#i’m new to the fandom and i already murdered my poor hand

[silver-sky1ine]

Oopsie

I seem to have found a new semi obsession

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

For the ask/tag game, every one of your wip titles intrigues me to no end, but I’m especially tied between ‘Bad Guys Have All The Fun’ and ‘Voices in the Library’!

I’m honestly in awe of your titling skills! Does it take you ages to come up with something you like (like it does for me lol) or do you find you have a knack for it? Also, thanks for the tag!! 💕 -@lostinthemayall

Hiiii! Aw, thank you! And no problem about the tag, I love the fics of yours I've read. ❤️

Titles are so fun and I find it far too exciting when the right one finally presents itself. There's only been one time where I've had a fic completely written and still not known what to call it - with most of these WIPs I've either been inspired by a quote from the source material, or the right title has popped into my mind when brainstorming the story. I've noticed I tend to use the word "bastard" a lot. 😂 Although, I suppose that's unsurprising considering the fandoms I write for.

Bad Guys Have All The Fun

Hehe okay, this WIP is something me and @colourshot-draws cooked up, so shout out to him for being Grate™. I'm going to go on a bit about this one, you've struck on one of my favourites. 😂

This WIP is basically an AU for Blackadder the Third... where we shove Alan B'Stard in there to cause murderous havoc. Why? Well, I think the characters of Edmund Blackadder, especially the third one, and Alan B'Stard would have a deliciously awful dynamic. As Rik already plays a character in the Blackadder universe - the noble Lord Flashheart woof woof - setting a story in S3 means I get to write about an absent from canon Regency era Flash, which is fun too! In this WIP, Alan is the younger brother of Flash and has bitter youngest child syndrome particularly considering the inheritance Flash is due and he ISN'T when their dad croaks. Blackadder doesn't like Flashheart, so Alan seeks him out to help plot big brother's demise.

It's gonna get dark - its main two characters have extremely questionable morals - and this isn't a story where good triumphs over evil... more a story about the different layers of evil and how even the most detached, calculating, sadistic people have vulnerabilities. I also just want to make Edmund and Alan play chess together. I think Baldrick is basically the moral compass knocking about in this WIP, so I want to explore the Blackadder and Baldrick relationship too. It transcends the generations, after all!

Oh, and the title comes from a line in Blackadder's Christmas Carol. 😊

None of this WIP is posted so far and not a lot is actually written yet 😂 buuuut here's a little snippet:

Of course, Baldrick didn't seem to be getting the message.

"But this second son could be a whole different person," he said, ignorant of the fact he'd just dropped a handful of stuffing on the floor.

Blackadder sighed and rolled his eyes. "Funnily enough, I suspect that he will be."

He gave Baldrick a deadpan stare.

Baldrick shook his head. "No, sir, I meant that he might have a completely different personality to Lord Flash- to the other one."

Blackadder's eyebrow quirked upwards once more at the news that Baldrick understood the concept of personalities.

Baldrick went on, "You never know, Mr B, he could be like you."

He smiled stupidly at Blackadder, misunderstanding the eyebrow entirely.

It was so obviously meant as a compliment, that comment, though coming from Baldrick a compliment was more akin to an insult. Still, Blackadder couldn't see how there was a possibility of even a sprinkling of a nugget of truth to Baldrick's inane suggestion - there was no one like Edmund Blackadder, no one at all. Frankly, he wouldn't have minded it staying that way.

Blackadder stood up, dusting off his black coat in preparation for door answering duties. What a poor, brainless cretin he had on his hands here.

"Yes, Baldrick, maybe he will be like me," he agreed with a telling smirk. "And maybe one day, man will walk upon the moon."

As he went to climb the stairs out of the kitchen, doubtless leaving Baldrick more confused than before their conversation began, Blackadder felt that viciousness gnawing at his innards again.

"Then again, maybe not."

Thanks for the ask! Apologies for the extraordinarily self indulgent answer. I've got another ask in my inbox asking about Voices in the Library, so I'll spill about that one then. 😊❤️

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

[shelobussy]

ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST 

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do)  by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses. 

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this. 

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up. 

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.  

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

-

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan​

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust. 

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

-

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend.  Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.) 

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.) 

________

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

--

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

[journalofimprobablethings]

She's complete! My very first finished multi-chapter and I am so happy and relieved that is done--and pretty proud at how it turned out.

Chapters: 4/4

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Annabelle Cane, Mikaele Salesa

Tags: Memory Loss, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams vs. Reality, Angst with a Happy Ending

Chapter Summary: Martin finds Jon, and they finally make their way out of Upton House.

Preview:

Martin sits at the foot of the staircase in the foyer of Upton House, his head in his hands.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He can feel the pull of the Lonely again, the siren song of waves and fog, the promise of an escape from this situation, all these messy emotions.

He pushes it away as hard as he can, focusing on all the details of this room - the plush carpet runner on the stairs, the smooth shine of the bannisters, the faint smell of floor polish. The sound of Salesa playing the piano in another room. Anything and everything to keep him here, present, in this moment.

You're not alone, he tells himself. Jon is still here. You'll get him out of here and then he will be fine. You'll get him back.

You're not alone. You're not alone. You're not alone.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Not alone , Martin thinks with a silent, bitter laugh. He doesn't move, his head still resting in his hands, his eyes closed.

"Go away, Annabelle."

Annabelle does not go away. Instead Martin hears a rustle and then feels her sit down on the step next to him.

“Poor Martin. Things never get easier for you, do they? Even here.”

He remains still, only clutching his fingers a little tighter in his hair. He hates that a part of him softens at her sympathy.

"What do you want?”

"Nothing. I'm just enjoying the show."

Martin lifts his head then so he can glare at her, and as he does, a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Did you have something to do with this?”

He can’t believe it never occurred to him before. He doesn’t know if memory loss is something the Web can even do, but if she did—Jon might not remember how to smite Annabelle anymore, but Martin will figure out a way to end her all the same.

Annabelle only smiles at the murder in his eyes. “The Web doesn’t control everything, Martin. Whatever you might think. And as much as I might like to take credit for this particular thread." Her grin widens. "We haven’t had such excitement in the house in weeks.”

Martin lets out a sigh. It’s about as straight an answer as he can expect from Annabelle.

"Well I'm glad our distress is a source of entertainment for you,” he says.

“I would have thought you would be used to that sort of thing by now. Isn’t your boyfriend sustained by the distress of others?”

“It’s not the same. He doesn’t enjoy it.”

“Doesn’t he?”

Martin doesn't answer. He doesn't want to think about the look on Jon's face after he killed the Not-Sasha, or Jared, or Jude. He doesn't want to think about how comfortable Jon is in this twisted new world, how even amongst his guilt there is a strange satisfaction in him at his ability to finally Know, to understand the world and how it works, to no longer be helpless.

"How does it feel, knowing that he is so at home out there, but he can't handle even a few days without the Eye?"

She asks it like a real question, like she truly wants to know. And Martin almost answers her.

Terrible. Terrifying. I'm so afraid of losing him to it, that one day I'll look at him and there won't be any of Jon left in him, just the Archivist. The Eye.

But he doesn't say that. Instead he looks at her steadily, ignoring her placid, curious expression.

"I know what you're doing."

"And what is that?"

"You're trying to make me doubt him. To—to put something between us, drive us apart. It's not going to work." It's only as Martin says the words that he realizes just how true they are. "I know what Jon is. I know what he can do. But I believe in him. I trust him. And I'm with him, until the end. No matter what."

Annabelle studies him for a moment. Her gaze is almost as piercing as Jon's, but Martin forces himself not to look away.

"Yes, I think you are," she says. "Pity."

Annabelle smiles, and it seems a little rueful, that smile. Then she stands.

"He's in the drawing room, with Mikaele. You'd better go get him."

Martin eyes her for a moment, trying to work out what she could gain from telling him this, what new game she might be playing. But there doesn't seem to be anything behind her words. She states them flatly, plainly. Just a fact.

He doesn't thank her. He just nods, and she turns to go.

But before she can leave, he reaches out a hand to her. "Annabelle, wait."

She looks at him, expectant.

He has to ask it, the question he's been dreading since Jon first woke up and he realized what was happening. But it takes him a few tries to get the words out.

"Will it fix him? Going back out there. Will it—will he get it all back?"

She cocks her head. "Perhaps. Even the Mother of Puppets can’t see the future. But the Eye won't want to lose its Archivist."

And then she disappears down the hall, before he can ask more.

Martin sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. He is already so tired. He wants to go back to bed, to sink into those soft pillows and sleep and wake up to find that this was all a nightmare, that Jon is still next to him, whole. He wishes, just once, that things could be easy.

He sighs again. If wishes were fishes , he thinks. And then he stands, and goes to find Jon.

Thanks for reading! You can catch the rest of this chapter and the other chapters on AO3!

[1990jeevas]

I love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, tell me something cool!! Anything you want, just something you find interesting or want to talk about :D

hello anon my beloved, I am in a bad mood so you will be receiving a passionate, yet lowkey of pissy rant about why villainizing bakugou makes me wanna vomit and its NOT just because I'm a dumbass kinnie :)

tws: child abuse (emotional and physical), near death expierences, bullying, kidnapping, suffocation, lots of trauma in general tbh. if you've seen bnha then basically just keep all the general triggering plot stuff in mind incase i missed any warnings

also, note: I havent caught up on bnha in a minute, I'm at like the start of the war arc but I barely remember shit there tbh so like. probs missing new stuff. also bnha spoiler warnings lol

so, for starters, the homie bakugou has like,, a good handful of issues that come from his childhood that explain why he's an ass. he was always praised and never actually reprimanded for being a twat which led to him having a huge ego that ended up fucking him over majorly. this ego was something that his mother acknowledged him having, but literally didnt try to fix it with anything other than violence. see here:

like, instead of trying to help him, she hits and insults him, which is probably what led to his weird inferiority/superiority complex. being constantly told by others that you're outstanding and one day you'll be a top hero because you're rude and aggressive and then going home and being hit by your mother for those exact same behaviors is bound to fucking confuse a child.

so like, now that we've established that its definetly canon that his mother (parents? I think he said parents at some point but masaru doesn't seem like the type so 🤷) hits him though we don't know how much or how often (though if bakugou was as much of a little shit back then ((which as far as we've seen- he was)) then it was probably often), lets talk about how regardless of all that 1) hitting your kids as "discipline" not only doesn't work but is abusive lol like idc if it's spanking/popping them on the mouth for talking shit, slapping them across the face "on occasion", etc. shits not okay 2) hitting your kids!!!! does not work!!!!!!!! it is literally PROVEN not to work!!!!!!!! hitting a child who has done something wrong doesnt teach them to stop doing something it teaches them to be scared of you, which will cause the child to withdraw, removing part of their support system (assuming said abusive parents would even offer that up) and will most likely lead to them thinking they're a bad person, not that their actions were bad, which are two different things. so, ya know, that would clearly have an effect on a kid. like, as someone with a mother who reminds me all too much of mitsuki: I have acted like a complete shitbag and taken my anger out on people to feel better in the past because of the way my mother treated me. though it was nowhere near what bakugou did, I still know first fucking hand what a mother hitting and insulting her child will do, especially if they have no proper outlet for that (friends, a safe place to vent) which bakugou never fucking had.

