hawkeye, etc. How does that add up?

So basically, the WBP as the first crew of "the old era" falls; and then we learn that fake-son-of-WB is hunting down the remaining ones to kill them. And he succeeds...??? And no WBP commander steps in...?

But not enough with this, now in the newest chapters we also loose Izou. And we do so in 2 pannels, without a proper farewell, without proper grief. His sister doesn't get a single panel for her reaction and instead rather goes to the bath...? I know it's an important statement made there, and I value it! But could there not have been an additional comment on her brother...?

Marco stepping aside for Sanji and Zoro, for the new generation, all of this...

I GET it. It makes sense. But I feel like there's no value placed into experience at this point - strength in itself is not enough, if you don't also have some experience to go with it. And my god, 40-50 years of age is not OLD. So I don't quite understand why specifically the Whitebeard Pirates get this treatment, while all others anyways survive, bounce back with no problem, and etc.

I have the dreaded feeling that Marco will be used to demonstrate Blackbeards new strength, or he will sacrifice himself like Izou did... And that isn't fine with me. I mean, now, that Oda kept torturing him with losing his brothers one after the other without being able to save them - even if he was RIGHT THERE!!! - I can't believe he'll let him live. *sigh*

Sorry, it's a long and confused rant. Baseline is:

just because a character is 40+ he is not "old" and from "the last era"

Ace didn't need to die and could easily have taken over the position of Kid/Law (more on that in a separate rant ;))

Whyyyyy the WBP???

On another note:

What

the

fuck

happened to Big Mom's crew??? Are they chilling on the beach??? Eating candy??? Are they now fodder for the Admiral??? They literally were not seen for so long and were supposed to be super strong, and then the waterfall defeated them or what? This seriously confuses me.

[five-rivers]

Cold Case 5

“You’re part of this conspiracy, too?” asked McGee, backing up a few steps. He wasn’t quite ready to confront the whole ‘speaking to a dead person’ thing. Not yet.

“Well. Yeah. As far as a conspiracy exists anyway. You are standing on my grave.” A wisp of mist peeled off the ghost, and the edges of his form flickered.

“Your…” He resisted the urge to glance at the gravestone. All the offerings made more sense if people thought their hero’s body was there.

… Everything about this situation was insane, wasn’t it? He was here, talking to a ghost he’d thought was fictional five minutes ago and standing on his grave. Not that he hadn’t thought all ghosts were fictional up until a couple of hours ago.

“Yep, it’s mine. Which is why I came down here. I can tell when someone is making weird promises to my dead body. It is a school night, you know?”

“People keep saying that. Why does it even matterthat it’s a school night?

“Because I like going to school, and contrary to popular opinion, ghosts do need rest. We sleep when we’re dead and all that.”

“Was that a pun?” demanded McGee, incredulous.

“More like a play on a common figure of speech or a literal metaphor, but, sure, call it a pun. Why are you so focused on my death, anyway?”

“You, I, what, this,” babbled McGee, trying to get a handle on his thoughts. “You’re a pre-teen who was buried in the woods. I’m not heartless.”

“Rude. I’m not a pre-teen. And I was sort of the one to do the burying, so…” The ghost tilted his head, frowning slightly. “You’re not having a heart attack, are you?”

“No,” said McGee.

“It’s just, you’re really holding onto your chest, there. I could fly you to—”

“I am not having a heart attack,” said McGee. “Stop changing the subject! You-! You’re-!” McGee sat down abruptly, careless of the condensation on the grass.

“You know, it’s normal to have an existential crisis when confronted with your own mortality.”

“I’ve already confronted my mortality! I’m a police detective for goodness’ sake!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.”

“And you- Your death. You said I already knew how you’d died. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Phantom shrugged. “It’s listed as an accident. And it was. I asked them not to put down the details. I like my living family to have privacy.”

“And the whole conspiracy?”

“Be honest,” said Phantom. “It isn’t really all that much of a conspiracy. The town gets most of its revenue from tourism. We’re actually pretty public about it.”

“But that’s not real.”

“Some of it is.” The ghost rubbed the back of his head. “We kind of all know you were sent to spy on us,” he said. “So, you’re probably wondering how to spin this.”

McGee felt his eye twitch. “Collins and Patterson told you?”

“Not really. It’s just obvious. But, like, outside of the GIW, no one is going to believe you that the reason for Amity being so messed up is ghosts. And you’ve seen the GIW.”

“They chased glowsticks around a park,” said McGee, dully. The action made more sense now that he knew about ghosts, but still.

Phantom laughed, a twinkling sound. “Yep. That was a good one. Anyway, I don’t know what your bosses are like, but I guess your options here are to either quit, or, well, if you can’t beat ‘em…”

“Is this a recruitment pitch? Are you, a ghost, trying to give me a recruitment pitch to join your vaguely illegal conspiracy town full of corruption and unsolved murders?”

“First off, to get unsolved murders here you have to go way back. Like I said, my death was an accident. Secondly. Is it working?”

McGee put his head in his hands.

“Welp. It isn’t like you have to decide right away. Your timeline’s determined by whoever your bosses are. No one here hates you, though, if that makes it easier. Collins and Patterson wouldn’t have shown you the Neon District, otherwise. They’d have waited ‘til you ran into a daylight battle, tried to scare you off. That kind of thing.”

“This is them not trying to scare me off?” asked McGee, humorlessly.

“Yeah, I know, it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s true.” Phantom paused. “Ah, that wasn’t exactly the thing to say to put you at ease, was it?”

“What,” said McGee, “is worse than this? What is worse than the dead coming back to like and those alien-looking green blobs coming through and the Fentons, oh my god, what is worse than what they were driving?”

“Oh, gee,” said Phantom, not meeting McGee’s questioning gaze. “Would you look at the time. I’ve got to go. School night and all.”

With that, the ghost disappeared.

Slowly, McGee dragged himself back to his car, turned it on, and just sat there, heater on full blast. This was… a lot to take in. A whole lot.

He rubbed his hand over his face.

Ghosts.

Real ghosts.

Who had opinions about investigations into their deaths.

Had he somehow been sucked into a demented supernatural buddy-cop drama? He was tempted to go searching for cameras.

He was tempted to invest himself fully into whatever this was, because didn’t everyone dream about being in a story like this? Being involved in something fantastic and meaningful? Being the hero of a story, no matter how short?

But this was really to much for someone his age. And he really had to come up with something to say to his bosses, because he really, really doubted that they’d accept him quitting to join the Amity Park Police Department as a non-spy.

He closed his eyes and let himself breathe. He didn’t have to decide how to handle this now. Maybe he’d take Collins and Patterson up on that day off. Think about it for a while.

But.

Ghosts.

Could he live with himself if he just left?

Ice glittered on the ground illuminated by his headlights, as if mocking him for his earlier ambitions about solving cold cases, for all the ignorant thoughts he’d had when first arriving. Could a case really be called cold when the victim was available to give an interview?

Well, yes, assaults went cold all the time, but, still…

Even if McGee didn’t know the details of his eventual decision, he knew, then, that even if he left, he’d never be able to forget Amity Park. It was too good of a mystery. And all other fantasies pushed aside, he’d become a detective to solve mysteries.

In short: he wasn’t leaving.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Hi! :D I saw that request are open, soo can you do a reader x levi where reader and reiner were a couple, but she found out about him being the armor titan and now she is a mess and levi is making her forget about reiner or something like that, pretty please? 🥺

Oooo I like it :)

Summary: Reader is heartbroken with the revelation of the identities of the Armored and Colossal titans. 

