#it's not as easy as alter names because we can change those much more easily

[get-google-snake-menu-modlz]

get google snake menu mod. mod menu ODEQ%

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Open Chrome bookmark manager. Click on “MoreMenu. Open “More Menu Stuff”. Go to GitHub for Google Snake Mod Menu. Click Here · Now open the Bookmark Manager in Chrome browser. · Import Bookmark of Google Snake Menu Mode. Get Google Snake Menu Mod · Open Chrome bookmark manager · Import Google Snake Menu Mod bookmark · Click on “ · Start the Snake game. The basic game involves a player controlling a snake and making it grow larger with each piece of food it eats until the snake becomes so long that it can no longer fit on the screen, resulting in the death of the snake. The same idea has been used by Google to make their own interesting version of Google Snake mod menu. Furthermore, there is still so much room to change things up a notch. For example, completely separate background color, snake colour, two snake heads for real , dark mode, unlimited wall space, no loss, and thousands of things more. We can unlock all the Google Snake features by applying the Google Snake mode menu! If you remember playing the snake game on your old cell phone, you are likely familiar with the concept of this classic game as well as many modern variations that are available online and in app stores. The idea behind Snake was to make your way through a maze, collecting points and avoiding your tail until you completed the level. The first time you played, it was an addicting experience because of how difficult it was to keep from hitting yourself. Now, online versions of the snake game are available, complete with graphics and sound effects to enhance the experience even more. Google Snake is probably one of the most popular versions of the classic snake game that is in style these days, although there are certain limitations to Google Snake, hence the invention of the Google Snake mod menu. When we say Google Snake mod menu, we mean an extra bucket of features that Google Snake has but is only available to those who know how to unblock all those Google Snake hidden settings. Once we unblock all the secret settings of Google Snake, we will have access to the Google Snake Mod Menu, which is a sort of menu list that allows one to play the Google Snake game in a radically unique way. However, how do we actually do it? How to get the Google Snake mod menu to show? And to make it even simpler, we have produced this step-by-step guide for you. Keep in mind to follow it as it has been instructed:. There you are! This is how one can mod the Google Snake game. If you are just reading it and not following it along, it might seem much more complex than it really is. Frankly, we encourage you to really go ahead and try attempting it first, after which, we are sure you will be surprised just how easy it is. There are several types of mods available for Google Snake that are so much more fun than the classic Google Snake with restrictions. It is true that some methods are unique to different mods, although most of them are the same and follow the same instructions and modifications. We hope this clarifies some of your doubts. A game's potential to modify the colour is unquestionably a wonderful feature. This is made possible by the "Google Snake Animated Color feature", which gives you the option to alter the backdrop and the Google Snake colours. For a change, there is an array of colours one can choose from and play with a unique snake. Do you know how to obtain the animated colours for Google Snake? Click on this link and then stick to the directions on the other page. The Twin mod is most interesting because until now we have only been playing with one snake, whereas in this mod, as the name so accurately explains, it allows the snake to grow two heads! Therefore, the twin mod. For example, having two heads assists in eating fruits rather quickly, although when the twin heads crash into each other, you lose just as quickly. Does the twin mod sound interesting? Well, it can easily be played too. Open the first GitHub link and follow the provided instructions. Do you use dark elements on your computer, smartphone, and search engine? So it only makes sense to enable you to play your preferred game in a dark mode. Do you know how to get the dark mod on Google Snake? Click on this link and follow all the instructions supplied on this other page and have fun playing Google Snake in dark mode. Use the "Cheese Mod" to give the Google Snake game some extra pizzazz. There is a bunch of surprising content in this mod. Consider a snake, which is selectively functional in specific locations. Once you add this Google Snake Mod to the gameplay, the enjoyment is doubled. The procedure is the same for both the Dark Mod and the Cheese Mod. Simply go to the GitHub and search for the cheese mod new links are added frequently. Apply the given instructions and have a blast with cheez mod. As the name of this mod suggests, Google Snake any board size. This particular Google Snake mod allows one to either change the width or height of the walls to one's choice. The advantage being, one will be able to play the game for longer periods of time and not lose so easily. A solid cheatcode indeed. Liked google snake any board size? You can get it too. Don't you think it is rather fair when there are no wall limits? You will be able to play Google Snake games for long periods of time without losing, unless you touch your tail. One can easily modify the Google Snake Game to snake wall endgame sooner in easy steps! After that, click on the first GitHub link and follow all the instructions. These are some of the best Google Snake mods that one can play and unlock by following the same trick or a different one as per their instructions. However, do not think this list includes all the Google Snake mods because this is nowhere close to that. Remember, go to the Google search engine, type out the mod you want to install, and open the first GitHub link. Follow all the instructions there and you will have it. Google Snake may be one of the most basic games on the internet, but it can still be lots of fun to play—especially if you have the Google Snake mod menu! Having these Google Snake mods lets you have access to an array of options that are super useful. For example — imagine playing the Google Snake for hours on end; endless walls, two heads, unique colours and backgrounds, etc. All of this and far more is readily possible once you have access to the Google Snake mod menu, which we have attempted to explain in this guide. Have fun slithering away! Do you want to get a "Mod menu for the Google Snake? Do you perhaps not know "how to install the Google Snake mods? Well, installing the Google Snake mods can be accomplished via a series of steps. Read the article to learn the steps. There are several Google Snake mods that are the best. For example — there is the Twin Mod, Cheese Mod, any board size mod, animated colours mod, and a whole plethora of other Google Snake Mods that are just the best. To know more about them, read the article. First of all, one should know about the only legit place where one can download the Google Snake Menu Mod, which is GitHub. Next, you are going to need a working Java script that the GitHub users develop and we download in order to access the Google Snake mod menu. Remember, if the downloaded file is not working, that would mean Google has patched the Google Snake menu mod. Try downloading and trying out different Google Snake menu mod files. In order to hack the Google Snake game, we need the GitHub file, which then needs to be bookmarked in our browser. This way, it becomes possible to play the Google Snake game with menu mods. To know more, read the article. Unblocking the Google Snake menu mod can be a tough challenge for anyone who has never done it before. Fortunately, in this article we have provided an easily digestible how-to guide that can allow you to unlock the Google Snake Menu Mod. For more information, read the article. Well, it is as safe as it can be. So far, we have not received any complaints or negative reviews that might lean to the side of GitHub files not being safe. Furthermore, we can use extra tools to check the files downloaded from the github. So, is it safe to use the Google Snake game mod menu from GitHub? Absolutely yes. First of all, we need to acknowledge that there are multiple Google Snake mods available out there. And deciding which is the best would be unfair to others. In all honesty, it entirely depends on various people what they like and what they don't. So you do you. There are no extensions for the Google Snake mods. In fact, there are javascript files for the Google Snake mods. We can download those files from the github and start following the important steps in order to gain access to the Google Snake mods. Sign in. Forgot your password? Get help. Privacy Policy. Password recovery. Table of Contents. Add a header to begin generating the table of contents. What is the Google Snake mod menu? A new drop-down menu will be shown. The Google Snake mod has been installed now. Click on it. If the modifications have been successful, there will be more settings showing mod menu. Remember, in that case, follow the 7th and 8th again. Google Snake Animated Color: Google snake mod menu. Twin Mod: Google snake mod menu The Twin mod is most interesting because until now we have only been playing with one snake, whereas in this mod, as the name so accurately explains, it allows the snake to grow two heads! Dark Mod: Google snake mod menu Do you use dark elements on your computer, smartphone, and search engine? Cheese Mod: Google snake mod menu. Frequently asked questions. How do I get a mod menu for Google Snake? How do I install Google Snake mods? What are the best Google Snake mods? How do I use Google Snake secret mode? What is the best Google Snake mod? How to find the Google Snake Mods Extension? Most viewed All Featured All time popular More. Cookies How to get quillbot premium account for free — Quillbot cookies Rohit Kumar - 28 August Best Websites 50 Best free ebook download sites without registration Rohit Kumar - 10 August 0. Must Read. Popular Articles. Quick Links. About Contact Privacy Policy Disclaimer. Best Laptops 28 September Photoshop 10 August

[soulmate-game]

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 5: Overprotection

Disclaimer: Dick was adopted when he was 12 in this fic. Just for math’s sake.

—*—*—*—*—*

“What.”

Damian stared at his father, face carefully blank. Bruce grimaced, shifting.

“I said, you have a half sister. Biological.”

Four sets of eyes bored into him, from all of his sons. They were gathered not in the Batcave for once, but just one of the sitting rooms in the Manor.

“... and what, Father, does that have to do with the French class visiting Gotham?” Damian asked again, posture steadily growing stiffer and more and more stone like. He was trying hard to suppress emotions, but not even he was quite sure what those emotions were yet. Anger? Fear? Resentment? Probably. He might have detected some excitement there too, deep, deep down. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for this.

“Well. I’ve kept up with her life, but last time I checked she had no idea that she was adopted. When her birth mother died, it was right around the time I adopted Dick. She was still an infant, and I knew I was not equipped to handle taking care of a baby—“

“Father,” Damian interrupted again. “You sent her off. Have her up for adoption,” he said slowly, as if realizing that that would have been his fate had his father known about his existence earlier, as well. It was almost ironic, considering how Bruce seemed to have a problem with adopting other children nowadays. Bruce nodded.

“She was adopted by a couple in France. Paris, to be exact. I’ve kept up to date, asking them to just send me a letter or email once or twice a year about the general stuff she’s been up to. Nothing too invasive. A few pictures. And last time I asked them, they said that she had no idea about being adopted or that I was her father,” Bruce sighed again, running a hand over his face. “But I think she does.”

“Why?” Jason asked, confused as everyone else to the change in subject. Except Tim and Damian, who seemed to be quickly connecting the dots.

“Oh boy,” Tim breathed. Bruce just nodded.

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is the one who organized the trip for her class to come here, to Gotham. She is the one who entered and won our international internship competition, and turned that into an excuse to get her entire class to come here for two weeks. To get to know the place she will be living for her internship next year, after she graduates Lycee, France’s version of highschool essentially.”

Tim winced. He had been in charge of the internship competition, and Bruce had given him free reign. He had chosen the winner without even thinking to run it by his adoptive father.

“Bruce—“ Tim tried, but the man just held up a hand.

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been paying too much attention to her life, and I didn’t expect her to do something like this. But we know now that, if she does know and this isn’t a giant coincidence,”

“Unlikely,” Dick agreed, wincing. “Possible, but unlikely.”

Bruce huffed in agreement. “Then, we know she is very resourceful, determined, and has skills that impressed Tim enough to choose her out of tens of thousands of contest participants worldwide.”

“The minimum requirement for a Wayne,” Damian finally managed to bite out, still coping with this proverbial slap in the face but doing his best to handle it. He was seventeen damn it, and had come a long way from who he used to be. He could handle this. He could. He would.

Bruce rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward with his hands braced on the table. “Okay. So now we need to make plans.”

“Plans?” Jason asked, frowning. “For how you’re gonna tell her without getting your faces plastered over every tabloid in the city right?”

“No,” the older man shook his head. “Plans to keep her alive, unharmed, and unaffiliated with us until she leaves. I will not be making any public appearances unless absolutely necessary, so trips to the Tower are out of the question—“

“Are you…” Jason’s eyes were wide. “Trying to keep her out of our Shitshow? Because yeah, kudos to you even if it took you way too long to learn, but if she went through all this trouble to come here then it's probably too late.”

Dick nodded. “If she’s anything like you and Damian, there’s no way she’ll back off easy. Avoiding her will only make it worse on you, and probably the rest of us too.”

Damian stared straight into his father's eyes, glare sharp and searching. “What is this about, Father? You have not worried this much about any of us—“

“Because none of you were as naive!” He barked, quickly catching himself and taking a breath. “You all had a way you could benefit from this life. A way I could help you. But Marinette has both of the parents she has known her whole life, they treat her wonderfully. They care. She’s never had to worry about constantly moving, or fighting, or going hungry. The only deaths she has ever experienced have been from afar and due to natural causes. She designs as a hobby and has no problem with socializing or handling emotions in a healthy way— introducing her to our life holds no benefit for her. The only thing it can give her is unnecessary danger and risk and secrets.”

“Yeah, well. I guess Batman doesn’t know everything, does he?” A new voice startled them all from the doorway, making everyone's head whip over to see who had managed the near-impossible and snuck up on all of them.

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, was a short part-Asian woman in her late teens. Her midnight black hair was cascading down her back in one thick braid, tied off at the end with an indigo ribbon. Her eyes were a piercing cobalt blue, matching those of Bruce perfectly. Her jaw was clenched, and the infamous Bat-glare coming from her was directed right at the person who made the expression infamous in the first place.

“Marinette,” Bruce breathed, shoulders squaring. “Your plane isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

“It won’t,” she agreed. “I took a portal here. You see, my extensive research into Batman’s known habits and tactics, which I started after I figured out about your alter ego last year, informed me that you tend to go to the extremes to protect people you deem incapable of protecting themselves, and are also prone to idiotic self-sacrificing behavior in the form of purposely making yourself look like an ass.”

Jason chuckled. “She’s got you down to a T, B,” he quipped with a grin despite the caution still in his eyes. “But let’s back up a bit, little Spitfire. What’s this about a portal?”

Marinette pushed off the doorframe, walking closer to the scattered group. Tim and Jason were spread across one sofa, Damian on the other with Dick, and Bruce was occupying an armchair. Marinette just walked until she stood where she could easily be seen by everyone, but also had nobody at her back.

“The portal is part of a bigger story. Like, the fact that father dearest wanted to protect me so badly that he placed the JLE in Paris, but didn’t realize that relations with that branch were so bad that the JLE never informed him or the JLA about getting kicked out of France and reassigning themselves to Italy. Bruce never kept a close enough eye on the city, because he wanted to keep emotional distance, and therefore was completely blind to when a supervillain showed up and terrorized Paris for almost five years,” she continued, her glare never leaving Bruce’s face.

“I found out about being adopted when I was eight. I found out who my biological father was when I was thirteen. Last year, I finally put in the work to connect Bruce Wayne to Batman. And yeah, I never told Maman and Papan, because they have never completely understood me. They wouldn’t have understood that I was fine with having no contact with you, back then. That my snooping had nothing to do with being unhappy with them as my parents. They would have immediately assumed they were inadequate when I am merely curious by nature. But then I ended up being chosen to be one of the child heroes that fought said domestic terrorist that showed up five years ago. And I sure as hell couldn't tell them that a magical artifact showed up on my desk one day and that the god inhabiting it told me to fight the monsters the villain made and just, just go with it. I couldn’t tell them when I went from being one of two Parisian heroes to being the leader of a team. I couldn’t tell them when my elderly mentor, unable to fight by our side but who had at least provided emotional support and knowledge, passed away and gave me his title and responsibilities. I’m sick and tired of being protected, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette didn’t seem to notice the tears that had begun to fall.

“I’m sick of it. I know you were trying to keep me safe, but I fought a war I wasn’t prepared for. I died, thousands of times. But my own powers and the powers I have my partners brought me back to life. Over and over. I don’t need protection, damn it. I don’t need you to distance yourself, because you're the only fucking person I can call a parent who might understand,” she held out a hand, her scowl turning into a gentle smile. “I have so much I need to talk about. Before I drown under all these secrets. Please. I’ll go back through another portal before my parents notice I’m gone, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow when my plane lands. Just. Please, don’t push me away. That’s all I ask. I want to get to know you, all of you. I… I need family who understands.”

“Thousands.” Bruce repeated, all of them still recovering from Marinette’s very sudden, info-dumping speech. “You died… thousands of times?”

Marinette laughed, but it was a sad sound. No mirth there. “I gave my friend a magical artifact that reverses time, and the artifact that gives me my own powers can reverse any damage from a fight I use it in. Even death. Sending untrained teenagers to fight a villain three times their age makes some kind of failsafe like that kind of necessary.”

“Fuck,” Jason cursed under his breath. “Well. You’re welcome to join the living Zombie club,” he offered. The girl snorted, giving him a watery grin in thanks.

“I’m sure you know about my stance on powers and metas,” Bruce decided to say, wincing immediately after. That wasn’t what he meant to say. At all. He earned another brief glare for it.

“I’m not a meta, and I only have powers when I use the artifact to transform, thereby borrowing powers from the miniature god that the artifact houses. Think of it like doctor fate, but my gods are actually not parasites and my powers are much more… specialized. I had to learn combat on my own, and I was able to train in my sleep with the past users of this artifact. That includes people like Fa Mulan, Joan of Arc, and someone you actually know— Hippolyta. I’ve mastered more fighting styles by now than I care to remember, and I’ve done gymnastics since I was three. I don’t know if my parents told you that in their letters. I even won the gold in the nationwide France gymnastics competition two years ago. I assure you, I don’t rely on my powers nearly as much as you might think.”

Bruce swallowed. “I can… greet you when your class arrives.”

Marinette grinned. “Well, that’s a start.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Idk what happened, I don’t know if I like this at all but oh well. I’m posting it anyway. Maybe one of you will like it. I… couldn’t really find any other way to do this so oh well. Also, I think Mulan was a past Dragon..? But I put her as a Ladybug because I Can.

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy @meme991001

[catharrington]

Catboy headcanon: When Billy is horny, he rubs at the base of Steve’s tail because he knows it’s a sure fire way to get Steve riled up, too.

Sometimes, when Steve comes home late at night from his job at the public library, he’s not in the mood. Doesn’t want to get in the mood. He just wants to lay out in a patch of artificial sunlight and laze around. Dreading the fact that he needs to get up to take a shower and even change into pajamas.

Maybe, he thinks, he’ll put on Billy’s baggy winter pajamas that he completely swims in. No better way to get warm from the cold of February outside. And no better way to hide his cold toes from the drafty windows of their apartment.

“You home, pretty cat?” Billy calls to him from the kitchen. Before he walks into the doorway, a glass of whiskey hanging loose in his fingers, wearing nothing but black cotton briefs and a grin. One hip cocked dangerously to the side, as if he knew he was something to look at.

Steve lifts his head so his chin is balanced on the couch. His ears flicking side to side as he registers the heat coming off Billy. The clinking of the ice cubes in his glass as he walks forward.

Billy walks towards him and it sends Steve up on his knees. Not in a way he wanted to, he doesn’t want to put forth the effort of getting up, let alone getting off— yet, he can’t help it. Billy smells of cheep liquor and sweat. Of the meat he cooked for dinner earlier. He makes Steve’s mouth water.

His tail hits against the back of the couch loudly, hit, hit, as Billy stalks towards him. A smile on his face that’s matched by Steve’s own.

“I’m tired,” Steve warns. Trying to laze forward on his elbows, even when his butt persistently sways in the air. “Work was hell. Don’t really need you asking me to do more work—,”

“Me?” Billy feigns ignorance. His drink clinking again as he gets close enough to set it on the coffee table. As he gets close enough for Steve to feel how hot his body runs. As he gets close enough to show off how tented his cock is inside his shorts.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Billy scoffs at even the idea. He lumbers between the couch and the coffee table. Sitting down on the floor with a heavy thud of his heavy body. He casually leans back against the table, easily, like he does this every day, and uses one hand to push back his wild hair.

“Just,” he says with half lidded eyes and a wet swipe of his tongue. “Just tell me how your day was. And I’ll massage you until you feel better? Okay, babe?”

