#in contrast to like if i have some kind of mental shield from thinking too hard abt it bc i think its upsetting if that makes sense 😅

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐶𝑂𝐷𝐸 𝐵𝐿𝑈𝐸

𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: Unprotected sex, spanking, shower sex, rough sex, hair pulling, handjob, choking, PWP (porn with a very little plot... wait who am I lying to? It’s porn.) 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝘿𝙉𝙄!

For my sake, your sake, your mom’s sake and for the betterment of the entire world, if you are a minor, please do not read this!🔞

Beta’d by the wonderful @lex-the-flex But all mistakes are mine

This is my first time writing smut, so please be kind 🥺 It’s filth... absolutely filth, even I can’t believe I’ve written this 🤦🏽‍♀️ I hope to god my mom never finds this and Marvel is probably gonna sue me for writing this.

“Steve!”

You exclaimed as he shut the door right in front of your face. Closing your eyes, you pressed your face to the door and sighed. You wanted to bang the door until he opened and explain Steve that all you did was your job. But you didn’t, instead you went to your own room next door and sulked.

You and Steve were on a mission to take down a hydra base. For the first few days, all you both did was map out the building. Once sure enough of your plans, you had finally breached it this morning.

In the beginning everything was just as expected. But then during the fight, you had spotted a man aiming his gun at an unaware Steve and like the love crazed woman you were, you shielded Steve with your own body.

Gladly Steve realised it before the damage was done and quickly held the shield in front of your both, deflecting the bullet. At your stunt, he had clenched his jaw and given an angry glare to you and had resumed fighting.

You had thought that was the extent of his anger at your carelessness, but apparently you were wrong. Steve hadn’t spoken a word to you after that. He had been silent throughout the entire ride to the hotel.

As he kept on fuming with unspoken anger, you tried your best to mend the situation by repeatedly calling out his name and talking about random things to yourself.

You actually didn’t know why he was angry. Agreed it was a stupid decision to be standing in front of a bullet, but you did it to save your teammate, at least that’s what you justified it with.

The truth was you were hopelessly in love with Steve Rogers. Soon after you had joined the avengers, you and Steve had become best friends. You hadn’t even planned on befriending him, forget about falling in love.

But with all his charm and naivety it was impossible not to fall for him. Not to mention his godly body. With the way he sometimes got flustered in front of you, you thought he felt something for you too, but you canceled it down by calling it wishful thinking.

While you both shared all your problems and worries with each other, you kept your emotions under wraps.

When you had seen the man aim his gun at Steve, your heart had literally stopped beating. The thought of living in a world without Steve in it was much more harrowing than your own death. So you did what you had to.

But now his silence was speaking louder than his words. It wouldn’t have felt this bad if he had scolded you or given you one of his long boring lectures, but this tactic of not talking with you was hurting you much worse.

The entire time you stripped out of your Kevlar suit and bathed, your mind was occupied by Steve’s silence. No matter how much you thought, you still couldn’t understand what had made him so mad.

After all, signing up with the avengers meant you would get into fights and get injured. The mantle of being an avenger came with a few broken bones.

And you weren’t the first to make such risky decisions during a mission, there had been many before you and there would be many after. So what was all this fuss about?

As you were pacing around your room, chewing your bottom lip, you stopped suddenly and took in a sharp breath. You couldn’t go back with this mess. Whatever it was, you had to sort it out and for that you needed to talk.

Deciding that it was now or never, you stepped out of your room and stood in front of Steve’s. You placed your ear on the door to check for any activity but there was none. You hoped to god he hadn’t fallen asleep.

Gathering all the strength you had, you knocked on the door, once, twice... thrice. But there was still no response. This had your mental alarms ringing. Steve sure wouldn’t ignore you this much, what if he was in danger?

Thinking of the worst case scenario, you crouched down and started picking the lock with your hair pin. As you opened the door and entered the room, you finally heard the noise of cascading water.

You huffed out a breath of relief. All this time he was just taking a shower and you thought about the possibilities of him getting murdered; you sure were an over thinker.

You didn’t know why but your feet weren’t retreating from the room. The sane part of your brain was telling you to go and come back later. And yet you stood awkwardly straight in the middle of his room.

You didn’t know how it happened, you swear to god didn’t realise. But all of a sudden you were standing in front of the bathroom door. You were burning with warmth from head to toe and you could listen to your heart beat in your ear.

Placing one hand on the door and the other on the knob, you tried to think for a moment. But somehow, your brain couldn’t process anything, except Steve. You slowly turned the knob and the door creaked open.

If Steve asked you what you were doing, which he definitely was going to, you would answer that you were sleepwalking or maybe you were possessed by a horny ghost. You wondered which one was more plausible.

The sight which greeted you was better than any you had ever seen. Steve was standing with his broad back facing you, glistening under the trickling water droplets.

His muscled expanse was stretched out magnificently under the shower, the water making rivulets into the grooves of his chiseled back. He straightened visibly under your watchful eye as he became aware of your entrance.

You waited for his scolding as you nibbled your bottom lip. You waited for him to tell you how immoral and indecent this was. You waited for him to fire you on the spot.

But nothing came from his side except strained breaths. It was as if he was doing some physical exertion by standing ramrod straight. As he tensed, his back muscles flexed even more and you wanted nothing more than to lick up the water drops.

Your mouth had fallen open and you were already panting and his body wasn’t the only thing wet. Seeing that he was neither bursting with anger nor reprimanding you for your actions, you decided to let your eyes wander further.

Your body lit itself on fire the moment you eyed his sculpted glutes. It was definitely, undoubtedly America’s ass. God, the things you wanted to do to him and the things you’d let him do to you.

You looked up to see Steve had turned his head a little and was staring at you through the corner of his eye. Taking that as a hint, you walked further until you were inside the shower.

The water seeped through your clothes as you stood right behind Steve. You were so close that the only thing in front of your eyes was his broad back. Yet he didn’t turn to face you.

Your hand shivered despite the warm water as you touched his back. That simple contact passed an electric current through Steve and you could hear his audible gasp.

Keeping one hand on his back, you moved your dominant hand further onto his chest. After palming his abs for sometime, you snaked your hand further down.

But before you could reach your destination, a strong hand curled around your wrist, limiting your movements. “Don’t.” It was the first word he had said to you after the mission.

His voice was hoarse and deep and you wondered if it was possible for you to come just with his voice. “But what if I want to?” You really were possessed, because you definitely didn’t have this much confidence.

Unexpectedly, your defiance worked and he loosened his hold, though he didn’t remove his hand. When you finally touched his warm cock, which was standing hard proudly, you moaned and buried your face into his back.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed as you rubbed him. You had heard him cursing a few times before, but listening to it now just melted you into a puddle. You pressed your face further into his back as you kept palming him, his hand was still on your wrist as a reminder, though he wasn’t guiding your movements.

You wondered how he would fit inside you, as you were barely able to curl your hand around his massive length. One second you were jerking him off and the next you were pinned to the wall, facing him. You blinked rapidly to steady your senses.

The hand he had used to pull you forward was now held against the wall and you had placed the other on his chest. His entire body was blushing hard and his face was just as flustered as yours.

Steve placed his hand gently on your cheek, a stark contrast to his previous actions. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips as first but he didn’t go any further.

Looking up at him through hooded eyes, you stared at him in confusion. Noticing the question on his face, you realised he was asking for permission. Nodding your head rapidly, you replied with a breathy yes.

That’s all it took for him to smash his face into yours. His kiss wasn’t a perfect or a practiced one, but what he lacked in experience, he made it up with his passion and edge.

You were actually tongue fucking each other and you didn’t regret a moment. You were close to eating each other’s faces off when you finally parted.

You panted and arched your back, exposing your neck as he sucked down your jaw to your neck. Without giving you a moment to gather yourself, he tore your tank top right through the middle.

And the only thing your mushy brain capable of saying was, “Holy shit.” It was the hottest thing you had ever seen. The way his arms flexed as he tore the fabric made you gush.

He discarded the now useless tank top carelessly on the floor and bent down to suck your nipples. You were about to go to sleep and thus weren’t wearing any bra. You let out an unholy moan at the sensation and the sight of him suckling you.

You carded your hands through his hair only for him to take your hands and pin them back to the wall. “Oh Steve.” As you moaned his name, he looked up at you through his lustrous blue eyes.

All of a sudden he let go of your hands and nipple and as you whimpered in dissatisfaction, he quickly tugged your pants down. He practically growled at the sight of you naked in front of him.

He placed his hands on your ass as he knead it while simultaneously kissing you stupid. He shifted his hands from your ass to your thighs and in one swift motion picked you up.

You hadn’t ever been picked up by anyone before and for once you were glad that Steve had taken the serum. He carried you out of the shower and into the room.

You were going to complain about how you were going to ruin the carpet with water when he all but gently threw you into the bed, face down.

You gathered yourself on your hands and knees just as he positioned himself behind you. Steve didn’t know what got into him when he saw your ass perched up in the air, but he went absolutely feral.

He wanted to talk and tell you things, but currently he was incapable of doing anything but devour you. He placed his huge palms on your ass and started kneading, but the thing he did next, took you by absolute surprise.

He spanked your ass, hard. At the contact you let out a loud surprised shriek. You had no idea captain America was a kinky little shit, not that you were complaining.

While you were turned on beyond your senses, Steve mistook your surprise for pain. He snapped out of whatever haze had taken over him, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You looked back at Steve with confusion. “God. No. Steve, you didn’t hurt me. I liked it.” You said with such shyness as if you hadn’t just given him a handjob moments ago.

“Do more.” You asked and he delivered. Steve understood that you wanted it rough, and who was he to deny. He spanked your ass thrice more, alternating the cheek, in quick succession, only to rub it gently later.

He kept up with the contrast of quick spanks and gentle kneads until you sobbed with wrecked pleasure and delightful pain.

When you came back from your blissful high, you realised Steve was pressing soft kisses to your back. You strained your neck at an odd angle and pulled Steve in for a kiss.

It was gentle and filled with adoration and love, a great disparity to what just happened. Steve was rutting against your ass as he deepened the kiss.

Parting from the kiss, he took hold of his cock and jerked it a few times before rubbing himself against your drenched folds. You were already so dripping that you didn’t need any extra stimulation.

Finally he pushed in the tip and you moaned like in heat at the sweet pressure. Gladly he gave you a moment before pushing slowly further, inch by inch.

No matter how wet, or in a sex haze you were, you both knew he wasn’t easy to take. All the while, Steve was muttering praises and soft words to you.

When he finally bottomed out, you both moaned out with pleasure. After giving you some time to adjust, he pulled back only to push back in with a measured but powerful thrust.

“Oh fuck!” Overcome with pleasure, you slapped a hand on the headboard to hold yourself steady while you clutched Steve’s ass with the other to hold him as close to you as possible.

He began with slow yet hard thrusts but soon he changed rhythm and started fucking you in earnest. The headboard rattled against the wall as Steve held your shoulder with one hand and supported you both with another placed firmly on the bed.

You had got a hundred dreams about Steve railing the shit out of you. But nothing matched the actual thing.

Steve experimentally wove his fingers through your hair and when you let out something between a moan and a demand for more, he clutched and pulled it tightly making your eyes roll back with euphoria.

“Stevveee, I... Stevie, I’m close,,... oh fuck!” The only thing you could do was moan wantonly and take everything Steve gave you.

Just as Steve felt your walls quivering, he pulled out. He groaned with frustration as you were so so close. But before you could formate any words, he flipped you around.

“I want to watch you as you come for me.” He said bending down to press a kiss. This time, he entered you in one swift motion.

Curling a hand around his neck, you held the head board with other as you arched into his touch. He was grunting loudly and his voice was having more effect than it should have on you.

You were close, so very close, but you needed more, something more. “Steve, choke me.” You whimpered. Steve faltered for a moment before realising what you had said.

When Steve placed his hand delicately on your throat, which you had exposed to him, you knew you were going to have the best orgasm of your life.

Steve squeezed your throat, and at that very second, you orgasmed like never before. Your toes curled and legs shook uncontrollably as you babbled nonsense.

You felt as if you saw the deepest crevices of the universe and snorted the most powerful drug as white pleasure enveloped you.

Steve, in spite of his super soldier stamina, gave in to pleasure as your walls hugged him tight. With a shout, he came deep within you.

After the pleasure faded and the fatigue had set in, you both laid limply within a tangle of limbs and in each other’s embrace.

“Steve.” You croaked as he kept on prepping you with kisses. He only hummed in response. “I love you.” At that the kisses stopped.

You worried if this was the end of everything, but when you looked up in his eyes, you knew it was just the beginning. His eyes were filled with love.

“I love you too.” He smashed your lips once again and you responded just as enthusiastically. “I can’t think of living without you. You mean everything to me.

When I saw you in front of the gun, I was so scared. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.” You caressed his face as you said, “But you did. And I know you always will Steve.”

“That I will.” You knew that Steve would keep you safe. You knew that in his warm embrace, nothing in this world would touch you.

“Steve, if you ever get mad at me, talk to me, scold me, give me on of your boring lectures if you want, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“If ignoring you is going to lead to this, then I’ll probably give you the silent treatment.” He chuckled as you punched him playfully.

You couldn’t believe you were in love with this goof, or that he was just as in love with you.

[masterjedilenawrites]

What about a reader that is drunk, going to do some nonsense, so both Tech and Crosshair stop her, and in the next day there’s a climate btween them? Pretty please 🥺

I wasn't sure what you meant by the last part of your request so I just let the scene play out in what felt like a natural direction, I hope that's okay! I'm happy to write something else if you'd like!

Tech & Crosshair & Reader | 1.8k words

You tried to hold back your giggles as you gathered up as many helmets as you possibly could. This was going to be great. You couldn't believe you hadn't thought of this before, it was probably one of the best ideas you'd ever had in your life. Your whole body seemed to shake with excitement. Or maybe that was just the alcohol. Nah... you hadn't had that much to drink. This was a genuinely good, smart idea.

You stumbled out of the closet and down the hallway, dropping a few helmets along the way but not even noticing. It was like the edges of your vision were out of focus but surely that was just the dim lighting of 79's. It'd always been hard to see in here.

"What are doing?"

The voice came out of no where, even thought its owner was practically standing right in front of you. Arms crossed, scowl on his face, eyes studying you as you juggled a half dozen clone trooper helmets in your arms for seemingly no reason.

"Back off, Crosshair," you slurred, trying to push past him quickly. Why was he always in your business?

The sniper was too quick for you even on your good days. He took hold of your arm and pulled you back before you entered the main bar area, keeping you in the relative privacy of the hallway.

"Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he rephrased his question.

"It's not stealing, it's a prank," you protested, trying and failing to get your arm out of his grasp. Another helmet tumbled to the floor in the effort.

"Oh there you are," came a new voice. It was almost as if you were moving in slow motion as you tore your gaze from Crosshair and over at the newcomer.

"Tech, tell this jerk to get out of my way," you thought you said. But whatever actually came out was apparently not as understandable. Tech looked between you and Crosshair, confused.

"Um, okay. Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he asked the same question as his brother.

As if on queue, another helmet slipped out of your grasp, though you hadn't moved. At least, you didn't think you did. You huffed and ignored Tech's question, turning back to Crosshair with pleading eyes. Both men were standing between you and your chance to pull one over on the 501st, a battalion infamous for their clever pranks. And you were not going to be stopped.

"Come on Cross," you drawled. "I'm pranking the regs, you should be proud."

Even through your crazed senses, you were still able to pick up the amused twitch of his lips. But he quickly suppressed it and turned back to his usual grouchy grimace.

"Normally I would," he said, "but not like this. Not tonight."

He took a pair of helmets from you and handed them over to Tech, ignoring your whiny sounds of protest.

"He's right," said Tech, placing the helmets on the floor in the corner. "Wrecker already upset some of them tonight, I don't think they'd find this very humorous. Besides, in your drunken state..."

"I'm not drunk!" you exclaimed, probably louder than you intended judging by the flinch both men gave in response.

"Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are bloodshot," said Tech matter-of-factly.

"And I saw exactly how many drinks you had," added Crosshair.

Tech nodded at him. "Yes, we could go on, but that should be indication enough that..."

You cut him off again, this time with tears. You couldn't help it. The whine that had almost been perpetually eking out of you during this whole conversation grew into actual cries and whimpers. Before you knew it, your cheeks were wet and your lips trembled uncontrollably.

"You're both so mean, you never let me have fun, the one time I come up with a great idea and you shoot it down like I'm an idiot, it's not fair, all I wanted was to show you that I belong here with you guys, but none of you let me, you don't care about me at all, you're such fun-busters..."

You babbled on and on, only barely making any sense to the two men who'd now freed you from your armful of stolen helmets and were gently guiding you out of the bar. You clunked along between them like a baby learning to walk for the first time, unaware of where you were going or what was happening. You could only focus on your emotional speech, and then after a few minutes, your focus was redirected to the queasy feeling in your stomach.

Thankfully the boys got you back onto the Havoc and into the refresher before you spilled your guts. Crosshair held your hair back and rubbed a hand soothingly along your spine until the worst of it passed. You fell limp next to the toilet, unable to form any coherent thoughts in the aftermath.

"Come on," Crosshair said softly by your ear. He tried pulling you up, but when it was clear you weren't going to stand on your own, he picked you up altogether and carried you over the to bunks.

Tech had pulled out one of the cots, the one everyone on the ship agreed was more comfortable than the others and thus fought over the right for almost every night. He had it set up with blankets and pillows, and he stood nearby holding a bottle of water as Crosshair laid you down.

"Just small sips for now," Tech said, holding the bottle up to your lips and helping you get down a few quick swallows, enough to calm the burning in the back of your throat. You were vaguely aware of his thumbs wiping away the remnants of your earlier tantrum from your eyes.

"Fun-busters," you muttered before curling up on your side.

Tech looked over at his brother, who only rolled his eyes at your stubbornness.

"Good-night to you, too," he said just before you lost consciousness.

* * *

The next morning was... rough, to say the least. You'd been tipsy a few times in your life, but never full-on drunk, which meant you'd also never had to deal with a full-on hangover.

Your head was splitting open, you were sure of it. Every turn of your neck made you feel sick. There was a pressure behind your eyes and a lightness to your stomach. You wanted to stay in bed forever. But even more painful than your hangover symptoms were the memories of your behavior the night before, and the urge to make amends eventually propelled you to get up.

You found Tech first, fiddling with his holopad in the cockpit. He eyed you as you carefully lowered yourself in the chair next to his, keeping a hand up to shield your eyes from the rays of morning sunlight that crept through the windows.

"I'm sorry," you said in a low, raspy voice, getting right to the point. You knew Tech appreciated when people did that. He wasn't a fan of small talk and segues, not when there was clearly something important to discuss. "I was kind of a dumbass last night, wasn't I?"

Tech set down his holopad with a shrug. "You had too much to drink. You weren't in control of your mental faculties."

You smiled at his uncomplicated way of viewing things. But then came a cough from behind, from a particularly unamused sniper leaning against the doorway.

"You were a dumbass," he said just as plainly as his brother. Well, at least they were both honest, even if it was in contrast to each other.

"I'm surprised you remember," said Tech, quickly trying to move past his brother's more negative comment. "From what I've read, memory loss is common after heavy intoxication...."

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as it made your head ring. "I don't remember a lot, just enough to be embarrassed. If I said anything nasty to either of you, I really didn't mean it, I swear. I was just...."

You trailed off, not sure what it was you were really trying to do. You'd wanted to pull a prank, but there'd been something else driving you forward, some other motive to want to do something so stupid.

"You called us fun-busters and cried because you didn't think we cared about you," said Crosshair through the customary toothpick in his mouth.

You looked at Tech, who gave you an apologetic look that confirmed his brother's words were true. You let out a little groan and slumped into the chair. A part of you was glad you didn't fully remember.

"Do you really think that?" Tech asked. "That you don't belong here?"

You shrugged. You still weren't sure about your feelings.

"I dunno... I guess, maybe sometimes... it does feel like you treat me the way you do the regs." You spoke slowly, discovering your own thoughts as you said the words. "Like I'm just along for the ride. Just a normal person who doesn't matter. I thought if I did something to them, you'd see I wasn't part of them. At least, that's what my drunk alter ego thought, anyway."

You gave another shrug and tried for a laugh but it didn't feel quite right.

Tech looked thoughtful for a moment. "You do realize most of the regs in that club were inebriated, too. But we didn't carry any of them to bed for the night."