Word Count: 1.8K

__

You sat numbly at the dining room table. It had been one day since Reiner and Bertolt revealed their secret. You and the others were still in shock, denial even for some of you. Connie sat to your left, his face in his hands, shoulders slumped. Levi and Hange had left you and the others alone to update the commander on the current situation. It felt wrong, to be without the blonde, someone who had slipped into your heart and become a constant in your life effortlessly. Someone you trusted implicitly with all your heart, he had been more than a comrade to you. More than a friend even, the two of you shared countless nights under the stars during your cadet days, talking about anything and everything. But now you wandered if it was all an act, an elaborate scheme to blend into the ranks, seem human. Because no human being could slip between roles the way that they had. But he had felt human when you kissed him, held him, talked to him. 

“Your turn to be on duty.” Sasha said, coming into the small space, shotgun slung over her shoulder. Mikasa held an armful of kindling, which she set near the stove before turning to retreat into the back room where Eren was resting. 

“Okay Sash.” Connie said, his tone deflated and dull. Sasha handed you the shotgun and Connie shrugged a cloak on, pulling the hood over his head as the two of you walked out into the night. You stood on the makeshift towers that had been constructed, looking up at the same stars that you’d gazed at with Reiner ages ago. It was all so fresh, the sting of the steam hitting your face as they transformed, the clap of thunder. The way he had begun throwing titans left and right with no regard for his former comrades, for you. All of you had nearly died in the fiasco, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. No you were just plain hurt. Connie perked up beside you, pushing his hood down when the sound of hooves thundering down the deserted path became clear. 

“They’re back.” Connie stated the obvious as he climbed down the tower, you followed him. Once the superiors arrived you took the reins of their horses and rushed to put them away, eager to hear your next orders. With the horses fed and watered you both ran back into the cabin. You hung the rifle by the door and Connie threw his cloak onto one of the coat hooks. The others had already gathered at the table, Historia sat at the head of the table, a humble meal was prepared and placed on the table, soup and stale bread as always. You listened as Historia told you her story, of her true identity and what that meant for all of you. Levi and Hange informed you that the government was fed up with the scouts and planned to punish Erwin Smith. Everything was falling apart, the little family that you had found was about to come crumbling down once more. As soon as Levi gave the order for all of you to go to bed, the cadets fled to the two rooms, one for the girls the other for the boys. Hange left once more, something about checking up on the pastor and keeping Erwin company. You were doing dishes with Armin who was drying them with shaky hands. 

“Go to bed, I can finish this.” You assured him, wanting to be alone and do a mindless task to help you dissociate. 

“I couldn’t-” 

“I need this Armin, just go to sleep.” You came across a bit hostile but at the moment you couldn’t care less. He frowned but set the towel aside and retreated with slumped shoulders. Levi cleared his throat from behind you as he came back into the kitchen. You didn’t even spare him a glance as he reached into the cupboard for the tea leaves, he filled the tea pot with water and began to boil the water. As he waited he sat at the kitchen table in silence. 

“Finish those and head to bed.” His cold voice made you jump a bit, due to the randomness of his order. 

“Yes sir.” You answered as you scrubbed at the ancient dishes. Your hands were sore, they had been burned during your assault on Bertolt. The bandages were wet now, the salve Hange had applied earlier in the day had long since dried up. As you finished the last dish you turned and dried your hands off, a involuntary hiss escaping your lips as you applied too much pressure to your wounds. 

“What’s wrong cadet?” Levi asked as he poured hot water over the bitter leaves. 

“It’s nothing, just burned my hands yesterday...” You answered as you pulled at the bandages. 

“Hm I see.” Levi mused as he reached into the cupboard once more, you watched him carefully, waiting for him to tell you to get lost. But instead he produced another cup, pouring tea into it and walked over towards the door. You watched, confused when he paused before the door. 

“Bring the roll of bandages and that salve Hange had earlier. They’re in that bag over there.” He said with a vague nod in the direction of the humble living room. You found the bandages and salve, you carried them out into the cool summer evening, the sound of cicadas and tree frogs felt familiar and comforting. You found him on the porch on one of the rickety old chairs. The cups were steaming as they sat on a small round table, he watched you with a dull expression as you sat in the other chair and placed the bandages and salve on the table. 

“Let me see them.” He sighed, holding his hands out, his own palms were littered with callouses and old scars. You timidly obeyed, placing the backs of your hands in his palms. He inspected the bandages for a moment before he began to unwrap them. You watched as he uncovered your wrecked palms, the flesh red and blistered from doing the dishes and other chores all day long. 

“You should have said something.” Levi scolded as he unscrewed the lid of the salve and dipped a finger into the cool substance. 

“It wouldn’t have been fair. We’re all injured.” You pointed out as he began to smear the salve onto your left palm. 

“You’re no good to me if your hands get infected and need to be amputated.” He shot back, his dark eyes focused on the task at hand, you frowned but said nothing. 

“I suppose.” You said after a moment, your eyes taking the opportunity to study his features as he worked, the soft curve of his nose, prominent cheek bones and delicate brows. He was undeniably handsome, you had known this obviously, the women of the walls always threw themselves at his feet. 

“Tomorrow you will do look out rotations instead of cleaning or getting wood. Your hands need to heal.” He stated as he wrapped your left palm back up in fresh bandages. The burning had subsided with the aid of the salve, now he turned his attention to your other hand. 

“Yes sir.” You answered obediently as you watched him unwrap the bandages once more. 

“How is your knee?” You attempted to make conversation, eyes traveling to inspect the injured knee. He paused and looked up at you, his eyes weren’t as hard as they’d been moments ago, the sudden softness caught you off guard. 

“Better.” He answered with a clipped tone as he held your hand tenderly. His thumb rubbed the space over the inside of your wrist and your brows raised in shock. 

“You were close with them?” His words and actions alike caught you off guard, you blinked dumbly at him as he waited for an answer. 

“I was....” You said, his grip on your wrist tightened then eased up almost instantly. 

“It’s a shame. They were good soldiers.” He said nonchalantly as he ran his salve covered fingers over your torn skin. 

“Yes.” was all you could manage as he began to wrap your wounds. When he finished he sat back, crossing his legs, one ankle resting on his opposite knee. He reached for his cup and took a sip of the bitter tea, eyes wandering to scan the forest. Not knowing what else to do, you grabbed your own cup with your freshly wrapped hands and took a sip of the calming liquid. 

“Where are you from cadet?” Levi asked, once more shocking you. 

“A small village in wall Maria.” you answered, the memory of your cozy home and the unfortunate end that it met coming to your mind. 

“Hm, that why you joined the scouts?” He mused, eyes still not on you. 

“Yes, mainly.” 

“Mainly?” He looked at you now, eyes curious. 

“I wanted to fight alongside my brother.” You answered, remembering how he had been killed by the female titan during the 57th. 

“Ah I remember him now.” Levi said, his tone soft and understanding. 

“Good soldier, he would be....proud of you I’m sure.” You looked at him with wide eyes, he was being so kind. Did he put something in his tea? 

“I can only hope...” You said, taking another sip of the tea, hoping now that there was alcohol in it to calm your nerves and help make sense of this weird situation. 

“We must remember our fallen, that’s what I fight for, their memory.” Levi said, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart skip a beat. He had lost people too in that expedition, their deaths were the only reason that you’d been assigned to his squad. 

“Yeah..” you said lamely as you tried to make sense of where all of this was coming from. 

“Sir?” You started, unsure of if the next words you were going to speak would be appropriate or not. 

“Hm what is it?” He asked over the rim of his cup. 

“C-Could you...tell me a story or something? I can’t stop thinking about-” 

“What do I look like? Your mother?” He snorted, setting his cup down, you blushed profusely, instantly regret flooding your chest. 

