#but I have stubbornness and a creative vision so I’m Gonna Do It

[stealingyourbones]

Working on the twitch streamer Tucker animatic and I decided to cave and switch from animating in Photoshop to Adobe Animate and oh bOY are the controls confusing

Oh and update on it all, I have completed the script, storyboard, and Tucker’s emotes. Next is voice acting and animation.

[rezzyromance]

Hey, I already read some of your headcanons and loved your One-Shots of Heisy <3 May I request a Heisenberg X Reader One-Shot who is also German? Like they would be a tourist and stumble over the Village etc. Heisenberg will take care of her (which was chosen by Miranda). When arriving in his factory, he would notice their accent. How would his reaction be if he'd find out their native language is the same as the origin of his family? (F!Reader or GN!Reader pls!)

Ah this is so creative thank you!

You felt your head pound before you even opened your eyes. You could hear faint voices growing louder as your body and mind began to slowly wake up. "What the fuck happened?", you thought to yourself. You meant to go on a simple vacation to a secluded area in Romania. Life had gotten so stressful that you just decided to take a trip far away. The last thing you expected was to crash the car you were driving into a tree. Your thoughts began to gather from the haziness inside your head. It all seemed like a weird fucked up dream. You remember seeing something weird outside your car window which caused you to crash. It looked like... a werewolf.. or some other horrific beast. Then bam! It all went black and now here you are.

"She's an outsider! There is no telling how she got here mother, but she already has seen to much. If she were given to me, I'd make sure she'd stay quiet.", a powerful female voice rang. You slowly began to open your eyes. It was hard to open them past a squint due to the outrageous pain coming from your head. Your vision was blurry, but you could make out the silhouettes of a very tall lady in white, a strange hunched-over man, a black figure with a small white doll, a man sitting on a pew, and a woman in the center with a strange mask. "Oh come on! She's got to be of some use other than empty calories for you!", the man on the pew sasses. "How dare you! You stupid little manthing!", her voice boomed in the church. Were they.. fighting over you? It was impossible to put the pieces together. No one even noticed you were awake.

"SILENCE! BOTH OF YOU!", the woman in the middle demanded as wings spread from her back. "Heisenberg, you may take her. Just please adjust your attitude! I never want to hear you two fight over this again. Do you understand?" "Yes mother.", they both responded in an aggravated tone. You still haven't moved, but you begin to open your eyes more. The man on the pew became clearer. He was wearing a coat and a hat. Sunglasses covered his eyes and he had a large metallic hammer propped beside him. "This meeting is dismissed.", the woman says before vanishing into nothing but black feathers. You couldn't tell if you were dreaming or possibly died and went to hell, but you were far too scared to scream.

"Ah. Seems like my prize is awake.", the man makes his way over to you and kneels down to face you. You just then noticed that your wrists were cuffed and you had been laying on the ground the whole time. "How are you feeling?", he cocks his head. You're unable to form words as you're too overwhelmed by everything. "Well... I don't hear any bitching so I'll assume you feel fine. Can you stand?", he asks. You wiggle your legs, shocked at how they suddenly feel heavy. They're still asleep from whatever happened after you hit the tree. He helps lift you off the ground and to your feet, but your legs shake beneath you. You begin to fall, but he catches you. "Looks like you still need some rest.", he picks you up bridal style. Your head was still hurting, so you close your eyes.

"This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream. This is just a bad dream.", you repeated to yourself in your head.

"Home sweet home.", he says. You open your eyes and realize you had drifted off to sleep and had woken up again, confirming this wasn't a dream. You were still in his arms as you looked around, taking in the scenery. It looked like a factory. "You've got some blood on you still. That was a pretty bad crash. Luckily, you don't have any broken bones. But if you keep actin like this, I might have to assume you got some brain damage.", he laughs a little at his own words. He carries you to what looks like some type of workshop room. There, he sits you down in a chair and begins to rummage for some supplies to help your wounds.

You finally gain the guts to speak up. ".. can you please get rid of these cuffs on my wrists?" He jumps slightly at your unexpected voice and unexpected accent. It was an accent he recognized, but hadn't heard in so long. "Sure thing.", he flicks his wrist towards you and the cuffs break and fall off your wrists. You look down, shocked, as you roll your wrists around and stare at them.

"How did you do that?!" He approaches you slowly with his supplies, and he dampens a rag with rubbing alcohol. He squints his eyes at you for a moment as if he's thinking hard about something. "Don't worry about it.", he crouches down and begins to rub your head with the rag. The rubbing alcohol stings and you wince at the pain. "Sit still..", he continues to wipe at your forehead which you now realize must have a cut on it. "I'm sorry.", you say quietly, afraid of disrupting the man.

"Where did you come from? How did you get here?", he begins to question you. He stops rubbing your face and steps back to stare into your eyes. His were intimidating and demanding. You speak up. "I am.. from Germany. I came here for a vacation and.. I think I got into an accident.", you say. "Germany, huh.", he seems to daze off slightly when he says this. "I figured. I can hear it in your voice." Why is he so interested by this?

"You're name is.. Heisenberg? Correct?", your words snap him back to the present. "Yes. Karl Heisenberg. And you are?", he becomes engaged in the conversation once more. "I'm (Y/N). Karl Heisenberg.... that is a very German sounding name.", you try to make conversation. "Well, my family was German. It's just been so long... I nearly forgot what it sounded like..", he gets up and walks back to the box in which held first aid supplies. "Your family.. who are they?", you ask, confused from his lack of context. The mentioning of his family causes him to freeze in place.

"It's.... been a long time. Don't worry about it.", he finds a bandaid and walks over to you. He puts the bandaid on your forehead to cover your cut. "It's just nice to hear it again." There was a bitter sweetness to his words. The room goes silent after that, but there's a new tenseness in the air.

"What's... happening? Where am I?", you ask. It's almost comical how long it took you to ask. "Well.... to put it short.. you got into your little accident and this is probably the worst place it could've happened. You were found by Mother Miranda before the lycans were able to get to you. The fact that you're here already means you know too much, so the only options where either to have you killed or be put to use by one of the Lords. Donna never participates in these types of things and Moreau is to idiotic to speak up. Your life was either gonna be in my hands or the hands of that supersized bitch. I know what she does to girls like you and I didn't want that to happen so now you're here."

You have no clue how to respond. Mother Miranda? Lycans? What does it all mean? "I know it's a lot to take in. But, I have a plan to get out of here one day. Once you start feeling better, maybe you can help me. I like you. I like the way you talk." He probably means your accent since he seems so focused on it. "The way I talk...", you cock your head and look into his eyes, trying to get a reaction. He breaks the eyecontact and looks at the ground. "My mother and father always wanted to keep the culture and language alive through the family. I didn't get to learn too much as a kid, but I remember the accent. It's... really nice." He becomes overwhelmed with his own emotions. He didn't want to admit you or himself that something as silly as a strangers voice was so comforting to him. He keeps his composure and walks back to where the first aid box is to pack it up once more.

"Your family is gone?", you almost regret saying it the moment it left your lips. Was it too personal? You tense up as he stays silent for a little too long. "Yes." Once he's done, he turns to look at you. "How do you feel? Can you stand up now?", he changes the subject. You wiggle your legs a little to prepare. The feeling had come back to them, so you stand up. You lift each leg to check for any abnormalities, but they feel fine other than a bit of soreness. The rest of your body was the same. You ached all over but it wasn't excruciating.

"Well, looks like you'll be fine. That gash on your forehead is probably the worst of your injuries, but I don't think it needs stitches." "Thank you for helping me. Is there anything I can do to return the favor?, your words catch him off guard. "Just don't get in my way and we'll both be fine.", he tries to put on some type of stubborn act to cover up how weirdly flustered your words made him. "I can teach you some German if you'd like. You said you never got to learn much so maybe I can help you." He chuckles a little. The corners of his lips slowly rise into a small smile. "Maybe so."

[imagineanythings]

Exhausted (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 4.7k

You’re the type of person who always needs to push yourself to your limits, and Steve doesn’t always approve. 

warnings: slight smut, nudity, death mention, hurt/comfort

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You had always been incredibly stubborn. It was a trait that came in handy in your work in espionage; you were hard to crack in interrogation and would do whatever it took to complete your mission. On the other hand, it was usually pretty detrimental to your health and wellbeing. You were more than willing to put your life on the line for the sake of a mission, and you were known for pushing yourself well past your limits in training sessions. You usually didn’t stop until you or your training partner were physically incapable of going on. You knew that the other avengers worried about you, particularly golden boy Steve and your best friend Wanda, but you usually just shook off their concerns. Bucky and Nat were always more than willing to go round after round with you in the ring or spot you as you lifted until your body gave out. They understood your need to push yourself and they were always there to help you do it safely. Having them made it easier to ignore the disapproving looks Steve always shot at you as you came wobbling out of the gym, trying to maintain your balance on exhausted legs. Those looks always gave you a deep pain in your stomach, like you had just been caught doing something wrong. Your gut twisted up into a knot as you ducked your head to avoid the gaze of America’s golden boy. You weren’t sure why, but you hated it so much when he looked at you like that.

Today was a tough day. Your mission a few days ago had gone south, which meant a lot of improvising and more casualties than there should have been. You were taking it particularly hard as you had taken point on the mission. Those deaths were completely your fault, and the guilt was weighing you down. You had barely slept. The night was plagued with visions of it all going wrong, some of true events and some of false, twisted worst case scenarios that your mind had created. After another nightmare and an abrupt wake up at 6 AM, you decided that you had gotten as much sleep as you were going to get that night. You got yourself up and out of bed and quickly found Bucky, who as luck would have it, was already in the gym, no doubt trying to exhaust himself to the point where his thoughts wouldn’t be so loud, which was coincidentally the same thing you were planning on doing. “Hey! Barnes!” You yelled as you entered the gym. He dropped the large weights he was curling and turned to look at you.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up” He pulled you in for a hug once you got close enough, you sighed at the warmth and comfort despite his sweat.

“Oh you know, just trying to outrun the demons,” you joked as you tied your shoes, earning a small smile from him.

“I know how you feel” He said, still smiling, but you could hear the slight sadness in his voice.

“Come on Buck, how does some sparring sound?” You asked, climbing up into the ring. He smiled and wordlessly followed you.

Bucky was one of your favorite people to spar with. He was much bigger than you while still being almost as fast and agile, which forced you to get creative. He also wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty, which you loved. He’d pull your hair or sweep your legs out from underneath you or you’d climb on his back and cover his eyes, one time you even bit him when you found yourself running out of options. You’d never seen him look so shocked and deranged as he did after you sunk your teeth into his forearm, but you knew that both of you loved it. He had retaliated by actually pulling a knife on you, which was a first in your hand to hand training sessions. It wasn’t just physical, it was a mental game, sparring with Bucky, and you found it was one of the absolute best ways to keep your mind off of all of your horrible failures. You knew he felt similarly, you could see the way his shoulders relaxed and lost their tension when he stepped into the ring, the way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips twitched upwards when you landed a particularly good hit. Sparring with Bucky was therapeutic and exactly what you needed right now. Being a supersoldier, his stamina was much better than yours, and he never went easy on you. He would let you work until you physically couldn’t anymore. Even when your punches began to lag and your form became sloppy, he continued to deliver precise hits, easily taking you down over and over and over again. You would always just shake it off and bounce back up, eager to try again. On one particularly tough takedown though, where he delivered clean hits to your side, stomach, and chest all in rapid succession before grabbing your wrist when you made a weak attempt to hit back and tossing you easily over his shoulder like a ragdoll, you remained down for much longer than usual. He could see that you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Your chest heaved and your eyes had inadvertently filled with tears. You reached up quickly and wiped them away but it was too late, Bucky had already seen them, and he could hear the rasping of your slightly panicked, shallow breaths.

“Alright doll,” He said, offering you his hand, “I think that’s enough for one day,” You begrudgingly accepted and allowed him to pull you up to your feet, where you stood shakily, catching your breath for a moment. He put a gentle hand on your back as you hunched over, still trying to get the air to return to your lungs, and you both just stood there for a few moments before he spoke again. “You sure you’re ok, doll? I’m sorry if I went too hard there, I should have slowed down, I’m so so sorry” you could feel him panicking so you forced yourself to straighten up and you put a gentle hand on his flesh arm.

“You’re gonna have to do a lot worse if you really wanna take me out of commission, Barnes” you flashed him a smile and he let out a shaky breath and a nod. You managed to hold back a grimace until he had turned away for a moment.

“Good to know,” He said after the few moments you both took to collect yourselves, helping you out of the ring and handing you a water bottle, which you gratefully took. After a few more moments of recollecting yourself and getting your breath back you gave Bucky a quick hug and decided to head back to your room for a shower. “Thanks Buck, I really needed that,” you called over your shoulder on the way out.

“Anytime Doll! You know where to find me!” He called after you, bringing a small smile across your lips.

You moved shakily through the halls of the compound, adrenaline now totally worn off, the weakness and soreness of your muscles achingly loud. You had to brace yourself against the walls of the elevator in order to stay upright. Your head was swimming and you knew, once again, you had pushed it too far. Stepping out into the hall was even worse, you were dizzy and stars flitted across your vision. As you walked down the hall towards your room, you spotted Steve exiting his own room, which was directly across the hall from yours. You suppressed a groan as you knew within seconds that trademark disapproving golden boy stare would be upon you. He looked up after locking his door and saw you immediately, but instead of seeing that disappointed glare that you were expecting to adorn his face, his features softened. You must have really looked like shit.

“Y/N” He said softly, rushing to your side and allowing you to steady yourself against him.

“’m alright” you grumbled, trying to shove him off, but he just wrapped an arm around your waist to help keep you upright.

“You look like you’re about to pass out. Y/N have you eaten today?” Steve asked. Truthfully, you hadn’t eaten that day. You had made it a rule not to eat before training in the mornings if at all possible. A few heavy cardio sessions followed by a well placed hit to the stomach forcing your breakfast back up your throat had convinced you to hold off of food until after training. You shook your head and Steve let out a frustrated sigh. There it was. The disappointment that you knew would show up eventually. Your stomach felt like it was continually tying itself up in knots and you weren’t sure if it was from the exhaustion or Steve’s palpable frustration with you.

“Come on, let’s get you in your room” He said, voice gentle and absent, the frustration you had heard so clearly moments ago barely detectable. He slowly helped you into your room, where you crumpled down onto the edge of your bed with a sigh. He disappeared out of your room and you were relieved to be left alone for a moment before he returned, a bottle of gatorade, a bottle of water, and a bag of trailmix in hand. He handed you the gatorade first. “Come on, you need to replenish your electrolytes.” You sighed and begrudgingly sat up to drink a few sips of the gatorade before lying back down.

