#so. i think its obvious that i finally got proper tools

[awerzo]

Boddho, caress his roots

[alki-studio]

HxH manga rebinding! (vol. 1)

(project master post here)

Let me just start this off with that from my 7 years of experience bookbinding, a LOT went wrong with this project. Like, almost everything that could've went wrong. It is not to my usual standard of work, though I tried to make up for errors where I could.

Nonetheless, I'm doing this for practice and to document my progress, so here's how it went!

⍔ (More final pics at the end) ⍔

I absolutely adore the cover of the first volume as-is. It's really great graphically: the palette pops and gives a clear hierarchy to information in different areas, the illustration of Gon on the frog is super cute, it's overall just fun.

My first design decision was to retain the green/yellow/red color palette. I don't think I've ever done anything with these colors, I don't really gravitate towards them, so I definitely wanted to keep them in the design.

I didn't have a piece of leather large enough in any of these colors-- all the leather I use is industry scraps and remnants, so I don't really purchase full hides. So, I had to get creative with it:

I did have enough of this laurel green leather to cover a front and back board, but I'd need to hide the seam along the spine. I also have this really cool tie silk jacquard, I want to guess it's from the 80's (I got it for a dollar at a flea market). Technically I'm using the backside of this stuff, but I like it better because of how vibrant the colors are. I only need a thin strip for the spine, so I cut out a matching green, yellow, and orange section.

Here are some reject cover material contenders: different leathers, vintage kimono silk, and snakeskin!

I didn't want to just copy the cover for the board design, so I looked at the panels for some inspiration. My favorite panel from volume 1 is actually of the tunnel from the Hunter exam (left), but since this is the first volume, I really wanted to pay homage to this being the beginning of Gon's journey. So, I included this panel of Whale Island (right), along with a wave pattern.

Here's the design I sketched out, and it carved into chipboard:

Normally I'd just sketch directly onto the chipboard I'm carving, but I wanted to have a template to use for gold foiling. This is my first attempt at doing so; I don't actually have the proper tools for traditional hot stamping, so I'm using a hot foil pen (video on the tool/technique).

First mistake: Trying to brute force the original cover off the block. Lesson: Use a heat gun.

Removing the text block from the original softcover was pretty straightforward, except I originally tried to get the cover off the block by gentle tearing/cutting away at the original glue, which resulted in me just destroying the attached page anyway. This volume doesn't give you many "junk" pages to sacrifice, so it meant I'd have to glue my end paper onto the last page of the volume D:

For the other cover, I hit it with a heat gun for a few seconds, and it peeled right off.

Here's a progress shot of attaching the leather to the boards, smooth sailing there:

Second mistake: Not backing fabric with Heat n' Bond Lesson: Always make bookcloth properly

I have made my own bookcloth before (video on how to do it), and really, truly, know better than to apply liquid glue to fabric. Nonetheless, I was stupid and did it anyway. I even diluted the glue with water, thinking that would mitigate the effects of glue seepage? It didn't. My spine fabric lost all its vibrancy and was just an ugly, goopy mess.

Before I attached the board and spine to the block and endpapers, I added the foiling. At first, that came out pretty well, but then I lost patience, and started freehanding Whale Island on the back.

Third mistake: Not sticking to the template Lesson: Stick to the fucking template (and start saving for a CNC)

The drawing itself was fine, so normally this wouldn't be an issue, but because I have Whale Island sitting on top of a raised embossed silhouette, it was painfully obvious that my drawing wasn't in the position or scale it was supposed to be. My freehand lettering also leaves something to be desired, though I don't think the template would have helped a lot with this either. Honestly, for a position-sensitive blind transfer for lettering like this, using a CNC like a Cricut or Silhouette would be best. This might be my push to finally invest in one?

The endpapers are actually paper I had marbled myself, a while back, and met the green/yellow criteria. Attaching those to the block went smoothly, though I had to slightly glue over the panels at the back of the volume T^T... I used some of the spine fabric for head/endbands as well. It's... pretty ugly up close. Glue seepage, and the next mistake.

Fourth mistake: Gluing the entire fucking block upside down Lesson: Anything but that

The cosmetic mistakes on the cover this book are pretty forgivable, but the inside is a genuinely disgusting mess. I was working on getting this done before a friend came over, and was pretty happy to get the block glued in and the whole thing in the press before she arrived. I decided to take it out of the press show her when she arrived, only to realize I HAD GLUED THE BLOCK UPSIDE DOWN. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I tried to remove the block nicely, but the glue was already half dry and tacky and it was an awful awful mess, and I was already SO DONE with the project. So, I just cut the block out along the middle of the endpaper, and stepped away for the evening.

I really wanted to use the marbled paper I made, and I had no scraps to use over the seam where I had to flip the block, so I had to find a complimentary alternative. I just used some chiyogami, with, once again, green/yellow/red. Slapped that on the seam. Probably could've done a better job with it.

I had been saving the original covers, and wanted to incorporate them, so I decided to use them as sort of bookmark pages? Not sure how to call it, but like how hardcovers with a paper cover will have those folded flaps on the inside usually with an about or review section.

As for the cosmetic fixes:

First thing I did was properly make bookcloth with the sliver of extra silk in the right colorway that I had, and glued that over the lumpy fucked up original spine. It's not perfect by any means, but it's definitely a lot better.

When I started writing this, I had only done gold foil on the covers. But as I was looking back at early design process photos, I remember how much I wanted to incorporate the red into the design, which mine was absent of. So, I started to accent Gon and the frog with red paint.

It looked absolutely horrifying.

So I kept painting, and painting, and painting, trying to make it look good, and it was 4AM and I was tired, and I'm used to oil paint so I forgot you can't just leave ugly globs of paint wherever and wipe them up later, and it just kept looking worse and worse.

I got jumpscared by this monstrosity this morning:

Don't paint while tired!!

I tried to salvage my awful paint job the next day, and kept adding more colors and paint into the design until I had ended up just repainting the original cover. I didn't get the lettering perfect or anything, but I got it to a presentable point at least. I really wanted to make some semblance of a re-interpretation of the original illustration, but oh well, the painted version was a necessary fix.

It's not perfect by any means, (honestly, it's not even good either), but I did what I could, and I'm ready to move onto the next project. Here's the final pictures!

Thank you for reading this far! Please leave a comment with any thoughts or suggestions, they really encourage me to keep going :D

[thechekhov]

Hi Chekhov! Really enjoying your white diamond au! I had a quick art question: How do you start comissions? I've been improving my drawing skills and thinking about drawing for others after having fun in artfight, but I don't know where to start? How much to charge, how to get paid, etc. Do you have any tips? Hope you're doing well! :)

Alright, since a few people have asked, I’ve decided to put together a few things about how to get started on commissions - what you need, what you should make, and how to keep things organized. 

This will get a little long, so I’ll divide it into 4 main sections:

1) Draw Art - Getting started

2) Get Commissioned - Making a commission sheet, Advertising

3) ??? - Communicating, Setting Limits, Running the Business

4) Profit - Pricing Yourself and Getting Paid

* Disclaimer: I’m an artist, so this How-To will be illustration-focused. I’m sure many of these tips can apply to ANY types of commissions, but I will be focusing on the type I know best. If you are proficient in other types of commissions for other types of art - music commissions, photography, etc - feel free to chime in and leave a comment or make your own tutorial!

1) Draw Art

I think this is probably the most obvious part, but it needs to be said:

Before you start making art for other people, you must first be comfortable making art in general.

I’m not saying your art has to be Disney-quality, or industry-level! Not at all. 

BUT! You must be comfortable creating what you sell. If you try to sell something you have little confidence in, you will stress yourself out and possibly end up losing time AND money.

Don’t shoot for the moon if you haven’t landed on it even once. Sell what you know you’re good at. Your commissions don’t HAVE to include full-body illustrations if you don’t know how to draw feet/solid stances. Limit yourself to what you can do.

Things you need to should probably have before starting commissions:

1. Access to art materials or a fully downloaded art program

DO NOT - Use a free tutorial version that will expire in a month and leave you without a way to draw! If you are having trouble finding a program, try free ones like MediBang Paint Pro. 

2. Free time to complete the amount of commissions you want to take.

DO NOT - Take on or offer commissions if you KNOW you’re going to be overwhelmed with school or personal life for the next 2+ months. Pace yourself, otherwise you’ll burn out, get stressed, and get discouraged.

3. A reliable way to communicate with your customers like a commissions-only email 

DO NOT - Use your friend/family/college email. It’s hard to keep track of things as it is, and creating new emails is easy and free. And keep it professional if you can! Not many people will reach out to dong-wiggles20434 to ask for a design. Ideally, your email should be close to your brand - however you want to brand yourself. Usernames are fine!)

DO NOT - Use Instagram/Twitter/Tumblr to collect commission info unless you are ready to do the organizing yourself. Some people make it work, but in my experience, if you use these SNS sites to communicate with friends and network... you’re going to be losing commission inquiries right and left and accidentally ignoring people. Email is much easier to organize and sort into folders.

4. A portfolio or at least 2-3 pieces of each type of art you’re planning to sell. 

DO NOT - Advertise commissions without having any examples of the art you plan to sell. People will find it difficult to trust you if you can’t even give them a vague idea of what sort of drawing they’ll be getting. 

Disclaimer: These are not hard ‘do not’s. If you have had a different experience, I respect that. I’m simplifying for the sake of streamlining this advice. 

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2) Get Commissioned

So - you have your art, you have your art program, and you’ve got all the time in the world. That means.... that’s right! It’s time to let the world know you’re taking commissions.

One of the most common ways artists signal to their audience that they can do commissions is by creating a commissions sheet. There are MANY ways to make this - and they range from simple and doodly ones to VERY complex designs. For example, here’s mine! 

There are many ways to organize a commission sheet. At its core, a commission sheet should display the types of art you WANT to be commissioned to make. Let’s go over a few ways they can be done!

#1.... Body Portion Dividers!

This sheet is most common with those who want to capitalize on drawing people and characters. If you want to draw lots of characters, this is a great way to offer several tiers of pricing based on how much of their character your customers want to see. 

#2... Complexity Scale

If you’re open to drawing many things but want to base your pricing off of how complex something is, you can split your tiers into done-ness. This type of commission is popular with those that draw characters AND animals, furries, etc.

#3....  Style and Type

If you’re more on the design side of things, or if you have various niche art styles that you can’t quite lump together, display a variety of your skills alongside each other! It helps if all the ones you have can be organized under a common customer - like those looking to advance their own business and get logos, websites, or mascots made for them!

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3) ???

You got your first commission... what happens now???

Well, ideally you have the time, tools and motivation to make things happen! Now all you have to do is... sit down and... draw.......

I’m going to say something that may be a little controversial: 

Commissions aren’t fun. 

No, no, hear me out: I have fun doing commissions! I genuinely enjoy drawing characters and coming up with designs. But even with all that said, commissions are, first and foremost: WORK

I’m not saying this to discourage you, I’m saying this to keep things realistic. When I first began commissions, I thought it would be just like any other type of drawing. I would sit down, imagine a thing, draw it... it would be fun! 

But then I realized that I couldn’t just draw what I wanted - another person had an idea in mind and had asked me to do it. I stressed over getting the design correct from descriptions. I stressed over not having the right reference for the pose the commissioner wanted. I stressed over not being able to draw the leg right in the way I had promised I would do. I stressed about billing. I stressed about digital money transfers. It was difficult, and time-consuming, and I did not enjoy it. At all. 

And a part of that is definitely on the commissioner - we, as artists, NEED to demand proper references or descriptions. We, as artists, NEED to limit the amount of changes we’re going to make at the flick of a finger. We NEED to demand clear instructions and set boundaries. That’s also super important. 

But also - don’t be discouraged if you find yourself exhausted drawing your first commission. MANY artists go through this. Adjust your rules, fix up your limits, practice putting your foot down on finicky commissioners who expect you to read their mind! It does get easier, but you have to communicate and put in the effort and act as your own manager AND your own customer service AND your own accountant. That’s what you’re looking at. 

Good limits and boundaries to set: 

Limit the amount of changes a person can ask to make. “I want blue hair.” Next email: “No wait, yeah, make it red.” Next email: “Actually I changed my mind, can I get the blue but like, lighter?” Next email: “No, not that light.” ... At some point, we have to stop. I personally allow 2-3 changes on the final stages of a commission before I start refusing or start asking for extra money.

Demand clear instructions and/or references. If something isn’t described, you have to take artistic liberty and design it, but that’s difficult! And if the customer is not happy with it but can’t tell you more? That’s not your problem - the burden of reference is on THEM. You cannot read their mind, and that’s not your fault.

Get at least half the payment up front! This is a good balance between the ‘pay before art’ and the ‘pay after art’ conundrum that will limit the amount of woes between artist and customer. (I’ll touch upon this a little more in the Profit section.)

Organization:

Where possible, create good habits! Tag your emails and organize your folders. I have a tag on my emails for active and finished commissions. I also keep my emails on Unread until I have time to sit down and properly look at/reply to them.

My Commissions in the folder are also organized chronologically and I mark down which ones are paid and which ones are not.

(I understand not everyone can do this, but if you want to give it a try, it does make things easier in the long run. Again, this advice is just what I have found personally helps.)

One last thing - I do not want to shame ANYONE for taking their time with commissions! Commissions are complex, and they take time and work. You can draw in 8 hours, but some things take research, materials, etc. Some illustrations realistically take up to half a year, or, depending on what’s involved, several years!!

THAT BEING SAID - it’s good manners to be upfront with your customers about how long you expect the commission to take. If you think you’re busy, just say that! Explain that you have a lot going on, and you will probably take (insert time period here).

And if your commissioners are worried, work out a system to keep them updated! I send my commissioners updates when I finish the lineart/flat colors/etc and I try to be clear about how long everything will take. I try to estimate with a +3-5 days buffer to give myself extra time... and recently I’ve been using it. Always say a bigger number than you think you’ll need. 

If someone wants a rushed commission... make them pay more. If ANYONE wants a commission done ‘by the end of the week’ - that’s an automatic rush-job for me because I’m juggling an irl job and several commissions at once. I WILL charge a rush fee and I won’t feel bad about it. 

If someone wants a commission within 24 hours...... Well, they better be paying you 3x your normal amount, or more. And remember - you CAN refuse! It’s perfectly reasonable to say ‘No, sorry, that sort of turnaround time is not realistic for me.’

Food For Thought - Invoicing

Many artists I’ve commissioned in the past have not used Invoicing, but I’ve recently begun to fill out invoices and file them in my Commissions folder just to keep track of things. It’s not necessary until you start getting into the Small Business side of Freelancing, but it’s not a bad idea to get into the habit early in case you might need to do it later for tax purposes. 

Here’s what my Invoice looks like, for example. 

I’ve optimized it to help me remember who, what, and how much is involved! It also contains important info for my customers like where to send the money.

Which brings us to...

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4) Profit

One of the hardest things for artists is pricing themselves. I’m not going to tell you which way is BEST - there is no BEST way, only the best way for YOU. 

One of the options available to you is pricing by the hour. It includes averaging out how long it takes you to draw a specific type of art (whatever you’re offering as a commission) and multiplying that by an hourly wage you’ve decided on.

When you do this, I stress - do NOT price yourself below minimum wage if you can help it. When you first start out, aim for the $15/hour mark and adjust accordingly. 

Other ways to price your art:

- Per complexity: Portraits vs full body should be scaled based on how difficult you find one vs. the other. You can also easily decide on a price for a sketch and double it for lineart, triple it for full color, etc.

- Per type: Look up for industry prices for website design and logo design. They may surprise you! You don’t have to charge that much, but it helps to keep things in perspective. 

It’s okay to change your prices! Keep your commission sheet image handy so you can update the amounts as you grow. :)

Payment up front or after completion?

Some artist take full payment up front. Some only demand payment after they’ve finished and sent out the piece. I personally think these are both risky for everyone involved. 

I recommend doing at least HALF of the payment BEFORE you start the commission. Calculate your full price and ask for half before you start working on it in earnest, to make sure the person can actually pay you. Then, when they receive the full piece and are satisfied, they can complete the payment. 

I personally work in this structure:

> Someone emails me with their idea/reference

> I send back a rough draft sketch that shows the idea/pose (only takes me 10-20 minutes so not a huge loss if they ghost) and quote them a price

> They can pay the full thing upfront OR pay half

> I finish the commission and send updates when I do the lineart/colors to double check anything so they have multiple chances to spot any errors

> If the person paid only half on completion, I send them a low-res version of the finished thing, they finish up their payment and THEN I send them the full-res version plus any other filetypes/CYMK proofs, etc. 

Many of the people who commission me pay me up front even though I offer they pay half - and I’m really flattered that they trust me that much! Because of that, I feel encouraged to update them frequently and ask for their input as I work, so they have the peace of mind knowing I’m actually doing their commission. 

Great, but how do I get PAID????

There are NUMEROUS ways - these days money is relatively easy to transfer over digital means, and you have a few options. 

Paypal is perhaps one of the oldest digital wallets and is geared towards businesses. By setting up a PayPal and connecting it to your debit card of bank account, you can tunnel a pathway from your online business directly into your hands in a matter of days. 

Paypal also offers Invoicing - you make an invoice, price it and send it to the person’s email and they can pay whatever way they need! (It also allows partial payments.)

Pros: transfers from PayPal to bank account are free, and take a couple of business days. It also has no upper limit to the amount of money you can move in/out each month. It can force refunds due to the nature of its business-oriented payment system.

Cons: Because it’s used by businesses for larger transactions, PayPal may demand a more rigorous proof of your identity. It may also take longer to set up and be harder to get used to. I’ve also heard that they can be a hassle when it comes to closing your account. 

Venmo is another type of digital wallet that acts much like paypal, except for a few key differences - it is NOT made for businesses (so depending on whether you’re officially registered as a freelancer, you may not be able to use it). I personally don’t use venmo, so I cannot speak to its usefulness, but I know a few people that use it for casual transactions. It’s easy and quick! :) 

Keep in mind that you cannot force a refund over venmo! The transactions are final.

There’s also CashApp, GooglePay (which could load gift cards but also allows peer-to-peer transactions) and I’ve heard good things about Due, though I’ve never personally used it.

Other ways to pay: I’ve had people pay me over Patreon by upping their pledge, and I’ve had people pay me over Ko-Fi by donating a specific amount. 

Many people even use Etsy - the website specialized for independent small businesses selling art - by listing their commission sheet and offering up several ‘slots’ of commissions, which allows you to track taxes AND allows your clients to pay using whatever they feel comfortable with.

If you’re in Canada, you can even pay by emailing money directly from bank account to bank account - check whether your country offers this type of service! There’s no shortage of ways to move money in the digital world.

Just like everything else, there’s no singular ‘Best’ way. It just depends on what works for you.

I think that just about wraps it up! I can’t quite think of what else to put here - but I’m sure other artists will chime in with their own advice. :) I’m very sorry this became so long but I hope it was helpful! 

Obligatory Disclaimer: I’m not qualified to give legal or accounting counsel. Please double-check the laws in your own country/state in regards to taxation of freelancing work and do your own research. If you are underage, DEFINITELY get an adult’s permission before you start doing commissions, and have the adult help you through the process.   

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

OTHER POSTS YOU MAY FIND USEFUL:

An Extended Post on Pricing Yourself for Commissions

Dealing with Imposter Syndrome/Feeling ‘Not Good Enough’

Growing Your Audience

Advice for Starting Digital Art

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 4 (6-16): Reverse batfamily | Hugs | Soulmate

Warnings: Canon typical violence, major injuries, background character death, ✨angst✨

Note: this one ran away from me. It got a mind of its own. If I had more time, this would be so much longer. I've always wanted to write a reverse batfam story with Damian's perspective. Please enjoy.

---

Damian has only spent a month living with his blood father, and he's felt nothing but miserable this entire time. Somehow, life has managed to become even more stressful and exhausting compared to living within the League of Assassins. He... understands why his mother felt he'd be safer here for the time being, but at least, back in Nanda Parbat he knew what he was doing and what the rules were.

