#yay mass pride

[digestionsack]

Okay, so I’m seeing a lot of people with the “are you a converse gay or a vans gay?” And I applaud you. Veddy good. But what if Mike’s converse are foreshadowing? *adjusts tin foil hat*

Will is wearing vans, and vans headquarters are in Cali:

Which makes sense.

But Mike is wearing converse, and This Could Mean Nothing, but converse headquarters are in Boston, MA…

This plus That Interview (Finn Wolfhard implying that Mike’s getting the hells outta Hawkins once the whole show is over) PLUS the fact that MA was the first state to legalize gay marriage in 2004 PLUS Nancy wanting to go to Emerson College in Boston, MA thus establishing a possible future emotional closeness between the Wheeler siblings and an established connection to Boston…gotta say, the math could be mathing here.

Again, This Could Mean Nothing, but I know we’ve played around with the possibility of Byler going to Massachusetts and I just…MASS PRIDE!!

[omniblades-and-stars]

For the wip folder ask: what we lost in the muck sounds so interesting

Oh yay! One of my non-Mass Effect wips!

So I am playing a DnD game set in Eberron two years after a war that had lasted so long, my character, Aacid Malvys, has never known a time without it.

Aacid started as a joke. A dragonborn with an acid breath weapon named Aacid. But as I started thinking on her back story, she became quite serious and important to me.

Aacid became a soldier, and eventually proved herself capable of leading a small band of soldiers who specialized in guerilla style warfare. Near the end of the war, her pride causes her to make a bad call, and it costs her very nearly everything, except her life.

This will be the story of her time in the army from a young woman up to that event.

I'll put in what I've got so far (not very much) on this one under the cut!

"Shut your gob, Longhollow," Aacid huffed, voice raspy and gruff with exhaustion. She dropped her feet over the side of the top bunk, and inspected her toe claws for cracks and chips. It had been a long journey from Sharn. Fresh from basic training, they made their way to the frontlines. Young and full of pride and enthusiasm, one might have expected them to be eager to prove themselves on the field. But all they really felt was the dread of being sent into a war that had darkened the edges of their lives since they were born. "The oldest, she gets top bunk.”

It was much easier to joke about juvenile things like sleeping arrangements rather than address the creeping and pervasive sense of doom that gathered in the barracks like a fog. The humor helped fight away the feeling that there was a monster lurking in the shadows cast by the lamplight.

Peotyr batted her great clawed foot from in front of his eyes. “You stuff it, Malvys! You’re huge, if this bunk collapses I’ll be crushed in an instant!” He tossed himself back onto the straw mat that was allegedly a mattress and brushed away stray brown curls that had the audacity to go askance from the motion and block the charming view of the worn wooden slats above him. Initials and crude drawings both scratched into the surface, a time honored tradition of young soldiers.

Aacid bounced up and down causing the aging bunk to squeak threateningly. The crest of her horns nearly scraped the ceiling. “This sounds like a personal problem, Petes. You should try being taller.”

“Should try being smaller,” he groused in return.

“Tell you what, we fight for it, yes? First one knocked on the ground gets the top.”

“Bite me, Ass.”

Aacid shifted suddenly, pulling her legs up and behind her to swing around, her head hanging down to the bunk below. Eyes like molten gold challenged Peotyr almost as much as the sharp, fine points of her teeth did. “What part of you do you treasure most? I will be happy to rid you of it,” she snapped her jaws threateningly a couple of times.

Peotyr sat up in a snap and wrapped his hands around her curled horns. With an impish grin, he yanked, pulling Aacid over the edge of the bunk. She went crashing loudly to the floor with a shouted curse. She wrapped her hand around his ankle to drag him to the floor with her.

“Will you two please shut up!"

[idrisofficial]

do a gtn x idris analysis. can be about any aspect

my worldbuilding is nowhere near as impressive or fleshed out as tazmuir's but i kinda wanna focus on that comparison! i haven't talked/thought about worldbuilding in awhile so this is a pretty good opportunity.

the dynamics between the houses remind me a lot of idris's noble houses, even if the political situation is entirely different. idris's nobles have no need to compete with each other because they all serve one government which they are (mostly) all loyal to. arguably the same could be said of the nine houses in regards to the emperor, but the goal of lyctorhood is framed as inherently competitive within gtn, their shared servitude is virtually nixed. but shit between the idrisian noble houses gets nasty too! the characters i have developed the most often have bigger fish to fry (i.e. the revolution), but for the nobles who are not first and foremost concerned with artemis, they engage in a lot of petty aristocrat drama just because they have the time for it! most want to grab power wherever they can, and step on each others' toes all the time to get it. they duel (yay swords!), they make political plans to directly antagonize their enemies, and they are completely cut off from the rest of civilization at large for the most part. it's part of why the nobility are so fucked up; the culture is and has been for hundreds of years to distance themselves from reality and engage only in what are deemed noble pursuits (religion, ivory tower academia, sparring, study of their political domain). this is, in a way, comparable to the transformations seen in first house when the adepts seek out lyctorhood and abandon their humanity in the process.

but really, it's what makes idris comparable to the ninth house. it's hard to know where to start with this in particular, because the biggest thing i have to go off of is Vibes. but the morbid, isolated feel of the house of the ninth is exactly what it's like walking around halcyon's castle. like ninth house, idris is a sparsely populated country, although idris does take up considerable land mass. only certain parts of it are really conducive to life at all, so cities become dense with people while forests and tundras are left abandoned. much like the ninth house, idris has been a sinking ship for a long time. the halcyonic values which idrisians are raised with breed a lot of patriotism, but anyone who examines the country's resources and poor international status understands that they can only go on for so long like this, with each new ruler only prolonging the country's slow death. the nobles are also raised with far too much pride to address the structural issues within government and economy. they're raised with far too much pride to even organize proper relations with other countries. unlike the ninth house, idris is not separated by planet from its contemporaries. but honestly? it might as well be. most nobles aren't even permitted to leave the country. idrisians have so much contempt for other countries' heresy that they refuse to engage even when given the opportunity. which, as far as i can tell, is also a pretty stereotypical ninth trait (although i wouldn't say gideon or harrow particularly embody it).

i do enjoy the harrow-brinne similarities as well. i love the way gideon constantly describes harrow's expressions as twisted or pinched or anything similar-- it's very brinnelike to me, even though brinne isn't really facially expressive. harrow's adamance about the face paint is a safety precaution throughout gtn, and it reminds me of two brinne things, the first being her veil. brinne's veil is obviously first and foremost her method of covering her facial scar, but it also represents her attempts to bring herself closer to halcyonic values and halcyon itself. it's not a coincidence that her scarring goes hand in hand with the nde where she hallucinates herself in halcyon's image (i.e. faceless). although the vision terrifies and traumatizes her, she becomes fixated on piety immediately following. masking half her face is a way of re-attaining the godliness of her nde, as well as keeping herself safe from the people around her. and like the reverend daughter's face paint, it is a way of altering the way she is perceived. the veil creates a similar imperviousness to the face paint.

harrow and brinne's loneliness and selfishness are also deliciously similar. they both come from childhoods where they were simultaneously idolized and isolated and that sure did fuck up their priorities! harrow is kind of a more extreme version of brinne's traumas. just one-upping her everywhere. where brinne was supposed to be the most divine of other divine children, harrow was her house's only hope for divinity at all. where brinne was expected to be the paragon among so many other living children (and failed), harrow was expected to make up for all of the children who died for her (an impossible task). where brinne was hated by all of the nobles growing up, harrow had no one left to be hated by, save for gideon, who did a damn good job at letting her know. but despite the disparities, i think the effects which these things had on them are similar. brinne is a failure to represent her lineage and her people, and the irreversibility of her blood is what prevents her from justifying herself in the first place. harrow is a failure to be worth all of the souls that died for her, a curse placed on her alongside conception itself. it's all very original sin-y.

ok im tired now and i should go to sleep but if i ever have the time and energy to add onto this i will. there are so many juicy comparisons between gtn and idris. it makes my brain go all microwave noises

[bansept]

The Child of God (AU)

Part 3

Welp, I got more ideas for this, and the last parts did a little number so yay

Also little fixing a mistake : Dio is angry his body is not his, that Jonathan is still bothering him even after a century, but since Jonathan was the only man he respected, he's not angry at him directly. If that makes sense?

--

Italy was, for lack of a better word, extraordinary different from England. Of course, Dio's birth place was a place of rain, cold weather and distinguished people who didn't want to go hiking up a mountain under the scorching July sun, with their overwhelming loud and jovial attitude.

Giorno was, per say, not an Italian child. Dio remembered the mother to be japanese, and he was thankful to have had enough insight to not choose an Italian woman, sparing his son the joyful and dramatic personality. But as things turned out, he was renamed Giorno, "day" - truly, a sigh escaped him - and he was Dio.

Irony of fate.

The boy was not talkative. He was a great listener, that was quite the evidence when his eyes were wide with attention and his concentration reached Olympic heights when explaining mondaine things, but he was silent. Dio didn't mind on the first day. He would have been in the obligation of leaving the child behind if the offspring were to be loud and boisterous as he heard they could be.

No, Giorno was afraid.

He carefully busied himself to not bother anyone, even the servants, played with his own fingers, watched the world from inside the villa. The child rarely asked for help, and immediately tended to the duties he had to do, or human resources times, like eating times or going to bed. It made Dio think.

"Giorno. Come here." He asked, calm and collected. The vampire was not in any way fit to talk or befriend a child. But he was his father. Trying was better than acting as if he wasn't here.

Giorno raised his head from the simple sheet of paper he was writing on. His expression was one of surprise, if not worry, and he quickly jumped from his seat to walk to his father's side.

The room, dark from the heavy curtains placed on each windows, was only lit by a few candles and electric lights. A fire was always maintained in the fireplace.

"Yes, Father ?"

"Do you like to read?" Dio asked, not allowing the pride he felt when hearing his son recognize him.

The black haired boy thought for a second, hands going to his front to twist his woolen sweater.

"I... Like to read about nature... Animals and bugs..." He mumbled quietly, surely expecting this huge mass of an immortal being his father was to reprimand him of enjoying those books.

Dio felt a smile grow on his lips as he closed his grimoire, spreading his back in his seat, elbow on the armrest.

"Hoh, I see. It is good to learn about those things. They show your interest for your surroundings."

He stood up, Giorno looking at him with attention, as the vampire walked up to the huge book covered wall. There, knowledge from around the world, be it ancient or new. Some books were philosophical, others social, historical, geographical, anatomical... One could truly build quite a mind with just this collection.

Dio's big hand picked a rather thick work, and he offered it to the waiting boy at his feet.