"Or watch as they puked their guts out," added Crosshair with a slight wrinkling of his nose.

"Yes," Tech nodded at you. "We knew you've been feeling down lately, that's why Hunter suggested we all go to that bar in the first place, to give you a chance to have some fun. Crosshair and I kept an eye on you, and Hunter and Wrecker made sure those regs didn't get upset over your, ah, attempt at a prank."

Tech let his words linger for a moment as you finally raised your throbbing eyes up to meet his.

"You belong here. And we do care. We care because, well..."

He looked over at his brother and you followed his gaze. Crosshair took out his toothpick and pointed it at you.

"Because we're your family."

He put the toothpick back in his mouth with a wink and then turned to leave, showing that that was the final word on the subject. Tech looked at you with a soft smile, one that made you finally feel at peace. You hummed as you laid back against the chair and let the feeling really take hold within you.

You belonged with the Bad Batch. They were your family.

It was a very nice feeling.

[margarethx]

I feel like one of the reasons why Sam and Bucky work with each other so well as a duo in is the fact that they are at the same (or almost the same) level of importance when it comes to the MCU. They are in a similar position as characters.

Let me explain...

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

Before tfatws Sam Wilson was a character from the background. He is important for the overall storyline, but he’s not at the front of any movie. Even in ca:tws he was less relevant to the plot than e.g. Natasha. He’s necessary and there is a significant reason he’s there at all, but at the end of the day it’s a Steve Rogers’ movie. Not Sam’s. And even if calling Sam a sidekick is most of the time insulting - at least within the MCU - he kind of is a sidekick. That’s the role he has in the narrative. There’s a main hero (Steve) and a guy who follows his lead to help (Sam). Of course Sam has his own life and issues that have nothing to do with Steve, but we don’t even know them at this point. And here we’re looking at Sam through the lense of the Captain America movies.

Almost every scene with Sam before tfatws was connected to Steve. Sam joined the fight in ca:tws to help Steve. He was in AoU, because Steve invited him to Stark’s party. He was in Civil War, because Steve asked him to join the Avengers and he wanted to help Steve with finding Bucky... Similarly, Sam had his own opinions in Civil War, but we only hear them when it’s relevant to Steve’s story. (When Sam and Rhodey argue about the Accords they stand behind Steve, because the scene is about him making the decision.)  Even in Ant-Man, where there is no Steve at all, Sam mentions him after Scott left. Etc, etc. You get the picture.

And the same goes for Bucky.

We only see him in ca:tfa where his story is intertwined with Steve’s. When Steve gets his ass kicked before he got the serum. Or when they go to the Expo. Or when they fight during the war. Even when Bucky is saved by Steve it’s less about him being finally free and more about Steve finding his friend again. In ca:tws their meeting is told mostly from Steve’s perspective. It’s a film about Steve facing the Winter Soldier not the other way round. And later viewers don’t see Bucky’s life as a fugative untill the moment he becomes important to Steve’s storyline again in Civil War. And so on and so forth. It goes like that basically from Bucky’s first appearance in the MCU to the last scenes of Endgame.

When Steve and Bucky are fighting on the same side Bucky’s role could also be described as: “a sidekick”. Just like Sam’s.

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

And I honestly believe that this is the reason why pairing Sam and Bucky together makes so much sense. Even if you put aside the obvious chemistry between the characters and their actors it just works for them to join forces in multiple scenes.

Both of them walked in Steve’s shadow before they got their own show. Not because they’re less interesting as characters or because Steve’s storyline is better, but because Steve is one of the main heroes in the entire MCU while Sam and Bucky were always orbiting around him in a way. And we, as the viewers, learnt very little about them outside of the stuff that was important for their relationships with Cap.

Why do we know about Sam losing Riley? Because Steve also lost someone who fell to their death. Why do we see Bucky killing Stark’s parents? Because it’s a movie about Steve’s conflict with Tony (mostly) and it’s just one of many things that makes the conflict worse. I’m not implying it’s unfair to the characters or something (even though I’d love to see them having more sceentime in general)... It’s just the role they serve in a story, because someone has to be in that position for the narrative to flow. You cannot make every character “the main one”. That wouldn’t really work.

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

But then... When Sam and Bucky are together we suddenly see much more about both of them outside of their connection with Steve. It’s almost like destiny how they always end up in close proximity. They seem to naturally gravitate towards each other ever since they’ve met. And it looks like taking them away from a big, important character (Steve) makes them shine brighter. Most of the little moments they shared became iconic at some point when they were just allowed to exist together.

And again... I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy seeing their interactions with Steve, because I do. Especially Sam’s. But it very often feels like they interact with each other because it’s important for the progression of the plot. When Steve talks with Sam it’s often about their next mission, or how Sam helps him with something, or to show that Steve has difficulties with adjusting to the modern world. And when Steve talks with Bucky (at least after ca:tfa) I always feel like there should be a narrator’s voice talking over a scene, telling me: “see? they were friends in the past, before the war... this is important! pay attention”.

Meanwhile, when Sam and Bucky interact, some scenes just... happen for no purpose. Like they interact, because they want to, not because the script told them to. There’s absolutely no plot-related reason for showing Sam and Bucky sitting in that tiny car in Germany. Or for showing them standing together in Infinity War when Thanos attacks.

What the two of them have is completely different from what they had with Steve in the past.

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

To be honest, it always bothered me a little how Steve never really did anything for Sam (freeing him from prison where Sam landed for helping Steve doesn’t count). It’s always Sam making Steve feel better and standing by his side. So it’s a very glaring contrast, when we got to see a whole separate montage where Bucky visits Sam and helps him fix the boat that was important to his family. Or when he casually throws a shield with him for practice, asks Sam if he’s okay, and brings him a new super-hero suit even though Sam never even asked for these favours or suggested that he needs Bucky’s help.

And I know that some people won’t like what I’m about to say, but Steve and Bucky really don’t act like they are particularly close to each other most of the time (especially after their first movie). I believe that they were friends before everything went to shit, but after ca:tws? Not really. They cling to that label, because of their shared story and because Steve cannot let go of the past, but they just... don’t act like they are friends anymore. It’s like they both changed too much and don’t know how to deal with that. So they don’t. It’s like Steve is only attached to some past version of Bucky that no longer exists and the new Bucky doesn’t fully match his expectations. Sam on the other hand has no expectations at all. He builds his relationship with Bucky from the fresh foundations. The creators don’t need to bring back some shared memories from 70 years ago to prove that these two have a strong connection. They just show them doing stuff together. The argument about The Big Three? Petty revange over a car seat? Discussing music tastes? Having “sleepovers” and giving each other slightly mean, but harmless nicknames? Discussing mental health? Having staring contests? Watching goddamn sunsets? That’s what people who are close to each other do.

And that’s why these two simply... work.

It’s not just implied or explained in a flashback. “Look, viewer. They are friends. I know they don’t act like they are, but trust me. They went for a dinner a decade ago... offscreen.” Sam and Bucky even refused to call themselves friends! They’re a couple of guys (allegedly). And yet I still know they like each other very much from the way they interact, speak about each other, or look at each other.

And I really think that one of the main reason’s why it works like that is because they’re both equally crucial (or irrelevant at times) for the story. Both are just as (un)necessary for the plot to move on. Sometimes they are very important and sometimes the plot would easily work without them. ca:tws could’ve happen without Sam. Civil War could’ve technically happen without Bucky if they put more emphasis on the Accords. There were both certainly unnecessary in Infinity War or Endgame. But there’s no way the events in tfatws would’ve happen without both of them being there together. Sam might’ve never taken the shield and become Captain America if it wasn’t for Bucky. Bucky would’ve spent countless years trying and failing to make amends and never finding peace if it wasn’t for Sam. The fandom likes to focus on only Bucky, but you wouldn’t get this much content about him if there was no Sam to share the story with him.

Because they just fit together perfectly.

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

Last disclaimer (because I really don’t want people to get the wrong impression): I actually like Steve. And I like Samsteve (romantically or platonically). Platonic Stevebucky is alright too. But it just kind of... pales in comparison when you see what Sam and Bucky have. Most MCU relationships pale in comparison if I’m being honest.

[insomniacowl]

Neon genesis Evangelion Analysis Chapter 23: Katsuragi Misato Part 2 Dear Shinji, this is my will.

Misato: So you don't want to meet your dad?

Just like me

Let us start from the beginning. The scene in the first episode where Misato drives down to meet Shinji. Her first words to him were, "Sorry, I made you wait." This, I believe, is the first of many times their interactions will revolve around the theme of "Waiting." The line also contrasts with her final words to Shinji, "Let's continue when you get back."

Her cross is first brought to our attention through Shinji's eyes as Misato shields him from the blast of explosions from the Self-defense force's missiles used against Sakiel. Then, on their way to NERV, Shinji confides to her about his feelings towards Gendou. Misato empathizes, saying, "You're just like me," pointing to their commonalities.

She later consoles Shinji as he refuses to pilot Eva-01 and tells him to "Not run away from himself." At this point, she was already seeing herself reflected in Shinji, and those words were meant for herself as well.

After this point, Misato constantly finds herself reflected on Shinji. While it has a positive influence, like in episode 1, it also frequently caused Shinji to hurt. One criticism viewers lay on Misato is the sarcastic tone she sometimes takes when talking to Shinji about his actions. "You don't want to pilot the Eva? With that kind of determination…. What a pain!", Is one of the harsh words directed at Shinji. Even in episode 12, her cold reaction to Shinji's contemplation regarding Asuka is also, in its own way, infamous.

Yet, if we consider that she sees a lot of herself in Shinji, those lines come to represent her self-contempt rather than how she sees the fourteen-year-old. Misato was not really in the position to take care of teenagers if we consider her character flaws.

While such actions are worthy of criticism, there is room to empathize considering the traumas she had to endure, which has shaped the kind of "Adult" she became. As a young child, she was in the center of the Second Impact, and the psychological impact has led to her being mute for a few years. However, she seemed to have eventually recovered. Perhaps to compensate, we are told that she became an overly happy and talkative person. On top of this, she has studied hard and become a student at the Second-Tokyo city University. She met and began living with Kaji in the year 2005, at the age of twenty. According to Ritsuko, she even had a week-long sex marathon with Kaji, where neither of them left the house during the period.

To elaborate on her constant need for physical pleasure, we can start from the glimpse of her inner monologue we get during the instrumentality. We learn that it was one of the few things she had control over that made her feel alive when she was intimate with Kaji. Yet she breaks up with him because She saw a glimpse of her father reflected in him, although that was what got her attracted to him in the first place.

What are you embarrassed about? You wanted the man you love to see you for who you were. NO!

I wonder about that. You wanted your father to see you for who you were. That's not true!

We can identify Misato as struggling with Electra Complex (Oedipus Complex for girls) regarding how she views her father. She then attempted to quench the thirst for affection her father failed to provide her from a different man who felt similar to him. This can be observed through Kaji and Shinji. Two people sharing the same character flaws as her father (Workaholic and being bad at human interaction) being the two people she opened herself up to (Mentally, emotionally, and sexually). Misato was hoping to compensate for the loss she suffered and recover from her past trauma using her relationship with these two.

Consciously or unconsciously, she likely understood this side of herself. She felt disgusted by herself, leading to her breaking up with Kaji while punishing and labeling herself as someone "Undeserving to love." While her relationship with Kaji was open and overtly described in the series, some of you might wonder how Shinji is involved in this process. Especially regarding the sexual aspect of this analysis.

We can definitively say that Misato and Shinji do not share a simple Guardianship relation. But the discussion about Misato and Shinji can wait for now. First, let us discuss Hyuga Makoto.

Hyuga is seen approaching Misato as more than just a direct superior at work (Especially after Kaji's death). "Only if it's with you (I don't mind dying from the base self-destructing)." It is a telling line that highlights Hyuga's feelings that he begins acting on in the latter part of the series. Turning him into a more dimensional character. While Misato seems to be aware of such advances, we never see her acting on it. Neither accepting nor rejecting him outright. Since this is at the low point of her emotional journey, Misato would have been okay with anyone. Thus, it makes us wonder if there could have been more intimacy between the two off-screen. I'd argue that Hyuga died a virgin (or at least that there was no sexual relationship between the two) based on Hyuga's fantasy during the instrumentality.

To bring our discussion back to Kaji, we are shown that he was the first man she trusted and gave her first intimacy to. At the same time, she was someone Kaji was able to trust and be vulnerable with. We never see either of them refer to each other by their names. While the reason is not depicted, we can make an educated guess and say that it stems from their determination to interact professionally. Without letting their (embarrassing) past hinder their work.

But perhaps it was destined that this guise was not meant to be. In episode 15, we see the two confide in each other. Misato laments about her father and her regret of not being a good lover for Kaji. Kaji embraces and accepts her of it. The last time they ever shared a bed, Kaji gives her his final present. His death led to Misato shedding many tears, but the present helped guide her to her next step. Before this point, we see her constantly drinking her favorite beer, but never after this event. All we see her drink from then on is canned coffee, Kaji's favorite drink. And now, two peoples' worth of "Will" lived on inside her. One from her father, the other from Kaji.

Now, let's discuss the last "Male" in her life: Shinji. As mentioned earlier, Shinji was more than just a child under her care. Shinji's first introduction of Misato was through her photo that she sent him. It is a revealing photo of herself with arrows drawing attention to her breast. As a side note, the actual words in this image were written by Anno himself, and the lipstick mark was from one of the female Gainax staff.

From the photo, we can see that Misato wants Shinji to see her as more than a potential caretaker (as ethically should), but as someone of opposite gender and a "potential" love interest. Although, of course, we can brush it aside as a part of her quirky and fun-loving attitude. But the problem arises in the latter part of the series where this attitude crosses the line. The suspicion is confirmed in the official pamphlet's character introduction describing her as Shinji's family + co-worker + superior + "lover."

Misato: Shinji, I'm going in. This is about all I can do for you right now.

Shinji: No!

The scene central to this discussion happens in episode 23 when she takes her seat next to Shinji, who is grieving the death of Second Rei on his bed. Although surface-level reading is, Misato wants to hold his hands to comfort him. If that is the case, the line "This is all I can do for you right now" is unnecessary. And not only that, but Shinji's rejection of this advance is also too strong to justify the conclusion of the surface level analysis. If anything comes to mind about an act that two grown-up adults do on the bed is "Sex."

Even if we try to give the benefit of the doubt and stay at the surface-level conclusion that is psychologically comfortable, this is Evangelion. It refuses psychological comfort. The film book released by Gainax has a note about this scene that says, "Misato is attempting to give Shinji her body." This is even alluded to in the shot right before the line, the head of the chair being where Shinji's Penis would be, and Misato coming to sit right on top of it.

Throughout the series, both Misato and Asuka approach Shinji as the "Other sex." it's natural for Asuka since they are the same age. However, it is unnatural to think of Misato (Who is twice his age) approaching Shinji sexually (neither should be accepted). So let's dive into how Misato might think about that. As early as episode 2, we are shown Misato yelling at Ritsuko through the phone, saying, "There is no way I will lay my hands on a boy!". This is perhaps foreshadowing what she will be doing in the later part of the series. So what changed in her throughout the series that she would end up trying to lay her hands on Shinji sexually. Did she genuinely believe that it was the only way she can console Shinji? Or perhaps there was a more selfish reason, to distract herself from the sadness of losing Kaji? Well, it could be both. There is a middle ground and an explanation that I prefer. Kaji was the only man she allowed herself to be vulnerable with. Because the best means of communication between the two have been sexual, she most likely believed this to be the most effective way to empathize and be vulnerable with Shinji.

We can see this as another manifestation of her Electra complex if we consider that Shinji also reminds her of her father.

As many of you are aware, Evangelion borrows concepts from psychology and is strongly influenced by Freudian psychoanalysis. Psychological terms are heavily used, especially in later episodes. The characters' internal conflicts are put into the spotlight in episodes 18, 19, and 20. All these episodes use terms from psychoanalysis for their title. Let me touch on each of them briefly over here. Episode 18's title is "Ambivalence." It refers to the coexistence of two conflicting emotions (Love and hate) regarding something and was coined by Eugen Bleuler in 1911. Freud borrowed this term in his analysis. His followers believed it to be an essential state that leads to the sadistic sub-phase of development. Episode 18 is also when the dummy-controlled Eva Unit-01 destroys Bardiel. Thus the title can also help us understand the Destrudo-led sadistic destruction of the dummy program.

Episode 19's title is "Introjection" and was a term heavily used by Freud. It is the unconscious adoption of the ideas or attitudes of others and a psychological defensive mechanism used by the ego to minimize anxiety. Almost every human being goes through this phase and is a part of healthy development as an individual. Episode 19 is when Shinji emits a strong dose of Destrudo and achieves a 400% synchronization rate. Here, we can try to explain the use of this term for the episode title in two ways. The first is to refer to the synchronization process of the pilot and the Evangelion. Secondly (and more specifically to the episode), to refer to Shinji becoming an individual that has become a part of Unit-01. Becoming a part of Unit-01 who have just absorbed the S2 engine and become as though god.

Last is episode 20, titled "Oral stage," and is the stage central to Freud's theory of Libido's development. Libido is the potential sexual energy, and Freud categorized the development into four distinct stages, starting with the oral stage. During this stage of development, the child clings onto its mother's breast for nourishment. This is also when the child begins to develop the ability to distinguish between themselves and the other. The significant happening of episode 20 is salvaging Shinji from Unit-01's Core, trying to bring Shinji back as an individual and away from the comfort of his mother. This can be seen to parallel the child leaving its mother's womb and coming to be born into its own person. And to add, they had to inject Libido into the Core to salvage him.

To return from our long detour, Evangelion is a series that heavily draws its conceptual inspiration from Psychology and Freudian psychoanalysis. What Freud posits, and perhaps most central to his scholarship, understands that desires created by both Libido and Destrudo, any forms of mental energy are irresistible and irrepressible. That is to say, if during one's development if any of such mental energies' expressions are disturbed and blocked off, it will results in the development of harmful coping mechanisms as an adult. In the case of Misato, her father's absence resulted in the absence of ways to healthily release her Libido. Therefore, Misato's inappropriate advance towards Shinji could manifested the harmful coping mechanism she developed as a child.

Losing her father as a child resulted in dysregulation in Libido. Losing Kaji, the only person she truly loved, left Masato broken. At this point, she had no other way to release her desires other than laying hands on a vulnerable child. When both Shinji and Penpen refused her the physical affection she needed, she could only find comfort in listening to Kaji's final voice message in repeat. Yet, she did not lose all possibility to recover. She was able to dry out her tears and began to follow the road her father once took. This leads her to analyze the evidence Kaji passes onto her and begins questioning the truth behind Rei. By the end, she manages to reach close enough to understand the "Truth." This is how she was able to explain to Shinji what was going on. She also experiences character growth through this process, becoming able to fully understand and empathize with the pain of others.

This is also when we see her starting to differ from Asuka. While both lost Kaji, whom they both loved, Misato comes to accept this loss and can carry herself as an adult. By the end, she was mature enough to send the grieving Shinji to Unit-01 during the End of Evangelion. While Misato has always convinced Shinji to get on the Eva, now, she was different from the past. Unlike in episode 4, where she emotionally manipulated Shinji into piloting Eva. Unlike episode 12, where she drew a hard line and coldly forced him. In EOE, she was no longer forcing Shinji out of her own hatred of the angels. All there was, was a grown adult's desire to convince a child that "Life is worth living." Even if she were to die during this process. All there was, was Misato's advice as an adult to the crying child. And it was this "will to live" that was passed on from Misato to Shinji.

Misato places her necklace on Shinji's hands and wraps his hands around it. Just as how she once held onto it while facing death in its face. Her father's memento. The love towards one's family. Hope for humanity. And all else that the cross symbolized. And the cross passed on from Misato to Shinji like the passing of the torch. To pass on the will to live. This was followed by a grown-up's kiss, just like how Kaji showed her, the perfect way to, perhaps the only way to fully communicate this will and pass it on. To want the other to continue living and hoping to live on as a part of their memory.

With the kiss, Misato stopped pretending to be Shinji's inept guardian.

She sent Shinji off, hoping that he could become a grown-up who can stand by himself.

Misato: You will be alone from this point on. You need to choose for yourself.

Shinji: No. I can't.

Misato: Crying isn't going to solve anything, either!

Misato: You hate yourself, don't you? That's why you hurt others. Deep down, you know that you suffer more when you cause someone else pain than if you just let yourself get hurt. But Shinji, that was your decision, so that makes it a valid choice. That's what you wanted, so that makes it worthwhile, Stop lying to yourself, and realize that you do have options. Then accept the choices that you made.