He's not sure where he stands with his father. It's obvious that his father doesn't know where he stands with Damian either. Damian, his entire life, had grown up with the knowledge of Bruce Wayne being his father. Batman. Caped Crusader of Gotham. Hero. Bringer of Justice. His mother's dearest, most precious love after Damian himself. She spoke often of him. Highly. Only when alone and no one else to hear them. His father isn't exactly on high standings with his grandfather nor other high ranking members of the League.

Yet, his father knew nothing of him until the day they met. His mother brought him to the streets of Gotham, lured Batman to their location, and introduced them there. His father seemed visibly shocked under that cowl at the information of having a son, yet he didn't question it.

Damian didn't know what to expect after his mother left him for his own safety. He didn't know all too much about culture outside of the League. He was, of course, taught the basics to blend in with American society—as well as other countries—if the need so came, but other than that... He didn't know what to do with himself when he first stepped in the manor to find only one servant and a new home empty of anything to fill his time. The cave where his father operates was locked to him from the get-go.

His father doesn't seem to trust him. He explained the situation to the servant, and then sent Damian off with the servant to find a room with the warning that if Damian "did anything", he'd regret it.

Damian's hardly seen his father since. When he's not working as a CEO, he's out as Batman, and Damian sits in the manor all day and night running out of ways to keep himself entertained.

Sometimes he sees his father at supper, but he doesn't ever start any conversation. Damian doesn't start any either, thinking it's purposeful. He doesn't ask about Damian's stay, or if he's comfortable here, or anything. He doesn't update Damian on any new information about his mother and the league. The only words he speaks to Damian are gruff good nights.

Miserable. It's miserable. He doesn't understand why his mother is so in love with such a miserable man for company.

He doesn't speak up on it, however. If his father is anything like his teachers or his grandfather, questioning him or speaking out of turn will just get him in trouble. He'd like to keep his stay at a tolerable level of misery, thank you very much.

So he doesn't say anything to his father, even though he's itching to go out with him at night to... to do whatever he does. He's seen the television, Superman has a kid fighting with him in Metropolis. Why can't Damian do the same with his father as well? He can wear a mask and change his name. He can easily defend himself, even against this country's love for guns.

He still doesn't say anything, and he spends the days miserable.

-o-o-o-o-

It's the butler, Alfred as he has insisted many times during his stay (Damian humors him by calling him by his first name, being as he's the only one to speak to Damian in this drab house), who suggests school a few months after coming here.

"School," his father says blankly, looking at Alfred like he's lost his mind.

"He's a young, growing boy," Alfred says. "It's not good for the lad to be inside all day like this."

Damian sits at the dining table, stiff like he's stepped on a landmine and is now waiting for it to explode. However, he can't help but look up at his father through his lowered eyebrows to meet his sharp gaze. School... doesn't sound like something that would be any fun, but... but anything to get out of this manor sounds almost heavenly.

His hopes fall when his father shakes his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

And something inside Damian snaps just a little. "Dangerous for who?" He demands, slamming his hands on the table. "For me? Or for the other children?"

His father looks stunned, and Damian's stomach drops as Alfred's eyes widen as well.

He's running out of the dining room before anything else can be said.

He's messed up. He's definitely, royally, messed up.

-o-o-o-o-

Punishment for yelling at his father doesn't come like he expects it to. A week goes by, and there's not a single word of his outburst.

It sets him on edge. It fries his nerves. It makes him jumpy and paranoid and frightened at every shadow.

So much so that he finally decides, one day, to pull the sword hanging above the library entrance off the wall and practice with it. It's heavier than what he's used to back in Nanda Parbat. British history is in the shape of the blade, but he still wields it and practices rusty moves on it until he's sweating in the middle of the library. Usually training makes him feel better, but the more time that passes, the more frustrated he gets.

He gets so frustrated that he imagines enemies surrounding him. He imagines the warmth of blood splattering against his skin as he swings. The taste as it touches his tongue. Their screams of death. He gets so deep in this trance that he doesn't notice he's broken something until the sound of crashing glass reaches his ears; he's swung right through a glass display case, the unprotected remains of a signed classic novel resting inside.

His heart jumps when the door opens to see what the commotion is about, and he drops the sword like it's hot when Alfred is the one to poke his head through.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Alfred gives him a long look, and then he sighs. "Come fetch the broom with me, and we can clean this up."

"Will you tell father?" Damian asks slowly. He can tell it's a loaded question when Alfred pauses and purses his lips.

"Not this time," he says finally, after a few heartbeats. "But I do think it's time I speak with him about some other things. Come along, the quicker we clean this up, the quicker I can get you a cup of tea to stop you from looking like a frightened racoon."

-o-o-o-o-

A few days pass, and his father invites him to follow after dinner. Out of everything Damian expects to come from this, being led into the batcave through a grandfather clock in the study wasn't one of them.

"You can train here," his father said, showing him a massive room in the cave filled to the brim with practice tools of all kinds. Dulled swords, throwing stars, bo-staffs, and straw dummies to name a few. There's locked cases on the far side of the training room, of which Damian suspects are full of much more sharp, dangerous, and fun tools.

No matter. He's already feeling his blood shake with excitement at the thought of finally getting some proper practices again.

"You can come down here only when myself or Alfred are here to supervise you," his father explains. "Nothing here leaves this room, and if anything breaks you tell us immediately."

"Can I start now?" Damian asks, barely managing to hold himself back from running towards the closest, one-handed blade.

His father, surprisingly, nods. "I'm going out, and Alfred will be down to help me with the computer. He will be in charge."

Damian can't stop himself from smiling. Finally there's something to do in this house. Feeling hopeful, he decides to ask one more question.

"Can I go with you? One day?"

Silence is his answer for a few heartbeats, making Damian suddenly fearful that he shouldn't have asked that. Then, his father sighs.

"We will see."

-o-o-o-o-

A few more days pass before they do see. He suspects Alfred must have had another conversation with his father, because he approaches him one night and offers to spar.

It's done in full concentration, not a single word exchanged between the two. Both are too busy studying the other's fighting patterns to say anything.

It's now that Damian realizes what his mother meant whenever she spoke about his father's advanced martial arts. It's brutal and expertly executed. It's only a matter of time before he's pinned. He's disappointed in himself, but not surprised to end up losing.

But not all is lost. He can tell his father is impressed when he releases his pin and tosses Damian a rag to wipe off his sweat.

"We need to talk to Alfred about getting you a suit."

-o-o-o-o-

The suit Alfred makes him is made of the strongest, thinnest material Damian had ever seen. It cannot only be Kevlar, because it would be heavier than this. It must have been created by his father himself, or one of his associates.

Whatever the case, he's in awe by it. Alfred is a master of every craft, it seems. He's managed to create the suit to Damian's submitted designs to the T, only making subtle changes here and there where sketches don't match up with reality.

It's mostly black, because according to his father white isn't a good color to go with in Gotham. It's understandable, as much as Damian dislikes it. He's always liked wearing whites and tans for his outfits, accenting here and there with greens and blues to bring out his eyes. Black is such a boring and dull color, but this, he supposes, he will have to deal with.

And it's not all black, at the least. Just the bits around his shoulders, cape, hood, sides, and legs. On his chest, however, is a splash of dark maroon, as well his boots and gloves. His belt is yellow, like his father's, and filled only with smoke pellets, a grappling gun, and a hanging pair of sticks that triple as escrima, a bo-staff, and nun-chucks. Not his preferred weapon, but his father doesn't seem to be very trustful with him and sharp ones yet.

He goes out into the city, out of the manor, for the first time in what feels like forever. His father keeps a sharp eye on him, reminding him every two seconds to not kill anyone, but Damian doesn't mind too much.

He's just happy to be out, and to finally get glimpses of what his father is truly like outside of the stories of his mother and the silent dinners.

He's ruthless, but not heartless. Strong, but not abusive. He prioritizes justice, above all else, and teaches Damian that even the criminals deserve it. The victims get saved, and his father leaves the criminals to be picked up by the cops to be brought to rehabilitation or wherever else they must go.

Damian's careful to remember these teachings, even though he doesn't understand them. He's been raised to think the only thing bad people deserved was punishment, but after taking down a bank robbery, his father researches the names of the robbers and finds that the bank keeper was blackmailing them to give him money on top of the loans they already had with the bank.

The bank keeper was trying to pay off the gangs to protect the bank from other gangs.

So on and so forth.

Gotham seems to be a big cycle of abuse, with no one willing to end it.

Well, no one besides his father.

It doesn't make sense to Damian why his father would try so hard to stop it, but he can at least respect it.

For now.

-o-o-o-o-

Everything goes almost fine until it doesn't.

For the first time in almost half a year, Damian finds himself separated from his father and Alfred. There's a new big bad in Gotham, a man with half of his face burned off by acid. Two-Face, he calls himself. Harvey Dent, his father informed before he left Damian behind to fight him alone.

"This is personal," he said.

And Damian didn't listen. He wanted to see what a real fight was like in Gotham. These petty bank robberies and classic muggings were getting boring and repetitive. He didn't mean to get so close.

His father was in a standoff with Two-Face, and on a stroke of bad luck one of the goons spotted him watching.

"It's Red Bird!" Shouted the goon. Red Bird is the name Gotham had started to call him by in the papers.

A group of the goons charged after him, the rest kept by Two-Face and his father, sneering as they separated his father from helping with their guns and a baby hostage.

And maybe it was seeing the child in Two-Face's arms that made him see red. Maybe it was the disappointment in himself for being spotted. Maybe it was simply all the pent up frustration that's been building without his knowledge since he's gotten here.

Whatever the case, he fought back a little harder than he meant to. What he was supposed to. He brought most of the goons down to the ground, clutching broken bones and bloodied gashes. His old training kicks in, and he goes to hit one of his opponents in a specific place that would kill them.

"RED BIRD!" His father shouts angrily over the commotion.

And Damian stumbles, stopping in his kill-path. His father sounds disappointed and upset and- and Damian almost disobeyed his orders and his father saw it immediately.

Then, before he can be fearful or horrified or confused, his own skull is hit hard enough that the world fades to black.

He wakes up with his arms tied behind his back and his entire person disarmed. His father stands at a makeshift pair of gallows, another man besides him. Both are hooded.

Two-Face flips his coin and asks Damian heads or tails. He says tails, and saves his father, but the other man hangs.

Then, Two-Face beats Damian with a bat, to the point he can't see straight, and the pain drags him back into unconsciousness. The last thought he has is that he's failed. He's disappointed his father, and he must have disappointed his mother as well if she hasn't come back for him yet.

He's failed.

-o-o-o-o-

He wakes in the batcave's med-bay, his entire body numb. He can only lay there with a tube running up his nose and needles in his arm, listening to the machine besides him voice his heartbeat. Vacantly, he can hear arguing voices outside his door, one of a woman he doesn't recognize and the other of his father.

He closes his eyes when the arguing gets too loud, but opens them sometime later when it stops and someone enters the room.

His father stands in the doorway, his face looking more raw and vulnerable than Damian's ever seen it.

"I thought I lost you," is all he says before he runs to the cot and grabs Damian's hand. The one not in a sling, he realizes. He's so numb he didn't even notice he had so many bandages and casts on him.

Not that he focuses on that for long. In fact, all he can focus on is that his father is clutching his hand like a lifeline and whispering over and over how sorry he is.

"I should have been better," his father rambles. "You're not like Jon, you don't have powers. I'm so stupid for letting you out there- I almost got you killed- your mother is going to murder me-"

Damian doesn't even know what to say. He's so flabbergasted by the actions of his father, that he just lays there as his father continues.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for this. I'm not even in my thirties, and I'm a dad. I tried my best to keep you safe, make sure you didn't get yourself into danger- and I fucked it all up. I don't know what I'm doing, Dami. I don't know- I'm sorry-"

And this continues for a little while longer until the door opens again, revealing Alfred and the woman who must have been yelling at his father before. She has gray hair, curled up like a loose afro around her head, revealing her old age. Behind her glasses, her eyes are sad. Together, Alfred and the woman approach the bed, and the woman lays her hand on his father's shoulder.

"We need to check his bandages," she says.

His father nods, wiping quickly under his eyes before he stands up. She gives Alfred a look before she leads Bruce out.

It's only Alfred and Damian for a moment, and Damian releases a breath.

"He's not going to let me out again."

Silence.

Then Alfred comes to his side and looks at the bandages. "I will talk with him. First, let's get you healed up and properly introduce you to Miss Thompkins."

-o-o-o-o-

Red Bird does go out again, once he's healed up. Alfred's talks with his father do wonders, it seems, as life at the manor has gone back to lonely and miserable—what with his father avoiding him at every chance. But he goes out again, swinging into the night with his father silently beside him having just finished retelling him every rule he must follow.

Damian intends to follow them. He doesn't want to lose this. He's come so close to losing this.

He hopes... That maybe... If he follows the rules... Things will start getting better again.

They fight crime like normal, going their normal routes and working silently by each other. By the time it's time to go home, Damian's feeling more alive than he has since Two-Face beat him with the bat.

Before they can return to the manor, however, a familiar signal is lit in the sky by the police department. His father stills and Damian watches him carefully. His father has been careful to keep him out of the business that comes with that signal, even before Two-Face.

His father sighs, then gives Damian a hard look through his cowl.

"Behave," is all he says before they're on their way to the police station.

There's a man on the roof. Commissioner Jim Gordon. He gives his father a greeting, then pauses when Damian steps out besides him.

"Decided to finally introduce us?" He asks with a raised eyebrow. "Just when I thought Red Bird was off the streets for good."

Damian bristles, but his father sighs. "What do you need, Commissioner?"

"Apparently a college teacher went insane and poisoned his students with a gas that made them see their deepest fears. Professor Jonathan Crane. It sounds like something you'd handle quicker, and I can get you the files we have on him after you explain to me why you're still letting a child run around in tights. Especially after you told me he was quote un-quote, 'alive but out of commission'."

"I don't see why it's your business," Damian hisses before he can stop himself.

"Red Bird," Batman scolds, and Damian falls quiet.

His father looks at the Commissioner with a hard look. "He's my responsibility, and I will look after him."

"There were rumors he died, Batman," Gordon argues back. "Two-Face bragged about it all the way to Arkham. He had blood on his face."

His father stiffens his jaw, then says through gritted teeth. "I will never allow something like that to happen ever again. If you want my word, I will give it in saying if anyone like Two-Face tries to hurt him like that again, I will make sure they regret the thought before it can happen. Red Bird will continue to be with me where I can watch him, and you will respect that. Trust me, it's safer for all of us this way."

He looks down at Damian, then almost smiles.

"He will sneak out himself anyways, eventually. Or I won't hear the end of it from a mutual acquaintance."

Damian finds himself smiling back. It seems getting on the good side of Alfred was a good decision on his part. And he's right in the former statement as well. Damian is sure he'd eventually get bored enough of being left behind and go out to prove himself without permission. Red Bird... It's too good to give up. He can't lose it.

It's like a staring contest between Gordon and his father for what feels like an entire minute, but eventually Gordon gives up with a sigh.

"Don't know how you do it. The wife's starting to talk about having a kid... I can't imagine a little one of mine running around doing the things I do, let alone what you do."

He brings a cigarette to his mouth, then pulls out a file with his free hand. "Take the case."

Batman steps up to do as was told, but before Gordon let's go, he gives his father a hard look.

"You better keep your word," he growls, "because if anything happens again to that kid, I'm holding you responsible and I'll bring you in for child endangerment myself."

Batman nods. "I'm counting on it."

-o-o-o-o-

Eventually, the topic of school comes up again.

Which of course brings up the topic that no one actually knows about Bruce Wayne's son. Damian's been kept a secret this entire time, unknown to the public.

"We'll tell them that your mother and I met at the end of highschool, and we have kept you a secret ever since. Due to your mother's weakening health, we decided it would be best for your future to have your custody turned over to me and the mother wishes to remain private. Then, we can-"

"Wait," Damian interrupts. "You're going to let me go to school?"

His father pauses in his verbal plans, then nods.

And suddenly, Damians jumping from his chair with joy, wrapping his arms around his father's neck without thinking about it. However, the second he realizes his action, he attempts to scramble away with horror. He's never hugged his father before. But things have been so good, civil even, to the point where they can be in the same room and have conversations about the weather or the recent sports game or even about a new cartoon Damian found on TV.

But they never hugged.

Afraid he's pressed boundaries, he pushes away, but he doesn't go far before a hand wraps around his shoulder. Damians left halfway on his father's lap where he sits, looking at him with anxiety churning in his stomach and an unreadable expression on his father's face.

Then, gently, Damian's pulled back in so now arms are wrapping around his back. His father's hugs are soft and warm, Damians learns. The opposite of how he fights. Yet he feels so safe and protected that he doesn't resist the action.

"This is really happening," his father says in a whisper. "I have a son. I'm really a dad now. I... I promise I will be better for you. From now on. I'm sorry for how I treated you... In the beginning. I was scared. It's no excuse, but I promise you, I will be better."

And he is. They get ice cream after and then watch a movie before going out as Batman and Red Bird.

Time passes so Damian starts school and makes friends. He meets Clark Kent and his son, Jon, and makes a best friend. He grows older, and happier, to the point he no longer misses the League of Assassins. To the point when his mother does finally return to see him, saying the danger has passed...

Damian tells her he wishes to stay with his father. She smiles, and hugs him, and says that she's proud of him. She promises to visit him as often as she can after they share a good cry.

She leaves, and visits, and time moves on a little more.

Until one day, years later, they notice a kid with a camera following them around and taking pictures. Then, the same kid admits to knowing about their civilian identities when confronted.

His father searches the kid up when they get back to the manor, and after some digging it's revealed his name is Tim Drake and his parents are neglectful and strict.

Damian sees the same look in his father's eyes as when he first told the public he had a son named Damian Wayne, and he gets the feeling the manor is about to get a little more crowded.

This, he thinks, is about to get interesting. It's been awhile since life threw a curve ball. He just didn't expect this one to come in the form of a little brother.

And life goes on.

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)

Thanks in advance and I hope your well.

Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.

****************

Soldier:

Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.

However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.

But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.

Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.

In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.

“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”

Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.

That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.

When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.

When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.

It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.

He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.

Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.

Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.

One day, he didn’t come back at all.

Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.

Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.

He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.

If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.

He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.

It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.

His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.

The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.

Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.

And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.

He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.

This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.

But the biggest change was his hair.

He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”

Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.

The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.

“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”

After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.

He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.

Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.

This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”

Engineer:

Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.

He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.

His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.

However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.

He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.

Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.

Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.

By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.

No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.

One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.

Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.

The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.

They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.

Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.

They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.

Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.

As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.

With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.

But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.

This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.

Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.

But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.

He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.

His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.

Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.

He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.

It just wasn’t worth it.

On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.

He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.

Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.

“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Hm?”

“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”

Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.

It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.

Now he had the husband’s attention.

“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”

Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.

“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”

The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”

“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.

“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”

Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.

He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.

There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:

“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”

[uponrightful]

Hi! I’ve just finished Welcome Company-it was so good, your writing is amazing! I have a question about one of the last scenes if that’s OK? Partly about Pups point of view, because a lot of what happened to her post Order 66 is clearly in her mind, but seems to read differently emotionally later if that makes sense? I’d also like to know why you decided to include the scene of Pup having to fight one last time. -RebelMedic99

“Wolffe! Please!” She sobbed through the pain and fear, whimpering when the kid pulled her own arm around her throat, locking in a chokehold she was unable to break from. He laughed dryly in her ear, yanking on her broken wrist to elicit another scream.

“He’s not coming back you little slut.” He fell into another fit of laughter, “And even if he did you’ll be so used he won’t even want to look at you.” His evil words cut right through her. She was already broken, and yet another piece was about to be taken, and smashed on the floor right in front of her. She felt the pain of his remarks, feeling just as useless as he’d appraised.

She wanted to fight anyways.