“No forget about it, it’s stupid” You said, shaking your head and standing quickly. Levi leaned forward and caught your wrist. 

“Sit.” You dropped back into your seat without a second thought. 

“I guess...I could tell you about the time-” He trailed off, a thoughtful expression replacing his dull one. You found yourself admiring the rare expression fondly. 

“The time that I had to knock Hange unconscious to bathe her, filthy animal.” Levi scoffed and leaned back into his seat when he saw that you were no longer trying to get away. 

“That sounds perfect.” You sighed and sat back as well, ready to hear about the antics that Hange and Levi went through to get your mind off of the betrayal. 

“She got into some mud after a mission, wouldn’t bathe. Said there was too much work to do-” You closed your eyes, letting the baritone voice wash over your senses and sweep any other thoughts out of your mind. That night you fell asleep to Levi’s voice for the first time and the melody of cicadas and tree frogs. 

__

Kinda got carried away with this one. Honestly feels a bit cheesy but I kinda like it. 

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (4)

Oh God, there’s another one.

The thought came unbidden to Toshinori’s mind, and it engulfed him in the closest thing to pure dread he had felt in years. It had taken two centuries, the sacrifice of seven One For All users, and two of his own major organs to take down a single All For One wielder, and now a brand new one had somehow sprouted right in front of him.

Now. Now that he had finally decided to tackle the hurdle of entrusting a relatively stable Japan to a successor, now that he was weaker and less capable than ever of defending it from a new threat. Now that the deadline of Nighteye’s prophecy was drawing closer and closer. His own gruesome death on the battlefield, and the sudden reappearance of All For One’s quirk. The unavoidable connection between the two facts almost robbed him of his breath.

Toshinori couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy’s hand. It looked diminutive in comparison to his own, and completely inoffensive. It had the soft, unblemished appearance that suited someone who had never hit anything bigger than a fly, whereas the hero’s skin had long since been roughened by calluses, and his joints slightly thwarted by the occasional fracture. Yet, that single, unassuming dimple in the middle of its palm made it more potentially destructive than a hundred of Smashes combined.

A sort of choked whimper made Toshinori finally raise his gaze. He realized he had stopped trying to school his expression only when he saw his own strung-out stupor mirrored in Midoriya’s features. 

“I-I… Sorry, I r-really have t-to…” The boy took a step back, his hand slipping from the man’s grasp, then he suddenly turned on his heels and motioned to sprint away.

“Hey, hey!” Toshinori reached forward, grabbing Midoriya’s wrist by sheer reflex. He had already wasted enough time and energy chasing slimy villains and rash teenagers all over the town that day, thank you very much. “Where are you going?”

Midoriya froze on the spot, as if shocked by an electric current. His arm was rigid in Toshinori’s grasp, pulling away from it but without any real conviction. His head turned slowly towards the hero but not fully, letting him see only half of the boy’s face. The unmistakable terror etched in those wide eyes made something constrict in Toshinori’s chest.

“I-I’m… I’m so sorry…” The boy’s voice was down a trembling, barely audible whisper.“I didn’t mean to d-do that… I’ve never… I won’t do it again, I swear, j-just…” 

Midoriya’s free hand hovered over the hero’s, maybe having half a mind of prying it open, but he didn’t even dare to touch it. Toshinori let go of him immediately. The kid wasn’t expecting it, judging by his flabbergasted expression, and all he did with his regained freedom was backing away from him with a couple of uncertain steps, bumping into a nearby electric pole with his backpack and just standing there, pretty much like a cornered mouse cowering before a lion.

The sight jolted Toshinori back to reality with brutal efficiency. God, what was wrong with him today? He was handling this abysmally. That was no two-hundred-year-old manipulative slaughterer, that was a child. A child rapidly working himself into a panic, if his onsetting tremors were of any indication. Ironically, the realization grounded Toshinori even more. Frightened victims and distraught relatives were a daily occurrence in his line of work, and his professional composure slipped back in place almost subconsciously.

“You don’t need to apologize. Quite the opposite. You saved everyone. The hostage, the bystanders… even me. I’m not sure I’d have had the energy to keep up appearances after another smash.” He put up his hands and showed his palms with slow movements, keeping his voice low and level. “You did nothing wrong back there.”

Midoriya slowly slumped down the pole, his limbs huddled in a distressed heap. He blinked quickly as his eyes shied away from Toshinori’s, hands bunching up the fabric of his trousers nervously. “...I-I can give it back. The quirk. I want to give it back to its owner.”

“That can be easily arranged.” Something about the whole situation was nagging at Toshinori, but he pushed that feeling aside for the moment. The boy wasn’t holding himself in any way that hinted at specific injuries, but fear could be one hell of an anesthetic. He gazed up and down the road, finding it completely deserted. He still felt slightly abuzz with the adrenaline rush caused by his second encounter with the sludge villain and the recent revelation of Midoriya’s quirk. He gauged that he could probably (possibly, maybe, hopefully) abuse One For All for another twenty seconds or so if need be, just the time to scoop up the boy in his arms and power run back to the ambulances at the site of the accident. That was likely to cause even more distress to the poor kid though, so he’d rather hold off on it unless clearly necessary. “Are you sure you aren’t in any pain?”

“I-I’m f-fine.” The boy wiggled the backpack off his shoulders and rummaged through it shakily, a few tears rolling down his cheeks and his hiccups becoming harder to contain. “I’m fine…”

“Hey, kid. Look at me. Deep breaths.” Toshinori finally ventured a step and a half towards Midoriya, squatting at a reasonable distance to his side instead of right in front of him, to make sure he wouldn’t feel too crowded. Toshinori offered him a couple of tissues (always plentiful in his pockets) while the boy tried to regain a semblance of calm. “It’s all right. I am here.”

That got the boy’s attention. The catchphrase had slipped out of him automatically, without his trademark panache or blinding smile or overflowing optimism, but Midoriya looked at him like he’d been thrown a lifeline nonetheless. The dam broke and big, shiny tears erupted from his eyes as he accepted the tissues and buried his sobs in them. They remained like that for a while, the kid quietly working through his sniffles while Toshinori sat cross-legged on the dusty asphalt, reminding him to take his time whenever he got a little fidgety.

“Sorry if I spooked you.“ Toshinori eventually offered with a small smile, after Midoriya had finally settled down. “I’m a little out of it myself, today. Not the most auspicious first day in my new neighborhood, but what can you do?”

“Uh? Do you mean you’re moving here?” Midoriya asked while he accepted the fourth tissue and wiped away the remaining dampness from his face.

“Mh-hm.” After the debacle on the rooftop, this didn’t feel like too much of a sensitive bit of information to share. Besides, the kid was a fan, so maybe throwing him a bone would help him relax a little more.

“Why? Isn’t it inconvenient for you? I thought you lived in a penthouse above Might Tower, in Tokyo’s Minato Ward, Roppongi 6-12-”

...Ah, he was that kind of fan. Obviously. “Indeed, but I’ve decided to move to… broaden my professional horizons, so to speak.”

“Oh! Are you planning to open a branch of your agency here? Or are you joining some local long-term operation?“ That spark of morbid curiosity in the boy’s eyes made Toshinori regret bringing up the topic in two seconds flat.

“I’m afraid that’s all I can say on the matter, everything’s still under tight wraps. You’ll hear all about it from the news, eventually.” He stood up and patted some dirt off his hands and pants. “Do you live far from here? I’ll walk you home if you’re feeling better.”

“Oh, uh…” The boy gaped at him in surprise. “Thank you, but there’s no need for you to go out of your way! I’m fine, really!”