Shinji: But you're not me. You don't understand!

Misato: So what if I'm not you?! That doesn't mean it's okay for you to give up! If you do, I'll NEVER forgive you as long as I live.

Misato: I'm not perfect either. I've made tons of stupid mistakes, and later, I regretted them. And I've done it over and over again. A cycle of hollow joy and vicious self-hatred. But even so, every time, I learned something about myself.

Please, Shinji. You've got to pilot Eva and settle this once and for all. Find out why you came here. Why you exist at all.

And when you've found your answers, come back to me. Promise me. See you soon.

Kaji: Go and do what you can. No one will force that choice on you. Think for yourself and decide for yourself. GO and do what you must right now. So that you don't live to regret it.

Misato: If I had known it would end like this, I would have changed the carpet as Asuka suggested.

Many discussions about Eva centered around her last words, the one about the Carpet and Asuka. Most of the theories have interpreted it with the spilled coffee during the instrumentality scene. I'll touch on the scenes shown in instrumentality in future chapters. But for the discussion here, note that the coffee was not spilled on the carpet during the instrumentality scenes. So I'd instead interpret this line separately from it. Personally, I believe this to be Misato, as an adult, regretting not being as kind and compassionate as she could have been to Asuka.

Unlike Shinji, who she managed to pass on her will and true feelings, she did not have that privilege with Asuka. Instead, she wallowed in her sadness, not looking out for Asuka, who was herself suffering from traumas and grief. The regret of not being a good guardian and not making the home comfortable for Asuka would have hit her as waves of regret crashed in as she laid bleeding cold on the floor of section R-20.

After Shinji, who she just sent off, Asuka, who she feels sorry for, After Penpen, who was always there for her, Kaji now crosses her mind. Was she waiting for his praise for passing on his will to Shinji?

As though she can see him, she stares at the sky. Right before the explosion, we see Rei standing over her. Perhaps it was Lilith who traveled through time.

And we come to the final scene of the EoE. Shinji and Asuka are lying down on the shore, staring at the sky. At this moment, we are reminded of Misato through the cross, now nailed to a wooden post. The cross has come to symbolize Misato's hope and dreams for the two children who will now be growing up into two adults. Will Misato be able to revert back to her human form by her soul desiring it? Nobody knows. But I don't think that matters. Because now, Shinji carries on her will.

Let's continue when you get back.

I'm back. Welcome back.

Welcome Shinji, this is your new home.

I'm back.

Welcome back!

Sorry, made you wait!

TBC Chapter 24: Ritsuko Part 1 Mother and Daughter

[littleoddwriter]

Soothing | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another vent fic, sorry.

summary; You accidentally triggered yourself, Roman comforts you.

notes; TW / CW // Bleeding; Self-Harm (scratching); (mild) Dissociation. Daddy!Kink; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Sitting in one’s lap; Soft Kisses. Reader suffers from BPD and has atopic dermatitis (only mentioning it, so as to explain why things happen the way they do, but it should still be general enough to be relatable to anyone, really).

All morning long, you’ve felt this buzzing excitement under your skin, which had you restless, but feeling happy for the time being. You wished it’d never stop, although you knew that was inevitable.

As if on cue, your mood crashed.

You had been watching videos about mental health, since it was often a pretty good resource to either learn more about yourself, or find new tips to help yourself. Still, some of the videos were quite triggering and you hadn’t noticed it until it had already been too late.

Now you just sat in the leather armchair, knees drawn up to your chest. Feelings of anger, anxiety, guilt and sadness overwhelmed you. They seemed to suffocate you. It was bad. The contrast to how you’ve felt only minutes ago struck you like lightning. Tears pricked your eyes, but you didn’t dare shed them.

The urge to hurt yourself overcame you; all kinds of ways to do it wormed themselves into your brain, dominating any other thought. You took deep breaths and held tightly onto your legs. You wouldn’t give in. You couldn’t.

But the feelings were just too much. You just wanted to get rid of them, fast. Make it hurt less. Physical pain was only temporary, but the emotional one – it felt as though it clawed at your insides and tore them apart. None of those wounds ever healed. The pain seemed to go on forever. So, yes, as bad as it was, a bit of physical pain was far more preferable then.

Your skin had already started to react to your distress, itching relentlessly. It felt as if those spots on your wrists, back of your hands and fingers were burning.

Wanting to rid yourself of that sensation as well, and taking it as the gateway to harming yourself, you started scratching. It relieved you for a second. Then the wounds started bleeding, oozing other fluids as well. It burned, still. But different in a way that it was almost bearable.

Then it stopped altogether. Your emotional pain stayed, though. You wished it had helped it more.

Before you could get up to do anything worse to yourself, though, Roman came into the room. He had been doing business in his office, prior to that.

Black Mask walked over to you and you averted your gaze. You knew that what you were feeling was written all over your face. It made you feel ashamed, weak, and small. You hated for him to see you like that. It only had you feel as though you were even more of a burden to him.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, my prince?” Roman asked gently, quietly, as he stood beside you now, one hand resting on the armchair’s backrest, the other on one of your knees.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on your knees then. It wasn’t a complete lie, either. Your mind felt like static.

Black Mask hummed pensively, “I fail to believe that. Don’t you want to tell Daddy what’s going on?”

He lifted his hand from your knee and gently took hold of your chin, tilting your head up to have you look at him. You wanted to avert your gaze, but couldn’t possibly. No matter what, he always mesmerised you, taking your breath away.

“I don’t know, sorry, Daddy. I just- I accidentally triggered myself. Now I’m- you know. In pain,” you explained after a few beats of silence. Your voice was strained with the effort of holding back tears and cries of anguish you wished you could let out, but it was all stuck inside of you.

“That’s not good, baby,” Roman stated the obvious and paused, his head tilting to get a look at your hands instead. He clicked his tongue. “Was that on purpose?” he asked then.

In favour of taking your hands in his gloved ones, he let go of your chin and the backrest. He held your hands in a gentle grip, looking them over. Your knuckles on your fingers were bleeding, and so were the backs of both of your hands, the insides of your wrists, your palms, and the spaces between your fingers. You felt embarrassed. You hadn’t even noticed just how much you had scratched open. It had all just been an itching, burning mess to you.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Roman chided, not unkindly so.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. But– yes and no? It was itching – burning, really. So I just scratched. I didn’t know how bad it’d be.”

Nodding, Black Mask cautiously stroked his leather-clad thumbs over your wounded hands, careful not to inflict more pain onto you. It was soothing.

“Do you still want to hurt yourself?”

“I think want is the wrong word for it, but yeah, the urge is still there.”

“Right, my mistake.”

Roman took hold of your arms and tugged gently to make you get up, so you did. Then he sat down in the armchair and positioned you in his lap. Your back was leaning against his solid chest, his strong arms were wrapped around your middle, and your face was tucked into the crook of his leather-clad neck.

You didn’t exactly know why, but this was one of your favourite positions to sit in with him. It was as though his entire presence enveloped you, shielding you from the world. The pleasant, smoky scent of his cologne, mixed with the leather of his mask, was intoxicating to you, such as the warm feeling of said mask that had taken on his body heat by then, which is why you always loved to press your face into it. Not only did it blind you, effectively making reality disappear, but it was incredibly calming, too.

His left arm stayed around your middle, his hand resting on your stomach in form of a constant pressure and warmth. He lifted his other arm to gently stroke his fingers through your hair. No one else had ever been allowed to play with your hair in any way, since it usually caused you to freak out, but for some reason, it just felt right when he did it.

Shifting a little and lifting your head from his neck, you strained to look at him. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmured and kissed his leather-clad cheek.

“Anything for you, my sweet prince,” he replied, and even though he couldn’t truly smile anymore, you could hear it in his voice.

Then he turned his head and nudged the zipped up mouth of his mask against your lips in a mock kiss. You loved it. Softly, you kissed him back, a slight smile on your face.

Almost suddenly, you felt so light.

“I love you,” you murmured against his zipper.

With the proximity between you two, you could hear the sharp but quiet intake of breath he did when you said it. It wasn’t the first time, but it hasn’t been all that long since. He still wasn’t entirely used to you saying it, it would seem.

“I adore you, too, my boy.”

A soft, bright smile stretched your lips and you kissed him again, more enthusiastically, but just as gentle and innocent as before. The hand that had previously been playing with your hair, still, was now cupping your cheek, his leather-clad thumb stroking it while you two kissed.

For the time being, you had been able to forget about what had even led you to this moment in the first place. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered as long as you were in his arms, his presence, and only his.

[flowerwrites06]

ring lover — pjm

Plot: Violence and grace come together in harmony. 

Pairing(s): Boxer!Jimin x Ballerina!OC (Name: Gaia) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Boxer | Ballerina | Fluff/Smut/Angst 

Tags & Warnings: mentions of blood, boxer-related violence, explicit smut. 

Authors Note: we love boxer jimin so I didn’t a whole lot of convincing to repost this lmao enjoy! 

Red oozed across the glistening floor as the medics dragged the body away to let him relish in his victory. If he had not done this damage then he would be the one being scraped off. At least that was how Jimin reassured himself after the lack of news on his opponents’ health. Or when a parent and wife would scream at him for being harsh in the ring. It was a battle of who could knock someone down the hardest. Jimin never faltered when he needed to get something done.

Cheers everywhere with no remorse because they knew no judgement would come for being happy with murder within these walls. Jimin let himself be washed away by the production.

Eyes scanned across the crowds, seeing painted faces and lit banners with statements that could never be repeated in a more humble setting. He drank them each of them in filling his ego to the brim until it overflowed out through his smile.

However his gaze stopped at one person he really looked forward to see. Curly locks with a pink bow peeking out from the back of her head while her lips shone even from a distance. Inside the heart of the city situated a dance studio full of the most elegant dolls he had ever seen.

One in particular Jimin seemed to gain a stubbornness in impressing.

**

On a day full of meetings with new sponsors, Jimin had the opportunity to see one of her shows and much like the rest of the crowd he grew enamored. Grace seemed to ooze through her veins letting her limbs flow into the most complicated of moves but she did them like she was born to do it.

Soft face ever so sweetly gracing her features when the show ended and Jimin swore he almost fainted from the overwhelming feeling pulsing through him.

His sponsor had been kind enough to get him backstage for even one conversation with the faery on stage. Jimin prided in his luck for seeing her in person, to find out her demeanor was a little shy with one person compared to the thousands she saw just a minute ago. Somehow that tingled excitement in his belly even more.

Except his luck fizzled out when Gaia recognized exactly who he was and her smile faded away.

“I know exactly who you are.” Her throat bobbed up and down as she held her shoes in her hand tightly. “You’re that boxer who killed the nineteen year old boy in the ring.”

Jimin was used to fear in people’s eyes when he met them but now more than ever, he wished anything else. He wanted the sparkle on stage but came to the painful realization that the reason it disappeared was because he stood in front of her. “In the ring, we just call each other opponents.” The man attempted to smile.

Gaia took a deep breath. “Well...I hope we never meet in a ring.” She turned away, hair moved over her shoulder while she carefully placed her shoes inside a pale pink box.

He pursed his lips not entirely used to someone being against his ruthless behavior. Usually it would gain a lot of positive feedback and respect. Right now Jimin felt like a simple minded murderer who just referred to it as a sport. “We could meet outside the ring.”

“Pardon?” She looked back at the male, brows furrowed.

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips silently admiring how she could keep such an elegant composure even when she clearly looked a little upset. “I have a match coming up soon. Maybe you could drop by…” Jimin shrugged attempting to keep the conversation as casual as possible. He hated to admit that it never took this long for a girl to just get on board and it had only been ten minutes.

“I don’t like watching fights.” She replied simply holding the box to her chest as form of a shield between them.

“You don’t have to watch the fight.” Jimin shook his head. “You can come afterwards and—and I’ll be nice to the guy this time, I promise.”

“Why do you want me to attend?” Her eyes flickered up and down his body.

“Apparently faeries are good luck…I’m told.” He smirked.

Gaia had the strongest urge to scoff but unfortunately this was not the place to be showing off any casual behavior of the sort. Sighing, the woman nodded. “I’ll be there towards the end.”

Smirk stretched into a proud grin before giving her an almost bow and some motivation to impress the hell out of his new lady friend.

**

The rush of adrenaline lasted around two seconds before his stomach dropped down to a pit watching the fear on Gaia’s face, her gaze fixated on the limp body of his opponent. It didn’t take any type of effort to notice the way she hugged her jacket tighter around her body as if someone was going to attack her in any second. Someone like him.

For the first time Jimin could not feel like floating as he was patted on the back and cheered on. Everything seemed muffle and fade away to the imagined sound of her heart pounding out of her ribcages from how she struggled to avert her eyes away. Smile disappeared watching her pad away behind to the lockers with Kiku leading her to the right place.

He wanted to somehow communicate to her why he did his matches like this but it just seemed like such a silly reasons in his mind. So all he could do was mentally apologize for bringing a peaceful faery into a murderous war zone.

-

“You alright? You need some water?” Kiku, one of the Jimins’ trainers, asked in a gentle almost motherly like tone as they walked into the dull looking locker room.

Greenish lights, blue lockers with suspicious red and brown stains, wet benches and the stench of too many bodily fluids swirling in the air. The loud incessant cheering now finally faded into something Gaia could tolerate without feeling her lungs trying to escape from her throat.

The only thing somewhat pleasing to look at was the beautiful head of curly pink hair on Kiku contrasting pleasantly with her all black get up. From afar people couldn’t tell but Gaia noticed the little crevices of her toned body peeking through the top and pants. She was not much older than Jimin but apparently had been fighting in less professional rings than this which led to a bubble of fear with the people around her.

As much Gaia admired the strength of fighters and boxers, it still did not help her anxiety seeing violence happen in front of her. Every punch always seemed like it was directed at her no matter how far away she was. The dancer understood pain and blood more than people really saw. Her feet were permanently ruined so watchers could admire her shoes, grace and movements. Even still to harm other people never settled with her.

Doors burst open as the cheering and shouting ripped through the thin cloth of safety, sweaty bodies rushing inside with smiles on their faces while Jimin was constantly patted on the back. Damp orange hair matted against golden skin riddled with blood splatters that did not belong to him. Except the grin he had tugged at his lips was so sweet and kind.

Gaia almost couldn’t believe that this man was the same person in the ring battering his opponent.

Kiku pulled her over closer as the fans were escorted away from the rooms by security. Soon the multiple bodies scattered down to just Jimin and his coach.

Jimin slumped onto the bench wiping off the back of his neck while his coach talked about booking the next match. When the huge faded away, the boxer became highly aware of the aching on his shoulder blades and stinging on his forehead.

“Let him breathe for a minute, will you?” Kiku retorted with a smile, gesturing for him to walk with her. “Ice and first aid kit.” She whispered to Gaia tapping on the boxes rested on the table behind them where the water tank was.

Jimin chuckled lightly, quietly telling the coach that he will think about it before he moved off leaving him alone with Gaia standing on the side. Smile drowned back into softened expression seeing the woman looking unsure as she shifted in her position. “If it helps I’m too tired.”

Gaia rolled her eyes turning to grab an ice bag and the first aid kit. Padding over, she knelt down on the bench just behind the male carefully placing the ice bag on the bruising.

The male hissed before groaning lightly as his body squirmed a little from the frosty touch. “I probably shouldn’t ask how you liked the match, yeah?”

“No you shouldn’t.” Her lips twitched, eyes following the little orange tinted trails of sweat flowing down his neck. “But you fight well within context I suppose.”

Jimin nodded even though it hurt to do so from the injury. “I can take that, thank you.”

“Keep your hand here.” Gaia requested. When Jimin obliged, she walked over to stand in front of him now with the first aid kit shifted towards them. Placing an antiseptic on the cotton pad the woman carefully tapped it onto the wound making the man wince. “You’ve taken punches but this bothers you?”

“I can’t show that it hurts in the ring.” He smiled watching her continue on with the work.

Gaia hated that she could relate to the idea so much. She could never start wincing and crying whenever everything hurt during a performance or her cramps would get so terrible that her vision blurred. It had be sucked in and used as strength to carry on. Always keep a smile on your face and perfect posture even if your feet bleed across the stage, one of her instructors used to say.

“You’re very good at this.” Jimin gestured with his one free hand.

“Ballerinas get bad injuries too. We have to know how to fix things up when needed.” Gaia spoke but her focus was on placing a gauze on the wound.

“Really? You get punched in the gut?”

She glared at the male before shaking her head. “It’s mostly on the feet.” Gaia took off her shoes immediately causing Jimin to look down and see the bandages wrapped around the balls of her feet, little red spots and healing bruises with a simple band aid on her second toe. “Still want me to come to your matches?” She teased gauging Jimins’ speechlessness.

Jimin flickered his gaze back to the girl and let out a chuckle. “Does it hurt right now?”

Gaia shook her head, light hum under her breath. “I get used to it after a while.”

“Would you ever get used to me then? What I do?” Eyes searched her expression as his words made the woman pause her actions for a moment. It was a shot in the dark asking such a question considering they only knew each other for little time.

She sighed gently placing bandage over the gauze while her fingers kept his hair out of the way.

Silence plunged into the room between the two of them as Gaia finished the dressing before moving her hand to the ice bag so she could hold it instead.

“Are you scared I’m going to hurt you?” Jimin’s tone rung so much more meek than Gaia prepared for. His eyes softened and droopy, bitten lips relaxed into a natural pout. How was it that someone so dangerous could look so gentle this up close?

“A little.” She whispered, wanting to speak honestly. Despite sensing a side of him that those people in the arena would never see right now. “I always think if you can knock people twice your size in the ring in a matter of seconds…” Gaia chose her words carefully. “I don’t exactly want to live my life terrified of making you angry.”

It took a lot out of his whole entire being not to protest heavily on her words but that kind of behavior would really just prove her point. Jimin never knew anything but fighting for what he got. Nobody ever gave him what he needed when he was kind especially not on the streets or even in his own home. A long trail of just fighting, scraping and surviving to get to this point and people loved him for it. They loved the story and journey.

“Fighting is your passion, I could tell when I saw you out there tonight.” Gaia’s fingers drenched at the layer of water droplets around the ice-bag. “It isn’t mine.”

He tilted his head. “Do you want me to give it up?”

Gaia furrowed her brows, stammering a little. “Of course I don’t. Why would you even do that for me?” She chuckled nervously.

Jimin shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before…not the kind that I liked anyway.”

“There’s a kind you don’t like?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” Ever since he rose up to fame, there were a lot of publicity projects to have him parading around with different models and actresses. Thankfully this year Jimin was able to keep himself busy enough for that to be non-existent.

Gaia smiled lightly. A small jolt of courage allowed her to reach out and brush away his hair from his face, warmth radiating between their close bodies. “I like you, Jimin.”

Jimin couldn’t help mimic her smile as his eyes glanced momentarily at her lips. “I like you too.”

She pulled the ice bag when there was nothing but sloshing heard from the inside and walked over to the table. As she placed it back in the mini fridge for it cool up again, she heard shifting from behind her.

He stood from the bench with a light groan when he tried to stretch his back a little. “I’m gonna go shower, you want to join me?”

Gaia glared at him over her shoulders, brows furrowed and mouth agape.

Jimin laughed as he backed away towards the lockers. “Just kidding.” He winked before disappeared down the little hallway that led to the showers.

God the excitement that momentarily rushed through infuriated her. She trained her whole life to keep a strong composure, head held high with a integrity that reached out for miles on end. Of course this was not talk of integrity. This was temptation. That little ache touching her lower belly whenever he smirked her way. Jimin made it so easy to just forget about elegance for a moment and jump into the ring to take what she wanted. The woman was trained to do jumps and leaps all the time.

Zipping down her coat, Gaia shrugged it off to reveal her plain black dress before padding over until the sounds of the shower grew louder.

Hot water trailed down his slightly bruised back, hair sleeked back already fading into a more pale orange and his new bandage already dampening. The shower was mostly opened with a tiny wall just at his waist covering the sides to hold things.

But from Gaia stood just behind him, the girl could see his entire silhouette. She tried to look away but something in her brain seemed to switch off. Steam emitted from the shower adding more warmth aside from the heat on her cheeks.

Jimin looked over his shoulder as he shifted and paused for a moment, the corner of his lips lifting a little. “Did you need something?”