And Steve can’t help it. Even with the plethora of pet names he still gets liquified inside at a new one. He lets a purr roll out from the back of his throat long and deep. Let’s his body roll over to the side so he can face Billy directly.

Inside their apartment is quiet, the street has the noises of cars driving by and the chatter of people. It’s late, not too late however. The steeet lights are still on. Casting Billy’s pretty skin, his messy hair and his grown out beard, in a honey yellow glow. Just like the liquor glass sweating out onto the table. He looked good enough to drink.

“Just,” Steve mocked his tone of voice, “just a massage? And then bed?” He lifted one bushy eyebrow. His ears pointing to attention on top of his head.

Billy nodded along, eager like a puppy. His fingers twitching on the edge of the sofa.

Steve sighed out, playing up how exasperated he was, as he rolled over onto his stomach. Pointing his toes until they went over the side of the arm rest. And folding his arms so they held up his head like a proper massage pillow.

“All right,” he whispered out.

And like a gust of hot summer air from a left open window Billy’s hands covered the small of his back. Those thick fingers and wide, circular palms caressing the bottom hem of his sweater with relentless gentleness. Even with the whiskey on his breath, Billy moved his hands in tight controlled circles that absolutely pushed the air up and out of Steve’s chest.

He couldn’t help it, not one bit, as his tail moved to curl around Billy’s shoulders. As it seeked out that warmth with the possessive nature Steve always tried so hard to keep in check. The fur jerked against his dirty skin, catching long strands in the clumps of his sweat. He must not have showered after coming home from shift of working outside. It meant he really needed a shower now, it was fantastic.

“Tell me about your day at work, pretty cat,” Billy whispered. It sounded like his mouth was right next to the fur of his ear, but Steve was floating on a cloud. And with the way his own throat was making the deep vibration of a content purr, Billy sounded miles away.

“Aahh,” Steve moaned out, trying to remember how words tasted on his tongue. When all he could think about was the taste of whiskey.

“We got a ton of deliveries, some new hard-back biographies today,” he managed to get out on shaky breaths. “I-I had to unload and check them all in. Stamp... them all in.” He dragged out the last sentence with a roll of his hips. To match the roll of Billy’s fingers.

They pushed up the hem of his sweater until those devilish fingers were touching skin. Erasing the February chill from his walk home, but leaving goosebumps as they went.

“The old bats at the counter left the whole shipment for me! I think—,” he cut off with a groan, “I think they like watching me struggle with carrying the boxes.”

Billy laughed low at that. So low, so deep inside his naked chest, that Steve felt it vibrate up his spine. “I don’t blame them. That sounds adorable.” He whispers, much too close again.

“Perv-pervert,” Steve grumbles out. Tilting his head forward into his folded arms.

His next words catch and stay in his throat as Billy’s fingers dip from their rhythm on his lower back, they dip to touch the base of his tail where it juts out from the hole in his jeans.

It’s a wider hole, wider than most, and most of the time Steve has to alter or cut his hole to fit his larger tail. Billy doesn’t even pinch any of the fluffy fur as he pushes in two fingertips.

“Woah!” Steve gasps out. His arms unfolding as he bolts upright, while his tail flicks to the side to hit the couch with a loud whack.

And all Billy does is give another low chuckle. One hand, the hand not lost in his mess of tail hair, rubs a gentle circle on his back. “That’s no good?” He asks, “I’ll stop if you say so?”

But Steve’s purrs were filling up the whole damn apartment. His cheeks were flushed a cherry red color, growing over his cheek bones and connecting at the tip of his pointy nose. He could feel his face was on fire. Could feel a bit of shame as he gave over to just how good Billy’s fingers were.

He let himself fall back to the couch with a huff. Nuzzling his blushing face back into his folded arms, and hiding his blush in the sleeves of his sweater.

“Feels good,” he mutters out.

Billy leaned forward, a lopsided smirk, “what was that, I didn’t catch it?”

Steve turned where he knew Billy’s face would be, bent over to try and see his shame. He kept his eyes closed as he hissed, “heard me!”

Billy groaned out himself. His body rolling as he leaned forward. Leaned more into Steve’s lax and warm frame. His fingers disappearing to the knuckle as he felt out the most sensitive part of him. Right where the bone of his tail was thickest. Right where the fur came up into his back— every bit as ticklish as pleasurable.

“Come on, kitty,” Billy sighed. He leaned forward so his face pressed into the hair between Steve’s ears. Rolled the tip of his stocky nose in the mess of it, inhaled the scent of Steve in a way that made his stomach flip. Butterflies fly around. Pink stars flutter at the side of his vision.

“I want you to feel good, want you to want it,” Billy kept talking. His voice hot on the back of Steve’s neck. “You deserve to get off after that fuckin’ day.”

Steve reached down between them, fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. Billy’s laugh kept going in his hair as he shifted so his jeans went below the swell of his ass. His tail slipping through the hole of his jeans much more easily than Steve was struggling.

“There’s my feisty cat,” Billy didn’t waste any time in getting his hands back in Steve’s tail fur. Burying them into the long chocolate and black fur until his palms where flat on Steve’s skin. Then he pulled then back. Using his short fingernails to scratch at a maddeningly slow pace.

“You must have looked so damn cute. Workin’ up a sweat in front of everyone. How cute, how tempting...,” his breath hot onto the back of Steve’s neck as he speaks. Making his leather collar moist. “Good thing you wear this collar so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Steve’s hands groped uselessly at the couch under him. His hips bucking backwards to get more of those hands on him.

“Such a good kitty, huh, such a good boy for me.” Billy’s mouth turned. His lips pressuring dangerously into the base of Steve’s ear. It flicked violently back and forth, knocking into Billy’s nose and lips, but he didn’t move back. “Right here, huh? Does this feel good? Right at the base of your pretty little tail?”

Steve whimpered, nodding in agreement.

Billy’s fingers were moving faster and faster, some staying at the very base to tease and dig into all the most sensitive nerves of his skin. His other hand was petting through the rest of his fur. His tail, ever the traitor, was curled in a tight vice around Billy’s arm making it all too easy for him.

“Want me to keep petting you, keep touching you, think you can get off just from this?”

Steve’s hips bucked up off the couch. His knees knocking together as he tried to lift them so his skin was touching as much and as hard against Billy’s as he could.

But Billy was using his weight to keep Steve down on the couch. Was using both his arms and his chest to pin Steve so he was laying just as he choose to lay for the massage. And that, well that was almost as hot as the dirty talk.

“Billy, Billy,” Steve chanted his name in rolling waves of his purring. His mouth hanging open so his tongue lulls out the side. A pool of drool gathering just below his chin. It matches the way his cock trapped below the softness of his belly and the rough texture of the couch is dripping it’s own pool of pre-cum.

He’s torn between rutting down to get the friction and make himself cum, or bucking up more to get Billy’s fingers scratching into his skin deeper and deeper. So he does both in studdering jerky movements that make his whole body ache.

“Shhh,” Billy’s mouth has gotten closer. His lips right at the base of his ear. It makes the sensitive pink skin inside twitch and jerk away. Flick in annoyance at the hot air.

But then Billy’s closing his lips around Steve’s ear. Closing his teeth around it just enough to feel them. And rolling his tongue against the fur in time with how his fingers flex deeply into his tail.

He can barely hear the way Billy whispers, “cum for me, kitten,” as he cums. His neck stretching out in a choked off moan. Toes curling. Tail flicking at the end into Billy’s bicep muscle. His eyes widening before fluttering closed.

He’s giving small little ruts down into the couch until his cock stops milking ribbons on it.

Tomorrow, there will be a mess to clean up. That, and the whiskey Billy left sit on the table.

But now, Steve’s only thinking of going to sleep.

He’s lost in a steady rhythm of post-orgasm purring as he feels his soft body shift before lifting. Billy groaning only slightly as he hefts Steve up to a bridal carry.

He takes Steve into the bedroom. Their shared bedroom. Laying him down across the sheets like something precious, like something he doesn’t want to break. Or misshandle. Like he ever could when every way he’s ever touched Steve has been with a gentle hand and love in his eyes.

First he feels his hair being pushed off his sweaty forehead. Then he feels his jeans being taken the rest of the way off and a cloth cleaning off his skin. A fresh new pair of sleeping pants that match Billy’s own slipping over his long, pale legs.

Billy shuts the lights off. Shuts the door. The noise of the city outside still makes it bright, can’t get away from that.

But Billy comes into bed and curls up behind Steve. Wrapping one arm around his waist, those work rough fingers possessive against the slight pudge Steve’s stomach has. Pushes his knees behind Steve’s so he’s flush with as much of him as he could possibly be.

“This okay, Stevie?” he whispers.

And Steve’s heart flutters. His stomach grows warm. He’s got those butterflies again. He opens his mouth but not a lot comes out. His words constantly cluttering, failing him.

He takes Billy’s hand from the pillow above his head and brings it down to his lips. Presses those scarred and big and scary hands to his lips. Says much more than he knows he can with his limited, stuttery words.

Behind him, Billy chuckles. Pulls Steve by his stomach even closer together.

[katsulia]

So ... you like me ?

Featuring : Bakugou, Todoroki

Genre : fluff, no warning 

a/n : requests are open 

Bakugou Katsuki

It was obvious to everyone that you and Bakugu had feelings for each other, even Aizawa sensei was able to feel the tension during the sparring matches: except for the two of you. It had been quite some time since you became aware that you saw Bakugu as more than just a friend and that you had confessed to Mina. She wasn't even that surprised and had also noticed how much attention you were paying to him and was then excited that two of her two best friends were getting closer. But it wasn't as easy as it seemed, it took months for Bakugou to realize that you were special to him and again it had required Kirishima's help. Kirishima was pained to see his best friend do nothing and suffer in silence. Yet nothing had changed since then and they all had to watch you waiting for the other to make the first move.

Indeed it was impossible for you to imagine that Bakugou could return your feelings, even if everyone around you was pointing towards the soft eyes that he had in reserve for you. It is true that he seemed more calm around you and that he was always willing to help you in any subject while he always complained when it came to Kirishima, Denki and Sero. Similarly, it was unimaginable for Bakugou that you could love him. All your little attentions and the way you always cared for him were your way of being and he was convinced that you were like that with everyone. That's why the Bakusquad had decided to take things into their own hands.

Bakugou had just come back from the gym and was eager to get back to bed, it was without counting on Denki who was waiting for him in the common room. And as usual he seemed full of energy and not ready to let him off easily.

"Bakugou, guess what?" His excited voice didn't augur well especially for Bakugou. "I don't have time for your bullshit." He growled at the same time and tried to take another step before stopping dead in his tracks. "Even if it's about Y/N? I heard that some other boy was courting her and since I know that you like her too... It would be a shame if someone else took your place, right? First everywhere is what you want?" It's not true, nobody would dare to approach you knowing that Bakugou had already set his eyes on you, but it was the only way to stimulate him to wake up. "Shut up, you imbecile! I don't care who it is, I'll do it first!" It was as if smoke was coming out of Bakugou's body that was boiling inside and he seemed more and more annoyed, especially at the sight of Denki who couldn't stop laughing. He had already noticed you coming down the stairs and he was sure you had heard everything. "Well, good luck!" He glanced at him before he disappeared without giving him time to understand, and that's when you appeared.

When Bakugou noticed you, his face crumbled as he realized what had just happened before he regained control of his expression. There was a heavy silence in the room that he didn't seem to want to defy for once. You were standing in front of him with your eyes glued to the floor and fidgeting with your fingers, which showed your embarrassment. Yet surprisingly it was you who came to break the silence.

"So ... you like me?" Your voice was soft and it sounded more like a whisper when you weren't sure how to interpret what you'd just heard. "Yes, so what, you idiot?" Bakugou was more than embarrassed and couldn't help but be defensive and raised his voice. If you had to reject him so you had better do it as quickly as possible.

"Uh... I like you too ?" As soon as those words came out of your mouth you felt your cheeks burning. Bakugou's gaze stayed on you and you could only feel ridiculously small in front of those red eyes staring at you. Without warning, he embraced you and brought you as close as possible to his chest and whispered softly in your hair "Dumbass".

Todoroki Shoto 

Everyone could agree that Todoroki Shoto was irresistibly attractive and you were certainly not the one who was going to disagree. But beyond his physical beauty, there was an incredible and unintentionally funny person. That's how you undeniably succumbed to his charm. However, it was out of the question to do anything about it because Todoroki was still a relative beginner in social interactions and even if Midoriya had helped him a lot, it was not possible to share your feelings with him. You were sure that he would be lost and not ready to receive such confessions even if he already had secret admirers. That didn't mean that your feelings remained in the shadows and your whole group of friends had already noticed that you were far from insensitive to Todoroki.

As for him, he knew that you were different from the others. It wasn't something bad, only he had realized that you were the person he was always looking for when entering a room, the one he liked to see the progress of your alter not just for the purpose of observing a future opponent. He had shared all of this with Midoriya who, as best as he could, even though he was flushed, had explained to him that it was a matter of romantic feelings. He had heard it before, it was the topic of many novels and films, but unfortunately he hadn't had the opportunity to witness it at home. Surely his parents did not share amorous feelings. So what do you do when you love a person? Write her a letter? No, he knew it was better to do that in person. Offer her a bouquet of flowers? A lot of people seemed to do that in the movies but a flower didn't represent his love. A box of chocolate? All right, but after eating it, nothing would change. That's why he was determined to confess his feelings to you directly.

It was Saturday night and he had been practicing his lines for the whole week. He wanted to get to the point while being considerate, apparently in this kind of situation you shouldn't be too blunt. That's how he walked to your room, not paying attention to the curious looks he received on the girls' floor. It should be mentioned that he still chose to take a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate, better more than less. He was about to knock on your door when he heard other voices behind.

"You can't stay in this situation forever. You know Todoroki is a big boy and I'm sure he has the ability to understand what a love confession is." That was Ochako's voice, and it was pretty funny to hear HER say that you know regarding her situation with Midoriya. "But I can't just barge in and say hey Todoroki I like you." You sighed at the same time knowing you'd never have the courage to do that. "Not like that either, but think about it, you'll end up regretting it. I'll leave you alone. I have to go see Iida, but think it over." And with those words full of affection and concern she stood up and walked to your door. But what was her surprise when she found herself face to face with a Todoroki holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other.                   "Todoroki! What are you doing here?" She exclaimed, and when you heard this name you raised your head towards the door in panic.  You could only pray that he didn't hear anything.                                                                                         "I was coming to see Y/N... but maybe I'm intruding?" He hesitated as he didn't want to interrupt anything, but before he could even take a step back Ochako pushed him into your room.                                                                              "No, you aren't!" And so she slipped away, slamming the door behind her, leaving you both embarrassed.

"So... you like me ?" As usual, Todoroki was straightforward and didn't let you regain your senses. If you could hide in a foxhole right now you would have, but unfortunately this was reality and you had to face his intense gaze.                "Uh yes. I know it's not mutual, but I hope we can still be friends?" Your voice lacked confidence and showed your nervousness even though the fact that you were shifting on your feet was already a sign of your current state.                “Actually I like you too so I thought we could be more than friends." He spoke without stuttering while continuing to stare at you. The term friend had surprised him because that's not what you're supposed to be when you're in love. You raised your head and met his heterochromatic eyes and you could only let appear the shock on your face. Todoroki Shoto was standing there, in front of you, with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates and had just confessed his true feelings. Even in your wildest dreams you hadn't imagined this, it was beyond your expectations. You shyly smiled at him while your heart was beating so fast.

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. v

→ one | two | three | four

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part five / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 3,127

☾v.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾v. part v: the mafia(2/2)

Sayomi made her way to the elevators once again, dispatching the control room through her walkie talkie that she needed to get to her shift.

It was currently a quarter to 1, the last minutes before her shift would start. With a hand resting on her katana, Sayomi now exited the elevator having arrived at the 48th floor.

As she approached the VIP’s room, the two bodyguards on duty sighed in relief. 

“Thank god, it’s finally rotation time”, the woman exhaled lazily.

Sayomi tried her luck at a friendly interaction, casually asking the pair a question. “I’m guessing there wasn’t any action?”

The man laughed a genuine, but tired laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We haven’t moved an inch since the start of our shift.”

Sayomi laughed at the pair’s lack of enthusiasm, her violet eyes crinkling at the edges. Her expression of joy seemed infectious, as the older members in front of her laughed along with her in their despair.

She was starting to feel like a true member of the team already.

This is nice, I didn’t expect the others to be as unmotivated as me. 

Closing in on the time designated for the shift change, Sayomi’s partner arrived as well. Seeing no purpose in waiting around when everyone was present, the pairs switched early, starting Sayomi on her very first stretch as a bodyguard.

☾v.

The first 30 minutes into her shift, Sayomi had learned that her partner was a rather quiet person by nature.

Upon starting their shift, the two had exchanged a brief greeting, nodding to acknowledge the other.

It was only after an hour of standing and staring at the wall that Sayomi decided she couldn’t stand the silence while they waited out their shift.

She initiated a conversation with the older man, coming out bold as to establish her character.

“So, how did such an average man like you get stuck working for the mafia?”

The man was unmoving, replying to her question in a soft voice. “My family’s debt… Why did a young girl like you get caught up with the mafia?”

She wasn’t expecting such an honest response from the man. It threw her off, making her unprepared to answer the question shot her way.

“Um… I guess you could say family circumstances?” She hadn’t lied, given that it was her family’s actions that left her at Meteor City.

The man nodded in understanding at her vague answer. 

Another wave of awkward silence fell over the two, Sayomi’s initial attempt at socializing having failed miserably. 

She decided not to reattempt a conversation with the man, sensing that he didn’t care for idle chatter.

Family circumstances, huh. That’s the best thing I could think of. 

Sayomi had fallen deep in thought, her brows furrowing as she reflected back on her life.

I wonder if… father ever came looking for me? Or Illumi… did Illumi want me gone too? Ah, I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. Either way I won’t return home, because that would mean mother winning. 

She exhaled audibly, tired from the splurge of thoughts that had taken over her mind once again. 

The man glanced over at the teen stationed next to him. She was obviously just as bored as he was to be stuck with this job.

Moving his eyes back forward to the wall in front of him, he attempted to kickstart a conversation once again. “You seem a bit too young to be on your own, don’t you miss your family?”

Sayomi blinked at the man in surprise, both at the question and the fact that he had initiated a conversation.

She contemplated whether she should tell the truth or cover it up with a lie. Deciding that a lie would take more effort, she settled for the truth. “I’ve been in the assassin business for 6 years now, so I wouldn’t say too young… I do miss my little brother though. Do you miss your family?”

As the man appeared to be deep in thought, Sayomi mulled over her words. My little brother… Killua, are they treating you alright?

“My apologies for assuming. And, yes, I do indeed miss my family. But, why haven’t you escaped yet, then? With no leverage against you, you could easily run away at any time.” The man spoke while looking at her this time. 

She thought about his question. “I guess… well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s my first time in Yorknew City, and I wouldn’t want to go back home to the people that left me in the first place.”

He let out a hmm at her response, obviously putting the pieces of her situation together. “If I told you of a way you could live here in Yorknew without being trapped under the mafia… would you oblige?” 

His eyes were soft and earnest. He knew what it was like to remain helpless at the hands of the Mafia, and saw no reason she should as well, especially at such a young age.

Sayomi’s expression formed one of shock and surprise, obviously taken aback by the man’s sincerity to help.

