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Code Blue Ch. 51- I Am Negan

Summary: Jo runs into more trouble and lucky, maybe unlucky, for her, there's a new baddie in town and paired with Craig, it's double the bloody trouble as their dark side arises.

*Chapter Warnings* !!!DARK and GORY!!! Reader discretion advised!! language, angst, violence, graphic depictions, blood, mentions of guns, sexual language, offensive language, smoking, alcohol use, death

Chapter characters: Josie, Jeffrey aka Negan, Craig, Aaron, Brandon

Chapter word count: 5,392

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Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The weight of your luggage did not even compare to how heavy your heart was as you stood outside your apartment door, teary eyed and torn over the decision to leave, even if it you planned for it to only be temporary. You finally had something that was all yours and you had to leave it behind all because of your sister's screw ups and you felt guilty for feeling that way about Megan after what happened to her.

Her poor choices always always seemed to fall back on you in some way and this time it was all because she had wanted to hurt you by getting involved with Ethan, but her wicked games and karma caused her to become hurt instead. Still, deep down inside, you knew Ethan was the only one to blame and now, since she survived and could possibly identify her attacker, she and your mom could be in danger because you had a very intuitive feeling that Megan was not supposed to be found alive.

As you made your way out the front door of the suburban Salem complex and approached your car, you caught sight of the gardener Craig had been speaking with when Luke had dropped you off. He was cutting some brush by a small woodland area off to the side of the building and the tall, salt and peppered shirtless man of slender build and tattoos certainly noticed you.

"Whoa....damn!" he rudely and loudly acclaimed as his eyes were indiscreetly undressing you.

"Eww. As if..." you snidely muttered and began putting your bags in the trunk as quick as you could.

Just as you were finishing up, you were startled by the sound of a rumbling vehicle coming to a screeching stop. As you closed the trunk, your eyes bulged when you saw a Pontiac Trans Am quickly backing up. The same beaten up classic car of the 70's that pursued yours in a vengeful highspeed chase through the downtown streets of Salem that contained 4 very pissed off hillbilly bar thugs, only this time there were 2. You knew it was inevitable that your Monte Carlo would be spotted at some point since it stuck out like a sore thumb and that unfortunate time was now. Pulling your Kubaton from your purse, you gripped it at your side and would stick to your plan of lying and pray they were as stupid as they looked.

The pair parked in front of you and turned off the engine, then got out and casually approached you, one walking on each side of your car, leaving you trapped between them at the back.

The one that drove came from your left and traced his forefinger alongside your car in a taunting manner. He was maybe mid thirties, had short dark hair and was quite tall, slender and bearded, much like the gardener that you noticed was now fully clothed and watching like a hungry hawk from the trees.

The other man, boy you should say, came from your right and was much shorter and younger, maybe mid twenties with longer dark hair...and clutched in his hand, swinging at his side was a crowbar.

The taller man spoke as he stopped at your bumper. "Well well well. What do we have here? Is this your Super Sport darlin?"

Standing your ground, you firmly replied. "It's not for sale if that's what you're asking."

The man chuckle and glanced at the other. "I don't believe I asked that question. Did you hear me ask that question Brandon?"

The younger answered in agreement. "Nope. I don't believe I heard you ask that question Aaron."

Now that the faces had names, Aaron took a baby step forward. "Is THIS your car? It's a simple question and a simple yes or no will suffice."

"Yes. Why?"

"Now see? That's not a simple yes, but then again, you are blonde. I don't like blondes and I ask the questions. Ain't that right Brandon?"

"Yep. That's right Aaron. I like blondes though. I prefer plump ones but I'm not opposed to tasting a beanpole." Brandon grinned as he glided his tongue over his teeth.

A sound you couldn't quite describe other than an eerie two-toned whistle, high then low like a doorbell, rode in on the warm afternoon breeze and then a voice spoke with a deep intriguing melody like Lee's, only Lee's was smooth as Crown Royal. This one had a grizzly edge to it.

"Is that so Brandumb? Plump as in joy toy plump? Seems your type. Never stuck my dick in a hot air balloon simply because I've never had the problem of getting laid by a real woman." the gardener jibed as he swaggered in from the sidelines with a cocky tone and grinned like the cat that ate the canary, or was about to, then his intensely rich hazel eyes found you. "You alright here sweetheart?"

Frazzled by the intimidating stranger and his profound dimples, all you could do was gape at him, just like the two other men were doing.

Brandon frowned when the lightbulb turned on. "Wait, did you just call me Bran...dumb? Did he just call me dumb Aaron?"

There was that dimpled grin again as the witty gardener barbed him again. "Well at least you got big alert ears under that perm. Maybe Dumbo would be a better choice?"

Aaron glared at the gardener. "Yes, I think he just called you dumb Brandon and also implied you screw blow up dolls and compared you to an elephant."

"Well damn, there I go again, saying shit exactly as I see it and what I see is a couple of redneck assholes who reiterate their names in every motherfucking sentence to appear all big and smart and spooky like a frill necked lizard, but guess what? I am a goddamn feral cat that eats reptiles like you for breakfast."

You jaw was still dropped, if not more than before, at this highly confident man as he stood at your side with a curled smirk, but Aaron and Brandon were much more astonished as they glanced at each other, seemingly not knowing what to do.

"Ahhh, it seems you boys are DUMBfounded. How fitting. Now, how about one of you speak up as to why you're harassing this young lady and trust me when I say this. It better be a damn good reason. Oh wait a minute. There is no damn good reason for that."

Aaron finally spoke up and fearlessly stepped forward, standing at arm's length before the towering gardener. "I don't believe I got your name boy."

And standing at least 6'2, the amazon gardener also stepped forward, merely inches from Aaron as he leered down at him. "That's because I didn't give it to you pencil dick, but when I do, I'll only need to say it once because you will most certainly never forget it."

Before Aaron could respond, the gardener sniffed the air, stepped back and made a sour expression. "Holyyyyy shitballs of fire, WHAT is that stench?? It could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. Do you wear deodorant son? I'm about to start swinging a flyswatter and call you Pig-pen. I can only imagine what it smells like inside that piece of shit Pontiac over there on this humid day. Even the wind is trying to run."

For you, it was like sitting in class all over again and desperately trying to not burst out in laughter at a most inappropriate time over a joke your friend made. At this point, you knew 2 things for sure about this middle aged man. One was that he was absolutely fearless, considering he stood there with no weapon, provoking two nefarious men when one was armed with a rather large crow bar and the other had steam coming out of his ears. And two, this gardener was an original wisenheimer with a perverse and twisted sense of humor that you were quite frankly enjoying and you had to wonder if that was just his character or if something traumatic had made him that way. Whatever it was, he was killing you softly with his song.

Brandon snorted and chortled. "He got ya good Aaron."

Aaron's arm shot out like a chameleon's tongue snatching it's prey and smacked the back of Brandon's head with his open palm. "Shut your mouth boy. You'll answer to Daryl later for that one."

The nameless gardener couldn't hold his snarky tongue. "Oh let me guess. Daryl's your other brother? Now that would be hella fuckin funny if one of your names were Daryl too."

Now you giggled because you actually understood the reference, but Brandon didn't.

"I don't git it? What's he mean Aaron?"

Aaron's lips curled inwards. "I've about had enough of you AND your jokes mister, whoever the hell you are. Now let this here bitch answer my question."

The gardener's teeth gritted. "The only bitch I see here is you. You will ask her her name and politely address her by it. Bitch I said what I said. Have I made myself clear or do I have to go all ninja cat and paint this street red?"

He then looked down at you. "What's your name darlin?"

"It's Josie." you softly answered and then muttered as you tried to quietly rectify what he said. "and..um...it's Doja Cat."

"Pardon?"

"The song...paint the town red. It's by Doja Cat."

He was silent and stunned for a moment as his hazel hues delved deep into your eyes, making you almost choke on your own gulp. Had you pissed him off? You couldn't read him well enough yet and you probably should have just kept your mouth shut, but then, a grinch like grin formed on his thin lips.

"Well goddamn and fuck me sideways. I stand corrected and hard! Look at you Josie the pussycat, all puttin me in my place. I am 100 percent more into you now. Just sayin."

The gardener glanced down at the mini mind blowing weapon in your hand and then... paired with enraptured eyes, his voice became somewhat of a growl.

"My kinda woman. What'ya say there tiny Trouble? You wanna join me in shutting this shit down by painting the street red?"

His menacing eyes fixated on the two men, then he took a swig out of his water canteen, which you were standing close enough to get a good whiff of and realize it definitely was not water that he swallowed with incredible ease, but something of a very potent proof ...and then he smiled at them. His first smile full of beautiful teeth. As captivating as it was, it was also frightening.

The almost brawl was interrupted by an irate voice coming out of left field. Craig's....who was now nicely groomed, above and below the neck, minus the tie, as if he were going to some business meeting and tucked inside his belt, very visible on his frontside where his black suit coat hung open, was a gun.

"Everybody needs to back the fuck up. Nobody's painting my street red. Take the blood bath to the abandoned junk pile in the thicket down the block."

The gardener leaned down to you with a smirk and whispered his warm whiskey tainted breath upon your face. "Busted. The principal's here."

Craig gave the gardener a disciplining look. "What the fuck are you doing man? We don't need this attention here. And what in the blimey hell is that smell??? Is that pig shit?"

"Oh that. That's just Karen and Brenda. Some BULLshit that I was just about to shovel up and dispose of."

"Looks to me like you were about to smear that stench all over my property and right here for anyone to witness. You sending out an invite to the rest of the pigs?? Jo...what's going on here?"

"Craig...I..."

Your attempt to explain was immediately thwarted by Aaron stepping up to Craig, who's hand abruptly gripped his gun with caution as he gave due warning.

"Step the fuck back cowboy."

Aaron calmly raised his hands and complied by slowly retreating to a safe distance before he spoke. "This here car, which is too distinct to be mistaken for another, was driven by a man who attacked myself, Brandon here and 2 of my boys at the bar last week and your girl here was just about to get in it."

Both Craig's and the gardener's incredulous eyes simultaneously darted right to you.

"Ok, ok. "you swiftly intervened and rambled out your little white lie with your fingers crossed behind your back. "Look...it's my car yes, but not long ago, it was stolen and I just got it back, so I don't know anything about you being attacked. I've never seen either of you before in my life."

"Well now. Is that so?" Aaron countered with a skeptical tone. "It was dark and rainy that night. You wouldn't have seen us anyways from the headlights dead on your car. But we could see into yours. I counted 3 heads. You could have easily been one of them in this here car. So then, if what you claim is true, you must know who stole it right? Cops must have dusted her for prints."

"I said it wasn't me. Take it or leave it. Cops found it abandoned, keys in it and all and there was no hit on the prints. They must have worn gloves. And for the record, IF I had ever seen you, it would be damn hard to forget a pair of faces that only a mother could love."

The gardener was tickled to his core. "Ohhh that sassy mouth. You're killin me girl. You a bad bitch."

Ugh...all you could see when you heard the term bad bitch, was Gerry's drunken text to Megan that he had accidentally sent you....which you still had in your phone.

"Well there you have it. It was all a simple misunderstanding." Craig firmly attested. "She gave you your answer. You can't blame her for something she didn't do and even if by chance she had, what exactly was it you two hayseeds were going to do to a woman who was out here all by herself? I mean, your brother here is carrying a crowbar the size of my entire arm."

"Who, MIND you, made a very dick minded comment that was signed on the dotted line by his slithering tongue." the gardener readily informed.

Brandon defended the accusation with confidence. "Nahhh, I's just gonna mess the car up, thas all."

Craig's cynical eyes narrowed, causing a small vein on his forehead to become more prominent which you had noticed only happened when he was boiling inside.

"Oh. Is THAS all? No, I don't think that's what you were going to do at all. You see, I know your backwoods kind and I think you weren't even going to care about her answer and I think you were going to drag her into that pigpen on wheels and do something really really bad to her. In fact, I KNOW that was your plan and now, it's not even about a misunderstanding anymore. It's now personal when you mess with someone I care about. You took a wrong fucking turn and now you're in my territory you sorry shits. What do ya'll say we head on down the road and finish this conversation where it's more private."

The gardener, whom you were now beginning to get the distinct feeling that was not his sole profession, but more so in the "business" with Craig, cheerfully taunted the men with their soon to be fate.

"Oh snnnnap. It's really gonna suck to be you girls today. You done gone and pissed the boss man off. Hope you got your shittin pants on."

"Toss the crowbar. Now." Craig ordered.

"Hey, that ain't fair man. You got a gun." Brandon protested and frantically looked at Aaron. "What do I do man?

"What, are you 12? Life ain't fucking fair shit for brains." the gardener declared. "And don't ask Airhead what to do. He sure as shit don't know what to do. But I'll tell you what you're gonna do. Absolutely fucking nothing because that's all you scrotums have done since you rolled in here Joe Dirt style. Word war is over and now it's time to throw hands. Now, the great and powerful Craig has spoken. Give me the crowbar before I knock you somewhere over the fucking rainbow with it."

As the gardener held out his hand, Craig lowered it with his. "No. Let the trembling tin man keep his axe. As I said, I know his kind and he's too damn rusty to use it."

"Fine by me. Now move before I out my size 13 shitkickers up your insubordinate asses." the unknown soldier under Craig's command, commanded.

"No." Aaron adamantly stated.

"What did you say?" Craig asked as he leaned into Aaron with his hand cupped to his ear.

"I said..."

Craig swiftly snatched the kubaton from your hand and cracked him straight over the head with it, instantly drawing blood.

"Ahhh, fuck man." he wailed and dropped to his knees as the scarlet liquid streamed over his eye, blinding him.

"Oh DAMNNN Sharon, that had to hurt. I felt that crack from clear over here." the gardener chuckled and yanked him to his feet. "Come on naw, giddy up!"

The fun was over for you and now you were second guessing the entire situation as you had the disturbing flashback of doing that to Luke. As the gardener lit up a cigarette and blew donut holes while walking behind the men and flipping them off, you turned to Craig.

"Craig. Come on. Just let them go with their tail between their legs." you pleaded. "I'm a little worried here. I know you're going through some bad shit right now and need to vent but I mean seriously, what more are you going to do to them??"

"Oh..I.." he stressed. "Am not going to do anything. He is. Now, don't you worry about me. I'm a big boy and have done this more times than you know. You said you had things to do, so why don't you run along like a good girl and do them. You don't need to see this and I don't need the distraction of you being there in harm's way."