“I can take care of myself you know,” you said, your tone more harsh than you had expected it to sound.

“I know,” his voice sounded somehow both fond and a bit sad, “but it seemed like you might need some help right now,” You shook your head and sighed, fighting back tears that you hadn’t even known were coming. Your vision was still swimming with those stupid tiny white stars and the exhaustion had caught up to your body and you felt horrible because you cost some brave people their lives and you were so embarrassed because you were breaking down in front of none other than Steve Rogers, who always looks at you like a child who deserves a timeout with those goddamn piercing blue eyes and you just know he can’t stand you and it’s all just too much. The tears came in droves and you couldn’t stop them. You threw your arms across your face to hide it but you knew Steve wasn’t that oblivious. You just wanted to crawl away and cry and hide from everyone but before you could even try to move you felt two large hands pulling your arms away from your face and wiping at your tears.

“Hey,” he said quietly, searching your eyes for answers. His bright blue stare made you want to hide even more, but you forced yourself to shakily hold his gaze, tears still coming. “You can talk to me you know, what’s going on?” He asked, reaching out to wipe your tears again. You sighed and slowly sat up. You had to fight the urge to rest your head on his shoulder and let him hold you while you sobbed. Instead you just let him put a gentle hand on your shoulder. You searched for the words but when you came up empty you just shook your head.

“Sorry,” was all you could manage, which to your surprise pulled a small chuckle from Steve.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be apologizing for right now, doll.” Steve said and you sighed, once again searching for the words.

“I’m just...” you trailed off, looking at the ceiling as if it could give you the answers. Steve waited patiently while you organized your thoughts. “I’m just sorry that I’m always letting you down. I know you don’t agree with my choices most of the time and I know you think I’m some irresponsible child, and hell maybe I am, I mean just yesterday I literally....” you couldn’t say that out loud, not yet, you weren’t ready to work through all of it. You swallowed and continued “I’m always going to do what I have to do to keep going, and I shouldn’t care if you don’t like me for it because I’m going to do what I want regardless of what people think but at the same time it feels like a knife in my gut whenever you look at me like you can’t believe someone like me ended up on a team like this.” You were rambling but you stopped yourself before it could go any further. “I’m just going to try and shower.” You stood up on unstable legs and Steve could see your entire body shaking from exhaustion and panic. He stood quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug. He could really feel you shaking now, pressed up so close against his body, like you were going to shatter at any moment. When you found your face pressed up against his shirt, breathing in his cologne and scent you lost it. You broke down and just let all the tears that you’d been holding in escape. If it weren’t for his arms wrapped tightly around you, you were sure your legs would have given out beneath you. You both stood like that for a few minutes, you sobbing into his chest as he stroked your hair and back and tried to make you feel safe. The shaking of your body went straight through his very being. Once your crying had slowed and he could feel your heart rate decreasing he tilted your chin upwards so he could look at you. Your eyes met his and he felt like you had his chest in a vice-grip, all tightness and pressure. His chest was completely and painfully empty, all that remained was an aggressive aching brought on by your red puffy eyes. He hated that he had a hand in making you feel like that.

“Hey,” he said quietly, fingers still gently resting on your chin. “I’ve never thought that of you.” He spoke slowly, voice barely above a whisper, his words deliberate and true. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should share more. “I...” he began, slowly gaining the confidence to say what he felt, “I only seem like I disapprove because I care about you... so much” Your breath caught in your throat. “It kills me to see you so beaten down and exhausted and all I want to do is help you but I never know how, I’m so sorry you thought anything else.” You examined his eyes to see he now seemed to be holding back tears as well. You placed a soft hand on his cheek and reached up on your toes to give him a small kiss on the side of his face next to your fingers. He blushed a bit, and spoke again, “you can always come to me, you know that right? I won’t work you as hard as Natasha, or put up nearly as much of a fight as Buck, but I’ll always be here when you need this,” he seemed sheepish at the admission. You just smiled.

“I can’t believe I thought you hated me this whole time,” he just shook his head in complete disbelief. That would be like hating the sun for burning so bright, it was ridiculous.

“I could never ever hate you y/n” His hand moved up to wipe at your tears once more. “Now will you please let me take care of you?” He asked, almost desperately. You rolled your eyes and simply nodded, even in your fragile state still not one to be “taken care of”, but who were you to argue with the Captain?

He sat you back down on your bed and told you to stay put and drink your gatorade. You did as you were told while he disappeared into the bathroom to turn on your shower. He came back into the room and forced you to eat some of the trail mix he had brought for you and then insisted on walking you to the bathroom, “You’re still shaking, I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself” he had said before wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You could have protested more but for some reason the words echoed into silence before they passed your lips.

Once in the bathroom you couldn’t help but give him shit “You gonna hold me up in the shower too?” You said with a smirk, leaning against your sink. He laughed but you could see his cheeks going pink.

“No- I um, well I can just,” he motioned towards the door, “not that I wouldn’t want to- I mean” he was getting more and more flustered by the second, you’d never seen the captain look so nervous and well... cute.

“If it wouldn’t be too weird, I could use the help” you conceded, and if you thought his face was red before, you had not been prepared for the crimson color that now covered his entire face and you were pretty sure his body too. “We can keep our underwear on if you want, it can be just...a friend thing, one friend helping another physically incapacitated friend” you said, and his breathing slowed a bit. He looked a bit sheepish and reached up to rub the back of his neck nervously, his voice barely audible when he finally spoke.

“And what if I didn’t want it to be just a friend thing?” He held eye contact with you, searching for some kind of response in the silence before you spoke. You were so stunned you couldn’t suppress a slight giggle, to which he immediately tensed up before you finally got some words out.

“Geez Rogers, at least take me to dinner first before you try to get me naked,” He looked absolutely mortified and began stammering and trying to get out some sort of apology.

“I’m so sorry y/n, I really didn’t mean to imply that I wanted to- well I mean I do, but not like this, and I absolutely would love to take you to dinner, I mean if that’s something you’re interested in, but I really just wanted to help and I screwed it up didn’t I?” He seemed like he could go on forever so you silenced him with a quick peck on the lips. It was chaste and fast, with not nearly as much feeling and closeness in it as either of you would have liked, but it served its purpose. He stood in stunned silence as you slowly took off your athletic shirt.

“Come on Rogers, dinner can wait, right now I need some help,” without waiting for an answer you steadied yourself on his arm with one hand as you tried to get out of your shorts without falling over. He was still looking at you like you had grown a second head, which made you back off a bit. You kept a hand on his arm for support but allowed for a bit more space between the two of you.

“Hey if you aren’t comfortable with this we don’t have to do it, I can just sit down in the shower or call Wanda or something it really isn’t a big deal.” He swallowed and shook his head, trying to snap himself out of whatever trance he had put himself in.

“No...no I just wasn’t expecting...” he paused, searching for the word, “that” He moved back in closer to you, he was close enough that his exhales ghosted your face. “As long as you’re sure you want this,” The words were tender but his face was set and serious. You nodded quickly in response.

“Oh Steve,” you took in his face, eyes tracing his features before finding his blue ones again, “This is all I want,” With a sudden moment of bravery, you weakly pulled yourself up and gently pressed your lips to his. He froze for a moment before reciprocating as if you were air and he desperately needed to catch his breath. He tasted surprisingly sweet, and the little groan he made when you reached up and ran your fingers through his hair tasted even sweeter. His hands began to roam but your body was still trembling and he had a sudden shock back to reality, in true captain-like focus, he was reminded of his mission. He pulled away slowly, your trembling increasing with the absence of his lips on yours. “Come on doll, let’s not forget why we’re here,” he said, barely above a whisper. He wanted you. He couldn’t deny that, but he wanted to make sure you were taken care of first. If he was going to do this, as he had wanted to for so long, he was going to do it right. He slowly helped pull your sports bra off and then knelt down to remove your panties. He couldn’t help but leave small kisses on your stomach and thighs as he slid the fabric down your legs.

You shuddered and pawed at his shoulders. He understood almost immediately and pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. You tried to remove his belt but he quickly replaced your shaky fingers with his own, larger, more steady ones. He made quick work of his belt and pants and suddenly it was just the two of you standing there, painfully aware of how naked and exposed you were. As he looked at you he felt entirely breathless. You were more gorgeous than he had imagined, your skin so smooth and soft, your curves perfect, he wanted nothing more than to have you right there, but he held himself back. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, his girl needed his help, and he wasn’t going to let her down.

Steve reached a hand into the shower and felt the water to make sure it was hot enough. He gave a little satisfactory nod to himself before helping you into the shower and maneuvering you beneath the water. He made sure to keep at least one steady hand on you as you let the water wash over you. He could have stood there for hours, just watching your face relax and your head roll back as the water soothed your aching body. With your eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face you looked so peaceful, Steve almost didn’t want to interrupt the moment, but he could see you swaying a bit, still off balance and shaky from exhaustion. He quickly grabbed the shampoo and moved behind you, his muscular chest pressed up close against your back. Slowly he began to work the shampoo into your hair, your head rolled back even more and he could feel your muscles relax against his body. His fingers massaging your scalp and running through your hair drew a moan from you that was definitely not situationally appropriate, but you were too worn out at this point to care or even notice. Steve tried his hardest not to fixate on it, not to think about those sounds spilling from your lips. Now was not the time.

He shook himself out of it and rinsed the shampoo out before moving on to conditioner. Just like with the shampoo, he slowly and deliberately worked the conditioner through your hair, making sure to massage your scalp and coat your hair evenly. Once again he tried not to focus on the blissed out expression on your face, tried not to imagine any other context in which your head would fall back like that, lips slightly parted, sighs of pleasure sitting so beautifully upon them. After rinsing that out, he moved on to body wash. He took this time to savor every part of you, especially the ones he had never seen before. He ran his hands over your impossibly soft skin, and acquainted himself with every inch of it. He placed kisses on your shoulders before running his soapy hands over them, he paused with his hands on your waist, admiring how well they fit there, like they were exactly where they belonged. Your mind may have been too foggy with exhaustion to realize it at the time, but god dammit, Steve Rogers was worshipping every single piece of your body. You sighed as he ran his hands all the way up your stomach and your chest before placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

With your eyes closed and your weight resting on Steve’s chest behind you, you felt more at ease than you had in months. He planted another kiss on your neck, sucking gently and you let out a little moan followed by a breathy “Oh Steve.” That drew a groaning sound from somewhere deep in his throat and turned you around so he could kiss you again. He kept one stabilizing arm around your waist, keeping your body pressed up against his, while his other hand cradled your cheek like you were the most precious thing in the world to him, and in that moment he was almost certain that you were. The kiss was passionate and full of desire but still gentle and tender. Like you were the most beautiful, fragile thing in existence and Steve just needed to hold you close but he was afraid you could shatter at any second beneath his touch.

Without breaking the kiss, he reached back and turned off the water, feeling almost guilty when you began to shiver in his arms. He quickly reached out of the shower and grabbed a towel, which he used to gently dry you off before wrapping it around your body tightly. He grabbed another towel and wrapped that around his waist. Then, without warning, he scooped you up in his arms bridal style, which caused you to squeal in surprise. You clung to him tightly, with your arms around his neck, despite the fact that you knew Steve would never let you fall. He brought you into your room and laid you down gingerly on the bed. You whimpered at the loss of contact and he smiled.

“Just a second doll, I’ll be right back.” He came back into the room with both of your clothes. He put your sweaty workout gear in your hamper and put his boxers on after laying the rest of his clothes on your bed. “I can grab you something from your closet if you’d like, you’d have to tell me where to look but I’m sure I can-” he turned to see you already pulling his shirt on over your head. Once you had it on you laid back down and just breathed in his scent. He watched the way you curled up in his shirt, content smile on your lips as you surrounded yourself with him and he felt his lungs empty completely. He never thought he would see something like this in person, he had resigned it to nothing more than fantasy, and yet here you were. He slid into bed slowly, as if rushing would break the spell and destroy this beautiful illusion all around him. But as he laid down next to you, nothing fell apart. Instead, you simply curled up against his body, laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his. You let out a tiny contented sigh as Steve wrapped one arm around your back and waist to keep you close, and used the other to gently play with your hair. It took mere seconds for your breathing to even out and Steve could tell you were asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and smiled as you snuggled in even closer to him, leaning into his touch. With his arms around you and the sweet smell of your shampoo and your body wash overtaking him, Steve could feel his own eyelids getting heavy. As he began to drift off to sleep he couldn’t help but think to himself, yeah I could get used to this.

[creativeashproductions]

When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson

IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.

Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The Orpheum, 1995

The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.

“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.

Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”

“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”

“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.

“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”

The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.

“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.

You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.

“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”

Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.

“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.

Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.

“Sorry!”

“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”

“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.

“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”

The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.

As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 

“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 

Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 

“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.

A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.

From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.

The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.

Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”

Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.

“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”

“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.

The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.

“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.

“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.

Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 

Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.

“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.

But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.

The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.

You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.

How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.

You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.

“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.

“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.

Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 

“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”

“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 

“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.

“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.

“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”

“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.

“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”

“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”

“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.

“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.

Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”

“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”

“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.

“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.

Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.

“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 

You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.

“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 

“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.

“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”

Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002

An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.

Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.

Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.

“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”

“Not a soccer player?”

“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”

As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.

“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”

Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.

“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”

“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”

“We’re all a little crazy.”

Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.

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[unnaturaldecay]

so i see my last post doing well huh. I’ve been overthinking posting about my OCs for way too long so i guess i’m just gonna stop and drop it now.

Recently I’ve joined the gem oc themed ask blog (in vk) with Hawkeye so now i have a bit of new pics with her (and maybe i got more used to getting attention, so to say), and i’m gonna post them all in a few days. 

Meet Hawk’s Eye, the small sniper gem. First reference is older one, second i made more recently for the ask. Inicially it was simply a turnaround with me finally trying to figure out the right proportions (as she looked different on every frame), and i’ve decided not to hide it just for myself and use it as a reference material. Not all images i’m gonna post next will contain this design, but this is a current version.

One of the reasons why i was overthinking it for so long is that i could never decide on amount of information i would have to write out (i tend to write extensive, often too much and it bothers me, but i didn’t want to post an empty shell with no info either). now i’m not sure if that even matters so i’m gonna only tell a bit and maybe cover some more stuff later

More about her & gem type: 

Hawk’s Eyes are highly specialized gem soldiers. They are relatively rare and expensive to make, much smaller, more fragile and physically weak, they are created for a few special abilities: their incredible vision and the ability to summon powerful  long range weapon, which barely any non-fusion gems posess. Their weapon, which is a kind of mixture of a crossbow (aesthetically) and a sniper rifle (effective), can shoot powerful explosive projectiles, often with some additional special attacks depending on individial gem. At it’s core. Hawk’s Eyes are walking glass cannons, and the lack of portable, powerful long-ranged weapons before the big technological breakthrough of 2nd era made them especially valuable back in the day. 

