#this has gone in a different direction than originally planned

[ducktracy]

the first clip for "the day the earth blew up" was posted on twitter. can you spare us your thoughts?

@aadrawings: So uh how about that new Looney movie clip?

I MOST CERTAINLY CAN SPARE MY THOUGHTS! TWIST MY ARM! first, i'll link it here in case anyone hasn't seen it:

FIRST (and most obvious) THING'S FIRST: I'M SOOOOOOOOO EXCITED UUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHH!!! the film JUST started premiering in Annecy as we speak and my heart is literally pounding MY FINGERS LITERALLY SHAKING. so i apologize if this turns into a discombobulated mess i'm so so so excited and trying to keep an eagle eye out for any and all details. BUT ANYHOO

IT LOOKS GREAT!!! this is a fully rendered clip of the roughs that were uploaded back in September of 2022, so i'm already pretty familiar with this since i gushed over it to hell and back then, too. i had a few teeny tiny neurotic nitpicks that i would not take too seriously--honestly me nitpicking anything modern LT is a good sign because it means i'm ENGAGED and actively thinking and engaging with the material. there are a lot of modern LT adaptations i cannot say the same for. so it's all out of a labor of love and i also realize that most of these nitpicks are very.. you guys know my level of fanaticism. don't take it too seriously. my standards for this series AND THESE TWO KNUCKLEHEADS IN PARTICULAR who are my favorite characters of all time are so high that even the classics don't meet those expectations half the time. we all know i'm insane. BUT ENOUGH BLUFFING

my biggest critique is that it's going to take me quite a bit to get used to Eric Bauza's Porky. i LOVE Bauza, he is such a sweet guy (he sang me happy birthday as Daffy Duck and i almost exploded) and so talented and it's been really great seeing him rise up the ranks. i used to only know him as "the guy who voiced Stimpy in APC" and so i'm VERY glad to see he's gone on to greener pastures LOL.

but, with that said, the first time i saw these roughs i actually thought Porky's lines were scratch audio. there isn't enough stuttering--it's important for me to note that people give Porky's stutter WAY too much prevalence, in terms of how he sounds and just characterization as a whole. a stutter is not a personality. BUT, in the clips above, he doesn't really sound like Porky unless he's stuttering. it moreso sounds like Daffy talking to himself. Mel Blanc had Porky speak (and even sing!) in full sentences all the time, but it's never noticeable unless pointed out because Porky still sounded like Porky and Blanc knew how to make his personality come out in his voice beyond the vocal fluff of a stutter.

part of it is because i'm so used to Bob Bergen. and, even THEN, if i watch too much LTC or Duck Dodgers in one sitting, i need to "recalibrate" with the originals and hear Blanc. Bergen's Porky is much different than Mel's, more formal, the stutter more concrete in its formula (fun fact: Blanc's Porky has a southern twang in his voice if you listen for it depending on who's voice directing and i love it so much. biggest giveaway is how his "i"'s will often sound like an "ah" instead, not thinking of the stutter. I WARNED YOU we are getting into super pedantic territory here), but, much like how Joe Alaskey's Daffy is a much different interpretation than Blanc's Daffy, he was able to really make it his own. i think Bauza's Porky is still in a little bit of a limbo in finding its identity with that regard. but, also, keep in mind we've only heard him in this clip and Space Jam 2 and i have no plans of revisiting SJ2 to make a point here. sorry

THAT'S MY BIGGEST CRITIQUE i'd say! others are small, such as the design of the landlady is fun but reads like something out of the 2020 Animaniacs than anything based in the LT design philosophy, and you could argue that the fluidity is more Richard Williams-esque in its visual fluffiness and perhaps even excessiveness than, again, anything relating to LT. but i take less stock in that last one because the animation is STILL GORGEOOOOOOOOOOOOUS WHAT THE HECK!!!! so many fluid arcs and i really love that scene of Daffy talking to the landlady. the subtle twitching on Porky's cheek as a secondary action made me laugh.

other than that... you guys know that I. LOVE. LTC. i have been tracking it before it released, and there are posts on this blog (i think i saw one even dating back to its initial announcement in 2018, though it may have been a 2019 post of the 2018 upload. dunno.) dating back before i was even into LT at ALL. i've been keeping an eagle eye on every single development. the day they premiered i watched the entire batch 3 times in a row. i streamed it for you guys too! some people reading this may have been in that room.

ALL THIS TO SAY, i LOVE LTC SO MUCH and it's been the most excited i've been for anything in a very long time. i also have my fair share of nitpicks, but, as i've expressed above, they all come out of a place of love. some of the Porky and Daffy shorts in the LTCs i would have handled differently if i had my hands on them. Porky and Daffy are two characters who are deeply special to me, everyone knows me as The Porky And Daffy person including my coworkers and bosses, my friends who worked on the show and film have told me many times they're eager for my thoughts. the pig and duck are literally a part of my identity. so my critiques come more out of a place of fanaticism and love for the characters and wanting to do them justice and wanting people to see what i see in them, rather than an actual dig at the product

THAT ALL BEING SAID. there are some pitfalls and little traps the P+D (and a lot of LTC in general) shorts run into that i'm expecting to be in the movie as well. there's a little bit here with the screaming and some lines of dialogue that i probably would have shaved off (like "our roof?"). months ago i started typing up mini reviews of each LTC short that i may compile here someday--my Max subscription was about to run out and i wanted to watch all the LTCs one last time while i could. and then i renewed because i couldn't watch quickly enough and now need to return LOL--and it allowed me to lay out some of the nitpicks i have with the series more clearly, which i am fully expecting to also be in the movie. and that's okay!

ALLLL OF THIS RAMBLING IS TO SAY: I AM SO EXCITED. i've been tracking every single detail of this movie and this SERIES like a hawk since it was announced. i was even asked to work on the film back in 2021, but turned it down because i wasn't secure enough in my abilities and didn't know what job security would look like after i finished on the film. i'm glad i stuck with the decision as i did, because i figured i can draw those two any time i want, and the fact that i got asked meant that there are eyes on my work and i may get asked with other LT related offers (which turned out to be true!). needless to say, turning down the offer was genuinely one of the most excruciating things i've ever done and it seriously sent me into a pretty big funk for the next few days and weeks.

so, with all that said, it is ESPECIALLY important for me to see how this movie is and celebrate it and keep my fanatical obsessive eagle eye out. i'm so glad i get to live in a world where this is a movie that is happening and coming out. i've already got plans to see it with a best friend who i've shoved the agenda of the pig and duck down her throat many times. i am so excited to cheer on all my friends and colleagues who worked on this film. it's the most excited i think i have ever been for anything actively coming out in my life.

[is-emily-real]

The new chapter is up! Go check it out!

[isa-ghost]

So uh. With the notion that c!Jack is no longer canon to the egos story. Here's where we're at:

It has no effect on Jackie other than debunking the "Jack is Jackie's real identity" theory.

It has no effect on Marvin unless I'm somehow forgetting something.

COMPLETELY derails what we know about Henrik. Jack was his best friend, as was Chase, he saved both their lives (reminder: Henrik confirmed Chase's case in KJSE), Anti possessed him BECAUSE he was trying to save Jack, which to us was the origin of all his fanon trauma, which has made SO MUCH of his character over the years as well as for his comeback in May 2018

It scraps a lot of Chase's foundation as Jack's best friend, overturns a huge chunk of what we know about him via Mayhem. The coma plot, Chase being in charge of the channel posing as Jack, that's all gone now. His only plot now is getting divorced, losing his kids, getting evicted. And Dark Silence, because Chase's encounter with Anti in it leads to him being contained by IRIS. Basically it's Bro Average -> Dark Silence -> CHASE -> IRIS & any future Alterverse content now.

It has no effect on Jameson. His lore as we know it, being Anti's unwilling puppet, is still concrete. Assuming this is what Sean continues to build off. We don't know what his plans are, all we know is Anti is some sort of anomaly now.

I 100% understand why Sean is redacting c!Jack and as an OC writer myself, I totally get "not knowing what you're doing at first so it has to be scrapped down the line." But it's still sad that this is taking a wrecking ball to Henrik's story. I think personally I'll be referring to it as his Beta Story on anything theory related I make for now on.

I'm not really sure how to word the thoughts I have now otherwise, but I do desperately hope my fellow theorists, newbies and veterans alike, are as willing as I am to trust Sean to take the story in its new direction. And respect it. We know there's someone very present in the community helping him with it and keeping a lot of the plot points and character lore we're all so attached to in his mind. While the coma *was* one of those things, again, I totally get why it has to be redacted. And honestly? That probably makes things less complicated in the long run, which I think we'll all appreciate WAY more eventually if we don't already, because it means there's less for us to worry about being done justice.

I think sometime this evening I'll make a post that constructs what, as far as we currently know, is all still canon. Just for our sanity's sake.

And for the record, for anyone who relies on my theory blog @isas-theory-wall, I'm not gonna "clean out" any posts from it or rearrange my tags to differ between Beta Plot and Actual Canon (at least not now, not until it proves to make utilizing my blog inconvenient or something). All our old stuff and what we Thought was canon prior to the story revamp will remain. If not for future use, at least for nostalgia.

[mysebacielblog]

In Depth Analysis: Sebastian and Elizabeth

I love the relationship that Lizzy and Sebastian have. If you know the fact that Sebastian is the Main Character of Black Butler (it’s in the title) and subscribe to the romance/intimacy that he and Ciel share, then this would make Lizzy one of the Biggest Antagonists of all of Black Butler. On the level of antagonism to the Undertaker, perhaps even more! Which is funny because, just, just LOOK AT HER. She’s just this preteen girl!! Who the heck would consider her an antagonist?!

These two have gone up against literal immortal forces that pose a great threat to them physically. The only person who holds this kind of sway is the real Ciel. However. I would consider him to be more of an antagonist to both Ciel and Sebastian, whereas Lizzy is an antagonist and a threat to Sebastian alone. And while Ciel’s Brother (R!ciel) reminds Ciel of his past, Lizzy reminds Ciel of his Future that he will never have. Although she is a bit of a nuisance and a hindrance to Ciel and his plans, Lizzy isn’t a full fledged antagonist for him.

She’s even a sweetheart to everyone, even Sebastian, despite how weird the entire Phantomhive estate is. Their cordial passive aggressiveness and pleasantness between them compared to more direct characters (such as Aunt Francis) is fascinating to watch.

But she has him absolutely TREMBLING in his leather boots, because not only is she the Main Antagonist, but no, a Love Antagonist Even. Because even though our Ciel still keeps her at an arms length and treats her more like family than a proper fiancé, he still cares tremendously about her and her emotions. She represents a life where our Ciel Lives, grows up, has a future, and doesn’t pursue his Revenge. Which is the biggest threat to their contract entirely. As a narrative foil, she’s sweet, loud and angelic, and based on the original story, could be the very salvation that could Save Ciel’s soul.

And the best part of it is she is also really, really good at fighting and can go toe to toe with Sebastian in a fight- and he Can’t even lay a finger on her!

The envy these two have for each other is palpable- each wants what the other has of Ciel’s Time and Affections. It’s the difference between wanting a Public Relationship for Appearances and desiring a private relationship for sharing one’s secrets.

I think the most interesting aspect of their relationship is that even though they’re rivals, Sebastian Lets Lizzy GO, going completely against Ciel’s Wishes, knowing that was “impossible to shackle one’s heart”. Was this some small mercy of growth or sympathy, distance the two from interacting, or simply a way to move the agenda forward?

The only character that would consider her an antagonist of any type would be a demon.

[ruewrote]

𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: some strong language GENRE: angst, fluff, friends to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: worst of you by maisie peters WORD COUNT: 1k

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you stood at the end of the dock, at your spot. the tip of your shoe skimming the surface of the water, shivering at the cool breeze that brushed past you.

wrapping your arms tighter around your body, searching for any type of warmth and comfort as you checked the notifications on your phone for what felt like the fifteenth time that hour, some were from pope and sarah but none from jj.

he promised he'd be here this time! you should've known.

this was the third time in two weeks that you would make plans and something had come up, his empty promises filled you with hope, only for him to be a no-show.

the sun was now setting. tears stung your eyes, sniffling whilst looking down at the ripples of the water finding no interest in doing what you were originally here to do.

"im so stupid, i really thought he was going to be here." shaking your head, more tears fell down your cheeks as you stood.

the walk home was absolutely miserable and the rain that had started to drizzle didn't help either. the few drops turned into heavy showers, having felt there was no need for an umbrella earlier on your clothes were now soaked right through down to your underwear.

opening your front door you were greeted by your excited sister waiting for all the juicy details, knowing that you were gonna confess and helped you get ready for the occasion too.

the tears that had once subsided now came flooding back, she just wrapped you up in a firm hug as you sobbed in her arms.

after you had calmed a little she sat you down asking you what happened or if he had rejected you, but you just explained how he never showed up. how he never even sent you a text about it?