"Don't even give me your condescending bullshit. Like hell I will leave when this is happening because of me. I'm a big girl and have seen more than you know. You seem to have forgotten who my brother is!" you snapped and marched off to catch up with the mystery man.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Craig huffed and followed the parade, lighting up his own smoke on the way.

"You smoke?" the gardener asked and held his cigarette out to you.

"I..I used to..but...what the hell. I'll take a hit."

"Thata girl."

One puff and you were coughing and gagging, for you didn't realize it was a menthol.

"You alright there sweet cheeks?" he asked and patted you on the back.

"Yeah..I'm just used to regulars."

"Eww...as if." he smugly riposted and winked at you, then took a huge drag.

You felt your cheeks burning bright red and wanted to crawl under a rock. He had heard your rude comment in reply to his rude comment....but now, you didn't feel that way about him anymore and all of that could change right back after what you were about to see, or...you could like him even more. It was kind of hard to judge him when he was doing the same exact things Jason did. Taking the bad guys down. It made you chuckle inside though, because Sonny was the boss of all of them and he...was a bad guy.

"Sorry." you mumbled in embarrassment.

"Don't sweat it cupcake. It's my bad. I don't know if you've noticed, but I lack a filter on my thoughts. What can I say? That I'm sorry for thinking that you're one fine ass looking femme fatale? I'd be lying because I'm most definitely not sorry for appreciating such a vision...but I will apologize for not using my inside voice. So for that, I'm sorry Josie."

Although his jokes had receded for the moment, his honesty remained in tact but it was ok because he wasn't being inappropriate and you were actually quite flattered. Most importantly though, he was very genuine and humble with those 2 little words that most people didn't mean or found too difficult to say.

"You're forgiven and I'm sorry for saying something so mean."

"Soooo, you don't think I'm...eww as you so bluntly put it?"

"No, of course not."

"Well darlin, you might soon enough."

"Do you know Jason? Surely you must if you're one of Sonny's men like Craig is."

He was quiet and kept his eyes straight ahead as he finished his cigarette and flicked it at Brandon's head.

"Jason's my brother and I've seen it all. The good, the bad and the ugly."

Now his eyes scrolled down to yours, nice and wide. "No shit?? Morgan's your brother? Never would have guessed THAT." he jested. "Well...it sucks donkey balls what happened. I'm sorry for your lo..."

"She knows he alive." Craig cut in with an attitude as he now walked on the other side of you.

"Donkey balls?" you said with giggling astonishment. "Is that how you offer condolences?"

"Hey, believe it or not, I don't always have the words for certain things."

"Never would have guessed THAT."

"Damn girl. I LIKE you."

"That way ladies." Craig barked as he pushed the men into a wooded path and literally turned to give the gardener a severe stink eye.

The gardener was back to his comical comments as he quietly made one to you. "Uh oh SpaghettiO's. Are you and the landlord of the rings an item? because I just got scolded by the salty jealous eye of Sauron."

"Ohhh...n..no. I'm actually already taken. Well..." you corrected. "My heart is anyways."

"I see. Well, I tip my hat to that lucky son of a bitch and even to Craig because he gets to have you under his roof. Can't say I blame him for being sweet on you."

"Craig and I are just friends. No need to read into things."

"As I've already stated earlier, I call things as I see them and I know Craig like I know my own dick....ok...that didn't exactly come out the way I wanted it to, but I think you get the gist. Anywho, he's either truly madly deeply in love with you or he's well on his way there. One of the two."

Maybe you didn't see it before, but now that your eyes were opened to the possibility, it didn't seem that far fetched after the last 2 eventful days with Craig. You and he were definitely growing closer but either way, you couldn't think about that. Now...or ever. Lee was the only one who would ever fully have your heart.

"Let's get this shit show on the road already. I'm already running late." Craig rattled off as you all came to a remote clearing surrounded by overgrown brush that contained a few junked greyhounds and a pile of various tires. "And you stay back Jo. I mean it." he adamantly added and handed you back your kubaton, then walked off.

You froze solid and held your breath as the gardener stood at the point of a triangle with the men while Craig hung out on the sidelines, casually observing with his hands on his hips. He clearly meant what he said. The unarmed gardener was going to handle both men all on his own.

"Are we pissin our pants yet? Cause it's about to be pee pee pants city here real damn quick. Now which one of you candy-ass namby pambies should I pick first? I can't decide." he tormented as he ominously circled them. "I got an idea. Let's play a game. Eeny... meeny... miny... moe. Catch a piggy...by his toe. If he hollers...let him go."

Your heart raced as he came full circle and stopped in front of them and made his choice.

"My mother told me to pick the very best one and you....are....it."

The gardener glowered down at Brandon who's Adam apple prominently bobbed up and down in a gulp of fear.

"Go ahead. Take a swing at me with that iron bar boy. I triple dog dare you."

Aaron couldn't take it anymore and bravely stepped forward. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size tough guy. Leave the boy alone. You and me. Let's do this. I triple dog dare YOU."

"Don't you threaten me with a good time! And for the record, the BOY will get what he had every intention on giving. But if you insist on going first, by all means TOUGH GUY. Hit me with your best sh..."

Aaron spontaneously sucker punched him below the belt and then stepped back with both fists clenched and ready.

A grunt escaped the hunched gardener's lips and then he bellowed in laughter as he slowly stood up, unphased and ignited for war....and finally, he revealed his name.

"Well hot damn, collect two hundred and pass go! Ol boy here likes to play dirty huh? Well I'm the motherfucking king of dirty!! My nut sack is made of steel and I....am....Negan."

Aaron's fists lowered as his eyes widened. "I....I know that name. You...you're the notorious leader of that gang...the..the Saviors? The one who carries a bat wrapped in barbed wire and you..you're the one who burnt and disfigured Dwight's face with an iron!"

A stunned Brandon darted his eyes to the newly named Negan. "You're the one who did that to our boy Dwight??"

Negan made a sarcastic smirk as he looked up at the sky. "Uh oh Lucille. Looks like I've got some splainin to do."

He then brought his hardened eyes back to Aaron. "I told you you'd never forget my name. Ahhh, where to begin. How about with Dwighty boy. So that traitorous prick's been hiding, with a bunch of stank ass bumpkins? Small fucking world. You see, he ain't YOUR boy, he's mine and he touched something of mine and EVERYBODY knows not to touch something of mine so...he got what he had coming to him. Scarred for life indeed he is, for he scarred someone I loved for life, just as this little maggot here was going to do to Josie and that is so not cool in my fucking rule book. You got your clique and I got mine, the only difference is, yours is trash and the Saviors rid the world of trash like you. Too bad I didn't have Lucille here today because she's a vampire bat and she's been very fucking thirsty lately. SO...I'll just have to make due with what I've got. My trusty ol charismatic hands."

Negan's arm zipped out and clutched the back of Aaron's shirt, then he began dragging him over to one of the busses, opened the door and pummeled Aaron's head with it, over and over...bang, bang, bang.

Brandon contemplated on fight or flight, and he chose flight.

"Hey Jeff! We got a runner." Craig called out.

"Jeff?" you muttered, realizing that Negan must have been a stage name like Jason used with the last name of Morgan.

Negan left a whimpering Aaron on the ground and leisurely walked off after Brandon as he whistled that threatening tune once again.

"Going somewhere yellow-belly??"

Brandon spun around and tried to reason with Negan.

"Look." he smiled and turned. "I'm going to put the crowbar down and..."

Negan didn't let him finish because Negan didn't care. His eyes slitted and with his jaw clenched shut, he bee-lined for Brandon, snatching up a sizeable rock along the way and blindsiding Brandon with a powerful blow to the head and once he was down, Negan stood straddling him and gave him another strike for good measure.

Somewhere in that horror scene, you found yourself in Craig's arms, peeking out with one eye, only to watch Negan go and retrieve the crowbar. As he did so, Aaron appeared, revived and ready for more.

Negan smiled at the bloody sight of him, somewhat stunned to see him standing. "Good god, you got one thick ass scull and a death wish. How bout we test out this crowbar on that noggin? You know, kind of like a crash dummy test?"

"You've made your point Negan. Let me take my brother and go. We won't be a problem anymore."

"Oh you've got that right Arianna. You see, I don't like loose ends, for they are a most certainly a problem."

"Jo, don't watch anymore." Craig advised and placed his large hand over your head to shelter you from what was about to happen.

You didn't fight him as you burrowed your face into his the bare section of his chest where his shirt was not buttoned and then you winced as you heard it. The final crack.

All was silent and you slowly raised your head up to see a perspiring and panting Negan standing over Aaron's motionless and most likely lifeless body.

He then turned a sour face to Craig. "Thanks for all your help."

"I didn't want blood on my clean white shirt and you did fine all by yourself, just like you always do."

Still clutched to Craig, he could feel you shaking. "I told you not to come. Are you...alright?"

"Mmm..hmm." you whimpered with a nod and tear glazed eyes.

Negan's demeanor had changed. He was angry, almost as if he hated what he had done.

"I warned you too. How do you like me now sweetheart?" he groaned, then snapped at Craig before he headed over to a small stream to clean up. "You better get your boys over here to clean this mess up. I ain't the fucking maid."

Craig sighed and took out his phone as you stood there in complete shock. You may have witnessed things like this before, but it didn't mean it didn't negatively affect you, just as it seemed to had done to Negan...or Jeff.

Craig's phone call brought you back to reality. "I got a clean up at the junk pile and there's also a trans am outside the complex to get rid of. Keys are in it. Yes..yes I'm sure! I saw them in the ignition as I walked by. Take care of that first before it draws attention and call me back asap when it's done."

You and Craig walked over to Negan who was crouched down at the stream and washing his stressed face.

"The guys are on the way. You good man? Come on. Let's get out of here." Craig quietly relayed.

You could tell he wasn't feeling all that well about it either, but you knew in that line of work, they had to suck it up and deal with it, which once again had you questioning why in the hell they even chose that lifestyle. You asked Jason that many times and his answer was always the same. To make the world a better place and your thoughts were always the same as well. Then why did he work under a man like Sonny Corinthos? Probably because he was untouchable which meant they would be too, but that wasn't even logical. None of them were invincible nor immortal. It just never made any damn sense to you.

"Yeah, good as the good gets I suppose. I'm ready to blow this popsicle stand. I need a ride downtown to get my bike at Xtreme Motors. Fucking thing stalling on me all the time."

Xtreme motors. One of the many businesses Sonny owned throughout Salem where Jason also took his bike for repairs. Hell, the mob boss damn near owned have the waterfront too.

Craig's phone rang again. The cleaners didn't mess around. They were quick.

"Is it done?" Craig asked, straight to the point and then the expression on his face fell flat. "What do you mean the fucking car is gone???"

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#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #love stories #dark stories #dark fiction #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #negan #craig parker #jolee #organized crime #blood and gore

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theluckywizard · 11 months

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In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 40: A Keep and a Question

In the Shattering of Things

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Chapter 40: A Keep and a Question

Chapter Summary: As the Inquisition claims Skyhold, Rose must decide whether she wishes to accept the leadership role that her friends have been planning to offer her.

Excerpt:

They all wait for my answer.

Instead, I walk out.

“I have to think this through,” I say, heading out the door onto the battlements outside. I knew there was a chance it could happen but I thought it would be a discussion between all of us, not an ambush. My suitability seems to have been predetermined, but they’re forgetting that my optimism is a reckless bear, my organizational skills are woefully lacking, and my tendency to get into life threatening trouble in the field is assured.

Maker, I’ve just gotten used to being the Herald of Andraste and now they want to give me real responsibility? I hear the door open and close behind me. I glance up to see Cullen checking in on me.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“My friends have all decided to make me Inquisitor without consulting me,” I say. “How do you think I feel?” Cullen looks sheepish and leans against a merlon.

“You could refuse,” he suggests and I give him a sharp look, trying to understand how, exactly, they could spring this on me in this way.

“Cullen, you just said there’s no one you’d rather see in the position. Was that a lie? Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“I– no. I think you’re the best available candidate.”

“Then why would you tell me I could refuse?”

“Because you can. I wouldn’t take that choice from you. It won’t be easy to be Inquisitor,” he says earnestly. “It’s a sacrifice. And you’ve given so much already.”

“But you believe I could do it?”

“Of course you could. You’re– the best of us. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do it. You don’t.”

“Then talk me out of it. As an exercise,” I beg him. He nods and then stands, rubbing his hand across his stubble and then glances up at me.

“You’ll have to make impossible decisions.”

“I’ve already made impossible decisions.”

“Worse ones. Ones you’ll have to live with until the end of your days. Hundreds, potentially thousands of deaths on your hands. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I could handle it.”

“That’s a lot of darkness to carry. Knowing that you were the one responsible. I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

“I think I could bear it. And if it changes me, hopefully it would only make me stronger.” He paces in a small figure eight and looks up again when he’s thought of another point.

“Everyone will have their own agenda and will be trying to influence you. You won’t know who to trust.”

“I already know who I can trust.”

“Do you? How well do you really know any of us?” It feels like an admonishment– that I’m too trusting. And even though this is an exercise, I feel the weight of it, like there’s some truth. I’ve always leaned on my intuition to determine trustworthiness and little more.

“That’s a good point,” I admit. “I think I have good instincts about people though.”

“You do. Though you tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt before they’ve ever earned it.”

“True.”

“People will try to assassinate you.”

“People are already trying to kill me,” I say with a look of amusement.

“True.” He paces away and reaches up for the back of his neck and then peeks at me cautiously before saying the next one.

“Your relationship with the rest of us will change,” he says. “You’ll become our leader. We’ll answer to you. We’ll no longer be on the same footing.” For some reason this one feels heavier, like there’s personal relevance that sits off kilter inside him.

“I would never treat you like subordinates.”

“Like it or not, that’s what we would be. You would have the final word.”

“Does this mean you won’t argue with me?” I ask, a little smile creeping up my left cheek. He returns it, casting a lively look with a little shake of his head.

“Oh, I think we’ll argue as much as ever. But you’ll win by default.”

“Sounds fabulous. Where do I sign up?” I joke. “So you’re saying I couldn’t be friends with any of you.”

“Not exactly– but there’s a degree of professionalism that would certainly impact how we all interact with you,” he explains.

“You mean like calling me by a title and never using my given name?” I say in a pointed poke. He laughs at his boots.

“You’re a menace, Herald,” he says, poking back about as hard as he ever does.