And for their character, Hawk’s Eyes, unlike other soldiers, aren’t made to fight shoulder to shoulder, the individualism of their work results in less team spirit and more of competetiveness with each other. Their groups usually have an unspoken internal hierarchy, based on their abilities, acheivements or sometimes even social behaviors. They can often be inconsiderate or cruel to ones, considered less valuable. 

The info above is important in forming Hawkeye’s character. She’s the defective gem, even smaller and weaker than others (to the point when she can hardly even lift her own weapon), lacking in any special abilities (that aren’t considered “the default” for their type) and generally dragging behind others in most ways since she was born. This wasn’t enough to consider her too defective and discard, but it landed her to the bottom of their little social hierarchy. Scarred by dismissive and often cruel treatment from her fellow gems from the very start, she embittered and decided to prove them all wrong once and for all. 

To compensate for her weaknesses, she turned to hard work  and finding creative solutions where possible, and gradually her successes are becoming more evident, as well as her social position goes up. As she’s incredibly stubborn, Hawkeye isn’t gonna stop until she is recognized as not only good, but the best of them.

Shaped by her surroundings, Hawkeye deeply believes in the Homeworld’s values, as well as believing that “usefulness” of a gem determines their value or even right to exist. Her goal is maybe to be elevated within said system, but her real motivation is seeking for approval of others and validation of her right to exist. She often acts out on how good she is to compensate for her internalized lack of self-worth.

Currently (the version of her that i use for the ask blog) she’s serving for the Homeworld during the war on Earth, along with several others randomly picked hawk’s eyes and some other soldiers, that were given to Pink by Blue Diamond as a “shut up” kind of gift, as Pink kept complaining about how unbearable the Rebellion is and how she wants to stop colonisation. Hawkeye and other soldiers, however, don’t know about it, and Hawkeye really think she’s making an impact. lmao

every time i say it’s gonna be brief and every time it’s a wall of text. god help me

[phoenix-knight-if]

(This got a bit rambling so tucking most of it under the cut - but summary: I’m starting a new WIP in addition to this one (oops).)

I’ve been thinking (a dangerous pastime, I know) about my last blip of an update and I realized something: I’m writing Phoenix Knight for free and just for fun - and I don’t intend to even open the support function until the entire thing is finished and up, and maybe not even then.

But that means I’m not on anyone’s timeline but my own. And I don’t have to feel guilty if I want to work on anything else either. Because it’s free and for fun it means that working on another project is something I can choose to do. I don’t have to talk myself out of writing something else too because there isn’t a deadline.

The only pressure here is what I put on myself (which is, uh, probably still too much but we’re not going to undo years of damage caused by academic over-achievement followed by a brutal collegiate burnout anytime soon).

That being said. I’m going to start my new project. (Actually I already have. The file is open. I’m taking a break from setting up the StoryInit page and setting a basic color scheme that doesn’t burn the eyes completely from the sockets (we’re just gonna ignore that I still haven’t figured out PK’s scheme either cus I’m probably not gonna leave it salmon) and at least a general arc plotted and the prologue fully planned.)

SO - I had a really shitty week all in all. But the last time I actually got a lot of work done with Phoenix Knight I had the foster kitten my brother brought home to bottle feed with me. We lost Porkchop to fading kitten syndrome at the beginning of the week. And I know it isn’t uncommon to lose bottle-babies that are that young, which is why I don’t like fostering but it still hurt even if it was always a possibility I acknowledged, ya know? And then I got really sick - like woulda been in for major surgery or died if I’d kept being stubborn and refusing to go to the doc sick. I’m still kinda getting over that but feel like a human today (mostly).

Between those two things weighing on me I think having a focus on the new-shiny details of building everything for the new project rather than filling in the scaffolding and ironing out the kinks (like with PK) will help me more right now.

So progress on Chapter 2 might be a bit slower. (Though, since I’ve been glaring at it and making a few sentence’s worth of progress for over a week so stepping back and letting it percolate and breathe might actually help.) But I am also going to take the time to sit down and organize my plans for it on paper (or an electronic equivalent thereof) instead of just in my head.

(And wow am I loving the parentheses as asides today.)

Right now the new WIP is titled “Code Name: Oracle” in my files but I’m planning on changing that once I get a better idea. I haven’t decided if I’m just going to change the name on this blog and use it for both projects or create a new devlog side blog for it.

You’ll play a detective that ends up with powers after being kidnapped and experimented on by a villain. Upon the discovery of said powers they are ‘promoted’ to the local superhero team as an investigator and liaison - not a field operative.

I have at least three RO’s semi-fleshed out with a fourth being played with. One of those routes is enemies-to-lovers with a “villain” who is more anti-hero than evil (oh, and it’s very important - they are not the kidnapping mad scientist), and you can choose to befriend or not outside of the romance route too.

The other two I’m sure of are heroes on the team.

(Although, everyone is currently missing names. And faces. Though I know their powers and some of their personalities already. ^^’’)

I’ve already found I do not have the patience for building and balancing actual skill stat systems so instead there will be three ‘Detective styles’ to set for your pre-kidnapping career which my notes have labeled as “Talker”, “Chaser”, and “Sherlock” if that gives you an idea of how it’ll form out. But I plan on having it so you can potentially change your approach style after the kidnapping, etcetera, to create a mismatch in the detective’s reputation and current approach as a result of experiences. The style won’t force you to take any path that you don’t want - if my plan works out - but it’ll affect the flavor text some.

And I know - detective with superpowers that involve visions and seer-like abilities isn’t that inventive or new or whatnot but it’s a trope I enjoy. I’m not aiming to be inventive or even all that creative with the new baby. (And, yes, I already had to talk myself out of throwing the whole concept out a window due to the fact that I know it’ll end up with similarities to more popular works.)

So. That’s it! Thanks for listening to my thoughts!

[crescent-yoon]

Driver's License // Hwang Yeji x Reader

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

I wanted to call her so bad, but my pride wouldn't let me. I can't help but to be stubborn in this situation. Why did she want to break up? Was I not enough? Did she fall out of love? Sure, we'd fight but we'd always make up. Maybe this time it was too much.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

I was always happy when I'd go to school and see Yeji by my locker, looking as gorgeous as always. Then, that happiness turned into jealousy whenever her classmate, Ryujin, would be lingering around her. Touching her shoulder, giving her flirtatious looks, and Yeji never saw anything wrong with that. They both had so much in common, too. Much more than her and I did. But it was so obvious that Ryujin liked her and she always became the source of our arguments.

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

"So, you don't trust me?" Yeji looked up in slight annoyance, her eyes getting glossy. "That's what you're saying?"

"No, it's not." I sighed, equally frustrated as I tightly gripped my hair. "But you're always with her. I mean, we're dating but we don't even spend time with each other anymore because you're always with her."

"Then maybe we need to take a break." Yeji sighed as she closed her locker.

And before I could make her stay and try to hold onto her, she walked away, walking alongside none other than Ryujin.

That's why I told my mom I was sick today because how could I go back to school with her words replaying in my mind, only to find her by that Ryujin girl's side.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah

Today I drove through the suburbs

And pictured I was driving home to you

Maybe there was a way I could fix this? Maybe I should apologize to Yeji. She is my girlfriend and I should trust her after all.

Not caring that I was still in my pajamas, I grabbed my car keys and drove to the nearest flower shop and got Yeji her favorite flowers. I also went to the jewelry store and got her the necklace that she'd really wanted for a long time but could never really afford.

Since it was still school hours for a bit, I decided to stop by Yeji's house and drop off the necklace with Yeji's mom to give her after school so that it would be a surprise.

Then, I drove off to the school to surprise Yeji with the flowers and apologize in person. But what was waiting for me, proved that my intuitions were right.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I walked into the school and almost immediately upon walking in, my friend Chaeryeong rushed up to me with a look of what seemed to be distress.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Chaeryeong chuckled almost nervously. "I thought you were sick? You even came in your pajamas."

"I'm fine, Chae." I pet her head as I walked around her. "Where's Yeji?"

"Mm, maybe we should talk somewhere else?" Her brows furrowed as she suddenly stood in front of me once again.

"Why are you acting so suspicious, Chae?" I frowned as I gently tried to move her out of my way. "I'm just gonna be quick."

"No! Wait!" She shouted as she ran after me. "Y/N!"

I stopped in my tracks when I heard a familiar voice from afar ask, "Yeji, I like you a lot and I'd just like to ask if you'd be my girlfriend."

Ryujin.

I didn't feel like staying there much longer. I couldn't help the mad scoff that left my body with a sarcastic smile. Then, my eyes met hers that I had fallen deeply in love with and I couldn't handle it.

I turned around and I could feel Chaeryeong following me with Yeji slightly behind.

"Wait, Y/N. Stop." Chaeryeong grabbed my wrist to stop me from moving further, causing me to turn around. "Don't run away. Just face it."

"Face what, Chaeryeong?" I could feel my voice gradually rising. "Face the fact that I was right? That Ryujin likes Yeji? That because I was so jealous of those two, Yeji and I aren't together anymore? Yeah, I saw. I hope those two are very happy together."

I made eye contact with Yeji once again, her sparkling orbs meeting mine. I couldn't be here, in this moment, with her.

I roughly snatched my arm out of Chaeryeong's grasp, almost causing her to fall down but I couldn't care at the moment.

I was so angry and heartbroken. I wanted to hit something and hard. I'd never hit Chaeryeong or my Yeji. Not even Ryujin, I could never hit another person. Looking down at the flowers in my hand, I threw them against the lockers and left the building.

Regardless of the fact that it wasn't good for me to drive while angry (Yeji always drove when I was angry), I got in my car and drove off anyway.

Without a destination in mind.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

Before I knew it, my foot was pressed down hard on the gas pedal. My phone constantly ringing with calls between Chaeryeong and Yeji. I even got a few from Ryujin.

I wanted to hear what Ryujin had to say about this so I finally answered her.

"What do you want?" I angrily answered.

"She said no."

"What?"

"She said no. She told me that even though you two were on a break that she'd always be in love with you and nothing could change that."

"She did?"

"Yes. She's crying over you because she feels like she's done something wrong, that things can't change."

"Tell her I'm on my way."

"I will. Fix things with Yeji, please. I don't want her to be hurt anymore."

"Thanks, Ryujin."

A moment of hesitation must've come over her before she said, "of course."

I quickly pulled a U-turn but I was just a bit too slow to move out of the way of the car coming from the opposite side of the intersection.

I could feel my breath getting heavier and my heartbeat getting slower. I had realized I had crashed once I felt the pain of the sharp glass in my arm and the blood dripping down my forehead.

As the weight of my limbs began to feel heavier and heavier along with my eyelids, I could hear the familiar ringtone that I'd set for Yeji and Yeji only.

Feeling my eyelids getting heavy, I used all the energy I had left to answer the phone.

"Hey, Yej." I barely managed to let out.

Hearing the sounds of sirens and Yeji's voice before my eyes finally shut.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

When I woke up, I could see the outlines of three figures. At this point I was a pro at being able to tell Yeji apart from anyone in the world so I figured the other two were either her parents or Chaeryeong and Ryujin.

"Can you give us some space please?" Yeji whispered, holding my hand.

My vision began clearing up as her parents left the room.

"Why in the hell would you do something so stupid, Y/N?" She slightly frowned as tears built up in her eyes. "Because you are upset? You should talk to me about it. What have I told you about driving when you're mad, huh?"

"Not to." I muttered before she poked my shoulder a bit harshly.

"Exactly. Stop doing scary things and worrying me. Stop making me scared that something bad will happen to you or that you'll do something that you can't reverse. I can't lose who I love the most."

"I love you too, Yej." I have her a weak smile since my body was in pain.

"No more hospital trips and no more jealousy. You're the love of my life and I can't handle anything bad happening to us. " she kissed my knuckles. "And thank you for the necklace."

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

"Of course, Yej." I smiled before I kissed her. "I promise."

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I'm not sure why but I got creative inspiration from Driver's License by Olivia Rodrigo. I was listening to it earlier and thought of Yeji but I didn't expect it to be so long but hopefully it was enjoyable.

[the-second-tonks]

Hi! I was hoping to request something for the game!

Basics: I am 5’7”, cancer (I don’t believe in zodiacs because I’m like the opposite), Slytherin, ENTP, enneagram type 8. I’m Chaotic, sassy, sarcastic, dramatic, mean and a raging feminist. I also, and I quote, “act as if you drank 14 cups of coffee and used red bull as creamer” (Credits to my sister)

Looks: Skinny body type (i got nothing😭) hella pale, brown hair with red highlights, and hazel eyes that change color.

My Good/Bad Side: Some of my worst traits are selfishness, stubbornness, jealousy, vindictiveness, being manipulative, and rage. Some of my good traits are my intelligence, creativity, resourcefulness, and humor (which is very dark and sometimes offensive) Overall, I’m a pretty chill person but if you anger or provoke me the only advice I have is to run🙂

Fun Facts/Miscellaneous: I am Pagan/Wiccan and have an unhealthy obsession with collecting rocks and shells (and reading fanfics but let’s not worry about that🥴) I’m Moldovan and Romanian is my first language. I get like either no sleep or sleep until noon and I’m a big over-thinker and have anxiety. Believe me or not, but I can in fact see auras (if I concentrate but also sorta unfocus my eyes kinda; it’s weird) I am secretly touch-starved and a hopeless romantic. I am pretty social (or at least social enough to have 2 friends; I don’t think people need them though.) love being alone to have time to myself for reading, writing, drawing, playing video games, and listening to music.

(also for the s/o thingy I think you shipped me with Loki a while back but I’m fine with someone else if needed)

hoping that wasn’t too much😬

Hii ! Umumum... I did ship you once I remember lol ... but you unfollowed me ? Okay but try not doing it the next time or else I'll delete the game ask with the ship since I can't go against my rules :) . Yes , I still find Loki a good match for you ! Wow ! Can see you see auras online too ? Sorry if that sounded stupid but I'm dying to know my aura !

Coming back to your ship thank you for participating !