"This encyclopedia should teach you anything you want about the animals that exist to this day. If you are interested by the ones from previous times, there surely will be a volume for you in here."

Giorno huffed when he carried the heavy book, but his eyes, who usually looked so wary and afraid immediately had brighten up to be filled with wonder. He smiled widely, although the book surely was too heavy.

"Thank you, Father!"

Dio didn't answer first. A genuine happy reaction, filled with happiness, innocent happiness. Not fueled by the desire to gain attention. He had not seen, felt that since... A long time.

Giorno walked carefully until he felt hands reach for his armpits, and suddenly he was lifted in strong arms, covered by a simple shirt. He gasped in surprise, unmoving, and Dio sat them both on the seat he had occupied before, Giorno on his leg, the book still in his hands.

"While I know you are a very clever little boy, I do believe you might need some help with some words." Dio smiled, somewhat a mix of cockiness and shyness.

The boy smiled in return, feeling himself hug the book close to him.

"You said you liked bugs. Do you have one in particular you want to learn about?" His father wondered, resting a hand under his chin while observing the child glow in visible thrill.

"I want to learn about ladybugs. And fireflies. And lots of others."

"Then" He waved his hand at the book, nodding "Let us start."

After an hour spent in front of the fireplace learning about many animals and their function, which ended up being interesting to some level even to Dio, Giorno felt his stomach growl. His father chuckled.

"I'm afraid no amount of words will be able to fill your stomach. We will continue the reading before you go sleep tonight. Go fetch your dinner with Gloria."

"But, can't you stay with me?"

Giorno didn't ask for much. The only few demands he had were simple and easily accepted, and consisted of human devices, or such. Ever since the night of his arrival, he didn't request anything from his father. But now that they had spent some time together, that they had learned together, chuckled together, that Dio himself allowed his son to hug himself closer while he read about whatever animal he was interested in, the boy needed more.

More time with his only family.

The blonde man remained in his seat, silent. Could he be a father to this boy? He had plans. He had needs. Neither could ever be a good education to Giorno. The more he linked himself to the small and lively boy by his side, the more his weakness for him grew.

A part of him couldn't allow weakness. Wouldn't. He had a world to rule. Revenge to take.

The other part remembered the warmth of his mother's embrace. The hatred for this fat pig of a father he buried.

The decision was made. He wouldn't go back on it.

"Yes, son. I'll dine with you tonight."

Giorno once again smiled brightly, the sheer joy from his heart warming Dio's own weathering heart.

--

Part 2 // Part 4

[ramuneempiremtl]

Slave-kun's Happy Life in Another World: Chapter 8

When we got out of the bath, the white person approached us and used magic to blow hot air to dry our hair. Are they a mother?

Since calling them "white person" over and over is a bit strange, I decided to observe them a little more closely.

They had light blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Their features were delicate. Their clothes were also whitish, making them appear even more like a white person.

In conclusion, the white person was indeed a white person.

Their name is Nove. Could they be the person my master was talking about who is good at magic?

If I'm not careful, I might end up calling them "mother." I need to make sure to remember their name.

"No, it just won't dry here for some reason."

This Nove person is mumbling something over my head. My hair, which was once a mess, has become shiny after being washed properly.

For some reason, there's one spot that just won't dry, and despite their best efforts, they've finally given up and admitted defeat.

Huh? Oh no!

I'm being taken care of again.

Where has my pride as a slave gone?

If I don't show them that I can do my job properly, I'll continue to be treated like a baby. But for now, I need to get my health back… Oh dear.

"Come over here."

The person with the shield followed and beckoned me to the entrance of the room.

When I entered the room, I was told to lie down on the bed. I did as I was told, and I was so surprised by how soft the bed was that I sat up.

It's not a spring mattress, but for some reason it's very bouncy!

Civilization! The smell of civilization!

"I told you to go to sleep!"

I was pushed back down.

Their hands moved from the top of my head to my toes. I felt something passing through me. Is this not healing magic, but something like a CT scan?

Magic is amazing.

"…Your appearance has been healed, but the bruises haven't. And your internal organs are quite damaged. You won't be able to eat oily foods for a while."

"Is it that bad?"

"Well, I can heal it, though."

The master, who had been standing next to the person with the shield, looked at me with concern.

Oh dear, so the person with the shield is the healer.

With their dull, beige hair and sleepy, deep green eyes, this man seemed to have more muscle mass than the master, who was quite muscular himself.

I always thought that healing was something that gentle women or kind old ladies did. I guess the world isn't that simple.

However, their skills seemed to be genuine. As the person with the shield touched me with their glowing palm, the pain and throbbing disappeared, and the heaviness in my body vanished.

Magic is amazing.

I've been trying to cast a small amount of healing magic by imitating what I've seen, but I can tell that there's a fundamental difference.

Knowledge, perhaps. If I studied magic, I might be able to be more useful. I've been told that I have a lot of magic power.

"It's done."

"Thank you."

"Mm."

Finally, the person with the shield ruffled my hair and left.

The master told him, but I also said thank you to the person with the shield in my heart.

It's inconvenient not being able to speak at times like this.

The master clapped their hands.

"Alright! It's late, but let's have some food."

Yay! Food!

I jumped out of bed and returned to the other room, where a steaming wooden bowl was placed on the table.

Food!

I waited for the master to sit down before I sat down myself. I am a slave, after all. I wonder if it's even appropriate for me to eat at the same table, but there doesn't seem to be anyone here who would care or point it out.

The master had a mountain of grilled meat, soup, and bread, while I had only soup. It's probably barley porridge. It's helpful since my stomach is weak.

When I looked at the cat-like person who had prepared the food, they nodded. The master also nodded and started eating, so I scooped up some with a wooden spoon and put it in my mouth.

…Delicious!

I can't say anything else.

I can't even say that.

The soup had small meatballs floating in it, and the cloudy broth was probably made with chicken stock. It was thick, perhaps from barley or maybe some grated root vegetables. I also think there are some herbs in it.

This is definitely medicinal food.

I feel bad for being treated so well. But it's so delicious that I don't care.

With this, the remaining concern, the question of 'is the food in this world delicious', has also been safely cleared. Food is the foundation of all activities, so it is very, very important.

But it's a bit disappointing.

I think this soup could be even more delicious. I think there are flavors that I can't perceive because my body's sense of taste hasn't developed yet.

The taste buds of Japanese people are cultivated from a young age by experiencing the flavors of various ingredients. It's different from the tongue of a child who has lived as a slave.

My memories contain the taste, but I guess I'm still being influenced by the sensations of this body, so I can't fully appreciate the subtle nuances.

I need to cultivate them.

And then, maybe one day, when I'm gone and the mind of the boy who owns this body awakens, I want him to be able to enjoy the taste of all kinds of delicious things.

…It also means that everything I eat will be delicious for now.

I will gratefully accept it.

Thank you, world.

[iana-stardust]

Took some time to look back on my blog today and yeah, sorry for subjecting yall to that stuff. But, I‘m also glad because after looking back at all the shit I‘ve been through in the last two years, I can see how much I‘ve improved. I have kind of an emotional capacity now and I don’t live in constant crippling anxiety. I still don’t really function normally and struggle to do some pretty basic stuff but at least now I can take care of myself, more or less. I haven’t felt the urge to end myself in so long, suicide jokes make me worried now. I can barely believe that one. Honestly, my life is pretty much in shambles. I‘m broke, living at my mom‘s place and still too scared of talking to people to try to get a job. Might tutor english/bio/german nonprofit for a while to get used to being around people, but being masc presenting, education/supervision jobs with children scare me. So yeah I‘m still a total wreck, but I‘m also gradually getting better at life, and at some point I might even be able to function properly. Yay.

Also I‘ve kind of settled my gender identity? Like, I‘m transfem. Pretty sure of that. But I‘m going to continue going by all pronouns and I won’t take up a real name until I can actually start my transition. Don’t know why but it feels right that way. Honestly I‘m really scared of what the future may bring regarding that, but I‘m going to hedge my bets on being happy. Unfortunately, my therapist won’t give me an assessment on the matter because she regards herself as unqualified to do so, which I suppose is fair enough, but I‘m frustrated that I can’t make progress. I want to continue therapy to deal with my anxiety but I worry it won’t work if it comes at the cost of delaying my transition. In the meantime I‘m dieting and hitting the gym; I can shape up my waist a little already, and since I read that mtf hrt reduces muscle mass I figure bulking up won’t hurt, especially since from experience I lose muscle mass pretty quick once I take a break. I pretty much have my mind set on a full transition, because I just want those damn bottom dysphoria things gone, but time will tell if that’ll be an option. If I can’t be a proper transfem yet, I can at least be my best twink lol.

I‘m fixing my sleep rythm and somehow managed to go full decaf. Which is nice, but sugar free monster is so much better than diet soda and I legit can’t drink it for shit anymore because caffeine has become pure anxiety juice. Also it’s really hard looking at monster monarch on the shelves and not getting a can. I hope once my anxiety gets better I can have the occasional can again.

I‘ve been downsizing my shit because I realized I‘m pretty materially spoiled and my room is full of once-expensive now garbage. I want to pursue my old hobbies again, but warhammer and airsoft are both very time-consuming and expensive and between the two, airsoft is such a joy and pride for me that it’s hard to choose something over it. So I‘ve been trying to sell my pile of shame from Warhammer but haven’t found anyone willing to buy. I might just paint them in a quiet minute anyway. If I can make the space to set up a small workbench type hobby desk I‘d be set for years of warhammer and airsoft tinkering on free time, but for now I feel like I don’t deserve to take that free time because I don’t really have any work to take it from.

So yeah that’s where I‘m at uwu

[absolutepokemontrash]

What if

MC is actually Diavolo's adoptive sibling? As in.... Demon King Dad saw MC as a kid and just adopted them because they were lost and couldn't find their parents?

MC has Satan's personality, ie they're fine until someone ticks them off....

Yay! Dia gets the friend he needs! :D

So, let’s say the demon king woke up for like, 20 minutes, saw this random human child, and just went, “Oh Diavolo, you always wanted a sibling.” *hands him MC* “Here. I’m going back to sleep.”

Diavolo

…I’m sorry but HUUUUUH??! How’d this even happen?! One second Diavolo is doing really boring paperwork and then the next he has this tiny human in his lap and he’s browsing parenting forums- BARBATOS THE HUMAN COUGHED CALL LUCIFER-

Well uh… he’s a big brother :D yaaaaaaaay! Barbatos, please cancel his two o’clock, he and MC are going to play catch in the yard. Wait… what do you mean he can’t cancel his two o’clock? Aw… well, after dinner they’ll play catch.

Like many older siblings, Diavolo ends up fulfilling part of a parental role as well…

He loves this little human, and the first time he got a good look at their rather… Vesuvian temper, was when they were both playing a game of DevilKart. The poor little thing had fallen off rainbow road one too many times.