The dancer stammered before swallowing down a small satisfied hum. “Your— your bandage…” She struggled a little as she gestured to her own forehead. A crude excuse to somehow validate her blatant staring at his naked body but Gaia’s proper words were lodged in her throat. Instead her eyes absentmindedly tracing across each toned line of his torso, glistening in the light, arms veiny from the match and his muscular thighs framing something that made her whole body burn like a furnace.

His faint smirk widened looking at how flustered the usually composed girl looked. Turning fully around to face her, he padded closer not really caring about the water droplets gathering around his feet onto the floor.

Gaia backed away as he came closer until her back halted against the wall leaving her to wait until Jimin stood right over her. Water dropped down from the strands of his hairs and some settling on his skin as the heat in the room made her break a slight sweat.

“You wanna fix it?” He muttered, their faces seconds apart to a point where he could see the tiniest little mole on her nose.

Chest rose and fell as Jimin inched even closer until the droplets touched the sides of her face, warmth clouding all judgement and replacing it with this magnet. Just a constant pull tempting her to take the leap.

Gaia closed the tiny space they had left and pressed her lips against his. A burst of curiosity and courage. But she pulled away to let out a shaky breath. “Sorry…”

Jimin grew speechless once again for a moment expecting her to push him away at any moment. His heart pounded right up to his throat, the small memory of her soft lips still lingering so strongly on his own.

Shit he needed more.

Breathing heavily, he cupped her cheeks to have her face him and kissed her, with the same gentle current but a personal intensity. Jimin wanted Gaia to feel the heat rush through his veins making them pulsate and yearn until his head spun. He forced himself to stay at this tantalizing pace, silently reassuring her that it was possible for him to be gentle. Even in the midst of immense desire tightening around his crotch.

Tongue brushed across her bottom lip making her part them just enough to invite him in so he could explore any inch of her that he could.

She traced her hands up his damp arms to his shoulders, the sounds of the shower running creating an ambience amongst the shared pleasure.

Tingles shot up her spine feeling Jimin’s hands trailed down her waist to her hips before wrapping both arms around her and diminishing even the slightest space left between them in a tight embrace. Steam flowed around the couple almost making them look a little hazy like they were lovers in a fog.

Gaia felt her clothes sticking to her dampening skin, lips still in a soul-catching lock that shortened her breath. Whining lightly at the heat she broke the kiss seeing Jimin’s lips so bitten it was to a near bruise.

Her hair felt almost just as damp as his, running his fingers through while succumbing to pressing a few soft kisses on her cheeks and jawline.

“Jimin!”

The ballerina jumped at the voice trying to keep her breath in check while Jimin backed away reluctantly and turned the shower off.

Quickly grabbing a towel to put around his waist, Jimin saw Kiku stomping over to where they were and waving away the fog.

“You trying to start a fire or something?” She chuckled before looking over at Gaia who attempt to look as nonchalant as possible despite standing here while Jimin was supposed to be showering. “Ah—sort of.” She teased.

Jimin smiled nervously, scratching the back of his head as he glanced at Gaia feeling the little nag that they were interrupted too early. “Is it an interview?” He asked.

Kiku nodded. “No it’s…about the opponent.”

Gaia’s heart jumped out of her chest almost predicting the news that was going to fall from her lips. The usual softened expression now contorted into one of concern.

“What is it?” Worry gripped his feature more so because Gaia stood in the room rather than his own. Jimin grew used to bad news at this point.

Kiku maintained her usual serious note for a few moments before a smile quickly stretched across her lips. “He’s okay. It was a broken nose and a few bruises…quite happy with being beaten up by you really. Your fans are fucking weird.”

“So were yours.” Jimin retorted with a smirk, gaze trailing over to Gaia who visibly let out a sigh of relief. It could have been just as easily turned the way around where the girl ran away from him if the news were of a different light.

“Speaking of fans, you two should probably get out of here, they’re getting more crowded out there.” Kiku glanced at the both of them before turning on her heel to leave.

Once Kiku walked away, the couple were left in an awkward silence very much aware of what they did a few minutes ago. Now that woozy heat from the steam faded away into the cool air it felt like they woke up from kind of dream. Gaia was almost not sure if it even happened but the light ache on her lips and the loss of consistent breathing spoke otherwise.

Jimin padded back closer with a towel covering his lower body now. “You alright?” He smiled faintly.

Gaia met his gaze, smile shyly twitching out but she hung her head to hide out. “Yeah I’m fine.” A slight chuckle passed through without her realizing.

“You’ll have to come in the car with me if the crowd’s already happened.” He explained padding over to the lockers where a bag rested on the bench.

She merely shifted a little to see him pulling out a few pieces of clothing.

“Will I have to come to your apartment too because of this inconvenience?” Gaia mused.

Jimin looked over his shoulder as he pulled a T-shirt down his toned torso, tiny laugh passing his lips. “If that’s not too much trouble, butterfly.”

Thankfully the man had pulled his boxers on already so her body could cool down a little more and she focused on his face. Not that it was much help with that stupidly beautiful smirk. “I can live with it for now.”

-

As Kiku said, the crowd was horrendous. Once the doors opened yelling and screaming similar to the kind inside the ring ensued, bodies pressed up against each other trying to get close to Jimin but the security guards easily pushed them back. Jimin pulled one of his hands out of his coat and held onto her hand, guiding her safely to the door.

Gaia could not really make out anything the people were saying which made her scooch close to the male. The only crowd she was used to were the quiet ones during her shows who merely ended it off with a round of applause. Jimin had to deal with near violent people attempting to touch him but he continued to smile through the whole thing.

Finally she saw a car door open and Jimin pressed a hand on her back to lead her inside first. Gaia quickly climbed, shifting to the side where someone tried to open the door but the security guards pressed his back against it.

The door finally slammed shut with the orange haired male letting out a sigh as the sounds of their screaming now muffled against all the doors.

“You deal with this every match?” She asked in a careful tone as the car drove away.

Jimin leaned back into the seat feeling all his limbs a lot cleaner but still exhausted and almost melting through the surface. He met Gaia’s gaze when her question posed, smile stretching on his lips. “When I win, yeah.”

“So every match then?” Gaia smirked, shifting closer to the middle seat so her shoulder pressed against his. “You must have a lot of people who’d love to date you. Especially who condones violence a little more.”

“I could.” He nodded, jutting his bottom lip out. “But then I’d have nothing to work for.”

“Do I make you work?” One of her brows raised up.

Jimin shrugged. “A lot of them just want me to be the same fighting machine as I am in the ring. It takes a lot more work for me to be a person.”

“That’s very deep, Mr. Park.” Gaia muttered, finger tracing down his cheek. “Do you think about stuff like that a lot?”

“Not a lot. Sometimes.”

Eyes searched his expression as her own softened into one of fondness. That was the side of him she could see peeking through. “Well if it helps…a fighting machine would never be so good at kissing.” Gaia gave him a bright grin as the male chuckled.

Jimin smiled down at his fingers before meeting her gaze, tongue darting out to lick his lips while glancing at hers. “That’s good to know.”

-

Car parked at his apartment building in the heart of the city. The couple were led to his penthouse with a crowd of security around them not a gap left between them. Guards dispersed to their different corners of the building to ensure that no one snuck through any door. Two more walked with them on the elevator before they were left alone at the room entrance.

Jimin unlocked the door, glancing back at the security guards before opening and letting Gaia walk in first.

Once the door clicked to a lock and they were both alone, Jimin dropped his keys on the kitchen counter just a few steps ahead. Padding closer to the girl his arms immediately wrapped around her waist and he buried his face into her shoulder.

Gaia couldn’t control the small giggle when she felt his warm embrace from behind as they waddled forward to where the sitting was. The apartment had an open plan, with the kitchen on their left facing the living room area while their right had a space for the gym, punching bag still intact and a clear view of the night city taking most of the wall in front of them. Slowly they moved to the living room still connected by Jimins arms.

“Aren’t you going to show me around the apartment?” She mused pulling away from his embrace and turning around to face him once they reached the couches. Every step he took the girl moved back as if playing a little game. It was strange acting this way in front of someone because Gaia always kept a veil over her, presenting herself as the perfect doll to admire.

“Where did you want to go?” Jimin asked shrugging off his coat and placing it on one of the chairs. “Shower again?” He smirked. “Maybe this time I won’t be the only one naked.”

“Is that what this is?” She smiled unzipping her coat once again as it dropped on the couch behind her. “Have you been trying to get me naked?”

“It’s one of the things.” He scrunched his nose finally halting as he stood over her. “Am I succeeding so far?”

Gaia leaned in a little letting their noses tap one another before giggling. “Aren’t you exhausted?” Hands rubbed up and down his arms, her voice dripping with every inch of mischief in her body.

“Not anymore.” Jimin whispered, hand reaching out to place a loose curl back. “Now I asked you a question, butterfly.”

“All my clothes are still on my body…” She placed her hands behind her back now shifting to the side, away from the couch. “So you’re going to have to work a little harder.” Gaia mused padding towards the kitchen counter with her hair bouncing in the process.

Jimin smirked feeling a fire in his lower belly at her teasing. “Well you seemed to be interested in something last time.” Fingers hooked at the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it on the couch before walking over to Gaia as she leaned against the counter.

The girl couldn’t help but bite down her bottom lip, golden torso still glowing a little in the light.

Bare arms now rested on either side of her gripping at the edge of the counter with every intention of preventing her escape. Light scent of water still lingering on both their bodies mixed into a fading remanence of Gaia’s perfume. “It’s your turn now.”

Gaia shook his head. “No, I have a dress on. If I take it off I’ll be in my knickers and you still have your pants on.” Her chin raised in confidence.

Jimin merely licked his lips wanting to desperately to just take them right there and then but she lured him into this play. The one match he could never win. “Fair enough.” His hands on his belt now, pulling at the leather strap while keeping his gaze on Gaia the whole time.

Gaia’s chest began to rise and fall watching the belt being thrown onto the floor then his veiny hands proceeded to unzip his pants before pushing it down to his ankles. Kicking it fabric away she was caged once again by Jimin’s arms.

“I believe it’s officially your turn now.”

Cheeks burning a little, Gaias’ fingers hooked at the hem of her dress before pulling it over her head. Curls covered most of the girls face once the clothing got discarded onto one of the stools.

Jimin couldn’t help but chuckle as he brushed away all the wild hair from Gaias face, a few strands sticking to her glowing cheeks. Lips practically magnetized together in another heated dance previous interrupted. He almost forgot the game being played once his mind drowned into the feeling of her warm kiss calming down every tightened nerve knotted inside him. Except on in particular only grew stronger in his lower belly, blood rushing to his crotch as his hands explored her bare crevices.

Gaia pulled away from the lip lock, letting out a deep shaky breaths as she reached behind and unclasped her bra letting it to the ground between them. Within seconds the male ducked down to press his tongue against the tender skin sliding to her nipple and suckling hungrily.

Arms pushed her up to sit on the counter making the girl gasp as his teeth accidentally sunk into the sensitive area.

Bottom pressed harshly just at the edge of the counter, she spread her legs apart for their distance to be closed completely. Jimin embraced her waist as his lips trailed from the valley of her breasts, to her torso before hovering over the clothed core.

Gaia could already feel pooling between her legs, arousal soaking through the thin fabric. It only ruined more when Jimin pressed his thumb against her clothed clit. Head threw back as her hips leaned into his touch trying to get as much friction as possible but he only lightened the pressure to torture her.

A whine uttered in Gaia’s throat before she grabbed him by the neck and locked their lips together once more, wrapping her legs around his waist. Jimins’ hardening clothed cock pressed her soaking pussy as their tongues danced in a slight battle to somehow express the built up tension.

Jimin grabbed her ass to keep her secure around his waist before carrying her to the bedroom situated on his right.

Sloppily kicking the door open, the man almost stumbled until he finally threw her onto the bed.

Gaia chuckled as she landed on the soft surface, silk sheets gracing her skin while having a gorgeous view of a bothered Jimin pushing his boxers off and kicking them to the side. Her own fingers hooked at her destroyed panties and stripped them down, the thin clothing hung at her ankle.

Jimin hovered over her figure kissing Gaias knees and thighs before brushing his lips towards her puffy pussy. A smirk played on his features as he moved back up watching the girl squirm at the teasing. “Still want to play the game?”

She smiled pushing against Jimin so he could shift onto his back.

Jimin was a little taken aback by the action, breathe hitched in his throat but it quickly dissipated when the gorgeous woman climbed on top.

Both legs on either side of him, wetness rubbed against his hardened member with the same amount of grace as she would in any dance but doused in a little mischief and thousand times stronger dose of passion. Jimin clasped onto her hips almost like his life depended on it. Each rub causing an aching twitch that awakened the warm pool in his lower belly.

Gaia rested her hands on his torso to keep herself balanced. Knees weakened when his cock rubbed against a sensitive spot, her entire body melting more into his touch. Staring down, she watched his tip redden and leak the closer she got to it, pre-cum glistening in the light while dripping onto his torso.

Breathing grew shaky as Gaia kept her movements tantalizingly slow. Nails dug into her thighs, a more impatient side of him wanting to move her body faster but he forced himself to keep control. Instead Jimin filled his mind up to the brim at all surges of pleasure trembling through his veins the moment she rubbed against her tip.

Her slick entrance spewed more and more arousal at every torturous rub. Moving one of her hands behind her body, she kneaded his balls, heavy from his awaiting release making Jimin throw his head back into the pillow.

Gaia pressed her core right against his tip creating a little more friction. She rubbed it on her clit, the heat in her belly tightening but she raised herself up and halted her actions. Both their light whines mixed in with one another in deprivation of their edge.

Slowly she rubbed against the base of his cock and moved her hands back on his torso.

Jimin scoffed out a light moan, digging holes into the skin of her hips from the way he gripped onto them. “Fuck baby I can’t—” He whispered.

“What do you say?” Gaia spoke in such a delicate tone but it exuded so much power, Jimin felt tingles down his entire body.

His rising chest glistened a little from the overwhelming heat huddled around their growing bubble of sin. Eyes lazy and drooping as he watched the faery continue to torture his cock with a brush of her core. “Please—please, please baby…”

“Please what?” She leaned in, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Gaze fixated on the lightly heaving male as her lips pressed wet kisses on his chest.

Jimin growled under his breath. God he could never remember feeling this helpless in the best way possible. The pressure a little heavier when she leaned in but pressed hard enough to make it utterly difficult to come undone. “Please, baby—fuck me…I wanna be inside you, please…”

Accomplishment rushed through Gaia as she moved to her original position, slightly dampened curls falling gracefully over her shoulder and face. Lifting herself up again, one of her hands wrapped around the heavy, hard shaft before positioning it at her entrance. Her soaking core easily swallowed every inch as Gaia slid down.

All his breathing caught in his throat in the few intense moments where he felt his aching cock finally being warmed up by her snug walls. Forehead knitted, pouty lips parted as Jimin’s whole focus fixated on his member disappearing completely inside her.

Gaia had to let out a sigh, almost grabbing at his torso as she tried to adjust to the long awaited feeling. Dull ache quickly faded into a dizzying hot pleasure making her instinctively grind her hips against his. She moved torturously slow allowing him to take every tiny spark and tug at all the right nerves in their writhing bodies.

Jimin bent his knees and carefully met her thrusts, trembling moan mixing in with her whimpering breaths.

Sloshing sounds resonated louder as Gaia increased her pace rubbing at that beautiful spot causing every limb to shake in the new tickles of ecstasy. Jimin’s thrusts grew a little more harsh, balls hitting her ass every time their sweaty skin slapped against each other.

She followed his tingling rhythm, practically bouncing on his cock in a steady heated pattern. Gaia’s head threw back as her moans echoed through the room almost drowned out by the sounds of their sinful pounding.

Jimin almost felt hypnotized by her gorgeous breasts bouncing up and down almost jiggling as their pace into a fast and brutal race. Reddened member drilling into her burning entrance as it clenched around him.

“Oh god—” Gaia whimpered gripping onto Jimin’s shoulders as the warm spot inside her got ravaged by his pulsating cock.

Growling like an animal, he grabbed her by the waist and flipped them around. Legs spread wide Jimin stroked his drenched and glistening shaft before sliding back into her.

Gaia’s wild curls hovered over her eyebrows, wanting to squirm at the sudden empty feeling before her walls were stretched once again with ease. His arms jabbed on either side of her.

Fingers curled around them for a grip as Jimin wasted no time before continuing his thrusts at a brutal pace. “You want me to go slower?” He asked in an extremely shaky tone.

She shook her head frantically, the desperate rolling to the edge coming closer at every burning drill into her core. “Keep going.” Gaia whispered. “Please keep going—” Her free hand slid down to rub at her clit even through his lower belly slapped into it at a beautifully maddening pattern.

Jimin groaned unable to maintain his own fucking sanity watching her take his cock so well and only ask for more. He buried his cock deep inside and paused for a moment, grinding into the back of her hand to give more pressure on her clit. “God you’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathed out.

Toes curled in a little, light aches beating from her healing bruises while he stuffed himself inside her completely. Gaias’ eyes almost rolled to the back of her head but she was allured by his voice. A small chuckle leaving her lips at his words. “So are you.”

The man smiled leaning in to kiss her slightly drying lips from heaving in the heavy midst of pleasure. Hips began a steady pattern once again welcoming back the tumble towards the edge.

In a matter of seconds Jimins’ thrusts turned into an onslaught, mind-numbing pace that caused even the bed to tremble under his movements.

Gaia’s nails raked down his forearm feeling the warmth in her lower belly tighten until the only thought rushing through her mind was reaching that edge. “I’m cumming…” She almost cried out.

“I know, baby…” He could feel her walls clenching around his cock dragging his orgasm to the point of no return.

Whimpering moans flooded out of the woman as the coil in her belly sprung free, warm explosions bursting through and pumping into every veins until she momentarily could only see a flash of white.

Pulling out Jimin immediately spurted out his release onto her stomach, fingers wrapping around the tip making his hips jerk. Eyes flickered down to see Gaia slowly rubbing her sensitive clit to drag out her orgasm. The sight alone caused an extra tingle down his spine. “You should get stuck in the locker rooms with me more often.” He spoke through heavy breaths.

Gaia giggled playfully tapping his chest. “I’ll try to drag my time out in the next match.”

A smirk stretched across Jimin’s lips. “Does that mean you’re coming to the next match?”

“Towards the end.” Her bottom lip pouted out a little. “And less injuries.”

He nodded reaching into a tissue box just to gently wipe off the excess on her stomach. “Less injuries…” Jimin leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Promise.”

-

As the gentle light of the morning flowed in, Gaia wrapped her freshly moisturized body in a thick white robe before she walked out of the bedroom.

Bare feet pattered across the penthouse apartment adorned in nothing but her robe, curls still a little messy and a subtle pink tinge on her lips. Gaia paused in her tracks as the sound of chain clanging and leathery thuds pulsed in the air.

Now on her tiptoes, the woman attempted to be a little quieter as she observes Jimin.

Exposed upper half, back glistening in sweat illuminating all the little crevices that tensed out at every punch and the fading bruise on his shoulder blade. Despite the cool air Jimin still was able to create his own personal radiator around his skin from the constant training.

Painful to admit but Gaia grew a little uncomfortable seeing the quick, hard punches he swung onto the punching bag. Of course she understood why he did it and he was simply hitting an object but it still created an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

Each impact onto the leather made her jump more and more until the girl succumbed to rushing over to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, Gaia turned on the coffee grinder machine to maybe help drown some of the noises from the other side. This was his job. This was his job. You can’t stop him from training just like he can’t stop you.

Jimin paused mid-swing hearing the grinder turn on, looking over his shoulder but only saw a glimpse of something white peeking out of the corner. He waved out his maroon shirt to cool himself off through thankfully the AC helped him from overheating.

Carefully he walked over to the kitchen corner to see a long waterfall of a curls and an unforgettable figure wrapped in a white robe. Leaning against the kitchen counter, Jimin unwrapped the cloth around his hands. “Morning.”

Gaia jumped with a gasp almost dropping the empty espresso cup in her hand but she quickly hugged it to her chest. She chuckled breathlessly. “Morning.” Gaze stayed focused on the coffee machine even though she could feel his eyes burning through her.

“You okay? Not usually that jumpy.” Jimin squinted placing the cloth on one of the stools before moving closer until he stood right behind the girl. “More than usual anyway aside from the ballerina stuff.”

“I just—” She glanced over her shoulder before facing in front of her. “I don’t usually wake up to…punching. Takes a bit of getting used to.”