Your power is

Mind manipulation

Definitely , you cannot change my mind . It suits you very well . This power allows you to manipulate someone's mind as you wish it to . You can control them , get to know everything from them . This power is definitely useful for the Avengers . I think Nick Fury's gonna find you and propose you to be in the Avengers . You'll be one of the strongest addition in the team . Your way of working is quite different because mostly the Avengers attack physically while you'll attack someone mentally. Now , point to be noted is that you need immense concentration/intese emotions towards that person to penetrate someone's mind and you wouldn't be able to penetrate someone properly if that person is also someone like you . Also, no one of your kind can read your mind too , not just because you're one of them but because you are very powerful in it.

Your life with the Avengers

Your early life . You would be a simple orphan with strange powers that you tend to hide. You'd be the girl sitting in the corner , reading silently . You wrote each and every strange happenings which happened due to your power . You always knew you had some powers due to the coincidences of you wishing someone to do something and them doing it . The intese emotion was rage most of the time . You still kept it a secret until a man with black skin and black clothes took you . Confused as hell , you tried using your power but he put a blindfold on your eyes . Welcoming you to the Avengers by opening your blindfold , yoy met someone with a surname similar to yours , Maximoff .(I'm sorry if you didn't like this idea) . You , Pietro and Wanda were triplets . You all met in the Age of Ultron until you and Wanda lost your elder brother Pietro . Thor would be your good friend , which would make you visit Asgard and other places , encountering Loki. He and you would usually have sarcasm battles but your humours would match a lot , dark and sometimes offensive .

Now , being with Wanda from the attack for vision's stone to helping her break the time stone , you bonded over the years you both had lost . But , vision's death had broken her already . Being for her throughout the time , you entered the new mission of bringing everyone back. You battled Thanos , bringing everyone back . But loosing loki was another loss for you. (Okay I exactly don't know but..) being a pagan , you tried to communicate with Loki , succeeding in it . Even though you knew he was dead here , he was still there in AU .

Your bestfriend would be

Natasha Romanoff !

"Nat , can you please pass me a glass of water?" You asked while continuing to play the video game . "Do you think it's so easy to distract me ?" Nat questioned back , smirking at you while continuing to play , knowing she was winning . "Yes , in think it is.." you sass her , but she simply smiles . Pushing your hand a bit , she begins the daily push-fight between you both . Pushing her back , you start laughing , followed by Natasha . The pushing continued until you literally fell of the couch , the console falling from your hand . You chuckle , surprised at how she won the fight you always won . Getting up and purposely pushing her down , you try to knock the console in ther hand ,but in vain . Deciding to break the console instead , you sit on it , Natasha laughing . Suddenly , you heard Tony's voice "That's one of the costliest game consoles !" ..cue both of you laughing harder than earlier ..

Your s/o would be

Loki Odinson !

"Oh , hello Y/N , as always , you look ravishing!" Loki commented from behind you , as you took in the wonderful view in front of you . "Thank you , Loki. You look ugly , as always " you faked smile and continued to enjoy the scenery which was slowly changing into night . "Now , I know that's a big lie , y/n . Pretty girls don't lie . Is this what your midgard technology teaches you? " he smirked with that . You decided to sass him and spoke "Once an old lady told me the same thing . I called her a hypocrite and unplugged her life support " . His smirk simply grew as he spoke "I like it" . It annoyed you to the moon , but bought a smile on your face anyways . You continued to talk with him as his hands made his way around your shoulder and your head laid on his chest. He kissed your brown hair, digging into the highlights with his nose at the solace of finally having you in his arms . Being together with your boyfriend , your love , you stood enjoying the time . Later at night , you were reading a book when Loki entered . He smiled at your figure reading the book so interestingly . He walked over to you while you were on your bed ,took the book from you and read it for both of you while he laid his head on your lap , your hands running through his dark hair. You knew he was doing this so that you could stop overthinking and spend some time together . Ofcourse , he had foreseen something he hadn't told you .

The next morning , or you can say , afternoon , you woke up on the bed alone . Ofcourse , Loki had left already . Smiling at the thought of what happened yesterday , how loki took care of you and you both spent time together, you began writing the dear diary .

I hope you liked it !

Thank you for participating !

[lloydskywalkers]

Hey, I sent this ask once already but I don't think it went through??? (If it did I apologize for bugging you!) I read this fic you wrote a while ago about Lloyd and Ronin talking during season 5 after that part where Morro sends that fake message, and I'd like to read it again but I can't find it? Could you link it please? Sorry again for bothering you.

Hey no don’t worry about it, I’m glad you asked!! One, because I’m almost positive Tumblr ate your other ask; and two, because I am a hundred percent positive Tumblr also ate that particular fic :’) I was going to just repurpose it for a later season 5 fic, but I’ll go ahead and post it below the cut in case you’d like to read it a whole lot sooner XD

If Lloyd was any less exhausted right now, he’d have some choice words for Morro about shoving him in a cage, of all things. 

Because really, of all things, a cage? Again? Morro’s so proud of himself and his precious plan, he could at least get creative while he’s at it. Spice Lloyd’s life up a little every once in a while, instead of sticking with the same stupid routine every other person who’s ever gone after his powers has. 

But unfortunately, Lloyd is so bone-tired right now he doesn’t even know if he could manage a glare hot enough for Morro, and if he’s going to pick a fight with him, he’d like to be able to finish it without passing out from sheer exhaustion in the middle. He’s been humiliated enough, and he’s clinging to the meager shreds of his pride he has left with a stubbornness.  

A stubbornness that’s fading faster than he’d like, so when it takes Ronin three tries before Lloyd realizes he’s saying something to him, it feels a bit like rubbing salt in a wound. 

“Huh?” he manages, scrubbing at his eye and wincing as the bruise behind it throbs. His vision clears a bit, at least, enough to where Ronin stops looking as much like a brown blob on the floor and more like…well, Ronin, tied up on the floor. 

Right, he remembers, with a sinking pit of ice in his stomach. They’d used Ronin to send a message to the others. The thought of his team heading into a trap makes his stomach writhe into painful knots, and he struggles to sit up, as much as he can in the cramped cage. 

“I asked if you were alive up there,” Ronin’s saying. He still looks pale and shaken from when Morro possessed him earlier, but his voice sounds firmer than it did, less like the trembling rasp he’d tried to curse Morro out with before he’d left them both alone. 

Save your strength. I’ll be needing it. 

Morro’s words float through Lloyd’s head like particularly unwelcome knives, and he shoves the thought of what’s coming away.

“I’m—” his attempt at a reply cuts off in harsh coughing, his throat dry and scratchy from hosting Morro’s voice as much as he has. And probably from the lack of hydration. That might have something to do with it. “Yeah, m’alive,” he finally manages, his voice thin. 

“Figured that, with all the racket up there,” Ronin says, but there’s a note of relief in his voice. 

Lloyd doesn’t know what to say back to that, so he shuts his mouth, staring hazily at the bars of the cage as they blur and swim in his vision. Ronin doesn’t say anything either, save for an occasional huff as he twists his arms in his bonds, rubbing his hands together as if to quell the small tremors that still run through them. Lloyd studies him closer, how unnaturally grey his color still is, and his stomach twists again. He knows too well how that feels.  

Maybe he should have picked that fight. 

Lloyd bites his lip, slumping back against the cage bars. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and he hates how young he sounds.

Ronin tilts his head up at him, the corners of his eyes creasing. “What are you sorry for?” he says. “You’ve got it a lot worse than me, kid.”

“Well— maybe, but—” Lloyd stutters. “It’s my…if I hadn’t…I should’ve fought back. When he possessed you, and…everything else.”

“In your shape?” Ronin eyes him, and Lloyd shrinks under his scrutiny. “You look like death warmed over. In a busted microwave. Nice sentiment, kid, but there’s no sense in gettin’ yourself trashed for me.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten trashed,” Lloyd mutters, crossing his arms tighter around himself.

“Yeah, you would’ve, already have,” Ronin scoffs. “You’re just like the rest of ‘em, suicidal hero kids, all of you.”

“I’m the Green Ninja,” Lloyd snaps, hoping desperately that Ronin doesn’t catch the waver in his voice. “I’m not — I should be able to take him. I shouldn’t be here, I should—“

“Please,” Ronin cuts over him, sounding tired. “You’re what, ten?”

Lloyd blinks rapidly, before scowling. “I’m fourteen.”

“—fourteen, FSM help me.” Ronin runs a hand over his forehead, trailing it down to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head, going silent for a beat.

“Fourteen,” he repeats, voice quieter. “FSM.”

Lloyd doesn’t know what to say back to that, either. He feels very small and a bit stupid, which is kind of how he’s been feeling all the time lately, and he’s not a fan. 

“Still should’ve stopped him,” he finally mumbles, wrapping his arms around his legs so he can rest his chin on his knees. 

“You couldn’t’ve stopped him,” Ronin says, bluntly. “Morro’s crazy, kid. He’s hellbent on that Green Ninja thing, and he’s the kinda hellbent that gets people killed.”

Lloyd frowns. “It’s my title. It’s my job, I want to be able to keep it—“

“Could you kill someone for it?”

Lloyd flinches back, eyes going wide. “Wha— no! No, I couldn’t — wouldn’t, I’m not — I don’t—“

“There you go, kid,” Ronin sighs, cutting over Lloyd’s floundering. “Morro doesn’t care how many people he has to get rid of, so long as he gets that gi. He’s always gonna have that upper hand on you. Different playing fields.”

Lloyd stares at him, taken aback. He’s never thought about it like that before, and he doesn’t think he’d like to. Just because Morro’s more — more bloodthirsty, or whatever, doesn’t mean he’s stronger. It doesn’t mean Lloyd won’t fight for the green gi.

Lloyd presses his lips together. “That doesn’t mean — I’d still fight for it. I-I’d die for it, if I had to.”

“I bet you would,” Ronin snorts, without humor. “But you won’t kill anyone else. Death is only on the board if it’s yours. You’re the worst kind of selfless type, I’ve seen it before.”

Lloyd chews on his lip, at a loss. Talking with Ronin is confusing, he decides, too confusing for the headache that’s building behind his eyes, at least. He keeps ending up lost for words, and he doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like feeling wrong-footed, though that’s definitely nothing new—

“You shouldn’t,” Ronin suddenly says. 

“Huh?”

“Die for it,” he continues, sounding insistent now. “You shouldn’t. Don’t. Your life’s worth a lot more than some scrap of green, kid.”

Lloyd tilts his head, momentarily thrown by the direction the conversation’s turned. “I…I don’t want to,” he admits, weakly. “I just—“

“Then don’t,” Ronin interrupts, bluntly. “Stay alive. Fight dirty if you have to, you’re Garmadon’s kid. Don’t let your family’s never-ending fling with destiny take you down with ‘em.”

“That’s not — I’m not trying to die,” Lloyd insists, irritated now. 

“And you got people waiting for you,” Ronin continues, ignoring him. “Your team, y’know, they’re real anxious to get you back.” A flicker of emotion crosses his face, almost like regret. “They’re uh. Puttin’ up a real fight for ya, kid.”

Lloyd squeezes his eyes shut tightly, fighting back the sudden burn. “I know they are.” 

“Good thing, then. So just, uh. Don’t give up on ‘em, okay? Be a real shame if they gave me this much trouble for nothing.”

Yeah, I’ll bet they gave you trouble, Lloyd thinks, his throat tightening. He shakes his head, blinking back the burn in his eyes. Enough. His family’s out there, fighting for him, and that’s enough for him. 

“I’m not gonna die,” he says fiercely, dragging the fire that’s left in him from the smoldering embers in his chest. “I’m gonna beat him. And then I’m going to end the Cursed Realm, before it ever gets here. And I am not. Going to die.”

Ronin’s eyes flash with an emotion Lloyd can’t name, but he nods, seemingly satisfied. He turns away, the scars on his cheek standing out as he stares through the clouded window. 

“You know what’s in the Cursed Realm, right, kid?”

Ronin’s voice is gravely, rough in ways that makes Lloyd think of the hardened kind of people he’d run into on the streets occasionally. People who were used to life going the worst way possible, and were ready for it. He used to want to be one of those people. Now he thinks he might be scared he’s going to get his wish. 

But there’s an undercurrent of what could be sympathy in Ronin’s voice, if Lloyd looks for it. He swallows.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Yeah, I know.”

“You good with ending that, too?”

Lloyd swallows again, and this time it gets stuck in his throat.

“I have to be, I guess,” he whispers.

Ronin closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the wooden wall, and Lloyd feels kind of like he used to when he’d turn a test in at Darkley’s, and had no idea whether he’d passed or failed. “S’what I thought.”

Lloyd turns his head away, biting his lip hard enough to taste metal. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, either, so he doesn’t say anything more. 

He’s supposed to be saving his strength, after all. 

[candied-peach]

ao3: “in the garden of eden” rating: T warnings: post creativity split, kid sides, sympathetic remus, sympathetic deceit, platonic dukeceit genre: hurt/comfort description: Deceit finds the green Creativity in a garden. 

Janus storms into the garden he knows by heart, angry tears threatening his vision, though he refuses to let them fall. Stupid Morality. Stupid Logic. They're both so stupid. They don't understand that Thomas needs him! He's important!

If the teacher knew who stole their neighbor's pencil because his last one had ended up in the hands of a second grader (because Thomas is also too soft-hearted for his own good), then Thomas would get in trouble! He might have detention for a week! Did they want that? It isn't like his neighbor didn't have more than one pencil! He had four or five extras, and they all looked the same. Was Thomas supposed to go without? He huffs an angry breath, stomping along the rock path.

"Who are you?"

The lisping question out of nowhere catches Janus off guard, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He glances around wildly before his mismatched eyes fall on a gap-toothed boy in a silver paper crown and an acid green shirt, kneeling in the grass that borders the path.

"Deceit, of course," Janus declares, trying to swish his capelet. It whacks him in the arm instead and he stops, his cheeks furiously red. "Who are you?"

"I'm Creativity!" The boy declares, green eyes bright.

"No, you're not," he says in surprise, before he can stop himself. The other side's bottom lip starts to wobble. There's a shockingly grey streak of hair that keeps flopping in his eyes.

"Yes, I am," the other side insists, stubborn.

"But you-" Janus cuts himself off. The boy tilts his head to one side.

"I'm the bits no one wanted anymore!" He singsongs. He lets his voice drop, ominous, as he whispers, "Long live the king."

"This isn't The Lion King," Janus says on autopilot.

"I think I'm 'posed to be Scar," the other boy confesses. "He's the fun one. Until he gets eaten by hyenas and set on fire."

"Yes, that would put a damper on things," Janus says dryly. "Do- do you have a name?"

"Remus," the boy offers up cheerfully. "My brother's Roman. He's Creativity, too. But Morality likes him. Morality told me to go stay out here. Do you think he's gonna come back? It's awfully boring with no one to play with. And I miss my brother."