“Think nothing of it.” Toshinori hooked three fingers under the strap of the boy’s backpack and hauled it over his own shoulder. It hit his back with unexpected oomph. What did kids even put in those things, weren’t textbooks all digital these days? “Clearly this isn’t your lucky day either. I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you reached your house safely without being run over by a truck or abducted by aliens.”

The joke got a half-smile out of Midoriya, at long last. He held out his hand to the boy to help him back on his feet. The obvious hesitation and near disbelief he couldn’t hide before gingerly accepting the proffered hand gave Toshinori another small wave of unease. There was definitely something strange about all this, aside from the obvious. He gestured for the kid to lead the way, and they set off towards their new destination.

Toshinori granted him a few minutes of silence before breaching the pivotal subject. “So… you have quite the interesting quirk.”

“...Mh.” Midoriya visibly stiffened. So it had been the quirk talk to give him cold feet, rather than a generic reaction to the day’s stress...

“Why didn’t you use it against the villain the first time he attacked you?” Toshinori asked, opting for a more roundabout approach.

“Ah… I’m sorry. I really should have. You wouldn’t have had to waste your power if I’d-”

“Forget about me! Why didn’t you use it to defend yourself? Did you panic?”

“Uh, well, not too much.” The kid shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his gaze to the ground, his voice lowering to a droning mutter. “I can take quirks, but I don’t automatically learn how to use them. The villain’s quirk looked like it may be difficult to handle. What if I couldn’t maintain a solid form and just turned myself into a puddle of goo? What if some parts of my slime got detached from the main body during the scuffle, and I found myself missing chunks of flesh upon turning back human? What if the sludge was only an outer layer over my body, and without fine control I ended up drowning in it? Stuff like that… I should have just taken the villain’s quirk without activating it, but I was afraid that he’d get even angrier and he’d just beat me up anyway. I’m not, uh, strong. Or fast. At all. I didn’t consider that he might freak out long enough for me to run away…”

Toshinori blinked. “...Sorry, how long had that guy been harassing you before I showed up?”

“Oh, not long at all. Twenty or thirty seconds, I think.”

“And you went through all of that in twenty seconds. While being ambushed and choked.”

Midoriya just shrugged.

“That is… some quick thinking, all right.” Toshinori commented. He omitted the fact that it was a brand of quick thinking that was more likely to get you killed rather than saving your skin during an emergency. Apparently Midoriya would hesitate to protect himself from a violent attacker, but he’d run for the hills the moment the Symbol of Peace gave him a bit of an odd look. The kid’s fight-or-flight response was all over the place.

“I would have used my quirk to fight back eventually, if you hadn’t arrived so soon… probably…”

“...But?” Toshinori encouraged, sensing the unspoken addition.

“But… not many people know about my quirk. Very few, actually. And I’d like to keep it that way. If it’s possible.”

“Why?”

“...It’s not a good quirk.” Midoriya frowned, hunching his shoulders a bit. “One could do really bad things with it.”

“I could squash a man’s skull with my thumb and level a city block with a punch.” Toshinori countered plainly. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

“It’s… it’s different. You can choose to use your quirk only for good, but mine requires…” The boy trailed off, then hazarded a glance at the hero. “You know what I mean. You understood as soon as I told you, I saw it.”

Toshinori couldn’t argue on that point, unfortunately. Still… 

There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for Midoriya to wield All For One. For one, it could be a different quirk altogether, one that simply mimicked Toshinori’s nemesis’, but that wasn’t quite the same, maybe with some unmentioned limitations (although the palm marks made for quite the uncanny similarity). Moreover, much like look-alikes, duplicate quirks between unrelated people weren’t unheard of, although said quirks were usually quite simple ones, like basic physical enhancers or elemental emitters.

What really bothered Toshinori were the boy’s evident sense of guilt and fear of exposure. Virtually any moderately powerful quirk could be employed to ‘do really bad things’, but hardly any children grew up to be so blatantly scared and ashamed of their own abilities. Family and school usually nurtured a degree of confidence and trust in their own capabilities. Toshinori’s knee-jerk reaction was a byproduct of specific knowledge and experience, but Midoriya’s? If only few people knew about his quirk, it must mean he hadn’t used it much, if at all, in the past, ruling out peer pressure as well. What explanation, what innocent explanation could there be for such a strong negative bias, aside from knowledge and experience he wasn’t supposed to have?

“At least your parents know about your quirk, I hope?”

“My mother doesn’t. My father… isn’t really around.” Toshinori couldn’t decide if that last bit of information was a good or a bad sign.

“So… who did you tell?”

“Just one friend and my father.” Ah, we had one likely culprit then. A father that was around but not really. Suspicious. “And now you, I guess. And… everyone who saw what I did to that villain… including the police…” Midoriya looked just about ready to dig a ditch and roll in it. 

“Well, as I said, everyone seemed to think I took care of the matter, so-”

Midoriya shook his head, utterly demoralized. “Kacchan will tell them.”

“Kacchan?”

“Ah, the hostage. He’s my friend, the one who knows about my quirk. I don’t think he’ll lie to the police for my sake.”

“Ah, I see. I hadn’t realized you two were acquainted.” Toshinori offered him a supportive smile. “I guess that explains your burst of heroism.”

“...No one else was doing anything. I saw you among the crowd, but… I thought you couldn’t help.”

The boy had an almost tortured expression, which reignited the deep-seated guilt that had plagued Toshinori in those harrowing minutes. “...I thought I couldn’t help either.” 

“But you did jump in though. Even though… it hurts you?” Midoriya scanned him from head to toe in concern, as if looking for unnoticed signs of damage. “Why?”

“Why did you decide to intervene, despite your fear?”

“I… I just couldn’t let my friend suffer because I messed up.”

“Well, there you have it.” Toshinori simply said. The boy stared at him thoughtfully, apparently weighing his words carefully, before nodding slowly and resuming his perusal of the ground. Toshinori let the silence stretch for a minute. There was still plenty he wanted to ask, especially regarding Midoriya’s father, but-

“I really do want to give the quirk back.” The kid mumbled. “Should I just… go to the police and ask them? They’ll come looking for me anyway, I guess, but…”

Toshinori pondered the issue for a moment, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The least he could do was make this whole ordeal as smooth as possible for the kid. “I think I can help with that. Give me your number. I’ll text you to let you know when we can visit the villain. If we’re lucky, it may be as early as tomorrow.” 

Toshinori registered the boy’s contact information as they entered a quaint residential area with neat little rows of numbered buildings, pleasantly tinged with the warm hues of the sunset.

“Ah, that’s where I live.” Midoriya said afterwards, pointing at a nearby apartment complex. “Thank you for everything, All-”

Toshinori shushed him with a sharp gesture as he gazed around the street nervously. “Please, don’t call me that when I’m in this form.”

Midoriya froze, then bowed respectfully. “R-Right! Thank you, sir! I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, and taking so much of your time, and-”

Toshinori waved the upcoming barrage of apologies off and bid him a good evening, waiting for the boy to leave. Which he didn’t do.

“Uhm.” Midoriya pointed at Toshinori’s shoulder with an awkward smile. “I need that…”

Oh, right, backpack. “Whoops, there you go.” He tossed Midoriya’s belongings to their owner and watched the kid bustle up the stairs of the building and into one of the apartments. Then he fetched his phone and picked the third number on speed-dial.

“Tsukauchi? Do you have a moment? ….Ah, fine, thank you. Listen, can I drop by your place this evening? Something’s come up and I’d rather not discuss it on the phone… No, but definitely worth looking into sooner rather than later…”

He hung up a couple of exchanges later, after agreeing on the time for the meeting. Toshinori decided he had enough time to make his way back home, shower and have some sort of passable dinner before ruining his friend’s evening. And then he would head back home and he would sleep, even if he had to repeatedly bash his head against a wall to achieve that. He inhaled deeply and let out a long-overdue, exhausted sigh. 