theres also the fact that just talking to your kid the way mitsuki does (saying it's his fault he was kidnapped because he's weak, all while hitting him) is not??? okay?????? ive seen people arguing that this was just a joke in poor taste but like her son was KIDNAPPED and even if it was a "joke" there's literally NO WAY that would EVER?? BE FUNNY??????? she just sounds like the kind of parent who at the very least says shit without thinking that would traumatize bakugou (because being told right after being kidnapped it's your fucking fault by your mother is absolutely traumatizing) but it comes across as her being emotionally abusive.

mitsukis character as a whole comes across as a shitty mom who doesn't realize she's a shitty mom and thinks bakugou being an ass isn't at least partially her fault even though she's admitted to realizing he has always had an ego problem and doing nothing to fix it except for hitting and yelling which obviously did nothing but make him just as loud and violent as she is.

this is obviously not the entire reason why he's a dick but he was never properly taught that the shit he was doing wasn't okay and people not stopping it and/or praising him endlessly even tho he was a bully is basically the same as encouraging it, thank you very much.

moving on from that, let's talk about bakugous other traumas and how he naturally responds to them. hint: it's with either full blown panic or a fight response (verbal or physical, though usually physical. also sometimes it's the panic followed by the fight response.)

so far in bnha (keep in mind that I am not caught up, I've only read up to the beginning of the war arc and i barely remember those bits so) bakugou has...

nearly died via sludge villain (he was unable to move and was being suffocated to death- keep this in mind)

lost for the first time ever and against deku of all people (this nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack, likely because of that sexy little inferiority/superiority complex combo. think of this as like. gifted kid burnout lite. he has always been the best of the best and now suddenly he is being beaten by somebody who has always been weaker than him, which immediately makes him start thinking he was never actually that good, he's actually a fucking failure, a goddamn fraud)

won the sports festival by default (bakugou counts this as yet another failure because todoroki didnt try his best. had bakugou lost to todoroki full strength, he would've taken 2nd place with a bit of bitching, but he still wouldve taken it rather than refuse the medal as it would be a reminder that he failed. instead of accepting that like UA shouldve, the staff chained and muzzled him on live television and then had all might, his fucking idol, force the medal into his mouth. remember the sludge villain incident and how he couldnt move and was suffocating to death? yeah.)

been kidnapped because of the way he reacted to winning during the sports festival (he was aggressive and tried to refuse the medal because he felt he didnt deserve it and was then retraumatized by being chained up and muzzled. his "villainous attitude" was a fucking trauma response, do not tell me otherwise)

was then chained up once again by the LOV after being kidnapped,,, do we see the "retraumatize bkg" theme yet?

"ended all might" (he literally blames himself for all mights retirement because had he just not have been weak, all might wouldve had more time, right?)

my point with all of these is that bakugou has been severely traumatized and has then had his trauma responses (aggression, fight) used to further demonize him. not all people with trauma react the fucking same and the way the fandom just refuses to acknowledge anger as a valid form of trauma response is gross as hell.

moving away from that topic, bakugou has literally never had any actual friends, they all just used him and didn't care about him which absolutely will fuck up a kid, especially one who already has all that other shit going on. bakugou deadass never had a support system or people to help him grow as a person, let alone properly work through his fucking emotions so it's not surprising that he would take out his bullshit on the one person who tried to help him especially considering he saw dekus actions as him thinking he was weak. bakugou was raised to not seek help, he thought somebody strong shouldnt ever need it, so for somebody like deku (who bakugou percieved as weak and helpless already) to offer up help? deku must obviously think bakugou is even weaker than him, what other explanation could their possibly be!

speaking of which, there's his heaps of insecurities that he basically hid by being a twat and bullying others for most of his life. kid was so insecure he bullied deku for fucking years cause he thought deku looked down on him, thought he was better than him, etc. and that only got worse bc his idol then decided to take deku in, train him and even give him his quirk. there's probably some shit im missing but still he's got issues and always has had issues. that being said, he's actually improving and working them out now which is what makes him a really good, interesting character. it's also nice to see a character who is a dick without some tragic backstory (like his backstory is sad but its not the classic "my family was fucking slaughtered and i turned into a raging bitch who murders people" type shit) bc that rarely happens and it's like most assholes don't actually have a story like that they're just assholes lol

now lets talk improvement! lil bitch has been getting better since he got into UA and im so happy abt it!! he had a rough start what with deku suddenly having a quirk and all but like he is really improving now and it highkey shows that bakugou just mostly needed people who 1) didn't constantly praise him and actually criticized him instead 2) actually fucking punished him doing stupid shit and 3) some motherfucking friends

Since going to UA he's gotten actually feedback from teachers about his weaknesses and how to get stronger, he's lost against others, hes been told he has a shit attitude and is a dick, told he should be nicer and leave deku alone, etc etc. He hasn't gotten in trouble too much with teachers but others give him shit for what he does and aizawa has punished him too, while still acknowledging that bakugou is an amazing and dedicated student, something which no one else had done up til that point. and uh???? homie actually has friends who like,,, don't use him and also call him out when he's a dick. like specifically kirishima has done this shit and him and bakugous relationship is clearly very healthy and beneficial for the both of them. makes me feel all happy n shit, ya know

bottom line is: while it is absolutely valid to dislike or even hate bakugou because he is a massively flawed person who has been very cruel to others, villainizing him for the way he acts which in large part seems to be from a lack of guidance, a shitty mother and heavy amounts of trauma, is fucking awful. his actions cannot be fucking excused, he needs to apologize and continue to grow, but he is also a fucking teenager, who is just now being told that the way he acts is unacceptable by people who dont fucking abuse him (and I swear to god if any people who think mitsuki isnt abusive interact with this fucking post I will fullstop hardblock you, I do not fucking care) and actually treat him like a normal person instead of some prodigy child or someone who needs to be fixed.

people are free to debate my points or whatever bc I know some of this stuff is up to interpretation but like. dni if you're just here to say you hate bakugou for xyz reason or that he's irredeemable. also especially dni if you compare him to fucking endeavor yall bitches make me gag.

anyways thxs for the ask anon <33 sorry this is a kinda messy info dump lol

[asexualbuthorny]

Hey I'm back at it again with uncalled for and unwanted opinions on fictional characters. This might be long and entirely just word womit but this my blog and I do what I want.

The fandom I chose to desecrate today is Twisted Wonderland. Let's begin!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle Rosehearts. Love the boy. He a little too strict for me tho. Livin by the rules feels kinda like living on a schedule and I don't vibe with that. Baby has issues. He needs therapy more than he needs a relationship(simps sit down). Would not date him. Good friend material. He just needs to relax a little.

Trey Clover. He's the brother I never had and the father I wish I had. I bet he gives top tier hugs. Would go to him for advice. Would not date him 'cause he's dad. Want him to adopt me. Lovely boy. Very responsible and sensible. Trust him without doubt (daddy kink havers dni /j).

Cater Diamond. Suspishis. I don't know what he's thinking. Cannot trust. Good boy nevertheless. Probably has some issues. Im not a fan of social media so Im not with the whole magicam thing or whatever. Very pretty. Deserves more love. And hugs. Would not date. Good friend material pt.2

Ace Trapolla. More like crappola. Stinky bastard man. If I was there he wouldn't have kneecaps. Would throw hands. Annoying. Needs to get beaten up and put in his place. If he said shit to me I would throw his ass out a window. Would not date. Hardly a friend.

Deuce Spade. Wonderful boy. Sweet angel. Love him. Best boy! Best boy! Best boy! Has my heart. Would trust him. He may be dumbass but I vibe with him. A personal favourite. Would date. Would marry. We could raise chicks together. Dream boy. My heart is filled with love when I think of him. 10/10. A good friend and a potential lover.

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar. DISGUSTANG. STINKY. AWFUL BASTARD MAN. Leona simps get help. This man smells like pee. Lazy. Can't do shit by himself. I don't know if he's aware but if he wasn't royalty nobody and I mean NOBODY would deal with his shit. And his attitude like cool you can always fail and get held back 'cause you have daddys money and can go back home and live with your parents your whole life but not everybody has that kind of priviledge. That kind of ungratefulness just make my brain angry. Would not date. Not a friend. Would not deal with his shit. Throw hands on sight.

Ruggie Bucchi. Sneaky. Needs money. I understand Im broke too. Don't have much to say about him. Doesn't occupy much space in my head. Would not date. Hard to trust. May be a friend. He would probably rob me. Disrespectfuly.

Jack Howl. Good boy. Deserves the best. Very responsible and has a good sense of justice. A little too serious. Calm down. Tsundere. Want to pet them ears tho. Another best boy! We can all agree that he's a favourite among the fans. Would not date. Very good friend.

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto. Shady. Not trustworthy. Responsible. He runs a restaurant while being a top student. I can respect that. Very smart. Insecure. Don't worry bb we all been there. I like him. But he's still bastard. But like less. Idk. Would date but barely. Maybe a friend. Again barely.

Floyd Leech. Crazy mf. His simps are masochists I don't take critisism. He would fold us all like lawnchairs. Don't think about him much. Not my cup of man. I like his voice tho. Kinda cute. Can't trust tho. Would not date. Friend but very carefuly.

Jade Leech. Scary. This man knows things. Sells your secrets on the black market. Polite. Dangerous. Not much to say abt him. His simps rub me the wrong way. Would not date. A person I know from school but not a friend.

Scarabia:

Kalim Al Asim. Very friendly. Sunshine boy. Lively child. Very naive. I would fool him for the lols. Give him many hugs. I don't like parties so we wouldn't vibe on that. He could teach me new games. Rich boy. Probably buys his friends expensive shit and thinks it's a small present. Could date. Makes a better friend tho. Take me on a magic carpet ride pls.

Jamil Viper. Sneaky pt.2. Can't trust after the shit he pulled. Can forgive but not forget. He's a lot smarter than he looks. Even if already looks smart. Can cook so that's a plus. Big respect to people that can cook. He would fool me for the lols. I would fall for it every time. He knows things. Sells your secrets pt.2. He wants to break free. Would not date. Friend but very very carefuly.