"im gonna kick his ass! who even does that? no, no, no let me rephrase that. when has jj ever done that? especially to you of all people!"

that got you thinking, obviously, him not showing was really hurtful in general, but at the same time, it confused you since this was the boy who wouldn't let you carry your school bag as long as he was around or would bring you your favorite coffee in the morning even if he was late.

for the next couple of days, you avoided jj, which wasn't hard since he had different classes than you that week. the times that you guys did bump into each other you either made up an excuse or joined the sea of people who were rushing to get to their next lesson.

this had been far from easy for you, there hadn't really been a time when the two of you weren't together.

now you're here, sitting by yourself in the library doing your history project here since your laptop decided to stop working halfway through.

hours had gone by and you had made a ton of progress on your work, now sitting back and taking a long sip out of your water bottle as you proofread what you had written only to be interrupted by a loud bang from the entrance of the building, making you jump and turn to investigate.

a mistake on your part since you made direct eye contact with the mad blonde. ducking your head, gathering your things together before logging off seeing if there was any way of sneaking past him.

"what have you been?" fuck.

you tried to ignore and walk around him but were only pulled back to face him by your arm. gentle, his touch was so light like it always had been. he'd never hurt you. no matter how angry he got.

"answer me!" jj exclaimed, only to be shushed by the librarians.

everyone was now looking at the two of you, so you grabbed his hand, dragging him out of there. of course only for it to be pouring again.

"you have the audacity to be trying to call me out on this when you've ghosted me for almost a whole week and then expected us to just go back to normal? like everything's okay between us?" you scoffed, running your hands through your hair, huffing out a laugh.

"i was...busy, i couldn't help it! im sorry okay?"

having heard enough of his shit you walked out into the cold with jj following close behind you.

"y/n talk to me!" he shouted over the loud pattering, stopping you in your tracks, whipping around to face him.

"do you know why i asked you to go to our place the other day?"

he just shook his head.

"i have yearned for you for years, in secrecy and silence." your voice was almost a whisper, but he heard you.

"what?"

"its you jj, its always been you... im in love with you." both of your chests heaving heavily, finding it hard to catch your breath in the rain. tears filled your eyes as you tried to look everywhere but him. his stare felt almost too much.

"but you never said anything?" jjs voice broke as his own tears caressed his cheeks but were quickly wiped away by the raindrops.

"how could i? you're looking at me but you don't see me jj. do you know how that feels? i just want you to see me. please."

that's when he strode toward you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him, your arms wrapping around his neck. tilting his head to the side as his lips brushed against yours.

his hands slid to your lower back, deepening the kiss. reaching up you intertwined your fingers in his hair lightly pulling at the wet strands, a muffled groan left him which only made you smile as you pulled away.

"i love you too, by the way, i didn't know if i made that clear or not?" jj joked which only made you playfully punch him.

the next day the two of you were both cuddled up in your bed sniffling, very sick from stupidly standing in a literal storm yesterday, but hey it was totally worth it in the end.

© ruewrote.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Traveling around Liyue has been an experience which was beyond difficult to describe. The land was filled to the brim with various different kinds of areas to explore, food to try and people to talk to.

Your personal favorite became the endless sea of stories which the locals had, particularly about the adepti.

Many of them were some sort of protectors of certain areas, much like the one you were in. You listened carefully to the innkeeper as he told his tales in fables, each more mesmerizing than the previous one.

You didn't even notice the glowing eyes of the stranger in the crowd.

Emerald green eyes shined bright with curiosity as the hooded figure quietly sipped his tea. It's been a while since a foreigner stepped foot in his land, he thought to himself.

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about it.

But he knew all too well how to feel about the stories which graced his ears. It took everything in his power to not spit his drink out in a fit of laughter - these humans! They get more ridiculous and preposterous each time he sees them!

The foreigner was probably the same as well. However, it was most amusing to see that overly excited expression on their face. The hooded figure stroked their chin in deep thought as they pondered on how the foreigner might feel on hearing those thousand year old tales from the original source.

Soon enough, a plan was formed but he could not help but to cringe a little at its simplicity. He figured he could do better but perhaps sometimes, simple is the way to go.

Like a shadow he sneaked his way towards your table and slipped on a note on it, the handwriting neat and a bit odd looking. It took you a little while to notice the note and were very surprised to see it. You picked it up and it read as follows:

"Greetings.

You seem to have a keen interest in these magnificent stories. And what a coincidence, I too happen to share the same passion."

With a sharp turn of your head, you put the letter back on the table and saw the mysterious man hanging about in the corner. A polite smile graced his lips as he raised his cup in the air, a silent greeting and acknowledgment towards you.

NOTE! Your choices matter! The choice you pick will ultimately decide the fate of this story!

With your thoughts regained, you continue to read the letter. In the corner of your eye, you can see the man is staring at you but it is hard to notice any physical features other than his otherworldly eyes.

"I am an expert in telling stories such as these, therefore if one is interested I will be more than happy to share my own."

You raise an eyebrow and turn once more towards the man, but he chuckles and gestures back to the letter.

"You need not fret for your safety, if that is what causes your concern. Plenty of Milileth guards patrol the area, therefore, you are free to shout if you feel threatened by my presence."

You let out a little sigh. For what it was worth, the man at least was aware of how odd the situation was. Curiosity filled your being as you continued on reading:

"Meet me at the top of that southwest mountain which is close to the inn around midnight.

I shall wait for you there."

As you finished reading, you placed down the parchment of paper back on the wooden table. You hoped to speak to the stranger face to face but as you turned in their direction, they were gone.

Whisked by the wind as some people liked to say.

With nothing else to do - while being thoroughly intrigued - you packed your bag and made your way towards the counter to pay. The worker stopped you, explaining that your meal was already paid upfront by a kind gentleman.

Huh, how sweet.

With a heavy bag and the fire of exploring carrying your legs, you set off towards the set meeting point. There were three main ways to go but were unsure which one to take.

(A/N - I need to make a separate post if I want to continue this as I want it to, oopsie)

[coraniaid]

You said a few days ago that you would have liked if season 7 went more in the direction of Help rather than the direction of the First. I know you're not a big fan of the First but I was wondering what you meant by that specifically, and what kind of direction you might have preferred season 7 go in overall?

I don’t have any good reason to think it actually happened, but I always get the impression from watching or thinking about Season 7 that the early plans for the season changed pretty significantly at some point after most of the first few episodes had already been written.  (Perhaps when they decided that it would also be the last season?  I’ve heard conflicting accounts of when that decision was made.)

If you go back and look at the then-contemporary discussions of the show, the whole season was initially marketed as something of a ‘year zero’: a return to the show’s high school era roots, to something much more upbeat than Season 6, to the original Scooby Gang as the focus of the show.  

And just to be clear, I rather like Season 6 – it doesn’t always work, and I think some of the subplots are pretty dreadfully executed, and sometimes I respect the episodes more than I enjoy watching them – but it inarguably has a clear vision for the story it’s trying to tell, one that builds on and recontextualizes what came before it.  But for the payoff for that season to land, we needed Season 7 to be different.  To be less cynical, more hopeful.  It needed to show us that Buffy was right to promise Dawn in Grave that things were going to get better.  

And that sort of reset is what we got … for about half a dozen episodes.  Then, of course, it goes rather horribly wrong.

I like Help in particular because it is, for me, the closest the show ever gets to delivering on that promise of a return to the high school era.  It’s not quite a regression or a soft reboot: Buffy is still an adult with a job, even if she’s suddenly unexpectedly back in high school.  Her more mundane responsibilities haven’t suddenly gone away. But now the job she has isn’t something she hates but has to do – it’s something that she actually has a calling for, almost literally, something that harks back to her getting the Class Protector award back in Season 3.   In Help Buffy’s inhabiting the same world she did in the first three seasons, she’s still trying to save people, but this time with a new, more experienced perspective. 

The episode feels very aware of the show’s history, too.  There are nods to Lie To Me (a teenager Buffy knows is going to die because of illness, not anything supernatural Buffy can stop) and Reptile Boy (the cult trying to sacrifice a teenage girl to a demon for material riches) and Beauty and the Beasts (with Buffy herself taking on the role of Mr Platt, worried that Mike is going to turn out to be another Pete), and of course the whole episode is a callback to Prophecy Girl.  Because Cassie – probably the show’s last great one-episode character (and yes, the actor comes back later but the person doesn’t) – isn’t just somebody Buffy is trying to save, she is Buffy: a Season 1 Buffy who struggles to make friends and has a supernatural gift she doesn’t like to talk about and knows she’s going to die heartbreakingly young.  I don’t think it’s merely chance that Cassie’s big speech to Buffy about her destiny (“You think I want this?  You think I don’t care?”) echoes Buffy’s own words to her mother in Becoming either (“You think I choose to be like this?”).

Plus, while the episode ties into the wider story arc – with Spike in the basement and hints that Principal Wood might be up to something and our first appearance of future Potential Amanda – the whole thing still tells a coherent, self-contained story.  It stands on its own right; it makes sense on its own terms.  it’s not just another installment in the long running saga of General Buffy and the friends she never talks to who later kick her out of the house she owns.

And I think there was a lot more ground there to explore, in the same vein as Help.  At least a full season’s worth.  There was so much more the show could have tried to do in terms of going back and revisiting some of the classic moments of the first three seasons from a more mature and more grown-up perspective, instead of summarily kicking Buffy out of her new job and then blowing the school up (again).  If this season is about the future – about new Slayers being called, one way or another – then what does that mean?  How else are Buffy and Willow and Xander engaged in the challenge of trying to pass on what they’ve learned about life on the Hellmouth to a new generation?  

At its best, Buffy has always been in conversation with its past, building on ideas that were touched on in one season and asking the audience to think about them again from a different angle.  And the beginning of Season 7 sets up the perfect stage to try to do more of that.

I’d have loved to have seen a whole season of Buffy trying to keep her students alive while also preparing them to go out and live in the world.  Of Dawn making new friends and finding value in being herself, not just the Slayer’s sister or the mystical Key.  Of Buffy and Willow and Xander really getting to know each other again, and having a chance to talk about everything that happened to them last year.  A whole season of, in a way, seeing the show from the very beginning, but this time from the perspective of people like Giles or Jenny or Joyce.

But instead we got a lot of boring wank about an impossibly old super-god who can’t actually touch anything (but one who Buffy would definitely let Dawn die to defeat because this godlike being is so much more impressive and scary than Glory, trust us guys, please, we swear) and her army of interchangeable and personality-free super vampires (and of course Caleb, who’s somehow even more mind-numbingly boring than they are).  Instead we get a second half of the season in which Andrew Wells has more screen time than Willow or Xander or Anya or Giles or Dawn.  Instead we get to wonder whether Giles is the First and try to pretend to care that Spike has been hypnotized.  Instead we get Lies My Parents Told Me.

Oh well.  At least Faith shows up near the end.

[scottfreed]

Comparing the Text of the "TANGLED: Before the Ever After SERIES BIBLE" and the "Tangled The Series: Series BIBLE"

I wanted to compare the text from the two Tangled bibles from the Disney leaks since there seemed to be a lot of overlap in the language and I was interested to see what had changed between the initial BEA bible(2015) and the TTS series bible(2018).

I'm in the asoiaf fandom and we do this with old George RR Martian drafts and manuscripts all the time, a sort of literary archeology. I took the plain text of both documents and ran a comparison to see what had changed between the two bibles. ((My dumbass put the 2018 TTS document as the original and the 2015 BEA doc as the "modified" one. So the Struck through text is actually the older/original/BEA.))

So obviously, the TTS bible was far longer since it was created and modified far later into development and even after wrap. It encompasses waaay more material. So naturally, all the S2 material outside if a brief synopsis was not in the BEA.

S1 Characters that do not appear in the 2015 BEA bible, but do in the 2018 TTS bible include: Angry, Red, Sugarby, Monty(even though his episode was), WRECK MARAUDER (Same as Monty), Fidella, and surprisingly: Stan and Pete.

And most surprising of all: the Captain didn't have a character profile in that initial document even though I could swear he has more episodes than characters like Lance, Varian, Quirin, and Xavier who all do have profiles in the 2015 BEA one.

I wonder if this indicates the order in which the characters were developed, or if they had different initial plans to use certain characters with more frequency and that didn't work out.