Everything was quiet, then complete chaos.

MC was throwing things, screaming, cursing like a sailor, it was mental. Thankfully, after recovering from his shock, Dia was able to just pick MC up and hold them in the air like Simba until they calmed down.

“We can’t solve our problems like this, MC. Would you like to play on a different track?”

When MC gets older (*sniffle* they grow up so fast…) they obviously enrol at RAD! Diavolo’s always happy to see what new spells they’ve learned, even if they haven’t quite mastered everything yet.

Lucifer

…huh? The demon king did what exactly?

After getting over his initial shock, Lucifer devolves into his usual state but still slightly more stressed. He can’t let Lord Diavolo see him in a state of crazed panic!

Lucifer just kind of observes at first, trying to see what this little human’s deal is. But before he could say no, Diavolo dumped babysitting duty on him one day.

So, stuck with this small child on a random Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon. What is a Pride demon to do?

Teach the technically-princet of the Devildom some history of course!

“And then the princess decapitated all of her political enemies in court after luring them into a trap during the legal proceedings.” “Yay! Tell more!”

As the child grew older, Lucifer began to notice something… concerning. This child was an awful lot like that little brother of his… the one that had a penchant for pranks and sneaking cats into the house.

This all came to a head when Lucifer had to duck behind his desk because the kid was throwing the mother of all tantrums over only being allowed two Oreos after dinner. Oh geez… just like Satan… except much less biting.

Mammon

Oi! What’s with the little ankle biter sittin’ oh Lord Diavolo’s knee? New little sibling? Pfft, that’s lame. Don’t go askin’ the great Mammon to babysit because he ain’t doin’ it!

The Great Mammon was then told to babysit.

MC grew attached very quickly, for reasons completely unknown and totally unrelated to the ice cream that was totally not eaten before dinner.

When MC was smaller, they used to cling to Mammon’s leg like a koala and he’d just have to live with it. He’d walk around with MC attached like an ankle weight.

A few years down the line when MC’s not a little kid anymore, Mammon is the leader of the “break MC out of the castle to go do fun shit” squad.

“Hey! Kid! Jump! I’ll catch ya!” “Mam, I thought you were good at math! That force equals mass times acceleration stuff means that if I fall from this height and land on you, I’m breaking my legs!” “…Beel you catch them.”

Leviathan

No. Nuh uh. Exiting the server lobby. Levi is absconding. Babies and little kids are so annoying…

Yeah, safe to say Levi wasn’t too happy whenever MC came over for any reason. Why? Simple. They liked the way his room looked, and wanted to touch his precious figurines!

“I wanna play!” “N-no! That’s a rare Ruri-chan figurine! See here, there’s a production defect where they accidentally gave her hot pink nail polish instead of the normal salmon pink nail polish-” “LEMME PLAY!”

That led to one of the worst tantrums since Satan was a baby… Levi almost summoned Lotan to protect his precious manga and figurines- NO NOT HIS GAMING SETUP!

Everything turned out fine… surprisingly Mammon saved the day by wandering into the room and calming MC down- wait. Why was Mammon going into Levi’s room in the first place?

Not for a scummy reason? Sure. And Levi’s an extrovert.

Levi gets on much better with MC after they get older and have a better hold on their emotions. He does his duty and introduces them to anime and gaming, Rainbow Road continues to be a causer of gamer rage.

Satan

*Spider man pointing meme*

In all seriousness, Satan is more interested in how and why the demon king woke up from his nap and decided to adopt this seemingly normal human child.

Satan couldn’t sense any super strong magic… yet anyway.

He was going to figure things out. By totally legitimate and non-dangerous means. He just needs to find a way to babysit without Barbatos or (*gag*) Lucifer skulking around…

It actually takes a good few years, and Satan has bore witness to MC’s fiery temper… perhaps this could be his key to finding out if they actually have any magic.

After finally getting them decently alone at RAD, Satan had literally orchestrated the entire room into something designed to piss someone off. He poured pop all over the floors to make them sticky, he turned up the thermostat so the room was close to boiling, all of the chairs and tables were ever so slightly uneven so everything wobbled.

I just gave everyone who suffers from sensory overload a heart attack didn’t I?

Basically, Satan lets them stew for a bit, then starts a fight. A fight with a child. A child who is the adopted child of the demon king. This was a great idea.

So. After getting an (annoyingly sticky) boot to the face, Satan got his answer. Yes. MC could do magic, and no, this was not worth it.

Satan and MC are on quite rocky terms.

Asmodeus

Oh look a baby.

…

What the fuck-

See everyone, since Asmo is just the most perfect, amazing, beautiful, astounding, did he mention beautiful-

What Asmo’s getting at is, he’d love to babysit little MC sometime! Just babysitting though, if MC throws up on anything, Asmo will pitch a fit.

When Asmo holds MC for the first time, he nearly starts bawling. It’s just *sniffle* been so long since he’s held a baaaaaaaby… he holds MC out to Satan and starts blubbering about how small and cute Satan was when he was MC’s age.

Anyway~ Asmo is a proud member of the “bust MC out of the castle to go have fun” club. He just can’t stand the idea of MC being locked up all alone and sad in the castle…

Asmo is in near constant competition with Mammon for the spot of MC’s favourite. And Asmo’s actually doing really well in this competition. He helps MC make friends, he helps them look their best, he’s their constant hype man…

Everyone say thank you to Asmo for being great :3

Beelzebub

:0 a small human! They’re so little!

After being entranced by the human’s smallness, Beel is more concerned with his twin…

But um… anyway. Beel does his best to not scare MC, he knows he can be kind of intimidating without meaning to be.

Sometimes when MC needed help reaching things, he’d lift them up onto the counter so they could get their things :) the problem is Beel sometimes gets distracted by food and forgets to help MC back down.

“Hello MC, what are you doing up there?” “You left me here!” “Oh… whoops.”

Beel has a similar approach to Diavolo when MC goes on a rampage, he picks them up and holds them in the air.

Beel is another proud member of the “bust MC out of the castle to do fun shit” squad. He’s the person MC hides behind whenever Lucifer is spotted in the distance.

Belphegor

…ew.

Not only is that thing a human, it’s a child. Children are gross. And wriggly. And noisy. And- annoying Diavolo is going to be their primary caretaker.

Ugh… time to plot some revenge for Lilith.

Knowing that Belphie is a homicidal little shit, Lucifer takes extra care to make sure MC is never in a situation where someone can’t rescue them from the cow man.

After years of plotting murder… Belphie realizes he does not in fact want to kill a child. Or the adult that MC eventually becomes.

They’re just kinda cute? And it’s very funny when Lucifer has to deal with their tantrums.

“Hey. Hey MC.” “What?” “Wanna join the Anti Lucifer League?” “No! Lucifer’s nice-” “We have a pillow fort.” “I’m sold.”

It does take a while to convince everyone that Belphie doesn’t mean MC any harm, but once that trust is earned, it’s not uncommon for MC and Belphie to be found napping together.

[myelocin]

Hinata, Kageyama, and Kenma! My day was actually pretty good, I got school stuff done!

yay! ;w;

Cry

you watch hinata cry from the bleachers. his cheeks flushed, eyes red, and cheeks stretched so, so wide from smiling from his place on stage. you clap, then yell his name, until eventually you’re screaming from your place because you’re crying with him too. it’s when you’re leaning against the ledge where hinata spots you through the mass of cheering people, a thank you in his eyes and a smile you know is meant just for you. 

Marry

kenma is the man you say i do too. a wedding in autumn, inside a little greenhouse in kyoto where the leaves around the big windows are red, orange, and yellow. his eyes, golden like the leaves, and his words like scarlet. like the blood in your veins, and the color his cheeks bloomed into when you kissed him first on the corner of his mouth, before muttering your i love you, against his lips.

Kill

you kill kageyama unknowingly. on the other hand, he lets himself be killed silently. he knew that he should have kept his eyes forward, past the crowd and not at you, who looks the most alive with that kind of smile on your face as you wave the banner with his team’s name on it from the bleachers. he knows he should have swallowed his pride and forced his eyes to look forward, because he knows that the smile you shoot in his direction wasn’t meant for him. it was always meant for hinata.

[laufire]

I was tagged by @wisteria-lodge (ty!)

The Game: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some authors!  

I went with the last 20 saved (well, edited) documents in my WIPs folder.

tagging: @elasticella @missbrunettebarbie @bebewrites @bombshellsandbluebells @punishandenslavesuckers @anghraine @toboldlywrite @sienarosso @grapecase and whoever else feels like giving it a go, just drop a mention so I see it ^-^

1. Castiel didn’t come to the decision easily; it shamed him to say that it had been, in no small part, a question of pride. (SPN. pre-s4 canon-divergence AU. The idea was inspired by this anon’s prompt).

2. A man in a trench coat had lurked on the corner of his eye all day; now, he waited for Dean outside his motel’s room. (SPN. This one was also inspired by an anon’s prompt (smh); it’s a Meg and Castiel role reversal AU, so now I have a whole ‘verse in my head with demon!Castiel and angel!Meg and how they’d fit in the story, meet the Winchesters, etc.).

3. Sometimes Bela indulged in the thought that the worst thing about Hell was the tedium, the rutine and repetition of the day to day; but then, the torture started. (SPN. My “Castiel gets Bela out of Hell” AU).

---

5. In the upcoming days, Silver will work hard to forget this truth: when he dared to reveal his true nature to the crew, it wasn’t because he sorely needed to replentish his energy after losing his leg; it was because he’d hoped they would kill him. (Black Sails. Vampire Silver AU).

6. John Murphy’s second life started when he woke up hungry and filthy in a half dug mass grave. (The 100. Vampire Memori AU -part of my Vamp/Blade T100 AU series. Indra is Blade btw xD).

7. The last thing Anna espected was to open her eyes again after Michael’s attack. (SPN. Self-indulgent Anna/Mary AU).

8. “I take it the interrogation didn’t go your way.” Castiel couldn’t stop himself from needling Dean, who glared at him while his hands still shook. (SPN. Endverse!Megstiel story).

---

10. Someone else might have thought they just woke up from a nightmare, but Silver knew his head had just hit against the rocks. (Black Sails. Max & Silver, Russian Doll inspired fusion, set in s1 of the show).

11. After talking with the rattled Ms. Bose, Jo could feel her luck in this hunt was finally changing. (SPN. Bela/Jo, s3 canon-divergence AU. Three guesses as to who is Ms. Bose).

