#personally i would also scream if they tried to dupe us again

[pharaohbean]

to everyone panicking over toya4 soon, wondering if we're gonna be duped (again):

hi! i love toya, he's just my little guy in pjsk. personal take on all of this: vbs' world link HEAVILY IMPLIES toya's event is next. in his chapter stories (not card), he talks with kaito about "that thing he's [kaito] helped him with" which if i remember correctly, was also explicitly stated to be his task (from ken). there might also be some substantial material in his card stories, but i haven't checked those. of course, correct me if i'm wrong, but i sincerely doubt the writers would leave us hanging like this

just my personal opinion from observations i've made :)

[lovely-maryj]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. kageyama, hq!!

synopsis: ❝ In a field of dandelions was when I first held you. ❞ pairing: kageyama tobio x reader warnings: one-time use of the word ‘bastard’, no third person pronouns used for mc, mc is called ‘shortie’ once word count: ~1.4k note: Hello! Hopefully, you guys enjoy this! This is just a one-shot I had to write for my English class last year. Of course, I changed the names up. No way am I gonna submit this unfiltered. It would've been so obvious if I kept the names just like this, lol. I checked and apparently, I wrote this on October 27 last year. I forgot I had this on my drive somewhere. This is also the first story I posted that I'm never going to delete. (I wrote a Harry Potter fanfic a few years ago on Wattpad, and it was doing quite well for my first story, but I got writer's block and was kind of exiting the fandom so I didn't have motivation for it. It's gone now, lol. 'Twas a shame. I gained quite a few followers from that.) Anyways, this is crossposted on my Quotev and Wattpad accounts, too. Click on the links to read it over there. I'll update this again if I ever decide to post it on Ao3. If it's on there or any other site without me updating this, that is plagiarism. If it ever happens, please inform me and I'll have a nice little chat with whoever posted my story :) The same goes for the poem I wrote. I’m still quite proud of it so don’t use it without my explicit permission. likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! ^^ Edit (8 Aug 2022, 12:35 PM, GMT+8): I have now posted this one-shot on AO3!

Just a few minutes ago, I found a small dandelion on a crack on a sidewalk—that I definitely did not almost trip on—and now I was just cradling it in my hands while I skipped home. Okay, maybe I wasn’t skipping. That's just childish and I am by no means a child.

... was that even the least bit believable?

Maybe this is why Kei always likes to make fun of me.

Not looking at where I was going—what a huge mistake that was—I accidentally bumped into a person that I definitely could've mistaken for a wall.

Grunting, I tried to steady myself but the person's hands were already on my shoulders.

"Oh~? No wonder I didn't see you. It’s you, shortie."

Ignoring the comment on my (admittedly) short stature, my eyes widened in surprise at the very familiar voice, and I quickly looked up and shrugged off the person's hands off my shoulders.

Great. Just great. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Kei!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He just raised an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” He sarcastically said. “I’m walking home.”

Now, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Uh ... don’t you live on the other side of town?”

A sheen of sweat dripped down from his forehead. “I—uh—Kageyama needed me for something.”

“Tobio needed you,” I said in disbelief while pointing at him.

A vein on his temple started bulging. He smacked my hand away and he said, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Simply because it’s Tobio and you? I didn’t want to get into another argument with him so I simply changed the subject. Arguments with him usually lasted for at least an hour and I’m too mentally tired to care.

“Whatever,” I said while crossing my arms. “What did he need you for?”

A smug grin suddenly appeared on his face. Oh, what I would pay to smack it off him—

“Why don’t you go home and find out? He’s waiting for you outside of your front door.” Not even waiting for me to reply, he went past me and started trekking his way home. Or maybe to Tadashi’s house. I never know with him.

Scoffing at his audacity to just walk away, I turned away from him to continue my way home. Of course, with the information that Tobio was waiting for me at my front doorstep, my pace quickened with the small dandelion still in my hand.

There is nobody here. Oh, my god—did Kei really just dupe me?! I screamed angrily inside my head.

Huffing angrily, I stomped towards my front door to get inside when I felt something crinkle under my shoes. Looking down, I saw a lavender envelope. Picking it up and turning it over, I saw ‘Open me~♡’ written on the back of it in Tobio’s cute handwriting. With my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, I opened the envelope and found two letters. One written on a plain piece of paper, and the other written in my favorite stationery. Tilting my head, I just decided to read the one on plain paper since it was the one on top.

“Hello, love. If you found this, that means that that bastard—” Okay, that’s got to be Kei. “—actually managed to get you home without you getting distracted.” I nodded my head at that. ‘Twas a valid concern. God knows how many times I got sidetracked and distracted whenever I was on my own. “In the other letter, I wrote a short ... something. Don’t make fun of me, please. With love, Tobio.”

A short something? Wondering what that something was, I hurriedly took out the other letter.

“In a field of dandelions was when I first held you In my arms, with feelings so true In that meadow with the sky so blue You had me wrapped around your finger while you had no clue

From the wide piece of land, I plucked a single dandelion into my hand I made a thousand wishes that day That you might somehow feel the same way.”

I stopped reading after that last line. My mouth was wide open for I was in extreme disbelief. I couldn’t believe that Tobio—my Tobio—would write something as sweet as that. He was usually the awkward one in the relationship and I was the one that initiates all the affection. Connecting with people was definitely not one of his strong suits, so seeing him put so much effort into writing a short, sweet poem definitely almost made my heart burst out of my chest. Smiling softly, I turned the paper around and found one last stanza.

“Find me in the first line and you’ll never regret That day you agreed to become mine, you had our destinies set So with hope in my heart, you’ll find your way To where it all began with that sweet smile on your face.”

I blinked slowly in confusion. ‘Find me in the first line?’ Did he mean the first line of the poem? Is he asking me to find him in a field of dandelions? But there are tons of them here. I tilted my head to the side. That day I agreed to become his … He asked me to be his lover after one of his volleyball games, though, so it couldn’t be that. ‘To where it all began.’ Did he mean when he confessed his feelings for me? 

My eyes widened in realization. If it was possible, a lit lightbulb definitely would’ve been seen over my head right now. Grinning madly, I hurried over to the garage to get my bicycle.

“Hopefully I didn’t make him wait too long.”

“What ... is all this?” I gestured to my surroundings.

Tobio smiled, albeit nervously, “A picnic.”

Tobio was sitting on a picnic blanket with a basket and a cooler next to him. With the gorgeous backdrop of the meadow behind him, the dandelions all around us, and the almost clear blue sky with cirrus clouds and the sun shining, I almost thought I never woke up that morning and was dreaming all of this up.

I laughed heartedly, “Yeah, I get that,” I sat next to him and stared into his dark blue eyes, “but what’s all this for?”

He blushed a bit and looked away, “Don’t you remember what day it is?”

I tensed. What?! I’m pretty sure our first anniversary still isn’t until next month! I freaked out internally.

“I—uh,” I stammered. What do I say?!

Tobio must’ve been amused at my stuttering because he smiled and chuckled softly. “It’s the day I confessed to you. Remember? ‘To where it all began?’”

I gasped and put my hand in front of my mouth in shock, “You’re right!”

Tobio threw his head back laughing, and I smacked him on the shoulder for that. “Don’t make fun of me, Tobio!” I whined.

He calmed down. “Oh, and here,” He turned around to get something from behind his back. When he turned back around, he gave me a bouquet.

“Oh, Tobio!” I gushed and blushed, “You shouldn’t have!” I smiled giddily and took the bouquet.

The bouquet included red roses, purple lilacs, and dandelions.

I didn’t know at the time but seeing me staring admirably at the bouquet he put together himself touched his heart.

“Aha! Which reminds me!” I reached into my jacket pocket and took out the small lonesome dandelion I plucked from a random crack on a sidewalk. “It’s not as grand as your bouquet, but I saw this earlier and I remembered how you told me you came to this exact same field before we confessed to each other.”

Not even looking at it, he took it from my hands while staring fondly at me. “Do you know why I came here?”

Pursing my lips in thought, I asked why.

“People say that when you make a crane origami a thousand times and make a wish, it’ll come true. When I first heard it, I found this field and thought that if it worked on folding cranes, it’ll probably work if I blow a thousand dandelions.” He took a rose from the bouquet and put it behind my ear.

“Well, did your wish come true?”

“Do you remember the poem I wrote?” He caressed my cheek. “If you do, you’ll know.”

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!! 

Words: 4.6k

A/N: So uh yeah, this was mainly inspired by hcs from @genshin-spice​!! thank you for the ideas sjkdha as well as the asks I have received! I decided to combine them into one fic bc im lazy i hope u like it jkasdha

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 

*

It was in the dead of the night.

Zhongli breathed in; eyes dilated.

His study was quiet—yet all he could hear was his heart beat pounding violently against his chest and the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

He couldn’t take it.

In Zhongli’s mind was an image of you in positions you have never been before. He could see you on the bed as he pins you down, ass high up as he gripped on your waist until bruises form. He could see sheathing himself completely into you, reeling at the erotic sounds which escaped your lips as he roughly thrusts in and out.

The grip of his hand tightened, moving up and down his enlarged shaft. Zhongli grunted as he felt his digits grind on a particularly sensitive spot. It would’ve been better if it was your mouth instead of his hands.

“YN….! Nghh…!”

Ignoring his locks thrown askew by his movements, Zhongli continued to see you in his mind’s eyes. Precious, beautiful; more than any stone or gem in the world. He’ll spread you out, pleasuring you and worshipping your body with his tongue. In every turn, he would leave his marks, proving that you were his and his only.

“Ahh…darling…I just…want to…!”

He growled, speeding up the movement of his wrist. He could feel himself grow even bigger as scales begin to form on his skin, as his nails turn sharper.

Zhongli wanted you. He wanted to pound into wildly until you keen and clamp around him; until you become a staggering mess of moans and drool. You will be quivering as your orgasm washes over you, yet he wouldn’t stop. This wasn’t the time to stop.

“Ughh….haa…! YN….! YN…! I’m close—!”

He’ll push even deeper, harder; making sure the tip of his cock reaches your womb. And that’s when he’ll release his warm seed into you, filling you up until his cum is dripping from your hole, until you were spent on the bed and still shaking from the intensity.

That’s not enough, Zhongli could sense something growl in him. Not enough.

You will be screaming with oversensitivity as he pushes inside you once more, his dick still hard as he keeps on going. You will be muttering his name ceaselessly as he fills you up, cumming inside you over and over again until you get pregnant with his child.

Yes.

The image of you on the bed, exhausted from his relentless pounding as cum leaks from your hole, surely pregnant with his child burned vividly inside his imagination. It sent an overwhelming surge of pleasure towards his cock; urging him to climax.

“Nnnh—!”

In one move, Zhongli orgasmed, his cum spurting to his stomach and clothes as he breathed in heavily. He tried to calm himself down yet the image of him cumming inside you was still so fresh that his excitement wouldn’t subside.

“…what is…this…?”

It seemed like his libido has peaked dramatically in the past few weeks. Normally, he could withstand not having any sexual activity for some time, especially when you were out of town, but for some reason, all he could think about right now was fucking you senseless.

He touched the scales on his arm. It also hasn’t escaped his notice how he would often show some of his draconic features in the midst of it all. There was only one thing that he could think of.

“Could it be…”

Wait. He hasn’t been in heat for more than a thousand years, and for it to appear right now is mind boggling to the say the least. But he could no longer see this at any other angle. It must have been triggered by your presence, in some way or another. The beast in him knew how he was madly in love with you, how he had taken you as his mate, and now it wants nothing but for you to bear him offspring.

Zhongli sighed. This is a matter that should be discussed first with you. Yet his heat is upon him and if it comes to it, he had to protect you even from himself. Zhongli sighed again heavily and gazed at the wedding ring on his left finger.  

“It seems the need arises to arrange necessary measures.

*

“Please explain to me, in some way or another,” you started. “…why I cannot see my own husband in my own house.”

With brows furrowed and arms on your hips, you glared at the offending ‘guards’ loitering around outside the bedroom as they looked at you with a panicked expressions. There were a few familiar faces like QiQi, who was busy staring at nothing and Xiangling, who simply came to visit to deliver freshly cooked dishes from Wanmin Restaurant.

“Dr. Baizhu!” you called out when you were only met with silence.

Giving you a worried look, the doctor tried to calm the situation but to no avail.

“Look, YN…” the doctor hesitated. “Mr. Zhongli is under…certain conditions which makes it dangerous for you to go anywhere near him.”

You blinked, mouth frowning as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. “And what would that be?”

Travelling around Teyvat for quite some time, you had only returned to Liyue and to your husband (of a year and a quarter) today; and to be denied access to somehow greet and touch the person you had missed so dearly only irked your frustration. You were determined that the first thing you do when you return was to run straight into his arms, kiss him hard and talk to him about an important matter in both your lives, but it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor.

“Well,” Dr. Baizhu struggled to reply, as he was under the implicit instruction not to reveal the exact details. “All I can say is that it’s a condition where Mr. Zhongli wouldn’t be able to act properly around you. But please don’t worry, it’s not contagious and it’ll be over in a week or so.”

If anything, the vagueness only alarmed you. What illness could possibly make him lose control like that? Zhongli, as you knew him, was always someone who regarded himself with propriety and dignity. If this condition can weaken him like that, you were all the more worried.

“I…If that’s the case, then I really need to see him,” you insisted, now concern etched into your eyes. “I can’t just leave him alone like this.”

Stand firm, Dr. Baizhu. My wife is especially stubborn—he had been warned a few days before, dismissing it as something a husband would normally say about his wife, but now that he was face to face with that stubbornness he had been warned with, it seemed like he had underestimate you.

“YN…I…” he breathed in as he placed a consoling hand on your shoulders. “I would not recommend seeing Mr. Zhongli at this point—”

“Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right?” you interrupted. “I just want to see him.”

The doctor gazed down at you with an apologetic look, fully understanding why you were desperate in your request. You haven’t seen him for quite some time, and to find him sick and unable to see him when you finally returned—he could understand. He really does. That’s why, in the end, the doctor relented. He’ll face the consequences later on.

“Alright,” Dr. Baizhu sighed. “Just a peek and nothing more, got it?”

Upon hearing his words, your face brightened up in a flash. “Thank you, doctor!”

As he led you to the door of the master’s bedroom, you followed silently behind; watching as Dr. Baizhu unlocked the door from the outside—why would they need to lock it anyway, you thought—and pushed the door slightly ajar.

You pursed your lips.

In a breath, you knocked the doctor aside and went in as quickly as you could; shutting the door behind you as he protested from the outside. Apologies, Dr. Baizhu…!

Swiftly recovering from the sudden action, you noticed that it was dark inside; the windows shut and heavy curtains blocking any stray sunshine. The only source of light was the single glowing lantern at the far end of the room which only illuminated half of your face and offered a simple silhouette of your husband sitting on the bed.

You breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Right. I don’t really have much time, and I already duped Dr. Baizhu, so I’ll make this quick. I just want you to know that I’m back, and while I do have something I want to talk about with you, I’ll wait till this gets sorted out. So if you need anything, I’m right here—”

You halted; ears trained at the low growl you just noticed.

“…Zhongli…?” you asked, apprehension rising as you took a step forward.

“Why are you here?”

He finally spoke, yet instead of the sweet deep hum of his voice, this one was a lot harsher.

“What…?”  you asked, surprised at his words. “I-I just wanted to see you…”

“You’re not allowed here,” Zhongli continued as he rose from the bed, his frame seemingly much taller that usual yet the darkness had hindered you from telling clearly. “It seems Dr. Baizhu has failed to stop you.”

Brows furrowed, you spoke with a waver in your voice. “Zhongli, what’s wrong…?”

In a bat of an eye, he was in front of you, pining you against the door with his lithe form. His clutches were firm but gentle enough not to hurt you as you felt him look closely at you. Daring your eyes to open, finally, finally, you could see him.

His usual warm amber orbs were now glowing golden, his pupils turned into slits. You could see scales on his skin and horns on his head as he grasped your wrists with his clawed hands. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t too surprised. Astonishment was an understatement of how you felt at that exact moment.

“Do you now see what is wrong?” he snarled at you, his eyes narrowing.

Taking in a gulp, you tried to calm yourself. This is still Zhongli, just different. You were used to the unusual things happening around him because of his status as an ex-archon, but this just takes the cake.

“Wha—why are you half….half dragon?!” you exclaimed.

He could feel him make a disgruntled noise as his grip on you tightened. “That is of no importance. You have to leave before I lose my sense of control.”

You glared at him, finally realizing that he was still the husband you knew; probably just a bit frustrated.

“No. Tell me exactly what’s happening Zhongli. It is my responsibility as your wife to take care of you, and I can’t possibly leave you like this without knowing the full extent of the problem.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue and closed his eyes, exasperated at your mulish behavior. Why can’t you just follow obediently? He was really weak against you; even more so at that exact moment.

You can’t hold his cheeks with your hands pinned but you at least tried to console the obvious turmoil inside of him. “I’m right here, love. It’s alright…you can tell me.”

In an instant, Zhongli conceded, melting at your presence as he nuzzled himself on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. He always loved your scent; amplified by his draconic instincts, it was even more intoxicating.

“As a dragon, I am in heat,” he whispered just below your ear as you felt him smirk. “Are you still willing to help me out?”

Heat…?!

You immediately flushed at the implication of his words. Sex was no stranger in your relationship even before you became husband and wife, but for some reason, at the suggestion of Zhongli being in heat, you became bashful like a giddy schoolgirl.

“I-I…! Of course!” you replied despite the tumble in your voice. “I’m your wife, it’s only natural that we satisfy each other’s…er…sexual needs…”

Zhongli made a low chuckle as he allowed his lips to graze your skin.

“Have you understood what being in heat truly entails?” he replied, unable to contain the intensity in his voice. “This is not simply an act of making love. I will fuck you. And I will fuck hard, YN. Do you understand?”

It was incredible how his mere words were enough to make your legs shake and your lips quiver. His effect on you has always been like this, but for some reason, in his half dragon form, it had only became more powerful.

“Z-Zhongli…I—”

“This will be different from everything we did so far,” he interrupted you. “I will be rough and relentless. I will bite you and mark you that you are mine and mine only. I will not stop even if you tell me to. I will keep on pounding into you until your womb is full of my seed, and even then, I will not stop. I will breed into you until you become pregnant with my child. Do you truly understand?”

You bit your lip. His words were swirling in your head like a thick soup of lustful thoughts; pushing you into arousal. If he was meaning to scare you, then it had surely backfired.

“I do,” you replied, as he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And I want you to do all those things to me.”

For a moment, Zhongli stared at you; speechless and totally caught off guard by your reply. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to agree at all. You were supposed to be frightened, freaked out by his monster-like appearance, but here you are taking up the challenge as if it was nothing.

He grunted as soon as he realized you weren’t backing off. He knew who he had married.

“There is no guarantee that I can control myself later on, YN,” he cautioned you one more time. “I have no wish to hurt you, my love.”

You smiled at him, loosening his grip on your wrists and gently caressing his face. “I know, and I trust you.”

With a sigh, Zhongli stood up straight and scooped you from your place. Carrying you on his arms, he then dropped you unceremoniously on the bed with an ungraceful plop. He gazed at you from above; the power of his eyes never waning.

Because of how dark it was, you have never noticed that he was naked all over. But with the light shining just to the side, you could see his dragon features much more clearly now—dark scales scattered all over his skin, golden horns on his head, sharp claws for hands and feet, as well a tail which was moving back and forth. Shifting your eyes downward, you promptly bit your lip.

You begin to feel apprehensive. It was natural that his dick is much bigger than his human form, but could that even fit inside you? Would you even survive after being fucked with that?

“Zhongli…um….just a moment—"

“You have been warned, YN,” Zhongli finally said as he crawled above you, never breaking eye contact. “I will no longer hold myself back.”

Pining both your wrists above your head, Zhongli cupped your cheeks and captured your lips in a harsh yet searing kiss. His tongue was immediately against yours, exploring your mouth and licking your lips which he had missed for so many months.

He had your breath knocked out of you immediately, as you struggled to keep up with the rapidly electrifying pace he had set. His hands were all over your body as he kept his lips close to yours as if he was trying to devour you. Zhongli wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to be rough.

Like a rabid beast, he quickly made work of your clothes; ripping them open with his sharp claws as he jumped from your lips to your neck—his favorite place to mark you. He knew every sensitive pulse to suck and nip at; tongue and lips meandering at every dip and rise of the muscles on your neck. Soon enough, he had left it with dark splotches of color on his wake, keening at his handiwork as if it had satisfied the animal in him.

In the sea of silken sheets and two bodies intertwined, you arched to his touch, loving how his mouth descended to your breast, flicking his tongue at your pert nipple. You could feel waves upon waves of arousal as he assaulted you lavishly with his mouth and lips—making sure he worships every inch of your body.

“Z-Zhongli…!”

You could feel his horns touch your skin, his tail twirling around your leg to spread them open; ready for him when he crosses that bridge. It didn’t help how he kept on tracing your skin with the blunt side of his claws, fascinated at how your flesh dipped; at how he was only one push behind before he draws out blood. But you were becoming increasingly sensitive the more he kept on marking your whole body and it only served to add a distinct kind of pleasure from his mouth and tongue.

He was right, this was different from everything you had done so far. This was feral, animalistic and unrestrained. All his past gentle touches were gone, only to be replaced but such an intensity that kept you panting.

“I suppose it is time to get you ready for me.”

Releasing your wrists so he can spread you open, Zhongli gazed up at you as he tore off your underwear, tossing the offending fabric to some corner of the room. You both could see how drenched you were, with him smirking at you as he dipped. And just like he said, he didn’t hold himself back.

In an instant, his tongue was around your clit; sucking and licking at the sensitive nub. You arched on the bed, your hands on his horns as you tried to hide your lustful cries. He growled at you from below, the vibrations eliciting a novel sensation which only made you even more aroused.

“Zhong…li…p-please! Wait—”

You were rapidly getting lightheaded from the sheer pleasure of his tongue, your body shaking as he swiped up your cunt, saving every drop of your juices leaking out. He kept your legs open with his strong claws, making you unable to do anything but submit to his ministrations.

Since he couldn’t insert his digits in you, he pushed his tongue into your hole; the wriggling sensation making your eyes turn. It was incredible how he felt; face buried in your cunt as he kept on licking you like a starved man.

“Oh god….! Please…please! Zhongli! I’m close…! I—”

With toes curled, you shut your eyes tight as your mouth flew open for a loud moan. Each pulse of your orgasm engulfing you with pleasure as Zhongli went on without stopping; electricity running underneath your skin.

Just like that, Zhongli pulled away and straddled you between his legs. His burning feral eyes looking down on you as he pumped his cock right before your face. You knew what he was planning to do.

“Open your mouth.”

Unable to deny him despite how lightheaded you are, you opened your lips and slowly took him in, accommodating his large girth and trying not to choke. It wasn’t like this was your first time but you were sucking off a monster of a cock, and your mouth can only fit so much of it.

Twirling your tongue around the tip, you did the best that you could. You knew where he was most sensitive in and kept attacking those places with your tongue. Licking up his shaft and sucking on a prominent vein, you slowly began to enter a lull of arousal—all you could think of was sucking him off, loving how he grinds himself inside your mouth with a guttural groan.

With his claws gripping your head, Zhongli pushed even harder, making you deepthroat him and gagging at how forceful it was. He kept on fucking your mouth, his large dick hitting the back of your throat at every thrust. It seemed painful and it was, as tears streamed down your cheeks, but you were also getting off of it, your cunt once again drenched.

You loved how full your mouth was of him, how the pain and the pleasure melded together into an incomprehensible yet hedonistic sensation. He was rough but you loved it.

Suddenly however, Zhongli pulled out from your mouth, his cock bobbing on his toned stomach. He gazed down at you who seemed to have woken up from a trance with watery eyes and pre-cum stained face.

“That’s enough. I think you’re ready.”

Dazed, you could only watch as he returned to his previous position; rubbing his cock on your drenched cunt. Every time he touches your clit, you groaned in delight—your writhing figure only served to push him further into carnality.

Without any warning, he sheathed his dick inside of you in one sharp thrust as you cried out so loudly from the sudden stimulation. He was so thick and you were so full of him in an instant; your cunt quivering from almost cumming.

“Z-Zhong…li…! Nnngh!”

The image of you underneath him—back arched and face in pure ecstasy—Zhongli could no longer stop himself. You were clenching around him so tightly; the warmth of your folds urging him to fuck you senseless.

And he did. Pulling almost all the way out, Zhongli then pounded back into roughly; grunting at how you felt so good around him. He continued to thrust into you, setting up a rough and harsh pace as he chased his own high.

“You take me in so well, YN,” he whispered as he bent down, your leg hanging on his shoulders. “Hang in there, love.”

All you could feel was him inside you, grazing on your most sensitive spots; turning you delirious with pleasure. He was so big, stretching you to your limits and it felt so good as he kept with his unrelenting thrusts; your cries fueling him to push harder.

His lips were on yours once again; determined to have them swollen with his intense kisses. He had long been waiting for this—every night where he had only had his hand to relieve him; he would think of you in this exact position. But now that he could finally be one with you, he couldn’t help revel in the absolute bliss of your embrace.

With his mouth, he continued where he left off on your breasts; giving the pert nipples more attention with a little bite. You could only scream at the sudden stimulation as it paired perfectly well with his every violent thrust; once again nearing you to the brink of climax.

“Z-Zhongli….Zhongli…! Aah…please…I can’t! It’s…too much!”

“No…” he growled at you, his claws now on your hips, easily manhandling you as he kept on pounding again and again. “I won’t stop.”

Skin slapping against skin was heard all over the room other than your hoarse whimpers and his deep groans. Limbs trembling at the overstimulation, you could only grasp on the sheets as Zhongli pleasured himself inside of you.

You were close…so close to climax that it only took one harsh thrust for you to come undone; screaming and clenching around him like a vice grip.

In his eyes, you were so beautiful, so erotic as he watched your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. He can’t help but think of how you would look like filled up with his seed, how he would breed into you until you bear him children.

Zhongli immediately felt you tighten up; groaning as he also felt his own orgasm upon him. As the both of you connected glances, he pushed himself further into you, his pace becoming more erratic.

“Nghh…! Take my seed…YN…!”

He moaned as he shoved deep inside of you, his thick cock filling you up with his warm seed. You convulsed once again, loving the way he was cumming inside of you, your eyes seeing nothing but stars.

Breathing in an out, you tried to calm your wildly beating heart as he pulled out. You sighed at the sudden emptiness, already missing how he felt inside you. Trying to find his eyes, you were able to exchange glances as you laid on the bed, breathless.

 However, he only returned your fucked out expression with a smirk, which only became more devilish with the slits in his eyes.  He could see his cum beginning to leak out from your hole; the image like a drug in his system, sending him into overdrive.

“Did you think we’re already done?” he asked as he turned you around, your ass high up on the air. “That would hardly get you pregnant, my love.”

With those words, he plunged his still hard dick back inside of you who was keening at the sudden stretch.

“…mnn…Zhongli…!” you cried. “I…I’m still sensitive!”

He only chuckled at your protests. Leaning down, he took a bite of your shoulder, and then began to look on the indentations he left.

“Did you conveniently forget the fact that I am a dragon in heat?” he asked, leaving another set of love bites on your shoulder blades. “I will stop at nothing until you are filled to the brim with my seed.”

“…Z-Zhongli…wait…!”

Your husband once again moved roughly, his lips now busy with decorating your back with his marks. Tonight, you will be full of him—his scent, his marks, his seed—you belong to him and no one else.