What a day. 

Hopefully tomorrow wouldn’t be quite as taxing.

“THIEF”

Izuku was stuck on the spot, his feet and ankles wrapped in a thick layer of sludge that stretched on the ground as far as the eye could see. The faint light filtering from both ends of the underpass gave it flickering, changing hues, now green like bile, now brown like vomit, now black like tar. It smelled like sewer and dirty toilets. 

“BASTARD”

The slime clung to the walls of the underpass, climbing on them as if endowed with its own will. It crawled up higher and higher, and then went on to expand onto the ceiling. Its surface boiled and squirmed producing disgusting squelching sounds. Izuku looked away from the revolting goo-coated structure he was boxed in, he looked towards the exit, hoping that something, someone would show up to drag him out of that hell.

“GIVE IT BACK”

Someone emerged from the sludge, a few meters ahead of him. A man. A flabby, hairless, mucky man, with haunted eyes and a mouth open in a silent scream. He sweated slime, cried slime, drooled slime, from every orifice and every pore of his body. He waded towards Izuku slowly, an arm extended before him as if to grab him. Izuku couldn’t stand that sight either. He aimed his gaze at the ceiling, right when a huge bubble of gunk popped right above him, and chunky dollops of filth splashed on his face, into his nose and mouth.

“OR I’LL RIP IT OUT OF YOU”

Izuku coughed and heaved, trying to expel the repulsive substance from his pipes, but two cold, slick hands clamped around his throat, trapping it in his body. He could feel the ooze drip down into his lungs, his stomach- he could feel it wiggle and push, like a living parasite trying to break free from the flesh constraining it. Izuku scrambled to tear the man’s hands off him, but those too melted under his fingers like the same fluid that was everywhere, closing down on him, choking him, pulling him apart from the inside-

 Izuku woke up with a whole-body lurch that nearly sent him rolling off the bed, sweaty and breathless. He took in the familiar shadows of his room, and the red numbers of his alarm clock floating in the darkness at his eye level. 

6:20 AM.

Izuku turned on his belly with a frustrated groan, sinking his face into the pillow. Sure, he’d had a pretty harrowing day yesterday. It was bound to leave him a little shaken and maybe disturb his sleep for a while. But seven nightmares in the span of as many hours seemed slightly excessive. Especially seven instances of the exact same nightmare, sentient goo and Munch-like villain and all. The boy fumbled blindly for his phone to check if he’d received any new messages in the last fifty-five minutes. He hadn’t, of course. He prayed that All Might would contact him soon, it didn’t take a degree in psychology to guess the nature of the ‘unfinished business’ his subconscious was so keen on grilling him about.

He stared at the screen blankly, wondering, for roughly the hundredth time, if he should call his father. On one hand, he very probably should. If the man had deemed that little scuffle with Kacchan emergency-worthy, surely a mess this humongous in size warranted a call as well. On the other hand… Izuku didn’t really want to. 

The previous night’s news broadcast had covered the sludge villain incident rather haphazardly, it being a relatively contained accident with no serious consequences or injuries. Izuku was sure they had bothered to touch on the fact in the first place just because All Might had been involved, and the number one hero would receive prime time coverage even for something as trivial as being spotted buying soda at a convenience store. Curiously, Izuku hadn’t been mentioned at all, not even indirectly. Kacchan had been named and shown as the victim, the other heroes had been acknowledged, but All Might had been appointed as the sole person responsible for the resolution of the mishap. Not a word about any irresponsible middle schoolers joining the fray.

Izuku had taken it as a promising sign. All Might had likely interceded for him with the police and obtained a modicum of discretion about his involvement, at least in regards to the media. The hero had been so very understanding the previous day - just thinking about it made the boy almost tear up anew. He had barely reacted to the shocking revelation of his quirk, he had tolerated his unseemly outburst, he had spoken to him as if… as if Izuku was just another innocent victim caught up in a bad situation, rather than a potential menace. He hadn’t hesitated even for a second to offer him his hand, despite knowing the threat that Izuku’s own hands posed. He had… he had made him feel safe, and trusted. He had allowed Izuku to hope that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be fixed, that Izuku could handle it with his help, even without subjecting his father to undue sniveling.

And, objectively speaking, what could Izuku’s father do at this point? Izuku doubted that, regardless of his governmental position, the man could prevent the truth from spreading once it had reached both the police and the number one hero. Izuku could make an educated guess about his reaction too, and it wasn’t all that encouraging. It was too late for stern recommendations about secrecy, or for disappointed sighs and gratuitous snark about Izuku’s blind faith in All Might’s mediation skills. And, to be perfectly honest, Izuku dreaded the possibility of finally and completely alienating the sympathy of the one person that had supported and advised him for his whole life, in his own peculiar way. Yes, it was childish of him. Yes, he would have to tell his father anyway, eventually. But he’d rather do it after the matter had been settled, hopefully for the best, and after he’d had a little more time to gather his thoughts and figure out how to word it a little less unfavorably for himself. So, there. It was the 28th of April too, he could wait another day or two, at least. No biggie.

By breakfast time, Izuku had reviewed the issue three more times, had another nightmare, and accepted the fact that this was going to be a long day. 

School went by in that typical hazy fashion that was the result of intellectual activities synergizing poorly with a sleep-deprived brain. Izuku kept eyeing Kacchan warily throughout the first three classes, harboring the half-baked notion of addressing yesterday’s events. He regretted doing it the very moment he opened his mouth to greet him during recess.

“What?” Kacchan growled without sparing him a single glance.

“Uh, ah, I…” How are you was one possible conversation starter. A bad one, for sure. Worrying about Kacchan’s well-being implied that he may not be okay, which implied weakness, which invited aggression as a counter-argument. Did you tell anyone else about what I did yesterday was downright rude, as if Izuku’s quirk was more important than his friend being almost murdered. In fact, any reference to the villain incident was a minefield. Braver classmates than Izuku had already made their inquiries during homeroom, and Kacchan hadn’t taken kindly to their snooping. This really was a bad-

“WHAT?” Kacchan barked, turning sharply towards Izuku and banging his fist on his desk for emphasis.

“Uh, nothing! Just saying hello! Hi! Bye!” Izuku fled the classroom without looking back before Kacchan decided to force-feed him his own shoes.

The first bit of good news of the day reached him during lunch, under the guise of a text.

Hey kid! We can drop by the police station this afternoon at 5 if you’re free

Izuku brought up the virtual keyboard to reply, but he stopped with his finger poised over the screen. He blinked at the unlabeled string of digits identifying the sender.

He had All Might’s phone number. One of many, probably. Definitely one of the lowest priority lines. Or maybe just some sort of burner phone for communications with civilians only. Still. He had All Might’s phone number. All Might was texting him. The realization made him half-choke on his rice.

Should he save it? Would that be a breach of confidentiality? Even if he used a not-too-obvious handle? N1? SP? AM? Ante Meridiem? ...That would just make it more suspicious, wouldn’t it? He’d just… commit it to memory for now. In case he ever needed it again. For purely altruistic reasons.

Sure, I’m free! Thank you very much for the help!

Izuku’s phone chimed again a couple of minutes later.

We’ll come pick you up at your place

That ‘we’ raised a small wave of anxiety in Izuku, but he willed himself to suppress it. He couldn’t expect All Might to shield him from any and all interactions with the force. It’d be fine. He could handle this.