12. Sam had put if off when Lucifer started raising; when he and Dean were on the plane; when Zachariah had them spilling their guts; in the hospital... but finally, he reunited a few seconds of calm to freak. The fuck. Out. (SPN. My Ruby’s Terror Twins series lmao -Ruby screams out she’s pregnant, shocks Sam and Dean enough she can escape with her knife. Then, a few months later...).

13. Ruby opened her eyes, and immediately knew two things: the slash in her stomach was healed, and she’d put her faith in the right deity. (SPN. Ruby Lives AU. Ideally, a rewrite, but that might be too ambitious xD. Of s5, sure).

---

16. What Moira first noticed about Akeri was the book he’d tried to hide beneath his clothes; the carved marks on his cheeks came second. (Black Sails. Maroon Queen x Mr. Scott -who I gave alternate names because I can’t write an entire fic about them and pretend they call each other that lol).

17. Alastair spoke to Dean in a tone that sat in between that of a lover and a proud father. (SPN. Alastair brings Bela for Dean to torture).

18. The letters -all four of them now- never came signed; for that matter, there was nothing specific or damning enough, no misstep hidden within them that he could have used, and so he stopped looking for those. (Black Sails. Rackham x Rogers Foe Yay post finale lol).

19. That very night Silver will curse himself for his naivete, for thinking you can escape from something while you plant roots on a place; but in truth, the day had started so well. (Black Sails. An attempt to explore certain ideas about Silver’s past that’s likely to go nowhere lol).

20. At the ten year mark Silver returned to land and found the wrong woman waiting for him on the beach. (Black Sails. A weird “Silver ends as the captain of the Flying Dutchman” canon-compliant AU).

Patterns: ig the most notable one is that I like to throw the reader in the middle of the action, especially in fic. Often I go back and elaborate on the context, but I like a cold open xD

Favourite: I’m very happy with them all (first lines matter to me), but I’m especially fond of 9 and 14 for Latoya and Eva’s dramatics; 5 with vampire!Silver (ouchie); and 13 for the irony xD

[avatarvyakara]

Strands of Webbing

A Spiderverse Fanfic

Prompts 121-132

“Leave it to the Professionals”

First | Previous | Next

121. Apprentice

“I got it!” crows Miles over the chat. “This is huge, man, I get to understudy this scientist and might even get some kind of job offer from it in future!”

The chat explodes.

“Wow, Miles! Congratulations!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Yay Miles!”

“You did good, kid.”

“Nice!”

Miles laughs. “Heh, yeah, aw man this is neat.”

“So who’re you shadowing?” asks Peter.

“Wow, that was stupid, forgot to look, it’s Doctor Olivvvvv...”

The chat goes very, very quiet.

“Welp, I’m dead,” says Miles, matter-of-factly.

122. Bugle

“Put it like this,” says Robbie. “You’ve been freelancing for us long enough as a photographer. How do you feel about being a journalist?”

“What kind of journalism?” asks Peter.

“Science, in this case. You’ve still got your Masters in BioChem, right?”

“...still freelance?”

“Usual rates.”

Robbie names a figure. Peter doesn’t fall out of his chair because that would be unprofessional, but he considers it for a moment.

“Robbie...I appreciate this. Really, I do. But this is just...out of the blue, it’s—”

“Are you saying no?”

“Of course not.”

“Then welcome back, Mr. Parker,” says Robbie, standing up and shaking his hand. Then he smiles. “It’s been too long, buddy. Kinda wondering where you got to.”

“Dropped off the face of the earth for a while, I admit,” says Peter, and Robbie laughs.

Back at the paper. ...well, who knew? Maybe there’s a way to make this work. And it looks to pay better than the photographs, anyway. Way better.

He nearly backs out again when a visit to a vacuum-cleaner facility ends up involving the creation of a new villain called the Fanatic. (Yes. Fan-atic. Hilarious.) Nearly.

123. Inappropriate

“I mean, wasn’t there any other career you could have chosen?” asks Spider-Man in Spanish, dodging another blow. “Did someone really look at your skill-set and say, ‘Man, that guy would make a great murderous cyborg’?”

“Actually it was a natural extension of my talents,” the Scorpion replies. “The whole cocaine cartel business didn’t mix very well with my job as a professional wrestler after that accident blew off most of my limbs. This seemed like the best way to continue both.”

“...ay, chacho, you ever thought about therapy?”

“Nah. I couldn’t get a license to practice up here. Stupid lack of transfer programs.”

“...I’m sorry, what?”

124. Actual

“Holy—”

“Language,” warns Gray.

“...Moses,” Peter B finishes sardonically, making Peni snort. “This is your version of the Rhino?”

The creature rampaging down the street is about twenty storeys high, with six horns roughly the size of small houses arranged along its face. Eight tiny mad eyes peer out at the world, and the greenish-grey skin seems to glow faintly.

“Yeah, normally I just lead him out of town again,” says Peni. “He’s a big softie when you get past the whole, well, mass destruction stuff.”

“Your town, your rules, hun,” says Gray.

(“Took you long enough,” mutters Peter B. “...oh my god I’m turning into my aunt.”)

Peni beams at the accidental endearment (which he can’t really see but SP//dr’s inFace is happy at least), then plugs in a flight path.

“Come on, let’s get him out of here. You’re gonna wanna see what happens next.”

SP//dr makes a loud sound, attracting the Rhino’s attention their way. Then it starts swinging away. The Rhino starts huffing and panting, and then it moves to charge.

And SP//dr is just soaring along in the breeze.

“Come see the future, they said. It’s got so many colours, they said. Did anyone mention the rhino? An angry, mega-mall-sized rhino? No, don’t bother bringing that up!”

With grumbling on one side and a kind of worried pride on the other, the Peters set out after their counterpart.

125. Sequel

Mary-Jane looks at the expectant cluster and tries, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile.

“Tiger,” she says, mildly reproachful, “we talked about yours already.”

Peter B looks (equally) mildly embarrassed. Miles and Gwen snicker.

“Miles, yours was pretty good. Although the advertisement right in the middle might get people confused.”

Gwen nudges an equally embarrassed Miles. “What did I say?”

“Gwen, yours was...eclectic.”

Gwen pouts. “Obviously your taste in music skipped a dimension.”

“You did a percussion-heavy death metal version of ‘O Holy Night’,” Peter B reminds her.

“And it was amazing, so what?”

“Mr. Parker,” Mary-Jane goes on, addressing Noir, “I was actually genuinely impressed. I didn’t even know there was a klezmer version of ‘We Three Kings’.”

“Aw, well, thanks kindly, ma’am. Got a couple of musician friends of mine to help.”

“Peni, I admit I don’t know the song, but it was very sweet.”

“Wait, ‘Sleigh Ride To The Moon’ hasn’t come out yet here? Aw, nuts...”

“I’d hate to see the copyright case for that one,” mutters her...boyfriend? Nearly-fiancé-again? Ex-ex? ...actually that last one doesn’t sound bad.

“Mr. Porker...”

“Before anything else, I’ll have you know that ‘Lament of a Christmas Turkey’ is a classic.”

“...”

“...”

“...and we’ll leave it at that. But overall, it’s really good, guys!”

The Spider-Gang whoops.

“But why did you get Norman Osborn reciting ‘Night Before Christmas’?”

“...honey, say that last bit again?”

126. Shoulder

“Hey.”

Peter roars with laughter.

Miles’ face flushes, even if he is trying not to laugh at Gwen’s expression himself. “Seriously? You gonna do that every time we meet up?”

“What? It’s our thing.”

Miles sighs, unsuccessfully hides a smile, and makes an effort to suffer in silence, which Peter obviously has no appreciation for.

127. Bicker

"It's…a little awkward, when they start swearing at one another in different languages," says Peter.

Noir nods. "Don't think either of them understands what the other is saying, to be honest."

A stream of rapid-fire Japanese curses fly overhead.

"…but I'm pretty sure from the little I know that Peni's not too happy."

The issue, as Miguel later rants about to Peter, is actually ridiculously simple: whether or not to incorporate "future" weapons into other Spiders' suits. Miguel is all for it. Peni is very much against it. Miguel thinks Peni is a child and a hypocrite. Peni seems to be under the misguided impression that Miguel's missing the point. Miguel has no idea what that [unprintable] point is supposed to be. (This sort of censorship always happens around Peter Porker when he's Abroad and he thinks it's just the multiverse out to get him.) Peni tried to indicate that he could look for that point…where the sun does not shine. And so on and so forth.

That one takes a little while to sort out.

In the end, Noir's happy to stick with his regular weapons but accepts a "pressure modulation shield" that slows incoming bullets, most of the Spiders vote not to be fitted with anything (Peni's concerns about restocking and potential glitching during combat convinces a few, but mostly it's just not their style), Hobie Brown goes away with half an armoury woven into his suit and a grin like a jack-o'-lantern, and Miguel—to everyone's surprise—opts out completely. And then it's on to the next big thing in multiversal tech.

128. Revitalize

When Mary-Jane Parker opened the door to Peter B. Parker for the first time in nearly a year, she wasn't sure what to expect. But they were adults, now, not hormonal teenagers. They'd both lived through too much. And Peter had a habit of running when things got too scary. No, that's not fair—he ran when he thought things were going to get deadly. When he thought he risked hurting someone.

So it was genuinely a surprise to see him there, suit on, a little chubby but with eyes full of hope.

They split up because...well, many reasons, in fact. But one of the biggest was that neither of them had any real faith in themselves to take care of the other. Or in the other to listen.

Maybe...just maybe...she could let a little hope back into her life too.

Besides, it was just going out for lunch. What could happen?

129. Placement

“Normally people change careers every few decades,” says Peni. “Just to keep things moving.” She smiles, and gives SP//dr a noogie. “But normally people don’t have a friend like Takara.” She sighs. “Or a ninety-year contract with Oscorp, that’s a bit of a pain.”

130. Gumshoe

Peter is still a detective, first and foremost.

So when Peter B calls him—“We gotta keep the kids out of this”—he comes over as Peter Parker, Private Eye, not the Spider-Man.

A new Earth, one from the ‘90s by the look of it. (The 1890s, of course.) A new New York. A new Spider-Man.

A dead Spider-Man.

“It’s like he was burned alive,” says Peter B, grimly. “Kaine Parker. That was my grandfather’s name.”

“Mine’s was Leopold. Leopold Poyker. Only they made him change it at the border.”

Behind the mask, Kaine Parker looks a lot like the Peters. A harrowing thought. The burning handprint on his front tells another story—it’s still glowing red-hot, incisions where fingernails—or talons—dug in livid and lava-like.

“Think it’s a local villain?”

“I don’t know,” says Peter B. “But what I do know is, this is a new kind of threat. Look at the goober.”

One of Miguel’s new toys. (He was unbearably smug about it for a fortnight, according to Peni.) Detects quantities of non-local matter compared to the regular variation within each universe. If already from a logged world, it would display the number.