The pain in her wrist didn’t subside, but it wasn’t going to stop until she got his filthy hands off her. And without that blaster, she really didn’t have a chance at getting off the ship, or keeping the ship safe until Wolffe got back. She struggled to keep her breath even, fighting to pull her broken wrist out of his grasp so she could get free.

Think fast…

Get him off guard…

“You really want me?” She choked out, wincing from the abrasive words cutting at her tongue. If he was that young, there was a chance he’d fall for it and drop the -hopefully- act long enough for her to grab the upper hand.

“You’re a fucking slut! Already turning towards the closest man you can get in your pants!” He snarled, yanking her wrist again. The girl held back her cry, again repeating the question for him, praying it would make a bigger impact this time.

“I’ll behave. I promise.” She faked convincingly enough through her tears. The kid’s grip faltered just for a second before retaining its unflinching need to inflict pain again. Yet, by miracle, he released her wrist and stepped back with the blaster dropped down at his side. Miraculously, his anger suddenly disappeared, and a look of disbelief came over him.

“Pick me.” He ordered harshly, as she turned to face him.

Everything moved so quickly.

Commentary Track for Welcome Company

Copy 500 words -or more- of any of my fics and I’ll give my thoughts/rambles on what was going through my head -or the character’s- when I wrote it!

*send one in here*

This one is challenging, but we'll see if I can explain it without sounding like a complete dumbass... 😅

***

We'll start with addressing her emotional shift towards Order 66 first, and that will help set up the reasoning why she had this "last stand" at the end. (This won't be from her POV, it'll make things a little simpler.)

Pup's true knowledge of what Order 66 is comes in small bits and pieces after she flees Coruscant. It's obvious right away that something changed, but it's not for a really long time that she finds out that there might be something "unwilling" about the whole situation. In this time frame -of a couple years- she's actually left to her own devices and thought-process to make sense of it all. And a couple of years can really take a toll on someone's perception of what is really going on.

There is talk of manipulation, and how 'robotic' the clones are. All of it culminating in a bunch of half-assed theories as to why they suddenly have this unbending will for the Empire when they fought for the Republic for so long. (The bar fight Wolffe was in, is where I tried to explore this a little bit with the Cerean.) But Pup only hears rumors, and those weak excuses aren't enough to dissuade her fear of seeing troopers again. Because ultimatley, there are hundreds of them who'd been to her home, and in her mind, it's possible that they could come after her and punish her for that. It's not a realistic fear, but if you combine it with her last experience with a clone, it's one that would easily create a serious emotional trigger.

I meant for it to be a tad bit confusing when reading her emotions. Pup wants to love the clones -and she still does- but seeing one of them in real life would be fucking terrifying. Their sweet memories are always there, and she does her best to only think of those. However it's easy to be reminded of why she can't still see them, when she's living on a backwater planet to try and reassure herself that she'll never have to risk seeing a clone again. Because all of the love that they'd given her -in her mind- is completely gone the second she's shot by one.

And her entire being is damaged assuming that Wolffe is no different than the rest of them. Pup knows all the clones are acting this way, and Wolffe is really no exception. So even though she loves him dearly it's really scary when she sees him for the first time after all these years. Is he safe? Is there something still wrong with him? Does he want to take her with him, back to the Empire? These are all questions she has, because she's never seen a clone after Order 66 without a functioning chip.

The reason her change of heart is so sudden, is because Pup didn't let go of the good memories she had of her troopers. That integral part of her character is to forgive and be patient -even if she's been damaged by something or someone. Yes, she keeps it bottled up. But that was because she couldn't get rid of her base traits. You can't wholly change your personality very easily, and Pup never really wanted to in the first place. She was just forced to create this harder persona so she could survive. Then after Wolffe comes back, and he's painstakingly careful in trying to prove that he's not under influence any longer, it makes that desire to care for him -like she's always had- come back much smoother.

(It's a continuity error that I never gave a proper scene dedication to it; But I did have a draft that included an Order 66 conversation with Rex and Pup during that scene in Chapter 14.)

I chose not to include it because I wanted someone to focus on Pup's traumas faced during the transition period of planet-hopping. It might sound cruel of me to not include his struggles, but they've been covered so many times in other fics, that I gave the assumption my "Initial Implementation" scene and "Chip Removal Scene" would be emotionally sympathetic and exploratory enough of how Wolffe felt during and after, without needing to express it to you directly. Not to mention, after Pup and Wolffe are reunited, she's not stupid enough to not infer that it was against his will. She quite frequently notes throughout that his guilty looks and hesitancy to make physical contact with her are very noticeable and telling of how he feels about his time with the Empire.

All of this said, now her fight scene:

Right before they leave the cabin, she's feeling a little loss of home. But really, Pup never had too much of an attachment to her house on Takodana in the first place. What's really getting her emotional at this point is the realization that she finally has Wolffe back. It's security she's wanted this whole time, and although the boys aren't letting her help with the bounty, she's willing to do whatever they want because she understands that they've got the experience here. Plus, she's really not physically able to do a whole lot after her slight hypothermia exposure.

I wanted her weak for this: Emotionally, physically, mentally. It had to be that way for a reason.

Until this point, Pup hasn't ever shown a real motivation to fight for anything, other than making the trip to the outpost to save her friend. BUT. That's risking herself to save someone else. Pup has never done anything for her own benefit, without it being equally helpful for someone else. Even when she got Wolf, it wasn't just for herself. Iahcen was getting something out of it as well.

I know it's cliche, but her last moments alone on that ship waiting was where her character development needed to reach and end. Because I made the overarching plot of fighting for love, but I needed that same lesson to be learned in-story, as well to round it out. It had to be Pup, because she's been running this whole time. Wolffe can't learn it, because he's been fighting the entire time.

The kid is a symbol of kindness not being returned. This is key, because Pup has always been nice -even when she didn't need to be. And he attacks her for that. He comes in as the tool to show her that being kind doesn't always work; And sometimes you have to stand against something, instead of running or letting someone run over her. I also made certain to have the kid attack Wolffe's character. This was essential, because Pup has nothing else she wants to fight for. Wolffe has always been her one essential thing, and he was what made her realize that being a little selfish and desiring something isn't a bad thing. This kid is a product of her sympathetic nature, and he's willingly insulting and threatening her chance at having the one thing Pup has always wanted.

Pup needed fight or flight, and the only time her 'fight mode' kicks in, is when she realizes there's something she wants. On Coruscant, she had nothing, so she ran. Pup wanted to live for Wolffe, in the hopes that he might still be alive, and that was the first time her fight response kicked in. Then her friend was in danger of dying, that was the second time she chose to fight.

Her love and security in Wolffe was being threatened, and that was Pup's final character development, and why she needed this fight scene without Wolffe -or anyone else's assistance- in the matter.

***

I hope this wasn't garbage 😅 and I explained it decently... If not, please let me know. I'll do anything I can to answer your questions!

Much Love, Rightful 🤍

[lumilasi]

I saw this in my feed and since I was pretty bored and FINALLY free from the said boredom, figured I could do this one. I generally enjoy question based tags, especially if they relate to art/writing/fandom/are some general things about favorite colors, music, foods, things about your home country etc.

(basically, you can tag me in stuff similar to listed above things and I’ll probably do them if I see them/have time lmao)

Fic Writer Questions!

How many works do you have on AO3? 

44 total. I used to have more but I’ve deleted an old Bleach one I knew I’d never continue to write, and two bnha ones for the same reason (those two were also at the very beginning stages so nobody missed a lot anyway)

What's your total AO3 wordcount? 

4 269 068......wow. It’s even MORE than I even imagined. Over 4 million words. 

....Someone take my writing tools away from me lmao

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

 Three. I started with MCU, moved on to Bleach and now I’ve done most ofr BNHA

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

Crossroads - 3069 

Family Secrets - 3015 

Reanimate - 1534 

The neighbor - 809 

Espada and Fraccion - 782

.....Admittedly this list surprised me. Not the first three but the last two. The fifth is an one shot for Bleach that I wrote AGES ago. I also for some reason expected this list to match the bookmark list more lmao

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always try to respond to every comment I get, but often times when it’s just one word or a heart emoji I don’t really know what to say, so I might not reply to those. I do appreciate every comment I get, and read every single one, even if I don’t respond

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? 

I don’t do angst endings typically, but Family Secrets is probs the most obvious choice, given what happens at the end. 

- and its not even the real end, because I couldn’t help myself and made two more stories for the AU that was like “hey! this character I made you all love so much actually DIDN’T die, he just had unfinished business back home” lmao

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've ever written? 

Rarely, typically they’re between my own fics (the story that crosses the paths of Crossroads and Family Secrets AU’s, literally titled Crossover, creative name I know OTL I was out of ideas) 

Or between me and other people’s fics. Currently there’s two, both with Crossroads: one with Theteapotofdoom’s fic Something Good, and another with leontheneon’s fic Here with you. Both stories are basically a two part series that is non canon to actual Crossroads. The first story is finished, second one has two chapters left...that...I uh...struggle to write it seems OTL

(not tagging either person into this because Tea is very busy IRL right now so I don’t want to bother her, and Leon hasn’t been around in ages, IDK if they even use tumblr anymore)

Have you ever received hate on a fic? 

Not really no? I can only remember one time with somebody kind of demanding me to completely rewrite one fic in the past. It wasn’t really hate, more just...kinda unreasonable in my eyes? This was years ago by now.

While I did understand their side and the particular struggle they had (once they actually explained it, the first comment at the time came off pretty rude and demanding), I still feel them wanting me to re-write an entire multi-chapter fic just for them is a bit unreasonable, like said.

Like it wasn’t just couple of grammatical errors that was their issue, we’re talking weeks and even months long process of completely reworking multi-chapter story, because the grammar wasn’t tip top perfect. (I’m not a native speaker so there’s bound to be some mistakes; pointing out small occasional things is one thing - asking me to rewrite an entire multi-chapter story is another)

You can imagine that is not exactly high on my priorities list with IRL responsibilities and being more focused on the actual content of what I write, the ongoing stories I’m updating. This fic isn’t even finished yet either, so...yeah. Like after they explained their side of the story I was a bit more understanding, but its still....a bit ridiculous and unreasonable in my eyes to ask somebody to do such a massive overhaul when the story isn’t even finished yet?? Like maybe once its done and I have time I can go and edit it, but not when I haven’t even finished it lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nah. I don’t care about smut a whole lot personally. I much more enjoy writing emotional scenes, character interactions and mystery. Plot over porn basically lmao 

Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

I don’t...do people actually do this? It feels like such a weird and pointless thing to do. It’s fanfic. stuff you write for fun and for free, for people to read for free. I’d also imagine its pretty easy to get caught given AO3 shows when you first posted your story. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

 Yes, a couple of times. In Russian and I think other one was Chinese?

Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Writing the crossovers was kinda that? Like I asked feedback from Tea and Leon on how to write them. there was also actually third crossover story that was supposed to happen (only I wasn’t going to be the one to write it) but this project has been shelved as the other person had to drop majority of online activity due to some IRL health related things. (I’m just glad they recently contacted me to inform they were doing better)

What’s your all time favorite ship? 

Right now it’s..probably pretty obvious its Shigadabi, but I can never really say any ship is my all time fave, as it always changes depending on the fandom lmao. 

I guess my favorite character x proper sleep/emotional stability/happiness will always be the OTP

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oof. I always try to finish every single one, and if I absolutely know I won’t, I tend to just delete them. Thankfully I’ve only done it thrice. Which I guess is still a lot, but compared to how much I write, in context not really? 

What are your writing strengths?

From what I’ve gathered of feedback, its typically emotional moments/character dialogue and interaction/character arcs and so. Mystery plots too. Or maybe that last one is just me lmao

What are your writing weakness?

Personally, while I tend to get positive feedback on both, sometimes I feel like I struggle to choose a good pacing for a fic, and fight scenes are always a pain. Namely, I might struggle with making the pace too long-winded and slow sometimes. Ironically, my IRL update pacing is probs a bit too fast in turn. (To add another layer of irony, I got an update ready for Unravel that I’ll post after making this tag)

Also writing shorter stories. I’ve been trying to write one-shots more (like the Spinaraki series thing) to kinda try and get myself to pack up my stories better and not let them always spiral out of control haha

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did try to do that once with a fic I deleted, I had a native speaker help me with the canadian french bits. This person is no longer active on tumblr, and I deleted that fic because I realized I’d never finish it. 

Technically tho, as a non-native English speaker, EVERY word is in other language to me lmao. I could only add Finnish as an extra one easily, and it rarely makes sense to do so anyway.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? 

MCU. It’s what I originally made my AO3 for, as I felt brave enough to post things. I also can’t remember writing fandom related stuff before that, it was typically more oc related. Writing fics has helped me learn a lot about world-building, character consistency and all that stuff, without having to make everything from scratch (tho I do enjoy doing that as well of course). I feel like my original work writing has improved too thanks to my fic writing shenanigans in a way lmao. Tho that might just be me, IDK

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? 

Oooof. This changes a lot depending on the time. I can never really pick just one either: my current favorites are Stringmaster, The neighbor and Family Secrets

Stringmaster because I love building the Steampunk AU, and Tomura’s relationship with Dabi and his Sensei, The neighbor because I personally think the romance build up in that one is probably one of the best I’ve done so far (the character dialogue in that is among my favorites I’ve written as well) and FS, because it taught me a lot about character building through writing a character like Hisashi.

 Plus I just really like Hisashi. 

And baby Izuku and little Tenko are super adorable. 

And Inko is the best mum.

 Also the fact the whole story is so ironic in a sense its still kinda funny to me. 

The only writer I know that might be around rn is @nightlilly0110 soo...I guess I’ll tag them if they want to do this! Anybody who’s a writer can snatch this too of course ;)

[captainrexisboo]

Dumb Luck #3

Note: Heyoooooo two updates in one weekend, whaaaaat? No, actually a fun fact, this was started out as my part 2, but i liked my other idea of building the tension with Sweets seeing Rex with his helmet off for the first time better. There will be a part four, it just wont come as quick! I’m gonna have several more parts to this, I have plans y’all. This chapter has ~slight angst~ if you squint hard enough. Again, I’m open to criticism or Hot Takes TM, I’m still a novice writer! Both my asks and messages are open to everyone! Also... y’all, Jesse is a bro. He’s great.

a link to part two- https://captianrexisboo.tumblr.com/post/623995723815452672/dumb-luck-2

Warnings: suggestive language (the usual)

Tags: @persaloodles @starflyer-104 @imalovernotahater @holamor @000ayfh

~

“Hey, Sweets-“

“Not now, busy,” she threw over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at who was walking up to her corner of the hangar.

Y/N was greatly enjoying herself as an assistant to the head mechanic aboard the flagship. She quickly learned about not only the venator-class destroyer, but also about gunships, shuttles, frigates, landers, even more about her beloved droids, and her absolute favorite to work on, the starfighters. If she were alone in the hangars, she would walk over to the rows of starfighters and just study them, marvelling at every screw, panel, and wire and how it built something so amazing. And right now, she was actually able to work on one of these beautiful machines, and she’d be damned if she let anyone stop her workflow.

Rex lifted a brow at her mannerisms as he watched her dive elbow deep into a much older fighter model, one that hadn’t ever been repainted and typically was the last to be boarded and flown out by shinies who didn’t know any better. She was squatting low to the ground, a panel gone from the ship while she tinkered with its insides, hair barely secure, strands falling out of the haphazardly tied bun she had kept in place with only a single stylus. He was still conflicted at her presence on the ship. She had proven to be smart, quick witted, and of course was an absolute stunner, but she was also stubborn as hell, distracting, and always there. Always a mere moment away, in the hangar, in the generator room, in the mess, the repair bay, the armory- and he hasn’t known peace since.

Let’s be honest, he hasn’t known peace since he met General Skywalker, but he was able to have an illusion of what it was like whenever he was alone with his thoughts. Now he didn’t even have that, his internal narrative shaping into her curves before too long, even in his solitude. Things were different with her here, they were more on edge, like he was tiptoeing around her in a delicate dance to avoid a situation where either of them could build onto their practically visible tension. Kix had told him, ever the blunt medic, that he could cut their tension straight through the air with a scalpel it was so obvious. But he was a Captain, and had a job to do, so when he heard that she had been seen speeding down the halls to the hangars with her tools despite all the ships passing inspection just a few hours ago, he knew he had to be sure she wasn’t doing anything out of protocol. He had grabbed Jesse before making his way to the hangar, in case a mediator was needed, and was now grinding his teeth at the woman concentrating so intensely she didn’t even care to look who else was in the room. He shared a flat look with Jesse before clearing his throat to make his presence known, “You might want to take a break, Y/N.”

She paused what she was doing, her shoulders tightening. Only Rex ever used her actual name, especially when he was in one of his damn moods. This was weird, though, him seeking her out. Recently it seemed as if he had been avoiding her, or making sure they weren’t alone if they had to be in the same room. Try as she could to get his attention, get him all flustered, he’d always just be slightly out of reach, and she was getting increasingly frustrated. She rolled her eyes, summoning her signature bravado before she smoothly stood up to turn around, jutting a hip out and giving a lazy salute, “Ahoy, Captain.”

Jesse tried to mask his giggles under a cough, watching the two interact was his favorite pastime. Rex took note for later to ask a different intermediary for the next strife, before pointing his head to the ship, “What are you doing to that fighter?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” she smiled brightly, almost prideful, wiping her grease slicked hands on the pant leg of her GAR jumpsuit, “Messing with this lovely hunk of junk.”

“Messing with it?” Rex questioned, barely hiding his glance at the handprint now crudely placed on her thigh.

“Gave myself a project to work on,” she explained sauntering towards the pair of troopers with an arm outstretched to the ship, “Boys, meet my baby.”

“Your baby?” Rex slowly tore his gaze off her to look over the fighter blandly, “What a miracle of science.”

“Is Artoo the dad?” Jesse snickered, before receiving a light smack on the arm from the woman. She still chuckled at the quip, showing good humor to him. Despite being absolutely infuriating, Jesse was quickly becoming a good friend to her, like a brother she never wanted.

“Did you get permission before completely gutting the engine, at least?” Rex asked, looking around at the parts that lay on the floor, surrounding her workspace.

She sighed, “Yes, I did, just a bit ago. Ask Caine, he was the final sign off on it. Went through all the proper channels.”

Rex's jaw twitched, stiffening the hand holding his helmet, “It didn’t come through on my end.”

“Maybe it didn’t need to,” she shot, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms, “I’m sure there are some things on this ship that don’t require your approval, sir.”

There it is. The way she said that word got him all riled up. It was one little word, one he got called by from every trooper on every hour of every rotation, but it was her honey-coated voice saying it that drove him to his limit. Every time she spoke the word to him it was like a challenge, daring him to expose his desirous aggression toward her, taunting his mask of composure. Every time she spoke, with a demanding storm in her glare and candy pink lips being teasingly assaulted by her own teeth, it stirred a fire in him he didn’t quite know how to quell. It was maddening, and got worse and burned deeper with every encounter. Before he could dig himself deeper into her trap, he simply pulled on his helmet with a slight growl, and turned on his heel to stalk away from the conversation, barely grumbling out a gruff, “I’m going to talk to Caine.”

“What crawled up his ass and died?” Y/N felt herself wilt a bit as she watched him go, taken aback by the retreat, and admittedly a little disappointed. Usually he’d last longer.

Jesse let out a stale bark of laughter, “Same thing that crawled up yours.”

“Jesse,” she warned, cold eyes coming up to focus on him, drawing out his name as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Sweets,” he mimicked her tone and stance, chuckling low, “Why don’t you just go after him? He’s all pent-up and frustrated, I don’t think the troops can take another feral sparring session. Hell, I don’t think I can take it. Think of the poor shinies.”

She shrugged at him, rolling her eyes as her head lolled to the side, “What can I say, I’m a self-destructive mess that likes to delay my own happiness and ultimate satisfaction.”

“Bantha shit,” Jesse rolled his own amber-hazel eyes at her, “I think you're just a brat.”