And as I sort of mentioned, in the BEA document, there were only summaries of six episodes after the special; "Challenge of the Brave," "Rapunzel's Enemy," "Cassandra Vs. Eugene," "In Like Flynn," "Under Wraps," and ""Fitzherbert PI."

It's fascinating to me how most of these are Cass and Eugene focused eps, with only one truly Raps focused one.

Anyway...

First big difference in the text:

By far the most common and consistent change between versions was Cassandra's job.

In 2015 in the Before Ever After pitch, she was consistently referred to as a "handmaiden" and then as of the 2018 TTS series bible this was changed everywhere to "lady in waiting".

I always wondered about this shift. At first I wondered if the change was to distance the show from the wildly successful, but thematically dark/adult "Handmaid's Tale" which came out within like a month of TTS, but now I'm wondering if it was more to align her thematically with her later characterization of "the Lady in waiting who is sick of waiting." It's probably that latter option. But I did kind of prefer the handmaiden angle since a lady in waiting is still comparatively powerful nobility. And imo a "maid" taking on a Kingdom is way more sympathetic than a lady doing so. It could have just added that extra layer of class conflict, but oh well.

No matter the reason, "Handmaiden" is out, "Lady in waiting" is in!

Attila got a little fleshing out between versions! Though this never seemed to materialize. I almost wonder if someone needed to hit a word-limit or something. I would have liked to see an ep showing Attila more and more integrated into Coronan society. See his progress from S1 to S3.

It seems the decision to have the full entourage outside of the main three on the mission might have been a later addition. (Alternatively the 2015 bible might have just had need to be more short and concise with the S2 details.)

It did seem(unfortunately) like the spare 5 didn't contribute much to the overarching plot, so I wouldn't be surprised if that were true. (And I'm including the Hookfoot filler episodes with that.) It would have looked pretty different, but might have been more character focused if they had gone in that direction.

Seems the Lorb episode was originally REALLY different...

The idea of them being mythical leaf people was a later addition, as well as the island aspect of the setting.

And it looked like the human "distinct tribe of people" were originally going to be worshiping Rapunzel and not Pascal. I can certainly see why they changed this so much.

It would be hard for Raps to beat the Demigoddess allegations and maintain the everyman vibe, plus the God Guise/Cargo Cult tropes are awkward as hell in that context.

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?

"The Brotherhood of the Stone" ?????

..... Brotherhood fans btfo, its so over, we will literally never recover from this. *passes away*

No but really, no distinct mention of Adira or someone in her role. I wonder if the idea of discord/disagreement among the Brotherhood members didn't come about until later.

This is pretty cool! I didn't know that "Plus Est En Vous" seemed to be the initial name for the special! Then it got changed and used for the finale.

It also looks like "Cassandra vs. Eugene" was a pretty different episode initially as well.

It looks like originally, the scavenger hunt was not intended to lock them in the dungeons, and the Stabbingtons weren't involved.

I'm kind of of two minds on this one since on the one hand I like when decisions are deliberate and not just a matter of coincidence gives the characters agency. Plus I like the Stabbington's as villains and was glad to see them. But on the other hand, Rapunzel locking people in a cell when being locked away against her will is so central to her character and no one ever calling her out for it was so off-putting to me. Plus it made the Stabbingtons much less threatening.

I almost want to see that original version of that ep. I wonder if it would have been more character-focused.

And the last little changes I noticed were to "In Like Flynn" where they changed the word "crime" to "scheme" in the description and dropped the "King" for just "Frederic" probably just to convey the lighter tone of the episode better.

Oh, and one more!

The "Moonstone" didn't seem to be named as of BEA and there was some intentional(?) ambiguity about Edmond and his title and origin.

Overall not a lot of big differences. But it was a bit surprising what elements and characters where emphasized compared to what ended up manifesting in the show.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

https://x.com/captainh4ndsome/status/1774282734288138451?s=46

I saw this series of quotes and why do you think that hat has three stabs from buggy? Is it truly connected to shuggy? Could shuggy really be that important???

so, here are the tweets in question. (one of which is from @goingbuggy! hi there! this is, what, the third time someone’s asked me to talk about your tweets? i guess at least one of my anons is a fan.)

i have wondered a time or two whether in oda’s early planning it might have been buggy who gave shanks that three-slash scar. (i’ve heard that oda originally had a five year plan for one piece, though i’ll admit i’ve never sought out a direct source for that.) in that case, the slashes through the hat might have been intended as foreshadowing.

but since buggy wasn’t the one to make that scar, instead it leads us to draw comparisons between these characters who both have wielded three blades on one hand. and maybe it’s just because they were both written as foils to luffy, but i find comparing buggy and blackbeard very interesting!

similarities:

former warlord of the sea/current emperor of the sea

devil fruit user

served on a big name’s crew back in the day

intentionally went under the radar/overlooked for years

doesn’t really buy into concepts like “loyalty” or “honor,” happy to turn on a crew mate or backstab an ally if it’s to his advantage

used to wield three blades but these days prefers explosive-adjacent weapons

not happy to see red-haired shanks at marineford

differences:

fell into those positions by chance/years of plotting to get into those positions

a devil fruit with zero combat utility (besides avoiding damage)/possibly the devil fruit with the most combat utility? (though, unusually, he can take damage while wielding it)

their reasons for going under the radar (fear of being hunted down/working towards a secret goal)

the consequences for overlooking them (for shanks: losing buggy/losing to bb, or at least taking a very bad wound from him; for others: misinformation on a global scale/the literal paramount war)

buggy is a strong believer in the captain-crew bond, which bb absolutely does not buy into

type of three-bladed weapon (three throwing daggers, suggests flexibility, hidden motives, a preference for distance fighting; claw weapon, suggests light-footedness, straightforwardness—you know when a claw wielder is about to start fighting, he’s gone and put the claws on)

type of explosive weapon (bombs, suggests pre-planning, a preference for distance fighting, maximum damage for minimum effort; guns, suggests a flexibility on distance vs melee range, a willingness to threaten rather than kill outright)

why they didn’t want to see shanks (ugh, that guy pisses me off/i think that guy might literally kill me lmao)

[scotianostra]

On February 1st 1865 the Highland Railway was formed from the amalgamation of Inverness and Perth Junction and the Inverness and Aberdeen Junction Railways.

Back in the day every region had it’s own local railway company covering the different areas around the country. The Highland Railway ran from Perth in Central Scotland north to Inverness and then on up the east coast to Wick and Thurso. From Dingwall, the railway ran west to Kyle of Lochalsh to serve Skye and the Western Isles. From Inverness, another line ran east to Keith, where it connected with the line to Aberdeen. Several branches were built from this core network to serve nearby towns.

This is a longer post than I normally put together but hope you get an idea of how all these wee companies ran, and ended up becoming the one company, before of course the bigger companies ate them all up. Some of the stations are now gone, but others mentioned, like Kingussie, Nairn, Keith and Dunkeld survive to this day, and I often pass through them on my travels north. It also gives us an insight intothe infamous Beeching cuts in the 60’s which butchered the rail network, if Beeching had his way there would be no railways beyond Inverness!!

Inverness was always the centre of the Highland Railway. It was the company’s headquarters and principle station. All trains led to Inverness.

The original proposals to construct railways to Inverness were made in the mid-1840s. Rival routes were proposed from Perth and Aberdeen . The Perth & Inverness Railway was considered too hilly for the locomotives of the day, but the Great North of Scotland Railway (GNSR) from Aberdeen was authorised. The GNSR struggled to raise capital in the post-railway mania period and eventually started construction as far as Huntly in 1852, opening that line in 1854.

The people of Inverness then stepped in and started building their own line from the Inverness end, initially as far as Nairn, the Inverness & Nairn Railway (I&N) was opened on 6th. November 1855 but by then plans were being made to extend this railway to meet the GNSR. After some discussion, the Inverness & Aberdeen Junction Railway (I&AJ) was promoted to build the line from Nairn to Keith where it met the GNSR extension from Huntly. The I&AJ was completed on 18th. August 1858,when it took over the working of the I&N.

The people of Inverness were never satisfied with the long journey round via Aberdeen , especially as the GNSR’s station was half a mile from that of the line from the south and connections were not always maintained. Thus was born the Inverness and Perth Junction Railway (I&PJR) which ran from Forres via Grantown, Kingussie and Drumochter summit to Dunkeld where it met with end on with the Perth and Dunkeld Railway which had opened in 1856. The I&P was authorised in 1861 and opened just two years later, being worked from the outset by the I&AJR. The two companies amalgamated on 1st. February 1865 to form the Highland Railway.

Meanwhile construction northwards from Inverness had already started, with a line to Dingwall (1862), Invergordon (1863), Bonar Bridge (1864), Golspie (1868), Helmsdale (1871) and Wick and Thurso (1874). Westward from Dingwall, the Dingwall & Skye Railway was opened to Strome Ferry in 1870.

In the 1890s, two additions were made to the main network. The direct line from Aviemore over Slochd to Inverness was completed in 1898, a year after the Skye line was extended to the present terminus at Kyle of Lochalsh. Several branches were opened from these main lines over the next 40 years, taking the final length of the system to some 242 route miles.Tourist traffic has always been a major source of income for the railways in the Highlands . The Highland Railway developed its own hotels at Inverness , Dornoch and Strathpeffer. It offered combined tours in conjunction with the steamer services of David MacBrayne. Each August it had to contend with the annual migration north for the ‘glorious twelfth.’

The railway played a major part in the First World War, when the Grand Fleet was stationed at Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands . Worn down, like many other railways in the country, it became part of the London , Midland and Scottish Railway in 1923. The LMS continued to develop the lines, introducing dining cars and speeding up services. The Second World War again imposed a considerable strain on the lines.

On the nationalisation of the railways, the Scottish Region of British Railways took over. Soon the development of road transport made a significant impact on the use of the railway. The closure of branch lines, which had started in the 1930s, continued. The Beeching Plan of 1963 envisaged the closure of all lines north of Inverness , but this was not approved because those lines still provided a lifeline in winter. The old route from Aviemore to Forres and a number of intermediate stations on the main lines, were closed. Otherwise the main system remained intact, as it does today. Currently operated by ScotRail, the lines continue to provide a vital link to locals and bring many tourists to the area.

The Highland Railway was well known for its locomotives. Working the steep gradients of the main line, in particular, was always a challenge. Add strong winds and snow and the problems became even worse. The railway introduced the first 4-6-0s to the British Isles, commemorated in the preserved No.103 at the Glasgow Transport Museum . In the 1930s, the LMS Black 5s, locally always called “Hikers”, immediately proved their worth. The isolated nature of the country led British Railways to implement complete dieselisation early in the modernisation plan.

Today class 158 and 170 diesel multiple units work most of the trains, but you can still retire to bed in a sleeper on the line out of London Euston and wake up to the sound of a Class 67 struggling up Drumochter.

[ellitx]

Just A Little Bit | Heizou x Reader

You’re in a hurry for brunch with your friend but your husband decided to make you stay a bit longer with him. 

my second heizou bday fic. i know im late but whatever. i crave for domestic husband heizou stories 

warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, nsfw content

word count: 5.9k

Vigorously blinking once then twice, the sleep was shaken loose from your eyelashes in fine, golden specks of dust. Shapes before you were still molten into a hazy blur, emphasized by fulgent beams of Sunday morning light that flooded through the bathroom door and propped open halfway.

It's as though your brain had woken up shortly before your vision got the chance to and now it had some catching up to do. Your silhouette was presented to you— weary and lightly slouched in the mirror, circling a toothbrush within your mouth at a reluctant pace.

Shrouded in post-sleep delirium, you realize you've forgotten to wet it before you squeezed the toothpaste upon it, where you're reminded by the dryness of the sharper-than-usual mint taste on your tongue.

Without paying much mind to it, you exude a groan through gritted teeth, proceeding to brush them.

Mentally, you browbeat yourself for having gotten up this early on a damned Sunday, let alone freed yourself from your sleeping husband’s firm, love-infused grasp you found yourself encased in upon waking up. However, to your own demise, you almost forgot the plans you had made for this day.

And judging by the claim of the clock adorning the wall that you checked mere minutes prior, you were dealing with the better part of an hour to get ready in order to make it there in time. Considering your drowsy composition, you would have to make each minute count.

Once your surroundings swim into view more or less clearly, you're suddenly taken aback by the state you're in. A succession of marks bloomed upon the side of your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and disappearing beneath the crisp white cotton of one of Heizou’s button-ups you're enveloped in.

Each one of them deviated from the rest in color ever so slightly, gleaming at you in different shades of dark purples and reds.

You cannot deny your awe. It doesn't look bad per se, but the hints of a possible attack having gone down are there. Though there wasn't one; not in a way one would think, anyway.