This is his number.

“One of my villains did this?”

“Maybe. Peter, we’ve got to keep this on the downlow.”

“No, that’s exactly what we shouldn’t do. The kids need to know that they might be in danger. So does Porker. And Miguel.”

Peter grimaces. “...we gotta tell them when it’s quiet, then. Miles and Gwen and Mayday have exams at the moment, they don’t need the extra stress.”

“I’m telling Peni and Porker,” Peter insists.

“Fine. But carefully. I’ll get Miguel up to speed. We’ll plan telling the others later, and plan some kind of security check system.”

They look down again at the body of Kaine Parker, now being carried away by the local police.

“We can’t let this happen to any of ours.”

And Peter agrees with that statement with all his heart.

131. Sundae

“Victory!” crows Peni. A beaming Mr. Lee claps her on the shoulder as the small crowd cheers.

“Does this happen a lot in your world?” Miles asks Gwen.

“You mean, do my villains routinely agree to ice-cream-eating competitions with teenagers? Generally, no. That is not a regular thing.”

“Stupid lactose intolerance,” groans the Koala Kommander, slumping forward and holding his stomach. “Nigel, you got my pills?”

Nigel the Koala is indeed holding a medication bottle in his paws.

“...more believable with this guy, though.”

132. Spectre

Of course Peter hears it first. The humans know the Web, but they aren’t born for webs like he is. But it is a little odd. He’s on his way from Gwen’s world to Noir’s (his first time) when he hears...a rumbling, of some sort. A vibration.

Someone—something?—is walking on the Web between dimensions. Or…bouncing? Someone who feels, to Peter’s Web-Sense (Spider-Sense, guys, honestly? That's just speciesist), strangely familiar.

In free-fall through the void, he says, “You’re making a lot of noise. Mind keeping it down a bit?”

The bouncing stops.

hahaha

The strange words—the spoken laughs—come out of nowhere.

yourefunny

“Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

didntknowyouhaditinthefirstplace

“Now that’s just rude.”

noigenuinelydidntknow

whatkindoftouch

youreastrangeshadow

yournameis

PeterPorker

right

“...yeah?”

iknowyourname

remembermyname

mynameisCarnivore

butyoucancallmeKarn

myfathercallsmethat

CarnivoretheConquerer

eaterofShadows

likeyou

youreashadow

whatareyoudoingintheWeb

“You know, has anyone ever told you that you can be really annoying?”

idontknow

probablynot

shadowsdontusuallytalkthismuchanyway

iseethisisyourstop

eatyoulaterSpiderHam

And Peter drops out of the void and into Noir’s apartment with a strange sense of foreboding.

(But he can let it slip. What’s one kinda bratty somewhat familiar-sounding eldritch voice against Spider-Ham?)

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

I followed you for atla content (i love your posts sm) and now I find out you also like FMA!! Yay for me!! For the character ask, anyone you like in the seven sins gang :)

ahhhh i was so torn between envy and pride for this lol! but let's go with my original favorite homunculus - envy

Why I like them: honestly i can't even articulate quite why i like envy? of course, i love how the core of their character is that they are envious (duh) of humans, for as much as they hate humanity and believe themselves superior. also, the sort of mirth and wit that envy had in their wickedness made them a very likeable antagonist, kind of like azula. i also love envy's character design! their "human" appearance, their ability to shapeshift, and their true forms are all great. i honestly really like how cruel envy could be, but i mean that in how their cruelty was born from their own envy. it was just very layered and i truly do appreciate a good, well-written antagonist

Why I don’t: i mean... they started the ishvalan civil war that led to the ishvalan genocide and has zero (0) regrets for doing it, so... pretty impossible to like that about them. and they killed hughes :(

Favorite episode (scene if movie): the ep where they kill themself. like holy crap that's such an intense few scenes, what with mustang's unbounded wrath and desire for vengeance and him having to be talked out of killing envy, all while envy is goading him on?? then envy being forced to confront that their hatred towards humans was really just envy of the connection and cooperation they themself could never achieve?? wow.

Favorite season/movie: mmmm i don't think of fma as seasons lol. probably that final arc tho

Favorite line: i went to the fma wikia to see if there were any lines that struck me since it's been a while since i read/watched fma, and this one stood out the most of what was listed: "Don't look down on me, you worms!" envy's greatest fear was always being seen as worthless, tbh, hence their envy of humans, whom they realized had inherent worth simply for existing. so yeah, i think that line really concludes their self-destructive ending

Favorite outfit: okay their crop top and miniskirt was kind of a look™, no lie

OTP: don't have one!

Brotp: the point of envy was kind of that they never had anyone to connect with, so... none, i guess?

Headcanon: envy wanted to form bonds with the other homonculi, but they couldn't. like on some level it was impossible for that to happen, which only contributed to their envy of humans and humanity's ability to forgive and empathize

Unpopular opinion: envy is a phenomenal antagonist, and i love how arakawa wrote them, but... they're kind of a genocidal maniac (or at least very indifferent to mass murder), and i think some people may romanticize them a bit too much lol

A wish: people were more willing to look at envy beyond, well, their envy. that's definitely a core component of their character, but envy has a lot of dark aspects that shouldn't be dismissed, yk?

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: uhhh... them coming back to life lol. their death was unavoidable

5 words to best describe them: malicious, snarky, envious (duh), bitter, and impulsive

My nickname for them: no nicknames!

[seapandora]

Sky High

Part 1

Summary: Y/N, an angel of the Lady. She is beauty, she is grace, but she will punch a demon in its face. 

A/N: A part of the writing challenge @buckysknifecollection made. It is going to be a series, and I´d love to hear from you guys on what you´d like me to change and what not. I really hope this will be a good one, I love the prompt and I just had a lot of fun writing this even if it probably doesn’t make any sense XD. Anyways, enjoy guys!

Warnings: Swearing (I swear a lot, okay), sexual innuendos (later chapters), alcohol, mentions of death/killing, mentions of religion(s), angst (future chapters), fluff (future chapters)

Steve x fem!reader

Words: 1778

Prompt: Angel/Demon AU

Y/N: Your Name

Y/Ns week had been awful, more so than usual. She hadn´t been able to be around her favorite humanoids and she had been away on mission after mission to species who didn’t appreciate her help and in the end didn’t pray to or for her, meaning her grace was draining slightly. It made her grouchy and really not very pleasant to be around. Natasha had already pointed that out to her, but Y/N had just grumbled and asked for another whiskey. It was the only way she would be able to get through the week in her own head.

Monday

Everyone hates Mondays, why should this one had been any different? It really wasn´t. It all started with Y/N getting her mission. A population of Welmus. An aggressive species who had no beliefs and were therefor hard to control. Welmus weren´t large, but they were many, reproduced faster than regular humans and could be a real pain in the ass unless controlled. Normally the younger angels would handle them, in more or less good ways. But in the past few months they had had a bit of an upproar which ended in the entire population having to be wiped out. Y/N didn’t like the work, but she didn’t want someone like Tony to have to do it. He took it more personal than Y/N did. She just did the job, she didn’t want to loose her wings. It seemed to be painful. So yes, she had commited mass-murder, in the name of Maria. In the words of sir Ian McKellen, in the Da Vinci-code, as long as there´s been one true god there has been killing in his name. Maria was god now. So while the Welmus-species wasn’t huge, standing at a height of 50 cm, they were very very aggressive and didn´t go down with a fight. Y/N had earned quite a few scars from that battle. In the end she had did what needed to be done though and she had wished for no more mission for the day, but as per usual, she never got what she wanted. Maria had given her another mission, this one to sort up another rebellion. She wouldn’t need to take anyone out, but she was supposed to take those responsible, into custody to let them stand in the court of holy law to have their fates determined. What a Monday it had been.

Tuesday - Thursday

Tuesday she had gotten her third mission of the week. To get to earth and make believers pray and atone for their sins. Yay, her favorite. Oh how she hated humans. They were ungreatful, needy, whiny, cruel, and disrespectful. They didn’t appreciate her help and didn’t pray for her after she left. All angels had a specific area they took care of Y/Ns was peace and she had visited earth with the mission to calm people down. The least they could do was to pray for peace no matter what religion they belonged to. Anyways, she had been busy trying to keep forces separated and her mind had been working non-stop to convince the leaders of the two forces to retreat and squash the dispute. What good was it being the good guy if she couldn’t use her powers. The whole ordeal had just taken so much energy out of her and Thursday night she just cured up under the stars and let herself regenerate a bit of Grace. It was exhausting to end fights and make sure everyone behaved, humans were particularly hard to deal with. And would you know, Friday would be even worse.

Friday

Whats worse than having adult humans not believe in peace? Having a child believe in peace but have to take them out because their future shows them to be horrible humans. The world didn’t need a new dictator. Her day had hence started with just studying the child, and eventually talking to the child and lastly taking the childs hand and guide him to Maria. Yes that meant the child moved on to the after-life. Yeah, Y/N job really wasn’t glamourous or fun sometimes. Her Friday didn’t end with that though. Maria sent her to collect three angels from hell, or the underworld rather. It was the same place for all religions who believed in a hell-like world where you were punished for your sins. Y/N liked the underworld, well she didn’t mind the dark and silence down there. Unlike heaven she never felt crowded while she was down there. The angels had all been captured by demons but had now been traded for demons that were kept in heaven. Y/N didn’t really know why they had all been captured, she didn’t really care, she just did her job. The angels had been returned safe and sound and Y/Ns week had finally been over. Well work for her was never over, but she took the weekend away from her boss, so close enough.

Angels and Demons, good and bad, light and dark, blah blah blah… Y/N had heard it all by now. She was the good, light, gracious and angelic. She was beautiful as few and carried her aura with pride. Well according to what most people thought anyways. She hated it, every second of it. Being an angel wasn’t something she had chosen. She had died, it was quite dramatic and all, but she had long forgotten how she died. Someone had seen into her sould and whipped up some hefty spell. And she oop… was an angel. Yeah yeah, it wasn’t that simple, but she didn’t know the process, just that she went through it. A few years into her… holiness… angelness… angelship, she got a wessel. She was to do the Lords work on earth. Y/N hadn´t been a believer before she died, doing the Lords work felt hypocritical to her and she had rebelled in a sense. Her rebellion had led to the exchange of theLord into a very lovey lady, Maria. Okay, she wasn’t lovely but, Y/N disliked any kind of authority. She did her duties as she got them in exchange for not being disturbed inbetween her missions. Her reach stretched beyond Earth, more than the human species believed in a power, and she was one of a number to make the higher powers work. Y/Ns favorite species to help were the Sofwas. They are small humanoid creatures, about 2 inches tall and despite that they’ve got quite the vocal range and Y/N always felt humbled by them. They were vocal, but kind, mostly. Y/N would often volonteer to help the Sofwas and she was respected and prayed to by the creatures. It was important to be that respected by at least one species. If she wasn’t she would fade, her wessel would devour all of her grace and she´d become a mere shell walking across the worlds praying on angels. Now lets not confuse a corrupted angel with a demon. A demone was a completely different thing, as unpleasant and disgusting of course, well almost all demons were awful.