Pomefiore:

Vil Schoenheit. We would not get along. Im very live and let live and he sticks his nose in other people buisiness. I don't care how I look and he's very aesthetic oriented. He would call me ugly. I would call him a bitch. We would throw hands on sight. Argue every day. I would hide and defend Epel from him and his bullshit. He's dedicaded to his thing and has a succsesful career so I can respect that. But he still a bitch.

Rook Hunt. Don't trust him. He's french. Creepy. Poor beastpeople tbh. Can't say much about him. I bet he writes superb poetry tho. 10/10 would listen. Would compliment me. Don't know if genuine. Would not date. Decent friend tho.

Epel Felmier. Arson buddies. Commit crimes together. Call Vil a bitch toghether. He wants to be buff and I can get behind that. He could beat my ass and I would let him. He's kinda like a little brother who you teach how to get away with murder. We would beat everones ass. Good boy. Best friend. Would not date. We would rule the school.

Ignyhide:

Idia Shroud. I could beat his ass. Wouldn't tho. Not worth it. Incel. Gets zero pussy. Probably stinky. Would still try to befriend. Bully him lovingly. Gatekeeper. Anxiety. Me too tbh. Not much to sqy about him. Roast marshmellows on his head. Would not date. Could be a friend.

Ortho Shroud. A child. We could be friends. I would teach him swearwords. Good boy. Don't know much about him. Friend material.

Diasomnia:

Sebek Zigvolt. Why he so damn loud? Like calm down boy. Still very good and dedicaded. Could not be in relationship 'cause he has other things on his plate. Tries to be responsible. Still a disaster dumbass. Love the boy. Would not date. Good friend.

Silver. Don't know much about him. Like what are you hiding sleepyheadass? Seems like a nice good boy. We could take hella naps together. Would not date. Befriend him.

Lilia Vanrouge. Dad/grandpa vibes. Would take care of me while Im sick. I would get poisoned by his cooking. HE GIVES THE BEST HUGS YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. Father I wish I had pt.2. Trickster. Would tease me. I still love him. Welcom to the fam. Would not date because him grandpa.

Malleus Draconia. THIS MAN. Im looking respectfuly. Gorgeus. Beautiful. Stunning. My husband. Give him love and hugs and kisses. I would marry this man. My sunshine my starlight. Im such a simp for him. Who wouldn't want a cool dragon husband. He owns my heart and my ass. 100000000/10. Would die for him. Bestest boy. My love please come to me.

Wwwaaaa this was long. I might post something strictly about relationships if I feel anything again some time soon.

[silver-sky1ine]

Hi I just joined the atla fandom and immediately did a quick gif

The quality went down for some reason but y’know..

Zuko my love 🥰

[nitrateglow]

Favorite films discovered in 2020

Well, this year sucked. I did see some good movies though. Some even made after I was born!

Perfect Blue (dir. Satoshi Kon, 1997)

I watch a lot of thrillers and horror movies, but precious few actually unsettle me in any lasting way. This cannot be said of Perfect Blue, which gave me one of the most visceral cinematic experiences of my life. Beyond the brief flashes of bloodletting (you will never look at a screwdriver the same way again), the scariest thing about Perfect Blue might be how the protagonist has both her life and her sense of self threatened by the villains. The movie’s prescience regarding public persona is also incredibly eerie, especially in our age of social media. While anime is seen as a very niche interest (albeit one that has become more mainstream in recent years), I would highly recommend this movie to thriller fans, whether they typically watch anime or not. It’s right up there with the best of Hitchcock or De Palma.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (dir. Sergio Leone, 1966)

Nothing is better than when an iconic movie lives up to the hype. Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef play off of one another perfectly. I was impressed by Wallach as Tuco in particular: his character initially seems like a one-dimensional greedy criminal, but the performance is packed with wonderful moments of humanity. Do I really need to say anything about the direction? Or about the wonderful storyline, which takes on an almost mythic feel in its grandeur? Or that soundtrack?

Die Niebelungen (both movies) (dir. Fritz Lang, 1924)

I did NOT expect to love these movies as much as I did. That they would be dazzlingly gorgeous I never doubted: the medieval world of the story is brought to vivid life through the geometrical mise en scene and detailed costuming. However, the plot itself is so, so riveting, never losing steam over the course of the four hours it takes to watch both movies. The first half is heroic fantasy; the second half involves a revenge plot of almost Shakespearean proportions. This might actually be my favorite silent Fritz Lang movie now.

Muppet Treasure Island (dir. Brian Henson, 1996)

I understand that people have different tastes and all, but how does this movie have such a mixed reception? It’s absolutely hilarious. How could anybody get through the scene with “THA BLACK SPOT AGGHHHHHHH” and not declare this a masterpiece of comedy? And I risk being excommunicated from the Muppet fandom for saying it, but I like this one more than The Great Muppet Caper. It’s probably now my second favorite Muppet movie.

Belle de Jour (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1967)

I confess I’m not terribly fond of “but was it real???” movies. They tend to feel gimmicky more often than not. Belle de Jour is an exception. This is about more than a repressed housewife getting her kicks working as a daytime prostitute. The film delves into victim blaming, trauma, class, and identity-- sure, this sounds academic and dry when I put it that way, but what I’m trying to say is that these are very complicated characters and the blurring of fantasy and reality becomes thought-provoking rather than trite due to that complexity.

Secondhand Lions (dir. Tim McCanlies, 2003)

The term “family movie” is often used as a synonym for “children’s movie.” However, there is an important distinction: children’s movies only appeal to kids, while family movies retain their appeal as one grows up. Secondhand Lions is perhaps a perfect family movie, with a great deal more nuance than one might expect regarding the need for storytelling and its purpose in creating meaning for one’s life. It’s also amazingly cast: Haley Joel Osment is excellent as the juvenile lead, and Michael Caine and Robert Duvall steal the show as Osment’s eccentric uncles.

The Pawnbroker (dir. Sidney Lumet, 1964)

Controversial in its day for depicting frontal nudity, The Pawnbroker shocks today for different reasons. As the top review of the film on IMDB says, we’re used to victims of great atrocities being presented as sympathetic, good people in fiction. Here, Rod Steiger’s Sol Nazerman subverts such a trope: his suffering at the hands of the Nazis has made him a hard, closed-off person, dismissive of his second wife (herself also a survivor of the Holocaust), cold to his friendly assistant, and bitter towards himself. The movie follows Nazerman’s postwar life, vividly presenting his inner pain in a way that is almost too much to bear. Gotta say, Steiger gives one of the best performances I have ever seen in a movie here: he’s so three-dimensional and complex. The emotions on his face are registered with Falconetti-level brilliance.

The Apartment (dir. Billy Wilder, 1960)

While not the most depressing Christmas movie ever, The Apartment certainly puts a good injection of cynicism into the season. I have rarely seen a movie so adept at blending comedy, romance, and satire without feeling tone-deaf. There are a lot of things to praise about The Apartment, but I want to give a special shoutout to the dialogue. “Witty” dialogue that sounds natural is hard to come by-- so often, it just feels smart-assy and strained. Not here.

Anatomy of a Murder (dir. Otto Preminger, 1959)

I’m not big into courtroom dramas, but Anatomy of a Murder is a big exception. Its morally ambiguous characters elevate it from being a mere “whodunit” (or I guess in the case of this movie, “whydunit”), because if there’s something you’re not going to get with this movie, it’s a clear answer as to what happened on the night of the crime. Jimmy Stewart gives one of his least characteristic performances as the cynical lawyer, and is absolutely brilliant. 

Oldboy (dir. Park Chan-Wook, 2003)

Oldboy reminded me a great deal of John Webster’s 17th century tragedy The Duchess of Malfi. Both are gruesome, frightening, and heartbreaking works of art, straddling the line between sensationalism and intelligence, proving the two are not mutually exclusive. It’s both entertaining and difficult to watch. The thought of revisiting it terrifies me but I feel there is so much more to appreciate about the sheer craft on display.

Family Plot (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1976)

Family Plot is an enjoyable comedy; you guys are just mean. I know in an ideal world, Hitchcock’s swan song would be a great thriller masterpiece in the vein of Vertigo or Psycho. Family Plot is instead a silly send-up of Hitchcock’s favorite tropes, lampooning everything from the dangerous blonde archetype (with not one but two characters) to complicated MacGuffin plots. You’ll probably demand my film buff card be revoked for my opinion, but to hell with it-- this is my favorite of Hitchcock’s post-Psycho movies.

My Best Girl (dir. Sam Taylor, 1927)

Mary Pickford’s farewell to silent film also happens to be among her best movies. It’s a simple, charming romantic comedy starring her future husband, Charles “Buddy” Rogers. Pickford also gets to play an adult character here, rather than the little girl parts her public demanded she essay even well into her thirties. She and Rogers are sweet together without being diabetes-inducing, and the comedy is often laugh out loud funny. It even mocks a few tropes that anyone who watches enough old movies will recognize and probably dislike-- such as “break his heart to save him!!” (my personal most loathed 1920s/1930s trope).

Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2019)

This feels like such a zeitgeist movie. It’s about the gap between the rich and the poor, it’s ironic,  it’s depressing, it’s unpredictable as hell. I don’t like terms like “modern classic,” because by its very definition, a classic can only be deemed as such after a long passage of time, but I have a good feeling Parasite will be considered one of the definitive films of the 2010s in the years to come.

Indiscreet (dir. Stanley Donen, 1958)

Indiscreet often gets criticized for not being Notorious more or less, which is a shame. It’s not SUPPOSED to be-- it’s cinematic souffle and both Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant elevate that light material with their perfect chemistry and comedic timing. It’s also refreshing to see a rom-com with characters over 40 as the leads-- and the movie does not try to make them seem younger or less mature, making the zany moments all the more hilarious. It’s worth seeing for Cary Grant’s jig (picture above) alone.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (dir. Joseph Sargent, 1974)

This movie embodies so much of what I love about 70s cinema: it’s gritty, irreverent, and hard-hitting. It’s both hilarious and suspenseful-- I was tense all throughout the run time. I heard there was a remake and it just seems... so, so pointless when you already have this gem perfect as it is.

They All Laughed (dir. Peter Bogdonavich, 1981)

Bogdonavich’s lesser known homage to 1930s screwball comedy is also a weirdly autumnal movie. Among the last gasps of the New Hollywood movement, it is also marks the final time Audrey Hepburn would star in a theatrical release. The gentle comedy, excellent ensemble cast (John Ritter is the standout), and the mature but short-lived romance between Hepburn and Ben Gazarra’s characters make this a memorably bittersweet gem.

The Palm Beach Story (dir. Preston Sturges, 1942)

Absolutely hilarious. I was watching this with my parents in the room. My mom tends to like old movies while my dad doesn’t, but both of them were laughing aloud at this one. Not much else to say about it, other than I love Joel McCrea the more movies I see him in-- though it’s weird seeing him in comedies since I’m so used to him as a back-breaking man on the edge in The Most Dangerous Game!