Whenever frustration has built up within Heizou to a point that diminished him to nothing but a huffing, grumbling mess when he’s at a dead end of finding clues, he would almost become primal in nature. You, of course, secretly wallowed in these particular occasions— the roughness of his touch and pace, the hoarseness of his voice drilling into your ear, the sharpness of his teeth each time they'd sink into your flesh.

Catching yourself dwindling away into a lustful daydream, you forced your thighs together and squirmed restlessly, meaning to ease the tension that has flourished between them. This action forced you to focus upon the knife-like soreness tugging at your lower abdomen, left there the night before— also by your husband, also feverishly, also in an act of passion.

You want to be sort of mad at him, but it's difficult to be. Instead of falling victim to displeasure, your stomach flutters again.

Fuck, you're done for.

Clearing your mind— and the least attempting to— you bend towards the sink and spit out the toothpaste, consecutively rinsing your mouth with a cup of water. You're stirred to alertness by the brisk sound of the bathroom door clicking shut to your left, which prompted you that you're no longer alone here.

Originating from the same direction, faint footsteps crept up to your side. Having splashed a handful of frigid water upon your face, you surged back into the air. To nobody's surprise, Heizou has settled behind you, close enough for his body heat to merge with yours being palpable, but not close enough to make actual physical contact.

He's donned nothing but his trousers, which seemed to be clinging onto his hips for dear life. Not only were you able to follow his happy trail with your eyes, but almost caught a glimpse of the base of his shaft. The outline of which, just by the way, is more than emphasized to you on behalf of the drab fabric. You gulped, the minty freshness on your palate inducing a numbing tremor.

Heizou’s forlorn eyes took a clumsy, yet amiable guess and plateau upon where he assumed your face was, beaming widely. That dark maroon hair of his was all sorts of tousled, sticking out in ten different directions and all four cardinal points.

You were sure he followed your heartbeat here and was currently stalling so as to make use of the silence in order to register its spike, justified by his sudden appearance. It flattered him thus he delights in a hearty chortle.

“Good morning,” you crooned, cutting his glory short. Intent on continuing to dream for at least a little while longer, you studied his charming features in the mirror.

“Morning, sweet,” Heizou retorted through a smile, using his voice for the first time this morning, which was prompted to you by the profound rasp of it that tugged at your heartstrings in an alluring fashion.

He finally made the decision to grasp onto you, his palms wandering beneath the cotton of his shirt that you're wearing, taking hold of your bare hips beneath it. His fingertips pranced upon your skin, and he allowed your bodies to collide by pushing up on you from behind. This was when his arms wholly twined around your figure, pulling you into the soft curve of his slightly bent frame.

His torso was firm and placid against your back, and you were debating whether or not to falter in his grip. He's so pleasantly warm, and though you've only left your shared bed a few minutes ago, you've already grown to miss that signature fervor of his that you know to be the most comforting quality on earth.

Once you shut your eyes, if only for a fraction of a second, it's as though you're still entangled in him, obscured by silk sheets, drifting in and out of sleep as one tends to on a lazy day.

Soon enough, you snapped out of it by forcing your eyes open and repeatedly batting your eyelashes— Heizou heard it, or at least that's what the slight twitch of his head told you.

The reason was simple: You have matters to attend to.

Reaching for a scrub on the right-hand side of the sink, you grabbed the tub and screwed it open. Your hypersensitive husband lightly hummed at the sudden whiff of pomegranate it exuded, theatrically exhaling and thus fanning his lukewarm breath over the back of your head. He then freed one of his hands from around you, using it to peel back the neat collar of the button-up you're wearing, attaching his hot lips to the nape of your neck.

Heizou’s palm consequently snaked underneath your breasts, though loosely, applying the slightest bit of pressure that was nevertheless enough to send your mind down a frenetic spiral.

In contrast with the languid kisses placed upon the back of your neck, he sent sensations tumbling down your back that provoked your nipples to stiffen in an instant and a faint yelp to tear free from your depths.

In response, he merely smirked against your skin, pressing more wet kisses upon it. As though on command, you slanted your head to the side, firmly believing the motion will enhance the sensations you're granted.

Your perception might be manipulated by the placebo effect, but for all you know, it's working just fine. Heizou proceeded to slowly pull away, abandoning the spot upon the nape of your neck that's practically aching for attention now; fluttering and tingling from the ticklish play of your husband’s breath.

Soon, he proceeded to sweep your hair out of the way from the crook of your neck, letting it cascade down your spine. There's care obscured in his motions that you've never encountered with anyone before him, and it left you breathless.

“Why're you up so early, hm?” he questioned in a gravelly tone, and you're suddenly swallowed by the tart wave of regret.

You know you can never get away with fleeing him or his bed, nor is he capable of sleeping well without you, anyway, prone to waking up with the merest stir you caused. He deserved that rest you cheated him out of— with all the work he's been taking on lately, let alone the nightly endeavors he partakes in every now and again, sleep should be his top priority.

Guilt has nagged away at your intestines. You almost find yourself apologizing, but then Heizou lodged his face in the space he just cleared for himself and the steady contact his breath made with your sensitive skin sent an icy shiver racing down your frame; it's refreshing, though frustrating.

If he continues like this, you'll not only be late but exhausted and possibly more marked-up than you already are. Had the situation been different, you wouldn't catch yourself complaining in a million years, but you've been putting off meetings with Sango for as long as you can remember— with half of the excuses to be traced back to Heizou— and don't want to leave her hanging this time around.

Thus, you ignored your husband’s affection and the numbing effect it has on your mind as you dipped your fingers into the scrub and scooped some of it out.

“I'm meeting Sango for brunch, remember?”

You reminded him, only to receive an affirmative hum in return. You started working the scrub between your fingers, lending it warmth before you decided to apply it.

“I already feel terrible after blowing her off so many times. I can't possibly be late.”

“Not even a little late?” Heizou mumbled, sucking greedy kisses onto your neck. His lips dallied along your heated flesh, and every now and again, he flashed his tongue to slide it over the outlines of the marks he's given you last night.

He knew exactly where they are too— the tease he is— it must be the burst of your system and the blood that drained away from them he was smelling. You cannot help but lean into him— it's an instinctive reaction you fail to prevent.

Your body was guilty of naturally responding to his touch, which your brain sheepishly convicted.

“A little bit— just for me?”

His right hand released your breast then it slid downward. It proceeded to loom around the center of your chest, coming to a halt just a breath of a touch over your nipples, where he traced the maroon stains littering the skin stretched over your clavicles.

His calloused thumb caressed the surface, and in combination with the barely noticeable sting of the mark, you're left to endure pleasure so bittersweet it caused your insides to churn.

“Heizou—!”

You choked out, caging a moan that was about to erupt within your mouth. He's kissing your neck in a way that reminds you of all similarly sensual encounters you've shared with him, which, in its turn, caused ardent arousal to pool between your legs.

Since Heizou sniffed away at the air a little more forcefully than normal, you assumed he must've noticed. Having thrown a glance at the mirror, you find it harder and harder to contain yourself. The sight of you captured in his arms, his entire attention focused on your body and your body alone, your eyes hooded and skin ablaze, is nothing short of debaucherous.

Your frame fitted into his so perfectly, the back of your thigh translating the luscious feeling of him gradually hardening against you. His breath was less controlled now, and you delighted in his agitation for a split second. However, you're not one to talk. You're practically melting into his embrace.

“I can taste you off the air, [Name],” he groaned in between planting sloppy kisses upon your neck. His tone is dark, though breathy.

“My wife’s so sweet, so delicious. Can't I make you feel good? Can't I please you, sweetheart? You took me so well last night, I have to express my gratitude.” You whimpered at the sole obscenity of his words, your stomach wringing and twisting at the spilled praise.

He's irresistible, and fuck, you don't want to dismiss the pleasure you know he can bestow upon you. Not when he's offering it to you so gallantly.

With your judgment clouded and all senses heightened, you gasped.

“Hmn! J-just a little bit…”

You failed to recognize where the desperate aspect of your response finds its origin, but you cannot take it back now. Heizou’s lips stretched into a grin against your flesh, and he shifted them to gently nip at your jawline.

“That's it, darling,” he uttered. His left hand gifted your hip an approving squeeze and his voice grazed your ear, coating it in a layer of calidity.

“I'll be quick, I promise. I’ll make my sweet wife cum like I know she loves to.”

The hand that was teasing your sensitive nipple and circling the marks bedecking your chest gradually drifted downward. His fingertips scattered bursts of fervor over your skin, and you stertorously watched the coarse scenario unfold before you in the mirror.

It's a leg-trembling sight, and Heizou knows you're delighting in it, which to his surprise, merely stung him with the prick of jealousy.

The shirt you're wearing is only buttoned halfway, wherefore it peels aside further than would be considered modest, revealing the better part of your left breast. His palm captured the tender mound as your breath hitched treacherously, and kneaded it ever so slightly, enough for the heat between your legs to graduate to a fire.

You issued a whine, needy and hoarse, which signaled him to keep going. After all, you're on a schedule here.

His palm wandered lower, sweeping aside the cotton of his shirt, thus revealing the smoky-pink lace of the underwear you slipped into this morning.

At first, he curiously slid his fingertips along the fabric, just to acquaint himself with it. By now, he's learned all of your lingerie by heart, has his preferences set in stone, and this piece happens to be one he's especially fond of. This realization elicits a groan from him, and in no time—whilst his lips are still gently glued to your jawline— his fingers pushed aside the hem and sneak into your panties.

You shuddered, where his free hand stabilized you, and he comfortingly shushed into your ear. That doesn't help with your agitation, whatsoever.

Heizou started off slowly, first sliding his fingers along your slit and coating them in the slick that's gathered there.

“Man alive… so wet for me. Always so good and wet for me,” he mused, more to himself than to you, partaking in a few more gentle caresses along your core. In response to his teasing, you whimpered, bucking your hips towards the hand that was buried in your underwear.

Soon enough, your husband’s joint middle and ring finger grazed your clit, which they consecutively started rubbing. This is where the first proper moan erupted from your mouth, and you reclined into his frame, one hand clutching onto the bathroom counter for support, the other stumbling upon his free hand to settle on. You don't care that your fingertips are stained with scrub— if only, Heizou welcomed the scratchy sensation on his skin.

His fingers kept their pace, nice and quick, causing white-hot pressure to swell in the pit of your stomach, that you know only Heizou and only him can diffuse. You issued successions of mellow moans and dared to glare at the mirror – and fuck, you're in shambles.

Your mouth was pried open, knuckles were tense from grasping whatever was in your reach, flesh was practically scorching hot, and Heizou’s strong and firm arm was twined around you and steadily working your core. His fully hardened cock urged against you from behind, building piquant friction as you rock in his grip.

It's blissful enough to break out crying, you thought until his fingers rearranged and two of them plunged inside you, his thumb taking over the focus on your clit.

“H-Heizou!”

And suddenly, your entire understanding of pleasure is redefined. His digits curled within you, and you're convinced you won't last much longer like this. Your heart is going haywire beyond your ribs, threatening to crack them. It seems to be the only thing Heizou could hear aside from the array of sounds you gifted him, and he's set on nudging you over the edge right here, right now.

“‘m close…” you rasped, though he was already more than aware of the fact. You used the outcry as an excuse to dilute your moans with at least one coherent word— to not seem as frenzied, at least a little sane, maybe.

Heizou’s voice was low and spread heat across the shell of your ear.

“Let go for me, darling.”

His order was one you cannot disobey, and with another “C'mon, give it to me” falling from his lips, your cunt throbbed and spasmed as you came undone at the merciless pumping of his fingers.

Your legs gave out beneath your weight, your figure suddenly too hefty to hold up, and Heizou was forced to bend his knee for stability as you slumped into him. The whines fleeing you echoed across the bathroom walls, and while you reveled in the bliss your orgasm brought on, he led you through it to the best of his ability.

When the pleasure promptly faded, your eyes fluttered open. You're too ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror, anticipating a picture that'll figuratively cripple you more than you already are. Instead, you panted your pent-up agitation out, clawing at the dissolving remnants of your discharge.

Once your heart lulled, Heizou teasingly dragged his fingers out with a delicious smack, bringing them up to his face and placing them into his mouth to suck on. His tongue swirled along each curve to collect all of the slicks he gathered.

This you cannot disregard, marveling at the reflection of him doing it, still folded into his grip. Your stare burned into him, and his flushed face was suddenly adorned with a smirk. The desolate emerald eyes you love so much ghosted over the mirror once more, and the realization that he's at least trying to find you enchanted you.