Natasha wasn’t awful. She was a demon Y/N had worked with a few times by now. Angels and demons didn’t always have opposing goals. Most demons knew who Y/N was, they knew her story with heaven and often thought they could ger her to join their cause, or side, or whatever youd want to call it. Those attempt only pissed Y/N off, they were futile. She didn’t want to be on anyones bad side. She had, first hand, had to rip angels wings off because of their disobediance and failure to hide it, or make up for it. She had, first hand, had to kill demons, as they strayed too far off their path. All she really wanted was some peace and quiet. She had no interest in the disputes between angels and demons. She just didn’t want to be bossed around. That was her problem. If she refused orders she´d be discarded, she´d be killed. She was stuck in her situation really. Now back to Natasha, she ran a bar Y/N often visited. They had the more potent stuff that would get angels and demons alike, a good buzz. Y/N was a frequent visitor. Her work was hard and in the bar she didn’t have to think. A few of her collegues came with her occasionally, Tony mostly, but also Rhodey, and T´Challa. They usually met up in the bar to discuss their latest missions. The other three however werent as keen on demons as Y/N was. They were all technically younger than her and had a lot of faith in their boss Maria. Of course they knew about Y/Ns rebellion, but they hadn´t been around for it. At the bar they could talk freely, while there Maria couldn’t summon them. Natasha had made sure that the bar was a free haven.

The bar wasn’t only for them though, no no no, Natasha would never have been able to put up with them alone, there had to be at least two demons in the bar to balance it out. This didn’t always fall well with Tony and Rhodey. T´Challa was more relaxed around the demons even if he didn’t trust them or wanted to talk to them. There was however one demon neither of them wanted to talk to and Y/N wasn´t too fond of him either. He went by The Captain or The Nomad Captain, and he was the leader of the demons. He was the, so called, devils right hand. No one really knew his real name, well of course Y/N knew it. She knew a lot. She got around enough to understand who he was. The captain had a few friends Y/N actually spent some time with every now and then. It was mostly at the bar, but occasionally out in the real world as well. A demon Y/N really enjoyed spending time with was Sam. He was fun, and didn’t judge Y/N for being an angel. Unfortunately Sam spent most of his time with The Captain and his other associate. Y/N wanted to say the two were friends, but she didn’t know if demons could even have friends. Hell, she wasn’t sure she had or could have friends. Yes she had her collegues but they weren´t her friends. Currently the bar was empty apart from herself, Natasha, Natashas friend Wanda, and The Captain and the person Y/N had realized was closest to him, James. It was weird being the only angel in the establishment, but Y/N didn’t care too much. As long as The Captain and James didn’t pick a fight she would be fine. 

[love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward]

It's so sad, how the pride parade is all about....existence. Like, hey, everyone, we haven't been mass-murdered or imprisoned! We love people! We aren't shamed for being, not in this parade! It's only for a while, but still! We exist! Yay!!!

And then some asshole has a problem with that.

[madzilla84]

new month update/ramble

i’m sorry to say this, but some weirdos are going around saying it’s july?? obviously that’s impossible, we haven’t even had may yet. sadly another example of how fake news can spread quickly on social media. :c

no but the year is half over, cool cool cool. I remember last year being *delighted* that 2019 was coming to an end, but as bad as this year has been so far, I don’t think I’ll feel like that this time around … because I was actually optimistic for 2020 (fool! idiot!!). but maybe the second half of the year will surprise me! (in a good way, i mean, as opposed to the terrifying near-daily ‘surprises’ 2020 has been delivering so far.)

though, speaking of good surprises, phil’s video!! what a sweetheart he is. i admit when i got the notif i was a bit *internal terror* but i guess that’s just how i’ve been conditioned these days. i bought the print - i love the border! i put a holographic border around the pic of phil from vidcon last year, so it’ll be a nice match. i’m going to put it over the tv, i think - maybe if i look at it enough, one day i might start to believe it. i certainly don’t right now.

i need a second hand now to count the number of times they’ve insisted in the last year that the future is bright and hopeful and - quite aside from the virus, though that obviously hasn’t helped - that hasn’t been the case for me. it must be for them, though, so, that’s good, at least, i guess. (i would like to see it.)

I definitely wanted to hug Phil afterwards, and was glad I at least had the memory of doing so to fall back on. (…though. I always kind of don’t like talking about it a little bit? Because I feel bad for those who would love to meet him but haven’t had the chance, or had it and it got ripped away *again*, thanks miss rona. Feels like rubbing it in. I know it hurts *me* to see people’s old M&G pics and vids everywhere on twitter, but I am an Oversensitive and Jealous Fool as we know. It does feel like I missed/lost the only chances I might have had to meet Dan, too, especially now he seems to have retired from internet/youtuber life. So seeing the pics of people hugging him, it hurts man. So I’ve been a bit reticent to post my own with phil; it was my profile pic for a while on twitter but I took it off. I dunno. Probably just me being an idiot. I printed it and put it above my desk instead)

Back in 2019 I ordered a gay corgi pin and stickers for Phil - to give to him at Vidcon - but by the time they were due to ship out they got delayed due to the rona, and didn’t end up arriving until 2 weeks after the event. I hope I can give them to him one day; I feel like he’ll still do appearances once this is all over, so here’s hoping.

At the beginning of June I started using an app called moodpath as a mood tracker; sort of out of vague interest really, but it’s actually been really useful. It generates a result for you every 2 weeks, and it generated likely ‘severe depressive episode’ for the first 2 weeks of june and ‘moderate depressive episode’ for the second 2. (Progress? yay?) It’s interesting though; it generates stats and even generates a letter for you to give to a doctor or therapist as a jumping  off point if you might find that helpful. Eh, it’s just an app, not a professional, but I thought it was interesting. (Also, yeah, the first half of June fully sucked)

youtube was a bit of a rollercoaster yesterday lmao. started off with finishing up the last of us 2 (no spoilers, I loved it; I kept waiting for the moment that seemingly had gamers in a frothing rage and it never came, so i assume it was simply the presence of gay and trans people), then i started watching tati’s vid, then phil’s went up, then back to tati’s. Re dramageddon 2 … I - don’t really have any investment in any of these people - the only vids of any of theirs I’ve ever watched was shane’s series on tanacon when I wanted to know what that was all about. It’s kind of like watching a soap opera, except that obviously real people have been affected… who knows how it’ll go down this time, they all walked away with their careers intact last time and i suspect, for J* at least, any publicity is still publicity, so. *shrug*

animal crossing is still great, always fun when it’s a new month. i’ll miss my pride month decorations. maybe i’ll put a permanent rainbow flower patch somewhere. i hope we get an update on pickle island some time, even as i have a sneaking suspicion it might be an abandoned wasteland. who knows, maybe it’s a thriving metropolis and that’s why phil was so quiet in june.

anyway. whenever i find myself particularly struggling i often come back to playing mass effect, and i started doing that again yesterday, so yeah. decided to give myself a break over feeling guilty about not writing or whatever - the ideas will come when they come, or they won’t, and I can’t force the issue. so i might as well enjoy doing something else.

[zukofenty]

Sugar

➜ Summary: The one where there’s a former skateboarding photographer turned teenaged masked vigilante running around protecting the city from crime. Yet, Katara always knew she wasn’t meant to just sit a good fight out.

“Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit.

“Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back.

➜ Genre: Spiderman!AU, Modern!AU, humor

➜ Words: 3.8k

➜ Warnings: I love Zuko😩

AO3, My Zutara Month Playlist

@zutaramonth​ hi!!! this my late day 1 hehe

“Self care 2020 is officially over. We’re doing drugs again.” 

  Suki stares at Katara quizzically. “No, I don’t think that’s how it goes.” 

  “Are you sure?” Katara asks, puzzled. Suki just rolls her eyes, picking at her chipping manicure as Katara focuses on her biology homework. 

  “It’s only been like two weeks into the New Year. Yeah, I’m sure,” Suki deadpans. “What makes you think that doing drugs again is remotely going to-” Her rant is abruptly cut off at the sound of commotion coming from the courtyard. “Fuck, not Jet again.” 

  Katara jumps to her feet. Not this bitch again . Before she has to do more damage control than Camila Cabello’s publicist every time she opens her mouth and something stupid (and/or racist) for the 1000th time, Katara surveyed the scene before her. Freshman Aang, still prepubescent and so, so tiny was spared from having his face shoved in a moldy grilled cheese sandwich the cafeteria gave to kids who couldn’t afford lunch (yay public school!). He’s not facing Jet’s usual wrath inflicted on any short king 5’9” and under. Instead, a figure was gasping for air in an oversized black hoodie, hands clawing at Jet’s angular face. 

  “Hey Jet!” Katara yelps, pulling the tall boy up by his belt loops. He pauses in pummeling Zuko’s oh so pretty face, and grins unabashedly at Katara. The smile she knows is only reserved for her. 

  “Yes, Katara?” He smirks when he could almost hear pussies clench. He knows his power. 

  She smiles back at him, making it almost reach her eyes. “I did a little research, and guess what?” 

  “What?” 

  She pushes her bangs from her eyes, looking so sweet and innocent in her blazer and her signature knee length boots. “You’re a whore. A dumb whore.” He can’t help but let anger paint his face. “Leave these damn kids alone ! Don’t you have another class to ditch? A military program to join? A car to mod? Find a hobby. Go to therapy. Stupid.” 

  Her hair flows whips around as quickly as she does, flowing and bouncing effortlessly as she heads to AP Chemistry. 

  Zuko smiles, despite the pain in his chest from where Jet shoved his converse into. He thinks he loves her. Or what anti social kids like him thought love was because he doesn’t think she knows who he is. So polished and passionate about everything she does. Captain of the debate team, president of the Student Advocate’s club, and head intern at Phoenix Corporations in working on projects to mass clean polluted waters. She managed to do everything and still have kindness in her soul. The kind of love that you could almost feel surrounding a person. 

  He decides he likes staring at her, even if it’s the back of her head during chemistry. It was too easy to fall in love, when she was yelling at him to photograph the debate club’s photos in a certain light so they could post it on their Facebook for student recruitment season. He manages to always trip on his laces every time he’s around her, or stumble on his skateboard when she sends a small smile his way as they pass each other in the hallway of Ba Sing Se Academy. It’s always worth the detention Principal Pakku serves his way, if it meant he could get her attention. 