“I suppose I would… but if you know of a way out, why haven’t you left yet?” The two were now holding eye contact as if to read the other’s intentions. 

“I’m afraid I’ve already received too much from the Mafia. I owe my life as well as my family’s safety to them.” He responded somberly.

Sayomi nodded silently, understanding the man’s situation. She decided to at least take a listen to the plan he had to offer. “So, you know of a way I can live in Yorknew without the Mafia breathing over my shoulder?”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and the man could sense it as something between the recklessness of a teenager and the confidence of a powerful assassin. She has no fears. I wonder how much she’s experienced to be this strong at such a young age.

“Ah, yes. Sticking with the Mafia will never do you any good. There’s a way of living here in Yorknew City if you’re especially confident in your fighting abilities. It’s called Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi raised her eyebrows at the man’s words, curious. Heaven’s Arena? Sounds like some shoddy place where people bet on fights.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention. So, what does one do at Heaven’s Arena?” Sayomi asked.

The man cracked a ghost of a smile at her interest. “You fight. From what I’ve heard, it’s set up in multiple floors, and each time you win they let you advance to higher floors. I’m pretty sure the pay goes up with each floor as well.”

Sayomi was impressed. A place where they pay you to fight? Count me in.

“I wonder what the catch is though… if it’s as easy as you say, wouldn’t everyone be taking their chances at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man hummed in agreement with her words. “You’re right. The most I’ve heard is that once you reach a certain point, the matches become a fight to the death, and through any means possible. I’m guessing that’s where most people falter- it’s either life or death matches that’ll provide you with a stable income, or small fights once in a while that pay very little. Only the strongest find what they’re looking for at Heaven’s Arena.”

Gambling with your life in order to pay the bills… 

“And you think I could make it at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man looked down at Sayomi with a fatherly gaze. “I don’t think you’re the type of person to need someone else’s approval. But to answer your question, yes, I think with the right amount of training you could find a new life with Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi smiled at his judgement of her character. “Well, then that does it. I just need to find my way out of the Mafia’s grasp, and then I can get to training.”

☾v.

Sayomi’s shift was over before she knew it. Just as the pair before them had said, their VIP client had no one after him. 

Her partner had told her all he knew about Heaven’s Arena and the Mafia from his many years working in Yorknew City. 

She had learned that there were members of the Mafia hidden within the assassin recruits, keeping anyone from sneaking away. Her escape would have to be well planned out to avoid getting caught along with any consequences.

Tagging out with the next pair of bodyguards, Sayomi head back to her room once again.

2 days later

VIP Adachi Yuto’s stay came to an end, with it marking the end of Sayomi’s first job. The team was dissolved as a result, and Sayomi was dispatched by her section leader to meet with him down at the lobby.

The section leader turned out to be the man who had first brought her to Yorknew City, a familiar face that relaxed Sayomi’s nerves a great amount.

Upon meeting, he was immediately down to business, letting Sayomi know of her next assignment. 

It was an assassin’s job.

She had originally planned to find a way out of the Mafia’s scope soon, but with the mention of her finally getting some action, the plan was postponed. 

Her target was a man in his 30s. No other information was given to her besides a photo and his location. 

Not much to her surprise, an ankle monitor was situated around her right leg, keeping her from straying from the job.

Damn you, bloodlust. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to ditch the cold blood and murder mother and father drilled into my head.

Sayomi was falling victim to her old habits. She knew it was wrong to stick around any longer, but the consequences of the offer to satisfy her thirst for blood didn’t sink in until the cool metal of her ankle monitor pressed into her skin.

The man seemed to read Sayomi’s thoughts as she realized her mistake. “The ankle monitor is programmed to shock the user upon our command. It’s enough power to deal sufficient damage to even the largest of animals, so I insist you remain focused on the missions we give you. We never enjoy having to resort to using it, but keep in mind that we will not hesitate to, given a reason.”

She looked down at her ankle in defeat. It seemed Heaven’s Arena would have to wait.

☾v.

Later that night

Sayomi paced anxiously about in her hotel room. It was a mix of long-overdue bloodlust and hatred towards herself as a result of her assassin’s instinct to kill.

Deep inside her head, a war of conflicting feelings raged on.

Calm down, Sayomi. Every time you do this it’s only proving that mother succeeded in sculpting you into her little assassin. 

She had completely thrown away a perfect chance to escape just because she couldn’t control her impulses to kill in cold blood. 

But is it that wrong to want to kill? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I’ll be exactly like mother. I can control my own future now, I am my own person.

Setting her katana down against the wall, she opted for her needles instead. It had been a while since she’d used the smaller weapons because they reminded her of the past.

Now putting the past behind her, Sayomi walked with a new air of confidence. It was her greatest skill and job to kill, she’d decided. And this was a decision she had come to on her own, a new mindset for a new beginning.

A static-ridden dispatch over her walkie talkie marked the beginning of her assignment, and Sayomi headed down to the lobby. 

Since she was still underage, a driver was provided to her, stationed in front of the hotel with her designated license plate.

The brisk night air greeted Sayomi as she exited the hotel. It was currently a few minutes past 12, the streets being mostly empty except for the young city goers enjoying the nightlife in Yorknew City.

Exhaling out an envious sigh at the stunning city lights surrounding her, Sayomi watched her breath disappear into the night as she walked briskly to the car.

The drive to her target’s location was silent. Sayomi sat alone in the back seat, watching with empty eyes as friends, lovers, and complete strangers came together in harmony within the lively city.  

She started to wonder what it would be like to live a normal life like them. What would she be doing right now? Staying up and texting friends? Going to bed before midnight? 

As the teen sat in the back of a luxurious car going towards her next target to assassinate, she couldn’t help but wish she had a normal life, with friends who cared about her feelings or guy problems instead of waiting for orders on which guy she would kill next.

These are useless thoughts. There’s no turning back now.

The car came to a stop at an intimidatingly tall company building, around the same height as the hotel.

Stretching her limbs as she exited the car, the driver notified Sayomi he would wait for her return in the same spot. 

Thanking the driver for his services, she took quick steps towards the entrance of the building. With her persistently developed speed and underground techniques, sneaking in and out of the building would be no problem.

Taking notice of the lack of security, she rolled her eyes as she let out a breath in annoyance. This is amateur work. 

Activating her zetsu, Sayomi’s menacing purple aura dissipated into thin air as she dashed past the sorry line of security, making her way to a deserted hallway.

There was a lone guard doing rounds with a bright flashlight in hand, failing to notice the slight breeze that Sayomi had left in her path.

Positioning a needle between her fingers, Sayomi flicked her wrist out at lightning speed, sending the needle flying towards the guard. 

It hit home in the guard’s neck, knocking him out instantly. Taking nimble steps towards the fallen guard, Sayomi made quick work of grabbing his access badge before heading to the elevators. 

Seeing as no one else was around, she tabbed an elevator, rocking back and her toes as she waited.

Just as she had expected, the elevator required an access badge, which she tapped against the scanner while pressing on the button for the 38th floor.

In a bored attempt to keep herself preoccupied on the way up, Sayomi spread her band of needles out in her hands. Closing her eyes, she ran a pale hand over the band. 

Her hand came down on a single needle, the needle she would use to finish off her target. Putting the band back into her pocket, she held the single needle between her knuckles, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The elevators chime signified Sayomi’s arrival at the 38th floor. The floor was empty, being past working hours and in between shifts for the security guards.

A single desk lamp shone in her target's office, and Sayomi strolled casually to the partially open door.

She could see from where she approached that her target was busy at work, having stayed overtime. 

Knocking twice on the inside of the open door, Sayomi just barely caught the attention of the man before moving her wrist in a single, fluid motion.

The man had no chance to react, slumping face down onto his desk with a muffled thump.

She had hit the jugular clean and precise, leaving no trail behind of her job besides the now motionless man.

Satisfied with her work, Sayomi returned to the elevators with a skip in her step. A few months without my needles and I’ve still got it!

Greeting her driver with a smile this time around, she didn’t blame him for being utterly confused. 

The job had taken her just under 5 minutes, the majority of the time belonging to the elevator rides up and down from the 38th floor.

Dispatching her section leader of the completed job, Sayomi returned back to the hotel, looking as if she had gone out for an evening stroll.

Her section leader greeted her in the lobby, letting her know she had the remainder of the night off. She frowned slightly at the news, her adrenaline still rushing from the short job. 

An easy target like today always left her wanting more, unsatisfied with the lack of fighting that came with it.

I’m getting all caught up in this again.

Shaking away her thoughts of possibly finding more action, Sayomi returned to her room with slumped shoulders. She forced herself to set her needles back down on her nightstand, finding it hard to keep herself from fiddling with them.

It was late. And though the 51st floor around her seemed to be deep in sleep, Sayomi was restless. 

She decided to wash up and take a quick shower to relax her nerves, changing out of the uniform and into one of the other outfits they had provided her with.

Wrapping her silvery-white hair in a towel, she opted to sit on the floor, gazing out of the floor length window in front of her.

Yorknew City was quieting down, the street vendors having cleaned up for the night, stores being long closed, and clubs starting to die down. The last of the neon signs flickered in the darkness, looking like tiny specks of color from where Sayomi sat, high above most of the buildings bordering the one she was in.

The 16 year old girl sat cross-legged in a trance, no longer focused on the city in front of her, but something within her mind.

What am I gonna do now… I ruined my chances of escaping anytime soon. All because I couldn’t control myself, my old habits. Does this mean mother was successful with her plans?

No. I don’t have to give in to defeat. I’ll find a way out, just like how I got out of Meteor City. Maybe if I gain their trust they’ll take this ankle monitor off. 

I just have to become one of their obedient assassins, quiet and reliable. 

Sayomi fell asleep slouched on the rough carpeted floor that night, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.

But despite the uncomfortable position, her face proved differently. She was only ever at peace when she was fast asleep, because that’s when she could see her loved ones within dreams.

Illumi, Killua… Are you two taking good care of each other? Are you doing better than I am? 

Do you guys even miss me? 

I miss you two so much I feel like I could die. 

☾v.

to be continued.

a/n: taglist open!

[cathyparrlyn]

The truth behind the politics-notmything drama

TLDR: Charley’s explanation has been proven to be false through clear evidence, her contracting statements with what was found from original authors, and too many coincidental or suspicious points.

There are too many screenshots to all fit in this one post, so we ended up putting only a few on here. For the full post, here is a link to the google doc, you can also read this instead:

As many of you may already know, I have recently made a callout post against Charley (@politics-notmything) for being a plagiarist. She, however, has made an explanation of her side of the story. After lots of careful investigating, I can honestly confirm that Charley is in fact a plagiarist and lied about certain points of the situation.

To start off, I waited to make this post until I was basically 100% sure on whether her explanation was the truth or not. There was much evidence against her. However, a friend of mine decided to check the IP addresses of each of the tumblr blogs she had mentioned (I did not ask them to by the way, they just sent them to me thinking it would help.) They sent me them and it showed that Charley's main account politics-notmything had the same IP address as both the fake wolf1ez account that she claimed to trick her and the fake Nikole account she blamed. I will not, however, be posting her IP address as proof as I personally consider posting that publicly without her consent as doxxing, and I do not wish to harm Charley like that. I never even considered looking at her IP address as I am not comfortable with that nor technologically competent to even remember IP addresses are a thing you can look at. However, I can’t ignore that what my friend showed me is very blatant proof that confirms that Charley has been lying, so I shall mention it, but I refuse to send it to anyone and I have told them to do the same. Please respect that decision.

Some of you may just take my word for it on that. However, for those of you who don’t, here is all the other evidence stacking up against Charley’s story.

First things first, let’s say I didn’t know Charley’s explanation was false. Her explanation was that she plagiarized a friend instead who had plagiarized fics. Charley, in the end, had deceived people and accepted praise from those who were misled to believe that writing was true. Because of that and if her story was true, then she gave a platform to terf (later knowing they were one and continuing to post their work) and her followers had unintentionally supported a terf and plagiarist because of her deception. Now, she may have received credit, but she could've easily said at any point that the fics weren’t actually written by her but by someone else who was anonymous. AO3 even has some features to properly credit others.

The definition of plagiarism is the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own. With this in mind, Charley had plagiarized no matter what, and the fact that she never once told anyone about this co owner and has held conversations with me about how she came up with, wrote, and edited She Used to Be Mine, a plagiarized fic, all by herself is very suspicious.

The proof Charley has been sending is also on invalid sites where you can easily create your own evidence. Everyone already knows and understands the unreliability of google docs with handling fake emails and stuff I presume. As for Snapchat, you can very well change the date. It’s the exact same thing as time traveling in animal crossing, and it’s actually decently known among people. Here is a link to an example of someone altering time on snap chat, followed by the results.

(Results are on the google doc.)

Now some might wonder why would she go through all the trouble of doing that? Well, to create evidence to clear herself. The fact that it was posted quite a bit later, and that she had told people prior to this that she deleted all the messages and proof of information that could blatantly defend herself is very sketchy. Not to mention, the account she @ed as “Nikole” was fake and confirmed to be nonexistent by a friend of mine.

Moreover, the tumblr account that she claimed was Nikoles was recently changed between the two days. When Charley first mentioned the account, me and my friends all investigated it and found a post saying she had another account. However, since then it was altered to say the account Charley @ed and the account had a new bio saying her snap chat is the one Charley @ed. But the account was nonexistent the day before?

Is this simply just a coincidence? Well, let’s see what else is a coincidence.

Charley has recently been writing smut and this blamed blog is an NSFW blog. Coincidence? Maybe. But she also claimed to have cut the person out of her life last year. The blog however is more recently made in late 2020. Why would Charley still be in contact with her accounts? Is this another coincidence? Also, if they did cut things off, why continue to still post her work? And why would two of the fics be things that were made this year if she ended their friendship in 2019? How would she have gotten that from “Nikole” if they were cut off? We even asked the original author of one of the fics about the situation and they confirmed that they gave no permission for someone to copy their fic.

Are these all coincidences too? Not to mention, Charley didn’t say just one person she never mentioned before had tricked her into plagiarism, but two. Charley claimed to be good friends with the author of the original Luck be a Lady and have received permission from them, however, they never spoke to Charley before nor gave permission to anyone to use their fic.

When it was found that the original author of the fic that Luck Be a Lady plagiarized was not friends with Charley nor gave her permission like she had said they did, Charley claimed another account that was fake had tricked her.

Again? How likely is that to even happen once, let alone twice? Or for someone with no post on an account that could have easily been made had even interacted with Charley? Or that the texting style in the evidence she posted is similar to her own and could be edited? And also the conversation itself is way too sketchy and convenient?

(Check google doc or Charley’s post for the conversation.)

Charley also just happened to request help with the title in a group chat l was in with her, but she requested help 3 weeks after the conversation she claims to have happened above.

( @all-my-love-cathy by the way was the one who named it, her name was censored because its her personal account with her name real)

Maybe it's just me, but 3 weeks seems like a bit of a long time to wait to name a fic that already had a storyline and pre-written chapters.

Moreover, the fake Wolf1ez also just so coincidentally happened to recently have copied the Twitter pfp of the account that Charley had seen but not their actual tumblr account? And that this blog that doesn’t make posts decided to tell Charley to use a fic they didn’t write?

How did they even find her blog? And why wouldn’t Charley at least double check the situation here since the person is very suspicious in the conversation they had, had no posts and she doesn’t know them? This is the "close friend" they claimed to have co authored with?

Also, Charley claimed to have commented on the AO3 fic and then deleted it. However, the original author never got an email for this. Whether it’s anonymous or not, they would have seen that a comment was deleted, yet they didn’t have one and all the other comments were fine.

The author even had a note written at latest in January 2020 telling their readers to talk to them on Twitter instead of Tumblr.

Their A/N^

(more screenshots are on the google docs)

Why would she discuss it with them on tumblr then if the author didn’t like tumblr, and Charley does in fact have a Twitter, so why not talk to them there? That’s pretty sketchy.

Also speaking of coincidences, how about the fact that the most recent fic she updated that was confirmed to be plagiarized happened to be the very last fic on the supposed list she claimed to have been given by “Nikole”? Or how she later contradicts herself by saying she won’t upload anymore of her fics? What left did she have to upload if they were all used?

Furthermore, the fic just so happened to also be a Rent fic. Wow, right after Hope Mill Theater released Rent with Millie and Maiya both starring in roles, something Charley had seen and recently expressed great interest in. What a coincidence that it was the one she posted that day. Or how about the other fics that were all copied also being her interests? So many coincidences.

Now I hope it is understood that all of these together just don’t add up. Those are way too many “coincidences” for her explanation to be true. The original authors contacted had never spoken to Charley or given her permission to use their fics, and the accounts she used made no sense with how they were presented. Her explanation feels somewhat of an excuse, and the fact that there is definite proof that she has lied in her explanation and is connected to the accounts is unsettling. Blaming a makeup blog is already messed up, but calling them a terf?

I’m sorry if this post is upsetting to anyone? I know a lot of people have been openly angry or devastated at the news of what has been done. Plagiarism is not okay, neither is deception. To see such a big blog that you might have once admired lie to you and steal from others isn’t easy, especially since she has such a big following that others are dreaming to have. Not to mention, this definitely looks bad for fic writers, especially shippers as she was one of the major faces of Parrlyn. I think it’s important to recognize that we can’t encourage or simply overlook issues like these, nor is it fair to many fans. Please make sure to recognize this issue and become aware about it.

What Charley has done isn’t right, however, that doesn’t deny the fact that she is a human being just like every single one of us. She is very young and did something dumb, but she does not deserve to be sent any hate so please refrain from doing that if you so desired to. I know my blog is known for having issues with her in the past, but I genuinely mean it when I say I hope she learns from this and I don’t want her to be attacked. Nobody deserves to be sent hate, and as a fandom we should strive to be bigger and better people each day and only share positivity and kindness with each other.

Please, once again, give the original fic writers credit if you liked fics that were plagiarized. If you could spare a second to give them a kudos/like and possibly comment something simple like “I love this”, I’m sure it would mean a bunch to them. Hearing your fics were stolen is not easy, speaking from experience here as someone who was also plagiarized this year. They could use a bit of love, so please do consider it if you are comfortable with that.

Once again, I spent the past two days since I read Charley's explanation investigating the situation with a group of people. I just wanted to share the truth, maybe it’s the inner journalist in me. This is what I found with them and what I stand by. Believe what you want, I can’t force ideas onto anyone and I know some are bound to disagree with this, but it’s what I found.

For anyone upset over the incident and needs a place to rant or vent, my dms are open and so is my inbox. If you follow me on insta or are a friend on discord I would recommend those as I am a bit more active there. I’ll try to be on as much as I can the next few days in case anyone needs someone to talk to.

[be11atrixthestrange]

A Bedtime Story

Also, my first Hinny fic! 

I’ve hesitated to post a hinny for so long since the fandom intimidates me :). But here we go...

A Bedtime Story

It was a dark and cold evening, and after a long week at the Auror department, Harry was more than ready for a nightcap. Firewhiskey in hand, he settled onto the couch next to Ginny, who was wrapped up in a fleece blanket by the crackling fire. She snuggled up next to him, looping her arms around his waist as he draped one arm around her shoulder.

"Long day?" she asked.

"You have no idea." His fatigue was nothing out of the ordinary, as his new leadership position left him exhausted at the end of every week. He never saw Ron at work anymore since he left the department last year, which made the days at work seem endless. And of course, he missed the action of his prior position. He thought spending more time in the office and less in the field would help him conserve his energy, but soon found out that the lack of excitement just drained him more. Ginny knew all this, of course.