She laughed lowly, batting her lashes at him, “Same thing, trooper.”

She turned around, intent on continuing her work before she felt a gloved hand wrap itself around her elbow, turning her back to face the ARC, “I’m serious. Why are you dragging this out, adding to the pressure? If you keep this up, one of you will explode before too long, and then- whether it’s a good explosion, or a bad one- there’s gonna be one hell of a mess to clean up in its wake.”

She lifted a brow at his wording, “Was that innuendo literal, or-”

“Ew,” Jesse blanched, letting go of her arm and scrunching his face at the mental image., “That’s my ori’vod!”

Y/N threw her hands up in a mock surrender with a devilish smirk on her lips, “Look, you’re the one who said it.”

“Just answer the question, maker!”

She was silent for a minute, pursing her lips as she gathered her thoughts together. Jesse was staring intently at her, crossing his arms as he waited for her. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits in her focused state, and she exhaled slowly through her mouth, “I...I don’t know if he actually likes me or not. Sure, we banter, and I flirt, but I don’t know if he legitimately thinks of me the same way. I mean, today he just walked away from our conversation, and it made me feel kind of dejected. He seemed...I don’t know. Exasperated. Like he’s tired of me.”

Jesse had never seen her so vulnerable, so small. Sure, she was easily more than a head shorter than them, but her confidence and charisma always made her seem like she was eight feet tall. She twirled a lock of stray hair around her fingers, looking anywhere but Jesse as she continued, “His responses always vary, so I can’t pin down his exact feelings! He can either be cold and dismissive like today, or he can be actively matching my turn of phrase, there's no in between. So I always just...well, I tease him, you’ve seen it. I’m just testing the waters, seeing if he’s interested.”

“Sweets-“ Jesse cut himself off as he let a heavy hand fall onto her lithe shoulder, “Y/N, look at me.”

At the sound of her name, she blinked up at him, biting her lip to keep from pouting. Jesse was about to continue, barely opening his mouth to begin, when there was a greeting from behind them.

“There she is, right where you left her, Captain!”

Rex had come back, face unreadable as he looked between Jesse and Y/N. An older, brown man walked next to him, tall and lean with a salt and pepper fade, his smile as wide as his stride, “Sweets, lass! Making headway on that pile of scrap, huh?”

“Yes sir, Caine,” she greeted, standing upright and saluting him properly before turning offhandedly to Rex and crossing her arms, “Captain.”

Rex felt his jaw twitch at the sudden chill coming off of her, his brow furrowing at the sudden switch in her demeanor. Caine continued waving his arms, animatedly gesturing to the fighter, “This ship will run better than the day it was bought when you’re through with it, I know it. But, our most thorough Captain here has made it known to me that we did skip a step in approving your request.”

She looked Rex up and down, crossed arms tightening over her ribcage, “Oh really? And what step would that be?”

“Admiral Wulff Yularen,” Rex answered, tone even and cool to match her own, “You’re right in that it wouldn’t pass over my desk, however these are still Republic owned ships. He needs to approve...whatever you’re doing before you continue.”

She bit her lip and tightly squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deep through her nose, before responding, “Fine. I’ll clean up my station. Is there a time I can meet with the Admiral to discuss my mistake?”

Rex began to respond, before Jesse stepped in, “I’ll go explain the situation to him. Caine, would you mind tagging along?”

“Let’s stop by my office to get her approval request forms. Anything that makes this take longer, it gets me away from the repair reports,” Caine guffawed as he walked away with Jesse, leaving the Captain and mechanic on their own. He shifted as her burning stare held onto him for an extended moment after the two had left.

“What?” he growled out, growing aggravated at the silent attitude she was giving him.

“You’re a fucking tattle tale,” she spat out before turning on her heel to begin picking up her tools and various discarded parts of the fighter, “Going to my boss because a form didn’t come your way.”

“What are you, a youngling?” he shot back, but striding over to help her out, “I’m doing you a favor! If Admiral Yularen had found out one of his ships had been tampered with, without his permission, he’d blacklist you from the GAR and put you in a ship to drop you on that same dirt ball we found you on.”

Admiral Yularen was much more empathetic than that, and would not go as far as that for a punishment. But she didn’t need to know that right now.

“I’m not tampering with it- don’t touch my tools,” she looked over to see him dropping her wrenches and welders unceremoniously into her box, “I’m not tampering, I’m fixing. I’m a mechanic, it’s what I kriffin do, I’m sure he’d understand.”

He continued to pick up her scattered tools as she turned back to the disorganized pieces of metal with a roll of his eyes, “That may be so, but the GAR has a very strict way of doing things, and unfortunately the line of command doesn’t just stop at Caine for you. In fact-“

“I said don’t touch my tools!”

“Y/N, I’m trying to help you!” he nearly yelled at her, his voice booming in the high ceilings of the hangar, “Anything I’ve done today, is to help you!”

She scoffed, unmoved by his commanding demeanor, “Sure, help me. You didn’t even want me on this ship to begin with!”

“That’s-“

“You still don’t like me, do you? Is that why you don’t respond to my advances?” she was stalking toward him now, her mess and tools pushed to the farthest corner of her mind until they got this discussion over with. He stood his ground as she got closer, standing at his full height but looking her directly in the eyes nonetheless.

“Y/N-“

“I flirt and tease you all damn day and you just ignore me! Or worse, you respond and then leave when you realize you might’ve reacted a little too positively. I’d at least like a solid no from you, make yourself clear, please!”

“Hey!” he laid two strong hands on her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze, “Shut. Up.”

She glared at him, but complied, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she stood defiantly to him, as tall as she could under his grip. He allowed himself a slow breath, inhale through his nose, hold, exhale through his mouth. He softened his hold, and let his deep honey eyes search her stormy glare, delving into the depths of her soul to make sure she understood, “I think I like you, Y/N. More than I ought to.”

He let that sink in, his cheeks flushing at his own sudden boldness but keeping a lock on her gaze. She raised her brows in surprise, eyes going wide as her agitation subsided, being replaced with something more delicate before sputtering out, “Oh. Okay. Uh, great. So...why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He let out a dark chuckle, letting his eyelids get heavy, “Always one for tact.”

She shrugged under his grasp, a slight grin gracing her features at his amused expression, “Would you expect anything less?”

He shook his head, letting his lips twitch upwards as his thumbs absentmindedly rubbed circles into her shoulders, before clearing his throat, “If you had let me finish earlier, your chain of command doesn’t stop at Caine. It includes Yularen, Skywalker, and me. If I’m seen to be ‘romantically involved’ with a crewmember, I could be court martialed. And then you’d be-“

“Sent back to that rock you picked me up from,” she finished for him, letting a hand come up to rub gently at his right wrist, before sighing, “Maker, I hate it when you’re right.”

“It’s a miracle you still like me, then,” he let a cheeky smile pull through his face, causing her to let out a soft giggle. Somewhere between their dispute and his confession, his voice had shifted to a low, coarse whisper that made her want to hang onto every word. He let a hand off her shoulder, gripping her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, “Do you understand, cyar’ika?”

Her breath was stolen from her as she watched his eyes glance down to her lips, his thumb gently pulling at her skin to have her bottom lip pop out of it’s sharp hold. She shuddered, a pleasant quiver going down her spine as she nodded at him. She fluttered her lashes at him as he chuckled low at her response, “What does that mean?”

“Promise not to get mad?” he smirked at her, as a matching blush sweeping over both their cheeks.

“Rex,” she quirked a brow at him playfully, drawling out his name almost musically. He smiled wide at her, practically spellbound with how his name sounded on her lips.

“It’s Mando’a,” he paused for effect, looking around to make sure no out of place soldiers were looking over before dipping low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “for sweetheart.”

She laughed, the sound warm and full, splaying a hand over his armored heart, the plastoid cool underneath her palm, “Fine. But only you are allowed to call me that.”

She pushed him lightly, having him let go of her shoulders. They stood there, smiling at each other, skin burning where the other’s hands had been, gazes soft with mutual ache. Y/N sighed, “So, what does this mean? For us.”

Rex thought for a minute, walking around her to continue where they had left off cleaning. After she had joined him, he hummed in response, “I think it’s a promise.”

“A promise?” she repeated, finishing up putting all the spares and discarded parts in an unlabelled crate next to the fighter. She leaned against the crate, arms crossing as she grinned at him, “What kind of a promise?”

“After the war is done,” Rex explained, tone surprisingly optimistic, “we can travel the galaxy together. No enemies to be on lookout for, not having to worry about getting caught by my nosy men-”

“Does it have to wait till after the war?” she whined, but still watching him as if he were hanging the stars as opposed to just picking up her tool box. He handed her the plasteel case, latching it closed with one deft hand.

“We can discuss that later,” he sent her a sly wink. She rolled her eyes, righting herself off the crate and looking up at him with the familiar teasing glint in her eyes that he’s come to find very charming.

“Just because you’ve finally confessed, don’t think this means I’ll stop toying with you, sir.”

All he could do was let his smile grow, just thinking about all the alluring ways she’ll drive him crazy, “I never wanted you to stop.”

[quicksilversquared]

The Substitute Ladybug: Chapter 11

Final chapter!

After Lila takes things too far and Marinette ends up with a broken leg, Paris is going to have to deal with a different superhero arrangement for a bit. Having to share her superhero identity with her parents before Hawkmoth can be defeated isn’t something that Marinette had planned on doing, but- well, it might end up being a bit of a blessing in disguise.

links in the reblog

Getting to go out again- heading down the stairs without the help of a lift, bounding out the door, rushing unencumbered down the sidewalk to the spot where she was going to meet up with her friends- was amazing.

Tripping over a raised bit of sidewalk because she wasn't being careful and going flying with a squawk... well, that was a lot less fun.

But at least Adrien was right there to catch her before she could hit the ground.

"Easy there," Adrien said with a laugh, setting Marinette back up on her feet. "Man, you're off crutches and already speeding around, huh?"

Marinette laughed, even as she felt her cheeks heating up. "Yeah. I'm just excited, I guess."

"I don't blame you. And no crutches?"

"The doctor said that I'm all good to go, as long as I don't overdo it." Marinette grimaced down at the uneven bit of sidewalk. "Though maybe I should hold off on the running down the sidewalk for a bit. I'm sure someone would be concerned if I showed up with my knees all scraped up not even a day after getting the cast off."

If she were being honest, that someone might very well be her. After weeks of being in a cast, Marinette couldn't help but be a little paranoid that she would re-injure herself and her taste of freedom and normalcy would be snatched away again by further weeks of casts and crutches and bedrest.

Adrien made a face. "Yeah, that wouldn't be the best. I can't imagine your parents banning you from doing things like my father would, but they probably wouldn't be happy." He paused, then flashed her a smile, clearly deciding to move on. "It must nice to have everything back to normal, huh?"

"So nice," Marinette told him. "I can do stairs again! My parents and I are going to work on taking the lifts down and returning them this weekend, so then we can have the stairs all clear again. And they moved me back to my normal room last night and it's so nice to be back and have access to all of my stuff again. Especially my sewing supplies! My parents had offered to bring stuff down, but there were too many things I might need and I didn't want them to dig for things I requested and get everything messed up."

"Yeah, I can imagine how easy that would be," Adrien agreed. "I've seen your sewing set-up and all of the boxes you have. I don't know how you find anything, but I'm sure you have some sort of system."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah. It makes sense in my head." She probably should buy a proper storage system at some point- a modular storage system with a bunch of drawers would be easier to organize than a heap of shoeboxes of all sizes- but that would have to wait until summer.

Honestly, it would be best if it could be customizable and added onto as her collection of tools and materials expanded, which meant that she might end up making it on her own. Which definitely meant waiting until summer, but her shoeboxes could last until then. One or two might need a bit of assistance from some duct tape, but that was fine.

"I'm glad that I got to come out today," Adrien told her as they headed the short distance down the block to their meeting point. Alya and Nino were nowhere in sight yet, but that wasn't surprising. After all, both she and Adrien were running early to their lunch-and-ice-cream get-together. "Father and Nathalie initially wanted me to tag along on some luncheon with one of Father's business partners, even though whenever I have to do those, I need to stay completely silent unless directly addressed. Which happens maybe once per lunch, and it's always really obvious that they're just addressing me to be polite and acknowledge that I'm there instead of just outright ignoring me."

"I'm glad they let you come today," Marinette told him. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to go to a fancy lunch and be expected to exist as- well, as decoration, really. The closest thing she had ever done was go out with her parents to meet some of their friends or extended family, people that she didn't really know well and felt a bit awkward around. But they always tried to include her for at least part of the conversation and if she wanted to ask them any questions, she could. "Lunch at the cafe probably won't be as fancy as your father's luncheon, but it should be more fun!"

"Better company, too," Adrien told her, grinning. "And sometimes fancy food is overrated. Honestly, a panini and some soup sounds amazing. And- hey, there's Alya and Nino! It's about time, slowpokes!" he called. "Hurry up!"

"We're coming, calm down!" Nino called back, not picking up the pace at all. "It's not our fault that you two decided to come early!"

Adrien just shrugged. "I was looking forward to coming out, so sue me!"

"I'm just glad your pops finally saw sense and let you out." Nino finally drew close enough to exchange a fist bump with Adrien, grinning at him before turning his attention to Marinette. "So, what did the doctor say? Your cast is off- all good things?"

"All good things," Marinette confirmed. "My leg's healed well, now I just have to build the muscle back up. And that's going to be a bit of a process, but at least it won't test my patience as much as the cast and crutches did."

"Nice!"

It didn't take them long to reach the cafe and place their orders, then crowd around a small table to wait for their lunch to be delivered. Their knees jostled each other as they settled- it definitely wasn't a table meant for four people- but Marinette couldn't help but grin, definitely more excited than she really should be for what was a fairly simple outing. It was just that, well, everything was normal again.

"A hot lunch, a cold treat, and great company- what else could you ask for?" Adrien asked happily as their food got delivered to their table. "What a perfect day!"

They all nodded, already digging into their food. Marinette let out a happy hum as the blend of cheeses in her sandwich that she had ordered hit her tongue. It was the perfect temperature, hot enough to warm her up but not so scalding as to burn her tongue when she took a bite.

"Well, at the risk of sounding like an old dodder, how about a toast?" Alya asked after a minute of happy munching had passed. "To the rest of the school year only being exciting in good ways?"

"Oh, man, I'll drink to that," Nino said at once, accidentally sending his cup sloshing when he clinked it against Alya's a little too quickly. "No more nasty surprises! We've had enough of that this year already."

Marinette nodded, thinking back. There had been a lot of crappy things that had happened in the past year- the Heroes Day attack, Lila's return (and everything that went along with it), her loss of Master Fu's support and the reveal of all (or almost all)of the temporary superheroes, and then her broken leg. Then Nino and Alya- most of their classmates, really- had been hit pretty hard by the reveal of Lila's true colors and the realization that none of her 'connections' were actually real.

Maybe most of the year had been pretty good, but there had been a lot of pretty harsh lows.

"I think we could all do with a few nice surprises," Adrien agreed, lifting his cup as well. "Or at the very least, a bit of calm."

Marinette smiled, thinking of her superhero life. After all the madness of the past couple of months, calm with some nice surprises sounded absolutely perfect.

  Luckily for the superheroes, several days passed before Hawkmoth struck again. Ladybug and Chat Noir spent the time doing nightly patrols, racing across the rooftops and practicing some of their battle skills as best they could without getting spotted, or at least without getting spotted close enough for anyone to notice that it was Ladybug and not Coccinelle out. Chat Noir was still being more careful with her than usual- they had to abandon tag because he wasn't trying, just because their tag usually involved tackling- but thankfully he hadn't let that carry over to their battle, instead falling back to their usual smooth dynamic.

Well. Their usual smooth dynamic, with some adjustments. Their nightly patrols had helped them suss out Ladybug's new limits and weak spots ahead of their battle, allowing them to figure out how they might account for that while Ladybug recovered. There was less flirting and more focus- Ladybug suspected that either Coccinelle had said something about timing of puns and flirting and when it would take away from their focus, or Chat Noir had just gotten used to having incredibly focused and fast-paced fights with Vipera, when they never had the time for joking around and any punning could get in the way of Vipera's instructions- and that meant that they were smacking down on the akuma almost as hard as they had been when it was Coccinelle and Chat Noir on the battlefield, with Vipera in their ears.

Ladybug grinned as Chat Noir taunted the akuma, pulling its attention over to him as she dodged in, jumping and flipping over the akuma's shoulder in a controlled tumble so she could snag the corrupted pin holding the akuma's cap on, yanking it off and landing only with a slight stumble. Ladybug crushed the pin as the akuma's (very limited) mind-controlled army stumbled to a halt, purifying the butterfly and releasing it into the air. Chat Noir came over to join her as she called for her Cure, his grin just as wide as her own.

"That went really well," Chat Noir said happily as Ladybug returned the restored pin to the akuma victim. "Only ten minutes, and that was with a mind-control akuma too! And not all of those ten minutes were spent fighting, even."

Ladybug grinned, turning to face him. "Yeah, three minutes of us being out and transformed was just watching the cameras like I did as Vipera to figure out the powers and where the akuma was. Maybe we just got lucky this fight and it won't help as much all the time, but..."

"I think it's a good idea to do that all the time," Chat Noir said, extending his baton enough that he could lean forward on it, beaming over at her. "It's scoping out the fight in advance and gathering intel without having cars and spider webs and random powers getting flung at us. Maybe it won't help as much every time, but when it does..."

Ladybug nodded. If they could shave down battle times at all, it would be worth it. Especially since- well, there were still parts of the battle that could have gone more smoothly, even with their preparation. They needed every advantage they could get.

"Ladybug! Ladybug, a quick word!"

"Aaand here come the reporters," Chat Noir said with a small sigh. He flashed a smile at Ladybug. "Are you good to give a statement now, or should we bounce?"

"I'm good," Ladybug told him. "It'll just be a quick comment anyway."

Chat Noir nodded, still not looking completely convinced. "Okay, if you're sure-"

"Ladybug! Are you back for good? What was the nature of your injury? Will we see Coccinelle again, or will she come out with a different Miraculous? Can you give a statement to Paris about why you decided to leave on vacation in the middle-"

"If anyone questions why I took well-deserved time off, I won't be answering any questions and Coccinelle will come after you," Ladybug told them tartly, cutting across the cacophony of overlapping voices, and the reporters promptly shut up and sent a dark look at the man who had asked about Ladybug's vacation. "As for the rest- yes, I'm back, though Coccinelle and I have not ruled out her occasionally coming out in my place as needed. And I'd like to thank Paris for accepting her with open arms, even without a heads-up that there was going to be a temporary switch." She flashed the cameras a grin and a peace sign. "Peace out, Paris!'

And with that, she flung out her yo-yo and was off like a shot. There were a few cries of protest from behind her since she hadn't answered all of the questions, really, just one. She hadn't said anything about her injury, or if Coccinelle might come out with a different Miraculous, or-

"Wow, you might need to call Coccinelle out again to go after the reporters," Chat Noir commented, landing on the roof behind her. "I can understand being curious about if Coccinelle will come out again, but I thought she made it clear that people need to respect your privacy and not push for details."

"Well, if they can't manage to cut it out, my mom is teaching me her patented Icy Mom Glare." Ladybug giggled. "Though I might rename it to the Patented Superhero Glare, since Mom Glare just comes with implications."

"Good idea." Chat Noir fell quiet for a moment, glancing her way a few times like he wanted to say something. Ladybug raised a curious eyebrow at him, and he glanced away again before letting out a sigh. "So. Uh. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, if we have time."

"I'm sitting at just under four minutes," Ladybug told him. "Go ahead."

"Right. So. Uh." Chat Noir rand a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "So I swear that I'm not just bringing it up now because we have less than five minutes left on our timers and you can't get that mad at me in that amount of time, really. But I've been thinking back to my last few battles and patrols with Coccinelle- well, the patrols, really, not so much the battles, there wasn't much time for talking then-"

He was definitely babbling now, but Ladybug just settled back against a chimney and waited.