Nothing Sacred (dir. William Wellman, 1937)

I tend to associate William Wellman with the pre-code era, so I’ve tried delving more into his post-code work. Nothing Sacred is easily my favorite of those films thus far, mainly for Carole Lombard but also because the story still feels pretty fresh due to the jabs it takes at celebrity worship and moral hypocrisy. For a satire, it’s still very warm towards its characters, even when they’re misbehaving or deluding themselves, so it’s oddly a feel-good film too.

Applause (dir. Rouben Mamoulian, 1929)

I love watching early sound movies, but my inner history nerd tends to enjoy them more than the part of me that, well, craves good, well-made movies. Most early sound films are pure awkward, but there’s always an exception and Applause is one of them. While the plot’s backstage melodrama is nothing special, the way the story is told is super sophisticated and expressive for this period of cinema history, and Helen Morgan makes the figure of the discarded burlesque queen seem truly human and tragic rather than merely sentimental.

Topaz (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1969)

Another late Hitchcock everyone but me seems to hate. After suffering through Torn Curtain, I expected Hitchcock’s other cold war thriller was going to be dull as dishwater, but instead I found an understated espionage movie standing in stark contrast to the more popular spy movies of the period. It’ll never be top Hitchcock, of course-- still it was stylish and enjoyable, with some truly haunting moments. I think it deserves more appreciation than it’s been given.

What were your favorite cinematic discoveries in 2020?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

[writeforfandoms]

Shake, Rattle and Roll epilogue

My masterlist

Okay folks. This is later than I intended but uh life kicked me around a bit. Sorry. 

Also. Once you’ve read it. There is a possibility that I could do a sequel for this, if there’s interest. I know I left things unsolved (the actual original murder for one) and I know what happened and how and why, but there wasn’t a clean space to add it in, because life doesn’t always work that way. SO if you wanna know more, let me know! My ask box is always open to y’all. Also lmk if you want more because honestly? I could definitely be persuaded to write more. This is fun. 

Summary: A little bit of cleanup. Some sleep. Some coffee. Things will look better in the morning.

Warnings: Just swearing for this one, nothing terrible.

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @sarahjkl82-blog @giizhkens-cedar 

--

It didn’t take longer than an hour to get back to your apartment, all told. The three of you hadn’t stuck around long after making sure Inumon and Mikken were both dead. Cee had been a trooper, keeping up with you and not complaining once on the trip. You splurged for a private ride for a few reasons, one of which was that you simply really did not want to bother with public transit at this hour. It was late, later than you usually ventured out, and between the hour and the leftover adrenaline, you were a bit twitchy. Ezra, on the other hand, seemed cool as a cucumber. 

But once the three of you were in your apartment, you were half-way to collapsing, and Cee looked like she was hanging on by a thread.

“Sleep first,” you decided. “Planning tomorrow.” You pointed Cee sternly to the couch before you left to grab extra blankets and pillows for her.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay the night?” Cee asked, sounding close to her age for the first time all night.

“I insist,” you told her firmly, handing her two pillows. “I’ve got more blankets if you need them, and you can borrow some clothes if you don’t want to sleep in those.”

“I’m okay for tonight,” Cee told you after a momentary pause. “Thank you.”

“Here.” You stepped into the kitchenette to grab her a glass of water. “Drink before bed or you’ll probably be dehydrated in the morning.”

Cee’s lips twitched but she took the glass. Probably just to appease you, but whatever, you’d take it. 

“I can find my own accommodations for the night,” Ezra offered.

“No, I’ve got a cot you can use,” you offered. “It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it’ll do.”

“It’ll do, indeed,” Ezra mused. “Very gracious of you.” 

You waved his thanks off, going back to the closet to grab the cot, and more pillows and blankets. Fortunately you were well stocked on those. Ezra helped, taking the cot from you and setting it up as you directed him. 

“Planning tomorrow,” you said again, looking between the two of them. Cee was already curled up under a blanket on the couch. “Sleep now, hopefully. When we’re all less tired.” 

“You’d do well to take your own advice, dove,” Ezra advised, glancing over at you from setting up the cot. “Get some water and sleep.”

You shot him a look, a little exasperated but mostly amused. You hesitated for a few moments, though. Did you bring up the kiss? Wait for him to bring it up? Then you made a face at yourself for acting like a kid with a crush and headed for your bedroom, more than ready to collapse. Everything would keep until tomorrow, of that you were certain. 

Despite being unused to having company, you fell asleep quickly and slept soundly. You woke to the smell of coffee, and rolled out of bed still a bit bleary. 

Cee and Ezra were both already awake. Cee was sitting on the couch cross-legged, while Ezra lounged against the counter. You looked at both of them briefly and then made for the coffee, hip-checking Ezra out of your way. 

“Good morning to you too, dove,” Ezra said, bright and amused.

“Coffee first,” you grumbled, getting down a mug. Coffee always came first.

“Coffee gremlin,” Cee said knowingly.

“The fuck, kid?” You half-turned to shoot her a betrayed look, to which she shot you a bright smile. Okay. Fine. Kid could make fun of you if she smiled like that. Fuck. You doctored your coffee how you liked it quickly, not bothering to move from where you were still right next to Ezra. He didn’t seem to mind, and it was your place, he could move if he wasn’t comfortable.

“So,” Cee started, looking at you briefly before suddenly finding the coffee table in front of her fascinating. “What now?”

You let out a breath, not quite a sigh. “What do you want? First and foremost.”

Cee considered for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. “I want to go to school.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

“Okay,” you agreed easily, tamping down your anger. Damon was dead, your anger would do you no good. “School. That can be arranged.”

Her head popped up and she stared at you, painfully hopeful. “Seriously?”

“‘Course. I’ll work it out. I know some people.” You smiled at her, hoping you hid your pain well enough. This poor kid. She clearly wasn’t used to people standing in her corner. New mantra for the day: Damon’s already dead, don’t be mad at him. 

“I reckon I shall have to venture on to find my next job, as this one didn’t pan out,” Ezra said, though he was watching you. 

You snorted softly at that. “I might know a few people for that, too,” you admitted before you took a large sip of coffee. “I’ve made a few contacts over the years.”

Ezra blinked at you, momentarily stunned silent. Probably not used to people offering help, rather than bartering. Clear sign he’d spent too long on the Green Moon. 

“Right,” you muttered, shifting away from the counter and starting to pace, because you felt better thinking while moving, and this required some thinking. “Cee, we’re gonna have to go get some of your things. I’m assuming you have things you’d like to keep that aren’t currently with you?”

Cee nodded, hair bobbing around her until she pushed it behind her ears.

“Okay. That’s the top of the list. I can always send out a few feelers now, probably won’t hear back from anyone for a few hours at least. We should try to move quickly, I have no idea when that house will be discovered, or people will be noted as missing.” You took another sip of coffee, your mind whirring back to life. 

You were abruptly stopped in the middle of one of your circuits, Ezra grabbing you firmly. You squeaked and managed not to slosh coffee all over the two of you, even as he grinned.

“A more generous and selfless soul I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting,” he hummed, voice low, eyes bright. “You are a rare one indeed, dove.”

You blinked at him, flabbergasted, not quite sure how to respond to that. Which, of course, he took advantage of, and kissed you again. Your brain blanked out just as quickly as it had woken up. 

“As cute as you two are,” Cee interrupted after seconds? Minutes? Who the hell kept track of time anymore anyway. “There’s something I need to show you.”

You pulled back from Ezra with some reluctance and pointed a finger at him. “We’re revisiting this topic later.”

“Yes ma’am.” Ezra’s lips curled in a devious, smug smile. 

You swallowed hard and turned to Cee, watching as she dug something out of her pocket. She unfolded it on the coffee table, looking suddenly nervous. You drifted closer to look.

It was a map. A map of the Green Moon, if you weren’t mistaken. A map of the Green Moon with coordinates and a circled area. 

“Dad didn’t have the only copy of the map,” Cee told you, looking between you and Ezra. “I have one too.” 

Time stood still. You were frozen. You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Just stared at the map. And then, slowly, you looked at Ezra. The look on his face scared you, just a little. He looked… well, he looked like a prospector presented with a map to possibly the biggest haul of aurelac ever seen. Hungry and greedy and a little awestruck. 

“Tomorrow,” you decided, shaking your head and putting your hand flat over the map, breaking the spell on the room. “That is now a tomorrow problem. We have more immediate problems to figure out first.” You shot Ezra a look that just dared him to disagree with you. But he simply nodded, leaning back, unwilling to argue over it. 

Good. You had enough problems for today that you needed to tackle. One last deep breath, and you left the two of them so you could start sending out messages. Today problems first. You could tackle the map problem tomorrow. Or later, if you could manage it. For today, Cee was your priority.

[danny-chase]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson Characters: Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon (momentarily), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Stephanie Brown POV, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Chocolate Milk, post mission talks, Damian Wayne is a brat with a heart of gold, Stitches, Canon Typical Violence, but not for long, because i like fluff better, Fluff, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Batman, Damian Wayne is Robin, Sneezing, Coughing, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's almost parent, Stephanie Brown is Damian Wayne's almost big sister, And kind of Dick's little sister Summary:

Steph hasn't worked with the new Batman and Robin duo long, but she doesn't hesitate to come when they call for backup. Their family's a little rough around the edges, but she'll do what she can to smooth things out.

“C’mon, faster!” Stephanie hated when Barbara seemed anxious, when she was anxious, generally something was about to go wrong. Really, really, wrong.

 “I’m homing in on the coordinates.” Barbara was driving on autopilot, but she couldn’t resist saying the line. Damian’s tracker blinked closer and closer. The kid had run off earlier that night, Dick, however, was getting better at predicting when it would happen and followed. She’d been on call for backup, Damian needed space, but he was also a magnet for trouble and unfortunately for them-

“Robin retreat! Retreat! Get out of here!” Dick screamed over the comms. The kid shouldn’t be out in the first place, still recovering from a concussion. She rounded the corner. Victor Zsasz was pushing forward aggressively trying to circumvent Batman to get a stab at Robin. Dick was holding his own but kept taking hits for a dazed looking Damian.

“Get Robin and get out! Maneuver 23.” Barbara commanded. She was seconds away, Zsasz was too close, she wasn’t going to make it, not going to make it-

 “CATCH!” She complied, automatically responding to Barbara’s harsh tone, spreading her arms as the bike swerved right.

 “JUMP!” Damian appeared to do the same with Dick, who tackled Zsasz out of range.

 “FUCK!” She yelled, because Damian jumped right into the path of her oncoming bike and-

 They grasped each other’s wrists in a practiced motion, using momentum to swing Damian onto the backseat of the bike.