"Well thankfully, tomorrow is a day off for both of us," she said, reaching for Harry's glass of Firewhiskey and taking her own sip. "And the night is still young." She placed the glass on the coffee table. Before Harry could protest, she turned his face toward her and kissed him. Harry groaned through the kiss, and he felt Ginny smile against his lips. He was so tired, but Ginny had a way of convincing him he wasn't. So he conceded, gently pulling Ginny with him as he lowered himself to his back.

"Uncle Harry? Aunt Ginny?"

Harry and Ginny froze at the sound of Teddy's little voice calling from the staircase. Andromeda had been away for the past week, and Harry and Ginny were currently on day six of Teddy Duty. They didn't mind it one bit, but bedtime was turning out to be quite the struggle. It was the third time tonight that Teddy had come out of bed, and evidently they had gotten a little too comfortable with their privacy.

"Can you tell me a story?"

Ginny sighed. "What are you doing awake?" she asked, untangling herself from Harry's arms. She subtly straightened her shirt back out and Harry grinned, as if a five year old boy would have any idea what he was interrupting. "It's very late, Teddy."

"I can't sleep without a story!" said the blue-haired child as he entered the living room. When he came closer, Harry realized he had tears in his eyes.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look of both frustration and concern. "What happened, Teddy?"

"I don't want to be alone! I'm too scared to sleep alone," he said, his hair deepening to a darker, more ominous shade of blue.

"Ok," said Harry, shifting over to make room for him. "We will tell you a story. And you can come be with us on the couch for a while. You don't need to be alone."

Teddy nodded eagerly, before running around to the front of the sofa, and diving into the cushion between Harry and Ginny, his hair lightening in it's blue shade.

"What kind of story do you want to hear?" asked Ginny as she draped her arm around his little shoulders. He leaned into her, placing his head up against her arm. Harry couldn't help but smile at the easy affection between the two.

"Magical creatures!" said Teddy.

"Magical creatures?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. "Any particular kind of creatures?"

Teddy scrunched up his face in thought. "Way wolves."

Ginny looked at Teddy. "Way wolves? What are those?"

"Way wolves. The moon wolves."

"Oh. Do you mean werewolves?" said Harry cautiously, looking questioningly at Ginny, who shrugged.

"That's what I said," he replied, and his hair flickered red in frustration.

"Of course it is," said Ginny cheerfully. "We can tell you a story about a werewolf, if you'd like."

Teddy nodded in excitement before resting his head back down on Ginny's shoulder, and his hair settled at purple, as it did when he was content.

"We used to have a very good friend who was a werewolf," continued Harry. "He was a pretty cool bloke. Do you want to hear more about him?"

Teddy grinned. "Yes!"

"He was my teacher when I was in school. His name was Remus," said Harry. "Can you say Remus?"

"Wemus."

Ginny smiled. "Close enough," said Harry, before continuing his tale. "Remus became a werewolf when he was very young, and every single month, on the full moon, he would turn into a big scary wolf."

"Aaargh!" said Ginny abruptly, in imitation of a wolf growl, playfully digging her fingers into Teddy's side. Teddy shrieked then howled in laughter.

"Was he a mean way wolf?" he asked when he calmed down.

"No, he was a nice werewolf. But there are a lot of people who are afraid of werewolves, so he kept it a secret for a very long time. Every time the full moon came out, he would go out to the woods alone, and wait by himself until he could turn back into a human."

"He had to be alone? Was he sad?" asked Teddy, as his hair flashed blue again.

"I think he was very sad. It's lonely in the woods," said Harry. "I'd be pretty sad if I had to stay in the woods by myself. Wouldn't you?"

Teddy nodded, and snuggled up closer into Ginny's arms.

"One day, his three best friends found out that he was a werewolf. They discovered that he would disappear only when there was a full moon, so they asked him about it, and he told the truth."

"Uh oh," said Teddy. "Were they scared?"

"No, they weren't," said Harry. "But Remus thought they were scared, and it made him sad. Especially when they started spending more time together without him."

"Why?" said Teddy, as his hair brightened to an angry shade of red again.

"Well, Remus thought they didn't want to be his friend anymore, but it wasn't that. Do you know what it was?"

"What?" asked Teddy.

"They were working on a top secret project and wanted to surprise him. They were spending so much time together without Remus because they were brewing a magical potion that would help them turn into animals too."

"Like this?" Teddy scrunched up his face, and suddenly a pair of triangular puppy dog ears sprouted from the sides of his head.

"Exactly like that!" said Harry, as Ginny ruffled his ears. Teddy laughed as his ears slowly turned back into human ones. "But they couldn't do it as easily as you. They needed a potion to do it, and they could only pick one animal. It took more than a month to make the potion, and they didn't want to get caught, so that's why they were so sneaky about it."

"Did Wemus find out what they were doing?"

"He did. One night, under the full moon, he was in the woods by himself, and three more animals walked up to him. There was a dog, a rat, and a stag. He recognized them at once as his three best friends. And then he never had to spend a night alone in the woods again."

"I don't want to be alone either!" said Teddy.

"You don't have to be!" said Ginny. She reached for the two pillows that were behind her back and set them down on the coffee table, before motioning for Harry to do the same. He pulled the two pillows from his side and set them down next to hers.

Ginny took out her wand and pointed it at the first pillow, muttering a few incantations as it began to change shape. When she was done, the pillow resembled a stuffed animal puppy. "This is Padfoot!" she told Teddy as she handed it to him. He squealed in excitement.

Ginny did it again with the second pillow, altering until it looked like a little rat. "Wormtail." She repeated the process with the third, transfiguring it into a stag. "And Prongs."

Teddy reached for the other two pillows and hugged them into his chest, smiling, his hair swirling in color indecisively.

"There's one more!" said Ginny, as she turned her spellwork to the last pillow, and it reshaped into a wolf. "This one is Moony!" She placed the pillow on top of the pile of stuffed animals that Teddy was currently holding. Like his mother's, his hair had landed on bubblegum pink, as it always did when he was feeling truly happy.

"Wemus!"

"Yes! That one's Remus," said Harry. "He'll always be with you."

Teddy was smiling looking down at the stuffed animal. "I love wemus," he said as he hugged it closer.

"Remus loves you too," said Harry, as he reached a hand over to Teddy, ruffling his bright pink hair, as Ginny looked at him tenderly. "What do you say Teddy? Bedtime?"

Teddy nodded, standing up, still clutching his stuffed animals to his chest. Harry playfully chased him toward the stairs, roaring like a wolf as Teddy shrieked and giggled as he ran away from him. Harry couldn't help but laugh as he chased him all the way back to Teddy's room. Once tucked in, Teddy fell asleep quickly, while holding Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs close.

When Harry returned to the living room, Ginny was right where he left her, sipping away at Harry's forgotten firewhiskey, and looking admiringly at him.

"What's that look for?" asked Harry as he melted back into the couch next to her.

"Not so tired after all, are you?".

"What can I say? Chasing Teddy around gives me a lot more energy than sitting at a desk, filing paperwork-"

"You're gonna be an awesome dad," Ginny interrupted. "Maybe that's the new adventure you need," she said more softly.

Harry smiled at her, unable to ignore the jolt of excitement that Ginny's comment ignited. "Yeah. Maybe it is," he said, plucking the glass of firewhiskey from her fingers. "Anyway, where were we?" he said before kissing her again.

[sso-montana]

Of Dark Riders, Soul Riders and Nihili

As stated in this wonderful post by @pandoricexplorer, the Soul Riders, specifically the Moon and Sun / Star and Lightning circle stabilize each other. The work in balance, being most powerful when working together because of their differences. They compliment each other e.g. the heat/light of the Sun and cold/shadow of the Moon and the healing of the Star and destruction of the Lightning.

But what about the Dark Riders? Those are supposed to be the opposite of the Soul Riders. Not in a balance oriented kind of way, but as darkness trying to overshadow light. I always wondered which Dark Rider was the opposite of which circle, especially since the books made things more complicated and some clearer. In this poste I'm exploring exactly that concept and a little theory of mine regarding Nihili. The Soul Riders will be referred to as SR and Dark Riders as DR from here on. Spoilers for the books, obviously.

Starting with Jessica, she is the easiest to tell. Her powers are linked to shadows and darkness, making her the the opposite to Anne’s light. This has always stayed consistent throughout SSL, SSO and the SR books. Pretty straight forward. Additionally, her powers are a lot like Linda's, who can, for example, hide herself or others in the shadow of the Moon. Seeing those two going against each other would be an interesting fight, but I digress.

Katja, for one, was assumed to be the opposite of Linda. Considering how they changed her in the books and altered her look, I believe she works best as the opposite of Lisa. In the books it is stated that as soon as she is around, the room gets extremely cold. Her aura radiates a sense of death which is also very well portrait by her ice powers. Ice is cold, unforgiving. It can kill easily. The perfect contrast to the healing and life that the Star circle represents. 

Those were the easiest. From now on, things get a bit more tricky.

Going on to Sabine, she was always thought of as the opposite of Alex. Looking at the books, I wouldn't say that anymore. She caused the infection of Linda's wound, causing foulness and sickness to spread. Now, it would be easy to just look at that and say she's the opposite of the Star circle. But considering the bigger picture, I wouldn't say that to be true. Since her powers aren’t as straight forward as the first two, let's start with how she's portrait. When it comes to her powers, Sabine is always shown as wild, beastly, animalistic. Taking this into account, the Moon circle would make a lot of sense. The moon is something pure, calming. It affects the tides, basically water, which also represents cleansing and life. This calmness, this pureness works really well as opposite to the sickness and the wildness that Sabine represents. 

Lastly, we have Nihili. We haven't seen her yet, neither in game, nor in the books or anywhere else, so we don't know much about her. I consider this part more like a theory of mine than anything else, so take it as you wish. It once was mentioned that she was supposed to be the opposite of the Star circle, but since that would be Katja, and the others are also all taken, that leaves only Alex as an option. Now, this might seem a bit strange since there are a few possibilities when it comes to opposite of Lightning, and this might seem far fetched, but hear me out. I might be a bit biased her because of Star Wars and Darth Nihilus but oh well. The Lightning circles main power is, of course, shooting varying types of Lightning. Lightning is hot, bright, it's an output of energy and an expansion of hot air. Her OG name was Elise before the Team changed it for seemingly no reason, but maybe there was one. Nihil, for one, means out of nothing/nothing. Usually things like emptiness, voids or coldness are associated with that. The most logical explanation so would be that Nihili can use some sort of Void power. Voids are cold, dark spaces that suck in whatever comes near them. Works pretty well as opposed to the bright, hot expansion that Lightnings are. Now, this would very much make Nihili one of the most, if not the most dangerous and powerful DR. This can be a very good reason as to why she causes discord and chaos within in the DR, as stated by Darko. It would also be logical that Mister Sands would wait to use her until everything else is ready and prepared, using her as some sort of trump card against the druids. Nihili’s appearance, if she ever appears, could then very well indicate that the final battle is close. She could be an incredibly dangerous and interesting character if this theory is true.

Please keep in mind, this is just a personal headcanon/theory of mine. If anyone would like to add or share their perspectives on this, I’d love to hear those!

[system76]

How we Arrived at the Pop!_OS COSMIC Design

Pop!_OS 21.04 introduces the COSMIC desktop, which changes the workflow that users have become accustomed to since Pop!_OS first released. With such a considerable alteration, we’d like to walk you through the design decisions that led to the new COSMIC experience, and why we think it improves computing for users and customers.

Guiding Principles

Deliver advanced computing features in easily consumable ways. Auto-tiling in Pop!_OS 20.04 was the first major realization of this principle. Auto-tiling manages the window layout for users rather than users managing all those floating windows themselves. In COSMIC, we eschew a traditional “Start” menu for the launcher. The launcher is a fast and modern way to launch and switch between applications and access operating system features.

Simple and straightforward. We prefer literal design, in that there should be little to no guessing what a button or UI component does; it should say what it is and do what it says. The interface should be easy to describe, and no single component should do too much. Keep components focused on the user’s intended action.

Meaningful customization doesn’t have to be overwhelming. Some people prefer a minimalist setup and navigate their desktop with the keyboard. Some navigate primarily by the mouse, opening applications from a dock or application picker and clicking the system menu to suspend or shutdown. Others love gestures to glide around the interface. These preferences can exist simultaneously without complicating settings to the point of being overwhelming. Careful, considerate design can accommodate them all.

Launching Apps

In previous versions of Pop!_OS, you opened applications by opening the Activities Overview then clicking the app’s icon in the Dash or typing the app’s name and pressing enter. Each time a user opened Activities, all windows zoomed out, and the dash and workspace picker appeared.

Opening three applications involved:

Windows zoom out, open application, windows zoom in. Windows zoom out, open application, windows zoom in. Windows zoom out, open application, windows zoom in. That’s a lot of zooming out and in. These transitions are heavy for the simple task of opening applications. And give the feeling that the interface is slow, taking the user out of context. In Pop!_OS 21.04, press Super, type the beginning of the app name and press enter, or click the app icon in the dock. No heavy transitions, animations, or context switching. Simple and straightforward.

Switching Between Apps

Switching between applications with Alt+tab is messy. Everyone has experienced the over-tab. Alt+tab tab tab. Dang, I missed it. Tab tab, oh I have two Firefox windows open. It’s painful. In Pop!_OS 21.04, press super and arrow down to switch to the app you want. Pop!_OS will highlight the window so you know you’re in the right place. Or, press Super then type the first few characters of the app you want and press enter. You can jump from your first monitor to your third or to an app three workspaces down. It’s fast and simple.

Oh, but there’s more. Have newer laptop hardware with a nice, large touchpad? Swipe three fingers in the direction of the app you want. You’ll be transported immediately to your intended destination.

Search

We’re pretty skeptical of universal search in operating systems. User testing revealed it's uncommon to search for files or contacts in the Pop!_OS Activities Overview. We have some hunches as to why.

Mixing apps, files, settings, contacts, and web results in one place clutters the interface and is never quite universal enough to be the starting point for all desktop activities. You might be able to send an email to a contact in a search result, but you can’t start a conversation with them in Slack or Discord. Users end up using the app where the content or person resides. They search the web in a browser, a contact where you want to talk to them, or files in the file browser. The search results are better simply because an app's results are inherently limited to what the user anticipates finding in the app.

For those reasons we keep default launcher results limited and focused on what the operating system provides: applications to launch or switch to and system features such as suspend, shutdown, logout, settings, and switching graphics modes on supported hardware (type “Switch” to try it).

And while we don’t think showing results from all sources for all queries is a good idea, we can make opening search sources faster. Open the Launcher and type “google system76” and the browser will open with Google’s search results, or type “?” into the Launcher to see more features. We’ll be adding carefully curated tools and improving them over time.

Applications

Browsing installed applications is a necessary component of any operating system, especially for new users. As new users become accustomed to the Pop!_OS workflow and the applications they have installed, they may migrate to the more efficient launcher or simply prefer to use the Applications view.

With that in mind, two improvements will arrive after release: One, windows on secondary monitors won’t spread, and two the Application picker will open on whichever monitor has focus. Because the vast majority of our customers use multiple monitors, we’re slowly moving away from the primary/additional monitor concept and toward treating all monitors equally.

We are also discussing ways to make the Applications view more useful, but more research and experimentation is necessary to flesh out possible improvements.

Workspaces

Of all the surprises that show up in user testing, how few people use workspaces was at the top of the list. Many used multiple monitors so spreading out windows to different workspaces wasn’t valuable. For others, their task focus didn’t take them beyond what fit well enough on a single workspace.

Then on the flip side, there were some folks who couldn’t live without workspaces. It’s how they organize their work and thought process. They generally maximized windows and separated them on different workspaces on smaller laptop displays.

We don’t think the fact that fewer people than anticipated use workspaces is a flaw in the concept or implementation of workspaces. Rather, we think it’s simply a need or preference to use them or not. Armed with the evidence, we decided not to put workspaces front and center. They’re easy to access and the buttons to access them can be disabled if they’re not part of the user's workflow.

In a post-release update, we will add the workspace picker to all monitors when “Workspace Span Displays” is enabled. This is once more an extension of our effort to treat all monitors equally for our multi-monitor loving customers.

More to Come

An option to add the Top Bar to all monitors

An option to auto-hide the Top Bar

Dock and Top Bar transparency

Gesture controls in Settings

Tiling options in Settings

Additional Hot Corner options

Horizontal Workspace Picker position options

[jaskiersvalley]

@slythnerd​ this came through as a submission and I can’t seem to write a little thank you fic to it without it trying to alter your message. You are an absolute sweetheart for sending this in, thank you. I’ll be sure to be passing this sweetness on to others and keep the game going. Meanwhile, I think you’ve been reading and commenting on Crest of the Wave over on AO3 (I really hope it’s you, the name is similar and the icon is the same). So, hopefully, that means you’re enjoying the Eskel/Lambert/Cahir relationship developing there (and don’t worry, Cahir has one more bad chapter then it will be on the up for a little while). Anyway, here’s some idiot boys.

They met at a fancy dress party Jaskier was hosting. Geralt had invited Lambert and Eskel, knowing they’d get a kick out of dressing up. Sure enough, Eskel was there as a domesticated werewolf to Lambert’s cheery vampire. It was fun and silly, they were messing around with Geralt (wrapped in toilet paper and calling himself a mummy) when Eskel’s head whipped to the side as he spotted something.

“Well hello!” His eyes were zeroed in on a dog on a harness who was happily sat by a man talking to Jaskier. “I have to go say hello. That’s a German Shepherd.”

Naturally, Lambert followed too, intrigued. If someone was so fond of his dog he brought him to a party, he couldn’t be a bad person. It was probably exactly what Eskel was thinking too.

“Lambert! Eskel!” Jaskier waved at them. “Come meet Cahir.”

“We just had to, especially as he seems to have such a handsome companion,” Eskel replied and offered his hand to the dog who ignored him.

“Please don’t fuss him,” Cahir asked softly. It seemed a bit rude but Eskel nodded with a small apology.

Despite the odd start, the three of them seemed to really hit it off. To the point that they agreed to meet at Jaskier’s coffee shop for a drink. It was within walking distance for all of them and it was a place they were all familiar with. Plus, Jaskier could act as a chaperone of sorts to keep things going well. Because it wasn’t like Lambert and Eskel were very subtle about their interest in Cahir. But not everyone was keen on the idea of being invited into an existing relationship as a third.

On the day of the coffee date, Lambert and Eskel piled into the coffee shop a little early, keen to make a good impression. It also meant they got to watch as Cahir arrived, a dog in tow. Interestingly, Jaskier didn’t even bat an eyelid at the fact he had a dog in his coffee shop which was something he usually didn’t tolerate. In fact, he seemed to pretend the dog wasn’t even there, scanning Cahir’s bottle of sparkling water without so much as a glance to the dog.

“We were expecting one handsome companion,” Lambert grinned. “You brought a friend.”

“Yes, well-” Cahir shrugged and looked at his dog.

As far as coffee dates went, it was easy and great. Eskel did shoot a few longing looks to Diesel, wishing he could make a fuss. But Diesel was aloof and so well behaved, ignoring everything in the cafe that wasn’t Cahir. Maybe, with time, he would warm up to them. Which was a heady thought, the idea of Eskel wanting more time with Cahir.