For the rest of the night, he did exactly what he promised. Zhongli kept on fucking you over and over, and cumming inside you every single time. He seemed to have endless stamina, and kept on going for hours on end. The both of you tried every position possible—from you riding him to him fucking you on his lap—there was no respite.

It was when you heard the roosters crow and the bright singing of the birds that Zhongli finally stopped. Buried on stained sheets and throes of pillows, he finally collapsed beside you who was still trembling from your last orgasm—how many times was it? You had already lost count.

“Have you calmed down now?” you asked, still breathless as you felt him creep a hand around your waist to pull you into a tight snuggle.

Your husband hummed. “Yes. For now, that is.

“So there’s more?”

He kissed the nape of your neck now adorned by his bitemarks. “I did precisely tell you that I am in heat, darling. Heats do not last for a night.”

You sighed at his reply and then turned to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I’ll be ready then.”

With your words, Zhongli only chuckled, nuzzling against you. “It is still beyond me how you easily agreed. There is no doubt that you will be with child after this.”

A smile crept on your lips.

“Well, actually…that was what I was hoping to talk to you about,” you replied as you covered his arm with yours. “I was going to say I’ll be resigning from adventuring, and focus on finding work here in Liyue so that we can stay close like this.”

“Oh…” was all he could say as everything fell into its rightful places.

“It turned out quite better than expected, didn’t it?” you told him with a grin.

“It did,” Zhongli replied. “Now get some rest, we’ll continue once you wake up.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Hi elliechan! I’ve already written friendship hcs for Venti but I never want to leave anyone hanging (unless the dupe request is incredible specific and I can’t add onto it anymore) so think of it as a part 2. But if you haven’t seen Part 1 yet, I added a link.

Also, I would like to credit fulltimeventisimp​ for helping me out with this fic. My monkey brain couldn’t think of anything for Venti but they gave me literally a fics worth of content. PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY, MAKE IT AN ACTUAL FIC! I LOVED IT! I tried my best to not piggy back too hard off it but if it does seem that way, let me know and I’ll definitely change it. 

But thank you 💕💕💕

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Part 1: Venti Frienship HCs

Xiao: Frienship HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Venti

The first time you met the bard, it was when you were visiting Mondstadt as a small pit stop. He was sat on top of some wooden boxes, next to an apple vendor, singing a short ballad. You’ve never encountered bards throughout your journey and he did have a lovely singing voice so you decided to stay a bit and listen in. It felt like the wind itself was carrying his voice throughout the streets but you couldn’t help but feel a bit...melancholy from his tune. Was it homesickness? You clapped with the crowd when the bard finished and on a whim, you decided to buy him a small bag of apples. He seemed to like them as he only asked the apple vendor to gift him two for his efforts. When you paid your purchase the bard seemed to be in a deep conversation with the same vendor that you didn’t want to disturb them, after all you weren’t going to be in Mondstadt for long. So you placed the small bag of apples beside the bard’s lyre with a quick thank you note, a couple extra coins, and continued on your journey. 

You didn’t expect that small act of kindness would lead to anything but when you were preparing for bed, the same bard popped his head outside your window and almost gave you a heart attack. This bard was lucky he didn’t catch you while you were changing your clothes or else things might have turned ugly. He wanted to thank you for your generous donation which you simply waved off explaining that throughout your journey, you never met anyone that could sing quite like him. A small token of appreciation. Perhaps it was because you fed his ego too much or other reasons but that seemed to peak the bards interest and ask about what other fascinating places you’ve been too. You talked about the horrible mountain you needed to climb through to reach Mondstadt, the shining electro lamps of Inazuma that would spark if you got too close, to the clear pools and lotus heads in Liyue. 

“You’ve been around all over the place! Perhaps you would allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

“Hm? Is that so? Why don’t you come with me? Go outside the walls of Mondstadt and explore. So you can write your own ballad instead of others.”

“Is this another acting whim of yours?”

“Haha, perhaps.”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t see the bard the next day. It was probably a lot to suddenly ask a stranger to drop everything and come with you to unknown places. But you decided to stay in Mondstadt for a short while and see what the City of Freedom had to offer. From meeting the supposed gliding champion and learning a few pointers, to the mysterious Calvary Captain who you were sure was probably the shadiest person you’ve ever met, to the aloof red headed tavern owner. You weren’t much of a drinker but everyone in Mondstadt, especially the knights, seemed to really enjoy their wine and were incredibly friendly to strangers. On the night you were planning to leave Mondstadt, the rowdy knights you’ve became friends with decided to celebrate and urge you to drink to your hearts content (please drink responsibly haha). You must have been a bit tipsy when you met the bard for a second time, introducing himself properly as Venti. You could blame it on the alcohol when you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest but it was the most fun you had in a while. You were pretty sure everyone got kicked out but as you leaned against Venti absolutely hammered, laughing about the silliest things, it was the most freeing feeling you’ve ever felt. 

From then on, even after you had left the City of Freedom, you could would randomly see Venti pop up sometimes. Should it be at Starsnatch Cliff or all the way in Wolvendom, you would see a few fluffy feathers appear as the bar- Venti announced his arrival. You were pretty sure Venti was bored whenever he visited you to see what you were up to but you didn’t mind. His liveliness nature was addicting and you were an easy going person. Though, some of the jokes he made, made you a bit suspicious of him. Whenever he would say that Andrius was secretly a grumpy mother hen or that Dvalin was actually a shy sweetheart.

“You sure do know a lot about Mondstadt. You sure you’re just a bard Venti?”

“Hmm, well it shouldn’t hurt to tell you. I am Barbatos. The Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance..-again.”

“I see...and yet you still get ID checked?” 

“Rude!” 

Outside of Mondstadt, Venti is a whirlwind of emotions. Always wanting to see what’s changed or linking your hands and dragging you off to some far off chest he found. How did his small body have so much strength to nearly pop your arm out? He did come in handy during your Liyue expeditions since he can give you a small boost to just reach the top of that cliff. You thought violet grass was bad, it should be illegal for Qingxin flowers to grow on the very top of mountains. Venti thinks it’s really sweet that you put so much faith in his winds to let yourself fly when he uses his elemental skill. Though, it’s a bit of a double edged sword. When you finally reach the very top and you’re waiting for Venti to join you, he might pretend to loose control and throw himself off the cliff. You sometimes forget he’s literally the anemo archon and you’re ready to go gliding after him before he pops up in front of you to give you another scare. While he’s laughing, you’re already planning how to sneak slime condensate into his hat. 

“You should have seen your face! I didn’t know you could scream like that! Liyue must think a banshee is haunting their mountains again!”

“Watch yourself gremlin, you might wake up without hands tomorrow.”

“Haha, you wouldn’t do that...right? How would you even do that? Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Isn’t there a saying in Liyue Venti? You can’t run from your debts? Prepare yourself.”

For as child-like Venti appears, you both end up getting into a bit of trouble when Venti get’s a bit too bold. While it’s incredibly refreshing to see someone speak their mind regardless of the consequences, you actually kind of admire him for that, usually the boldness comes from trying to bribe the bartender for free drinks. Your poor wallet is crying out every time Venti spots a new tavern. While he say’s he will pay you back or he’ll pay you back in a song, you can’t actually eat his words. But on other occasions you can’t help but join in when it happens to be one of the Fatui guards giving you both a hard time. You feel like you’re acting out a Shakespearian play with all the flowery nonsense and metaphors you’re both spitting out. 

When you’re both in the thick of a forest or even on top of Liyue’s mountain, Venti will bring his lyre out and strum his strings softly as you both fall into a comfortable silence. Looking at the sunset or relaxing under the trees as the sun peaks through as you both live in the moment. It’s these times that you’re harshly reminded that Venti is an archon as he slips out of his persona and speaks as Barbatos. He tells you how fun your adventures have been, that he was glad to have made friends with you, speaking as if you’re about to die tomorrow. You’re not sure how to handle it, what kind of burden Venti is carrying, but you immediately drop everything and comfort him. Giving him a strong but warm hug that you’re still here and he’s not alone right now. 

“Come on, I’m still waiting for the Ballad of Venti. You haven’t given up on that right?” 

“Hmph, of course not. Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song.”

Diluc

It was a peaceful day, one Diluc hadn’t felt in a long time in his hectic life. Though it was a bit too early to determine how the day would go since it was still noon. The tavern would soon get loud as it approached night but for now. Everything was peaceful. The sounds of Monstadt streets bustling. The peaceful atmosphere as the sun shone through the windows. Working on mundane tasks of wiping the counter down. No Kaeya in sight. A small moment of peace. All broken when his door was kicked nearly off its hinges as you announced your return from your shopping trip as if you had returned after a 3 year long journey. Diluc sighs under his breath, takes a moment to pray he doesn’t need to repair his door again, and helps you with your bags as you ramble about your day. 

To others, it’s always seems a bit weird when they catch Diluc and you chatting since Diluc always gives off the lone wolf persona and yet you’re this ball of sunshine. Maybe it’s because you knew Diluc when he was a child, back when he was still bright-eyed, that you never treated him any differently when he came back. Diluc never really talks about it but he’s happy that you’re still the same and he can let himself relax with you. He still keeps his silent demeanor as he listens to you talk about anything and everything, it helps keeps his mind occupied, but he might add a few comments here and there. Just to let you know he’s still listening. 

You know what sounds really hot? Sitting in the same room with someone while you both do your own respective thing. You both don’t feel forced to talk to each other just because you’re in the same room or you have to do everything together just because you’re together. It’s an easy atmosphere that settles as Diluc works on business papers and you’re planning your next expeditions. Until you end collapsing on his couch because your brain processing has suffered enough and it’s time to take a nap. You always end up dragging him out of his work to go outside and take a nice doze in the sun. 

If you ever have a problem, he won’t necessarily coddle you unless it really bothers you or you’re in a situation where it could hurt you, but he’ll do everything to help you work through it. You’re his friend and if someone is giving you a hard time then he has no problem chasing them away, especially if its a Fatui member. If it happens to be Kaeya, well that’s an entirely different story. Likewise, if it appears to you that Diluc is going through a rough time you’ll try and comfort him. Do small little things to let him know that you care and while he doesn’t need to tell you what’s wrong, you’re here to support him. 

Diluc enjoys playing chess against you, even if he wins most of the time, you’re always so determined that he can’t help but laugh along with your over reactions. Presenting him an entire 20 page paper on chess and yet getting checkmated in 10 turns. You’re 95% sure all the chess strategies he offered were all fake, if his smug grin is anything to go by. You both have agreed to never play darts together, well more specifically, you’re pretty sure you’re banned from playing darts when you almost hit Adelinde. That was the first time you ever genuinely feared for your life. 

Whenever Diluc has to attend a gala or has to host a party to further his business, he’s always appreciative when you show up. You’re not exactly apart of royalty or even a business owner but it’s so refreshing to Diluc, after spending so much time keeping a polite attitude and trying to talk business, when he can come to you as you laugh about how one lady almost tripped because her dress was too long. Sometimes he’ll lean a bit on you or pretend to be in a conversation just so he can recharge. 

More often then not, you’re mistaken to be Diluc partner even though the idea of holding Diluc’s hand makes you want to throw up. But when Diluc get’s random father’s trying to offer their daughter’s hands in marriage, he’ll pull the excuse he’s already with someone if they can’t no for an answer. It’s always funny to you, linking arms with Diluc and re-telling the grandiose story about how Diluc saved you from falling off a cliff when you were both younger and you were both star-crossed lovers that were destined to be together. Or something like that, you’re pretty sure you’ve changed the story enough times that you can’t keep track. But it seems to work and as soon as they are out of ear’s reach you make a quick gagging motion. He shoves you a bit to which you elbow him in the side. Old habits die hard. 

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I swear, I could probably recite character stories word for word at this point. Gripping my writing hand don’t make it angsty, don’t make it angsty, don’t fucking do it. But I still did, whoops. 

I feel like my fics are really long so I’ll add a read more tag. Mmm writing styles are hard. I don’t know if I like this;; I ended up writing so much to try and combine my “hcs are just another word for fics just without the dialogue” and “actual headcanons” styles. Ahh, well whatever. I have to go speedrun my assignments since genshin is going to eat all my time this week. 

[elles-writing]

The Sounds of Home - Kili x reader

Kili x reader

Requested: Yes, by @terri205​

Request:  Hello there - I read one of your previous posts about taking requests so here i am asking for a drabble or oneshot with some domestic life / husband x wife with children with Kili even though his character died I really cannot get over him. Hope you are still writing for him . ( dwarf x human if that helps .. also can the height difference be erased for now ? Yk Aidan is a tall boy 😁🙃 ) wish you having a great day!

Word count: around 3k

A/N: Of course!! I write a lot for Kili, because I feel like there’s not a lot of fanfics for him, that people actually think more of Fili and Thorin, but hey, this little cute pup needs love too! (Just like Lindir. He’s also adorable.) And I’ve red somewhere on Pinterest that Thorin is actually tall 5′2 ft, which is like only solid 2 inches smaller than me (okay, I’m barely 5′4 ft)!! And Kili’s only a bit smaller than Thorin!! I’ll look for that picture and if I find it, i’ll put it here.

A/N II: I feel like my writting sucks at most of this one, I’m so sorry! I wanted it to be much, much better, but I just somehow don’t really know how to rewrite it, so I’m posting it anyways. I want to write something similar in the future, so I’ll tag you to it.

A/N III: I wrote some extra part and edited it, so now I can say I’m quite happy with it!

Tw: pregnancy, mentions of sex

Okay, so here it is. I found it on pinterest, but it’s from tumblr @richardarmitagequotes​ . Here is the link to it.

Playlist you don’t have to listen, but I was writting during listening to these songs: Taylor Swift - cartigan, Taylor Swift - exile, The Chainsmokers - Paris, Porcelain Black - One Woman Army, Taylor Swift - august, 

It was such a long time ago when did this happened...

This was how you started your children’s bedtime story, which was their favourite - it was the story of how did their parents - you and Kili - have met and long adventure that was avaiting behind them to reclaim Erebor. About you, a young human girl, who was curious and wanted to see the world, and him, young dwarf prince, who wanted to help to reclaim his home again. And surely wasn’t counting on finding love, but yet you were here - Kili, you and your children - living in a cottage a bit aside from Erebor and Dale.

It was a sunny day, you and your children working at the garden. You were in the middle of placing tomatoes to your handbasket, when a loud scream came to your ears. You looked up and sighed at the sight of your son scaring your daughter with earthworm on a stick, which was moving around.

“Vili, stop scaring Ainiel with that earthworm. Go back to taking out the carrots out, alright? And let Ainiel to pick the berries.” Your son shook his head and went back to taking out the carrots, putting the earthworm to his hand and mumbling something to it before putting it back to the hole, where was one big carrot before.

You looked at him by the corner of your eye. He has the same hair as his father, face features, very similar personality, the only thing was his eyes - they were brown with slight e/c in them. Your daughter has gotten her father’s hair texture, face shape and a bit of his joking personality, but from you she’ve gotten her bookworm-self, able to read all day, and thinking carefully about things. Otherwise, she would be your dupe.

You looked over to your youngest child - your second daughter, who was sitting in the grass and creating a flower tiara from daisies. When she was done, she jumped up and with squealing runned to her sister and putted the tiara on her head. She let out a bubbly laugh, as toddlers do, and runned to you.

“Mama, Ainiel is a princess! I am a princess! Mama is a princess!” And placed flowery tiara she finished earlier in your hair. You smiled and she sat down to you, looking up to sky.

“Is there going to be a storm?” You looked up and noticed the dark clouds, quickly approaching. You took your youngest daughter to your arms, your basket hanging from your forearm.

“Vili, take the carrots, Ainiel, take the basket with berries, Lila...” you looked in the toddler’s eyes.

“Hold your tiara, dearie.” You looked over the garden and noticed movement on the other side of the garden on your backyard. Then someting let out a ‘meow’.

It’s probably just some cat, you thought when a typical little furry tale glimpsed through the grass. It wasn’t unusual for cats to be wondering around your house, since in a Dale many people were having cats as pets.

When you were inside, a hard rain started. You sighed out, placed Lila and the basket with tomatoes down in the kitchen, and went over to fireplace to start a fire.

Once the room was filled with warm light and sound of cracking wood, your children started with washing and clearing the vegetables. Vili and Ainiel only, because Lila was sitting on the chair cuddled in blanket. She was afraid of thunders and storms, and even though there was no thunder, there was sometimes a lightning across the sky and she squealed and jumped up.

You made a luke-warm tea for Lila and while she was sipping it, you were cutting the vegetables and meat and cooking stew.

Once the meal was done, you looked out through the window. It was raining really hard still, so you decided to take your children and cuddle behind the fireplace with tea and either read to them or tell them some story.

Once you and your children sat down, blankets were all over the place and Vili and Lila fighting over one of them.

“Lila, give it to me, you have it all the time!”

“No, I want it! Give it to me!” Vili teared out the blanket from her hands and she squealed when she fell down. She started sobbing and then vailing. Vili’s eyebrows furrowed and he kneeled down to her.

“I’m so sorry, Lila, I didn’t wanted to hurt you! Look, you can take the bla-” She teared the blanket from his hands and stick out her tongue on him. He was surprised and inhaled, but Lila jumped on him and started beating his chest by her little fists.

“I’m as strong as you!” Vili squealed when she took his hair and started to pulling them. You quickly took her off of him, careful not to pull his hair more, but a few of them stayed in your daughter’s grasp.

“You’re getting way too energetic, young lady. What’s all this about?” You sat down and she was sitting in your lap.

“He wanted to take my blanket and I fell down.” She didn’t dared to look up at you.

“It’s because the two men in Dale two weeks ago were doing this?” She mumbled a response and you shook your head.

“Lila, that’s not how you are supposed to solve problems. First, you need to talk about it. Don’t be that-” then a loud thunder and sharp lightning scrossed the sky and Lila squeaked.

“M-momma, I’m so afraid!” She nuzzled to your chest and you wrapped a blanket around the two of you. Vili and Ainiel sat next to you, wrapped in blankets.

“Will you tell us the story, momma?” Ainiel asked you, breaking the silence. A slight smile stretched your lips.

“You already know that one backwards.”

“That’s not true, I cannot say it backwards!” Vili protested and Ainiel shook her head.

“That means we already know it really well, you dumb dwarf.” Lila let out a laugh.

“Will you tell us the part with Master Baggin’s home? The beginning?” Vili made a pleading puppy look, that he surely got from his father, and you sighed.

“Okay.”

“And that one when you confessed your love?” Ainiel asked. You smiled and nodded.

“I will. So, I came here with Balin, and I didn’t wanted to be rude, because, as you know, hobbits are peaceful beings and they don’t like when someone is rude, so I just sat aside. Then, there was another knock on the door, and I told him I will open. I opened the door, and there were two young dwarves, one with blonde hair and blue eyes and the other one with dark hair and brown eyes. Me and the younger one froze in spot and the whole Shire must’ve hear us, because we both screamed: ‘YOU?!’. It was that dwarf I saved from two orcs and kicked his butt before, calling him very...spicy names for doing such a stupid thing.”

“How did you called him?” Vili pleated. You’ve never told them, that first words adressed from you to their father were ‘What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!’.

It was a few days since you’ve left your home for an adventure, where Gandalf invited you. 

You were thankful to the few of dwarves that lived near the village you’ve lived in, whom teached your father how to fight, which he teached you. You could get a few nice hours of sleep at night, because you didn’t have to worry about not being able to defend yourself.

The next day, around a down, settling down your things to prepare for a camp, a loud scream cutted the silence. You looked up. It sounded as if somebody needed a help.

You quickly and as quietly as you could, runned to that spot. You looked through the bushes and noticed somebody - a male - trying to fight with two orcs double size of him. One of them was holding his leg, the other one his arm and he was trying to fight with them, but you assumed they took his weapons, since he had nothing but a dagger. You quickly let out an arrow, which went straight through orc’s head, and he fell dead. You jumped out of your hiding spot and the other one chuckled darkly in black speech. You growled and jumped aside when he was trying to catch you. He tried to stab you with his sword, but you were way too quick. You jumped up at tree stump and stabbed him by your sword in it’s back. The orc fell dead, down to the ground.

You looked over to that male - a dwarf, you thought, because of his ears and he was as tall as you - and he was staring at you with awe in his eyes. Adrenalin was still in you from the fight in your veins and you got angry.

“What were you thinking, you fucking fool?! Two big orcs twice your size?! If I wouldn’t save you, you would be dead by now!” He snapped from his expression and quickly started gathering his weapons.

“I didn’t needed help, you know?! I could-I would be able to win over them!” You snorted in very un-lady like way while taking out your sword and arrow.

“Of course, but before that, you would be their dinner.” You looked over your shoulder and shook your head. No. He has just stupid brown puppy eyes.

“That’s not true!” He got angry, slightely offended. You smirked.

“All right then. You’d be their midnight snack.” You chuckled when noticed his face to redden and looked away to get to your place where you wanted to camp.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that man since then. And your angry behaviour, which you were quite sorry for.

“That’s not appropiate for your ears, children. So, where did I ended? Oh, I know!” Vili and Ainiel shimmed closer to you.

“Then, the blonde one looked at both of us and asked: ‘Where do you know each other from?’. The brown-haired muttered something under his breath and I sighed. ‘I didn’t wanted to be so rude, you know?’ He looked up at me, eyes wide, mouth slightely open and cheeks red. I got into house and...who do you think was that?” You asked your children and Ainiel, the quick thinker, was first one to answer that.

“Uncle Fili and Adad, mommy!” She grinned and you stroke her hair.

“Excellent. Now-” You inhaled to talk again, but Ainiel interrupted you.

“Now the wedding, mommy! How was the wedding? Was it big? Was it beautiful?” Her face lighted up in happiness, that was her favourite part. Vili just snorted.

“Girls. Why the wedding? It’s so boring!” You chuckled.

“One day you will find your own significant other and you won’t be snorting at the mention of weddings, because you will be the eager one to plan it all out.” Said voice behind you. You and your children turned around and found your soaking-wet, but madly-grinning husband. Vili squealed, excited, and while trying to get to him, be tripped over his own legs and blanket and landed at the floor. Lila’s fluttered open and she yawned as she woke up from her slumber, and once she noticed her father, she squealed in joy and tried to get to him, her arms opened for a hug.

“Adad! You’re home!” He picked Vili up from the floor and with a grin on his face, he picked up Lila too and spun them around. The sight of him with your children, his face lighted up with joy and absolute adoration for them was a thing that made you to appreciate every single moment like that you had.

Kili placed his two children to the ground, and even if all three of them were wet now, they didn’t really cared. You stood up.

“Now, I see, you are ready to change in something dry.” Kili looked over to Vili and Lila.

“Who’s going to be the first one changed, gets the most cookies!” Before you could even blink, Vili and Lila were already rushing to their rooms to change, and Kili went to your bedroom to change, too.

Ainiel turned to you.

“What about the wedding, mommy? How was it?” You sat down to her.

“So, at first, it was before the battle of five armies. Me and your father, your uncle, nobody knew if we will survive, so we decided to do it without unnecessary formalities. We just changed vows, gifts, kissed and braided each other’s hair.” And lost our virginities that night.

“After the battle and when Dale and Erebor was rebuilded, we got married with all of the formalities that are necessary in royal family. It was a big and eventful wedding, very loud, too. Something like celebration on Durin’s Day, but three times louder, with more dancing.” She nodded with a serious expression.

* Extra *

After the dinner (and promised cookies, which got Vili and Lila) and when your children went to sleep, you and Kili stayed together in the living room, cuddled under a blanket.

„How was your day, amralime?“ You asked him while making circles inside his palm. Kili softly kissed the top of your head.

„Uneventful and boring, givanshel. Meeting got longer today, and thanks to the storm, I was even more late than I would be. How was today for you, my precious queen?“ You felt his hand lazily making circles over the fabric on your stomach and smiled.

„Just like any other day, my dear husband. Two out of our three children took their personality after you, making every day an adventure,“ He softly chuckled and kissed your temple from the back.

„It all started with one adventure,“ He said in a low voice. You sighed softly.

„Yes, indeed it did. But I saved your butt before that adventure,“ His fingers started to make way to your hips and sides.

„Of course, my dear wife,“ He started tickling you, and you tried to giggle as quietly as possible to not to wake the children. You turned around, so you now faced Kili and sat on his lap. You kissed his nose, then his lips, and he smiled to the kiss. He pulled you closer.

„Mhmm, amralime,“ He whispered when you pulled away for air. You pushed a few strands of his hair out of his face, looking deep to his loving brown eyes

„You should go to sleep. You are tired,“ You said. He raised a brow.

„I can stay awake as long as you’d like me to.“ His eyes got that mischievous spark you knew way too well.

„I may be in love with you, but you cannot fool me, my precious prince.“ You kissed his cheek softly.

„So you want to say you’d turn down an opportunity for making love on the floor, or just right here, right now?“ You gasped and punched his shoulder softly.

„Kili!“ His sparkling eyes were watching you, while his lips tugged up into a smirk.

„You didn’t minded that when we moved in,“ He winked at you and your cheeks burned red.

„You’re right,“ You muttered and he laughed.

„But I wanted to talk to you about something...something else,“ You nervously rubbed your hands together. He furrowed his brows and cupped your cheek in his palm, making you to look at him.

„What’s wrong, Amralime?“ You felt his body tense. He was fully awake, and you just shook your head with a small smile.

„Nothing is wrong.“

„What is it, then?“ You placed his palm to your stomach. Kili’s eyes widened in realization, experiencing this for the fourth time.

„Are you-are you really-do you mean-?“ You slowly nodded.

„Around a week,“ A grin stretched across his lips and he took you to his arms, kissing your whole face, dancing around your living room.

„We’re going to have another baby, I cannot-oh Mahal, I can’t believe that!“ He kissed your lips with a smile.

„You need to rest, givanshel.“ He started walking towards your bedroom.

„I can walk on my own, Kili.“ You laughed and he kissed your temple as he kicked the door to your bedroom open.

„Well, you need to rest a lot now, so no walking for you, my love.“ He placed you down to your shared bed and you giggled.

„I need to walk at some point. Who will cook?“ Kili kicked off his boots and laid to you, placing you to his chest and resting his palm on your still flat belly. He kissed your temple and blinked, so he wouldn’t start crying out of pure happiness.

„You know how it ended up every time you ever tried to cook,“ You reminded him and he grimaced.

„Oh, c’mon amralime, I’m not that bad at cooking!“

„You cutted yourself while cutting the vegetables and then burned the soup.“

„Oh hush amralime,“ He muttered and you laughed.

„Amad was giving me a cooking lessons,“ He blurted out suddenly. You raised a brow and turned to him.

„When we were over for Durin’s day last year. Well, rather Amad was teaching me, while Lila and Ainiel were watching over the kitchens in general, and Vili, well,“ He looked sleepishly down on you.

„Vili was messing around with Fili,“ You rolled your eyes.

„I’ve noticed them, of course. I’m glad Erebor is still standing,“ You both chuckled and he started rubbing small circles on your belly. You sighed and hugged your husband closer. He kissed your forehead.