"I don't think he's going to come back, no," Janus says slowly. "But that's okay." Remus blinks at him like an owl.

"It is?" He asks. Janus nods, encouraging Remus to stand up.

"You can stay with me instead," Janus says. "Would you like that?"

"Would I!" Remus says, enthusiastic. "That sounds great! Do you like to play games? Do you like hide and seek? I love hide and seek. What if you hid too well and no one ever found your body? Wouldn't that be awful? Ooh, or tag, I like tag. Tackle tag is fun, but Morality said it's playing too rough."

"It can be," Janus admits. "I like hide and seek, too, though. I wouldn't mind playing it with you." Remus grins.

"Cool," he says.

tag list:  @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @littlestliu @matthindavick @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @killjoy-3000  @the-sunshine-dims @sneaky-slytherin @reesiereads @rabbitsartcorner @quackerz-creations  @psodtqueer @awkward-child-of-satan @snek-boii @im-fine-24

[yandere-daydreams]

A Yandere!Hawks/OC piece for a very lovely anonymous commissioner, featuring her character, Miya, and the foul-feather man himself. This might be my first time writing for Keigo, but I feel like it went well enough. I may have taken a few creative liberties with his dialogue, though...

Word Count: 2.1k

TW: Non-Con, Semi-Public Sex, Groping, Entitlement and Delusional Mindsets. 

It wasn’t that Miya didn’t like Keigo.

She didn’t like him, but she couldn’t say she disliked him, either. She respected his work as a hero, and appreciated the levity his reputation held, even if she wasn’t particularly fond of the young Pro when he was out of costume. Like everyone else, she’d had her run-ins with him, but as time went on and her life progressed, she seemed to see more of him, hear more of him, whether it was that laugh or that smirk or that lazy, smug tone that permeated his voice like rainwater overflowing from a gutter after a heavy storm. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him, but one day, she might.

One day soon, preferably.

That’d make rejecting him much easier than it was now.

Even now, it was difficult not to grit her teeth as her eyes darted towards his shoes, moving in pace with her own as she walked, her stride much faster than it had to be despite Keigo offering to take the lead. The incident had been over an hour ago, and Miya would like to think that she hadn’t seemed shaken. It was just a petty criminal, a thief looking for someone who’d cower at the first sight of claws and scales, but she’d always found it difficult to be intimidated by a quirk, however villainous it appeared. She’d been ready to defend herself, but Keigo was on the attack before she could make a move, and he was more than happy to take the credit when all the newscasters and amateur journalists arrived to document his feat, leaving Miya swept up in the chaos. He’d insisted on walking her home, afterward, and she hadn’t been able to think of a good excuse to tell him to fuck off.

How many times had he saved her, now? It could’ve been that they followed similar routes, or the recent influx in crime, but this had to be the fifth time he’d come to her rescue, if not the sixth. Vigilant crime-fighters weren’t an issue, but it was hard not to feel… unnerved by the frequency. Up until a few months ago, she’d never even seen a hero on patrol, and now one was trailing her, ready to lunge at the slightest hint of a treat. It was just her ego talking, she knew that, but her ego could be loud. Unignorable at the worst of times, unfortunately.

Keigo huffed, drawing her out of her thoughts, raising his arms and cupping his hands behind his head, forming a make-shift support as he glanced idly towards the sky. “Awfully thoughtful tonight,” He commented, filling the uncomfortable silence. He was smiling, but it was one of his reflexive grins, reassuring to most but off-putting to anyone who spent more than a moment in his company. Miya wasn’t proud to belong to the latter group. “You’re not gettin’ sick of me, are you? I’d hate to turn you off your favorite hero.”

“I prefer Endeavor,” She mumbled, more for herself than for him. Her eyes darted to the sidewalk, then the buildings on either side of the road. It was late, by now, so most of the shops were closed, but she could still see the signs and brands posted outside, each name more unrecognizable than the last. “Hawks--”

Keigo clicked his tongue, his smile faltering, a frown beginning to pull at the corners of his lips. “I thought I told you to call me--”

“Hawks,” She affirmed, her tone more authoritative than it had to be. “Are you sure this is a shortcut? None of this seems familiar, and it feels like we’ve gone too far… I think I’d know the best way to get to my own apartment, by now.”

Her skepticism earned her a glance out of the corner of his eye, half-obscured by his sleeve as he shifted to get a better look at her. With an inaudible sigh, he dropped his arms back to his sides, his smile softening as he took her wrist. She opened her mouth, but Keigo didn’t give her a chance to get anything out, holding a finger to his lips as he spoke. “Have I ever been wrong?” He asked, ignoring her hasty nod. “Just trust me, I’ll have you home in no time.”

Before she could protest, he was pulling her into a narrow alleyway between a convenience store and a larger, unnamed building, the space so narrow, they struggled to walk side-by-side. Away from the streetlights, it took her eyes a moment to adjust, but sight did little to alleviate her confusion. Rather, she only grew more unnerved as a fence came into view, chainlink but tall, too tall to easily be scaled. Again, she moved to voice her thoughts and again, Keigo had other plans. Plans that seemed to have less and less to do with keeping her safe.

She wasn’t sure how it happened. One second, she was just turning towards him, and the next, she was facing a brick wall, her hands coming up reflexively to support herself, Hawks’ arm wrapped around her waist and his chest pressed against her back, the bulk of his attire doing little to stifle how suffocated she suddenly felt, dread welling up and boiling over before she had a chance to stifle it. She tried to scream, but a downy glove was quick to stop her, shooting to her mouth and muffling the sound. Keigo only kissed the nape of her neck, cooing something unintelligible, like he had the right to try and calm her down.

“C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it had to be,” He muttered, a finger slipping below the waistband of her shorts. Instantly, panic set in, and she threw her weight against him, grappling and fighting for any opening she could get. Keigo’s hold tightened, and he let out a soft growl as he shoved her against the wall, two feathers shooting out from his wings and finding her sweater, long sleeves soon pinned to the solid stone, trapping Miya with them. Still, Keigo was gentle, slow, taking his time to work her shorts down to her thighs as if he didn’t have any place better to be. “We could’ve done this your way, but you just had to huff and groan until you lost your chance. We’re gonna do this how I want to, now.”

“Fucking pervert,” She spat, but her voice died in her throat as he pawed at her ass, pressing another kiss into the dip of her shoulder. Fabric rustled, something soft falling to the ground, his now free hand brushing past her thigh to rub against the seat of her panties, tracing her slit for a moment before pushing distinct, measured circles into her clit. Even with a layer of cloth and disgust separating them, his expertise was undeniable, each tic of his fingers and buck of his hips against her sending a shock through her system, uninvited but not unpleasant. Miya grit her teeth, her jaw locking into place and her eyes clenching shut in an effort to block him out, but there was nothing she could do to ignore the long, low whistle he let out as her hips twitched, dampness just beginning to accumulate on his fingertips. Keigo only nuzzled into her back, nearly purring in satisfaction.

“This might’ve been more romantic, if you weren’t so stubborn,” He mumbled, absentmindedly pulling her panties to the side as he spoke. Abruptly, two fingers were pushed inside of her, leaving her to clench and adjust as he scissored her open, alternating between curling and pumping, whichever made her knees buckle and needy, pathetic whimpers work their way past her lips. “Been planning it out for a while, since the first time I saved my little damsel in distress. Woulda bought you roses, taken you back to my place, all that shit. Guess we’ll save that for that later, though.” His palm came up, grinding against her clit, and Miya gasped, involuntarily pushing herself into his chest. Keigo chuckled, his ministrations becoming more aggressive. “Shoulda waited this time, too. You were just bein’ so cold, I didn’t think I could help myself.”

Miya tried to speak, but all that came out was a pitiful, incoherent stutter as he pulled away, his grip moving to her waist as he dragged her back, forcing her to brace herself against the unforgiving wall and pray for mercy. She felt the tip of his cock press against her cunt, but that was all the warning she got before he was pushing inside her, refusing to stop until he’d bottomed out with a blatant, shameless groan. The stretch was painful, too snug to mean anything good, but that didn’t stop Keigo from grinding against her, starting to thrust just as her legs gave out, leaving Keigo to hold her up. If he cared, though, she couldn’t tell, his hold on her hips growing bruising as he moved inside her, spikes of pleasure and pain striking at her core in unforgiving, unyielding waves. Tears blurred her vision, welling in the corners of her eyes, but moans mixed with the sobs, forming something hellish in the middle ground. Keigo cooed, his tone turning delicate, infantilizing. Adoring, if she was being optimistic, but Miya couldn’t find it in herself to be so positive.

“You’re so tight, baby. Are you still scared of me?” He snapped his hips against hers, making a point of relishing in the high-pitched whine that crawled out of her throat. She stopped making an effort to be quiet, suddenly finding herself thankful for the passing cars, the footsteps of distant pedestrians, her own breathy, heated pants. Anything to distract her from the wet, sloppy sounds of Keigo fucking into her cunt. “Don’t worry, we’ll change that,” He assured, before the air hitched in his lungs, his pace losing rhythm for the blink of an eye. “Or, maybe we won’t. I’m gonna take such good care of you… I get to be selfish about this, yeah?”

It might’ve been the adrenaline, or the fear or Keigo’s intensity or anything, but when one of his hands fell past her waist, reaching around to tease her clit… That was all she needed to clench around him, her chest seizing up and her knees knocking together as she came, the break from that constant, thudding pressure coming as a relief. And yet, it didn’t do anything to block out the feeling of Keigo pulling out, barely getting a fist around his cock before something thick and hot coated the back of her thigh.

There was silence, for a moment, only broken by the labored breaths both of them struggled to take. Miya didn’t have to worry about it for very long, though.

He kissed her jaw, the two red fathers keeping her pinned falling to the ground, lifeless. She could hear him fishing something out of his coat’s pocket, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at what it was. “Close your eyes, alright? We’re going home.”

A rag pressed against her lower face, and the world around her went black.

~

Miya was sore when she woke up, her head pounding and her legs aching despite the plush surface she’d been laid on. She was almost tempted to lean into it, to go back to sleep and worry about the pain another time, but a dip in the mattress was enough to inject a cold, sobering dose of reality into her veins, the severity of her situation slowly beginning to dawn on her. Hesitantly, she sat up, keeping her gaze focused on satin sheets and more pillows than any one person could ever need, her survey ending when her eyes landed on the sleek, polished metal shackle wrapped around her ankle, connected to a seamless tether that fell off the side of the bed. Miya felt herself deflate, her hope spiraling as quickly as her pride had.

She almost didn’t feel the lithe fingertips soon rubbing at her shoulders, a familiar face leaning into her side. “Don’t be too mad at me, princess,” Keigo mumbled, his voice quiet, comforting. As soothing as it was repulsive. “The chain’ll come off as soon as you come around. Be good for me, and I won’t have to make things any worse.”

“You kidnapped me,” She retorted, but her voice was weak, barely audible. She just glared, biting the inside of her cheek. “Hawks--”

“Keigo. You’re supposed to call me Keigo.” His hold around her shoulder tightened, and Miya cringed, crying out breathlessly, but Keigo only laughed, the sound forced, volatile.

Cruel.

“But, we’ll have plenty of time to work on that, won’t we?”

[teacherunicorn]

Delores Theadosia Hargreeves

Chapter Fifteen

Italics = memories

@tomisbaeholland

A/N: I am aware of Elliot Page coming out as transgender and am fully supportive of it. With the future of his character still in the wind however, I will be using she/her pronouns for Vanya for my writings at least for the time being. If rumors are true and the character will be transitioning as well, I will wrap it into my story accordingly. For now, I'm just following the plot of season one.

Diego was one of two Hargreeves children left in the city, and was the first to arrive back at the manor. The place had always been too big for comfort, but it still seemed strange seeing it so empty.

Not for the first time, he wondered what Delores' life here had been like before they'd come into it.

Traditionally, boxing was a more serious sport. The kind that attracted harsher people, under the counter bets and the like. Then again, Delores Theadoisa Hargreeves had never been traditional.

She stood just outside the fighting ring jumping up and down, and waving a handmade sign over her head. "Go Diego! Boo everyone else!"

Diego's opponent of the night; a burly man with full sleeve tattoos, looked between him and the tiny blonde.

"Your girl's got a lotta faith in ya."

Diego smiled but didn't drop his guard. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint." he said before throwing a heavy right hook into the man's jaw.

“Diego my boy.” Pogo’s voice broke him from his memories. “Good to see you.”

“Hey Pogo.” Diego smiled and hugged the chimp. “Anyone else turn up yet?”

“You are the first, but I expect your siblings shall be along shortly.”

“Delores?”

“The news got to her rather late, but she assured me she’d be on the first available plane.” Pogo informed. “Till then, she’s tasked me with keeping the rest of you in line.”

Number Two laughed. “Yeah, good luck.”

******

Next to arrive was Alison. Getting the news about Reginald’s death via paparazzi hadn’t been pretty, and frankly if it hadn’t gone down that way she probably wouldn’t have come. She had enough of her plate as it was.

“Onward to desert!” Delores ran across the large backyard, a then one year old Claire ridding piggyback. Patrick, who had been manning the grill for the barbecue, laughed and held the package of oreos over their heads. He was taller than Delores, so even with Claire on her back they couldn’t reach them.

Things had been a lot simpler when ‘Gammy Lori’ could be called any hour of the day. Having raised seven kids, Delores was much more capable of dealing with Claire than Alison was. It was hard sometimes not to take advantage of that.

It was even harder to stand by the lessons Delores had taught her and not take the easy way out.

“I want Gammy Lori!” a three year old Claire whined.

“Gammy Lori is working sweetie. She’s in Pennsylvania.”

“Where’s that?”

“A really long way away.”

“Can we go get her?”

“No, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s busy.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s very smart and works with smart people.”

“Why?”

“I heard a rumor that you stopped whining.”

******

Klaus tumbled in through one of the back doors and was immediately skimming the place for valuables.

"Really?" Ben's spirit said over his shoulder. "Didn't you tell Dede you'd keep at least a two month period between troubles with the law?"

"Hey, it's not like the old man is around to report anything stolen anymore. "God knows DT isn't gonna miss any of it; she hates this gaudy shit."

Every remaining member of the Umbrella Academy had a key to Delores' condo in the city. As such, it wasn't uncommon for her to come home to find one of them on her couch.

It was usually Klaus.

Number Four groaned as he blinked back to consciousness. His blurry vision focused in on the figure sitting on the coffee table. "Oh, hey DT. How long have you been here?"

"Couple hours. I came to check if you were alive again. You've been kinda in and out." While she didn't approve of Klaus' drug habits, Delores was the only one -- apart from Ben -- who understood why he had them.