Jimin parted his lips as the realization brushed through his mind. “Did my soft butterfly get frightened?” Arms carefully snaked around her waist, face buried into her shoulder.

Gaia whined lightly trying to pull away from his grasp. “Ah don’t, you’re sweaty.”

“You didn’t mind that last night.” His brows furrowed.

“That’s because we were both being dirty, I’ve just showered.” She couldn’t control the smile that ghosted over her lips at the thought of last night’s activities.

Despite her protests, Jimin pressed her closer against his body relishing in her warmth. “That’s too bad now you have to shower again with me.” He chuckled under his breath as his hand snuck into the opening of her robe, feeling the under curve of her breast. “I’ll just do other workouts in the morning. No more punching at this time.”

Gaias’ smile widened seeing Jimin already making compromises without her even asking to do so. “Thank you.”

It was an unlikely match, the elegant dancer and the ruthless fighter but once they cuddled up in their own private bubble, all the hinderance disappeared. It was just wholeheartedly and lovingly them in their rawest forms.

[mable-stitchpunk]

Please rant abt fnaf interpretations I am, all ears

.I didn't expect such a positive response! 8D I got a few asks for them, and I'll see if maybe I can reply to a few of them with different interpretations...

...Also-

Let's begin with the rants. You might've seen some of these points before, but I'll bring them back up because I desire to.

1. The ghosts of the Missing Children are evil.

I don't read a lot of fanworks anymore, but I used to loathe when I would find those fics where the murdered children would be portrayed as vindictive little monsters who were going out of their way to ruin everyone's lives. Possessing main characters and forcing animatronics to go against their wishes to attack innocents for little reason.

I find this is the reason I also don't like the "animatronics are sentient and possessed by second consciousness" headcanon. Not all of them are bad, mind, you, but many of them eventually go the earlier route.

Why I hate this is because it's never a situation where we're being led to see the children as sympathetic, or corrupted by time, but a way to make the Missing Children less sympathetic to the audience. Or to raise drama by having a slew of ghosts who feel no sympathy and cannot be stopped.

Other versions show them as being especially bratty or excessively mischievous, which I just find a little annoying.

Funny enough, I don't think a child's soul going rogue is a bad idea. Such as in the case of Andrew, who I feel was massively underutilized. You can just tell when it is a pull to make the reader see in a specific direction. You can tell when there's a subconscious desire to make the murders seem 'not that bad'.

Also, the idea that the ghosts of dead children are evil because they're looking for justice for their deaths is kind of frustrating when so many headcanons try to excuse William's actions by suggesting that something traumatic triggered them.

Of course, in these cases the children are seldom actually looking for their murderer and instead are just circling around someone else.

...Oh yeah, and since we're on it-

2. William killed those children for revenge. (As a defense)

Specifically, when this is NOT used as a plotpoint, but instead used as a blame shield for William Afton. You can usually tell the difference by how the effect is cast on William.

If the tone is: William lost someone and then went on a kamikaze mission to ruin everyone's lives. Then typically it's fine.

If the tone is: William killed a lot of people- but he only did it because he lost his x! Then it gets frustrating.

It's the same boat as that Henry depression excuse, though it's worse in this case because William didn't just murder children, it's suggested that he hunted and tortured them, and then brought them back to continue making them suffer as animatronics.

3. William was a scientist.

Don't give him that much credit. This man didn't start doing science experiments until the plot got so elaborate that they needed to one-up him with himself.

4. Henry was a good father.

I absolutely loathe this one, because it hinges off of the novel's version of Henry, who actively abandoned one of his children to obsess on the other one. To the point of forcibly bringing them back without caring if the other existed- and then ditching that one too.

Sammy Emily does not exist to the FNAF fanbase. He's not a sympathetic character or an important character, he's just a plotpoint that's written out when it comes time for the big Shyamalan twist. He's pretty much totally ignored.

And by his father too. Henry never acknowledges Sammy, never cares about Sammy. He only cares about what happened to Charlie.

...But not enough to do anything about it.

Which is why I think a little acknowledgement that Henry wasn't great just because he died would go a long way. I won't even go into his more egregious actions.

5. Circus Baby's sexualization.

This is one actually backed by canon, but that doesn't make it any better. I hate the constant sexualization of Circus Baby... and especially the hypocrisy that surrounds it.

Let me give you one example of an event I had once.

When I was first writing CGHA and Mike and Mari got together, there were a lot of people who apparently missed the numerous references to the fact that Mari had aged in his many years as a puppet. This meant that Mari was now an adult, but they said since he died as a child that he is still a child. The word pedophilia was dropped a few times.

These are the SAME people who are all gung-ho about Baby dolled up in a sexy human body with skimpy skirts and long boots, dolled up by her daddy. But isn't SHE still a child?

Well, no... Because she's a bad girl, so she doesn't count.

Get off with that.

6: Vanny is in love with William Afton.

Unless we're talking Stockholm Syndrome, I don't think you're going to love a demonic entity possessing you and threatening to break your fingers if you do the wrong thing. I guess you can say that's abusive love, but like Joker and Harley Quinn, people somehow manage to forget that aspect.

I've gone into this before, so I'm not going to rant on it again. Largely because I don't know how FNAF will portray Vanny, and it's not above them to take inspiration from other sources.

Now, unlike some of these other headcanons, I THINK someone could actually write a story and make this work if they acknowledged that it was beyond "toxic". Vanny would have to be emotionally and mentally crippled to respond positively to such treatment, but it is possible if it was backed up with behavioral issues and a backstory.

You'd have to get on Silent Hill 2 levels of backstory, but it is possible if you want to go that dark.

---

I think I'll end it there for now. I know some of these might be hot takes, but I'm just voicing my thoughts here. Again, not saying anyone's wrong for holding these interpretations, but I think they should consider why they hold them.

Because it looks to me like these are used-

1: To make this Missing Children Incident less severe. 2: To make William Afton more sympathetic. 3: To make William Afton look cool. 4: To make Henry a martyr in contrast with William. 5: To have a forced femme fatal. 6: To underplay how gross the possession aspect- especially when it is a middle-aged man in complete control of a young woman's body and actions.

...But hey! That's just me. Rant over, for now. XD

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Some thoughts about SteveBucky (and why it was deliberate in the CATFA and CATWS narrative)

As you might know, nowadays my approach to the MCU canon is pretty much on the lines of, the movies are Kevin Feige’s shitty fanfiction of a concept that could have been good and was attempted at intervals at the beginning at various levels but not executed, and the story and the characters are just suggestions I can play with in my mental sandbox.

But occasionally I like to listen to the Captain America: The Winter Soldier soundtrack to remember how it felt to be in love with that movie, and today that got me in the kind of mood where I am actually convinced that bisexual Steve and SteveBucky as a romantic dynamic were in fact written deliberately into the narrative, or, better, are structural elements of the narrative, because the emotional narrative is structurally made of parallels between the relationship between Steve and Peggy - the relationship of the past - and the relationship between Steve and Bucky - the relationship of the future - and it’s all too architectural in the narrative to not be deliberate.

In particular today I’ve been thinking about pictures. There’s the obvious parallel between the way the 40s story in CATFA and the body of CATWS end, one with Peggy looking at a picture of Steve before his transformation from a SSR file, while Howard tries to help by going looking for Steve, one with Steve looking at a picture of Bucky before his transformation from a Hydra file, while Sam offers to help go looking for him. But I’ve also been thinking about the scene in the Smithsonian in CATWS, and what the infamous picture of Peggy in the compass was about in that scene.

We assume that the compass was the only relevant object Steve had on himself when he crashed the plane and this was found; someone from Shield must have been, here we found this on you, take it back. Basically, it’s Steve’s only belonging in his new life. But here’s the irony: it’s a picture of a person (the only person of Steve’s smallest circle of people close to him) who is actually still alive.

The movie juxtaposes Steve’s visit to Peggy, alive and changed by time, to Steve’s visit to the secular altar to Bucky in the exhibition, crystallized in the past. It’s in fact an interesting detail that, in the museum scene, we only see pictures or wordless footage of Bucky, while we see footage of Peggy where she speaks; she has a voice in both the museum and real life, while Bucky doesn’t have a voice--we literally meet him masked and muted. (Peggy’s responsibility in what happened to Bucky, as the director of the organization Hydra flourished as a parasite of, is a potential the third Captain America movie could have tapped into, if they’d actually decided to make a third Captain America movie. RIP Captain America 3, we’ll never forget you. But this is is not relevant to this post.)

So, Peggy has lived - she has grown older, she physically carries the signs of the time she’s lived through, and even the footage in the museum shows her slightly older than we left her in the first movie, and in color, a deliberate emphasis that the footage was taken later than the time Steve left; Bucky, on the other hand, is unchanged, both in the museum and in real life. In the museum, assumed dead, he’s “frozen” in images from the past (in black and white); in real life, he’s literally been frozen to the point he’s not aged much.

Steve carries a black and white picture of Peggy with him, inside his compass, and the scene compares it with the footage - from a later time, in color, in motion, where Peggy has a voice. That Peggy from the compass is dead to Steve, and he mourns her just like he mourns the man whose black and white images are shown at the museum.

Except that the picture in the compass is something he can mourn privately; it’s, as we said, his only belonging. In fact, it’s ironic that he now has a picture of Peggy, and no one else. In the first movie, we see why: Steve and the Howling Commandoes went on missions on the frontlines of the war, Peggy belonged with the strategic command of the army. So Steve would keep a picture of her to remember her by as they were apart - it would make no sense for him to keep a picture of Bucky, because Bucky was there with him. It’s ironic because Bucky sees the picture and is jealous, but the point is that Steve doesn’t need a picture to remember him by when they’re together.

Of course, Bucky’s presumed death parts them. And Steve finds himself with no pictures of Bucky with him, and needs to visit the museum to mourn him in front of images of him. And this is an interesting point because Steve can mourn past Peggy privately - as he owns the compass with her picture, something that belongs to him and no one else has access to - but he cannot mourn Bucky privately, because he owns no object that connect him to Bucky, so he needs to go to a public place to be able to see an image of him.

In order to mourn Bucky properly, in front of a memorial of him, he is forced to do it in a place that not only is public, but is actually a place where his personal history is treated like a museum curiosity to put on display for everyone to consume.

There’s something deeply poignant in the fact that he hides, that he pretends to be someone else, in order to mourn his deceased male companion - the scene emphasizes that Steve does not want to be recognized, and the metaphor of him hiding his real identity to have an emotional moment regarding Bucky is not so subtle. (Yes, there is material of Peggy in the Smithsonian scene but the scene contains Steve’s visit to Bucky in parallel to Steve’s visit to Peggy in person, so I feel authorized to read the scene as mostly a visit to Bucky, especially since at the end of the movie Bucky also visits his own memorial there, emphasizing the cruciality of that picture in the narrative.)

In fact, the whole hidden identity to visit Bucky thing is not accidental because later, when he needs to confront Bucky, he steals his old uniform from the same exhibition: before finding out about Bucky, he wears incognito clothes to hide his identity, after finding out about Bucky, he reclaims a powerful sign of that identity - the uniform he wore when he fought alongside Bucky - basically breaking it out of the closet. It’s not a coincidence that earlier in the movie he wears a monochrome uniform meant to be unseen, either: the movie plays a lot on secrecy and openness regarding Steve’s identity, and the pivotal element in this narrative is Bucky. Steve reclaims his identity in parallel to trying to give Bucky’s identity back to him. It is a movie about identity and closets after all.

To go back to something I mentioned earlier, you have the contrast of the black-and-white picture of Peggy in the compass with the in-color, speaking, living Peggy; and that contrast highlights the deep difference between the two, because Peggy has lived a long life and grown older and changed. And then you have the contrast between the black-and-white picture of Bucky in the museum with the living Bucky, and in this case the parallel shows how little Bucky has actually been allowed to change, he’s been frozen in time, allowed no voice, allowed no change, no motion.

Steve, unlike Peggy, hasn’t gotten to live his life, but has been frozen in time, like Bucky. Shared life experience and all that jazz...

These fuckers (writers? directors? I don’t know) had the idea of writing two love interests for the titular character and framing the m/f relationship as the relationship of the past, and the m/m relationship as the relationship of the future, as one does, and built the emotional narrative on parallels between the two, and everything was fun and games until Disney Marvel ruined it all because they realized, I suppose. I mean, no, not everything was fun and games because things could have been written a lot better especially in regards of *gasp* female characters, that rarely work in the hands of misogynistic writers, but the two movies, with varying degrees of success, did something interesting (the theme of masculinity in CATFA is so fascinating) that was nice as long as it lasted. At least I’ll be thinking this until I get enraged at some shit they said and change my mind again. #saladforbucky

As always you’re welcome to share thoughts, questions, comments, whatever.

[anna-pixie]

obsession

Summary: The Joker saves your life during his heist of Gotham Bank. Now you owe him one. This marks the start of a deadly obsession.

Pairings: Ledger!Joker x Reader

Warnings: Violence

*

PART ONE

*

Anxiety is a funny thing, isn’t it. Here I am, standing in a line in Gotham bank, in the midst of 100s of people who couldn’t care less what I’m doing. Yet, my brain is telling me that every single one of these people is judging me. For what? Could be anything, how loud I’m breathing, what I’m wearing, the way I styled my hair this morning. My hands shake slightly by my sides and I dart my eyes from side to side to see if people are really looking at me like I think they are.

 It has been worse lately, I haven’t been on my medication for the last few months because I simply can’t afford it anymore. It was a vicious cycle. I got a pay cut at work, so I had to sacrifice my meds, then as my mental health started slipping, I was too anxious to work and ended up quitting.

So here I am, about to withdraw the last of my money from my bank account so I can pay my shady new landlord 6 months rent in cash. I’ll have about $200 left for groceries and other things and then I’m fucked.

 I prepare what I’m going to say to the bank teller for the 100th time in my head, but just before I step forward to the desk, gunshots rain through the air. I squeal, dropping my bag on the floor as I duck down, shuffling towards the far wall of the bank to try and evade the gun shots. I only realise my mistake when I take a moment to look around and realise literally every other person is hiding behind a desk or some form of protection, yet here I am completely out in the open.

I pull my legs up to my chest, thankful I didn’t decide to wear a skirt today as I look over my knees, trying to decipher what on earth is going on. I’m used to hearing about things like this, I made the mistake of coming to Gotham to study last year, and now I’ve used up all of my funds and am stuck here. I’m lucky I’ve never been caught up in any of the serious crime in the city. I was mugged once but compared to some of the things that happen here I was lucky.

My eyes follow the men who are clad in clown masks, as they disperse around the bank, probably going to the vaults to find money. Two clowns remain in the main hall with us and there is a moment of calm before more gun shots ring out and I whimper once more. My brows furrow as I survey the scene and realise that neither of the clowns, who have now shielded themselves behind a desk, are shooting.

I realise with a chill shooting down my spine that one of the clowns is staring right at me, gaze unwavering, since the way they have shielded themselves leaves them facing me. The mask this particular clown wears is kind of grimy, a permanent frown painted on. His head tilts to the side ever so slightly as he gazes at me, I don’t even want to imagine who lurks underneath the mask. I’m relieved from his gaze when his partner speaks to him, the two of them attacking the man who is shooting at them.

 I close my eyes, rocking back and forth slightly as I try to block out this situation. They’re clearly here for the money, so if I don’t bother them then they won’t hurt me, right? I ignore the confrontation occuring, only opening my eyes again when a shadow falls in front of me.

The other clown stands in front of me, his back to me as he points his gun at the frowning clown. Huh, I thought they were working together? The frowning clown doesn’t seem too concerned by the gun pointed at his head, and he lowers his gaze to meet me once more. My eyes widen and I can’t drag them away from his. He raises his hand suddenly and I flinch, thinking he is going to pull out a gun but instead he gestures to the side with his thumb, eyes still fixed on me. I quickly realise he’s telling me to move to the side, I pause for a second and he gestures more aggressively.

I don’t know why but something deep inside me tells me to listen to him, and I quickly crawl as far away as I can. “Oh, no, no, no. I killed the bus driver.” I shiver at the sound of his voice. It’s light and dark at the same time, menacing yet childish. Why do I like it?

Another scream rips through me as the wall I was previously sitting in front of is obliterated as a bright yellow school bus crashes through it. Oh my God… this is why he told me to move. Did he just save my life? The man pointing a gun at him is unconscious, dead from the impact I assume and the frowning clown ruthlessly shoots the man who crashed the bus into the bank. No sounds escape me this time, I think I’ve gone numb to what is happening. I vaguely note the clown talking to the gunned down bank manager and as he stands up, I’m not prepared for the sight that greets me.

He’s removed his mask, yet he’s wearing another one underneath in the form of bright, messy face paint. The majority of his face is painted a harsh white, the black circles around his eyes contrasting sharply and making his eyes seem like neverending pits. His lips are painted a deep red, but it extends further than that and I quickly realise he is covering up some mangled scars. I can’t tear my eyes away from him as he walks back towards the bus. He has a strange walk, he’s skipping slightly, but he looks as if he is trying to run away from something without it looking obvious that he is running.

As if feeling my eyes on him, his snap over in my direction and he pauses mid step. He changes course and to my horror, walks over until he is standing directly in front of me, towering over me as I gulp. He grins, baring his yellow teeth at me and reaches forward. I squeal, quickly becoming confused when he grabs my chin, tilting my head back so I’m staring right at him.

“I, ah, saved your life, toots,” His gloved thumb rubs over my chin, brushing against my lip slightly, “You owe me one.” He winks, and then as quickly as he came, he is gone. Leaving nothing but destruction in his wake, I can’t help but wonder why a part of me wanted to climb into that bus with him.

[loz-furbies]

My ranking the four races

Since there’s a lot of repeating elements in the four peoples of the champions, it’s fun to compare them to each other.

Champions

Revali - Revali my beloved. Tsundere bird. Apart from Zelda has the most noticeable character arc. Creates tension in a story where most allies are friendly with you from the start. Best AoC theme (no contest here) and he gets two!

Mipha - Such a sweetheart and lovely voice, and I like the childhood friends thing she has with Link. Also has a great sibling relationship with Sidon.

Urbosa - Really cool, and the most mentally sound of the group. Suffers a bit from the fact that she’s already grown up and content with herself, so we don’t see her struggle with any personal obstacles. Also since a lot of her story related more to Zelda than Link, I felt a bit like a bystander as the player.

Daruk - Balances the cast nicely but doesn’t do much for me on his own, other than his friendship with Link. Like Urbosa is already an adult so we don’t really see much personal struggles from him. Too much of his focus is about food.

Champion successors

Sidon - Before playing the game I had the impression that Sidon would be very serious and stoic so the himbo energy took me by surprise. I really like how positive and friendly he is, especially when everything is always some kind of trial to Link where he has to prove himself. So it’s so nice that someone is enthusiastically on his side right away.

Riju - I really like Riju, she has a great design and the contrast between her age and still being one of the smartest and mentally sound of the cast is interesting. Which works well with her hidden more childlike side too. It’s like she got Urbosa’s great qualities, and also has weaknesses to overcome to make her easier to root for.

Teba - It’s nice that one of the characters is already an adult who has a family. He’s described as being quick to anger but I didn’t see that much and to me he came across as pretty reasonable. I would have liked to see more of this side of him (or more of him in general). 

Yunobo - I don’t have anything specific against Yunobo but of the major characters he is the one I think the least about. He does have a decent character arc though.

Champion powers

Revali - Makes getting around so much easier and saves rainy days. The best (and only really) of the powers to in terms of character importance; Revali developing his on his own is very relevant to his character, while we don’t really get to know how the others feel about theirs.

Daruk - I can’t use shields so Daruk saves me from guardian lasers.

Urbosa - Useful since I also suck at combat. I like that the offensive ability was given to a female character.

Mipha - The first one I got and very useful in the beginning, but as you get more hearts and better armour it gets so easy not to die that I haven’t needed this in ages. Storywise super healing powers create issues by trivialising injuries.

Hometown

Rito Village - I’m a creature of North and feel at home in the middle of the snow and evergreen trees. Best music. I had a memorable experience stumbling here without a map.

Gerudo Town - Feels the most like an actual place where people live their lives outside the player’s actions and there’s a lot of little things to find. I especially like the secret clothing shop and how you can take part in the romance and cooking classes. And the marketplace is great as a gameplay element and I can easily imagine it bustling with people.