That evening, he and Lambert had a lot more talking to do and they were both relieved they still very much wanted the same thing - namely, Cahir. So they made plans for more dates which were dog friendly. So they went to parks, to outdoor exhibitions, wandering around town too. Diesel was there with them, stuck to Cahir’s side. He was so well behaved, he was even allowed in shops which impressed Lambert to no end.

The only odd thing was that Cahir didn’t always call him Diesel, sometimes Dizzy which even sounded like Dezzy. It was weird but neither Lambert or Eskel commented on it, just happy that they were getting along so well. They even invited Cahir back to theirs for dinner from time to time. Even there, Diesel sat by Cahir in his black harness, looking regal but still not giving Lambert or Eskel the time of day. They still had hope that it would change.

They were back at Jaskier’s coffee shop, Geralt sitting by the bistro area and chatting while Lambert, Eskel, Cahir and Diesel were sat in a corner, quietly chatting. Of late, Cahir had looked a little more tired and drawn, more keen to stay local for their dates. Out of the blue, Diesel started whining and barking softly, dragging at Cahir’s arm. He was insistent, tugging until Cahir looked at his dog with a sigh.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said and got up, making his way to the counter, Diesel glued to his side, all attention on Cahir. A quick exchange with Jaskier and Cahir was allowed into the staff room behind the counter, Jaskier following him in. Even more bizarrely, Geralt took up Jaskier’s spot behind the counter to serve customers.

 A little while later, Jaskier emerged, giving Geralt’s shoulder a squeeze before approaching Lambert and Eskel.

“Cahir’s not feeling great. I’ve ordered him a taxi. He says he’s really sorry to bail on you like this.”

Which was weird as fuck but there wasn’t much they could do. Cahir’s barely touched water bottle sat on the table, condensation dripping down its side.

“Does he want his drink?” Eskel asked, not know what else to say.

Jaskier picked it up with a tight smile. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

With that, he returned to the staff room, leaving quiet disappointment and confusion in his wake.

The next couple of dates were better, Cahir apologised for the coffee shop incident and assured them he was alright with a “just one of those things” wave of the hand. Then he cancelled another date, saying he wasn’t having a good day. It was worrying, especially when he had been looking a little under the weather before.

“Why don’t you come over?” Cahir had asked them. “I don’t feel like going out but the house is getting too lonely.”

With that, Lambert and Eskel had an address, a date and time. The excitement at seeing Cahir again, especially in the comfort of his own home was great. They knocked on the door in the evening and were surprised when Cahir opened the door looking drawn and greasy.

“Sorry, come on in.” He was in a thick hoodie and comfortable sweatpants, Diesel by his side, looking alert.

“You make Diesel wear a harness at home too?” Lambert asked.

“Denzel.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a glance. They had been convinced the dog was called Diesel. Maybe that’s why Cahir shot them odd looks every now and then when they talked about the dog. Stepping in, they gave Cahir a hug and, as much as it pained them, ignored his dog. There was a soft, low bark from within the house and suddenly, there was another German Shepherd bounding in.

“That’s Diesel. You can play with him if you want.”

Jaw dropping, Lambert looked between the two dogs. “You had two all along?”

Now it was Cahir’s turn to stare at them like they didn’t know. “Yes? They need time off too. They can’t work around the clock.”

It seemed there was a whole realm of miscommunication and Eskel sank to his knees to greet Diesel who seemed all too happy at the attention. It was Lambert who finally asked in a small, hesitant voice, “Working?”

Looking between Lambert and Eskel, Cahir looked a little constipated. “You did realise they’re service dogs, right?” The embarrassed silence gave more answers than words could have. “Ah.”

What followed was a rather awkward conversation, including moments of embarrassed giggling.

“Did you not see the bracelet I wear?”

“I thought it was some cool piece of jewelry, was waiting for you to explain its significance.”

And, “What did you think happened at Jaskier’s?”

“My initial thought was an affair. Or that you’d shit yourself.”

The bracelet was pulled off Cahir’s wrist, and passed to Lambert and Eskel to inspect. They read the words on the metal in silence. “Epilepsy?”

That all too familiar shrug was their reply. “I was doing okay then got a new doctor who decided that the meds I take were too strong, given that I’d been coping so well of late. So he changed it. Which is why I’ve not been doing so great.”

Right on cue, Denzel yipped and yowled, nudging Cahir’s hand. With an apologetic glance at the two, Cahir sank down to the floor.

“You might want to go into the kitchen. There’s drinks in the fridge. I’ll come grab you in a minute.”

Not knowing how else to respond, Lambert and Eskel walked into the kitchen. One glance over their shoulder showed Denzel bell crawling closer to Cahir and pressing under his hand until fingers curled into the fur on his neck.

That night, Lambert and Eskel stayed up late when they got back home, reading up all they could. There were a lot of questions they wanted answers to, easily admitting that they knew squat about epilepsy other than what the media at large occasionally depicted it as. It was a steep learning curve, one that wasn’t a one night of research kind of thing.

“You don’t have a bathtub?” Eskel had asked one evening, Cahir lying in his lap.

“Can’t exactly use it. Almost drowned the last time I tried to take a bath.”

The first time they saw Cahir have a fit, it wasn’t as terrifying as anticipated. In fact, Lambert felt quite calm, all things considered, as he sat by Cahir’s back while Diesel was at his front and Eskel had volunteered to get drinks. When he returned, he say quietly with Lambert, shoulders pressed together in silent support. It was the first time they sat with Cahir like this but it most definitely wasn’t going to be the last.

[go-hux-yourself]

Prisoners of circumstance

I’m a couple days behind as things are half-finished but this is Day 3′s FebuWhump prompt fill for imprisonment :D Good ol’ gingerpilot :) This work titled Prisoners of circumstance.

See also on my ao3 here. My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

--

They dragged Hux away in binders while Poe fought the oxygen mask being fixed to his face on the gurney. There were hands trying to remove the collar from his neck. He was bleeding, and he knew they were trying to help, but his only concern was for Hux.

“Commander, lie still, please. You’re bleeding-“

“Hugs!” Poe felt delirious, reaching out as Hux left his immediate line of sight, roughly taken away in binders. He tried yelling out again for the man, and immediately cried out in pain instead.

“Poe, take it easy--”

There was something mixed in with the oxygen on his face; something chemically-sweet. Medicine, or painkillers. He wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t think straight as dizziness took him. But whether that was from the blood-loss, or the narcotics, he didn’t know.

“...Hugs!…” He was being moved out of the hangar, ceiling above him once more as they crossed a threshold. “H-He’s on our side-”

“Poe that’s--” Poe looked widely up at Finn as the man kept pace, a steadying hand on his shoulder far away from the wound. “You’ll be okay, just take it easy and let them help you.”

His vision was spotty-- he was going to pass out- but he had to let them know. They had to know; there couldn’t be any misunderstandings. Poe grabbed Finn’s forearm where the other man was trying to help keep him down. The ceiling was moving quickly above him. It was dizzying and disorienting. “...you can’t-- Finn!”

“I’m right here, man. Right here.” It was difficult to give him a quick pat with his free hand, but Finn tried to reassure him. “You’re safe, alright?”

Finn’s gaze was intense with concern as Poe’s eyes locked with his, his hand squeezing weakly in urgency. He couldn’t fight against the chemically-sweet air any longer, grip lessening as he barely got the words out. “...he’s… he’s our spy… a spy…”

--

Poe was disoriented when he woke up, heart-rate spiking after barely a moment as his consciousness connected with reality. Hux.

A gentle murmur reached him through the blood rushing in his ears, and Poe realized he wasn’t alone. He calmed just a bit as a hand pat his leg reassuringly over the covers; Leia at his bedside, Dr. Kalonia standing next to her.

“So you’re alive and in one piece,” Leia spoke. “You’ve got more lives than a cat, Dameron.”

Poe blinked at her.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Kalonia asked.

“...where’s Hux?” Poe croaked instead, mouth and throat dry.

“In a cell.” A look passed between Leia and Dr. Kalonia. The doctor made an excuse of getting something for Poe to drink, leaving them in a moment of privacy.

Poe opened his mouth to speak, but Leia beat him to it.

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, Poe,” she said plaintively. “How is it the Starkiller is in our custody? What happened?”

“...he’s our spy.” Poe found the words easily enough. It was only because of Hux that he was even still alive.

“Him?”

He nodded emphatically. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed hard. “It’s been him the whole time… He got me out of there. Can’t go back. Doesn’t wanna go back.” Poe moved to sit up in his bed, wincing a little. He felt tender where they must’ve stitched the wound closed.

“You’ve been gone for weeks, Dameron.”

“I-I know.”

“How are you still alive?”

“...he kept me alive.” Poe began to get a bad feeling. “I know it sounds nuts, but it's real. Everything we’ve ever gotten is from him. He’s on our side.”

“Poe, we were told Kylo Ren took you prisoner himself...”

Yeah, that much was true. But Poe had been in disguise when the town had been rounded up, and the captives had been presented to Hux’s discretion as Ren headed after those who’d retreated into the forests.

Hux had recognized him almost immediately— had studied his face beyond mistake after the pilot had destroyed their dreadnought. Poe had thought he was royally screwed when he saw the recognition alight in Hux’s eyes.

But the general hadn’t said anything, instead observing the others who’d been captured, looking for more infiltrators. No one stood out, but he didn’t indicate Poe, either. The pilot had been processed with everyone else, giving a false name to their intake and being taken out of a cell just as soon as he’d been put in one.

He’d been brought to Hux for an interrogation, but not torture. No, he’d been Hux’s unwitting contact, caught in a set of coincidences that had placed him far too close to Ren for the knowledge in his head. He had to hide Poe. They were far from any inhabited systems already, and no way to possibly sneak him out until their course changed.

Poe was still having trouble believing it himself. From that first accusative finger Hux had pointed at him for being an idiot and getting caught and putting them both in jeopardy, Poe had realized he kind of liked the guy.

The small ysalamir named Millicent that Hux kept in his quarters was the only thing that borrowed him peaceful moments. It wasn’t quite a pet, but it’s very-real force-negating qualities earned the reptile the affectionate nickname of “Millie”, and a habitat with a warm rock.

The animal became Poe’s new accessory. It was the only way Hux could guarantee his safety when Ren was on board, the reptile curled up in Poe’s collar. He needed his presence undetected. Hux had information for the Resistance, and Poe needed to stay alive for his overall deadliness in battle.

The implication that Poe might’ve instead had his free-will affected, or his memory altered, made him frown. “I— what? Are you kidding me?” A flare of indignance and insult burned to life inside of him. Leia gave him an earnest look, but she didn’t entirely deny it. “You think I was brainwashed? I’m telling the truth.”

“It’s not like that,” she said with an earnest sort of tone. “I know you, Poe. And I know how powerful my son is… They had you for weeks, and we know what their reconditioning programs alone do. Put yourself in my shoes, commander.”

Poe had a really bad feeling about this. “...Can I see him?”

“Not right now, Poe.”

He suppressed the chill of anxiety at the base of his spine, growing as he anticipated another negative. “...Can I leave?”

“Not yet, Poe.”

So he was to be every bit a prisoner as Hux was until they decided whatever it was they decided about ‘Poe’s state of mind’. It was so laughably ridiculous it almost made him want to cry.

He told himself to remain calm, think clearly… Decided to spill his guts— he was in love with the man, he’d let them read his mind to prove it- but then Dr. Kalonia was coming in to the warning alarm on Poe’s vitals, and he was given a sedative to rest.

They’d talk about this later, and Leia promised she wouldn’t let anything happen to Hux while they figured things out. Poe was recovering from what could’ve been a death-blow; would’ve if he hadn’t gotten to help so quickly.

His body was weak right now, but Leia promised, as his vision swam and his eyes grew heavy, that he’d be up and about again soon after his body had a chance to rest and heal. They would talk about everything later, when he wasn’t freshly out of a coma.

But right now, as his eyes finally shut and he relaxed into the covers, he needed to heal.

--

my kofi | ao3 main

[majorshiraharu]

Echoes In My Mind; Chapter 1 - Icy Alliance - EchoxReader Fic

Echo x (Female) Reader fic 

---------------------------------------------------- Content Rating: Mature/18+ Eventual NSFW Smut Warnings:  Swearing Violence Anxiety Mention of violent canon events

-Trigger Warnings for future chapters:  Torture Injuries Recovery Nightmares PTSD (rather warn you now before you become invested, after this warnings will only be labeled for individual chapters at the start of each) 

-This fic will be added to my ao3 account and to the masterlist, if you want to be added to a taglist please let me know. Y/N = Your name  Y/O/N = Your original name (since your character is going under an alias for most of the fic, before later on revealing her real name)

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

Intro: After order 66 you escape the Empires grips and go on back to your bounty hunting ways, your ship was damaged in a mission gone wrong and you’ve been stranded on a cold icy planet doing whatever jobs you can to fix your ship and finally get out of here. Along the way, you run into some guys with familiar faces, one who reminds you of the man you loved that died years ago at the Citadel 

-You're collecting your reward for a bounty you just turned in - just then a male Gotarite comes up behind you grabbing your shoulder - you whip around pulling your blaster out of its holster as you use your elbow to push away the hand, now with your blaster pointed directly at his face - "Vegree?!" you shout, lowering your blaster. "I thought you were going to blast my head off, what the kriff were you thinking Y/N?" he spits out angrily both of his offset green beady eyes staring at you. "Man I'm sorry but that's what you get for grabbing me from behind like that, you're lucky I recognized your stench so quickly" you said as smugly as you could manage. 

"Whaaat didd youu jusst saayy?!" Oh great you thought, you know shits about to go down when he starts stuttering like that.   "I'm just teasing you old man, stop getting your teeth in a twist, you might bite your tongue off" you said trying to cool the tension rising. 

"Wellll listten heere Y/N, iff yoouuu ssso mucch aas pooinnt thhatt tthiingg att mme aggainn wwe'rre gonnnaa hhavve mooree prrobblemmms!" he shouts, clearly not taking your jokes well.  "More problems than we already have, haha, I find that hard to believe, well anyway what did you want?" hoping that changing the subject might make his mood better. 

He lets out a big snort as he swallows his anger with you to finally move on to his point for being there, "I got a mission for ya, pays well, might get ya out of this dump." 

"Well, what is it, who's asking, how much, who I gotta kill, or capture, anything to get out of here with my sanity."  "Can't tell ya who from, it'll pay ya enough to fix your ship, but no killing, it's purely a spy mission" he says looking around for anyone listening. 

"A spy mission, urgh, fine, who or what is my target and what do I need to get" you scoff out, you've always hated spy missions because they usually involved you getting found at some point, the last spy mission ended with you running to your ship under heavy fire, that mission was also the reason you were stuck on this godforsaken trash pile of a planet. 

"Stop complaining, ya want in or not?!" he asks pulling out a datapad  "Fine" you growl reaching out for the datapad.  He waits for a moment before handing it to you, "Ya will find all ya need on that, just make sure to deliver what they want by the deadline, I ain't the middle man on this one so ya better not get snippy with da wrong people" he says in an almost worried way as he gets up and walks off into the crowd of people in the cantina. 

What's that supposed to mean you think to yourself, he's never been so worried or secretive about a mission before. You turn on the datapad looking over the words and images on the screen, seems easy enough, you'll just have to steal another ship to get to the location, which was on a nearby planet, great, good luck finding a decent ship in this place. You would just take a ship and run, but being a bounty hunter that wouldn't help you get any jobs and would probably end with someone putting a bounty on your head, so best to just borrow one for a few hours so you can complete this mission and then fix your own ship.

You get up and walk outside, breaking the datapad in two and discarding it as it instructed, it's cold outside, your face feels like it's already starting to freeze, you head towards the landing pads and the shipyard - it's pretty empty today. Then you spot an all-black ship, it looks strange among the rest, almost like it could be an imperial transport shuttle, but you've never seen one like this, sadly imperial or not it would have to do, there was nothing else nearby and not to mention you wanted out of the cold so bad you'd gladly pick a fight with some imperials right now if it meant getting out of this cold. -You hack the control panel on the outside gaining you access to the inside of the ship, where you notice a skull painted on the side and a bunch of posters, eww this ship must belong to some lonely strange guys by the look of this messy place and the different things scattered about.   You walk to the front of the ship working on hacking the panel so you can fly out of here, this is harder than you thought, normally you were pretty good at this stuff, but someone has heavily modified this ship, no wonder it didn't look familiar, whoever these people were they knew how to modify a ship that's for sure.

-Suddenly you hear people talking, and it's getting closer, oh kriff you think, with your luck, it's probably the people who own this ship, and by the sound of it there are 5 men, you could probably take them as long as you got the jump on them. -You put the cover over the control panel trying to be as quiet as possible as you hear the door to the ship open "kriff" you let slip out as you try to duck into a hiding spot behind part of the wall near the door. "So boys now that we've delivered this bounty and finally gotten some grub where do you all want to go?" asks one of the men, he has a distinctive accent, they all start talking, making it hard to tell what they're saying, especially over the sound of the one guy shouting about wanting to beat up some clankers. You try to take advantage of their babbling to sneak a peak for how you might get out of this predicament. 

 Well, there's no way out, they're all standing right by the door, and there's no way to sneak by them or - your thoughts are cut off by the sudden realization that the cover you had hastily placed back on slid off the console and crashed hard onto the floor, stopping their bickering. 

"We really need to fix this thing, Tech, Echo, get over there and patch that back up will ya" the one with the accent says, causing you to shake with anxiety, knowing that in any second two of those guys would be walking right by you, should I attack them, or should I try to explain myself, you think quickly unsure of your choices as your anxiety swallows you up, hearing their footsteps coming closer, you close your eyes. -You try and dart out from your hiding spot to hopefully catch them off guard giving you enough time to get out and into the snowstorm outside, but instead, you just run right into the guy who was just around the corner crashing to the ground as you land right on top of him with a grunt. "What the heck" you hear the rest around you yell, as the one below you lets out a small grunt before looking up at you, right into your eyes, both of you just kinda stare at each other, unsure of what's going on. 

"Echo" the one to the left of you shouts, grabbing you and pulling you back locking your arms behind you. Did he say Echo? you think,  "Let me go" you shout cracking the back of your head into his helmet and kicking him back, freeing yourself, you try to run, but the one called Echo gets up quickly stepping in front of you and grabbing both your wrists as you try to push him away,  "I said let go" you yell kicking his leg, "OW!!" you scream out realizing you just kicked your shin into a leg that was metal. "Are you okay?" he asks instantly letting go of your wrists, as you bend down to hold your aching shin, you look up to see a worried look on his face,  "Why do you care?" you said coldly as you stood up, still in pain, making him frown.  "I care because you just kick my solid metal leg." he says in a joking way, making you look away, feeling guilty for being such a jerk.  "I'm sorry" you say while staring at the floor, "I'm just trying to finish this mission so I can fix my ship and get off this damn planet." "So you were going to steal our ship?" he says raising an eyebrow with a smirk crawling across his face.   "Just to get to the mission location, I was gonna bring it back" you basically shout, now getting flustered by the way he's looking at you. 

"Well, where are you headed maybe we can take you."  "Wait now hold on there" one with the gray hair and bad attitude says  "We aren't seriously going to let this little girl hitch a ride to some bounty on our ship, are we?" he spits out.