„Sleep, Amralime. You need to rest.“

„You too, Amralime. Good night.“

„Good night, my princess.“

[aspiringprofessionalnerd]

Lan Xichen Defense Rant

It’s weird to me to see so many posts that characterise Lan Xichen as a dumb and/or passive character in the MDZS/Untamed universes. Maybe it’s because I identify with his personality and experiences, but it seems to me that that assessment is a bit unfair. Here’s why: 

-Emotional and academic intelligence. Sure he doesn’t have the keen cunning that Jin Guangyao does or the mad sort of genius that Wei Wuxian possesses, but Xichen is an intellectually adept man, a talented cultivator, and, perhaps most importantly of all, intensely perceptive. He can read people like LWJ and WWX well, with an intuitive sense of what each one needs. He operates behind the scenes so you don’t always get direct glimpses of it, but take for example his invitation of WWX to the lake on LWJ’s behalf, or his ability to recognise WWX in Mo Xuanyu’s body. He’s also able to offer valuable insights on people that his peers would overlook (for example, arguing that WWX had not caused any trouble after Qiongqi Way and was therefore not as violent or unhinged as the Lanling Jin were making him out to be). His perspectives provide nuance to characters and situations in an environment where the people around him are prone to characterise one another in black and white--and, as we know from watching WWX’s character vs. his reputation as the Yiling Patriarch, those black and white perspectives are often convoluted.

‘But this guy was completely duped by Jin Guangyao, the big baddy with the baby face! How is that being perceptive or a good judge of character?’ you say.

Well...yes and no. 

Sure, Lan Xichen defended Jin Guangyao for longer than any of us were quite comfortable with, but I can’t help thinking of what he said about Jin Guangyao himself: about how the person he saw was different from how people were painting him; about how JGY was loyal, and lonely. And the thing is: HE WAS RIGHT. Jin Guangyao was part vengeful mastermind, but he was ALSO the person who helped bring down Wen Ruohan, the person who served as a kind and devoted sworn brother to Lan Xichen himself. Again with the failure of black-and-white characterisations: Jin Guangyao was a complicated individual whose actions didn’t allow him to be put in a neat little box. Lan Xichen’s impressions of JGY are not wrong or inauthentic; they’re simply incomplete. WWX and LWJ saw the aspects of JGY that LXC didn’t; LXC saw and understood the aspects of JGY that no one else did. All three of our boys were ‘right’ about parts of JGY and who he was. The fact that what Lan Xichen saw was the more positive side does not somehow make him stupider  or less accurate than his peers, and I think it shows wisdom and integrity that he’s willing to take LWJ’s and WWX’s insight son board at all rather than denying them outright.

-Social and interpersonal position. Lan Xichen cannot be evaluated in a vacuum any more than the other characters of MDZS can; his available courses of action are shaped by the roles he occupies, especially that of Lan Clan head. He frequently has to be the grown-up who smooths things over between other people. Sometimes this is across clan leaders, sometimes between family members (notably LWJ and the cantankerous Lan Qiren), sometimes between friends (LWJ and WWX #okaysoulmatesyeahiknow), and sometimes across other REAL AWKWARD dynamics (NMJ and JGY, servant/master turned traitor/traitee turned sworn brothers turned murderer/victim). In some ways, LXC simply doesn’t have the OPTION to make some of the choices that the younger cultivators with less responsibility do (or at least if he did, the ramifications would look very different). That said, he contributes in his own way. As mentioned above, LXC helps fill in the gaps and brings a more holistic picture when the people around him are combative. I tend to see this as a manifestation of his goodness and his empathy, not of cowardice or inaction. 

Perhaps characters like WWX and LWJ read more heroic because their actions are more decisive; however, I’d like to point out that these actions are the result of them being very selective in who they care about and protect. LWJ basically says ‘fuck it’ to everyone who isn’t WWX, and WWX gives up his care and attachment to the world--even his adoptive family in some respects--to watch over the Wen refugees. (Another nice pairing to illustrate this is Song Lan and XXC, who care deeply about each other OR about saving the world but have virtually zero middle ground between those extremes). LXC, on the other hand, tries to gather as much intel as possible and consider the different angles before making a decision. This approach often illustrates his ability to see goodness in people and exceptions that those around him overlook. Thus, he’s not trying to avoid decisions altogether; rather, he is attempting to make his decisions (and those undertaken by his colleagues) as informed as possible. Consideration itself IS a form of action here, and an important one. (Take as a contrast WWX. Noble choices? Hell yeah. Doing the right thing? Usually. But you best believe that there are moments that I scream ‘WWX you IDIOT’ when his good heart gets tripped up by his Gryffindor-y impulsiveness.)

-Storytelling perspective: I really feel for Lan Xichen. The Twin Jades of Gusu are both very private people, but LWJ has Lan Xichen to translate for him at critical moments (especially in the context of WangXian developments), and as time goes on we see WWX unpack some of LWJ’s mysterious heart as well. Lan Xichen doesn’t have that at all. As a result, we don’t get the same in-built sympathy of ‘oh THAT’S where he’s coming from’ to justify his actions or even see how deeply events are effecting him. (Take by contrast Jiang Cheng or WWX, for whom we can imagine virtually every excruciating detail because we’ve been sitting with them through all of their experiences). The tragedy of Lan Xichen is that he spends so much time and energy helping other characters (and us as readers/viewers) empathise with other people, but has no one in the story to extend him the same courtesy.

So, long story short, I think Lan Xichen is kind and good and intelligent, and his ability to mediate (often from the margins) does not undermine his importance as an admirable character.

[obsidianfr3sk]

Falcon in the Dive

Summary:  Piercing into the sky and higher, Ace thrived. The weak cowered, but the fittest, like him, survived. He didn't wait until the darkest hour, he didn't wait until they spring alive. He, with claws of fire, devoured like a falcon in the dive.

AO3

As my contribuiton to the Multifandom Gift Exchange 2020 (hosted by the wonderful @darkalinas and @scxundress), here’s a gift for my little sister and favorite villain apologist (?) @alecjamesartino. As soon as they told me I was your gifter... well, I was really happy!!! And then x’d I knew I had to write something about Ace and this song just... LIKE I JUST KNEW I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT ACE INSPIRED IN FALCON IN THE DIVE, ALL RIGHT???? I JUST ✨K N E W✨

Before y’all start reading xd I need to... kinda clarify something. So, I don’t know if you know, but I actually based all of my fics on this timeline made by @honey-hippie-harper and @healing-winston-pratt, and I kinda just started to create my headcanons from it. But, today I decided to throw all of them through the freaking window and base this fic on this timeline, made by my giftee:’))) She uses it for her fic Love and Anarchy (which you should totally read!). That said, this work has nothing to do with my other fics (for example, Rise of the Renegades or The Origins), I’m just experimenting with new headcanons:’)

Another important thing x’d On this fic I mention Leroy’s eyes turn green when he uses his powers and that Hugh’s eyes are gray instead of blue. This are not my headcanons, they’re actually from this drawing made by @healing-winston-pratt​. Go check it out and reblog it!!) 

Now... well, my dear little sister Alec, I hope you like this gift. I know how much you like Ace and the Anarchists, and I have never written anything about them (Begginings and Endings doesn’t count, it was from David’s POV x’d) so this was a complete challenge for me. But what kept me going was... thinking that I was doing this for you. And honestly, your timeline just gave me so much space to play with new headcanons and scenarios, so thank you for that:’)) Personally I consider myself someone with a extraordinary imagination, but you, Alec, left me dumbfounded (quedé dirían en mi tierra). You are so young, and brilliant, and adorably deathly that I just want to hold you and protect you from the the bad things that happen on this world:’) 

I’d say I love you but I’m akward so I’ll just say I’m really fond of you. I think you have a lot of potentential and I hope I get to see you become a wonderful woman. Felices fiestas✨✨✨ 

Knock in the doors, lock up the city,

track him down through this town,

and be quick about it... now!

How the devil can I ever prevail when I'm only a man?

I can never be duped by that scurrilous phantom again.

Year 0, month 0

“I thought you were going to be taller.”

Ace stopped looking at the chandelier hanging over his head to look at the woman to his right. “Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to be taller,” she repeated almost yelling.

“Fuck, Honey ...”

Ace turned to his left. “What?” Honey asked. “I’m just saying, geez.”

The young man's eyes went from dark to toxic green.

“Leroy,” Ace interrupted, “your chair is ... burning.”

Leroy removed his hands from the armrest of the chair he was sitting in, cursing underneath. There were drops of a greenish liquid coming from his fingers and the wood smelled like a burnt tree. As he did his best to clean up the mess he had made with his powers, Ace turned his attention back to Honey. “Did you think it was going to be taller?”

Honey tucked one of her blonde curls behind her ear. She was wearing a white coat with rhinestone as buttons; a group of prodigies had given it to her in exchange for allowing them to join their ranks. Ace had replied that it was not necessary to pay any kind of tribute and that anyone who agreed with the values of the Anarchists, could consider themselves as such. Despite this, one of the boys insisted on giving Honey the coat, because from the moment he saw it, he thought it was “fit for a queen”. That was the moment when Ace's theory was confirmed: Honey had a weakness for compliments and gifts. She accepted the coat with a smile and even defended the boy when Leroy muttered, “Ahem, simp.”

That was also the moment when he realized that Leroy's weakness was driving Honey out of her mind.

Regardless, Ace could tell that they had some kind of… appreciation for each other. The first time he saw them use their powers was when Honey sent a cloud of wasps to a group of cops who tried to get Leroy into one of their trucks and when Leroy burned the face of a guy who had grabbed Honey from wrist strong enough to make her scream.

Those two were powerful and loyal without falling into blind fanaticism. Ace needed people like that in his ranks.

The whole world needed such people in its ranks.

“I mean, yeah,” Honey continued. “I had heard so much about Ace Anarchy that… well, I have to admit I did build up some expectations.”

Ace fixed his gaze on Honey's feet. She was wearing heels. Obviously. “Why don't you get off those stilts and say it to my face?”

Honey burst out laughing right away and Ace too. He could even see Leroy trying not to smile before crossing his arms on his chest.

The three were on the seat of the cathedral, Ace sitting on the main chair where the priest who officiated the mass sat, and Honey and Leroy on the chairs to the sides, generally reserved for the seminarians who helped during the celebration. He had taken the table out of the way with his powers and stored it in a cellar, in case it was needed again. During those last three weeks that they had been using the cathedral as a base, Ace had given some speeches there. The light coming from the windows illuminated his face and the crucifix behind him made him feel a kind of power that he could not describe. Also, the main chair was wide, tall, and shiny. It would have looked like a throne if it were covered in some golden metal...

Stop it.

“I think no one else is coming,” said Leroy. “we better get out of here. These chairs are uncomfortable.”

“Use a cushion, like me,” Honey commented, proudly displaying the small cushion she had placed on the chair to make it easier to sit.

Leroy couldn’t look more disgusted. “Why would you put your ass on the same cushion you use to sleep?”

As his allies began to argue again, Ace put his arms on the sides of the chair, focusing on the immense doors of the cathedral.

As far as they knew, Ace was waiting for recruits. It was a fairly common thing to happen. Many prodigies (like the simp and his henchmen) had been flocking to the cathedral, seeking help, acceptance, or a chance to prove themselves worthy of being within Ace's close circle. It was a bit tiring at times, but at the moment he couldn't afford to turn them away without even bothering to see what their powers were. If he knew something, it was that no power could not be taken advantage of in some way, and if that way could benefit him, the better.

But at dusk, the chances of people coming to the cathedral began to disappear, because at night the city became dangerous. Thus, Ace knew that he would not receive any new potential recruits until the next morning, and he knew that his allies need to rest and eat something.

However, he also knew that David could be the one to walk through that door at any moment.

Ace was still furious with him. He probably would be furious with him for the rest of his life. David was a condescending, deluded guy who didn't bother to think outside the box for the good of those who were like them.

But at the end of the day, that guy was his blood (whoever he liked it or not) and he wanted to make sure he was still alive.

David Artino would never miss an opportunity to exercise his authority as an older brother and scold him for the first reason that crossed his mind. He could see him hiding like a mole in some hole in the city, losing his mind to the chaos that his younger brother was slowly planting in every corner of planet Earth.

However, he could also see him being killed in the street by an angry horde who knew he was a prodigy, or by a group of policemen who mistook him for one of the hundreds of protesters that had filled the city, and although the thought made him uncomfortable, it might be best if things stayed that way.

After all, if David went out to the real world, the world that was out there right now would probably kick him to the ground, take out his eyes, and eat them before stabbing him and letting him there to die.

Yes, things should stay that way. With Ace Anarchy alive and building the world as it must have been from the start, and with the Artino brothers dead, buried in a sealed tomb from which not even their souls could escape.

He was about to stand up when someone knocked on the door. Honey’s bees, which had been quietly resting on the church pews, began to buzz like watchdogs barking at the presence of a stranger.

Alec knew those four knocks.

Honey and Leroy suddenly fell silent and settled into their chairs almost unconsciously. Ace put on his helmet and then, with a wave of his hand, he slightly opened the cathedral door.

His hair was longer than normal. He recognized the same coat he was wearing the last time he saw him, but he had changed his pajama bottoms for faded jeans. He had a mysterious blow to the head and the deepest circles under his eyes he had ever seen. That, plus that unkempt beard, made Ace even more certain that, had he seen him on the street, he probably wouldn't have recognized him.

At least until he saw his blue eyes. David had unmistakable blue eyes.

“Good evening, fellow anarchist,” Ace greeted from his seat. “How can we help you?”

David gripped the door and frowned. “Alec?”

The bees buzzed louder and Honey turned to see him. “Do you know him?”

Leroy and his toxic green eyes seemed to ask the same question.

“You don't want to mention that name here,” Ace warned, ignoring his allies. “Seriously.”

David did not reply. Not that he expected him to. “Come in,” he assured him, nodding slightly. “Us Anarchists are willing to help any prodigy. We fight for all of them. Even for those who prefer to give in to the system that oppresses us in the first place. "

His allies fell silent. Ace knew he wasn't going to be wrong about them; they were fully aware that their opinion was not necessary at that time.

David's old sneakers squeaked on the marble floor of the church. The white shoelaces were stained with dark blood. “I… I looked for you everywhere,” he muttered.

“I didn't go anywhere,” he replied. “I was always here.”

He resisted the childish urge to ask where he had been, precisely because that was it. Childish. Something that only a kid would do.

And Alec James Artino, the kid, was dead.

David reached the first step of the altar and Ace stood up. “Don’t.”

His brother stopped before taking another step. He even stepped back and put his hands to his chest, as if his heart had ached at that simple word.

You see? Weak.

“I'm not here to take you anywhere,” he assured.

Ace gave a mocking laugh. “So?”

“I'm here to join you.”

The smile faded from Ace’s face. However, he did not interpret it as a sign of weakness, because immediately, he was able to recover from the blow and remain expressionless as his brother's gaze pierced his like stakes.

Even with him there, right in front of Ace, standing in the middle of the cathedral, he knew that David didn't belong there. He was not an Anarchist like them. Something was missing. Maybe courage. Maybe it was determination.

Perhaps what he lacked was that spark of life that rage gave when it started a fire in the depths of your gut.

So why bother?

Before the question slipped from his lips, the answer came to his head and it all made sense to him.

Ace was right. The day anarchy was born, the Artino brothers had died, but there was no one alive to bury them. The ghost of David Artino had spent days searching for his only remaining family, wandering around town like a beggar.

Because deep down, he needed him more than Alec had ever needed David.

How did he explain that the little brother he was looking for was dead, and now only the man he had become remained?

He knew how to explain it, but David was stubborn. Even if Ace chose the most appropriate words for the situation, he could never make him see things the way he wanted him to. At least not if he knew Alec was dead.

He did not know that in an ideal world, the only one still alive was Ace Anarchy.

It wasn't the perfect scenario, but the perfect thing about that scenario was that David didn't need to know that just yet. Alec's ghost could come out of his grave as many times as necessary and Ace could use that to his advantage for as long as he wanted.

That would make the ghost David very happy. And if David was happy and he could take advantage of that happiness, then Ace would be happy too.

Ace removed his helmet and laid it gently on his chair. When he returned his gaze to David, his eyes were full of tears.

He also tried to cry, but couldn't. Therefore, he decided to extend his arms and allow David to stumble his way to him, giving him the strongest hug he had ever received while stroking his hair and sobbing: “I missed you so much, my little nightmare.”

Alec took Ace by the arms and placed them on David's shaking back. “I missed you too.”

But he was lying. He wondered if ghost David was lying too.

He better not.

***

I wasn't born to walk on water,

I wasn't born to sack and slaughter,

but on my soul, I wasn't born

to stoop, to scorn, and knuckle under.

A man can learn to steal some thunder.

A man can learn to work some wonder.

Year 4, month 7

When it all started, Ace did not like to think of himself as a leader. At least not a leader like the previous ones. God, just thinking about becoming one of those who used to rule the world before he turned things around made him feel sick.

However, over time he grew tired of explaining to each of those who arrived, full of desire to prove something (to the world, to Ace, and themselves), that he was not a leader as such. Little by little, he started to ignore those types of comments and just let himself go with the flow.

At least until David noticed his unconformity with the matter and approach him to talk about it.

It was a couple of months after he arrived. Ace was saying his prayers before going to bed when someone knocked on his door.

Four times. As always.

He quickly crossed himself and muttered, “Come in.”

David came in, holding a candle and wrapped in a robe that "the simps" had given to Leroy (it hadn't fit him, but David was so malnourished that it was like the robe had been made for him.)

Ace put on his robe too. “How can I help you?”

David fixed his gaze on the figure of the Virgin Mary that Ace had on a ledge. “Were you praying?”

“Of course,” he answered, feeling a little defensive.

David scoffed. “Wow.”

“What?”

“I thought ... I thought you didn't do it anymore.”

Ace rolled his eyes and pretended to arrange the covers on his bed (they didn't need to be arranged, he was very meticulous about that matter). “How can I help you?” he repeated.

David finally took his eyes off the Virgin Mary and turned to see him.

It surprised him he still had bags under his eyes. He thought that now that he slept in a decent bed, ate decent food, and no longer had to go through the same stressful situations that he went through before, his face would start to look more youthful again.

Maybe the bags under one’s eyes were like expression or acne marks. They would always be there.

Just like experiences.

Then David started talking to him. A lot. About how he had noticed his discomfort when people called him a leader. About him believing that he shouldn't feel that way because being placed in such a position was completely expected and even natural for it to happen. (“Don't interrupt me.” “I wasn't going to.” Oh, but he was going to.) About if he really wanted things to work out, the world was going to need someone to guide it down the path of good, and David did not doubt that someone was Ace.

They spent several hours just ranting about it. There was a point where the two of them were lying on his bed, Ace covered by his red blanket and David tightly holding a pillow against his chest. The candle was getting smaller and smaller, and David had chosen to place it next to the figure of The Virgin Mary as if it had been lit for her from the beginning.

Only that there was a God who saw everything, and that God knew that the candle had not been lit for her.

Ace was staring at the wooden ceiling when David told him, “I could never be a leader.”

“Why?”

Obviously Ace knew that David could never be a leader, but he wanted to know why his brother thought that way.

David clung to the pillow tighter. He wasn't looking at the ceiling; he looked at Ace. Sideways, but he was looking at him. “I don’t know. I think it's just not my… personality. Even when the guys and I were out there doing the… protests and stuff, I never led any of them,” he explained. “I've always been more of a follower.”

Ace did not answer. Yet he hoped David would interpret his silence as a sign that he had agreed with him.

“But on the other hand, you... Alec, you are a leader.”

His jaw clenched when he heard his name. He had to work on it. “What makes you think that?”

“Because… seriously, why wouldn’t you be a leader?” He turned around so he could look at him and Ace felt obligated to turn to see him as well. Only that he decided not to. “People look after you. They know you are a leader and they follow you. See how much you've changed in a matter of weeks. Inadvertently, you have led people up to this point in history. No one had ever come this far. No one except you.”

Then, Ace couldn't take it anymore and turned to meet his brother's eyes. “But won't that make me like everyone else?”

“Everyone else?” asked a very confused David.

Because David never understood anything.

“Like all the other leaders,” he replied, trying not to lose patience. “Leaders who are corrupt and selfish and—“ His brother interrupted his monologue with laughter. Much to someone who had complained when he tried to cut him off in the middle of a ridiculously long explanation. “—What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” David replied smiling. “It’s just… forget it.” He put a hand on his cheek and kept laughing underneath. “Alec, you’re not going to be like the other leaders.”

“And how are you so sure of that?” he asked a little louder than he wanted to.

David hardly seemed to notice. “Because you are not like that. You are not evil.” He sighed. “Now… there is the potential for evil everywhere, but the only way to combat it’s if more people choose goodness. If more people choose heroism. And you… you are one of those people. I am sure.”

And with those words, the candle extinguished, and Ace decided that it was time for both of them to go to sleep. He allowed David to stay the night. It was not like he had given any sign of wanting to go back to his room anyway. Ace spent most of the night awake, but not necessarily because his older brother's snoring kept him from sleeping.

What kept him from sleeping was thinking that maybe... maybe he was right. Maybe Ace did have to start taking the role of leader. After all, human beings were like that. They were always looking for someone to follow, someone they could cling to that would protect them in some way or another. That someone could be the parents. Older brothers. God himself.

But sometimes that someone was not looking for what was best for them. For example, Ace and David's parents never made the slightest effort to hide how much they hated their children. He was still a kid when his brother took him by the hand, put a coat on him, and told his parents that they were going out to the park. Ace didn't want to go to the park; he wanted to stay home to play with his wooden cubes, but David told him that if he went to the park with him, he would give him a surprise on the way home.

However, they passed the park and David went to a clothing and suitcase store that was near the dock where various boats full of tourists departed. On his way out, he bought his younger brother a lollipop and two one-way tickets to Gatlon City.

They never looked for them. Although if they had, he doubted they would have found them.

For a long time, Ace didn't fully understand what had happened. He just knew that he was never going to see his parents again. Regardless, it was not a thought that haunted him. After all, he hated his parents. And he didn't feel bad about it. Ace had David. David would never hurt him in any way.

At least that's how it was until he grew up. He grew up and realized that David had lied and stolen to get them out of Italy. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing; they would never have survived in Italy anyway. The bad thing was when David lied to him and robbed him for his own benefit. He lied to him about Gatlon's hate towards prodigies and he stole money from his savings when what he earned wasn't enough to pay the monthly rent on his apartment.

And then… there was God.

God existed. Clearly. It was one of the few things Ace didn't feel like he needed proof for. However… God hadn't always been there for him. God had been used as a weapon for hundreds of years to attack prodigies like Ace...

Yes, God was not going to save him. He wasn't going to save any of the millions and millions of prodigies that were counting on Ace Anarchy. God was not a hero.

But Ace could be.

So from that day on, Ace began to be the head in practically all the operations that the Anarchists carried out. Nothing happened without him finding out and approving it first. He recorded numerous videos and wrote dozens of speeches that they would use to spread his word around the world. Prodigies from all countries began to rise against their respective governments, and although some of them gave them what they wanted, the vast majority made the mistake of underestimating them and denying their more than reasonable requests.

Because, well, Ace didn't find anything outrageous about a bunch of people asking their governments to recognize their basic human rights.

Sometimes the prodigies of those places could take down their governments by themselves. However, on a couple of occasions, Ace had to travel to those places to give them a hand. They weren't too far away, so Ace could use his powers to transport himself there, and he still had enough strength left to turn the helicopters and tanks that they sent to try to finish him into unusable pieces of metal. There wasn’t a single place where he had not succeeded, and there was not a single place where people did not make him a symbol and call him a hero.

Not even a single one.

That was why he did not understand people who wanted to leave the trenches.

The first time people from the cathedral had explicitly told him that they wanted to resign were the Benitez twins, Fénix and Tritón. He was a water elemental and she was a fire elemental, who had fought alongside Ace and hundreds of other prodigies like him when they took over the government palace of their country and liberated the population. They were young but strong, like most of those who joined the cause. They spent a year and six months helping on missions that Ace, Honey, or even Leroy assigned them, and never received anything other than good comments from their superiors...

“Then why do you want to leave?” Honey asked them.

She, Leroy, the twins, and he were in what had been the bishop's office after he summoned them all to a meeting where they would assess the situation. Not because he felt a special affection for them; they weren't too different from the other people Ace had in charge of. He just wanted to know why and approve the situation.

Like he always did.

Tritón smiled charmingly at Honey. He and his twin sister had the same curly black hair, but she never smiled. “As we said before… it's nothing personal,” he replied. “Fénix and I were never mistreated here, but... we want to find our own way in life.”

Honey and Leroy turned to see each other. Leroy looked quite indifferent to the situation as if he wished to be in his lab, looking for new ways to finish burning his eyebrows, while Honey seemed quite suspicious regarding the true intentions behind Tritón's words and Fénix's deadly silence.

Ace stood up and looked out the window.

“Are you going back to Mexico?”

“Yes. But not to the same place we came from.”

“And how are you going to—“

“Stop overwhelming them with so many questions, my Queen,” Ace interrupted while turning around. “They are old enough to make their own decisions.”

Tritón sighed in relief, and Fénix didn't even look up to see him. “They had already packed their things, apparently,” and he pointed to the backpacks they were carrying. The same ones with which they had arrived at the cathedral.

“Yes, it's just… we didn't want to make a big fuss about our departure,” Tritón replied. “We want it to be respectful and press-free, please.”

That comment managed to make him smile slightly. “I see no reason to keep you as prisoners,” he said, addressing Honey and Leroy. “If they want to leave, they can.”

Leroy raised his only remaining eyebrow. “Can they?”

“They can,” he repeated. He turned slightly to continue staring out the window. It was a lovely day out there. “Wanting to look for something more than what we are capable of offering is a valid reason to leave.”

“Not that we’re filling like something’s missing here,” Tritón said. “On the contrary, we have never been more… blessed. We promise that we will always keep in mind all the things the Anarchist taught us. We will be on your side even if it is from a distance.”

Now it was Honey's turn to raise an eyebrow. “I don't know, this is too—“

“Excuse me, Queen Bee,” Tritón interrupted, “but ... we're in a bit of a rush.”

“An ally has promised to take us to the border in his truck,” Fénix said, speaking for the first time during the entire conversation. “He's going to pick us up in an hour and it's a long way to the meeting point.

Ace looked through the window to find David welcoming some of the prodigies who had come out to find more supplies for the cathedral. He pointed out where they were being kept and offered to help them carry some boxes up the stairs.

Ace had to go to check on that.

“Acey...”

“Take care of yourselves, Tritón and Fénix,” Ace said, heading for the exit. “Thank you very much for your loyalty. Let me show you the door.”

The twins looked at each other, immediately nodding slowly and leaving the room, walking in front of Ace, shoulder to shoulder, and muttering something. As they walked down the stairs, Ace was too busy thinking about the new shipment that had arrived to care about their conversation, until he tried to overhear them and realized they were speaking in Spanish.

They never spoke Spanish. Not in the cathedral. No one could have understood them if they did. What was the point of hiding something?

Unless they are hiding something.

He turned his attention back to the backpacks they carried. Yes, they were the same ones that they had brought the first day they arrived, but now they seemed fuller than before. And when Ace said fuller, he meant it. Those backpacks were about to explode.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The twins kept walking as if they hadn't realized that Ace was no longer with them. Honey and Leroy caught up with him, while Honey was saying something about this situation making her babies (the bees) very nervous, and she knew that was a bad sign. Leroy replied that those "babies" should take a Xanax, but he didn't sound too convinced of his words either.

Fénix took his brother's hand and Tritón looked back, making contact with Ace's dark eyes.

The backpacks. The backpacks were too full.

Ace used his powers to rip them off their shoulders, at the same time he grabbed them from the collars of their clothes and lifted them like a mother lioness would have carried her cubs. The two cried out in shock but fell silent when they came face to face with Ace.

Neither of them said anything. Not even Tritón. They only held on tighter by the hand as Ace opened their backpacks, dropped their contents on the floor, and revealed that they were carrying, along with their personal belongings, tons of food and hygiene items taken directly from the cathedral warehouse.

The warehouse that David was supposed to watch.

“My bracelet!” Honey exclaimed. “That... bitch was taking my bracelet!”