Your temple was covered by a glistening film of sweat, hair was unkempt and in sure need of getting taken care of soon.

“I need a shower,” you declared, breathless. The reason you voiced your intention was the realization he'll request to stick around for it, and there's nothing you wish for more. After all, there's still time left. You finally allowed yourself to be a little late, however little persuasion it took.

“That can be done,” he responded as he rested his palms upon your hips. This statement of his meant he was joining you— you hear it in the lingering lustful tone and see it in the curve of his lips. He promptly twirled you around to face him, and after a quick peck on the tip of your nose, lifted you onto the bathroom counter.

You shifted around, getting comfortable and propping yourself up by grasping onto the edges with your hands. Your husband knelt before you, clutching onto your heel and lifting one of your legs into the air.

He kissed a long, ardent trail along it, eliciting some needy panting from you until he was greeted by the much softer and more sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. The overwhelming smell of your pooled slick has overtaken his nose entirely, and God, what on Teyvat he wouldn't do to put his mouth on you and nuzzle into your pleading heat right now?

Nevertheless, he suppressed the urge by detaching his lips from your skin and tangling his finger in the lace of your panties. One second later, he's sliding them down your legs. Once you're freed, they're discarded onto the tiled floor. Soon thereafter, he rose back into the air, slotting himself between your legs and starting to glide his hands over the shirt you're wearing.

It's the same one he came home in last night and the very same one he swathed your glistening, sweaty body in once he was done with you. The recollection caused him to clench his jaw, and he could barely conduct his fingers upon the buttons from the balmy arousal blooming within him. The fact he's painfully hard, straining against his trousers, wasn’t helping either.

Once the button-up was undone, Heizou guided it off your shoulders. By doing so, he released a waft of your scent to come flooding his senses – it cost him a mellow groan.

You shed the shirt completely, nipples perked by the cold of your sudden bareness. As you leaned forward and hooked your fingers in the waistband of his trousers, you absent-mindedly captured your lip between your teeth. Once you slid them down his thighs, his hardened cock sprung out, flushed and upright against his toned stomach— veins defined as ever, leaking at the tip, and flushed from all the blood urging it on.

You cannot lie, the sight was an enticing one to have, which is why you leaped from the counter and dropped onto your knees before him, colliding with the fuzzy rug covering the floor.

Before you get the chance to take any action, though, be it by wrapping your hands around him or even opening your mouth, Heizou caught your chin.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. Today's about you. Plus, didn't you say you were in a hurry? We're showering together and have you get you ready, hm?”

Oh, now he's playing that game. Backing out after finally convincing you to give in to him. You want to hate him and you really try to, but fuck, with his cock hard and rouge on eye-level with you, you're fully convinced you could never find yourself hating Shikanoin Heizou.

Annoyed, you surged upward with a small pout; having taken his hand, you led him towards the shower, where you opened the door and tugged him inside after entering yourself. In his turn, your husband switched on the water, and it came splashing down onto the two of you, gradually heating up.

Still, you're fucking aching for him. Despite having come for him just minutes prior. Despite having him all to yourself for years. Despite having plans to attend in less time than you expect. He can't possibly be teasing you this way after igniting your potent flame.

You gently nudged his taller figure against the wall, lacing your fingers through his damp hair and joining your lips. His palms adhered to your waist, pulling you closer. You veered your body against his erection, meaning to wind him up so he yielded to you at last.

He reciprocated by gasping into your mouth, water leaking into the kiss after dribbling down your faces. For a moment, it appeared as though you'd stolen his composure, but he regained it shortly before you could pride yourself on that achievement.

He trudged forth and pinned you against the tiled wall right across from where you had captured him prior. Once again, he nipped at the skin of your neck, though more vigorously, and this time around introduced his teeth. His lascivious biting has punched the remaining air out of your lungs, which you made noticeable by gulping for it.

This is where his hands set off on a roam across your body, exploring every patch as though he's never touched you before, never made you his before, never ruined this perfect skin of yours before.

He tapped his fingers along the curve of your waist, pads prancing upon its damp, balmy surface. Each minuscule collision elicited a hitched breath from you, and you sent your own hands swerving over his lean, though tender-skinned chest.

Heizou, however, changed course and slowly but surely traveled up to cup your breasts. He palmed the tender mounds, digits toying with your hardened nipples captured between them. You whimpered, the sensation penetrating you to your core.

“My wife’s so beautiful,” he uttered into your flesh with a sated groan, gradually directing his hands back down.

“So perfect,” he sighed, exasperated, and added a breathy All mine. Soon enough, his palms glided towards the tenderness of your thighs, where they squeezed and kneaded and massaged them, whilst his mouth mumbled incoherent chants against your skin.

Whatever it was he's crooning, you understand it's nothing short of delirious – in a way that prompted you he's wholeheartedly in love with you. And as his fingers strayed along your figure, you gifted him alluring successions of deep, grateful whimpers.

Heizou has your body memorized – each stretch, each bend, each sweet spot that could send you down a pathos-filled spiral.

Not much later, his lips caught yours, nipping at them like he was starved for your taste. Even you can sense how flustered he's become, how much desperation he's driven by, how badly he's out to please you.

“Archon, you drive me insane...” he hissed into your mouth, the rapid pace of your heart aligning with his husky breathing. You maintained him pressed flush against you by his shoulders with zero intention to ever let go— the effect his previous statement had upon you was colossal; each limb of yours was buzzing with excitement and your pulse was transcending the realm of health. You could die right here, and it wouldn't be a half-bad way to go.

For a little while, you kissed him back. Soon enough, though, it becomes unbearable to tiptoe around the lechery in this manner— thus, you spoke your mind. Or, more accurately, whined your mind.

“Can't you fuck me? Please, Heizou?” The sheer rashness you filled his name with flustered you, and you struggled to comprehend he was capable of turning you into a pleading, begging, whimpering, faltering, pathetic mess. But then again, you're fully used to it.

The groan your husband issued in response was deep and worked-up. He yearned, more than anything, to grab you by your damp hips and slam you down his length at a pace that'll bruise you from the inside, swallow each outcry you give him, and keep it sacred in his lungs. Stimulate you until your hot tears leak into the shower water racing down the curve of your cheek, but he digested that yearning.

Today, he wanted to be gentle with you. He means to worship the body that's offered up to him so generously whenever you unite in acts of intimacy. He wished to deify you— to prove to you how pure of a goddess you truly are to him.

“I'm afraid that if I fuck you,” Heizou let out a stuttered groan, his dick hardening between your thighs. “We won't be leaving this shower until noon.” He panted and you know he's telling you the truth. If this had been going down on any other day, you'd have gladly accepted that offer. “So, no. However...”

He lowered himself upon his knees, snaking his palms around the backsides of your thighs. In no time, he flung your legs over his shoulders with zero difficulty, keeping you pressed against the cool wall and readjusting his position in order to gain better access to your sex.

In response, your hands dug into his burgundy hair, seeking support in this position he placed you in. His fingers sprawled out over your hips for stability, and he aligned his mouth with your sopping, aching cunt.

Wasting no more time, his tongue made electrifying contact with your heat and parted your folds. A yelp slipped from your mouth, and you're overwhelmed by the friction he's spreading across your center. It roused a stirring within the pit of your stomach that you cannot, by any means, allay.

First, he merely glided his tongue along your slit to prep and work you open, yet soon enough, his lips hungrily closed around your sensitive clit. Once he started sucking upon that sensitive bud, you tilted your head back, launching it against the wall and lightly rutting your hips against Heizou’s mouth with all sorts of whines and moans escaping you.

It should be forbidden to feel this fucking good, you pondered since you've come closer to heaven more than you can count with your husband. There was just something about him— something that transcended your ability to comprehend but lured you in magnetically, nonetheless.

His tongue swept and worked your clit like it was the only thing it knows how to do, and you reveled in the sensations branching out throughout your frame. Your eyelids fluttered, your mouth gaped with threads of sighs of pleasure leaking out of it, and your torso and arms erupted in beady goosebumps— even though the water pouring down upon you was a degree shy of scorching.

You're heaving all over and struggling to claw onto the last shreds of sanity you're left with. Heizou withdrew them from you with each forceful flick of his tongue. His mind was dimmed with the taste of you that filled it, gathered in a thick, tangy cloud, causing his hardened cock to give helpless twitches at each moan and spasm you awarded him with.

You're close to the point where you'd offer your life up in exchange for the incoming orgasm, the raging fervor buried within your depths setting your body ablaze. Heizou was more than aware of how close you'd grown to him. Your heart has sold you out to him so brashly, and as your thighs clasped shut around his head with agitated anticipation, he channeled a guttural groan into your heat.

It did you more favors than you expected it to, bliss bursting in the pit of your stomach at once as he continued bobbing his head and simultaneously lapping away at your clit to lead you through the sudden orgasm. Your muscles tensed up, your core pulsating against your husband’s skillful mouth.

He swallowed each throb, each flutter, each thump, and God, does it sate him. If it were up to him, he'd have you coming on his face until the end of time. It could seriously send him over the edge alone— and before he knew it himself, it did.

Once you're clambering down your overwhelming high, he desperately spilled onto his own stomach, siphoning broken-up moans into your heat, his eyes closed taking in every drop of your white fluid.

Your thighs were stiffly clenched as his fingertips twitched upon them with the dawn of his orgasm, nails digging into your sensitive flesh. His chest swelled with force. Words fail to describe the shock you're taken over by, however arousing the situation translated to.

Hands still securely tangled in his hair, you massaged his scalp. “Ohh, Heizou...” you whispered your husband’s name, starstruck.

You're not sure you can come up with a better response to the ongoing, thus you simply marveled at the aroused detective: flushed, exhausted, wallowing in his high whilst still nuzzled against you. Once his orgasm started wearing off, the groaning against your center ceased, but it's nevertheless obvious that he was trying to savor every last bit of bliss he could get before it slipped away from him entirely.

At the same time, you're elevated to a degree of astonishment that robbed you of all ability to respond to the outer world, and at this moment, all you knew was you and him. And the fact he just came from solely eating you out.

In no time, Heizou gently lifted your thighs from his shoulders, setting you down on the wet ground with utmost care. His knees yielded to a crackle as he stood up, pain briskly dashing through his frame. He ignored it.

Instead, he rose to your level, cupped your hot face, and invited you into a soft, loving kiss. Your flavor played on his tongue so fervently, and he shared it with you— an offer you cannot ever refuse. He kissed you deeply, cordially, sweetly.

You’re loved, and what's more, loved by him.

But you're also late. And still need to shower.

Therefore, your palms landed flat upon his chest. You proceeded to gently push him away, and unfortunately break the kiss much to his disappointment.

“Now I really need to get ready.” you panted, a blush playing on your face. Even though Heizou couldn’t see it, he filtered it through your tone. By now, you've already taken hold of your body wash and spurted some of it into your hand.

Once you began spreading it over your glistening skin in languid, thorough motions, he delivered you his usual mischievous expression.

“Need any help with that?” he inquired and who are you to say no?

The next few minutes were spent with Heizou posing somewhat of a help, rendering assistance with washing your body, but also diluting the deed with tender kisses and not-so-innocent caresses.

You were definitely late to brunch by the time you were out of the shower, and the very moment you haphazardly wrapped a fuzzy mint towel around your figure— which soaked in the soapy droplets of water trickling down your body— you're already racing across the house towards the ringing telephone.

It laid upon the front counter of the kitchen, and as you took the handset, you were faced with an enraged Sango.

Fuck.

You cursed in your mind, preparing for the worse.

Sango’s voice spilled out of the speaker at once, calling out your name with a harsh undertone. You're stung by guilt the second you hear it, toying with excuse variations within your head as her words flew on in that grainy fashion everyone's familiar with.

“[Name], where are you? Look if anything happened, emergency or not, you have to call me immediately. I’m worried sick if something might have happened to you! You know what, I should drop by your house.”

“W-wait no! I’m fine really! I’m going to be a bit late so you don’t have to come here.” You assured, but Sango wasn’t taking any of it.

“Look, if Shikanoin— er, Heizou’s doing horrible things to you, I won’t let him get away with it! He’s—“

The call was cut off and you felt a presence ghosting behind you, and it didn’t take you too long to notice the handheld in your palm had disappeared. Once it came to a conclusion, you spun around, only to perceive him standing before you, a towel loosely tied around his hips and wet strips of hair dropping into his beautiful face.

What's more: Your husband was taking your call with a smirk on his face.

“Mrs. Shikanoin is unable to attend your brunch today. Hm? She’s sick, that's why she woke up late.” He glanced at you and seeing your disbelief reaction was enough to gauge out a chuckle from him. “Now now, I’m being a caring husband, that's all. I don’t want to see my wife pass out and get hurt when she’s out sick.”