“This is why you were asking me my opinion about the encampment and our forces earlier, wasn’t it? Because you knew you’d all be asking me to do this.”

“I didn’t quite realize it at the time, but I suppose so, yes.”

“So you think I should do it? If you were asking me, you must have believed I’d accept.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he scolds me. “I think you’d make us proud. And if you didn’t want to do it, I’d support your right to refuse.” I’m reading him, because I care about his opinion but I can’t get a feel for what he wants.

“Talk me into it.”

Tagging DAFF Crew:

#dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #cullen x trevelyan #in the shattering of things #cullen x female inquisitor #cullenmance #rose trevelyan #theluckywizard #dragon age #cullen rutherford #got them to skyhold #end act 1 #slow burn #things are about to heat up #eventual smut #enter hawke

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shivunin · 1 year

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Late to the party, but here I am for the Codex Prompts! ✨

What about, for Emma...

10. a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while

Maybe late, but I am delighted to have you, as always! There is cake and popcorn and we're going to rewatch the extended edition of Fellowship after this. You haven't missed a thing c:

(and if you still aren't feeling well there is fresh bread and soup and some nice hot tea. I hope you feel better soon!)

(Codex Prompts)

10. A letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while (for Emmaera Lavellan)

A letter hand-delivered to the Dalish encampment outside Wycome.

15 Bloomingtide, 9:44 Dragon

Inquisitor,

I’ve shooed everyone out of the Viscount’s office for a few moments, so I’ve got to keep this brief.

I said there was space for you here and now I’ve made sure of it. The manor in Hightown is well stocked with books recommended by Dorian, furnishings chosen by the Ambassador or Hawke, and a small garden that Merrill has agreed to take care of until you make your way here. Say the word and it will be fully staffed within a week.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.

I’m not saying that this thing with your clan isn’t going to work out. Of course not.

What I’m saying is, you have options, so don’t do anything rash like…I don’t know, run off into the forests alone to hunt our old friend yourself. I know it’s been hard, but you’ve got another family here the moment you need it. I have it on good authority that the trip from Wycome to Kirkwall is under a few weeks when the weather is good, and now’s the time for it.

You don’t have to make a decision right now, Lavellan. If it were me, I would want to know my options. That’s all. Don’t count us out yet.

Anyway—I don’t have much more to report. Hawke made me the godfather after all, if you can believe it. I’d complain about having to share, but how could I with such fine company as a Prince and a Warden? He’s a cute kid, Inquisitor. You should come down here if you can, even if just to meet him. That invitation is hers, by the way, though I’d be glad to see you either way.

Take care, Inquisitor. There are people who care about you here.

Now, I can hear Bran breathing down the keyhole, so I’ll end things here. Let me know as soon as you’re thinking about visiting and I’ll show you the very best of the city. It’s a short list, but a good one.

As always, I remain

Your friend,

Varric Tethras

Titles and roles etc. etc. You remember all the ones that matter.

#emmaera lavellan #my writing #haha more wander lore c: just when you thought it was over there was more #varric: your self-destructive tendencies make me very worried for your wellbeing. come be in my city where i can control the outcome please #i have made it very nice and tempting and i am very worried *please*#thanks for the prompt arja <3 #(it's fellowship and not the other ones bc fellowship has that scene where .arwen says #'if you want him come and claim him' and um i'm weak so)#(sorry it's only imaginary soup and bread and tea but i really do hope you're feeling better)#codex prompt response #prompt response #shivunin scrivening

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satancopilotsmytardis · 11 months

Note

7, 9, and 17!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

I like just being able to make something entirely with words! Whole worlds, histories, feelings! Just made out of strings of letters. I have always been a person who like making things, so writing is a wonderful way of doing so for me.

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

I believe that the energy of living things must be changed in some fundamental way when it leaves the body and I believe that people may not fully understand that process. (I have no fucking clue but sometimes places do be 'spooky' in strange imperceptible ways and I'm open to the possibility that ghosts are the cause.)

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I have. NINE current WIPS. Thankfully I can group up a good number of them.

I have a bunch of installments in the Mishap series that I'm working on which while looking like nothing more than PWPs, are actually a fun way of exploring emotional intimacy as much as physical intimacy because one of my favorite things to do is discuss the idea of BDSM as a way of exploring vulnerabilities that it might be uncomfortable or frightening to do in other settings.

There's also Bonded, which I am really struggling with. I started writing the series just because I was having fun playing with a lot of silly ideas, but Shattered is much more serious in tone and while I usually love that, and I have a full outline of Shattered as well as outlines for the next two installments as well, I just haven't found the joy in it that I did in the beginning. I really like how chapter 6 wraps up, and it's been torture trying to move on to chapter 7. I don't know when I'll get over that hump, but it's been 3 months and I still haven't managed it yet.

Tumblr prompts, going well enough. Taking this as an opportunity to just write fast(ish) snippets. I often really want to linger and show how relationships develop thoroughly because (and especially with ShigaDabiHawks) I need a believable progression to show how those character could have possibly ended up together when they're at odds with each other's goals. However, for these I'm just going ham and that's a nice little change of pace.

Stalling out on the original piece (shigadabi with the serial numbers filed off because I wanted to use an original fantasy setting I've used for other OC work). Having trouble balancing how to progress the plot without losing the spark between the two characters after a... disagreement.

The Hanahaki piece is my fucking baby right now. Feeling as good about this one as I did about Honeytrap and Grey Area. It's so achingly tender and I love it to absolute bits. I have one area that I'm still trying to make a decision on and thought that the tumblr prompts would be a good way to step back and give it some breathing room after banging out 27k for it in two days. I'm very excited about this one.

And last but not least, the Time Travel fic! I'm enjoying this one too but I'm thinking about it logistically right now and trying to decide if I'm going to make it a multi-chapter or not. I usually don't like to do that because I write very differently for a multi-chap than I do for a one-shot and I much prefer the style of writing for an insanely long one-shot than a multi-chap (yes this may be why Shattered is fucking me up so badly, also why I really hated Playing Favorites by the end), but I'm not sure if it would be too jarring to go from Hawks' POV to Dabi's after minimum of 12K in Hawks' POV, but I need some scenes to be from Dabi's so eeehhhh. I'll figure it out. I like this one, alternate timelines are always fun to play around with and the butterfly effect here is so fucking strong.

I think I'm going to be finishing the Tumblr prompts before going back to the Hanahaki fic, but we'll see! And this is all dependent on me not starting any more pieces in the meantime. Which. Oof.

Thanks for asking!

#tanco speaks #ask #asks #writer ask game

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inverswayart · 1 year

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@vaguely-concerned part 4, Harrier Hawke

6. If they were badly injured, and for whatever reason couldn't go to a hospital, who would they go to for help?

Does Anders count as a hospital? :D

Jokes aside, if Harrier couldn't go to him (which would be his first choice even before they got close), I think he would try to crawl to Varric's room in Hanged Man - Harrier knows that he has enough connections to get him a healer and that Varric likes him enough to do his best at not letting Harrier die. He also might try to reach Merrill - she's not a healer, but she knows enough about blood to help, right?

21. What is more important to them, friends or family?

Harrier rarely got to have actual friends before Kirkwall, so before that it was firmly family. After fleeing Ferelden it starts to shift slowly as he gains friends and loses family members. By the Act 3 Harrier is left with very little of his family and while he is on good terms with Gamlen, they are not close, so priority naturally fully shifts to Harrier’s friends.

32. If they could change one thing about themselves what would it be?

Harrier’s biggest grip with himself is his magic - the kind of magic that he wields, exactly. When Malcolm was dying, Harrier wished he was a healer; when Bethany was killed by an ogre, he wished he could cast shields or just burn the beast to a bloody crisp; and when Leandra went missing, he wished he was better at blood magic to track her down faster. And even after he’d actually learned it, on the trip to Warden’s prison Harrier saw how Malcolm despised blood magic and wished his children to never know about it, so Harrier regretted that choice too.

34. How well do they deal with grief?

On the surface Harrier fares pretty well - he stays mostly functional and quickly returns to his usual funnyman ways. However, he has an inclination for self-harm that only grows stronger as the time passes and his grief keeps piling up. When he took up blood magic it was both to boost his power (as after the deep roads he felt extremely weak and was willing to grab anything to make him strong enough to keep what’s left of his family safe) and in a way punish himself with pain and stigma that comes with it. So, in the end, not that great, honestly.

35. Do they believe in fate or do they believe they are in charge of their own destiny?

100% fate. Harrier is fully convinced he has no power over his life and the world; his life does little to dissuade him.

(And in a weird way maybe it’s for the better - if atop everything else he was carrying perceived guilt for letting everything go to shit I don;’t think he would’ve made it to the end)

44. Who, if anyone, would they trust with their deepest secrets?

At first it was Bethany - for a long time Harrier felt like she was the only one who could understand him, and they got very close as a result. After her death and Harrier’s arrival to Kirkwall that role is slowly taken by Merrill - especially after Harrier becomes her student in blood magic. Anders is close contender but Harrier feels it would be unfair to pile up even more stuff on his shoulders with clinic, mage underground and everything.

50. What is your favorite thing about them?

I have a bit of a weak spot for the sad clown archetype and Harrier feels it pretty well. He also allows me to imagine him in musical numbers with whatever song i feel fits his vibe at the moment and it’s nice. Also his mullet - it was very much a spur of the moment decision but it fits him so well I can’t imagine him without it now :.D

#tag for words #ask #dragon age #dragon age 2 #m!hawke #harrier hawke #tag for OCs

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biblioflyer · 1 year

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Picard s1e5 Rewatch: Revisiting First Impressions and Space Trolley Problems

I have spent quite a few keystrokes defending this series. This episode is significantly more challenging. I disliked it intensely when it originally aired, I have softened a bit and am better able to recognize the way it is invoking classic Trek exploration of morality and human nature.

However, the tone of this episode is all over the place and I’m at a loss for whether the cognitive dissonance created by the silliness and the darkness is intentional or the result of a series of very weird decisions.

Intentionally or accidentally this episode does set up an interesting backstory to the significantly less utilitarian and brutal Seven of Nine we see in Season Three and I’ll unpack that particular theory in a second post after the Season Three finale airs just for the sake of completion since whether or not Seven remains with Starfleet will probably say a lot about the character's arc.

This is part of a series of essays reevaluating Star Trek Picard and interrogating the widely held fandom criticism that Picard made the Federation into a Dystopia.

Absolute Candor: My Memory of the Episode

I’ve been dreading this episode. I have a vivid memory of feeling very much that this is where season one took a real dive in terms of how much I enjoyed it and how troubled I was by the world building. It starts with a character I was only peripherally aware of dying without me having more than a vague idea of his backstory. I haven’t seen a lot of Voyager’s later seasons. The switch to UPN was problematic because that station wasn’t included in my cable package at the time and I could, with great effort and favorable atmospheric conditions, get it in via an aerial affiliate if I positioned my coat hanger antenna just right. I also just never really made an effort to revisit the series on streaming.

As I’ve matured in my own awareness of how I react to different motifs and developed a more sophisticated idea of “fandom” Icheb’s death left me with a vague sense that if I was a Voyager fan, I’d probably be very outraged. I could recognize that a returning character was being mishandled even if I didn’t fully comprehend who that character was or what their significance was. And that bothered me.

That’s not to say that everything needs to be safe and no one can die in Star Trek. Far from it. However there’s lightyears of difference between dying at the end of a decent arc and coming back only to be killed off in a solitary scene to serve as the explanation for why a more prominent character is darker and more tortured.

I also remembered the crew of Serenity ahem La Sirena’s disguise shenanigans being more significant and sillier than it was. Still, I have to award a point to Team Immersion and the Anon who messaged to say I was being snotty towards Realism Hawks: I had a vague recollection that it defied believability that no one would recognize Picard or that his ridiculous overacting would fool anyone.

I stand by this. The showrunners clearly wanted a classic Star Trek over the top infiltration storyline in which the characters cosplay as gangster clichés but it really doesn’t fit in well with the rest of the series or even the intensity of the rest of the storyline of this episode.

Finally, the most striking thing in my memory was Seven’s “rampage.” Which I remembered as being more violent and a significant refutation of what I would regard as the default moral positioning of the rest of the franchise: namely that revenge and killing in cold blood is bad. I remembered Seven’s execution of Bjazl being framed as more confidently the correct action than it was, although it’s still very ambiguous on a rewatch.

Sorry for the tease, but because this is such a Seven centric episode and functionally begins her narrative arc in Star Trek Picard, its going to be difficult to talk about this episode in isolation.

The Rewatch

Killing in the Name of (Plot)

In the years since this episode originally aired, I still haven’t watched the later seasons of Voyager and still don’t have an emotional connection to Icheb. I don’t know if that makes it worse or better, but I still very strongly feel like he was treated as disposable and fans of the character would be right to be angry.

Some commenters will occasionally use phrases like “CW edge” as a slur to describe this era of Star Trek. As a longtime but far from uncritical fan of Supernatural, I think I know what they’re talking about. Some of it is angst that substitutes for truly complex writing wherein characters chew the scenery and oversell emotional reactions to situations that don’t make sense or feel unearned. Some of this is also the casual killing off of interesting characters in way that their deaths only really serve to remind the audience the characters aren’t immortal (except that the main characters kind of are, even when they die they don’t stay dead) and the deaths of these characters tend to be shocking rather than narratively interesting.

Icheb and Maddox’s deaths definitely feel like they’re largely props to move the story forward or justify the aberrant behavior of main characters, rather than their deaths having a meaning of their own absent narrative convenience.

It's notable that this is where the trend of returning minor characters being in serious danger of being killed off, with or without much in the way of development, begins and it begins epically with not one, but two returning supporting characters being killed off. There’s surely also a deliberate attempt at an artistic flourish by having their deaths bookend the episode.

This is definitely a place where I think a valid criticism could be made that Star Trek Picard was attempting to be a “prestige drama” like The Sopranos or Breaking Bad but with a merely superficial understanding of the narrative purpose of death in those shows or the narrative function of death in Star Trek. AKA “CW edge.”

Having Picard be part of the infiltration team still seems quite silly. This isn’t the first time that Picard has done this sort of thing, but that was before he was among the most famous people in the galaxy having acted as the face of the Romulan resettlement effort for several years and within the last several days prior to arriving on Freecloud, he had just given an interview that went very sideways about it.