"I didn't say anything stupid, did I?"

"You don't need drugs for that, Klausy."

"She's right, you know." Ben chimed from where he leaned against the couch's armrest.

Klaus threw a glare at the spirit over his shoulder before turning back to his caretaker. "Sorry, shady asshole must've mixed something in with the product. It's usually not that heavy...."

"Haven't I told you stay away from those types?"

"Com'on DT, I am one of those types!"

"Those are the rock bottom types that end up in a ditch somewhere." Delores flicked him in the head, making him wince as she rattled his hangover.

"Thank you!" Ben exclaimed.

"The type that don't have their big sister to push them into rehab. Speaking of, didn't you just get out of it like a week ago?" She continued, unaware that Number Six was even there.

"Maybe...." Klaus muttered. "But I'm not really the cold turkey type; you know that."

"There has to be something better." Delores sighed. "If you would stick around for more than a few days sleeping off a bender, you and I could figure it out! I've been riddling out your powers since you were born."

"No." Klaus said firmly. "Alright, I may be a deadbeat addict, but you are the one person who I refuse to mooch off of."

"Klausy --"

"Klaus --"

"Non!" He cut off both of them. "It took you way to long to get out from under dad's ass. You've finally got a life for yourself! Majority rules; you were out voted. No more mother henning!"

*******

Having the furthest to travel, it wasn't surprising that Luther arrived late to the mansion.

He had been the last of the Umbrella Academy, chasing the heroics dream Reginald kept feeding him. He and Delores had gotten into more than one argument regarding this, but she had always been there when he really needed her, wether she was angry with him or not.

Unfortunately, he had been out voted and she had left too.

Logically he knew it was good for her. She sounded so much happier on the phone than she had living here. The stubborn part of him that believed in the Academy's roles however knew her place was with them, even if they weren't kids anymore.

Delores hadn't been informed of his mission gone awry; his near death experience, what had brought him back, and the side effects of it. Reginald had done something or another to keep that out of the media, and Luther himself certainly wasn't looking to tell her.

The real kicker had been the moon mission. Reginald had sprung it on him so suddenly that he hadn't had the chance to call Delores beforehand.

He stood hunched in the doorway of her old room, eyes drifting over the relics she had left behind. Since Delores traveled so much, she hadn't taken everything with her when she first left. The majority of her things were now in her condo in the city, but there were still a few dusty pictures on the walls.

Moving forward caused his fingers to brush against the scritches on the doorway. Carved into the wood with one of Diego's knives were a series of dashes and dates marking the life of the Umbrella Academy.

Luther strained to stretch as straight as he could, resisting the urge to get on his tiptoes. He'd tried sneaking that past Delores and she'd smacked his head with the ruler.

The flat of a blade cut into the wood behind him and he immediately jumped forward to see her scratching the day's date next to it with a practiced hand.

"So?" He asked eagerly.

"Hmm." Delores held the ruler between an older mark and the mark she'd just made. "One and a half inches."

"Yes! I'm still the tallest!"

"Second tallest." Delores said, leaning her elbow atop his head.

"I told you to stop doing that!" He swatted at her, taking a step back to be out of reach.

"But you make such a good armrest!"

"Just you wait Dee; some day I'm gonna be even taller than you and you'll be the armrest!"

"Whatever you say squirt."

*******

Hesitant to come at all, Vanya was the last of the siblings to walk through the front door.

Ever quiet as a mouse, she stepped into the entry hall in near silence. Her sister was less so however.

"Vanya." Alison said in surprise as she came through the doorway of the living room. "You came."

"Hey Allison." Vanya smiled and accepted the hug offered to her.

Her flicker of confidence evaporated when Diego walked through the room and glared at her. "What's she doing here? You don't belong here, not after what you did."

"Diego now is not the time for fighting. And way to dress for the occasion by the way!" Alison called to his retreating back.

"At least I'm wearing black!"

"H-He's right, I shouldn't be here..." Vanya shook her head, wondering why she'd bothered. It wasn't like Delores would leave the country again without coming to see her -- she was the only family member who was still talking to her after all.

"No, hey." Alison cut her off. "I want you here."

The smile Vanya gave her sister was small and somewhat forced. The sentiment was kind, but patronizing. Everyone had been mad at her after her book had been published; even Delores.

Vanya unlocked her apartment door and jumped out of her skin at the sight of Delores sitting on her couch. She shouldn't be surprised at this point really, the older woman had mad it a habit since she'd been given a key.

"You should have locks on your windows." the caretaker commented idly.

"I live on the second floor."

"Rapist can climb."

"You are so weird." Vanya shook her head as she locked the door behind her.

"Oh now that's a simpleton word. You got much more creative as I recall. What was it? Apathetic, obtuse, and desperate to keep control?"

"M-my editor didn't like me making you a good guy when everyone else --"

"Oh will get to everyone else; you had no right to say what you did about them either. Airing out the dirty laundry for all to see....I'm really disappointed in you, Vanya."

*******

Vanya was the last of the Hargreeves siblings to walk through the front door, but certainly not the last to arrive.

After a very tense conversation about their father's death -- Luther was convinced it was murder, and while he didn't accuse anyone outright it was clear he didn't put it past them.

Everyone had split off to different areas of the house, and Luther thumbed through the records on the shelf in his room. The group really didn't do well as a group without Delores, but maybe he could at least minimize the hostility while they waited for her.

Finding the one he was looking for, he set it onto the player and turned the volume up as high as it would go. Soon enough, Delores' favorite song was echoing through the manor halls.

I think we're alone now

There doesn't seem to be anyone around

I think we're alone now

Alone now

The beating of our hearts is the onl-

The music was cut off rather abruptly as the walls and floor began to shake. Everything metallic went flying, and a large wave of something was glowing a familiar blue color in the backyard.

Next

[ihaspoorgrammer]

Legend of Korra: Alternate Season 2

In honor of LoK coming to Netflix, I’ve decided to vomit all my feelings towards that show the best way I can - creative writing - In a “What I think Should’ve Happened” essay for your reading pleasure. For those who don’t have the time, I’ll just come out and say it -- Legend of Korra was created with one season in mind, and that’s how it should've stayed.

All the concepts and ideas they introduced in the first season (and The Last Airbender) were more-or-less abandoned by the sequel so they could flounder and come to a deflating end.

So, I wrote this as a way to actually make use of them in a meaningful way that the creators so casually disregarded:

A few months after the battle with Amon, the Equalists have splintered into different cells throughout Republic City. Amon being revealed as a Waterbender weakened them, but that doesn’t take away from the larger points they championed about Bender/Non-Bender inequality. As a consequence, the United Forces soldiers are still a presence in the city, and Chief Biefong has made use of them as additional keepers of the peace, working with the Metalbending police to help rebuild and establish order, and has benefited greatly from the leadership of General Iroh and Commander Bumi.Korra is still airbending training with Tenzin as well as learning about the Avatar State, and she seems to have done a complete 180 in terms of her training; now dedicating herself to it full time to it. Tenzin is naturally happy about this development, but cautions her that the training will have to come naturally and it’s not something she can force, and is wary of how deeply her fight with Amon affected her.   The Fire Ferrets are preparing for their first match since last season against the Polar Leopards, Mako and Bolin steel their nerves while their new waterbender - Tahno - tells them to "relax" and "prepare to be amazed." After putting up a spirited fight, the Fire Ferrets and their opponents are tied. After ganging up on Tahno - who is at a disadvantage, being more accustomed to cheating - is saved by Mako. With seconds left, Tahno subtly bends the water on the opposing team’s side, and creates an ice-patch, causing an opponent to slip. Tahno takes advantage of this, and wins the match with a “Korra Special.” Only Mako notices the cheat.  After the match, Mako approaches Tahno about the cheating, but lets it slide. At Bolin’s suggestion, the two brothers go out to celebrate and invite Tahno along, but he opts out for "training” (after this, we see that Tahno has a picture of Korra in his locker, hinting that he only joined the Ferrets to make it up to her for restoring his bending).Asami has taken full control of Future Industries and personally oversees the production of new satomobiles and has saved Future Industries from bankruptcy with new airplanes designs. However, the company can't shake the black-eye her father gave it and her name, so business contacts have become scarce and shareholders have started pulling out. Worse, the board of directors have begun flexing their muscles to try and squeeze her out. She needs to come up with something good and fast.Mako, Bolin, and Tahno are in the middle of free-for-all sparring, when Tahno accidentally makes ice and headshots Bolin (which makes his vision comically go double). Mako scolds Tahno about it, causing Tahno to storm off.   Later that night on Air Temple Island, Mako brings Korra a meat dinner (Tenzin has put her on a vegetarian diet), but she declines. They begin to discuss Tahno’s participation in the team, which Mako believes was a bad idea, but Korra reminds him that Tahno has cut back on cheating, worked hard, and overall been a good addition (or stand-in for Korra). They share a nice couple-moment and laugh. We see Asami in the distance looking at them longingly, showing that she is still hurt over Mako leaving her for Korra. She starts to walk back to her room when she hears a strange noise in the distance. The source is Commander Bumi throwing his boomerang back and forth. After talking for a bit (and Bumi revealing that the boomerang once belonged to his uncle, Sokka), Bumi allows Asami to give it a throw. After a successful first try, she accidentally throws it through Tenzin's window. Bumi tells her "I didn't see anything if you didn't see anything." As he hops in the bushes to hide and Asami runs away. Laughing.  Meanwhile, a group of once-small time Triad gangs (they were "little people" before Amon "de-bended" the major families), are attacked by members of the Triple Threat. After a small battle, the Triple Threats win, and take with them a powerful bloodbender (or they start interrogating someone), leaving behind a message: “Lightning strikes twice.” ------

After that, Season 2 is in full swing. The Triads are the major Big Bad of this season because the purpose of the show was to be the opposite of Airbender, narratively speaking. So, that means keeping Korra and the cast firmly in Republic City and no more globe trotting.

This puts a bigger emphasis on the characters and their interpersonal relationships (which was the big draw of the show to begin with), rather than having to build up and explain the geo-politics of a new setting.

If they did stay for at least one more season, it probably would have emphasized a larger untapped well; the city was designed to be a 1920’s New York-style “melting-pot”, a place where all cultures come together and mix (Mako and Bolin are a product of a Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom union, and Tahno seems to be the a product of a Fire Nation and Water Tribe union). So, essentially, it’s the architectural equivalent of the Avatar. Just as the Avatar is the synergy of the four nations, Republic City does the exact same thing, just on a larger scale. One more season would better emphasize this fact, and show that despite what people think, it is possible for the four nations to co-exist as long as it’s based on mutual respect and sharing of differences, not domination of differences. This imaginary second season could also be used to address multiculturalism in any number of ways. 

Maybe the new Big Bad could’ve been a terrorist group dedicated to keeping the nations separate and "pure," and see the City as an affront to the Avatar’s “true responsibility.” And maybe Korra can see that, despite its flaws, the city and what it represents is worth saving. It also would have emphasised the “super-hero” aspect of the show; Korra being a Superman-figure who constantly has to protect her Metropolis from ever-constant calamities.  Another aspect that could’ve been added, was that the people of Republic City could’ve helped the Krew. You see, the citizens of Rep. City are constantly infantilized to the point of helplessness until Korra and co. show up to help. The opposite approach would have emphasised the multicultural aspect of the city, and how when push comes to shove, they are all one big family.Maybe even having a scene like from the original Spider-Man movie where the citizens actually help the Krew out, saying “you mess with one of us, you mess with all of us!”

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

From my perspective, there’s no better way to kick this off than introducing this monkey-wrench into the Krew’s system -- the return of Lightning Bolt Zolt, Mako and Bolin’s adoptive father.

See, in the backstory that the show never did anything with, after their parents died, Mako and Bolin became part of the Triads. Though Mako stresses to Korra that he only "ran numbers" for them during his time there. . . So either Mako is a mathematical prodigy, or he's lying. Because I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say he probably received no formal education on the streets that would enable him to work for the Triads in that capacity. So that begs the question: why would he lie? What did he do during his time working for the Triads, that would make him leave and never speak of it again? It’s because he was specially trained by Zolt personally. Learning Lightningbending in the process.

Now, Zolt will use this connection to manipulate Mako for his own purposes, which involves getting his bending back, which will of course drive a wedge between him and Korra.

Zolt may be a bastard, but he was arguably more of a father to him than Mako’s actual father, and that kind of emotional connection is hard to ignore. In fact, it’s such a shock to his system that his Lightningbending stops working.

Which brings him in contact with General Iroh.

When we first meet Mako, he’s determined, blunt, stubborn, and reserved. Understandably so, seeing as how his parents were murdered in front of him Batman-style and was forced to basically raise his little brother on his own, on the streets. As a consequence, one of his most defining characteristics is his inability to relax. He’s constantly trying to fix everything, constantly trying to help everybody, and constantly trying to remain in control. So, Avatar-style development demands that he gradually realize that he can’t control everything and learn to relax, allowing Bolin to become his own person, and learning to go with the flow. Which is something they actually didn’t do in the fourth season. He was largely extraneous to the story and they actually took every opportunity they had to show how useless he was.

Meanwhile, Bolin starts being approached by Lin Biefong, who believes the young man has the potential to be part of the Metalbending police force, despite his claims that he can’t Metalbend. However, Lin eventually realizes why he never could; he’s never had to apply himself. You need to have an unrelenting drive to force the minerals within to move, and that’s not something Bolin has ever needed. In Season 4 of the actual show, I almost applauded it for having Bolin sign up for the army because I thought that’s exactly what he needed -- a place to apply himself. Mako being such a mother-hen accidentally stunted Bolin’s emotional growth, never allowing him to mature and become independent. Which could lead into a very Sokka-like confession:

B: “Do you want to know something really terrible; I don’t miss them. Mako was the one that really knew them. I remember bits of things, but … They’re just … People I didn’t get to know. Mako’s the one that’s always been there for me.”

So here, Lin takes it upon herself to be his teacher and actually show his true potential. They grow closer as a result, and she and Bolin start developing a mother-son relationship. When we first meet Bolin, he’s immature, a show-off, something of a womanizer, a shameless flirt, and a goof-off. The unifying detail with the Bending Brothers is that Mako was sort of holding them both back; Mako’s over-protectiveness never allowed him to choose what was best for himself, and stunted Bolin’s emotional growth into becoming a more independent adult. What they could’ve done - if they wanted to save time - was to have their character arcs work off of each other -- while Mako becomes more relaxed and free-spirited, Bolin becomes more responsible and goal-oriented.