"HEY, I'm not a little girl, I'm a bounty hunter" you shout at him, causing him to roll his eyes and cross his arms.  "I think we are" says the one with the accent grinning at the displeasure these words brought to the face of his comrade.  "Sorry about that, Crosshair here doesn't trust easily, my name is Hunter, this is Wrecker, over there is Tech and well you've just met Echo" he says pointing out his comrades to you. 

As he does this you notice they all look kinda similar, the one called Echo looks a lot like the clones you use to fight alongside.  "You're clones?" you say hesitantly,  "Yes" said Echo,  "Well actually we've all been altered in some way to enhance specific skills" says Tech in a way that was almost too fast for you to understand. "It's good to meet you, umm..."  "Y/N" you blurt out nervously,  "Y/N" Hunter says finishing his sentence.  You notice Echo smiling at you after you just blurted out your name, causing you to slightly blush, trying to look away from him in a way that wasn't obvious. 

"Well Y/N, where are you headed?" asks Echo.   “I'm headed to Luminues, the planet not too far from here, it's just a simple mission to get some information from a warehouse for someone."

"Hmm, for a mission that sounds so simple I'm surprised they'd pay enough to fix your ship, who's asking for this information?" Hunter asks looking concerned,  "I know, they didn't give me much information on the job and I don't know who they are, but I promise it will just be a simple in and out and then I'll be out of your hair" you say trying to sound convincing.  "LET'S GO THEN" shouts Wrecker,   "All right" says Hunter sternly, "but we can't help you and if our ship gets damaged we'll need some of that bounty in return",   "No problem, I'd be happy to share whatever I have left after I repair my ship" you say thankful that they are willing to even take you in the first place. They all take their spots, standing or sitting around as Tech starts the ship and sets it on a course to Luminues, you awkwardly stand near the wall staring out into space until you notice Echo walking up to you. "Umm...so you know clones?" he says unsure of how to phrase his question, "Yeah, I use to...." you cut yourself off, remembering that despite not being a Jedi you were still labeled as an enemy of the Empire and you didn't want to give yourself away, "umm, I um I...I worked on ships for the Republic" you said pretty unconvincingly, Echo looks at you tilting his head and raising a brow, he seems to understand that you can't say exactly who you are and accepts your lame answer.  "Well then Y/N, I guess if you mostly worked on ships we probably never met, I was on the front lines a lot, fighting with the...” - suddenly he gets cut off by Crosshair who hits him in the shoulder,  "She doesn't care Echo and remember we're trying to stay low key" he says jabbing him with his elbow,    "Eh, sorry" Echo says with a sad look on his face as he turns away to walk towards Tech.  "We'll be landing shortly" Tech says while pressing a bunch of buttons,  "You might want to hold on to something" Crosshair teases, making you let out a snort as you walk closer to the front of the ship, at that moment the ship makes a hard turn before it jumps back to just barely make a landing on the small landing pad causing you to grab onto Echo to stay on your feet, he grabs your waist trying to steady you before looking up at you, both of you blush before letting go of each other. - Tech opens the door leading outside. "Okay, we got you here, Echo can give you our com channel so you can contact us when you need a pickup, otherwise we'll be here waiting." Hunter says walking toward the open door, Echo softly grabs your arm typing their com channel into your comlink  "Thank you" you say quietly smiling at Echo, causing him to let go of your arm and look away,  "Uh, no problem" he says quietly in return. -You walk out the door as they wish you good luck, let's get this over with you think to yourself finally setting off for your bounty.

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

-Notes: Hope you all enjoyed this, I haven't written a fic like this in a while so it's nice to do this again, Chapter 2 will probably be out sometime next week, I will post updates. If you want to be added to a taglist just send me an ask or request so in a comment <3 uwu 

[saiilorstars]

Illuminated (One Shot pt.1)

{Part 2}

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female OC

Chapter Summary: **One-shot series. Now that Steve made his choice to fight against his own team, he has to live with the consequences even if it means leaving behind the one person he couldn't possibly forget about. Seren Soul isn't a woman he can easily forget. He just never has the right words, much less the bravery he needs, to tell her everything. It's then Seren who starts a dance of caution with him, after they're forced to separate, in an attempt to figure out what those words he couldn't say to her were.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ 

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

Seren’s face claim is the actress Mariluz Bermúdez!

If someone once told her where she would be standing today, she would've laughed in their face. Or maybe she would've been a little bit rude about it. But really, how would she have ever guessed that one day she would be standing in a beautiful, hidden, civilization in Africa? Wakanda. A terribly underestimated place. It was too bad that none of her attention could focus on the beauty of it, the genius of its architecture.

No.

Her attention was on what was coming. What had happened was already done and there was nothing she could do to go back and prevent it. She was stuck with this future and its uncertainty, its cruelty for a lack of a better word. It wasn't the end of the world, persay, but it was for her.

"Agent Soul," she heard her name from a distance.

Agent Seren Soul tore her gaze from the glass wall to see the King of Wakanda himself coming up to her. She fixed her body posture that'd been slacking and slouching as soon as she was alone (the grim thoughts were clearly getting the best of her). "Has it been done?" she asked quietly. Her voice may have been frail but it was also better to speak quietly for precaution.

"In a moment," T'Challa answered. "They are saying goodbye."

"Ah," Seren chewed on her bottom lip. "Will he really be safe here?"

"Wakanda is the only place no one would be able to get through without our noticing. Like I told Steve, this is the best option."

Seren nodded. She looked past him when she spotted Steve coming out of the room. It'd been done. Bucky was gone again.

"I will give you a moment," T'Challa said and walked past Steve. They exchanged a couple words that Seren couldn't hear, making her even more anxious. She suspected plans were already being made and she wouldn't know a thing about details.

At last, Steve came up to her. She felt ridiculously nervous but they weren't misplaced. "Are you okay?" she eventually asked him.

"He'll be good here," he said, though it sounded a lot like he was still in the process of convincing himself.

"Bucky made the right choice," she assured him. She laid a hand on his arm and offered him a smile. What else was there? No words would ever be able to comfort him after losing his best friend yet again. "And you know that he'll eventually come back." Maybe that one would mean something.

"I'm afraid of the 'when', to be honest," Steve admitted. He had no idea when Shuri would be able to pull all the brainwashing out of Bucky's head. "But I have to focus on what I have right now and what I need to do."

Seren felt her nerves rising. This was the conversation she was deeply afraid of having. The others. Everyone who had fought alongside him were arrested and incarcerated. She knew very well that Steve wasn't going to just forget that. "What are you going to do?"

Steve's eyebrows raised slightly, his expression indicating he already had thought of a way to go about it. "It's best if you don't know." He really preferred that way. Seren had done her best to lessen the tension between him and Tony but in the end nothing had worked. They fought and now they were here. Steve wasn't going to risk Seren's status for the likes of him. He'd already dragged everyone else down. Never Seren.

Seren shook her head. "Oh, don't do that."

"I will because they're going to go to you first. You may be a CIA Agent but they know very well what you are to," —he cleared his throat, "—me."

Seren deliberated upon hearing those words. She ignored (or rather tried to ignore) the skip of her heart. "What...what exactly does that mean?"

Steve looked her dead in the eye. "Seren, they might not know everything but they know enough. We were close..." More than close at one point, and they both knew it. It was perhaps the reason Seren turned her head away from him. She crossed her arms, letting her fingers drum against her skin. Her nervous tell. He'd picked up on it almost as soon as they met. "They could think that you helped me."

"I would help you," she whispered.

Steve had no doubt in his mind that she would help him; she'd risk her own job in the process just to help him escape. "I know." She flinched lightly when his hand touched her arm. "Seren, please, let me go."

Seren finally gave him her gaze. He almost wished she hadn't. Her usually cheery green eyes were shiny with tears. "You're telling me to let you go after everything?"

"Well—"

"Everything," she reiterated with a strong emphasis beckoning him to think about what she meant. It wasn't fair to ask that of him when they had both agreed to never bring it up again, but she was desperate, and scared...and so, so out of her element here. "If you can do it so easily then I envy you."

"No, I can't," Steve admitted in the quietest of voices. How could he ever forget that night between them? They both agreed it happened suddenly but Steve knew better, at least in regards to him. It wasn't random, it didn't just happen. There were reasons it happened...for him at least.

His feelings for Seren started a long time ago. She was utterly kind, always professional and most of all loyal. She had dedicated her life to S.H.I.E.L.D., working hard and striving to help the others. She was one of the first people he'd met after waking up and very quickly found her to be about the only agent—the only person—he could trust. He could trust that she didn't hide secrets like most agents (or director for that matter) and she plenty of secrets that made her a potential target (like the fact she wasn't entirely human). They worked well together. They made a good team. Somewhere along the way, he started paying more attention to her, whether it was her sparkly green eyes or her pink cheeks or sweet laugh. His favorite thing about her had turned out to be her sweet laugh because it always ended up happening when he failed to catch up to the modern world. While he would typically be embarrassed, she would just laugh softly and teach him.

She was timid, even. She with her alter-ego known to be powerful and literally out of this world. Stardust. She who could take down flocks of enemies. Yes, she was timid and so very real. They spent most of their time together, whether it was at S.H.I.E.L.D. or outside. Even when the teasing started, they collectively ignored it and focused on whatever they were doing that day. Steve could vividly remember the exact moment he knew he'd fallen for her.

She introduced him to the sweet delicacy of cinnamon rolls with pecans. It was her favorite pastry and she was sure that he would love it. They were sitting at a table with said pastries in front of them. They looked a bit different from what Steve was used to, naturally, and he'd been a little hesitant to try them.

Seren laughed softly. She brought an arm over the table and rested her cheek on her palm. "You gotta do me the favor of at least trying it," she said. She'd picked up his fork and cut a piece of the cinnamon roll for him to taste. She then held it to him. "Please?" She hadn't pressed further but her expression was what got him in the end. He'd taken the fork from her and slowly brought it to his mouth. She laughed again, looking away from him when she pointed out, "I'm not trying to poison you, you know. Expand your palate. Tomorrow we're trying pumpkin cheesecake." It was such a small moment, a casual moment, domesticity if you will, and it was then that Steve realized they'd been having these types of moments for a while now. They made simple plans like these and he liked them. He never really had that with a woman. And he realized these plans had been going on for a while. He wanted to do what she wanted. He liked seeing her smile when it happened that he liked whatever she showed him. Little by little, that desire to see her smile would eventually expand. No longer would he just want to see her smile, he wanted to hold her hand whenever possible. He wanted to be close to her, and alone if possible. And for reason—some God lucky reason—it was easy to do.

For a moment in his life, he dared to believe that Seren was knowingly letting it happen. How else would they explain the one night they were alone for a celebratory dinner where they ended up far closer than any other moment in their lives? Their sudden first kiss, the slow touches that soon led them to forget all about being 'cautious'—Seren had wrapped her arms around him, practically begging him not to leave her there. He, hopelessly in love, was a goner. He held her tight and didn't let her go until the next day. But when the sun came up, things had changed and suddenly they were agreeing that it'd been a mistake. Just a mistake. A mistake.

Years later, the pain still rippled through Steve like it was a fresh wound. He met Seren's eyes, more serious than before, "I didn't forget, Seren. You did."

"I di—"

"You're the one who said it was a mistake. You were very quick to act like nothing ever happened."

Seren pursed her lips, her eyes darting to the side. That stung but it was fair, very fair. "I had to," she whispered.

"You 'had' to?"

"Yes, I had to—"

"What on Earth forced you to—"

"I had to!" Seren exclaimed, quieting him down for a moment. "Because-because I was working with the CIA and you went with Stark! You had your own missions and I didn't want to get in the way; I didn't want to distract you." She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his gaze even when she was sure that she was looking more like a mess as the seconds ticked by. "You had your plans set and I would never want to get in the way of them."

Plans. Steve knew exactly what those plans were. "I was trying to find Bucky..." Seren nodded. "But Seren, you wouldn't have 'distracted me'. It would've made a huge difference having you there with me."

"I'm sorry," Seren said. Her tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I'm really sorry. I wasted our time, I know, but I can't let you go again. Not for...for this injustice."

Steve remembered another reason why he loved her. She always stood by his side, even when he made some not-so-good decisions. He took a step closer to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I need to go and if you come with me, you're a fugitive too. You're still an Agent and the best one the CIA has. You like your job, you like the missions, I know you do. You have a family. Your parents, your grandmother, they would lose it if you came with me. And I know that you don't want to leave them behind. That's okay. I could never ask you to sacrifice everything for me."

He probably deserved a lot better than her. Seren raised her head to meet his gaze again. "I..." Would she be that imprudent, that unfair, to say she loved him? Her heart pinged with pain. She couldn't do that to him. He didn't deserve a confession like this—if he even cared for it anymore. He'd been under the assumption that she'd chosen to forget what happened, after all. Maybe it was too late.

Steve moved his hands to cup her face. His thumbs cleared the tears from her cheeks. "It's okay..."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, because you're going to go back home and you're going to keep being you. That's the best thing you can do for this world because after what we did to it...it'll desperately need your help." Seren laughed in the lightest of ways, but it was exactly what Steve wanted to hear. He loved it. "Who better to fix the world than Stardust, right?"

"I really want to cry and you're not letting me," she sniffed.

"Good!" He smiled. The urge to tell her everything he felt was big but he wouldn't be stupid enough to come out with that nonsense. She had way too much to deal with already. He loved her but...she didn't need to know. The chances of her feeling that much for him were slim, really slim. "I, um, I have to go."

Seren nodded. "I won't even bother asking if I'll see you soon..."

"It'd be too dangerous right now. You're the first person they'll go to when...when I do what I'll do." He already felt terrible for what would inevitably happen with her after he broke everyone else out of prison.

"Stay safe," Seren whispered, bringing her hands over his on her face. "Please. Natasha's going to keep you out of trouble but...she's not a miracle worker."

Steve chuckled. "I will do my best."

They spent a minute in silence just staring at each other. For a moment they both believed there was something that the other wanted to say to them. In the end, neither said a word.

"Bye, Seren," Steve lowered his head to leave a kiss on Seren's forehead. It was the only thing left for them now.

Seren felt a chill when Steve pulled his hands from her. She shouldn't have missed it as much as she did in that moment. "Bye..."

He said what he was capable of and now he had to leave. Steve took in a breath and walked around her without looking back. He didn't know what would happen if he looked back but it probably wouldn't bode well for his plans.

Seren stayed right where she was for several more minutes. She was trying her best not to lose it but her body was trembling. She'd wasted her time with Steve and now he was gone. God she was stupid.

"Agent Soul," she heard and immediately sought to put herself together before the King saw her. "Agent Soul, everything is ready for when you decide to leave."

Seren swallowed hard, pushing the tears away to put on a more suitable and appropriate face for conversation. "Yes, thank you so much."

"Of course," T'Challa said. He looked past Seren for a moment before speaking up, albeit quieter. "I thought you might want to have this."

Seren blinked when she saw him hold out a small device that resembled a watch. One of Shuri's inventions for sure. "What-what is that?"

"It's a communications device, an odd one but my sister Shuri assures me that it is better than your typical type of communications device."

"Why's that?"

"There is no audio to leave a record behind. It's more of an advanced computer. You type a message and it'll send it to the other pair."

"Other pair?"

T'Challa smiled. "I gave the other to Steve in case there was ever a situation where he might need to contact somebody."

Seren's eyebrows raised together. Many things were racing in her mind right now and 99% of them had to do with the possibilities she had her fingertips now. "Thank you," she eventually said. "I-I don't even know what to say..."

"I believe that is what this is for," T'Challa tapped a finger over the device, making her chuckle for the briefest of moments.

Yes it was but now Seren had to come up with what to say.

~ 0 ~

Steve had been right. The moment they got word of the "break in", Seren found herself at the center of questions and demands. Had she been anyone else she might have crumbled under the pressure, especially when a lot of her first days were spent in the company of Thaddeus Ross. "Company" was a loose term for nonstop interrogation.

"You know it would be a lot easier if you just told them what they want to hear," Tony was the usually the first one she spoke to after her interrogations. As it was, the doors to the compound were still very much open to her. But Seren was no fool to think it would be completely tension free. Moments like these were proof enough.

She walked up to Tony with a bit of a sway in her steps. "Oh, I did say some words alright. Just no the ones they were hoping for."

"You know you can't hide Rogers forever, right?"

"I'm not hiding him anywhere—to hide him, I'd have to know where he is."

Tony raised an eyebrow at her. "You really don't know where he is?"

"You can give me all the lie detectors you want," Seren reminded him. She'd told him that the first moment he insinuated she would know where Steve and the others ran to. "I don't know where he is but I do know where my room is...am I clear to go there right now?"

As hard as Tony wanted to be, he always cracked in the end. His problem wasn't with her, nor with the others with Steve for that matter. "Yeah, you're good Twinkle Star."

Seren pointed a finger at him, lips pursing at the terrible nickname she just couldn't get rid of. The tiny smile on Tony's face didn't help either. She dropped her hand to her side and headed for her room. She locked the door behind her and threw her purse on the bed, or so she thought. She heard her things fall out from the foot of her bed. With a sigh, she went to collect the stuff from the floor.

She soon came across the communication device T'Challa had given her. To say she'd forgotten all about it would be a complete lie. She held it gingerly in her hands, unsure whether or not to put it away just like her other things. Despite the heavy interrogations she'd been put under, most of Seren's thoughts were of what to say if she decided to use the device. She wasn't even sure if Steve knew she had the other piece—T'Challa hadn't exactly been clear about that. Would he know it was her?

Of course, if you know the right thing to say! If she said something only they knew about, he would know it was her. Would he...respond? That, she wasn't sure and she was very afraid the answer would be 'no'. They'd left important things unsaid but the more Seren thought about what she had wanted to say, the more fear she felt. She knew exactly what she had wanted to say to him in their last moment but fear won out and she kept silent. Now it killed her that she'd kept silent.

Maybe that's what you should say, stupid! Seren shook her head as soon as that thought crossed her mind. No, she couldn't just write that to him like it was a simple sentence. A confession like that deserved to be in person and that was definitely not happening anytime soon.

But still...

What if by the time they were able to see each other—if they were ever able to see each other—the feeling was gone. Or worse, Steve didn't believe her. Seren slowly sat on the foot of her bed. She looked down at the device in her hands. Do something before it kills you! She gripped the device. You're clever, you always know what to say so say something! Anything that says it without saying it. Seren glanced at her bed stand where a small book still rested just as she left it. The poem book that Steve had given her for one of her birthdays. It'd been a mix of delightful poems that included a few sweet ones she once had courage to read with him.

An idea popped into her head.

Whether it was a good one or not, she'd rather not think about it lest she want to lose courage. She crawled over the bed until she was able to take the book into her hands. She flipped through the pages, stopping on one of her favorite poems. Doitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoit! Before he knew it, she was writing it out on the device.

You dream with a love,

Pure, unconditional, strong,

Eternal like the sun

One that you draw a passion with

Seren held her breath for an ungodly amount of time after sending it. Steve would recognize her poem and he would either respond with the answer she hoped for or at the very least with an answer kindly rejecting her. But when? She would have to agonize for God knew how long.

~ 0 ~

In the first minute he saw the message, Steve was frozen. He had to have been reading it wrong. Or...or the wires in the device were wrong. He recognized the lines immediately. How could he not, he had bought the poem book after all. He'd picked it up for Seren's birthday last year. She'd gone over every poem with him and this one had been one of her favorites. He loved it too but for obvious reasons.

That's when he wondered if it was the same reason that Seren liked the poem.