  In high school, guys like him and girls like her weren’t meant to be together. He’s impossibly clumsy, according to Uncle Iroh, and dangerously emo, according to everyone else. Katara, well she’s meant for bigger and better things, she’s meant to be out in the world and changing it. 

  She startles him, the way she turns so fast her ponytail narrowly misses his bruised face. “It was great what you did. It was kind of fucking stupid. But great.” 

  “Thank you?” 

  Katara beams impossibly wide. “You’re welcome. What’s your name?” 

  Zuko’s giving her a lopsided smile. “You don’t know my name?” 

  “Am I supposed to? You know I only keep up with Black Chyna and the lord.” Her wide eyes squint in a smile. His heart thunders, and he somehow feels as though Katara could sense it, with how much bigger her smile gets. 

  //

  “Welcome to the company single handedly transforming the genetic and biological industry. The future lies within!” The monitor’s voice announces repeatedly, Phoenix Corporation’s recognizable slogan. 

  Zuko’s in awe. He wasn’t meant for a world like this, with fancy lab coats and holographic presentations and people with glasses spewing larger than life terms. Hell, the revolving doors got him fucked up! That shit was too advanced for his liking. Science was his thing , but this was entirely out of his league. He donned glasses as an homage to a father he had never known, abandoning him when he was a baby on his Uncle Iroh’s doorstep. A labcoat was handed his way after the intern program directors approved with the badge of some guy named “Lee.” Zuko desperately tries to ignore the pleas of the real Lee coming from the lobby of the building. 

  “I swear I have a badge, I swear I’m an intern here!” 

  A guard shoves him out the door. “Can it, zit bitch!” 

  “I don’t think security guards are supposed to pick at people’s insecurities,” Lee whimpers. 

  He’s avoiding eye contact as Katara prattles away, taking the sweaty interns every which way through the company’s headquarters. “And here is Dr. Ozai, who will be discussing his cross elemental genetics project.” 

  He’s a formidable man. Tall, broad shoulders. He looks intensely polished, the type of man that always gets his way. The type of man who refuses anything less than what he wants. Zuko can’t help but stare. He looks different from the pictures Zuko found in Iroh’s basement. Meaner . Is this what he will look like in the future? He tries not to think about it too hard.  “Does anyone know the history of the firebenders are?” Zuko sees Ozai relishing in the confused faces of the teens, oily foreheads seemingly glistening in the fluorescent lighting. 

  “They were-”

  Zuko promptly interrupts him. “They were born with the ability to will fire any way they wanted. Legend has it that benders were born with abilities to manipulate all the elements: water, earth, fire, air. These people were invincible.” 

  Ozai smirks. A first for him, a student who understood his work. “Yes, all true. But the truly powerful ones were the ones who could firebend. This element is the most destructive, yet can bring beauty all at once.” He pauses to bring a holographic video to the attention of the students. “My goal is to recreate this ability that once came so easily to our ancestors. To bring humankind to be this powerful again. Where nothing will ever get in our way, no illness, no fear. Just us and the elements, joined together once more.” 

  As the fellow interns become increasingly enraptured by the presentation detailing his work, Ozai turns to Katara reviewing notes for the rest of the office tour. “Who was that kid?” She couldn’t help but feel pride in her soul. As she turns to introduce him to her mentor, her brows furrow in confusion. He’s nowhere to be found.

  //

  He hadn’t meant to sneak into the top secret chamber of research, he swears. One minute he’s looking for a bathroom because he downed one too many Fiji waters because they were fancy and he wanted to feel fancy. And then of course he’s distracted by pretty buttons, and of course the rebel in him is able to remember the passcode scientists used to enter this top secret chamber. (The password was “thrussy.”) 

  He certainly hadn’t meant to get burned. He hastily climbed into the empty tube to hide himself as security guards routinely checked the room. While trying to unlock the door, of course he just had to trip on his laces, and of course he just had to press some button. Next thing he knew, he was surrounded by rainbow colored flames, engulfing his body. He remembers the last thing he searched on his computer was “what are furries festival” and prays that the police spares that from the report when they investigate his death. 

  But, he’s fine. He’s more than fine. He’s fucking fantastic . He’s strong, he has the reflexes of a fucking ninja, and he can conjure fucking flames from his hands. From his hands! 

  He practices every night, after the day at Phoenix Corp. He singed his towels, accidentally broke open his medicine cabinet when he reached for his anti depressants, and exploded his Aveeno bedside lotion. There’s an abandoned building near his apartment, and he climbs to the rooftop every night to control his newfound powers. He’s not clumsy, and swears he can rival Tony Hawk with his skateboarding abilities.

  But the best part is how agile he’s become. He’s strong, noodle arms now muscular. His baggy shirts like a conscious fashion choice, and not just because they were the cheapest in the Walmart clearance rack. The kids that ignored him and continued to make out in front of his locker without any consequence? Pushed to the ground. The bully targeting petite kings? Basketball shoved firmly into his head. 

  “I’m trying my hardest to stop being mean. It’s really not my fault everyone is so fucking stupid.” Zuko petulantly stares at the suspension slip Pakku had written as he waits for Iroh to finish speaking to the principal. Apparently justice has consequences. 

  “Zuko!” Katara serious tone is heavily contrasted with laughter. 

  “Fine, you caught me. I’ve been ditching therapy to hotbox in the Denny’s parking lot.” 

  Katara huffs. “Denny’s? Really, bitch? You couldn’t have chosen, I don’t know, Target at least. Here I thought you were classy.” 

  Their collective laughter was interrupted by Iroh’s appearance, anger maring his usually gentle face. “We’ll talk about this later. Zuko, you know better than this. Why did you have to humiliate that boy?” 

  “He deserved it!” 

  “Enough! I’m have to pick up some later shifts at the tea shop today. Show up for yours today, too.” Zuko senses his uncle has more to say, more to berate him for. He just looks exhausted . Defeated. It’s all his damn fault. Iroh swerves to Katara. “He has you on his computer by the way! I’m his parole officer, nice to meet you.”  Zuko’s mouth falls open, trying to explain to Katara who is barely holding herself together with how loudly she’s guffawing. 

  “I love you,” Iroh says, moving to exit out the school.

  “I know.” Zuko starts to move away, before he pauses. “I love you, too.” 

//

  He thought, you get the girl, you get the firebending skills and you get hot and everything is ok. Everything is perfect. The universe has so many ways to fuck up your life, because serenity is just too easy. 

  Zuko’s heart clenches, staring at his Uncle’s body. There are tears that promise to slip, but never embark on their journey. A monitor nearby is noisily beeping, a tired nurse pats Zuko gently on the back. He’s becoming a recognizable figure, after all he does visit his Uncle Iroh two times a day. 

  It’s his fault . 

  It’s a thought that becomes permanent in his mind. It’s his fault that he lost track of training himself, and didn’t show up for his shift. It’s his fault that Iroh was running around the whole damn city looking for him. It’s his fucking fault his uncle was beat nearly half to death by robbers. 

  He grabs his uncle’s limp hands gently between his own calloused ones. “I’m going to make this right. I’m going to make you proud.” He slips away before he can feel his heart threatens to simply stop, unable to process the infinite pain he feels. 

  //

He glances at his watch nervous for multiple reasons. One, that he was going to miss his shift at the tea shop and get lectured again by June, his neighbor who has graciously taken over running the shop and housing Zuko until Iroh wakes from his coma. Two, that if he stares at the sea prunes any longer without actually eating them, Katara’s grandma would start laughing at him. Three, if Katara’s father kept glaring at him he would combust with how fucking nervous he was. It didn’t help he snuck in through Katara’s window and Hakoda had discovered him watching Tik Toks on her bed. 

  The dinner was a bust. Halfway through and he’s already gotten in an argument with the police chief over a certain masked figure. 

  “I think his name is The Blue Spirit.” Zuko admits, fighting to hide a smile. 

  Hakoda stares down at the boy. “More like Blue Dipshit. He’s destroying the city!” Katara quickly steps in as the argument grows heated, taking Zuko out to her building’s rooftop. 

  “Oh my god, you should be glad he didn’t shoot your ass up.” Katara clutches the railing, staring out to the city lights. 

  The same city lights he lives by, swears by. He remembers trying to seek out his uncle’s attacker. A man named Zhao notorious for his violent temper and attacks on the city’s elderly. He was able to run into his gaggle of minions on his nights long quest. While they had successfully nearly beat him to a pulp, he swears he’s set a few jackets on fire and managed to outrun them. Even if it meant he had fallen through an unbuilt building, tumbling down six stories before landing in the pits of a former fight club. He saw it then, the Blue Spirit legend. An ancient swordsman who dominated the underground scene. 

  He decided he was going to be the best damn superhero the world had seen. Even if it meant wearing an all black leotard every night. He designed it to best complement his firebending, resistant to the heat. The mask he slipped on every night, built to protect both him and his identity. The swords at his back that he’s been training with hours on end. 

“Are you a cop?” he remembers his uncle’s attacker questioning, his new target blocked by Zuko’s presence. 

  “Really? You think a cop is going to be wearing a blue face mask and black spandex?” He doesn’t remember much of that night, anger too palpable and blinding his senses. All he will admit to is leaving him in some police car. Not the bruises littering the bandit’s body. Or his missing pants. 

  “I have to tell you something.” He joins Katara at the railing. 

  She gasps. “I knew it! You listen to Post Malone unironically.” 

  “No, god no. I haven’t hit rock bottom yet to start doing that.” He’s proud of himself for making her laugh. 

  “What’s up?” She asks. He can’t back out now. Not when she’s looking at him like he’s the whole world, not when she’s become his whole world. 

  “I-I can’t” He stutters, breaking their eye contact. 

  She nods in quiet understanding, turning away from him to walk back to her apartment. Zuko sighs, rubbing a hand at his forehead. “ Fuck.”

  He conjures up a storm of flames to surround Katara. The force was enough to whirl her around and towards him, waiting to catch her in his arms. 

  “What the fuck was that?” Katara yelps, before being cut off with the feeling of Zuko’s lips pressed against hers. 

  “I just wanted to let you know. I Am. A. God.” He swears, the flames growing steadily from his palms.  

  “I’m kind of scared of you right now. Not because of the firebending or anything, just because the amount of testosterone is making me nervous.” She initiates the kiss this time. Her lip gloss tastes sweet, and he keeps kissing her until her lips become chapped. His hands can’t help but roam her body, her hands teasing and finding contact with his toned stomach beneath his hoodie. 

  “Are you kidding me!” Sokka calls from the rooftop’s entrance, hands covering his eyes. “I swear to Spirits above Zuko I am not afraid to castrate you right here right now. Katara, get the fuck inside!” 