The perspective of visiting the villain revived Izuku’s attention for the remaining lessons, only for him to crash back into fidgety inactivity as soon as he got home and found himself without anything to do for almost two hours before the agreed time. Homework was out of the question, he was too distracted. He figured a nap would be the most inoffensive way to while away the time while also recovering some higher brain functions. And so it was only with a mild heart attack that Izuku was roused by the ringing of the doorbell at 4.50 PM.

“Young Midoriya! Good afternoon!” Even at a glance, Izuku could tell that All Might was in better shape than the previous day. He stood a bit straighter, his smile was a bit wider, his hair was slightly less chaotic. He was also wearing slacks and a button up shirt that, while still dramatically oversized, made him look a bit less like a phthisic hospital runaway. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes! Thank you so much for going out of your way to take care of me!” Izuku declared with a rigid bow to All Might and to the other man standing by his side - definitely a detective, judging by his stereotypical trench coat.

All Might patted the man on the back with an even bigger grin. “This is Naomasa Tsukauchi, my favorite detective on the force! You may speak freely before him, you won’t find anyone more trustworthy in the whole of Japan!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Midoriya.” Tsukauchi politely removed his hat and shook the boy’s hand with an amused smirk, a sign that he was probably familiar with the hero’s odd choice of an introduction. He then peeked behind Izuku’s shoulders towards the inside of the house. “Isn’t your mother going to join us?”

“Ah no, she had a doctor’s appointment booked for today. It’s fine though, I’ll just send her a text to let her know where I’m going.” Izuku had warned his mother that he may have to visit the precinct soon. He had had to justify his singed and grimy school uniform the day before, so he had told her that he’d been marginally involved in the sludge villain incident, and the police was likely to want to collect his statement on the matter. It was only by pure chance that the news broadcast hadn’t outed his abridgment of the facts.

“Ah… We were hoping to have a few words with her too, actually.” Tsukauchi glanced at All Might, whose eyes darted briefly between the detective and the boy.

“I… may have forgotten to mention that.” All Might scratched the back of his neck with an apologetic grimace. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped. We’ll catch up with her another time, if necessary.”

Izuku had the sneaking suspicion that being All Might’s favorite detective came at a price. Tsukauchi just sighed, before regarding him with a gentle smile. “Well, if you are sure you don’t mind coming with us all by yourself…”

“I don’t mind at all!” Izuku hurried to reassure them. 

A minute later he was in the backseat of Tsukauchi’s speeding car, typing a message to his mother and struggling to suppress a monstrous yawn, courtesy of his interrupted nap.

“Tired?” All Might asked, intercepting his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“A bit. I didn't sleep well last night.”

“Ah, I know that feeling.” The hero’s expression mellowed in sympathy. “I’m sure you’ll rest more easily once this is over and done with.”

“I hope so.” Izuku pocketed his phone and gazed at the moving buildings out of the car window, mostly just to break eye contact. Somehow All Might’s open kindness felt undeserved, especially for something as trivial as a bunch of spooky dreams. He focused on more urgent matters. “So, uh… how are we going to do this? Does the villain know I’m coming, will I explain things to him? Will you, uh, keep an eye on things from outside or accompany me...?”

“Well, we were thinking of throwing you into his cell, locking the door and letting the two of you fight for dominance and ownership over the quirk- “ All Might grinned widely in response to Izuku’s exasperated gape.

“Yagi!” The detective reprimanded him, only mildly scandalized. The name bounced a few times around Izuku’s brain, plain and mystifying at the same time.

“Sorry, just trying to lift his spirits.” 

“You have nothing to worry about, it’ll be perfectly safe.” Tsukauchi provided, clearly having a much better understanding of the state of Izuku’s spirits despite knowing him for a scant ten minutes. “The villain will be in his cell and we will escort you inside, of course. You won’t really interact with each other, as he’ll likely be deeply asleep.”

“Asleep?”

“Yes. The apparent loss of his quirk has upset him greatly. He’s barely spoken since we took him into custody, and he’s spent the whole night in severe emotional distress. We would have transferred him to a hospital this morning if you hadn’t agreed to help so promptly. As things stood, we simply had a doctor prescribe him a strong sedative. Hopefully he’ll settle down spontaneously after you return his quirk.”

The man’s words weighed on Izuku’s heart like a ton of bricks. Damn, that was… horrible. He’d been holding onto someone else’s quirk for barely a day, and it had already caused that much sorrow. That wasn’t how Izuku’s power was supposed to be used. It would never be, as far as he was concerned.

“I’m sure he will.” All Might commented, all traces of humour vanished from his demeanor. “Don’t worry, kid. It’ll be a matter of a minute.”

Izuku nodded, and didn’t speak again for the rest of the trip. When they reached their destination, he let All Might guide him towards the detention area of the complex while Tsukauchi wandered off somewhere else, probably taking care of the bureaucratic side of things. He reappeared relatively soon, and they entered one of the cells all together.

The cell was small and mostly barren, furnished with only the most essential goods and surfaces for a relatively short stay. Idly, Izuku wondered what systems they had in place to prevent a… slippery criminal such as the current occupant from escaping from toilets or sinks. Surely they were prepared to- he realized he was spacing out. He should just get on with it.

The villain was indeed sleeping, huddled in a small foldable bedding on the floor. Izuku had barely caught a glimpse of the man’s human form the previous day, yet he was identical to how he’d envisioned him in his dreams. His subconscious was just that observant, apparently. It suddenly occurred to Izuku that he hadn’t even asked for the man’s name yet. The news broadcast hadn’t reported- he was procrastinating again. Just do it, Izuku.

The boy glanced questioningly at the detective, who made a small gesture to indicate that he was free to proceed. He approached his assailant and crouched beside him. The villain’s hand was sticking out from under the blanket, next to his head. Izuku rested his palm against the back of it, and simply willed the quirk out. 

Just like that, it was done. Izuku stood up and stepped back as the man’s body swiftly changed its texture and color, morphing and rearranging itself until a vaguely man-shaped, green heap of goo had replaced the slumbering human. The villain remained dead to the world throughout the entire process.

“...I’m done.” Izuku whispered, quite redundantly. He peered back at the two men at the opposite side of the room, and he didn’t miss the quick, sharp side-glance they’d just quietly exchanged.

“Thank you very much for your cooperation.” Tsukauchi said with the utmost honesty once they were again in the hallway. “While you’re here, would you mind if I collected your statement about the incident? It won’t take long, we already have a clear picture of the situation thanks to All Might.”

“Uh… Okay.” Izuku had hoped, rather optimistically, to skip that part, but he had no reasonable excuse to refuse. Tsukauchi led them to an empty room a couple of corridors further ahead, and held the door open for them. All Might lingered on the threshold.

“May I sit in?” His question was aimed at Izuku for some reason, rather than at his friend. 

“Of course!” Izuku confirmed, when both adults just stared at him in silence, clearly waiting for his permission. The hero thanked him with a small nod and an equally small smile.

They all sat around the desk in the middle of the room, Tsukauchi on one side, and Izuku and All Might on the other. It struck Izuku as a little strange, automatically expecting the two upholders of the law to face him side by side. He wondered if it may be a setup for some sort of good-cop-bad-cop routine. Not that either of them seemed especially suited to the latter role. Tsukauchi was very much the embodiment of professionalism, and All Might… All Might looked especially non-threatening in that moment, almost meek. He was sitting very tidily, big hands folded in his lap and long legs pressed against each other, occupying a remarkably small space considering the size of his frame. It made Izuku straighten his back and sit more neatly by reflex.

The questioning did proceed very smoothly at first. Tsukauchi let Izuku narrate his version of the events without interrupting at all, just humming and jotting down a few lines in his notepad now and then. All Might was just as unobtrusive, volunteering a sentence or two when Izuku happened to stumble on his words, or when he openly allowed him to recount the little scene on the rooftop, since the detective was already in on the big secret. Smooth sailing all round, until the point when Izuku had to bring up his quirk.