"-anyway, I didn't really notice anything off at the time, but I think that maybe, possibly, potentially, your, uh. Mom might suspect who I am."

There was a pause. Ladybug blinked.

"I mean, I don't know for sure, and I still don't understand how it could be at all likely, but some of the things she said, sometimes- I mean, it's possible that I just told her stuff and then forgot that I did and I'm just jumping to conclusions. But. uh. I thought it might be important to mention." Chat Noir let out a sigh. "I know you said during the picnic that it was okay for me to talk to your mom and it wouldn't be the end of the world if she figured me out, but I still wasn't expecting it to actually happen. And I worry about what that means for us keeping our identities secret from each other."

Well. She hadn't been planning on passing on Tikki's comment quite yet, since they were only one fight in and she had wanted to have maybe a couple weeks of normal battles again before doing any sort of identity reveal reassessment, just to let the dust and fuss around her return settle a bit first. But maybe she was just overthinking things and it would be better to just keep Chat Noir clued in. Then they could both be in on the same loop and maybe discuss their theories about Tikki's words.

"Actually, about that," Ladybug started slowly, and Chat Noir's ears twitched towards her. "Tikki and I were talking a few weeks ago about identity stuff, and she said that we were getting closer to being able to do a reveal. Like, I thought we would have to wait until Hawkmoth gets defeated, but apparently it's a possibility that we won't have to wait for that. I don't know what, exactly, she's looking for," she added quickly, because really all Tikki had said was something about getting closer and maturation and growth and in all honesty, she didn't fully understand what, exactly, Tikki was referring to, which was probably why her kwami had told her not to try to force the growth. If she tried to explain it to Chat Noir... well, she could easily muddle everything up and might accidentally end up insulting him somehow. "Or how long it would take for us to get there. But the whole leg thing somehow got us closer."

Somehow wasn't exactly the right word for it- Ladybug had noticed some subtle shifts in their relationship compared to before her leg got broken- but she didn't want to draw attention to those shifts. Somehow she suspected that, like Adrien's change in attitude towards Chloe (which was continuing, even as Chloe dug her heels in stubbornly), pointing it out directly might only serve to make him uncomfortable.

Even if she had wanted to try, Ladybug wasn't even sure that she would be able to find the words to describe the differences. Some, like the focus during the battle and the flirting retreating back to fully playful, were easy enough to put her finger on. Others...

Well, others were not, shifts too subtle to really pick out what exactly had changed. It was all good changes, though.

Chat Noir lit up, grinning. "That's cool! So it's really not as big of a deal as I was worried it might be."

"Tikki still wants us to wait if possible, but yeah, the world's not going to end or anything if we slip up and figure each other out." Ladybug grinned as well, unable to help getting caught up in Chat Noir's excitement. "I kind of wish she had said more, but..."

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, I hope," Chat Noir told her. He wriggled in place, clearly hyped up about the news, and then he half-pounced on her, scooping Ladybug up in an excited hug. "This week has been amazing. You're back, we got to hang out with bonus patrols, our first post-return battle was a super success, and we might get to share our identities and- and hang out outside of the masks soon! Or at least before we defeat Hawkmoth," he corrected himself before Ladybug could say anything. He set her down, still grinning. "That's amazing."

"It has been a pretty good week," Ladybug agreed, beaming. Maybe it was early in her post-recovery return, but so far, so good. She leaned forward, hugging her partner tightly. "Here's to hoping that it keeps going that way."

"Yeah." Chat Noir glanced down at her, his expression entirely fond. "I hope so, too."

  Another week passed and at school, Marinette slipped back into her normal routine easily enough. She could take the stairs on her own now, no more piggyback rides or taking the elevator necessary. Adrien usually stuck close by when they were on the stairs, close enough to steady her in case she ever tripped- which she hadn't, not yet- but that was the only major change from before.

And it was hardly a bad change, either. Maybe Marinette had come to the conclusion that she needed to hold off on dating until Hawkmoth was taken care of, but getting a bit of extra attention from Adrien was never a bad thing. She was getting used to it now, and not blushing as much or messing up her words when he slung his arm around her shoulder or wound his arm through hers as they walked to class together.

(She wasn't going to read too far into his sudden closeness. Maybe Alya was right and he had developed a crush on her, but maybe he was just making sure that she wouldn't get knocked around and risk breaking her leg again, so soon after getting the cast off. Which- well, it wasn't going to happen, not with the amount of healing that she had done with Tikki's help, but she wasn't going to mention her magically sped-up healing to her friends. It would just open the door to too much questioning.)

The week had two more akuma battles- Tanker joined them for one, not because they were struggling but just because it was the bakery's day off- and several patrols. The patrols weren't strictly necessary- they hadn't regularly done them before, since they had been so busy and overwhelmed- but with the newly-shortened battles, they had more free time to spend together. It also gave the two superheroes time to hang out and tease and joke around when there wasn't the pressure of a battle hanging over them, so they could buckle down and be super-focused during battles without sacrificing their friendship and their bantering dynamic. It was something that Marinette really wanted to be able to keep doing long-term, as long as her schedule allowed for it.

(Tikki really, really liked that arrangement, though she wouldn't tell Marinette exactly why. Marinette suspected that it had something to do with the whole 'growing' thing that Tikki had talked about before. Marinette wasn't going to overthink it, though. Patrols were time for her to have fun with her partner and use the Miraculous to relax- and to get more exercise so that she could start building up her strength and endurance again, that was an extra bonus- and she wasn't going to ruin that time by wondering if they were growing as much as her kwami had hoped.)

Marinette wasn't willing to just let things continue as they were, though. It would be easy enough to sit back and fall into a new routine, one with patrols with Chat Noir and battles that occasionally included her parents. It was working really well, after all. But she had learned a lot while she was sidelined, about strategy and long-term planning, and she wanted to keep working on that. Sure, akuma battles were better now, but it would be absolutely fantastic if they didn't have akuma attacks anymore. If Hawkmoth and Mayura were defeated, she wouldn't have to worry about attacks disrupting her day or waking her up at night. She and Chat Noir could hang out safely during the day, instead of having to stay up late, and could help out around the city when it was more convenient for them. Everyone would be safer, and the city wouldn't have to worry about Hawkmoth preying on their emotions.

It was a nice thought, and Marinette wanted to get there sooner rather than later. And that meant being proactive with her approach and planning what she could do to change things up and throw Hawkmoth off.

She already had some plans in place of things that she could switch up at random, of course. Ladybug could swap out for Coccinelle and Vipera. Her dad could come out as Tanker- and Hawkmoth was definitely scared of Tanker after the beatdown that he had gotten- and her mom could bring out bonus Miraculous or deliver them to backup holders directly, instead of them having to suspend the battle to sneak Miraculous out.

And if that wasn't enough to turn the tides in their favor- well. They could switch things up even more. One of the things that Marinette's time on the sidelines had taught her was that one of the hallmarks of a good leader was recognizing when she might do more good in another position. Maybe she loved being on the battlefield and being Ladybug, but if she was more effective as Vipera and her mom could fill Ladybug's shoes without compromising an overly large amount on fighting ability...

It was just a thought, something for her to consider and keep in mind as more of their battles unfolded. Marinette would have to talk to the kwamis to get their opinions, and of course it was possible that an adult Snake would be able to unlock more- not powers, necessarily, but perhaps flexibility. If the timer-stop could be continuously adjusted instead of having just one fixed reset point with an adult holder, that would be a valuable thing to know. It would make what she had done as Vipera not nearly as difficult to do, so- in theory, at least- then one of her parents could take over as the Snake instead.

It would still be smart not to reset to the very closest point, just for flexibility reasons, but it wouldn't require remembering dozens of resets' worth of instructions.

That was a good starting point, Marinette decided as she settled back into her bed. Above her, she could see the shadows on her balcony shifting in the breeze, pale moonlight beaming down from above. She had a framework in place, things to ask about and try out and see what worked best. There would be a lot of moving parts around and trying new things and constantly shaking things up while keeping track of all of it, but that didn't worry Marinette.

After all, with Chat Noir and her parents by her side, anything was possible.

[cognitivefunk]

Yaaay, I finally finished this request for @maryiii006  I’m sorry it took a couple weeks, I hit a writer’s block so I hope it’s ok~~ Title: Only Look at Me Fandom: Diabolik Lovers Pairing: Shu Sakamaki x Yui Komori Rating: Explicit (smut) Warnings: One sided-affection (side character), smut, oral sex, character death but it’s very ‘read between the lines’/off screen if you will Word Count: 3,350

It had been a little over a month since the two of them had moved out to the countryside. Shu decided it would be best to live in quiet surroundings alongside Yui, unburdened by his brothers or by the noise pollution of busy city life. Ever since he had opened his heart to her, he wanted nothing more than to be by her side, and for her to be by his. Just the thought of being apart got under his skin. It was all the better to do so under the refuge of nature, with the sound of the steam by their modest house and the soothing sounds of nature being their only company.

Be that as it may, Yui wanted something to busy herself with, as they embarked on their life together. She was flustered at the thought of being alone with the vampire at first, since it would be like they were living as a married couple. She wondered if perhaps one day that would be possible, for them to have a little ceremony, but she was happy to be with him regardless. And so began a new chapter of uncharted territory for the pair.

Yui kept to a nocturnal schedule for Shu’s sake, and picked up an evening shift at a small rural clinic. She mentored under the doctor there as an assistant, alongside another girl similar in age by the name of Aoife. She never explicitly asked, but the red haired, freckled woman seemed similar in age to Yui. The doctor was a strange man with dark hair and bags under his grey eyes that never seemed to lighten. He wore thick framed glasses that distracted from the tired features of his face. The man wasn’t particularly old, but the constant lack of sleep defined his face.

--

Yui organized the glass jars of various herbs and medical tools. The clinic had more of an apothecary vibe than a modern medical office. “Yui, could you brew another pot of coffee please?” a rich baritone voice asked from behind the younger woman and she stood up, brushing her skirt as she did so. “Sure thing!” she responded cheerfully. Most of her tasks at the clinic involved cleaning, organizing, and brewing the coffee since she had no real medical training. Aoife typically handled a lot of the patient intake information but she was running late, leaving Yui alone with the doctor for a few hours.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the clinic, which gave the woman a sense of comfort. She poured a mug and brought it over to where the doctor, who was sitting in his chair going over some paperwork. He lifted his eyes toward her when she handed him the mug and took it into his hands, intentionally grazing his fingers over hers and letting them linger for a moment too long. Yui retracted her hands and turned to busy herself with more work but the man reached out to grab her by the wrist.

“Yui…why don’t you help me with some of this work?” he spoke low, pulling her closer to him, moving his hand to place firmly on her hip. “I don’t really know how to do any of that, maybe you should wait until Aoife comes back?” Yui offered, trying to maintain politeness despite her discomfort. She figured the doctor was just being friendly; at least that’s what she was hoping for.

“You’re right,” he stated, setting his glasses on the table beside them. He stood, his hand still on Yui’s hip as he guided her to the exam table and prompted her to sit on the piece of equipment. “Paperwork is Aoife’s job after all,” there was an unnerving cheerfulness in his voice as he spoke, “Instead, I’ll teach you how to do a proper examination instead.” He circled around the young woman, loosening the tie around his neck slightly before lightly brushing his fingers across her exposed thigh. The blonde gulped nervously, but went along with his whim for the time being, still giving him the benefit of the doubt, despite her growing suspicions on the situation.

“Let’s start with a physical,” the doctor turned around, grabbing a wooden tongue suppressor from one of the glass jars beside the metal table. “Say ‘aaaah’,” he ordered, and Yui opened her mouth widely, sticking her tongue out as she followed his order. “Good girl,” he muttered, pressing the stick against her tongue and peering into her mouth. A small smirk spread across his face before he pressed the suppressor further back against her tongue, causing her to gag and pull away. He tsked and tossed the wooden stick into the waste bin beside them. “We’ll have to work on that gag reflex of yours, it’s far too sensitive,” he replied cryptically when Yui gave him a questioning look. “But your mouth is nice and healthy. A lovely color, in fact…”

“Thank you?” Yui wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement, and goosebumps were starting to prick against her skin. Something didn’t feel quite right, and she found herself glancing over at the clock, wondering if her female partner would arrive soon. Her shift was ending soon and she wanted to go home. The older man’s hands were on her neck, feeling around her jaw and lymph nodes at first, but his fingers soon started to caress her throat, gliding up to swipe a thumb over her lower lip. “You’re very beautiful, Yui.”

The blonde swallowed hard, eliciting a look of excitement on the doctor’s face, as he felt the motion of her throat under his fingers. “I, I think I should go for today sir.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to come back, knowing that the man was interested in her. She wondered how Shu would react if he knew what had happened here. She knew he would be able to smell his scent on her skin.

The doctor leaned forward, intending to capture her lips for his own, but Yui turned her head when she saw him moving toward her, causing his lips to brush against her hair before he tightened his grip on her. “Don’t play coy with me, I know you want this,” he spoke against her ear and she shut her eyes tightly, murmuring a soft, “No,” before bracing herself for his retaliation when suddenly she felt him move away from her abruptly and a pained cry reached her ears.

“Hey, dirtbag, get your hands off of her,” Shu had shoved the man to the ground, situating himself in front of Yui, shielding her from the doctor as he got to his feet. “Yui, who is this?” the man asked, eyeing the vampire with suspicion as he prepared himself to square off with Shu, unaware of the power difference the two of them truly had.

“This is Shu, he’s my uh—“

“Yui is my betrothed,” the blonde vampire said coolly, “I came to bring her home since she was running late. To think she was wrapped up in something like this…” there was an obvious annoyance in his voice as he glanced back at her. A blush crossed her cheeks at the word betrothed, and a smile started to spread across Shu’s face, but his gaze was soon back on the other man, as the doctor had attempted to take a swing at him. Shu caught his arm with ease, twisting it so that his shoulder joint dislocated, earning another pained cry from the assailant.

“Yui, do you really want to be with such a ruffian? I could provide a happy life for you,” the doctor attempted to reason with her, but she recoiled, frowning at the man as he worked on replacing his shoulder back to its rightful place. A nasty snarl distorted his features at her silent denial of his advances and he grabbed a scalpel from the drawer next to his desk.  

“Close your eyes Yui,” the vampire growled out, and she shut her eyes immediately, instinctively covering her ears in the process. “Please don’t kill him,” she pleaded with Shu, but didn’t dare open her eyes. She could still hear the muffled groan as Shu brought his foot down on the doctor’s gut before he leaned down to grab him by the throat.

“Don’t you ever touch her again, do you hear me? She’s mine. Consider yourself lucky she’s even here right now, or I wouldn’t hesitate to end your miserable existence,” his words were dangerous as Shu held the doctor in the air by his throat, letting him claw at his hand in an attempt to escape his grasp. He kept his jaw clenched, as he peered into the man’s eyes, his pupils constricted like that of a predator. His self-control was waning, as he contemplated ending the man’s life then and there when the ring of the door caught his attention. Glancing behind his shoulder, he met the gaze of a young woman as he stood in the middle of the clinic still holding the doctor by his neck.

Emerald eyes took in the situation before her. Aoife looked to the right, seeing Yui sitting on the examination table with her eyes closed and her hands over her ears. Then to the left, where the doctor was quickly losing breath, judging by the blue that was beginning to tint his fingertips and the edges of his face. The scalpel had fallen to the floor in the scuffle. She smiled at the vampire serenely, “I think you should take Yui home. It’s time for my shift, so I’ll clean up this mess.” Her words were gentle, but there was a palpable energy that rolled off of her, signifying the weight of her words. .Shu dropped the man to the floor, watching him gasp for air for a moment before he turned to pick up Yui from the table and walk out of the clinic. “Tch, it’s not worth my time.”

He held her bridal style, walking in silence as he walked down the path toward their home. He was glad they were a distance away when he heard the curdled scream of the doctor followed by a nearly deafening silence. Yui had opened her eyes when she felt his arms wrap around her, and she held onto his neck, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, Shu…” she said softly, still quite shaken from the event. He didn’t reply right away, however, his jaw only clenched in response. Once they made it back to the house, he set her down on the bed and looked her over, making sure she was alright before speaking.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” he asked, a pained expression scrunched his eyebrows, and he leaned his forehead against hers, his intense gaze peering into hers. “I don’t know, I just froze,” Yui responded, and Shu searched her eyes for any sign of dishonesty before he sighed and kissed the side of her jaw, leaving a trail of kisses over her skin. “I was scared and thought someone would walk in and he would stop.”

“Then I’m glad I came in when I did,” he spoke gently, but there was still an edge of anger in his gaze. “So you really didn’t like him, right?” There was a pleading look in his eyes, as he searched her face. “Of course not, I just didn’t know how to handle the situation. You saw him, he grabbed a knife,” she reasoned, shivering at the thought.

“Don’t think about him. I’m tired of it already.” Yui bit her lip, fidgeting her hands together in her lap. “I’ll erase him from your skin,” he murmured, running his hands over the places where the doctor had caressed Yui, followed by his lips. He worked his way down her neck, then back up to her lips. Yui sighed into the kiss, relaxing into her beloved’s touch. Her eyes fluttered shut, but then Shu pulled back. “Don’t close your eyes this time,” he pressed his lips against hers once more, pulling away only to speak. “Look only at me, Yui. I won’t let anyone else touch you.”

Yui kept her eyes open, her pink irises glittered with emotion as she kissed Shu back, feeling slightly awkward staring into his eyes as they kissed. His fingers found their way to her lap, interlacing his fingers with hers as he deepened the kiss. His tongue ran along her lower lip, asking for entrance, which was granted when she tilted her head and parted her lips. She let him explore her, tasting her sweetness on his tongue.

“Nnn,” she moaned into the kiss, which was far more intense than usual due to the fervent eye contact. She could see the lust burning in his eyes, replacing the anxiety that was there before. “Look only at me…” he repeated again, his gaze piercing into hers in a standoff between cerulean and rose. “I don’t want you to look at any other men, Yui. I don’t want to let you out of my sight ever again,” he cupped Yui’s cheek after freeing his hand from hers, his cool touch leaving a trail of heat where her body yearned for him.

“If you feel that way, I can resign so I can be closer to you,” Yui answered his unspoken question; she could tell he was truly worried for her wellbeing. But he was also acting jealous over the misunderstanding from the one-sided affection of the doctor. She gently tucked a piece of hair behind Shu’s ear and cupped his cheek in return.

“Did you really mean it? When you said…betrothed?” she asked, remembering the way he protected her earlier that night. A blush darkened on her cheeks, and she waited for his response as her heartbeat quickened in her chest. Shu looked taken back for a moment, but he swiftly recovered with a soft smile. “It is,” he paused, suddenly looking bashful. “If you want it to be, that is…”

A sudden bloom of love burst through Yui’s chest, filling her with excitement. “Of course!” she closed her eyes to smile, overwhelmed with happiness in that moment. “Hey, I told you to look at me,” the vampire teased, holding her close to his body. “I want to see your face, your eyes, all of you…I guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

Yui was about to question what he meant by that when she felt his fangs sink into her neck. “Aaah, Shu!!” she exclaimed, grabbing onto his shoulder while he drank from her. He groaned against her neck, moving his hands to undo her blouse, pushing the offending fabric off of her shoulders before pulling back enough to speak. “You’re sweeter than usual today,” he breathed against her skin, trailing down to her breast, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side. He sunk his fangs into the supple mound, eliciting a low moan from the woman.

Shu chuckled against her breast, using his tongue to flick over the sensitive flesh while he rolled a nipple between his index finger and thumb, pinching and pulling while he looked up at her. He had a sinful look on his face, and it made Yui clench subconsciously, arousal stirring in her belly. “Shu..” her fingers wound into his hair, pulling gently on his messy locks. He let go of her breast with an almost animalistic moan, his eyes wild with lust as he pushed her back against the bed.