  Zuko blushes. 

  // 

“Katara, you’re so incredibly mature for your age.” Hama insists. 

  Katara is beaming. “Thanks, it’s the childhood trauma!” 

  The chemistry teacher freezes, looking at the still smiling girl peculiarly. “Um, well. My point is, it’s not worth it. I-I know it’s none of my business. I just see so much of myself in you. Including the mistakes I know you’re going to make. Honey, it’s not worth mixing yourself up with a guy that’s only more trouble than anything else. You’re going to go to the best college in the nation, I just know it. You just can’t afford to lose your focus now. Been there, done that. It’s not worth it.” 

  She smiled seemingly understandingly, struggling to keep her mouth shut. If only she knew. 

  The Blue Spirit couldn’t fight all the crime in the city alone. As much as Zuko was convinced he was the shit, he really wasn’t. The Blue Spirit couldn’t dare match up to The Painted Lady. 

“You’re The Painted Lady?” Zuko questions, eyes closed in confusion while trying to process all the information. To be fair, he’s only gotten two hours of sleep a night ever since his life as The Blue Spirit began. He’s convinced the police really only sit around and eat donuts. If this was Law and Order: SVU , he just knew Olivia Benson wouldn’t need a masked teenager saving people. He opens his eyes when he begins to feel pulsating water near his wounds, Katara controlling its every movement as it works its way through his wounds. 

  After reuniting with his father and become an official intern at Phoenix Corp, he soon realized his father was not as occupied with cross elemental theories. No, he was much more focused on how to resurrect the dragons of the world. The true firebenders, he noted. Zuko had found hidden notes his mother had written before leaving his father. Partners in crime, they were working on their research together. Before his mother had left with the solution, before his father could understand the consequences of his work. Before his father had made himself a subject and injected their concoction into himself, become a half scaled half human hybrid roaming the sewers of the city. 

  He had found his father, bitter to no end as he continues producing the serum that was supposed to make the most powerful being on the planet. Zuko was left with gashes in his chest that made him wanted to vomit with how much blood was pouring out. He was left to die in dirty sewage water, his father cackling as he disappeared. Until she showed up. 

  The Painted Lady. 

  The city’s emblem, etched on coins and dollar bills. He’s heard rumors about her cleaning up the city’s rivers, healing patients doctors long gave up on. Her grandmother had told her their family comes from a long line of waterbenders, the last one born 400 years ago. She had her swear never to reveal her talents, never talk about it, never do anything about it. It was dangerous, the government would want to talk to her. She would disappear, the whole family would be in danger But Katara was never one to listen to directions very well. 

  “Did you just fucking slap me?” Zuko is incredulous, clutching his reddening man tit. She’s nearly healed all the cuts on his body at the hands of his father’s claws. The burn from a dragon is more painful than any other, and Katara’s upset. She can’t heal his eye, no matter how hard she tries. 

  “Yeah, what are you going to do about it? Be mad?” Katara bites back. She pauses the water disappearing from her hands and back onto the mug on her night stand. “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid.” She’s in his lap, clad in only a t shirt. Her hair falls in her eyes as she returns to heal his wounds, and he gingerly brushes the strand out from blocking her. 

  “I know.” Zuko couldn’t help but press a kiss to her cheek. 

  “Don’t return the sweatpants,” Katara throws out. 

  Zuko raises his eyebrow. “Why, doesn’t Sokka want these back?” 

  “He says, ‘I don’t want emo butt juice on them,’” Katara shrugs. 

  He blows a stray hair from his scarred eye out of frustration. “I consider myself chic punk more than anything else.” 

  She pauses again. “What if there’s more of us out there?” Katara uneasily peers up at his questioning stare. “More benders?” 

  Even with all the tests and insistence Ozai had for recreating this power, Zuko had been the only successful case. The only person to fully exhibit the power of his ancestors. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t they need to go through some sort of freak accident like I did?” 

  “What if your power was suppressed this whole time?” 

  He contemplates the idea, hands rubbing up and down her waist. 

  “I think my grandma used to say something like ‘One queef and this whole building could tumble down.’”

  He is glaring at her quizzically. “No I don’t think that’s right. What does that even mean?” 

  “It means, life as we know it will change forever. If we find other benders to defeat your father. If we expose what bending is. Hell, the city still thinks you use jetpacks to propel yourself around the city.” 

  He pecks chastely at her lips. She hates how easily she’s able to relax when he kisses away her worries. “You know, I used to think if I had a boyfriend I would simply go beat pedophiles to death with him as a hobby. I don’t know whether or not to be delighted this has come true.” 

  “As long as The Blue Spirit always has The Painted Lady. Everything will be alright.” 

  “You promise?” 

  “You rise with moon. He does, too.” Zuko’s staring at the mask in his hand. His other hand firmly around Katara’s. 

[dangermousie]

So, ep 4 of The King 2 Hearts is the one that always flips the switch to mad love for me

First, let's start with the fact that the King is fucking insane. I am not sure whether we were supposed to think 'yay, clever test' and blame Jae Ha for 'failing' it by shooting Hang Ah, but if so, I am not getting on that bandwagon. Who the hell conducts an experiment like that?! Woo-hoo, dude, put a bunch of people in mortal peril (there so many ways this could have gone deathly wrong), and get your little brother one step away from suicide. Hooray for you! You and Batman Villain should swap tips. People are not toys. Also, while Jae Ha has plenty of faults and flaws, not trusting NK and shooting Hang Ah is not among them. It's pretty significant that perfect soldier Shi Kyung was exactly the same. In fact, to have done otherwise would have been cripplingly naive under the circumstances. The King's bizarro 'you are from a royal family so should have seen through it' seems insane and victim-blaming - the scenario created was beyond probable and, I fail to see what else one will expect when (a) hunted by NK army (b) shown via TV reports that North and South are at war (c) told he is about to be conveyed out and after hard time trusting, finally doing so (d) only to be led out to a full glare of NK soldiers with rifles drawn. At this point, I'd have wondered whether Jae Ha was mentally damaged if he didn't react the way he did, shaking hands, desperation, adrenaline and all! (Also, Kingie, your psycho test only failed because you had the whole army out there for no reason, if it went as scheduled, it would have passed). Even Hang Ah held a grudge for Jae Ha's verbal smackdown in ep 2 but doesn't hold one in the least when he shot her point-blank in the chest, because she is not insane like the King apparently is. In ep 2, he was being a spiteful little bitch and said things he said to hurt her. In ep 4, he (and she) believed their countries were at war and he shot her when he thought she delivered him to his enemies with every reason to believe so. If the tables were turned, I see Hang Ah doing the same. (I did love when he told her it hurt his heart (when he shot her). AWWWWW. I love true love with guns). Also, while we are on Kingly insanity, who the hell asks someone 'hey, you had a gun to your head, why didn't you pull the trigger, you should have!' Dude, get therapy! You annoy the fuck out of me. The episode highlighted the best and worst of Jae Ha. He was being a total dick to the SNSD-loving NK officer and I wanted to club him, but by the end of the ep, just as the first time around, I had a ridiculously-sized crush on him. He is deliberately flaky but only when he knows he can be. When push comes to shove and he's the against the wall, he's got a ton of guts and courage. Underneath the spoiled persona is a spine of steel. The whole thing with the 60km run pretty much personifies this. He throws doing this run in his brother's face and, at that time, I do believe he means every word, due to his temper and his hurt/rage/guilt. But then he's quite happy when he thinks he'll run 2km and they will come get him and say he did enough for PR. But then (I am using too many 'but then?', aren't I?), when it turns out he has to do all 60km, he buckles down and grimly keeps going in freezing Korean winter in heavy military gear even with his leg busted, which is pretty much tourniquetted to keep him from bleeding! He refuses to give up even when the soldiers try to get him into the van and even when he thinks he lost anyway because he couldn't make it in time. His outburst near the end where he just yells "I can't! I can't! I can't!" actually made me emo up a bit (LSG is acting this role out of the ballpark btw).   Some of my favorite bits:

Jae Ha refuses to go to be taken to Pyongyang and Hang Ah pulls a gun on him. I love an OTP that uses guns in an argument the way other people use curse words.

Jae Ha’ escape attempt doesn't work, and we are back to the gun extravaganza. And then JH, who hurt his leg in the scuffle, tells Hang Ah that he is not going anywhere. Because sure, he'll be treated well by NK, to be traded for territory or other concessions, but he won't do it, he refuses to be a hostage. And he tells her he won't leave and if she wants to kill him over it, so be it. OMFG, Jae Ha, I think I have just fallen in love! And she turns her gun around and gives it to him! (EEEEE!) And it sinks it for him that maybe she wasn't lying, and she really was going to take them out to get them to SK. Back to bickering for the two idiots, lol.

Only, they step out into the full glare of massed NK army. Hang Ah is shocked but all Jae Ha can think of is that she planned it all along, to betray them. He  raises his (formerly her) gun, and shoots her point-blank in the chest (since none of them know it's a psycho experiment, none of them know it's blanks). And then he puts the gun to his own head, ready to pull the trigger. I think I just went to drama heaven. Anybody else find the combo of gun and crazy angst really hot? No? Just me? I'll be backing away slowly from the rest of you sane people, now.

Guess who joins him for the insane 60km stunt? I love how he's secretly so pleased. He optimistically thinks he won't have to do the whole thing but it turns out he does. I love that he just buckles down and does it. One problem - he's barely limping because he's still freaking bleeding from the unhealed wound in his leg. Hang Ah gets her acupuncture needles out and I love that he freaks out at first until he realizes this is making the pain go away. AWWWWW. Guns AND hurt/comfort? You are spoiling me, drama! Only that is a short term solution and, acupuncture or not, nobody should be going on a 60km hike in a blizzard, carrying heavy gear, with a bum leg. So soon, he's barely moving again. The guys in the car freak out and try to get him to give up and come in, but Jae Ha recalls his brother's disappointment and Hang Ah's taunt in ep 3 that he has no pride (and I love that HA's opinion is clearly as important to him as that of his idolized brother), grits his teeth and keeps on.

I loved the bit when he pretty much breaks down, at the end of his rope, crying "I can't!" They just sit, and she points out that they are out of time - they will never make it to the meeting point on time. And then she gives him a handkerchief to wipe up the tears (AWWWW!) and plops down with a grin, saying the weather is great for winter, so why don't they rest? And they are sneaking looks at each other! (LSG and HJW continue to have so much chemistry, it ought to be illegal!) 

After a little bit of time resting, he gets up, telling her he is going to finish. She says the challenge is already over and he lost, and he grins a little and says he's a royal so he has to keep going. My heart!!!!

I love them SFM! Almost as much as he likes calling her “commie” as a term of endearment.