Their last meeting certainly implied she felt something for him. Now here was this poem, this beautiful poem that spoke nothing but sweet passion and love.

It had to be Seren and no one else sending him this. He would have to believe that somehow the other device T'Challa talked about hadn't been left in Wakanda like he had assumed. It was with Seren. She could message him whenever she wanted to and that definitely raised his spirits. Being on the run—being a fugitive of the law—could somehow be better if he didn't have to lose everything.

So then answer her! If he didn't answer, Seren would take it as if he didn't want to speak with her anymore and that was far from the truth. But what would he say? She said plenty already. How are you afraid to respond? It was true. If he was being optimistic, and perhaps he was, he could take this message as an admission without it actually being an admission. He could do the same.

They would dance over the words they weren't able to say to each other the last time they were together. But at least he would be doing something to show her that he was still there, that like her there was something he felt too...even though he knew exactly what that feeling was.

So, later on when he gathered enough courage to respond, he sent her a message with the same meaning but just as much of a cautious dance.

~ 0 ~

It was late at night when Seren saw her device blinking a light red. She would've missed it if she actually slept but as of late, she was very bad at sleeping. She shifted on her bed to reach for the device on the nightstand. She held it for a few minutes before deciding to be brave and see the message.

You dream with a love,

Clear, with devotion

Free, growing wings to the heart,

To fly where passion nestles

Seren actually felt her heart stop for a moment. She reread the stanzas at least twice before deciding it was actually there. Her lips pulled into a smile, perhaps one of the biggest ones she'd ever had on her face. She held the device close to her and stayed just like that for God knew how long. He had answered her with that. Of all the things he could've said, whether it'd be something polite or rejection, he said that. Those stanzas meant something—they were part of the same poem she'd sent him.

Could it be that he was trying to tell her the same thing she had in the first message?

What else could it be, idiot!? She had to stop over-analyzing this. Steve could've sent her anything and he chose that precise poem. He chose to keep her game going. What else could that mean? But, her brain being cruel, she had to try one more time before letting herself believe it was happening. Her fingers tapped the screen for its keyboard.

Passion is like a restless wind that is converted to freedom

It is knowing that there's someone else who lives wishing to meet you

Seren held her breath when the message sent. As much alien as she was (and she was), she was also human. She had fear and she had doubt just like anyone else. Lucky for her, Steve knew that about her very well. He wasn't surprised she didn't believe him. She never realized that he loved her for years now. Her name meant 'star' and to Steve, that's what she was: a star that illuminated his grim life. She gave him back the light that he never thought he would have after waking up out of the 40s.

It is traveling without fear among the stars and the immensity

It is going through fire, walking on waters, converting a dream to reality.

That should seal the deal.

Indeed it did. When Seren received his next message, she couldn't stop the butterflies erupting in her stomach. It wasn't an admission, it was the cautious dance that she was more than willing to do. It's all they had now.

Passion is an enormous force that moves the whole of creation,

It is knowing there's someone waiting for you beyond where the sun hides

Steve's smile could've matched hers when he first opened the message. For a split moment, he wasn't hiding. His fingers worked faster than ever to respond. If he was lucky, Seren might still be awake for the next one.

It is two souls that unite,

Continuing into to Eternity

Why wouldn't Seren be awake? They had to finish the poem. And she had the honor of giving him the last line.

You'll never miss someone in whom you trust,

They're an angel who takes you by the hand,

Revealing a world of passion

After that, Seren found it easier to sleep through the nights. Not all was lost.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Author's Note:

I'm definitely going to try and add a second piece here because I have some ideas...I just don't know whether to finish it on a happy note or a not-so-happy note...suggestions are always welcomed :)

Full disclaimer that this poem is not a poem but a Spanish song I that love to bits and pieces. I got the translation online and tweaked/omitted some words to fit the story!

[black-streak]

Waiting For The Worms - The Show Must Go On

Part 4

Sooo, this isn't nearly as dark and has very little angst in comparison to the point I'd almost say it isn't? It's pretty much just an update on life in a way. Which is also part of why it took so long for me to write. Like, the struggle was real. Next chapter will go back to your regularly scheduled heartbreak.

Warnings from chapter 1, while mostly inapplicable for this part, still in effect.

The gallery: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

The next year of Jason's life was hectic to say the least.

It started with the downfall of Lila Rossi. Which consequently, he had no part in. She stepped on the wrong toes, made a few too many contradictions and suddenly a pile of lawsuits were stacked against her. Her mother went completely ape shit on her and pulled her out immediately to be shipped off to a very strict boarding school. More like a juvenile detention center if the rumors were true.

For the first month, no one approached him. The guilty, stricken looks upon his classmates' faces told a million stories of apologetic remorse, but since becoming a jaded, snarky outcast, 'Marinette' was no longer the person you could give a simple apology to and expect forgiveness. And no one wanted to be the first to get shot down.

Eventually, the first apology came. Surprisingly, Alya tried to win his favor. She groveled and apologized up and down on how terrible she and Lila had been and named every reason in the book as to why she had reacted and treated Marinette the way she did in an attempt to explain herself. While it wasn't necessarily surprising that she would be the first to not fear him, it was shocking she saw the error of her ways so soon with all that bull headed ego she carried around.

Bravery got her nowhere, however, as Jason only lifted an eyebrow, arms crossed as he leaned back, and calmly replied.

"Cool story, still betrayal."

As the girl sputtered before him, he turned back towards Chloe, continuing to make their plans for the day. After two minutes had passed and Alya still stood there hunting for her words, he turned back.

"Can you leave? Sometime today would be nice."

And so the precedent was set. While it took another week for someone else to approach, they seemed spurred on by the ease of Alya's dismissal. Suppose they figured if the biggest offender only got mild verbal abuse and dismissal, things had to go more smoothly for them.

Nino came next, awkward shuffling and avoided eye contact included. He pushed through his apology, beating around the bush and trying to defuse the situation at the same time he built it up. It only served to piss Jason off. They deserve better than this. At least meet her eyes if you're going to apologize and expect me to believe it.

"Uh… Marinette? Did you hear me?"

"I'm sorry, were you talking to me? I assumed you were talking to the desk next to me and minded my business. Would hate to be accused of eavesdropping."

He flinched at the reminder and finally looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry. What we did was wrong. What I did was wrong and I am so beyond sorry for it. There is no excuse for my behavior."

"You're right. There isn't. Do better in the future."

"I will!," he rushed to reassure Jason, voice hopeful, "Does this mean we can be friends again?"

"No. Do better for those who chose to be your friend in the future."

"Oh… okay, yeah, that's fair," Nino gave a downtrodden look and wandered off.

Next came Sabrina and Rose, who didn't so much as apologize to him, but instead tried to reattach themselves to Chloe and Juleka's sides as if nothing had happened at all. This might not have thrown Chloe in the slightest, but poor Juleka looked a moment from having an anxiety attack. Chloe made short work of both girls, dismissing them entirely and when Rose started to cry and stare at Juleka for reassurance that everything was okay, Jason pulled the goth into a hug, glaring at the little blonde girl, until eventually she received the hint and ran off, tears streaming down her face. Apparently Nathaniel gave Marc the same treatment.

Lastly Kim, Alix, Max, Ivan, and Mylene came as a group. They must've taken comfort in their numbers, hoping it would somehow protect them from him singling them out. Thought everything would go smoother that way. He could hear Juleka grumbling at his side where they sat under a tree for lunch. They both appreciated the shade and quiet peace of the place. Marc sat on her other side, writing away in a journal.

"Hey Mari, we wanted to apologize for the way we've been acting lately," Alix took the lead.

"Yeah, it was really uncool of us," Kim followed up, the others nodding along.

They looked imploring. Like they were waiting for some sort of forgiveness. He couldn't help but wonder if they thought their actions were somehow better. That he couldn't really be mad at them because they weren't the ones who lied or lead the pack against his soulmate. They didn't make harsh accusations or physically attack Marinette. So somehow, they were better and their apologies could be less.

How fucking rude. How presumptuous. How entitled to think his time, thoughts, feelings were forfeit in their need for forgiveness. Marinette deserved better in her time here than these heartless bastards. None of them ever defended her either. Or him for that matter. Not one of them tried to so much as change the subject to avoid harping on him. None cared when his soulmate never returned to her body. Maybe that wasn't fair, but at the very least they could've approached him in his grief when it was easily displayed. Everyone here had a soulmate and knew the signs of loss for when one died. Surely they knew that this person in this body lost their other half. And yet not a soul outside of his group had offered condolences.

"That's all you have to offer? That it wasn't cool?" Juleka asked, tone quiet but sharp.

"Well it's not like we-"

"Let me cut you off there, before you piss me off. You didn't personally attack me, you just watched and snickered behind hands. Joined in to the cruel jokes and snide remarks. Encouraged those who did attack. At least they had the decency to be that way to my face and let me know where we stood. You? Hiding behind others actions and grouping up to give half-hearted sorrys that you barely think of before you speak? Now you guys are the ones that truly infuriate me. Either you believed I deserved the treatment I received but refused to be singled out for it. Or you thought what was happening was wrong and were too much of a coward to step up and help me out. I'm not sure which is worse. Either way, I don't want to see a single one of you approach me again. I don't mean enough to you to make a stand? Then you don't mean enough to me to even speak to. Get out of my face."

When his little speech was done and the startled masses ran off with an added glare, protests held on the tip of tongues, Jason slumped back against the tree, taking small comforts in the silent support of his two companions.

Adrien never approached. That was for the best.

His friend group was also something new. Marc, Juleka, Chloe, and Kagami. The group technically leaned more female than anything, but after the heavy masculine energy of his old life, this turn of events felt refreshing. It helped that Marc came out as nonbinary and Jason couldn't help but relate in a way with his view of this body fitting as female, but his mind staying firmly male. Altering his soulmate's body to fit would never happen, but it also didn't match him. 

The group only grew stronger and more resilient after Jason agreed to revealing identities in the team. After the loss of Mari and the stripping of the ring from Adrien, Jason found it necessary to place new permanent holders. With Kagami and Chloe having screwed up their original hero personas, the placement became a challenge. 

He started out with figuring out his new cat. 

Talking it over with Fu and dragging the decision out way longer than it needed to, he eventually convinced the old guardian of Kagami's worth. She took to Plagg with ease, the design of her look altering to match. The suit stayed all black but wasn't leather and had gold detailing. The ears and tail looked more realistic as well. Her hair went pitch black and eyes went to shades of gold. Kagami insisted her new name be Serval.

Next came Chloe who ended up comforting Jason the most through his despair, whether she knew the reason for it or not. Without the bee as an easy go to, he ended up giving her the Dragon. Sure, the mix wasn't the best ever, but it kept her on the offensive side and more active, so it worked the way they needed it to. Her outfit consisted of tight fitted scales in shades of black and blue. Unlike when Kagami used the dragon, her and Longg took more to the shades of blue that came with most weather. Her shock of blonde hair played nicely with the idea of lightening on a stormy day. She went with Nimbus.

Surprisingly, Marc became the next holder. Jason planned on handing off the fox to Juleka, only to realize it wouldn't quite suit the girl. She stayed in the shadows most of the time, yes, but not really by choice. She wanted to be a model and show up in photos more than anything, so it made no sense to stick her with another identity she had to hide in. Add on the fact that she wasn't necessarily the most creative and well, Jason couldn't hand off an illusion piece to her. That's when Marc came into play. The kid had creativity in spades and preferred to avoid the spotlight. Marc and Marinette grew closer with all their time spent in the art room and courtyard together and especially with Nathaniel having ditched them. With Marc starting to build a spot of their own within the group, it only made sense to pair them with the Fox.

Now that he thought about it, the whole team really stuck with black. Marc had a black velvety almost shapeless form, with white tail, ears, sash, gloves, and boots. Their eyes fell white on gray on black and gave off an eerie feel. They choose Jocular for their hero name.

Finally, Jason hunted down the perfect miraculous for Juleka. The mouse. Quiet and unseen, playing in the background until the moment was right. And then she was everywhere, a multitude taking over the scene and overwhelming the enemy in a matter of moments. Perfect for the girl who hid behind her bangs but longed for the spotlight. Mullo played to both halves of her personality. The suit that came with consisted of a deep vivid purple that matched her bangs while detransformed. While in costume, the highlights disappeared and her eyes shined purple as well. The fit was reminiscent of a belted, hooded tunic with black leggings and matching purple booties. She went with Fievel. Turns out Juleka had an interesting favorite childhood movie. Months later, they would find themselves sitting around a tv, watching the old animated musical, but in the beginning, they just took it in stride.

The last major change came in a heavier bond forming amongst his team.

When Jason agreed to reveal identities, if for no other reason than the guilt of already keeping one major secret from the group, things spiced up. For one, Juleka and Marc traded their respective miraculouses back and forth depending on their comfort level for the day. If one felt more ready for the spotlight, they took to the mouse for the battle. If one felt especially creative at the moment, they tagged in for the fox. Of course, they jumped in with whichever they had when an akuma hit while separated, but the switch off seemed to comfort them.

Secondly, Chloe started running more interference to allow them escape time if stuck up in civilian form. Her false bratty attitude and daddy issues came into play here, despite her actual maturity about both. It helped to amp it up from time to time.

Lastly, Kagami and Jason begin to switch on occasion.

Plagg hadn't been outside the ring since Jason removed him from Adrien and Kagami received him. The shock and horror on his face when Tikki told him the reality of their situation broke Jason a little more. The cat insisted on spending more time with Jason after that. His soul resonated better with the ring anyways, so the time spent as the cat holder felt soothing after so long as the ladybug, despite this body feeling more receptive towards Tikki's magic. 

As an added bonus, the two kept the other's costume and attributes such as eyes and hair. Between that and the heavy magical glamour hiding their identities, no one, not even Hawkmoth, knew which one was which until their fighting style came into play at which point, it was too late. Luckily, with the sneaky aspects of the mouse and fox, the other two became quite the ambush as well. Add in Chloe showing up with one of three different powers at any given moment, and Hawkmoth's akumas became easy prey.

By the time the year ran out, their team ran as a well oiled machine. Despite the horrific heartbreak festering in his heart, Jason felt hopeful. Hopeful that they might take down the villain that had taken over his soulmate's life from so young. That this battle at least might end on a happy note. That soon he would be free to seek out justice for Marinette once and for all.

[kuramirocket]

Sandwiched between private properties in Southeast Austin sits a little-known cemetery off Hoeke Lane, just west of U.S. 183. From the outside, there’s nothing that indicates the site is the final resting place for a number of Mexican and Mexican-American residents who died decades ago.

It’s a wilderness. The headstones, many of which date back to the 1940s, are easy to miss. The weeds are overgrown, and trees and shrubs cover much of the 4.5-acre plot.

The cemetery has been called a couple different names over the years — the Montopolis Cemetery and San José II. But no sign will tell you that. In fact, there’s scarce information available about the cemetery’s history at all.

But members of the community and a team of researchers are trying to change that. They want to trace back its history and ensure the cemetery, along with its sister site in nearby Montopolis, is preserved.

Diana Hernandez is the lead researcher for (Re)claiming Memories, a research group out of UT Austin that seeks to restore and preserve missing histories in communities of color. She and her team have been collecting death certificates and reaching out to descendants of those buried at the cemeteries to help piece together the history.

“Once we start to research the people that are buried here and start to find archival documentation for each person, we start to see the community come to life through the cemetery,” she said.

The History

To understand San José II, Hernandez says, we have to start about 2 miles north at San José I. This historic Mexican and Mexican-American cemetery was built around 1919. It sits between two churches off Montopolis Drive, though neither of them own it. The site is believed to be unclaimed, or orphaned, meaning no one is responsible for its upkeep in any official capacity. But neighbors and community members have taken care of it as best they can over the years, mowing the lawn, pulling weeds and cleaning off gravestones.

A metal archway stands at the entrance and reads “San Jose Cementerio.” The cemetery was founded by a mutual aid society called the Union Fraternal Mexicana, and it served the migrant sharecropping community. This was during segregation.

“Mexicans weren’t necessarily allowed to be buried in white cemeteries,” Hernandez said. “In some cases I've seen where there's a white cemetery, and then right next to it is the Mexican section … In this case, it was just a completely different cemetery."

When Cementerio San José started to get full, the second one was created in 1949 in Del Valle. Over the years, the cemeteries changed hands. The original San José hasn’t had a known owner for several decades. San José II has an owner, but she’s believed to be in poor health and unable to maintain it, according to Hernandez. KUT reached out to the owner for this story, but did not hear back.

Based on their research so far, Hernandez and her team estimate San José I and II have more than 350 burials combined. But understanding how many burials are at each individual site is a challenge. That’s partly because on death certificates, the name Montopolis Cemetery was often used interchangeably for San José I and II. And not every burial has a gravestone.

Many people buried at the cemeteries died during concurrent epidemics, like influenza, tuberculosis and pneumonia.

“They were getting so many bodies that they were burying people in layers on top of each other, and they stopped documenting who all was getting buried,” she said. “Because there's no documentation for the number of layers for the people that were being buried in these mass graves, we're just never going to know. There's going to be layers of people that we're never going to be able to identify.”

Hernandez began researching the San José cemeteries at the end of 2019, just before the area was hit with another outbreak of a deadly disease — COVID-19. And again, this predominantly Latino neighborhood was hit harder than others.

“These histories repeat themselves,” Hernandez said. “I think that’s one of the reasons why this work is important, because it kind of sheds light on these pasts that weren’t acknowledged the way they should have been. We can use this knowledge to improve our present.”

The Descendants

Frank Monreal remembers the days when Montopolis Drive was just a dirt road. He and the other neighborhood kids, some 50 years ago, would play on the giant oak tree that stands in the middle of Cementerio San José. Instead of bicycles, he and his friends had horses.

“Everybody rode horses back then,” he said one day while at San José I. “We used to come out here, and they were our lawn mowers. They let them eat the grass and keep the grass low here.”

Monreal has relatives buried at San José I and II. From an early age, he understood death was a natural part of life. He often helped out with funerals. He remembers one burial happening at Cementerio San José when he was a kid. But it��s been a long time since anyone was buried there, he says. Most gravesites appear to date back to the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s.

There were more gravestones back then, he says, but some have weathered or broken over time. He used to walk through the cemetery on his way to school. He’d often see people putting flowers on graves, something he doesn’t see much anymore. Now, many relatives have died or left.

“That’s inevitable, you know, because generations change,” he said. “People move away.”

Preserving the cemetery, though, is important, he says, especially as gentrification has altered the landscape of Montopolis over the years.

“[The cemetery] is sacred ground to us, from our ancestors,” he said. “I don’t want to see it gone.”

Micaela Johnson, a 19-year-old artist and activist, can trace part of her family tree back to the Cementerio San José. She’s a member of the Limón family, one of Austin’s founding families whose descendants now number upwards of 3,500.

Many of her family members grew up and had businesses in Montopolis, like the Limón Bakery. She said her grandparents probably have connections to at least a quarter of the people buried at San José.

In her family, passing down stories from generation to generation is a common tradition. She remembers hearing stories about Aurora, her grandfather’s sister, who died in 1940 of pneumonia when she was 11 months old. She was buried at Cementerio San José, and her gravestone was decorated with marbles. But Johnson hasn’t been able to locate it.

She also remembers stories of Concepcion Trevino Garcia, her great-great-grandmother who died in 1939 from tuberculosis and was buried at San José. She left behind her husband and five young daughters.