A group of bees returned the bracelet to her queen. Honey thanked them in a low voice and immediately, her face was completely changed by her anger. “How dare you?” she asked Fénix putting a finger on her chest. “How dare you disrespect me like that ?! Is that how you were going to pay the man who was going to take you to the border!?” But Fénix didn’t say anything. Again. “Answer me!”

“More like how dare you!” Fénix suddenly yelled. Honey took a step back from shock. “How dare you take everything from people who have nothing!”

“Fénix... por favor...” Tritón whispered.

“Shut the fuck up, Diego!” she yelled at his brother. “Tell me, Harper! How do you sleep at night?” she kept asking. “How do you sleep at night knowing that you have helped destroy the world as we know it? How can you reason that what you’re doing is right?!”

“Eleonor! Eleonor, por favor!”

Fénix started to try to free herself from Ace's grip, but that only made Ace cling tighter to the collar of her blouse. “How dare you even think you’re the good guys?”

Then, she looked him dead in the eye and spat, “How dare you call yourself a hero, Alec Artino?”

Ace thought hearing his name was going to make him lose his mind. Yet some way or another, his face remained expressionless. Even when Honey slapped the shit out of Fénix and the bees began to fly around her, stinging every bit of skin that wasn’t covered by her clothes. He also remained expressionless when he heard Tritón yell at Honey to leave her sister alone, calling her a "pinche vieja bruja" in the process, or when Leroy (who didn't understand anything, but knew it wasn't a compliment) held both of his wrists to prevent it from forming a wave of water that would drown all the bees instantly. It did not cause him anything at all to hear the poison melting Tritón's skin, making him cry in pain, or Fénix yelling and cursing.

And he didn’t even flinch when he broke Tritón's neck. Or when he left Fénix alive just the exact amount of time for her to process what her actions had caused to the only family she had left before breaking her neck too.

Ace dropped what was left of the Benitez twins. The bees moved away from the body and returned to Honey as if they were children hiding in their mother's skirts after having been lost for hours in the market, and Leroy let go of Tritón’s wrists without saying a word. Ace looked around and realized that a big amount of people had watched the entire scene from a distance.

One of those people had been David.

At that moment, Honey's bracelet fell off her hands. Ace picked it up with his powers and Honey whispered, "Thanks, Acey". She tried to put it on, but her hands were shaking so much that Leroy reached out (reluctantly) to help her adjust the clasp.

She didn't take her eyes off the corpses. “Someone come pick them up,” Leroy ordered.

Ace pointed to the first group of people he encountered. “You,” he barked. The trio of anarchists trembled slightly. “You’ve heard Cyanide. Clean up this mess.”

He turned to tell Leroy and Honey to go with him to the office, but they had already made their way to Honey's quarters, while she was babbling about something insignificant and a cloud of agitated bees followed them. David was also not where he had last seen him, but found him turning his back on him and putting the supply crates in the warehouse.

The warehouse that was his responsibility. The warehouse that the Benitez twins had managed to steal from it without anyone noticing.

David couldn’t stay there. He would have to get him a new position, the sooner the better.

Being a hero was not doing things that everyone considered right. Being a hero was to be a revolutionary, one who was willing to make sacrifices to protect the people who were on his side. Especially when those sacrifices meant the death of traitors who only sought their own benefit, completely forgetting the rest of them.

To protect the people who were on his side. Not the enemy. Never the common good.

The common good was not something Ace believed in, because that would mean looking after his oppressors, and they had never looked after prodigies at any point in human history.

Why start doing it now that the tables have turned?

Perhaps those thoughts made him more than just a revolutionary. Ace was probably a visionary.

But did those thoughts make him a villain too?

***

And soon the moon will smolder,

and the winds will drive.

Yes, a man grows older, but his soul remains alive.

All those tremulous stars will glitter,

and I will survive!

Year 10, month 11

For a lot of people, the answer was yes.

Being a visionary was the same as being a villain.

No one had ever said that to his face, but Ace knew it was what they were thinking. He saw it on the journalist’s faces, who came from time to time to the cathedral to report the latest advances in some important mission or some notable event. He felt it in the air of the cathedral, where some of his allies bent down every time they saw him as if they were not worthy to look him in the eye. He felt it every time he looked at his brother's expressionless eyes, working in the basement that served as a workshop where he created weapons for the Anarchists.

However, none of those silent reproaches mattered to him. Ace knew what he was doing was the right thing. Even if that made him not fit into the perfect image society had in its head of what a hero should be.

Ace had learned that there were no heroes or villains. Not like everyone thought.

The world would one day understand it as well as he did. But in the meanwhile, he had to sit down and observe that embarrassing spectacle.

They had managed to fix the TV that was at the former’s bishop's office. The only channels that were still actually broadcasting anything, besides the same old shows over and over again, were the news channels. But then he decided to do it just when it was absolutely necessary, for example, when they lied or got too close to a truth the public didn't need to know.

After all, freedom of speech was a human right.

Leroy was sat on the comfy chair Honey always sat on when they were in Ace's office. David offered Honey his chair and she said that she expected no less from someone as chivalrous as him (“Definitely some men should start taking your example”), but then added he shouldn’t worry about it, Ace was surely going to allow her to sit on his desk. Ace didn't see why not. She even brought her pillow with her. She put it over the desk, at the exact place she was going to sit on, and had her eyes fixated on the TV like she were a little girl watching colorful cartoons.

They were broadcasting from the West Zone of the city. An Anarchist truck was on fire in the background of the image. The trio of prodigies that Ace himself had sent to exchange some weapons for medicines with the usual gangs they always trade with, were tied with a chrome chain as if they were animals. The sky was still blue, but the evening light made the clouds turn orange and illuminated the faces of the two figures standing at the base that held the statue of a man with a copper-colored helmet.

Ace had never seen that monument as an ode to himself. He didn’t even know it was there until David told him about it, after going out to the city to visit that girlfriend of his. It seemed that some prodigies had come together and built it on their own. They hadn't left a signature or a way to prove who were they, but they did leave a golden plaque that read: "Long live to anarchy".

To anarchy. Not him. He was just the face they had given it.

He thought that everyone would think the same, but apparently, that pair didn't see it that way.

Because again, apparently, that pair shared a single brain cell.

One of them had brown skin and his cape flapped in the wind. His entire body looked slightly translucent, probably due to the nervousness that caused him to have that many people looking at him. Ace had met enough prodigies to identify when their powers gave away their mood. However, most of the general public would not be able to know exactly what he was feeling, because a black mask covered most of his facial features and he was not saying a single word.

He was terrified.

Poor little thing… sure.

The other was blond and his eyes were full of courage. The more words that came out of his mouth, the more his cheeks turn red and the tighter he clenched his fists. He was also wearing a mask, but even someone less observant than Ace could tell exactly what he was feeling.

“…and now this!” he yelled at the crowd. “Now this statue! A statue in the middle of the city, as if having experienced firsthand all the misfortunes that his anarchist reign has brought to our lives has not been enough, now he wants to constantly remind us that he won. He won—” His voice cracked, and he tried to hide it by coughing. Honey burst out laughing. “—and he will keep winning until someone stops him!”

The boy in the cape put his hand on the monument. “You know what this reminds me of? It reminds me of loss.” He became invisible and within seconds, he was sitting on the statue's outstretched arm. “Because Ace Anarchy has taken away from us so many things—” He jumped off and fell gracefully onto the base again “—that he took our fear with him.”

“That’s why we are here,” the other continued. “We are fed up with Ace Anarchy and his government, and I'm sure you are too.” He took a deep breath and smiled at the nearest camera. “But we don't blame you if you still don't understand. There is nothing wrong with being paralyzed with fear. That is what Ace Anarchy has wanted us to do during these ten years that he has been in power. The good news is that there is a cure for fear, and that cure is hope.”

A young, dark-skinned reporter pushed her way through the crowd. Her microphone had a number five printed on it, and Ace recognized the channel immediately.

He had killed one of its journalists after she refused to stop digging graves. He had to do it; if she dug too much, she would surely have found Alec Artino's body.

After all, freedom of speech was a human right. Messing up with the dead was just a quicker way for you to end up like them.

“Georgia Rawles, for Channel Five,” the reporter said with a heavy breath. “I think we're all asking ourselves the same question about—” She tried to search for the correct words, but the time was running out and she couldn’t find it, so she sighed and just blurted out, “Who are you?”

Leroy rolled his eyes. “More reporters like her, please...” he mumbled sarcastically.

She handed the microphone to the one with the cape. For a few seconds, he was almost completely invisible, but the insistence of the reporter Rawles brought him back to reality and his voice did not tremble as his legs did when he said: “We are that hope.”

The other boy tapped Georgia Rawles’ shoulder and she swiftly passed him the microphone.

He never stopped smiling. “We are the Renegades.”

Georgia Rawles drew back slightly. He couldn’t tell whether her expression was one of horror or joy because right after replying, the boy smashed the monument to anarchy with a single blow and turned it into pieces.

They both jumped from the base before the monument could crash them. Dread Warden and Captain Chromium ran towards the city, without any reporter bothering to follow them.

Ace turned off the television with his powers, and for about five seconds, neither of them spoke.

“They're not good at picking aliases,” Honey spat out of nowhere.

“So that’s the problem you have with this?” Leroy blurted out.

“Dread Warden… that has nothing to do with his powers,” Honey explained as if she were explaining to a five-year-old why the sky is blue. “And Captain Chromium is too… cheesy to be a real alias. Are we sure they were serious when they gave their names to the reporters from the first channel that arrived on the scene?” She cleared her throat and said (trying so hard to imitate the voice of a teenage boy whose voice hadn’t change yet), “He won,” before burst out laughing again.

“How mature of you…” David muttered.

“Do you have something to say, brother?” Ace asked.

For a second, he thought that David would not answer him, as he had been doing lately whenever he asked him that question. However, this time he did not remain silent and turned to see him. Not in the eyes, of course. “Actually, I do.”

Ace leaned back in his chair. “Go ahead then.”

“I don't think we should take this lightly.”

Honey scoffed. “Who says we are taking this lightly? The invisible twink and his lesbian boyfriend hate us, so what? They’re not the first ones, like… get in line, girl.”

“Well, you don’t seem too worried about the whole situation, to be honest.”

“It's because Honey doesn't shut up about the names thing, right?” Leroy asked in a slightly teasing tone.

“It's just my marketing major talking,” Honey said, slightly kicking him, barefoot. “I know about branding and stuff.”

“You dropped out.”

She put on her left heel and kicked Leroy. “You too!”

David massaged his temple. Ace turned around in his rotating chair and looked out the window. The sky had turned the same color as the clouds.

“Alec,” David called him. “It seems like… they—the Renegades think of themselves as heroes, and… they see you as the villain. I don't know, they could be a real threat, you shouldn't ignore them.”

Ace really wanted to tell David to just go back to his workshop. What did he know? They were just a couple of children who had destroyed a monument, who hadn't even been able to reveal their true identities and hid the entire time behind their masks, like criminals.

They were not a real threat.

But then, the seventeen-year-old Ace Anarchy appeared on the other side of the window, challenging him to finish that sentence inside his head. The seventeen-year-old Ace Anarchy who had dismantled entire governments and liberated millions of prodigies simply by wearing that helmet and its powers.

And when Ace blinked again, it was no longer the dark eyes of his old self that were staring at him from the glass, but the gray eyes of Captain Chromium, with that smug and arrogant smile, that he used to charm the cameras moments ago, passing his fingers through his hair as if his life depended on it.

Ace couldn’t look away from him.

He resembled Ace, but it was not enough. The old Ace didn't smile at his oppressors and he didn't have an unhealthy obsession with his hair either. He did not seek to protect people to win their affection, because he didn’t care if people like him or not, he knew he was doing the right thing.

The old Ace was not a kid playing to be a superhero, because superheroes didn't exist in the first place.

When he blinked, none of them were there anymore. Just his present self.

He smiled at himself to regain confidence.

Ace had learned that there were no heroes or villains. Captain Chromium was going to have to learn it too, and soon. Ace was willing to be the one to teach him that lesson.

And he would, whether he liked it or not.

***

There was a dream, a dying ember.

There was a dream, I don't remember,

but I will resurrect that dream,

though rivers stream and hills grow steeper.

For here in hell where life gets cheaper.

Oh, here in hell the blood runs deeper!

And when the final duel is near, I'll lift my spear and fly!

Year 20, month 5

The main difference between Ace and his brother was that David always fled at the first sign of danger. Always.

When the boys at his school began to suspect that he was a prodigy, David skipped school for weeks, getting his clothes dirty enough to make it look like he had spent breaks running after a ball along with his bullies. When his mother slapped him with the hot metal spoon, yelling he would not eat dinner that night, they both hid in the closet of his room, while David hugged him tightly and sobbed, telling him he rather be dead. When his father came home from work a few hours later and almost killed him, David took them both out of that house and out of Italy.

He said it was because he knew that the next beating would be the last and that when he was gone, Mr. Artino was going to focus all his anger on Alec, who would end up having the same fate as David. He didn't want that for his little nightmare.

What he didn't count on was that if Ace had been in his place, he would have turned around and slammed the bullies into the concrete wall of the school. He would have endured hunger and weariness with dignity and would have killed his father before he could touch a single one of his hairs. Ace wouldn't have turned his back on his problems. Ace would have fought for himself, just as for twenty years he had been fighting for all prodigies.

And now this.

He always knew that David didn't have what it took to be an anarchist. He was too deep in his own thoughts to even make an effort to listen to him. Ace had decided not to bother to explain to him the whole situation because there was no force on Earth able to change his mind anyway, and he had much more important things to worry about.

They were both sitting in the tiny white dining room in the apartment where he, Tala, and the girls lived. Ace had arrived unexpectedly so she had put more water to boil because the one they had put in for breakfast had cooled down. She apologized for the inconvenience, but he assured her that there was no problem, she could take all the time she needed. David had a cup of cold tea in his hands. He had never lost that disgusting habit of biting his nails.

No, David was not an anarchist. But Ace never thought he was a traitor.

Not until now.

The kettle began to boil at the same time the baby cried from the other room.

Tala turned off the stove and Ace could tell she was debating between pouring his tea or going to see what was going on.

“Don't worry,” Ace said walking towards her, “I'll serve it, you go take care of your daughter. Would you like me to make one for you too? "

He knew he intimidated people, but Tala took it to another level. She looked at her feet the whole time, her hands were shaking and she didn’t even answer the question before running into the next room, where Nova was complaining about her little sister's cries.

Ace took another splintered mug from the cupboard. With his powers, of course. The place looked clean (they probably spent a lot of time cleaning for lack of other hobbies), but he didn't trust them. “I've always said it: Tala is a lovely woman,” he said.

David didn't even flinch.

He had never been good at hiding his feelings.

“How does she like her tea?”

“Uh?”

He put his hands behind his back and opened the jar where they kept the chamomile tea. “How does Tala like tea?” he asked again.

David finally came back to reality. “Oh… three of sugar. She likes to add three spoons of sugar.”

Ace tried his best not to roll his eyes. I see this wife of yours wants to give herself cavities.

By the time the tea was served, the baby had stopped crying and Tala left the room again, with Nova following her. “Uncle Alec!”

David and Tala turned to see her with a single exclamation on their lips.

No.

But they didn't say anything. It was too late. Nova was already hugging his legs and Ace was stroking her strands of poorly cut hair. “Good morning, Nova, how are you?”

“Terrible,” Nova replied in all honesty. “Evie has been si—“

“Tala, Alec made you some tea,” David interrupted suddenly.

“Oh, that’s true.” He levitated the cup towards her and couldn't help but smile when he saw her recoil as the cup approached her, wondering if this was how she would see the barrel of a pistol approaching her forehead. “With three tablespoons of sugar. Just the way you like it.”

For the first time, Tala looked at him. “I don't like my tea with sugar,” she said in a calm voice. She shot David a stern look. “I thought we have talked about it.”

David looked so... small and weak. “I forgot about it. I'm sorry.”

But that "I'm sorry" didn't sound at all like the "I'm sorry" someone says when the only wrong they've done is forgetting how their wife prepares her tea.

It was the "sorry" of a traitor.

It was the "sorry" that Ace was waiting to receive.

Then he held out the other cup. “I apologize, that was my mistake. Take this cup then. I don't like to add sugar to my tea either.”

Tala accepted the cup. She took a sip and Ace recognized that micro-expression of disgust as she felt the hot chamomile water touch her palate.

It didn't surprise him that she had lied to him. That whole family was full of liars.

Nova turned to see her dad, laughing as only a child could laugh. “Oh, silly papà…” she said, hiding her head in his uncle's neck.

David smiled almost imperceptibly and raised his arms slightly so that Nova could run into them.

It reminded him a lot of when he wanted Alec to run into his arms.

But, like Alec, Nova didn't go to him. She liked being in her uncle's arms. “Oh, silly papà” Ace repeated. “Silly, silly papà...”

And the imperceptible smile disappeared completely.

“What were you saying, Nova?” he asked. "Moments ago. Are you having a terrible day? "

Nova knew immediately what he was talking about. She wasn't too busy drowning in the bitter taste of her lies. “It's just that Evie hasn't stopped crying for days,” she exclaimed with a face of pure exasperation. “We have given her everything, but nothing calms her down, and I always have to—”

“Alec, I have to tell you something.”

David had stood up and his fists were clenched on the splintered table. His knuckles had turned white and his bushy eyebrows betrayed the real nervousness behind all that facade of sternness.

He was so pleased by the image that he didn't even comment on how inappropriate it was to interrupt a woman when she was giving her point of view on something, or when Tala took advantage of this seemingly distracting moment to snatch Nova from his arms.

That was the moment. David was going to ask for forgiveness. He was going to break as he had broken that night when they were hidden inside the closet and just as he had begged his abusive father before he smashed his head against the nightstand. He would tell him that he regretted betraying him and that from now on, he would agree with him on everything. He would accept that he had never been anything but a coward who escaped trouble at the first opportunity and would run into Ace’s arms one more time.

That was the time for David to choose Ace as the god to whom he would pray for mercy.

That was the moment.

But of course, it would have been too dangerous. Therefore, he was not at all surprised, when he looked down at his teacup again and blurted out, “Evelyn has been very ill, and… we have run out of options. You know I wouldn't bother you with this if it wasn't important, but I wanted to know if… you know.”

“If I could get some medicine for Evelyn?”

David nodded energetically. “That's right.”

Ace pretended to stop to think about it. He wanted to see the desperation in his eyes and wanted him to suffer at the thought that he might never get the much-needed medicine for his little daughter.

He wanted David to suffer in every possible way he could, and when he thought it was going to break, Ace replied, “I think I have a contact that could help us with it.”

“When will you—”

“And with that medicine, Evie is finally going to stop crying?”

Now it was Nova's turn to interrupt him. If he weren't so blinded by the pain he wanted to inflict on his brother, he probably would have had found the act of Nova being the one interrupting her father delightful.

Tala tried to hide Nova with her arms when Ace approached them, but it was useless because he used his powers to gently pull Nova towards him, making her laugh out loud at the feeling that the levitation caused in her entire body. “I assure you, Nova, that with that medicine Evie will stop crying,” he replied, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “But in the meantime, you have to help your mom and papà, and keep doing what you say you do to calm her down. Now… how do you calm down your little sister?”

“I put her to sleep.”

David threw down a chair and ran over to Nova. Ace felt like she had been snatched from his arms again.

Having the two of them there, side by side, made him more aware of how similar they looked. Although Nova had always been a perfect mix of her two parents, Ace was much of the idea that one could know a lot about a person by looking into their eyes.

Nova had the same eyes as her father, but without the golden details that gave away the stardust that David was able to manipulate since birth.

The fact that their eyes were very similar but not identical could mean a lot of things. Perhaps it was that Nova had the worst quality of her mother and the only prodigious thing inside her was the half of the blood that ran through her veins. It would be a shame. The world did not need the oppressors to continue to reproduce with the oppressed and to gradually extinguish the spark with their inferior genes each prodigy had. It was only one of the thousand ways in which they were slowly annihilating them.

However, it could also mean that Nova was not like David, but not in the sense of being or not being a prodigy. Maybe those golden sparks were actually that her brother's soul had been born rusty and that was what would never allow him to see the world as Ace did. Instead, Nova did her name justice and could symbolize a new beginning for them, much like the supernova that granted them their powers had been.

For a second, she saw Nova not as a child, but as raw and pure potential.

Did he know? Was David aware of how precious was what his rough hands were holding?

“She sings her to sleep,” he explained hastily. “Nova loves spending time with her little sister, and she loves carrying her. Whenever she cries she insists that we let her hold her and that always calms her down. It is like—”

“Magic?”

David hesitated. “Yes… magic.”

Nova played with the collar of her dad's shirt, thinking about God knows what, until something made click inside her brain. “Uncle Ace!”

“Yes, Nova?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but David silenced her with a severe look.

Ace offered Tala his help with washing the dishes before leaving. He assured them that he would be back as soon as possible and asked Nova to kiss little Evie goodnight for him. He gave Tala a quick (and unrequited) kiss on the cheek and a handshake to David.

The same hands that could have defended themselves from the abusers, that could have stopped the burning spoon before it slapped him, and those that could have wrapped around their father's neck before blood stained the old carpet in the room.

He decided that there would be no survivors. Not even the ghost of David.

David always ran from danger, but now he was the danger that could destroy what it took Ace years to build. Ace wasn't running from him. Ace noticed it, faced it, and defeated it.

Because, in the end, Ace Anarchy was the real danger.

***

Piercing into the sky and higher, 

and the strong will thrive.

Yes, the weak will cower while the fittest will survive

If we wait for the darkest hour,

'till we spring alive...

He had already been to the dome of the cathedral on other occasions. The first time he had done it, it was dark. The entire city was in lockdown and there was not a single light because Ace had managed to uproot the building that provided basic service to all the city. Then, he thought that maybe, just maybe, that night the sky would be so clear that he would be able to see the stars. And what better place for stargazing than the dome of the cathedral.

He was right. He could see every last star. Their light was not like the light posts in the parks or the lamps in his old room. Their light was energy, it was strength, and it was sheer power.

They were so present in the sky and seemed so close to his fingertips that he felt one of them himself. But he did not believe that his energy, his strength, and his power was similar to that of any of those stars; it would be like reducing himself to being something that he was not, so he could fit into a mold that he did not to fit in and please people who did not appreciate him.

And like that, under the stars and on the dome of that cathedral, the birth of anarchy was announced with the explosion of a supernova.

Ace Anarchy was a supernova. Ace Anarchy was born on that dome.

Now he wondered if he was going to die there too.

Hugh Everhart was in front of him. He didn't move a single muscle and he didn't make a single face, not even when Ace spat his name like it was a blasphemy. With one hand he held his spear and with the other, he clung to the piece of cloth that passed through his chest and that held a baby dozing on his back. He took a step forward, and Ace imitated him, too blinded by adrenaline to even think that this image was too good to be true and that Hugh Everhart would never give himself up like this, on a silver platter, and without his allies by his side, unless he didn't plan on giving himself up in the first place.

It was the worst mistake he could have made. And he didn't even notice it until he began to feel… that.

It was as if he was being absorbed. Someone ran their hands from his head to the tips of his toes, causing the feeling of lightness with which he had lived for so long to gradually fade away. The cars he launched, the walls, and the corpses he used as weapons against the friends and relatives of the dead were growing heavier and Ace had never carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. At least not that way.

Never like this.

The fire inside him was getting smaller, and smaller, and the only thing that seemed to remain was a single spark.

Ace stepped back, but Hugh Everhart kept on walking towards him.

There came a time when there was no more dome Ace could stand on and he fell to his knees.

For that thousandth of a second, he felt the presence of Tala and the baby behind him, looking at him with a deadpan expression. David's ghost, made of the same stardust that his fingers could manipulate, laid his hand on his shoulder and a tear, bright and white, fell on the fabric of his trench coat.

It was a pure tear, waiting to be paid for with another tear that was just as pure as the first one. But Ace had long since lost the ability to cry.

Hugh Everhart pulled the helmet off his head with such force that he backed away a couple of meters. The air swiped away the ghosts of his brother, his wife, and daughter, leaving only Alec Artino, with his knobby knees and messy hair, looking at him as the lost child in the middle of the battlefield that he was.

He ran towards him and wrapped his thin and fragile arms around him telling him that perhaps it was time to accept his own humanity.

Because… what is Ace Anarchy without his helmet?

His enemy readied his spear and Ace turned to see the boy asking the question, who was looking at him as if his mere presence was the answer.

What was Ace Anarchy without his helmet? Was he that weak child, with a stuffy nose and restless hands? Was he the man he saw in the reflection of his eyes, with a sloppy beard and deep dark circles?

Was he the ghost he would soon become?

Alec held Ace by the cheeks, with those bony little hands that were always cold, no matter how many gloves he wore or how many times David wrapped his around them and rubbed them to keep them warm.

And then he asked him, “How do you kill a god?”

The answer was what brought him back to reality and the one that made him realize, that it had only been a couple of seconds from the moment he fell to his knees and now that he was standing up, Alec’s ghost fading for the last time.

Because David and Alec Artino should have died completely since day one. In a perfect world, the only one alive was Ace Anarchy.

Someday, that vision of a perfect world would become real, and neither Alec nor David would be there to intervene.

Someday...

The only thing that remained inside of him was a spark, but even a single spark could start the biggest of fires.

How do you kill a god?

How do you kill Ace Anarchy?

Oh, my little nightmare.

You don’t.

And with that, he spread his arms and leaped straight into the flames.

...then with claws of fire, we devour like a falcon in the dive!

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 8

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on ao3 at:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475064/chapters/67835227

previous | next

8. you cannot kill what we are

Bloodhound sits cross-legged on the top of the Epicenter tower, still and silent, hands folded in their lap. Their Kraber lays next to them, easily within grabbing distance. In their hands, they hold a small silver case, and Elliott can’t see what’s inside it. Maybe a picture of a boyfriend or girlfriend? Or partner? Elliott thinks, and a spiky flicker of jealousy rolls through his chest. Bloodhound was free to have any life they wanted, of course. Elliott just wished they would tell him more about who they were. They were so secretive and so private it made him crazy, but he wanted to respect their choices. He would settle for any small bit of information they gave him, and last night’s discussion only proved to make him more interested in them.

It strikes Elliott that it looks as though Bloodhound might be praying. Or meditating. He can’t really tell the difference, because of their mask, and it’s not like he would know the difference if he could see them. Elliott had never been a religious man. Putting hope and faith in some imaginary person never seemed logical for him. But he had to admire Bloodhound’s devotion to their Allfather. They remain still, and their breath through the respirator is even and quiet. He wonders what they’re praying about. He wonders, for the millionth time, why they are so closed off, and why they need the mask. God, he wants to ask so bad, but he won’t. He can’t.

Makoa crouches across from them, watching the hill between Overlook and their current position. He occasionally aims down the sights of his G7 to observe faraway battles and update them on who still remains. Elliott hasn’t ever met someone like Makoa- he was so accepting and supportive of every person around him, which was something Elliott was very grateful for. Anytime he needed a little energy boost, he knew to strike up a casual conversation with him. He was almost like another brother.

His heart clenches at the thought of his brothers, probably dead out in the universe somewhere. It had been so long since he’d seen or heard from any of them, and part of him gave up hope a long time ago. Pain and discomfort begin to creep their way in, and his first instinct is to block it out. But he remembers again what Bloodhound had said to him. You are allowed to feel the pain you bear. 

So he lets it come. 