He slid down her body, pulling her skirt down, along with her underwear, grinning up at her from his place settled between her legs. “Keep your eyes on me, Yui. I want you to watch me while I do this to you. Hm? Pull on my hair if you need to, but keep your eyes on me. That’s it,” he spoke in his rich honeyed voice, descending onto her core with his mouth. Yui trembled under him, using both of her hands to hold onto his head by tangling her fingers into his hair. Her gaze wavered, but she did her best to keep eye contact whilst he pleasured her. His tongue lapped up the length of her wet heat, settling to circle around her swelling bud as she tugged his hair, eliciting several groans from him.

His piercing blue gaze never wavered from hers as he worked his magic on her pussy, using his fingers to spread her open, gaining more access to her heat. She cried out as he tongue fucked her, her lips trembling as desire threatened to swallow her whole. “Shu, I need you now. Please, please, please,” she started to beg, her legs shaking next to his head as he lifted his body to mount his lover.

“You want me?” he teased, rubbing his length up and down her aching pussy, waiting for her to say something in response. “Shu!!” she cried out, hands shooting up to cover her face. “Ah, ah, none of that,” he swatted her hands away, tilting her chin toward him with his free hand. “Tell me that you want me,” he breathed, chuckling at the cute way she blushed and tried to avert her gaze.

“Please, I want you so much Shu. I want you inside me, I want you to take me—“ she was cut off as he sank into her heat, their moans mixing together as they joined as one. “Yui…you’re always so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth, hissing at the tight heat that surrounded him. “I love you so much,” he leaned down onto his forearms, giving him access to kiss her trembling lips as he buried himself inside of her.

“I love you too, Shu,” she spoke between kisses, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He shifted to use one hand to angle her hips up before driving back into her at a deeper position. “Fuck…Yui.” He watched her face as she started to come undone, her shyness melting into lust as her face relaxed into their shared pleasure. She kissed him, watching the way his eyebrows knit together, the way he hissed and groaned when he thrust his hips against hers.

“I’m so, ahhn, close,” she moaned against him, writhing her hips against his, their rhythm becoming sloppier with their impending climax on the horizon. “Me too, let’s finish together ok?” He sat back on his legs for better leverage, and Yui wrapped her legs tighter around his waist as he gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. Their cries of pleasure filled the room alongside the creaking of the bed as they reached orgasm one after the other. Yui’s legs collapsed to the bed whilst Shu continued a few shallow thrusts, emptying his seed into her waiting womb.

Shu finally pulled out, lying down beside Yui before pulling her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest and placing soft kisses onto her hair. “I don’t ever want to be apart. I never want to see you in that position ever again. I never want to be in a position where I can’t protect you, Yui.”

He pet her hair as he spoke, her breathing slowing against his chest as she relaxed into him. She reached up to hold the side of his face once again, “I’m not going anywhere, Shu. I love you, and I want to be with you always. We’ll figure it out together, so don’t worry ok? You saved me today, and that’s all that matters to me right now.”

Shu let out a hum of agreement, tightening his grip on her before letting out a yawn. They could hear the early sounds of morning as the birds outside chirped outside the window. “Nn, damn. I’m so tired, let’s sleep for a while, just like this ok?” he nuzzled his face against her soft hair, relaxing his arms around her as she cuddled closer to his chest, wrapping one arm around his waist, allowing them to fall asleep wrapped up in one another.

[autumnblogs]

Day 43: Openbound

We’ll principally be doing Act 6 Intermission 3 today, so expect lots of pictures in this one!

Believe it or not, I initially didn’t like Openbound very much; I felt like it kind of dragged on my first readthrough, and generally had a pretty hard time getting myself to care about the Dancestors. They’re a pretty unsympathetic bunch.

Then again, lots of Homestuck characters are pretty unsympathetic! I’ve been really feeling that in the second half, as retrospect allows me to view a lot of secondary characters through the lens that we’re not intended to get attached to them.

That said, Openbound is actually pretty key to helping us understand the second half of the comic, I think, and makes explicit a lot of the themes that it explores, and how it builds upon the first half.

I think that the theme of Openbound as a self-contained work within Homestuck that we can use as a tool to decode Homestuck can be concisely stated like this; “Nostalgia and a desire for unity with the past causes toxic stagnation.”

So, aside from the introduction that we’ve already gotten to Meenah through the short conversation she had with the other kids, this is our first real opportunity to get to know her! Boy is she obsessed with money.

Money, like Cake, is a symbol that is associated with the Aspect of Life. As an aspect principally associated with Raw Power - the power to do what you want, unfettered by the stringent restrictions that are associated with Doom - it’s natural that Life would be associated with money.

The origin of money in history is pretty nebulous; it precedes the invention of writing, so any theory concerning its invention is ultimately conjecture. What I think is interesting about money is that the move toward a monetary economy in history mostly (but not always) happens as a result of the fact that it is way more efficient to collect taxes; the state mints standard coins, only accepts taxes in the form of standard coins, and propagates them into the economy by buying goods and services from the market.

It’s a tool of government, and even though Meenah may abrogate her inheritance, the Princess can’t escape her birthright. Money offers control, security... and power. What makes all of this extra interesting is that money is effectively worthless in the afterlife. Here, there’s actually nothing for her to really buy or spend it on; anyone can dream up whatever they want with ease.

It’s a nice bit of callback humor that Meenah has the same reaction to discovering the Thorns of Oglogoth that Rose does, but unlike Rose, Meenah actually does destroy them on the spot.

For being so headstrong and dangerous, there are ways in which Meenah is really pretty surprisingly sensible.

Lord English can destroy ghosts - this has always been a pretty disturbing thought for me. I may have said something to this effect before, but if I haven’t I’m a free-thinking Theist - raised in the Church, and largely independent in terms of beliefs, but I’m still pretty convinced that there is some kind of life after death. It doesn’t bother me nearly as much in works that have final death as a general presupposition, but it always bothers me when some kind of eternal life after death exists in a setting, and can be arbitrarily denied by evil beings with some power or another, like how some Demons and Liches can destroy or devour a soul in Dungeons and Dragons.

In Homestuck though, it fits with the themes established by the ways in which everyone God Tiers - spiritual power can be pretty arbitrary, and generally signifies very little about the moral worth of the one who has it; it does not intrinsically elevate the one who has it. It fits with its general criticism of power and the powerful, whether that’s the Mayor’s hatred of Kings, or the associating of corporatism with the worst parts of Jane’s characterization and Crockercorp in general.

Lord English has the power to destroy ghosts and end the lives of immortals not because he has attained to any kind of heightened spiritual awareness. He’s just some douchebag who through cosmic serendipity was in the right place at the right time to become basically all-powerful.

I adore Meenah’s spark. Who gives a fuck if Lord English is invincible? She knows exactly what she’s going to do when she gets her hands on him, and she’s got a plan from the outset. I think it’s also interesting the way that even though Meenah is absolutely taken by the spectacle of power, it isn’t sufficient to make her want to join up with English. Only soft power works on Meenah Peixes; emotional intimacy, friendship... keeping her entertained. All of these are the actual way to moderate her violent and dangerous personality.

While neither Rose nor Meenah is a parallel character to either Gendo or Rei from Neon Genesis Evangelion (I think, actually, that Dirk is the character who most strongly parallels both of them), this bit reminds me of the way that Ritsuko describes both of them;

Rose says of herself and Meenah, “You’re not very good at this, are you? ... talking to people.”

Ritsuko says of Gendo and Rei, “They’re not very adept (at)... living, I suppose.”

The same can really be said of a lot of characters in Homestuck, particularly the ones who primarily find their identity in some form of power-seeking. Whether it’s Rose, or Dirk, or Meenah, or even someone as innocuous as Jake, none of them is particularly adept at living.

Rose is pretty conciliatory with Meenah; given her attraction to danger and darkness, it’s probably not surprising that she makes such an obvious pass at Meenah in spite of the fact that she probably knows what their relationship was in another life.

Further evidence that Rose is the horniest Homestuck character.

“you know how it is with ancestors

they just kind of hold this inexplicable power over you”

Dave continues to progress down the path of not giving a shit, as did Sollux before him.

He’s not quite to the level of reluctance that he eventually adopts, of choosing to just not engage with English at all.

Gods are, to some extent, aware of the various narrative forces that govern their existence.

About the only thing this piece of nasty trash has in common with Karkat is the extent to which they both blabber, and he helps create contrast with the other, somewhat more likable dancestors. Kankri is pretty much openly contemptible, and really in the worst way. I’m almost inclined to call him a concern troll because of the extent to which his verbal essays exist purely to make him feel better about himself. Any time it comes time for him to listen to people who historically actually suffered from the systems they were involved in, Kankri shows his true colors, slut-shaming and misogynistic.

Unsurprisingly, The Other Thief is also the vector for English’s ideology in her session, “turning us against each other to make us stronger.” While Kurloz may be a worshipper of English, and Damara may have thrown in her lot with the demon because of her nihilistic despair, Meenah (rather like Dirk!) is clearly driven toward a life of violence, and restless action for its own sake.

Now we’re starting to get some insight into Feferi’s style of rulership, which in turn, probably gives us some insight into Jane. For Feferi, leadership means taking power away from the people you’re leading if it seems like they have the potential to hurt themselves (or to be a drain on society if left to their own devices). It represents a violation of agency, perhaps not so severe as the kind that Vriska perpetrates usually.

Feferi and Jane are the sort of people, I think, who want to create a perfect world - but it’s important to them that they’re the one who’s creating that world, and less important that the world is perfect for anyone in particular. Just perfect.

https://homestuck.com/story/5288

John’s whole self-conception, and especially his conception of himself as a man, and someone who might be growing up to take on the same roles as his Father, is tied up in the icons of dadliness and masculinity in the movies that he likes.

So we should expect that his disillusionment with his past will change the way that he thinks about his future, and what he’s going to do with it. It’s a shame that this line of questioning never goes anywhere in Homestuck proper, but I’ll use it as evidence in the “John/June Egbert is trans” folder. Reminds me of how my decisive lack of affinity for the Boy Scouts serves as a nice little retrospective bit of evidence in my own trans narrative.

Based on the number of trans Eagle Scouts I know, I feel like there’s a certain extent to which it be like, a fast-track to figuring that out about yourself, like, you tried all the boy stuff and just decided, nope! Not for me.

https://homestuck.com/story/5290

Man, especially if we continue to read this section of Homestuck as conflating the characters and the audience, this whole section reads as John not just having a meltdown about Con Air, but also generally having a meltdown about his own story so far - everything he’s done in Sburb, etc. It just all feels lame and shitty in retrospect, when it was something that was kind of exciting at the time, at least up until the point where his loved ones all dropped dead there at the end.

It turns out that there was nothing particularly edifying about John’s suffering.

https://homestuck.com/story/5300

Teens can be such monsters. It’s the anniversary of Bro’s Death too. Davesprite is probably as broken up about that as John is about Dad, but it’s hard for boys/men to talk about that kind of thing with each other.

Cronus is even more of an incel than Eridan. He may be the most singularly contemptible character in Paradox Space. Do I hate anyone more than Cronus? No, I think I do not.

I won’t have a lot to say about the middle leg of Openbound; it’s relatively empty of substance, and not much that happens in it is ever relevant again compared to the first and second legs.

I like to think that this leg of the journey is, more than anything, a chance to ruminate on some joke characters who were already parodies; parodies of parodies, a joke made at the expense of an existing joke. The kind of thing Dirk Strider would write, basically.

Hey check it out, the Year of Our Lord 2012, and Andrew was starting to show some mild sensitivity in his choice of words. Just mild enough to have the lowest character in the story show a tiny bit of sensitivity himself.

This leg of the adventure does give us some more insight into Meenah’s character. Just like Vriska, she’s all about being a hardass super-murder, until she starts causing problems for the people she actually cares about.

Being Evil Sucks.

This is a really weird sentiment for Karkat to have in light of like, everything else about the latter half of the comic. I mean, he hasn’t exactly had the epiphany yet that the ideas that he has about being a leader are kind of awful and shitty, so it’s possible that he’s talking the Condesce up to avoid thinking about that. IDK.

He also immediately claims he’ll leave behind the meteor to go and join Meenah’s army, so maybe Karkat is just in a pretty low place in general? That tracks.

Karkat’s little conversation with Terezi explains at the two thirds mark of Openbound exactly what this whole thing is about.

Almost the entire second half of the comic is about examining the character’s guardians, and their relationships with them. The Guardians - Grandpa and Bro especially - are hyped up to be these outrageous badasses, both in-and-out of universe, and their ambivalent relationship with their kids creates this ambiguity throughout the comic about whether the kids are worthy, whether they’re living up to their parents’ legacy - and it’s the kind of thing that plagues them throughout.

But the thing is, Ancestors can be lame, or even terrible. They’re not really anything to aspire to, and the image of success that they project onto the world is one of learned confidence, and usually that only if they’ve really managed to make it.

Even the best parents are flawed, and instead of trying to measure up to them, growing up healthy usually means learning what those flaws are, and committing not to reproduce them.

Parents don’t suck; they can be awesome, and generally speaking, for a long part of our life, they’re all we’ve got. It’s hard not to love them. But we shouldn’t turn them into idols.

(On another note, it’s one hundred percent fitting for Terezi’s Ancestor to be an outrageous coolgirl. Terezi is perpetually anxious about being cool enough, the sort of person who is breathlessly fun to be around, who commands the attention of everyone around her, and she’s surrounded by them wherever she goes.)

https://homestuck.com/story/5340

John’s distress leads him to dream about his dead Dad, and boy is he angry. He spends a lot of the second half of the comic seething in rage directed at whomever is responsible for all the suffering he and his friends endure, dishing out beatdowns toward those responsible, but I’ve never gotten the impression that these little outbursts of his are particularly rewarding for him.

https://homestuck.com/story/5358

That was quite a blow. He knocked out like a tenth of Jack’s health bar.

https://homestuck.com/story/5387

Depending on where you’re standing some really totally different things can matter to different people. From Vriska’s point of view, the things that happened back when she was alive totally don’t matter at all anymore - only the matter of Cosmic importance that is fighting Lord English.

But the stuff that matters to the people she left behind, and the suffering she’s responsible for - especially for putting Terezi in a position where she had to slay her - all of that still matters very much to the people who are alive, which is what makes her self-conception as someone who is on the side of the angels now really... not sit well.

She clearly hasn’t changed all that much. She just thinks, as usual, that now that things are even, now that the score is settled, things can go back to the way they were before.

https://homestuck.com/story/5388

Tavros and Vriska are really bad for each other in general. Like, it’s not good for her to be around someone as pliable as Tavros is, and it’s plain to everybody that it’s not good for him to be around her either; whenever he’s around her, he apes her bogus inflated self-esteem in all the worst ways.

https://homestuck.com/story/5397

Tavros’ explanation of what Vriska does suggests that storytelling has become kind of a ritual for her - a means by which she is attempting to connect with her Ancestor, by performing the same actions she is, miming her - still the same old Vriska.

That’ll be all for now. Cam signing off for now - join me for the thrilling conclusion to Openbound tomorrow, Same Cam Time, Same Cam Channel.

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter Five: THE INFINITY WARDROBE

Three dances.

He could do this.

He hated that he  had  to do this, but he could. The taste of alcohol on his tongue, its burn at the back of his throat... they were tempting, but he knew better than to rely on them. He never tasted any that he hadn't seen served himself, and in a function such as this one, it meant he had only ever carried a single glass throughout.

His lips pinched together, remember the last time he'd forgotten to keep a close eye on his drinks.

A cold grip closed over his guts. Nope. He shouldn't go there. Not the right time. Every notable noble in the kingdom was watching his every move.

Warriors had busied himself teaching his brothers how to best deal with the nobility at his Queen's gala for the past two days. He could say he was proud of Hyrule's and Wind's progress in particular. Neither had had much manners or interest in them before and not one lady had fainted from their crude or frank behaviors. He also had to admire Four's control in accepting the few pinches on the cheeks he got for being so fun-sized.

  I'll give him a bigger part in our next plans of attack. That's a ton of resentment to vent. Whatever monster we face next will be very dead.

“And I was just telling our dear Hero Link here how-” Lady Farosi bragged to Lord this and Lady that and Warriors carefully agreed at all the right places.

He used to like these things. Used to be proud of his role.

'It's you! All this time, the deaths, the battles, it was all because  she  wanted  you !'

Three dances. He had given the first one to Zelda, of course. No one could ever protest that choice of partner. The Queen and her knight. The most important figures in the War of Eras. A splendid couple, though he could not tell if Zelda felt any attraction towards him, the way he...

Warriors shook his head, made an excuse and stauntered to the buffet table, under which he thought he'd seen Legend hide. Two more dances. Then I'm free to leave. Hide in the stables. Play a game with the guards or maybe pay back Twilight for our last match.

He offered Sky a smile when his brother offered him a plate with some meat skewers and a piece of cheese. His stomach protested the very idea of food at the moment, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness. He forced himself to nibble on some of the cheese. It gave him an excuse not to talk to Lady Lanayrou. To dodge her attempt at linking their arms.

  Second dance will be soon.

He scanned the crowd for a proper candidate that wouldn't be draping themselves all over him.

General Impa met his gaze over the crowd of mingling nobles, and his desperation must have shown on his face for she scowled something fierce at him. Right. Sheika. Security detail. Not the kind of person that should be on the dance floor.

With a sigh, Warriors resigned himself to letting whichever lady found him first have first right at a dance with him. Hopefully they'd listened if he said-

“Hey,” said a slightly  off  woman's voice, “do you think you could show me the steps?”

Warriors froze.

A slim, pale Hylian in a turquoise gerudo outfit stared patiently at him. Scars peeked out from under a tasteful veil that hid their chin, mouth and nose, leaving only startling blue eyes. He knew both the veil and the eyes.

Oh.

His gaze flickered down to the extensive network of spider web scars on the sides of the Hylian's torso. The outfit left little to the imagination. It was on full display.

For a second, he struggled to breath, realizing the extent of his brother's action. Warriors needed to apologize so damn much!

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he hurried to blink them away, taking the offer with as much gratitude as he could show his brother. Together, they reached the dance floor, and Warriors barely noticed the few times his feet were stepped on. At this point, Wild could stab him and he'd be thankful. Just swaying to the rhythm of the music and making jokes at the expense of the obnoxious people around them was one of the best dances he ever went through.

And then, someone reminded him just where he was.

“Who's this pasty ruin?” Lady Dynral loudly whispered behind her hand fan.

Twilight, who had just previously been attempting to convince a fair maiden that he was mute, tragically incapable of dancing and awaited in a backwater hut where he'd forgotten to turn off the stove, froze.

(It was no secret that Twilight couldn't  quite pull off the neutral look of disappointment patented by the old man. It was a decent attempt, but they all had earned the original too often for the off-brand version to work.)

(What he  could  however pull off was the deadly stillness of a predator stalking a prey that had been just too loud. Eyes that promised death. Eventually.)

The chill alone made hair rise on the back of Warriors' neck and he was barely in the general vicinity of the lady. Now that was some killer instinct. The blatant bloodlust made his chest pang with nostalgia.

Goddesses he'd take another war over this...

However, seeing Lady Dynral's face drain of blood like this filled him with a singular vindictive happiness.

“Never seen Lady Dynral flee a function this fast before,” Warriors chuckled, twirling Wild at the tip of his arm for another round. “Our farmer's got your honor' back, huh?”

The veil hid Wild's face, but not the curious look in his eyes, nor the faint tilt of his head. “He cares about you too,” he said, softly. “We all do, Warriors.”

Warriors couldn't speak with such a soft feeling warming his chest. Wild's fingers squeezed his hands, then let him go. The others all gave him subtle thumbs up throughout the crowd, encouraging him to stay strong in the face of this battle. Dozens of skirmishes flashed behind his eyes, memories where he stood back to back with them, brothers-in-arms before the forces of evil.