He felt no remorse at all. That smirk was enough to say everything. The cocky, rapacious asshole Heizou sometimes is...

Heizou ended the call and the termination of plans with someone you care about pained you. You don’t know how you would face Sango and explain everything to her.

“Well, then,” your husband dragged the words out with mischief smoldering in his voice, “guess you're all mine for today, hm?”

[novasdarling]

This is my last idea I swear. We’ve also seen Chrollo and Feitan when their significant other escapes, what about Phinks?

He is both easy and hard to deal with. See his anger gets him acting out before he can think. BUT he is also easy to manipulate with some sweet words and intimacy.

I'm Sorry

TW: Kidnapping Mentioned, Dubcon, Though gender/sex not really mentioned I did write with a female reader in mind, A Chase scene/predator&prey

The roads weren’t safe, the visibility was too high on them. It would be the first place he would look when he came home to an empty house. Phinks would be pissed, you were supposed to stay inside when he was gone. Only allowed out during the day to tend to the garden he had built for you. That was all, you certainly weren't allowed out into the woods. So far away from home and having no intentions of returning to your captor. If you didn't succeed, you weren't sure how he'd react.

It felt like you had been walking for hours, your feet sore and ready to give out. The sky was already fading, the sun setting as the moon became clearer. He would be home soon if he hadn't already arrived. You needed to distance yourself as much as you could before he started his hunt after you. Actually, give yourself as much of a chance you could get against a man like Phinks. Perhaps you could get to the other side of the forest, get to another cabin or a small town you know was on the Northern side of the woods. The only issue was you weren't sure you were heading North, you think you remember Phinks mentioning the lake was in the South so you headed away from there. Hoping you remembered the directions right. Your memory was your only chance to get away right now.  

The option of staying in the woods was growing thinner by the minute. There would be no light soon, no way to properly see where you were going. It would push you towards the road in order to see. Or another option would be to find somewhere to hide and sleep till daylight. Each option offered benefits and drawbacks. Phinks would probably look on the roads first. Then when he didn’t find you he would search the woods. It would be too obvious to go towards the roads first. The best option was to stay in the forest. As you found a tree to lay under and rest, you hoped he would think you would go for the obvious option. It was the only way you would have any chance of getting away from him.

Phinks had come home late that night. Taking longer with the troupe than he originally thought. He hoped you didn't wait up for him, he had some plans for tomorrow and you would need your sleep. Pulling into the lane by the house he was stunned when he saw all the lights out. Not one window was illuminated. Sure he was late, but typically you kept a hallway or bathroom light on. It was odd to see the house completely dark like this. Phinks began to worry, this difference in behaviour couldn’t mean anything good, and he was right. As he ran into the house, searching every room for you. Every room he didn’t find you in, worried him further. When he walked through the last room, his heart shanked. You weren't there and no matter how many times he called your name and shouted threats. You were still nowhere to be found. You were truly gone, nowhere in the house. Not even hiding from him like you did occasionally. His usual threats weren't pulling you out. You were gone. 

Running out of the house Phinks screamed your name. Stupidly pleading for you to come out wherever you were. It was no use, you wouldn’t appear. You were gone, he knew that, but now the question of where did you go? There wasn’t a town for a few kilometres, that would be a good place to run to. Hopping into the car, ready to head out to you, he paused. Sure, the road was the best bet, there was light and chances are someone would see you and take pity. Yet, something in his mind told him you wouldn’t pick that route. It was too obvious. Looking towards the woods, he guessed you would go in that direction. Though harder, it was safer when it came to your hiding ability. There were a number of areas you could hide from him to buy you more time. He both hated and admired you for being so smart. Getting out of the car he headed towards the woods. Hoping to find you before the morning light. 

It wasn’t long until he found hints of you, hair caught on low branches, footsteps. He was never a tracker, but fortunately, his prey didn’t know much about hiding their tracks. All leading towards to you. Fast asleep under a tree, using fallen branches and bushes to shelter you. If he wasn’t so irritated, he would take some time to admire your sleeping form. Looking so peaceful even when you had caused so much distress to him. He took a moment to go over what he should do. Wake and berate you, let you know what you have done to him. How you drove him crazy with worry by not being home waiting for him like he always told you to. The pain you inflicted on him by running away was like nothing else. Phinks always told you running away was the worse thing you could do to him. Was being with him so bad that you rather be out here, under a tree in the cold of the night than with him? He loved you, provided you with food, shelter, and gifts. Was he not enough? Phinks was his own worst enemy, riling himself up. You still hadn't opened up to him fully. Staying reserved around him, not openly seeking affection, but accepting most of his. He thought you were getting better, understanding why you were with him. Yet, as he watched you sleep under the tree, he realized he was wrong. You weren’t getting better. He still needed to work on you. Picking you up without waking you, he carried you home. Taking his time planning a suitable punishment for such crude behaviour. He allowed you outside during the day to tend to that garden he so kindly built. He gave you so many freedoms and tolerated all your little wishes. Many of the troupe weren’t so kind to their darlings. Some didn’t even let them leave the shared bedroom even after months of being together. Phinks was sweet and kind, he cared for you and did what was best for you. He wanted you happy and did his best to make it happen. Even after all that, you ran. You left him, basically spat in his face. Pushed his generosity aside for this little tantrum. It was just something he couldn’t forgive. You needed to be dealt with. 

It was morning by the time you woke up. The light shining in your eyes forcing you awake. You would think the leaves and branches from the tree tops would do better at filtering the light. It took you a moment to realize why you had slept so well. You weren't on the rocky ground anymore. No, now you were in the bed you shared with that man. Shooting up, you looked around. Expecting to see him there somewhere. Peering down at you, holding you down, but no. He wasn’t in the room. Your options were limited, either go and find him and face his wrath or wait and face his wrath. Either way, you would have to deal with his anger. After waiting a few minutes, you decided to get up. It would be better to get it over with. To find out what he was going to do to you. You had never run away before. Disobeyed his orders a few times sure, especially in the beginning. Leading to you getting tied up, privileges stripped, and locked in a room while you thrashed and yelled for an hour or two to calm you down. He had never laid a hand on you unless it was to restrain you. Never willingly harming you physically, but what if this was what made him snap? He had kidnapped you, kept you locked up. Physical violence wasn’t far off. Heading towards the door you tried to prepare yourself, he wouldn’t kill you. He always talked about how he loved you and you two were meant to be. It was clear Phinks was crazy, but not kill-the-person-you-loved-crazy. 

You prepared yourself for the worse, but your blood ran cold as the handle refused to turn. Trying again, but it was still locked. He had trapped you in the bedroom. Shaking and slamming the door did nothing, it was truly locked. He had found you and brought you back only to lock you up in the bedroom. This couldn’t be good. Even during the early days, he let you roam around the house, only confining you in rooms when he left for missions or went to the nearest town for a grocery run. Him locking you away wasn’t a good sign. 

“Phinks!” You pounded on the door, hoping he was still here. That he didn’t leave you locked up to die. “Phinks! Please!” 

After pounding and kicking the door, there was noise coming from the other side. Movement heading towards you. He was still here, he hadn't left you to die. But as each step got closer, you began to think perhaps him being here wasn’t such a good option either. Phinks had made it clear running away was the worst you could do to him. It was something he just couldn’t tolerate. As he made his way through the door, the realization of what you had done hit. You broke his most important rule. As he shoved the door open, almost breaking it. You realized you were right, running away was a mistake. Crawling back on the bed, moving backwards trying to distance yourself from him. When he was angry, he tended to act without thinking about things fully. 

“Phinks I’m sorry, I-” 

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it.” He was standing at the end of the bed. Peering down at you. “I leave you alone for a day, a day! I trust you enough to be able to go outside and play with that little garden of yours. I trusted you.” 

“I know, I don’t know-” 

“I said shut up! You don’t get to beg and plead after what you did. Apologize after you hurt me. It’s clear you don't fucking mean it.” 

You wanted to plead with him, to grant you mercy for your mistake. Even though you didn’t regret the act fully. You knew it was better to plead and cry and try to appeal to the little humanity he had with you. All there was left to do was curl up and cry as he berated you. Let him get his anger out on how foolish you were, how cruel you could be to him. There was no getting away from him now.  

Phinks took his time yelling at you, detailing how you disappointed him. How hurt he was by all of this. He thought you were better, that you liked being here. Liked being with him, but it turns out he was wrong. He had been too soft on you, too kind when you hadn't done the same with him. Somehow, he was making you feel bad, that you had taken his kindness for granted even though he had kidnapped you.  

“Now the question is what to do with you?” Phinks was pacing back and forth, keeping his eyes on you. “I can’t trust you to be alone, that’s clear. Don’t even know if I can trust you outside anymore.” 

“You-” He stopped pacing to stare at you. Shutting you up right away. 

“Good, seems like you can learn.” 

Phinks took a deep breath before taking a seat on the bed. Getting as close to you as he could while still giving you space. You weren't sure if that space was for you, or for him. Giving himself space so he hurt you. You looked at him, waiting for him to say something. To tell you what his plans were. What exactly your punishment was going to be. 

“It’s hard to be mad at you.” He breathed out, giving you the softest look he had since this argument began.

“I’m sorry” You sat up, crawling towards him. Hoping to appease to his softer side. You could lie your way out of this if you tried hard enough. “I feel so bad, I just got scared being alone and ran. I didn’t even know where to go. I just ran without a plan.” Rubbing his cheek and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t like being alone, I just got scared and ran. It was stupid and I can't tell you how sorry I am.” 

Crawling into his lap to see his face better. Peppering kisses along his jaw, telling him over and over how sorry you were. How much you loved him, how stupid you were. Hoping to win his favour. As you continued, you could see him smiling. Humming at every kiss you gave him. He was enjoying this, there was a chance you could really convince him you didn’t want to get away. That you made a mistake you regret. 

"You weren't trying to get away from me?"

"No I wasn't, I could never. I was just scared of being alone."

“And you’re sorry?” 

“Yes, I am. I wish I stayed like you said to. I started to regret my choice, but it was too late. It was too dark and I wasn’t sure which way was home. I thought if I waited till morning, I could find my way back.” It was a lie, but Phinks always thought the best of you. You hoped that hadn't stopped. 

“That’s why you were sleeping?” 

“Yes, I wanted to go back, but couldn’t.” 

“Oh babe, you must have been so scared.” 

Phinks smiled at you. He was back, back to thinking so little of you that you just weren't able to build up the courage to run. He was buying your story, but you could tell he was still mad, still holding back from trusting you fully. 

“Let me show you how sorry I am, please.” 

You took his silence as confirmation to continue. Pressing yourself closer to him, letting your lips drift to his. He happily accepted your kiss. Letting you take the lead, proving to him how much he meant to you. Although intimacy wasn’t new between you two, you had never taken the lead before. This was all new territory, a part of you was repulsed by being with your captor. Yet, you continued on, hoping he wouldn’t demand more than a kiss and some touches. But as he placed his hands on your hips to keep you in place. Letting you know, he wanted more than just kisses. 

[multifandomfanficss]

More Than I’m Willing To Lose Part 2

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Featuring platonic!11th Street Kids

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Prompt: Adrian takes care of you after the incident. This is Part 2 for More Than I’m Willing To Lose.

Warnings: panic, meltdowns, hitting yourself and pulling your own hair during a meltdown, gun violence, hospitals, non-sexual nudity, non-sexual showering with another person, wound care, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language

A/N: Hi guys! I meant to post this yesterday, but forgot. I’ve never been on a weekly posting schedule before. Super exciting! I hope you enjoy the chapter and the rest of the series! ❤️🧜‍♂️❤️

It wasn’t long before you were discharged from the hospital. Adrian had spent as much time with you as possible, occasionally stepping out for a short shift at Fennel Fields. The others took turns hanging out with you in the four hours a day he was gone. He had originally planned on taking time off, but you wouldn’t let him. You knew he needed the money and that it wasn’t healthy for him to spend all of his time awake or asleep in a hospital. He rationalized going to work by promising to take off time when you were discharged so he could help you get readjusted. Truth be told the nights he was gone for a couple hours were your favorite. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss him. It was the opposite actually, but despite missing him you were always excited when he brought you food after his shift. Italian food was your favorite and you were sick of hospital food.

On one particular afternoon you were missing Adrian a little more than usual.

“I know that look.” Adebayo laughed.

“What look?!” You asked.

“You miss Adrian.” She gives an exaggerated sigh.

“Do not!” You protest, but the deep red coming to your cheeks tells a different story. The tv was on and you had been channel surfing until you came upon a channel playing Fargo reruns. It was very obvious who you were thinking of.