It washes through him like hot syrup, clinging on to the bruised and broken parts of him as it passes. It hurts horribly for a few awful moments, but begins to subside faster than he thought possible. Huh. That’s not so bad, he thinks. But then it surges up in a fury, grabbing him by the throat and closing his windpipe off. Pain clogs his lungs and cements his airway, making it impossible to breathe. Water floods his chest, but he tries to acknowledge it, to let it reside there. Uh… just… feel it. Try to feel it.

Time slows to a crawl, and it squeezes Elliott in its static-filled fingers. A thick, buzzing substance descends upon his shoulders and draws all of the air out of his lungs, replacing it with some toxic chemical that numbs his insides on the way down. Oh, god. This is horrible. This fucking sucks, he thinks. He holds himself a little tighter, trying to shake himself out of whatever the hell this is.

“You doing okay, bruddah?” 

Elliott jerks his head up and sees that Makoa has his eyes trained on him, the bigger man’s face full of concern. It’s only then that Elliott realizes he’s not breathing, and he gasps, sucking in air like he’s a man dying of thirst. The static fog around his head subsides somewhat, but stubbornly remains. Nevertheless, he does feel a little better- at least the grief isn’t swallowing him in waves anymore.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great!” he replies, plastering a smile on his face. He gives Makoa a thumbs up. “Don’t worry about me, I was just d- devis- coming up with a battle plan for how we’re gonna win this thing.”

“If you say so,” Gibraltar says, but he doesn’t look altogether convinced. He chuckles and turns back to his sights.

“Remember to breathe, Elliott,” Bloodhound murmurs, not turning to face him. They’re still sitting quietly across the way, their head bowed, the case still resting in their hands. His name on their lips makes a brief flash of excitement zap through him, one which he promptly suppresses. How the hell did they know? he thinks, amazed by them as always. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries not to stare at them. He doesn’t really want to sit with these emotions right now, but he does it anyway. The grief is still there, yes, but it’s subsiding, and Elliott can’t be more grateful. A brief surge of embarrassment makes an appearance, and he pushes it away. Old habits die hard, he thinks.

Makoa whistles, sharp and low, and Bloodhound is at his side in an instant. They cradle the Kraber in their hands reverently, and aim down the sights. Mirage pops to his feet, charging up his Holo emitters. Two squads are running down the hill from Overlook, and a third squad is running in from their left. Bloodhound lets out a small sound that can only be a laugh, and Elliott’s stomach jumps sharply. Not now, he thinks, berating himself. He can’t afford to get distracted by them today.

The sound of two Kraber shots ricochets in the air, and Bloodhound jerks back a bit, displaced by the recoil. Right before Elliott’s eyes, two members of one squad drop to the ground, bleeding out. The third member of their squad is quickly taken out by the squad behind them, leaving two squads milling about, about to face off. No- another squad is running in from the right, which means every remaining team must be here.  Elliott’s heart begins to pump hard, and he knows that his squad will soon have to jump into the fight. The sound of rapid gunfire fills the air, and electricity shoots through his veins, amping him up, readying him for the struggle ahead, all thoughts of his brothers forgotten.

Mirage pulls out his Wingman, makes sure it’s fully loaded, and spins it around in his grip. He looks over to Gibraltar and Bloodhound. “What’s the plan?” he asks. 

Gibraltar laughs at him. “I thought you had it all figured out, bruddah.” There was no malice in his eyes, just a sense of relentless teasing that makes Elliott relieved.

“Uh…” Elliott’s thoughts are a scramble. He looks over to Bloodhound helplessly, but they only shake their head and cross their arms. God, he hopes they’re smiling. He has no choice but to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Um, how about this? Once they’re all a little closer, let’s get Bloodhound on the ground to scan and see who’s nearby. If there’s a bunch of enemies around, then Gibraltar, you can throw your Ultimate down. Some of the missiles might hit the tower, but it will give us enough of a smokescreen to run around and take some suckers out, since Bloodhound can see through smoke and we’ve all got digital threat optics.” The words tumble from his mouth, and even he is surprised by how coherent the plan seems to be. Huh. Would you look at that?

“Well planned, vinur minn,” Bloodhound affirms, a note of amusement in their voice. A giddy sense of pride surges through him, and he’s determined to let that feeling stay as long as it wants.

“You got it, Mirage,” Gibraltar says, clapping him heartily on the back. All of his breath exits his chest in a whoosh, and he stumbles forward, coughing weakly. He can hear gunfire beating a wild tattoo against his ears, and he knows it’s almost time to join the fight.

Makoa tosses his Ultimate canister up and down in his hand, an infectious smile splitting his face. Bloodhound looks over to Elliott, and even through the goggles, their gaze makes him want to blush. Instead, he gives them a cheeky grin and a thumbs up. Bloodhound nods to them, and turns to the balcony under the zipline. They stretch their arms upwards, and then roll their neck, bouncing on the balls of their feet. The hunter takes a brief moment to bow their head once more. They open the service panel on their wrist gear to press a few quick buttons, and Mirage glances down at the squads fighting below. 

They really don’t know what they’re in for, he thinks. 

He watches in awe as Bloodhound takes a running leap off the Epicenter tower and howls into the sky, the familiar red hue glowing around them as they plummet to the ground. Their jump pack boosts them just enough so they don’t destroy their knees, and when they hit the snow, they immediately activate their scanner. Nine orangey-red figures highlight through the structures and ice around their team, and Bloodhound yells over the comms, “Gibraltar, now!”

Makoa follows suit, hurling his Ultimate canister down between the warring teams. The familiar hum fills the air, and a barrage of missiles scream through the sky. Thick gray smoke descends upon the landscape, and the missiles beat against the ground, creating miniature craters where they explode. “Two down!” Gibraltar announces, examining the scene through the digital sights of his Prowler. “Go get ‘em, Mirage! I’ll be right behind you.”

Mirage hops up and down on the balls of his feet, just like Bloodhound did, and snaps his goggles on. “It’s dupes o’clock!” he says, grinning like a little kid. The adrenaline was really kicking in now, and he feels powerful and confident, for once. He leaps off the tower after Bloodhound and hits the icy ground hard. His knees wobble and his feet ache, but this is no time for hesitation. It’s time to help his team. 

Immediately he takes advantage of the smoke that’s still clouding the air, and sends a decoy running straight through it. He follows it and releases every clone he has. Even though he’s running blind, he trusts himself, because he knows the contour of the area like the back of his hand. Gunfire begins to ring out, and the churning sound of a Devotion greets his ears. Dread threatens to flood his stomach for a brief second, but he acknowledges it and lets it pass, surprised at how quickly it leaves. Three of his decoys are shot down, and Elliott has to smile. Bamboozling his opponents never got old.

A sinister, skeletal shape looms out of the smoke and Elliott cringes. Why did it have to be the damn murderbot? he laments internally. He raises his Wingman, aiming through the sights. Revenant turns to him, highlighted in red, his mechanical hand splitting in two to reveal the silencer. Mirage dodges the huge fiery projectile just barely, and his heart pounds harder than ever before. He aims again and two shots from his pistol connect with Revenant’s chest just as the robot levels his Hemlok. To Elliott’s horror, Revenant disappears in a flash of orange light, no doubt summoned back to his death totem. 

“Dammit!” he yells, and he feels a peppering of bullets smatter against his head and chest. His shields are dangerously low, and as he turns to see his attacker, a hazy red and brown shape flashes past him. Bloodhound sprints across the battlefield, raises their Spitfire and shoots down an unfamiliar face in a matter of seconds. Must be one of the new hopefuls, Elliott thinks wildly, fighting the urge to just stand back and watch Bloodhound dominate the field. They run off behind another glacier in search of their prey.

He shakes his head and continues on.

By his count, there should only be six other people left- two of the previous nine had been taken down by Gibraltar’s Ultimate, and Bloodhound had just finished the third of that squad. He’s not sure who’s left, but he also knows there’s a big chance Revenant’s squad is still intact. His totem tended to complicate things, so Elliott hated trying to win against him. He’s not sure which he prefers- losing to Bloodhound or fighting against a squad of shadows.

The ring was getting closer by the second, and Elliott could almost hear it humming. “We’d better make this quick, guys,” he says over comms. “I like pork chops but I definitely don’t want to become them!”

“Come to me, félagi fighters,” Bloodhound replies, their voice raspy and deep because of their Ultimate. The sound of it electrifies Elliott’s insides in an instant, and he has to fight every weakness he’s got as his knees turn to jelly. 

He rounds the corner and ducks into the room below the tower, fidgeting with his Wingman. Gibraltar jogs in with them, his Prowler smoking slightly. “Downed another one, but I think they had a gold knockdown. They’re probably up and running again.”

“It is no matter,” Bloodhound replies, and Elliott is sad to hear their Ultimate fading away. “We have the means to vinna.” They kneel on the ground quickly, regaining their balance from the rush. He places a hand on their shoulder.

“You all right?” he asks them. 

Bloodhound stiffens, almost shying away from his touch. “Yes. Do not forget to recharge your shields. We have need of your skill.”

A weird sense of awkwardness sparkles in his ribcage, and he retracts his hand. “Oh, right.” He takes a moment to swing his backpack from his shoulders and to his feet. The familiar hiss and sting of the shield battery jolts through his veins, and soon enough he is fully charged again. “How many are left? Six?

“Four,” Bloodhound pants. “I killed two opponents before assisting you, so there should be four remaining, assuming the one with the gold shield evaded death. Who was it?”

“Don’t know,” Gibraltar says, popping a shield cell. “Didn’t get a good look at them. Might’ve been Dr. Nox.”

Bloodhound nods, and reloads their Spitfire. Gunfire echoes around them again, too close for comfort. Mirage darts to the other doorway and peeks out. Sure enough, the remaining squads are battling it out by the respawn beacon. Revenant and Lifeline are shooting at Wraith and Wattson from the hill, pinning the two women between them and Elliott’s squad. A blue-black void portal is hidden expertly among the rocks, no doubt leading to a safer location. 

“It’s a two on two out there,” Elliott yells back to his team. “Lifeline and Murderbot against Wraith and Wattson. I don’t know what happened to their thirds, so keep an eye out.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Gibraltar says. “Wraith will be able to tell if we’re aiming at her, thanks to those voices of hers. Bloodhound, how about you take her portal while they’re distracted and wait for them to come through? Give us scans when you’re charged up. Mirage, you send a few decoys out as you get them. I’ll circle around to the side and try to gain ground on the two up the hill.”

“Hey, sounds good,” Mirage replies, just as Bloodhound nods their agreement. “Almost as good as my plan, but you know, you’ll get there!”

Gibraltar just shakes his head at him in amused exasperation. “You keep telling yourself that. You two ready?”

Mirage grabs an arc star from his bag. “Ready.”

“Ready.” Bloodhound’s voice is smooth and even, free from the heavy breathing from before. 

“Go!”

Elliott runs through the door with no hesitation, sending a decoy in the direction of the gunfire. He lobs the arc star high and far, hoping to land it right between the squads. Bloodhound is close behind him, and they run straight to Wraith’s portal. Gibraltar jogs up the hill, pulling out his G7. Bloodhound disappears into Wraith’s portal in a flash of white light, and Elliott starts firing at Wattson with his R-99. About half of the bullets miss, whizzing over Wattson’s head when she ducks. Wraith disappears from his peripheral, slipping into the void. Elliott can only hope she’s gone after Gibraltar and isn’t sneaking around behind him.

Bloodhound suddenly cries out in pain over the comms, and Elliott’s heart twists itself into knots. 

“What’s wrong?” he yells, his fingers fumbling as he ducks and reloads his R-99.

The hunter reappears beside him, heaving and groaning in pain. “Do not go through the portal!” they gasp. “Wraith left the other end outside the ring!” Bloodhound runs off to take cover, pulling a med kit from their backpack as they go. 

Wattson fires her Flatline straight at Elliott’s head, and a dangerous amount of bullets make contact. His shields instantly vaporize, and his helmet is barely holding on. He knows it's now or never, so he takes a deep breath and fires his R-99 at her. His friend hits the ground almost instantly, and Elliott feels a twinge of sorrow. Wattson was one of his favorite Legends to be around, and he always felt this weird sense of guilt when he beat her in the Games, even though they’re here to repeatedly kill each other. “Sorry, Nat!”

“It- It’s fine,” she groans weakly, pressing a hand to her neck as the blood gushes from between her fingertips. “I’ll get you next time!”

He lingers for a moment, not really wanting to finish her off, but more bullets fly in his direction. He doesn’t really have a choice, so he fires a few more bullets at her, and her body goes limp. 

A large, orange, sparkling something hits Elliott squarely in the chest, and he realizes too late that Revenant has hit him with his silencer. “Shit, shit, shit!” he mutters, diving out of the way. He ducks behind a pillar and pulls out a shield battery, willing it to charge faster. Bullets smack into the ground near his feet, and he scoots away from them. 

“Wraith is down!” Gibraltar yells over the comms. 

“Wattson’s out too,” Mirage replies, breathing hard. “It should just be Revenant and Lifeline, right?” Fully healed, he discards the battery and peeks precariously around the pillar. 

A web of orangey-red energy sweeps the area, highlighting three enemy figures.

To his horror, a shadowy Revenant, Lifeline, and Caustic are running down the hill at full-tilt. Caustic raises an arm back, holding a large, cylindrical object in his hand, and Elliott is familiar with the sight. Still silenced, he can’t do much else besides run, so he darts away from the respawn beacon structure and back towards the imposing ring. It has closed just shy of the space under the tower, so he throws himself back in and waits for his abilities to return. “Bloodhound, where are you?”

Just as the words leave his mouth, Caustic rushes around the corner, still holding the canister in his hands. Elliott immediately sends a decoy in his direction, but he is not fooled- he steps aside and throws the canister right at Elliott’s feet. Caustic fires a round of ammo from his Havoc right into Elliott’s chest. Elliott throws himself backwards, but his right elbow smashes against the doorframe, and he feels it fracture. Mirage falls through the doorway just as clouds of green gas spew straight at his face. 

“Fuck, shit-” he gasps, breathing in gas and crawling frantically away. He was so close to death, and his blood is pumping white-hot terror through his veins. Pain funnels into his lungs and into his entire body, radiating from his arm. 

“Failure after failure,” Caustic seethes through the mask, slamming his foot on Mirage’s chest just as the effects of Revenant’s totem leave him. He reloads his Peacekeeper and presses the muzzle into Elliott’s forehead. 

Same damn place I was just a few days ago, Elliott thinks, his chest seizing in agony. All this fighting, and for what? He grabs around frantically, trying to find something, anything to help him out.

His left hand brushes across the handle of his Wingman.

Three ear-splitting shots ring out, and Caustic crashes to the ground, three bullet holes in his forehead. 

Elliott scrambles to his feet and instantly falls right back over, hacking his lungs out. He roots through his backpack in a panic, trying to find a med kit and a shield battery. To his dismay, he only finds two syringes and a shield cell. 

“Caustic’s down! Hey, I could use some shields here!” he coughs, leaning against the wall and taking the syringes. He feels his arm heat up uncomfortably, and the fracture heals itself, but still aches.

“Give me a sec!” Gibraltar yells. “Lifeline’s low, but so am I!”

“Revenant has downed me,” Bloodhound calls, their voice thick with what Elliott can only assume to be blood. 

This is bad, Elliott thinks as he pops a shield cell. His chest is tight with pain and fear, and all he wants to do is scramble to his feet and find Bloodhound. Gibraltar sprints around the glacier, throws down his dome, and drops a shield battery, which Elliott scoops up and uses as fast as he physically can. “Bloodhound, where are you?”

“Near the respawn beacon!”

“Shit,” he hisses. Bloodhound had to be right between them and Revenant, and Revenant had to be coming for them. “Gibraltar, did you finish Lifeline off?” 

“Yup,” he says, reloading his Prowler. “Anyone got some heavy ammo?”

But his words fall on deaf ears, because Elliott takes off towards Bloodhound’s indicator.

Another fiery orange projectile hits Elliott squarely in the chest, and he yells in frustration. “Hold on, Bloodhound, I’m coming for you!”

“No, Elliott, finish the match!” they yell weakly. “Leave me!”

“But-”

“Go!” 

“No!” Elliott protests. “I’m not leaving you behind, so shut up!” He slides across the ground to Bloodhound’s shaking form and plunges the revival syringe straight into their chest. They gasp hard, and their body convulses for a brief moment. “Come on, stay with me,” he murmurs. His hand goes to theirs and hovers over it for just a moment, but he thinks better of it. Now’s not the time.

A fiery orange projectile hits the ground only a few feet away from them, just as Elliott is pulling Bloodhound to their feet. “You good?” he asks them.

“Yes. Now go!”

Elliott pops to his feet and grabs a stray syringe from the ground, plunging it into his wrist as he runs. His Wingman is almost out of ammo, and he only has a couple clips of his R-99 left. “Gibraltar, you good?”

“Right behind you!” he replies. “But I’m low on health!”

Revenant’s skeletal form comes into view once more as Elliott runs up the hill towards Refinery. He’s kneeling over Lifeline’s body, attempting to revive her. 

Elliott fires the last two Wingman shots he has at Revenant, but to his dismay, only one of them connects. It collides with his shoulder, and he jumps to his feet, leaving Lifeline behind. Good, Elliott thinks. Now she can’t back him up. He switches to his R-99 and sprints harder, trying to catch up with him.

Elliott rounds the corner and promptly ducks as he sees another of Revenant’s silencers flying towards his head. He shoots another decoy forward, trying to give Revenant something else to focus on. Gibraltar gets hit with the silencer and grunts in frustration. Elliott pursues Revenant relentlessly, determined to get revenge on the bastard. 

Finally the robot comes into view, and Elliott raises his gun at him. Most of the mag hits his target, and Revenant has to be close to dead. 

“Mirage!” Gibby yells. “Get behind me!”

“Wh-”

“Just do it!”

Elliott shakes his head in disbelief but he does as Gibraltar says. “I don’t know what you’re planning but I hope it’s good.”

“Trust me,” Gibraltar says, raising what’s left of his gun shield. Elliott reloads his R-99, and in front of them, Revenant fires back with a few well-placed Eva-8 shots, obliterating Gibraltar’s gun shield. Gibby falls to the ground, his arm and gut bleeding profusely.

“Dude, what the hell-”

“Just finish him!” Gibraltar coughs, blood spattering onto the ice. 

Elliott looks up in alarm. Revenant is almost upon him, and he’s leveling his R-301. The too-familiar panic settles in, but Elliott takes a deep breath, allowing it to remain inside him.

Everything goes quiet and still. 

His R-99 moves seemingly of its own accord, locking onto Revenant’s head with ease. His fingers pull the trigger, and the stream of bullets shoots out like a laser, deadly accurate. Every single bullet connects to its target. Revenant is knocked backward by the force of it all, and he slumps to the ground, dead. 

The R-99 falls out of Elliott’s hands. 

His eyes sting and his knees give out.

“Attention. Winner decided.”

[jarofrebuke-transcripts]

Jar of Rebuke Episode 4 Unofficial Transcript

Season 1 Episode 4: Green Claw

INTRO

The following audio recording is classified documentation for Case [audio distortion] with the Enclosure. Unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

JARED

Today sucked. [eating ice cream] It didn't start bad, I mean it actually started pretty good. I have so much ice cream in my freezer, all from the Royal Cow. Anytime I die I eat a whole pint to soothe the stress. This one's butter pecan. I changed into my PJs. I haven't even showered yet. I'm freezing, even with this blanket around me I'm shivering. Ugh, but yeah no, um, it started well, really well. I spent the afternoon with Darius by the river. It's a bit too chilly to go swimming now, but it was nice for a walk and a little picnic. He brought some food that he'd learned to cook in his classes and some apple ale that his dads made, and plenty of water bottles of course. We sat and just talked for a while. He'd picked me up from my place in his truck and drove us out there. He'd seemed a bit nervous for the first portion of the relatively short drive, but he loosened up after we talked a bit more. First about the weather, then about how his folks had been, and then just conversation flowed from one topic to the next. [eats more ice cream] Once by the river we uh, we set up the picnic out on the grass near the water and then we cracked into the food. He made various finger foods for us to eat like pigs in a blanket and fried cheese curds. I have no idea how early he woke up to make all of it but it was all delicious. That and the apple ale was the most soul-pleasing lunch that I could ask for. We sat together and watched the river flow by, shared jokes and stories. It was actually nice to smile that much.

[shivers, eats more ice cream] It was great, you know? Then we packed up the blanket and the food containers and we took it all back to his truck. Then we went for a walk along the river. There's a nice little path through the grass and the trees. Lots of kids bike round there during the warmer months, but we pretty much had it to ourselves the whole walk. The thing about that part of the river though is that there's a creature rumored to lurk in the water that's been known to drag people down into the depths. Usually parents use it as a story to warn, you know, their kids to steer away from the waters and going swimming alone. I've personally never seen anything out there, but I know for a fact that we have files on something living in that water. Darius and I didn't talk about it though. We had a bunch of other things to talk about. [whispered] Oh god. [eats more ice cream] Yeah so we talked about how work’s been for both of us, and also what we've been up to outside of work. Which on my end wasn't exactly much. So he did a good portion of the talking on that front.

We walked pretty close together. He asked a few times if I was chilly and he even offered me his jacket at one point. I had my own jacket on, but it was nice just walking together. I declined his offer but thanked him. But gave him a little playful nudge about how he would also be cold if he gave me his jacket. And I'm so damn cold. But this ice cream is my ritual. So about after an hour of walking he asked if he could ask me something pretty serious. It was a big tone shift in conversation, and I told him sure. Before he could even ask, his phone started ringing in his pocket. It was one of his dads asking him to come home. Some incident on the farm, everything was fine, but they really needed all hands on deck. It sounded pretty urgent. Darius looked a bit annoyed, but I told him that it was okay. He offered to drive me home but his dad had sounded a bit frantic. I told him that I could call someone to come pick me up, I wanted to walk a bit more anyways. We stared at each other for a moment, he even took a step towards me, I wasn't sure what he had planned to do but then he just took off his jacket and wrapped it around me, then jogged back off towards his truck. “Tell to your folks I say hi!” was the last thing I said as I watched him drive off. His jacket smelled really nice.

To be honest I had no idea who I was going to call, but I did want to walk some more so I did. I zipped up his jacket that was a bit too big for me and continued on down the path. He's always worn jackets that are probably about two sizes too big for him. He always seems comfortable but it just made it quite big on me. As I walked along the river, something pulled my attention out over the water. I saw something that looked like hands struggling and some splashing, like someone was trying to get out. Like someone was drowning. So without thinking I ran and threw myself into the water. Like an idiot. I lost another pair of glasses. No one would be swimming this time of year and I knew that there's something out in that river that's inhuman, but I still dove in to save whoever was struggling! Ugh, I literally knew better! But no…

The water was pretty calm, but cold as hell already. It actually stung when I jumped in. It wasn't a hard swim to get out there, to where I'd seen the struggling happening, besides all the layers that I was wearing anyways. But when I got out there I didn't feel anything. I went above the water and looked around and there was nothing to see. I went underwater and felt around again, and nothing. At least for a few moments anyway. I went up above water to take in a breath and enough time had passed for me to realize that again, I'd been duped. Before I could even turn back towards land, I felt something grab my ankle and pull me under. Literally all I could say was “damn it!” before that thing snagged me. Not my first time being yanked into a lake or a river or whatever, but it's still hard to resist breathing in a bunch of water on my way down. The grip of my ankle was tight, like three strong fingers. It felt like it had plush, something almost furry, but definitely a clawed hand. Once fully under the really cold water, I tried to take in what was around me as I struggled, but all I could see in front of me was some green blur with a line of what I assume were sharp teeth smiling at me. That was when I heard a voice come out in a bubbly haze, but in my head I could understand every word that was said to me.

RIVER MONSTER

It's been a while since I've caught anything.

JARED

I.. I don't know how I knew that that's what it said, but I just wanted to get away. I always feel off for days if my body has to reform anything, so being eaten especially sucks. I tried kicking at the grip, but then the hands moved from my ankle to actually hold my arms so that they could... I don't know, so that the creature could look at my face? And then they asked-

RIVER MONSTER

You're not afraid? You don't fight the same way most do. No screams, not even trying to breathe anymore. [evil laugh]

JARED

And then they laughed at me. It was almost worse being laughed at than held under the water, though my lungs did start to hurt from not being able to breathe. I must have sneered or something, I don't know, but I just heard another laugh.

RIVER MONSTER

Do you even know fear?

JARED

That struck me as weird, but uh... it made me think. Like I'm not afraid of death. I'm more afraid of surprise parties and saying the wrong thing in conversation than I am of death. Death sucks, but I've gotten used to it. I struggled more. I got a few good kicks in. I reached up towards the surface, anything that I could do to get free. After my last run-in with the mud mermaids I didn't feel like drowning again. But no matter how much I struggled, I wasn't strong enough. My heart was pounding as I tried to fight the urge to breathe in water. The mocking became less in my focus but it was still there. I still remember how the voice sounded so clear!

RIVER MONSTER

So curious... such determination. Such desperation. Yet no attempted screaming. This isn't your first time, huh? But I've never seen you before.

JARED

I got pulled back down a bit further, as if the creature was trying to take a closer look at me. The closer I got, the blurrier the creature got, which wasn't hard considering you can't see very clearly underwater. At that point, everything was sore and I was feeling lightheaded. I let out the air that I had been holding in since it felt like that my head was gonna burst, and on reflex I almost inhaled a huge gulp of water. But I clamped my mouth shut just in time. But it got really difficult towards the end there. It was so cold, yet so much of me burned because I just wanted to breathe.

RIVER MONSTER

What if I just let go? Would you make it to the surface in time?

JARED

A different kind of teasing, and it sucked nonetheless. Like a cat toying with its prey, and just like a cat that's just how some of these creatures are. Humans have a propensity to know better, but for some of these creatures it's just in their nature. I can't really fault them for that. Besides I was food. I had just hoped that if I was gonna die, at least I'd go unconscious before I became supper. That was about the breaking point, though. My mouth involuntarily opened and my body tried gasping for air. But there was no air. If I thought my lungs had burned before, no. That water made them burn far, far worse. All I remember after that was thrashing and burning and it became impossible to fight anymore and then... nothing.

[eats more ice cream] I don't know if the creature ate anything, but my clothes were pretty much still intact. When I woke up and I didn't see any new scars, so I guess not. I have no idea why the creature didn't just commit. Asshole. I woke up on the riverbank, coughed up a bunch of water when I woke up, and gods! Everything still ached for a bit. It didn't last long, once I got the water out of my system, but it was still very unpleasant. I was freezing because my clothes were still soaking wet, but the most frustrating thing was that since I went downstream, I was even further from home. I must have only been out of commission for an hour or so, considering that no one had found my body and since it was well lit, I assumed that not much time had passed. I’m always scared that someone's gonna find my body before I wake up. Now that would be awkward for me and traumatizing for them. Anyways I got up and started walking along the river. Really just trying to find my phone. After a little while I did eventually find it, still on the edge of the path from where I jumped in. My fingers were so pruney from all that time in the water and I was shivering with all the soaked layers, but I picked up my phone and checked the time. No new messages, no missed calls, nothing besides a very low battery. It's kind of sad. What if I had died, died. When would people even notice? But it was like the universe wanted to give me something. Because then and there I got a text from Darius apologizing for having to leave so quickly. He asked if I'd gotten home but I told him half the truth. Still walking, heading home soon. And before I could call anyone, my phone died. I was trying to figure out who I could come to get me, I went to call Amir, and just then my phone shut off. I felt mocked.