The setup is classic TNG camp and that’s actually a problem given the way the series so far has attempted to preserve the moral heart of the franchise while also being critical about some of the narrative contrivances and unexamined assumptions of the franchise. It very much seems like someone thought that they needed some camp to offset the profoundly haunting opening scene and to put the audience back at ease before things got very, very dark again.

And I just don’t know how to defend this unless the absurdity of the entire setup is part of the deconstruction. Except that it didn’t blow up in their faces because the cosplay and theater was too absurd and the crew was too arrogant in their planning, it blew up because they trusted Seven to be playing straight with them. It's harsh but it's true: Seven used the crew of La Sirena and their cause, and jeopardized that cause, in order to maneuver herself into a position where she could kill Bjazl.

Her conversation with Picard about recovering their humanity after being liberated from the Collective is also key to the framing of these events. I’ll do a deep dive into the ethics of Seven’s execution of Bjazl in a follow up, but I think it's clear that this is implied to be at least in part because Seven’s moral compass is out of alignment with even where she thinks it probably ought to be and has lost sight of whether she’s doing what needs doing because no one else will do it or if she’s allowed expediency and utilitarian values to suppress her humanity.

I suspect maybe this may have led to Seven recognizing a need for connection to other people, such as Raffi, and eventually viewing Starfleet as a different sort of Collective she could plug into, one that she generally viewed as noble given her experiences with Voyager, and thus whose structures could provide a layer of accountability and guidance when she could not trust herself. If that was her intent, it's clearly not going to plan. I’m not going to write a lot more about this because the finale is coming up and how or if it closes out Seven’s arc on Picard will probably say a lot about Seven, Starfleet, and whether the two can be compatible with each other.

Another casualty of this episode is Elnor. This begins what I recall as a long trend of Elnor primarily being muscle and comic relief. None of the baggage from “Absolute Candor” and his relationship with Picard is even vaguely alluded to.

Jiurati killing Maddox is actually far more tragic and heartbreaking than I recalled. The affection in Jiurati’s holovids affected me more and felt less narratively contrived. Maybe I’m more sentimental, world weary, and vulnerable than I was three years ago. If ever there was a reason to rewatch stuff, it's perhaps because we are sometimes not the same people we were.

Next time on Biblioflyer: a dissection of Seven’s execution of Bjazl and an attempt to unpack whether the show intended for us to view it as righteous or not and what it says about who Seven of Nine is as a person when we find her. It's mostly done but I’m holding it back until after the finale of season three in case it influences my thinking. Rest assured, it’s not a drive by. Get it? Drive by? Because she shoots a bunch of folks. Anyway….

#seven of nine #Picard s1e5 #stardust city rag #Icheb #Star Trek Picard #Picard rewatch #star trek ethics

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thyandrawrites · 2 years

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The ramp-up at the end of the chapter somehow feels.....pretty inconsistent to me? We know Dabi is not planning to live through this, but the point during the last war seemed to be to make Endvr watch the destruction he causes. Even a little before this he says "the tension has dropped" now that Endvr is no longer here. So why is he burning himself out to take out Shouto now?

Mmh, I'll admit that I have very mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand, rather than seeing it as inconsistent, I thought it was rather abrupt and unexpected. It struck me as out of place as what happened two chapters ago, with Toga reverting to her deviant hedonist self who cannot properly connect to others, sort of eating up her character development. It is indeed strange that Dabi is giving up all caution to go out in a final blaze of glory, but it's not as strange when you see that as character regression. Linkspooky recently broke down this concept really well in this meta here. Basically, what's happening right now is that the villains are not progressing towards the eventual resolution of their character arcs, but rather regressing as a result of the heroes' failure to connect with them. The heroes' job here is supposed to be that of exercising empathy and seeing that what made them villains is not some inherent evil lurking inside them, but rather the sum of bad circustances + systemic rejection and scapegoating of those who don't fit in the norms their society is based on. Yet, ever since this arc started, the kids haven't yet reached that point, and are instead parroting the type of language that reinforces the League's oppression, however unconsciously.

So for example when Deku tells Toga that he can't understand emulation as a feasible form of love, he's just unconsciously echoeing the abuse she went through — indirectly calling her a deviant for how she expresses her emotions, just like her parents and society. And when he tells her that he cannot accept how she hurts others for her own sake, without realizing that heroes do the exact same thing to villains, he's just reinforcing the idea that villains aren't people, not in the eyes of heroes. He's saying that only heroes can live freely without consequences for their own violence, just like how Hawks got away with murdering her friend Jin. But the same doesn't apply to her, or to people like her.

Deku condemning Toga's lifestyle but in the same beat seeing nothing wrong with hero society is what prompts her shutting off, and her decision to just fight the two people she previously loved, putting everything behind her. Seeking violence for violence's sake as a result of the umpteenth rejection from society.

I think that something similar is happening with Dabi.

All his life, Touya has been met times and times again with the reminder that he's a failure, that he's not good enough, and that his father will never acknowledge him as worthy of his time. Let's remember that what happened during the war arc was the culmination of a plan that spanned over eight years.

All this time, Touya has been plotting a way to finally get to meet with his father on equal grounds. Becoming a villain was instrumental to that, and so was pushing his body past its limits. Anything to reach a point where his strength would no longer be overlooked or ignored.

Yet, just like how Toga anticipated her meeting with Izuku as the moment she would get a better answer than the one she got from Ochako, and then had her hopes shattered with continued rejection, the same happened to Touya. He put all his money on this fight, believing that he'd finally done enough during the war for his father to consider him a legit threat. Much like when he was a kid, he didn't let himself be dissuaded by Endvr's continued avoidance, but instead fully convinced himself that Enji would show up the next time.

Yet, even after literally returning from the grave... Even after trashing his father's reputation on national tv, after burning his treasured heir alive in front of his eyes, even after the whole hero world is once again gathered here to wipe out the League, his father is still stubbornly elsewhere.

In this light, I don't read his going full out and destroying his body as particularly extreme; in fact, I'd say it's almost linear. Dabi has a pattern of self-harming with increased intensity the more he feels rejected from his father, and being ignored even after pulling off an overarching revenge plot that spanned eight years of his life... I think that would push anyone over the edge. Especially since the idea of "strength" is so ingrained into Dabi's worldview. He spent all this time pushing himself, training his quirk for their final confrontation despite the fact that his body is now even less capable of sustaining it, all because — again, I'm stressing this — he wanted to be as strong as his father and couldn't meet him while he was weak.

To Dabi, being as strong as or even stronger than Shouto was always the key to earning his father's respect back. And in fact, he trained himself to a point where his fire output is hotter than Shouto's,

So by all means, between his quirk prowess and the chaos he wrecked in hero society post war, this time he's not particularly wrong about how Enji should've given him his undivided attention. It's not that Dabi particularly expected Enji to become fatherly all of a sudden and care about facing his son. Dabi was counting on them meeting again as hero and villain. Remember that Enji is a hero obssesed with villain takedowns. He neglected his family for years because his job was more important than them, and Dabi meant to exploit this for his own gain. If he couldn't get his father to look at him by being a good fit for an heir, and if Enji used his job as an excuse to keep avoiding him, Dabi would become such a threat to the status quo that he would give his father no choice but to meet him on the other side of a battlefield. Then he would destroy his career and everything he loved. As a terrorist, he couldn't be overlooked anymore.

Or so he thought.

But the moment the portals close, one thing becomes very obvious. Enji isn't there. Not only that, but there's not even any high ranking heroes on the team assigned to take Dabi down. Just an high schooler (whose flames burn less hot than his), and a bunch of his father's sidekicks.

Now, of course we readers know that there was some amount of planning dedicated to the heroes' formation. Those who are facing Dabi are supposed to be the ones who can handle his flames the best and who aren't needed on AFO's side of the battle. But what Dabi sees is just that Enji didn't acknowledge his strength once again. Not only did he not bother showing up in person, but he also once again considered Dabi second-best to someone else, this time a (stronger) villain, AFO, who got all his undivided attention. Once again, all Dabi hears his father say is "failure, failure, failure. You are so weak, even my sidekicks can deal with you on their own. I don't need to be there."

And that's what prompts the "excessiveness" of those last pages. I think it's meant to read as an excalation, as a worsening for the heroes' odds to succeed.

In Toga's case, her character regression appears less self-destructive at face value because it doesn't involve graphic injuries, but both are shut-downs and thus indicate a negative development.

Now, I'm not particularly worried about Dabi not surviving this fight (or the manga), as I mentioned over and over in the past months. But the reason why I opened this reply stating I have mixed feelings about this is that I'm not thrilled with how things are going so far. I don't really subscribe to the time travel theory (yet?), so the breakneck pace at which any attempt at a conversation between the two sides is going to shit is not very promising. Despite this, I still think an understanding will be reached, because Horikoshi set it up, and Horikoshi doesn't do unexpected plot twists that you don't see coming from a mile away. So there's no way he's put as much narrative focus on the themes of connecting and empathizing only to then go back on all that work to kill them for shock value. But the fact that the heroes so far are doing everything wrong does make me question just how does Horikoshi plan to fix this

I'm willing to give him a chance on it, though. So far, the best writing in bnha always has always been tied to the League one way or another; judging from the great lenghts of sympathy and the spectrum of human emotion he shows us through the villains, I don't think he's about to throw them to the wolves. Not after he so clearly got attached to them too. I will believe that he knows what he's doing and this is happening for a reason

#Ali replies #Meta:dabi #Meta:toga #Bnha spoilers #Bnha 350 #Bnha 349 #My post #Maybe I'm a fool but I'd rather be hopeful than miserable at things that have yet to happen

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ilikekidsshows · 3 years

Note

Hi! I loved the Adrinette analysis you made...do you think you could make a similar one for Ladybug and Chat Noir over seasons 1 to 3?

I knew I was leaving myself open for this ask, and I kinda dreaded it, because 80% of Ladynoir screen time is dedicated to defeating an Akuma, meaning the characters have something else to focus on rather than progressing their relationship, and most the relationship stuff is just Marinette being really stubborn and refusing to properly look at her partner. In other words, there's significantly more screen time, but also proportionally less stuff going on in Ladynoir than in Adrinette because the characters are superheroes on the job and one party is actively resisting any development happening. It's also a very different kind of arc and relationship to Adrinette where the goal is just the two of them getting closer and more comfortable with each other. Ladynoir has that as well as all the trust issues and superhero team dynamics. Basically, this post is definitive proof that Miraculous has had plot development before season four, and it has had a lot of it. I got almost dizzy with it while compiling this.

Once again, I’m trying to go in a somewhat chronological order to properly track the relationship.

In 'Origins', we only get one-sided Ladynoir stuff. Marinette is new on the job and completely focused on solving the Akuma problem and nothing else. Meanwhile, Adrien actually takes note of his partner. He sees her flounder but ultimately put together a clever plan. He sees her lose faith but ultimately pick herself up and deliver a really badass speech at Hawk Moth. It's really no wonder he fell in love. The number one thing he learned about Ladybug is that she can fail and the second thing was that she could pick herself up again and grab the win anyway. I've brought up earlier in the Top Adrinette Scene discussion that Adrien is very scared of failing, because his father does not forgive failure, so Ladybug being someone who can turn a failure into a win understandably makes his heart go pitter-patter.

Meanwhile, Marinette barely noticed her partner. As I said, she was fully focused on solving the problem, but she was also getting distracted by her own insecurities. Marinette's first experience with Cat Noir was that he was kinda smooth and seemed to be much more confident than Marinette. Her second experience was that he tended to leap before he looked, but was perfectly willing to listen to her say-so. We have a very brief attempt at flirtation from Cat Noir, that Ladybug barely seems to even notice.

In 'Bubbler', Cat Noir actually gets to flirt with his Lady. He's clearly intent on getting her to notice what he's getting at, but Ladybug seems mostly exasperated with him. At this point their partnership is new and Marinette is most likely thinking back to their first case, when Cat Noir was so patient and supportive and not this...much. She still doesn't tell him to quit it, though, meaning she’s trying to accept him being a lot.

'Stormy Weather' has Cat Noir continuing in his attempts to get Ladybug to notice him and this time she responds playfully when they're not right in the middle of a tense situation. She's getting used to this being Cat's way of interacting with her and keeping the mood light.

'Lady Wifi' has the pair discussing the secrecy between them, with Adrien actively making the decision that honoring Ladybug's wishes concerning keeping their secret identities is more important than knowing the identity of the girl he's in love with, that doing so is the proper way to love her. 'Lady Wifi' is also the first time Marinette panics at the idea of something romantic being suggested about her and Cat Noir, when Alya says Adrien might be Cat Noir, that Cat Noir might be the boy she's repeatedly told Alya she's in love with.

'Copycat' shows us for a fact that Ladybug has no idea that Cat Noir's flirtations with her are genuine, and Cat Noir is growing tired of his feelings going entirely unnoticed.

Because of his growing frustration over not being able to communicate his feelings to Ladybug in a manner that she'd take seriously, Adrien goes the extra mile to write her a love poem in 'Dark Cupid'. When he receives a response that appeared with no sender, just a ladybug, he entertains the thought that Ladybug answered his poem and does in fact return his feelings (not realizing that Ladybug would need to know his identity to deliver such a note to him specifically, but Adrien does generally worry less about secret identities than Marinette). 'Dark Cupid' is also the first occasion of Marinette's by-now patented plan "Pretend to be in Love with Cat Noir" to solve problems, except that she was absolutely certain that a True Love's Kiss could occur between them, so there isn't even much room for pretending, but Marinette's denial is so powerful, she'll try.

In 'The Mime' we see Cat Noir actually testing Ladybug's receptiveness to a date, by suggesting that they could have gone to the play together if they didn't have to detransform. Ladybug replies that she has other plans before zipping away, and Cat Noir merely smiles after her. His feelings are growing, and he might still be remembering the love note he got. In fact, this is probably why he says "We are meant to be," in 'Gamer'.

In 'Animan' Ladybug actually does some of her own flirting with Cat Noir by giving him chin scritches. We also see a very straightforward gesture of affection from Cat Noir to Ladybug, when he hugs her in relief after the battle. Ladybug smiles softly at him, seeing that her partner cares about her well-being, while Cat Noir jumps back, embarrassed over his own reaction, or perhaps even afraid of censure. Adrien isn't the type of person to suddenly grab people in a hug, most likely because such "overly emotional" displays are discouraged in the Agreste household. This is the first occasion of Adrien projecting his father's supposed reaction to a thing he does on Ladybug, so he runs away from her.