Zora’s Domain - I want to like Zora’s Domain more because it’s Sidon’s home but I have a lot of issues. The architecture is very pretty but it feels implausible and weird for an aquatic race, like I’d rather imagine canals and underwater locations. And the gameplay and story segregation here bothers me a lot; the Zora actually know Link and Sidon is supposedly his close friend but you still have to pay to heal at the hotel?

Goron City - Suffers from the fact that I don’t care much for the Gorons and there aren’t that many reasons to visit here (and when I do I’m forced to wear the uncute armour). 

[thenexusofsouls]

Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

{i am the caretaker of souls} This got long, haha, so I’ll put it under a cut.

Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

So... Tony’s relationships with various members of his family are complicated and not always positive, but the following five people mean the most to him, and with each of them, he’s tried to do the right thing at least at some point in his life. With some it worked better than others, for varying reasons, but I’ll focus on these and describe his relationship with them a little:

Father, Howard Stark: Oh boy. Where do I begin. There was so much wrong with Tony’s relationship with his dad. Both of them were incredibly intelligent and very arrogant, and that caused a huge ego clash between them, but for different reasons. Howard never felt that Tony lived up to his expectations as a son, although half the time he didn’t really give him half a chance or bother to notice when Tony did do something productive, constructive, good, noteworthy, etc. Tony wanted his father’s love, attention, and approval, but often went about it the wrong away, trying to stand out with bad behavior rather than positive achievements. Whenever they met in the middle and could have had a chance at bonding, the two of them were so defensive or closed off that they just couldn’t open up to each other. This never really got resolved, and then Howard was killed, so Tony was left with not only a huge hole in his heart from the love he felt he never really got from Howard, but also an emotional wound that would never have any closure.

Mother, Maria Stark: Tony loved his mother to bits, although when he was younger he often pretended like she worried to much and sometimes smothered him. From Maria, Tony got the love he felt he never got from his dad, but it was almost too easy. She just gave it unconditionally, and in some ways that offset what he wasn’t getting from his dad so much more because of the dramatic contrast in how his parents treated him. She was the softer, forgiving, understanding, encouraging parents in contrast to Howard’s aloof, distant, businesslike fathering. She was the one person in his life that he felt safe going to in any kind of vulnerable way, and losing her left Tony feeling very alone and isolated in a way he couldn’t express to other people... so he bottled it all up.

Girlfriend/Wife, Pepper Potts: Ugh. This relationship, in my opinion, was terrible and toxic. He was distant, defensive, and he abused alcohol to an extreme. Also he put her in danger either by accident or inadvertently with things he said or did. His communication was never the greatest and his coping mechanisms were unhealthy at best. She shamed Tony for his trauma responses as if they were personality flaws he should be ashamed of (scattered memory, nightmares, panic attacks, etc.), used walking out on him as a threat and emotional weapon against him whenever she just didn’t feel like dealing with him, and often was not there for him when he needed her. But... Tony genuinely loved her and something must have been good enough for both of them for them to want to make it work, and somehow, eventually, it did. I think once Tony knew he wasn’t going to lose her (the threat of her always just wanting to leave really kept him on edge in a way that was damaging to his mental health), he calmed down and some of his behaviors and coping mechanisms actually got better, which then in turn made Pepper want to stay with him and work it out, so those two things fed off each other in a positive way. Her actually marrying him brought about an emotional stability Tony never had before, both within himself and in a relationship. He settled down considerably after that and was much more stable mentally once he had her full support. He loves her with all his heart and there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for her.

Older Daughter, Carter Stark: This is going to sound terrible, haha, so I’ll preface it by saying that Tony loves Carter immensely. She’s his daughter and all he wants to do is keep her safe and make sure she has the best life she can. But... in many ways, she’s also a symbol of some of the worst times in his life, some of the worst things about himself, and some of the worst things he’s ever done. He slept around, he let people down, he got people killed, he wasn’t there for the ones he loved, etc. She reminds him of a lot of things about himself that he wishes weren’t true or didn’t happen. Her existence has also made him wonder on many occasions whether he might have other children whose mothers never knew he was the father or chose not to even inform him. He loves her, as I said, but there’s also just this aching pain and guilt he feels with her that he didn’t do enough for her, didn’t protect her well, or even that her life might have been better had she not known him. Some of that is his own anxiety telling him things that aren’t true, but some of it is due to events that happened that he knows have affected Carter’s mental health that Tony feels responsible for, either through his own actions or by the company he kept at the time. So Carter reminds Tony of the worst, lowest, and most broken aspects of himself, and I think that will always cause him to believe that he was a terrible father to her. He’s spent many hours wishing that he had done more for her in some way and had been able to be a better father than Howard was to him.

Younger Daughter, Morgan Stark: If Carter is a symbol of how bad a father he could be and some of Tony’s worst qualities, the Morgan is a symbol of the best he could be. Morgan in many ways is Tony’s redemption. Other people outside looking in might say his actions during Endgame were redeeming, or that he had moments before that throughout the franchise that helped redeem parts of him along the way, but in Tony’s mind, Morgan is his redemption. She’s what happens when he does things right. Carter helped contribute to this because he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he made with her, and he sought to correct as many as he could. His own father also contributed because Tony had a big example of the kind of father he never wanted to be, and he tried to avoid that at all costs. Stepping back from the Avengers and focusing on his marriage and being a father to his daughters was far better for his mental health, even with the guilt and sadness of everyone’s failure in Infinity War. So the years during which he raised Morgan were Tony’s most stable and healthy as far as his own mental state. If he was ever concerned about the legacy he would leave - and he was - he knew he was leaving something pure and positive behind after his death, whenever it might be, with Morgan.

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Ethan is actually pretty damn brave, considering he’s lived a number of years in fear. Before he entered into this nomadic lifestyle in an attempt to keep other people at a distance, he was protective of his friends and girlfriends. As he and his more recent girlfriend Kelly dealt with the creature infesting their house, there were many times when he was woken up in the middle of the night by her or suddenly startled by her screaming and had to get up and see what the problem was. He would always go on the offensive, investigating with something held as a weapon, letting Kelly hide behind him. He was scared, but he wasn’t about to let her get hurt. The problem was, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it in the end.

When Ethan is by himself, it’s a different story. He’s willing to be that shield or put himself in danger to protect someone he cares about, but if it’s just him alone, he’s not stupid. He’s not looking to throw his life away for nothing. So when he’s alone, he’s a lot more attention to his self-preservation instincts.

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Dancing. Specifically ballet dancing. Allow me to explain. You might think that she’d never want to touch pointe shoes again with how ballet was used against her in the Red Room. It was used as a conditioning tool, both for its strenuous and physical demands and difficult skillset necessary to master it, but also for other typical brainwashing techniques it provides, such as the use of repetition, association through music, and creating a sense of isolation through competition with others around you. However, something weird happened after Natasha defected to SHIELD. She started to dance for herself. She only did it when alone, sometimes with music but often times without any. Somehow, she took this thing that had been used against her and made it her own. It became a source of comfort, almost like the dancing itself had been a wounded friend, and somehow by only doing it privately and emotionally, she was helping it to be something more positive every bit as much as it was helping her heal.

While dancing, Natasha lets her mind wander. She allows herself to feel things she doesn’t express to others. At several points in her life when things hurt her emotionally, she took time out to dance. Such as when Wanda dredged up memories of the Red Room in her mind, when Bruce left her, and often during the years between Infinity War and Endgame. As far as hat her most treasured creation is... I suppose it isn’t something solid she can hold in her hands, but every time she dances, she feels like she’s created something good. And I would definitely say it’s treasured because it’s cathartic for her and helps her to feel whole and less anxious, and there's incredible value in that for her.

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

Since the word “recover” is being used, I’m assuming the strong emotions in question are negative ones? Anger, sadness, frustration, fear, those sorts of things? Typically, he needs to take a step back and be quiet and/or alone for a time to reset himself. Michael does have a temper, and he does feel emotions like sadness and grief very strongly, so sometimes he needs to step back and make sure that he doesn’t make any rash decisions based off of emotion. Quiet prayer usually helps, but if not that then just sitting quietly alone for a time, preferably out in nature somewhere, usually serves to reset his internal composure and steady his mind. Michael doesn’t like to act impulsively or in anger, so if he feels himself about to do that, he usually steps away. The one exception is when someone he cares about is in danger, then he might act on his protective instincts. Regret follows, but again, he finds prayer to be comforting to him in those types of moments.

[imasimpforstevengrant]

Why do we like this clown so much?

Change the "we" for "I" and you get an usual tag I use whenever I post my content in Tumblr. And it sounds funny at first but whenever you start diving into that phrase, the deeper it becomes. So, I finally have decided to share my thoughts about this strange but wholesome attraction to this deeply flawed character. It's not something I usually do since I don't know how to write down my feelings properly and also in english so please forgive any typos (I'm from Chile so don't be surprised lol).

So...Why do we like this clown so much?

Why was it that a character precisely designed to scare and to disgust the fuck out of us ended up unchaining a series of feelings that shouldn't have taken place in a beginning?

Let's take a look at the background: Joaquin Phoenix was cast as Arthur Fleck/Joker in 2018. The first image of him as the aforementioned character revealed a deeply disturbed man. We knew the plot. A man driven to insanity after a brutal history of abuse, creating concern in people if the upcoming film would inspire real life violence. Incel violence and mass shootings, more specifically.

(the image in question)

As 2019 arrives, the two trailers generated so much hype that media needed to fuel its concern about it. Since it wasn't your typical comic book film, media basically bombed our minds making us believe this film was going to be a total disaster, an excuse to cause harm to others among other nonsense, as if the film would justify everything Arthur would do in the film, eventually. As the release date is closer, the film receives thunderous applause and unanimous praise from critics. At this, fans rejoiced and expressed impatience to watch the film.

October 5th.

People left the theaters amazed, shocked and genuinely moved by the inhuman treatment Arthur received in the film. The fear media tried so desperately to infuse in us with all the incel bullshit and such turned out to awake one of the most positive, best feelings in humans:

E M P A T H Y

The word that so gloriously cleared away any dark thoughts or actions not only proves media was wrong but it turned out to ridicule it in way nobody will forget: Hundreds of people advocating for mental illness, calling out to the kindness that could change a person's bad day and questioning how politicians and rich people are indifferent to social problems proved how much as a society we have changed in comparison with the one shown in the film.

However, since we are on Tumblr, I'll get straight to the point and try to explain why the fuck does this clown has us dying out of love and compassion (and lust).

I. Background.

As nurturing as we women are for a biological matter, we see a man deprived of a good job, is on seven different medications, working like a slave to sustain his ill mother, putting aside his own health and well-being to look for her, struggling to make his dream of being a comedian despite everyone stepping on him, underpaid and treated like a freak for a disorder he did not ask to suffer, which makes it impossible to be indifferent to all the horrible ordeal that eventually will reach the limit of what he can tolerate without going insane. It is impossible to not say or think, at least, that someone (even if it's just one person) should stand for him just as it is impossible not to feel the need to throw ourselves at him to shield him from people who hurt him or simply offer him our shoulder whenever he has had a bad day, specially when he learns he was sexually assaulted by his step father.

This horrid behaviour terrifies newer generations because they get a taste of what being a social outcast was like more than thirty years ago in comparison with today, where there's more acceptance and treatment for mentally ill people like Arthur. We see in him someone who could have been saved with a proper education and emotional support instead of descending into madness as a criminal. Others simply saw themselves being treated like him at some point in their lives and couldn't help but put themselves in his shoes.

II. Personality.

TRUTH BE TOLD:

There's something called "attraction by proximity". It is the explanation to the eventual love you feel whenever someone doesn't catch your eye at first terms of physical attraction but his/her personality does attract you. This happens to be the base of this situation. His shyness, introverted nature, tenderness and innocent desire to make people laugh and put on a happy face awake some kind of tenderness we cannot resist. This combined with the gloomy background increases our understanding (but not justifying) of the bad decisions he'll eventually take during the course of the film. This traces a line of harsh, almost hurtful contrast of the violence he shows later on the film. Once again, it is not justified in any way but it is certainly understandable.

III. Appearance.

Arthur Fleck is unconventionally attractive.

This happens to be a plus for most women. He is out of the male beauty standards (no abs, not too muscly or particularly tall), which makes him even more unique. It is precisely the fact that he's not a model one of the reasons women love him. He could easily be your man next door or your colleague or the guy you always see but never dare to talk for fear to bother him Because it's about proximity. Arthur looks like your common neighbour. He's not meant to be your typical desirable male protagonist at all.

... And yet.

Jesus Christ, he's so fucking hot I can't even---

It's not about how beautiful his green eyes are, his long slender fingers, his hair or his smile only. It's the charm behind it.

Another "magnet point" is the way he dresses. I know he's impoverished and his wardrobe tend to be repetitive but it is so unpretentious, so simple that is hard to not fall for. The modesty of the shirts, ironed trousers reminds us of a mature man deeply withdrawn into himself, love starved and longing to be seen and loved by others, like a war veteran who still fights the most important war: with himself. Is someone who needs to be listened and understood.

AND OF COURSE WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ABOUT IT?

He's also brought back the old gentleman outfit, white shirts, red/yellow vest, red suit and elegant dancing moves and the retro style of the film boosts this attractiveness.

People keep comparing him with the previous interpretation of Joker (Leto's) whose costume appealed to young women with a tattooed, gangster, mumble rapper crazy-guy wannabe which didn't connect with the audiences (young people in general). This supposedly was to match or even have a sexy, tormented and desirable villain like Marvel's Loki. We all know how that story ended but it's the link for the next point below.

IV. Transformation

This is a particularly strong point considering how much we loved to watch the process of this weak, powerless, forgotten caterpillar into a beautiful and visible butterfly that will gracefully stir its wings for everyone to see its colours.

When Arthur transitions to the Joker, it's so cathartic to see taking revenge on those who wronged him (even when we're not supposed to root for him) like seeing his shyness fading away into a vivid confidence when dancing half naked in the bathroom, or witnessing him making way to make his name known to people in Murray Franklin's Show:

Adding to this newly gained confidence, there's another turn on: the way he walks.

At the beginning, his pace is hunched and limping, displaying his submission to violence, which makes the viewer more satisfied to see his broken yet beautiful soul turning the past pain of his existence into art: he lets music guide his moves as a way to tell the world he's a new man by cutting most of the sick, evil roots that harmed him, that he's invincible, that no one can stop him. Watching this cathartic display of euphoria was the most iconic scene in the film, following his speech at the TV and the inevitable meltdown that caused Murray's death.

Going to further appreciation, even his clown make up is beautiful. Why? Simple. The combination of colours, shapes and the intimidating glare just embellishes even more the character.

The dark blue triangles in his expressive eyes makes the light green colour to highlight, specially in dark backgrounds, giving the impression he's piercing your soul whenever he stares directly at the camera. Same can be said about the red smile and emerald green hair. They boost an already intimidating look.

The cold and warm colours paint a picture of a man full of intense emotions, mirroring it in a simple yet masterful artistic way.

Another interesting point is the way Joker dresses. Usually we had almost every single live adaption of this character in purple coat, hat, etc. But this particular version is not following any comic, which gives more freedom to creativity and once again, out of the standards of what we could have expected.

Red is a colour related to passion, action, love, strength, motivation and excitement. As for yellow, it indicates freshness, happiness and enlightenment and finally, green. Green is renewal, growth and regeneration. Colours that represent a new stage in his life, a mirthful chapter at last. We finally get to see our battered, always humiliated protagonist (or hero) descending into madness, but finally free from his repressed man who held his soul captive like a bird to fly away, to never come back. An insanity that despite being his downfall, turned out to be his ticket to freedom as he walks to the light in Arkham Asylum dancing at the end.

Ladies and gentlemen: behold the film nobody asked... But the film we fucking deserved.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

❤️💚💛

[sage-nebula]

Hello! I know that it is not actually a pokemon type so to speak but I'm staring down an essay deadline with less than half the word count. Would you mind talking about your favourite pokemon that is a dog or canine? Like the pokemons that are also dogs? Does that make sense? Sorry I'm very sleep deprived right now. Thank you so much for always being such a lovely presence on my dash and I hope you have a brilliant day!

Thank you for the compliments, and I would be glad to talk about some of my favorite PokéCanines! I’ll talk about all of my favorite canine pokémon, though please do note that I am leaving out the Ecruteak Trio because it is hotly debated whether they are canines or not and I do not feel like getting into that tonight. (For the record, I feel that Entei is definitely canine, Raikou is feline, and Suicune is too hard to tell, but still, I don’t want to get into it, so I will leave it at that.)

Growlithe / Arcanine — Probably my favorite of the canines for personal, sentimental reasons. When I imagined my previous dog in the Pokémon world, I imagined her as a Growlithe who would evolve into an Arcanine, because the PokéWorld doesn’t have a sheltie pokémon and I felt that the fluff and warmth of Growlithe fit her best, along with the ‘Dex descriptions of them being very loyal and willing to do anything to protect their trainer. My previous dog was exactly like that. But I also feel that Arcanine would be just such a wonderful pokémon to be companions with because they are gigantic, fire-breathing fluffy puppies, and riding them across the countryside would be AMAZING. (Not that I live in the countryside, but I do live in the midwest, so the plains are everywhere and not hard to find.) They’re just so good.

Smeargle — Okay, I will admit, Smeargle loses some points for being bipedal. HOWEVER. They gain those points back by virtue of how cool they are! While they’re not very useful in battle, sadly, due to low stats and the like, Smeargle are cool because each Smeargle has a different color paint (it’s not really paint, more a bodily fluid they use like paint, but close enough), and that as they grow up they let other Smeargle that they are close put their pawprints on their back. (So in other words, Smeargle A let’s Smeargle B use Smeargle B’s ink to put Smeargle B’s pawprints on Smeargle A’s back.) The ‘Dex always says “comrades,” but listen . . . we know what it means when two Smeargle have each other’s pawprints on their back. They are in love. 

Houndour / Houndoom — ACTUAL HELLHOUNDS, THEY ARE GREAT. True, the fact that their breath smells like sulfur is kind of gross, but their design and concept are so incredibly cool, and I also just absolutely love the mental image of a Houndour puppy having gigantic paws they have yet to grow into. It’s just the absolute cutest. I also like to imagine that my current dog would be a mixed-breed Houndour and Poochyena in the PokéWorld, so there’s that, too.

Flareon & Umbreon — Listen, some of the Eeveelutions look like felines, some of them look like canines, and others (such as Jolteon) make it really hard to tell. But I’m convinced that Flareon and Umbreon are both canines, and I love them both. FIRST of all, Flareon DOES NOT deserve the hate it gets. It is small and soft and so incredibly warm, it CAN be useful in battle, and most importantly, FLAREON WAS NOT THE FALSE PROPHET AND DID NOTHING WRONG, EVERYONE WHO HATED FLAREON DURING TPP SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES. If you don’t know what I’m talking about there, you don’t need to know about it, but just know that Flareon had a lot of libel posted about it and it was completely unacceptable. As for Umbreon, Umbreon is the Eeveelution I connect with the most given that I am naturally nocturnal, and I love how its rings grow stronger depending on what phase the moon is in. Shiny Umbreon is also choice. They’re definitely the best two Eeveelutions (though Espeon is also up there, sorry Espeon, although Espeon is also one of the feline ones and so shouldn’t be discussed here anyway).

Poochyena / Mightyena — As discussed in another ask, technically hyenas are not canines (or felines), but I’m still going to include them here because the localization team at the very least thought that Poochyena looked like a puppy (“pooch”), hence its name. I LOVE these two. Although my Mightyena ended up underperforming in AlphaSapphire, I’ve always loved the scruffy look contrasted with how loving and puppylike they can be. Also, again, I like to think of my current dog as a mixed breed Houndour/Poochyena, so there’s that, too.

Absol — Absol is another contested one, but I always thought Absol looked canine to me, so I’m going to count it. Absol is wonderful because it not only has a super cool design (though could also benefit from a dual typing, I feel), but also because this is another poor baby who has had so much unfortunate slander spread about it. Absol just wants to help! Absol wants to warn people! And people decide that instead of being grateful, they want to blame the messenger!! Absol does not deserve this at all, and the world likewise does not deserve Absol. That is a fact.