So then I walked all the way home in soaked clothes, and the fall air did not help. I didn't want to be out after dark so I made sure to keep a good pace, shivering and swearing under my breath most of the way home. It may not have been a long drive, but it took me hours to walk home. And now here I am. I still smell the river water, I still have some weird green handprints on my ankle from where the creature first grabbed me, but no new scars. At least none that I've noticed. I tossed the wet clothes into my washing machine and just started my post-death ritual before recording. Getting at the ice cream and wrapping myself in blankets. I don't care if I'm freezing. Ice cream is my ritual, I am sticking to it. My phone is finally charged enough to turn it back on, and um, oh shoot. A few missed messages, all from Darius. He'd asked if I'd found someone to come get me, and then another message of him offering to come get me if I couldn't find anyone, and then another message asking if I'd gotten home, each like an hour apart. Oh man, I worried him. I gotta text him back hold on. “I'm so sorry I'm home. Phone died. Had an amazing time with you today. Hope everything's settled down on your end.”

It would be so nice to be honest, but what would I say? “Hey sorry, I drowned and died and then had to walk home and soaking wet clothes in the cold after my phone also died!” Best case scenario, if he believed me, he'd probably feel so guilty. But more likely than not, he wouldn't believe me. I mean most people just don't, they... they don't just walk off death. It's starting to rain again, so at least I beat that home, I guess. Just a light drizzle but I'm already cold enough as it is. And I know that I should report this incident to the Enclosure. but honestly? I don't really feel like meddling further. That creature was minding their own business anyways, why should I just drive other scientists to the river? I mean if it was so obviously deadly, then Todd would just send me again. I'm not looking forward to a round two. Because of my abilities I actually get most of the orders directly from Todd himself instead of from the higher ups in the lab that I work in, like most of the other scientists do. A bit of a special case, I guess, one that I'm not particularly thrilled about, honestly. But, whatever. It's a stable job, and it's good money, so I don't complain all that much. I might not tell anyone about this. I don't want to deal with all the trouble that I'm gonna have to deal with if I do. Not like Todd would be the most empathetic about the matter, and Dr. Rahal would probably worry more than necessary. I don't think that he really emotionally processes that I come back when I die. Then, of course, I can't really talk to anyone outside of the Enclosure, I guess. I could reach out to Dr. Lomax? They were always a great listener and I don't really see them much anymore. I've been thinking about seeing if they want to meet up and, I don't know, grab a bite to eat, catch up? And I have no clue what their schedule is like anymore. I don't really have friends to spend time with, so maybe I should change that. I'm gonna go finish this ice cream before it melts and then I'm gonna go take a hot shower and get into some warmer clothes. I might call Darius later and see how he's doing, make sure that everything's all right on his end. Also I'm definitely requesting some time off, even a weekend would be nice. I know I've got some paid time off built up, so i'll look into using some of that here soon just to recoup. Not like I've ever really taken a vacation before or anything. I mean all I could really do is just lounge around my house but right now that doesn't sound all that bad. But first, ice cream, then shower. This has been Dr. Jared Hel, signing off.

OUTRO

Jar of Rebuke is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hel. The River Monster was played by Jason Larock. The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashley Craft, who has created the podcast official graphics. Music was created by Luke Menniss, spelled m-e-n-n-i-s-s, who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify and Twitch. Find us on Twitter, Instagram and anywhere else you get your podcast fix for more Jar of Rebuke and also to get updates on upcoming official merch for our show. Support projects by this crew on Patreon to further other queer-lead projects and get neat perks. All donations are appreciated and will grant further clearance to special Jar of Rebuke content. You can also make one-time donations on Ko-fi. And special thanks to our patreon supporters Becky Thompson, Perry Bruns, and Tristan Fraud.

[raywritesthings]

Fade In, Fade Out 1/2

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Earth 2 Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Quentin Lance, Barry Allen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Pretending to be her deceased doppelganger has as many drawbacks as it does benefits, so Black Siren decides it’s time to really switch things up on her enemies and allies alike. Oliver is confronted with his true feelings once again and must finally make a choice. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

Laurel Lance, formerly of Earth 2, had a problem. Well, several problems. Actually, they were all the same problems she’d had before, only now they were even more compounded by the precarious position she’d placed herself in. Namely, impersonating a dead woman.

It had been the best way to ensure she could no longer be held by this or that group in this or that cell. She’d been tired and hurting and so, so fed up with it all. So she’d let herself finally do the one thing she’d been avoiding for almost two years now: be seen.

Now she was Laurel Lance, miraculously rescued darling of Star City. A former ADA with a sterling reputation and a loving family and friends. How nice.

While it had bought her a temporary reprieve, it was clear this had not solved all her problems the way she’d hoped it might. Diaz was still sending his men sniffing around to threaten her and her doppelganger’s father. The bitch in the Black Canary suit was still breathing down her neck, probably barely holding back thanks to her team. And this Earth’s Oliver was continuing his sanctimonious bull about caring one minute then pulling back the next and pretending as if they were perfect strangers.

He was worried she was going to ruin his Laurel’s reputation. Maybe she should, since he’d pretty thoroughly wrecked her own image of Ollie, try as she might to maintain him in her mind. But doing anything too out of character for this Earth’s Laurel would just put her right back into danger.

Her old way of doing things had lacked security, but now it was hard for her to make any kind of move thanks to public scrutiny. She needed to be able to get away; a new fresh start on this godforsaken Earth. But she needed to keep Diaz and all her other enemies looking one way while she snuck off in the other direction. But how to do it?

And then, it turned out, the opportunity presented itself.

Quentin, her doppelganger’s father, took a call late one night. It was from this Earth’s Thea Queen, who was apparently saying goodbye.

“And Nyssa thinks there’s more of these Pits? Well that’s, that’s something… I’ve never even heard of these places you’re saying. Ojos del — well, whatever you said. And where’s that Kamchatka, that sounds — oh, Russia. Yeah, I wouldn’t have guessed that. Well, you’ll be seeing a lot more of the world than most people do.”

Laurel sat there, not really reading the law book he had pressed on her for the umpteenth time. If they were talking about a Pit, was this that magic Pit thing that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore? The one that brought people back from the dead or whatever? The dead were dead, no matter if you came to a whole separate Earth and met them again.

That’s something, he’d said, with such a wistful tone to his voice. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and it burned in her gut, angry and jealous despite it all. If he wanted his Laurel back, why didn’t he go do it instead of trying to force her to be her? Ugh, it sounded confusing even in her own head.

But as she glowered across the room at him while he talked to the other Thea on that phone, she took him in. Old, thin, frail as he was, he could never make that kind of journey. Great, now she was feeling pity, too.

The more she thought about it, though, the more she realized that these Pits still being active was something. Something that could help her, too. If she wanted everyone’s eyes off her, why not give them something else to look at? Watch the birdie.

Laurel took out her phone and made liberal use of autocorrect and suggested search to find the information she needed about Kamchatka. Then she started searching for plane tickets.

Later, after Quentin was sleeping, Laurel went out that night to the cemetery with a shovel, hoping to God this wasn’t part of some officer’s beat. There was nothing much she could do once she’d dug up the casket besides shovel the dirt back on top and pack it down. Maybe people would assume the casket had been removed since she wasn’t supposed to be underground anymore. And now her doppelganger wasn’t either.

Getting her on a plane wasn’t too difficult, but God was she glad she’d borrowed some money from Quentin so she could hire some help to carry the thing up the mountain.

“I want to see the springs,” she told her guides. “The ones off the beaten path. You know what I mean, right?” If there were rumors about these Pits, they had to come from somewhere.

The two exchanged glances. “No one goes to those springs now.”

“And why not?” Damnit, had the idiots already destroyed this one?

“There are men. They guard the springs jealously.”

Oh. The other guys. Right. Tommy’s weird evil dad’s minions or whatever.

Laurel shrugged. “I think I can handle myself. You two wait here with my birdcage.” Leaving them to exchange perplexed glances, Laurel turned and continued her march through the mountain range.

It was funny. She could have wandered around here for days without finding it, except that, two hours into that, out of the shadows leapt a man in ninja gear. That kind of blew the whole thing, didn’t it?

Laurel knocked him right off the cliff with her scream, then twisted the arm of his buddy who tried to attack her from behind, getting possession of his sword and stabbing him in the gut with it. He dropped to his knees, cursing in some foreign tongue while Laurel examines her new sword.

“Not my style, usually, but I think I’m gonna keep this. Thanks.”

He didn’t reply. Probably because he was dead. Well, she’d at least made this easier for Speedy and Friends whenever they showed up.

She found the casket abandoned on the path by the time she got back. Huh. Maybe she should have paid those guys extra. Quentin wasn’t made of money, though. No matter how much he was going to owe her once this whole thing was done.

Few things sucked more than carrying a dead body up a mountain by yourself. One of the things that did suck more was carrying a dead body that looked exactly like you up a mountain by yourself. Laurel did her best to keep her eyes on the path as she put one step forward after the other. When she finally found the crevice in the rocks that led into the springs, she sighed in relief.

This was definitely the place. The ninjas had set up a small encampment to the side of the cave, and in the center bubbled a mysterious-looking water.

“This better work,” Laurel muttered to herself, then unceremoniously dumped the body into the waters with a splash that had her quickly backing away to avoid the droplets.

What would it be like, meeting the fabled Perfect Laurel? Was it rose-tinted glasses that had everyone on this Earth making her out to be a saint?

She paced the edge, waiting for some kind of sign she hadn’t been duped. The waters had gone totally still. What the hell was she going to have to do, fish her doppelganger out? She hadn’t even brought a net.

Then the waters started bubbling again like someone had flipped the switch for the hydro-jets. She slowed, laying a hand on the hilt of her new sword.

With no warning, the previously dead body made an impossible leap from the waters, landing in a crouch with her hair hanging in her face like a wet curtain.

“Shit,” Laurel breathed to herself.

Her doppelganger’s head snapped up, eyes wild and mouth snarling. Certainly nothing like a saint. She had a split second to recognize the pulling back of her lips for what it was before she was ducking to avoid a sonic scream. She retaliated, catching her disoriented doppelganger in the side and sending her rolling across the cave floor. She didn’t get up.

Laurel listened to make sure they hadn’t caused some kind of cave-in, but it sounded like the rock was holding. Then she crept over to see if she’d accidentally killed the other woman again. The rise and fall of her chest said she was still breathing. Good.

What the hell had the whole wild woman act been, though? Was it permanent? What was she going to do with her if it was?

It was weird watching herself. Laurel paced to the other side of the Pit and stood against the wall, waiting.

She’d give her doppelganger half an hour before she just placed the return plane ticket at her feet and took off.

---

Laurel, always of Earth 1 and formerly dead, shivered as she came to, rolling onto her side and curling in on herself with cold. She was soaked to the skin and exposed to the open air of whatever this place was. Her ears were also ringing. She shook her head, feeling her damp hair sticking to the side of her face.

“Ugh.”

“You said it.”

Laurel blinked and looked around. How had she heard her own voice come from another direction?

Leaning against a rocky wall was her. Or, it looked exactly like her. “What is this?” Was it some kind of illusion? A person that could mimic appearances. Though while this other her was dressed in sensible gear for what looked like hiking a mountain, she discovered she was in one of her nicer but rather thin dresses. God, it was freezing.

“What do you remember?” The other her asked.

“Talking to Oliver?” She’d been trying to encourage him, because she’d known he was probably beating himself up about her getting hurt, and then everything went kind of fuzzy after that. She thought she could remember him shouting for someone…

“Ugh, of course you do,” the other her said, rolling her eyes. “Okay, basically you’ve been dead for about two years—”

“Wait, what?”

“And I just brought you back. You’re welcome! Only took your own doppelganger from another Earth to get the job done.”

Her doppelganger. That’s what this was. So she was from Earth 2, she was pretty sure Team Flash had called it. Where they there now? It would explain why there was what had to be a Lazarus Pit to the right of her even though Nyssa had destroyed the one at Nanda Parbat.

“Why did you bring me back?” There was something about this other her’s attitude that suggested it wasn’t strictly out of the kindness of her heart. She reminded Laurel uncomfortably of some of her worst behaviors in the midst of her spiral.

Her doppelganger smiled, and it definitely wasn’t nice. “Smart question. See, I’ve been trying to live my life on this Earth for the last almost two years, but things keep getting in the way. Mostly the people from your life. So I figure if I give them you back, they won’t keep bothering me. We’re even, see?”

There was so much she wasn’t being told, and she wished that wasn’t an old feeling. “You’ve been pretending to be me?”

“Only for a little bit. Hey, at least you don’t have to come up with a story for the press as to how you’re still alive. Someone can fill you in on the cover. I’m heading out of here and do not follow me.” Her doppelganger hefted a duffle bag higher on her shoulder.

“How am I supposed to get home from wherever this is?” She gestured down again her bare feet and lack of possessions.

The other her grumbled impatiently. “Here, take some of this stuff.” She grabbed a pair of black boots and a League-standard tunic from a small pile near the other end of the cave they were in. Laurel hurried to put both on, not really caring to ask who they typically belonged to when it meant she could finally warm up a little.

A passport hit her in the face. Then a printed out boarding pass came flying, which she caught before it could smack her as well.

“Tag, you’re it,” her double said. “And I guess you can have your dad’s credit card back.”

Laurel straightened back up. “You stole his—”

“Of course I did. I’m getting his precious daughter back for him, so what’s he going to miss a few hundred bucks for? I only bought plane tickets and a guided tour, calm down.”

Laurel did not calm down, and instead marched over to her double and snatched the card from her lose grasp. “You might think the snarky act helps protect you from other people hurting you, but let me tell you from experience that it just hurts worse watching everyone walk away.”

Her double glared, leaning into her space. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I am you. Or I was.” Laurel shook her head. “Why have you even been staying on this Earth? Haven’t you got your own?”

“And nothing there to return to.” She could see in the mirror image of her own eyes a deep-set pain and sadness. Laurel wanted desperately to ask, but she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to be seeing it at all.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Look, there’s no point to this. We can’t both be you, unless we want to pretend you’ve been lying about being an identical twin your whole life,” her doppelganger finally said. “I’m leaving. Wait five minutes, then head down the mountain path. There’s a little touristy station set up at the bottom, and they can direct you to the airport.”

“You’re really just going to lay low the rest of your life on some totally strange Earth?”

“About the only option I have left. Believe me, I’m looking forward to semi-retirement.” With that, her double turned and walked out of the cave, with not even a snarky goodbye to show for it. Laurel winced; she’d been pretending to be her? Did the others know, or did they all think she’d come back from the dead with that attitude?

She had no watch, so Laurel guessed at five minutes and headed down the path. Sure enough, the tourist trap at the bottom of the mountain did have information on transportation to the nearest airport. She also discovered she was in Eastern Russia.

Laurel prioritized getting to the airport over getting access to a phone. Her flight was pre-scheduled, after all. She bought some new clothes for herself before boarding so she didn’t have to come into the Star City airport looking like a terrorist. Thankfully, her father hadn’t cancelled his credit card. She’d pay him back, assuming she still had a job.

She couldn’t believe she was really back from the dead. Around nothing but strangers, it didn’t feel real. She also couldn’t sense anything like the bloodlust Thea had had, but she wasn’t really experiencing anything that might trigger her anger. But she’d need to figure out if there was a way to get more of that Lotus sooner rather than later.

Thea, her father, the team and Ollie, how were all of them? What had she missed in her years of being dead? Did they miss her or think about her at all? It would be selfish of her to wonder if Oliver ever thought about what she’d confessed to him, right? Even she’d known that was nothing but a memory now. Hopefully he and everyone else were just happy and safe, at least as much as they could be in their line of work.

She followed her fellow passengers out into the Star City airport, breathing a little easier now that she knew she was back in her home. No matter how much she or it changed, she’d always feel that way.

Laurel started looking for a help desk, but a hand landed on her upper arm before she could take more than two steps.

“Let’s go.”

Laurel froze. “Ollie?”

He looked about the same as she remembered. It had only been two years, after all. But his expression was guarded, even hostile as he looked down at her. She almost wanted to draw back from him.

“Quentin called. Whatever you’ve been setting up in Russia, you’re going to tell me and him.”

“I wasn’t setting anything up. I just came back to life.” It was occurring to her that he thought she was her own doppelganger, that this dislike and distrust wasn’t really for her. “I’m the real me, Oliver. I’m not the other Earth one.”

His eyes widened for a second, before he shut down again. “Come on.” He yanked on her arm to get her moving.

He thought she was lying. Well, they were going to see her father, apparently, so she could just convince them both at the same time. It figured her own doppelganger would leave her a mess to clean up.

---

Oliver didn’t trust himself to speak as he guided her out to the car. The fact that she wanted to try this game again, fooling him, was proof that he’d been right to doubt her attempt to turn over a new leaf. God, what was she planning to do to Laurel’s reputation? Her legacy?

“Ollie, please,” she said as he turned the key in the ignition. “I’m telling the truth. One minute, I was in the hospital with you and the next, I was waking up in some cave in Russia with an identical copy of myself telling me I’d been dead for two years.”

“A Lazarus Pit.”

“From what I could tell.”

He smirked to himself, but nothing was funny. “The only Lazarus Pit my Laurel knew about was destroyed, so why would she assume she’d been resurrected with one?”

“Because I made an educated guess when I woke up soaked to the bone next to a bubbling hot spring. Why can’t you ever just believe me?” She demanded, and it sounded so much like her — the real her — that it tore at his heart. Oliver kept his eyes on the road.

“Because you’ve done this before.”

“My doppelganger.” Her head dropped back against the seat rest. “Oliver, I don’t know what she must have done or said the past two years, but I promise that’s not me. I don’t want to think I could be that cruel to try and trick you like that twice.”

“Then where’s your other self?” He avoided describing it in a way that made it sound like he believed her. Even if everything — her tone, her inflections, the chunky knit sweater she was bundled in, just the way that she moved — was perfect in a way Black Siren had never managed.

This Laurel didn’t seem like she was mocking herself.

She sighed wearily. “I wish I had a better answer, but she took off. Said she wanted to get away from all of this, so she was tapping me back in.”

Oliver frowned. She’d only been impersonating Laurel in the public eye for a short while. Would she really give up the visibility and protection against Diaz that Quentin kept claiming she wanted so soon? Unless — and something cold seized his heart — this was the visible protection. A Laurel out there in the public eye and Diaz’s sights while she ran off for who-knew-where.

Could she really be? He looked in her eyes for the first time and couldn’t detect any hint of a lie. Yet somehow it still felt like he was falling into some sort of trap.

“Ollie, you’re going to miss the turn,” she said. “If that’s still where my dad lives.”

“Uh, right.” He made it sharp, then pulled up outside the apartment building. He started up to his unit and she fell right into step with him without a word.

Quentin answered the door after two knocks. He’d been expecting them since he’d been able to get the number of the return flight off his credit card purchase. Oliver had volunteered to collect her in case something more was going on than a simple joyride on Quentin’s money. Now he wasn’t sure what to say to the man.

“So, five-hundred bucks later, how do you feel?” Quentin asked her.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry,” she answered, stepping forward and wrapping him into a hug. Quentin’s eyes went wide and his arms hovered in the air. He looked to Oliver.

“She’s—” Oliver cleared his throat and tried again. “She’s claiming to be our Laurel.”

Quentin gaped. “How?”

“I can explain, I promise,” She said, then looked up. “But how are you?” One of her hands rested over Quentin’s chest.

“I- I’m not sure,” he answered.

Oliver started ushering them all inside on the off chance one of the neighbors stepped outside and heard this. They gathered in Quentin’s sitting room, Quentin on the couch, Oliver standing against the side wall and her pacing the space between couch and coffee table.

“Okay, so I guess there’s a Lazarus Pit or something like it in Eastern Russia. There’s this mountain range called Kamchatka.”

“I was talking to your sister on the phone about that,” Quentin said to him. “She — Earth 2, I mean — was in the room with me.”

“I didn’t see Thea or anyone else, but I think the League might have been set up there at some point,” she continued. “Someone’s things were left behind.”

“Malcolm’s people,” Oliver said, and watched her nod. “He’s dead, by the way.”

Siren already knew that, but this Laurel’s shock looked genuine. “How did it happen?”

“He took Thea’s place on a landmine.”

Her eyebrows raised even higher. “Contradictory to the end, then. Where’s Thea now?”

“On a mission with Nyssa and Roy.” He wondered if she thought she’d have better luck convincing his sister. Oliver wasn’t so sure, because at the moment he badly wanted to be convinced even despite the warning voices in his head urging him to hold back.

“So your doppelganger brought you back with this Pit?” Quentin asked. “I mean, why? And why the hell didn’t we think of that first?”

“The bloodlust, for one thing.” Assuming she was telling the truth, this Laurel would need the Lotus cure the same as Thea had two years ago. Oliver crossed his arms. “Have you felt any symptoms?”

“Not so far. But it’s only been a couple days since I came back.” She looked from one of them to the other. “Do I have a grave we could check so you both feel more sure about this? I can tell you I woke up in my navy blue evening dress. It was a little cold for Russia.”

“I want to believe you, honey, of course I do,” Quentin said. “You have no idea what I’d give to have you back with us.”

“Then just give me some trust,” she said, reaching for his hands. “I’m your daughter. I almost went to work at a corporate law firm in San Francisco until you called me out because you knew that wasn’t who I was. I used to race Sara up the tree in our yard, and I always let her win after the first time when I made her cry and you told me it was my job to take care of her. We went out to dinner before everything at the prison happened, and you told me you were proud of what I was doing as the Black Canary, and I finally felt like I had made it somehow! Like I’d done right by you,” She said, her voice wavering.

Quentin stood, one of his hands cupping her cheek. “It’s really you. It has to be. Oh, my baby girl.” He crushed her to him, drawing in a ragged breath as she held on just as tight. “I don’t know why she did it, but I’m just so glad it’s really you.”

Oliver had to look away. It was too hard to watch. If this was some trick, it would only hurt all the worse once it was revealed. If this was real, then he’d been nothing but cold to her since she’d returned. Why did he always have to screw up when it came to her? He knew what he felt deep in his heart, but every time it came for him to act, he just—

“Ollie.” She had come up to him at some point, and he hadn’t realized he was that far into his own head. “I know I can’t ask you to trust me. But you know me better than anyone.”

He stared at her, willing himself to find some small thing out of place. If he didn’t see it now and he let himself believe, he would be lost. He knew that much about himself. And if it was all a lie, he didn’t think he could find his way back out again this time.

“What did you tell me in the hospital?” He finally asked, his voice sounding gruff to his ears.

“That you shouldn’t try to take on everything alone,” she said. “Even if you feel you have to to protect everyone.”

She was right that those had been some of her last words, and yet he couldn’t be certain that they were the only two who knew that; he himself had told Felicity, and as much as he wanted to believe she wouldn’t have spread it, he didn’t have that guarantee.

“And the other thing?”

She hesitated, glancing back at Quentin and licking her lips. “I told you that you were the love of my life and always would be.”

He heard Quentin make some startled sound, but he was too blurry in Oliver’s vision to make out any expression. He blinked a couple times, trying to clear it so that he could see her — Laurel — and he stepped forward, cupping her face with both hands, and kissed her forehead.

Oliver wrapped her in a hug after, as it sunk in that he didn’t have to leave this time. She was here in the real world with them. Laurel was alive, so much more than a dream.

She rested her hands at his back, seeming unsure, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt over how he had practically shunned her since finding her at the airport. He held her just a little bit tighter for a moment before finally letting her go, stepping back and running both hands over his face in an excuse to wipe at his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand why you needed to check.” Her eyes stayed more on the floor than on her father as she turned to him and asked, “Could I use your guest room for a little? The time difference is kind of catching up to me.”

“Of course, honey. I, uh, had it set up for your doppelganger, but she took her things with her so it’s open.” The father and daughter headed back down the hall while Oliver walked over and sank onto the couch with unsteady legs.

Laurel was back. Truly. It was nearly overwhelming in its relief and yet the enormity of that fact was also hitting him. How did he explain this to Thea and the others hunting to find and destroy the Pits? How did he explain this to his team, whose experiences with the Laurel they’d known ranged from bad to worse? To his son, who was aware of the hero Laurel had been — and still was, now — but who had been warned to keep away from the woman who looked like her?

Quentin returned, taking his own seat in the armchair across. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“Feels like one,” Oliver agreed, knowing he had the experience to support that feeling. But there had been no strange glitches, and he was aware of all his memories, good and bad. This was all real.

“You’d think I’d get used to this. My daughters coming back, the whole world changing around us.”

Oliver nodded.

“Laurel and you.”

He froze and looked up, meeting Quentin’s gaze. “I… needed to know it was her.”

“Course you did. But I need to know things, too. Like just what your intentions are. I mean, you’re practically engaged, Oliver.”

He winced. “In a manner of speaking.” The thought caused his heart to sink deep down into his stomach or somewhere near it. A feeling he’d been having lately when his thoughts turned to Felicity and their tentative agreement.

Tentative because, and perhaps predictably, he’d started reconsidering at perhaps the worst possible moment: after their impromptu wedding alongside Barry and Iris. He had called the speedster up after the West-Allens had taken their honeymoon, just to catch up.

“We’re mostly just working on thank you cards now. Apparently super-fast writing also leads to super-fast hand cramps,” Barry had told him.

“Well, feel free to skip ours. Actually, what did we get you? Felicity never said.”

“Oh. It was, uh, an espresso machine.”

There was something off in the way Barry had said it, the pause and then the flat tone at the end. “Is it not working?”

“No, it does. I mean, I think so. I don’t actually drink much coffee since the caffeine doesn’t affect me,” Barry had admitted with an awkward laugh.

“Oh.” Oliver had felt his cheeks redden. He’d known that, thinking back on it. Shouldn’t Felicity have known that? He should have checked with her before they bought something, but she tended to take those things upon herself since she said teaching him Amazon was beyond her pay grade. “I guess Iris is making use of it?”

“A little. It wasn’t, uh, it wasn’t on the registry.” He’d been able to visualize the uncomfortable shuffling Barry must have been doing on the other end as he spoke. “She kind of had her fill of making coffee at Jitters, you know?”

“Right.” Oliver had closed his eyes, very tempted to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Could you send me the registry list? I can—”

“No, don’t buy something else. It’s fine. I mean, we’re not upset or anything.”

“About the gift,” Oliver had finished for him. “But you’re upset about something else.” Barry wouldn’t have even gone into any detail on the gift like this if something hadn’t been bothering him.

“Upset’s a strong word, Ollie. It’s just, you know, after the wedding was crashed and we lost Professor Stein and everything else, it kind of didn’t feel like our day anymore. And then we figured out a way to get some of that back and- and—”

“And we made it about us,” Oliver had realized with a wave of shame. What had ever possessed him to think that would have been a good idea? Yes, Felicity had asked, but he had been the one to start using the wedding backdrop as a way to hint he thought they should move things forward, and in doing so had upstaged Barry and Iris at their own celebration.

It had been the Lance family dinner all over again, where he’d subordinated Laurel’s feelings or those of Sara’s parents to a relationship he and she had wanted to try and force into working. Why was he always so selfish?

“Barry, I’m sorry. I don’t know what can make that up to you—”

“Look, we can just drop it, okay? What’s done is done.” Barry had sounded desperate to move on. “I just hope things work out for both of us, you know? We both got our dream come true.”

Oliver had hesitated.

“Right?”

“Yeah. Right,” he’d managed uncomfortably. Then he’d made some excuse or other and hung up the phone. He’d only felt it would have been an even lower blow to Barry to admit that his wedding hadn’t been interrupted by Oliver’s dream — far from it.

His dream was now sleeping just twenty feet down the hall.

Oliver dropped his head into his hands, feeling it starting to throb in his temples. He knew he loved Laurel and always would, had stopped denying that to himself over a year ago. But he was in a relationship — even a relatively chaste one since his misgivings about their not-quite wedding — with Felicity.