In 'Simon Says', Cat Noir clings to Ladybug when faced with Gabriel looking at him weirdly (he's trying to figure out if he's Adrien, but Adrien himself never realizes his father was suspicious of his identity). At this point, Ladybug has started to become something of a security symbol to Adrien specifically against his father.

'Reflekta' is the episode where Cat Noir reminds Ladybug that he doesn't just deliver quips and he is actually a hero in his own right, even with diminished capabilities, in response to Marinette almost leaving him behind because he couldn't use his Cat Noir powers, because he'd "just slow (her) down", and then it turns out she couldn't have won without him. However, with the scene of Cat Noir taking the hit, Ladybug also starts on the process of realizing exactly how important her partner is to her success. Noticeably, it's while they're plotting together that Ladybug responds to his flirtation by flirting back, even if not very well (protip, Marinette, demeaning someone isn't funny to anyone but the person doing the demeaning, the other person is not suddenly lacking a sense of humor). Cat Noir is also a bit softer with his overtures in this episode, his cheeky flirtation gaining a bit more intimacy.

In 'Antibug', we can see the lessons Ladybug learned in 'Reflekta' sticking, with Ladybug listening to and valuing Cat Noir's input, unlike how the last time he tried to give her advice in a Chloé situation in 'Evillustrator', when she acknowledged he was right but couldn't bring herself to follow his advice. She also flirts with Cat Noir of her own volition, when she rings his bell. Cat Noir also keeps showing genuine warmth towards Ladybug instead of being just cheeky, when Ladybug compliments him. They affirm their bond after taking down Antibug.

The events of 'Reflekta' and 'Antibug' together influence what happens in 'Volpina', where Marinette is very suspicious of a new superhero showing up, without ever suspecting she could have been an Akuma in disguise. Cat Noir is her partner, and Cat Noir is her only partner. She’s not only learned his value, but has grown possessive over him. There's no need for any outsider. This jealousy over Cat Noir is actually something Marinette doesn't get over during the first three seasons the way she learns to deal with her jealousy over Adrien.

By the time 'The Collector' happens, Adrien has developed enough trust in his partner to ultimately believe her over her suspicions about Gabriel being Hawk Moth. This episode also has the first time Marinette voices concern over Cat Noir's emotional well-being instead of merely physical, who, of course, can't tell her what's wrong because it would break the secret identity clause.

'Prime Queen' has some very nice mutual Ladynoir flirting at the start of the interview. However, they're both mortified when Nadja comes out with the pictures. Cat Noir is confused, because he had no idea that their relationship could even give that impression, he must have been feeling like he hasn't been making much progress in getting closer to Ladybug. Meanwhile, Marinette goes defensive for the first time since 'Lady Wifi' only, this time, even more so. She even runs out on Cat Noir when he, very understandably, wants an explanation why he head to learn from a reporter that she'd planted one on him instead of from her. The episode confirms that Marinette will refuse to, in any way, discuss anything romance-related in relation to Cat Noir, even when there's an innocent explanation, like breaking an Akuma's spell. She's so defensive it's suspicious.

We also have another occasion of Marinette "pretending" to be in love with Cat Noir to solve a problem. While Cat Noir purrs either over the confession, having her close, or both. Marinette also jumped at the chance to "pretend" to confess her love so eagerly, that it left Prime Queen unimpressed. Still, Marinette refused to commit to the "ruse" enough to kiss Cat Noir while he's actually conscious and aware of it, because then she'd have to deal with the aftermath of kissing him.

'Dark Owl' has the first true test of faith between Ladybug and Cat Noir, when both of them have to trust the other not to look while they have to recharge. Although, considering 'The Collector', this is actually the first test only for Ladybug. At the end of the episode, Adrien also genuinely asks Ladybug out on a date for the very first time when they unexpectedly have free time from Owl-sitting, but Marinette preferred to skip off to spend time with Alya since she hadn’t gotten to see her while being so busy with The Owl's antics for so long.

'Glaciator' has Cat Noir planning an actual outing for Ladybug. The thing is, before 'Glaciator', Marinette's response to Cat Noir asking her out has always been that she has other plans, no can do. However, in 'Glaciator', she specifically says: "We'll see," and then she ends up ghosting him because she forgot to even send him a message that she didn't feel like going anywhere. At the same time, Gabriel purposefully stands him up for dinner, causing Adrien to project onto the Ladybug situation so hard that he doesn't think Ladybug even sees him as a real friend. Considering Adrien was under the same impression about Marinette in 'Puppeteer 2', it is typical for Marinette to send these kinds of mixed signals (which is fitting, considering how clear communication seems to be the biggest bullet point in her character development agenda).

On the upside, Cat Noir's compromised emotional state led to him being more frank about his feelings to first Marinette and later to Ladybug, finally making Marinette understand that Cat Noir is actually in love with her and how sensitive her partner can really be and that she can hurt his feelings. Notably, in this episode, Marinette particularly enjoys employing her "Pretend to be in love with Cat Noir" gambit, this time even going as far as kissing him, after finding out he's actually in love with her. Indeed, at the end of the episode, her rejection to Cat Noir is entirely focused on her having feelings for someone else (as well). She never once said she doesn't love him, and, in fact, never claims so in the English dub.

In 'Sapotis' we also see a brief glimpse of Marinette's jealousy over Cat Noir when he welcomes Alya onto the team so warmly but, because Rena Rouge was a teammate Marinette herself chose and trusts, she doesn't feel threatened enough to express it more than by merely keeping an eye on their interaction. 'Sapotis' also starts the arc of Cat Noir starting to lose faith in Ladybug having his best interest in mind when Rena Rouge appears out of nowhere and he's expected to just accept that no-questions-asked.

'Gorizilla' notably has Marinette repeatedly voicing her belief that Cat Noir will show up, something Adrien appreciates a great deal, going as far as blushing over something so simple. He's astounded by the fact that his Lady has faith in him, but it seems he still believes it despite the notion being strange to him.

'Frightningale' really drives home the arc going on in this season. 'Riposte' was the first time we saw Ladybug and Cat Noir seamlessly working together to neutralize an Akuma, but in this episode, they move in perfect synch while fighting Frightningale while handcuffed together. Cat Noir and Ladybug's teamwork has reached phenomenal levels.

I've repeatedly said that 'Syren' is less about Cat Noir and Ladybug's relationship and more about Fu's relationships with his two chosen. Still, this is the episode where Marinette gets put on the spot and comes through for her partner and Cat Noir learns that Ladybug keeping secrets from him wasn't of her own volition, but because of Fu, restoring his faith in her completely.

It's most likely because of the trust Ladybug showed towards him in 'Gorizilla' and their perfectly synchronized teamwork in 'Frightningale' that Cat Noir tries to confess to Ladybug again in 'Frozer'. These two episodes could give Cat Noir hope that he might be winning Ladybug over, especially since, as I said before, Ladybug has not said she doesn't have feelings for him. But she, of course, rejects him, although it's notably with more wistfulness than the last time, especially when she comments how she doesn't think it's possible for the "other boy" to not be a concern. 'Frozer' takes place during the arc in season two that covers Marinette's growing frustration at her inability to progress with Adrien the way she wants to and the discontent shows in her interaction with Cat Noir as well.

The change in how Marinette regards Cat Noir's input in fights between season one and two is especially noticeable in 'Style Queen' and 'Maledictator'. Both times Cat Noir is absent in a fight and this influences how Marinette approaches fighting the Akumas. In 'Style Queen' Marinette tries to play it sneaky but also needs to be saved by Plagg's intervention in his holder's absence. In 'Maledictator', Marinette's plan involved siccing the brainwashed Cat Noir on the Akuma's goons. Cat Noir has become necessary to Marinette, which is why he's able to galvanize her during 'Heroes' Day' by reminding her that the two of them against the world is what's always worked.

Season three as a whole revolves around Adrien losing faith that Ladybug could ever return his feelings the way he wishes and Marinette getting several warning signs about how she could lose Cat Noir. I might even go as far as saying that this season has negative Ladynoir development (in that their relationship grows more frayed and brittle instead of stronger).

A big reason for this new development direction is 'Reflekdoll', which, according to the production codes, happens early in the season. In this episode, Ladybug and Cat Noir learn the worst possible (false) lessons about themselves and each other and they carry those lessons for the rest of the season. In my 'Reflekdoll' conflict analysis, I wrote that Ladybug basically "learns" that Cat Noir is fae-like in that he isn't bothered by mortal things like stress or heartbreak. Cat Noir, meanwhile, "learns" that, while it doesn't matter if Ladybug makes a mistake because she can always fix it, him making a mistake makes him fundamentally less worthy as a hero and a person, so he could never be as valuable as Ladybug even as a person and not only strategically.

'Weredad', meanwhile, is the quintessential evidence episode for Marinette being both possessive and in denial about Cat Noir. She's literally pretending to be in love with him to him, while totally denying to herself that she feels anything for him, all the while she's feeling jealous over him seemingly moving on from her to be in love with her. The reason it's so important that no one but Marinette herself and Tikki know what went down in this episode is that Marinette's denial would never last if someone actually questioned this whole mess.

This is also an episode where we can clearly see the aftermath of what 'Reflekdoll' did to Cat Noir. He's once again projecting his situation with his father onto someone else (this time Tom), but he's also blatantly refusing to fight Tom at full strength, because he feels that it's his fault he got Akumatized, allowing himself to get hurt severely because he feels he's not that important, that he might even deserve it.

'Oblivio' has Ladybug once again do the whole: "How dare you say I'm in love with Cat Noir I am quitting this conversation right now!" routine. Cat Noir also got actual confirmation that something about him made his Lady want to kiss him when their memories had been wiped.

'Desperada' has the semi-infamous scene of Ladybug saying she doesn't need Cat Noir and, while she learns the valuable lesson that yes she flipping does, this is also the episode where Adrien repeatedly fails to use the Snake Miraculous correctly, having to give it up to someone else, feeling like an undeserving failure *turns to look at 'Weredad' and then at ‘Reflekdoll*.

'Kwamibuster' is an episode where everyone keeps telling Ladybug not to trust Cat Noir and she believes it to the degree that she sees him as a bigger threat than a Kwami-targeting Akuma. In other words, Cat Noir being treated like a part-time hero again in season four is because of 'Kwamibuster'.

'Gamer 2.0' is actually an important episode for the Ladynoir dynamic. This is the episode where Marinette takes on way too much responsibility (voluntarily) and is really stressed about it, while Cat Noir dismantles that stress with his good humor and positive outlook. This episode enforces the lesson that was stated outright in 'Reflekdoll': "Everyone has their role", and Cat Noir's role is to be the jokester who makes Ladybug feel better. Also, Cat Noir doesn’t even hesitate to make a sacrifice play for his Lady, because he’s less important.

'Timetagger' foreshadows that Marinette's words of affirmation are losing their effect. She repeatedly says things like "I trust Cat Noir", "You're irreplaceable", "You know you're the best", but she doesn't know how to express her regard to Cat Noir in actions. And it's important to note that Adrien was raised among liars and manipulators. Even if he doesn't doubt Ladybug's intentions, he might doubt the depth and truth of her feelings for him. Because Ladybug is so nice, she might lie about valuing him to make him feel better. Words aren't enough when words are the only thing between you and your insecurities. This is also an episode that feeds into Cat Noir's worthlessness arc, with Bunnyx repeatedly insisting that Ladybug in the future is just awesome, while Cat Noir broke her Miraculous. Even Ladybug shoots him down at the end of the episode when he tries to ask for extra affirmation, claiming he "already knows he's great".

In 'Puppeteer 2', Cat Noir's hope from 'Oblivio' that Ladybug might be starting to be won over by him comes back to bite him when the wax Ladybug gets close to him by pretending to be coming onto him. He only realized she was a fake because she smelled wrong, something that comes back to haunt him in 'Ladybug', when he's faced with a perfect copy, whose only difference to the original is that she's apparently in love with him. The villains clearly know he’s so in love with Ladybug it sometimes blinds him.

With the villains using this clear weakness as an in, it's no wonder that Cat Noir finally makes the decision to move on from Ladybug in 'Heart Hunter'. He tries one more time to test her interest to see if she'd be jealous of him dating and, when she's merely overjoyed, he decides to finally move on to Kagami. However, when faced with the actual reality of Cat Noir giving his attention to someone else instead of her (instead of in addition to her), Ladybug actually finds herself hurt and questions the lack of "My Lady" in Cat Noir addressing her, but she instantly denies it when Cat Noir notices. Denial denial denial...

Aaaaaand that's a wrap! Putting this together made me realize just how interconnected the show really is but no one notices because there aren’t any secret identities being revealed, people getting together or lore being revealed. Even something that seems like a breather episode like 'Gamer 2.0' has a larger role in the arc of developing the relationship between our main heroes.

#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #lovesquare #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml meta #long post #REALLY long

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

#bnha 314 #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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brocflowers · 3 years

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Sang so loud, sang so clear.

Weak and tired, his sister’s slowly fading life in his hands, Adrian makes a choice.

word count: 4797.

Tags: blood magic, liberties taken with spirit healer lore, everybody lives/nobody dies, (this is not necessarily a kindness), familial dysfunction, warnings obviously for blood, self-injury, and what I'm going to call "mild gore" just to be very, very safe.

Title from Bird Song by Florence + the Machine.

[AO3]

“Wait.”

“Seeker, if you keep stopping me while I’m talking we’re going to be here all day-”

“What does Bethany’s recovery have to do with the fact that Hawke was arguing with his mother?” she asks, ignoring him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did,” Maker, she wants to hurt him, “you said “of course, Leandra was still uneasy with him after what happened with Bethany back in Ferelden”. Why would Hawke saving his sister’s life make his mother uneasy?”

Varric’s jaw flexes. It’s subtle, barely perceptible, she almost misses it.

It was a slip of the tongue, that much is obvious. But it was not something untrue, spoken in error, it was something honest that he had not meant to say. And it clearly is not an issue of protecting Hawke’s privacy. Between the book and what he’s already told her, it’s clear that the man’s personal business is not something Varric is particularly shy about revealing.

No, he’s hiding something, actively. And it’s something much more than the details of a simple interpersonal squabble between a mother and her son. Cassandra fully intends to find out exactly what that something is.

Varric taps his fingers against the tabletop once, twice. He’s watching her closely, weighing his options. After a moment, he sighs, and Cassandra thinks she sees hesitance in his eyes for a moment before he slips back into his usual expression, a calculated smile, easy and roguish, unreadable. The transition is unnervingly smooth.