 “Holy fuck.” She whispered. Hadn’t expected that to work. Sure, they’d done it a billion times practicing, but like… damn. That was freaking awesome. But also-

 “Are you okay?” She turned to look back at a pale Damian, blood staining the right side of his uniform. He nodded curtly, she could see a sheen of sweat glistening under the streetlights. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts.

 “We cannot retreat, Batman needs backup! Turn around at once!” He demanded, swaying in his spot. On a motorcycle. She might die for this, but she turned around, pulled him closer (surprisingly without argument) and started applying pressure to his side. One hand on the wound, the other keeping him propped upright. Maybe she would die, but Damian would fall off over her dead body.

 “Yeah no, I’m just gonna try to keep your blood on the inside till we get to the Bunker.” She felt a raindrop plop on her forehead, all the more reason to keep on course. Damian was already injured and tired, she would not be the one responsible for making his situation worse. “Then you can bleed out in peace.”

   Stephanie sighed as she swirled milk and cocoa together on the stove, rain pattering steadily outside. Where would she be if she’d had a normal father, or a normal life? She had a standing invite to some party; she could be out with friends. But some little gremlin child would have been murdered by Zsasz blocks away and no. She wouldn’t trade Damian’s life for normality. She was Stephanie Brown after all, abnormal was her middle name, and she accepted it with pride.

 Sure, she wasn’t mixing alcoholic drinks right now, but she was mixing chocolate milk and that was close enough. Damian clomped up the stairs, and angrily settled at the table. Think of the gremlin, and he shall appear.

 “You shouldn’t have retreated.” He muttered, slumping in the seat. His cheeks were already flush from the exertion of walking up the steps.

 “And you should go to bed.” He glared at her, looking utterly nonthreatening in his pajamas. He was wearing one of Dick’s old t-shirts, oversized, draping down past his elbows. He must have his own clothes, but she’d never seen him sleep in anything else.

 “Then why are you preparing two mugs of hot chocolate?” He asked smugly. Well, as smugly as he could with twelve stitches in his side.

 “Because I know you won’t listen to me.” The grin was replaced with a frown. “But I don’t mind, that’s why I made enough for two.” She quickly continued. Damian stared ahead at a place on the table. She weighed her next words. They both knew fully well that he wouldn’t sleep until Dick made it home in one piece, and for that matter that she would either. Leaving Damian alone with his thoughts seemed cruel under the circumstances.

“You didn’t listen to me earlier.” He accused agitatedly, breaking the silence.

 “I don’t make a habit of listening to Robins.” She said with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood. She carefully poured the steaming cocoa into the mugs, keenly aware of Damian’s eyes following her every move.

 “You listen to Gordon.” He pouted. She placed a mug in front of him and sat down across from him.

 “Most of the time, and she’s not a Robin. I don’t listen to you, Tim, or Dick, and certainly not Jason.”

 “Why not?” He challenged, not making a move to touch his mug, still glaring at her with a dark expression on his face. “You were a Robin, were you not? You think you’re above us-”

 “No, Dames, you gotta read the situation you know?” She took a long sip of cocoa. Damian crossed his arms. She sighed. “Look, if we always listened to Dick, he’d be dead already.” He nodded carefully. “Same thing with you and Tim.” His nose scrunched at the mention of Tim.

 “Don’t compare me to-”

 “Whatever it is, I’m not, I’m just saying, I’d be a lot happier if you weren’t shish kabobbed by Zsasz.” His brow furrowed. “Okay fine, I messed up, you probably would have been fine. We shouldn’t have retreated. But you were down, and we made a judgement call – not just me, Dick would rather die than-” Damian’s eyes went wide. “Poor choice of words, I take it back. He’s not going to die, he just…” God, what was she doing? What was she even trying to say?

 “I know you’re not worried, because you’re you, but if I was you, I would be worried, but I shouldn’t be worried, because Dick’s a badass, so he’ll be fine, and knowing that you’re safe will help him stay focused on the fight. So you’re helping by staying right here, yeah?” She leaned back against the seat. Smooth, real smooth.

 Damian’s lips were pursed by the end of her rambling. “I’m not worried.” She heard him mumble under his breath. He took a sip of cocoa. “Grayson is a competent fighter; he would not be so easily defeated.” She pretended not to hear his voice wobble slightly at the end. The poor kid.

 “He’ll be home any minute now.” She assured.

 “And he’ll yell at you for not making enough for him.” He added sagely.

 “Then he’ll yell at you for not being in bed.” Damian rolled his eyes.

 “I shall already be in bed by the time he makes it up the stairs.” So confident in his abilities. Dick probably let him think he got away with it.

 “Well, then he’ll anxiously pace outside of your room, and peak in to fuss over your stiches.” She predicted. Damian snorted, and took another sip of cocoa.

 “Damian, you could have been seriously hurt, you’ve got to be more careful!” He perfectly imitated Dick’s voice. Steph had to fight back laughter and swallow her cocoa. “Why did you give him sugar, it’s his bedtime?” He directed at her.

 “Robin, cease with the hot chocolate immediately.” She croaked out in a gravelly Batman impression.

 “Holy hot chocolate Batman!” Stephanie lost it as he did a perfect impression of Dick’s normal voice. Damian allowed himself a small smile.

 “Oh my God, you have to teach me how to do that.”

 “Are you sure you have the talent for it?” He asked smugly. She brushed off the comment. Smug Damian was better than sad and worried Damian.

 “Sure, also can you do Scooby-Doo?” Damian’s brow furrowed.

 “Who?”

 “What do you mean who!?” She half yelled. Damian flinched. “Okay, since we’re already up, you’re getting an education tonight, we’re moving to the couch, let’s go, move it people.”

   Two episodes later, Damian’s wide eyes still looked through the screen rather than at it. Not all things, she supposed, could be fixed with dumb cartoons and hot chocolate.

 “Brown?” He softly spoke, as the credits played.

 “Mm?” Silence resounded through the room. Whatever question Damian had died in his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute, he’s probably overseeing the trip to Arkham.” She guessed.

 “Yes.” Another pause. “He’ll be upset when he arrives home.”

 “He won’t be too upset.” Damian tucked his knees to his chest. “Everyone made it home safe.”

 “Father would have been angry.” She couldn’t deny that. Bruce was, well, Bruce.

 “But Dick isn’t Bruce.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment. “He was Robin too once, you know?” Dick got mad, heck, he killed the Joker like three days after she first met him. He’d been upset with her, for being Batgirl, but his anger wasn’t like Bruce’s, and it hadn’t lasted for long.

 “I know.” He turned to face her on the couch. “He’ll say he’s disappointed.”

 “Ah.” Her heart melted. “That’s always worse.” Damian rolled his eyes.

 “I’ve had worse punishments.” He paused. Damn the League. “But it’s… different.” Steph could sympathize.

 “My dad used to lock me in closets when he was mad.” Damian nodded.

 “I would too.” She groaned. Sometimes she was trying to have meaningful heartfelt conversations with a ten-year-old.

 “Brat. I’m trying to have a moment.” She complained. He fell silent, shrugging his shoulders, possibly as an attempt at an apology. “The point being my mom was always disappointed. And just because one sucked more than the other, didn’t mean both didn’t suck.”

 “Hmm.” Damian leaned back against the pillows. “But I had to do something, he was,” he paled slightly, his eyes widening, “Zsasz was going to kill children again.” He looked at her earnestly. “I couldn’t let him-”

 “Look, no one’s mad at you for trying to do something good. It’s just like… we worry about you, okay?” Damian rolled his eyes again.

 “No need I’m-”

 “You’re staying up until Dick gets back, want to remind me why that is?” He turned to face the rain smeared window. “It’s the same for him, and the same for me. We worry about you too, okay?”

 “You shouldn’t.” Damian muttered. “I’m perfectly capable on my own, I’m trained in twenty-”

 “Doesn’t matter how trained you are if you’re concussed.” She pointed out.

 “It didn’t matter if I was concussed in the League.” Assholes.

 “Well, this isn’t the League, and we care if you’re concussed.”

 “Whatever.” He fell silent after, gluing his eyes back to the screen in an attempt to block her out.

 “Just, let me know next time, and I’ll come with you.” Maybe she was imagining it, but she caught a minute nod.

 Carefully, she reached out, projecting her moves, and ruffled his hair. He didn’t seem much happier, some of the tension bled out of his shoulders. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever mediocre amount of comfort she could supply would have to be enough. She leaned back into her end of the couch, content to sit in silent companionship and let her mind wander off, no longer focused on the cartoon, but on a family forged in chaos.

   “M’ere bud, time for bed.” Someone whispered to her right. Cracking open her eyes slowly, the time on the television box read 3:28. Damian groggily groaned in protest next to her. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the vague outline of Dick sweeping a tired Damian (who was clearly feigning sleep) into his arms. “You should get some sleep too.” He hissed at her, as his footsteps padded away.

 She stretched out on the couch, four hours of sleep, that wasn’t too bad, but her neck was definitely stiff after that. She groaned, turning on the lamp next to her, shutting her eyes again and slowly allowing them to adjust to the light. Dick popped his head back into the doorway.

 “You need anything? The guest room has some spare clothes in your size, we have extra toothbrushes, you can use my shampoo if you want.” He rambled off. It was strange, she could never tell if he was being nice to make up for his initial rejection, or if that was just how he was.

 “Don’t be too hard on Damian.” She curled into her spot on the couch. Dick stepped forward into view, leaning against the doorframe. A pink bathrobe was draped over his shoulder, his wet hair dripping. He tiredly sunk against the wall.

 “I won’t be.” He slid into a squat, then all the way down to the floor. “Was he mad I followed him?”

 “Probably. I think he was more worried you wouldn’t come home.” Damian’s last experience with Zsasz had been… unpleasant. And the villain had carried a grudge ever since.

 “Oh. Sorry it took so long, Alfred kick you guys to bed or something?” She nodded. They’d been whisked out of the command room before she’d hardly tugged off her cape. No doubt Damian would have tried to leave again if they’d been listening on the comms.

 “You’re okay?” It was so weird. She was sitting on a couch, talking down to a cowl-less Batman in a pink bathrobe, sitting on the floor.

 “Fit as a fiddle.” He sneezed, as if on cue.

 “It’s raining pretty hard.” Her eyes flicked towards the window.

 “You don’t say.” He deadpanned, following her gaze. “It let up about an hour ago. Zsasz is back and Arkham, we found the kids he grabbed, I was trying to track down any relatives.” She nodded, Gotham’s foster care system was abysmal, and the social workers overbooked. Finding relatives could save a kid from ending up in a supervillain’s lair.

 “All’s well that ends well.” Dick sneezed again. “I could have helped.”

 “Babs and I had it under control.” She rolled her eyes, typical of the ‘big kids’ to leave her in the kiddies room. “Thank you for watching him.” He nodded at the empty mugs. “It was sweet of you to stick around.” Warmth swelled in her chest at the remark, she didn’t need his approval of course, but it was nice to have it.