(Sky found him another plate, which he did eat this time. Twilight patted him in the back strong enough to make him stumble into a lord, and wasn't that a shame. 'Ah, my mightily sorries, your lordness!' and Hylia alone knew how he hadn't burst out laughing at that one. Wind subtly hinted at the possibility of skedaddling mid dance if things were needed. 'I can fake illness like you wouldn't believe, War'.')

Third dance.  And he had to admit, it looked like it wouldn't be so bad. Wild's assurance and the others' support made it feel smaller than before. He only needed to dance one more time, and he had had fun at a function for once...

Warriors almost felt serene when the bards on stage began plucking at their instruments' strings.

“Announcing... ” one of the guards near the door suddenly shouted, grinding the activities to a halt, “Princess Lore-al of Koholint!”

“What the f-?!” Wind's attempted swearing mercifully was stopped short by Sky's hand covering his mouth. No one even looked their way.

But Warriors deeply understood the sentiment.

The dress was impressive. Cut from the finest fabric, maybe enchanted silk, white with golden accents, and a gentle pink layer in the style of old royalty. Twenty or so rings, gold, silver and platinum, adorned the newcomers' fingers. Some inserted with gemstones, other carved with hylian runes.

Warriors really wanted to know where he'd gotten the tiara. He could have sworn...

Unlike Wild, Legend hadn't bothered with hiding his face. Or transforming it with make-up. He seemingly relied entirely on his natural twinkitude. And the lack of his ever present scowl that softened his looks considerably.

Amazingly, the haughty, confident expression on Legend's face wouldn't have been out of place amongst royalty. His absolute lack of shame as the rest of the ballroom stared did more for his credibility than an actual magic spell would have.

Warriors felt he ought to laugh, but he was too shell-shocked to do so.

Legend strutted, on high heels, right up to him, finally deigning to meet his eyes as if they were meeting for the first time.

“May I have the honor of this dance, Brave Hero?” Legend offered his hand, which Warriors contemplated like he would the head of a particularly vicious and hungry dodongo.

A long series of excuses came to mind, ranging from needing to go iron his wolf and thinking he heard Ganon call his name somewhere. Wild was one thing.  Legend though? The veteran gambling addict would extract so many favors out of this...

Of course, Legend had to raise an eyebrow like he was challenging him to a game of cuccos and Warriors' entire being tossed caution to the wind in a resounding, mental  fuck it .

With all the assurance of a chosen hero of Courage, he snatched a tulip from some of the nearby decoration, bit down on the stem and winked. “The honor shall be mine, Princess Lore-al.”

The musicians noticeable hesitated before starting to play again, and Warriors would have bet that his Queen had subtly instructed them to go on as normal.

The lascivious beat of a tango resonated around them. Legend's smirk widened, his eyelashes batting. “A red rupee you can't lift me one-handed over your head, Brave Hero.”

Despite himself, Warriors grinned. “You're on, Princess.”

 BONUS

“So... where was the old man tonight?” Wind asked as they made their way back to their suite in the guest wing of the castle. “Couldn't find him.”

Hyrule frowned. “Wait, seriously? You didn't notice him? He was really obvious.”

Wind exchanged a glance with Sky and both came to the same conclusion. “What?”

“He was standing next to some of the really snobbish nobles all night. Just looming. Like when he's really pissed at our collective stupidity. They kept glancing around like they were wondering.”

The Links exchanged glances, mulling their recollections of the evening and arrived to a collective conclusion.

“Bullshit.”

Hyrule gave them an uncertain look.

“Was it the mask?” he mumbled, suddenly unsure. “You guys noticed the freaky grayish purple mask, at least? Like, it hid his entire face, but that was still clearly him, body type and stance and all.”

They turned toward Twilight, who shrugged. “Magic?”

They agreed, Hyrule especially. “Magic.”

A few steps later, Wind broke the silence again.

“... So the old man spent the evening just putting the fear of evil spirits in the nobility?”

Warriors snickered.

“Sounds like him, alright,” Twilight drawled.

 DOUBLE BONUS

“You know...” Sky mused, his hands stilling over the piece of wood he was carving. “Maybe I should just ask Zelda to make it Hylian law to never hold balls.”

Four frowned and looked at Time. “Wouldn't that unraveled, you know, the fabric of time and space?”

Time shrugged, looking quite relaxed sitting by an old tree.

“Oh, right,” Sky mumbled, now hesitant.

Warriors fell on his knees. “I'd give you my firstborn, Sky! Please!”

Legend huffed. “Well, now he's gonna have to make those officials.”

Four put a hand on his forehead. “Does  that  count as a paradox? How many of those have we caused actually?”

“I meant Sky being straddled with Warriors' spawn, but sure. Tons of 'em.”

“HEY!”

[huntergatherercreator]

The Takedown | Part Six

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood and weapons

Notes: Took a little break after the last part as I’m working two jobs again, but now that I’m settled I can go back to a part a week from now on. 

If you enjoy this please let me know, all feedback is appreciated! :)

Catch up here: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Part 6 - 1,902 Words

As soon as his men cleared out I dropped back into the seat, the pain from my arm hitting me along with the first twinges of a headache. None of the other patrons had batted an eyelid at my injury, and even now, after clearly being able to work out the situation, remained sitting at their respective seats finishing their drinks unhurriedly. The fact that this must happen so regularly for them to have a calm attitude about murder and no internal compulsion to aid the police chilled me. There was a lot more going on here than we could have imagined.

Zoey brushed past with a muttered instruction to meet her in the back. I watched her pick her way over to the door that led to the back hall, head deliberately held high as if she wasn’t affected by any of this either.

I placed the bottle of vodka back behind the bar and for once I wasn’t able to solidly hold back the small spark of temptation. The urge to take a sip, just enough to taste it on my lips slithered through my barrier. A deep breath and I managed to push it away.

I bundled my used napkins into the bin at the end. I hoped that when my blood was found outside the captain wouldn’t press for a warrant to get in, it’d only worry him finding these in the trash. If he was quick enough that is. I knew logically the place would be wiped down long before they managed to get the DNA results back.

Grabbing my wind breaker I followed Zoey’s path into the narrow back hall. The sconces were dim and suffused with pink light giving everything a rosy appearance. Despite what the adjoining rooms were used for the only sound was the same jazz music filtered into the bar. I passed several with ties attached to the handles before reaching the end door labelled ‘Private’.

When I entered Zoey was pacing back and forth around the room. It took me a long second to recognise it as an office, especially as my eyes adjusted to the harsh strip lighting. The room was surprisingly bare. A lone desk with a table lamp and computer gathering a fine layer of dust was the main item. The soft leather of the chair perched behind it was still fresh and crisp as if no-one had sat in it yet. I hadn’t been expecting incriminating documents to be lying about, but there was nothing. No filing cabinet, no calendar with stock delivery dates, not so much as a rogue business card. It made sense now why we’d never been able to pin anything on them. I would place a bet that the hard drive on the computer was completely clean too.

I watched the furrow between her eyes deepen before she came to a stop before me, arms tightly crossing.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she barked.

I sagged back against the wall as a sigh bubbled up. “I didn’t have a choice. If I let him get killed then it’d be case closed.”

Lips tightening she threw me a spearing look as she stalked closer, “That’s not what I mean and you know it. Why were you antagonising him? You’re supposed to be ‘undercover’ which means laying low.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes to the critical look boring into me. I could feel my headache worsening.

“Laying low won’t work. I don’t have the time to be working through the ranks, it could take years now that I know he’s set out strict guidelines for all his men.”

“That doesn’t mean you go from zero to sixty and start riling him up. He’s dangerous.”

Annoyance flaring I straightened up, forcing her to back off. “You think I don’t know that? The whole reason I signed up for this is because he’s dangerous. We can do as much police work as we want but we’ll never take him down. If I get close to him like this I can level the field with the information I gain.”

“You can justify it as doing your part for the city all you want, but what I saw back there wasn’t you, you enjoyed challenging him.”

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. Had it been that obvious? If she’d picked up on it had he too?

“Just as I thought,” she shook her head but her features softened. I angled my face away, stepping around her to stand at the desk as heat flushed my cheeks.

“Being undercover isn’t for everyone. It’s mentally and physically stressful. No-one would blame you if you had to back out.” I refused to turn. The sympathy of her tone cut through me.

“There is nothing wrong with me. I can handle this case just fine.” I retorted through gritted teeth as my hackles rose. I repeated the words internally to myself. I was fine. This case wasn’t getting to me.

“I’m sure you can, but at what cost?” I heard her curse under her breath as she shuffled around me to get within my line of sight again. “I can’t let you endanger my case anymore.” She’d already signalled this when Melissa had been pulled up but it cut more now knowing she was making the decision because she couldn’t trust my judgement.

“I think it’s best I let you out the back exit. A team will be here soon.”

The exit she’d referred to was one used solely during the prohibition. It came out a street over in a back alley, the  hatch that let me up to street level was hidden by a prop dumpster light enough to be pushed out of the way even with my injured arm.

Hearing the sirens of a cruiser I circled around the streets for a while, unsure of where I was really going until I saw the steps for the Tribeca Bridge. It was still dark, not long past one now and I knew it was a risk to be out in the open especially after the events of the night but still I let my feet guide me around to The Battery and over to a stretch of the railing. The water was inky black, reflecting the lights of the city behind me but giving nothing away about its depth as it lapped at the bay. A cool breeze rippled off it stilling the sweat on my skin. Hands gripping onto the cold metal of the rails I took several deep breaths to try push away the lingering nausea floating in my stomach and fuzziness in my head.

I couldn’t help but replay Zoey’s words but I still refused to acknowledge what she’d been saying. I may not have full control over the situation, I never expected to in a case this versatile, but I knew what I was doing. I was a detective, it was my job. For her to second guess my instincts and my training rankled me. I was and would work this case to the best of my ability and if I ever felt I was in too deep then I’d take proper precautions.

Holland had added another to his death tally tonight, albeit indirectly, and I had no doubt the bodies would keep piling up, getting younger and younger as each side tried to recoup their loses by recruiting whoever they could to keep their ‘businesses’ going. I had to get to the heart of his operation before that became a reality.

I had gained such a valuable negotiating tool in saving his life, now I needed to take time to work out what I could exchange it for.

****

Despite closing the curtains the late morning sun had snuck in around the edges and lit the room enough to wake me. Checking my watch on the small end table it showed I’d been asleep for six hours. My body ached as I stretched out on the thin sheets, protesting as I jerked my arm too fast. A normal day and six hours would have been heavenly, now it barely took the edge off.

Reluctantly getting out of bed I stripped it down, my bandages having soaked through to leave large spatters on the sheets. I’d eventually managed to take a proper look at it after a scalding hot shower when I’d got home. It had passed clean through the outer edge of my arm, missing anything critical but carving out a large chunk of tissue between the entrance and exit wounds. They were small wounds so I’d opted against sewing them shut, simply cleaning it out with more medicinal alcohol from my first aid kit and bandaging them up with gauze pads and wrap and taking a few pain meds to take the worst of the pain away.

I bundled the sheets into the laundry basket along with my clothes from the day before, already pre-soaked and scrubbed to get the majority of the blood out. They were the only things in the basket, not enough for a full load but it made me itch thinking they still had remnants of the night before lingering on the fabric, as if washing them would make the events disappear a little.

As I thought about leaving them until after breakfast the itch grew until I finally threw on a pair of joggers and hoodie on over my nightwear and shoved the items into a bag. I trudged down to the basement, threw them on a high wash and marked the machine with my basket.

I hadn’t passed anyone on the way down. From what I could tell most of the tenants in the building worked all day or just never left their apartments so we never crossed paths. Which was fine with me, it meant one less person to keep up the pretence with. However now, as I reached my landing, there was a man wandering along the hall. I made to move out of the stairwell behind him until I noticed the hesitant way he was walking.

Shifting back into the doorway I watched him pause at a door for a second before moving on. It wasn’t until I caught the slight tilt to his head beneath his hood that I realised he was listening at each apartment. Unease creeping in I took time to properly assess him. Dressed in a perfectly sized hoodie and crisp jeans warning signs flared. Despite the attempt to appear casual this was someone who had spent more than the usual couple of dollars on his outfit. It was a disguise, and a bad one at that for this neighbourhood. They reached the end of the hall, stopping again outside my apartment on the right before turning to head back with a visible shake of their head. It was then I caught a glimpse of their face. Frustration swelled backed by an edge of anger that he’d turned up at my home, that he’d somehow been able to track me, I almost revealed myself but now that I could see his front I froze. His hands were shoved into the front pockets, one taking up more space than the other meaning he was holding something. I didn’t need a police badge to know that the additional bulge in his pocket was a weapon.

------

Taglist: @spideylovin @lukesbabylon @panicattheeverywherekid @keep-bears-wild

Part Seven up now!

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Humor.”

Good morning everyone! Decided to write something nice and short today because I know a lot of you are here for that. I haven’t done it in a while, so I hope you appreciate my return :) 

Scene: Dr Krill (an alien with arguably the most experience dealing with humans) is being interviewed on-record during the intergalactic convention of psycho-bio-medical science.                                      

Q: WHat was the hardest thing for you to get used to the first time you stepped aboard a human ship?

A: To ask that question I would have to tell you about practically everything that happened to me while I was there. Living with humans is hard, and strange if you aren’t human. Everything about them is strange, and more complicated than it needs to be. For the longest time I had trouble keeping up with their communication.

Q: I was told that human communication is relatively simple.

A: Whoever told you that has never met a human, when humans speak they use oth verbal and body language to demonstrate their point, and worse than tha, they intentionally use irony, hyperbole, sarcasm and humor to communicate what they are saying.

Q: What is ... humor.

A: “\Now, as the humans would say sit back and rela because you just opened a massive can of worms.

Q What

A Exactly, human communication doesn’t make sense unless you spend time with them. You practically have to BECOME human to understand anything that’s going on. As for the case of humor, it is very complicated, and I still don’t quite understand it. I have experienced the phenomenon of humor in a way I don’t think is possible for many of my species. I’ve tried to explain it before, but it’s Ike explaining the color blue to a creature who seems primarily in infrared, they just won;t get it.

Q can you try?

A Of course I will. Humor is the appreciation of a specific situation or turn of phrase, but even that is completely inadequate to explain what humor is. It’s a….. primarily social, but not always, experience that is designed to help a group of humans empathizes, connect, or diffuse a situation. It is very important to be able to see the humor when with a group of humans because it will strengthen a social bond between you and them.

Q Can we have some examples.

A Well…. this could potentially be a long list so forgive me if I ramble on.

Humans have these things called jokes, sometimes they are stories and sometimes they are clever word play. The story joke generally begins with something that seems normal or at least plausible but the ... punch line (as the humans call it) is designed to be absurd, exaggerated or unexpected. For example you have three humans stranded on an island, one has dark hair, one has red hair, one has yellow hair. They dark hair human gets tired of this, and tries to swim back to the mainland, halfway across she drowns. Eventually the red hair human gets tired of being on the island and tries to swim as well, but she drowns halfway there. Finally the light hair human decides to try. She gets halfway to her destination, gets tired and swims back.

Q And what makes that funny. Two humans died.

A It’s funny because the last human got halfway there and swam back implying she could have made it all the way to the mainland but was too dumb to do so. Exaggerated lack of intelligence, and an absurd situation.

In the case of word play you can say something like: what do you get when you cross a centipede with a parrot. ONe of those is a creature with many legs, and the other one is a bird capable of mimicking speech. THe answer is a walk-in-talkie, a type of short-wave handheld radio.

Q I don’t get it.

A I wouldn’t expect you to. It requires a very in-depth knowledge of human history and culture. Some other things that can be considered funny to a human include.

Non-human things trying to do human things, and this includes animals exhibiting human behavior. HUmans find it very funny when less intelligent creatures exhibit human behavior. THese can include strange un-animal noises and even an animal trying to do something that normally only humans do

This rule also applies to their own offspring. A small human attempting to do something above their capabilities, like speak or, even, attempt a skill is greatly amusing to humans.

Sometimes the jokes that humans use don’t even involve irony, but are designed the annoy the person they are targeted at. In this case the targeted human might expect the answer to be clever, but instead get something that is either obvious or really stupid. In this case what is funny is not the joke itself, but the reaction to the joke. Sometimes these are called anti jokes and are specifically designed to be funny by way of not being very funny.

Q Can you demonstrate that to us?

A Yes of course.

What is big, red and bad for your teeth.

Q I don’t know, what?

A A brick

Q Well….. yes I suppose.

A You see it's funny because not only is it obvious, but it also implies that someone threw a brick at someone else’s face.

Q Humans consider other people’s pain entertaining?

A OH yes, very much. This gives rise to two types of humor. Watching others get hurt and the dark humor.

Dark human involves saying something gruesome or wildly inappropriate. I am under the impression it is a way to test how socially close a group of people is. Because if you are with an unfamiliar group of people you don’t know how they will react to a potentially offensive or dark joke, and so may not use one. If a human deployed one, they may be gaging the reaction of those around them. I would say that, on average, humans have a lot of very dark thoughts, and the knowledge that other humans also have dark thoughts brings them more socially close. IF you can make a dark joke around a human that implies than you can say other inflammatory things without getting into trouble. As I was saying humans have a lot of dark and sometimes aggressive thoughts, and the ability to vent and share them is very important for mental health, but they need to make sure they find a proper group to confide in.

An example would be: what is the difference between a truckload of bowling balls and a truck load of dead babies….. you cannot unload the bowling balls with a pitchfork

Q: That…… is…. disturbing.

A: It’s a little bit funny

On the other hand, watching other people get hurt is a complicated type of humor.

It may be funny because the other person was doing something stupid, or against the rules, and it is entertaining to see them get what was coming to them. Humans like justice.

Sometimes it is designed as a way for humans to empathize with another being. Seeing someone get hurt wincing and then laughing about it is a way of saying I feel your pain, but I’m glad it’s not me.

Of course there is the humor that involves laughing at someone you genuinely hate who got hurt. IN this case you have always desired to hit that person, but it is not socially acceptable, but watching them get hurt by something else causes a sort of….. release of tension and anger.

Sometimes humans watch just to make themselves feel better that they aren’t in that situation or their life isn’t that bad.

In large groups, this is a way for humans to practice empathy and also socially bond with those round them

Q You said earlier that it was an important tool in defusing situations…. how does that work.

A Well that its a very good question and it comes with, what I think is the most interesting aspect of human humor.

IF you’re with your friends, and one of them runs face first into a pole, you may think it is funny, but it’s only funny if the person isn’t hurt, or a couple days after the incident when the person is fine. In both cases it is a way to demonstrate relief or test to see if the other person is ok. It can even be used to let others know that you're ok.

Human history is filled with some of the greatest and most horrible tragedies imaginable, and for every one of them you will be able to find jokes. Studies have shown that the use of humor is a proper and helpful outlet to the emotions that come with tragedy. You may hear a human say that there were only two options in a situation “It was either laugh or cry.” Both include the release of emotion which can be cathartic.

Assume there is a tense meeting between group of humans Violence is about to break out, but someone makes a joke. The atmosphere is diffused and social bonding occurs allowing the humans to be less hostile towards each other, and probably get something done.

In cases of humans who have experienced past trauma, I find that the healthiest, mentally healthiest, humans have a habit of making fun of the trauma. In many cases it helps them to cope with what happened and serves as a sign to let others know that they are doing ok.

Q And there are other types of humor as well?

A If I were to talk about all of them, we would be here all day. I think the important takeaway from this is that humans use humor  primarily for reasons of social bonding. If a human thinks you are funny they are more likely to like you and more likely to be your friend. Even in human relationships, the funnier you are the more likely you are to find a mate, so to anyone planning to spend time with humans, I would recommend putting a great amount of focus and study into their humorous.