“On the subject of your quirk… when did it first manifest, exactly?” Tsukauchi asked.

“A little less than two years ago.”

“Ah, you’re quite the late bloomer! And you’ve only shared that fact with your friend Bakugo and your father, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And your father is one... Hisashi Midoriya, right?” Tsukauchi fished out a sheet of paper from the folder he’d retrieved before beginning the interrogation. He slid it across the table so that the boy could read it.

“Yes.” Izuku blinked, an undefined sense of unease gripping him all of a sudden. “...Why did you bother printing his personal details?”

“You’ve been filed as quirkless in the national registry after a routine medical examination when you were four years old. Your registration hasn’t been updated since then, as far as I could ascertain.” Tsukauchi explained calmly.

“Y-Yeah. I know.”

“...That is a punishable offense, I’m afraid. An accurate quirk registration is mandatory for all citizens.” Tsukauchi’s expression softened when Izuku utterly failed to hide his dismay. “This has no consequence on you, as minors aren’t expected to take care of these things by themselves, especially since quirk recording is often carried out when they’re extremely young. Your mother bears no blame either if, as you say, she’s as clueless about it as the rest of the world. But if your father knew and neglected to sort out the necessary paperwork for so long-”

“Oh.” Oh. Oh crap. Izuku had never thought of that. Why on earth had he never thought of that? Why, in almost two years, had he never considered the legal implications of all that secrecy? Why hadn’t his father? “Are you going to press charges against him?”

“Not yet. We’re at least going to get in touch with him and hear him out before taking any further steps.” The detective gave him a genuinely reassuring smile. “But even if we did, there is no cause for concern. These bureaucratic hitches are usually settled with a small fine.”

“I-I see.” Izuku gulped. He wasn’t going to wait until May. He was going to call his father as soon as he was alone. This probably wasn’t going to snowball into a lengthy legal conundrum, but still…

“What’s his occupation? I’m reading ‘administrative assistant’ here, which is a bit generic…”

“I don’t know much about that. He works for the government, I think, and he always says that all his activities are classified, so I try not to pry... Too much…”

“That is very judicious of you. I wish you could teach some of that tact to my sister…” Tsukauchi sighed, only half-jokingly. All Might let out a low chuckle at that. “Does your father know that you’ve been so reserved about your quirk so far?”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t find it odd in the slightest?”

“...No.” 

“Why do you think that is?” Izuku was suddenly very aware of both adults observing him quite intently. He really didn’t want to make things look any worse for his father. He could… slightly reframe the truth, maybe.

“I, uhm… Mine is a bit of a unique quirk. Difficult to use without, uh, stepping on other people’s toes. And I’ve been quirkless for most of my life, and… it’s no mystery that I envied other kids a lot because of that. I was worried that my schoolmates could be wary of me if they knew that I could… act on that envy now.”

Tsukauchi hummed, twirling his pen slowly between his fingers. “I can understand your concern. But quirk counselling is specifically designed to help children cope with such issues, and you’ve been missing out on it because of this extreme discretion. Your father should have realized he was doing you more harm than good by letting these fears fester in your mind.”

Izuku dropped his gaze on his father’s profile sheet. Detective Tsukauchi had a point, but… the matter was more complicated than that, as well as intricately intertwined with his father’s job and the troubled history of their quirk, and… Izuku didn’t want to delve into any of that at the moment. 

“We’ll definitely schedule some counselling sessions for you in the future, I’m sure you’ll find them beneficial.” Tsukauchi hesitated. “...Did something catch your attention?”

Something did, in fact. Izuku was idly skimming through the content of his father’s profile, and a couple of details were giving him pause. The first was, unsurprisingly, his father’s listed quirk. Fire Breathing.

...nor do I have it printed in bold letters in my personal documents…

Yeah, Izuku wasn’t going to bring that up. The other thing, a little more surprisingly, was his photo.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just… I haven’t seen any photos of my father in a long time.”

“You haven’t seen ‘any photos’ of him?” Tsukauchi cocked his head curiously.

“Yeah… I’ve never met him in person, he travels a lot because of his job and he never has enough time to stop by. I only know what he looks like because of an old photo my mother showed me. I haven’t seen it in years too, so…”

“Only a single photo, uh? And this picture here doesn’t strike you as familiar?”

Izuku observed it more closely... No, he was surely mistaken. “No no, there’s… there’s definitely a resemblance. Mine was a very old photo, taken before I was born. And it wasn’t even a photo of him specifically, he just happened to be in it, at an odd angle and in the middle of a crowd… I’m sure this one is more accurate.”

“Are you still in possession of that photo, by any chance?” All Might chimed in unexpectedly, his bright eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes, I think so… Hang on, let me check.” Izuku fetched his phone, opened the internet browser… Crap, it really had been a long time since he’d looked at the thing. Back then, he’d saved the file his mother had passed him on a free online storage site that… hopefully still existed? He hadn’t used it in at least four years. Was his account still active? Could he even retrieve the credentials with his current email address? “Uh… Actually, I don’t think I can get it right away. But I printed a copy of it once, it should be at home… somewhere…” Stashed in one of those boxes of old notebooks and magazines on top of his wardrobe, right? Or had it been thrown away when they had moved to their current apartment…? He fiddled with his phone with growing discomfort, acutely aware of the utter unhelpfulness of his babbling.

“We’d certainly be grateful if you could retrieve that photo for us, when you have a minute.” All Might finally conceded, taking pity on Izuku's floundering.

“Sure! I’ll try to find it as soon as I get home.”

“Much obliged.” Tsukauchi flipped quickly through his folder. Izuku was about to ask why the mention of that photo had sparked their interest so much, when Tsukauchi put Hisashi's file back into the folder and closed it with a snap. “Well, I think we’ve covered everything. Again, you’ve been immensely valuable to us, Midoriya.”

Izuku let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. All Might positively beamed at him and flashed him a thumbs up, which was its own, heart-warming reward. They all stood up and made to leave, when Izuku remembered he owed the two men a proper thanks.

“Ah, I really appreciate that you used your influence to… to get the papers off my back. It was… unreasonable of me to ask, but I  really  appreciate you humoring my hope for discretion anyway. I hope that it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

Tsukauchi and All Might traded a puzzled glance. 

“We did nothing of the sort, kid. What makes you-” All Might stopped, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Ah! You did mention it yesterday, didn’t you? That you were expecting your friend to expose your quirk…”

“Yes. I… I imagine Kacchan told the journalists, and you took care of, uh, correcting his version?”

“No, no, there was no need to.” All Might waved his hand dismissively. “Your friend didn’t mention you at all. He was on the verge of fainting when you rushed in, he’d been strenuously fighting back against the villain for a while by that time. He was too exhausted to notice your intervention, and you bolted immediately afterwards. He never realized you were there.”

Izuku’s jaw dropped half-way open, but he shut it immediately with an audible click. 

“...Ah.” Kacchan hadn’t realized. The bystanders hadn’t realized. The police hadn’t realized. All Might hadn’t really realized. That meant that no one, no one, would know about his quirk right now… if he hadn’t gone and spilled the beans about it himself. If he hadn’t dumped an unnecessary confession to the number one hero out of sheer, emotional anxiety.

...Boy, that next phone call was going to be one for the ages.

[kiraakirana]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩'𝙨 𝙚𝙮𝙚 | h. kakashi

─────────────────────♡──────────────────────

Tonight, a firework display will be held to celebrate Lady Tsunade's inauguration as the 5th Hokage. After going through vulnerable and unstable days after Orochimaru's attack and the 3rd Hokage's death, the villagers of Konoha finally come together to witness a new beginning under a new leader. A new light finally emerged from the brim of sadness, once again giving everyone hope towards a bright future for Konoha.