“You want to know? Because I’ll tell you if you really want to know.”

“I told you, I want to know everything.”

“Well then,” he says, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, “we’re going to have to go back a little, all the way to Lothering.”

“I’m listening.”

She must sound too interested, because suddenly Varric looks too confident. He’s made a decision of some sort, one that Cassandra doesn’t believe she’ll be able to understand until she hears what he has to tell her.

“Alright,” he says, leaning forward to put his elbows on the table between them, “so Bethany is with her mother, and the ogre is coming-”

“And she rushed out,” Cassandra says, remembering this part of the retelling very clearly, “to protect Leandra.”

“Right. She rushed out to meet it, and it grabbed her right around the middle, lifted her high above its head before-”

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

Bethany’s body crunches when it hits the ground, and the sound is so loud, so sick and awful that it takes everything in Adrian not to just lean over and vomit when he hears it. The ogre releases her, leaving her limp on the ground, bloodied. The sight of it makes everything slow down, his hands go numb and he feels dizzy, as if he might faint.

Adrian has seen some horrible injuries in his life. Mortal wounds, festering flesh. He’s even seen violence, the broken bones and bruised, torn, bloody skin that it leaves behind. None of it has ever made him feel like this. Distantly, he wonders if this actually is the worst thing he’s ever seen, or if it just feels different because it’s his sister he’s watching it happen to.

Your sister, he thinks, charging towards the ogre with Carver and Aveline more on instinct than anything else. Your sister, Adrian. Your baby sister. What are you going to do now? You promised. You promised your dad you wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Adrian that’s your sister that’s Bethany your baby sister Bethany your-

His body is choosing how to move with no direction from his mind, taking cues from the other bodies around it while his thoughts remain static, locked in on one subject, a simple repeating refrain. He thinks that he might not have moved towards the ogre at all had he not seen the two warriors do so first. Might have just stood there utterly still, staring.

Fire and lightning leave his hands at intervals. He doesn’t feel them. He can’t. When he sees the magic collide with the ogre’s body, it doesn’t mean anything.

The thing falls quickly. Or at least it feels that way to him, simultaneously a few seconds and a lifetime. Carver has barely managed to pull his sword from its body when Adrian’s head starts working again, the fog finally clearing and letting him think well enough to choose how to move, and rushes immediately to Bethany’s side. Hopes that he isn’t too late.

Their mother is there already, but Adrian can barely see her, can’t comprehend her presence. He kneels at Bethany’s opposite side, sharp stones digging into his knees as he fumbles around for a pulse. He doesn’t feel one. He tells himself that it’s because he’s tired, because his hands are shaking. He tries again, fingers pressing to a different spot on her neck. The feeling of her limp muscles and unmoving body under his hands makes him feel sick all over again, but he pushes it down.

Nothing, still nothing. He tells himself that that can’t be right, that it’s there, that she has a pulse. That she must, that she has to. He’s just having a hard time finding it over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, the sound of the horde in the distance, his mother shouting at him.

“This is your fault,” she says, tears streaming down her face, and he flinches. He can’t help it. “How could you let her run off like that? You were supposed to be protecting her, how could you-”

“Shut up.” He says, giving up on finding Bethany’s pulse point and shifting around so he can press his ear against her chest, try to find a heartbeat that way, “shut up, I can’t hear.”

It’s harsher than he meant to be, but he can’t really find it in himself to care. His mother ignores the request, continues to sob and shout at him. He really wishes she wouldn’t. Nothing she’s saying is false, but none of it is useful. It is his fault, he did fail her, but he doesn’t need his mother to tell him that. He’s said it to himself enough times already.

Adrian closes his eyes, tunes her out as best he can so that he can listen. He wonders if he should pray. You’re supposed to pray when you want something very badly and know it’s not likely at all that you’ll get it, right? And he wants his sister to be alive so very very badly.

He swallows, tries not to think about how unlikely it is. About the fact that he heard her bones break inside of her, saw her body hit the ground like wet blankets, no tension in any of her muscles. He just needs something, anything. A faint murmur that will let him justify using the last of his mana on trying to revive her. Anything, anything, anything at a-

There.

“What?” Leandra asks, her litany of accusations stopping dead at exactly the moment his eyes fly open, “What is it? Did you-”

“Move,” he says, scrambling back up onto his knees, pulling mana out of his center and into his hands, “you can’t help, I need you to leave.”

“Adrian if you don’t tell me what’s happening-”

Patience thin, he ignores her entirely and instead turns to Aveline, hovering uncertainly nearby.

“Get her out of here.”

Aveline responds to the order immediately, hurrying over to help Leandra up and guide her away. It’s far more gentle than he would’ve been, and much more understanding. As unhappy as he is that Aveline and Ser Wesley are here at all, he is thankful that there’s someone here that isn’t family. Someone that doesn’t have to feel the weight of all their history coming together with the tragedy before them and help in a way only outsiders can, give his mother patience when all he can feel is anger and frustration.

“And get Carver,” he calls after them, casting magic deep into Bethany’s body. Not to heal, not quite yet, but just to get a look around. See where the damage is worst so that he can focus his untrained, low mana healing spells starting where they’re most necessary.

His heart sinks once he gets a feel for what’s inside of her, bile threatening at his throat again. It’s so much worse than he imagined, and he can’t believe she’s still breathing, even as faint as those breaths are. It reminds him of the Smith’s old, rotted barn after the storm hit it. Nothing to salvage but the strongest of the supports, and even those battered and weak. It makes him feel frantic, and pushing that emotion down in order to stay calm enough to start healing her is one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

He starts with the bleeding inside first, because he knows that’s what kills you the fastest. She’s bleeding outside as well though, and it worries him. He really isn’t sure how much he can actually get done before his energy runs out, he doesn’t think he has enough to put everything back together and muster up the pulse necessary to get her heart going again if it stops. And he definitely doesn’t have enough mana to numb the pain while he does all that. Adrian swallows. He might use up all his mana and it might not be enough. Worse, it might hurt the whole time he fails to save her. His sister’s final moments might be agony and it will all be his fault.

You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t try, he tells himself. It feels like such a weak argument, hollow as it echoes around in his head.

Carver kneels in the space Leandra vacated, sword sheathed. His front is covered in purple-black darkspawn viscera, he looks tired and tense, ragged.

“How can I help?”

Adrian sighs in relief. He at least sounds even and collected, far more put together than Adrian feels. He’s thankful for it.

“She’s bleeding.”

It’s not really instructions. It’s half a thought, poorly communicated, but he can’t manage anything else over his forced sense of calm and the focus he has to put on the damage before him. Damage that’s far beyond his skill level of repair.

Carver seems to understand what he means though. There’s a bone-deep fear in his eyes when he looks down at their sister’s body, but it doesn’t affect the way he acts, the way he moves. He presses his hands to the wound in Bethany’s side and he does it without flinching, without hesitation.

Adrian is so, so proud.

“How bad is it?” Carver asks, voice quiet in a way that Adrian has never heard it before.

He doesn’t reply.

Flesh knits back together with his coaxing, internal wounds sealing up, a miracle not possible without magic, but as he feared, it isn’t going to be enough. There’s precious little mana left in his body, and still so much left to fix. He still hasn’t stopped her external bleeding, hasn’t mended any of her bones and, oh Maker, her heart is slowing. He’ll need to restart it, but after that he’ll be out of mana entirely, he’ll have to start tapping into his own life force to keep going. It’s a dangerous thing to do. It’ll definitely hurt him. It possibly might even kill him.

Adrian feels like he could cry. He wishes they hadn’t already used the two small bottles of lyrium their father left behind when he died. He wishes Bethany was awake so that she could at least try to help him help her, or at least so that he could apologize. He wishes Malcolm hadn’t given up on teaching him how to heal, how to summon. A spirit healer could do all that was needed and more but he isn’t- he was never- Father never could teach him how to-

“You need to stop,” Carver says, and he sounds so worried that Adrian knows that his exhaustion is visible, that it’s clear how much he’s pushing himself, “Adrian you’re- you’re going to hurt yourself, don’t-”

“It’s just a little more,” he says, “If I can just get her conscious then-”

“Adrian.”

Adrian meets his eyes. He feels frantic and desperate, and he almost certainly looks it, but Carver looks oddly calm, his gaze sharp and serious. At the end of the week he’ll be nineteen years and six months old exactly, but looking at him right now you’d never guess it. He looks aged, tired and resigned in the way that only old men get, and it makes Adrian’s chest hurt. He didn’t look that way before Ostagar, he was still a kid.

“I can’t carry you both,” he says, so matter of fact and so breathtakingly sad that he can barely stomach it.

Adrian understands what he means, and unfortunately, he knows that he’s right. He’s weak, right on the verge of tapping into something deeper than mana to keep going. If he continues like this the best-case scenario still involves him nearly killing himself, and their little group can’t handle two half-dead mages and getting away from the horde alive all at once. And that’s if he even makes it. More likely is he’ll pour so much into healing her that he dies in the process. Which would be worth it if she lives, he thinks, but there’s no guarantee of that. He might just leave them both dead.

But if he stops… if he stops she'll die for sure. He'll be letting her die, making the choice that does it. It will always feel like he chose his life over hers. Like he killed her.

The whole thing just makes him want to scream. He has to choose. He doesn’t want to choose. It’s not fair, none of it’s fair. He doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Bethany to die and he doesn’t want to choose. He wouldn’t even have to choose if he was just a little stronger, if he just had a little more energy, a little more-

(A familiar tickling in the back of his skull. A creeping little almost-voice that says, you could have more. I could give you more.)

(His father always told him he shouldn’t listen, that he should ignore the voices that come to him when he’s dreaming, that he should send them away, fight them off if he needed to. But Adrian was young and rebellious and never good at doing what he was told. He figured that as long as he never actually did it, it wouldn’t really matter if he let the voices teach him how.)

Weak and tired, his sister’s slowly fading life in his hands, Adrian makes a choice.

“Give me her knife.”

“Why?”

“Carver.”

His brother frowns, pulls the knife out of her belt, passes it to him handle-first. There’s a grimness in his eyes as Adrian takes it with his free hand, the other remaining pressed palm-first in the center of Bethany’s chest. He’s pretty sure he knows what Carver thinks he’s about to do, and wonders if when he sees what’s actually about to happen he’ll be relieved or horrified.

Adrian doesn’t give himself any more time to think. He flips his grip on the knife and digs it into his other arm, opening a wide diagonal wound underneath his elbow.

“Adrian, what-”

Horrified it is then, he thinks, tossing the knife aside. He supposes it also could have been that his brother was just startled, but Adrian doesn’t really have it in him to interpret that generously, at the moment. If his brother is horrified, Adrian doesn’t blame him.

He stacks his free hand over the one against her chest, straightens his shoulders. Blood pours in streams down his arm, pools in between his interlaced fingers, seeps into Bethany’s already stained shirt. He closes his eyes. Malcolm tried to teach him spirit healing when he was younger, and gave up when it became clear that Adrian would never be able to summon easily on his own, that despite the vividness of his dreams he just wasn’t built for it. But before that he would practice with weaker spirits that his father would call for him, and he still remembers all the steps.

Adrian exhales, imagines himself hollow and empty, a place behind his sternum that he silently gives permission to be filled. The spirit has to enter you to help. You have to let it. As much as the Chantry and the Circles would like to deny it, it is a form of possession. Albeit an incomplete and very temporary one.

(Maker, he hopes what’s about to happen is temporary. He isn’t Harrowed, he has no way of knowing.)

The wound on his arm pulses sickeningly, and the rivulets of blood trailing down his arm start to feel both hot and cool at once, like lyrium when it goes down your throat. There’s an iron smell in the air suddenly, like wet rust, like monthly blood.

Something slips in, fills his chest and arms, all the way down to his fingers. Adrian shivers. It feels nothing like any of his father’s spirits. It’s foreign to him, terrifying and strange.

He can feel that his natural mana is still exhausted, but now there’s this new well of energy for him to tap into, and even just lightly poking at it he can tell that it is deep. It feels like something pulled straight from the Fade, like having one foot in the waking world and one in a dream. What the spirit, the demon, is providing for him is far beyond anything he’s ever experienced before, the magic potential of it stronger than anything he ever thought he’d have access to, and the excitement he feels at that realization scares him.

(He understands the temptation now. Feels the pull, a tugging in his stomach like looking over the edge of a cliff. The doors this opens, the things he could do with magic like this… it’s seductive. And he understands, better than ever, why his father was so scared of it, the paranoia that led him to instruct his children against asking questions, against even thinking about it. Against even saying its name.)

The demon tells him what to do. Whispers instructions to him in something that isn’t really a voice, it’s impressions and colors, knowledge without form. If you asked him to, he probably couldn’t translate it into words. He simply Knows what it is he has to do next, and he knows that that knowledge isn’t coming from his own head.

Adrian breaks the old healing spell, casts a new one. It’s strong, and he directs the magic out of himself and through Bethany with ease, bypassing her natural resistance entirely, like it’s not even there. He’s never been able to do that before, usually his magic “catches” in the body’s defenses, and he has to delay healing while he works around them, convinces the flesh to let his magic in. But this flows easily, like water over rocks. It’s a spell his father would have been proud of him for, in another context.

Her external wounds start to close, and he can feel the flesh inside of her start to knit as well. There’s enough energy running through him that he can heal her everywhere at once, instead of focusing on one injury at a time, and pretty soon he feels her broken bones start to shift and move underneath her flesh. Slowly at first, and then-

All of her misaligned bones snap into place at once with a sound like a tree right before it falls, the jagged edges then clicking and grinding against each other as they settle into position before beginning to mend. Bethany’s eyes snap open, and with a sick feeling settling in his stomach Adrian realizes that in his desperation, there’s something he forgot to do.

Her back arches. She screams.

“Shit,” he says, quickly trying to readjust his dislodged hands, “Beth, I’m-” she writhes, knocking his hands off of her again, “-shit, fuck, Carver-”

He’s already moving, leaning in to hold her down by her shoulders. He looks overwhelmed and desperate, hands straining as he tries to keep her still.

“Beth- Bethany it’s okay, it’s okay-” She kicks out with her legs, and Carver throws one of his out over them in an attempt at further restricting her movement, “easy, easy. Be- calm down. Adrian has you, it’s going to be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s awkward to get his hands repositioned properly with Carver most of the way over her, but he manages it. Casts a numbing spell as quickly as he’s capable of.