The only other place that the phrase “wasted potential” belongs besides in association with Tahno we’ll get to in a minute, but for now let’s focus on him. The creators once said that they “care about all the characters … except Tahno,” which should show the lack of imagination that was rather systemic in the thinking process there (and what liars they are).

From the start, Tahno is clearly deeply affected by Amon stripping him of his bending, even if Korra gave it back to him. And while he still resorts to cheating now and then, it’s not entirely because he’s a natural cheater … it’s because his bending hasn’t completely come back, and neither has Korra’s for that matter.

They’re both so traumatized by Amon’s Bloodbending that they’re experiencing “hiccups” in their powers.

Korra has tried to deal with it by doubling-down on her Airbender training to “find inner peace,” while Tahno is just trying to ignore it.

Eventually, their arcs cross paths, and they bond of their attempts at healing, having to come to terms with the fact that the “body heals only after the mind heals.” Which further draws a wedge between her and Mako.

Now, there is still a love-triangle here, but it’s in service to why Mako and Korra were brought together in the first place: they aren't supposed to be like Katara and Aang, where it was love-at-first-sight. They’re supposed to be the more realistic couple that have problems and have to make compromises because they love each other.

Love isn’t something that just happens, you have to work hard at it and make the other person happy without looking for the advantage. Relationships - both platonic and romantic - need to be built on mutual trust and understanding, and with understanding means taking a person for both their good and bad qualities.

Infatuation is the kind of love that is more shallow and doesn’t last.

Under direct orders from Fire Lord Zuko himself, General Iroh has started staying at Air Temple Island to watch over the Avatar, which leads him to becoming an unofficial therapist to the people staying there, namely Korra, Tahno, and Mako.Iroh is unique among the cast because he’s inherited Uncle Iroh’s position of someone who already has everything figured out themselves.

He grew up with loving parents and loving grandparents, and we learn that he had the honor of being one of the first firebenders taught by the Sun Warriors, who Zuko spent most of his life helping reconstruct (where he gained the nickname, “The Young Dragon”).

This new living situation makes him a part of the Krew later on, and brings him closer contact with Asami, who he develops a rapport with. And finally, we come to Asami, who is still dealing with losing her father and potentially losing everything else.

You don’t have the founder of a company be linked to a terrorist organisation and expect that company to survive, no matter what financial magic you can conjure. Which is something Asami is learning all too well.But in this madness, she meets two people -- Commander Bumi and General Iroh (who’s under an official Fire Lord order to watch over the Avatar).

She soon becomes Bumi’s ward, eventually, Bumi will act as a surrogate father for Asami, and she will help him organize, and win, a blimp race. From then on, she starts exclusively referring to him with the honorific, "commander."

They become so close that he starts teaching her everything Sokka taught him. You see, because Aang spent more time with Tenzin and Katara more time with Kya, that meant that Bumi ended up bonding with his non-bending uncle, (who later in life became master Piandao’s best student).

That’s why Bumi carries around Sokka's boomerang; Sokka was probably more of a father to him than Aang was.

So Sokka, never having children of his own after Suki tragically died, taught Bumi everything he knew, including how to recreate Space Earth Metal.And, after they grow closer, he decides to trust Asami with this sacred technique. … 

Which she immediately tries to patent and market in order to save Future Industries. However, when she learns how deeply she hurt Bumi by doing this, she finally cuts her losses and sells the company. After that, she decides to pursue a different career, perhaps by joining the United Forces. 

And, while all of this is happening, Tenzin is informed by the White Lotus that global bending birth rates are going down with the modernization and mechanization of the world. Signifying that people's disconnection with nature and spirituality is robbing them of their bending.

Just like what happened to the Fire Nation.

And if this rate continues, in a few generations, bending might completely disappear.

------

Avatar: The Last Airbender was aimed primarily at children and early teens, because those are big transitional times in young people's lives. But late-teens and early 20's are also big transitional phases in young people's lives. Perhaps even more so, because those are the times where you have to learn how to be an adult. A very alien concept.

So, Legend of Korra seemed primed to tackle the challenges of this time, but for one reason or another, they never did.

Despite having a golden opportunity to say some meaningful things about interracial families and multiculturalism, they instead, did nothing.

This is a quote from a Tumblr post who I sadly can’t track down, but it speaks volumes to what AtLA represented to people:

“You need ALL these things to survive and grow, to hold up your community and push yourself forward. You need to unlearn myths and lies, reform them to fit new realities. You need to respect the past but mold it for the future. In short, you have to “draw wisdom from many different places” while keeping true to who you are and where you come from. IDK if the creators of AtLA thought about these things when crafting this story; I think when a story is well told, with authenticity and love, it has the potential to illuminate many perspectives and strike empathy in many different people. Diasporic consciousness is incredibly valuable because it teaches us a different way of being, a way of interconnectedness and mutual love. The Gaang symbolizes this perfectly: it took all of them with all their different skills, to end the War and restore peace and balance. A diasporic consciousness has the same power: to model a newer, more just, more empathetic way of life.”

Tying into this, I think all the Avatars were wrong in their assertion that the four nations needed to be separated. Think about it. Every single nation failed, in their own way, because they were isolated: the Fire Nation became too proud of its own accomplishments, and became a fascist regime. The Air Nomads' loose and "free" nature allowed the Fire Nation to easily wipe them out. The "go with the flow" attitude of the Southern Water Tribe - similar to the Air Nomads - made them easy targets for the Fire Nation; while the Northern Water Tribe "froze over," becoming rigid in their doctrine and tradition, and could never stand against the Fire Nation alone; and the Earth Kingdom fell too far into its "virtue" of endurance, and became a military dictatorship with a puppet king, cutting off any ties to the outside world. 

“It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If we take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations, will help you become whole.”

While the "separate, but equal" stance towards the Four Nations may have been a good idea in the past, in recent years, it's proven to be a recipe for disaster. Most, if not all, of these failings could've been avoided if there had been more open dialogue between the Nations. There is a saving grace in the form of the Order of the White Lotus, but seeing how they all kindly fucked off until the shit really started to hit the fan, I can hardly see how they were a solution to the problem. Now, I really don’t know what else to say. I wrote this entire thing as an exercise to show how Legend of Korra failed in its duties to be an equal to its predecessor, because I was a fan.

Not just of AtLA, but of Lok as well. I watched it, I invested in it, and I was disappointed by it.

Others may have had all their hopes answered by the ending, but I was left with a pit in my stomach over how far the mighty had fallen.

And I don’t look forward to the show being adapted into live action because I don’t think I can take seeing all the lapses in creativity and common sense all over again.

[kinghoranshit]

Tell Me a Lie (NH) Ch 1

Word count: 1,514

Warnings: Swearing

Slightly frustrated, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and then twisted it into a messy bun. I set my classic square, thick rimmed, black glasses on my face and I continued on trying to read the final turnaround manuscript for Stone Cold. It was the first book of the trilogy that my best friend and I wrote through college. We decided to finally take the initiative to self-publish it. 

My bachelor’s was in English, with a concentration in creative writing. I was an editor for a company based in London, United Kingdom while I lived in the United States. I wasn’t ready to move across the ocean yet. 

I bit down on my black ballpoint pen, concentrating on the words. It was the read through before I’d make it into a PDF with InDesign. This was the time to make any last minute changes we wanted, which was both exciting and nerve-wracking. As my meadow eyes flowed across the paper, I barely made any marks. 

I glanced at the time on my phone and cursed under my breath. 

It was 6:00 pm. I needed to change my editing to the current manuscripts for work. 

Fuck. 

I marked my spot before I closed the binder and switched it out with the Rivals binder. There was a ding from my laptop before I could get indulged, and noticed Skype had pulled up. I furrowed my eyebrows and my heart skipped a bit when I saw his name and picture. I answered and adjusted my position so I was facing it more. 

His blue eyes filled my vision, literally. 

“Niall, back the fuck up.” 

His laugh sounded and he backed his phone away now. I was getting a wonderful view of bare chest hair and double chin now.

“Laureeeen.”

“Niaaalll,” I mocked.

He was obviously tired, but he wouldn’t sleep until he wanted to. He was a stubborn motherfucker like that, I’ve learned over the past few years. It didn’t matter what timezone he was in compared to me. Currently, he was six hours ahead.

He made a short laugh. “How’s it going?”

I shrugged as I brought my legs up to my chest and peered over them with my chin resting on my knees. “Alright, I had to stop the final editorial for Stone Cold and switch to one for work. Spent more time on it than I intended… It’ll be a late night.”

“Hast doth serious?” 

I made a small snort, laughing a little more. “Ye, hast doth tots serious. Why ist ye calling doth?” 

Niall laughed. “Doth hast a plan to present thee.”

“Ok. Can thee stop speaketh like thisth?” 

“Yes.”

I smiled. “What plan are you talking about?”

“I want you to be my next PR girlfriend.” 

I busted out laughing, hysterically. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t stop. 

“Kelly, love, I’m serious. This is a legit business offer.”

I stopped now, clearing my throat. “Really?” 

Niall nodded, ruffling a hand through his hair. 

“Why me? How did you come to the conclusion of having me as a PR girlfriend?”

He chuckled under his breath and sat up more on the couch. “Well… It’s just… Management thought it’s time for another PR girlfriend. I chose you because I thought you’d be able to handle it... and I don’t hate you.”

“Good to know.” I smirked, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach. “I’m not quite saying yes yet, and I’m not saying there has to be something in it for me… but is there?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the deal would be one tweet from me official account to promote the Stone Cold trilogy with the link, and Modest! will pay off all the student loan debts you have.”

My eyes went a little wide and I took a slow, deep breath. “That’s quite the trade, Nialler. I don’t know if I could accept all that for being your fake girlfriend.”

“Lauren, trust me, the trade is enough for what you might endure. It might not even be enough, now that I think about it. I sort of hate myself now for even thinking of dragging you in.”

I shook my head. “Niall… Don’t worry.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re saying yes?” 

“Yes. So, how is this going to work exactly?”

“Before we can even do anything, I’m gonna send ya papers to sign. Just formal stuff and liability.”

“Of course, of course,” I replied. My mind raced to how we would go about this, and I knew it would involve paparazzi. Photos would be spread everywhere and there would be no going back after it started. 

I bit the inside of my cheek as I played with the cap of my pen.

“What’re you thinking, Kelly?” Niall questioned, worry underlying his tone. 

I cleared my throat. “I’m not backing out, I promise. I just know that once it starts, there’s no going back. It’ll take time to adjust.” 

“I’ll be there every step of the way. Our first thing will be getting photos of us in public together and the fandom will kick it off from there… We’ll confirm it eventually. Then have an interview or two and events with red carpets.” 

“Okay.” I nodded with a slightly heavy sigh. “Sounds easy enough. When’re you thinking we’ll do the first photos?”

He let out a heavy sigh, causing his front ends to fly up momentarily, and then he couldn’t help himself from ruffling his hand through them. “If we can get the paperwork sorted in the next day or two, I was thinking in roughly two weeks. Location is still to be decided.”

“Okay. It’ll be great to see you in person again. We haven’t in over a year.” 

“Yeah, well I was busy with the tour,” he remarked with a chuckle. 

“I know, the last time I saw you was the Chicago show.”

He scoffed. “I can’t believe you bought the meet and greet. I got you backstage after the show.” 

I rolled my eyes. “I wanted to support one of my best friends. We got a great photo to commemorate.” 

“You’re right.” He lightly rolled his eyes. 

“What’s our cute meet story?” I asked, randomly considering it. I felt that it would be important for the fans to think we were believable. 

He smirked, his blue eyes brightening. “We met in London at a coffee shop a few years back by chance and continued to talk from there. I asked you out around my 25th birthday and you cried, saying yes. We’ve been together since… Good, right? I made up the story meself.”

I giggled. “Yeah, it’s good. So we’ve been together for over a year?... And I don’t think I cried. I think you cried after I said yes.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelly. How about no one cried then, yeah?” 

“Deal.” I stood up now and prepared my keurig to make a cup of decaf coffee. I needed something if I was going to get anything done after this call. I knew I spent too much time on personal projects; it was a constant fight. 

“Coffee, eh?” he snickered. 

I looked at him with an amused grin. “Always. But it’s decaf, a pick me up to get me through the rest of the work.”

Niall nodded. “Been there. Had some long studio sessions recently that led to a few cups of tea.”

“Man, I wish I hadn’t run out of my grey tea.” I would’ve preferred that for a night of editing. Coffee was more of an early morning and afternoon beverage. 

“You’re so basic,” he teased. “Where have the lessons I’ve taught you gone?”

I rolled my eyes. “In one ear and out the other.” I couldn’t help laughing at the offended look on his face. “I’m joking. Hey look, I should let you go so you get some sleep and I can get editing done.”

He yawned lightly. “Perfect. Goodnight, Lauren. Text ya soon.” 

“You too.” 

We made small waves and smiles before we ended the call. His face took a while to fade away from my mind. Honestly, it probably won't be until tomorrow. He was just so unforgettable and without a doubt the bestest friend to have. He could always make me smile on my lowest of days. Now we were going to possibly be a PR couple. 

Well this was fucking mad. I guess it was time for life to throw me another curveball to change my life; for better or for worse. I was going to go with it head on. 

I wasn’t sure how much I’d tell my friends and family at the moment. I should wait for the contract and see what my guidelines were. I knew that included my social media so I was going to go silent for a bit until it was settled. 

My eyes read the black ink on the paper, but my mind wasn’t registering anything. Fuck, I needed to focus. This wasn’t set and done yet. It shouldn’t be a concern for me at this point of time. 

Next: Ch 2 

[Masterlist]

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 62: Reach

Lance, Keith, and their friends have a brief but violent encounter with Daibazaal's top predator.

Trigger Warnings: -Blood/Gore -Death

First  Previous  Next

Lance isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but at some point, a few small amphorae start making their way around the table, and he starts to feel a little warm. One, he can tell, is a sweet, moist wine with a spice to it. It’s delightful, as is a much harsher liquor with a strong floral taste to it.

Unlike at the Frost Ball, Keith, while not quite sober, certainly isn’t drunk. He’s just a little more talkative, a little louder, a little more expressive with his hands, his ears, his face. His tail stays stubbornly wrapped around some part of Lance. The Altean is beginning to think it’s both a source of comfort and support, but also a bit possessive. He doesn’t particularly mind. He likes the idea that Keith’s proud to be with him, instead of uncomfortable or ashamed.

Everyone is slowly coming down from hysterics, still giggling at the awful cutscenes from Phantasm Killbot. Keith had been fascinated by the video game, having never really seen one before. He wasn’t very good at them, but improved a lot at the combat sections over the course of his playthrough with Pidge and Lotor.

“So, Keith,” Pidge begins, still giggling in Lance’s lap. “Did they get your bits right?”