It was the talk of the village for the past few days, everybody was deciding what kimono to wear and who to invite. As you would be working late that night, you agreed to meet up with your friends at the firework display after you're done with everything.

You could hear the distant laughter and cheeriness while you were walking towards the venue. You smiled to yourself, happy that the depressing days after the attack is over and that the villagers are back on their feet. You had a purple kimono on with your hair down and a white flower clipping as an accessory. You were quite in a rush, so you didn't really put that much thought into it.

After talking with your friends for a while, you felt uncomfortable being a 5th wheel as it turned out that they each brought partners. Excusing yourself, you searched through the crowd for a certain shinobi with a distinct white hair. You weren't sure if he attended or not as he's not that much of a people person. But you were relieved when you saw him near one of the food stands with none other than Guy-sensei.

"Hi," you said as you gently tapped his shoulder. He was wearing a blue kimono with his mask, as always, still on.

"Hey," he replied as he put down his Icha-Icha tactics. "Eh? didn't see you earlier."

"Yeah, I just arrived a few minutes ago, had to work late for an impor- shit," you said abruptly. Panicking, you hastily went behind Kakashi's back to hide yourself when you saw the two guys who asked you out yesterday.

"What happened?"

"I'll explain to you later, help me hide please," you said quietly. Seeing how pathetic your hiding strategy is, Kakashi pushed you softly into an empty alley nearby and positioned himself dangerously close to you. He put his right hand on the wall next to you as an attempt to hide your face from whoever you were trying to hide from. Although it was considerably effective, it wasn't good for your heart, afraid Kakashi could hear its loud beating. Leaning close he said, "This way people wouldn't even try to approach."

You could only nod, looking down to gather your thoughts as you felt your cheeks heating up. Damn this copy ninja! Does he realize the things he could do to you? You have the hots for him and has been desperately trying to keep it oblivious, but right now, you weren't sure if you could keep your feelings in check from how close you two were.

"Well, if this isn't convenient," you muttered under your breath. Not wanting to waste this chance by looking away, you looked up to see Kakashi giving you a smile. "Well, if you don't tell me who you're hiding from, we would stay like this until tomorrow morning," he added, "Not that I have any problems with that."

Embarrassed, you pushed Kakashi and stomped away, "They're gone already." You then looked back at him who looked nonchalant about the entire thing, much like his usual self, walking behind you. To you, it seemed like he was acting indifferent, but you failed to notice that Kakashi was a nervous wreck. Even when his fingertips would brush your skin subtly, it would send shivers down his body. He was giving it his all to hold himself back and not get caught up in the moment.

How could he not? You were a famous kunoichi known for your intelligence and beauty. Despite being younger than him by a few years, he admired your maturity and tendency to remain cool-headed at all times. It's not rare that he overhears his comrades complimenting you. You were a truly skilled and hardworking shinobi who earned everybody's respect.

"Thanks," you said quickly.

"Couldn't hear you," he teased.

"I hate you," you replied while turning away. Kakashi was your senior in ANBU and because of your great chemistry and teamwork, you two were often sent together on missions, therefore explaining your close relationship. He was always there to give you advice and comfort you whenever you felt homesick during long missions.

It wasn't until Kakashi was discharged from ANBU that you felt his great impact on your life. You were in denial for quite some time, until you came to the conclusion that the reason you were constantly worrying and missing him was not because you were simply his friend, no. It was a feeling much stronger than that.

"Is this the thank you I get for saving you?"

You swiftly grabbed his hand and took him to the rooftop across the one where Guy and his team were sitting. This was the best place to see the fireworks and it also meant less chance to encounter the two guys you saw before.

"I saw the two guys that asked me out, they also asked me to go to the firework display with them."

"And you rejected them?"

"Yeah, I said I couldn't go tonight," she shrugged, "I mean, I'd rather go with someone else."

"Then why aren't you with this guy right now?"

That question caught you off guard. "Well, he's definitely here right now," you said awkwardly, "But I wasn't brave enough to ask him to go with me. Besides, I wasn't sure if watching firework is his thing," you said, letting out a laugh. Knowing him, you were sure he'd rather stay at home to read his books. You made a mental note to thank Guy for dragging him here.

"Oh."

"You're not going to press me further about who that person is?"

"No," he shrugged.

"You’re no fun," you said jokingly, although it was an attempt to persuade him to ask you more questions. 

He laughed and said, "Okay then, who's the lucky guy?"

"Well there's no fun in it if you directly ask me who he is, you have to guess."

"Then, what's this person like?"

"Um, let me think," you said as you carefully thought about him, "He may seem very nonchalant at first, but deep down he's someone who cares a lot for his comrades."

"Hm, that wouldn't narrow the options by a lot. How does he look like?"

"He has a distinct hair, tall..."

"Why do you like him?"

"I feel safest around him. He's a truly wonderful person, I wish I had the guts to tell him that. I feel like he doubts himself a lot. He needs to know that a lot of people are grateful for him, including me. I've never liked anyone else the same way I like him."

"As your senior, I say you should just straight-up tell him about how you feel,” he gave you a smile and a thumbs-up to encourage you. 

“Ah, so she has a special someone. I mean, it’s no surprise right? Someone like her couldn’t possibly be single forever. I guess I was too late, huh?” thought Kakashi. 

"Well, I don't know if he feels the same way..." you said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. 

"But there's no telling unless you tell him right?"

"Yeah, I guess...”

To hell with pride.

"I like you, Kakashi."

"Wait, I mean you should tell him that, not me."

"Huh? This whole time I was talking about you, damn it."

"Uh? So you?" he looked at you, surprised. You didn't know what made him so surprised though, wasn't that obvious hints? Who else has distinct hair in Konoha? Okay, aside from Guy and a few other people... Yeah, maybe you should've just said 'white hair' but it would be like giving it away.

"Yeah, whatever you're trying to say. If you're going to reject me, at least wait until the firework's over so you don't ruin it."

It was silent for a while and all you wanted to do was throw yourself to the river. Just kidding. You should've stayed home. But then again, there's no better time than right now. It’s either now or never. You had to get the weight off your chest and you’ve prepared for the worst possible outcome for years. "You know what, I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous for me to like you when you have so many other-"

"I like you too, Y/N."

"Girls fawning over-" you froze for a moment and looked at him in disbelief, "Wait, did you just?"

"Come," he said as he stood up and gave her his hand, "I know a place where you can see the fireworks much better." It was one of your favorite Kakashi smiles, the one where you couldn't see his eyes. Despite not being able to see the rest of his face, this was enough to put the butterflies in her stomach.

It was a place near the river, far from the busy crowd. The water moves calmly and the fireworks could be seen clearly. "You know, I was serious when I said those things. I really see you as a wonderful person."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a very lucky guy."

"But don't get too full of yourself," you said jokingly, landing a weak punch on his arm.

You looked at Kakashi, who was laughing wholeheartedly, in awe. This was truly a sight to remember. Feeling entirely grateful, you gave him a shy hug, hiding your face on his kimono. Y/N who was usually a confident, collected person, became a mess whenever he's around. Only he’s able to do that. 

Kakashi ran his fingers through your hair soothingly and rested his head on top of yours. Despite the loud cracks of the fireworks, you could subtly hear Kakashi's soft voice saying, "Thank you, Y/N."

-

A/N: this is inspired after seeing Kakashi on episode 306 of Shippuden called ‘The Heart’s Eye’. It was so cute seeing Kakashi in a kimono, I just want to give him the biggest hug:(