“He’s a little interesting…but sweet.” She smiled. “I can understand why you like him.” She says after a short pause.

“I never said-“

“I could just tell. Harcourt and I have been talking about it over the past few days. We think he likes you too.” She cuts you off. You decide to sit silently on that information. Your mind drifts back to your first night in the hospital when you could have sworn you heard Adrian say he loved you. You were on some heavy pain meds and you were falling asleep, so you had forgotten about it until now and you weren’t sure it even happened. That’s going to be the only thing in your head for a while.

Not too long after that you hear a knock at the door. You look up to see Adrian half dressed in his uniform. His apron and hat are missing, but he’s still in his red shirt and black pants. He has a brown paper bag in his hand and the smell of Italian food is radiating from the hallway. Your face immediately lights up.

“I brought your favorite.” He smiles.

“And mozzarella sticks?” Adebayo asks.

“And mozzarella sticks.” He confirms. Leota pumps her fists in the air with excitement and you laugh.

“I missed the beginning of Fargo?” Adrian whines turning his head to the tv.

“Sit down. I’ll restart it. The hospital has direct tv.” You say, patting the bed. He settled into the bed next to you. With Adebayo in the chair, he really had no other place to sit, but neither of you minded. You had become like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together since the night you arrived at the hospital. While Adrian’s eyes were glued to the tv, you couldn’t help, but notice Ad’s giving you a mischievous look.

In the next few days you were discharged. Adrian had the day off from Fennel Fields and Harcourt excused him from the team meeting, so he could help you. He would be helping you a lot after your discharge. You were currently sat in the passenger seat of his Sebring. Your arm was in a sling, but aside from that you were feeling a little bit of normalcy for the first time in forever with your window down and Adrian’s music coming from the speakers. The two of you were quietly singing along to the music as he drove along the familiar streets of your neighborhood. By the time he had gotten to your block you were done singing. You stared down the street at your apartment. You hadn’t noticed Adrian had stopped singing either until he grabbed your hand. You lightly jumped, a little startled by the sensation, but eased into the feeling of his warm hands.

“You’re shaking. Are you okay?” He asks hesitantly, pulling over in front of your building. You take a deep breath and give him a slow nod. He gives you a small smile, putting the car in park. “Look, I know I’m not always the best at knowing what people are thinking, but if any of this is too much for you, just let me know.” He says, trying to make eye contact with you. You can’t peel your eyes away from the place in front of your apartment where you were shot. The blood is gone. If you didn’t know better, if you were just passing by on the street, you would assume nothing had ever happened. You slowly nod again. “We can just sit here for a minute if that’s what you need?” Adrian asks hesitantly.

“I want to go inside.” You say quietly.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I want to go inside, but I can’t walk up the steps by myself.” You admit shyly.

“You don’t have to. I’m going to be with you every step of the way.” He assures you. He slowly gets out of the car and walks to the passenger door. He opens it for you and undoes your seatbelt. He then holds out his hand for you to take. “Whenever you’re ready.” He says, patiently. Every part of your body feels hyper sensitive, like all of your senses are on fire. You can feel the muscles flex in Adrian’s arm as he pulls you up. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Your legs feel wobbly as your feet slap against the hard concrete. As you approach the steps to your building you grip Adrian tighter. He pulls you protectively into his side. You think you can faintly hear him talking, but you can’t process what he’s saying. You are however aware of the sounds of the key scraping inside the lock as Adrian lets you into your apartment on the second floor. After Jack had stolen your keys, Harcourt and Economos had come by the replace the locks. You take one more step and you’re in your apartment. Once you’re inside you look at the posters of your favorite shows and movies and try to forget that Jack had even set foot in the space. This was your safe place and you would make it that way again. Harcourt had offered to get you a place in the building where she was living, but you refused. You didn’t want this asshole to take your home away from you. You would make it yours again.

As soon as you walked into your bedroom and carefully flopped onto your bed, you felt a rush of comfort splash over you; like waves rolling over your body at the beach on a hot summer day. Staring at the familiar ceiling brought you peace. You traced the stars and planets on your ceiling with your eyes. You hadn’t put them there and they had long since been painted over by someone, most likely your landlord, but they were your favorite part of your apartment. The plastic glow in the dark stars and planets covered by white paint had probably been there long before you moved in and they would be there long after.

It was nice to be in clothes you felt comfortable in again. The hospital gown was getting old and the feeling of your couch underneath your body felt so familiar and comforting. You were currently watching Little Shop of Horrors with Adrian and your apartment smelt of slightly burnt popcorn and butter because Adrian was trying to make sure every kernel popped and in the process burnt some of the earlier pieces to pop out of the batch. You were currently waiting for Chris to show up with the beer he promised to bring.

“I don’t understand how he fucked up this badly. He could have easily gotten away with that murder. He’s such a bad lier.” Adrian sighs.

“No offense, but you are like the worst lier I’ve ever met.” You laugh.

“I am not!” He argues.

“No, you are. I don’t know how you haven’t been caught yet.” You continue to laugh.

“I haven’t been caught because I’m the second best superhero in town!” He declares.

“Honey, you’re one of only two suited superheroes in town.” You blush, realizing you just called him honey.

“That we know of.” He says, lips tight in a pout, desperately reaching to win this argument. You open your mouth to respond when suddenly the power goes out. You feel yourself stop breathing. Adrian stands up and gets off the couch. You reach out in the darkness desperately trying to grab for him. He must barely see you because he leans into your grasp. He crouches down to your level, placing your hand on his face.

“I’m here. I’m just going to look outside. Just stay here, okay?” He says. You let out a soft whimper, unable to form words. “I’m not even going to leave the room. I’m just going to look out the window.” Adrian releases your hand, standing up again, walking towards the living room window that faces the front of your building. You find a little peace when his body is illuminated by the moonlight. You try to hold back tears and breathe evenly. Adrian quickly moves towards you as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. He’s taking something out of the waste band of his jeans. He brings you to the corner of the room. You hear a click and you want to immediately retreat, but there’s nowhere to go. You start to hyperventilate.

“I need you to stay in the corner and shoot anyone who walks through that door that isn’t me.” Adrian says quickly.

“I-I can’t-“

“Yes, you can. You have to.” Adrian cuts you off.

“I don’t know how to use it.” You’re looking for any excuse to not take the gun.

“The safety is off and there’s plenty of bullets for if you miss the first time. Aim for the head or the-“

“Adrian, I can’t.” It was your turn to cut him off.

“Why not?” He asks. The two of your are speaking a mile a minute.

“I can’t do it. I can’t. I never want to see a gun again. Please don’t make me take that.” You beg him.

“I’m sorry, but you need to take this.” He says. Shoving the weapon in your hands.

“Please don’t leave me.” You beg through sobs that you started, but are unable to stop.

“I have to run downstairs for just a minute. I promise I’ll be right back, but I need you to promise you’ll stay in this corner and you’ll shoot anything that moves.” He pleads with you. You nod through your sobs. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” He says before running out the door.

You stand in the corner for what feels like the longest moment of your life. It feels like an hour although you’re sure it’s only been a few minutes. You hear gunshots outside and your heart stops. After a little while you start to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. You don’t recognize the heaviness of the boot and the foot pattern to be Adrian. You wait to be sure until a silhouette comes into the doorframe and it’s taller and wider than Adrian. With the lights still out, you’re able to attack the intruder before they even recognize you’re in the room. You follow Adrian’s instructions and pull the trigger.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?! It’s Chris!” The voice yells. You freeze in your tracks. Suddenly the lights come back on and you’re met face to face with Chris who is now holding his arm, bleeding. Luckily you had only grazed him. You hear footsteps running up the stairs.

“I found the breaker!” Adrian calls from down the hall.

“I don’t give a shit about the breaker, they shot me!” Chris continues to yell as Adrian enters the room. You stay frozen, staring down at the gun.

“Sorry. I told them to shoot anyone that wasn’t me.” Adrian says.

“You couldn’t have warned me?!” Chris complains.

“You didn’t ask.” Adrian shrugs, walking over to you slowly. You can see Chris’ look of annoyance, but you don’t truly process it. Adrian takes in your posture and facial expressions, analyzing you, before slowly placing his hand over the barrel of the gun. Your hand is gripping it so tightly that your knuckles have turned white. “I’ve got it. Just let go. That’s it.” Adrian says softly as you slowly release the gun. When it’s out of your hand and Adrian passes it off to Chris, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, as you fall forward into Adrian’s arms. You feel your body go limp against his as you start to sob. You drag him to the ground with you. He shushes you, rubbing circles into your back.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“You did nothing wrong. You did exactly what I told you to. I’m so proud of you.” Adrian smiles down at you. You continue to cry into his arms.

“He’s gone. He made a run for it when we started shooting at him. We tried to catch him, but we weren’t fast enough.” Chris tells you. You know this is supposed to be in an effort to make you feel better, but it only makes you feel worse.

You try to keep your body from shaking violently. You wiggle around in Adrian’s arms. He catches on to your attempt to self sooth and he sways with you. You pull your arm that is not in the sling out from under his and start to pound into your head and pull at your hair. You try to hold back screams. He carefully unwinds your fingers from your hair and hugs you tighter to keep you from hurting yourself. You scream into his chest.

“I’m sorry. It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now. I’m never gonna let him hurt you again. I’m here. I’m here.” Adrian repeats. Chris leaves the room to call Harcourt to give her an update. After a while your sobbing subsides, as you continue to rock back and fourth slowly in Adrian’s arms. “You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong.” He continues to compliment and reassure you. He places a kiss on your forehead. The warmth of his lips spreads across your whole body. It helps bring you to a calm enough state to speak.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” You let out a quiet, weak sentence.

“Do you want to sleep at my place tonight?” He asks. You nod, but make no effort to get up to leave. Adrian slowly helps you stand and he drags you to your room to sit on your bed while he packs a bag for you. You assume you will be gone for more than one night, as he packs you a bag of several days worth of clothes. He wraps your favorite blanket around your body, and slings the bag of clothes over his shoulder. He then picks up your favorite pillow in one hand and wraps an arm around you with his free hand. You hold onto him tight as the three of you make the trip outside to pile into the Sebring. You hold your breath until Adrian locks your seatbelt in place and drives far enough that your apartment is out of view. Chris is still on the phone updating Harcourt. It was late enough. Tonight she would let you rest, but tomorrow she was going to come to Adrian’s to crack down and close this fucking case.

First stop was to drop off Chris. The guys decided that tonight probably wasn’t the best night for beer and movies. After stopping at the trailer you made your way back to Adrian’s place. You stayed silent the entire time and for the first time in his life Adrian didn’t have much to say either.

“I want you to teach me how to shoot.” You say quietly, breaking the silence. Your voice is dead as you stare off through the window.

“What? I thought you were afraid of guns.” Adrian questions.

“I don’t know what I’m not afraid of at this point, but the next time I see that bastard I’m blowing his fucking brains out.” You inform him.

“Wait a second. You used to be so anti-killing. That was supposed to be my job. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re finally coming to your senses on the topic of killing bad people and this dude totally needs to be killed, this just isn’t like you.” He rambles.

“I don’t even know who me is anymore. He took that away from me.” You let your voice trail off, as you get choked up again. Adrian looks at you, not quite knowing what to say. The truth is he wishes he could say every nice thought he’s ever had about you, but he doesn’t want to freak you out. He doubts you feel the same about him and after getting shot by your first date since he met you a year ago, he doesn’t really think you’re in the mood. After all Chris had spent the entire past year saying you were so far out of his league that it was funny. You wish you knew all of this. You would have proved Chris wrong.

Adrian walks around to your side of the car, opening the door for you. He lets you into his home. You walk around like a zombie with a blank stare, not particularly looking at anything, just sort of disassociating. He takes your belongings and brings them down the hallway to what you assume is his bedroom.

“What do you want to do now?” Adrian asks. You shrug, avoiding his stare.

“Do you want to shower and change into something more comfortable?” He asks. You think about a shower and it’s honestly the best thing you can imagine right now. You nod, speaking feeling like a chore. He pushes you towards the bathroom and starts the water for you. He places his hand inside until the water is the perfect temperature. He turns to leave the room, but you stop him. You call his name softly. He turns around and hums in response.

“Can you help me?” You ask, pointing to your sling. He gulps and nods. You think you see a blush quickly approaching his cheeks, but you’re too numb to care at the moment. He helps you take off your sling. He then places his hands at the hem of your shirt.