He’d been using William as an excuse, which wasn’t fair, but what he now couldn’t determine was, was it fair to William to have introduced Felicity into his life as a sort of surrogate only to end things with her? Or was his growing unhappiness in that relationship only going to teach his son a warped version of love and family?

They’d had no marriage certificate when they’d jumped in on Barry and Iris’ ceremony. They still didn’t. They weren’t really married. And he didn’t really want to ever be now. But was it right for him to start something with Felicity because he had been lonely and heartbroken, only to end it because the reason for his loneliness and heartbreak no longer existed?

“I know how I feel, I just don’t know what to do,” he admitted finally. Oliver jumped a little when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Well, the first thing you gotta do is be honest with yourself and with the people in your life about how you’re feeling.”

“How do I do that without hurting someone?”

“Sometimes you can’t,” Quentin told him. “Sometimes you just can’t control how people are gonna feel, Oliver. But you have to let them feel it in their own way.”

He was right. He was right, and Oliver knew it. He also knew that avoiding the truth to avoid pain was one of his greatest failings. But by God, he had to get past this. Not for his sake, but for the people in his life.

“I should inform the team so they can start getting used to the idea,” Oliver decided. “And I need to talk to Felicity.”

She deserved an explanation, uncomfortable as it might make him to give it. He should have been honest with her about his remaining feelings for Laurel whether she was dead or alive, that it would always be a part of him. He would be honest with her now.

Oliver left the apartment, turning and heading down the block. But as he looked back over his shoulder at the building, he frowned.

The window of the guest bedroom was open.

He turned back around, walking and then breaking out into a jog. By the time he reached the hallway to Quentin’s floor, he was flat-out running.

Oliver rapped on the doorframe, waiting with impatience for it to open. Quentin blinked in surprise when he did so. “What—”

“I need to check something.” He walked straight back down the hall and knocked on the guest bedroom door. “Laurel?”

“You said you already checked it was her, and she’s sleeping,” Quentin argued.

“I’m not checking that it’s her, I’m checking—” The door was unlocked and almost bounced off the wall when he threw it open.

Oliver’s heart froze.

“She- she’s gone!” Quentin exclaimed behind him. He brushed past Oliver, going to the window and sticking his head out. “Laurel!”

It did no good, as she hadn’t been anywhere outside when he’d noticed the open window. Why had she gone? Where had she gone? Whatever the reason or location, he had to find out, and fast.

He couldn’t lose her again. Not this time.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

643-644: "Shaking Heaven and Earth! Admiral Fujitora's Power!" and "A Blow of Anger! A Giant vs Lucy!"

Brutal.... :(

Were I to sum up 643 and 644, it would be: unexpected feels and reveals.

The feels came from poor Brutal. It was all going so well! Luffy found a new pal and then, BAM.

The reveals? Well, we have the “return” of Norland from Skypeia, for one thing. Flower Field also seems to be the location for the next Big Showdown. 

The Donquixote Family have also made some moves. Diamante has put Bellamy in an uncomfortable position and an... artistic new character has been introduced. As for Doflamingo himself, he revealed a past working relationship with Trafalgar Law (I knew it! I knew there was something there!)

Oh, and we have yet another ridiculously powerful Admiral. :D

Fujitora is My New Favourite Admiral

This entire scene escalated quickly. It went from Dodgy Dealings to Dragon Ball in the blink of an eye. Not exactly an exemplary lesson in conflict resolution, but I am not complaining. 

Because it was awesome.

Law was understandably pissed off at being duped by Doflamingo. It wasn’t really Law’s fault. He’d planned the best he could with the information he had to hand. Unfortunately, it was just as Vergo had foretold: not knowing about Doflamingo’s past would be Law’s undoing.

Law refused to hand over Caesar. Doflamigo had reneged on his side of the bargain. “The deal’s off!”

Then Doflamingo said something interesting. “Is that how you talk to your boss after ten years of silence?”

Boss? Really?

I freaking knew it. I knew there was something between Doflamingo, Law and Vergo. It was the way Vergo spoke to Law back in Punk Hazard, calling him a brat, acting as if he knew everything about Law, about how he had improved but not enough. Doflamingo treats him in a similar way. Law is from North Blue, a territory in the New World. Dressrosa is in the New World. Was Law born in a territory claimed by Doflamingo?

I wonder what caused Law to go radio silence and desert Doflamingo? It must have been something horrendous. Maybe Law knows Doflamingo a bit better than he lets on.

Whatever the case, Doflamingo was adamant in retrieving Caesar. (Caesar’s starry-eyed moment was hilarious. I’d say he’s totally in love with Doflamingo, but the only thing I’d ship Caesar with is research funding).

There was a quick, “Yeah, I’ve heard all about you” exposition moment. Just to bring any viewers up to speed on Fujitora in case they missed that awesome episode when he sent an unfortunate bunch of fodders to a hole in the ground hell. “You were appointed as  Marine Admiral through the World Military Draft,” Doflamingo said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. They say you’re a monster who wields unquestionable power as well as Ryokugyu.”

First thing: World Military Draft? That’s a new one to me. Was Fujitora plucked from obscurity to become an Admiral through a military draft? Or was he retired in some capacity and they brought him back? Whatever Fujitora’s deal is, I’d be interested in finding out.

Second thing: what the hell is a Ryokugu?

Caesar’s presence at the Green Bit beach was of great interest to Fujitora and his Marines. Fujitora knew who Caesar was, which implies he has been briefed on all the Big Criminals or he does have prior experience working with the Marines. He is also familiar The Way Things Are, as he admitted they couldn’t arrest Caesar if he was working for Doflamingo (the perks of being a Shichibukai). He knows Doflamingo is a nasty bit of work but, as Doflamingo said, he has to be able to prove it. (I wonder if Fujitora is trying to do just that?)

Interestingly, it seemed like Fujitora also tried to throw Law a similar lifeline. Law is still officially a Shichibukai. His movements are crucial to the success of the Marine’s mission. If the Strawhats were working under Law, Fujitora was prepared to ignore the alliance. However, were it an alliance of equals, it would go against the Marines’ interests and Fujitora would be forced to arrest Law.

Law made some quick calculations. His original plan had failed. Even if he selected Fujitora’s Option #1, he would have to take the matter to Dressrosa and that would only make matters worse.

He chose Option #2 and fessed up to the alliance with the Strawhats.

“Welp, guess I’ll have to arrest you!” Fujitora said.

And a beautiful, big kaboom moment happened. Not only can Fujitora fire folk into holes in the ground, he can also crush them from above. A mighty meteorite came screaming down onto Green Bit. Caesar and the Fodders scarpered. Even Doflamingo was like, “FFS, is that not excessive?”

When the smoke cleared, only the three main fighters stood on conveniently preserved pillars of ground (hilarious, classic shounen trope. Love it).

Doflamingo was not pleased. “How did the Fleet Admiral train you, you damned stray dog!”

Fujitora remained supremely unfazed. “Thank you. I just wanted to test your skills. Now I’m going to arrest you, Is that okay, Law-san?” 

He’s such a polite guy. I like him.

But there’s just one thing. Doflamingo wants Law too. I don’t think he’ll let Fujitora get his hands on Law. If that happens, Law might spill the beans (I doubt he would but it’s possible). Then all Doflamingo’s secrets will be out.

The plot chickenz.

Flower Field Rendezvous Crew

Well, I think I know where the Strawhats will reconvene once all the subplots have run their course.

Flower Field is the place to be, folks!

I’m kind of relieved Sanji is back on track again. Once he realised Law was in trouble, he called Franky to update him. I love how Franky was like, “Yo, Sanji. What’s up?” and Sanji was like, “Well, I’m in love,” and Franky just said, “That’s nice. Btw, I think I can find the factory but we can’t just destroy it and get away. It’s a much bigger task than we thought! Oh yeah, and I read the newspaper. Doflamingo sure fooled us!”

Even Franky was trying to steer Sanji back to the plot, lmao.

Then Franky mentioned he was heading to Flower Field with Sol and that Sanji should meet him there to catch up.

Sanji finally caught up with Plot and mentioned the ominous fact that he couldn’t reach Nami or any of the others on Sunny. Franky replied, “You still think she’s weak? Anyway, Brook and Monster Chopper are with her. She’ll be fine!”

I kind of think Sanji had a point here. It’s not about thinking Nami’s weak. It’s the fact she’s not answering the DDM. If I were Franky, I’d be like, “Yeah, something’s not right. Let me try and see if I can get her to answer.”

Violet then exited the plot stage left. Before she ran off, she handed Sanji a very useful piece of intel: a map to the Smile Factory (it’s disguised as a Toy House). Sanji told her to take care of herself and also where the Strawhats’ final rendezvous point is (Western Harbour). I’m still a teeny bit suspicious of her because there is still time for her to be caught by Doflamingo and sell out the Strawhats.

Then Foxfire interrupted (lmao) and announced Sanji had to accompany him to a place called Toy House right away. Turns out that’s where Kanjuuro is also being held.

Am I right to be suspicious about how easily this is all working out for the Strawhats at the moment? I feel like Doflamingo knows what they’re up to and is leading them into a trap.

Norland’s Back!

Oh, how I missed your resplendent, chestnut barnet! That’s two sneaky Skypiea callbacks now (more on that later).

And why has Norland cropped up again?

Turns out he visited the Tontatta Kingdom four-hundred years ago, as a botanist. A crew of Evil Big Humans were destroying the Tontatta Kingdom and Norland, being an Absolute Lad, fought alongside them and helped them defeat the evil Big Humans. 

Usopp, being a smart guy, noticed the statue of Norland and totally took advantage. He had a chestnut-shaped helmet on and claimed to be Usoland, a descendant of Norland himself. The Tontatta people totally believed him and now they’re waiting on him hand and foot.

Robin was like, “Usopp, you are a terrible person,” and Usopp shot back with, “Well, it saved you too!” Fair point, Usopp!

It sort of backfired on him, though, because the chief arrived and announced Usopp’s presence on this most auspicious day must be fate. Why was that? Well, today was the day the Tontatta people vowed to fight the Donquixote Family! At Dressrosa, they will fight. The commander and fellow soldiers of the King Riku Army are expecting them at Flower Field. They begged Usopp to stand at the forefront of the charge and lead them. With Usoland, the Tontatta would be unbreakable!

I wish I could have seen Robin’s face at that moment.

But Flower Field, eh? I wonder if Sol the Toy and the Resistance movement have been working with the Tontatta People to muster up this rebellion? Signs point to yes, since Wicka was super keen for Zoro to take her to Flower Field.

At any rate, that’s Franky, Zoro, Usopp and Robin all headed for Flower Field. I bet they end up caught in the crossfire. So much for remaining undercover, eh?

Not the Worst Installation I’ve Ever Seen

So... Giolla’s a bit of a character, isn’t she?

It’s like meeting Miss Goldenweek’s eccentric art teacher.

To be honest, I think Nami, Brook and Chopper got the raw end of the deal being left behind on Sunny. They’re the first ones to face off against a Donquixote Family member. And one with a pretty bizarre but cool power too.

Giolla’s introduction was pretty cool. Screechy violin harmonics hinted something sinister was afoot. Nami, Brook, Chopper and Momo peered into the dorm and were like, “wtf is this lsd nonsense?”

Then came footsteps; shoes oddly similar to the ones Doflamingo wears (there must be a Donquixote Family dresscode). A cloud of colourful smoke turned the place into coloring book land.

The Strawhats reeled back, horrified. Chopper wondered if it was the work of a Devil Fruit user.

“Bad Taste Fruit?” Brook suggested. (Lmao, Brook!)

The door creaked open and Giolla appeared in all her art-teacher glory.

Nami was like, “Who the hell are you and what have you done to Sunny?”

Giolla shrieked at her to shut up. The goons she brought with her answered Nami’s question. “This is Giolla-sama of the Donquixote Family!”

Uh oh, I thought. This could be a problem.

“I don’t like people with no artistic taste!” Giolla declared. “My soul is swinging. I see an image. My mind is about to erupt! It’s going to explode! An image of liberty and beauty.”

Then she transformed Nami, Brook, Chopper and Momo into 2D versions of themselves. Nami demanded Giolla turn them back, but, interestingly, Giolla countered she would only do that if they handed over Momonosuke without a fight. What is that all about? Hmm... I’m starting to think there is something going on with Momonosuke. Why would Doflamingo want Momo? I guess he was caught up in all the Punk Hazard stuff. Maybe it’s a “no witnesses” situation. Or maybe Momo ate a really good fruit meant for Kaidou and Doflamingo wants to sell Momo to Kaidou to make up for the cool Dragon fruit disappearing?

Whatever the real reason, the Strawhats obviously refused. Negotiations broke down. Giolla attacked again. The Strawhats hatched a plan to lure her away from Sunny but for all Giolla acts like an eccentric art teacher, she is no fool when it comes to battle.

Poor Sunny looks pretty... different at the moment. 

Nami, Brook, Chopper and Momo are also surrounded by Giolla and her goons. Have no idea how they’ll escape but I love how Brook is most concerned about how mad Franky will be when he gets back.

Press F to Pay Your Respects for Brutal

F

Oh, the unexpected feels.

It was all going so well in the Colosseum. Luffy made friends with Brutal Bull when it challenged him in the ring. They had fun for a bit but once Luffy decided it was haki time, the fight was over. To my ABSOLUTE DELIGHT, Luffy did not punch out Brutal or finish him off.

No.

They teamed up! Luffy made a new bull friend! It was so adorable watching them mercilessly mow down the other fodders. They were having such a great time.

Until Hajrudin, the Giant Fun Sponge from Elbaf totally ruined it all.

Brutal accidentally got his horns stuck in Hajrudin’s boot. Hajrudin’s big hammer came down. I gasped. No! Luffy was fine but Brutal had been crushed.

“His little bull back legs. He needs them!” I wailed.

Luffy knelt down beside Brutal and touched him gently on the shoulder. Without saying a word, I knew revenge was imminent and inevitable.You know when Luffy’s eyes shift from one to two circles that shit is about to go down.

Cape blowing in the wind, he stood up, sized up Hajrudin, and executed a haki-filled beatdown worthy of Brutal’s name.

I can’t help but wonder if this scene with Brutal was a sneaky anti-bloodsports commentary from Oda? Maybe if you squint? I mean, instead of torturing an innocent bull for fun, what Luffy did was be friends with the bull; fight *with* the bull. The one who did harm the bull received a Gear 2nd Armored Haki punch right to the face.

I kind of hope Brutal is okay. I have visions of him recovering from his injuries and spending his days trampling people in Flower Field for years to come.

Things aren’t looking quite as simple for Luffy, though.

It seems everyone on Dressrosa is trying to kill him! Diamante slipped Bellamy a note in the Donquixote Family private backstage room. Said note contained orders from Doflamingo: Bellamy is to assassinate Luffy. One last chance at promotion. Obviously, Bellamy is now conflicted about this, as Luffy cheered him on in the ring and inspired him to travel to Skypiea. (I’m leaning towards Bellamy attempting, then regretting and betraying Doflamingo.)

Cavendish Banana is also on the warpath (him fending off Bartolomeo’s food-thieving hands with a fork was hilarious. “MINE. MY FOOD. NO.”) Obviously, Cavendish’s reason for wanting to kill Luffy is profoundly shallow. “Luffy stole muh limelight, wah!”

Bartolomeo said, “Well, my connection with Strawhat Luffy is much deeper.”

I gasped. 

Yes, I thought. This is the moment. 

What is the history here? Because I have watched this show since episode one. I have a goldfish memory but I’d like to think Bartolomeo would have stood out.

But do you know what?

BARTOLOMEO LEFT IT THERE. WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

BLUE-BALLED.

FREAKING CLIFFHANGER.

Shaking my head, man. Bartolomeo, you are so rude. Such a meta character.

And by the way, there is also something up with Ricky and Rebecca. Don’t think I missed that little scene. I bet it’s something to do with Kyros. That whole thing about everyone forgetting why the statue is there is so suspicious.

[celticheartedfangirl]

In defense of Rumpelstiltskin in S5E11

I’m posting this after @sieben9 watches this episode, because I know there will be discussion on it and I want to put my two cents in without hijacking her post.  This post is bitchy and ranty and filled with my bitchy and ranty opinions, many of them negative. This post is also heavily Belle critical.  If you can’t handle that, I suggest you not read below the cut.  

I fully and one hundred percent unapologetically defend Rumple’s (badly and STUPIDLY written) decision to take back the dagger and the darkness, and here is WHY:

1.      The power is an addiction to him.  I don’t give a shit what the narrative says (or tries to say in the sloppiest way possible); he is addicted to the power.  An addiction is not easy to overcome.  

2.      Belle treated him like complete and utter shit at the well.  I’m sorry, but she did.  Her behavior toward him was inexcusable.  The deal was for her to come to the well ONLY if she wanted him back. She should have just stayed the fuck away.  PERIOD. (I will not argue this point – this is how I feel and I will never – EVER – change my mind about it.  Her behavior was garbage.  And VERY OOC, even for her. Don’t even bother trying to argue this point with me because it will be a waste of time for both of us.)

3.      Rumple was WAY more civil to Belle than a) she deserved and b) I would have been in that situation.  He gave her his CAR and told her to go do what she wanted.  I would have given her a bill for all of MY MONEY that she spent with her new boyfriend while I was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack and told her to go fuck herself, but that’s ME and I’m a petty bitch.  But Rumple was decent to her, so good on him.

4.      When he saw a “loophole” (aka bullshit from the writers to drag Rumple), he took it because the man had literally NOTHING.  He had tried to be a ‘hero’ – and what did it get him?  Belle still told him she didn’t want him.  His wife had left him.  His son was dead.  He had no friends.  And because the writers are shit, he had no relationship with his grandson and no potential for one.  So he went back to the ADDICTION he was tethered to for so long – because he literally had NO ONE to support or help him.  Basically his options at this point, as far as he knew, were a) take the darkness back and at least have THAT, or b) slowly die alone and friendless via either alcohol poisoning or heart failure, or a combination of both.  

Rumple’s choices are always – ALWAYS – 1. Crap, 2. Even crappier, or 3.  OMG that is simply AWFUL BEYOND WORDS.   There is NEVER a ‘good choice’ for him.  NEVER. He’s damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.  

So there’s that.  THEN you may say – okay – but why didn’t he tell Belle?  Why did he just go bang her and not TELL her?  

Well . . . . . I posted thoughts on this and I got a lot of shit for it.  But you know what?  I don’t care. So imma gonna say it AGAIN for those in the back:

Relationships that involve physical intimacy are INTENSE and sometimes people do NOT make good choices regarding them.  This is one of those times.  

In other words – sometimes people fuck each other without thinking about where this is going or what the consequences will be.  Because physical reactions sometimes take over rational thought.  

Now . . . . I know that there is a faction of the Rumbelle fandom that thinks that Rumbelle is some pure, holy relationship and their sex is beautiful and Rumple cries the whole time and then they both cry afterward and it’s never dirty or raunchy or just flat out FUCKING.  Which is bizarre given the amount of porn in this fandom where they rut like farm animals in heat, but whatever.

What happened in this episode was FUCKING.  I’m not gonna sanitize it.  That’s WHAT IT WAS.  It was written that way, it was framed that way before AND after.  And neither of them thought about the afterward.   NEITHER of them.  

Belle practically jumped Rumple and I’m pretty sure they had one intense session of sex right there on the floor of the pawn shop before they even got to the car to get home.  Do you really think she was interested in having a deep conversation in that moment?  Didn’t look like it to ME!

And then Rumple – who seconds before was legit sitting in his shop, stewing and swilling back alcohol – after a year and some odd whatever (who the fuck knows with this timeline anymore) of hell, the love of his life comes back and jumps him.  You really think, IN THE MOMENT, that he was gonna say “Oh by the way darling . . . . . something you should know about me . . . .”

Yeah, no.  

So after they banged on the floor of the shop (cause you know they did), when was he supposed to tell her? On the ride home?  

“Oh, by the way my love, no keep going with that hand job while I drive, I do love it . . . . ” (you KNOW that was happening)

COME ON.  Rumbelle has always been presented as a messy clusterfuck of UST even when they WERE being written in character.  This is no different.  And you think he’s gonna interrupt the moment to explain himself?

SHOULD he have?  Of course.  Should he and Belle have had a conversation before jumping in to bed? Absolutely.  They should have done that even if he HADN’T taken back the darkness.

But they didn’t, and that was actually one of the most REAL things that ever happened to this couple. Because in real life, that kind of thing happens ALL THE TIME.  

For me personally – it pisses me off that a) it’s obvious that this was a way to set up Rumple as a ‘villain’ again because heaven forbid they actually follow through with character development for him, and b) it puts Belle up on a pedestal because it makes you have to ‘choose sides’ between big bad evil Rumple who fucked his wife without telling her something and poor innocent precious princess Belle who was “duped” into sleeping with him.  Even though I just laid out a perfectly reasonable and logical case as to why BOTH OF THEM acted impulsively and stupidly but that’s just LIFE and people do that sometimes. Because we know how these writers work and how they will frame this.  Rumple:  Bad always. Belle: Good always.  That’s how the (shitty and badly written) DIALOGUE continually frames this.  And it pisses me off.  

And yes btw – there are people out there who called that scene ‘rape by deception.’ They all can take a leap into Lake Gofuckyourselves as far as I’m concerned, but whatever.  

So I left this episode firmly planted on the side of “at this point I don’t GAF what Rumple does, I side with HIM NO MATTER WHAT.”

And I STAYED THERE. FOREVER.  

BTW -- FUN FACT -- without a context spoiler -- the Rumbelle fandom were 100% certain that there would be no Rumbelle scene -- AND no BELLE -- in the next episode -- which we waited for for THREE MONTHS.

There will be one -- and most of us are convinced that it was a last minute, shoehorned in thing that the writers added because we pitched a screaming fit on Twitter at Adam that he’d better have one or we’d pitch and even BIGGER screaming fit.  

I’m absolutely, positively convinced that, had we not done that -- there would NOT be a Rumbelle scene in the next episode.  

Sometimes bitching pays off.  We should have done it more IMO.  

[deathsdeserters]

⇷

I was working on Europa for Clovis Bray as part of the Exoscience Division. My background was cryptography and number theory. I was conducting research on elliptic-curve cryptography and software obfuscation for the Deep Stone Crypt Project.

I was headed home one evening. It was a Thursday. Two days after Christmas. It’s forever cold on Europa, so you can’t tell the time of year by the weather.

It was late, but since we’re so far from the sun, it’s hard to tell the time of day. The habitat dome makes up for most of what we’re missing being 390.4 million miles from Earth.

The artificial sunlight rigs were dimmed. According to my personal assistant, it was 3:44 AM.

It wasn’t unusual for me to leave work in the early hours of the morning. I would be back to the office shortly after a little break at home. Home was a studio apartment in walking distance of the Exoscience building.

We were pioneers on a new frontier. I was no longer living in the heart of New Tokyo. I was in the shadow of the Roman god of sky and thunder.

On my quick walk to the apartment complex, I stopped at a small public park that Clovis Bray had built in the center of the almost office park we had. There was a fountain set in the middle and it was stocked with koi. There wasn’t much out here to remind me of Earth, so I was grateful for the fish.

Before I could reach the gravel pathway, I was grabbed by the back of my neck by an incredibly strong hand. The pain was so intense I couldn’t even gasp; I could only choke out intermittent sounds of pain.

“Now, now, what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out in by yourself so early in the mornin’?” The voice came from behind me, immediately behind. It was an American accent, but there was something off about it. It was hard to tell from the pain he was causing me. The voice seemed like it might belong to the hand that was gripping me like a vise. 

“You know us Japanese, give us a job big or small and we work ourselves to death.” There were two of them. I hadn’t even heard one set of footsteps, never mind two. The other voice came from my right. He sounded close to the American. His voice was flat and dry and again, there was something not quite right.

I grunted in anger and kicked backwards, connecting with the shin of the man holding me. I was met with a resistance that resonated in a sharpness that shot back up my leg.

He chuckled darkly, his friend joining him.

His leg was solid. It didn’t yield. There was no bone beneath flesh. It was metal. The shared peculiarities in their voices…it was the filters on the projection speakers for their speech processors. The strength he possessed in one hand alone, holding me by my neck like a kitten. He was an Exomind.

He was a fucking Exomind.

“What…” I could barely get that much out.

“…are we doin’?” the American Exomind finished for me. “Sorry, darlin’. Considerin’ the circumstances and things bein’ what they are…” He paused. “I could tell ya, but then I’d hafta kill ya.”

“We’re going to kill you anyways,” said his friend.

I made a noise. It was somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

“I don’t think she was keen on that.”

“Nope. Didn’t sound like it.”

The American sighed. “Okay, fair is fair. I reckon we should at least tell her why we’re doin’ the deed.”

The other Exomind made a noise of aggravation. “You always do this. You always drag things out.”

“‘Cos sometimes you gotta take the time to do it right.” He released his grip on my neck. I felt my body drop down and I nearly lost my balance. I hadn’t realized that he’d lifted me off of my feet. “There now, I got ya,” he murmured, taking me by the shoulders. He then took my wrists into his hands and held them behind me. “Just in case you get any notions,” he explained. “Now. Where was I?”

“You were about to do the stupid move of explaining the entire plot to her,” his friend said.

“Right. Evil plans. Well, you see, Dr. Shiba — wait, can I call you Atsuko? Is that okay? What about Suko? I heard you like that one. No? Oookay, I get it. I’ll stick with the doctor thing. Anyways, Dr. Shiba, the research you’re doing? It’s some Cracker Jack stuff, lemme tell ya, got the higher ups very excited about the, what did they call it?”

“Potential military and private security applications.”

“Pfft, always the jarheads and the cop wannabes. So that research of yours is going to change things, doc. It’s gonna change a lot of things in the Exo program.”

“No more jacks, no more crackings, no more backhacks.”

“Thank you for that, Dr. Shiba. And I mean that. Also, I’m sorry that we have to kill you…but that’s just how things are.”

I swallowed, my throat dry and aching, and asked,” But why? Why kill me? I don’t understand.” The words came out haltingly and as little more than a rasp.

There was a soft huff behind me. “You know too much, doc. It’s the old cliche. All of the research is getting duped and dumped and you happen to be…”

“…a file that needs erasing,” finished his partner. “厳しいですが、すみません。”

I struggled in his grip and as I was thinking to scream my throat raw and bloody he clamped a hand over my mouth. He was wearing leather gloves. He smelled like a mix of charcoal, cigarette smoke, and whiskey.

He pulled me to him and began to half push, half drag me toward the arboretum. I was in a full panic. It was impossible for me to fight my way out of the grasp of an Exomind and I would not be able to do anything against two Exominds, let alone one in order to escape.

Once we reached the arboretum, the American took a deep turn to the right of it. I didn’t understand at first where he was taking me. Then, as I saw his destination drawing closer, I knew how they were going to kill me.

Even though I knew it to be fruitless, I struggled and shouted against his gloved palm and dug in my heels and did all I could to try to stop what was happening. But nothing changed. He never deviated from his course.

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said to me. He sounded almost sorry.

We soon reached one of many caissons that dotted the landscape of the dome. The American pushed me closer and closer to the one located behind the arboretum. Once we’d reached the structure, the American leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“I really don’t like doin’ this to ya, doc, but I don’t got much of a choice seein’ as how Clovis Bray runs the show here. I’m real sorry about this.”

I could hear his friend remove the access panel and the safety grill that barred entry to the chambers of the cassion. Then the American began pushing me again. When I tried to resist, he kicked me in the back of my knees, both of them. I screamed into his hand. It felt as though ligaments tore on impact. I immediately went limp and became pliant, easier for him to carry up the pathway and then the stairs.