He was always good at numbing spells, despite otherwise lacking in related magics, and the effect is immediate. Her face goes from tight to soft within seconds, movements easing until she is finally still, her breathing regular, even, conscious.

Carver releases her slowly, then turns to him.

“She is, isn’t she? She’s going to be okay?”

His voice still sounds oddly small, scared and relieved in equal measure. Adrian sends another curl of magic out of his fingers to check her internal injuries, then nods. Tentatively.

She’s going to be okay.

He hears his mother say something, and Carver answers her, but he isn’t paying enough attention to make out any individual words. He closes the wound on his arm, but it doesn’t heal all the way. A thick pink band of new scarring remains, jagged from the haste with which he made the cut, the awkward angle at which he held the blade.

He breaks the spell he’s using on Bethany, aware of her eyes on him the whole time, and as the last tendrils of magic dissipate the demon leaves him. He doesn’t notice at first, doesn’t feel it as it leaves, just feels very empty all of the sudden. Light, as if someone reached inside of him and removed a big lump of lead that was wedged in with his organs. He can’t believe it was that easy. That it just left, didn’t fight to stay, didn’t linger. That’s not how demons are supposed to act at all, and it makes him worry that there’s some other consequence coming, something he couldn’t have predicted.

(Deeper down, he worries that there will be no consequences at all. That maybe everything he’s been told is a lie. That maybe there really isn’t anything to stop him from doing it again.)

(He won’t do it again, he tells himself. He won’t, he won’t.)

He leans back, starts to pull away when Bethany’s hand shoots up, wraps around his bicep in a death grip. He starts, then looks down at her. Their eyes meet, and hers are very serious, very scared.

“What did you do?” she asks, voice rough and raw. She squeezes his arm tighter, and it almost hurts, “Adrian, what did you do?”

It’s not actually a question. She knows what he did, she just doesn’t want it to be true. She wants him to tell her that it’s not true, that she’s mistaken. He can’t.

The seriousness of what’s happened hits him suddenly, sinks to the bottom of his stomach like a rock. He cut himself, summoned a demon, cast spells with its help. Even worse, he did it somewhere he could be seen. He looks up at Carver and swallows, throat clicking and dry.

“Did the templar see?”

Carver’s eyes flick up over Adrian’s shoulder, then back to him. He shakes his head.

“What about the wife?”

“I don’t think so,” Carver says, quietly. Not whispering, whispering draws attention, just his normal voice, low and even, “she’s with mother, your back is blocking their view.”

He looks scared, they both do, and Adrian can’t fully tell whether they’re more scared of him, or for him. He can’t blame them for either.

“I didn’t see anything either,” Carver says, surprising him, “Beth, did you see something?”

Bethany turns her head, face tightening like she’s sore, and shares a look with Carver. It’s always been a joke in their family, the “twin thing”, their ability to talk without speaking, make decisions the rest of them aren’t allowed to know about. It feels nostalgic for a moment, like the three of them are kids again, and Adrian broke something and they’re all agreeing not to tell mother and father about it. That it’s going to be a secret, a sworn oath of silence kept between the three of them, something they’ll all laugh about being so serious over, once they’re all big.

Bethany nods, and Adrian is relieved, even though he can tell that this isn’t the end of it. They’ll want an explanation, there will be a talk, once they’re all safe.

“Can you stand?”

“Probably,” she shifts, grimaces, “maybe not on my own.”

“I’ll help her,” Carver says.

Adrian pushes himself up, a sudden dizzy spell hitting him once he’s on his feet, vision going briefly black at the edges. Maybe it’s stress, maybe it’s the blood loss, probably it’s a combination of the two. It’s not pleasant.

Bethany bites back a lot of pained noises as they help her to her feet, and Adrian thinks about all the kinds of injuries he doesn’t know enough about to heal properly. Delicate nerves, crush injuries, how soft tissue can hurt for years after the initial trauma, how easy it is to misalign bones when you’re in a hurry. The blood magic just gave him more raw energy to tap into, the demon a little bit of a guiding hand, he’s still held back by his own lack of skill and training. She’ll need to see a real healer, eventually. Hopefully they can find one in Gwaren.

If they make it that far, he thinks, hearing the darkspawn roar and realizing that the sound isn’t as distant as he hoped.

Once they have Bethany settled, one arm around Carver’s neck and his hooked under her armpits, taking most of her weight, Adrian turns to survey their surroundings.

Aveline and Ser Wesley are not immediately visible, which he can’t help but find mildly concerning. Mother stands a few feet away, hands covering her mouth as she watches Bethany. He can tell that she’s holding herself back from running over and fussing over her, pulling Bethany into her arms. Her expression is full of shock and relief, love for her daughter who was three-quarters dead just a few moments ago. Who is pale and weak now, but nonetheless alive.

Then her gaze lands on Adrian, and everything changes.

She knows. Leandra’s hands drop from her face a little, and Adrian’s stomach drops with them. He doesn’t understand how she could know. There’s no way she saw him cut himself. Bethany was bleeding, so it’s not unusual that he has blood on him, But nonetheless she knows. He can see it on her face, can feel the air go cold between them as they look at each other.

“Adrian-”

She doesn’t finish. Aveline swears loudly, and all heads turn immediately towards the sound.

They stayed still for too long. The darkspawn have found them, and Adrian swears too as he watches their mangled forms come over the ridge towards them. It’s more than they can handle. Even if everyone was in top shape, he can only imagine them winning against this group by a slim margin. And they are far from being in top shape.

The ground shakes beneath them, and Adrian has just started to prepare himself for another ogre when-

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

“-when the dragon swoops low overhead, its roar splitting their ears and the skies alike. Etcetera, etcetera,” Varric says, making a circular gesture with his hand, “darkspawn defeated, the dragon transforms into a witch, you remember this part.”

Cassandra looks at him blankly. The way he tells it is so casual, nonchalant. As if this is a story about Hawke getting lost on the way to the market, and not revealing to her the moment that the Champion of Kirkwall became a maleficar.

(And to save his sister’s life, risking death or possession to fulfill a promise made to his father for her safety… if she was asked, she would admit that it’s the closest thing she’s ever heard to a good enough reason. If it weren’t unforgivable, she’d be tempted to even call it noble.)

They watch each other silently for a moment, waiting to see who speaks first. She thinks she sees doubt in Varric’s eyes for a moment, maybe even regret. Why tell me then, she wonders, why tell me, why not just lie a second time?

“That all you needed to hear, seeker?”

Cassandra doesn’t know what to say.

#only three days past the self imposed deadline! yay.#dragon age fanfiction #adrian hawke #bird song #fic

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matt0044 · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a good protagonist actually. Great even. Fight me.

I’ve seen some hot takes on Miraculous in terms of who of the two heroes should actually take center stage, often siding with Adrien. Naturally most are on YouTube that never leave my feed.

I mean, why not right? He’s the more troubled one with his sheltered upbringing and estranged relationship with his father. Said father turns out to be the primary antagonist of the series with the kid’s mother being the catalyst (not the Akuma) for the overarching plot. Plus, Plagg plays off him perfectly.

What does Marinette have? A mad crush? Klutzy moments passed down by Usagi Tsukino herself? She’s got a healthy relationship with her family and Kwami so where’s the narrative tension?

As far as Season One goes, we get basic superhero shenanigans with her often trying to avoid being exposed but there is some subtle growth to her.

In “Origins,” we see Marinette not as Ladybug when first facing Stoneheart but as Marinete in a red suit with black spot. All the while, Adrien has embraced his Chat Noir persona fully with flirt to spare.

As she tells her partner, she’s “super clumsy.”

Marinette prods herself into the superhero role more than she takes charge, repeating tells herself to trust herself. Of course, she proves to be a natural with her Lucky Charm and MacGuyvering skills to help recover Ivan quickly.

Yet when she seems to come out on top and growing into her own superhero persona up, her oversight in not purifying the Akuma rears its ugly head. Suddenly, her self-doubts pulls her back and make her renounce Tikki.

Come Part 2, Marinete find Alya in imminent danger and decides that she can’t not be a hero anymore. This is symbolized in the proper debut of her full transformation sequence compared to her first one that was totally rushed.

This time she is Ladybug, crafting a new identity that’s far more empowered than the normal girl with a normal life she usually is. She throws Hawk Moth’s declaration of war back in his face of butterflies, purifying them all at once. To top it off, she performs her very first Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage.

Ladybug was born at last while Adrien took to being Chat Noir like Plagg to cheese.

However, we still get subtle moments of Ladybug’s Marinette poking out such as in “The Bubbler” where she has a Lucky Charm used more selfishly. However, she’s quick to regret the waste of power more than others might’ve. It’s actually clear why Marinette was never seen as Ladybug’s true identity with how un-Marinette Ladybug is.

I could go on but I’d largely be repeating points I made in my previous post on Miraculous’s episodic story structure being a feature and less a flaw. I will say that throughout Season One, both Marinette and Adrien don’t have a Zordon-like figure to answer to. They don’t have somebody to prompt them into fighting villains. Similar to Code Lyoko, these kids just choose to save the world.

This is important because it is what Master Fu needed from those bearing the most powerful Miraculous from his Order. Those who do it not for the glory or on anybody’s orders but rather because they know its the right thing to do. He didn’t have them answer to him for any guidance or training (yet) but rather planted the seeds so they may cultivate themselves.

Thus by the end of Season One, Marinette was ready to meet the Guardian after proving herself more than worthy and commence her true character arc.

Throughout Season Two and Three, we see Marinette clearly being close with Master Fu. Close enough that when in “Sapotis,” she doesn’t need any of the Miraculous explained to her in the moment since he clearly gave a rundown on them in the event new heroes were needed. What he helped with here was her judgement in who could worthy of such great powers and which powers at that.

This further continues with how “Kwamibuster” shows her pulling over a gambit that relied heavily on her knowledge of each Miraculous, utilizing the Mouse’s completely out of the blue as if it were second nature. This not only helped secure her secret identity more but it demonstrated her potential as a Guardian to Master Fu. Thus helping to cement his decision in “Feast.”

It’s not immediately apparent since it can feel like the typical Mentor offer the token guidance but then we come to Miracle Queen. Pressed to protect the Miracle Box, Jade Turtle passed the title of Guardian to Ladybug. Not just because his options were limited but because he truly believes in her. His memory loss even falls under the “Mentor Death” trope to top it all off.

Normally, that’d cap off her Hero’s Journey but far from it.

Season Four has certainly delivered on this by having Ladybug truly feel the pressures of not only safeguarding one or two Miraculous but all of them from the more powerful Shadow Moth. “Truth” and “Gang of Secrets” are notable in how they show just how much of a toll this takes on her life as Marinette. And with Chat Noir feeling out of her loop, I’d say her troubles are just beginning.

That’s as spoiler-y as I’ll get. However, lest we forget how “Timetagger” showed that Ladybug would lead a team of superheroes well into adulthood.

Marinette isn’t just a good protagonist for Miraculous but a great one too. She starts out fairly “Vanilla” but that ice cream gets decorated into an ice cream sundae full of heart and charm. Would the show centering around Adrien be a good angle to approach it from too? Um... yeah, sure.

But it wouldn’t be the Miraculous that I continue to enjoy myself. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is why the show works more than it has any right to. Adrien’s role for this is honestly better reserved for the big WHAM moments within Marinette’s more down-to-Earth life (as heroes go).

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous chat noir #chat noir #rena rouge #carapace #miraculous marinette #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #adrien agreste #hawk moth #shadow moth #jeremy zag #thomas astruc #miraculous analysis #miraculous meta #meta

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mellow-honey · 3 years

Text

Idk how badly this might get taken out of context, but I really do think it would have been more impactful to Varric’s character arc if he had been atheist (I am not atheist, if that’s somehow relevant to this).

It makes sense for him to have an aversion for religion considering his brother gave him shit regarding his lack of connection to the Stone. Also the fact that one of the many reasons Kirkwall was a mess was because ‘officials’ would use Andrastian beliefs to both exploit and hurt people. Sidenote: I can’t remember if it’s canon or fanon where templars can kill a whole family if it’s suspected that they’re hiding a mage, so if there’s a link to that, please send.

Conversations regarding religion could have been an interesting perspective because he’s friends with vastly different people. He could have also highlighted how devotion can be a dangerous thing and even have that oddly serious conversation when arriving at Skyhold. “Look, I’ve seen dwarves abandon their families, Chantry sisters condemn others, and even experienced a Qunari invasion. All that done in the same of their great beliefs. This thing we got going on? A lot of people are giving their lives for this, so much that they called you Herald of Andraste. Let’s do some good with it.”

(this got way longer than I wanted it to)

Lavellan: Nothing on the Dalish?

Mid-High Approval Varric: I have no idea what they get up to. But you and Daisy are alright in my books.

Low Approval Varric: I have no idea what they get up to. The only one I’m fine with is Daisy, and she worries me.

With that being said, I could see how easy it would be for Varric to be inspired by Hawke and the inquisitor; both who more or less came from nothing. Actively seeing how their decisions made a huge impact would be part of the reason why he sticks around (regardless of the approval rating). If he, as a storyteller went, ‘I don’t believe in talking rocks, or this hidden figure beyond the Fade, if there is anything beyond that place. I believe in people, who are alive, and what they’re doing right now’.

So much of Inquisition was the inquisitor being raised to this powerful standard; it would have been nice if Varric was the character to bring it all down to each character just being an individual with their own choices. Varric joining the inquisition could have been such a turning point for his character arc, as it would have been the first time he’s fully committing to something larger than himself.

Highlighting the fact that Varric is a storyteller, everything that happened between da2 and dai can be explained, even if the answer is just science/magic. Between Corypheus, the Titan, entering the Fade, and so many impossible concepts that Thedas was facing, everything could have been explained and somewhat survivable or defeatable.

Furthermore, if you separate religion from faith… It ends up being just stories. Varric taking a liking to the story of Andraste is totally fine, and it [EDIT Dec.02.21] was a nice touch when he compares the truth of Fen’Harel with the starting of the Andrastian faith because he’s looking at it all as historical stories. General commentary from him about the Call of the Stone, the Titan, and even Hakkon, could have been… not profound, but a bit more objective, if he didn’t have a religious connection. The whole ‘this belief system is just weird’ feels more like Sera, and not something from a well accomplished author who can more or less make friends with people from different backgrounds.