“She was one of the strongest women that I have ever heard my family talk about,” Johnson said. “She was very driven and very loving.”

Garcia's grandchildren still visit the cemetery on Mother’s Day and leave flowers, Johnson said. Her family’s connection to the cemetery has inspired Johnson to get involved with (Re)claiming Memories and help ensure the San José cemeteries are well kept.

“It’s not just a place where people are buried,” she said. “It’s the life and the heart of a lot of our ancestry.”

One of the more recent headstones at Cementerio San José belongs to Augustina Rosales, who was at one time believed to be Austin’s oldest living resident. She died in 1994 at age 116. Near the back of the cemetery, she’s buried next to her husband Marcos, who died in 1951.

Rosales had 13 children and raised several others who were relatives or orphaned as if they were her own. She liked to dance to conjunto music and cook for her family, according to an Austin American-Statesman article about her death. Rosa Moncada, Rosales's great-granddaughter, says “she was awesome.”

Maintaining The Cemeteries

Moncada has several other relatives buried at San José, including grandparents and two older sisters who were born premature and died. Growing up in East Austin, Moncada would go with her mother and siblings to visit the cemetery. But they went less frequently over time, in part because the grass was often so high they couldn’t easily walk through it.

When they heard about the work Hernandez and her team are doing to help maintain the cemetery, Moncada and her sister Juanita Moncada Bayer started visiting again. And now they’re trying to keep it maintained, bringing relatives together to mow the lawn and clear out dead tree branches.

But maintaining the cemetery consistently isn’t an easy task. San José I is 2.5 acres.

“We thought, well, let's do what we can,” Bayer said. “But unfortunately, our mind tells us we can do it. But our bodies — like, that's hard work.”

(Re)claiming Memories and members of the community hosted a cleanup for San José earlier this year and hope to host more. They have been reaching out to city and county leaders, asking them to allocate more resources to the cemeteries' maintenance.

The more challenging endeavor will be cleaning up San José II. The site is difficult to access, making it hard for people to visit and maintain it.

Monreal remembers going to San José II as a kid to visit his grandfather’s grave with his dad. Back then, San José II had a proper entrance and was easier to get to.

Now, a locked chain-link fence blocks the main path that leads to the cemetery. Several sources told KUT the fence was put up by the property owner next door, perhaps to keep people from trespassing. KUT reached out to the law office that owns the property and was told it didn’t have anything to do with the gate. Hernandez and the research group are trying to get to the bottom of the issue and hope to create a proper entrance, so descendants can visit.

The area has long had problems with people dumping trash and gravel. A mound of dirt and debris now presses against fencing on one side of the cemetery.

And warehouses are being built on the southeastern side. This worries Hernandez because the cemetery hasn’t been surveyed; some burials could be outside the perimeter and could be disturbed. Community members have expressed concern that debris from construction is impacting the cemetery.

When KUT reached out to the construction manager for the company that’s developing the site, he was surprised to learn there was a cemetery next door. (“That is a jungle,” Brent Ramirez said.)

The cemetery itself is zoned for warehouse and limited office use, which some are concerned could make it vulnerable to development. (Re)claiming Memories is working with Council Member Vanessa Fuentes to get the proper zoning for it and a historical designation. Fuentes toured the cemetery earlier this year.

“It’s sad to see because it looks as if it’s been neglected and dismissed, especially with the development that’s right next to it,” she said. “Those are families and families’ history and legacies and relatives that are buried there. Those are stories that need to be told.”

Currently, pink marking flags stick up in various spots within the shrubbery of San José II. That’s the work of Joaquin Rodriguez, an Austin resident who has been going out to the cemetery to remove litter and clean off and mark gravestones that have been covered up over time.

He first learned about the cemetery late last year while researching his ancestry. Rodriguez, who was adopted, had taken a DNA test and learned he had relatives buried at cemeteries throughout Austin, including San José I and II. After seeing how neglected San José II was, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

The (Re)claiming Memories team wants to eventually create a digital map or database where people can upload information about the people buried at the cemeteries. Hernandez hopes this crowdsourced online resource will help bring the stories of the deceased together and shed light on the history of the Mexican and Mexican-American community in Montopolis.

The team is also putting together an exhibit on the cemeteries for the Mexic-Arte Museum in September. Johnson plans to perform a poem called “We Are Lost History” and sell shirts she designed, the proceeds from which will support the cemeteries' upkeep.

Johnson said she recognizes that Austinites who are not directly connected to the cemeteries may not see a reason to care about them, but she thinks they should.

“They might just see it as another gravesite or another old ancient Mexican burial ground, and they might [think] it doesn’t matter because it’s not a part of them,” Johnson said. “But it is a part of them. It’s a part of the history of Austin.”

And as development continues to alter the look and population of the Montopolis neighborhood, she says, it’s urgent to keep conversations about the cemeteries going.

“If we’re not actively trying to be like, ‘Hey, this matters,’” she said, “it’ll get washed away.”

[whumptopia]

Superhero Interrogated

my hero academia oc whump commissioned by @everythingbaku

content warnings: torture, drugging, captivity, blood, very brief emeto mention

—

Waking is slow. Ren—bouncy, energetic, excitable Ren—is normally the first one up, rising with the sun while his husband grumbles about needing more sleep. Now, though, he feels sluggish and discombobulated, his eyelids impossibly heavy. Either he’s hungover from partying hard at a rager (unlikely, getting blackout drunk isn’t really his scene), or… something’s wrong with him.

Groaning, he cracks his eyes open. His vision is blurry, and the world is cast in black and white. Wincing, he turns his cheek away from the too-bright light, squinting at his surroundings. His tongue is dry, and he feels… off. It takes a moment for him to process the sensation, but when he does, his heart spikes.

He’s been drugged.

His awareness is quickly returning, and he realizes he’s not lying in his bed. No, he’s sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the wooden arms, his ankles tied to the legs. His neck aches from his head being tipped back for however long he was out. When he lifts his head, the room spins and makes him woozy. He slams his eyes shut and takes several deep breaths until the feeling passes. When he no longer feels faint, he opens his eyes again to assess his situation.

Ren has been kidnapped. That much is obvious. He’s wearing his civilian clothes, so maybe whoever captured him doesn’t know he’s a hero. He’s a shapeshifter, so stealth is his trademark, but his inability to alter the color of his eyes (violet) and his hair (steel blue) sometimes makes him easy to detect. He’s been wearing colored contacts and a baseball cap to compensate, but… hopefully his cover hasn’t been blown.

He looks around the small concrete room, empty except for the chair he’s tied to and the led-lights shining overhead. He’s facing the door. It’s made out of heavy metal and doesn’t have a handle. The room he’s trapped in is more of a cell, really, and definitely not some amatuer goon’s basement.

“Shit,” Ren whispers to himself. He’s really gotten himself into trouble this time. 

He perks up at the sound of footsteps, much more alert now. Someone’s just outside the door—multiple people, if his hearing is right. There’s the sound of multiple bolts being unlatched, and then the door swings open.

Three large, burly men shuffle into the cell, all of them wearing masks, effectively concealing their identities. They’re decked out in protective gear, and Ren notes the weapons strapped to their belts. They must be professionals. Ren swallows. 

“Oh, good, you’re up,” one of them says, “Thought you might’ve overdosed. Hard to figure out how much to give you since you’re so tiny.”

Ren doesn’t validate the remark with a reply. Yeah, they’re not wrong. He’s not even five feet tall, and it sucks, but he can’t exactly help it, can he?

The cell is quiet for a minute or so. They seem to be waiting for him to speak, but he isn’t going to risk revealing anything incriminating. Finally, the goon who entered the room first, the tallest of them all, crosses his arms, taking a step toward him. 

“Nekozawa,” he says slowly, and Ren stiffens. So they do know who he is. He changed his surname to Bakugou after he got married, but he and Katsuki have kept their relationship under wraps to avoid public outcry. Nekozawa is his father’s name and the name everyone knows him by.

He blows a strand of long blue hair out of his eyes. So much for undercover.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he replies snippily, tugging on his wrists to test his restraints. No give. It doesn’t look like he’s gonna be escaping anytime soon.

“You know who we are.” The man moves closer, lifting one booted foot and planting it on the space between his legs—not on his crotch but on the seat of the chair. Close enough to be intimidating (and probably a shitty political statement), but Ren isn’t easily cowed.

Sure, he can be gentle, caring, and loving. He has a soft spot for sweets and pastel t-shirts. His husband sometimes likens him to a kitten, simultaneously teasing and flirting with him. All of these things are true, but he’s still a superhero. He’s a badass, and he’s going to make sure these guys know it.

“Can’t say I do.” He shrugs in disinterest. “I don’t think I’d want to know you, anyway. You guys apparently don’t know a thing about hospitality.”

The man’s lip curls in distaste. “You have infiltrated our organization and have been collecting intel for months. You know more than we can allow.”

“When you say ‘we,’ you mean your bosses, right? If they’re so concerned, why don’t they come talk to me themselves?” Ren suggests. He doubts he’ll get the chance to land his eyes on the higher-ups of the criminal organization he’s currently trying to take down, but he might as well give it a shot, right?

Before Ren can blink, the man’s fist collides with his face. His head is whipped to the side, and he sucks in a breath as his punched cheek throbs in pain.

“Our superiors don’t have time to deal with the likes of you,” the man hisses, kicking the chair back. Ren falls hard, knocking the base of his skull on the floor. Stars dance across his eyes, and he groans, his head pounding. Fuck.

He must lose track of time for a moment because the next time he can see properly, his chair has been picked back up and he’s facing the goons once more.

“What do you want?” Ren asks gruffly. He’s not going to give them anything, not in a million years, but it might do him some good to figure out their agenda. They’re all so… composed, despite their violence. They’re clearly used to dealing with prisoners. No tricking them into letting him go, then. 

“You’re going to tell us what you know,” the man who punched him demands, “and who you work for.”

Ren rolls his eyes, and the goon steps forward, fist clenched.

“I work for myself, thank you very much,” Ren quips, “Oh, and I’m not telling you shit.”

The hit comes, but he’s expecting it this time. Still, the blow to his already bruised cheek hurts twice as much as the first punch did. Stifling a noise of pain, he drops his chin to his chest. The coppery taste of blood quickly fills his mouth, and his tongue aches. He must’ve bit it.

A hand grabs a fistful of his long hair and yanks, forcing him to look up. The goon’s expression is unreadable, hidden behind his mask. “Will you cooperate or not?”

Ren grins, flashing his blood-stained teeth. “What do you think?”

The man lets go of his hair and steps away. Ren tips his head back, breathing heavily through his nose. He’s not as tough as he likes to pretend to be. Those closest to him know he’s a brave fighter who’s willing to die to protect his loved ones, and he has a public reputation as an advocate for civil rights. Still, he isn’t exactly eager to sacrifice himself or get hurt in any way. Living is pretty sweet—so is not being tortured, but it looks like it’s a little late for that now.

There’s an audible shuffle of heavy footsteps as the goons exit his cell, and the coor creaks as it swings shut. With a sigh of relief, Ren looks up—and he’s greeted by the sight of one lone man. Not everyone left the room, it seems. It’s the guy who didn’t speak earlier. He’s standing too close to Ren, his hands clasped behind his back.

Without a second of hesitation, Ren spits at him. The bloody projectile only makes it far enough to land on his shirt, unfortunately. Ren was aiming for his face. 

The man doesn’t flinch.

“Cute,” he drawls, not even glancing down to examine the stain. “But you don’t have to pretend anymore, Ren Nekozawa. It’s just you and me now.”

Ren arches an eyebrow. “What, are you supposed to be good cop or something?”

The man chuckles, a hint of smile curling his lips. “I’m not good cop.”

Unease washes over Ren like an uncomfortable sprinkle of rain, damp and chilling. He tries not to let it show. “Bad cop, then? You gonna hit me some more?”

The man looks up at the ceiling as if talking to himself. “My associate was simply the prelude. Most people break from just the threat of violence. We figured you’d be a little less forthcoming, so I tagged along. I guess you could say I’m the main course.”

Ren pulls on his bound arms reflexively, just a little, and laughs humorlessly. “You gonna tear off my fingernails?”

“Maybe,” the man muses, “but probably not. I doubt you’ll need that much coaxing. You’re not as defiant as you pretend to be.”

Insulted, Ren scowls. “You don’t know me.”

The man nods in concession and begins to circle him like a shark. Ren doesn’t follow his path of travel, simply continuing to glare straight ahead.

“It’s true we’ve never met, but I know people, and you’re easy to read.” He cards a hand through Ren’s hair and twirls a blue strand with his finger. “You’re compensating for your size and apparent vulnerability. It must be difficult, being such a weak hero.”

Ren twists his neck around, dislodging the man’s grip, and tries to bite at his fingers. His teeth clamp around empty air, but his attempt does get the man to back off. Much to his dismay, the guy doesn’t appear threatened in the slightest.

“You’re not even good at using your powers. You stick out like a sore thumb with your height, your hair, and those eyes,” he continues, standing directly in front of Ren now. He plucks a small, thin knife from his belt. “So vibrant. I could help you, y’know. Cut them out, and you’ll be much less identifiable.” He positions the point of the blade just above his pupil, so close that Ren doesn’t even dare to breathe.

“Then again, a boy with two missing eyes might be hard to miss.” With a flick of his wrist, the man cuts a shallow line right underneath his eye. Ren gasps, gritting his teeth. Blood streams down his cheek like a river of tears. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses, trying to maintain his bravado. His heart is jackrabbiting in his chest, and he’s gripping the arms of the chair with white knuckles. He won’t admit it, but he’s scared. He wishes Katsuki was here to protect him. So much for being a badass superhero.

The man hums, wiping the blood off the blade using the collar of Ren’s shirt. 

“There are two ways this can go,” he begins, retracting the knife and replacing it with a much larger one. Ren eyes the jagged blade warily. “You can drop the tough-guy façade and answer every question I ask you—”

“Fat fucking chance!” Ren interjects, snarling. The man raises one unimpressed brow. His mask only covers his eyes, leaving the rest of his face on display. Ren briefly wonders if his lack of concern for his identity is supposed to be an intimidation tactic. 

“Or,” the man continues, splaying one palm over Ren’s collarbones and pressing him flat against the chair’s back. With his other hand gripping the knife, he slashes down the front of Ren’s shirt, cutting open the fabric and the skin of his chest. Ren yelps. “I can make you talk.”

Panting, Ren looks down at the gash. Blood oozes from the wound, dripping down his sternum to his stomach. His insides churn at the sight. 

“So, Nekozawa,” he says amicably, as if he isn’t threatening to torture him, “What will it be?”

Ren squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The work he’s been doing for the past couple months is important. The criminal organization he’s been spying on is guilty of abhorrent crimes and needs to be brought to justice. He thinks of the victims, past, present, and future. He thinks of his fellow heroes, all of whom are undoubtedly braver than him. He thinks of Katsuki, the love of his life. Katsuki would never surrender.

Ren opens his eyes and shoots his interrogator a defiant grin. “I’m not talking. You can try and make me, but it won’t work.”

The man smiles, as if that’s the answer he wanted to hear. “We’ll see, Nekozawa. We’ll see.”

—

Four hours later, Ren cracks.

It’s the knife in his shoulder that finally does it. The man digs the blade past muscle, all the way to bone, and twists. Ren screams, tears flowing freely.

“Who do you work for, Ren?” the interrogator asks for the upteenth time, calm as ever.

“I, I told you, I work a—” Ren begins, but then the knife twists again, and he shrieks: “Ah, Deku! Deku!”

The blade stills. 

“I work, I don’t, I don’t report to anybody,” Ren continues, unbearably ashamed of himself for the name drop. He held out for hours only to break now. “We sometimes work together. He’s not my boss or anything.”

“Not good enough, Nekozawa,” the man sighs, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. Ren yells, his expression contorted in anguish. Yanking the blade out hurt almost as much as the initial stab.

Groaning, he slumps in his chair. His entire body is covered in cuts, some shallow and some deep. His pale skin is coated in sticky blood, and he emptied his stomach a while ago. Drenched in sweat, exhausted and dehydrated, Ren is pushed past his limits. He never thought he would surrender even the tiniest bit of information, but here he is, giving in like a coward. Fresh tears leak from his eyes.

The man sheaths his blade and takes Ren’s chin in hand. “Does Deku know of your current operation?”

Ren exhales shakily and lies: “No.”

Deku is an incredibly powerful superhero. He went to school with Ren’s husband, Katsuki, and they were rivals for some time. Deku is too well known for undercover work and is much more suited for direct attacks. He’s taken out several outposts after Ren gave him names and locations. They’re not working together directly, but they both know of the danger said criminal organization poses. 

The man’s nails dig into his cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” He digs the thumb of his free hand into a deep gash in his side, and Ren’s mouth falls open in a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back. “Who else is involved?”

Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth from his bit tongue. “M’not… telling.”

The interrogator releases his chin and wraps his broad hand around his throat, squeezing tightly. Ren’s eyes fly open, and he struggles to breathe.

“I’ve been very patient,” the man begins, “And I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, but, frankly, it’s nothing I didn’t already know. Maybe I need to be more persuasive.”

Ren shakes his head a fraction of an inch, gaping like a fish out of water. He isn’t sure how much he can endure. He needs a break before he says something stupid. Black spots dance across his vision, and his lungs burn. Time passes impossibly long, and wet, sputtering gasps escape his lips. Eventually, just when he thinks he’s gonna pass out, the man releases his neck. Ren coughs, gulping down air, his vision blinded by tears. He feels so weak and pathetic. What kind of hero allows themselves to be caught and tortured? He doesn’t know how he’ll live with himself after this. If there even is an after. He doesn’t see any chance of escape, and what if no one rescues him?

Ren clenches his fists and steadies his breathing. He can’t lose hope. Katsuki will come for him. If not Katsuki, someone else. He won’t be left here to die. He just needs to hold out and keep his mouth shut.

The man returns to his side with a syringe in hand. He cocks his head and looks down at him with a faux-sympathetic smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Here, I’ve got something that’ll help you take your mind off it—and hopefully loosen your tongue.”

“No, no,” Ren protests, squirming in his bonds. He tries to crane his neck away from the needle, but the man grabs his hair and holds him still. Ren whimpers as the drugs are injected into his system, falling limp almost instantly. Whatever the interrogator has given him works fast, and the room begins to swirl. 

“Better, right?”The man pats his cheek, patronizing. “Now, about the data you collected. Mind sharing some names with me?”

Nausea washes over him in waves, and he squints against the lights. The cell is suddenly way too bright, and he moans. A fog settles over him, and he has a hard time remaining focused on his goal.

“What… what?” he mumbles.

The interrogator hums, frowning. “Might’ve given you too much there. It’s hard to determine the correct dose. I’m not used to administering to persons of such short stature.”

Ren isn’t listening, his attention shifting. He’s in so much pain. He just wants to be home with his husband, safe in bed, wrapped in his arms. What he wouldn’t give to see Katsuki’s face right now. 

The room rocks, and the interrogator stumbles. At first, Ren thinks it’s the drugs screwing with his vision and playing tricks on him, but then it happens again.

“Explosions…?” the man whispers, brows furrowed in confusion. 

Ren barks a laugh. Explosions! He’d recognize the sound anywhere. Katsuki is here!

He smiles at the interrogator, eyes bright. “You’re so fucked.”