“No. I don't have a red rocket.” Everyone laughs. “I'm a biped, for fuck's sake!” The laughter heightens, Keith grinning from where he’s still leaning against Lance’s side. “Also, I have eight nipples, not three.”

“If it makes you feel better, they didn’t get mine right, either,” Lance laughs. “I’m bigger than that.”

“Like hell you are,” Keith mutters.

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it to you.” Lance pretends to start untying his pants.

“Ew, no!" Pidge shrieks, covering their eyes. “Besides, Adam already told us!”

Lance’s hands freeze. “Adam told you?” He scowls, sighs. “Ah well. I have bigger problems. Judging by this, I am perceived as a cold, heartless, sociopath with a trophy husband whom I keep as a pet, along with the rest of my sizable harem. Go me.”

“Listen, listen.” Keith prods his chosen mate’s arm repeatedly, eager to make him smile, get his attention. “I don’t care what those fucks say about you. You are amazing, and beautiful, and every time I see your stupid face, it makes me smile.”

Lance bites back a laugh, though it shines in his eyes and scales. “Thank you, beloved. You are talented, and stubborn, and every time I see your gorgeous  face, it makes me smile, too.”

“What the fuck, Lance! You can’t steal my thing!” Everyone’s laughing, watching the young princes’ antics, teasing in their periphery.

“But it’s true! I love seeing your face. I’ll go track you down even when I’m supposed to be working just so I can see you.”

“Hm… Well, okay, but I would have expected you to be a bit more creative with you compliments, to be honest.”

“Wow. Tipsy you is merciless. I was not expecting to be annihilated in a single conversation.”

Lotor laughs, smirks at the two of them. “He gets it from his mother. She’s surprisingly… articulate.”

“Mnh, I dunno.” Pidge watches the couple closely. “I think Keith has his own, natural-born talent for it.”

“I have a natural talent for many things,” Keith declares, nibbling on some food. “But I’d never be mean about it. I just wanna make you laugh.”

“Aw, beloved! Quiznak, we need to drink together more often. All these cute little secrets-”

“I knowwwwww! I forgot how to shut up! I hate it!”

Lance grins, slips a bit of quintessence into Keith’s veins to take some of the edge off. He’s never really felt like this before, felt safe to be himself in company, safe to laugh, and goof off, and be physically affectionate with his spouse.

The last time he and Keith drank together, Lance only responded to Keith’s behavior. His people approved of his kindness for not scolding his spouse in public, but would never approve of this, of the way they lean against each other, touch each other, kiss each other.

This time spent on Daibazaal, where touch is more powerful than words, has him wondering if he’s the only Altean that misses their spouse while standing right next to them.

“Lance? You okay?”

“Yeah… I’m going to miss this when I go home. Being with you like this.” He tips their heads together. “I’d lose their respect in a heartbeat back home.”

“Hm.” Keith rubs his cheek against Lance’s shoulder, working his scent beneath the clothes and into the Altean’s skin. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we-”

A horrific shriek cuts through the night, through their evening.

Keith’s interrupted by screams, shouts from outside. A crash of metal against stone, something falling over and tumbling over the street. Lance hears an unearthly shriek, sees the way the people around him tense, get to their feet. They draw their weapons. Lance follows Keith’s lead, rising to stand beside his spouse.

"A kronil..." Lotor takes charge. “Pidge, Ilun, stay here. Thace, get your kits. Everyone else… Arm yourselves and come with me. Lance, take Ilun’s bow.”

Lance already has Ilun’s bow, an arrow nocked and ready. More shrieks, but the screams have died down. Instead, elk are grunting anxiously, wolves growling and snarling. Mashan comes in, her younger siblings in tow. They’re immediately beset by Thace and Ulaz, checking over their kits for wounds and such.

“Daddy,” Mashan squeaks. “There’s- It’s outside.”

“We know, kitten. Stay here with Ilun and Pidge, okay?” Ulaz turns to his mate. “You stay too. You’re needed.”

Thace nods, not even arguing as he attempts to soothe his children. Lance follows the other Galra into the abandoned square. The citizens, including the hunters, have retreated indoors, apparently unwilling to face whatever made that awful shriek. The night air crackles, the hunting party’s animals are tense, nervous. Wolves taking a protective stance over their cubs, elk dancing where they’re tied for the night.

Keith presses up against his back, and Lance can feel him trembling. As if the restless tension isn’t enough to clue him in, the realization that Keith, fearless, semi-feral warrior prince who lifts grown Alteans off their feet and throws people across training yards, is scared.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees a large shadow leap from the top of one den to another. Turning, he sees another shadow on his other side. There’s two, whatever they are. One lunges at a nearby elk, long fingers and arms diving down the animals throat, pulling its organs through its mouth. To say a chill courses through Lance’s veins would be an understatement. He understands the fear of the seasoned warriors around him. Noting that ends life in such a horrific way could be anything other than terrifying.

His heart is throbbing in his chest, but his hands remain steady. This is why these things are here. They followed the scent of food.

“Lance, stay close to me.”

“I will. I’ve got your back, beloved. I’ve got this.” He’s relieved when Keith doesn’t voice any doubts.

Granted, Keith doesn’t have time to voice anything before one of the creatures lands right in front of Lance. It’s horrifying. A long, thick tail; loose, hanging skin; four, bloody, long-fingered limbs; a dozen or so eyes swaying on stalks, turning in every direction- it doesn’t have a blind spot. It’s face is a collection of small, armored plates surrounding a beak dripping with blood.

The kronil lunges, long-fingered hands reaching for him. Lance ducks out of the way just in time, pulling Keith with him. In his peripheral vision, Lotor, Vrek, and Ulaz are engaging the other beast. No one else is around. They’re all hidden in their homes.

The kronil’s blood-slicked fingers miss Keith’s face by inches. If Lance hadn’t pulled him out of the way… Not something the prince wants to think about. Keith twists, swiping at the animal, but it dodges again, letting out a enrages scream, like daggers scraping down a pane of glass.

As the beast turns back to them again, Keith facing off this time, Lance realizes that this could be a problem. Keith has a sword, not a bow. The kronil’s vicious hands will reach him before he can deliver a killing blow.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?” The animal circles them, trying to find an opening where there’s not a weapon in the way.

“I know you think I’m a bad fighter, but I want you to stay at my back and I’m gonna square off, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lance finds himself facing the kronil, staring it down. He has two choices, keep his bow ready and wait for the beast to finally make a move, hoping he can kill it before it reaches him, or he can try shooting it from here and risking it dodging, leaving him slow to defend himself.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to shoot at it. It’s going to lunge for me, you come in from the side and slice its hands off. Then, we kill it.”

“Sounds good. Do it.”

Lance considers the circling beast, eyeing the long fingers that wanted to reach down his throat and pull his insides to the outside. If he shoots at its hands, he could still get a beak to the throat. What he needs to do is slow it down. What he needs to do is…

He spies the primary eye that the kronil is using to watch them. It’s larger than the others, swaying, hovering as it moves with them. Decision made, Lance fires, arrow slicing cleanly through the eye. The animal shrieks, shaking its head. Enraged, it leaps at the couple, Keith leaping to the side, sword slicing up through the animal’s arms as Lance dodges its sharp beak, firing another arrow into the side of its head, missing Keith’s cheek by a finger’s width. Keith's sword plunges through the top of its armored head, and blood splatters over both of them, slick and warm

On the opposite side of the square, Lotor’s on the other, larger kronil’s back, twisting it into the beast’s heart. Seeing the fight is over, Lance turns to Keith just in time for the young Galra to pull him into an embrace.

“Hey, beloved. I’m alright. I’m alright.” He squeezes his spouse back regardless. “You’re not hurt at all, are you?”

“No, I-”

“Help! I need some help!”

Lance and Keith take off, trusting the others to secure the area. It’s another hunter, inspecting a glassy-eyed she-wolf, her belly ripped open, blood and milk pooling beneath her. Around her, a litter of cubs, dead.

Keith tugs frantically on Lance’s arm. “Fix it. You can fix her!”

“No,” Lance murmurs. “I can’t.”

“Why not?!” The hunter demands, purple fingers digging into their palms, claws shedding their blood. Keith whimpers, tugging at his clothes. Galra filtering into the square seem equally distraught.

“She’s in shock,” Lance explains, kneeling in the wolf’s puddle, laying a hand on her head. He closes his eyes, threading quintessence through her fading body. “Even if I could fix her, she wouldn’t live. Rapid healing is traumatic, and she can’t handle it… I’m sorry-”

Lance’s eyes flutter, quintessence pooling, glowing beneath his lids, beneath his scales. His pointed ears twitch, mouth curving into a deeper frown. “There’s…” His glowing eyes open, and he reaches beneath the she-wolf, pulling out a small, bloodied cub, stirring weakly in his hand. “Oh, you good mama,” Lance breathes, running a sticky, wet hand over her fur. “You did such a good job.”

Quite suddenly desperate, Lance sets the weak, bleeding pup down in front of the she-wolf’s nose, hoping it stirs something in her. It doesn’t. His heart drops, even in the fact of something he already knew was inevitable.

Life is hard without a mother.

“I’m so sorry, mama. You tried so hard.” Lance lifts his gaze to the heart-broken hunter, still cradling their wolf’s head in their lap. “There’s nothing I can do for her, but I can honor her sacrifice. I can take what’s left of her, and use it to save her cub.”

The hunter nods. “If you can do something, do it.”

Lance nods, draws in a shuddering breath.

“She’s not in pain. She’s too much in shock to feel anything. This will be easy for her. And kind,” Lance promises.

The hunter bows his head, grieving for the loss of their loyal friend.

Summoning his courage, Lance closes his eyes again, drawing his quintessence to tips of his fingers. Keith’s kneeling just behind him, cheek pressed in between his shoulder blades. Realizing just how affected his spouse is, Lance senses the gravity of this animal’s death, the importance her life held for the people.

Drawing on his love for the man at his back, Lance siphons the last of the she-wolf’s energy, threading it into the cub in his hand. When the mother’s life is depleted, he cradles the cub to his chest, sewing his small, damaged body back together as slowly, gently, and carefully as he can.

Lance only heals the cub to the point that it’s out of danger. Once its life is no longer in question, he hands it to the hunter. “He will need splints on his hind legs, and should be confined to a very small, soft space for the night. I can finish healing him tomorrow, when he’s recovered more.”

The hunter nods, carries the cub inside. A pair of hunters lift the she-wolf’s body, carrying her way. Lance turns to Keith, smiling wanly. “Thank you for your help, beloved.”

Keith shakes his head, presses their foreheads together, thumbs brushing over scales. “You have no idea what you just did, but you did it, and I love you for that. That, and so many other things.”

“I love you too, beloved.” Lance tips his head to kiss Keith’s lips. “Come on. We should go home and clean up. We’re all bloodied.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

Lance doesn’t miss an unfamiliar glow in Keith’s eyes, nor the way the Galra takes his hand first, before Lance has even offered it. Instead of mentioning it, he lets Keith’s tail wrap around his ankle, keeping close against the cold of night as they check on everyone before parting ways.

Daibazaal is dangerous, but he’s never been in safer hands.

[2ofswords]

I'm gonna throw a massive curveball so feel free to give me a joke answer in return. Mark/Andrey from Pathologic ;)

nah, you’re getting serious answers, I’m bad at comedy.

when or if I started shipping it I will admit, it’s not a pairing that was crossing my mind. I saw you talking about it (though I didn’t read the entire tweet yet, but I was mildly interested and filed it in my head to read later... still have to do it, I’m afraid. “^^) and my first reaction was more or less “huh”. It’s not really bad just hard to imagine for me, since it’s not really two characters I see interacting and I never thought about it at all. So I noticed it and I’m not convinces yet but ready to listen. 

my thoughts: Okay, my first thought was legitimately: “Well this is at least better than Mark and Peter”. I’m just really not a fan of this one, at least with the Patho 2 characterization and I’m afraid I’m still a P2 person at heart. Bur Andrey and Mark share the same bite, the sass and the will to be very destructive for their creative vision. So that could work pretty well and involve lots and lots of scheming. However I also think their fights would turn bad to outright malicious if they have the slightest disagreement. They just are both bold personas who can be kind of petty and are not afraid to deal out harsh consequences and - again - both  are sharp-tongued and not afraid to use that. So they might be too similar and stubborn for their own good. Either way, them teeming up would be a noteworthy force and you definitelly don’t want to stand in their way.  At least with their P1 versions. Patho2 Mark seems a bit more cunning at a bit lest openly malicious to me. So that one could be less explosive but probably not less dangerous. And there could be more personal sympathy and conflict not only about shared goals and ambition but about the theme of being bound and having the feeling of being played themselves. 

What makes me happy about them: The Andrey picture with Mark’s scarf you drew was really cute. ^^ 

What makes me sad about them: Again I think they both have this need to surpass themselves but are still bound. Andrey to his brother who he sees as the true genius and who he heavily relies on. Mark to the play itself and the puppets who direct him as much as he directs them. So they both feel kind of trapped which is some desperation I can see them sharing. The second thing would be artistic disappointment, especially if we chose a time post Diurnal. The play has ended, the Polyhedron is destroyed. What now? What about these two?

Things done in fanfic that annoys me /  Things I look for in fanfic: Uhhhhhh... is there even fanfic?? If there is, I didn’t notice it and thus I have nothing to complain about... yet. And I am also not really invested in the pairing and thus just don’t have that much to say about their fanfic. “^^ I guess these two could be really good for some lively art talk? Crazy shenanigans that mess with other people in a lighthearted way could be fun for them.

My kinks:  Okay first of all and since first pairing ask: This phrasing is fucking weird! It sounds like I suddenly am supposed to talk about my own sexlife. I guess this is “the kinds of kink I would like to see with them / can imagine them having” The “not real fighting”-fighting, where both rile each other up and already know that they just want some crazy make-out but make a game of chicken out of it to see who will give up throwing petty arguments around. Also stupid dirty talk that makes no sense to anyone but them. 

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: This is a hard one for both of them and for very different reasons. Tbh Mark should just be single or... I don’t know move on and find his love in a different, town I just see nobody here who I would be comfortable with pairing. He doesn’t really have connections in P1 especially not friendly ones and in P2 his position of power and how he uses it just makes everything a bit uncomfortable for me. Andrey... I think after this horrible horrible breakup with Mark, he deserves someone nice, he can rely on. Like Eva. ^^ 

My happily ever after for them:  Their happy ever after would be banding together and crafting new plays. Worlds and stories that all come to live, play out spectacularly and burn into the ashes for their next project to continue. Which is great for them but... kings. Please don’t.