#just rambling about what could have been #it's just a game but I love complex writing and Varric could have been more #dragon age #varric tethras #dai critical #dragon age inquisition

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bokutoslittlebird · 4 years

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Office Sex with Todoroki Enji

Boss!Enji x Secretary!Reader

Warnings: dub/noncon, blackmail, threats, Enji’s a creep, creampie, size kink, age difference, mindbreak

Summary: Being Endeavor’s secretary was a dream come true - you often found yourself dreaming about the hero when you were in high school. When Endeavor seems to be setting off red flags, you decide the job of your dreams isn’t what you expected. Too bad your boss has decided you’ll never be able to leave him - even if he has to break you.

When you signed up to work at Endeavor's agency, you didn't expect to be accepted. Your resume wasn't anything special, just some basic past experience as a secretary, so you figured your file would be burned to ashes. Getting the job was no longer just a dream to you. You've always looked up to Endeavor, seeing him as someone who really tried and struggled to become the number one hero. Your eyes had always been drawn to the scowl on the older man, never to the smile on All Might's face. Even thinking about Endeavor's eyes looking at you made your stomach fill with butterflies.

After emailing Endeavor's current secretary about the position, you closed your laptop and decided to get ready for bed, wanting to have a good first impression tomorrow morning.

You were switching your weight on your feet, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves. The button down shirt was simple and hopefully professional enough for Endeavor. There was a dress code for you as his secretary: black pencil skirt, white buttoned blouse, black heels, and pantyhose color of your choice. You chose the only pair you owned, a black pair. The makeup was minimal, practically non-existent. Your nerves made you feel sick, like any moment you would just have to bend over and hurl. It didn't help that Endeavor's blue eyes were burning into your form. For someone with a fire Quirk, he was quite a cold man.

"You seem to understand your job quite well," his voice finally broke the staring contest silence. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "Here's a stack of papers to go through. Cases I've been in, just organize them accordingly,"

"Yes, sir," you bowed, taking the papers. Apparently, he was in a lot of cases since the last secretary quit. She had to quit due to her husband getting a new job out of the prefecture. Instead of traveling for work, she put in a notice of termination and went looking for any available person with that credentials. As you walked to the door, you felt eyes on you and it just increased your nervousness, the idea of him watching you like a hawk making you feel like you'd make a mistake under his gaze.

Once the doors were shut, you felt better, the watchful gaze gone and the little room you would be at for most, if not all, of your time here. You smiled at the sidekicks who waved at you, welcoming you to the agency. Everyone was so friendly, you hoped Endeavor was just cold at first glance, but he'd warm up to you. Eventually.

The next few days were... interesting, to say the least. First, the day you started working, Endeavor called for you to ask your opinion on what he should get for his son's upcoming birthday. You were dumbfounded, but attempted to help him with the information given. The next day, Endeavor visited you at your office, leaning over your shoulder to make sure you were doing everything correctly. It was nerve-wracking to have such a big, imposing man leaning over your shoulder. The day after, you were scolded for your dress code. Apparently, the new dress code required you to wear stockings and to increase your two-inch heel size to four-inch. You were upset and confused at the new change, your feet much preferring the shorter heels and you had to buy garters to hold up the stockings.

The way Endeavor looked at you like a piece of meat made your skin crawl, the grin he gave you predatory. It made you scared to go into work - or at least interact with the hero. The sidekicks would glance at you, never saying much about your wardrobe change, but they noticed. Endeavor noticed them noticing. You felt like an attraction in a zoo at this point, everybody staring at you. The makeup also changed; now it was red lipstick, along with simple eyeshadow and noticeable eyeliner and mascara. You felt like you were going to a party every morning when you got ready for work.

Did it stop there? You hoped it would, but it didn't. Endeavor - he repeatedly told you to call him Enji - would stop by your office before and after a patrol, giving you papers if he stopped any crime. When he didn't have any papers, he would still stop by, bringing you a coffee he had ordered from that shop down the street you loved. When you asked about the coffee shop and how he knew your order, he said it was a lucky guess. You should've known something was off then, but you brushed it aside, smiling and thanking him, bowing respectfully. His gaze was trained on you the entire time.

Endeavor would also give you strange tasks. At first, you happily did them. Now, you still did them, but you wondered why. Why did he throw his pen across his room? Why did you have to go into his office to pick it up? Handing it to him and feeling his fingers gently brush against yours gave you goosebumps the first time, you going home and squealing about it like you were back in high school. When he did it now, you felt like you needed to wash your hands. Your admiration for the hero died when you felt like he was a predator. That's when you came to a decision.

"Termination?" His ice cold gaze fell on you. You hoped he couldn't tell your knees were ready to buckle due to nerves. Nodding, you explained.

"I have recently gotten scouted for a new job" a lie, "closer to my apartment complex" another lie, "so I figured I'd put in my notice of leave. It was great working with you" again, a lie, "and I hope you are able to find another secretary," bowing again, your eyes widened when you saw the angry scowl on Endeavor's face.

"I refuse," he spat, standing from his chair. You tried to talk, but he made you freeze all over, the icy gaze fully trained on you. "You think you can come into here and decide to leave me? I have half a mind to burn your skin,"

"Excuse me?!" a squeak came out, your blood running cold at his harsh words.

"You little tease," he sneered, closer to you now. Your body finally got the hint to move, your vision turning to the door, only to find the mahogany desk of Endeavor to fill it. You hissed in pain as the impact of the hard wood and your cheek connected. "Playing around with me only to bail?"

"Endeavor, sir!" you pleaded, struggling in his grip. The heat from his body was intense, the sunset dimming the room and you knew the only source of light was from the desk lamp beside you and the flaming man above you. One large hand held your wrists behind your back, while the other one settled on your hips, sending you into a panic.

"I told you to call me Enji, little one," is all he said, not answering any of the questions you had. You felt yourself freeze at the thought of what was to come - hoping some deity would pity you. "You aren't leaving me,"

"You can't do that! I have every right-!"

"You'll never find another place to work. Ever again."

"Wh-What?" tears slipped out of your eyes, pooling against the desk. "You can't-"

"A cheap whore who quits after her boss won't sleep with her, how about that?" You can practically feel the grin on his face. "You'll never find work again. Not anywhere in Japan if I have anything to say about it, that is,"

"You're fucking sick!" You started thrashing, trying to loosen his grip somehow. Whether your future careers were ruined or not, you didn't accept any of this. "Get off!"

"Look at you, dressing so prettily for me. You think my sidekicks haven't noticed? They'd believe me wholeheartedly. You're nothing," he sneered, making you stop. He was right, of course, the sidekicks noticed your change from when you started working. They wouldn't believe any words you said if their trusted and respected boss - a hero - said otherwise. Your previous life would crash and shatter within the night without any say. The only thing you could now was accept the turn of events. "It's okay, I'll make you my special whore and nobody will be hurt. I've seen the way you look at me. Clenching your thighs together, the downward glances when you talk to me, your cute habit of twiddling your fingers. You've been dying for me to eat you up, haven't you?"

"N-No.." your tiny voice spoke, all the fight gone from it. At first, you weren't too sure it was yours. You're not even sure Endeav- Enji heard it. You felt disgusted, especially when you felt the hand on your hip move, the warm hand moving to your thighs and sliding underneath the skirt. You grit your teeth, cringing when you felt a finger rub against the panties you had on. The feeling of his rubbing you through the thin fabric made your stomach tighten - not in the way you expected. A gasp left you when he brushed against your clit, practically ghosting over the little nub.

"You say no, yet you react so sweetly to me. You really are just a stupid slut, aren't you? I said stockings were part of the dress code, not these garters," he pulled the garter and let it snap back against your skin, earning another gasp. You closed your eyes, hoping whatever would happen would happen so you could go home and get away from this nightmare. One second, your arms were behind you being bound by a large hand, then it felt like a piece of cloth had replaced it. After attempting to move your arms, you felt the fabric digging into your skin.

Instead of talking, Enji decided to continue with his exploration of your body. The finger rubbing you through your panties left, his hand pulling up your skirt over your rump, fully on display for his eyes. You fought the urge to vomit when he made a noise, a mix between a groan and a sigh, at the sight. Once again, a hand came up to your panties, rubbing your folds through the fabric while the other one palmed your cheek. A sudden ripping sound filled your ears, startling you and making you gasp as you felt your cunt suddenly exposed. Out of your periphery, you saw the white of your panties, a piece of them at least, falling out of sight onto the floor.

"I've been waiting for this. You bent over with your cunt taking in my cock. I wonder how cute you'll sound? Or will it be more slutty to accompany how you look like a whore?" He admitted, making you feel even more disgusted with him. Knowing he had fantasized about this — about him forcefully having his way with you — was downright disgusting. A large and hot object brushed against your wet folds, making your head pop up as you felt it push in. "I've just put it in— you're so fucking tight,"

"I- I'm a virgin," you finally said, wincing at the foreign intrusion. You were sure it'd hurt with any man, but Enji was bigger than average. You figured that out when watching him on television, back in your high school days when you developed a crush on the older man, thoughts of him accompanying you in those lonely nights and how large he would be. Of course, those thoughts didn't include the idea of pain with the large cock of Enji Todoroki.

"No wonder you're so tight. I'd figure my slutty secretary had been with quite a few people. I'm honored to be your first-" he suddenly thrust his hips forward, making you cry in pain as he buried himself to the hilt, "and your last,"

"Th- That's— ah!" your mind couldn't process any information except how hot and big his cock was, stretching you out farther than you ever expected. Your body rocked in rhythm with the slow, but sharp thrusts of Enji, your head hurting from the earlier treatment of being thrown on the desk. You grit your teeth, hoping to avoid any sounds from coming out, but mewls and moans would slip through, letting him know he was definitely pleasing you. Instead of pointing it out, he just grinned when your pitch rose. A particular thrust earned him an open-mouthed mewl, your eyes rolling at the sensation.

"Sounding like a proper whore, aren't you? Pathetic. You're just a whiny little bitch, aren't you?" his words hurt, they were supposed to, but the way your walls clench tighter around him, if that was possible, proved you took it a different way. "Look at you, tightening at my words. Don't you know only cute little girls get to cum? If you want to be my good little girl, you're going to need to beg like a whore,"

"Nn—“ you whined, his thrusts getting rougher and picking up the pace, pushing you closer to your orgasm. You knew it was coming, you knew it'd have to happen eventually, so you kept your mouth shut. If anything, you'd keep your stubborn pride at not obeying his every command. Too bad for you, Enji pulled out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing.

"Your pretty pussy is practically begging for my cock again. I said to beg like a whore, you stupid bitch," his chuckle was low and deep, making your chest tighten as you associated that with the better times. Feeling those butterflies after what he did made you feel sick. You whined, feeling the orgasm slowly slip away. "Beg. Like. A. Whore."

"En- Enji, please let me cum. I- I pro- promise to be a good girl. I promise. Please, just- just let me cum," you whined, feeling filthy. Your head was turned, so you got to see the downright terrifying grin that Enji sported at your words. Apparently it was enough for him because he slid his cock back into your tight, warm walls and pounded away. Your moans were more free now, your hands clenching into fists at the feeling of your orgasm building again.

"I'm sure you'd be happy— fuck— happy to milk me dry, wouldn't you?" he grunted, his own orgasm approaching. You nodded your head, shuffling your feet to try and allow for more space for Enji to fill you. The heels gave you some added height, but you still needed some more to completely feel him. Lucky for you, Enji noticed and positioned you differently, your shoes barely grazing the floor as the only thing holding you up was Enji's cock and this thrusts into your tight cunt, the squelching sounds encouraging him to go faster. Your eyes rolled back, feeling your high wash over you as you came, your walls sending Enji to cum, too. The feeling of his thick, hot cum spilling into you made you sigh, feeling full and warm.

Enji sliding out of you, setting you unsteadily onto your feet made you come back down to Earth, where you were in Endeavor's office and currently feeling his cum ooze out of your spasming cunt. You cringed in disgust, your legs shaky and unstable. The fabric binding your arms was removed, making you sigh in relief, the numb limbs falling to your side.

"Come on, get up. I'm not done with you yet," his voice made you turn, your eyes widened. He obviously was less fucked-out than you were, his cock standing tall and proud. Automatically, you went to lick your lips at the slick cock, finally seeing out thick it was. "You're gonna clean me up and then I'm going to go back to fucking you senseless and fill you up. I'm going to give reality to every fantasy about you. Now, get to licking, slut,"

And, like his good little girl, you obeyed. Getting to your knees was much more comfortable, anyways.

#bnha x reader #bnha endeavour #endeavor x reader #enji todoroki #enji todoroki x reader #tw.dubcon #tw.blackmail #tw.noncon #tw.mindbreak #Endeavor sir #Mr. Enji #BB.Kinky #BB.Dark #Enji.Spice

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shroomcult · 3 years

Link

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4: Apologize

I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.

Summary:

Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.

Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic.

**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.

It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.

After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery.

The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well.

Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.

The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.

Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes.

Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.

It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.

They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason.

Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.

More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.

She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.

He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.

He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.

All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though.

Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.

Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.

She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.

And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.

He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.

He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.

Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town.

Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section.

There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.

Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.

He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.

He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.

“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.

Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”

Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”

“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.

Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.

Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.

“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.”

Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.

Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up.

Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.

“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.

“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”

Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”

He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.

“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.

“I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.

He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”

Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”

“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.

She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.

Is she fucking serious?

Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness.

It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.

“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.

Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?

After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check.

The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.

So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.

“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”

A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.”

“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.

“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone.

_______________________________________________

Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.

It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him.

She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue.

And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear.

She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.

“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”

In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight.

“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.

“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”

Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.

“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?”

Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question.

“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.

This entire conversation was throwing her off.

“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”

Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine.

“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out.

“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”

“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.

He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.”

“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?”

Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”

She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance.

“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.

The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides.

She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.

But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.

Had she really been so blind?

_______________________________________________

Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.

He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.

It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.

He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue.

Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get.

As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her.

He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends.

He’d felt used.

Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.

Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.

Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.

Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.

All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.

“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater.

“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.

She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.

“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I?

Was that a trick question?

“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.

“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.

He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?

He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”

His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”

It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.

“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.

“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.

“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”

She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.

Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you’d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”

She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.

“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.

“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”

“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”

“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.

As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.

“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”

His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.

“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.

She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.

“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”

Very articulate. Great job, Soul.

He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.

“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest.

At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.

She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips.

This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making.

When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face.

“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.

He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep.

He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaweek #soul eater #soul evans #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul x maka

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