He eased me into the frigid waters of Europa, holding my by the top of my head. There was nothing I could do to save myself.

He held me beneath the surface until my arms stopped flailing and my legs stopped kicking. It didn’t take long due to the temperature. As I began to sink, my lungs and body exhausted and organs failing, shutting down, I was finally able to look up.

I saw them staring back at me, watching, their eyes glittering clearly through the water as I descended into the black. One pair of gleaming blue, one pair of shining turquoise. Then they were gone.

I was left with the bitter cold of Europa and the Roman god in my fading view.

@gunslingiing

[isthemedia]

Ya know what? Last Hurrah time if anything happens to my Tumblr!

Below will be the 1st chapter of the sequel to “What do I Dream to be” (title pending)

The first chapter of the Non-Despair AU-prologue here

And the WIP of the Post Game Fic Prologue.

Finishing up the sequel to “What do I Dream to be” (FUCK YEAH I’m on chapter 7!)

                                                         Chapter 1

“You ever going to tell me your name?”

Eraser huffed as he glared at the blonde. They were sitting...somewhere. He couldn’t tell where. Everything was distorted and nothing looked familiar.

The blonde was still grinning.

“...maybe someday.”

He couldn’t stop the small smirk that crossed his face when the blonde whined.

“Come oooooooon,” he drew out and leaned against him. “Give me something!”

Eraser rolled his eyes and pushed the other away. “Fine...if you want something...I like peach things.”

Bright green eyes--

No wait...red?

No wait, they’re green again?

“Peach things?” The other boy stared at him

“I like the flavor.”

There was a beat before he saw that bright smile again--

And then two large hands from the dark reached out and roughly pulled the blonde away. He could hear the blonde scream and reach out for him.

Eraser reached back, but felt hands take ahold of him and pull away.

“H-HIZASHI!”

“Eraser!”

Blurry eyes flew open as he felt his chest heaving as he took in deep breaths. Eyes darting around before settling on the face that was over his. Those bright green eyes filled with worry.

Green…?

He felt gentle hands cups his face.

“You’re alright,” Hizashi murmured and leaned in, giving him a soft kiss. “You’re alright...a-and I’m right here.”

Eraser nodded some as he finally got his breathing back under control. They stay quiet for a bit, Hizashi nuzzling him gently.

“You were calling my name…”

“...you were...taken away,” Eraser replied.

Hizashi gave a soft kiss. “I’m right here.”

The eraser user wrapped his arms around Hizashi and pulled him close. The blonde sighed happily as he settled against him. Enjoying the moment of them being so close with one another.

“Hey, think we should get up and go out for a bit?” Hizashi suggested. It was nearing evening. He was getting used to this out of whack sleeping schedule; the lack of windows helped with that.

“Do we?”

“Maybe some fresh air and a bite? I...just never heard you scream like that.”

The worry in the blonde’s voice made Eraser stop any further arguments. He nodded.

The two dressed in silence, the air still a bit tense.

“...you asked for my name,” Eraser said.

“I, what?”

“In my dream...you asked for my name…” he felt his brows furrow. “I...I can’t even remember it.”

Hizashi gave a sad smile before walking over to him, pulling his shirt on before wrapping his arms around him. “It’s alright Eraser...I mean I want to know it,” he began. “But, nothing would change now if I did know it. I would still love you if you were Yuki, Hajime, or even Karou. It wouldn’t change who YOU are.”

Eraser blushed slight and scoffed. “You’re such a sap.”

“And I’m ALL yours!” Hizashi grinned and kissed him on the cheek with an exaggerated ‘mwah’. “Come on, I’m realizing I’m starving, and it’s Friday...we should be in the clear.”

“....I need more protein gels too.”

“Wanna see if we can find those peach ones again?”  

The was a brief replay of his dream that ran through Eraser’s mind. How normal, and almost real it felt. Shaking it off he nodded and gave a soft smile to Hizashi.

--

‘Toonuchi Financial Group is another victim to be added to the list of those hit by the string of arsons. Surveillance video shows that last evening a disruption occurred that was enough to cause the cameras to malfunction. Upon closer inspection, it can be confirmed that the damage to them, was caused by a high increase of pressure.

Pressure, created by a devastating sound the decibels reaching over 150.’

“They know it was you,” Eraser said as he glanced over to the TV playing in the bar.

“Even if I didn’t do that, they would have pinned it on me,” Hizashi said as he took a drink of his beer.

One of the few things Hizashi learned about enjoying being in the Marunouchi was how desolate it was when it came to the weekend. It was when he and Eraser could go out in civilian wear and nobody was the wiser.

It was obvious that Eraser never took the opportunity to go out and about, until well...everything that happened a few months ago.

The more he was with Eraser, he felt the underlying familiarity. He remembers when he ran out to get some minor groceries he came across some of these peach protein gels. There was a nagging in the back of his mind telling him to get them, that the other had a fondness for the sweet flavor. So he did. The way Eraser’s eyes lit up was well worth the risk of following that nagging.

“We shouldn’t stay out much longer,” Eraser said, he feet kicking at one of the shopping bags they had sitting under the table.

“Right right...one more after this right?” Hizashi asked, eyes darting to the TV quickly, the hidden message under the question coming through clearly.

Eraser nodded. “Yeah…”

“Then what? You said, the doctors were good...but who else?”

“Some of the guards, though most are blacked out too. Then…” Eraser hesitated. “Then...Kaiguchi…”

Hizashi coughed as he choked on his beer. “K-Kaiguchi Kanjirou?” The ‘Man of the Year’ for businesses three years running? The man behind several ‘saved’ businesses? The man who HELPED fund multiple Quirk assistant charities?! The man that helped fund the Quirk research for doctors!?

HE was part of it!? HE was part of the Quirk Advancement Program!?

Hizashi took a calming breath. Alright, alright, i-it could make sense. The guy coulda been duped into thinking it really was helping them. Right? He met the guy a few times. Intimidating as hell, but his heart was in the right pla--  

“He…” Eraser felt himself shake a little, and it felt like ice settled at the the pit of his stomach. Everything around him was starting to go hazy, as that sweet scent of cigar smoke was suddenly filling his senses. He jumped when he felt hands cover his. Looking up he could see Hizashi looking at him, green eyes filled with worry and a bit of panic. He opened his mouth and Hizashi cut him off.

“Don’t...y-you don’t have to talk about him, alright? Let’s get going, yeah? Head on back, maybe watch something?” The way Eraser acted...shit what did this guy know? Did he know? What was Kaiguchi Kanjirou’s connection?

Eraser nodded. He’d normally make some snappy remark but he just couldn't bring himself to do it this time. The only thing he knew he could be sure of, is how grateful he was that Hizashi was here…

With him.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Non-despair Ishimondo and other ships fic-basically a fic of about accepting themselves beyond their Ultimate.

                                                  Chapter 1

Transitioning to Hope’s Peak from Kaiseidan High wasn’t as difficult had Ishimaru thought it would be. The atmosphere was different, more elite and pronounced, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It almost felt natural to be here.

At first he tried to get use to some of his classmates, though most seemed to just ignore him despite his best attempts to maintain his...as Sotaru-kun called it “Moral Compass” personality.

For a brief moment he was certain that he was going to maintain his...rather lonesome social standings at this new school as well-but that changed after about a month into the school year.

Mondo Oowada.

In all honesty Ishimaru was certain he and the Ultimate Bike Gang Leader were going to be at each other’s throats at all times. They were, afterall, at opposite ends of the spectrum. However, maybe through with dealing with people like Noitaka-kun, it seemed that they manage to form some sort of comradery between them.  

No, not a comradery, that word didn’t hold the weight of the connection between them properly.

A brotherhood of sorts was formed.

A deep brotherly bond. He rarely had to worry about spending his free time alone. The biker’s presence a near constant thing. It lead him to form another friendship with his classmate Chihiro Fujisaki. The two favored to spend more quiet time while Mondo would attempt to slack off between classes; the latter would occasionally try to catch a quick nap.

He and Chihiro would take the time to talk about simple things and such. Ishimaru couldn’t understand a lot of the jargon the other would use when trying to explain their next pet project they were working on, but he enjoyed the conversation nevertheless.

He was also grateful that when the bell rang, he wasn’t alone in trying to wake the boker up from his sleep.

All further hesitations and doubts about attending such a prestigious school were almost instantly lifted knowing that his brother, his kyoudai would be there besides him.

Ishimaru found himself being able to speak again with the authority he once had; and even though there were times where he felt ineffective...the times where he wasn’t feeling as such greatly overshadowed them. Case in point would be what have just transpired moments ago.

It was a rare sight to see Togami Byakuya attend gym. The Ultimate Affluent Prodigy not seeing the reason for him to attend such a class he viewed as beneath him. It was almost as rare as seeing Fukawa and Celeste to partake in it as well.

It wasn’t as if the heir was out of shape, quite the contrary, Byakuya was nearly at the peak of physical prowess.

However…

No amount of physical aptitude could prepare anyone from taking a hit to the face by a dodgeball from the Ultimate Baseball Star. Leon yelled out some profanities along with apologies.

Ishimaru without hesitation helped the other boy up, ignoring the protest and verbal berating the other dished out. Bringing the other to the locker room where Ishimaru was able to not only find the first aid kit, but a small repair kit for glasses.

Luckily enough it seemed that Byakuya's glasses didn’t sustain any damage, just smudged lenses. A feat a bit shocking since the blow was hard enough to cause the other’s nose to bleed and split his lower lip.

Byakuya swiped the small cloth, claiming he was quite capable of handling this himself. Ishimaru was still unsure how to actually speak with the other, he always seem--no, he most definitely does just brush off whatever he says. He stood there a bit awkwardly before something caught his eye.

He probably wouldn’t have seen it if Byakuya didn’t shift on the bench to tend to his still slightly bleeding nose. But peaking out from the bottom of his gym shorts was a patch of bruising skin. At first Ishimaru thought that perhaps it was from the fall he took from getting hit.

But there was something more to it.

There was a little bit of drying blood...from what looked like small indentations from a pronged item. Almost like a for--

“Did you--”

“What?” The other snapped as he put his glasses back on.  

“Your leg,” Ishimaru gestured to it.

“It’s nothing. Merely a distraction tactic,” Byakuya stated as he stood up, tossing dirtied cloth at Ishimaru's feet.

“A distraction tact--”

“Not everyone can be as open about certain sides of themselves,” Byakuya cut him off. “We can’t all be open as you and that punk are.”

“Open?” Ishimaru repeated. What was he going on about--oh wait! Didn’t he explain that there’s that unspoken war among all the other potential heirs? So did that mean that he felt guilty for wanting some sort of sibling relationship that he and Mondo had. “I don’t see what’s wrong with you wanting to have a brotherly bond like Mondo and I have! In fact it might be for the best for you! Having that bond can empower you in a way you never felt before!”

Byakuya stared at him. As if he was trying to process the outburst. Was he really that…?

The Affluent Prodigy scoffed out a dry laugh, which only had the other’s look of confusion grow. He almost felt pity for him...not really understanding what he meant. And perhaps a small amount to the Bike Gang Leader for showing interest in somebody so dense.  

“It would be best for you to believe me when I say, that it is not as easy as you make it out to be,” he said to Ishimaru before turning on his heel to go back to class.

No...wanting something you know you cannot have. And knowing you can’t have it...sometimes a distraction no matter how brutal can be the only course of action.

“Hey, Togami?”

Dammit.

“You alright? It looked like Leon hit you pretty badly,” Makoto asked as he approached the other. “He feels really bad about it.”

“He should be fine,” another voice added. “Even with his strength, there wouldn’t be enough force to break his nose.”

And Byakuya internally cursed once again. Because of course, wherever Makato was, Kyouko was going to be close by. He reached up to push his glasses up, and put pressure along the still tender nose bridge in an attempt to distract.

Pain.

Pain was always the best course for his needed distraction.

“I’m fine. I do not need the likes of you to concern yourselves over me,” he huffed and pushed passed...despite the gentle warmth that settled in his stomach.

Dammit, this wasn’t enough this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post-Game 1&2 fic with the victims/perps trying to escape Hope Peak and get out into the world.–Ishimodo, SayaLeo, and slight Celeste/Hifumi (just to clear up, perps and victims form Game1 Only)

                                                    Prologue (WIP)

When she woke  up…

She screamed.

She screamed and thrashed and kicked.

She was somewhere...somewhere small.

Cold…

Trapped.

She kicked harder and harder. Flashes of pain shot up her leg but she couldn’t be deterred.

She...she needed to get out.

She needed to…

To…

To apologize.

To apologize to them.

Her screaming gave way to crying and small sniffling.

She was sorry.

She was so so sorry.

She was sorry to Makoto...she was going to try and frame him.

She was sorry for Leon...even he tried to talk her down, she refused to listen. If she would have then maybe--

They was shouting above her.

Her eyes widened. She kicked harder and harder and soon she heard something crack…

And a tiny door creaked open.

--

She scrambled out of wherever it was...her foot hurt she definitely much have bruised it--

She couldn’t focus on that right now, the banging and yelling was growing more frantic. Looking to see--w-was this a morgue? It was cold...b-but shouldn’t it be colder?

Ah there was water everywhere…

A light was flickering on one of the doors, where the yelling was coming from. Pushing herself to her feet she rushed over-yeah foot is very much bruised--

Open, open! Why won’t it open!? Ah she couldn’t concentrate with the yelling.

She opened her mouth a few times but couldn’t get any words to come out. Not at first...then that little door was being kicked it, and the light flickered again. Maybe---maybe!

“LEON!”

And then the yelling stopped.

“Leon! Please listen, keep kicking at the door, there’s a keypad--”

“S-Sayaka?”

“Y-yes, i-it’s me…”

“Oh god...oh fuck! Say-Sayaka! I-I’m sorry! I-I’m so--”

“Later! Let's get you out of here first!” She heard a small sound, almost like a huff and the kicking proceeded. The door jostled and the light flickered. All the while she kept pressing buttons on the keypad.

Maybe they could break it? She remembered something like this happening to her on tour once. Well not this exactly….but still.

Then the light flickered faster and faster and then--

It went off…

And a click.

And the small door slowly opened.

She backed away just as the door was kicked open, and out scrambled a shaking and shivering Leon Kuwata.

Her heart was slowing down some. The adrenaline was rushing out…

And she cried.

--

Leon could feel himself shake as he tried to catch his breath. His lungs felt like they were burning and fuck his foot hurt. What happened? Didn’t he die? A thousand fucking baseballs to his body--

He whipped around when he heard the crying.

And there she was…

She was alive.

She was alive and crying and--

He fell back with a cough as she threw herself at him. She held onto him as she continued crying. Repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. The pain...and remorse...he found himself wrapping his arms around her as his own tears flowed.

Each ‘I’m sorry’ Sayaka said he echoed.

Neither of them could tell how long it was, but when they finally were able to calm down-eyes and throats hurting-they tried to get their breathing back under control. It was the only sound in that room for the time being.

Sayaka sniffled as she pushed herself up and rubbed at her eye, and Leon pushed himself up. He looked around...just what was this room? Why was everything so...freaking wet?

“I’m sorry…”

Leon looked over to her, and gently reached to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I think we shared enough of those for right now...I-I wanna talk about it more but...we--”

Sayaka took a shaky breath and nodded “W-we should really f-figure out where we are.”

“And how they hell we’re alive…” Leon said as he looked along the wall to see more

[isuzukuretsuki]

I finally fucking did it.

I’m finally done Saeran’s route completely, bad ends and everything.

But at what cost my sanity

Anyway I already shared my some of my thoughts on Saeran’s route here and here but I really want to put a more cohesive post about Saeran’s route because I loved this route to hell and back and no words are ever going to completely express this but I want to try anyway. Rest is under cut. 

I’m gonna say it right now but Saeran is like the Jieun of Mystic Messenger. Basically his route is so high up there and is so superior to the other routes (in my opinion only!!!!) that he (and Seven) practically carry Mystic Messenger. This boy makes this game. He’s the damn star of this game. Mystic Messenger would be nowhere near as good of a game without his character and his story; and I would be nowhere near as invested as I am without him. Hell, if it weren’t for Saeran, this game wouldn’t even be memorable to me. If you were to ask me to do a “pros and cons” for Mystic Messenger as a game, the first pro I’d put down would actually be “Saeran”.

Saeran’s route is just..... I can’t even begin to talk about it? It’s absolutely amazing. It’s one of the very few routes that are both very emotional driven and also very well written in terms of plot and pacing. I feel like a lot of otome games usually sacrifice one for the other but Saeran’s route isn’t like that at all. It made me feel tense, anxious, genuinely heart broken, thrilled, satisfied and over-the-moon happy all at the same time. This is literally one of the first times that I actually cried tears of happiness from playing a game. But for all the emotional roller coaster that it is, it’s also very well written and it didn’t feel like any of the plot points were dragged on for too long though the Zen and Yoosung chats were completely unnecessary and could have been completely cut out. Rika and her dumbass cult subplot is also skirting on thin ice but it didn’t get too bad. Though Rika was an insufferable little bitch but this post isn’t about her.

While Rika sort of became a joke of a villain and became less threatening and more annoying, her annoying presence combined with the Prime Minister plot still made the conflict feel very tense and you could feel how high the stakes were. This is a big step up compared to the original story where the stakes were so low that they had to use cliche cardboard cut out drama queens like Echo Girl, and the Choi sisters just to make petty, stupid, lackluster drama because Cheritz doesn’t know How to Pace their overarching storyline.

But anyway!! I didn’t think I’d be able to love Saeran’s character more prior his route but his route definitely blew me away to the point that my love for Saeran is so high that it’s probably on a whole other astral plane.

Like. His character development is incredible. His character is incredible. Out of all the Mystic Messenger characters, he definitely has by far the best and most well written arc out of everyone. While I’m still kind of iffy about his implied DID / multiple personalities mumbo jumbo... it could have been worse *glares at how they handled Rika’s mental illness in the SEs*. I’m kind of cheesed how they left it vague in the end but a part of me also feels like if Cheritz tried to elaborate on it more they’d just end up digging a hole for themselves because their ability to properly write mental illness isn’t... the best. Despite the rocky bumps, I still do think that they did Saeran justice though, so I’m satisfied enough.

Watching Saeran overcome his demons and grow as a person was just so, so fulfilling... like he’s come so far and no words can even begin to describe just how proud I am of him. I remember I said before prior to Saeran’s route release that Saeran’s happy ending isn’t really in the secret ends because his defection from Mint Eye/recovery is all forced and dictated by those around him (literally just like how all his actions in Mint Eye was forced by Rika) but it doesn’t have to be forced. And this route has proven that point beautifully: unlike in the SEs, in Saeran’s route, nothing is forced on Saeran. You see Saeran rise up, take charge, and make his own decisions for himself and it’s far more fulfilling than any bullshit “”happy ending”” he got in the secret ends. It’s less of MC saving Saeran and more of MC encouraging Saeran to save himself and I love it.

There’s literally no other character that has wormed their way into my heart the same way Saeran has. Saeran isn’t fully recovered by the end of his route but I just have so much hope for him. He was given literally one, slim shot at freedom and happiness and he took the leap of faith despite all odds being against him like a trooper, so how can I not be so proud and happy and hopeful for him.

The flower language surrounding his character was absolutely beautiful. Unlike in V’s route where all the metaphorical talk about the sun just got annoying and outright insufferable, the flower language surrounding Saeran gave his character so much more depth, especially considering how passionate he is about flowers. 

Speaking of V’s route... V’s route doesn’t even hold a candle against Saeran’s route and I’m not just saying this because I’m Saeran bias. V’s route felt like a god damn rough draft for Saeran’s route for fuck’s sake. This is literally like the Chojiro-Gekkamaru issue all over again. You can obviously tell that the writers put a lot more thought and care into curating Saeran’s storyline compared to V and on one hand it kinda sucks how much V got the short end of the stick, but on the other hand, I’m so glad Saeran’s route wasn’t the same chaotic disaster as V’s. Sorry V fans, V’s route did not do it for me.

Also!!!! The ost? INCREDIBLE. This also extends to V’s route. I’m still kind of annoyed that the beautiful��ost that played in Another Story’s prologue which was universally acknowledged as Ray’s theme turned out to be Rika’s theme (I feel duped) 

Literally.... the ost just keeps getting better and better. Every new ost piece in Another Story is absolutely phenomenal. Saeran’s theme in particular, from “Endless Struggle” to “I am the Strongest” just SCREAMS his character so much like his theme songs Embody his character. The composer deserves a freaking medal because I don’t think there will be another otome game with ost topping Another Story anytime soon.

Speaking of medals, his god damn voice actor deserves a medal too. Like I thought Saeran’s va’s performance was top notch in the secret ends but Saeran’s route really showcases just how talented this man is at voice acting. Sujin Kang Did Not Disappoint. He’s by far the strongest va in the mm cast imho.

Honestly if you thought I couldn’t gush more at how much I love Saeran’s route, his ending movie was stunningly gorgeous. “Four Seasons” is definitely my favourite song out of all the Cheritz songs. The melody is beautiful, the singing is beautiful and the lyrics fit Saeran so much. Watching the ending movie at the end of the roller coaster was just such a satisfying way to end it.

Actually... what was more satisfying was being allowed to vote for a charity group for Cheritz to donate their profits to. After playing through Saeran’s route, and watching the horrific child abuse that Saeran had to go through, voting for “Happiness for all Children” just felt so... fulfilling? Wholesome? I know a single vote isn’t actually going to do much in the long run but just the thought of being able to make even a tiny difference in the real world made me feel happy. I don’t have a soft spot for children, but when presented with the option to vote for a charity group immediately after Saeran’s route, a part of me was just screaming “vote for Happiness for all Children because absolutely no child should ever go through what Saeran went through in real life”. I know Saeran is a fictional character and MM is a fictional story but some of the shit just felt... so real. It made me fear that a child in real life might be going through something similar and Saeran’s route made me realize that I really don’t want that at all.

TLDR; SAERAN’S ROUTE IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE AND AMAZING. Not only was it really well written and really emotional, it seriously moved me in a way no other game has ever. I love it to the depth of my bones and I’m glad that they gave Saeran such a phenomenal route because his character is amazing and he really deserves the love he got.

[angrybomberanian]

Could you do a Bakugou fic with 1 please? It's sort of out of character but I love it!

I would like everyone to know how BAD I AM AT ANGST! Therefore I turned this into something sort of different. Also its FUCKING LONG!

All of your friends were fairly against it. This was the boy that made a terrible spectacle of himself at the sports festival your first year at UA. The League of Villains had singled him out as an asset to them. The only friend you had that didn’t think you and Bakugou dating was a bad idea, was Kirishima, the one that told you that he liked you in the first place. You wanted to be mad at him, at both of them. They were causing so much turmoil between you and your other friends. When it came down to who was to blame though, you had no one but yourself. All you had to do was stand up for yourself and tell your friends that you’re going to make your own decision about dating him. He was working for one of the best agencies within his first two years out of UA after all! But would you really date someone just because of their job and status?

You screamed into your pillow out of frustration. You were mad. Mad at Kirishima, mad at your friends, mad at yourself, mad at the world for this culmination of events. That was when the devil himself texted you.

Kirishima: Hey! Long weekend! Let’s get drunk!

You sighed. You’re an idiot. Fine.

The second you stepped into the bar, you knew it was a mistake. It was another one of his dumb ideas of “helping”. On one side of Kirishima was Mina, the cheery girl that you kind of knew because the two of them were friends. She wasn’t the issue. Bakugou standing in front of him though? That was a major issue. His back was to the door, but you could tell it was him from his spiky blond hair, almost hunched over posture, his strong arms, his defined shoulders… Fuck. Stop. No. You’re not doing this to yourself again. You were about to turn and walk out when Kirishima waved to you. Now you were stuck and even worse, Bakugou was turning around to see who he was waving to. You clenched your jaw and steeled your nerves. No turning back now, you told yourself and walked deeper into the bar.

Mina ran around Kirishima to hug you first as you approached the group, then Kirishima greeted you. “I hate you,” you whispered in his ear before pulling away from the hug.

“Bakugou, you remember my friend, (Y/N), right?” Kirishima asked with the biggest shit eating grin. You wanted to slap him. Of course he remembered you. He was probably the reason you were invited. You dared to look at Bakugou and saw that he wasn’t feeling any more comfortable than you were.

“Well,” you cut the tension, “you invited me here to get drunk so…” You patted Kirishima on the shoulder and walked away toward the bar to get a shot. If you had to do this you were going to do this with some alcohol in your system.

Mina cheered you on and followed you. “I want you to know I had nothing to do with this,” Mina told you once the two of you were far enough away from the boys.

“It’s fine, he’s an idiot.” As outwardly angry as you were at your friend for tricking you like this, you couldn’t really say that you totally were angry with him. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip flutter a little when you realized Bakugou was there. Maybe all you needed to make your decision was some time to be yourself. That was why you spent time with Kirishima anyway, he wasn’t expecting you to act any certain way. And maybe if you got to know Bakugou a bit, that might help too. When you finally got the bartender’s attention, you ordered the first thing you could think of: whiskey shot.

“Make it two!” a husky voice shouted over your shoulder. When you turned around, Bakugou was leaning on the bar staring at you. Neither of you said anything, but when the bartender came over with the shots he pulled out his wallet and paid for both of them before you could register how much it was.

“I can pay for myself,” you complained.

“Shit for brains duped both of us. That was the money I owed him from last week.” Bakugou picked up your shot and passed it to you, then held up his, waiting for you.

You looked back to Mina for any reason she should refuse, but she just shrugged. You picked up your shot, clinked glasses with him and both of you took your shots.

“Alright, I’m picking the next one,” Bakugou said after swallowing. It was like it didn’t even burn him at all even though it was anything but smooth.

“Next one?”

“You ordered a shitty ass whiskey!”

“I didn’t order any specific whiskey,” you shot back.

“There’s your problem!” Bakugou flagged down the bartender and ordered two more shots. Before you realized, you were four shots in. Or was it five? All you knew for certain was Bakugou’s arm was conveniently on the bar in the spot you were leaning on and you were too fuzzy to know if it was on purpose.

Kirishima had said something Bakugou and the two laughed before he walked away, and Mina shrieked something about requesting a song and then you two were alone, in uneasy silence.

“Give me a chance,” he finally blurted out. It was so sudden and his voice was so close it made you jump. You tried to stutter out some sort of question but he kept going. “I know I’m not the smoothest guy or the easiest person to get along with and you’ve seen how rough around the edges I can be, but I’m not always like that. We’ve been getting along so far, so…give me a chance.”

He was right. You two had been getting along and at some point while he was talking you became aware of his hand actually on your waist and you had no intention of pulling away.

“Was this your plan? Get me drunk and then spring this on me?” you asked. As soon as the words left your mouth you knew it was a terrible idea but you couldn’t take it back. It was his fault for buying you so many shots. He studied you carefully and silently. His hand on your waist was getting warmer and you couldn’t tell if it was your imagination or if he was activating his quirk to get back at you for saying that. “It’s not my fault three shots gets you drunk, you lightweight,” he finally said. Before you could argue that it was definitely more than three, Bakugou took your phone out of your hand and put his phone number in it. “Don’t decide now if you’re too drunk or something. Text me tomorrow or something.” He took his hand off your waist and walked away. He stopped to say something to Kirishima, then walked out of the bar.

The next day, with a clear mind, you only had good memories from your time talking and drinking with Bakugou and you knew you had made your decision.

To: Bakugou

How does lunch tomorrow sound? You held your breath as the three dots showed up immediately on your screen.

Bakugou: I like the sound of dinner tonight better.

–Mod Zap