“If you’re uncomfortable, just let me know and I’ll stop and leave the room.” He says. You lock eyes with him, trying to keep tears at bay and nod. You hadn’t felt this safe with a man in so many years, you couldn’t even remember. It was especially jarring after that ‘date’. He slips your shirt off of your body, pausing to take a look at your wound. “I’m going to have to redress your shoulder after you shower.” He tells you. You nod again, too tired for words. He then kneels to take off your shoes and socks. He then slides your jeans down your legs. With any other man this would be awkward. It would feel oddly sexually charged. You wouldn’t feel safe. With Adrian you know he would never do anything to hurt you. You know he’d respect you and your body and never take advantage of you. That’s why you take your next step.

He holds out his hands to help you step with wobbly legs into the shower. When he goes to leave the bathroom, you reach out your hand to tug at his.

“Can you…” You’re just so tired of talking. You try to pull him into the shower with you.

“You want me to join you?” He asks, a nervous edge to his voice. You nod.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone in here with my thoughts.” You tell him, honestly. He gives you a sad smile before stripping down to his boxers and stepping into the shower behind you. Despite being naked in a shower with the man you’ve had a crush on for a year, you feel no need to make a move. You’re exhausted and scared and you just need his comfort right now. You hear a bottle opening and the squeezing of shampoo into Adrian’s hands. He begins to massage the shampoo into your hair. He’s so gentle and the way his finger nails scratch across your scalp feels euphoric. You feel like a rag doll, as Adrian moves your body in every which way to clean it. You don’t feel invaded. You feel quite the opposite, like you’re being well taken care of. His hands are soft and he smells incredible. You smile to yourself thinking you’ll smell like him too after using his soap. He hums to you as he washes you. It’s odd to think someone who kills people at night can be so gentle and loving.

After you shower he cleans and redresses your wound. He does all of this wordlessly. You don’t think you’ve ever heard Adrian so quiet. You hiss at the pain as he touches your wound to clean it.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.” He instructs you.

“You could never hurt me.” You smile up at him.

“I definitely could.” He says, missing the point. You stare off into space trying to ignore his hands against your shoulder.

“Better?” He asks after your wound is covered again. You look up into his eyes and nod slowly. You get lost in his eyes, staring at each other. His green eyes seem to put you in a trance. Your faces are even, as the counter you’re sitting on makes you taller. Adrian is standing between your parted legs to have better access to your wound. You’re so close you can feel his breath on your skin. You think you might be drifting closer. You want to kiss him so badly. You think you might before Adrian turns his head away at the last second. A blush comes to both your cheeks. “I bet you’re tired. We should get you set up in my room. I’ll take the couch.” He says before exiting the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before following him.

You take a minute to yourself before walking into his bedroom to see a shirt and a pair of boxers laid out on the bed. He’s already changed, so you assume they’re for you.

“When I packed your bag I forgot to grab something for you to sleep in. Sorry.” He admits. You blush. That wasn’t the truth, but you didn’t need to know that. He hoped you wouldn’t catch onto the fact that he just wanted to see you safe, warm, and comfortable in his clothes.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind wearing your clothes.” You say quietly. The shirt was black, its design faded and the fabric was starting to grow pilly. This was obviously a very well loved shirt. You had seen Adrian wear it from time to time when he wasn’t in the Vigilante suit, which you saw him in the majority of the time. At one point you commented on how much you liked it. You remember him telling you it was one of his favorite shirts. What you didn’t know was that this is his absolute favorite shirt, his comfort shirt, the shirt he practically lives in when it is clean. Despite just seeing you naked, Adrian leaves the room for you to drop your towel and change. When he comes back in, he has a glass of ice water in his hands. You gladly take it. You gulp it down quickly, not realizing how thirsty you were. It’s probably from all of the crying. When you hand him back the glass he asks if you would like another. You politely decline.

“You should get some sleep.” He says, slowly backing out of the doorway.

“Are you sure you want me to sleep in your bed? I don’t want to kick you out.” You ask.

“Pshh of course. It’s nothing.” He says, trying to make light of sleeping on the couch.

“Well, nonetheless it means a lot.” You smile at him. You lay down on the bed before he flicks out the light and goes to shut the door. Your anxiety quickly grows in the dark, unfamiliar room.

“Wait!” You catch his attention. He opens the door and you watch the light cascade in again from the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks.

“Can you uh…” you drift off.

“Do you want me to lay with you again, like I did in the hospital?” He asks. You nod, sheepishly. “Uh- yeah.” Adrian nods, smiling. “I can do that.” He affirms, as he gets under the covers with you. At first Adrian is a little stiff. This is admittedly a weird situation. You’re not filled with all of the adrenaline that you were the first time. It takes a minute before you decide to place your head against his chest. He shifts awkwardly before putting his arm around you and pulling you tightly to his body. After you fall into a rhythm and it’s clear what the other person wants, you feel perfectly pressed together like two puzzle pieces. Adrian starts drawing circles on your arm. Between the steady motion, his heartbeat, and the rising and falling of his chest, you’re soothed to sleep. You feel him press a kiss to your forehead as you drift off.

[halfmoth-halfman]

I sincerely hope we get to see a new form of Canary after all this carnage. Like she went through hell, scraped out of there barely alive, barely together, and on the other side of this she finds this special kind of confidence. A confidence that lets her stand on her own without feeling the need to run from Graves. It'd be the kind of confidence that burns cities down, make her horrible father grin from the grave, have Price and co. looking at her in pure disbelief.

But I also hope she doesn't. As much as I love that kind of post trauma transformation, I feel Canary's path takes her to rescued animal mentality. She's grateful but she is oh so skittish. She'll run if you get too close too quick. Price won't be able to comfort her through touch (that's gone, buddy.) It's going to be sitting in silence, slowly reacclimating to not living in fight or flight, learning to rewire and trust her mind and her body again. Ptsd is a complex and tricky bitch. It's gonna rock everyone's world.

I loved the coat scene. It was so tragically beautiful in the depiction of that pure panic that comes from the fear of an abuser. It felt real and authentic. I always find panic attacks the hardest to write/read because they're so easy to get slightly wrong, and this was perfectly done. I love that Ghost is the one who got her in that moment. He's the perfect one to see it for what it is and rescue her from that spiraling pit.

This fic is a hard read only because of how heavy it gets. Yet, it's that very heaviness that pulls you in and makes you stay. It isn't self-indulgent in these dark themes. Each is used carefully and purposefully to create a world in which your readers feel their chests aching with each disaster that strikes Canary. You've gotta be ready to walk into this one, and I appreciate how thoughtful your warnings are before each chapter. I felt adequately prepared without anything being spoiled.

I didn't intend to write so much, but your fic has plagued me since I read it all in one sitting the other night. There are so many layers to it that I enjoy watching reveal themselves with each new event. I'm genuinely excited to see what happens next. Canary has been severely injured. I have a feeling there is going to be some temporary mobility issues/needing help frequently that is going to bring a lot of this trauma to the forefront right away.

there's only so much i can say without going into spoiler territory, but we'll def get a different canary after this. i feel like it's a combination of the two, she's confident and ready to burn everything to the ground when it comes to graves and makarov, but in private, when she's alone or with the 141, a lot more of that skittishness and paranoia comes out.

we've seen that touch is like the go-to form of comfort for a lot of the 141 so there's going to be difficulty navigating how to comfort her when she doesn't want to be touched. it's gonna be a long and complex journey for everyone involved, esp canary because there's things that she probably didn't even realize have affected her but now will come to the forefront because she's in a much more relaxed environment.

the coat scene was one of the first scenes i had fully planned out for the series! i wasn't fully sure who was going to be the one to find her (originally it was valeria and farah) but i knew it'd be a moment where canary was so panicked that it wouldn't matter how scared she was of the 141 member that found her, she just needed to get the coat fixed because graves and makarov being mad at her was worse than anything the 141 could do to her. in the end, it just felt right that ghost would be the one to find her, since he was the one who accused her in the first place. it's a very "here's the direct consequences of your actions" moment for him.

i get what you mean about panic attacks in fics, but i know they're hard to nail down since everyone can have different experiences with them. most of the panic attack scenes in designer dress i pull from my own experiences and things i've felt with my own anxiety.

i knew when i started doing a mob!au that there were going to be some dark themes since that's very common in this genre, but i tried/am trying to make sure it's not a dark fic if that makes sense? i, myself, am very sensitive to certain triggers so i always try to make sure i give the proper warnings for every chapter and am always open if anyone needs something tagged that i may have missed (within reason ofc)

i appreciate you going into so much detail here omg, this is very thoughtful and so sweet. things are def going to be difficult for canary going forward, but there's a more hopeful vibe to it—she's healing and getting therapy and relearning how to trust again which won't be easy but will be better for her in the end.

[nekoannie-chan]

Misunderstood instructions

Title: Misunderstood instructions.

Ship: Steve Rogers & New!Avenger!Reader.

Word count: 421 words.

Square: I1 “Misunderstood.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve said the wrong directions, or maybe he didn’t.

Major Tags: Misunderstood, mission gone wrong.

Additional tags: This my entry to @cabottombingo Captain Bottom Bingo round 2. CABB2024.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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The city lights flickered as Steve and the team prepared for their most important mission to date. The tension in the operations room was palpable as the heroes reviewed plans and prepared for action.

That night, the team infiltrated a suspicious warehouse in the heart of the city. Steve was leading the operation, followed closely by you, the new agent who had joined less than a month ago. The mission was simple: infiltrate, disable the weapon, and capture the enemies. But things rarely went according to plan.

As you and Steve were walking into the warehouse, you and Steve found yourselves in the middle of a firefight. Gunshots echoed through the air, and lights flickered as you moved quickly for cover. Amid the confusion, a misunderstanding arose when you saw an armed individual who appeared to be aiming at Steve. Without hesitation, you made a quick decision and fired, neutralizing the attacker before he could reach Steve.

They then managed to get to the machine room and began to search for any information that would be useful to them, although you had understood otherwise, so you erased all the information from one of the USB sticks. As soon as Steve realized this, he became enraged, and they began to argue.

While they were arguing, the enemies took advantage of the confusion to activate the weapon, triggering a series of explosions that shook the warehouse.

The team rushed to evacuate the building. Steve approached you.

“Why did you do it?" Steve asked, extremely annoyed.

You looked at the floor and then tried to explain what had happened, but the words caught in your throat.

“I'm sorry. It was a mistake; I had understood that we had to get rid of all the information and evidence; that's what you explained, so I assumed."

Steve sighed. He always said it was a bad idea to accept more agents and personnel into the team, and maybe he had been right; they had just had a catastrophic result.

“Forget it. We can't afford mistakes like this," Steve said, his voice firm but with a hint of hatred in it.

Steve decided to conduct a thorough review of the mission to analyze what had happened and what they would do next, although it seemed like everything was going against him.

Maybe you should go back to your old organization; maybe you were wrong to have joined, although you still had another option, somehow, without anyone noticing, to take revenge for the humiliation they were putting you through.

[jackabelle73]

Oooh I am so happy to see your google docs wips! Can we get a snippet from the season 6 Lacey AU? ( and/ or Love and Happiness , the fic that brought me to you and our friendship🥰?)

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I already posted a snippet from the Lacey AU, so I'll give you a bit of chapter 10 from Love and Happiness. That fic has gone off in a different direction than I originally planned, so that I'm having to re-imagine the entire second half. That's why it's gone so long without an update. I just got stuck. However, I do have some of the next chapter written. Chapter nine ended with Bae's unexpected return. In this snippet, he tells his Papa and Belle what brought him back to the island.

Bae stopped, his hand clenching and unclenching on the table, while he gathered himself.  “It’s okay, son.” Gold leaned forward and put his hand over Bae’s. “Just tell us.”  “Emma went into the hospital to have the baby while I was away for work. She was a little early; we thought we had time, that I’d be back before she went into labor. I rushed back as fast as I could, and got there just after she’d given birth. They’d taken the baby away to clean it up or weigh it, or whatever they do with new babies. We waited for them to bring him back, but they never did. “The staff said that the authorities showed up, and had documents claiming that they could take custody of the baby. But no one seemed to know who these “authorities” were, or where they’d taken our baby. He was just… gone.”  “I’m so sorry, Bae,” Belle whispered. Beside her, Mr. Gold was rigid, his every muscle tense.  “Losing our baby… it broke Emma and me. We stayed together for a while longer, because we were searching for our baby. As long as we had that common goal, we could stay together. But eventually, we lost hope. And then we just became reminders to each other of what we’d lost. We went our separate ways. I don’t know if Emma is still looking for our son, but I am. I never stopped looking.”  “Any leads?” Mr. Gold asked. “Not until recently. That’s what’s so odd. I got a message telling me that my son was on Storybrooke Island. I thought it was from you, Papa."

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