 “Yeah well, cut him some slack for me yeah?” He opened his mouth to reply, then paused to cough for a bit.

 “I won’t be hard on him, but no patrol until his stiches heal.” He assured, regaining his composure.

 “I’m sure you won’t patrol until your cold’s passed.” She commented sarcastically. It would do the boys good to spend some time together anyways.

 “Did Babs put you up to this? I-”, sneeze, “told her I was fine. You guys are worse than Alfred.”

 “Nope.” She popped the p. “But I think your kid might feel a little bit guilty about tonight, and it wouldn’t hurt to stay in with him.”

 “He’s not my…” Dick stared up at the ceiling. Tucking his knees up to his chin, just the same as Damian, he went silent.

 “He’s your kid.” She said after a moment. Dick smiled ruefully.

 “He’s your kid too.” She snorted. He was like the little brother she’d never had, not that she’d admit it.

 “Not a chance, he’s all yours and Alfred’s. Babs and I don’t work with minors.” Aside from the times she had.

 “Mmmhmm. So that’s why you were drinking hot chocolate and watching cartoons with him, because he’s not your kid. I guess you don’t think of him as family” He sighed. “And to think, I was going to bring you to the aquarium with us tomorrow, but if we aren’t your family then why even-”

 “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go that far, I want to see him next to penguins-er I mean, I want to see the uhh... You know what nope, not ashamed, I want to see the look on his face at the touch tank.” She paused. “Aren’t you rewarding bad behavior with that though?”

 “Well, don’t worry about it, he’s my kid after all.” He chided smugly. “In all seriousness, I just want to distract him long enough he doesn’t go out again.” Another sneeze. “Jeez, stupid rain. Also, Babs is coming, it’s a party.”

 “You’re sure he won’t see it as a reward?” She wasn’t taking children’s psychology for nothing after all.

 “Nah, knowing him, he might take it as a punishment.” He closed his eyes, leaning back into the frame. “But, I try to keep capes and normal life separate, he’ll be grounded from patrol, but I won’t ground him during the day for stuff he pulls at night.” That seemed reasonable. “He’s been doing really well with homeschool.” He opened his eyes again, looking fondly at the opposite doorframe. “I think he’ll really like the aquarium, he’s been studying aquatic life recently and-”

 Dick mumbled on for a while, listing all Damian’s accomplishments, how he was multiple grade levels ahead, and scoring well in all the classes they made for him. How he could go on to do anything he wanted, was on track to take college courses by the time he was in high school, and how bright his future was. Again, she was glad her life wasn’t normal, as he rambled on and on, pride shining on his face.

 “He’s so your kid.” She interrupted after a coughing fit, having lost track of the conversation. Dick blinked at her. “Bedtime.” He nodded, sneezing halfway through.

 “Bedtime.”

  They didn’t make it to the aquarium, as predictably, Dick was running a fever by the morning. But that didn’t stop the party. Barbara brought soup, Alfred made cookies, and Steph settled on the couch next to Damian, picking up where they left off, marathoning Scooby Doo.

 Dick picked apart the episodes from his isolated recliner (they quarantined him three feet away), Damian chiming in to predict the villain’s identity. Barbara grumbled about normal people being easier to watch TV with, and Alfred settled in a chair by the door. If Cass were here, she’d bounce off the walls, and Tim would lie on the floor. Pieces were broken and missing, but as the remaining members of her pseudo-family chattered away, she had hope that things, eventually, would work out.

[queenlua]

Ace Attorney case tier list

so, in the past year, i finished replaying games 1 through 5 for the first time in forever, and also played game 6 for the first time ever

so here’s where i ruthlessly rank each of the cases based on that most scientific metric of all, My Opinions:

OPENING CASES

S-tier: Turnabout Trump (4-1).  I already knew this case, and I still gasped with surprise when Phoenix showed up, and when Kristoph showed his true colors, and when Apollo realized OH SHIT OH FUCK I REALLY AM ACCUSING MY BOSS OF MURDER HUH... what a wonderful, splashy, shockingly concise case to open up the post-O.G. trilogy world.  Marvelous.

A-tier: Turnabout Memories (3-1).  Seeing Mia Fey (finally!) in action is a long-awaited delight; seeing Phoenix being a total dumbass was an unexpected-yet-perfect and fitting delight.

B-tier: The First Turnabout (1-1).  Solid lil’ case with some conventional-but-well-executed humor.  I’ve got a soft spot for Larry Butz.

C-tier: The Lost Turnabout (2-1), The Foreign Turnabout (6-1).  The former’s fine but a little forgettable; the latter has some fun gags (Payne’s ridiculous new outfit, dude absolutely shredding on the mandolin, etc) but is marred by how uh... kinda silly the game’s core conceit is, lol

E-tier: Turnabout Countdown (5-1).  The context surrounding this introduction is just sloppy (badly handled in media res + let’s lowkey retcon game 4 isn’t a great setup), and also the case itself is just. irksome. ted tonate is just fundamentally irritating to look at

FINALE CASES

S-tier: Bridge to the Turnabout (3-5), Turnabout Goodbyes (1-4).  No explanation needed.  God they fuck so hard

A-tier: The Cosmic Turnabout + Turnabout for Tomorrow (5-4 + 5-5), Turnabout Succession (4-4).

The former two cases are what makes AA5 worth it, and they make for a tremendously fun ride.  It fumbles the execution in some notable ways (Apollo’s sudden j’accuse moment feels a little forced/awkward/inadequately foreshadowed, and damn it sure would’ve been nice to know Clay Terran at all before he died, and also The Phantom’s final meltdown could’ve used a bit more emotional heft)... but okay let’s be real, I’m here for Simon Blackquill, and this case gives me so much of him so who gives a shit.  (And Aura!  Condescending obnoxious engineering queen!  I love her!)  

As for Turnabout Succession... while I earnestly wish the game had explored more of Klavier’s feelings about this whole setup, and some more emotional beats for Apollo, the case still makes for such a satisfyingly twisty and fun investigation overall (the poison stamp! what a ridiculous murder method! I love it!) that it’s a more-than-worthy finale.

B-tier: Turnabout Revolution (6-5), Farewell, My Turnabout (2-4).

The former does some cool stuff—I particularly like the opening half, where Apollo’s being real snippy and coping with Frankly Bizarre Dad Feelings, and giving Apollo a chance to finally throw down against Phoenix is a blast.  The latter half of the case starts feeling a little... ridiculous? cramped? idk? like, they didn’t do nearly enough foreshadowing about Nahyuta’s whole deal for me to care about his drama, this justice system is so obviously silly and the manner in which the revolution is playing out strains my already-suspended-sky-high disbelief... fun, and flashy, but more noise than signal in the last part, I guess.

As for Farewell, My Turnabout: of course I love Edgeworth rolling back into court goin’ through SOME kind of bizarre emotional arc of Hey I’m Totally Healed Now and obnoxiously preaching about Truth TM.  And it’s cool that the game set up a case where you want to lose.  But the net result is a bit strange tonally—it’s trying set up some kind of message about It’s Not Just About Winning, It’s About Pursuing The Truth, but it feels really muddled when that’s combined with Okay But Maya’s Literally Being Held Hostage Like Right Now, Surely A Reasonable Justice System Has A Process For Dealing With This Obviously Complicated Situation, Right?

but also Franziska takes a fucking bullet (how did I forget about that) and then gets to roll in like Ms. Save The Day so, really, lots of good shit here

FILLER CASES

S-tier: Reunion, and Turnabout (2-2), Turnabout Beginnings (3-4).  Look, the first one gives me all the Fey family drama a girl could ask for, and the latter gives me young Edgeworth being a total shit in an obnoxiously shimmery outfit.  The whole enchilada is here

A+ tier: The Magical Turnabout (6-2).  DELIGHTFUL!  MAGICIAN!  SHENANIGANS!  Like you get to guess the trick behind a magic act as part of the case, how fucking fun is that, and also the Apollo & Athena duo’s chemistry is perfect, the villain is a FANTASTIC bastard, and even the bit characters you meet during the investigation are total delights... Probably the best “standalone” case in the series, in that it doesn’t rely on any emotional connections to previous cases (unlike 2-2 and 3-4) to still totally and completely rule.

A tier: Turnabout Samurai (1-3), Turnabout Reclaimed (5-DLC).

For Turnabout Samurai, I remembered before this replay how delightful the TV SHOW STUDIO investigation and actor-fandom stuff was; I had TOTALLY forgotten Vasquez calling in her mob connections to try and wreck you.  What a fantastic villain; what a fun case.

Turnabout Reclaimed is just good solid goofy nonsense.  Probably receives a boost for me in particular because, yeah, Simon Blackquill.  But then again who isn’t giving cases a boost on that account; they are MISSING OUT

B tier: The Stolen Turnabout (3-2).  Ron and Desirée are so great sighs into hands

C tier: Listing roughly in order of preference: Turnabout Academy (5-3), Turnabout Serenade (4-3), Turnabout Sisters (1-2), Recipe for a Turnabout (3-3), Rite of the Turnabout (6-3), Rise from the Ashes (1-5).

Four of these (5-3, 4-3, 1-2, 3-3) are perfectly solid cases; I just don’t love them quite as much as “thievery hijinks” or “Hollywood hijinks” or other such particularly delightful flavors.  Everyone has a favorite flavor of Jolly Rancher and all that.

Rite of the Turnabout is interesting and connected with the larger themes of the game in a cool way, and makes good use of the divination mechanic.  However, the last bit gets twisty enough to actually be kind of confusing, and said larger themes of the game are... kinda hard for me to take seriously... which, yeah, leads to it feeling a little stilted when it really should be singing.

Rise from the Ashes landed awkwardly for me.  I know it was added well after the first game’s release, and it does a good job of continuing some of the cool stuff from that game—it’s neat, in isolation, to see Phoenix and Edgeworth working together (while still sniping at each other!), and some of the DS-specific mechanics are neat.  However, I just didn’t feel like I learned quite enough about Ema and Lana to care about them like I should, and retconning “(almost certainly true) rumors that Edgeworth was involved in Shady Shit TM” into “actually Edgeworth was totally ignorant of Shady Shit TM, like at worst his crime was willful ignorance / incuriosity, he was just been manipulated by the Police Chief”... makes Edgeworth less interesting to me!  Like, it’s cool to see Edgeworth caught off-guard and under pressure, but I wish the circumstances had been different?  Also Gant’s theme song is annoying as shit, which is petty but hey this is my blog post so

D tier: Turnabout Storyteller (6-4), Turnabout Corner (4-2), Turnabout Big Top (2-3), The Monstrous Turnabout (5-2).