Lillipup / Herdier / Stoutland — Before anyone says anything, NO, these are not shelties. Lillipup is more like a yorkshire terrier, and while Herdier and Stoutland seem like they could be herding dogs of some kind (it’s even in Herdier’s name), I can assure you they do not resemble shelties. More like they resemble oversized yorkies. REGARDLESS, I loved them. Lillipup is adorable, so is Herdier, and while Stoutland is less cute and more gruff, it is also an absolute BEAST. BW confused me because I always took Cheren down easily, but Bianca regularly fucked up my shit with her Stoutland. (And yet they tried to make Stoutland Cheren’s ace in the sequels, smh . . .) My Stoutland was also very reliable. Very good doggos, 10/10

Rockruff / Lycanroc — WOLVES!!! FINALLY WOLVES!!! oh my GOD I waited SEVEN GENERATIONS for this!! To be fair, when I was a child I mistook MIghtyena for a wolf because of the coloring and the fact that it looked like a canine, but as I got older I learned the truth and was back to being disappointed. And while the fact that this line is pure rock (which has a million weaknesses) is disappointing, and while I’m also not fond of Midnight Form being bipedal, I can forgive it because we finally have wolves AND ALSO Rockruff is adorable and perfect AND ALSO because so is Midday Form. Plus, despite rock-type having so many weaknesses, my Midday Lycanroc is pretty strong, so. It works out.

Yamper / Boltund — Okay, I will level with you: a corgi evolving into a greyhound is kind of weird. Also, I do question why they used yorkshire terriers in Unova when they should have saved them for Galar, and instead maybe had like, American bull terriers (a.k.a. pitbulls) in Unova instead (although I guess some could argue that Snubbul / Granbull are pitbulls, but I disagree, I think they look more like English bulldogs than pitbulls). Regardless though, anyone who says that Yamper is anything other than adorable does not have eyes (the puppy has a heart on its butt), and also they are the GOODEST of puppers in how they bring your pokéballs back to you. And while it took me a bit to get used to Boltund, my Boltund, Poppy, is AMAZING and  love her very, very much. This line is great and I love them. ♥

Zacian & Zamazenta — FINALLY, SOME LEGENDARY WOLVES!! And not only are they legendary wolves, but one has a tuft of fur it can turn into a shield around its neck and the other CARRIES A SWORD IN ITS MOUTH, HOW BADASS IS THAT. I do get a little annoyed when people call them doggos when they are actually wolfos, but that doesn’t change how excited I was to have some legendary wolves at last, particularly ones dedicated to beating up hellspawn from space. I love them, they are beautiful, 10/10.

So those are my favorite canine pokémon!! If anyone disagrees with any of these pokémon being canines, I do not care and I do not want to fight about it, please do not send discourse my way. And as a final note, here are two lists of future canines / dog breeds I hope to see in future gens:

Dog Breeds: SHELTIES, miniature schnauzers, Italian greyhounds, German shepherds, Siberian huskies, dachshunds, shiba inu, some kind of spaniel, chihuahua (and it HAS to be fighting-type, it HAS to), and many others. You can never have too many doggos.

I also have to have one more final grievance at the fact that we didn’t get shelties in Galar either considering that sheltie is a nickname for shetland sheepdog, and this breed of dog ORIGINATED IN SCOTLAND, which at least part of Galar (particularly the Crown Tundra) was inspired by, ffs Game Freak why did you miss this opportunity. 

Wild Canines: Maned wolves, African wolf, African wild dog, dingos, coyotes, and just more wolves in general, honestly. I would say more foxes too, but we already have several fox lines, and while I wouldn’t say no to them, I want to see more wolves get attention first.

Anyway, thanks for asking!! I love Pokémon and I love canines, so this was a fun ask!

[reydjarinkenobi]

I am absolutely interested in more of the time travel fic!!! What you have so far is awesome!

Here you go!

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

Time travellers from the future were just about the last thing that Obi-Wan expected to find when he decided to investigate the ancient temple.

They had been taking a break from their journey to a remote Mid-Rim planet, where the senators would be meeting with a delegation from the neutral systems to attempt to negotiate possible alliances and trade routes. Personally, he thought that having an escort of two companies, two padawans and four Jedi was a bit of overkill, but he recognised that this would probably be a prime target for the Separatists if information about it got out, and it almost certainly would.

Plus, he was fairly sure Yoda was trying to either punish them all by forcing them to endure what was sure to be a long and tedious round of diplomatic talks, or force them all to take a break with what was, on paper, a fairly easy mission, as their only job was to make sure that all the senators were safe, rather than to actually oversee any of the negotiations. Really, it was the closest thing to a rest they could get since the Senate was getting exceedingly reluctant to allow the Jedi and their troops have leave; but this assignment had the added bonus of allowing all their battalions leave, with Alderaan having generously offered space on their planet for the battalions to rest whilst their generals were otherwise occupied.

They'd touched down on what was logged as an uninhabited planet so that the senators could stretched their legs and they could use the oceans to restock their water supplies, as the fancy model of ship used as the senator transport did not have a large enough reserve space to last the whole trip.

The ExplorCorps had noted in the planet's profile that there was an ancient temple, with some old carvings throughout it and, of course, Obi-Wan had wanted to take a look. Senator Amidala had readily agreed as well as Bail, though the other senators in the delegation had seemed disinterested in the prospect of examining old Jedi architecture at best, or scared at worst.

So, Mace and Luminara stayed with the great majority of senators and Obi-Wan and Anakin took themselves and a small delegation of clones to the ruins.

They'd eventually gotten to a room filled with carvings, that had a large stone in the middle of it. Having studied the particular ancient dialect printed in runes on the walls during his youth, Obi-Wan was immediately distracted. So distracted, that he only came back to himself when Anakin let out a sharp reprimand that had Fives pausing, his fingertips bare inches from the stone in the middle of the room.

A second later, there was a flash of light and now, Obi-Wan was staring at a group of time travellers from the future, at least two of which had access to the Force; future Jedi if their lightsabers were an accurate indicator, though both of them had shields much more fragile than Obi-Wan would expect from Jedi of their ages, even if they were still padawans - though he noticed that neither of them bore a braid of any kind.

Before any of them could comment, Obi-Wan's comm buzzed.

"Master Kenobi," Mace's voice floated through it, as level as ever to anyone who didn't know him well - but Obi-Wan did, would even consider Mace one of his closest friends at this point in the war, and he could hear the slight edge in his voice, "Can you think of any reason why a light freighter just appeared out of thin air?"

The Wookie garbled out a happy, "She's here!"

Just as he spoke, the human male who had appeared closest to the stone breathed a relieve sigh. "The Falcon came with us."

The woman's - girl, really, she was clearly younger than even Anakin was - eyes widened.

"That's the Millenium Falcon," she informed them, her accent a weird mixture of Core with hints of Outer Rim at the edges. "Tell them not to attempt to enter it. It's biolocked and booby-trapped. Anyone who attempts to get in will be repelled with extreme force."

Obi-Wan blinked.

"Did you hear that?" he asked into his wrist.

 "Yes… Who was that?"

Obi-Wan winced internally. This was going to be a headache.

"We will explain when we meet up with you. There is a lot to we need to discuss. Don't worry, though, they are not hostile," he looked between the group as he said the last part, meeting each of their eyes and seeing them nod slightly in agreement.

There was a pause, and Obi-Wan could hear the restrained sigh behind Mace's almost monotone, "Copy that, Master Kenobi. Master Unduli and I will be awaiting your explanation."

Obi-Wan held back a sigh as he looked up at the room around him. Bail, who had wisely ducked behind the wall when the lightsabers had been drawn, (in direct contrast to Senator Amidala, who had pulled out a blaster that had been concealed in her dress and levelled in time with the troopers who were meant to be protecting her) stepped into the doorway. Everyone else had lowered their weapons, though no one had sheathed them.

This was meant to be an easy mission.

"I suggest we all take our leave of this place," he suggested. "The temple will surely send some archivists and rune experts to investigate soon, but we do not want accidentally activate anything else in the meantime."

He nodded at the now cracked stone. "As you said, that artifact can no longer be activated now that it's runes have been destroyed. I'm afraid you may be stuck here for some time… perhaps indefinitely."

A maelstrom of fear terror worry sadness filled the Force around them before Obi-Wan physically felt shields slam into place around not only the two Jedi, but the entire group.

"Apologies," the male Jedi grimaced. "Shielding is… a new concept for us. Rey is better than me."

The girl - Rey, Obi-Wan guessed - rolled her eyes as she finally relaxed her stance, placing the butt of her staff on the ground and leaning against it. "I lost control just like you did, Finn. If anything, my slip was more of a disappointment since I've had more time to practice."

The man standing behind them shook his head and crossed his arms whilst the Wookie looked up at the city with a wordless groan. Both gestures went ignored by the Jedi.

"A whole six months more," Finn sniped back. "And weren't you just saying that I've gotten more direct teaching than you?"

Rey narrowed her eyes. "Two months is not nearly enough training to expect perfection."

Finn opened his mouth, but the other man stepped forward before he could reply, putting a hand on each of their shoulder's. "You both kriffed up. Deal with it. You're being rude… and aren't you meant to be the diplomatic ones? The general's lessons aren't going to waste are they?"

That immediately shut both of them up. Finn glanced down at the ground, whilst the indignation on Rey's face cleared to a blank mask.

She visibly checked herself as she returned her attention back to their group, nodding deeply.

"We're very sorry. We are not at our best… it has been a trying few weeks for us."

Obi-Wan's tongue stuck in his throat, still trying to make sense of that assault. The Force signatures, which had previously been dull - so subdued that they had barely been bright enough for Obi-Wan to label them as Force Sensitive. However, with the wave of emotion, there had also been another change in the Force around them, like a veil pulling away from their very beings.

Finn's signature had glowed bright; a beautiful shining light that had warmed the Force around it. Rey's, on the other hand, hit him like an ion canon, the pulsing supernova filling the room, so overwhelming that it rivalled Anakin's when he lost control.

"Wait," Anakin said. "Did you just say that you've been training for eight months?"

Obi-Wan's stomach twisted. If that was true, the two in front of them were very impressive; very impressive but very troubling.

Rey grimaced. "Yes… I know it is taking me a long time to gain control. I'm working on it… Meditation is beginning to help."

Finn grinned whilst the other man snorted. Rey pursed her lips but didn't comment.

The man between the Jedi stepped forward, smiling openly. "My name is Poe Dameron. The Wookie over there is called Chewbacca, the astromech is BB-8, and Rey and Finn just introduced themselves."

"And you're from the future," Ahsoka finished for him, and, when Obi-Wan glanced back at her, he saw that her eyes were wide.

Poe nodded. "Just over fifty years if I'm remembering my galactic history correctly."

Finn and Rey nodded in agreement.

"Right," Obi-Wan said, his mind whirling with the thoughts. "Why don't we return to our transport? We will need to contact the Jedi Council about this and we can decide what to do with you there… And I think we need to have a talk."

The three humans glanced at each other, before they nodded.

"That sounds good," Finn replied.

Everyone stayed tense as they started walking, with Obi-Wan hanging back, nearest to the group of time-travellers, who all stuck closely together.

He felt the Force shift around the group, tunnels opening up between them; mental channels that were clumsy but strong.

The mental conversation that took place was remarkably well shielded, but Obi-Wan still caught a few stray thoughts that were broadcasted with especial passion.

'We could stop it! Stop it all!' the thought floated from Poe.

'I agree - but we need to do this carefully,' Finn replied.

It was quiet for a few more minutes and then one of Rey's thoughts slipped out, 'We need to do this right. We obviously can't tell Skywalker anything. From what General Leia told me of her father, he wouldn't be able to handle it. He's too erratic.'

The few other stray thoughts that slipped out were patchy, and it was difficult to tell just who they came from.

 'Organa! Definitely. The general's dad was brilliant! Is brilliant I guess because we're not letting Alderaan…'

 'Amidala?'

 'Kenobi should be good too.'

By the time they got back to the ships, Obi-Wan's thoughts were swirling with the implications of their conversation.

Something very bad had happened in the future. Something awful enough that there was no one to train two fully realised Force Users. One of which was so powerful that Obi-Wan was having trouble figuring out how she'd survived so long by herself.

Mace was waiting for them when they got there, his eyes widening as he saw the new group with them.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice flat.

"We do," Obi-Wan agreed looking back at the group. "There must be things you want to tell us."

Rey swallowed. "Yes. We have proof of everything on our ship. History books and records and stuff like that."

Obi-Wan glanced around, noting the way that the group had tensed. He needed to find out what was going on. Now.

"Anakin, why don't you and Ahsoka help Master Unduli and Padawan Offee oversee the senators. Mace and I can interview our… visitors and contact the Council. Hopefully, we can get his all sorted out in a timely manner."

After a second, he also inclined his head towards Bail. "Senator Organa… I think it would also be prudent that you join us… in the interest of keeping communications between the Order and the Senate open."

Immediately, Finn, Poe and Chewbacca relaxed, though Rey narrowed her eyes.

Bail and Mace both nodded at Obi-Wan's plan, even as Anakin huffed at being left out.

"Right," he said, beginning to walk over to the freighter sitting on the beach. "Let's get this over with."

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

How are you liking this so far? What do you think will happen next? Tell me if you want more.

[efrmellifer]

Dulcis Somnia

Etien woke with a groan, pleased to be on her side this time, but pleased with little else.

She rolled to the other side, burrowing under the covers and more firmly under Aymeric’s arm again, tips of her ears brushing his throat and the underside of his chin.

“You don’t move this much at night,” he mumbled. “Is it morning already?”

“Not that you can tell by the light,” she replied. “The weather is shi—” she cleared her throat— “certainly unpleasant. I’ve never been so glad I don’t have to go anywhere.” She hunkered down even further.

He hummed. “But I still do.”

“I know, darling. I’m sorry. Do you want me to walk with you? You won’t have to brave it alone.”

“You were just saying how glad you were that you had nowhere to be.”

She tipped her head, trying to look at him, pinned though she was. “A walk to the Congregation is nothing. Or are you starting with the House of Lords today?”

The playful disgust was audible in his voice as he told her, “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

“House of Lords it is, then,” Etien giggled.

“You can stay here,” Aymeric said finally. “Here, where it’s warm and you won’t twist your ankle on the ice.”

“If you insist.” She shrugged slightly.

Finally opening his eyes to the bedroom, not even half-filled with the weak light of an overcast morning, he kissed her forehead, then her lips. “I do.”

“All right, then. Get dressed, I’ll make you something to eat before you go.”

Aymeric sat up, rubbing at his eye with the back of his hand. “You know, you have been more concerned with that lately. I used to have to convince you to have something, even on mornings off.”

No longer held down, Etien slid from the bed, folding over the covers. “I have the time—and cause, really—to be sure I eat, and I’m extending it to you. I should never have taken such poor care of myself out there.” She came around the bed, running the backs of her knuckles over his cheek. “And neither should you now.”

He sighed, though more out of determination to leave the warmth of the bed than in frustration with Etien. “Oh, fine. Nothing too heavy, please.”

“Oh, so no cream in your coffee?”

“Who am I, Estinien?”

Etien chuckled, stepping out of the room and padding down the hall in her new slippers.

“Do you have everything?” she asked as Aymeric rose from the table not much later.

“I believe so,” he murmured. “What is there for me to forget?”

With a pleasant smile, she shrugged, getting up herself to follow him to the door. “I just know I tended to forget things here now and then. My eye mask, a pair of gloves.”

Aymeric stopped walking. “Were those not on purpose?”

“The gloves were, the eye mask was not. Gods, trying to sleep in eternal light was… a trial all its own.”

“Had I known it had been a mistake, I would have flagged down that pixie to bring it back with them.”

“Feo would have called you sentimental and doting.”

With a squeeze of her hand, he replied, “A small price to pay, if you would have slept easier.”

“You’re going to be late, Lord Speaker.”

“I suppose so. I’ll see you later, Etien.”

Her lips quirked up just before she rolled onto her toes, grasping at Aymeric’s clothing to hold herself up and give him a kiss goodbye. “Not if I see you first.”

_

When Aymeric got home, it was to the image of Etien surrounded by knitting, a wide square of powder blue spread over her lap, yarn trailing from the carved bowl at her feet.

The rhythm of the needles clicking together and the motion of her hands as she worked through a stitch were strangely calming, even when he’d only watched them for a moment.

“Before you ask, it doesn’t tangle if I keep it down there,” she said without lifting her eyes from the needlework.

“What… is that?” Aymeric asked. “I know you’ve been working on something rather big—two of them, unless it changes colors every so often.”

“This is a receiving blanket. This one is almost done, and its twin will stay unfinished until this one is complete. Switching back and forth was driving me up the wall.”

Aymeric picked up the yarn bowl, pulling on the yarn to keep it from tangling while he fed it to Etien’s fingers. “Was there something different about it that was giving you trouble?”

“Not exactly. It was the starting over from the same point every time, I think. I would start with a half-done blanket, get it to three-quarters, and then swap to a half-finished one again.” She was quiet for a moment. “That, and struggling with the yarn. The bowl helps, but yarn is still finicky.”

He dug his fingers into the skein, pulling on the loose end some more before winding it through the indent in the bowl again.

“When you finish that row, would you still be amenable to taking a walk with me, like you offered to earlier?”

She smiled, needles clicking all the faster as she tried to finish up the last few stitches quickly, rising from the loveseat to put on her coat and boots.

When she returned to the drawing room, all dressed for the outdoors, Aymeric chuckled before pressing himself up to go put his outerwear back on.

_

The Central Highlands were quiet. The stillness was what they needed, both still in their thoughts as they walked.

Their hands, woven together, kept them tethered as they crunched through the snow, the only other sounds they were taking notice of the bleating of wandering karakul.

“I love karakul,” Etien murmured out of the blue.

“Well, you certainly love eating karakul,” Aymeric responded.

She turned to look at him. “Growing up in the Twelveswood, you learn to appreciate birdsong and roast fowl in equal measure, because the forest can give you both if you’re kind. Tenuous relationship with the Elementals notwithstanding. So I like watching the karakul trot around, and I like roast karakul when it’s on the menu.”

He laughed. “That is a good point. I think Ishgard as a whole forgets what it was like when we weren’t having to fight the land for what we need from it.”

“Camp Cloudtop was having quite a bit of success with the pumpkins,” Etien offered.

“Thanks to you, your knowledge, and your onion-gathering.”

She smiled. “I do what I can.”

Aymeric squeezed Etien’s hand. “And you have been able to do much for us.”

They continued on in silence, their loose grip on each other tightening, drawing them closer together as the sun sank lower in the sky. The tracks of their footprints converged at a point or two, conveying just how close they were walking now, voices low as the light above them began to fade, stars twinkling in the darkest spots.

The sun had gone, but light still clung to the horizon, a glow like dying embers even as the pinpoints of  constellations made themselves apparent.

Aymeric stopped, looking up. “Looking at the sky now, who would have thought it was so dim and dull earlier?”

Etien lifted her gaze to the sky, shielding her eyes, and nodded with a low hum. “But what an excuse to stay in bed it could have been. Skies like this make you come out and see them.”

“Seen a lot of these skies, have you?”

She was quiet for a long time, counting the stars, or maybe connecting them with her eyes. “Not these skies. Thanalan’s skies, Limsa’s skies they use to navigate the waters—same in the Ruby Sea and onward with the stars of the far east. I’ve been looking at the skies over The Black Shroud since I was old enough to tip my head back. And there were the skies of Norvrandt, striking because the deep blue was such a contrast to the light.” She sighed. “But I feel like I rarely get a good look at the skies over Coerthas. Maybe because we’re up at dawn or a little after, when the stars have already been put away for the day. But even if I’d seen this a thousand times, it’s always better with someone you love.”

Aymeric bent, kissing her briefly. “And better still reflected in your eyes.”

They kept walking. Even when snow started falling, they trod on.

“But speaking of the skies over Limsa,” Etien said finally.

“What of them?”

“I’ve been thinking, about my mother and… it’s silly.”

“Dearest, some of the thoughts you call silly are the most interesting things I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh. Thank you. I had been thinking, I’m the oldest of my parents’ children, so I had wondered what sort of mental state my mother was in, when she was having me. Her family was a bunch of seafarers, and she had even convinced my father—er, you know—to do a little traveling before they settled down in Alder Springs. Again, for him. So, did I put a stop to that? What might they have done if not for me?”

“A thought-provoking concept, but not something you could ever find an answer to, is it?”

“I suppose not.” Etien slowed to a stop. “I still think about it, though.”

“To the point of guilt?”

Etien sighed. Caught. “Not yet. I would hate to have been the thing that killed her dreams, though.”