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Ice Cream Boy

(©nctjaemin)

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Jaemin, being the flirtatious brat as he is, doesn't back down when he should, so you decide to teach him a lesson

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Femdom, Sub!Jaemin, Dom!Reader, Cosmetologist!AU, Cosmetologist!Reader, Spanking, Degradation, Semi-public sex, Edging, Food play, Cum play, Profanity, CFNM, Noona kink

A/N: 

Inspired by Jaemin's popular verse in Boom, his clip in Business of My Members, as well as a wet dream. 

Decided to bring back some delicious subby Nana because we all know he’s a brat yearning for a proper discipline, and I can’t spare any brain cells working on something new today because of the midterm tomorrow, wish me luck.

 You’ve had enough.

 After a tiring workday, comprised of repetitive tasks of checking on and fixing make-up plus hairstyles, keeping a forever vigilant eye on every detail, all of them quick-paced to an anxiety-inducing level, you were simply craving for a good rest after all the chaotic hassle. Yet Na Jaemin, as usual, being the little flirty prick he is, kept incessantly bothering you with some questions regarding cosmetics, which you knew too well, were way too basic for an experienced professional performer like him.

 “I’ve said multiple times already, this foundation isn’t suitable for your skin tone, no matter how desirable the color looks, unless you want to go around and look like wearing a ridiculous mask.” You pointed out while resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “I am the professional, I am more sensitive to color tones than you are, so just trust my judgment.” God, can’t he even see the obvious color difference?

 “Oh it doesn’t matter, with noona’s pretty skillful hands, everything would look good on me, right?” He brightly grinned at you, fiddling with the foundation bottle with his fingers leisurely, as if the statement wasn’t absurd enough to you.

 “Boring.” You fake yawned sarcastically, annoyance evident in your tone of voice. “Come up with another better pick-up line next time. Leaving.” You said as you snatched away the bottle from him, proceeding to pack up.

 “Is it because noona’s too pretty and hear these kinds of things too often, that you are so used to them, and therefore mine doesn’t work on you anymore?” 

  “Really, Jaemin.” You sighed, “You are notably clever with words and know exactly how to sweeten things up, and I must say that you’ve got nice wits. But seriously, flirting with literally like every female in the work field? Isn’t that a bit too much?” You tried your best to lighten up your tone.

  “Why is it wrong to straight-up show my affection to other people?” He pouted. Cut that crap. You internally thought expressionlessly, both too tired and annoyed to argue with him anymore. If you are making others suffer, from...umm...sexual...frustration problems, then you are definitely at fault. “But hey noona, I’ve practiced an aegyo thingy for a show, would you like to see it and give me some feedback?” He sheepishly smiled as if your accusation earlier didn’t exist at all.

  “No thank you.”

  “Aww come on don’t be like this, it won't be long I promise!”

  "I would consider it if you promise not to bug me after this."

  "Okay I won't", Jaemin pouted again, but soon cleared his throat and fixed his expressions before he began, "-Did you enjoy Jaemin's three-flavored ice cream? What's your choice of flavor, strawberry, chocolate, cream cheese or-" 

  "'Or me?', so damn predictable." You mocked his tone. 

  "That's actually not included in the script though." He grinned at you, "Now, how did I do?"

  "Cringy as hell, I'm sure your members are not going to like it." You chuckled, "I would much prefer Macadamia nut." You mused under your breath jokingly as you took your case and walked away, leaving him completely behind.

  On your way home, you couldn’t help but ponder on Jaemin’s flirtatious intentions toward you, which have escalated too much recently to an extent that you almost couldn’t handle. You would be untruthful to yourself if you say that Jaemin’s sweet words, along with his gorgeous features do not affect you, but the fact that he is this coquettish to everyone pisses you off, spurring the possessive streak in you. The desire to watch the beautiful creature that held the power to stir up amorous craze among women crumble under your command and punitive touch, had loomed your mind since his unwavering flirting with you began to heat up day by day, and you were afraid that one day, you would snap and let those guilty fantasies cross into real life. So you decided to give him the cold shoulder to keep your sanity.

  The next day at work you were startled by a sudden contact of freezing sensation on your cheek. You jolted as you turned to your side, about to attack the perpetrator.

  "Surprise!" Jaemin beamed with a mini cup of Macadamia nut ice cream in his hand.

  "Oh." you replied expressionlessly with your hands still working to complete the final touches of Jisung's make-up, kind of surprised that Jaemin would take your mindless comment seriously, "We don't have a fridge here, it's definitely going to melt-"

"Just like your heart, noona." Jaemin chuckled with a dark glint in his eyes, as he laid the cup of ice cream beside you and walked away to prepare for his performance.

  After completing all the daytime workload, you were left alone in the dressing room, packing up all your make-up tools and belongings while you hummed a happy tune, celebrating your upcoming free time. Just when choices of what you were going to get for dinner swirled around in your mind as you were about to exit the room, a strong grip got hold of you and pushed you right back in, locking the door behind you and cornering you to the wall.

  "What the-" You tried hard to bite back the harsh words that were about to come out of your mouth, glaring up at the handsome face smirking down at you as if you were his prey.

  "Looks like I surprised you again, noona. I'm here to tell you that a beautiful woman like you shouldn't be walking around alone like this, it's dangerous." Jaemin said with his iconic seductive smile plastered on his face.

  "It's none of your business, Jaemin." You coldly retorted, "Now, leave me alone."

  "Why? Can't a boy express his love and concern for his favorite noona? Especially for someone that has enchanted me since the very first time I laid eyes on?" 

  "Your favorite? That should be one of your favorites, Jaemin." You corrected him, "You are being this flirty to every woman here, so I don't buy anything affectionate you say."

  "I don't care what you think about my attitude toward others. You own a special place in my heart and I won't hesitate to show you." Jaemin continued his attempt to sway you with sweet words.

  "You don't care? But I think it's still necessary for me to say what I think of you." You scoffed, getting tired of his demeanor. "You are only making moves on me because unlike other women, I do not fall for your pretty tricks easily, so you just keep on pestering me with all those lovey-dovey stuff, wanting to see me eventually crumble for you to feed your pathetic ego. And I can assure you that that's not going to happen. I am way more tough and difficult than you think." 

  "Really?" Jaemin's loving smiley gaze immediately turned dark, as he tightened his grip on your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hotly against you. "Why are you being this closed-off to me when we both like each other, hmm?" He whined in his cutesy but also alluring voice, hands sliding up and down to grope your curves ever so sensually. But to your surprise, instead of getting turned on, annoyance fumed inside you as your devilish persona began to prevail.

  So when Jaemin's hands were stroking the sides of your breasts, you abruptly pulled him away from you by his hair. From his yelp of satisfaction and facial expressions, you could tell that he enjoyed being treated roughly like this. "If I am truly your favorite noona, prove it." You sternly ordered, looking straight into his eyes, fingers still in his hair.

  "Anything for you, noona." He winced but still managed a grin.

  "Very well. Remove your bottoms, and give me your belt." You commanded while releasing your grip.  

  "Oh, I would happily strip completely naked for you, noona." He said with a triumphant grin as of a predator that has trapped its prey at its paws, while complying with your order. "I know so well that you would want that cock of mine, why didn't you just admit it in the first place? Things would be a lot easier then."

  You raised your eyebrow in amusement, this boy is still oblivious about what is to come, and you couldn't wait to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. "We'll see about that. Now bend over." You instructed, motioning toward the vanity as you took the belt from him.

  After Jaemin pressed his torso against the wooden surface, you laid the belt beside him, decided to go with your bare hand first. Kneading both of his ass cheeks, you delivered continuous hard smacks right after, earning startled yelps from him as he didn't expect you to be this harsh. "Ah-noona..." He panted as you alternated blows between his left and right cheek mercilessly. "It stings so much...mmf...but it feels so right...so good...ahh..." He dragged his voice, as his gaze met yours, still so smug.

  From how his dick twitched and stiffened with every spank, you knew that he wasn't lying, but by no means was this smiley angel that has a devilish streak in him going to learn his lesson this way. "Well, it's not the discipline you needed anymore if you are enjoying it this much, bad boy." You remarked as you reached for his belt, folding it in half, before landing a sharp slap on him.

  "Argh!" Jaemin cried out loud while grimacing at the painful whiplash, which turned you on even more. You then went on to belt his naughty ass cheeks wickedly, savoring the resounding slaps it made against his skin, as well as his erotic moans and the sight of his gradually reddened ass rippling under your strikes.

  "Look up." You tilted Jaemin's chin, forcing him to make eye contact with his reflection in the mirror while stopping your belt lashes to caress his hot cheeks. "Better get a good look of your pretty little slut face when I punish you, naughty boy." You snickered as you resumed to discipline him.

  "You don't flirt around like an attention whore." You chastised between hits. "You don't think of women as easy creatures that should all mindlessly fall for you." You quickened your pace as you hurled five consecutive blows, causing him to squirm and whimper. "And stop considering yourself a would-be Casanova, you are just a little slut that begs to be reminded of your place, aren't you? And a mere spanking is already enough to make you quiver with so much need to get fucked, right slut?" You sneered as you pressed your soothing palm against his ass, the other hand teasing his hard member. Jaemin moaned as his knees buckled to your punishing but also tantalizing touch.

  "Oh looks like someone can't support himself for his punishment anymore. Let's get you some assistance, shall we?" You chuckled as you grabbed a chair toward him. "Kneel on it. Spread your legs." 

  You pressed his upper body against the vanity after he placed his knees on the chair. "Spread your legs further." You commanded while tapping his inner thighs with the belt, yet Jaemin was hesitant. "Further!" You indignantly ordered, landing a mark on him as he whined out, breath hitching while eventually opening wide, exposing his genitals for you to play with. 

  "Look at you, in such a humiliating position where a bad boy like you should be, and being a complete pathetic whining mess just for me." You taunted as you carried on with your belting, sending shudders of excitement down his spine as he immersed in the pleasurable pain even more, moaning in sync with your relentless spanks, his eyes never leaving the reflection of both of you in the mirror. "Such a loud slut, so fucking easily turned on just by the sight of your upturned ass getting abused. Insatiable, aren't you?" You chortled in satisfaction, your face the epitome of sadistic glee.

  Making things even better, you heard two voices ringing down the hallway, getting nearer to your room with preceding sounds of footsteps. "Chenle and Jisung?" You speculated as you whipped Jaemin again, this time, drawing out a refrained whimper from him. "Why hold back your caterwauls? Wouldn't it be more exciting to let them know? That their usually proud and confident Jaemin hyung is now getting disciplined with his naked butt pushed up like a slutty naughty brat he is?" You wickedly coaxed, making sensual rubs on his now red cheeks, then suddenly dropping down to squeeze his dick, causing him to jolt in surprise with a suppressed grunt. Then swiftly after, you landed a blow on him again, and from his expression, you could tell that it just took him off guard.

  "Please noona. stop punishing me. It's so embarrassing..." Jaemin half-whispered, voice quivering with need and plead, dick twitching at the thought of getting caught by his dongsaengs outside. "Really? But my little slut seems to enjoy it a bit too much..." You sneered as you gave a generous pump and lick to his now throbbing dick, as he replied with a stifled moan. 

  "You'd better keep your volume down then, loud whore." Jaemin shivered as you breathed the sentence right against the back of his cock before you licked a stripe on it. Then you proceeded to work his shaft with your tongue as your open palms slapped and kneaded his ass cheeks, going down to cup and caress his balls from time to time. Jaemin was blown away by the sensation of aphrodisiac bliss mingled with the burning sting on his erogenous zones, yet all he could do was to bite hard on his lip to prevent lewd moans from slipping out because Chenle's and Jisung's voices were still ringing outside.

  After stimulating him for a while, you wrapped your lips around his tip, taking a small portion of his shaft in your mouth for seconds, before backing out, and then repeating the same teasing process over again. You also intensified the speed of your punishing palms on his ass, making Jaemin unable to hold still. "Fuck!" Jaemin hissed as a string of clear liquid dripped from his slit, indicating his absolute arousal.

  "Hmm looks like someone loves getting punished…" You chuckled as you grabbed his stiff member, tugging it backward, and gently rapidly slapped it. "Ahh...p-please...give me more…" Jaemin pleaded throatily, trembling with desires. "You want more, hmm? Such a greedy little slut." You smirked, also noticing the chattering voices outside were fading. "But slutty himbos like you don't deserve to be pleasured." You said as you picked up the belt, and started thrashing his behind harshly again.

  "P-please noona, I'll be good...just stop punishing me please..." Jaemin begged, at the brink of sobbing. "You want me to stop, huh? Now apologize for being a flirty little brat." You chided, still not planning to stop your strikes. 

  "I-I'm sorry..." 

  "Sorry for what? Be specific!"

  "I'm sorry for being a brat! Ah-"

  "Are you going to stop your flirty ways?"

  "Yes!"

  "Yes what? And shouldn't you be apologizing for this wrongdoing as well?"

  "Yes, noona...I-I won't be flirting around ever again I promise! I'm truly sorry!"

  "Good. From now on, are you gonna be a good slut only for me?"

  "Yes, noona. I'll be good for you, and I am all yours..."

  "Much better." You cooed, finally putting down your belt, delighted at how remorseful and fucked out he was as you soothed his burning cheeks.

  "You can get down now, sweetie boy." You breathed in his ear, nibbling his earlobe gently as you guided him down the chair, hands also working to strip away the rest of his clothing. After that, you adjusted the position of the chair, sitting him down slowly, trying to minimize the stinging sensation on his ass. Your hands then roamed his well-toned torso as your lips connected with his, all passionate and sensual, but only to bind his wrists behind the chair with his belt afterward while he's too immersed in the kiss.

  "W-what are you doing to me?" Jaemin inquired, startled, yet still dazed by your unprecedented sweetness just a moment ago. "We're still not done yet, Nana. And I will make it unforgettable that you should never mess with noona's feelings." You replied with a sly smirk, as you crouched down to slide your fist up and down on his already hardened cock, at a very slow speed.

  "Ahh-noona. Haven't you already spent too much time teasing me?" He furrowed his brows at the slow-burn pleasure, impatiently shifting in his chair.

  "Do you think you have the right to tell me what to do, stupid slut?" You glared as you slapped his dick. "I think I should remind you properly that who's in charge. You are mine and you should never forget that." You gave another slap to his twitching cock, before turning to your bag to retrieve something.

  You approached Jaemin again, his eyes wide at the cup of ice cream in your hand. "Maybe you were already planning this scenario in your mind when you gave me this, what a shameless brat you are." You mused while removing the lid. "An ill-mannered but delicious little boy toy like you should be ravished with another delicacy." You uttered as you scooped and poured the half-melted liquid first on his right nipple, watching him tense up and tremble against the cold fluid trickling down his sensitive areas. Then you did the same with the left side of his body, reveling in the sight of him covered in trails of the milky substance.

  "If we were doing this back in my room, I would have used my squirting dildo to fuck you senseless, then cum all over you, marking you as mine because you are the pretty fucktoy only for me to play with. But now your ice cream gave me better, sweeter ideas..." You chuckled as you set the cup aside, before pressing your lips on where Jaemin's neck was covered with ice cream, sucking and licking it off his skin, focusing on the spots where you elicit the most reaction. Later on, you moved down to his pectorals, flicking your tongue around his sensitive nipples as he squirmed while you took in the syrupy ice cream as well as his scent, fingers making feathery touches on the upper portion of his member.

  You took your time working your mouth gently down his torso until you reached the pelvic region. Pouring more of that lacteous liquid on the area, you pecked the soft delicate flesh before escalating into more aggressive nibbling and intense suction, nuzzling around while skipping the part where he needed you the most, causing him to whine and beg because the overly light titillation on his penile head certainly wasn't enough.

  "Why should I put my mouth on your slutty dick when you aren't a good boy?" You mocked as you swirled your tongue around his lower abdomen. 

  "P-please I'll be a g-good boy just for you. I need it so bad..." Jaemin pleaded between jagged breaths, bucking his hips up to get more contact. 

  "Then in the end, whose heart is the one that is melting like ice cream now?" You grinned, too delighted to use his word and famous verse against him. 

  "It's mine...my heart is a melting drooling puddle just for you...please have mercy on me...ahh..."

  Satisfied with what you heard, you gave his desperate dick a long-awaited nice stroke before coating it with the last bits of ice cream in the cup, then taking a long lick from the base to the tip.

  "My baby boy is the best-tasting popsicle in the world..." You complimented between engulfments while looking straight into Jaemin's lust-filled eyes as he hummed in response. You sucked and toyed with his erection, clearing the sweet white substance from him as if peeling off the wrappers to reveal your much-anticipated present. After the last drop was removed, your lips and tongue still stimulated his tip while your hand came up to pump his base, occasionally trailing down to fondle his balls or even caress his perineum. Gradually you began to pick up your speed, earning delicious moans from him, his whole body trembling at the pleasure you were giving him.

   Just when you noticed how his breathing was reduced to an intense hitching, you stopped servicing him abruptly, making him whine with loss. "Please noona, don't torture me anymore..."

  "Why should I listen to you when you look so pretty getting ruined?" You smiled devilishly while tracing your fingers on his inner thigh.

  "P-please I'll do anything! Just please let me cum..." Tears were gathering in Jaemin's eyes, as his voice faltered.

  "So fucking desperate. Then you will be my obedient fucktoy for me to do whatever I please, right?"

  "Mmm more than happy to." He responded with a ditzy smile as you proceeded to lightly stroke him again. "I only belong to noona and forever will be yours. So please use me hard like the toy I am and make your filthy slut cum."

  "Fuck, such a good boy." You were completely aroused by the impressive capability of Jaemin to come up with desirable responses and how deep he was in his subspace. You jerked him off fervently for a few pumps, then stopped to admire his pulsating cock as well as his frenzied moans and teary gaze, feeling libidinous bliss pooling up in your heat.     

  Resuming to work him up, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft while giving light squeezes and twists to it with your hands, interspersed with kitten licks and twirling tongue, and not ignoring his balls and perineum. You switched between different types of sensations to stimulate him more, noticing his climax building up once again. While he was at the verge, you stood up with your hand still riling him up, fingers of the other hand tugging his hair.

  "You will be a good horny slut only for me, right?" You spoke seductively into his ear, nibbling his earlobe.

  "Yeah, I'll be good and slutty only for you as you please noona…" Jaemin confirmed as his voice trailed off with lust.

  "Then your flirty nature will only display to me exclusively, right cutie prince?" You inquired between planting neck kisses while pinching the soft flesh with your lips.

  "Ahh of course...you are too good to me...I won't make moves on anyone else because no one other than you can make me feel this good…"

  "Such a silver-tongued angel." You praised. "Now cum for me…" You cooed as you pressed your lips against his while intensifying the speed of your pumping hand on his erection, your rough long kisses which moderately smothered his breathing pushing him over the edge even more. A few moments after you invaded his mouth with your tongue to intertwine with his, Jaemin came, his profuse spurts of cum coating your hand as well as his stomach and thighs. You helped him ride out of his intense orgasm by continuing to slowly run your fist up and down his member until his breathing pattern went back to normal.

  "Clean it up like licking off ice cream, just like how I did." You held your cum-covered hand to him and relished the sight of your good boy working his tongue on you obediently. "Such a precious pup." You complimented him after he was done as you proceeded to clean up all the sticky mess on him with wet tissues.

  After you untied Jaemin and massaged his sore wrists, you stood him up. He leaned his head on your shoulder, tightly embracing you like his whole life depended on you as you soothingly rubbed aloe vera gel on his spanked ass. You murmured sweet nothings to him, complimented how good and cherishable he is as you caressed his body lovingly while dabbing soft kisses all over him, making it as gratifying as possible.

  "Is it fair that I am the only one that got to cum?" Jaemin asked while redressing, realizing that he didn't directly pleasure you.

  "Disciplining brats itself is fun enough." You contentedly replied as you helped him button up his shirt. "You can make it up to me next time if you want." You playfully winked at him.

  "Anything for you, noona." He responded with a shy smile.

  "That's my good boy." You beamed while petting his head, fixing his hair shortly after.

  "Dinner with me? My treat." You invited as he nodded in response, internally celebrating the best night ever that is about to come.