Turnabout Storyteller has some fun gags with My Dude Simon and also Taka, but was heavily marred by Everyone Talking Down To Athena The Entire Fucking Case Oh My God Can You All Just Shut Up.

Turnabout Corner has... lots of fun elements but... look the fucking stolen-panties setup just grates ok

I don’t think I hate Turnabout Big Top the way most people seem to, but I did find the final murder setup more annoying that I remembered this playthrough—bro you were really sure the dude was going to conveniently stand right there and the heavy statue was definitely going to strike a killing blow and not just give the guy a concussion?  ok lol

The Monstrous Turnabout suffers mostly from poor puzzle/investigation design, being too hand-hold-y, and also having a core gimmick/setting that just wasn’t really my thing.  Alas!

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (32)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

When you make a deal, you have to make sure that both parties respect their share. usually that’s the case, but sometimes some people decide to... play differently. And when it starts to play differently, to play personal ... The finality is never good. Often, the one who wants to betray the other ends badly, sometimes it’s the one who respects who ends badly and sometimes both suffer. In Danny's case, he knows that the deal will be respected between the two of you.

He knows perfectly well that you will respect your share of the deal. And he's going to respect his own. He would have liked to wait a little longer before revealing everything to you but... it seems that fate has speed things up. It doesn't bother him that much, it's just a shame that it happens so early. With what he told you once your deal was made... You will not dare to betray him.

* I didn't have, and I don't really want to know YOUR world. * You said with disgust.  

* No one wants to enter in it sweetheart. But one day or another, you end up getting into it, one way or another. But on the other hand, if I may say so, it would be better for both of us if Jed were not aware of it. Imagine the disappointment he would have, if he learned that his little treasure collaborated with a murderer! Me in addition, the assassin of Roseville. * Danny said tragically ironic.

* He'll know! I cannot lie to him and betray all the trust he has in me! He knows it when I'm not well, he...*

*Listen, Honey. You have an interest, that your nerdy boyfriend doesn’t know anything about what’s happening between us. Because if he ever learns it, not only does your little couple stop before it has really started... but in addition your two lives will stop too. For I would no longer keep my promise to leave him alive. And so do you. Did I make myself understood correctly? * Replied Danny, taking your face by the chin with one hand. He released you when you nod. *Good. You have all the cards in hand, and two lives. Let's see if you get to the end of the game. *

If with this you dare not keep your word, either you be stupid or suicidal. Or both. Today, you will both visit the apartment that is above yours. The perspective to share the same roof with you, delights him and annoys him a little. He is delighted to be able to live with you, to no longer be forced to go to your apartment, even if you are right next door, to see you. And at least, no more problem knowing who will end up in the other's bed, you will have your room for both of you.

But it also annoys him because necessarily, who says to live together ... means that you could, driven by curiosity, enter his office, and discover everything. Oh of course you'll know, when he will tell you everything, when he will finally show his face, but if you could wait until Hoggins is dead... it would suit him. He's going to have to work out a couple of things with you. Just like you will surely do with him! But apart from leave you a little privacy and don’t dig into your wardrobe ... He doesn’t know what you could ask him.

He was waiting for you outside the door of the apartment, Mr Lawson having given the keys to visit while waiting for him to arrive. The poor man had to take care of his wife who was bedridden because of a flu. Poor woman. She was always kind to Danny, always worried about whether he had everything he needed to not get sick, and to treat himself if needed. She was a kind of maternal figure for Danny involuntarily. The mom he wished he had... When he saw you arrive, he displayed his angelic smile, and took you in his arms to kiss you.

“Mr Lawson will be there in a few minutes, his wife is sick so he takes care of her a little, but he gave me the keys to visit the apartment already. We'll see for the work after when he’ll be there.” he said, looking at you softly.  

“Poor woman...I hope she’ll be better soon.” you simply said.  

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! It’s just... I'm a little stressed with everything that's happening to me right now... the festival, the fact that we move in together. I feel like I'm going to have a hard time managing all of this all at once.”

“That’s why I'm here, sweety. think of the festival, I will take care of the apartment. And don't worry, it doesn't bother me. Ready?”

You nod and Danny opened the door to the apartment. He let you pass so that you would not see the sneaky little smile that was looming on his lips. When you want, you know how to lie. Just give you some motivation for. The apartment was rather comfortable, it will be even more so when the furniture will be there, but it’s comfortable. There were quite a few pieces, including one that could serve as an office for Danny. That he will lock of course. He will have to think about scotching his boxes well too... The bedroom was a little larger than the others, two wardrobes being on either side of the wall where the bed will be.  

“It's pretty here... I don’t see any particular problem at the level of the works apart from redoing the paintings to our tastes.” You said, looking all around the room.  

“For now. But it’s better to look carefully. You never know, there can be electrical problems... or water leaks.” responds Danny, before noticing a few holes in the wall of one of the wardrobes. “See?”  

“OK. we're going to do each room and we're going to write down what's wrong.”

Together you inspect all the rooms of the apartment and gradually write down everything that was wrong. There were the holes in one of the wardrobes in the bedroom, a plug that does not work in the living room and another in the kitchen, a slight water leak in the bathroom at the sink and finally a slightly damaged floor in Danny's future office. Mr. Lawson arrived a few minutes later, his wife took a nap after eating a little. Danny explained all the problems there were, the old man assuring him that every problem will be solved and that you can move in safely.

You all leave the apartment and Mr. Lawson warns Danny that he will start work as soon as his wife is better. Danny replied that if he had to, he would take care of the work, he would just need the equipment. Once Mr. Lawson left, Danny turned to you to take you in his arms.

“Do you have something planned for today? We could take the opportunity to take a little tour …" asks Danny.

“We could... But I had planned to see with Corey and Amy to start making this cake for the city festival.” you respond.

“You’ve got two weeks for that...”

“And I've got all my life for you.”  

Danny smiled before hearing his phone ringing. It was Wilhelm. What did he want from him?

“Inspector?” said Danny.

“Olsen. We caught the man who was talking with Hoggins. It’s better for you if you’re there for the interrogation. That way, you will have the info directly at the source.” responds Wilhelm.  

“I arrive immediately inspector.” replied Danny before hanging up. “Sorry love. I've to go. Wilhelm stopped the man who was with Hoggins three days before his argument with McKellan. He wants me to be there to record the news.”

“Good luck then. This kind of guy doesn't speak so easily. And there's a good chance he'll say anything.” you said with a smile.  

“You know Wilhelm is maybe an asshole... but he is very good at making someone speak during an interrogation. He has.... very good arguments. See you later honey.”

Danny set out for the police station. It’s still surprising that Wilhelm called him. In a sense, it will actually be able to collect the information directly at the source. And in the other, Wilhelm will not have to tell him. Surely that’s why he called. So that he doesn't bother repeating everything to Danny. What a lazy ass. Danny arrived at the police station, presented himself to the policeman of the reception who pointed to him the interrogation room where Wilhelm and the man were. He knocked on the door and entered when the inspector gave him permission.

“Wilhelm.” said Danny.

“Olsen." Responds Wilhelm.

“He said something?”

“We haven’t started the interrogation. But you can already take notes on his file. We know him. This is not the first time he has been arrested.”

“it's surprising that you called me by the way. Knowing that we can't stand each other.”

“True. But it's... urgh, it’s thanks to you that we managed to catch this guy. So, I give you back the device by allowing you to attend the interrogation for your newspaper article. But I warn you Olsen. This is the first and last time. Don’t hope that this happens again.”

“You are too kind. I can't wait to see what I can get out of it.”

Wilhelm sighed before heading to the other part of the interrogation room, where the man was. He had everything from a notorious drug dealer. He looked elsewhere, swinging a little back and forth, a typical symptom of a slight lack of drugs.

“Devon. What a surprise. It’s...the fifth time maybe from the beginning of the month? You try to beat a record?” said Wilhelm, sitting in front of the man.

“Shut up Wilhelm.” Responds Devon.  

“Oh. Usually, you are more... aggressive with me from the start. Sometimes I don't even have time to sit down that I'm already on the verge of breaking your mouth. What happens to you, are you sick?”

“Go straight to the point, dirty cop asshole, why am I here? I have not sold any drugs today. And I made no one shit.”

“Ah, there I find my Devon.” replied Wilhelm before showing the picture Danny took. “Surely you're aware that Horace McKellan is dead huh? You surely also know that Hoggins threatened him 3 days before his death. Well, this little picture was taken a few days before the threats. You're very photogenic tell me, I love your profile face.”

“What’s the report?” asks coldly Devon.  

“I want to know what you were talking about with Hoggins on the day of this photo. And I advise you not to play asshole with me. Because if I ever find the slightest trace of your passage at McKellan's house, it’s life imprisonment that you will take as a sentence. I am sure that your mother will be heartbroken.”

“Leave my mom f***ing alone!”  

“So tell me everything you know! And I assure you that we will try to arrange your sentence according to your participation in this crime.”  

Devon looks at the photo, slightly biting his tongue before blowing and facing Wilhelm.

“Hoggins was furious on the phone. He asked me to come and see him that day. He thought that his associate had betrayed him in relation to this scandal to save himself the balls. He wanted... He wanted to hire me to take care of him. He said to me, and I quote: This bastard is going to fuck everything up! He MUST disappear! and YOU will take care of it. He was willing to pay me $2,000,000 for it. I refused. ” he explains.

“With such a price you refused to kill? You will understand that I find it hard to believe.” said Wilhelm looking at Danny on the other side of the tinted glass.

“You may think what you want from me Wilhelm, drugged, failed, waste of society, but I'm not a f***ing killer. I left, telling him that I couldn’t kill a man who did nothing to me. He told me nothing. And 6 days later I learn that McKellan is dead. I told myself that he had finally found a guy crazy enough to do the job.”

Danny carefully noted everything Devon was saying, holding back from smiling. That's exactly what he needed to hear. And this will make the rest of his plan even more delectable. Hoggins is good for prison... unless Danny kills him before. Which, of course, is going to be the case in 2 weeks. Your name is going to be cursed over several generations Hoggins, you're screwed.

“He contacted you again after that?” asks Wilhelm.

“No. I didn't hear from him... until recently. He contacted me because he wanted to offer me another job. But when I arrived, he was irritated.” responds Devon.  

“Why?”  

“Two journalists from the Roseville Gazette, including one whose name was...how did he tell me already? Olsen, I think, came to interview him in relation to all this.”

Danny suddenly raised his head. Devon was therefore the famous important appointment that Hoggins had and that pushed him to shorten the interview. Why strangely it didn't shock him?

“What did he say?” Continues Wilhelm.

“At first, when I got him on the phone, he wanted us to discuss the drug business. But when I arrived, he got upset because this Olsen had provoked him on a bunch of stuff. I told him that it was the journalists, that it was normal for them to do this kind of practice. But he was so irritated that he didn't even hear that. What he made him shit the most was that this guy, Olsen, was dating a girl that Hoggins called "his bird of paradise". That it was out of the question for a "parasite" like Olsen to put his dirty paws on her. He told me that the girl in question was the boss of Nebula, the café that opened recently.”