“Why could you not be a new dream?” Aymeric asked, tipping his head to get a better look at her. “If you were, it would have happened more than once.”

Her eyebrows knit. “Oh?”

“Yes,” he replied simply, guiding her under a tree. “Because it happened to me, as well.”

Etien’s eyes just widened as she searched for words.

“For lack of a better way to explain, I wanted you to enjoy the new Ishgard you had helped create. I wanted to enjoy it with you,” he told her. “I had once been ready to die for the changes I wanted to enact, as well you know.” He absently rubbed at his wrist. “But I much prefer satisfying this new desire. It, like the stars, is better with someone I love.”

Etien leaned fully back against the tree they were sheltered under, gently tugging Aymeric to her. “Ishgard wouldn’t be home without you.”

“It would no longer be Ishgard without you,” he rebutted before closing the gap between them, lifting Etien from the snowy ground to negate the difference between her height and his.

Even with them so close now, he waited for her to make the next move. He could have simply claimed her lips, and in fact he rather wanted to. But how long had he waited for her, over and over? The space of a few breaths was nothing. If all she wanted to do was gaze down at him with love in her eyes, that would also suit him, in truth.

But she let her eyes slip closed, leaning in to press her lips to his, and utterly relaxing into his arms when he reciprocated.

For some time, the snow fell and they exchanged kisses, the longer liplocks broken up with tiny pecks across each other’s cheeks and planted on foreheads.

But as Aymeric was lowering Etien to put her feet on the ground again, he whispered, “You have naught to fear of killing dreams. I will do my best to ensure all yours come true, and as for mine, you’ve already fulfilled many of them. You still do.”

Arm in arm, they made their way home, living out dreams while still awake.

[ihatetaxes99]

THE YAKUZA AND THE PHOENIX - A BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA FANFICTION

"See, the problem with people like you," Commented the cool, sanitised yet utterly terrifying voice of Kai Chisaki as he kneeled down just in the very corner of the hero's peripheral vision. "Is that you relied far too much on that disgusting disease that plagues every last vein in your Godforsaken body. Maybe if you had just thought ahead a little… Has this illness robbed you of your senses, too? Left you as useless as a newborn? Not that it matters. It's far too late by now for any part of you to begin thinking about what could have been. I mean, just take a look around." He raised one hand to adjust his mask, while using the other to gesture to the scene around the two, one filled with flame and destruction. "If you had thought to bring police, tried to corner me with rifles, well you might have had some sort of success. I'm not stupid enough to resist against live bullets. But no. Your sickening Quirk has left you with such delusions that you thought you could stand to take me on alone."

The young woman's eyes filled with nothing but pure steel as she looked up at him. There was no fear to be found in the glare she delivered the man known as Overhaul, in spite of the terror bubbling in the pits of her stomach, constantly threatening to rise to the top. But she would not let it. Not in front of this Chisaki bastard, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had won.

"No words?" The man sighed, poking her lightly in the head as if to provoke a reaction. "Like a kid who doesn't get their way. Stubborn to the end. What a pain you are. The worst kinds of people are the ones who don't realize they're infected. They have no true redemption in their future. It's kind of weird when you think about it. What a shame… Not that it's any of my concern. I'm more interested in just why you and your ridiculous headgear have been following me around all day. Do you have an answer for that?" He grabbed her by the back of the hair, and pulled her face up to look at his. "I'd prefer an answer as soon as possible, so I can minimise the amount of contact made with your disgusting body."

There was only one way the woman knew she could respond to this and that way landed directly on the suspected Yakuza's forehead. "Why would I tell you anything, asshole? You won't get anything out of the Phoenix."

The man actually audibly growled, like a feral wolf, as he slammed her head into the asphalt. She felt her nose break as blood streamed from it onto the road. It was probably one of the lesser injuries she had incurred that day. Chisaki got to his feet and produced a spotless handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his face of the hero's saliva. "How childish." His voice was full of pure, deep contempt. "How filthy. Were you never taught manners? Are you mentally deficient? Hmph. Not that I should expect any more from a hero who calls themselves the Phoenix. How cliché." With that, he returned to his kneeling position over her limp body, she practically felt his shadow drop over her as the smell of burning embers filled her nose. Were those sirens she heard? They were faint, but what else could they be? Were they coming in her direction? One ear was completely busted up, so she couldn't tell. Looking up to the man who supposedly went by Overhaul, her peripheral vision severely limited by her complete and total lack of a right eye, she found her mind drifting away to the beginning of the day. When things had seemed oh so simple. When she still had all her limbs and when life had generally been more preferable when contrasted against her current predicament.

When had it all gone so wrong?

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

"So, all I have to do is follow the bugger?" Twenty-three year old Misa Kawajiri enquired into her phone as she took small, meticulous sips from her large Coke, sitting atop a rooftop in the very heart of the city, occasionally reaching into the bag next to her to dig out a fry or two and jam them into her mouth. This was the life, no doubt about it. The young woman, who went by the heroic moniker of the Phoenix, was elated whenever she was sent on surveillance patrols by her agency. Most other pro heroes would consider such work to be beneath them, it mostly consisted of hounding tax evaders, low-rent rank-and-file grunts and conmen, there was almost certainly never a tang of excitement to be found. This was the reason most heroes preferred more interesting work and it was the reason why Kawajiri adored such jobs. For her, it was a chance to slow down, chill out and enjoy life at a bit of a slower pace than usual. She definitely was not above having time to unwind and take things at a more reasonable pace. Of course, today's surveillance was already beginning to sound more interesting. It had started out with monitoring some basement-dwelling Otaku who shared anti-hero sentiments on internet forums, so not exactly a thrill ride there, as evidenced by the fact that Misa had left halfway through to get herself a McDonald's. But her new target, as assigned to her by her employers at the agency…

"His name's Kai Chisaki." Rang the cool, clerical voice of Phoenix's supervisor. "Mid to late twenties, germaphobe. He isn't often seen out and about, instead residing largely in the Shie Hassaikai's compound."

"Hassaiaki?" The hero of the sky's ears perked up at that. "He's Yakuza?"

"As far as we know, yes. We can't trace back any records of a family, except for Kazama Chisaki, his uncle, who was also associated with the organization before his death, although not as a full member."

"Interesting…" The girl pondered. "So, why are we following him, then? The Hassaikai have a good reputation, right?" Her words were slightly muffled as she jammed more fries in her mouth at that moment than was probably reasonable.

"That they do, Phoenix. They're underground. There have been search warrants on the premises before, but nothing suspicious was turned up. They're a Yakuza group in name only right now, nothing worth worrying about. But Chisaki? He's different. You're going to be following him for reasons unrelated to his activity within the clan."

"Oh?" Misa cupped her free ear with her hand so that she could better hear the man on the other end of the phone.

"In short, we have reasons to believe he's been peddling Trigger behind the backs of his bosses. Obviously, I don't need to tell you about that."

She nodded, although that was a tad redundant, considering the voice on the other end could not see her. The experimental drug known for its Quirk-bolstering properties was nothing to trifle with, and it had only grown more popular in recent time. "Why do you think he's doing so?"

"Money, probably. Who knows with these criminal types? The point remains that we have reason to believe he's out and about today. I've sent you an image of him on your phone. Follow him, see what he's up to. When a hermit like him comes out of the woodwork, it can never be good. Not for anybody." And with that, her superior hung up, leaving Misa to her own thoughts. In being left this way, she dug her knees up tucked under her chin and sulked for a bit, confident that nobody could see her act in such a childish manner, taking the odd glance at the image. He was a shockingly handsome young fellow, with sharp yellow eyes, ruffled brown hair and a suit, he looked the part of any well-meaning businessman. The only weird aspect was the steampunk-esque plague doctor mask clamped around his mouth. She shrugged it off as probably having something to do with his Quirk, whatever that was.

"This sucks." She groaned as she reached for her helmet, which mostly served as a fancy shell to hold the visor that shielded her eyes from the wind. "I don't wanna have to pursue Yakuza drug dealers, it's just no good. Give me a fat, tinfoil hat loser ranting about conspiracies any day. Surveillance is supposed to be a break from the hard stuff. But nooo, it just has to be more of it, doesn't it?" She sighed, the air whistling over her lips, as she tossed aside her empty bag. Stretching upwards, allowing her skintight suit to hug her body, she felt her wings extend from her body. It was always a glorious sensation to be felt, the pure rush of it all. She adored it beyond belief, the best part of the job. With a cheeky grin, the young hero spread her arms…

… And let herself fall from the building's roof.

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

Filthy. The very lot of them, surrounded by filth and dirt and all manner of unpleasantries. It was enough to break young Kai Chisaki out in hives, it truly was. Absolutely repulsive. How horrendous to have to walk amongst the common people, all of them no doubt inflicted with that despicable illness. As he made his way down the crowded high street, bumping into the occasional commuter, he felt the irresistible urge to lift up the sleeve of his green coat and scratch at the lumps on his arm. Urgh. The very lot of them, disgusting. He was rapidly remembering why he vastly preferred to remain indoors. And yet, he had to do this. He couldn't entrust mere goons with carrying out the mission, not even the Eight Precepts of Death. This had to be done by him and him alone. He felt the cold metal rub against his stomach from the inside pocket of his coat. What depraved things that guns were. Alas, they were a necessary evil, and still far better than Quirks. As he walked, he had no clue of the eyes following him as he did so. Misa Kawajiri worked fast and had found him in mere minutes. Was he aware of this, he would almost have applauded her.

Key word: Almost.

"He's carrying some sort of briefcase..." The girl noted to herself as she watched him. Luckily, his mask made him very distinctive for anyone who may be looking for him, so she had not had much trouble. "Is that relevant to whatever he's up to?" The questions were racing through her head in spite of her better judgement. She couldn't help but wonder about the good-looking, well-dressed young fellow with Yakuza ties. It was all so odd to her, and new. She didn't often run into anything so… exciting, was probably the word. And normally, Phoenix abhorred exciting. But something about it just seemed alluring. Maybe it was more the man than the danger, who really knew? Certainly not her.

…

DAMN.

Wrapped up in her own little thoughts, Kawajiri had lost Chisaki. He had seeped into the crowd. That wasn't good, not good at all. Not even wasting a second, Misa once again extended her wings and took off into the air, in search of the fellow she was shadowing. Stupid Misa, she cursed herself. How had she been so stupid? She really needed to focus more. Her eyes scanned the surroundings as she flew over an alleyway that served as a gap between two buildings.

And in that very alleyway, Kai Chisaki now stood, facing a triage. They were common street thugs, Overhaul had done his research. Nothing big, they were unheard of, just worthless druggies with not a thing to their names and a whole heap of desperation for power, power that they had no clue what to do with. In other words, the perfect suckers to lure in.

"Gentlemen." The distinguished Yakuza bowed. The goons showed no such respect in return. Was it really so hard to show the baseline politeness required of a person? These kinds of people pissed him off the most. Fortunately, the mask obstructed his grimace as he set the silver case on the ground and entered in a combination. A few seconds passed and then it clicked open. "Here's your bloody Trigger. Ten vials, enough to give the three of you a bolster in your path- In your Quirks for up to forty-eight hours. If you have any questions, I would advise you ask now."

The thugs all shared looks with one another. They appeared satisfied at the very least, yet the one in the middle, a big guy with muscles to rival All Might- Well, the former All Might- seemed incredulous to some degree. 

"So, what yer tellin' us, Chisaki-"

"I would prefer if you called me Overhaul."

"-Right. Sorry." His accent was just thick enough to get under the Yakuza's skin. "Yer sayin' that we don' hafta pay for any of this?"

To this, Kai shrugged. "Consider it a first-time buyer's guarantee. If you want more later down the line, that's when you'll have to start paying me. Otherwise, take it." He kicked the briefcase, sending it sliding towards the men. "It's all yours." For a moment, it seemed like the huge guy was about to protest, but at looking at the vials, his greed got the better of him, and he allowed a wide grin to overcome his face, no doubt imagining what his improved Quirk would be like. Disgusting animal.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya, Mr. Overhaul." He gloated as he picked up the case, his cronies hovering around him as they sneaked looks at the drug. Now was probably the best time to strike, while they were blinded by their own pathetic delusions of grandeur.

"Likewise." Chisaki responded, reaching into his coat, as if trying to find a cigarette. "Say, you three, have you ever wondered what society would be like without Quirks? How far we could have advanced by now if we hadn't had to restart everything to accommodate the idea of superpowers?" The men stared at him like he was mad, which was to be expected. "It's just something I've been thinking about." He admitted as he pulled the gun from his coat and aimed it squarely at the large man's head. "Let's test it out. You'll survive, of course."

"What the fuck?" The scumbag growled as he dropped the case in shock. "You pullin' a gun on us? Guess what, you skinny prick? It's three on one. Shoulda thought about that before pullin' a betrayal!"

"Probably." Kai noted nonchalantly as he took aim and fired.

The bullet ricocheted up against a wall in the alley as the metallic weapon was knocked from his hand by a kick. And not a kick from one of the steroided-up goons. No, one aimed from above.

"Looks like I caught you boys in the act." Phoenix grinned as she stood, legs firmly apart, eying up Kai. "Trying to betray the dudes you're selling drugs to really isn't a great idea, I must add." 

…

Filthy…

Sickening….

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??!!" Kai Chisaki screamed, his voice carrying high up into the sky as he stared down the hero, his pupils small and mad in their sockets. "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME??!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU??!!" He was completely enraged, sweat pouring from his forehead as he grasped at his hair. "DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING!!" He appeared to be on the receiving end of a full-on breakdown. All this over being kicked in the hand? No, it couldn't just be that. Already, the receivers of the Trigger had fled, stolen briefcase in hand. It really had been their lucky day.

"Woah, calm down, Chisaki-"

"Who gave you the right to call me that?!" He demanded, his voice slightly softer now. "And do you have any idea how difficult those bullets were to manufacture? I simply cannot afford to waste them!" Turning his back on Kawajiri, he picked up the gun, examining it for damages, and then wiped it clean with his white surgical gloves.

"Hey, creep! Stay right where you are!" Misa was petrified. She truly was. Something about this guy just was not right at all. She had been told he was a major germaphobe, but was it this bad? Enough to push him into insanity at a moment's touch? "You're under arrest for possession distribution of illegal narcotics." She was basically reading off the rulebook, saying what she was supposed to say in such situations. But nothing about this felt normal. Why was he so focused on the gun? "Stand down and await for police transport."

"You think I would heed such commands from a filthy piece of scum like yourself?" Suddenly, Kai was cool, clinical, yet again as he calmly pointed the gun in her direction. Phoenix nearly felt her heart stop. "Maybe you'll make a better test subject." His finger tightened on the trigger of the handgun. Misa had no time to think, no time to plan.

She simply ran forwards, charging the villain as he steadied his aim. Another loud bang echoed from the gun. She felt it tear her suit as it whizzed past her, but she managed to just barely evade it. Now, she was too full of adrenaline to stop, as she ploughed towards Chisaki. As she drew closer, she reached out, grabbing for his arm… She had to restrain him and fast.

"DON'T LAY YOUR FILTH-ENCRUSTED FINGERS ON ME FOR EVEN A SECOND!!" Overhaul yelled, back to unconcealed rage, as he slammed his hand down onto the ground. From nowhere, burst large columns of rock from beneath the concrete, sending the heroine flying back a few inches and separating the two. 

"Woah..." Was this his Quirk? She hadn't seen anything like it before. The rock wall stretched all the way up, totally shielding the Yakuza from her. It twisted up into the blue sky, as far as the eye could see. And then, she heard his voice, once again calm, from the other side.

"You made me use my Quirk." The man stated. "I hate this thing, but you left me with no other option. For that, I truly do feel some sort of hatred for you. So, I suppose I really feel no guilt in using you as my little guinea pig." Then, he fell silent again, as Phoenix paced around, trying to look for some sort of opening in the wall. Suddenly, she heard a rush of wind behind her and snapped around her head just fast enough to see Overhaul rushing at her. Now, Kawajiri had no clue just what his Quirk did yet, but she figured letting him touch her was a bad idea, so she took off into the air, hovering out of his reach.

"So, a flight Quirk, eh?" Chisaki sighed. His hair was ruffled, the purple fur on his coat torn in places and his bleach white tie flicking wildly with the motion from his rapid movements. "I must admit, I've never been great with moving targets." Once again, the pistol was out, pointed at her. No, she shouldn't panic. Judging from earlier, whatever bullets he loaded the thing with were very precious and so, he wouldn't waste them unless he knew there was a guaranteed chance of hitting her. She was safe for now.

She realized she had been foolish to think that even as the spiked column of rock dug itself up from the ground and impaled her right through the stomach, sending her back, right out of the alley and into the streets outside. She heard a scream as she slammed into a car, feeling the metal crunch behind her. Her vision was hazy, like that of a drunk, but she could still make out the suited villain walking slowly towards her as civilians fled the area. Well, all except for one man, who clearly realized that Kai was up to no good and tried to charge him. Without even looking in his direction, his gaze fixed on Misa, Overhaul's arm made contact with the brave man's chest and he exploded into nothingness.

"What the hell?!" Phoenix yelled. She felt like throwing up at the man's remains splattered the asphalt So this Quirk… It could erect pillars of rock, reduce humans to nothing, what was it exactly? She couldn't even think straight in her current state to try to decipher the answer.

"Isn't it kind of weird how people always try to act the hero? I've noticed that. I swear, this world has been poisoned beyond belief. Can I even cure it? Is that possible?" She felt cold metal as the bastard jammed the gun into her gaping mouth. "All I know is that I can try my very best. Starting here. You'll be my first patient, my girl. The first to be cured."

"Bite me." She hissed as she aimed a kick at his side, which somehow connected, winding the Yakuza just long enough for Misa to stagger to her feet. It felt like she had multiple broken ribs. Those could wait. "I think I get your shtick now. You think Quirks are disgusting or something, right? Yeah, just like any of those Creature Rejection Clan nutjobs. But you think you can bring an end to them, right?" She coughed up some blood onto her fist as she held Chisaki's gaze. "Well, think again, dickwad. You really think that you're some great saviour. I dunno what you have planned, but it sure as hell won't be anything that won't see you crushed like the pathetic little man you are!" And with that, she took flight again, aiming a kick at his head.

Before she even knew it, another column had travelled right through her left eye with a fleshy squealtch, blood coating the rock as she hurtled backwards, her fall stopped by a large vehicle that the rock pinned her to.

"Jesus… That it?" She spat, as Kai approached her yet again, his eyebrows raised in amusement. Then, he stepped backwards. Then again. Then, he spun around and started walking away. Misa was completely taken aback. "What?! You just leaving, you limp-dicked bastard? That ain't how a saviour acts, is it? Running away from a fight?" Her attempts at provocation did nothing to stop him and when the young woman tilted her head just a little, she saw why.

"Ah-" She started, before the oil tanker she had been pinned to exploded. The shockwave could be felt for blocks to come, glass shattered from the skyscrapers above as the world was thrown upside down. Everything went white for Misa Kawajiri, then black.

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

Damn. That really had escalated quickly. And now, the pro hero lay, amongst the rubble, with one eye, a busted ear, no legs and a stump of an arm. The Yakuza stood above her. 

"I'll be willing to overlook your blatant lack of manners." Overhaul growled as he resumed his kneeling position. "In fact, I'll let you be saved. I'll be the one to save you. Isn't that something? A sickening power-infected freak like you, given a second chance by a humble Yakuza. And after everything you've done to me. You have been one hell of an annoyance. But, I guess you'll have started to make it up to me if Eri's little bullets end up working." The girl felt metal press into her side. Why was he so eager to shoot her? It must have something to do with whatever he was planning. The last thing Misa Kawajiri heard was the crack of a gunshot, the last thing she felt was the pain of the bullet entering her body, and then, she fell still. A second or two passed before Kai hovered his hand over her head.

"All going well, you have been deprived of your filthy Quirk." He noted, more to himself as the hero was now deeply unconscious. "Now, just to fix you up." He pushed his hand down on her and the woman's body blew apart in a spectacular show of blood and gore. Just a few seconds later, it reassembled, all limbs, eyes and anything else re-attached. With a satisfied nod, the man got to his feet.

"You'll live peacefully for the rest of your days." He told her, turning his back on her and walking away from the destruction that lay sprawled out like the play area of a particularly deranged and angry child, as if it had just been another day at the office, adjusting his tie. "No Quirk, no heroics, no excitement. I hope you're cut out for a desk job, Phoenix. It's all you have in your future. You're welcome."