Danny's blood only made one turn. Being called parasite, he didn’t care completely. But this dirty big pig, dares to consider you as HIS property? It's too much. You are only HIS and His ALONE.

“He told you something else?” Wilhelm said.

“He wanted me to go and scare this girl to leave Olsen. Nothing very nasty in itself. But here too I refused. I just want to do my business quietly, that's all.”

Wilhelm nod and leave the room to discuss with the other officers. Danny had stood back, pretending to reread his notes. With rage in his stomach, he thought of only one thing; Kill Hoggins. And it could happen faster than he had anticipated.

If Hoggins wants to play this game, if Hoggins is looking for war... He found it.

Unfortunately for him, he attacks the wrong person.

And he’s gonna pay for it.  

***

(And it’s done! Summer Vacation is coming and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as you can! In this period of pandemic which unfortunately forced us to deprive ourselves of some things such as outings with friends and others, it’s time for all of us to enjoy this summer while remaining alert, hoping that it is finally over. I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)

[kireii-writes]

pairing(s): reader x chisaki kai (overhaul)

fandom: BNHA 

warning(s): swearing, mentions of blood, yakuza, violence, mentions of torture, mentions of death, kidnapping, murder, mentions of drugs, au where everyone is a normal human with no quirks whatsoever , badass reader

-

summary: in which y/n is a young yakuza leader who one day caught the attention of the leader of their rival gang, chisaki kai. 

-

The heavy stench of smoke hung in the air as you blew out another puff, dead eyes looking out of the glass windows and into the night skyline. Shiny, you thought. the night view of this city was dazzling- but at the same time, dangerous and deceptive. just like the life you’re currently living. Taking in another deep puff, you let out a deep sigh, along with the smoke that dissipated into the air. gone, but not quite. How long has it been since you’ve stepped into the world of the yakuza? For as long as you remembered, your father had always been the one in charge of the yakuza while you- his precious child, lived a life away from the dark and grim world of the yakuza. It has always been that way, until that one day when your father was taken away from this life, five years ago. Shot by a rival gang, didn’t make it in time. That was what you were told. Naturally, the next-in-line would be you. It was one thing to see and hear stories of the yakuza, but overseeing the entire organization was another.

Two gentle yet firm knocks interrupted your train of thoughts, and a stream of white light trickled into the dark room as the door opened. 

“Boss,” a rough voice called out. 

“They got him.”

It was the third time this week. The third time one of your underlings have been killed. This time, it was a new recruit. Sighing to yourself, you stubbed out the cigarette that rested in a delicate balance between your fingers. You can never have a day of peace as a yakuza leader. Pushing yourself up from the plush sofa that occupied the middle of the huge room, you involuntarily let out another deep sigh as you made your way out, the clacking sound of the heels of your shoes on the hard floor echoing through the hallways. 

“... Found dead in an alleyway, he was most likely beaten to death by a bunch of them.” You were informed as you looked down at the poor boy’s cold and lifeless body, his wide and sunken eyes stained with tears seemed to bore into your cold, emotionless ones. His dead eyes reflected the fluorescent light above but no matter how the lights flickered above him, he never flinched. His once pale skin was now covered with cuts and bruises blooming all over his paper skin like deadly flowers. Part of you felt apologetic- the teen had joined the yakuza because he had nowhere else to turn to. He had pledged his remaining life to you and the organization, only to have his troubled life cut short by a rival gang. 

“Boss, don’t you think this is getting a little out of hand?” Your lackey commented. “If this goes on, everyone’s going to think we’re pushovers. Let me bring a few men, and we’ll teach those punks a lesson or two.” Involuntarily, you closed your eyes, as if in attempt to drown out the pounding headache that was creeping in. 

You had to say something- anything. But what? When you were first appointed as the next leader, half of your late father’s followers were unhappy. They didn’t see you as a leader. Instead, all they saw was a sheltered child who didn’t deserve the title of ‘boss’. You knew that was going to happen, which was why you worked your ass off to prove that you were capable of running the yakuza on your own. You have your father’s blood running through your veins, of course you were capable of running the yakuza. Slowly but surely, many of them started to respect your hard work and dedication and began to acknowledge you as their new leader. However, there were still some of them lurking in the shadows who would wait for the time where you fail and use it to strip you of your title. It was at times like these where you had to make the right decision. one wrong move and you could be toppled in an instant. Feelings of irritation and frustration bubbled up inside you as every pair of eyes were on you at that moment, awaiting your next order. Lighting the cigarette between your lips, you blew out a puff of smoke as you made your next decision. 

“No,” your command settled onto your followers, and immediately hushed whispers filled the room. “We wait. If we blow things up now, there’s no knowing what will happen next. The Shie Hassaikai is one of the most influential gangs among us. Picking a fight with them would be the last thing you want to do.” 

“But the boy’s the third victim this week! If this goes on, they’ll soon climb over our heads!” the same lackey argued. “Sure, they may be influential, but we’ve been the biggest and most powerful yakuza in the past decade. We could easily destroy them! Or are you too afraid to face them, only hiding behind your title?”

“... No.”

“But-” the man tried to argue, but was immediately thrown onto the cold, hard floor by another of your follower. 

“I’m saying,” you started as you casually placed a foot onto his chest. “If you want to be killed, go ahead. I won’t stop you. What’s one less mouth to feed? But I don’t need a bunch of Shie Hassaikai guys to come to my front door and slaughter everyone, so dogs like you should shut the hell up do as you’re told. Do you understand?” You let out a breath of smoke as you narrowed your eyes at the man beneath your foot. “If you understand, scram.” 

Just as you thought you had more than enough to deal with already, a sudden bang of the door was a clear enough indicator that there was more to come.

“Boss, we caught one of them.”

“One of what?” 

“One of the Shie Hassaikai guy’s responsible for the lad’s death. He’s in the interrogation room, would you like to question him?”

Letting out a frustrated grumble, you put out the fifth cigarette you’ve lit today. For heavens sake, you can never finish smoking one cigarette with so many things happening. Letting out yet another sigh, you followed the guy that had informed you of the man in the interrogation room. 

~~~

The interrogation room was dimly lit, and in the middle of it was a man tied to it. He was beaten to a pulp, and you couldn’t help but snicker at his bruises, blood coating his skin.

“I see that my men have been treating you well.” You broke the silence as you sat on the sofa in front of the captive. 

Silence met your statement as the man that was brutally thrashed glared at you.

“Mind telling me why you had to go ahead and kill my new recruit? Poor boy, his first official job and you killed him.” You sighed as you lit yet another cigarette. At this rate, you’re bound to finish the entire pack just in one day. Why did you start smoking anyway? As far as you can remember, your late father was always smoking, whether he was handling yakuza business or not. Did it run in the family? Or was it because of something else? You couldn’t remember. 

“Oi, bastard.” Your lackey in charge of overseeing the tortured man landed a blow on the captive. “When the boss asks you a question, you answer, do you understand? You’re in our territory, we can kill you anytime we want.” 

“There’s no need to rush.” You drawled, inhaling a large puff of smoke, your foot unconsciously twirling lazily. “I’m sure he’ll speak soon enough if he wants to protect the Shie Hassaikai.” Letting a tiny smirk line your lips, you turned to the man in front of you. 

“Unless, he wants the Shie Hassaikai’s drug dealings to be exposed.” Almost instantly, the beat up man perked up and looked at you with the expression you’ve seen on so many men who’s ever stepped in here before.- one of paralyzing fear, anxiety, and burden of the yakuza’s secrets. 

“How... h-how did you know about that?” 

“So you can speak.” A bright smile pulled at your lips, almost childlike. Anyone who saw your expression would no doubt think you have a few screw loose in your head. But once you step into this life, everyone’s bound to go crazy at some time, right?

“You’re going to answer my questions first, young man.” You let out a silent chuckle as you made your way towards him. The frightened man looked almost the same as you- 28 years old at most. And yet you were here, calling him ‘young man’ like you’ve seen your father did so many times as a child. Maybe you just got used to it. 

“Why did you kill my new recruit?” Inhaling a puff of smoke, you blew the thick and intoxicating smoke right into his bruised face, causing him to gag and choke. Sighing, you extinguished your almost finished cigarette on a fresh cut of his skin, causing the man to scream out in pain. 

“Be-because our boss told us to! He said to dispose of any of your men t-that we see. I-I swear, it isn’t my fault!” The man confessed as terror thundered through his entire being. 

“Are you responsible for the recent deaths of my men as well?” You asked, your voice dangerously low as your eyes meet his eyes dark with fear. Swallowing hard, all he could manage was a small nod.

“B-but I wasn’t entirely responsible for it! T-there were others as well!” By now, the man was shaking with fear. Everyone in this line of work knew that once you were captured, it was the end. Maybe it was to buy a little more time for himself to stay alive, but what for? He was going to die anyway.

Sighing to yourself, you straightened yourself and made your way towards the exit. 

“I’m done here, do whatever you please with that scum, but dispose of the trash properly later on.” 

The last thing you heard, were the screams of the man before everything went silent abruptly. 

~~~

“What are you going to do now, boss?” Your right hand man asked as he stood in your office, your back towards him.

“Leave.” Was all that came out of your mouth.

“.... Then, if you’ll excuse me.” With a silent bow, your most trusted man exited your office, a soft click indicating that you were finally left alone. 

How many times have you wondered how your life would be like if your family wasn’t involved in the yakuza? Hundreds of times. What if your father was still alive? You could be living the life you always have- free from yakuza dealings, free from the dark, grimy world that you live in everyday since you turned twenty. A typical 25 year old adult should be having a normal and stable 9 to 5 job as a source of income- not having to deal with men getting killed almost everyday, gang fights, and illegal dealings.  But then again, there was no denying that at times, you felt as if this was the life for you. It might not be so bad after all, right? Compared to going to a 9 to 5 job everyday doing the same thing over and over again, at least this life gave you more excitement, in a way. But at this rate where you don’t have time to breathe before a new problem arises, you might really go crazy one day. But this is the life meant for the child of a yakuza leader- isn’t it? To follow in their parents’ footsteps and bring the organization to greater heights. That was why you were born, isn’t it? 

The sudden, shrill whine of the telephone in the cold and dark office made you snap out of your thoughts instantly. Cursing silently under your breath, you picked up the phone, wondering who it could be. 

“I heard you caught one of my men.” A dangerous yet soothing voice crackled through the phone. 

“Looks like it’s time to pay my respects, isn’t it?” You snickered. Who would have thought the man responsible for all this would show himself this fast?

“Isn’t it, Chisaki Kai?”